13 Degrees of Separation (17 page)

“It's a
thought doctor Thornby, though I believe they would need a sky. But back to the
problem with the base pair sequences for limb changes, we need more computer
time to model it and model how it will react over time... Which is why we
called you Smithy....”

Thornby
shook herself and nodded. Together the group dived back into the project.

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

Some of
what the staff learned from the databases and in the research rubbed off on the
Malekian and Ssilli resurrection projects. Previous attempts at cloning each
species over the past six months had failed for various reasons. Sometimes they
had understood why, sometimes not until their research pointed their failure
out.

It
wasn't just the fragile nature of the embryo's, or the complexity of the
Malekian physiology, but also the lack of information on their reproduction and
gestation that was hindering progress. The lack of knowledge of the chemicals,
PH, temperatures, and such for the womb as well. Finding the right balance was
going to take a lot of experimentation at this rate. That would burn up cells
and they'd lose thousands of fetuses. Simulating it all in the computers were
out. There wasn't enough knowledge to extrapolate coherent data. Garbage in,
garbage out.

“I see
you have recommended Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer. It's a tried and true
technique, we've been exploring it for several of our resurrection projects
with mixed results.” The doctor frowned, still looking down at the tablet,
going through the notes. That was true, and it opened the door to artificial
DNA, or even donor DNA. The process was simple, take the egg, either the host's
or a donor's egg, suck out the genetic material from the nucleus, then inject
the desired genetic material. The two were then fused with chemicals and then
incubated.

With
modern nanites they could do all the eggs in a host's ovaries, and alter the
ovaries to produce the altered eggs if necessary. There were some drawbacks
however. “Using somatic cells from an adult is fine in theory, but you have to
understand, in doing so you take on the adult's cellular clock. Which means the
cells will rapidly age unless that is corrected beforehand. Which obviously
didn't happen here.”

“How
can you access the equipment? Your implants?” Trenton asked.

“Doctor
Standish and I have Navy implants. Military medical implants are a higher grade
than pure civilian fair, doctor,” Thornby replied, scanning the report she had
and not looking up.

“Can we
get those implants?” Trenton asked after a long moment when Thornby didn't
elaborate.

Thornby
grunted. “Unfortunately no, not unless you sign up for a hitch with the Navy.
Which wouldn't have a problem with you in most cases, but your um...
inferiority complex is an issue.”

“Inferiority
complex...” Trenton frowned.

“Look
it up. You're a doctor, I'm being honest with you, you need to be honest with
yourself
as well,” Thornby said, turning to him.

“I...
see.”

“I
know,” she smiled, “It's hard to accept criticism no matter how it's presented.
Work on it. Hopefully, you'll see it for what it is, and work on changing that.
You have some beautiful minds, hopefully you'll realize the body is just a
vessel for your intellect.”

“Perhaps
in time doctor.”

“I hope
so,” Thornby said stubbornly then sighed. “I, look. One of the reasons I took
this, is because yes we lack the equipment, but by now you heard the admiral
left.”

“Admiral
Irons? He sounded like a remarkable human.”

“Yes.
He can make this stuff and more. But we can't. Only basics.”

“Oh.”

“That
is why we need your equipment. I can supply you with substitutes so you can set
up a hospital somewhere if you'd like.”

Trenton
looked up in surprise. “That is an interesting proposal doctor.”

“Or, if
you chose, you may decide to remain here. I wouldn't mind if you and the others
decide to remain on staff.” She had come to realize that they had a first class
education rivaling her own in the plastic surgery and OB/GYN fields.

“I
believe the Neo tax precludes that doctor,” Trenton replied patiently.

“True,
well, there is always Seti Alpha 4. They are setting up quite the medical complex
there as well,” the doctor replied.

“Oh?”
Trenton asked, turning to her.

Thornby
smiled. “Apparently when the admiral was dropped off the ship he came in, the
Io 11, carried one of their medical doctors back to his home planet and set him
up with equipment that rivals what I have here. Or so I heard.”

“Fascinating,”
Trenton replied.

Thornby
shrugged. “I only heard about it after the fact. Apparently John, um, Admiral
Irons, he provided the keys to replicate a lot of the equipment for them.”

“Interesting,”
the Neo replied. He handed her a tablet. “I think the latest test results,
specifically the epsilon group show promise doctor,” he said.

“Thank
you,” she replied, taking it.

“So,
you plan to help others? Than the equipment will go to good use then.”

“Oh
definitely. We're working on resurrecting species, perhaps we can apply it to
the Taurens as well. Ox deserves it...” she murmured, getting a faraway look.

“Everyone
deserves a second chance doctor,” Trenton replied.

Thornby
shook herself. “Well, everyone but the Xenos.”

“Agreed.”

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

When
she was ready, Doctor Martel called Doctor Thornby and the team together to
present her findings. After they went over the results they presented the plan
to Trenton and the other leaders of the Chimerian clan.

“Artificial
gene synthesis. What I can do is identify the undesirable gene sequences, those
you want to part with and then replace them with gene sequences we will create
in the lab. The problem is this will work only with your children.”

“Our
children?” Miss Drusilla asked, taking the tablet. She was a medic, a trained
surgical nurse with some experience in the OB/Gyn fields.

“Yes.
In order to do this we'd have to do it with your eggs and sperm.”

“But
what about us?”

“You
would be the last of your generation.”

“No,
us. Why not us?” Another Chimerian asked.

“Do you
have any idea how many cells there are in the body? We'd have to change the
sequence of all of them. All at the same time or your body would reject the new
DNA as cancer.”

