Star Trek: Oaths (Star Trek: Starfleet Corps of Engineers) Read online

  “No, I guess not,” Fabian said, after thinking about it a moment. “We could take out the airborne viruses, I suppose, but we couldn’t do anything for the viruses already in the person’s—wait a minute! Why can’t we use the biofilters to take out the viruses in people’s blood?”

  “Because it’s getting into the DNA of cells, including blood cells. That’s what viruses do. We might be able to reduce the viral load of some patients, but it’s a stopgap measure at best that would have to be applied to the entire population, and that’s tough with three and a half million people.”

  “Damn. And it sounded so good.”

  Lense sighed. “Welcome to my life.”

  “Okay, we couldn’t do anything for the viruses already in the person’s DNA, and they’d just stay sick. And they’d keep pumping out the virus. And even if we could, the air on the planet is so saturated they just get reinfected. We couldn’t keep them all up here while we clean up the planet, and we couldn’t make an oxygen tent the size of a city.”

  “Mmm.” Lense had gotten up and was looking at another batch of lab equipment. There’d been little indication that she’d heard a word he said.

  Fabian continued talking out loud. “I guess fixing a human virus is a lot like fixing a computer virus.”

  “I doubt that.” She spoke without looking up.

  “No, I don’t think they’re that dissimilar. Correct me if I’m wrong, but when we fix the damage from an infected computer system, we have to go in and cut out the virus coding, repair the damaged files and data, and then program the system to recognize the virus in the future and not let it infect the system again.”

  “Yes. But the problem remains, what do you do when the data is so horribly corrupted that no recovery is possible?”

  “Hope that you’ve made a backup recently.”

  “That’s my problem. The virus has pretty much totaled every biological backup, all the places where there would be an uninfected strand of DNA to work with.”

  “Oh.”

  She looked at the screen. “And this thing just eats up cells. The human immune system isn’t designed to handle viruses, it primarily targets proteins. It certainly isn’t set up to handle this sort of thing.”

  “Yep. Sounds like it’s time for a systems upgrade.”

  “If only—say that again.”

  “Say what again?”

  “It’s time for a systems upgrade.”

  “It’s time for a systems upgrade. What about it?”

  Lense stayed very still for ten seconds. Then she almost attacked her combadge. “Lense to Gold.”

  “Gold here. What is it?”

  “Get down to sickbay. We have a solution!”

  Captain’s Personal Log, Stardate 53665.8.

  Dr. Lense had just called me from sickbay, claiming she had worked out a cure to Sherman’s Plague. I went down there to be briefed.

  TRANSCRIPT BEGINS

  G: Doctor?

  L: Come in, come in! I’ve got it. It came to me in a flash. I’m working out the details of it now.

  G: Where’s Stevens off to? I just passed him in the hall.

  L: I sent him ahead to start the work on the transporters. He’s going to have to keep them running hot for probably at least thirty-six hours straight to handle the load. He wants to make sure they’re ready as soon as I have it ready.

  G: For what?

  L: For the cure to work. It’s going to take a couple of engineering tricks to get everything going, but—

  G: Whoa, whoa, slow down. From the beginning, and with the small words?

  L: We’ve got a way around it. Sherman’s Plague just cuts through the human immune system like it wasn’t there. The immune system was never designed to handle something like this. So we’re building a new immune system. I’m writing the DNA sequences now. Thank heaven the planet is almost entirely human stock. I don’t want to think about the time it would take to write multiple versions of the enzymes. Good thing the last organ affected is the brain—if not, even when we fixed the virus you’d lose memory and learned behavior, because those cells would be destroyed ….

  G: Wait a minute. Explain to me what you’re doing.

  L: Okay, it’s something like this. I’ve developed a few potential cures here, all variations on the same theme. First is DNA that we’ll append directly to the cells of the infected—not too hard. The new sequences will go in and respond directly to Sherman’s Plague, preventing it from causing any more damage.

  We have a series of steps. Step one we’ve already done, figuring out what’s causing this and how it works. Step two: identify the viral DNA sequences in every infected cell in a body. Step three: remove those sequences and rejoin the human DNA, making repairs and restoring to the original as closely as possible. Step four: cause the immune system to recognize the virus and prevent it from reinfecting the cells. Step five: repair the damage on a tissue level rather than cellular, restoring organ function and what have you. Step six: eliminating the virus from the environment, so this plague never happens again. Step one is already done. Step two and three go together. We need an enzyme complex—

  G: Pardon?

  L: Think natural nanotech.

  G: Got it.

  L: The enzyme complex needs to be able to read the DNA of the chromosomes and recognize the viral sequences. Luckily, the virus doesn’t change its own DNA sequences—if it did, the problem would be almost unsolvable. Once it finds a viral sequence, it needs to excise it and degrade it, then it needs to rejoin the organism’s own DNA, which was interrupted by the virus. Fortunately, we don’t have to design this enzyme complex from scratch, we’re going to use off-the-shelf parts.

