To find the most recent part, use your browser's text search feature to find @***@

 Links to other Parts:

Part 1: Not Alone

Part 2: A Spy Unrealized

Part 3a: The Journey Part 1

Part 3b: The Journey Part 2

Part 4: Horizons

And now, Part 5

@***@

The Not So Distant Future...

"You seem to be existing just fine right now," Ariel Johnson said. He was surreptitiously reaching for the weapons locker underneath the control panel. Whoever their visitor was, he was clearly insane.

"No, that's not what I mean," Seb continued. "I obviously exist. Just not in those data banks, not now. Oh dear, this was unexpected."

"What was?" Flynn asked. He shook his head at Johnson. They didn't know anything about their guest, and he, for one, wanted to find out more before deciding what to do.

"Well, we targeted the station as the receiving area, since it was completely empty. Can't have anything messing up a delicate operation like this, right?"

"It wasn't completely empty, even before we got here," Orion put in. "The AMS..." Flynn stared daggers at him, and he fell silent.

"That thing?" Seb asked, puzzled. "Well, since it is still here now, that means I've been displaced...about...hmm...when was that...at least 15 years!" 

"Wait...you're saying you're from the future?" Though all the team members were thinking this, it was Johnson who said it.

"It would seem so...hmmm, it shouldn't have been able to do that. A few hours or days, yes, but now years...what happened..." Seb continued thinking aloud, muttering below his breath. The others strained to hear, but all they could hear was "perhaps...tachyon current...higher graviton concentration next time...might not be reversible...."

Flynn cleared his throat. "Well, since you seemed a bit...unbalanced earlier, you wouldn't mind our doctor examine you?"

"Futureboy?" Seb seemed surprised, then smiled. "Well, it has been awhile since I saw him last...though he won't know me, not here and now, at least. Yes, that should be fine. In fact, I'm not sure why I fainted earlier. Most strange...most strange indeed." He continued pondering, as Flynn quietly explained the situation to the doctor. He looked up. Seb was still standing in the door way. 

"Would you like a seat," Flynn asked, gesturing to one of the shuttle's empty chairs. 

"Oh, yes, thank you," Seb said. He sat down eagerly, then looked puzzled. "Seatbelts...how do these work?"

Flynn sighed. "When are you from, anyway?"

***

"Almost exact?" Glast asked. "What kind of 'almost' do you mean; horseshoe crabs and spiders or humans and chimps?"

"Closer," Picard answered. "More like humans and Neanderthals. It's seems to be a near match to Panicum virgatum."

"Drop the Latin, Andre. What's the common name?"

"Switchgrass. Grows to be about 3 meters tall, has a deep root system, and does well in moderately alkaline soils."

"Which means?" Glast prompted.

"It's almost perfect for the Martian climate. Except it doesn't grow well in extreme cold." Picard indicated a small line of base pairs. "This gene, here, looks like it came from some sort of cold weather plant, probably Poa pratensis."

"Again with the Latin, Andre."

"Sorry. Kentucky Bluegrass. It can survive temperatures below freezing, as this switchgrass seems to be able to." 

"Well, what's it doing here?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't have even recognized it I hadn't gone over the terraforming plans a few days ago. The plans call for something similar to this, to start fixing carbon dioxide."

"Why would you recognize it from that?" Glast asked.

"The genetic profiles for the modified plants they were planning to use were included," Picard explained. "This switchgrass is an exact match."

"Couldn't it be a coincidence? It could just have developed to fill this niche."

"I doubt it, but there's one way to be sure. Do you still have the rest of that sample?"

"Yes, here." Glast passed the sample to Picard. "Why? I've already run the normal tests."

"What about mTDNA sequencing?"

"Not yet. But why? We don't have anything to compare it to."

"Actually, we do. The mTDNA sequence of the GM switchgrass was included in the plans."

"Well, you're going to need help." Glast took back the sample and tapped some of it's contents out onto a petri dish. 

"Tess, really, you need to get some sleep."

"Andre, we've got enough mysteries right now, and I intend to solve one of them today! Besides, you're only good with digital, not hands on. You don't know a centrifuge from a cell culture."

"Well, the first one isn't alive..."

"And what setting and with what medium do you need to separate mitochondria from the rest of the cell?"

"Uhhh..."

"Exactly. Now pass me that bottle, the one labeled CTAB. This should only take a couple of hours."

@***@

Futureboy was already ready with a full battery of tests the moment Seb, Flynn, and Johnson walked through the door to sickbay. "So you lost consciousness once?" he asked Seb, while checking his eyes. 

"Twice, actually. Once before, in the pod. Then again, after Flynn woke me up."

"Did you suffer a blow to the head?"

"No. I just passed out."

"Any history of this?"

"No."

"Hmmmm." The doctor considered the possibilities. "It could be a minor stroke, or a tumor, or a heart problem."

"Anything less worrisome?" Seb asked.

"Well, it could have just been surprise the second time. The first, though..." Futureboy paused. "I'd like to run an U/MRI scan on you. If that's alright, of course."

"Oh, of course. No problem." 

"Alright. Oh, and one more thing. I'll need a small blood sample." Futureboy pressed a sampling patch onto Seb's thumb. 

"Ow!" Seb yanked his thumb away.

"It's all right. Just a fingerprick is enough." The doctor fused the wound closed, then clipped an oxy-meter to Seb's other hand. "Blood oxygen normal. Stick out your tongue, please." He checked the angle of the appendage. "Normal extension," he noted. "Alright, this way to the scanner." 

The largest machine in the room, the scanner yawned to accept the patient. Seb slid in, the doctor slid the door shut, and the scan began. 

"Nothing unusual on the first pass," Futureboy reported. He started the second scan. Suddenly, he stopped the scanner. A few quick taps brought up the scan from the previous pass. He glanced between them, then frowned. "This can't be right..."

"What is it, Doc?" Flynn asked. 

"I'm not sure just yet. Let me run another scan..." The machine ran through another cycle. All three runs were displayed side by side. His brow furrowed, Futureboy magnified a specific section of each of the scans. "That shouldn't be possible..." he muttered.

"What?" Johnson prodded.

"This," Futureboy explained, "Is the exact same section of muscle tissue, scanned three different times. From right to left, you have the first to third. Notice the difference?"

"The third one's smaller than the others," Flynn observed.

"Exactly. The difference is minute, but if shouldn't have happened this quickly. It takes much longer than seconds for muscle tissue to break down this much." Futureboy magnified another section from each scan. "And these are scans of the same artery. The plaque, though minimal in all of them, is diminishing."

"So what are you saying Doc?" Johnson asked.

"I'm saying that this man is getting younger. Not older, younger. And it is happening at several times what it would be if it was simple reversal." Futureboy brought up a calculator. "The only section of the body not greatly affected," he said, while tapping in some numbers, "is the brain. Was he wearing a helmet?" 

"Yes, but I don't see what the problem is," Flynn said. "So he's getting younger. How is that bad?"

"Because, based on the scans the machine has been running, the change has been accelerating. If we don't reverse whatever is happening within the next 24 hours, Seb will not be in any condition to answer your questions. In fact, he will not be at all."

***