The Chiral Protocol – A Military Science Fiction Thriller: Biogenesis War Book 2 (The Biogenesis War)

by L. L. Richman

  She gestured to the screen. “Inside each cylinder is a glass vial filled with chiral material. They were supposed to be delivered by special courier today. The package never arrived.”

  Shock flooded Micah. “You’re telling me we’ve misplaced chiral material?”

  Toland nodded, her gaze shifting between Micah and Jonathan, her expression carefully blank.

  “I take it this is more than a shipping mix-up, since we’re here,” Gabe said, shooting Micah a warning glance.

  Micah could tell the former special agent half expected him to blow up at the doctor, and was ready to step in to defuse it if necessary.

  Toland shook her head. “We checked, and there was no mix-up. Someone hacked the shipping company and stole the package.”

  Gabe nodded to the holo. “Did your team take that photo before the vials were packaged up, then, to document its contents?”

  “No.” Valenti gestured to the holoscreen. “That was taken yesterday, at Leavitt Station.”

  The image was replaced by another, this one showing a man in a Navy uniform, handing the case to a stranger in civilian dress.

  “That person is a known Akkadian spy. The agent did not make it out alive.”

  Shit, brother. This is bad.

  Micah nodded absently in agreement, eyes riveted on the hazardous materials icon emblazoned on each vial. “Is there any reason other than the obvious why you’d have them labeled hazardous?” he asked.

  Toland flicked a glance at Cutter, who nodded for her to continue. She did, her expression clearly unhappy.

  “These vials should contain nothing more than chiral samples, held in suspension, but there was a glitch in the labs’ security feeds the day the samples were packaged up. It’s probably nothing. Still, I’m having my people reconfirm which vials were shipped so we know for certain what material the Akkadians have.”

  Thad leaned forward. “Excuse me, Admiral, but that sounds like you’re worried something bad got loose. What kind of experiments are you running over there?”

  Micah looked over at Valenti and Cutter. Neither looked surprised by this. His gaze shifted to Toland when she spoke.

  “The vials scheduled to be sent were straightforward samples,” she told Thad. “Protein chains. DNA strands. But until we’ve run a full audit, I can’t rule out the possibility they contain something a bit more complex.”

  “Complex, as in…?” Gabe asked.

  “Depending on which lab the vials came from, they could contain supraparticles, or… something else.”

  Gabe lifted a brow. “Supra…?”

  “A supraparticle is a grouping of nanoparticles that bind together to form a larger, more defined structure.”

  Gabe’s expression turned thoughtful. “That sounds almost like you’re building something with them.”

  Something shifted in Toland’s expression.

  Disbelief coursed through Micah when she didn’t deny it. He rounded on Cutter. “Building something?”

  Jonathan’s angry voice cut in. “What, like cloning? You told us you’d shut down Stinton’s research.”

  Valenti’s hand slashed through the air. “Captains,” her voice held a note of warning.

  “It’s not what you think,” Addy said into the silence. Her eyes met Micah’s, the expression in them equal parts frustration and entreaty. “Look, I’m a surgeon, not a scientist. The admiral would be better at explaining this from a scientific point of view, but I can tell you from a medical point of view why this is important.”

  He nodded for her to continue.

  “If we’re to understand what happened to you, we need to study how the chiral bias transfers from the molecular level up the chain, until the biological process takes over,” she told him. “It’s the only way we can determine where and how entanglement occurred during chiral cloning.”

  Jonathan leaned forward, his jaw jutting out angrily. “Why? So you can entangle more subjects?”

  Addy shot him an exasperated look. “No, so we can understand how that process might impact you and the other chiral pairs. What if one of you were to—” she faltered.

  “Die.” Micah dropped the word into the sudden silence.

  Addy’s lips firmed as she nodded.

  Toland took up the explanation. “Yes, we’re looking into replicating the method of entanglement. But, but,” she emphasized, talking over the incipient protests, “only at a microscopic level. We’re working with organisms, genetic sequences, not emergent complex systems.”

