20
Scientific Investigation
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Over the course of the next several days, investigations continued to try and root out the subversive elements of the population. The attack on John and Mephicia had been particularly brutal, and the assailant had yet to be identified, much less caught. Additional security forces had been drafted to help with the process of finding, questioning and DNA testing each member of the populace to determine if they could be placed near the scene, and the walls, flooring and fixtures of the cargo handling building where John and Mephicia were last located on the planet surface had been sampled for traces of DNA.
The problem was that the facility was in regular, if not constant use. A number of people regularly visited the building or worked within it, thus there would be a lot of different DNA patterns to look over and match with people. Hopefully, combined with a bit of old-fashioned detective work, they would find the culprits.
Davidson had taken overall charge of the investigation, since it involved multiple people near the top levels of his advisory board. Edward Mensar was a colleague and an adviser on some of the technical aspects of maintaining a colony. His son was one of those taken from the holding facility, and his daughter would potentially be a target, so she was being protected. John was someone he considered a friend now, after more than two years working with him, first in the capacity as a fellow crew member aboard the Tau Ceti, then as a member of the core group that made up the leadership of the colony. Security Officer Mephicia, while Davidson didn't know her particularly well, was a trusted member of the security guard on the Kl'Deesius and had been sent on detachment to liaise with the humans through John.
Both of them were in the process of moving Edward and Leila to the Kl'Deesius via the transport facility when they were attacked. Neither Edward nor Leila had seen the assailant, as they had already been transported aboard ship when the attack had taken place.
Helen had ensured that both sets of clothing from John and Mephicia had been retained for DNA testing, just in case the assailant had been sloppy, and he waited for her analysis to finish. Given they had to work with someone who could work with the technology available, Helen could not carry out the investigative work herself, and so it would have to wait until someone was available to begin the analysis.
Hopefully that would be later today.
Davidson had noticed that Stephen was less stable than usual. On a few occasions, he had noted a slightly shorter temper and a tendency toward more brutal forms of punishment when they discussed what to do with the assailants when they were caught. It was at a point where Davidson had point blank told Stephen that he could no longer discuss the case with him, prompting angry rebuttals regarding Davidson's lack of feelings for the fact that John had come close to being killed. Davidson would not be baited, and stoically repeated his injunction that they will not be discussing the matter any further, which prompted Stephen to stalk out of the temporary office that had been set up for the investigation aboard the ship.
Davidson understood Stephen's anger. Felt it on some level himself. However, he had a greater responsibility now, and needed to strive for at least a measure of impartiality. Mira had told him that she would do everything she could to ensure that things were smoothed over with her people given this sequence of events took place on their planet, but made it clear that they would expect the matter to be handled according to their rules.
That meant no vigilante justice, no capital punishment, and definitely no "enhanced interrogation" or any other euphemism for torture. There would be a trial according to the rules set up by the Earth charter in its' draft form (it had yet to be solidified and ratified by a leading council) and the defendants, once they were identified, would require representation from someone impartial.
It all gave Davidson a headache, but it was all necessary, and he could see that, even if Stephen was too close to the situation not to. He decided he needed a break. Tapping his communicator, he spoke.
"Davidson to Fleet Commander Miradima," he said, then waited for a telltale bleep.
"Yes, Walter?" Mira spoke punctiliously.
"Mira, you busy?" Davidson asked with a sigh.
Her response was instantaneous, her voice immediately expressing concern. "No. You OK?"
"Yeah, I just need to get away from this work for a few minutes."
There was the barest of pauses, as Davidson heard Miradima utter a few words to someone who was likely standing where she was, then turned her attention back to him. "We can meet in the dining area if you'd like?"
The ship was fairly quiet at the moment, with everyone on shift and the galley in between mealtimes, so Davidson could feel relaxed. "Sure, sounds good."
"Alright, see you in a few minutes." Her tone was warm as she signed off.
Smiling fondly, Davidson stood and stepped out of the office he was working in.
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Miradima sat in the dining section of her ship as she waited for Walter to appear. It had been a busy week for them both so far, and they both needed a break. It was only when Walter had put the call in to her that she realized the need to step away from the hectic schedule she had been keeping to get everything organized regarding the security arrangements on the planet below, on top of the usual reports and remote conferences she had to maintain as part of her role as Fleet Commander.
Yes, she did need a break indeed.
Walter had also sounded like he was under some degree of stress, and she hoped that her presence would comfort him.
The news that John and Security Officer Mephicia had been gravely injured had shaken her somewhat. John was a steadfast presence in their core group, and a friend to Stephen. Mephicia, while being a capable security officer in her own right, was also a personable character who would often engage in humorous conversations and the occasional practical joke with colleagues. Her continued presence in John's sphere of influence was remarkable in that she often did not spend too long with any one individual because of the nature of her work, and how busy she kept with her role in security.
It wasn't Miradima's place to speculate, so she gave it no further thought.
