Chapter Text
The sun was making a rare appearance on the coast of Maine, not blocked by any of the clouds for once. The ocean sparkled with its light as it lapped against the shore and rocks beneath the cliff over looking it. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave Phil Corvin a perfect view of this, and he couldn't help but think a walk along the shore would be great right about now. Business before pleasure however, he couldn't leave this meeting. Joke was on him though, he never had time to go outside anymore unless it was for business reasons.
He turned his attention back to the large conference table he was sitting at. It filled the center of the room nicely, leaving plenty of breathing room on the sides. Though, it was perhaps a bit overkill for a meeting with only three people. Still, this was where business meetings at the Quest Compound took place, so here is where the trio were. Or rather, would be, they were still waiting for the final member.
Phil glanced at the tall, ginger-haired man sitting at the head of the table. If he was concerned, he didn't show it. Perhaps Corvin should have been a little stiff, in a meeting with the world-renowned scientist Dr. Benton Quest - a man whose very presence commanded respect - but he was actually more relaxed than he had been in quite a few meetings. Dr. Quest, despite his position, was still a friend.
The corner of Phil's mouth quirked up in a grin as he said, "My money's on Jessie."
Dr. Quest quirked a brow at that. After a moment of thought he replied, "Jonny."
Race Bannon was a good agent, it wasn't like him to be late. He was also a father however, both to his daughter, Jessie, and Dr. Quest's sons, Jonny and Hadji. If he was late, then odds were one of the kids had delayed him. The door opened and a few moments later Race stumbled in, catching himself on the door frame.
Before either man could ask if he was alright, the reason he'd tripped made itself known as yapping filled the room. Race shook his head, looking down, "Bandit, out."
The miniature bulldog yapped in defiance to the order. Phil couldn't help but chuckle as he watched Bandit continue to bark up at the tall, white-haired man that could have easily punted him across the room if he'd had a crueler nature.
"Out." This time Race's order was accompanied by a gentle nudge towards the door. Bandit probably still wouldn't have listened but a younger voice from down the hall called his name and he bolted towards it. Race sighed, shaking his head as he shut the door.
"Run into traffic on the way, Race?" Dr. Quest asked, amused grin not hid in the slightest by his beard.
"That son of yours," Race muttered, the hint of an amused grin betraying his words.
"Darn," Corvin muttered quietly, ignoring the brief look of triumph that crossed Quest's face.
Race grabbed the back of a chair with a little more force than necessary. Phil looked up at him as he shook his head slightly before sitting down. Was he upset about something? Unlikely, Bannon was one of the most laid back guys he knew. Though... it was possible this meeting was interrupting some plan he'd had with the kids and interrupting family time was one of the things that did irritate him. It wouldn't be the first time Phil had been guilty of that. Unfortunately, it also wasn't going to be the last.
"Must be an important case if you came to brief us in person," Race commented.
"What? Wouldn't believe I just fancied paying the Quest Team a visit?" Corvin replied.
"Have time to get away from the office and you visit us instead of your wife? I wonder what Emma would think about that," Race grinned in response. Well, if he was in a joking mood then he certainly wasn't as upset and Phil originally thought.
"She would murder me." They both laughed at that for a moment before his grin faded. "You're right Race, this is pretty big." Cobalt blue eyes lowered to his tablet as he pulled up the image. He turned the tablet towards his companions, "Recognize these two?"
In the photo were two young women - couldn't have been older than twenty - with shoulder length black hair. They might have looked like clones if one wasn't an inch taller than the other. It was too easy to see their father in their glittering green eyes.
"Doctor Zin's daughters," Quest frowned. The way he and Race tensed told Phil all he needed to know. They didn't just know who the girls were, they'd run into them a time or two.
"Weren't they taken into custody when Mr. Henry ratted them out?" Race asked.
"Yes. However, Zin had his fingers in a lot of pies. It was only a matter of time before they got out," Corvin explained. "Now it appears they've finally resurrected his operations... and maybe plan to go farther than that."
"What do you mean?" Dr. Quest asked.
"Have you ever heard of the Teonuhe Civilization?" He turned his tablet back towards himself to pull up the next picture as Race leaned back in his chair in thought. Something was nagging at the back of Phil's mind, telling him something wasn't right. He didn't have time to think about it though as he struggled to pull up the picture. Experienced as he was using tablets; they were still finicky. And everyone wondered why he preferred 'old fashioned' methods.