  “Emergent complex—” Thad started.

  Toland’s eyes cut to him. “Life,” she stated flatly. “Project Rufus has two mandates. We’ve been charged with trying to reverse-engineer Stinton’s research, but we’re also working to find ways to use this knowledge in ethical, beneficial ways.” She nodded to the image of the vials. “Doctor Travis had an idea. Those vials are the result.”

  “Sam did this?” Micah asked, incredulous. “She’d never—”

  “Science itself is not inherently bad. It’s how you apply what you’ve learned that has that potential. Don’t ever conflate what Stinton did with what we’re doing here,” Addy interrupted him, her tone sharp. “We’re working at the cellular level, not to recreate living organisms. The material in those vials represents a potential way to save lives under battlefield conditions.”

  Valenti braced her forearms on the table, hands clasped. “How so, Captain?”

  Addy fell silent a moment, gathering her thoughts.

  “When a patient needs delicate surgery, the kind that requires nano repair techniques, the first step we take is to order a bio-ink that’s genetically identical to the patient,” she said. “We then use that ink to 3D-print nano repair bots unique to that individual. That way, I’m able to heal the damage without the patient’s immune system fighting against me, or rejecting the bots as foreign substances. Are you with me so far?”

  “Yes, but—” Micah began, but Addy overrode him.

  “In triage situations, that’s an impossibility. A corpsman trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out on the deck of a ship doesn’t have the luxury of ordering out.” Her voice took on a hard edge. “There’s no bioidentical match, no 3D printer to spit out nice, compatible nanomachines on a battlefield.”

  She pointed a finger at the image on the holoscreen. “The material inside those vials holds the promise of the next best thing.”

  She paused as if to allow the significance of what she had just said to sink in. After a moment, she continued.

  “You all know the basics of chirality. You understand the concepts of handedness and mirror molecules. But you need to also understand how the human body reacts to chirally altered organisms. Chirality gives a pathogen immunity in the natural world, and vice versa.

  “As the only chiral person in existence, Micah cannot be infected by a natural virus. By contrast, any mirror virus that could infect him can’t hurt any of us. There is a mutual incompatibility. And while chiral bacteria can still replicate, it’ll eventually die out, because the sugars they feed on are indigestible. They’ll end up starving to death.”

  “But if they can’t hurt their mirror counterparts, why bother studying them?” Jonathan asked.

  “Chiral supraparticles offer a protective casing that not only stands up against the body’s immune system, but confuses it long enough for the supra shell to deliver its payload of nano repair units directly to the wounded site. Get something like that into a medical corpsman’s hands, and I guarantee you we can drastically reduce the number of lives lost.”

  There was silence as everyone digested what she’d just said.

  Finally, Valenti nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”

  Addy returned the nod and settled back into her seat.

  After a beat of silence, Gabe asked, “Okay, then, now for the elephant in the room.” He looked up at the image displayed on the holoscreen. “What is the extent of the damage Akkadia can do if they get their hands on supraparticles
instead of the raw material?”

  Thad leaned forward, squinting at Gabe. “You talking biochemical warfare, ami?”

  When Gabe nodded silently, Thad then turned his squint to the admiral, who sighed and leaned forward again.

  “Depending on what was actually in those vials, that is a possibility,” Toland admitted. “It goes back to how an object can be used either for good or evil. That same supra shell that delivers healing nanobots could just as easily be used as a delivery system for something harmful.”

  “Like…?” Thad prodded.

  “Like a deadly pathogen.”

  The words dropped like a miniature bomb into the room.

  Gabe leaned forward. “Keep going, ma’am. But simple language, please. Something even a government lackey like me can understand.”

  Micah saw Toland’s lips curve in a brief smile at Gabe’s words.

  “You know what a pathogen is. It could be a virus or bacteria, or another agent of infection. A supraparticle could act like a shield, hiding such a pathogen from detection. And if the supraparticle is preprogrammed to break down at a certain time….” She let her voice fade, allowing the team to draw the inevitable conclusion.

