Jaye Michael
PART TWO: CONVOLUTION
Chapter Thirteen: Kismet?
Now this is not the end.
It is not even the beginning of the end.
But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.
– Sir Winston Churchill
OCTOBER 17, 8:35 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
“Nice dress, Eunice. It compliments your eyes.” Eunice L. was wearing a fetching lime-green off the shoulder sweater-dress and matching shoes low heeled shoes.
“Thank you, Paula. Lyle bought it. Do you really like it?” Eunice L. turned and posed to model the dress more effectively.
“Oh, yes. Don’t you think so too, Yu?”
Yu Kim Lee nodded absently and turned back to the project he was working on.
“It must be nice to be able to wear real clothes again instead of those paper suits,” Paula continued.
“Oh, yes. But I must admit it was easier getting dressed when it was always the same. It gave me more time to concentrate on my hair.”
“Yea, I sort of figured that was why you were changing your hair style every day. Have you settled on any specific style? The curly upswept look was interesting.”
“No, not really. For now, I think I’ll leave it like this. It’s easier to take care of it.” Eunice smiled as she twisted a strand of her short, straight hair idly between her long-nailed fingers. Her polish today was lime green, Paula noted. The ex-man seemed to be experimenting a lot with her looks. Which was understandable enough, she supposed.
“Well, it looks lovely that way, dear; quite fetching in fact. If you didn’t have Lyle, you’d have to beat the guys off with a stick.”
Uh…uh, thanks, I think. We, uh, better get back to work. I really want to finish this last experiment. If the virus will accept DNA from non living matter I could get back my original body.” Eunice L. turned back to the electron microscope she was using, grateful that the conversation had ended before growing too awkward.
OCTOBER 17, 2:40 P.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
“Okay, gentlemen. As you know, Private Brown is unable to be with us today.” Captain Shultz scanned the room briefly stopping at each man’s face to see if there were any worried expressions, unsurprisingly there were none.
“Let’s get this damned meeting over with so we can get back to work,” the Captain waited impatiently as everyone quickly sat.
“Gentleman, I want to know the real reason why Dr. Sternlicht has purchased an aerosol vaccinator unit.” Captain Schultz was pacing about the small room he used for conferences while the rest of the officers in his security unit sat silently.
“Dr. Isaacs. Do you have ANY ideas?”
“No Captain,” Dr. Isaacs sat pensively for several seconds. “Well, maybe a few speculations. It is a more efficient method of viral injection. If we ever plan on using this for widespread military applications this would be the first step, to transform the virus into one that can be transmitted via airborne vectors. This is what Dr. Sternlicht and his team have been trying to do all along, unsuccessfully I might add. I really don’t think there is anything to it at this time.”
“Anyone. Different opinions?”
Silence.
“Fine,” Schultz said, but his scowl belied his words. “Then let’s look at this a bit differently. Consistent with standard procedure, assume the usual, that someone will attempt to subvert this operation. Can this be used against us somehow?”
“I suppose it could be used to inject staff at this facility,” Isaacs answered. “If Dr. Sternlicht were ever able to isolate BC-1109 again, he could use it to transform the staff. There are hundreds of agents, many already present at the lab, that could kill everyone at there, or at least make them sick so that an aggressor could break in. However, I believe we already have rules, such as all security personnel will never be together, that should make that extremely difficult, if not impossible.”
Captain Schultz nodded his affirmation.
“Then the most that could happen is a few people could be attacked. The injector does not work as a long range weapon or as a mass attack weapon.”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Challer?”
“It might be possible to overcome small groups during a quiet time. At night, for example.”
“I don’t think so,” Dr. Isaacs responded. “Despite what they show on television, it would take several minutes to several hours before the victim even felt the impact of most commonly available injectable substances. Certainly that should be enough time for an alarm and for help to arrive.”
“Any other comments, gentlemen?” The Captain looked around the room questioningly. “No? Fine, then we will continue as we are doing. Dr. Isaacs? Are there any new research developments to report?”
