Ming had worked most of the previous night on the nanites, attempting to configure
them to treat Lieutenant Gregholt's affliction. Gregholt had pure, unaltered
human DNA, which made Ming's job easier. All he had to do was program the nanites
to reconstruct Gregholt's original DNA sequence based on patterns stored in
the transporter buffer. The damaged DNA would be replaced by healthy DNA; a
specially-generated enzyme would mitigate the effects of the infection ravaging
the officer's body.
The nanites were microscopic machines, only a few steps removed from complex molecules but capable of performing complex tasks on an inhuman scale. Being Borg technology, they necessitated the use of far more safeguards than Ming was used to using on a daily basis. For the first time since the Academy he worked with a glove box, using miniature tractor beams to manipulate the nanites and the apparatus he used to reprogram them--a process as much biochemical as cybernetic.
As Ming worked, he made notes on a PADD to transfer to his data files related to the Karissa/Shara/Benson project. If he could find some way of helping his friends, he'd use it.
Finally, the work was completed. Testing the nanites on a sample of Gregholt's tissue, Ming achieved the intended results: within a minute the diseased sample was rendered into healthy tissue. "Wang to Dr. Hancock--I think we're ready!"
[Acknowledged. Activating transporter circuit,] the ship's doctor replied. The nanites were far too risky to transport any other way. Within seconds the nanites were transferred from the science lab's glove box to a hypospray in Sickbay. Dr. Will Hancock, outfitted in an environment suit, applied the hypospray to Gregholt's carotid artery. He then began scanning the patient with his tricorder. He smiled as he saw the readings...
[The reprogrammed nanites are working! Good work, Ming!] Will notified him.
"How long until we can expect Gregholt's condition to improve?" Ming asked from his office.
[I'd give it 24 hours at least. The damage was pretty extensive. Even then we may not be out of the woods, so keep your fingers crossed.]
"Most definitely," Ming said, rubbing the belly of his Ho-tei statue.
Hours later, Ming was reading over a technical journal as he sat in the mess hall, eating a bowl of soup. Ciara joined him.
"It looks like Gregholt's going to make it!" she said, embracing him from behind.
Ming smiled. "I'm glad. I just wish I knew of a way to reuse those nanites. Just think of what we could do--not only for the research project, but for medicine in general!"
"You'll find a way, I'm sure," Ciara said. "What's that you're reading?"
"Technical Abstracts of the USS Voyager Delta Quadrant Survey," Ming replied. "The Voyager crew uncovered a lot of information on Borg technology I think might be helpful here."
"That's true," Ciara said. "The Borg are the only group we currently know about that could reengineer living bodies to the extent we've seen--and the Voyager records have proven revolutionary in our understanding of the Collective."
"Hmmm...maybe not," Ming said, his attention caught by a short passage.
"What do you mean?" Ciara asked, puzzled.
"The Romulans had contact with the Borg long before the Federation did; apparently they did their own research. Now that relations have normalized with the Romulan Empire we might have more access to their technical journals," Ming replied. "Computer, search library database for Romulan technical journals relating to nanotechnology or the Borg Collective."
<Acknowledged. Search complete. Thirteen journals match your inquiry.>
"Download the appropriate issues to my terminal," Ming said, hurriedly finishing his soup. "Come on, Ciara! I think we might have a breakthrough here!"
"I can't understand any of this!" Ming said. "The text translated well enough but the numbers just aren't adding up!" He set the texts aside to focus on something he knew a little better: DNA resequencing.
The nanotechnology treatment would not have been efficacious for either Karissa or Shara: their DNA sequences were too well-engineered. Changing any of the sequences would have had catastrophic effects in every simulation he tried. Likewise, he worked with Benson's sequence, a task complicated by the fact that the engineering on Benson's DNA was much more primitive and the fact that his base DNA sequence was defective to begin with.
But if I could treat the original defect...hmmm... He tried another manipulation on the computer. Yes, that's it! If I can treat the Down's Syndrome, like his parents originally wanted from Dr. Mikori, that might at least get Benson to an average level of intelligence. And once his intelligence improves his moods should stabilize.