"The Teonuhe are a recently discovered ancient civilization found in parts of East Asia. So far archaeologists haven't discovered much about how they lived, or even how they died," Dr. Quest replied after a moment. Given how the man was a leading scientist in many fields and had interests in many more - including archaeology - Phil wasn't surprised he'd known.
"A new temple, the Temple of Tuwo, was discovered a few weeks ago." Once again the tablet was turned towards them. The image was of an ancient stone staircase leading into a tunnel at the base of a mountain that had been hidden from the world for centuries. The mark of a Teonuhen temple. "An archaeologist team was studying the temple. So far they've had nothing to report but strange occurrences..." He trailed off as the warning bell was finally acknowledged and he realized Race's eyes seemed to be blankly staring past him at the wall of windows.
Now, another agent and he might not have been concerned. After all, the current topic was clearly not his forte. Another agent and it could have been that the man was just bored and decided to enjoy the view until his superiors got back to a subject that was in his element. This was Race however, he didn't just tune out of conversations like that. Especially not a conversation with friends.
"Are you alright, Race?" Phil asked.
"Hm?" He shook his head slightly before his ice blue eyes moved away from the window and focused on Corvin. "I'm fine, just a bit tired."
Dr. Quest gave him the same unconvinced look that was on Phil's face. Race had a bad habit of saying he was fine when he wasn't. It was just something he did either because of his stubborn pride or because he didn't want to worry anyone. Knowing him like he did, Phil figured it was because of both reasons.
"I'm guessin' you suspect the Zin's had something to do with it?" And now Race was trying to dodge further questions. It was probably just a cold then, he never lied about being fine when it was something serious.
Phil allowed the change in subject, replying, "Yes. They were spotted in the area not long after the reports started coming in. Statues within the temple are supposedly coming to life and have even attacked members of the team. I've been told there is a myth about such a thing so it is possible they aren't involved, but it still sounds rather suspicious to me.
"Has anyone been hurt?" Dr. Quest asked.
Corvin shook his head, "No, but the entire team's been frightened off, save for the head archaeologist." He couldn't help the slight grin that came to his face as he thought of her, "She's a rather determined woman - and someone you know well, Race."
Despite the very obvious hint that his ex-wife, Estella Velasquez, was the head archaeologist, Race didn't react. He just sat there; eyes half-shut as he stared off into space. Was he falling asleep?
"Are you sure you're alright, Race?" Dr. Quest asked.
"Huh?" Race shook his head, sluggishly swiveling his chair towards him. "'M fine. I'm... I... oohh..." moaning, he doubled over in his chair before falling out entirely. The only thing that saved him from cracking his skull on the edge of the table was the fact he'd turned his chair.
"Race!" Both men shot to their feet. Dr. Quest knelt by Race's side as Phil came around the table. Together they carefully rolled him onto his back.
Corvin reached for his phone only to mutter a curse when he found it absent from his pocket. He must have forgotten it in the car, dammit. Quest was a step ahead, phone in hand as he called 911. It may turn out to be unnecessary to call an ambulance, but it was far better to be safe rather than sorry.
"Race? Race can you hear me?" Phil kept trying to get a response as Quest spoke to the dispatcher. "Race? Come on Bannon, answer me." His tone had shifted from concerned to commanding in the hopes it would get some response - it didn't.
"Roger, answer me." Not even the rarely used first name got a response. He ran through a mental checklist as he continued to try. Pulse? Shallow but there. Noticing his skin was warm, Phil pressed a hand to Race's forehead. He was burning up. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn, Race?" he sighed.
With silence as his answer, he continued running through the checklist. Breathing? Rapid and shallow. He undid the first few buttons of Race's shirt, hoping it'd make breathing a little easier. The red fabric moved aside just enough for something to catch his attention. Frowning, Corvin undid a few more buttons, exposing more of Race's chest.
"Doctor," Phil looked up to make sure he had Quest's attention as he motioned to the splotchy blue rash he'd discovered.
Dr. Quest's azure eyes widened as he lowered the phone slightly. "Son of a bi-"
"Tch, you gotta do better than that Jess!" Jonny scoffed as he swerved around the fallen branch that had been tossed into his path.