  “As you can see, we need to get our hands on these vials—all of them—as soon as possible,” Valenti stated.

  “Rules of engagement?” Thad’s voice was all business.

  “Do what you need to do in order to accomplish the mission.” The director’s voice was level but firm.

  All heads around the table nodded.

  “What leads do we have?” Jonathan asked.

  “Not many,” Valenti replied. “The trail runs cold at Leavitt. We’re working all channels to see what our agents in place in Alpha Centauri might be able to pick up, but the Akkadians are being extremely tight-lipped on this.”

  “There’s one other thing,” Cutter said. He nodded to Toland to continue.

  She returned her gaze to the holodisplay. “I reconfirmed with my team. They shipped four vials to Hawking.” Nodding to the frozen image, the admiral added, “As you can see, there are only three in that case.”

  “Any leads on where that fourth vial went?” Micah asked.

  “Yes.”

  As Valenti spoke, the visual of the vials was replaced by a pinwheel floating in the black. A sea of asteroids was scattered in the distance behind it, giving Micah a fairly good idea where the station they were looking at was located.

  “One of the border patrol agents stationed at the edge of the Atliekas intercepted a gun runner yesterday afternoon,” Valenti said, confirming Micah’s guess.

  She swept a quick look about the table. “In exchange for a lighter sentence, the woman offered up information on a deal she’d heard was going down,” she pointed, “on Mercer Mining Torus.”

  Thad looked skeptical. “How reliable do you think this information is?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers, Captain Severance,” Cutter responded. “At the moment, we’re in a position that forces us to chase down every lead we get.”

  Valenti nodded. “According to our source, one of the drug lords operating out of the belt was bragging about acquiring something that might be worth big money.”

  “Drug lord?” Jonathan asked. “But it’s not a drug.”

  “He doesn’t know that,” Gabe pointed out.

  “And honestly, if someone like that ever learned about chiral supraparticles, he really could use them to cook up something new and different,” the admiral said.

  Gabe sat up abruptly, a concerned look on his face. “Admiral, how hard would it be for a scientist to crack the code on what you’ve been doing?”

  Toland’s brows drew together. “It would take time to reverse-engineer, but Akkadia would have a head start, since they know the material is chiral.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I imagine your drug lord might need a bit more time to figure it out.”

  Gabe didn’t smile back. He leaned in, eyes intent. “And what if Akkadia gains access to one or more of the scientists who developed the material in those vials?”

  Micah sat up, his gaze cutting from Gabe to Toland.

  He’s talking about Sam, he sent to his twin.

  A mental image sprang up of the woman who saved his life, and Jonathan’s, nine months earlier. A petite dynamo with blonde hair and green eyes, and a mind like no other. Simply put, Samantha Travis was the smartest, sexiest woman he’d ever met.

  If she’s in danger—

  He felt Jonathan’s hand come down on his arm, a non-verbal warning to stand down.

  Toland frowned. “Are you suggesting that my team might be targeted? We have excellent security at the Center, a full squadron of Marines who rotate in every few months.” Her expression turned wry, and she nodded to the holo. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s impenetrable, given the circumstances, but smuggling a person out would be much more difficult than those vials.”

  Gabe nodded, eyes shifting to meet Cutter’s. “Still, sir, the admiral’s team doesn’t sleep at the Center. I’d feel better if we had a protection detail on standby.”

  That sounded like a solid plan to Micah. He saw Cutter’s expression grow thoughtful.

  “Yes, or perhaps….” The director’s voice trailed off, eyes snapping back to meet Gabe’s. “I may have an idea. Let me work on it, and I’ll get back to you in a few hours.”

  Deeply curious about the plan Cutter was formulating, Micah was tempted to speak up. Yet as much as his gut urged him to protect Sam, he knew his skills weren’t the kind that would keep her safe. He was a pilot, not a warrior.