Walter had just walked in, anyway. He immediately commanded her attention with his presence, a man who was fit and strong, as large as any Tau Cetian male she had ever met, and whose commanding presence was an asset. His rigid exterior armored a noble, kind soul who had gotten lost for a while, but was now leading a welcome path to protecting those perceived as weaker than he was. It was a job he took to like a fish to water, and his tactical and military training led well to his future role commanding the armed forces and naval fleet that Earth would eventually be in a position to rebuild.
She had to admit she was biased. He was, after all, her partner, her personal confidante, her common law spouse, whatever you wanted to call it. She did not stick to any one description for their relationship, only that theirs was more solid than anything she had ever experienced, their personalities in constant synergy, even when they may otherwise disagree, they always managed to find a way to work things out, find balance, compromise, make time for each other, and work together on everything that was important to either, or both of them.
It helped that she felt a rush of pleasure any time she was with him, although sometimes that was an inconvenience when she had work to do. Regardless, theirs was a good, solid, stable and enjoyable relationship, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
He sat down, frowning as she smiled. "What's got you so cheerful?" he asked.
"Thinking of you," she admitted, a first for her. She would normally play off her desire for him as something completely different, despite how far their relationship had progressed. Today, she wasn't interested in anything other than making him feel better, and she would make it happen any way she had to.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"That's a first," Walter commented gruffly, though his tone and his expression were belied by the gentle grip he gave her hand in his big paw. "You, admitting you think of me?"
She reached out and touched his face, brushing some stray hair back around his ear. "You sounded stressed earlier," she said without any further comment.
Walter nodded, looking off into the distance. "Just a little frustrated. A lot to do, still no leads, and still no news on our two patients in Med Bay."
"Helen?" Miradima asked.
Walter frowned for a second. "She's OK, I think. Been busy keeping an eye on both of them, but she's itching to start a DNA analysis on them to try and track down their attacker." And with that, he squeezed Miradima's hand a little harder, clearly expressing in her mind, that he was still angry about the incident.
As well he might, she thought to herself. She was angered by it as well. "We'll find them," she assured him. "I'm going to go see her shortly, and I'll make time to go through the analysis with her."
Walter narrowed his eyes a fraction. "You?"
"Yes," Miradima told him. "I have experience in research and sensor analysis from my time as a Tactical Sub Commander aboard the Kl'Orix. I have not forgotten any of it."
Walter raised his eyebrows for a second, then gave a shrug. "Fair," he admitted. "You free later?"
Miradima smiled coyly at him, brushing her hair out of her face and over the back of her ear as she replied to him. "Why, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"What," Walter's tone was laced with humor. "That we should spend the evening together?"
Miradima pretended surprise. "Oh," she said in a faux-dejected tone. "I thought you wanted me to look at a tactical analysis of the new ship we're building near Earth."
Walter was very quick. "No, that's tomorrow," he quipped. "Tonight, I want a tactical analysis of you, in my arms."
Miradima couldn't help but snort in laughter. "That was particularly frightful," she giggled, surprising herself. "But yes, I would love to spend the night with you. Meet at my quarters, I have something special in mind!"
Miradima was not going to tell him exactly what she had planned. He was going to be pleasantly surprised, however.
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Helen sat back after going over the reports that she had just received on the articles of clothing retrieved from John and Mephicia. There were at least six DNA samples extracted from them, and she needed to set aside time to look at them and sort out whose was whose.
It was difficult, given that all of them were so similar in the first place, and none stood out. She assumed that Mephicia wasn't included in the report, since the other people in the report must have been human, their DNA signatures a match to the human genome. This was going to be tedious, she thought to herself. Sighing tiredly, she found herself missing the reassuring presence of Marlon.
She was still not over his death. She never really would be, and she was coming to terms with that fact. Today was a better day than many. She was only slightly melancholy, suppressing the sadness and the ache so she could focus on her work, occasionally stopping to take a break when the need to do so called upon her. There were still some days when she had to stop whatever she was doing and go some place quiet. It didn't help that her hormones were all over the place with this pregnancy, which both frustrated her and gave her a sense of bittersweet longing.
Sometimes, she would talk with Janet about it, though she was hardly someone with the most reassuring manner. Still, after Janet had revealed her past with Simon all those months back at the lunar complex, Helen had made every effort to stop wallowing in self pity, and took her comments about understanding her pain more seriously. While Janet was hardly someone to spend a girls' night in with, Helen did at least respect the younger woman and appreciated her efforts at being a friend.
John was far easier to get along with, giving and easy-going. Problem is that John had never had the kind of loss she was still suffering from, and even he admitted once to her that he would most likely be a bad candidate for a shoulder to cry on. Helen doubted that was true, but she nonetheless felt uncomfortable discussing Marlon with him, given the two men had been friends in their old life, John was still feeling that loss, and he was often seen in the company of Mephicia. Even putting all of that to one side, John was currently in no position to talk to anyone about anything.
