ArchivedLogs:Pessimism

Pessimism
Dramatis Personae Bruce, Rasheed
In Absentia	2015-12-14 "I like being right, but I also like to be prepared." (Part of Flu Season TP.)
Location <NYC> Bruce's Lab - Stark Tower - Midtown East
This capacious room contains gleaming expanses of lab bench framed with a backdrop of work stations, fume hoods, spectrometers, centrifuges, and other, more arcane research equipment. Also, an extremely advanced coffee machine that the unobservant might easily mistake for research equipment. Holographic interfaces hover over some of the computer terminals, displaying charts and spreadsheets and diagrams. A reinforced isolation chamber occupies one corner, its softly lit interior--visible through a window that stretches across one entire wall--contains folding cot. Given recent events, it may surprise some that Bruce's lab only looks a /little/ untidy. The genteel disorder manifests as chairs not fully pushed against tables, stray coffee mugs left on countertops, a pair of cracked and crooked glasses sitting at a workstation. Today, a brown paper bag and the smell of savory pho bespeak a working lunch. Bruce himself sits at a terminal before a semicircular bank of holographic displays monitoring patient statics, tracking lab tests results, and so long. His dark purple shirt and brown corduroy pants look casual and comfortable under a rumpled white labcoat. He digs the knuckles of index and middle fingers into his right temple, and thick black glasses (unbroken ones) dangle from his other hand. A mug of coffee cools on the counter nearby. A quiet computerized voice announces Rasheed shortly before the man himself arrives, doors whooshing open to admit the doctor into the lab. He is rumpled, wrinkled dress shirt and slacks hanging loose on his slouched frame. There's a tablet tucked under his arm, a deep frown etched into his brow. He makes his way towards Bruce's terminal, snagging a chair as he goes to pull it up near the other man and settle himself in. "I have a patient." "Good day, Doctor." Bruce does not rise to greet Rasheed, but does offer him a weary smile. He slips his glasses back on and frowns at the statment. "You have several." He indicates the holodisplay in front of him. "But if a particular one is worthy of note..." The frown deepens with worry. "Yet another resistant strain? Novel form of transmission? Am I being too pessimistic? I've gotten the impression that's the way epidemiology works." Rasheed taps at his tablet, opening up a number of brain scans scrubbed thoroughly clean of any identifying personal information. "A patient. Awakened several days ago displaying severe aggression and hunger -- tested positive for the resistant strain. Despite," he says tone mild though his frown is only deepening, "having been comatose since prior to the beginning of the outbreak." His bony fingers lift, pressing against the side of his temple. "Some pessimism may be warranted." Bruce adjusts his glasses and leans toward the tablet slightly. "Before the most recent outbreak, or before the first one?" Even as he speaks, his hands begin typing at a keyboard, bringing up reference scans of a patient infected with the resistant strain--though also sans identifying information, Rasheed would certainly recognize them as Matt's. "Especially given the chaos of the first outbreak, it isn't inconceivable this strain did exist then, if in small numbers, and simply went unnoticed. The cause of the patient's coma may have have also prevented illness from progressing at the normal pace? Anecdotes of people being 'cured' by traumatic brain injury abound, but..." He shakes his head. "Reaching too far. Parsimony says they were infected recently. Are you sure they were in a /true/ coma?" "Before this outbreak. I did compare their scans before, though." Rasheed swipes at his tablet, brings up, for contrast, different scans: "-- from when they were admitted. There's no indication --" His head shakes. "At the moment I'm not sure of anything. But it seems most likely they were infected -- while unconscious." His fingers are rubbing at his temple again. "It's a coma I have seen before. Telepathic assault. I've had many similar patients. The spontaneous recovery is unusual. I'm unsure whether the illness helped with that." Bruce studies the side-by-side scans, nodding slowly. "Mm. Implications unpleasant." His frown deepens further, and he sits back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling. "/Telepathic/ assault? Is it possible...well, I really don't know enough about telepathy in general to speculate, but might a telepath have infected them? If there was even a shred of consciousness, buried deep down, then a psionic dialogue might have taken place." Cants his head, considering. "It'd have to have happened while they were in the hospital, of course, but /that/ certainly would not have in itself prevented telepathic contact." "I looked over their records and talked with their team -- there was, at least, no sign of change at any point prior to awakening. And they don't have any memory of --" Rasheed shakes his head. "I do hope you're right, though. But there is a serious possibility that they have been infected through /unilateral/ telepathic contact. The implications of unilateral psionic transmission -- of unilateral transmission at all." He drops his hand to his lap. A tightness has curled through his jaw. Bruce swivels his chair to face Rasheed more fully as he explains. His brows lift higher. "Unilateral transmission," he echoes, as if trying the phrase on for size. "If it really can somehow transmit uniliterally, we'd be lucky if it required telepathy." Tugging off his glasses, he rubs at the ridge of his nose. "If it can transmit through one-way spoken or written communication, /in the age of mass media?/ We'd be looking at a pandemic." He sucks in a deep breath and lets it back out. "So yeah, let's hope I'm right, alert the rest of the team, and try to track down someone who can perform a...forensic psionic examination? If the patient consents to such an examination, anyhow." He pauses, puts his glasses back on. "I like being right, but I also like to be prepared."