"You still haven't caught up yet, Hotshot," Jessie laughed as she turned a corner in the path, disappearing from sight.
Jonny narrowed his eyes, studying the forest around him. The trees didn't allow for many shortcuts, especially on hover board. The course had been specifically designed to prevent there being too many shortcuts. Spotting a dark opening his azure eyes lit up. That didn't mean there weren't a few secrets however.
Angling his board and ducking, Jonny shot between two tree trunks. It was a narrow tunnel but plenty of space to make it through safely. Not that it'd matter if he crashed, it wasn't like he could be hurt in QuestWorld. Granted, he would have still done it even if it was in the real world.
Which was why hover board races were now confined to the safety of the VR world.
At least with a complete rebuild enhancing system performance and graphics - now it almost looked like the real world as opposed to the claymation like graphics it had before - as well as removing any nasty surprises that might have been left by the late Dr. Surd, QuestWorld was better and safer than ever now.
Jonny shot out of the tunnel of trees, just barely cutting in front of Jessie. He hardly heard her cry of "No fair!" over his laughter.
The finish line was in sight now, a pond glistening in the afternoon sunlight. Whoever reached there first did run the risk of 'accidentally' being knocked in, but it'd be worth it to have a week off from chores. Jonny was already planning how he'd use all the free time that'd be opened up.
Maybe he could convinced Race to let him work on his marksmanship. After all he was getting older now and it wasn't entirely uncommon for him to be in a position to use a pistol or rifle - gotta love that Quest Team 'luck'. He knew even now it was likely to be a solid 'no', but if he had just the right argument...
A blur of auburn hair and teal t-shirt shot past him, startling him out of his thoughts. Jessie laughed, beautiful emerald eyes dancing. How did she even get ahead of him? He was beginning to think she'd modified her hover board or something, she'd one the last three races and now it looked like she might win the fourth.
He swerved to the right in an attempt to get ahead of her. "Not so fast!" She moved with him in an attempt to block his path. She wasn't quite fast enough and he came up right beside her.
Up ahead a fallen log took up half the rail, only leaving space for one person of the path. And of course the log was on his side of the trail. Which mean he'd have to fall behind again. Wait a minute, that log was hollow. He grinned as a plan formed.
Looking from him then to the fallen log and back, Jessie practically read his mind. "Don't you do it, Hotshot!"
"There's nothing in the rules against it," he grinned in response as he prepared to put his plan into action.
He jumped off his board, the log creaking under his weight as he ran across it. Below he heard could hear the hum of the hover board still moving. All going to plan he could jump onto his board on the other side. He just kept moving, not thinking about the remnants of old branches poking up from the log. Some were only little nubs that didn't prove much trouble but others were far more of a problem. He jumped over one but didn't have time to celebrate his small victory before another one tripped him.
"Careful, Jonny!" Jessie called. Right, like that'd help him.
He'd say he planned it all along, but planting his hands on the log and turning his momentum into a flip was less of a plan and more of just a reflex. Whoever said a lifetime of adventure was a bad thing? He jumped off the log, landing on his board and pulling ahead of Jessie just a bit.
He shot her a grin as he swerved ahead of her. He was so close to victory now, there was no way he could lose. No short cuts, no crazy plans, just a straight shot to the pond. Nothing could stop him now.
And then it was gone.
A bright flash swallowed both him and Jessie as distantly the computer acknowledged them being logged out of QuestWorld. The visor flickered off, revealing the VR lab.
"What's the deal, Hadj?" Jonny demanded as he took off the headset, "I was winning!"
Hadji moved away from the desk that served as the monitoring station and made his way to the door. "There is an ambulance pulling up to the mansion," he answered.
"Why?" The two shot to their feet, race forgotten.
"I do not know," Hadji answered as he pulled open the door to the lighthouse. Sure enough, an ambulance was visible in the driveway. Bandit bolted outside, running up the path towards Dr. Quest.
Well, that scratched one name off the list of possible patients. That still left Race and Director Corvin however. The three were supposed to be in a meeting about something - the agency needing help with a case, Jonny guessed. Given the mansion's automated security system as well as the skill of all three men there weren't many ways someone could have successfully attacked. Therefore it must have been some sort of accident, a minor one hopefully.
