Forge, Jean, & Essex - Sunday morning
May. 13th, 2007 11:32 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAfter procuring the assistance of Dr. Essex, Forge and Jean assist in the procedure of restoring the Hounds to their original states.
While on the outside, the hospital looked like it was on the verge of falling down, Rory Campbell had definitely maintained the interior. The entire main surgical theater had been turned into an array of machines, from genetic sequencers to plasma separators to transfusion equipment.
Everything a mad scientist would need to mess with the human genome.
Forge might not have had the intuitive grasp of genetics that he had for machines, but the machines themselves were a roadmap for him, confirming what he had suspected. The Hound process could be reversed.
Unfortunately, it needed a level of expertise far beyond his own, far beyond any doctor's, even Moira's. And so he found himself standing outside the circle of machinery, where his three friends lay strapped to gurneys, heavily sedated, while Nathaniel Essex Nathaniel Essex slowly looked over the scene.
Despite being roused, the Doctor had appeared in his typical black suit, cut razor sharp and expensive. He displayed no emotion, but his gaze seemed to take in everything with precision. Finally, he walked forward to look at the three students on their slabs. No one caught his brief mutter, but a flicker of anger crossed his features for a split second.
Essex stepped back out of the circle and regarded Jean Grey. "Doctor Grey. I see the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated."
Jean smiled tightly, tension showing in every inch of her posture as she stood, watching over her students. It was madness to trust Essex. It was also their only hope. Jean knew it, but she didn't like it. "If this is the first you've heard of it, you're a tad out of date, Doctor Essex." She hesitated, then added, "Thank you for helping us."
"I'm afraid that I've been somewhat out of touch, Dr Grey, and for some reason, the alumni newsletter no longer has me on their mailing list." Essex said dryly. "I'll need your initial notes on the condition of the children, and any of the medical readings and tests you may have already run. I assume that console is the main controls for this machine, Mister Forge?"
Brushing his fingers over the machine, Forge let it speak to him, illustrating its purpose. "This one controls the others, yeah. They're slaved to it, Rory obviously designed the procedure to only need one person running it. They're all up and running." And I'll make sure they do what they're supposed to, he thought, loud enough for Jean to hear. That was his role here. Jean might not be able to read Essex's mind, but Forge could read the machines, which was the next best thing.
There wasn't any outward sign, but the mental nod to Forge said as much as a physical one would have. "The computer has all the information for you - we didn't have time to make hard copies."
Essex bent over the console, deftly operating the controls as he familiarized himself with the configuration. "Rory. Clever boy." He said softly, almost under his breath as his hands moved over the console. Finally he straightened up and withdrew a pair of glasses from his coat pocket and put them on. "Yes, sadly, it has come to this."
Essex made a few adjustments, and information began to scroll down the screen. Ahab's genetic mapping scanner was on the crude side, but effective enough. The readings and numbers flicking by would seem meaningless mathematical gibberish to most people, but to Essex's mind, it was like the summary of a mystery plot, detailing every clue and history of what had happened.
"You were right to contact me, Mister Forge. These children are dying."
Essex's detachment in the face of the situation turned Forge's stomach. He recalled what the older scientist had told him, when they'd been thrown into cooperation for the Xorn situation; "I believe your instinctive reactions are compromising your ability to consider this dispassionately".
If detachment was what it was going to take to save Marius, Jennie, and Kyle - then so be it, Forge thought. He simply nodded to Essex and turned his attention to the machines as they began their processes. Right now it didn't matter that those were his friends on the operating tables. He had to look at the situation as only the data, only the facts before him. Let Jean concern herself with how his friends - the patients - were faring.
"Machines are running at full efficiency," he droned quietly, closing his eyes and methodically turning his attention from one to the other as easily as he would look around a room.
Jean's eyes narrowed slightly at Essex's pronouncement. It wasn't news - she and Moira had come to the conclusion that they couldn't do anything for the children a while ago. Which was why Essex had been called in the first place. In a corner of her mind she felt Forge's attention focus more tightly onto the machines, the mechanical flavor of his thoughts increasing exponentially, but Jean didn't take her eyes off of their only hope.
"They are, doctor," she agreed, voice level. "But can you help them?"
Essex was silent for a long moment, diverting his attentions between the teens on the slabs and the console in front of him. "Yes." He said finally, straightening from the display. "Campbell always was more of a lab technician than a geneticist."
