Editing 6 Billion A.D.

Tentative Synopsis: Rigel, a botanist, embarks as a passenger on a ship headed to a galactic conference only to find out that he has an incurable disease, and six months left to live.

"Rigel!" The woman's resonant voice boomed down the narrow corridor leading to the botanist's bunk on the passenger ship, and he paused midstride.  The voice wasn't familiar.  He frowned, then turned to face her.  High spots of color tinged her cheeks, and she regarded him with eyes that were disturbingly compassionate. "Are you Dr. Veteris?"

"Yes." Rigel nodded. "That's me. And who, exactly, are you?"

"Dr. Veritis.  Rigel. I'm sorry, you don't know me. I'm Carmen. I was dispatched to inform you that the test results from your physical came back." The woman's voice was surprisingly breathless.  Rigel's eyes swept over her. Beads of sweat stood out on her brow. She had sprinted to intercept him before he had entered the dormant stage in his bunk.  But why?

"I already got my results." Rigel shook his head. "I was cleared for this project weeks ago. I'm afraid you must be mistaken."

"No, doctor. I'm sorry. There is no mistake." Carmen cleared her throat, and he caught the subtle glance away from his face.  She was struggling to maintain eye contact with him. "We thought there was at first. That we had mixed up your test results with somebody else's. But we didn't.  Dr. Veretis, there's no way to sugarcoat this.  You tested positive for the blue."

"The blue?" The words hit his ears, echoing hollowing in his head. The pandemic that had been sweeping his home planet.  The reason he was boarding this craft.  The mission to find the cure. He had worked alongside sufferers tirelessly since the disease had broken out. He had only been chosen for the project because of his genetic immunity. And now this woman, this sweaty and confused woman, was telling him he had it? "That's not possible.  I'm immune."

"No, Dr. Veretis. You're not. You only had one haplotype. You had a fifty-fifty chance of getting it. And I'm so sorry, doctor. But I can't let you continue. I can't let you board this ship and infect the colonists."

"But we're so close to the cure." Rigel shook his head again, as though he could dislodge her toneless words from his head. "I had the extract from the cacti plant refined and ready."

Carmen coughed.  Her eyes met his, and he saw the flat expression in them. "Dr. Veretis, as you already know, there's no cure for the blue. But I have an alternative solution that I may be able to offer you."

The plant doctor's eyes widened. Surely she couldn't mean...?  Immortality was expressly forbidden for a man of his stature. It wasn't just highly illegal.  It was also dirty, shameful. It was a coward's solution to the disease.

The landscape glowed beneath the evening sky. Seven suns burned through the solid mauve canopy above their walk. They approached the cave's ominous mouth as if on eggshells, not the egg shells of an earth ostrich or one of the insectoid shells of the K'oooo'lath but much like the delicate egg shells that one would conceive of in a metaphorical sense. The two marveled at the life form that had pulled them so far across the stars. “Once in a hundred years!” You say that every time. Those fauna are everywhere. Still interesting, marvelous, spectacular, stupendous; am I using enough adjectives. Sure, If you say so uncle. How many of these (expeditions) have we gone on? I think you’ll do anything to get out of teaching. My students don’t understand me. I ask the big questions. Big questions in botany, are you serious. I laughed, maybe I should have been a philosopher. Another useless profession. Why do I come on these (expeditions) with you anyway? Because you have nothing better to do before university. Botany is so antiquated. I want to study something exciting like cybernetics. You know that’s illegal. Well botany is my calling, I said with a smirk. If they ever give my tenure. I don’t ever think that is ever going to happen Rigel. You’re not very good at your job. Maybe I just have a bad assistant.  

“Do you want me to extract Rigel?” Gine asked. “What’s so special about this fauna anyway?”

“Everything. There’s a pattern here, extremely rare. And no, we’re not going to extract, just observe.”

“For how long?” Gine asked. “I honestly don’t know. However long it blooms. A botanist must be patient.”

“If you say so. What a way to spend your birthday.” Gine grinned.

I arrived home later that night, there was a milky grey sky that changed into black ebony tones as the seven suns danced away and around the planetary body like seven dancers. (describe trek through countryside?). My loft was empty, uninspiring, spartan. I liked it that way. The screen to the far side of the space blinked, announcing a new message. From my father.

This, more than anything, was the impetus of my tale, because if not for a chance ...

... At the request of my father I went to get a long overdue physical exam. The room was crowded with (instruments). It resembled (...). “Pardon the mess. We are in the process of renovating this facility.” The doctor was an older man, with dark orange skin. Spots cluttered his large, round face. He was a Belerion I believe. “I am...” The doctor interrupted, “you must be Rigel. General Vango talks about you all the time. He’s informed me to give you every test there is. The doctor paused for a second. “Where are my manners, I’m Doctor Condel, or Co-del’-ondel-o’ris if you have the patience.”