Though, given his dad was visibly shaken, Jonny knew it couldn't be minor. He ignored the cold feeling between his shoulder blades as he caught up to Bandit, scooping him up before he could continue one and possibly hassle the paramedics.
"What's going on, Dad?" Jonny asked when they finally reached him.
He sighed and Jonny knew who it was before he ever said anything. The fact he looked at Jessie was a dead giveaway. "Race collapsed during the meeting."
"What? Why?" Jessie demanded, eyes widening in fear and worry.
"He had a fever, we suspect that had something to do with it," Dr. Quest answered. "But we won't know the exact reason until the doctors have a chance to examine him."
The cold feeling only grew as Jonny saw fear in his father's eyes. He had an idea as to what it was, and it wasn't good.
In room 204 they found Race still unconscious and hooked up to several monitors. The most notable of which was the heart monitor, its rhythmic beeping drowning out the hum of the other machines. Benton glanced at the monitors and his mind flashed back to monitors displaying similar grave results. The pain alone was enough to make him shove the memory away before he even had to remind himself now was not the time to dwell on it.
When he saw the blue rash he knew exactly what was ailing Race. It had been ten years since Benton had last seen it, but that didn't dull his memory at all. His fears were confirmed when he'd heard the doctor mutter something about a "Twenty-Seven series virus". That demon from his past had returned and once again it missed him. Why? Why did others have to suffer for his mistakes?
The doctor, a tall African-American woman, turned away from the monitor she had been studying, lowering her clipboard to her side. There was a sad look in Dr. Hawkins' eyes that Benton hadn't see since the rodeo incident a few years ago. She knew what it was, what it meant. Still, in spite of the situation he was glad to see a friend rather than a stranger.
Jessie broke away from the group, approaching her father's side. She stopped, glancing over at Hawkins. When the doctor nodded, she sat on the edge of the bed, taking Race's hand.
"I'm afraid the diagnosis isn't good," Dr. Hawkins spoke without prompting. Years of practice kept her tone professional, but there was a storm swirling in her dark eyes. "Bannon's been infected with a fatal virus. There aren't many recorded case of Virus Twenty-Seven Eighty-Five X but..."
"Is there a cure?" Jessie broke in, emerald eyes begging the doctor to say that there was.
"No," Benton answered quietly, sparing Hawkins the pain of crushing the faint hope Race would be alright. He should be the one to do it, it was the result of his own foolishness. "I'm sorry, Jessie."
There could have been one though, if he hadn't given up. Now it looked like his mistake would cost another life.
Jessie bit her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes as it sank in that her father was dying. Dying. After forty-one years - the majority of them spent evading death - he was going to die. Jonny sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
"Case one," Hawkins murmured, realization flashing in her eyes. She'd done her homework... which made him wonder just how she had learned of the virus to begin with. "Forgive me, I didn't realize you were already familiar with the virus."
"What do you mean 'case one'?" Jonny asked, looking over at her with stormy azure eyes. His gaze turned to Benton, "What is Twenty-Seven Eighty-Five X?"
Benton's heart sank as he realized his son had already put it together. Already knew what it had done. "It's what killed your mother," he confirmed quietly.
Jonny lowered his gaze, releasing a shaky breath. Benton had always wondered how much his son remembered of those few days, now he had the answer. Enough to know exactly what was coming.
The moment Rachel had fallen ill, Benton had begun working on the cure. He never finished it in time and she had died in a hospital much like this one. After that, he stopped working on it. He didn't see the point, the one he loved was already gone. He'd been too lost in his own grief to consider the fact others would die if the cure wasn't found. And now, here he was, cursing himself for his foolish selfishness while Race paid the price for his mistake.
Finally, Hadji broke the silence that had fallen over the room with one very important question, "How long does Race have?" His voice was calm and even, but his chocolate eyes betrayed the sorrow he was hiding.
Hawkins sighed, turning to look back at Race. "Given his track record and the rate of the virus's progression..." she trailed off as she did the math, "I give him two days, three at most."
Benton narrowed his eyes slightly. Two days, maybe three, he had that long to succeed where he had failed in the past. "I'll need a few samples of the virus. I'll take them back to the lab for study. If there's any chance I can find the cure..."