He took a step back and walked the perimeter of the machine, in silence and simply looking at it before he came back to the console. From his pocket he pulled out a slim PDA, making them wait without explanation as he worked through some figures. "Doctor Grey, assuming Charles hasn't changed his procedure since I left, I will need the genetic maps from the DNA samples of these children. The most recent for preference, but any within the last three years will be sufficient."
"Already loaded into the system," Forge said tonelessly, reaching out to adjust a dial. "Doctor Campbell took a base scan before the procedure, it seems. I'm labeling them Hades, Tyche, and Enkidu. Transferring them into the mainframe... now."
Slowly, the purpose of the machines was coming together in Forge's mind. The original genetic maps of Marius, Jennie, and Kyle would be compared to the current ones, and the procedure used to graft specific traits onto their DNA could be reversed, using the default template as a guide.
The procedure would be like stripping away layers of paint from a masterpiece to restore it to its original condition - without ruining the painting itself.
Jean's eyes shifted back to the standard bio-monitors as Dr. Essex looked over the kids' genetic templates, reassuring herself that they were still stable, at least for the moment. She cycled through the readouts, then flicked her gaze back to Essex as he looked up from the screens. "Will you need assistance?" She paused, mind flicking back to their time at Johns Hopkins before adding, "Can I help?"
"Yes. Once we've arrested the macro-cellular degeneration, and begun to re-integrate the base DNA, all of them are going to be at extreme risk of systemic and virulent rejection. Mister Forge, if you can patch the following over to Doctor Grey." Essex took a zip drive from his pocket and slipped it into the USB port in the console. "You will start getting biometric spikes in random, disassociated areas. Ignore them. What you're looking for is a pattern; it will precede simultaneous incidences in genetic failure. Before that happens, you need to suppress their systems completely. Too soon and they will go into comas immediately. Too late and they'll be dead before we can reach the operating table."
Essex tapped another few buttons, his concentration and focus deep. "I dearly miss Miss Pryde at this moment."
Forge's head snapped up. "Miss Pryde would be a gibbering wreck at this point looking at her friends like this," he replied harshly, "Don't wish for amateur hour when you've got the maestro warming up in the wings. Information is patched, sequencers up... now."
Jean had serious issue with the uses Essex had put Kitty to in her time, and she had to wonder just how closely they had been working together, for the man to want the girl's help now - the medical files and staff reports clearly hadn't covered everything. "I may not have had the specific training you gave Kitty last time, Nathaniel," Jean said, voice cold, momentarily forgetting that Forge might not have been privileged to that information, "but I trust my actual medical degree will stand me in good stead. Could we possibly focus?"
"Sadly, it was not medical skills that Miss Pryde provided so effectively, but a clear headed and incisive technical mastery, without personal arrogance." Essex's voice was clear and casual, even though his attention never wavered from his monitor. Under his fingers, the hopelessly complex genetic wave was slowly building, like a master weaver shuttling together the world's most intertwined loom. "Do be careful not to disrespect her in my presence, Mister Forge. My patience on that matter is surprisingly limited, all things considered."
The room descended into a chilly silence as he worked, ignoring everything but the information at his fingertips. Rory's machine was crude, meant to brute-force the procedure, and leaving Essex to work without the automated precision he would have demanded. Minutes stretched into an hour and past. Finally, the silent doctor paused and stepped back from the console. "That should be the final touch. Dr. Grey, we are going to begin the re-imprinting process. In a sense, we're going to use the method Campbell stole to re-imprint the three children, but with their own DNA as opposed to this rather macabre genetic cocktail that Rory used. That will reverse the physiological changes to the three. This is the point of greatest danger of rejection as well. Once complete, and Mister Forge takes his leave of us, we will use the final part of the process to fix the imprint to their genetic map, making it permanent."
"Except for the part where Mister Forge isn't leaving," Forge corrected "I'm here until these machines are shut down, my friends are stable, and then the equipment's destroyed. I'll put up with the disrespect of my capabilities in comparison to your ex-protégé, but I'm not allowing you, this equipment, and my friends in the same room without watching like a hawk. I asked for your help to save my friends' lives, Doctor, not to grandstand like some snake-oil-selling charlatan. Finish the procedure."
Jean nodded. "Agreed, Doctor Essex. You knew both medical and technological oversight was to be expected in this matter."
"I'm afraid not. The process used to affix the genetic mapping is potentially an extremely powerful weapon, and the property of the United States military. To allow Mister Forge to operate the machinery with his powers would, in essence, be providing the technology to him. Since he does not have the military clearance to possess this technology, we would both be committing a federal crime punishable by life imprisonment. It would be irresponsible and unethical to place this technology into the hands of someone as young as Mister Forge, especially without the acquiescence of the United States Army."
