Star Wars_ X-Wing 02_ Wedge's Gamble - Michael A. Stackpole [40]
The door closed behind them, with the air whistling in as the opening narrowed. Derricote glanced back. “It sounds like that because we are under negative air pressure in here. That way if something breaks out it will not be carried by a draft out of the lab.”
“I thought humans would be immune to this plague.”
“No, that’s not exactly correct.” The General smiled and Loor knew the man just loved exposing any weakness in Kirtan’s knowledge of the project. “We are starting from a number of viruses for which aliens show a high susceptibility. It is possible that spontaneous mutations could change it enough that humans could be affected by it. The chances of that are very limited, primarily because the genetic sequences we’re using would have to be massively altered for humans to fall sick. It is possible, of course, that this might happen, but at the average mutation rate, it would take a thousand years before that would happen.”
“But you could make a vaccine, couldn’t you?”
“Building up immunity to a virus is not all that simple. It could take years to perfect a vaccine for this disease.” Derricote smiled casually, as if talking about an inconsequential amount of time. “It could be done, but it would take a concentration of resources that would exceed these by ten or twenty times.”
At least, then, the Rebels won’t have a chance at doing it since they don’t even have this facility. Loor lowered his voice. “You can cure it, yes?”
Derricote nodded. “Bacta.”
“Is that all?” Bacta was the treatment for everything from a simple cut to severe combat trauma, from a sniffle to the virulent Bandonian Ague. “If Bacta will cure your disease, the disease is useless.”
“Hardly. The more severe the case of the disease, the greater the amount of bacta needed to cure it.” Derricote’s dark eyes glittered in a way Loor found rather unnerving. “In the very late stages of the disease bacta can hold the disease at bay, but some organs and extremities may be so damaged that they will require cybernetic replacement. Come and see.”
Derricote led him deeper into the laboratory complex and through a doorway into a stainless-steel corridor. Transparisteel windows lined the walls and gave them views of detention cells with one or two individuals in them. On the left were piggish Gamorreans—naked, as were the squid-headed Quarren on the right side—looking miserable in their clinically spare environs. Those nearest the doorway through which they entered appeared relatively normal—though they were such a sight that Loor couldn’t bring himself to study them in any great detail.
“You will notice the transparisteel windows are triple-paned. That central sheet is reflective on their side, so they cannot see us. The walls between the cells are soundproofed. We found that necessary to maintain order.”
“I see,” Loor said, but he really saw no need for security precautions. The first few Gamorreans were placid, though they did seem to know people might be observing them through the windows, so they sat in such a way that they preserved their modesty. Farther along they appeared to be in some sort of a stupor. Their black eyes had become quite glassy and fixed on one point. They just lay there, barely moving, in whatever position they seemed to find themselves, no matter how uncomfortable.
Loor did notice a splotchiness on the Gamorreans’ flesh. Angry black boils seemed to radiate out a spider’s web of lines that connected them one to another. One creature had a boil on his tongue and several others showed them on the bottoms of their feet. Loor assumed the boils were painful since what little movement he did see seemed to be an attempt to relieve pressure on them.
He also noticed these Gamorreans seemed very dry. Mucus and saliva did not decorate their faces the way it normally did. Clearly the creatures were