“Well, it appears that the option of a preventive vaccine is back to square one. The idea of combining one’s own DNA with the viral medium and then injecting one’s self has failed, at least partially. It would protect one against someone who has previously been injected. Thus, we had considered using this to protect on-site staff–those who do not leave the complex–from infection from Abbot or Branca. The problem is that we would then have additional infected personnel to worry about and even the infected staff would still require contamination gear when dealing with the subjects they are newly infecting. No clear gain was apparent, so we have not implemented such a strategy.”
“Dr. Isaacs?”
“Yes, Sergeant?”
“Do we know why a newer batch overcomes an older batch?”
“Well,” again Dr. Isaacs paused pensively, “First off, it is not truly accurate to say that a newer batch overcomes an older batch. After about two months, if experiments on those lab rats that were our first subjects are any indicators, it seems that the virus goes dormant. It could remain dormant for years, possibly for the entire life of the subject, although it is clearly too early to confirm that. While dormant, it will protect the subject from other dormant variants of the virus. That means everyone doesn’t keep reinfecting everyone else and changing bodies every several days. It just doesn’t protect against any newer, or to be more accurate, active, non-dormant strains. Thus, a new form would overwhelm the old body. As a result, we decided that it really did not provide a significant protection.”
“This seems like new information Doctor.” Captain Schultz was pacing again. “Why am I just hearing it now and will a dormant virus infect someone who is virus free?”
“Uh, it’s new information, sir. I just received it this morning.” The researcher was at least honest enough to blush. “I’ll try to make certain you are not surprised again, sir.
“As to your other question, unfortunately, yes. It seems the virus becomes active again once in has a virus-free host to invade.”
“How long would that take?” Yu Kim Lee, who had served as watch guard to Abbot and Branca while they were allowed to consolidate the initial research at NYU rarely said much at these meetings, so the others were a bit surprised.
“I mean, I’ve been around them most of their waking hours for the last month. This seems to change things a bit and I’d like to know what my risks are.”
“A fair question. Doctor?” Captain Schultz chimed in.
“Well, to answer your question as best I can, there doesn’t seem to be any significant change in risk factors. At this time, the virus still requires bodily fluid transfer. Unless you have ingested,” Dr. Isaacs coughed and cleared his throat before continuing, “or otherwise, internally accepted bodily fluids from Abbot or Branca, there is no additional risk.”
Dr. Isaacs again cleared his throat. He seemed more nervous than one would expect of someone used to speaking in public, especially when speaking about his area of expertise. “The dormant virus becomes active within moments of finding itself in a new, uninfected host.” Dr. Isaacs coughed again, then sniffled. “Sorry I seem to be getting a cold. Anyway, the risk does not seem to change dramatically there.
“Also, to conclude my update, we may have found a mononucleoid that will surround the virus in a manner similar to what happens when it goes dormant. So far, the shell only covers the virus for about twenty four hours before the virus consumes it and converts it, so this aspect of our research is not at a useful stage yet.”
“Okay. Once again. Anything new anyone wants to add? “No?” The Captain looked around the room one last time. For the first time, he seemed very weary. “Then thank you all and dismissed.”
OCTOBER 17, 8:50 P.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
Dr. Harriman was again at his computer in the common area of the suite he shared with Lyle E. and Eunice L. The two were cuddled on the couch in that same common area. He had his arm over her shoulder while she had her hand on his lap. Both were gently rubbing each other affectionately. They were comfortably snuggling together with her head resting on his shoulder. The television was on, but the show, “My Three Sons,” was being ignored as they whispered conspiratorially back and forth.
“Paula complimented me on your taste in dresses today,” Eunice L. confided with a giggle.
“I like that dress too, although it clearly looks better on you than it would on me now.” He smiled briefly and his hand reached up to stroke her hair for a moment.
“Have either of you seen Jackson Brown lately?” Dr. Harriman looked up from his computer to interrupt them.
“No, Daddy.” Lyle E. answered.
“No, sir. Why do you ask?” Eunice L. responded without even lifting her head from Lyle E.’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if there is anything to it, but I haven’t seen him in three days and I was wondering if something had happened.”
“Have you asked Dr. Sternlicht, Daddy?”