"Of course," Hawkins nodded. "I'll let Hamato know, I'm sure he can spare a few."
"Thank you, Doctor." Benton turned to leave, only to stop when he felt a hand on his arm. He turned his head to look at Hadji.
"I would like to help, Father," he murmured. His use the title was rare, further evidence of the emotions he couldn't quite hide.
Benton's first instinct was to say no. Working with the virus could be dangerous and he didn't want Hadji anywhere near that. Yet he had found the saying 'two heads are better than one' to be true and there was plenty Hadji could do that didn't involve the virus samples. Finally, he nodded, "Alright."
As they made their way out of the room he paused to look back for a moment as he made a silent vow. He would not fail this time. This time he would find the cure.
Dr. Quest's state of the art laboratory, a lab that was becoming as much as Hadji's as it was his adoptive father's, was connected to the conference room by a long corridor. The lab's distance from the main mansion was a safety precaution, just like the blast- and sound-proof walls. Not that these precautions were often put to the test, it was just simply better safe than sorry.
The walk down the corridor was silent save for their footsteps on the tile. There was tension in the air, radiating from Dr. Quest. His shoulders were stiff, grim determination in his eyes. This virus opened an old wound of his past and Hadji knew he was determined to close it once and for all.
They stopped at the double doors and Hadji moved over to the keypad. He pressed his left hand to the scanner, right hand dancing over the keypad. 91864, the keypad beeped as each number was pressed. The doors slid open and the lights came on illuminating the large, yet somehow still crowded, room.
As they entered Hadji couldn't help but cast a glance at the partially assembled android sprawled across one of the workbenches. 4-DAC would eventually be a lab assistant designed to do the more hazardous work. They were supposed to work on it more this afternoon but needless to say plans had changed. Still, Hadji wished it was operational, studying the virus samples would have been the perfect job for it. That said, he had faith in their equipment and safety procedures. The risk to himself and Dr. Quest was minor.
The case containing the virus samples was set on an empty workbench before Dr. Quest turned and made his way over to the large bookshelf in the corner of the lab. While he retrieved his old notes, Hadji began to set up the workbench so the virus samples could be safely studied. He didn't get very far before a loud crash drew his attention.
Looking over he found Dr. Quest kneeling down as he hastily cleared off the bottom shelf without care if the tossed notebooks were damaged. With a good portion of the shelf cleared a small safe was revealed. In all his years working in the lab - even aiding in the redesign of it after the original Quest Compound was destroyed - Hadji had never known there was a safe hidden in the wall. He assumed Dr. Quest had it put in to lock away the most confidential of projects and notes... and maybe even those he wished not to look at again.
From the safe Dr. Quest withdrew an old notebook. The dust on it speaking to the fact it had only been handled once in recent years, likely being when it was moved to the safe. The worn spine and corners added to the tale, explaining it had once been a favorite before its contents doomed it to be locked away.
Bringing it over to the workbench he explained, "This notebook contains all my notes on the virus. They should provide us a basis to work from." He studied it for a moment before passing it to Hadji, "Can you look over the notes while I study the samples?"
Not knowing if the request came from concerns about him studying the samples or because he simply couldn't bear to look at the notes, Hadji merely nodded. He started towards his desk as he opened the notebook. Flipping through it he found several pages of notes on various subjects. Some of which, from his brief skimming, seemed to be the conception of the QuestWorld idea. Finally, he reached the pages where the usually neat handwriting had turned shaky. The first of the pages had notes hastily written but remarkably without error.
They didn't make sense though. The notes were things such as the date of the virus's creation and the lab at which it was made. Odd things to be among the first bits of information known from what was at the time a newly discovered virus. The other notes - on symptoms, rate of progression - made more sense to be first yet they were not. Hadji could ask about it later, right now the important thing was finding anything that could help them now.
Sitting at his desk he fetched a notepad and pen with his free hand. There had to be something within the old notes that could help them. If his father had been close to finding the cure... Hadji frowned realizing there was no way to tell how close - or far - Dr. Quest had been to finding the cure when his wife died.
