Wincing at Light

<– Chapter 13 / Chapter 15 –>

It was late, and Brett had consumed enough coffee to make his stomach burn. A partially emptied cup sat in front of him, still steaming. They sat around the oval table in the cramped admin conference room just down from his office. Liston sat to his left, Djen immediately to his right, with Ilam one chair over from her.

Liston had dark, bruised circles beneath his eyes and his shoulders were bowed with fatigue. Liston was the reason they were here. Brett had gathered Djen and Ilam because he recognized this as the best opportunity to discuss their preliminary conclusions.

Liston spoke first. “Tappen died just after twenty-one hundred hours. I finished the autopsy and some preliminary investigative work ten minutes ago. With thanks to Miss Riley, I have ruled out meningitis and its complications as a cause of death.”

“Tell us what you’ve discovered,” Brett said gently.

“The agent identified from the Sperling screens was also present in Tappen. A quick survey of both portions of the meninges themselves and the cerebro-spinal fluid indicated a considerable infestation of organisms ranging from the one to three micron diameter range. I did not explore sharper magnifications, though I may in the coming days.” There was a great weariness in Liston’s tone. He seemed to sigh his words from between his lips. “A re-examination of the fluid obtained from the other three known victims has revealed similar infestations in each of them, though I haven’t yet confirmed the vectors of transmission, Commander.”

Brett nodded in understanding. “We expected as much. We need to determine what they were doing there. Are they basically parasitic in nature? We know that their occupation isn’t benign, but is it targeted?”

Liston rubbed his hands across his forehead as though stroking at a headache. “The organisms appear to be single celled. They don’t have the mass or the sophistication of structure which would indicate any form of sentience, however rudimentary. Terrestrial or not, it is a fair approximation to consider them bacterial in nature, and like the bacteria with which we’re familiar from our childhood illnesses, they can make us terribly sick without comprehending what it is they do. I think Tappen represented a hospitable biosphere and adequate nutrient material, nothing more.”

Djen said, “But they also attacked the Sperling Engine. That suggests something more than opportunistic parasitism.”

Liston waved his hands. “I’m forwarding no arguments, Miss Riley. The organism hasn’t been adequately studied by me or anyone else for us to pretend that we understand its habits. What I observed from the body of Tappen was an efficient and aggressive occupation of the meninges as a sort of staging area for a massive assault on the cortical tissues. It is my guess that like most bacteria, these entities reproduce rapidly and geometrically in a resource wealthy environment. Infestation proceeds in irregular clumps along the hippocampus and amygdala, though it avoids the hypothalamus and the less evolved reptilian sectors of the brain. The neocortical portions displayed significant infection, though more pronounced in the right hemisphere than in the left. I won’t forward any arguments on that, either. It could be coincidental. I’ll have to wait for Ritter and the others to pass before I can confirm any of this as a definitive pattern.”

Brett prompted him. “But you have a guess or two.”

“I’d like to attach Ritter to the magnetoencephalograph first. I should at least pretend that I’ve got some evidence before I go shooting my mouth off.”

“We need all the thoughts we can get on this, raw or not,” Brett said.

Liston sighed heavily. It was clear that voicing his speculations didn’t appeal to him as particularly sound judgement. “Preliminarily, then. I suspect the charge of parasitism is correct. It is the rare parasite that allows itself to kill its host, but that may be as much a fact of inadequate knowledge as anything else. Fits and starts at adaptation to the human biological system. I note in that supposition that the hypothalamus and reptilian brain segments were, as I have said, largely unoccupied. My initial reaction is that the organisms discerned their functions as support of the autonomic nervous system and maintenance basic bodily continuity. Largely, those portions of the brain occupied with the preservation of the humanoid husk, if you will, were left alone.

