Jason was not a man of indecision. The moment he received the news, he ordered an emergency landing.
Although there were unresolved safety concerns regarding the landing procedure and the threat of an unknown pathogen below, he remained unwavering. These people had to be saved. No arguments, no excuses.
Before their departure, the expedition team had established a rigorous set of biochemical control protocols, yet they had still fallen victim to the planet.
Perhaps the excitement of discovering the uranium mine had caused a lapse in judgment. Perhaps the virus had leaked during sample transport. Or perhaps their decontamination measures were simply ineffective against alien biology. regardless, Jason had no interest in assigning blame right now.
His only goal was to rescue the five hundred souls on the surface. Over three hundred were in coma state, and the remaining hundred-plus survivors were exhausted, starving, and terrified as they cared for the sick. They wouldn't last much longer.
An emergency meeting was immediately convened, assembling every available biologist and physician on the ship.
Jason stood at the head of the table, his expression grim. "Everyone, our expedition team on Mars has been attacked by an unknown pathogen. A total of 322 comrades are in coma. You know the situation: high contagion rate, likely airborne, and transmissible via skin contact. Only full EVA suits offer protection."
"Dr. Roman's research data has been transmitted. We have six hours until the Noah touches down. I need you to use this time to find a solution."
"I know working from images and remote telemetry is far from ideal, but we have no choice. We absolutely cannot abandon them."
Jason gritted his teeth and slammed his fist onto the table to emphasize the point.
Among the many experts present, the most renowned was Professor Nakamura, a virologist who had cut his teeth on the front lines of the 2002 SARS outbreak. He was seasoned, brilliant, and deeply respected.
Professor Nakamura stood up and bowed respectfully to Jason. "Mr. Jason, we will do our utmost to save our compatriots. However, I must be honest. Relying solely on images and data streams... we are effectively blind. We cannot synthesize a cure or understand the vector without physical samples. Why not send a shuttle to retrieve samples immediately?"
"Yes," another scientist echoed. "How can we conduct research without the actual virus? It's impossible."
Extraterrestrial microorganisms could differ vastly from terrestrial life. Deducing their weakness from a photograph was like trying to taste a meal by looking at a menu.
Jason frowned, though the expression vanished quickly. He spread his hands, his voice tinged with helplessness. "It's not that I won't let you go, Professor. It's that... we don't have any aircraft. Our only dropship, the Victory, is parked on the surface. We can't get down there until the Noah lands."
It was a stark reminder of their civilization's fragility. They didn't even have a backup shuttle. Jason mentally sighed; their development time had been too short. A few months wasn't enough to build a fleet.
"What I am saying is this: there are five hundred lives down there, soldiers, engineers, scientists. We cannot afford this loss. I am begging you. Find a way. Do whatever is necessary to be ready the moment we open the airlocks."
...
Biology Laboratory, The Noah
Time ticked by agonizingly slowly. Several hours passed, yet the team remained at a loss.
"No! We can't analyze anything from this garbage!" Nakamura roared in frustration, tearing at his hair. "If we zoom in on the cellular structure, it's just blurry pixels! Damn it!"
Behind him, his assistants looked equally despondent. Scientists are men of logic, not gods; they couldn't conjure data from thin air.
Nakamura slumped into his chair, defeated.
"We can only rely on reasonable conjecture..."
"Yes, that's the only option left."
The group of helpless biologists sat in a circle, brainstorming desperate theories.
"Let me open the floor," one scientist began. "Since Dr. Roman successfully isolated DNA, RNA, and proteins before he collapsed, we can assume these microorganisms are carbon-based. If they are carbon-based, they fall within the realm of our understanding."
"Agreed," another joined in. "These microorganisms shouldn't be bacteria, otherwise, they would be visible under a standard optical microscope. They must be viral in nature, extremely small. We'll need the scanning tunneling microscope to see them."
"They adhered to the uranium ore," a geologist added, frowning. "They were exposed to the open air and high radiation. I suspect there are colonies of these lifeforms beneath the mining site. We need to collect deep-soil samples."
"This unknown virus is alien and deadly to Earth organisms," a pale scientist behind Nakamura noted. "But conversely, they aren't necessarily evolutionarily 'superior' to us. Our ecosystem isn't fragile. Some of our own bacteriophages or viruses might be deadly to them, too."
"True. Alien doesn't mean invincible; it just means unfamiliar."
"The human immune system is fighting back, evidenced by the white blood cell count, but the patients are deteriorating," the scientist sighed. "And the contagion rate is terrifying. Airborne transmission means even a micro-breach is fatal."
"We can't conduct delicate experiments in clumsy EVA suits," someone pointed out. "And since standard disinfectants failed, wearing standard Hazmat gear is a death sentence."
The room fell silent.
The implication was clear. To study the virus, someone had to handle it. To handle it effectively, they needed dexterity that EVA suits didn't provide. The risk of infection in the lab was catastrophic.
Who would go? Who would be the sacrifice?
A deathly silence hung over the room.
Suddenly, Nakamura slammed his fist on the metal table, the sound ringing like a gunshot.
"No! Those are 322 lives! I, Nakamura, will not give up!"
He stood up, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. "I will be the first to enter the isolation lab. I will not run away again. Absolutely not! I am submitting my application now... I will be Patient Zero if I have to."
As he spoke, tears welled in Nakamura's eyes.
He was remembering the past. His wife, Shimako. She had been a brilliant, lovely woman, a doctor he had met during his residency.
Shimako had lost her life in 2002, fighting the SARS virus on the front lines.
She had been in the wards, saving lives. Nakamura, fresh out of his doctoral program, had been hesitant. Wavering. He had been afraid, afraid of losing his own life.
He hadn't stood on the front line with her. Instead, he had stayed in the rear, safely sequencing the virus from a distance. While his work was important, the choice had become a knot in his heart that never unraveled. If he hadn't been a coward then, maybe he could have saved her.
I switched from general biology to virology for this very moment. I will not evade my duty again. Shimako... this time, I will save them. I will.
Nakamura clenched his fist, his resolve hardening into steel.
He picked up the comms unit. "Captain Jason, this is Professor Nakamura. I am requesting authorization for Class-A bio-hazard equipment and priority access to the supercomputer. Furthermore, I am requesting that the laboratory sector be placed under Level 5 isolation protocols. I'm going in."
As the minutes ticked away, the massive spherical silhouette of the Noah descended through the thin atmosphere, inch by inch.