Essex slipped his hands into his pockets. "Or, if I am truly the villain that you have ascribed me as during your arrogance and insults, I gain absolutely no benefit in the survival of these children, especially while you gain access to technology of immense value. Whichever may motive you choose to believe is in your hands, but the fact remains that in the next minute, either Mister Forge walks through that door or I do." He pulled the cellphone from his pocket and flipped it open. "The decision is entirely up to you."
Forge clenched his hands in anger. The choice was clear - stand up to Essex and risk the lives of the patients - his friends, or...
Detachment, he thought to himself.
"Doctor Grey, Doctor Essex," Forge said quietly, "I'll leave you to finish the procedure."
He walked away from the operating table, pausing to touch Jean on the arm. If anything goes wrong, if this doesn't work, his mutant null power isn't going to save him from what I am going to do, he thought as strongly as he could before walking out of the operating room.
Jean watched Forge leave, considering, not for the first time, just how much anger the young man was capable of. Not that she hadn't also worked out half a dozen things she could do to Essex without his ability interrupting her powers before he even left the room should something happen. Face perfectly composed, Jean turned back to Doctor Essex. "Very well then," she said, "shall we begin?"
Essex bent over the console. He removed a second flash drive from his pocket and slipped it into the slot, silent for nearly ten minutes as he realigned the machine's configuration. His only words were halfway through, doublechecking the biometric readings of the students from Jean. Finally, he touched a button and the machine came to life.
"It should take another ten minutes or so for the overlap to fix itself to the genetic structure as the base DNA. There will be some side effects as their bodies adapt to being their bodies again. Five days from now, you will need to run a full genetic profile to confirm the process. It would be best to consult with me on the results, but that is your choice." He slipped the drive back into his pocket as soon as the process ended, removing any hint of what his solution was. "Do tell Charles the next time he needs a housecall, a more sedate driver would be appreciated."
While on the outside, the hospital looked like it was on the verge of falling down, Rory Campbell had definitely maintained the interior. The entire main surgical theater had been turned into an array of machines, from genetic sequencers to plasma separators to transfusion equipment.
Everything a mad scientist would need to mess with the human genome.
Forge might not have had the intuitive grasp of genetics that he had for machines, but the machines themselves were a roadmap for him, confirming what he had suspected. The Hound process could be reversed.
Unfortunately, it needed a level of expertise far beyond his own, far beyond any doctor's, even Moira's. And so he found himself standing outside the circle of machinery, where his three friends lay strapped to gurneys, heavily sedated, while Nathaniel Essex Nathaniel Essex slowly looked over the scene.
Despite being roused, the Doctor had appeared in his typical black suit, cut razor sharp and expensive. He displayed no emotion, but his gaze seemed to take in everything with precision. Finally, he walked forward to look at the three students on their slabs. No one caught his brief mutter, but a flicker of anger crossed his features for a split second.
Essex stepped back out of the circle and regarded Jean Grey. "Doctor Grey. I see the reports of your death were greatly exaggerated."
Jean smiled tightly, tension showing in every inch of her posture as she stood, watching over her students. It was madness to trust Essex. It was also their only hope. Jean knew it, but she didn't like it. "If this is the first you've heard of it, you're a tad out of date, Doctor Essex." She hesitated, then added, "Thank you for helping us."
"I'm afraid that I've been somewhat out of touch, Dr Grey, and for some reason, the alumni newsletter no longer has me on their mailing list." Essex said dryly. "I'll need your initial notes on the condition of the children, and any of the medical readings and tests you may have already run. I assume that console is the main controls for this machine, Mister Forge?"
Brushing his fingers over the machine, Forge let it speak to him, illustrating its purpose. "This one controls the others, yeah. They're slaved to it, Rory obviously designed the procedure to only need one person running it. They're all up and running." And I'll make sure they do what they're supposed to, he thought, loud enough for Jean to hear. That was his role here. Jean might not be able to read Essex's mind, but Forge could read the machines, which was the next best thing.
There wasn't any outward sign, but the mental nod to Forge said as much as a physical one would have. "The computer has all the information for you - we didn't have time to make hard copies."
Essex bent over the console, deftly operating the controls as he familiarized himself with the configuration. "Rory. Clever boy." He said softly, almost under his breath as his hands moved over the console. Finally he straightened up and withdrew a pair of glasses from his coat pocket and put them on. "Yes, sadly, it has come to this."
