“The good of the many versus the good of the few... or the one,” Sprite said softly.
Irons nodded grimly. “I'm curious about the incubation like Doctor Zane. That is odd. You'd think they would have dropped right away. Was someone partially immune? But that doesn't make sense...”
“No one appeared sick until near the end of the trip. It did have a long incubation, it seemed to of just cropped up all at once. I mean in under a minute everyone in the convoy started coughing and dropping.”
“So... I don't know what to think here. It's odd.”
“Yes.”
...*...*...*...*...
Hank swore softly as he read the attachment. One of the primary things the AI had recommended were ultraviolet or UV light. He'd read about them somewhere, something nagged at his memory. Something about killing... he snapped his fingers and swore softly. “That's it!” he said.
Jerry looked up in surprise. “What?”
“UV! Ultraviolet radiation kills most bacteria and viruses! Why didn't we think of this earlier!” Hank smacked his forehead. The admiral had supplied them in the virologist's kit. Portable lamps and big giant arrays for the work area. He hadn't remembered why but they'd set them up. They certainly made things glow blue.
“Yeah but isn't this stuff like in the air?” Jerry asked.
“Um... shit,” the lion sighed, shaking his head. He rubbed his muzzle. “Forgot that.”
“So, somehow it's immune?”
“Maybe... But we can crank up the UV. Double, hell, ten times the dose! Something is better than nothing! Come on, let's give it a shot.”
“Okay, but if you think a little blue light will help we really are screwed,” Jerry sighed, shaking his head.
“Just shut up and help me,” the lion demanded.
“If this turns me as blue as you are I'm going to get out a bucket of paint,” Jerry muttered. “For you not me.”
“Very funny,” Hank said, tapping at the replicator. “Get me some glass. I'll work through the list here.”
He kept scanning the document as the first tray of lamp parts were under construction. According to the brief one paragraph description, the ultraviolet lights worked because they were short wave radiation. The waves broke up or destroyed the nucleic acids that made up microorganism's DNA. “Huh,” he grunted as Jerry came in.
“What?” The chimp asked.
“Just seeing how this is supposed to work,” Hank replied, studying the exploded schematic of a lamp and then the paragraph. “Son of a bitch!” he said, catching one line. One little line that explained it for him.
“What? What?” Jerry asked, looking up from where he was with the wheelbarrow of glass.
“Hang on a sec,” Hank said, pulling the tray and then stuffing materials inside. He hit the key and then turned as the replicator went to work. “It said that the reason it works is because this level of UV doesn't exist on a planet because the atmosphere bounces most of the energy back into space.”
“So... it'll work?” Jerry asked.
“Hell yes! Air or water! Better in air than water.”
“Cool!” Jerry said, eyes wide. “But first we've got to make them right?”
“Yeah. And I want some for right here,” the Neolion said, pointing down to where they were. Jerry snorted.
“Can you make a portable one? Stick it on a pole so I can walk around?”
Hank snorted, and then chuckled, shaking his head.
...*...*...*...*...
Ivanov discovered Prions, and linked them to Bovine Spongiform encephalopathy, more commonly known as mad cow disease. Doctor La Plaz theorized that the Prions would not target zoology, mammalian zoology, but may also be designed to attack Taurens as well.
“Different species,” Sprite interjected, entering the conversation through the radio link. “Sorry, I was monitoring. There's no relation between Taurens and Terran Bovines. They just look like Minotaur’s. Fortunately there aren't any Taurens on the planet so it's a moot debating point if it would cross over to them or not.”
“True,” Doctor Ivanov replied. He'd been looking forward to the argument and the intervention of the AI had spiked it. That was a bit disappointing, he'd looked forward to the distraction.
“Then if that is settled, gentlemen, I leave you to your work,” Sprite said.
...*...*...*...*...
Once Nohar's blood was broken down, they set the antibodies up to be induced to grow in a bioreactor and then turned to testing.
