Dictated

[modernholmes]

 [If anyone has happened to run into Conan over the last few days they might have noticed that he's been a little sluggish in his responses.    That his voice has been hoarse and that he seems to be sneezing a lot.  Not that anyone has had much chance to talk to him with all the running around he's been doing this week.

What is a cold compared to all the things there were to investigate here?  

Whatever this illness was, Conan had been determined to ignore it.  With the result that this wasn't just a cold anymore.  

It is the dizziness and coughing that at last force Conan to accept that he needs to rest.  He reaches out for the journal and dictates into it in a  hoarse and stuffed up voice.]

I think I'm a little sick.  If anyone needs me I'm going to be in my room.

Comments

[atadiscoverer]

The scanner is picking up some trace signs of something... It's not recognising the substance, which is a wee bit odd.

[modernholmes]

[Okay, definitely panicking now. Haibara was going to kill him.]

Maybe it's an error?

[atadiscoverer]

No, there's nothing wrong.

[He taps a few commands on the device, more notes written down in that same language.]

[modernholmes]

Ne, how does that device work?

[atadiscoverer]

Internal power supply with a genetic security coding.

[That's said completelty natural]

[modernholmes]

...Genetic?

[This was not good.]

[atadiscoverer]

Aye. Only possessors of the ATA Gene can use it.

[He frowns slightly.]

These readings...They don't match your age.

[modernholmes]

Ah, really? That's odd.

[Attempt at distraction and figuring out a valid lie failed.]

[atadiscoverer]

Is there something you're not telling me?

[Suspicious Carson is suspicious]

[modernholmes]

Why would I be hiding something?

[atadiscoverer]

Sensitive. Maybe something happened.

[Those notes on what he's found? Still haven't been translated.]

All I know is that something has altered your genetic code. And this something is not on the Ancient Database, or on the additions we made on Earth drugs and conditions.

[modernholmes]

[Inwardly Conan curses as he forces his mind to work past the fever. Haibara might be furious with him for this, but he could not allow another person to put themselves at risk.]

...Stop.

[For the first time he looks at Dr. Carson without manipulating his body language to mimic a child. His expression,and his stillness, none of it belonged on any child. This was serious.]

Do not look into this any further. I know what it is, and I won't allow anyone else to get involved.

[atadiscoverer]

Whatever this thing is, it's altered your genetic code. This is nothing I can just leave alone.

[modernholmes]

It can't harm me any more than it already has. And there is no cure. Does it matter?

[atadiscoverer]

There's no cure in your world.

[modernholmes]

And investigating it will draw the kind of attention it is best to avoid.

[atadiscoverer]

You think I can't investiage something like this in secret? I hold some of the highest security clearances in the world. Not that any of it matters here.

[modernholmes]

The more people investigating it, the more likely it will be discovered. And security clearance doesn't mean anything. These people, they've infiltrated all levels of government and industry at home. And who is to say that some of them have no made their way here?

[atadiscoverer]

If they've made their way here, they know they have no power here.

[modernholmes]

Power enough.

I don't think you are understanding me. The people who did this have a simple policy. Kill everyone who knows. Kill their family and friends, just to make sure they never told anyone. And no one will ever know it was anything more than a convenient accident.

[atadiscoverer]

A convenient accident? In this place?

Besides, you come back in two weeks, anyway. Or so I've heard.

[modernholmes]

There isn't enough evidence to suggest that what is learned here is forgotten when we return to our worlds.

[atadiscoverer]

Well, then, you're safe. I'm in another galaxy, after all.

[modernholmes]

[

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[<i><Conan glares at him, but breaks down in a fit of coughing before he can answer.</i>]

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson places two bottles of pills on the table.]

Multivitamin. Orange flavoured, loosely. And this is for the cough. Mutlivitamin once a day, the cough remedy once every four hours, and you'll be as right as rain.