“Contrarily, the hippocampus, amygdala and right hemisphere–those parts that we identify with experiential and emotional-cognitive activity–were the most heavily infiltrated. They lined the synaptic canyons by the score. Doing what, precisely, I don’t know. Drawing what sustenance, I also can’t yet say. But if we continue in the vein of pure conjecture, the pattern holds when we consider the late actions of Mr. Ritter. A critical infestation of the synaptic pathways would more or less logically lead us to assume some interruption in the normal thought patterns. Erratic behavior would make sense, in much the same way that we would allow it for anyone with a classic brain fever or other neurological issue.”

Djen waited until he was finished, then said, “I compared the partial sample of an organism taken from one of the screen wires with samples Liston obtained during the autopsy. We know these are the same organisms that attacked Engine Nine. We don’t know how they got there, and we don’t know why. We also don’t know how. It occurred to us that Ritter could very well have carried the organisms back from the geothermal vent where temperatures were more hospitable than on the surface, then come into the station in the lining of his e-suit from the tear we know he had. That would form a convincing link.

“On the other hand, there aren’t any explanations for their ability to enter the Sperling Engine except via the standard louver intake channels, which means they have to simultaneously exist in the planet’s atmosphere. The combination of extreme environments is unlikely. One or the other would be acceptable, but not both. We have from earth examples of extremophiles that could exist in arctic conditions. We know of bacteria that live in the hot springs and next to hydrothermal vents twelve thousand meters below the surface of the ocean.

“What we don’t have is a strong precedent for a bacterial caliber organism that can adapt to two such diverse extremes.”

Brett nodded. “But we have evidence that Liston’s bacteria and the screen vandals are the same organism? You both have microscopic images.”

Liston and Djen nodded uneasily.

“Then we’ll accept that for now as adequate.”

“Only under protest, pending further investigation,” Liston added. “We can’t rule out station-side contamination of the screens. Tappen bore the bacteria in abundance, but Djen has found just the one partial sample thus far.”

Djen agreed with him. “We need fresh in vivo samples for comparison and testing. We need them drawn from their natural ecosystem and devoid of contamination. We need to understand their biological processes. What they eat, what they don’t. How rapidly they reproduce.”

“We’ll get to that,” Brett said, holding up his hand to restrain her. “Doctor, what’s your estimation of who among the crew might currently be infected?”

Liston looked away, uneasy.

“Doctor?”

“A shorter list would be those who probably are not,” he said quietly. “Even if Cassandra’s numbers are accurate and most of the organisms are concentrated in the known victims, I can put the count discovered in Tappen alone into the multiple billions. Twelve percent of just his total would make it likely we’ve all ingested or respirated at least one. We may not all be candidates for severe infestation, but I’m beginning to find that unlikely as well. The antibiotics may slow them down, but they haven’t helped Sievers and Jervis thus far.”

It was precisely what Brett had been waiting to hear. It was the only way he might convince them of what had to follow. Brett pressed on a bit further.

“What’s your prognosis for Ritter?”

“In medical parlance, Commander, my prognosis is ‘very guarded’. In normal terms, I’d give him less than that snowball’s chance. We simply don’t have time to make a proper analysis of the organism to determine a proper course of treatment. Tappen received a complete battery of antibiotic cocktails without any noticeable improvement. Ritter is less advanced, but I don’t hold out much hope for him after what I’ve seen. Sievers and Jervis will die as well.” Liston lifted his eyes to Brett’s face and frowned. “We will quite probably all die.”

“Except for Ilam,” Brett prompted.

“Ilam hasn’t shown any symptoms to this date, but Sievers and Jervis didn’t bear any symptoms as late as yesterday morning. Give him time.” Liston nodded toward Ilam. “Please forgive the bluntness.”

Ilam lowered his eyes and shrugged as though he would slink beneath the table.

“What were the results of his CSF analysis?” Brett continued.

Liston finally flapped his hands in annoyance. “It was clear, but that’s hardly definitive at this point. His count could be low enough that the sample we obtained was free of infection.”

Brett allowed his face to harden. “I don’t think so, Doctor.”

