<USS Avalon> "Pathogen Conference - Part 2 - Posturing Fools"

Pathogen Conference - Part 2 - Posturing Fools

by Sergeant Major Gregory Williams and Lt. Sussanna Jameson

Another hand shot up from the ocean of faces before him. Inwardly sighing,
Greg acknowledged the inquirer.

"But if the structure of the pathogen... what was it?" The cadet's face
wrinkled in thought.

"Almacornalene," Greg said flatly.

"Yes, if its structure is mutated by the host, what effect does it have on
the carrier?"

"They die."

A ripple of laughter sprang up in response to Greg's simple answer.

"Yes but... but..." Red faced, the cadet stumbled over his words.

Feeling a little sorry for the poor man, Greg smiled warmly. It really
hadn't been his intention to embarrass the man. "To be honest, I'm not all
that interested in the whys and wherefores of how someone dies after being
infected. You will receive countless lectures this week on the resultant
symptoms of each new strain that's been conceived and if there are any known
cures or vaccines. My only concern is the virus."

He started to pace and gesture, weighing things off on each hand. "How does
the bug react to different species? What happens if the initial conditions
are changed? How does heat affect the outcome? Humidity? Emotional state of
the host? Physical condition of the host? Each of these things has its own
effect on how the pathogen will mutate. Today all I've concentrated on is
almacornalene," with a sly smile he added, "because it's the most
interesting and responsive. But there are thousands of different strains to
research. I could spend the whole week simply discussing this one pathogen.
Could you imagine how long it would take to talk about all of them?"

There was a woman in the front row that caught his eye for the third time.
She was just sat there, her legs crossed, a PADD balanced on one knee with
an attentive but somehow smug smile on her face. Steel grey eyes held his
own blue ones for a fraction of a second and her tight lipped smile
broadened momentarily. His heart skipped a beat but he scolded himself for
being a fool. She raised one of her hands.

"But for every mutation, there must be a new strain created, right?" said
the Australian blonde.

YES! His eyes brightened and he gave her a huge grin. "Exactly! The chemical
composition of even the simplest pathogen is so complex that the number of
new strains possible from making just the tiniest alteration to its make-up
is in the thousands."

He brushed his fingers over the console in front of him and the huge display
screen instantly showed the structure of the virus he'd been talking about.
"Granted, this is one of the more complex pathogens, but..." he pointed at
part of the screen, "... if you swapped this for an ammonium molecule, you'd
get something completely different. The change is tiny but the results are
huge!" He bounced across the platform, still directing his words at the
woman. "And the really exciting thing is that each individual host will have
a completely different and, as yet, unpredictable effect on the virus.

"For example, if we took ten Romulans and injected each with a dose of the
same culture, we would, of course, get ten different sets of symptoms." He
waved his hand as if to dismiss the excruciating deaths of those
unfortunate, fictional people. "But I'm not interested in that. What excites
me is the fact that we would get ten different, brand new strains of the
original virus. The mutation seems to be dependent on so many things."

He was babbling, he could tell because at least a dozen of his audience had
nodded off. There was no easy way to convey to people how exciting this
research was. And yet, the platinum blonde was still watching him, listening
to everything he was saying, absorbing it, analyzing it. Or at least he
could almost convince himself that she was.

Another hand shot up but the questioner didn't wait to be acknowledged. He
stood and demanded, in an angry voice, "So your research is designed
specifically around Romulan physiology?"

Greg blinked, "Huh?"

"You just said that you'd experimented on Romulans."

Open mouthed, Greg just stared at the man. "Huh?"

"You said that you'd performed tests on at least ten Romulans!" The
Starfleet Officer wagged a finger at Greg. "The Romulans are our allies now,
how can you justify abducting members of the Empire and torturing and
killing them?"

"Wh-what?" Squinting at the posturing Officer, Greg said, "It was an
example. I made it up. We don't experiment on real people." His voice
reflected how appalled he was at the whole concept. "These are not the dark
ages, we use holograms and computer simulations. What kind of monsters do
you take us for?"  You fucking moron. Before the idiot could reply, Greg
brushed the issue aside. "I think that's enough for today. The first lecture
tomorrow will be given by my esteemed colleague, Doctor Ralx."

Greg pointed out a seated Tellaxian. "He will be talking about the outbreak
of Mellak Syndrome on Epsilon Eridanae Bii three years ago and how natural
disasters involving pathogens can be prevented in the future." Glaring at
the protestor, he added, "Perhaps that lecture will be more conducive to
your delicate sensibilities."

Grabbing his PADD, Dr Williams strode out. Anna turned in her seat to watch
him go. She threw daggers at the fool who'd questioned the ethics of one of
the few people she admired. His talk was still ringing through her mind all
through dinner. Even though she'd looked, she hadn't seen Dr Williams at
all. A little disappointed but still excited by his research, she retired
early to contemplate everything he'd said.

Other related posts: