Lost Era 06_ Catalyst of Sorrows - Margaret Wander Bonanno [34]
“So can we do that here?” Uhura nodded at the prime suspect, the Gnawing bacillus-turned-virus and, as if on cue, Crusher made the HIV disappear.
“We might,” Crusher said. “If this were only one virus.”
“Uh-oh,” McCoy murmured.
Crusher manipulated the image, creating a duplicate. As they watched, one model developed small splashes of orange, while the other continued replicating in green. When Crusher created a third image, it showed no growth at all and, in fact, the yellow-brown rods began to disappear. A fourth image showed no rods, but splashes of orange and green, interspersed with round gray nodules.
“Are we looking at the four distinct specimens from the locket?” Uhura guessed.
“I wish it were that simple,” Crusher said. “No, these are all time-elapsed shots of the same specimen. What I thought was just one bug became two. Or was it three? And did I just imagine it, or had the first bug mutated into two new bugs? Or had it vanished altogether? This damn thing won’t hold still. It’s a moving target. Every time I look at it, it’s something else. Sometimes it moves so fast even the instruments can barely detect it. Nothing natural can do that.”
“At least nothing with which we are familiar,” Selar suggested.
“Copenhagen theory…” McCoy muttered, scratching his chin. “If it works for quantum physics, why can’t it work for medicine?”
All three women gaped at him. Selar’s fingers stopped moving.
“Indeed,” she said. “Why not?”
“Okay,” Crusher said. “Now I’m the one who needs nice, simple words.”
“The wave-versus-particle theory of quantum physics was first described by the Nobel physicist Niels Bohr in Earth year 1927,” Selar said. “Bohr was born in Copenhagen, hence his theory is referred to as the Copenhagen theory. Prior to this, physicists could not understand why quantum matter appeared in the form of particles, but behaved like waves. Bohr suggested that quantum particles function as waves as long they are unobserved. Each quantum particle is equally distributed in a series of overlapping probability waves. But when observed, the waves revert to particles.”
“What’s that got to do with-?” Crusher began.
“If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?” Uhura suggested.
“Oh, now we’re talking magic-!” Crusher protested.
“Like the placebo effect?” McCoy countered.
“Not the same thing at all,” she shot back.
“In English, please,” Uhura said.
“C’mon, Bev, think about it,” McCoy argued. “Every MD knows that every time you introduce a new medication, outcomes are always influenced by the fact that some people get better just because they’re taking a pill. You give a hundred people a sugar pill when they think they’re getting the actual medication, and ten to thirty percent of them will report that they feel better. Except with antidepressants, where up to sixty percent of patients given a placebo report effectiveness, just because someone’s listening to their troubles, patting their hand, and giving them a magic bullet.”
“If you’re talking about human patients, sure,” Crusher acknowledged. “But that doesn’t apply to all species across the board. Vulcans, for instance.”
“Oh, well, Vulcans!” McCoy dismissed them with a wave of his hand, then seemed to remember that Selar was there. “Sorry, Selar. No offense.”
“None taken, Doctor.”
“And anyway,” Crusher went on heatedly. “We’re talking about a virus here, not a patient or a tree. What the hell does the Copenhagen theory or the placebo effect have to do with-“
“Time out!” Uhura said sharply, and they subsided. As if on cue, her intercom sounded.
She’d sent Thysis home early and diverted all incoming calls to other offices. Only her Romulan Listeners and Tuvok had authorization to interrupt.
“Uhura,” she said, touching a contact on her console