He considered asking, glancing up from the notes. He found Dr. Quest hunched over the microscope as he worked, a notepad of his own beside him. Deciding against disturbing him, Hadji went to return his attention to the notes when something else caught his eye. The photo was a familiar sight by now, it almost never left Dr. Quest's desk. The blonde woman in the picture was smiling, her sky-blue eyes looking at the camera. Sometimes, Hadji felt as if she was watching him.
He knew it was never the photo though that didn't mean she wasn't watching. His mind traveled back to the day seven years ago when he'd first met the Quest Team. Dr. Quest had been asked to lecture at the Calcutta University and Hadji - then just a ten-year-old street orphan - had followed the team.
He'd always said he'd done it because he was curious about them, and that was true. What he hadn't told them was there had been another reason. The night before he'd met Mrs. Quest in a vision. He hadn't known it was her at the time, but she had given him guidance, encouraging him to stay close to the Quests. "They are your future, Hadji," she had said, and she'd been right.
It was her guidance that led him to follow them that day and because of that he'd been in the right place at the right time to not only save Dr. Quest from an assassination attempt but to find the family he'd never had before. He had wondered sometimes if her guidance hadn't been to help him but to instead save her husband. He knew now that wasn't the case. He'd encountered her only a few other times, for a few moments here or there. She appeared rarely, to give advice or comfort. It wasn't until Jonny confessed that he also saw his mother occasionally that Hadji understood. Though she may be dead, Rachel Quest still watched over her family. A family that included him though he hadn't know that at the time.
He wondered if she was watching over them now. He hoped so, he was certain the could all use comfort now, especially Dr. Quest.
He shook his head, refocusing on the notes. The answer had to be here somewhere and they had to find it. Not only for Race's sake, but Dr. Quest's as well. He had failed once to find the cure and it might destroy him if he did so again.
Hadji wouldn't allow that to happen, he couldn't allow it.
Several hours later nothing had changed. Jonny sat on the edge of the bed, alone since Jessie had stepped outside to attempt to call her mother. Another time, another situation, he might have wondered where Estella was and if she'd be able to make it. This time however his thoughts were elsewhere. His gaze was locked onto the white tile floor, but he wasn't really looking at it.
In his mind's eye he saw another hospital room. Things were fuzzy, incomplete, the memories had faded and bled together over the last ten years. There were some things he could never forget though. His mother had looked like she'd been asleep. He hadn't noticed it then but looking back now he realized just how pale she'd been.
As a six-year-old child he'd been too young to understand words such as 'fatal' and 'virus', but he had understood the fact that his mother was really sick. He hadn't understood why, but he knew she got sick, went to sleep, and never woke up again.
He shut his eyes tightly as the echo of the flat-line tone assaulted his ears. The murmur of doctors and nurses almost drowned out by his father's grief filled cries. Begging her to stay, begging for more time. He was so close to finding the answer he just needed more time! His cries had done nothing however, she was gone.
She'd been gone for a long time now and Race was...
Jonny's eyes shot open and his head shot up as he felt a warm, slightly calloused, hand holding his own. He looked over at Race, daring to hope that just maybe he'd woken up. Jonny gave a quiet sight, turning his head to glare at the floor when he found him still unconscious. He figured he must've grabbed Race's hand without realizing it.
He didn't let go.
The memories following his mother's death were just as faded and blurred as the memories leading up to it. Not that it mattered, Jonny easily remembered the fact his father had spent most of his time locked away in the lab. Now that he knew what he'd been working on, Jonny couldn't exactly say he was mad at his dad for that. At the time however, he'd just been a confused child left alone with loneliness and grief. Well, almost left alone.
Intelligence One had insisted on assigning a bodyguard to them. Why they hadn't before Jonny didn't know, nor did he care. A bodyguard couldn't have saved his mother from a virus, which begged the question as to why I-One thought it would help after the fact. Whatever the reason he couldn't really complain. He still didn't know what would have happened if Race hadn't been there.
He wasn't a replacement for either of Jonny's parents, and never could be, but he had been there to push back the loneliness and offer support. That was something Jonny needed most back then, and he knew he wasn't the only one. Someone had to have started dragging his dad out of the lab after all.
Sometimes Jonny tried to imagine just what would have happened if I-One had chosen to assign a different agent - or opted not to assign one at all. Every time his mind came up blank, he just couldn't picture it. Just like he could never imagine Race dying. The man wasn't superhuman, Jonny knew that, and there had been several close calls in the past - including one terrifying time Race's heart had actually stopped - but he always survived. No matter how he got knocked down he always got back up, he always came back.