“No dear. Aside from the fact that I have little interest in doing anything that might assist him, I have...shall we say, religious differences with him.”
“Excuse me?” Eunice L. lifted her head off Lyle E.’s shoulder to look quizzically at Dr. Harriman.
Dr. Harriman just chortled so Eunice L. looked to Lyle E. for an answer. “It’s a colloquialism as Daddy likes to call it. He means Dr. Sternlicht thinks he’s god and Daddy disagrees. It seems that a lot of people in academic circles have extremely big egos.”
Eunice L. rolled her eyes and put her head back on Lyle E.’s head.
OCTOBER 17, 11:05 P.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
The survey monitor showed Dr. Sternlicht still working in his lab. The guard shook his head, bored with watching Dr. Sternlicht doing something he had no knowledge of nor interest in and turned back to the movie on the little portable television he kept for such exigencies. The movie Tootsie was just ending and Claude liked Dustin Hoffman, certainly more that the boring view on the security screen. Besides, nothing else was stirring. Even the young man and woman who lived in the complex for some reason weren’t going at it like they had been for the last several nights.
OCTOBER 18, 12:10 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
The guard jerked and grabbed for his little television set to hide it when he heard the sound of the elevator door opening, but then he saw who stepped out.
“Oh, hello Dr. Sternlicht,” he said sheepishly setting the set back on the counter. “Long night, huh?”
“Yes; and how are you doing Claude?” Sternlicht smiled and offered a friendly wave. He had been training Claude to trust him for weeks now.
“Fine.” His voice quavered just a bit. “Thank you for asking, sir. How about you?”
“I am quite well, thank you Claude, although as you noted, it has been a long night. What are you watching? Anything good?”
The guard glanced guiltily down at the portable television set.
“Worry not Claude, you know I have no interest in making your life uncomfortable. I will not say anything. I was just curious.”
“Thank you sir,” he responded with relief and turned the set back on. “It’s Willard. You know–the movie with Michael Jackson. It just started a few minutes ago.”
“Ah, yes. I vaguely remember it. Does he not befriend a rodent or something?”
“Yes, that’s it, sir,” Claude beamed and almost relaxed enough to rock back on his chair before catching himself and returning to a stiff upright position.
“How appropriate. An excellent movie choice. Definitely an excellent choice.” Dr. Sternlicht chuckled while the guard looked at him in confusion.
“That is quite all right, Claude,” Dr. Sternlicht explained as he placed his briefcase on the counter for inspection. “I just have a somewhat peculiar sense of humor. Never mind.
“As you noted, Claude, it is late. Would you please check me out? I must be back here early tomorrow morning and I would appreciate a few hours sleep before then.”
“No problem Dr. Sternlicht. I don’t need to check your briefcase. You’re the boss. If you’re stealing anything we’re all in big trouble.”
“Not alone Claude,” he replied with an aloof smile. “But I do like to think that I have some small impact on what we do here.
“Well, good night Claude. I hope you enjoy the movie.” Dr. Sternlicht pulled his still closed briefcase off the counter and departed.
OCTOBER 18, 2:20 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
Lyle E. shifted in his sleep and snorted quietly. Eunice L. felt him move. Also asleep, she too rolled over, swinging her arm possessively over his chest. Though she never really woke up, her fingers began to move, drawing little circles in Lyle E.’s short, but rapidly-growing, chest hair. Lyle E.’s free hand moved to caress the hand on his chest. Both smiled innocently in their sleep. The air conditioner, purifying the air in the specially designed biohazard rooms that comprised their “apartment,” continued to hum almost inaudibly.
OCTOBER 18, 8:15 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
“Dr. Sternlicht just called to say that he has overslept and will be in late today.” Sergeant Challer stood at attention while reporting to Captain Schultz.
“That man is so rigid and controlling he would never allow himself to do something as mundane as oversleep. Get a security detail out there as soon as possible. I want to know what’s really happening.”
“Yes, sir.” Sergeant Challer saluted, turned and headed out of the small office.
