RPII-Antananarivo [Invite]

[NPC]

All over the country, scientists and specialists had set themselves to developing a cure for the unusual and deadly strain of cholera that had endangered or ended so many lives. The death toll was rising; time was running out. Of the 320 million people in the country, including the unaffected Alaska and Hawaii, the government estimated that eighty thousand of them had contracted the disease, and that of those, thirty-six percent had died. That news was enough to dishearten anyone, but particularly those who were trying to combat the disease.

Thus far, the disparate groups of scientists had been unsuccessful. Some cared little for sharing the glory and esteem that would come with developing a cure or even a vaccine. That was due in part to the nature of the disease; it seemed to be mutating at an alarming rate. But the isolated efforts meant the scientists had only their own results and ideas to work with. That produced a bias, and it worked against itself in a vicious cycle of trials and failures.

Some of the scientists and doctors had noticed that and begun to work together, sharing their findings and offering insight into their next moves. Their locations spanned the continent - New York, Los Angeles, the southeast, the southwest - but they communicated well and often, by calls and texts and emails, but especially via a database that kept their findings shared. Their efforts were kept quiet, for the moment. The only glory here was in finally vanquishing the murderous disease.

[Christian Moynahan]

His house had not seen him in days. Formerly, just after his return from Hawaii, Christian had spent about ten hours at Áine and fourteen either at hospitals to gather more information on the disease or at Ark's research labs. He was not explicitly a scientist, and he had no doctorates in anything, but he had learned much during his time working in the pharmaceutical industry, and he had been as much of a star student in the sciences as he was in business. Combined with the efforts of many of Ark's biologists and medical specialists, and in collaboration with his peers in the Kilvayne Corporation, he had been able to make some headway in developing a cure.

That was before he realized that the bacterial agent was evolving. Every time he or one of the others he was working with got close to developing a cure for it, the strain changed. Sometimes it infected part of the populace that had previously been immune to it. Most often, it produced a mutation that would not have been stopped by a vaccine or cured with a treatment that they had been working on. It was becoming harder to find people who were completely resistant to it; whatever antibodies they possessed would have given excellent insight in how best to eradicate it. But Christian did know of one such resistant person, and he used that person as his primary test subject.

Himself.

That was when he began to spend almost entire days at work. He ordered food or went to the cafeteria downstairs, during business hours; he used the showers that were on the premises to clear researchers of any residual substances. Occasionally he went for walks around the building, taking staircases rather than elevators, for exercise and for a bit of peace. He declined all of Fallon's attempts at PR for the moment, and instructed her to deflect any questions about Ark's current projects. It would make the company seem as though it was going back on its promise of transparency, but he would have to deal with that later.

There were pluses to being confined to a lab for hours at a time. Christian was very even-tempered by nature, but the harder he worked and the more the disease mutated and thwarted his efforts, the more frustrated he became. Frustration led to irritability, and he had to compose himself every time he stepped out of the lab or answered a call. Knowing how difficult he could be when he was frustrated, he did his best to avoid human contact except when absolutely necessary. Classical music was constantly playing in the lab; and, when he did venture outside of the room, he tucked a music player into his pocket and listened to it through earphones.

Marcello's oboe concerto was turned up to a comfortable volume. He was slouched in a chair, his eyes closed, absorbing the music as though its melodies and its harmonies gave him sustenance. He had lost weight during this period of self-imposed solitude; his unusually high metabolism, which he thought but was not sure was connected to his ability, had driven down his weight due to the lack of regular meals. Christian ate once or twice a day, three if the hunger grew troublesome enough; and even then, none of those were much more than glorified snacks. When he made appearances at Ark's cafeteria, usually as soon as it opened or just before it closed, the chefs and servers chided him on his unhealthy habits. They were right, and he knew it; without regular food and sleep, he could not operate at his most optimal level. Yet it was difficult to convince his mind that working twenty-four-seven would not produce results any faster in comparison to what he could do if he treated himself well.

Exhaustion was setting in now, but he could only stop for a while. The oboe concerto filled the room, and occasionally his body moved in some way that broke the illusion that he was sleeping. He knew the concerto by heart. A flourish of his hand to indicate a change in volume or theme; a few taps of his foot to keep time; a turn of his palm whenever there was a fermata, a note held long. His breathing had evened out, returning to a more bearable pace.

