1525/Science is About to Happen!

Science is About to Happen!
Date of Scene:	05 May 2020
Location:	R and D Labs: Triskelion
Synopsis:	Peggy Carter, melting popsicle. There's SCIENCE to the rescue!
Cast of Characters:	Jane Foster, Bobbi Morse, Jemma Simmons, Dane Whitman

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Jane Foster has posed:
Having a bruised and lacerated hand sucks. At least stitches weren't necessary. But Jane has an impressive bruise that runs all the way below her first knuckles clear to her wrist. As a preucation, she also gets a really cool strip of ancient gauze, some Star Wars bandaids (not a fan), and a few extra-strength Tylenol to go with that variable flotilla of discomfort and pain. All in a day's work. At least it's her left hand; she, like most of the world, is dexterous, so that helps somewhat. Busy doodling a star on the light splint and wrappings that make her look like she's some sort of martial artist ninja to go along with celebrity astronomer person. Gotta get *all* the titles, right?

But the doodled star is pretty much happy, done with a sparkly gel pen she probably acquired from an eight-year-old girl. This counts as high-level clearance as she heads her way into the lab, a report in a nice little folder and another on her tablet, both tucked into a bag on her hip. She hums to /Hotel California/, occasionally singing in a pretty decent voice: "Any time of year, you can find her here. Her mind is definitely twisted, she got that Mercedes-Benz and she got a lot of pretty, pretty boys she calls friends..." Totally not a Peggy allusion. Totally not.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Usually when there's a level 10 super important secret critical must drop everything and focus on this thing right now task.. Fury tells her in person. But this time it seems she's there to help, rather than run things. That's fine, when it comes to SCIENCE! she is always happy to help the R&D team. They're incredible. Bobbi ran those labs from time to time when Fitz+Simmons aren't there and she always dreads it. She knows she can't do it as well as them.

She rounds the corner and smiles to Jane, nose crinkle and a pep in her step. "Star wars bandaid, nice." Definitely a fan. After the mess in Manhattan it's been a day of paperwork and discussions with the DOJ and FBI and NYPD. This is a good change of pace, it'll help her mind focus on something better than legal stuff.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    It might have been amusing to Jemma that the only bandages that were available that actually were of use in that archaic first aid kit last night were Star Wars themed...which would have worked perfectly with the day being May 4th. If....Jemma was actually worried about what the date was. She....had other things in mind last night.

    Like...trying not to kill one of the founders of SHIELD as she knows it. That might have been pretty high up on Jemma's list.

    As it is, Jemma is hard at work in the laboratory when Jane finds her way in. The old medical file was converted into a more user friendly digital format by the illustrious Fitz, which was then shunted immediately over to FitzSimmon's private network stash that only the prettiest, err, most important of personnel had access to. And this information was linked to Jemma's tablet, which she is now perusing as she frowns. It would appear that there are *things* in the medical file of one Margaret Carter, former Director, that are worrisome for the biochemist.

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane Whitman is already here, studying a tablet with pertinent information on it, frowning in thought, stylus tucked behind his ear.

"They used /what/ for the refrigerant?" He mutters more to himself than anything else, then tilts a brow as a few more pictures get scrolled by, "Uh...I'm pretty sure I've seen this lady's portrait in one of the hallways...."

He's another "augmentee" to the R&D team. Maybe not quite certain why he was called in, but apparently it's a case of Fury covering all the bases.

"Morning Jane, Bobbi. You all weren't kidding about a thrill a minute here."

Jane Foster has posed:
There are ways to start a new job with a bang, leaving a good impression. Swooping into the rescue always shows up well on a monthly review, and nothing like a 1 on 1 where you get to say "I saved a founder of this very organization with my quick thinking and reflexes!" Yeah, well, that's also a way to get shoved into a subbasement doing filing to knock the ego back a bit.

There are terrible ways to prepare for a promotion, or at least considering a promotion. Like contributing to death of said founding mother of modern spycraft. Or both simultaneously failing at the promotion - oops, didn't get her out in time - and the new job by refusing job duties, like escorting the dead. So, that all said, Jane is in pretty good spirits this morning. Her eyes show lavender smudges under them from a lack of adequate sleep. Adrenaline will do that. Her smile brightens for no apparent reason, like the sun just shone through the clouds and found her though. It must be the lab. The love affair with all things scientific, the disease of 'playing with beakers' and 'being one with the equation' affecting her with its madness. Okay, seriously, she just gets to wander by. "Antifreeze and overglorified coolants, weren't there? We should be lucky they didn't try vitrification. It's never been proven to work at a larger scale, and the dewar process refined back in the 80s had to be built on smuggled out Soviet technology. I haven't found any western references that made a lick of sense except a suspect West German field study from 1978. Closest I could get to anything indicative without breaking into questionable sources." So, no, she hasn't slept. Not long. "I am still having trouble understand the controlled thaw process, but we need a lot of guesswork here done fast, don't we? Hi, Doctor Simmons. Agent Morse, Agent Whitman." Not beaming. Nope. Totally beaming. "Thanks. I like the bandaids, though the movies... not so much."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi listens to Jane talk at a million miles a minute and rubs her eyes a bit. "Good golly Jane slow down. Hi Dane. Coolant? Yes, this job does always keep you on your toes. Speaking of which.. Fury sends me a message to get my butt to the labs asap and help you Simmons, so .. why are we gathering PhD's suddenly for a super important do it now project."

