CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

For much of the prior three months, Rhodes had found it difficult to separate the
biochemical damage inflicted on the network by the Alliance weapon from that caused by the
genetic virus. Her latest core samples were a change in direction, and her areas of study
had finally been refined down to the most basic of patterns – Annie‟s genome itself.
It had taken time, but she had finally managed to reverse-engineer the radically
altered DNA down in to its base origin. That had been the relatively simple part once the
bureaucratic Office of Naval Intelligence finally relented and sent her the recorded DNA
profile of Doctor Anne Ballard; the geneticist who had provided the DNA profile for Annie‟s
development to begin with.
The hard part had been to synthesize an appropriate catalyst from which to identify
the rogue DNA that had so voraciously invaded Annie‟s system. In truth, the extent of that
„infection‟ was so great that she doubted she would ever be able to completely reverse the
damage that had been done, as so little of the original donor‟s DNA remained, but at the
very least, she may have been able to stabilize the rampant affliction to a point where Annie
might yet wake from her apparent „coma‟.
...What would remain of her mind after that, of course, was anyone‟s guess.
The ONI aid who had been assigned to her entered the office a few minutes later,
carrying another data pad that he held out in his hand. Matt Hurst was part of the UEO‟s
medical corps, as best she could tell from his cream-coloured division insignia, and wore a
lab coat over his uniform jumpsuit. She had never thought to ask, and it had never really
seemed important. He was capable enough, but after just a few days of working with him
she had quickly learned to find ways of occupying his attention on other tasks that... As
clever as he was by „normal‟ standards, he was slow to think compared to the Nycarian and
always seemed to be a few steps behind the ball.
It wasn‟t his fault, of course, and Rhodes had made every effort to be polite to the
boy, but after nearly three months of this pattern it was becoming clear to him that much of
Rhodes‟ thought processes remained completely unspoken. He‟d never complained about it,
but the intermittent pauses that followed once he had delivered a report always seem to
suggest the question that he had never brought himself to ask.
Today was a little different.
“This came in for you through the Aquarius,” he said as she took the offered slate.
“Secured through the SOC. Is this what we were waiting on?”
Rhodes smiled as she flicked through the pages on the tablet screen and slaved it to
her workstation. “Yes, it is.”
“I noticed the sender,” Hurst nodded, sitting himself backwards on one of the spare
seats near the desk, his arms folded over the backrest. “He‟s your father, isn‟t he?”
It was a statement more than a question, and Rhodes brushed it aside. “Yes, I had a
hunch,” she said. “I‟m hoping this information will match up with the latest set of lab results.”
Rhodes spun in the chair and put the pad aside before loading the information on to
her main computer. Her fingers flew over the keys quickly, plugging in a formula so complex
and so quickly that Hurst‟s eyes barely had time to read it before she entered the command.
“What was it he sent you?” Hurst asked, watching as the computer tabulated the
results.
“A sample Nycarian genetic history. I recognised a few of the markers in Annie‟s
DNA.”
Hurst gawked at her. “That‟s an outstanding hunch,” he muttered.
Rhodes smirked. “What can I say, I‟m an outstanding girl.”
Hurst was left to smile at that as Rhodes disappeared around then other side of the
lab and sat in front of a diagnostics display, quickly plugging in a series of commands that
brought up a comparison of the two genetic profiles.
A rush of excitement washed over Rhodes at first as she compared to the two
genomes, sharing an 83% correlation across all the key markers, before the exhilaration of
discovery and success gave way to a far more troubling shadow of revelation.
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