A Cure by Any Other Name

[Turris Morran 0]

Clad in a biological hazard suit and carrying three small vials of a bluish liquid, Turris Morran stepped into the science lab’s clean room. Designed for combat and to be self-sufficient, the architects spared very little room for the Manticore’s scientific facilities, and even less on a bio-containment room that would rarely be in use. Moran breaths came out heavy and forced; if the suit didn’t make him feel slightly claustrophobic, the small room – barely the size of the wash rooms in the crew quarters and taken up mostly by the few testing apparatus within – certainly made his heart race faster. Anxiety however, was something far from unusual for Turris Morran, and he was on a mission.

 

Oh, but how do I miss the facilities… Bah! You know damn well you don’t miss a single thing from that place. The two thoughts were there and gone in the span of blink, overlapping one another, both loud and clear as though whispered in his ear. For a moment he looked over shoulder, somewhat wide-eyed, and his pulse grew even faster. Laughing quietly to himself, knowing his mind was playing tricks on him; he examined the room and sat down at the small table in the center. Opening one of the vials, he procured a sample with an extraction tool and plopped a few small drops into a small chamber on the console in front of him, closing the lid. Somewhat impatiently, he waited for the computer to begin its analysis, fidgeting in his suit. A thought wandered into his mind as he was waited, a memory of sorts, but one he had no recollection of ever actually transpiring. A woman, quite attractive, had told him that he was destined to find his answers here, in the science bay of a ship called the Manticore.

 

He spared a few quiet laughs to himself, closing his eyes and nodding, grinning like a mad man. Oh, but she had such nice legs, that… What was her name?

 

“Genevieve.”

 

Turris’ gaze quickly shifted to a position over his right shoulder, and but no one was with him. Before he could mull over the problem, his attention was drawn to the incessant beeping coming from his console, and the words “GENETIC ANALYSIS COMPLETE” in the sleek yet somewhat overbearing LCARS font. Pages upon pages of data scrolled by, A’s and T’s and G’s and C’s. Known protein strings these alleles coded for, and highlighted proteins that were highly complex, dangerous, or unknown. A few stuck out to him, though none that he knew of were highly toxic, a good sign indeed. He found himself giggling, for what reason he couldn’t explain, but his giggling was abruptly halted by a string of the “unknowns” being highlighted on the screen. “Computer, freeze display!” he barked, almost nearly knocking over the other two vials at his side as he threw his hands out. Leaning forward in his seat, becoming almost completely unaware of the hazard suit or the tiny room, he squinted and focused on one particular protein chain. It had a familiar shape, one he had seen on Romulus, and one other time before, in what seemed like a past life. It was altered slightly, taking on a different shape yet, to him it shown as brightly as the suns on Risa.

 

 

 

“Computer, begin personal log, science officer Turris Morran. Run analysis on protein E-one-two-seven-C and cross-record log with analysis.” The computer chimed to acknowledge his request and replied in its usual droll and unfeeling tone, “Commence when ready.” Tapping his console, a three-dimensional representation of the folded protein appeared on the screen, along with a continuous deluge of information, causing him to read furiously in order to keep up, his eyes darting from left to right. “Protein E-one-two-seven-C exhibits a similar structure to the metagenase protein, which ironically was not named after its function, but by an architect of ancient Greece,” the last two words came from him sounding almost as if they were foreign to him, or really held no special significance. “How an allele coding for this gene ended up in the common “Hepatitis A” virus, and ever more so how it finally came to end up on Romulus still baffles me entirely. The mutations it encountered, especially in such an unsuspecting and unprepared host were immense, and yet its base structure was recognizable with zero change. Of course it was specifically for this purpose for which it had been created,” Morran paused, seeming to ponder for a moment and chuckling to himself, then continued his log, speaking as if he would to a friend. “Yes, I know I do have a tendency to repeat myself. This information is entirely unnecessary at this point.”

 

Morran cleared his throat and focused on the data on his screen once more. “Specimens four and seven have subsequently failed. Contrary to initial simulations, no noticeable change occurred within the hippocampus, aside from a slight oscillation of the theta rhythm, and again no noticeable decrease in the amount of glutamate was observed. Furthermore the subject showed no signs of any adverse affects, but it is safe to say that tests on these specimens will be discontinued. Protein E-one-two-seven-C shows a promising improvement, and following simulations, will likely continue as specimen eight. Further results will be recorded after these tests are concluded. End log.”

 

Holding the vial up to the light, and peering through the translucent liquid inside, Turris seemed almost awestruck by it, as though he was looking at his savior. Placing a white sticker label around the vial, he scrawled “SPECIMEN 8” in his sloppy handwriting, and then with an almost maniacal laugh he scratched it out and replaced it.

 

“Genevieve. That’s a lovely name.”