Her eye brows raise though as she considers what it'd mean to be thinking about soviet freezing technology from the 70s and 80s. "How did you hurt your hand Jane?" She pulls up a seat and takes out her tablet, resting it on a table top. She has her lab coat on because.. well, she's in the lab doing SCIENCE! and what better way to set the mind right than to dress for it. Her hair tied back, safety goggles hanging from her lab coat pocket, blue gloves dangling from the other pocket. "Someone catch me up please, what is so important that Fury isn't telling me himself?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    "Flash frozen. Like a common pack of vegetables. Or, in keeping with the festive atmosphere, like Han Solo in Empire Strikes Back." Parallels to Star Wars continue. The gentle British accent of Jemma cuts through the lab, as those eyes never leave the tablet. "And yes, the cryo technology was based on Russian specifications. A little more advanced than what we pulled off of that island mission fairly recently, but only just." And...like that, Jemma knows who is in her lab...as three of the individuals, including herself, were on that mission. "No sensor jacked into her cranial cavity, fortunately. But, still. I am surprised the tech lasted as long as it did."

    And....to answer Bobbi's question, Jemma flicks a finger from her tablet up to the nearest screen. It is a large monitor and it comes to life with the information that she was reviewing. And....with the high definition of the screen comes the portrait of one Margaret Carter. Alongside that? Details of her sudden disappearance in the 80's...which speak of cellular degradation due to an offshoot of the Infinity Formula, data about project CRISPR, which may be used to absolve the degradation on a genetic level, and the fact that Peggy was on ice, literally, for about 40 years. "We responded to an emergency situation last night, Bobbi. One of the cryo-pods was malfunctioning. This is who the pod contained."

    And now...a pause to let Bobbi take it all in. And the wait for the eventual shock when Agent Morse actually comprehends who the patient is.

    In 3....2....1...

Dane Whitman has posed:
Dane shakes his head, looking towards Jane, "No, I'm just saying we might be lucky this thing malfunctioned when it did. This coolant went under a global ban in 1994. It would have degraded in another few months and likely raised the temperature to the point that she would've passed on without anyone being any the wiser. Maybe it was already starting to degrade and that's what triggered the malfunction." Dane shakes his head, "Soviet cryo tubes...."

He falls silent then, letting Bobbi get filled in on the happenings. He's a relative newbie here, and most of what Peggy did was classified before he joined the Agency, so while he may lack the personal reverence for the woman some hold, but he can read and understand why it's a big deal, at least. Though he'll admit he's not entirely sure how he feels about a monolithic security and intelligence agency trying to keep its Directors immortal....

Jane Foster has posed:
"Agent Morse, that about covers it. We came in response to a flash alert from the Director's office. Agent Simmons and Fitz joined me on site in the cryo rooms," since yes, the Triskelion may have fancier names but she's calling it that. Jane is punctual and precise when needed. She pulls her tablet out with one hand from her bag, carefully setting it on the nearest counter for Bobbi's review. "The preservation protocols on the pod shut down and the renewal process began, albeit with very short notice. We weren't able to manage an override to maintain the intact seal, so the choice was bringing her out. Whether something triggered to warn the Director or he decided it was time to correct an existing ailment, I am not able to say." Not unwilling, not able. Her mouth turns downward, apologetic all the same.

Jane approaches Bobbi, lowering her voice. "However, I can read into a good deal of those records. If you will allow a semi-professional recommendation, our patient needs to be in front of an oncologist as soon as possible. A suite of MRIs for major organ deterioration or damage are also necessary because we aren't dealing with a healthy individual."

Her gaze flicks up to the records on file, being pretty plainly sketched out. She nods curtly. "They forestalled the inevitable. Not by months; days. I give her an outside chance of seven days, based on what I saw yesterday. I'd need to review any fluctuations or improvements to revise that up or downward, but she needs to be in an ICU." Nope, not moving the left arm to gesture. Ouch. Double ouch, as she winces sharply. Bad idea, moving her hand. Right, this question. She looks down at the starclad splint with its cool kung-fu wrapping. One sided, but still cool. "Happened during the extraction. Agent Simmons forced the door and I may have..." Pause.

A rather long pause, for her. She looks away over Dane's head, since Simmons ain't saving her from this one. "Ah... Punched the glass." That's bulletproof glass at that. And she is not a particularly strong woman.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi has the annoyed look on her face. She's not annoyed at Foster, or Simmons, or Whitman, or even herself. She's annoyed at Fury for being vague. It's unlike him, at least from her experience with him - other people might have worse luck with the man. Her mind is taken back to the island and the people they rescued. She starts to wonder if this is about them, about Evan and that gear he had on his head... but no, the screen comes up and Bobbi turns her attentions to it.

Her look of annoyance softens and then her eyebrows furrow and her lips tighten as she reads over the information on the cryogenic sleep. It does take a moment for the patient to filter through her head, "Holy....shit." Yep, finished the swear word, who cares if Steve is anywhere nearby. "Where is she?" She notes that she is currently stable.. ish. Her eyes roam over the CRISPr concept being proposed and the cellular degradation from the Infinity Formula. "Wow." She turns away to give her eyes a chance to relax as her brain takes in the ramifications.

She sits back down on her chair and does a full 720 degree rotation to get her thoughts flowing. "But there's two problems here. Say we can reintroduce missing DNA using CRISPr, the existing infinity infection will just break things down again over time. Do we re-write the Infinity Formula using CRISPr too. I wonder if we could source some of her DNA from before she was exposed to the formula - then we could literally reset her back to before the damage began. Of course, such a diverse broad spectrum use of CRISPr has never been done before.." Now she's starting to look excited, "Director Carter," she says and looks to Dane, "She was one of the founders you know. The mother of SHIELD. She's an absolute legend. I thought she was dead, I mean, most people thought she was dead.. apparently not. Frozen. Wild!" She wriggles in the seat as she continues, "She's, quite figuratively, my hero."

She picks up Jane's tablet and starts to read over the mission report, the rescue of Peggy Carter and how they saved her life with an improvised defibrillator. "Punched the glass, gotcha." She says that flippantly, then double takes and narrows her gaze on Jane a moment, "Bad Jane. Look after yourself. You're important to us all." She hands the tablet back and looks to Simmons, "Well, what are we working on first. Do we have a prior sample or should I go find one or do you already have a better idea in mind?"

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    "Currently in the Medical wing, under surveillance. With the only medical doctors allowed to perform anything significantly more than take vitals and change drips currently in this room." And, to further drive the point home, another flick of the wrist lights up a second monitor. This one is a camera feed to one of the medical rooms, showing a sleeping Carter convalescing. With it is an overlay, showing the current vitals of Peggy. "Heartbeat is steady. Breathing is normal. At least, for now. But Jane is right. We only have a manner of days....a week at most, before the degradation is too far alone for any hope of repair."

    Then...those brown eyes lift up to Bobbi as Jemma truly focuses on her. "What do you know of project TAHITI?" Yes, there are others who might not be the proper clearance level for the actual name to be spoken out loud. But, Jemma has her medical doctor's hat on...and right now she trumps all clearance levels. "CRISPr can be used for this sort of thing. If I am not mistaken, elements of CRISPr was used in the creation of the serum that was part of TAHITI." There is a pause as Jemma shakes her head. "I always did hated that name. CRISPr. I could never understand why someone would want to name a gene therapy after a drawer in the icebox that you keep your fruits in."

    Should Bobbi actually know about project TAHITI, she might recall a certain young, supposedly brilliant biochemist that essentially re-defined the direction of said project, refining existing technologies with new research to form the backbone of the drug used to save a certain other high-level agent's life.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Well, I know enough about genetic engineering to be dangerous, but my Uncle, Nathan Garett, was near the top of the field a few years ago...helped develop the CRISPr technology and techniques, as a matter of fact. I've got a boatload of private notes and research from him. A fair bit of it is...probably not relevant, but he worked on some fairly radical ideas and uh...made a flying horse." Dane does look mildly uncomfortable at that before adding, "But I can have it here in a few minutes if we think it might help."

At Jemma's suggestion, Dane looks curious, but clearly he's never heard of Project TAHITI.

