“THIS IS HOW the virus works,” Dr. Crusher said to the assembled senior officers of the Enterprise and the Constitution. The meeting room fell silent.
“The virus begins life as three different prions.” A computer simulation showed the three different microorganisms. “Separately these prions are harmless. But when they meet up—in the air or in a human body—they join together to form a more complex organism … a multiprion.”
The holographic projection showed all three prions integrating themselves into one larger cell.
“Their protein strands hook together, and a new multiprion is born. Its first task is to rewrite its own RNA. In effect, it turns itself into a virus cell. Now, imagine it happening with thousands of prions at once and you’ll see how quickly people can become infected.”
Captain Picard stepped forward. “Thanks to Dr. Spencer, Dr. Tang, and Dr. Crusher, we now have a cure—a fourth prion, one we designed ourselves. We have already begun seeding Archaria III’s atmosphere with it. This fourth prion hunts for the other three, attaches itself to them, and disables the multiprion genetic codes. In short, they are turned back into harmless prions once more.”
“Sir, who is responsible?” Geordi La Forge asked.
“Good question.” Picard cleared his throat. “Officially, Starfleet and the planetary governor are assigning blame to the Purity League. That organization has been officially outlawed and disbanded, so some good has come out of this disaster.”
“And unofficially?” Worf asked.
Van Osterlich rose. “Unofficially … we don’t know. The one suspect we have is dead, and he doesn’t seem to exist in any official Starfleet databases. His identity cards are fake. His starship’s registration is fake. Nothing aboard his ship has a serial number or identification mark of any kind. He is simply a blank—officially, he doesn’t exist. Whether he worked for himself or someone else is still open to conjecture. However, I think it’s safe to say that this is the work of some outside party with significant resources … an organization that took advantage of the Purity League’s racist attitudes to test a new type of weapon.”
“The big question is motive,” Captain Picard said. He looked from face to face, and his expression grew even more serious. “It can’t be racial purity. It can’t be the Purity Leage. In fact, Starfleet has only been able to come up with one possible motive…. Practice.”
* * *
In sickbay, William Riker lay on a biobed next to Deanna Troi, resting and listening to the almost jubilant hubbub around them. They have their cure. Everything is going to work out. He smiled.
“A penny for your thoughts,” Deanna said.
He turned his head to face her. “You look terrible,” he said. It was the first thing that popped into his mind. The white blisters that had covered her face were gone, but she still had a deathly white pallor.
“So do you, Bill. I’m just happy to be alive.”
He chuckled. “You know I go by ‘Will’ these days, don’t you.”
“Yes … I wondered if you were going to tell me. Don’t you feel comfortable enough with me to just talk anymore?”
He reached out his hand and took hers, then gave it a soft squeeze. “Of course I do, Deanna. Let down your guard. Listen to my emotions. You know how I truly feel.”
She smiled. “You’re naughty!”