Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) (47 page)

BOOK: Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer)
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“Cute,” Sprite replied. “I've cross matched the Small Pox virus.
Black pox I should say.” An image of the virus was put up on his HUD. It
rotated in three dimensions for a moment, and then another sample was added
next to it. The two overlapped and then blinked, confirming a perfect match.

“This would be easier if we could delegate it,” Sprite commented.
“I'm not designed to do this sort of work,” she said, sounding caustic. She
hated pattern and shape matching.

“We each contribute in any way we can. Besides, you've identified
one pathogen faster than a normal organic could.”

“True, but that's not my point. Damn politics,” Sprite sighed.
They still didn't have the first Virology lab up.

“Its' everywhere Sprite. You yourself told me we have to live with
it,” Irons replied, smiling slightly. “It is amusing to hear you sound like me
though,” he said.

Sprite snorted at that. “Second pathogen detected. Veraxin
Hemorrhagic fever. Eighty eight percent match from the files,” she said,
replacing the Pox image with another, this a series of squiggles that were
knotted on one end.

“Reminds me of a Terran Octopus,” Irons murmured.

“Sample completed, flushing compartment. Sterilization commencing.
Data download complete. We are at marker twenty k. Commencing dip,” Phoenix
reported.

Irons watched as the image of the virus disappeared in favor of
the telemetry feed. The little craft wobbled and then dove.  After a few
minutes it returned to three thousand meters with another sample and then went
into a long orbit over the marker as its tiny science package went to work once
more analyzing the captured air.

“We're going to need water samples as well,” Sprite reminded him.
She apparently had set up a filter, she immediately spotted the first to
viruses and then focused on others. Algae were shown briefly, all dead. “Naga
Measles?” Sprite asked. An image of a virus briefly appeared and then another
overlaid it. It didn't quite match though. Both images disappeared after a
moment.

Irons sat back, closing his eyes and rubbing his brow. A
replicator dinged completed but for the time being he ignored it as he rubbed
at his eyes. “Data dump is eighty percent complete,” Phoenix reported. “How are
you going on processing?” the AI asked.

“Not well. I don't have the processing power or the native
ability,” Sprite replied. “It's in some ways pattern and shape recognition, but
this is out of my element. The orientation isn't as much of a factor as noting
what to look for and what to ignore... and how things can change or be
different.”

“Understood. Data dump complete. Flushing the chamber and
sterilizing now. Aircraft systems are within eighty percent. I wish you had put
solar panels on the wings though admiral. We could have kept this ship up
orbiting the area for a more prolonged period,” Phoenix said over the link.

The admiral grunted. “Ask me for anything but time. We'll make do.
I can make another if needed. Sitrep?” he asked, opening his eyes. He slapped
at the door for the idle replicator, pulled the door open and then pulled the
tray of respirator masks out. He tossed them onto the pile and then started
stuffing more material in.

“Admiral, the replicator can't support that much material,”
Proteus said, stopping him. He carefully took a breath and then pulled a couple
pieces out and then closed the door and hit the key to restart the sequence. He
could see the raw material breaking down inside the machine as the nanites
immediately went to work.

“Chamber flushed. Moving to the ten k marker,” Phoenix replied.

Irons sat through that sample and then got up and paced. He wasn't
impatient, he just needed to stretch. When the AI directed the drone to ground
zero he tensed though, stopping his pacing to lean over the table, hands on the
edge as he focused on the telemetry feed.

“Drone is at twenty point one percent power. Turbulence is
minimal. Beginning dive,” Phoenix reported. Immediately the drone wobbled.
Irons winced, feeling a little queasy as the feed supplanted his vision
totally. It bucked and jerked all over the place.

“What's going on?” he asked.

“Error,” Phoenix reported. “I'm getting all sorts of faults here
admiral, the craft is coming apart. I can't pull up,” he replied.

“Get what you can!” Sprite said. “Sample!”

“Chamber is full, closing door.... beginning analysis,” Phoenix
said as the altimeter wound down. They weren't going to get much, Irons
realized as the dark, almost black ground rushed up at his eyes. His vision
went white and he twisted in vain as it went to snow and then his normal vision
returned.

“What the hell happened?” Irons asked.

“I'm not sure,” Phoenix replied. “A possible engine or control
fault. Unfortunately I cut the telemetry feed in favor of the visual and data
feed from the science package. The data feed needed the most bandwidth.”

“We didn't get much,” Sprite replied. “Or should I say, much I can
understand let alone interpret. I'll need time to process this. Time and
processing power,” she said.

“I'll make you a couple more motherboards,” Irons sighed.

“Thank you,” Sprite said.

“I too can help,” Phoenix offered. “I'm not designed to analyze
shapes but I always liked a challenge,” he said.

“Glad you can help son,” Sprite joked, pointing to a packet from
the feed to process. “Start there, I'll start here. That is until...”

“I'm working on it commander,” Irons ground out between clenched
teeth.

“Sorry,” Sprite replied sheepishly.

“In the meantime, send what you have to the others. The
virologists and doctors I mean. Send it to any tablet or other piece of
equipment they have online with your notes and a request to begin processing,”
Irons said.

“On it,” Sprite said. “Though I think Phoenix, since you've also
got a copy of the data you could just send it direct to Sin City?”

“The transceivers may get it, I don't know. I can try,” Phoenix
replied.

The admiral sighed and keyed up more motherboards in his
construction list.

...*...*...*...*...

The experts compared the data from both probes. Doctor Ivanov and
his assistants were hampered by their organic nature as well as in having to
use tablets to visualize the various samples.

Fortunately the AI had the visual recognition software Sprite
wrote on the fly to aid them. Doctor Ivanov quickly eliminated some of the
samples as common airborne microorganisms. They noted that below a thousand
meters there were no such microorganisms present at all. The pathogens were
apparently very thorough.