Essex made a few adjustments, and information began to scroll down the screen. Ahab's genetic mapping scanner was on the crude side, but effective enough. The readings and numbers flicking by would seem meaningless mathematical gibberish to most people, but to Essex's mind, it was like the summary of a mystery plot, detailing every clue and history of what had happened.
"You were right to contact me, Mister Forge. These children are dying."
Essex's detachment in the face of the situation turned Forge's stomach. He recalled what the older scientist had told him, when they'd been thrown into cooperation for the Xorn situation; "I believe your instinctive reactions are compromising your ability to consider this dispassionately".
If detachment was what it was going to take to save Marius, Jennie, and Kyle - then so be it, Forge thought. He simply nodded to Essex and turned his attention to the machines as they began their processes. Right now it didn't matter that those were his friends on the operating tables. He had to look at the situation as only the data, only the facts before him. Let Jean concern herself with how his friends - the patients - were faring.
"Machines are running at full efficiency," he droned quietly, closing his eyes and methodically turning his attention from one to the other as easily as he would look around a room.
Jean's eyes narrowed slightly at Essex's pronouncement. It wasn't news - she and Moira had come to the conclusion that they couldn't do anything for the children a while ago. Which was why Essex had been called in the first place. In a corner of her mind she felt Forge's attention focus more tightly onto the machines, the mechanical flavor of his thoughts increasing exponentially, but Jean didn't take her eyes off of their only hope.
"They are, doctor," she agreed, voice level. "But can you help them?"
Essex was silent for a long moment, diverting his attentions between the teens on the slabs and the console in front of him. "Yes." He said finally, straightening from the display. "Campbell always was more of a lab technician than a geneticist."
He took a step back and walked the perimeter of the machine, in silence and simply looking at it before he came back to the console. From his pocket he pulled out a slim PDA, making them wait without explanation as he worked through some figures. "Doctor Grey, assuming Charles hasn't changed his procedure since I left, I will need the genetic maps from the DNA samples of these children. The most recent for preference, but any within the last three years will be sufficient."
"Already loaded into the system," Forge said tonelessly, reaching out to adjust a dial. "Doctor Campbell took a base scan before the procedure, it seems. I'm labeling them Hades, Tyche, and Enkidu. Transferring them into the mainframe... now."
Slowly, the purpose of the machines was coming together in Forge's mind. The original genetic maps of Marius, Jennie, and Kyle would be compared to the current ones, and the procedure used to graft specific traits onto their DNA could be reversed, using the default template as a guide.
The procedure would be like stripping away layers of paint from a masterpiece to restore it to its original condition - without ruining the painting itself.
Jean's eyes shifted back to the standard bio-monitors as Dr. Essex looked over the kids' genetic templates, reassuring herself that they were still stable, at least for the moment. She cycled through the readouts, then flicked her gaze back to Essex as he looked up from the screens. "Will you need assistance?" She paused, mind flicking back to their time at Johns Hopkins before adding, "Can I help?"
"Yes. Once we've arrested the macro-cellular degeneration, and begun to re-integrate the base DNA, all of them are going to be at extreme risk of systemic and virulent rejection. Mister Forge, if you can patch the following over to Doctor Grey." Essex took a zip drive from his pocket and slipped it into the USB port in the console. "You will start getting biometric spikes in random, disassociated areas. Ignore them. What you're looking for is a pattern; it will precede simultaneous incidences in genetic failure. Before that happens, you need to suppress their systems completely. Too soon and they will go into comas immediately. Too late and they'll be dead before we can reach the operating table."
Essex tapped another few buttons, his concentration and focus deep. "I dearly miss Miss Pryde at this moment."
Forge's head snapped up. "Miss Pryde would be a gibbering wreck at this point looking at her friends like this," he replied harshly, "Don't wish for amateur hour when you've got the maestro warming up in the wings. Information is patched, sequencers up... now."
Jean had serious issue with the uses Essex had put Kitty to in her time, and she had to wonder just how closely they had been working together, for the man to want the girl's help now - the medical files and staff reports clearly hadn't covered everything. "I may not have had the specific training you gave Kitty last time, Nathaniel," Jean said, voice cold, momentarily forgetting that Forge might not have been privileged to that information, "but I trust my actual medical degree will stand me in good stead. Could we possibly focus?"
"Sadly, it was not medical skills that Miss Pryde provided so effectively, but a clear headed and incisive technical mastery, without personal arrogance." Essex's voice was clear and casual, even though his attention never wavered from his monitor. Under his fingers, the hopelessly complex genetic wave was slowly building, like a master weaver shuttling together the world's most intertwined loom. "Do be careful not to disrespect her in my presence, Mister Forge. My patience on that matter is surprisingly limited, all things considered."