“What
about when the body rejuvenates itself? It does that periodically. If you
altered the genes sequences in the new batch...”

Doctor
Martel shook her head. She herself had explored that option, only to discard it
as extremely risky. “The problem is if we did that you wouldn't be you. You
would lose a lot of your identity. I'm not sure how your bodies would react.
They could treat the changes as cancerous. It could very well kill you.”

“We're
willing to take that risk doctor.”

“And
I'm not. I swore an oath to do no harm. Going to this extreme constitutes harm.
And do you understand the work involved in just altering
one
of you?
Billions of stem cells would have to be altered and replaced. Sure the
machinery can do some of the work, but not all of it! And that is just one of
you! There are dozens here! A hundred altogether!”

“I
see,” Trenton replied quietly, sounding dispirited.

Doctor
Thornby rested her hand on the man's shoulder. “I know you wanted to be human.
I don't understand the urge, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Trust me. I'd
love to have some of your abilities. But human is a state of mind too.”

“Can
you do this for our children? The young ones?”

Thornby
frowned. “In an adult I'd put the chances of survival below five percent. A
child... under two, still in their formative years... I don't know. Let me run
some simulations and get back to you on that. Since they are still growing it
might be easier... or more dangerous. I don't know.”

“Thank
you doctor. At least you've been honest with us.”

“Too
often we've been promised something only to be later told it is impossible. For
you to come right out and tell us... and to still try something, that is
worthwhile to hear.”

“Thank
you. I think. Now let's see what I can make happen.”

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

Doctor
Martel smiled tiredly as they met up in the lift. They were finally making some
headway, there was some light at the end of the tunnel. The Chimerians had
accepted plastic surgery for their generation, with genetic changes to their
reproductive systems for the following generation. They were still working out
the details, but an end to the project was in reach. “Going my way?” she asked,
smiling politely to doctor Thornby.

“That
depends, are you heading to the shipment?” Thornby asked. They both knew they
were going to the shipment, neither one could stop ogling at the riches. The
Ynari equipment was most likely useless, but they could analyze it. The
software alone would help them fill in so many gaps in their genetic
engineering knowledge base.

“Maybe,”
Doctor Martel drawled.

“Wicked,”
Thornby teased. “New toys to play with. I bet you can't wait to get started.
Have you finished reading the manuals?”

“That's
why I'm going now, I finished with the gene sequencer, but I forgot to grab the
uterine one. The beta one. I'm not sure it will suit our purposes with the
Ssilli, though we might be able to adapt it for the initial stages of
conception.”

“I'm
not sure if that is wise to move the fetuses. It might be better to have a
machine that can go through all their development stages.”

“But
they're eggs. We'll need some sort of incubation system after birth. Well, not
really incubation, they are birthed in long strings in warm pools.”  She shook
her head as the lift bounced and then changed tracks. After a moment a green
light lit and they continued, this time moving sideways.

“Isn't
it nice to have these things working properly? Can you imagine going all the
way there on foot?” Thornby asked, smiling.

“You'd
probably say screw it and either look at the gear through a camera or go EVA
and get in from an airlock.”

“Maybe,”
Thornby replied with a slight smile.

“Lazy,”
Martel teased, hip bumping her boss.

“No,
just not as um, obsessive compulsive as some people,” Thornby teased right
back.

“Devil's
in the details dear, you know that,” Martel sighed, shaking her head
mournfully.

“Maybe
but...” Doctor Thornby stopped what she was saying as the lift stopped and the
doors opened. She frowned as three bald human men were standing there. “Um,
sorry,” she said as the two women got off the lift.

“You're
quite right doctor, you are sorry,” the man with the brutal face said as the
large male grabbed both women from behind. A quick move and they were in the
nearby broom closet. The door closed behind them. Thornby gasped but before she
could put up a fight The no nonsense human leader flashed a pulser. He let her
get a good look before he holstered it and opened a bag.

“What
do you want?” Martel demanded plaintively. She was practically in tears, hands
up in front of her chest, afraid for her life, and for good reason.

“What
does it look like lady?” One of the men demanded. Each had clear face masks on.

“I
don't know! I'm just a geneticist!” Martel said. “You want credits? Take my ID!
Here!” she dropped her ID. Three scooped it up.

“Do we
look like common scrags lady? We want what everyone wants. The shipment.”

“You're
insane. You'll never get it off the station. And if you do it'll be tracked!”

“Maybe,
but then again, maybe not,” Trenton said, smiling coldly. “That's for me to
know, and you too well... guess at I suppose,” he said nastily.

“Hey,
um, One we don't need two right?” Three asked. He was a thin guy, rat faced,
almost stick like. He held a cut down pulser in one hand. The pulser looked
well used.

“Shut
it. Two is better than one,” One said as the big bruiser held both women in his
arms.

He must
have been a heavyworlder, he was incredibly strong Thornby realized. She knew
she was in trouble but wasn't sure why help hadn't arrived yet.

The
leader applied zip ties to the wrists of each woman, then zipped their wrists
to their throats. He grinned nastily as he stuffed rags in their mouths and
then taped them shut. “Carry them two, let's get out of here,” he said, turning
away. “Oh and ladies? If you're expecting someone to ride to your rescue, keep
hoping. We've got that covered.”

Three
was at the door, he looked out both ways and then nodded. Carefully they headed
out. Both women shuffled along, fists clenched in front of them. Thornby felt
through her link and hit the distress signal. After a moment she felt a
response from her computer in her office, then her signal went out and all hell
broke loose. She closed her eyes as inquiries flooded her implants, drowning
her in noise and demands.