When they realized this they focused on the samples from the lower
altitude. There wasn't much to go on from the last probe run, but enough from the
previous runs to start on.

Together, Doctor Ivanov, Phoenix, and Sprite worked until midnight
until they had tentatively identified each pathogen and came up with a list of
suspected pathogens for the others to begin working on. The AI weren't certain of
some of the diagnoses, but Ivanov signed off on each of them. They were close
enough for him to see common elements. Those are listed at the end of the list
with a probability score, others that fell below fifty percent were highlighted
for later review. Doctor La Plaz, a colleague of Doctor Ivanov would be landing
in Landing sometime soon. His fresh young eyes would hopefully pick things out
quickly.

Still the list was frightening. Most of the pathogens were
hemorrhagic fevers like Ebola, extremely virulent and all fatal. Each sapient
species had at least one hemorrhagic fever.

Some of the others were less of an immediate danger. Veraxin MS
would attack the neural motor skills of a Veraxin, eventually cutting off their
autonomic functions such as breathing and their hearts. Others like Naga
Measles were a problem, but more of a long term one.

There were two strains of Small Pox, the already identified Black
Pox and a more lingering version that was designed for zoology. Most likely
designed to attack Neo's, Sprite judged. The Doctor agreed.

Typhus, Cholera, Influenza, Tuberculosis, Malaria, Leprosy, Yellow
Fever, Bubonic and pneumonic plague, an airborne version of HIV, Prions like
mad cow disease, the list went on and on. Dozens for Terran species alone. Some
were of strains that looked similar, they weren't certain if they were modified
to be vaccine and antibiotic resistant or if they had been re-engineered to
attack other species. Some may have been designed to jump across species,
something that truly was a terrifying thought.

Unfortunately they didn't have much more than a possible identity,
neither probe had had the time to gather information about how long they could
live outside a host, how long they took to infect or kill a host... there were
so many unanswered questions. Despair however wasn't an option.

They ran through the list, scoring each virus or pathogen in terms
of danger. Doctor Ivanov didn't understand some of them of course, but each of
the AI had access to the medical records so they could process data about each
and pass that same data on to the doctor. Near one am the doctor signed off,
mumbling about reading the various documentation while dealing with his lab set
up.

Sprite immediately passed on the list of identified pathogens to
the immunologist doctors and pharmacists who had been waiting for such
material. They couldn't do much to make vaccines but they could work out
diagnostic symptom charts and find treatment options.

To kill the viruses, however many, would require artificial gene
sequencing to form vaccines. That was a problem, the medical equipment lock
outs prevented such actions.

...*...*...*...*...

“So, um, we haven't been introduced,” a short brown haired young
Hispanic male said, holding a hand out to Irons as an orderly wheeled the
latest cart load of materials out. Other people were crowding the door trying
to get materials in. A few of the people were lookie loos, craning their necks
to see what was going on inside. Irons grunted as the little medic stepped
hastily around the orderlies and held his hand out once more.

“You are Fleet Admiral Irons?” the young man asked. Irons noted
the white medical jacket and stethoscope. La Plaz was embroidered on his left
lapel above his pocket protector.

“Yes doctor Paco La Plaz?” he asked.

The young man's eyes widened slightly as they shook hands. “You've
heard of me? I just got in,” he said turning as they disengaged the handshake.
“I haven't even checked in with Doctor Richards yet. Wherever she is,” he said
frowning.

“She's in the main conference room,” Sprite said from the speaker
on the admiral's arm. She immediately put the bio of the twenty four year old
prodigy up on the admiral's HUD. There was little there, his name, Paco La
Plaz, and the fact that he was one of the best doctors on the planet, also one
of the few virologists on the planet.

“Say... um...” the doctor blinked, momentarily taken aback.

“That was one of my AI's, Lieutenant Commander Sprite. And I have
heard of you, Doctor Richards gave us a brief about her virologists a while
back,” the admiral explained.

“Well, not
just
a virologist really,” La Plaz admitted,
rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish display. “I'm, well, I guess you
could say a child prodigy, or at least I was. I have five doctorates,
Neurology, micro surgery, Endocrinology, Virology, Immunology, and I've got
several others I'm working on,” he said sounding smug.

“Busy boy,” Sprite replied with a slight smile in her voice.

“I try,” Paco replied, shrugging. “Helen doesn't have many
surgeons, so I started that field too.”

“Good to know,” the admiral replied with a nod as he indicated the
young man should come in. He closed the door behind the young doctor.

Doctor La Plaz looked around, staring at all the devices. “Quite a
lot you've got here,” he said. “Is that a computer farm?” he asked, indicating
the cluster of motherboards in one corner of the room.

The admiral looked at the cluster and nodded. “Yes, we need it to
help process the samples. Right now we're doing visual sample recognition since
you weren't available and Doctor Ivanov is busy,” Irons replied.

“Ah,” the young man said nodding. “Not going to ask me my age?” he
asked, smiling.

“Not if you don't ask mine,” Irons growled, sitting and looking up
at the young man. Ports on his right hand opened as Proteus jacked into the
nearest replicator.

“My... wow...” Paco said, eyes wide as he watched the admiral's
right arm change. “Is... I mean... does it hurt?” he asked weakly, voice rising
near the end.

“No,” Irons said, looking at his arm.

“Oh.”

“Can I help you with something Doctor?” Irons asked.

“I'm well, I want in on things and I was told I could get one of
those electronic devices from you. I've got a lot to catch up on and we don't
have a lot of time,” he admitted.

“Where have you been?” Sprite asked. “I have you on file but not a
location,” she said as the admiral handed the doctor a tablet and cell phone.

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