The room descended into a chilly silence as he worked, ignoring everything but the information at his fingertips. Rory's machine was crude, meant to brute-force the procedure, and leaving Essex to work without the automated precision he would have demanded. Minutes stretched into an hour and past. Finally, the silent doctor paused and stepped back from the console. "That should be the final touch. Dr. Grey, we are going to begin the re-imprinting process. In a sense, we're going to use the method Campbell stole to re-imprint the three children, but with their own DNA as opposed to this rather macabre genetic cocktail that Rory used. That will reverse the physiological changes to the three. This is the point of greatest danger of rejection as well. Once complete, and Mister Forge takes his leave of us, we will use the final part of the process to fix the imprint to their genetic map, making it permanent."
"Except for the part where Mister Forge isn't leaving," Forge corrected "I'm here until these machines are shut down, my friends are stable, and then the equipment's destroyed. I'll put up with the disrespect of my capabilities in comparison to your ex-protégé, but I'm not allowing you, this equipment, and my friends in the same room without watching like a hawk. I asked for your help to save my friends' lives, Doctor, not to grandstand like some snake-oil-selling charlatan. Finish the procedure."
Jean nodded. "Agreed, Doctor Essex. You knew both medical and technological oversight was to be expected in this matter."
"I'm afraid not. The process used to affix the genetic mapping is potentially an extremely powerful weapon, and the property of the United States military. To allow Mister Forge to operate the machinery with his powers would, in essence, be providing the technology to him. Since he does not have the military clearance to possess this technology, we would both be committing a federal crime punishable by life imprisonment. It would be irresponsible and unethical to place this technology into the hands of someone as young as Mister Forge, especially without the acquiescence of the United States Army."
Essex slipped his hands into his pockets. "Or, if I am truly the villain that you have ascribed me as during your arrogance and insults, I gain absolutely no benefit in the survival of these children, especially while you gain access to technology of immense value. Whichever may motive you choose to believe is in your hands, but the fact remains that in the next minute, either Mister Forge walks through that door or I do." He pulled the cellphone from his pocket and flipped it open. "The decision is entirely up to you."
Forge clenched his hands in anger. The choice was clear - stand up to Essex and risk the lives of the patients - his friends, or...
Detachment, he thought to himself.
"Doctor Grey, Doctor Essex," Forge said quietly, "I'll leave you to finish the procedure."
He walked away from the operating table, pausing to touch Jean on the arm. If anything goes wrong, if this doesn't work, his mutant null power isn't going to save him from what I am going to do, he thought as strongly as he could before walking out of the operating room.
Jean watched Forge leave, considering, not for the first time, just how much anger the young man was capable of. Not that she hadn't also worked out half a dozen things she could do to Essex without his ability interrupting her powers before he even left the room should something happen. Face perfectly composed, Jean turned back to Doctor Essex. "Very well then," she said, "shall we begin?"
Essex bent over the console. He removed a second flash drive from his pocket and slipped it into the slot, silent for nearly ten minutes as he realigned the machine's configuration. His only words were halfway through, doublechecking the biometric readings of the students from Jean. Finally, he touched a button and the machine came to life.
"It should take another ten minutes or so for the overlap to fix itself to the genetic structure as the base DNA. There will be some side effects as their bodies adapt to being their bodies again. Five days from now, you will need to run a full genetic profile to confirm the process. It would be best to consult with me on the results, but that is your choice." He slipped the drive back into his pocket as soon as the process ended, removing any hint of what his solution was. "Do tell Charles the next time he needs a housecall, a more sedate driver would be appreciated."
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 05:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-13 07:56 pm (UTC)But ooh, I should add, Essex being snide about someone else's personality flaws? Especially arrogance? Great touch of absurd-comedy there. Hee. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 09:00 pm (UTC)As for a DNA surprise, the graphing is pretty sophistocated, so any real abnormalities would be pretty easy for Jean or Moira to pick up. Also, considering he has no real motive to and has expressed very strong ethical opinions about children before makes it unlikely that he'd do something harmful to them.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:15 pm (UTC)Mechanism isn't the issue. The point is that if we've got Essex and an exotic procedure he won't share the details of, we don't even have to assume malice to expect trouble. He could just screw up.
Also, considering he has no real motive to and has expressed very strong ethical opinions about children before makes it unlikely that he'd do something harmful to them.
Oh, I'd expect his motive to be obscure. Anyway, it's Essex. I figure if he makes a claim to ethics he's probably just yanking someone's chain. ;)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:17 pm (UTC)