“And why do you say that?”

He smiled, all teeth and feigned confidence. “Let me tell you why and then let me tell you what we’re going to do about it.”

#

“You do realize,” Liston said, tapping his fingers against the table surface, “that this is not only patently illegal, it is stupid as well.”

Brett studied the doctor and framed his response carefully. Ilam appeared to cringe. He had known from the beginning that Liston would be the toughest sell of all.

Brett said, “How is it foolish?”

“The Kurzweil Convention expressly prohibits the use of nanomech technology for the non-medical enhancement of functional human subjects above the minimum intelligence level.”

“That’s how it’s illegal,” Brett answered. “I want to know why you think it’s stupid.”

“My God, man! How can you even ask that? How many people die each year from faulty recreational implants of nanomech units? How many dope themselves into comas because of one line of bad coding or one misplaced nano-agent or one faulty transmitter?”

Djen interposed, “But nanomechs are used as antibiotics. They’re used as painkillers and oxygenators and antidepressants. That’s proven technology and proven biomedicine.”

Brett gave her a barely noticeable wink of appreciation for her support. She caught it; he could tell by the sly smile that curved her lips.

Liston made a visible effort to calm himself. “But you’re talking about inserting battalions of mechs directly into the cerebro-spinal fluid and subsequently into the brain. The Chinese attempted that in the thirties. The U.S. followed suit in the early forties. All of the results were eventual coma, decreased functionality and ultimate fatality. We don’t have the programming precision to carry out work that sophisticated. The Kurzweil Convention recognized that.”

“Kurzweil was designed to keep superpowers from developing genius level super-soldiers with active control over their neurological functions. It was a human rights envelope rather than a technology envelope,” Brett said. “And for all of your dope addicts convulsing in the streets, there are five million daily satisfied customers, whether you’re talking college kids with synaptic boring to increase their short term recall or backdoor erotic dreamhuts in Blackside Vegas.”

“And that’s illegal as well.”

Djen laced her fingers together and watched Liston. “The only people with the power to make legal judgments on this station are Brett and Ashburn.”

“I could lose my license just for countenancing such a stunt.”

Brett shrugged. “If we live through it, no one will ever know. If we don’t, you won’t care about your license. What I don’t want to hear is that we shouldn’t attempt it because you believe it’s impossible. We know that isn’t true because Ilam’s proved it is for the last nineteen months. We have the power to reshape a planetary atmosphere on a molecular level, and without getting into a deep mathematical debate, I have trouble believing what we’re talking about here is much more complex than that.”

Liston growled, “Unless we fuck it up, Commander. There is no margin for error in this type of procedure. Thirty individual nanomech protocols, all scrupulously programmed. It’s impossible to believe we won’t make at least one error, miss one rogue unit that performs catastrophic damage in the most sensitive of human organs. Can you live with that on your conscience?”

Brett met him with a resolute glare. “Given the alternative, I certainly can.”

“One foul up is a best case scenario. What if there are more? How many lives are you willing sacrifice before we get it right?”

“That’s where we basically disagree. I think one is a worst case scenario realistically. Cassandra has the capability of performing this task within extreme fractional parameters. She performs similar tasks every morning when she recalibrates the engines. Yes, this work is finer. Yes, it requires more attention and a critical devotion of processing power, but it isn’t beyond her capabilities, and that’s what matters.

“On the other hand, the other alternative–the true worst case scenario–is that we sit about twiddling our thumbs while more of the crew become increasingly infected. Certainly, the nanomech insertion may kill one or all of us. But Tappen and Ritter and the others are currently demonstrating that the alien organisms will definitely kill all of us unless we find a way to prevent that.”

Brett spun his chair toward Ilam. “Nutshell it for the good doctor again, Ilam.”

Ilam tapped his fingers together nervously, his eyes cast down so that he peered at nothing but his reflection in the table’s surface.

