In the town centre there is a gathering of news cameras. They have no crew, no anchors; just each other at a measured distance. A delicate array to advocate emptiness and then, remotely, swerved to slice the streets into new patterns, seeking and accusing the ignorant. Soon, they rust to stillness. Left, perhaps, to chance upon the virus itself, floating past in gaudy CGI. Instead they see deer, and boar, and foxes, badgers, swans. They see the creatures who will be spliced from the edit but preserved, in a separate file, for when variation might be needed, or expected.