"Computer, identify Starfleet
personnel fluent in the Romulan language. Rank in order of level of fluency,
adjusting for understanding of cultural and idiomatic usages," Ming ordered.
One hundred and seventy-five names appeared on his screen as top candidates.
The first forty-three were working for Starfleet Intelligence--probably not
the best people to talk to
if Intelligence is behind this, Ming thought. Number forty-four on the list
caught his attention.
"Computer, re-rank the top candidates in terms of engineering knowledge and ability," Ming queried. Number forty-four on the list suddenly became number eight; the rest were with Intelligence.
Immediately Ming began formulating a message.
Location: Supply Base 901
The next day
Lieutenant Colonel Tarik sat in his office, reviewing certain engineering files and recuperating from his wounds from the Morristown campaign and extremely irked that he wasn't cleared by Medical to return to the field. Dammit, my people need me right now! he thought, seriously contemplating the notion of stealing an personnel transport and heading out to the front on his own.
<Incoming message> his terminal sounded.
"Display," he ordered.
The viewscreen activated, to display the image of a Chinese lieutenant wearing the blue collar of Science. [Good day, Colonel Tarik. I am Lieutenant Ming Wang, Chief Science Officer aboard the USS Ronin. I was wondering if you could be of assistance to me.]
Tarik sensed the younger officer's apprehension. "What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" What the hell--it's bound to be more interesting than what I'm doing now!
[I am doing some research into nanotechnology and have been trying to study Romulan research materials on the subject. Unfortunately I've hit a few barriers and I was wondering if you could help me out.]
"Uhh, Lieutenant, I think you might have the wrong branch of the service.You want the Sciences section. We're strictly heartbreakers and life-takers here!" Tarik laughed.
[Your reputation in engineering precedes you, sir. And who better to translate Romulan texts than an actual Romulan?]
"I suppose you have a point there," Tarik said. "Very well, Lieutenant. I'll take a look at your texts, but there's going to be a price involved." In fact, Tarik had every intention of helping Ming; he just wanted to string the younger officer along and test his mettle.
[Name your price,] Ming said.
"A case of Saurian brandy, payable the next time you're in the Briar Patch," Tarik said. He knew where the Ronin was and how likely that that bet would be paid anytime soon. By the time Mr. Wang gets out to these parts he'll have the rank behind him to afford that much brandy, too!
[It's a deal. I'll transmit the documents now. Thank you, sir!]
"What are they teaching these kids in the Academy?" Tarik remarked aloud as Ming signed off.
Science Lab, USS Ronin
Two days later
Ming's terminal chimed, indicating the arrival of a massive data file. He looked at the signature and noted it was from Colonel Tarik. Opening the files, he found the technical journals he'd sent the previous day, completely translated and annotated. He also found a recording.
"Computer, play recording."
[Good day, Lieutenant. As I promised,
here are those journals you were curious about. I must say that you seem to
be looking at some fairly high-level stuff. The reason your numbers weren't
working out is because the journals weren't using the colloquial numbering system
most non-native Romulan speakers learn. Also, a lot of the technical data was
encrypted.
You owe thanks to one Ensign Paul Deveraux for his services; add another case
of Saurian to your bill--and not that synthehol crap!
Algorithms for decrypting the files
are included here. It is my obligation as your superior officer to warn you
that there are certain parties who probably don't want you looking at this data,
and not all of them are Romulan. I assume that you're acting with the full knowledge
and consent of your command structure. If you should run afoul of certain individuals
claiming to represent Starfleet Intelligence, I won't be able to do much for
you but this gentleman can. You'll probably be within fairly close proximity
to his vessel in the next few months. Good luck, Lieutenant!]
With that, Tarik's message ended, and the profile of another Marine officer appeared on Ming's screen. Just what am I getting myself into here? he thought.
Using the information he gleaned from the Romulan technical journals on Borg techonolgy, Ming was able to reconstruct a small group of nanites the following day. The next challenge lay ahead--reprogramming the nanites to do the job of giving Benson a stable and sound mind...