OCTOBER 18, 8:17 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
“Children, wake up! There seems to be a problem.” Dr. Harriman stood in the doorway to the bedroom where Lyle E. and Eunice L. were sleeping. His bathrobe was only partially closed, his hair was disheveled and his glasses hung precariously from the tip of his nose. There was a worried look on his face. Behind him, red lights were flashing and, in the background, a buzzer was sounding over and over and over.
“What’s the matter Daddy? It’s early yet, isn’t it?” Lyle E. looked bewilderedly about. His hand protectively moved around Eunice L.’s shoulders to hold her closer to him. Eunice L. awoke with a start.
“Oh my god! The alarm!” Eunice L. looked at Lyle E. with panic in her eyes. “It’s the alarm!”
OCTOBER 18, 8:16 A.M., UNDERGROUND RESEARCH FACILITY, LOCATION DELETED CONSISTENT WITH PROVISIONS OF THE NATIONAL SECURITY ACT
RRRRRINGGGG. RRRRRINGGGG. RRRRRINGGGG. RRRRRINGGGG.
“Security alert! Seal all exits and biohazard doors! Begin decontamination procedures! MOVE IT!” Schultz shouted as he ran down the hall and rounded the security desk to check out a monitor and find out what was happening.
He made it through the office door less than a second behind Sergeant Challer, legs pumping as quickly as he could make them move. He cursed under his breath with each footfall, “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!”
Comments
And now we can study
What some may call a testament of duty sense. That is - stubbornly enforcing no-longer-relevant directives that only inconvenience everyone's lives and interfere with solution finding process.
Religious differences? Oversized egos? Yes and yes, IMNSHO. Then again, I think it's time for me to devise some kind of saying about playing God. Like "If you want to play a God, make sure..." Can anyone help me with the ending? Like:
---"...your deck is stacked in your favour"
---"...no one else has the keys to the playroom"
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
How about ..."If you want
How about ...
"If you want to play god," it's good to have the keys to the universe.
OR
"If you want to play god," remember to find some gullible worshipers.
OR
"If you want to play god," read the rules of the game first.
Play God
If you want to play god, make sure you put your toys away before you come to bed!
LoL
Rita
Age is an issue of mind over matter.
If you don't mind, it doesn't matter!
(Mark Twain)
LoL
Rita
Tradeoffs-13
I do believe that a certain mad doctor is playing games with everybody.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
You are corect, sir. Now
You are corect, sir. Now the real questions are:
1. How do our protagonists find out?
2. What can they do about it?
3. what kind of disasters can a man like this wreak on the world around him?
If it can take ANY DNA
I have wondered from several chapters back at least in this great tale of your's, can the virus transform one into another animal species, say as the bastard Doctor said to the guard, a rat? Or must it be closely related DNA say a primate? If not then how far apart? Could it make you a plant or hybridize you with other forms of life? Would trying to change into a much different size or species kill the person? Would DNA from an infant make one an infant or from a old person make you an old person? If someone is dying from a genetic disease would the virus make their victim suffer the same fate or if the donor was pregnant at the time would the baby be affected? Would anyone they infect become her clone, baby and all? Lots of questions.
Remember that another doctor was already coughing at the conference and as the effects take hours to become noticeable or temporarily debilitating he could already have been accidently or deliberately infected and now infected the others. Their own damned secrecy/greed over a potential military weapon based on the virus will kill them unless they let the *prisoners* help them. What triggered the lockdown? Was it a setup by the mad doc to turn everyone trapped inside into guinea pigs for his research? or does massive infection breaking out trigger it? Why is the mad doctor conveniently NOT there when the shit hits the fan?
The bastard doctor needs to get his comeuppance and big time as do people wanting to make it a weapon. I can see the ethics of studying it AS a weapon so as to develop countermeasures/ a defense against its misuse but a weapon is sick. Germ warfare is inherently risky and potentially disastrous as viruses and bacteria change/mutate with ease.
John in Wauwatosa
John in Wauwatosa
Wow! Where to start, where
Wow! Where to start, where to start? If you can wait two chapters, at least a few of your questions will be answered. First, I need to spread some more chaos. I do answer all of your questions by the end (chapter 27), but that's a ways off, so I'll offer this in the interim.