  G: What parts?

  L: The basic structure is a ribosome, which is a normal part of a cell that turns RNA into proteins. We’re recoding it to recognize this particular viral sequence.

  G: Go on.

  L: Then we’re going to attach a DNA endonuclease, which is part of the normal DNA repair machinery that prevents mutations by removing pieces of DNA. And then we add a ligase, which will glue the two ends back together.

  G: Step four?

  L: Step four … the virus is designed—

  G: Designed? This was deliberate?

  L: Sorry. Bad choice of terms. The virus protects itself by turning off the ability of the immune system to recognize and destroy it, like most viruses. Adenovirus does it all the time.

  G: Never heard of it.

  L: The common cold.

  G: We cured that, didn’t we?

  L: Stop interrupting, please. We need to duplicate an immune system, with modifications so that the virus is unable to shut it off.

  G: A nontrivial problem.

  L: Yes. But again, we’re working with off-the-shelf parts and building on them.

  G: Step five, we already know how to do.

  L: Once the virus is removed so no further damage is caused, yes. Simple, if we can do it in time. Our factors are time and the sheer number of patients that have to be treated. We’re going to tap every available resource to pull that off.

  G: And step six?

  L: Wiping it out in the ecosystem. Getting the population immune will help effect that, as the virus then will have no place to live. My guess is that it will burn out on its own in about two months. We can improve on those numbers by releasing disassemblers into the air to break down the airborne pathogen. Search and destroy. We may also have to consider a controlled destruction of livestock, once we have an idea of what other species this infects, if any.

  G: Good. So when can we take the next steps?

  L: Very soon. I’m working on the precise identifiers now. So to do all this, we’re going to have to add a forty-seventh chromosome.

  G: What?

  L: No way around it. It’s a gigantic amount of data and this is the only way to do it. What we’ll have to set up is a sort of triage. First, we’re going to have to run the most critical cases through the main transporter
and add the chromosome directly to their DNA when we rematerialize them. At the same time, we’re going to be using the cargo transporters as long-distance replicators, seeding the atmosphere of the planet with an artificial virus as widely as possible, which implants the chromosome. We hook it to helper cells, which will allow the virus to quickly reproduce, with limits so that it can’t reproduce without the helper cells. Once they get into the air, they should multiply and spread, infecting the rest of the population with the cure, which should propagate through the body in the next forty-eight hours or so. We’re going to have to get all of our people into environmental suits, as they’re still early enough in the stages that a full genetic rewrite probably won’t be necessary for them for another few days, so that should give us enough time. At least I hope not, I’m not positive yet if I’ll be able to pull this off on the non-humans. We’ll have to beam them up to the ship so they can eat and the like, but we can do that—somebody’s going to have to spell Fabian at the transporters after a while anyway.

  G: And this is all that you’ve got?

  L: What do you mean, “this is all that you’ve got?” It’ll work. It’s our best shot.

  G: I see. Doctor, I’m afraid I have to say no. You can’t do it. You can’t perform the procedure. Federation law is very clear on this point.

  L: Excuse me?

  G: DNA resequencing and genetic tampering is strictly forbidden, except in cases of serious birth defects. Find another way.

  L: There is no other way, Captain. This is it.

  G: There has to be an alternative to genetically reengineering the entire population of a planet. Can’t we genetically modify the virus itself?

  L: We could have if we’d gotten here early enough, but it’s already in everybody’s system. The damage is already done.

  G: What about having the transporter remove the virus itself?

  L: Not an option either. It would take far too long to have the computers go through and check for the damage from the virus, and it might introduce errors into the rematerialization. It’s much easier to add the chromosome, and then have it do the necessary work. Besides, your version is genetic modification as well.

  G: What does Emmett say?

  L: He has no valid opinion.

  G: How can he have no valid opinion? How can you say that?

  L: He has no valid opinion. His programming won’t account for it; there’s nothing in there about proscribed procedures. He seems to be unable even to consider it. We tried running it past him and he said he was unable to perform the procedure.

  G: That settles it. It’s not going to be done.

  L: No, Captain. You don’t have a valid medical opinion either.

  G: I beg your pardon?

  L: You have no idea as to what can or can’t be done, what should or should not be done. The only thing you’re willing to put faith in is what people in a little office on the other side of the galaxy are dictating to you.

  G: No negotiation, Doctor. This is what you have to do. Do it by the book.

  L: You’re an idiot. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. You’re being a fool.

  G: You’re not a free agent in this. You’re lucky that you are allowed to practice medicine at all right now.

  L: Oh, really?

  G: Yes. I’m sorry, but—

  L: Computer. Voice ID, Doctor Elizabeth Lense.

  C: Voice ID confirmed.