Jane Foster has posed:
"Picking up a non-degraded RNA sample is one thing, but we've got the problem that any existing genetic anomalies causing a deterioration in health will reoccur. We can't suspend those, especially if we have an imperfect sample." Jane frowns as she leans in against the table, taking a bit of strain off her hip. Hey, hitting a bulletproof pod is not exactly fun anywhere in the body and the pain medication she prefers, lower level, only does so much. "I'm going on a limb to say the infinity formula anything won't be easily reconditioned and has anyone ever examined what happens if we give a subject it more than once? There's no telling that it will overwrite the existing damage, is there? It might replicate based off that and create a monstrous situation with runaway damage." A mini cancerverse in a person! "Not to scare anyone, but there could be consequences in the longer term for hasty action now. We need something to stabilise."

She chews on her lower lip a bit, taking in some of the possibilities, discarding others mentally. "Quality of the sample will matter, as well as preservation status and the overall age. I don't suppose she ever had children?" Oh wishful thinking, but unfortunately her pinched brows suggest this route has its limits. "I don't know about TAHITI, other than a fantastic island getaway that's a bit too expensive to run to without a Quinjet or friends in Stark places, but I can roll myself out of here if you need."

Her smile is a bit wan, still; it holds an ember of hope for Jemma, which she gives freely. "Should we be worrying about blood types at this point for mass donations of plasma and other fluids? Or at this point, are you telling me this is my cue to go find a golden apple? Because I'm not sure I /quite/ qualify as that level of trusted friend, but... Never know until you ask the millennia-old guy with a great beard." And hope he didn't hear her deny him for a certain woman's life last night.

Nope.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
Bobbi looks over to the second monitor. Seeing her hero laying there in bed, fighting for her life. She frowns a moment and then looks around the room. At the mention of TAHITI she looks back to Jemma with a slight look of horror.. but she knows Jemma, which makes he wonder if Jemma knows what TAHITI stands for.. then again she did just crack a joke about CRISPr. It's almost as if she can't help herself, she has to say it, "clustered regularly interspaced short palindromic repeats"

Her eyes look back to Jemma searchingly and she gives her a 'are you sure' kind of look. "There's.. well to read you in on TAHITI... hmm." She looks around the room again adn then back to Jemma, "Level 10 clearance for this entire project and when Fury says jump I jump. Well, the fact that aliens exist is no secret any more.. but the fact that aliens have been interacting with us for a while now is. TAHITI stands for Terrestrialized Alien Host Integrative Tissue I. Using a talented young biochemists insights, a bunch of other talented scientists created a healing protocol using alien tissue integrated in to human tissue by rewriting their DNA."

She pauses for effect and looks around the room. "It worked?," she offers as consolation to the massive ethical problems caused by such a project. "But it was shelved because it also had a horrific failure rate. If you're proposing we re-activate TAHITI to save Director Carters life..." She nibbles on her bottom lip. She taps a few spots on her tablet and marks the TAHITI file as having been accessed by her, as required by a level 10 protocol discussion. She knows this is the kind of thing Fury warns her about when he says 'You don' want me to raise my voice, do you'.. "I'm not sure we've all discussed the implications of what we're talking about here... but even if we did take her to the TAHITI project, we'd still need donor DNA." Her eyes travel around the room again, "Though it does solve the problem of 'how do we do a broad spectrum dispersal of CRISPr' ... I grant you that. And we are desperate for time. And it would, in theory work."

Bobbi takes a breath, "We could do a quick test now, to find who has the most compatible DNA with Director Carter. No hesitations, let's just do it."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    There is a quite adamant shaking of the head as Jemma clarifies. "I am not proposing that we introduce alien DNA into Director Carter. Without knowing precisely what version of the formula referenced in the Director's file was introduced to her, nor the variables that precisely caused that particular version of the formula to fail...I sincerely do not want to experiment with extra-terrestrial agents as well." No...Jemma does not want to make Peggy part Kree, that's for certain. "We do not have the research time needed to consider all the implications of using such a method." The fact that it actually worked...the TAHITI serum that is....registers with Jemma with a shocked expression that she was not quite able to hide. It is apparent she didn't know that they actually took her research and made it happen, obviously.

    But...that doesn't stop Jemma from moving onward. In fact, it seems to bolster her resolve that the current situation is workable. "I propose that we attempt to rebuild the damaged DNA sequencing without the alien component. It would most certainly require donor, or donors, if one source is not adequate. We essentially need to put the missing pieces of the puzzle that is Director Carter's entire being back into place and hope that it takes hold. It may wipe the vestiges of the previous genetic tapering and restore her whole, or it may actually stop the degradation and give her what the formula should have. Either way, it needs to be done." A pause. "I can use my research on the project as a basis. The majority of work is there. It is a matter now of finding replacement ingredients, if we want to break it down to layman's terms."