If it will help, think of it this way, if you have the perfect virus, capable of grabbing onto any piece of DNA and replicating it according to the instructions in the collected DNA, you have the ability to change just about anything into just about anything. The catches are, what happens to the mass and can it survive the transition?
Mass could mean a 300 lb. frog instead of a 3 oz frog, in which case the cube-squared rule might apply and the poor critter would be unable to move because it's feet were too small for it's body and/or it's muscles are too weak for it's size.
The transition issue would limit you as to how different the new form would be. There's no compensation for, say a heart, to continue to exist while transitioning into a plant, so odds are you would not survive that transition. Similarly, I would wonder about an attempt to transition from a creature with a four-valve heart to a three valve heart--like the aformentioned frog.
Since anything can be used as a weapon if viewed in the proper manner, sadly yes, this is being considered a weapon by at least some people. Sadly, the same paranoid personalities who would view this as a weapon will insist on the need for security (or greed as you also called it). And yes, there are weaknesses in every form of security--no such thing as 100% secure. Think of the nonsense with the TSA and air travel as a perfect real life example of that. At best, research shows that any specific TSA secuirty procedure is about 40% successful.
Finally, the good doctor. He is a peice of work, isn't he? Let me just say that he is extremely controling and, as suggested, would NOT oversleep. Finally, since this is a novel rather than real life, you can expect something "interesting" to happen to him, although I would note that there are always those who feel my endings are not as completely satisfying as they might wish.
Well what can I say
About your endings - yeah, indeed. Remind me please, was it not you who initially made a sort of "choose your own ending" with the True Ending leaving the protagonist strapped to bed in the antagonist's house? Or put characters in a situation where they were transformed, but to obtain the ability to alter reality they had to abandon all hopes of reversing the transformation on themselves?
Hey, I don't hold it aganist you in the least - it only makes your stories seem... Darker and Edgier, perhaps, but alluring for that reason among others as well!
As for some questions - like getting youth or senility via the virus? My take is that, coming from these points:
---Every virus works by reworking the host's DNA, if it's no longer active, it remains as an insertion in the genes.
---DNA through many manipulations like solar radiation etc is getting damages throughout the course of life.
---Aging is a state when DNA damage amasses, and organs wear out
---Mass does not go away or comes from nowhere.
My conclusion - a person would likely end up at seemingly the same age as was before, but with new DNA. Thus, reforming to a baby/preteen/senior is impossible. That is the initial effect.
However, later you would start feeling an altered life expectancy. Having a senior donor would leave you with damaged DNA and you would age faster. Having a junior donor will on the other hand give you a boost.
And, even if you continually boost yourself with young donors, your organs (and brain) will still eventually put you to death.
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
Faraway
Big Closet Top Shelf
Where you can fool around like you want to and most you get is some bemused good ribbing!
I plead guilty of less than
I plead guilty of less than sugar overdose endings, and if that isn't an understatement, I don't know what is.
As to the aging issue, there's actually research beginning to come out that suggests that aging is a matter of weaknesses in the cell replication process. As I understand it, and this is not even close to my area of expertise, as cells regrow there are [1] increased risks of mutation (almost always less than beneficial to the organism) and/or [2] mistakes in how they split and couple (e.g., too many repititions of a sequence in the DNA string or extra tags of genetic material). Additionally, it seems that some cells seem to have an internal time clock and just quit working at some point. Finally, waste products build up in the brain (e.g., lewy bodies, plaques, tangles) that interfer with functioning. The classic example of this last problem is phenylketonuria (PKU) which results from improper digestion of some amino acids and can cause mental retardation.
Given all of the above, my guess is much like yours, that we could eventually overcome our current life span limitations, but not using the DNA-virus technique described in this story. If someone tried to "become younger" using the DNA-virus, if the stress of the transformation didn't kill them, the mutations and waste products would still exist. As you described it, you'd have a 16 year old with Alzheimer Disease. Repeated uses of the DNA-virus could theoretically increase opportunities for mutation and thus, like any massive stressor to the body, shorten the lifespan.
The mass issue, will come up soon in the story. Hopefully, in a relatively entertaining, if mildly creepy, way.