The laboratory he had claimed for his own use had no windows, but he knew night had fallen. The sun had been setting when last he ventured from the room, and that had been hours ago. Drawing a breath, he sat up and opened his eyes, his gaze drifting to the blood cultures set out in groups. Some were his; the others had been collected from patients at nearby hospitals. He would have to refresh that collection the next day. He would send Fallon to do that, he decided, since he had rendered her jobless for the moment. Besides, just the thought of blood seemed to make her squeamish. It fit with the sudden infestation of tiny green snakes in Archie Cane’s office. Which, of course, he’d had nothing to do with.

For now, he would refresh the control group. The drawing had become second nature to him now, although prior to this event he had only had to draw his own blood on two occasions, both in college. Now he handled the needle like a regular, like an addict. Not that it was any more comfortable each time. He’d be happy to never have to do a blood test again after this.

His mind was also beginning to play tricks on him the longer he was awake. There was music humming in his head even when the players were off, and words began to look odd on paper. And they sounded even stranger in his head. Onset. It was beginning to look like once, the Spanish word for “eleven.” And they sounded more and more alike as they passed through his head. Onset. Once. Onset. Once. This was going to stick with him in some strange way, he knew.

He hoped Lucius had Dakari working on the legal end of everything. Whatever they came up with would have to pass muster quickly, and, although he had many strings he could pull due to his former employ, it all needed to look neat and official. And it had to be done before, if possible, they actually found a cure. There were channels it would have to pass through before it could be distributed and used, and everyone - the entire country - needed that to happen the first instant it could.

For that, the CDC was...hesitant. The approach taken by the Kilvayne group was unconventional at best. They were also working in concert with the Kilvaynes, but with far more warnings and disapprovals, which were all met with due courtesy. They were the best resource for information, for data, and they also supplied additional resources whenever needed.

IntelliTouch was also involved, adding their efforts to the collaboration. It would have been difficult to tell who was pitching in the most, but no one was paying much attention. Christian certainly wasn't. One of the vials of blood went with the few other control samples, another into a Petri dish, and a third into a smear, which he studied under a microscope, turning the dials until what he needed came into view.

"Are you getting this?" The database he was using had been designed by someone at IntelliTouch, and tied them into the Kilvayne labs as well as Ark's. He placed another slide under the microscope and studied it as well. This one was from a recently infected subject. "It's exactly what we thought it would be."

This was excellent news. If the had begun to predict the disease's mutations, they could anticipate them, and vanquish it as it mutated again. They would need separate treatments for the separate strains that had been, but if they could just follow through on this point, the rest would be comparatively easy.

Christian sighed and reached for another slide. If they had accomplished what he thought they had, it was certainly soon enough.

[Lucius Kilvayne]

When passion's lost and all the trust is gone,
Way too far, for way too long
Children crying, cast out and neglected,
Only in a world so cold, only in a world this cold

"Are you getting this?"

Lex nodded. This was the break all right. He had contributed much of the data that Christian was working with on his end. Well, he was filling in gaps that the CDC couldn't. His patient load had been a fruitful endeavor. Of course, each mutation had been a pain in the ass individually, but this seemed to be the final key to the final door. Christian's genetic profile would likely end up as a template for the treatment. He knew the way that Lucius thought.


"It's exactly what we thought it would be."

"Good," Lucius said, who was connected to Christian and Lex and a number of other parties via the Internet and many monitors, "There are some approaches we can take. We can make vaccines one after another, but I happen to be a genetics expert and I know some biochemists who suggested that it would be expedient if we cloned your antibodies, Christian. Pending your consent, and FDA approval that is. Dakari and my father will be contacting people about that issue. As for your consent, I hope we can assume that is given?"

"It is," Christian responded.


"Excellent. I really think the catastrophic nature of the crisis shouldn't be too hard for even the Unites States government to grasp. As incredible as that sounds," Alexander mused. He was seated next to Lucius, and Dakari was on the phone with someone from the FDA. She had assured him that she would be very...persuasive. He didn't doubt it for a moment.


"When you have a serum prepared, let me know, Lucius," Lex added, " While most of my patients are doing fine, and others are too dead already, there are many that still could go either way. I dislike that very much."