    Which, given the people in the room, was not needed. But, it's habit for Jemma to do simple explanations for everyone else.

Dane Whitman has posed:
"You...introduced alien DNA into someone to bring them back to..." Dane shakes his head, expression not exactly disbelieving in the sense of skepticism that it happened, but more like "I can't believe you did that!" Regardless, he keeps that thought to himself.

"All right, if time is of the essence I don't mind donating a sample. Does she have any other family on record that's still around and could be reached in time?"

Jane Foster has posed:
So, there's that notation sitting at the bottom of Jane Foster's file living /somewhere/ in the archives of SHIELD about, you know, not dead yet. Not dead at all. Should be dead, given an island fell on her, but that island nation mostly confined to being totally obliterated and full of corpses has a not living corpse right there. A living corpse with an opinionated chunk of metal sometimes found wrapped around her wrist. "TAHITI," she repeats. "With a high failure rate could be a salvation or completely a crapshoot dealing with her. This is Director... Carter." She has to wrap that word around her tongue. Yes, she knows who it is, she has known for a while, but the point isn't sinking in so fast that it doesn't leave a trail of concern painted on her brow. "In a situation where the deterioration might be so bad, we don't have options other than the crapshoot options. We make it better or we make it worse. I have enough understanding to work with some of this, but I'm not the geneticist or scientist that," Mr. Sinister, "someone making an Ark project is. And we're talking an Ark project."

She draws in a deep breath, steadying her hand on the table. Jemma's words process fast. She understands enough of the medical side and the chemistry of Crispr to also think the name is terrible, a stupid acronym by science wonks who think they are funny. Then again, look at physicists and their names. ASTRO-varietals aren't much better. Her hand falls to the wayside. "In an ideal world, we pick and choose among the best candidates, don't we? But that gives less time, and we have to start looking at where the cut and pastes fall into place. Which ones we have to selectively remove, much less introduce to her."

Her frown deepens a bit as she edges around Tahiti space, stuck on the shore and contemplating. Dane's references earn a nod. "We might have her relations. They need to be young enough the copies and replicated RNA hasn't been corrupted. Age isn't always a friend. Time disadvantages us, with transporting them here." She closes her eyes. The weight on her wrist drags down, still defiantly under that splint. "Take what you need, if you need immediate donations. Sit me down wherever you want, I guess."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
    Crapshoot options tend to be the ones that work. Still, that does not necessarily sits well with Jemma. She does prefer to keep the shotgun troubleshooting down to a minimum. But, desperate times and all that. "If we know precisely where her relations, or offspring if we are lucky, are, then we might be able to use their genetic material to fill in the gaps. But that also means we can explain to them that their beloved family member, thought long dead, was actually placed in stasis for three decades. Do you want that conversation? Because I most certainly do not."

    There is a heavy sigh from Simmons, then a nod as she seems to reach a conclusion. "Right. Since everyone here is vetted...everyone gets to participate. With the various cultural representations here, we should be able to gather enough to produce a reasonable replacement for Director Carter. At least enough to slow the degradation, if not outright stop it, so that we have more time to determine if we really want to introduce other elements so late in the game."

Dane Whitman has posed:
"Fair enough." Dane replies, "Like I said, a blood draw is the least I can do to try to save someone's life." He adds, "Here's hoping it works, because it doesn't sound like we have a lot of time for alternative options."

Jane Foster has posed:
Crapshoot options will be explained later as 'at the discretion of the senior agent,' which isn't Dane and Jane neither qualifies. They can blame someone else. Maybe a Colonel. Maybe the ghost of Howard Stark. Jane's brow still remains puckered. "We have that, too. Reintroducing her to their lives would be more than a disruption, it could be a security disaster and a cause for great sorrow as much as rejoicing. This isn't a national hero dug out from the ice, and that already brought tremendous fanfare when it happened. I cannot make that call, Doctor Simmons, whether we do the right thing by denying them knowledge. It will have to be someone higher than us, but time like this is precious."

Her eyes close as she pinches her brow with her good hand, and then gently steps away to put her hand on Dane's shoulder. "You are a good man for doing this. Considering it. I wish there was more I could do to save her life other than sound like a doom crow, and I am sorry to be so negative." Her smile for him holds an ounce of encouragement and softness. "Here is knowing it will. I'm not so faithful as some, but there is always, always hope. She gave it to this country, which she didn't even belong to at first, for a good many years. Would we be living up to the fearless young Peggy Carter if we did not at least try and give her a fighting chance? I know she will make the most of it if we try this."

Pep talk city passed, she turns to face Jemma. "What do we need? And do you need me to do an extraction or have we an assistant roped in for that?"