Ivanov's team worked on testing samples of Nohar's blood against the isolated pathogens. They quickly identified what it worked against and what it didn't. Ivanov ordered the samples to be copied as rapidly as possible, and then distributed to the Neo population.
...*...*...*...*...
Respiratory infections spread throughout the various alien species almost like wildfire, despite the masks and preventive measures. Each was isolated, blood drawn, and checked. Sprite sensed a pattern and checked the records. She informed Irons and Helen that it was a specific type of terror weapon the Xeno's used and what will be coming up next. “The idea is to panic the population and over run the medics with various diseases. The diseases come in waves so as they get set to take care of one the next is already incubating.”
“So we need to take out the nest. We need to kill the source.”
“Exactly. You were right about the EMP admiral. From what I've got in the files it's some sort of nanite hive. It may even be tapped into the media net monitoring our progress.”
“An AI? Nanite AI? Is that even possible?” Helen demanded.
Irons pursed his lips. “Yes. But not a smart AI. It's adaptive. So we need to get ahead of it. Limit its intel and kill it.”
“It could spawn backup’s admiral. I've been sensing something in the net that wasn't there before,” Sprite warned.
“Then come up with something. A screen. Firewalls. Inoculate the firewalls with anti-virus software.”
“I'm working on that even as we speak,” Sprite reported.
“Good.”
...*...*...*...*...
“Okay, now it's getting a little too real,” Jerry said, shifting about. He, like every other Neo was uncomfortable in the hazmat suits. They itched, he couldn't scratch, and he was heartily tired of his own stink. But what was he going to do? It wasn't worth his life to take a shower now. Tempting, but no. He'd put up with it.
“It didn't seem real before because it was hitting rural areas. The pathogens were hitting small villages, towns, mining sites, and isolated farms. The population density was low. Now though...” Hank frowned, looking around to the people moaning.
“Yeah.”
“I know it's scary. But we've got to stay focused..”
“Yeah,” Jerry chuffed. He was tired, but it felt odd and somehow fitting to hear Hank of all people take charge like this.
...*...*...*...*...
We don't have the time to burn up getting to somewhere better. So we set up a base here. I'll induct volunteers into the navy. We'll build everything we need right here.”
“Volunteers?”
“I have a prohibition against making medical nanites. It's built into my hardware. I can't build them for other people, but I can swear in people into the navy who can. Doctors and nurses in other words.”
“And they can...”
“If they have the proper implants. Which take time.”
“Not necessarily admiral,” Sprite interjected. He turned to her avatar as did the others. “What I am proposing is we use you to create their implants. It won't be pretty but we can do it. Training them will be difficult.”
“Fine.”
“I'll do it...”
“You'll need a lot more than one or two people. Even in my time something like this was hard to contain and destroy. We'll need screening equipment, all sorts of things,” the admiral mused. “Sprite...”
“A list. Understood. I'm working with Proteus on this.”
&nbs
p; “Understood. Keep me informed.”
“Right admiral.”
...*...*...*...*...
Hank received reports of people hanging around the UV lamps including Jerry. But also medics reported these same people were coming in with complaints of sunburn, sunstroke, and damage to their eyes. Some of the eye damage was significant, damage to corneas that couldn't easily be repaired.
Reluctantly he called Sprite. Sprite confirmed that the UV lights can cause skin problems including cancer, but the risk was worth it. “The point is to not stay under the lamps. Use the respirators, set them up around patients and with things that need to be sterilized. Use them in entrances, air ducts, air intakes, but don't just lay under them.”
“Oh.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, can I get this data? Maybe in some useable form? Or another lady like you?” Hank asked.
Sprite snorted. “You don't even begin to have the computing power for an AI like me.”
“Are you saying you're too good for me?” Hank asked with a slight smile.
Sprite surprised him with a laugh. He hadn't expected the AI to have a sense of humor. “You could at least ask a lady out before you wanted her to have kids Doctor McCoy,” she replied coyly. “I mean, fine wine, flowers... what are people coming to these days?” she asked with mirth.
Hank surprised himself by chuckling in reply. He realized, despite everything going around, they still needed to live, or the damn virus and its, long dead creators had won.
...*...*...*...*...
Grimly the admiral turned to a new task, cremation. He ordered furnaces to be set up to burn the remains of infected people. The police had begun setting up tents outside the town to create refugee centers. “Admiral, your skin-suit would be effective as a bio-hazard suit right?” Defender asked as he worked on parts for a crematorium furnace. He needed something that would be extremely efficient yet cheap to make.
“Yes, but I'm here and it's there. Besides,” Irons frowned. “I don't need it remember?” he asked.
“True.”
“You could hand it over to someone else. A doctor for instance,” Sprite suggested. The admiral opened his mouth to reject it but she continued on. “But of course it's in Hazard as you pointed out. Besides, it's geared for space not this.” She had reported earlier that many of the Hazard medical staff not in pressure suits had started showing signs of illness. It was only a matter of time before they succumbed to the disease.
“True,” Irons said. “And yes it wouldn't be very effective. Against the airborne pathogens yes, if the user was all suited. But are you forgetting the lack of a right sleeve?” he asked, clearly amused.
“No, I think Defender did though.”
“I actually discounted that issue since as you pointed out, Proteus and your shields are the best defense against the Xeno nanites.”
“Then why bring up the idea at all?” Sprite asked.
“Another layer of protection,” Irons replied and then his eyes narrowed. “Or a subtle attempt at getting me to my shuttle where you can then get me off world lieutenant?” he asked.
“No,” Defender stated, but his eyes smoldered a little more.
“Right,” Sprite drawled. She still hadn't forgiven the other AI for what he had done to her on Antigua prime. “Sure...”
“Enough,” Irons said. “Case closed. I may get the suit if we have the time and if we have a specific mission to perform in it. But right now I don't have the time to burn to get it. I need to stay here,” he said, indicating the bank of replicators making trays of parts. Their industry was now a well-oiled machine, people loaded raw material into the molecular furnace and microcomputers sent draw demands to each replicator as it requested material. All as efficient as they could get. Really, the only thing slowing things down now was the intermittent issues with the power and the time it took for workers to take the trays of parts out, flip their contents into a waiting bin, or onto another tray, then reload the tray and close the door.
There were quite a few dedicated replicators here now, including ones for electronics. The sub-assemblies all went into a three meter cubed assembly replicator that put the pieces together and then merged them or ran wiring or other things too them. That was if they couldn't be assembled by hand.
They were still stuck treating the symptoms, which was a losing battle. He had considered Sprites ideas but was still concerned about their implications, both in the near term and long term. The odds of getting it right and not tripping something in his software or hers was also a strong danger sign.
“Admiral, what about making a medical AI?” Defender asked, not to be deterred.
“And how would we go about doing that?” Sprite asked. “We meaning me of course. I'm a coder, I could make a dumb AI, but a doctor isn't created by just slapping the medical encyclopedia into it and calling it finished you know,” she said.
“Commander,” Irons sighed. “It's not a bad idea, but I don't know how viable it is. Can you run a sim?”
“No,” Sprite said. “I'm not rejecting the idea out of hand, it's just that we don't have the space. This net is tiny, even for me. No room. Secondly, I'm not comfortable about the ethical considerations either.”
“We can take care of the electronics problem,” Irons replied. “But I agree with the ethics quandary. The problem is time, commander.”
“And as I said, It's not that simple. I wish it was, but it's not. Also, in order to build a military AI, I'd need more data, and access codes, and I'd need to seriously think about it myself some more. It's paramount to slavery.”
“And there we go with the ethical considerations again,” The admiral sighed, shaking his head and then rubbing his brow in frustration. Sprite wasn't going to let this go. They'd been having this conversation a lot lately, especially after the Draco incident. He couldn't blame her.
