There had been a time, Moira couldn't pinpoint exactly when, ten years ago perhaps? Maybe it had been around the time that one of Desmond's post docs had made the incredibly awkward statement of his undying love for her via AIM...... regardless, there had been a time when Moira had wondered if the technology that increasingly filled her lab and the rest of her life would someday transform its human masters into something unrecognizable.
Increasingly, though, Moira found herself agreeing with the American technologist, Steve Jobs, who once said, "It's not a faith in technology. It's a faith in people." While advanced technology was a critical component in her life, it was the creative, persistent, adaptable human beings who interpreted and applied the technology that she had faith in.
Her thick leather-bound book lay open in front of her, filled with pages worth of a shorthand she had developed while a young student at Oxford, she looked at Dr. Banner and Charles and said, "Dr. Banner, it's my understanding that you used a variant of the Erskine serum that gave Mr. Rogers his enhanced abilities. Is that correct?"
“Yes, that is correct,” Bruce said, reaching up a hand to work one of the holographic screens that hung all around the lab. He flipped through a few things, finally opening the electronic copy of his notes from his initial experiments with the serum. “You can enlarge or switch pages with your finger.”
Despite her only being a handful of years older than him, it was clear that she eschewed at least some of the technological advances of the past few decades. “Or, if you prefer, I can have Friday send them to be printed and bound for you,” he offered, not wanting her to be uncomfortable.
“Moira isn’t quite the luddite she appears,” Charles teased, looking around the room and making a mental note to order a similar system for his conference room. He pulled up closer to the screen and enlarged the page.
“Have your results accounted for the difference in how the serum has affected each of you? I know that there is the problem of radiation source, but I understand some of the other serum recipients were treated with the same protocol as Rogers, yet each of you shows a very individual response.” Charles got straight down to business, reading through the report, but trusting that Dr. Banner would have easy access to these answers.
Moira smiled at Charles’s remark, she was perfectly capable of using a tablet and any other technological piece of gadgetry, she simply preferred the act of writing her thoughts on paper. It helped her think. “Charles, do you remember if you ever had your ATP enzyme production levels checked prior to your recent unfortunate adventure?”
She turned to Bruce, “Thank you so much for the offer, I don’t mind looking at the electronic chart, I just prefer to order my thoughts on paper.” She flipped through the pages running her finger over a few lines.
“Am I correct that you have an EARS2 mutation?,” Moira took a sip from the mug of tea at her side.
Bruce watched them interact with each other, unable to stop himself from wondering what sort of relationship was there. They seemed very comfortable together, which didn’t necessarily mean they had a romantic past, but he thought he was getting a vibe. Not that he was a good judge of that kind of thing. Tony would probably just blurt it out and ask.
“Unfortunately, no one has been able to perfectly recreate the circumstances that were used for Steve’s transformation,” Bruce said. “We’ve always attributed the different results to the fact that even using the same protocols might have a different outcome due to minute changes to the serum or the ingredients used.” Best they could tell it was kind of like how you could make two batches of cookies with the same recipe and one would have a slightly stronger taste of cinnamon than the other.
He turned to Moira at her question. “I am unaware of that,” he said. “Genetics isn’t really one of my areas of expertise though. Does that mean something?”
“Moira clearly expects that everyone with an eidetic memory would choose to recollect a lifetime of lab results,” Charles said mildly, and turned back to the screen. “Is your DNA sequence available, Dr. Banner, we can check.” He scrolled through the records. “Much of Moira’s research is based on hypotheses regarding genetic mutations that express in specific ways. I believe an EARS2 mutation may give the patient a particular sensitivity to gamma radiation.”
He ran his eyes across the screen, and pointed at the information Moira was looking for. “I believe that means your batch of cookies got chocolate chips.”
When Moira had been in her early forties, she had once asked an elderly aunt at what point in one’s life did one truly feel “like an adult”, Her aunt had given her a rueful smile and said, “I’ll tell you when I get there.” Remembering that moment allowed her to justify the inner eye roll that a lesser, younger Moira would have directed at Charles.
Instead, she turned to Bruce, “Dr. Banner, do you mind if I call you Bruce?” She was dearly hoping to reach a point where they could drop formalities and simply roll up their sleeves and get to work.
One of my pet projects over the years has been the interaction between mitochondrial energy production and gene signaling,” she arched a brow towards Charles before continuing, “If you’ll indulge me, some of us may not have remember the intricacies of the electron transport chain and it’s role in gene expression. She hastily sketched out a few ovoids on a piece of paper.
“While there are numerous mitochondrial variations within the human genome, it has only been in the last ten years that their role in silencing and triggering gene expression has been acknowledged,” Moira glanced up to see if her audience was still awake, noting that they were, she continued, “In your case, Dr. Banner, you have a variation of the EARS2 located on the short arm of the sixteenth chromosome. It’s my belief that this particular mutation may have made you particularly reactive to the impact of gamma radiation and may also contribute to the significant cellular change that you experience.”