“Um, the procedure is quite simple. We know that Earth Forces Terraform Command has mandated regular–ah, monthly–cerebral imaging with a high definition holographic laser scanner. This is in part due to the study of deep space isolation psychology commissioned by the government as part of this project. The secondary function is to provide an updated mapping of brain wave patterns and individualized cerebral center activity readings for Cassandra’s remote sensing devices.”

“I know why we do the imagings,” Liston snapped.

Ilam ducked his head as though Liston had struck at him. “Yes, of course. On the other hand, it isn’t a utilized medical function to actively correlate the remote sensing files and the imaging files to form a cohesive three-dimensional graph of each individual’s cerebral function. We don’t use that data. Cassandra, however, does for just the reasons outlined. She can identify each of us in a variety of activities by the electrical impulses generated by our brain wave patterns. These are constantly updated records. The, um, procedure which I attempted wasn’t aimed at providing a dramatic increase in my native capacities. I wanted increased access to memory and the ability to develop secure and stable synaptic pathways as I pursued my various studies.

“The nanomechs I have used contain macroprocessing units. They are multifunctional agents capable of performing up to nine million calculations per second. Their primary instruction coding involves the detection of rapid synaptic firing across a hemispheric net, convergence on active synaptic nodes and aggressive maintenance of the pathways that are formed. They are limited by an implanted parameter set which describes the specific neurochemical topography of my last imaging. They can only support already active and observed-formation synaptic links. Any other alterations are to be excised.” Ilam shrugged vaguely. “That was my protection from rogue units or possible side effects like embolism. I did enough reading to recognize the primary dangers of releasing critters straight into the cortex. Cassandra produced the majority of the coding as a simulation. I adapted it where necessary.”

Liston rolled his eyes. “You’re fortunate you didn’t lobotomize yourself.”

“I did the work,” Ilam said. “There was minimal risk. Much of the theory and basic application had already been done by Parker and Johnson during their trials with sub-functionals in Oslo. Synaptic nanotherapy is a proven technique. And they were post-Kurzweil. No one complained about their methodology or their legality.”

Liston grimaced. “Many things are done to sub-functionals that would be considered outrageous for the rest of the population.”

Brett stopped them there. “I didn’t bring this up to debate the current condition of the mental health system, gentlemen. Ilam has shown us that it’s possible. He has an existing protocol that appears to work. I want us to get started with the implementation immediately.”

“The flaw in your logic is egregious,” Liston said. “Ilam has tentatively proven that it works on a non-infected brain. If we accept our current understanding that these organisms produce physical alterations to the topography and synaptic patterns of the neocortex, we would run a considerable risk by interposing a nanomech regimen with instructions to reconstruct the last known image. Damage would be done that we can’t predict.”

Djen nodded. “On the other hand, we can’t take a fresh image now that we know people are infected and hold the line there. We don’t know what sorts of neurological changes have already been effected. I mean, we can compare the two most recent imagings, but that doesn’t mean we have any concrete understanding of what is different on an experiential and behavioral level.”

“But we would be holding the line,” Brett argued. “Ilam’s programmed ‘aggression’ will at least keep the organisms from making further inroads. There may be some neurological damage. There may be some cell loss or even memory dysfunction, but it’s an alternative, possibly our best alternative. It’s a path I’m willing to explore because it also holds the possibility that the nanomechs may flush the organism from the individual’s system altogether.”

“That’s hypothetical,” Liston objected. “The organism may simply be held at bay in a pocket we haven’t yet discovered. I won’t agree to any treatment modality until we’ve had a further chance to study the organisms.”

“Understandable,” Brett said, nodding. “The first priority is to obtain uncontaminated samples. In the meantime, we’ll begin the process of constructing cross-referenced wave and imaging charts for each of the crew based on the latest known data. Cassandra can handle that task without much input. If you will, Doctor, continue with your analysis of Tappen and the remaining sick. That information might be useful down the line, especially if we can determine differences between the habits of the external and internal organisms.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to add fresh imagings of Ritter, Sievers and Jervis to that list,” Ilam pointed out. “It might offer a sense of the progression of the infection.”

