xp_logs | Moira and Remy

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After Remy gets Moira's number, he gives her a call at Muir and relays the situation. Moira shows how much of a paranoid she can be and manages to get the information that Remy needed. It's not good news.

Remy scribbled down the number Alison provided, and thumbed it quickly into the cell phone. If MacTaggert wasn't available, there wasn't anything he could do. Even the lead was thin; a credit card that Cardin could have just as easily stolen at random. But Remy knew about playing hunches, and there was something about the name that twigged him. Now he needed someone from the science community, who knew the people and the ways in and out. Now all he needed was her to pick up the damn phone.

With a sigh, Moira lunged for the phone, papers sliding off the desk and onto the phone.

"MacTaggart," she barked, trying to clean up the mess. This had better be damned important, she thought, irritated. She had a new staff meeting in twenty minutes on top of needing to see a few patients, all before she could actually sit down and eat. "Ye've reached Muir, can I 'elp ye?"

"Moira. It's Remy." There was a long pause. "LeBeau." He said finally, lamely. He had only spoken to her in passing, in his checkups at the med lab. She was married to Nathan, who had no doubt filled her into his rather infamous past. "Got a... situation down in New Orleans. Need your help."

"Remy?" Well, that was unexpected and it made her sit up and pay attention. They'd rarely spoken, even in the MedLab, and for him to be placing a call…wait, hadn't he been on a trip with Amanda and Marie-Ange? "Wha's wron'? Are Amanda an' Angie alright?" Moira figured they were—why call her if something happened to them when the Mansion was closer—but she had to make certain.

"Dey fine. Just run into a bit of a situation and I need some information." Remy jiggled the papers and came up with the name. "Got de name of a doctor I need you to run. Tell me who he is, if you can. Dr Fuller."

"Th' name's familiar," Moira said, pinching the bridge of her nose in concentration. "Give me a minute, it'll come ta me…do ye 'ave any other information than th' name?" Reaching over, she typed in a quick password to bring up a locked file on her computer. Rows of contact information flashed up on the screen along with a few other files and she started to scroll through them, looking for one folder in particular.

"He's from Atlanta, so maybe de CDC?" Remy said, turning over the information he'd uncovered. "Something to do with biowarfare, like an infectious agent. Mind control. Something with PSIons, Remy guess."

"CDC..." There it was. "Right, because o' who I work wit', I'm a paranoid at times. Anythin' odd 'appenin' in th' scientific world, I keep a record o'. Includin' deat's. Fuller died in a car accident a while back. Drunk drivin' but...I dinnae know, somethin' dinnae feel right an' I kept tabs on it. Is tha' good or bad news tha' 'e's dead?"

"Not sure yet." Remy rubbed his upper lip, gloves rasping the stubble. "Can you find out what dat he was working on? Remy got a bit of a situation down here."

"'ang on a second." Swiveling around to fully face her computer, Moira brought up a few more folders. "From wha' I remember o' this guy, 'is work was kind o'...nay "not talked about" but underplayed. I'm nay sure...wait. 'is name's cross referenced wit' Dr. Mackenzie Ross. While I pull up information on 'im, does _tha'_ name ring any particular bells from yer situation down there?"

"Non. Merde." Remy swore. Maybe this was going to turn into a dead link after all. "Got strange things turning up, Moira. People acting like flocks, or a hive; all together. Thought dat it was a telepath, like de Professor in charge, but dat lead went dead." Remy stopped and dug for the medical report. "All of de victims suffer from subretinal bleeding, and a coarsing of de skin of de face and neck. Dat help?"

"...aye, I think it might. Shit." Reading quickly, Moira tried to absorb all the information. She'd pulled this a while ago, simply had been curious about it, but never got around to read it. "Listen, this goes back a ways. An' I'm startin' ta remember some stuff tha' 'appened a while ago. Ross took over a project in the CDC tha' 'ad been brought over by a Russian defector, worked wit' a guy named Mishka Konivoyla, on a substance called CR14." There was a pause. "Th' Tunguska River basin, meteorite....this CR14 was found in tha' area, 'tis nay anythin' found on eart'."

"Dat right?" The science was way over Remy's head, and he limited himself to making helpful noises as she idled around the point. He's been around enough scientists to know how they operated.

"Oh. Oh. Remy, ye said 'tis actin' like a 'ive mind, aye?" At his confirmation, she leaned back and closed her eyes. "Oh my God, whoever's doin' this _has_ th' CR14. For years, it really dinnae do much o' anythin', except tha' it operated reactively t' th' base sample, meaning tha' nay matter wha' their atomic matrix remained synched." There was a strangled noise from the other end of the phone and Moira sighed. "Meanin' tha' Fuller used this CR14 ta develop somethin' tha' could control minds, make it a 'ive mind. Obviously from th' sounds o' it, th' victims are bein' overloaded..."

"So, dat would explain dem moving and speaking in synch?" Remy said quietly, suddenly realising exactly how much shit he was likely in.

"Aye, because there's a central source 'tis runnin' through. A "queen" if ye will. Remy, 'ow many victims 'ave ye stumbled across so far?"

"Only a couple, but dere might be over two dozen." Remy sighed. "So how do we stop it?"

"'onestly? Only one way. Right now, whoever's got th' CR14, or whatever th' 'ell 'tis now, is probably actin' as th' queen." Rubbing her face, Moira thought about the implications for a second. "If there's as many as ye say, then tha's got ta be a strain on the 'queen'. I'm assumin' this is like any power an' there's a limit ta 'ow much someone can endure. But this could easily spread. Pretty much, find th' person behind this an' take them out, destroying th' connection between th' queen an' th' 'ive. I...dinnae know if yer goin' ta be able ta save th' ones tha' are already infected."

"Great. So, if I can find dis Queen, it can be stopped. What if it get applied to a crowd. How do we stop it den?"

"...'ope it doesnae? If ye get set on by a large crowd, I think yer only choice is ta get clear o' it as soon as ye can. Once th' victim is affected, I dinnae think there's much ye can do. Ye 'ave ta take out the central core or it'll keep goin'."

"Dat almost exactly what Remy expected to hear." LeBeau did his best to avoid slamming his head into the wall next to him. "Bein. Dat's what I needed to know, Moira. Merci."

"Glad I was able ta 'elp. Ye be careful over there, alright? This doesnae sound like 'tis goin' ta be easy." Moira knew they could all take care of themselves--especially Remy--but she was still worried.

"Dat's what Remy is best at." He lied easily, waiting until after he'd thumbed off the phone to start cursing.