  Valenti must have sussed out his intent; she adopted a stern look as she turned to him, and then pointed to his twin. “He’s still benched until that shoulder’s healed, so you’re flying the team to Mercer.”

  Micah nodded his understanding as Jonathan spoke once more inside his head.

  Don’t worry. I’ll keep an ear to the ground. If I hear anything about Sam, I’ll let you know.

  Micah grunted. Damn straight you will.

  Oblivious to the mental exchange, Valenti’s gaze swung to the other two men. “Severance, bring me that drug dealer. Alvarez, I want you to use those NCIC skills of yours to piece together what happened inside the CID. Take Kinsley with you.”

  One of military intelligence’s top analysts, Harper Kinsley was seconded to TF Blue. She’d been undercover on deGrasse, along with Gabe, although neither had been aware of the other at the time.

  With Valenti’s instructions handed out, Cutter’s gaze swept them one last time. He rapped his knuckles against the table and stood. “I know there’s no need to impress upon you all the seriousness of this situation. Go recover those vials.”

  NATIONAL DUTY

  Planck Centre for Applied Physics

  University of St. Clair

  St. Clair township, Ceriba

  Samantha Travis’s current assignment had nothing to do with her work for the Centers for Infectious Diseases. At the moment, she was facing an oncoming coronal mass ejection from Procyon’s main sequence star.

  As a radiation physicist, it was Sam’s job to explain to her audience exactly how life-threatening this would be. Fortunately, for today’s purposes, the CME was hypothetical. The animation on the holoscreen was based off data captured by solar-monitoring equipment around a distant star.

  “An X-fifty-plus solar event like the one you see here,” Sam said, “can increase the integral dose equivalence a human is exposed to by as much as fifteen Sieverts. That dose will be equally hard on any unshielded equipment you have hanging around.”

  As the CME animation played, she turned to look at the medical students assembled in the lecture hall. She’d been spending so much time at the Center lately that she’d not had much time for much else. Today’s lecture was a welcome reprieve from her normal duties.

  Motion in the back of the darkened room caught her attention. She turned to follow it, and her eyes landed on two figures standing sil
ently at the back of the lecture hall.

  The way they carried themselves suggested that these were not students. So did their attire.

  The man met Sam’s gaze and gave a slight nod, while the woman scanned the room as if for some unseen threat. After a moment, both settled into the row of empty seats that lined the back of the far wall.

  Military? she wondered, although their dress suggested they might be with her uncle’s agency instead.

  Sam’s heartbeat kicked up, but she forced her mind back to her lecture. Focusing on the x-ray flare animation, she pointed out the series of coronal mass ejections that had accompanied the flare. Her voice carried easily to the topmost tier, even without the hall’s intuitive audio interface, her husky contralto clear and strong.

  “The initial CME will pave the way, allowing for subsequent CMEs to travel farther, faster, before slowing down. The closer in-system you are, the more energy these particles will transfer when they collide, and the more ionizing radiation you will receive. The dose equivalence continues to accumulate over the course of the multi-hour event.”

  Sam waved the animation away as she turned back to face the students. “That’s why it’s necessary to have temporary, heavily shielded sections within habitats and mining platforms. Any living creature and any sensitive unshielded equipment will need a safe haven to ride out the storm, so that damage to systems and living tissue can be avoided.”

  One of the students in the front, his stocky build clear evidence of his planetbound origins, lifted a hand.

  Sam paused and pointed at him. “Yes?”

  “Couldn’t medical nano be used to repair the damage?”

  Sam smiled. “Not at the rate at which these high energy particles would be coming at you, no. In the case of a solar storm of this size, it would be like trying to hold a plasfilm over your head in a torrential rain. If it was just a light mist, the thing would keep you fairly dry. If it’s a deluge…” she shook her head. “You’re going to get soaked.”

  Sam’s overlay announced the ending of the class period, and she stepped back, blanking the holo. “Looks like our time’s up. If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to me.”