Call it experience, call it stupid optimism, whatever it was Jonny was always certain Race would be okay. They would all be okay. Everything would be okay; it'd turn out fine. Everything always turned out fine in the end.
Except for when his mom died.
And that brought Jonny to one very important question: Why wasn't there a cure? As his mother died his father claimed he was so close to finding the cure, he just needed more time. It had been ten years, so where the hell was the cure? Had he just abandoned it to work on the time program? What good would the time program have done without the cure? Yeah he'd decided to lock it away and not use it, but before that how could he have planned to go back and save her if there was no cure?
And suddenly, Jonny understood. Not having the cure meant his dad was less likely to be tempted to use the program despite locking it away.
The door opened, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked over at Jessie, silently asking how it had gone. She shook her head as she made her way over, sinking down onto the edge of the bed.
That was her third failed attempt to call her mother. Estella must be extremely busy then, or in an area with bad signal. Honestly the latter was probably more likely, if she was on a dig then odds were she was in the middle of nowhere. And everyone knew the middle of nowhere never had good signal, no matter what the various phone companies claimed.
Jessie leaned against him as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Neither of them said anything, there wasn't anything that could be said to make things easier. She rested her head against his shoulder as they listened to the beeping of the heart monitor. Though the sound meant Race was still alive, Jonny hated it.
It was a constant reminder that Race's life was in danger. That his heart could stop at any moment. Even more so, the rhythmic beeping seemed to be taunting them, repeating 'he's... going... to... die... he's... going... to... die...' endlessly.
He had to wonder, what would Race be telling them right now if he could talk? He was always a lot better at being reassuring than Jonny ever was. That's what he'd be trying to do, reassure them that everything would be alright. Maybe that's where Jonny had gotten his strong optimism from. Not that his dad was cynical by any means, he just wasn't always so sure everything would turn out fine. Race always was though, or at least that's how he seemed.
That was what they needed right now. Race couldn't do it this time though, so it would have to fall to someone else. And hey, if not Jonny then who else?
"They're gonna find it," Jonny said. His voice sounded more confident than he felt.
"What makes you so sure?" Jessie asked, raising her head to look up at him. He saw the argument she wasn't making. Dr. Quest hadn't found the cure back then nor in the ten years since, how could he find it now?
"Dad has the old notes and Hadji's help, he didn't have that before," Jonny pointed out. And now he had a reason to do so, a reason beyond the temptation of Project Rachel. "He's going to find the cure, Jessie."
"Do you really think so?" she asked, green eyes studying him critically. He didn't know why she bothered; she knew he was horrible at lying to her.
He met her gaze evenly, "Yeah. I think so."
They had to. His dad always fixed his mistakes, he'd do so again. Besides, he'd never let Race down before, he wouldn't start now.
At least, Jonny hoped so.
Naomi Hawkins was no stranger to seeing men, women, and others at their weakest and most vulnerable, standing at the very gates of death and fighting for their lives. From being an army medic to a doctor - and I-One allied doctor no less - that was one of the major things that never changed. That didn't make it any easier though, especially when the patient was a friend.
There had been times in the past where she thought Bannon had finally done it and earned that one-way ticket to the afterlife. The 'rodeo incident' being the more recent example. He ran into enough trouble just due to his job and then he went to a rodeo? It was almost like he was testing death sometimes, seeing how close he could get. Well, this time he was going to get really up close and personal with the grim reaper. There was no way he was getting out of this one.
True, she'd had that thought before and he'd come back - again said 'rodeo incident' was a perfect example - but that wasn't going to happen this time. This was a death sentence. And yet, despite how much she told herself that, how much she tried to accept the reality of the situation, some small part of her clung to the hope that he'd do it again. That fate would be in his favor once more.
She supposed that was another thing that never changed about her job. The faint glimmer of hope that the odds could be beaten never faded. She'd seen enough miracles to know it could happen, but to be certain of it was only a recipe for heartbreak.