“Definitely,” Liston said. “They offer a fairly defined series of disease stages.”

“Pull Micah in for the analysis of the organisms we’ve got. He’s our top biologist.” Brett watched them, sketching his gaze from one to the other. “And let’s keep this quiet in the meantime. The crew is calm at the moment while they believe they’ve escaped the meningitis threat. They don’t need to know anything else until we’ve got viable options to present to them. If it comes down to the nanomechs as our only solution, we won’t be forcing it on anyone. Every crewman will have to decide if they’re willing to accept the obvious risk, and I don’t want them to have to think about it until the absolute end. Is that understood?”

There was muttered agreement all around. After a moment or two of silence, Liston cleared his throat.

“We haven’t discussed the most obvious issue related to these organisms.”

“Which is?”

“If I understand you, your intent is not just the development of a therapy to preserve the crew, but to discover how to effectively kill the organism.”

Brett inclined his head. “Given the side-effects we’ve seen from cohabitation so far, I think that’s wise, don’t you?”

Liston shrugged in half-hearted acquiescence. “But I also understand that this represents the first documented contact with extra-terrestrial life. The folks back on Earth will not be pleased if our research is directed solely toward expulsion and eradication rather than rigorous scientific study, especially if we leave them nothing further to examine at the end of the day. And I believe complete study is mandated in our contract agreements.”

Brett raised an eyebrow. “We’ll learn plenty about them with what we’ve already got on our plates. But I understand that isn’t the same thing as proper research, so I’ll ask you the question I asked myself. Which will take more time, learning to kill them or learning in depth about how they kill us?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“I’m glad, because I think so, too. We don’t have time for a complete and accurate study, not if we accept as our primary goal the preservation of Persia Station personnel. This is a hostile organism regardless of the fact that it may not intend to be destructive. We can’t coexist, and frankly, I don’t intend to spare our limited resources for analysis of something that has a known effect. I want it as our primary goal the development of a preventative biosphere inside Persia Station–a humans only biosphere. Everything else is peripheral.”

“But what do we tell them when they question our priorities? This is life, Commander. Whatever else it may be, it is the first evidence of another lifeform in our universe, and it will be argued that the discovery alone is immense.”

“I’ll say that we were doing our job as we understood it. We’re preparing this planet for cyanobacterial insertion and eventual human habitation. That’s it. That’s our contracted responsibility. Part of that responsibility is keeping the crew hale and whole so they can perform their duties.”

Liston chewed his lip uneasily. “Terraform Command isn’t going to like that. If we do this incorrectly, we may not get another opportunity.”

“We may not want another opportunity,” Ilam said before Brett could answer. “If you’re correct, if the organism is capable of translating successfully from one atmospheric extreme to another, there’s no reason to believe it wouldn’t survive ecopoiesis and later terraforming. Archae Stoddard could become a paradise, but as long as the organism remains, it would be uninhabitable.”

Brett picked up his coffee cup and studied its edges. Liston made a legitimate argument, one that Cassandra herself had stated. He said, “I don’t bear any illusions that we can purge the planet of a native bacteria. Should we survive, we may very well find ourselves unemployed. We may find ourselves subject to some abuse because we didn’t follow proper scientific rigor in our exploration of the organism. When radio contact with Command HQ returns, I’ll be more than happy to pass this whole mess on to them for their decision and their analysis if that’s what they want. If they say we’re done, I’ll live with that. I’ll be poorer than I would have been, but it’ll get me home five years early. I’d call that a fair trade.

“I’m going to do the immediate thing and preserve the lives of my crew and the integrity of my station. If someone higher up or greener in orientation doesn’t like that, doesn’t view that as a sufficiently noble goal. . .well, I say fuck them. That’s my official position on first contact.”

<– Chapter 13 / Chapter 15 –>