“The AI would have medical keys though?” Irons asked.
“Yes. I think. Maybe.” Sprite said.
“Maybe. That's a lot of time and effort for a maybe. Keep it in mind, but we'll move on. Next idea,” he said.
“When we come up with one, I'll let you know,” Sprite said. “But for now, you need to get back over to the annex. The governor's representatives are arriving.”
“Joy,” Irons replied. “Anything from them?”
“Did they apologize you mean? Not a word,” Sprite replied with a shrug. “I'm not the aggrieved party so I didn't hear anything. But I for one, wouldn't go holding my breath admiral.”
“Right,” Irons sighed, getting to his feet.
“Your advice on handling the whole we're playing vampires and we want to suck your blood' thing?”
Sprite smirked. “They aren't going to say they're sorry. They're politicians, so when didn't you realize they were vampires?” she asked.
“Right,” he grumbled. “I'll just see if I can scrounge up some silver and a stake.”
...*...*...*...*...
Osiris paced in the meeting room, unable to settle down. His close proximity to the hospital was giving him the willies, he like his boss wanted to be anywhere but around sick people. He'd honestly considered quitting several times but knew no one around could do what he did. If he did quit things might very well fall apart. They all had their role to play it seemed.
He was also distinctly uncomfortable being in the same room as the admiral. He regretted the impulsive action of the governor. The governor hadn't rescinded the order and had demanded updates on the progress on that front. Osiris now wondered about the man's sanity.
Now this. Solaximara was there as a member of the government. He like a few other junior members of the government had stayed at their posts. Osiris glanced at the red Neolion. He wasn't sure why, the lion should know by now he had risen as far as he was going to. As a Neo he had hit the political ceiling. If he tried to crack it, it would probably rain down on him and kill him and anyone around him. Sometimes politics on Epsilon were played for keeps.<
br />
Of course that really wasn't all that necessary. To get above a directorship, to say, the governor or lieutenant governor's mansion the Neo would have to be elected. Since most of the population were Terran and Veraxin, he wouldn't stand a chance against a well prepared opponent. Hell, even that fat sow Hodges could beat him easily. Prejudices were still in force here.
“I was told there is something that can help us. Um, EMP? Whatever that is? Can we get some?” Osiris asked, looking from the doctor to the admiral.
“EMP, Electromagnetic Pulse. A short savage burst of radio energy to destroy electronics. Utterly useless against a microorganism,” Sprite said helpfully. There was barest the hint of disdain over having to explain something that apparently she knew and took for granted.
“There's something in Rubicon, something Xeno and electronic. We know that much. But the problem is the EMP won't help,” Irons replied. Irons gnashed his teeth and then tried to patiently explain to Osiris and the other nitwits who were arm chair quarterbacking that an EMP would kill nanites, but not a virus. Not anything biological.
Irons had finally come to terms that Phoenix and Sprite were on to something with the Xeno code. He wasn't so sure what it was, they needed additional samples to confirm it. A third sample probe was in the process of being replicated, it would take time to transport it to Hazard and get it rigged. Hank and his chimp friend Jerry were helping with the work, they were using Hank's small replicator to replicate small components.
Unfortunately he didn't have the resources on Phoenix, or actually, he needed to reserve those resources in case of future need. The ship AI had already stripped quite a bit of his spares and other material to make the last probe, any further and he wouldn't be able to make another probe or other device without taking down and tearing apart essential ship systems. Irons wasn't prepared to go that far just yet.
But that meant doing the effort on the ground, which meant getting the resources required and making the parts, transporting them to Hazard, then assembling them, testing, and so on. A lengthy process. Again Clausewitz's line about time ran through his head. Time he was wasting here for instance.
His annoyance and woolgathering came to a stop as Osiris finally reacted, stopping to stare at him. “That's not what I heard,” Osiris replied stubbornly. He glanced at the red Neolion. This idea had come from him after all.
Plague Planet (The Wandering Engineer) Page 39