She took note of the readings on the monitors, not needing to compare them to earlier notes to know his condition was worsening. Of all the ways for him to die, why did it have to be slowly before her eyes while she was powerless to stop it? This was what she hated most about her job, when there was nothing she could do. All her knowledge, her skills, they were useless. She was useless.
Jessie returned after her sixth or perhaps seventh attempt at calling her mother. "She still won't answer," she mumbled as she made her way back to the edge of the bed. "I n-need her an-and she still wo-won't answer..." Her borderline squeaky voice was trembling as she couldn't hold back tears anymore. Jonny wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side.
Hawkins didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say. They knew better than her the reasons Velasquez might not be answering. That was a battle she was not looking forward to, attempting to reach her to make that phone call letting her know of Bannon's passing. That was one thing Hawk never quite understood. They had been divorced for almost ten years now and yet he never removed Velasquez's name from his emergency contacts, yet the Quests had been added so it wasn't like he forgot to update it. Perhaps they were closer than Hawkins realized. She supposed she'd never know.
She doubled checked her notes, comparing them to the monitors. No errors to fix, no changes on the monitors, she had what she needed. She turned away from the machines and cast one more glance at the two.
Seeing the teenagers - both almost as skilled, determined, and strong as the dying agent - so sorrowful and defeated brought on another sharp stab of guilt. She was a doctor for God's sake, she should be able to do something to help him! Yet all she could do was wait and hope Dr. Quest found a miracle.
Oh, she'd known the Quests long enough to know finding miracles was one of Dr. Quest's specialties. Still, he was only a mortal man, there were some things he simply could not do. Finding a cure that had stumped scientists for years in only two days was likely to be one of those things.
"I wish there was something, anything, I could do," she murmured in apology.
Jonny raised his head, emotion clouded azure eyes locking on to her dark brown ones, "What do you know about Twenty-Seven Eighty-Five X?"
"Not much is known about the virus," Hawkins replied. She could provided information, but she didn't even have much of that. "It is typically identified by the characteristic blue rash that forms on the torso and in some cases limbs of the patient. The virus is not contagious - unless you plan on doing a blood transfusion - which is most likely one of the reasons there are so few recorded cases."
That and people not knowing what they were dealing with. She had to wonder just how many unrecorded cases there were. Hawk didn't doubt there were people who had been infected and were simply never found. A frightening thought but given the assumed purpose of the virus it wouldn't surprise her.
"There have been seven recorded cases, all of them resulting in the patient's death. It is believed Eighty-Five X was created in a lab, engineered to be a tool of assassination." That was the basic explanation for those who had the clearance to know about the virus but not know all of the details.
Even then it was probably more than she was 'allowed' to tell them. At this point she didn't give a damn about that. Besides, though they were only sixteen and seventeen she was certain Jonny and Jessie had seen and done enough to achieve a security clearance higher than her own.
"There are two other - weaker - strands of the virus. Twenty-Seven-Eighty-Six Y and Twenty-Seven-Eighty-Seven Z. The current theory is the weaker viruses were created to sell to the highest bidder," she continued, "Though it is assumed the creator has protection against the viruses, neither one has a known cure."
That was the only explanation she was supposed to give and even then, no one with a clearance below that of Director Corvin was supposed to hear it. And even if they had the clearance they needed authorization. Granted if Corvin found out she'd told the kids he'd probably praise her. The men he answered to wouldn't agree however.
Still, the fact remained there was another piece of the puzzle, one she'd been fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time to learn. It hadn't felt fortunate back then, but now she was realizing there was something she could do to help Bannon.
Her ever present limp was more pronounced as she approached the teens. If her superiors ever found out what she was about to do she wasn't sure Corvin would be able to protect her. Really, she wouldn't want him risking her career over it anyway. If she was going to lose her career and be thrown in prison for divulging this information then so be it.
She leaned down to be eye level with the teens, dark eyes meeting first azure then emerald. "You didn't hear this from me," she said in a low voice that got their undivided attention instantly, "But there is one man who survived Eighty-Six Y. Impossible without a cure."
And a cure for 86Y could possibly be adapted for 85X, it was worth a shot at least. Perhaps things weren't as hopeless as she thought. Perhaps - dare she hope - there was a chance Bannon could beat the odds after all. If only she'd thought of this sooner.
A determined look over took the sorrow in Jessie's eyes as she sat up straighter, "Who?"