  L: Captain David Gold is becoming agitated and overwrought, and is showing signs of clear cognitive difficulties. Under Starfleet Medical Regulation 121, Section A, I am preparing to relieve him of command.

  G: What?!

  L: Emmett, activate. Wake up.

  EMH: Good afternoon, Doctor.

  G: Doctor—

  L: The captain is becoming very agitated. Prepare a sedative—two ccs of damitol.

  G: What do you think you’re doing?

  L: I may need your assistance in restraining him, Emmett. Don’t hurt him—he’s obviously confused. Possibly delusional.

  G: Dear God, you’re serious.

  L: Serious as a mass grave. Which is what I’m going to have if I don’t get back to work here.

  G: Don’t be a putz, Doctor. I can’t let you do this.

  L: Let me put it to you in simple, easy-to-understand words, Captain. There is a plague ravaging the population of the planet below us. I am the closest thing to a functioning medical authority within a light year, which makes every person down there my patient. I have prescribed a regimen of treatment which, according to my ability and judgment, I consider for the best benefit of my patients. And I have a person up here who is attempting to prevent me from saving their lives.

  G: I want their lives saved, too, but you’re mutating them!

  L: You see? You don’t even know what I’m doing. You have no idea. All you can do is help me do this or get out of my way. You can’t do it by yourself.

  G: Doctor, I would be very careful if I were you. This is mutiny. Comput—

  L: Shush shush shush. Understand me, Captain. You need me right now a lot more than I need you. Because I guarantee you, if you don’t let me do this, your career will be over. I will report to the board of inquiry that you overrode the advice of your ship’s medical officer, and as a result, allowed millions of sentient beings to die needlessly. Your career—no, your life will be over. I can do it with or without you, Captain, and frankly at this point I don’t care which. You can’t do it without me.

  I can save lives here, Captain, and by God I will not let you or some silly law prevent me from doing that. Now, are you going to take responsibility for what’s going to happen, or am I?

  Captain, it’s going to take me at least an hour before I can start applications. I have to finish designing the resequencing enzymes and run them through computer modeling, and Fabian has to finish rewiring the transporters. I have work to do either way, so you have an hour to make up your mind. With or without you, Captain. In the meantime, get out of my sickbay and let me work.

  TRANSCRIPT ENDS

  * * *

  What else could I do? I left.

  To be honest, arguing wasn’t going to do anything but escalate the situation, and she might make good on her threat. And in any case, it would have wasted valuable time.

  I believe her threat is not an idle one. There are only a few people on the ship now. She could certainly claim medical authority to have me removed from command, even temporarily, leaving her free to do whatever she was going to do anyway.

  She has given me an hour to make a decision. But if this decision is going to be made, it’s going to be made by rational people thinking it through, not because one stressed-out person blackmailed another into it. I do not cave in to blackmail.

  I dislike having to essentially hand over command to a member of my crew because they have more relevant knowledge of the issue at hand than I do. Does that give them the right to usurp the center chair whenever they feel like it?

  On the other hand, someone’s got to drive. Shouldn’t it be the best driver?

  Ordinarily, yes. But what if you know that the driver is going to break laws?

  Honestly, I’m less concerned about the laws being broken than I am about Lense being broken. Because, like it or not, she’s the only option I have. And so I have to be extra careful about using her without breaking her.

  So does that mean that I’m going along and indulging her power trip, even for a few minutes?

  No. I want to save the population here as well. But the principles of the Prime Directive apply here. The Prime Directive says, basically, that we shouldn’t tamper. Internally, the same concept guides our thinking on tampering with ourselves. The original impetus was in reaction to the Eugenics Wars, but the point is we do not have the right to alter our biology to such a radical extent that it gives such a huge evolutionary advantage. And that’s what Dr. Lense is proposing here. To be given more than what we’ve been born with. If the laws regarding genetic enhancement were
as inconsequential as she tried to make them out to be, she wouldn’t have spent two months on Starbase 314 having her life pored over.

  I can hear Rachel telling me, “God never gives anybody more than they can handle.”

  Actually, that’s not what I’m hearing. The voice is not from the shul, it’s from the kitchen. She was with our youngest granddaughter, Emily, who was visiting from Florida when she was seven. I came upon them in the kitchen, praying for snow. Emily had never seen the white stuff except for the holovids, and was looking to frolic. Rachel, even more so, to play with a granddaughter in the snow. She was even more excited than a seven-year-old. The only problem was it was the beginning of December, and I knew at that time of year the odds of getting snow in New York were almost nonexistent. And I told them so, and that praying for snow was a dumb idea.

  Rachel looked at me, then at Emily. And she said, “What could it hurt?”

  Okay. We’re out of all other options to save the people down there. Lense can’t or won’t deliver another option. The death toll is rising. Lense knows the consequences to herself of her actions, and she’s determined to go ahead and do it anyway.