She paused, “However, that’s only a theory. I wouldn’t put too much weight in it at this point.”
“Oh, of course, Bruce is fine,” he said, slightly embarrassed that he hadn’t already insisted on it. It was rare for him to ask anyone to use his title. He listened with fascination to the explanation about how the variations on specific genes might impact other things. It was one of those theories that would be very difficult to prove.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to let his mind wander down the path of thinking about what might have been if he did not have that particular genetic mutation. For as long as he wished to rid himself of his alter ego, he had come to make peace with both parts of himself and he missed the low buzz of the Other Guy’s thoughts in the back of his mind. “Should we check to see if Steve and I have any of the same genetic variations?” he asked. “Maybe that could help us zero in on a way to reverse whatever they did to us.
Charles moved to another screen to pull up Captain America’s records to view them side by side. “It could, but we may only find differences which may only explain the differences in how the serum manifests in your body. Or it’s possible that the Gamma radiation had a significant impact on your neural pathways, affecting emotion regulation in the ways that interacted with the serum’s effects.”
“Occam’s razor would suggest Gene Inactivation therapy, but that would need to be administered intravenously in a laboratory setting. I don’t believe RNA interference would be possible to ingest.”
Nodding, Moria said, “Perhaps this isn’t a genetics issue or a biochemical one, “. Moira looked over the screen again, “Could this be a form of chemically induced somatoform disorder?”
Bruce nodded at Charles’s words. It did seem unlikely that whoever was responsible for dosing them could have created something that targeted their genetics in the short amount of time between their decision to go to Genosha and their arrival. That sort of thing would take months of preparation.
At Moira’s suggestion, he frowned. “You think they somehow tricked us into thinking our abilities are gone?” That explanation might work for him, especially considering the issues he’d had transforming when they first became aware of the threat Thanos posed, but it wouldn’t explain Steve’s physical regression.
“It’s possible,” Charles answered, “but it’s not exactly a trick. Our minds are powerful and far more connected to the physical than most of us like to admit. But If this is chemically induced, there will be a point where you begin to withdraw from the affects on your own, unless you are resided. It likely won’t be pleasant, withdrawal never is, but then everything should go back to the way it was on its own. That seems too simple.”
He steepled his hands in front of his face, thinking. “Have you scanned for nanites?”
Moira played with her pencil, “What if it’s not somatic, but more of a receptor antagonist like suboxone?” She sat quietly for a moment and then continued, “Or it could be something that suppresses cellular function in a manner that Captain Rogers and you, Bruce are particularly vulnerable to...” She got up from her chair and stretched.
“For example, ciprofibrate is an excellent antibiotic. Barring allergic reaction, giving it to someone without an infection might cause a mild fungal infection in a minority, however, in individuals with certain mtDna mutations it can cause rapid decompensation, and given the fact that the half life of drugs varies wildly…” she trailed off.
“First thing we did was scan for nanites,” Bruce said in response to Charles’ question. “Tony and I had some success last year programming nanites to fight cancer and cure Dr. Foster. We thought it was possible someone reverse engineered that technology.” They hadn’t found anything that would indicate that was possible though.
Bruce listened to Moira’s brainstorming with interest. “That’s… possible,” he said. “And something that would be easier to make us ingest.” His mind through the possible ways they could test for something like that or treat something like that.
Moira pulled her laptop out of her bag, “Why don’t we run it through the pipeline algorithm?” She punched in her log in credentials, allowed the camera of the laptop time to scan her retina and then navigated to the Muir Island servers.
While she waited for the computer to establish a secure link, she said, “So we’ll start with drugs that we know impact mitochondrial function in a subset of the population, ones that act as receptor antagonists, and ones that have at least a theoretical possibility of suppressing gene signaling.” Moira ticked off boxes, paused for a moment and said, “Let’s limit the search to PO and TD administration.” Hitting the button that would send the computer churning through its database, she logged out and closed the top of the computer and slipped it back into her bag.
“While that’s working, let’s take a break,” Charles suggested. “Maybe get some lunch. Honestly, you look as if you’ve been burning the candle at both ends Bruce, and you could use a break from this lab.” He imagined it had to be stressful, being both the doctor and the patient in this particular scenario, and someone needed to make sure Dr. Banner was engaging in self-care.
If he was being honest, Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten or slept. He was rather singularly focused on solving this problem, more for Steve’s sake than his own, though he’d been surprised to realize how much he missed his other half.
“Uh, yeah, food is probably a good idea,” he said. As a doctor, he frequently encouraged others to eat well and get plenty of rest though he was typically bad at taking his own advice. “We can ask Friday to order in and have it delivered to the 39th floor common area. That’s a good place to relax.”
And if he fell asleep on one of the sofas, well, Friday would make sure that no one disturbed him or that he was woken if something emergent happened.