Focus, she told herself sternly.
Taking a deep breath, she went back to analyzing her data. The panel displaying genetic markers took up the entire screen, with a side panel for information revealing who, if known, possessed that particular DNA sample.
This one was John's. She recognized the markers identifying numerous Endogenous Retroviral sites, ERV's for short. Those sites were where viral infections had compromised the DNA of human beings in the past, but where the subjects in question had survived and passed on their genes to subsequent generations. Every human had these ERVs, with some possessing different ones in addition to these depending on where they lived, who they descended from, and other factors, but the baseline location for these was always the same. It was one of a multitude of identifying factors that allowed Helen to determine what species a particular DNA sample hailed from, even though she was a medical doctor and not a geneticist.
She switched samples on the screen to look at the next one. This was one of the unidentified matches.
Human. ERVs in exactly the same location. She tagged it for further analysis, pending the results of DNA sample collection from the populace at some future time. Hopefully they would find a match in the known population.
Switching samples again, she found another one, also human. Same with the next, and the next.
Then she switched samples again. Mephicia.
Also human.
Wait...
Helen checked the sample again. This time, she studied the genetic code more closely. She was becoming more disconcerted by what she was seeing. The samples were obviously not identical to each other. After all, people were not clones of each other, but there was always going to be a vast area of overlap in the genetic code that each person possessed. Helen remembered from her university-level evolutionary biology classes, that humans and other great apes from Earth shared approximately 98% of their DNA, that the key difference between humans and chimpanzees for example was the fusion site of Chromosome 42, and the ERVs she had used as a base for determining which of the samples was human and which was not.
Quickly, she ran back to the medical bay and fetched a sample of some healing gel that was being cultivated in the ships' storage there. Taking it back to her lab, she placed a sample of it in the analysis unit and took a reading. She had seen this stuff before, applied to wounds when she was helping with Mephicia's treatment. The medics on the scene had told her that they developed it from a natural plant that grew on Tau Ceti 3, imported to Tau Ceti 5 and harvested for its' anaesthetic and anti-inflammatory properties.
What interested Helen was the construction of its DNA.
Parsing it through the analyzer, she immediately received a result, including a Tau Cetian language identification code that matched that of the exact grass species it had been catalogued from. Most shocking of all was its' construction. More certain than ever, and coming dangerously close to distress that this could all be subterfuge on the part of the Tau Cetians, she immediately tapped her communicator.
"Fleet Commander Miradima," she spoke tersely, making an effort to control her breathing.
"Yes Helen?" Miradima's voice came back, relaxed.
"Can you come down to the medical lab near the med bay for a second?"
There was a pause. "I'll be there in a moment."
"Thanks," Helen said just as the communication ended.
A few minutes later, and as she was about to start calling for the help of others around her in case things went badly, Helen sat up, startled as the doors to the lab opened, and Miradima walked in. Davidson was with her.
Oddly, the gruff military officer and former soldier's presence was comforting and made Helen feel safe. "Helen," he nodded in greeting.
"Davidson," she nodded back to him, turning to Miradima. "Miradima," she added a greeting to the Fleet Commander.
"Everything alright?" Miradima asked, her voice filled with concern.
Helen decided to jump straight in, trying to keep her voice level, as she started to explain. First, she showed them the slides of the unidentified samples on the clothing taken from John and Mephicia. Then she showed John's DNA sample.
"So far, it looks like they're all human," Davidson commented. "Which is what we predicted."
Helen then tapped the next sample. Mephicia's. "This is Mephicia's sample. Notice the similarities between all of the others?" She tapped a control, placing all of them in vertical formation so their genome could be compared side-by-side. "The only differences between the samples I took from the clothing and Mephicia's own DNA is the lack of an ERV site for a retrovirus that swept through the population of Earth sometime in the last 10,000 years. Look here," and she pointed to another site on Mephicia's profile. "This ERV site isn't present on any of the other samples."
Davidson frowned. Miradima's face was slack. "Did our two people encounter the same viruses in the past?" she asked.
"It's not possible," Helen told her. "Look at this."
She pushed a control on the display. "This is a sample of the healing agent I used to treat Mephicia over the last few days," she said, pointing out the new genome profile that now stood next to the others. It was clearly different. "This is a triple helix construction. The strands all line up to fit each other in a trio-formation that I've never seen anywhere on Earth."
Helen watched closely, as Miradima's face went through a variety of emotions, from puzzlement, to confusion, to realization, and then all the blood drained from her face as she went into outright shock. "I had no idea..." she trailed off, grabbing a seat and lowering herself into it.
"Wait," Davidson frowned, looking to Miradima, obvious concern on his face, then turned back to Helen. "What the hell does that mean?!"
"It means," Helen said, feeling a sense of betrayal she could not articulate into words. "That the Tau Cetian people are humans, just like we are!"