Part 20 (2/2)

”We don't have months,” she said. She doubted they even had hours left.

”I know,” Governo said.

She stared over Governo's shoulder at the image of the prions on the screen. They were slowly working their way toward each other in the solution.

”I think the attraction comes from this one,” Governo said, highlighting the prion with a red glow. Suddenly, staring at that red glow, Pulaski had the solution.

”What happens if we coat it?” she said.

”What?” Governo said, turning to stare at her.

”See the red highlight you have on that prion?”

He glanced around at it. ”Yes?”

”You said you think the special prion is attracting the others in some unseen way. Right?” He nodded.

”So what would happen if we coated all the prions somehow, and try to block the attraction, whatever it might be.”

Governo nodded. ”It might work. But first we have to find something that will stick to them.”

Pulaski moved quickly to the door and out into the lab area. Narat was working over a sick Carda.s.sian. Ogawa and Marvig huddled over a badly injured Bajoran.

”Listen up everyone,” Pulaski said to her team. ”I need at least a dozen blood cultures from all three races, virus-free but full of prions, set up at once. And then I need another dozen being set up right behind the first dozen. Make it fast.” ”Did you find a cure?” Narat asked.

”We don't know yet,” she said, heading for the nearest Carda.s.sian to start drawing samples of blood. ”And until we get these cultures set up, we won't know. You want to help?”

Narat had the common sense not to say anything more. But he instantly went to work beside her.

It took them thirty minutes to get everything set and ready to go for the first tests.

And another twenty minutes and seven failures before they found a molecular cousin of an iodine derivative that actually stuck to the prions, turning all of them the same shade of sickly brown. It was as if the prions had been dipped in dye.

”Now,” Pulaski said, staring at the monitor in the office, ”we need to find something that will ride on the iodine carrier, something that will block the attraction.”

”I don't think we're going to need to,” Governo said, his voice an octave higher than she had ever heard it. ”Look at this!”

She watched the monitor where he was pointing. The sickly brown prions in the solution were moving past each other, not seeming to even notice. The attraction between them seemed to be gone.

”Color?” Pulaski said. ”Could the attraction have been something as simple as color?”

”Or maybe they hate the derivative,” Governo said. ”At such a microscopic level, anything is possible.”

They both stared at the prions for a few more long moments. But unlike what had been happening in previous tests, these prions were no longer interested in each other. And without that interest, they wouldn't form the deadly virus.

Governo looked up at her, his smile filling his face. ”It's working. It's actually working.”

Pulaski stepped back quickly into the medical lab. ”How many more cultures from all three races are set up?”

”Six each,” Ogawa said.

”I want to use all of them to test the iodine derivative. Quickly. Everyone monitor the cultures and put the computer on them as well. We don't want any prions to join.”

Ten minutes later the tests, with the entire team watching closely, seemed to be conclusive. But she had to be sure-and at this point all normal medical procedures were long out the airlock.

”Now we try it in patients,” she said.

Narat looked at her. That hesitation was built into both of them. But they had to get past it. They had to work quickly, or they would lose every chance they had. If the Carda.s.sians blew up Terok Nor and then killed everyone on Bajor, they still wouldn't have stopped the plague. They would have committed genocide and a few days later gotten sick on Carda.s.sia Prime.

And they would have unknowingly killed off their best chance to a solution. Narat nodded.

Pulaski quickly mixed the iodine derivative with the cure and injected it into two Carda.s.sians and two Bajorans, plus the older Ferengi.

Eighteen minutes later she had enough faith in their cure to call Dukat.

His face appeared on the screen. He wasn't the strong, confident Carda.s.sian leader he'd been when she'd arrived. Now he looked more like a tired street fighter. And when he saw her he didn't even smile. ”We have it,” she said. ”And you're sure it's permanent this time?” ”As sure as I can be under these conditions.”

He nodded. ”Get some to Narat and start the distribution. I'll see what I can do to convince the s.h.i.+ps outside.” ”I will,” she said.

He cut the connection. Behind her Governo said, ”Not even a thank-you.” She dropped down into the chair and took a deep breath. ”Not yet,” she said, staring at the blank screen. ”If we survive the next few hours, then he might thank us.”

She glanced at the Carda.s.sians who were getting this new version of the cure, and the Bajorans, who were walking around again, and the Ferengi, who was clapping his ears and jumping up and down, dearly gleeful that he felt better.

Governo followed her gaze. She smiled at him tiredly, and said, ”I think we have all the thanks we need right here.” Epilogue IT TOOK TWO WEEKS. They were smarter than he thought. His observers had reported back, saying the virus had been defeated yet again.

He was glad he was doing test cases. He had underestimated the intelligence of his foes. But he wouldn't do that again. He would be very careful next time. And, if it took a few more attempts, he would make them. He wanted to do this right. He would do this right.

And one day soon, he would succeed.

When someone said lack of pain was the best experience in the world, Quark had never understood them. But after this week, he did. His ears no longer itched and, more importantly, the pustules were gone from his ear ca.n.a.l. The female doctor had p.r.o.nounced him well before she left-and her casual fingering of his lobes had proven that he still had ear function.

His ears were operating in another capacity now. They were reveling in the sound of a full bar. The fighting had stopped, which was too bad for the Bajorans but did ensure that Quark's black-market business would kick back up soon. Carda.s.sians crowded the Dabo table, spending hard-earned latinum. They were drinking to wonderful excess, and a few were so happy to be alive they were splurging on expensive liquors, many of which Rom did not even know the names of.

Rom would come back to the bar, tray in hand, and mangle an order, often so badly that Quark would have to go to the table himself to clarify. But he was in too good a mood to be angry. He'd let Rom get away with his incompetence today. Tomorrow would be another story. Tomorrow, Rom and Nog had to start saving their salaries for another gold-plated ear brush, one Quark had had his eye on for a long, long time.

They would give him the funds, of course, or even better, he would never pay them and use the money for that brush. Which he would then keep locked up-and he would wear the key around his neck. He didn't want to risk cross-contamination again.

No matter what that female doctor and Kellec Ton had said. They believed that someone, or something, had actually brought the virus to the bar. They believed that the Ferengi had been infected first. Quark had begged them and even tried to bribe them to prevent them from sharing that insight with Narat, and in the end they had agreed. Kellec Ton, to Quark's surprise, negotiated the bribe: He wanted Quark to help with the Bajoran resistance on the station. In small ways. Funneling in messages or supplies, or helping someone escape Odo's eye. Quark refused, until Kellec Ton reminded him that they could easily reinfect the Ferengi-and make certain the virus didn't spread beyond Quark, Rom, and Nog.

Quark didn't believe the threat. He didn't think Kellec Ton was that sort of man (and the hu-man female's attempt to hide her laughter reinforced that) but, on the off-chance that the threat was real, Quark agreed to those terms, for a time of limited duration. He suggested a week. Kellec suggested a month. They had compromised on two weeks.

Which was good enough for Quark. It protected his bar, his livelihood, and, much as he hated to admit it, his family. For it looked like Rom and Nog weren't going anywhere soon. And that meant that Quark had to teach them to be at least mildly competent.

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