"Understood" Lucius replied. This struggle was vexing them all, he knew. But it served a greater purpose. It would have been easier if that Trevor fellow could go to everyone, but that was unrealistic. Even the Gods had limits it seemed. Things like this humbled Lucius, and Lucius didn't like the taste of humble pie. So he threw his money and his mind at the problem, and solved it without using superhuman powers. The philosophical irony was not lost on him, but he had no time to work that vexing notion out. He had work to do.

" I think we just saved the world again, my friends and colleagues."

FIN

[Raphael Kim Ji Hyun]

back to norm...

Blaring out from the News Channel was the latest updates on the whole cholera mess. It seems to be the only thing on the news these days, covering the front pages of New York Times the number of affected patients, then the heart-aching number of deaths, the hopeful discoveries made by this and that scientists who are still working hard to find a cure, encouragements from the government telling the public to not give up on hope - which is more or less failing attempts to calm down the public. Oh, and the reminders for the public to keep up with good hygienic habits, to drink contaminated water, blah blah blah...

In another word, nothing is new.

Well, at least Ariel is recovering, Bringing back his attention to the task on hand, Raphael quickly cleaned out the table and brought the dishes into the kitchen. He was at the hospital earlier that day, Ariel is stabilizing, Doctor Lovelace told him, she is probably one of the few lucky ones who caught the version of the bugs that hasn't evolve, else none of the vaccine would have help. There is no telling how thankful Raphael is hearing that, even if it is by luck, at least he knows that she'll live.

Breathing finally came easier, not by any means he feels less worry, it is in his blood to worry for his baby sister until she comes home and bother the crap out of him again; it is in human nature to miss something only when it is not there.

After putting down the plates, he went back out to the front of the restaurant, wiping his hands on the T-shirt as he went. Dark eyes quickly darted around the small room, watching the familiar crowd enjoying dinner with their love ones, nothing much seems to be different. Life goes on, rain or shine, even a disease outbreak isn't enough to break a routine, that Raphael understand. Ain't he himself doing the same thing too?

His attention finally came to a rest on the familiar figure working tirelessly behind the cashier. Momma Kim was smiling politely as she talks to their neighbor Mrs. Heo, but if one knows how to read the lines on her face they could tell how tired she actually is; the worrying and sleepless nights take its toll on everyone of the family. Raphael himself was feeling aches in every inch of his body like he had been grind and bruised, not to mention the bad dreams haunting his every nights. In results it made him a little short tempered and unfocused, sometimes a little jumpy too.

A sign of annoyance flashed across his face, Raphael ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed, not too quietly too. It earned him a sympathetic grin from Wyatt, the part-time worker living just down the street. Raphael made a face back at him before heading towards the two ladies at the counter.

"Maybe I can help you to take a look at it sometimes after school tomorrow," Raphael offered as he stepped in, attempting to rescue his mom from the endless complaints Mrs. Heo has about the plumbing problem at her house. The Kims and the Heos have been neighbor for more than twenty years, and it has been the similar story every time she walks through the doors, complaining about the lights or the pipes or the plumbing or the gas, their landlord has never give more acknowledgement to these problems than a simple "Hmm, I will look into that"; he never did look into anything except when it comes to collecting the rental.

Not surprisingly, the lady hasn't given much of a hesitation before taking Raphael up on his offer - like she usually do. Her grin was wide when she said thanks. And after a few more polite exchanges, she disappeared into the busy street outside.

Yup, life is still the same, even with the lousy part of it firmly attached.

"Mom, didn't I ask you to go home and rest?" Moments later, Raphael returned his attention to his mother, he failed to keep accusation out of his tone. Sometimes Raphael wondered is this the payback for his rebellious period which had his parents worried about him so badly. He has never stop feeling guilty for his actions back then, not to mention he finally felt how it hurts to worry now, perhaps not on the same scale, but still...

The bell rang cut through the noise, Daddy Kim called out for Raphael to make a delivery runs, he called back a reply. After dropping another concerned words to his mom, and curling up his lips into a smile, this young man turned on his heels and headed off to work. He gave Daddy Kim a thumbs up before heading out the backdoor, secured the food on his bike then his helmet. And off he went roaring into the night.

Template by Paige @ ECLIPSE and CAUTION

[NPC]

---FIN PLOT ARC PART ONE---