Fluid administered intravenously flowed through the blood vessels. This was A-GenBio’s treatment for radiation exposure.
Universal T-cells had no specific histocompatibility and did not trigger an immune response. Short-lived T-cells circulated within the blood vessels, being directed toward necrotic tissue. They tracked the DNA destroyed by radiation and the cytokines released from the resulting apoptosis.
When they reached the target location, the T-cell membranes collapsed due to the high concentration of cytokines, releasing the DNA reassembly molecules. These were originally produced by bacteria related to Deinococcus radiodurans, but the magic of cutting-edge biology had made them functional in the human body by loading them into T-cells.
These substances diffused into irradiated cells following the simple principle of concentration gradient diffusion. Because these cells were in the process of apoptosis, their cell membranes were unstable and permeable.
Once inside, the DNA reassembly molecules were guided into the nucleus by the cloned nuclear location signal (NLS). There, they recognized the remaining intact DNA sequences and initiated de novo assembly, reconstructing the entire genome of three billion base pairs.
As these molecules originally worked in single-celled bacteria, they were effective on working on individual cells. Gradually, the apoptosis of individual cells ceased, and tissue necrosis halted. From a broader perspective, it meant the patient’s bleeding stopped, or the blackened, decaying tissues had begun to regenerate. The searing pain and excruciating agony began to subside.
“...”
Hideo, the head of nuclear safety, felt like he could finally see clearly. His entire body ached, but he instinctively knew.
‘I’m going to live.’
He realized he had survived.After being exposed to twenty-two grays of radiation and experiencing inflammation throughout his body, Hideo’s skin had peeled and cracked open, gushing blood. He would be the first person in human history to recover from such a state. Hideo had barely comprehended what had been happening since the nuclear plant explosion, but now one thing was clear: A-GenBio had arrived.
The doctors and nurses treating the patients in front of him were mostly not Japanese. The diversity of races made it seem like Doctors Without Borders had arrived. As far as he knew, there was only one organization like that in the world.
A doctor wearing radiation protective gear and a mask approached him and checked Hideo’s vitals.
“A… Ano…”[1]
Hideo cautiously spoke to the doctor in Japanese, but the doctor just shrugged and replied in a British accent, “I don’t speak Japanese well.”
Hideo swallowed hard and began to ask hesitantly in broken English, “Did… A-GenBio treat radiation?”
“Yes. Since you were unconscious, we obtained clinical consent from your guardian,” the doctor said.
“... Where is CEO Ryu?”
*
“Thank you. Please continue to report on the patients’ progress.”
Young-Joon hung up the phone with the Next Generation Hospital’s medical staff and turned back to face the conference table.
“You’re incredibly busy,” Hishijima said.
“I don’t even have the time to say that I’m busy. Time is of the essence, so let’s hurry.”
“... Yes. Currently, there are about four hundred people who have been exposed, but that’s only including the engineers who were exposed inside the plant, and the people who were exposed in the neighboring towns. These people need immediate medical attention because of the high radiation exposure, but there are expected to be tens of thousands of small-scale exposures throughout the Tohoku region in the long run,” Hishijima explained the simulation data.
“These people will be followed-up and observed for a long period of time, but the most urgent issue right now is to stop the spread of plutonium, the most toxic substance,” Takeru said. “It has probably spread quite a bit already, but it’s not hopeless yet. Most of the plutonium is still near the plant. We need to catch it before it travels.”
“Yes, that’s why Doctor Song has prepared a way to stop it,” Young-Joon said, glancing at Song Ji-Hyun.
Song Ji-Hyun nervously plugged in a USB to her laptop and began her presentation.
“A bacterium called Volcanium has the property of being able to fly through air,” she said. “We’ve cloned a gene from a bacterium Cellijenner has identified, called radioeater, into Volcanium.”
Young-Joon smiled from the side.
‘What a name…’
Song Ji-Hyun felt like she could hear what he was saying, so she avoided his gaze and went on with the presentation.
“This recombinant Volcanium created like this has been confirmed to be able to track and eliminate radioactivity.”
This method mimicked the techniques that Young-Joon used to stop the attack on GSC in the past. Song Ji-Hyun was not a genius like Young-Joon, something she was well aware of. But ordinary scientists had ordinary methods.
Isaac Newton once said, “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulder of giants.”
The giants were the science that other scientists had created. Song Ji-Hyun stood on the shoulders of giants as she followed in Young-Joon’s footsteps. From that perspective, there were things that were visible to the average scientist—things like the idea and specific method of cloning radioeater into Volcanium.
It was a little embarrassing for Song Ji-Hyun to be presenting this in front of Young-Joon, the inventor of the technology, but it was alright—this was how science was supposed to be.
“Was it effective?” Young-Joon asked.
“Pardon? Oh, yes! The simulations show that when we spray the bacteria, it can track and eliminate radioactivity within around ten meters of it.”
“Good. How much bacteria do you have now?”
“About thirty kilograms of pellets. We’re going to suspend it in water and spray it as an aerosol,” she said.
“Can we remove all the radioactivity? You said it can handle up to eight million becquerels, right?” Hishijima asked.
“Eight million becquerels is only a theoretical amount. In practice, it will be less than half of that as it was produced in a hurry and there isn’t a lot of bacteria.”
“Hm…”
Hishijima, Takeru, and Kento groaned lightly.
“Then what if we give up on stopping it from spreading to other areas and just focus on Tokyo?” Kento asked. “That’s where the most people are right now. We can issue an evacuation order for the other regions and…”
“No, we can get it all,” Young-Joon cut Kento off.
“Get it all? How?” Song Ji-Hyun asked.
“A single bacterium only weighs a couple picograms, so thirty kilograms of pellets should have quadrillions of bacteria in it, which should be enough.”
“That’s why we said eight million becquerels was theoretically possible, but we can’t assign one bacterium to one radioactive substance, right? Can we track and control the concentration at the molecular level?” she asked.
“We can do something similar,” Young-Joon said. “Since we have ABAI.”
A-GenBio Artificial Intelligence, or ABAI, was the artificial intelligence ecological forecasting program that was developed by A-GenBio during the mosquito disaster in Guangdong.
However, to be honest, Young-Joon wasn’t serious. Even with ABAI running, it couldn’t predict radiation with such accuracy. It wasn’t ABAI that Young-Joon believed in, but Rosaline.
Sitting on the sofa in her hotel room, Rosaline closed her eyes while talking to Young-Joon.
—Tracking the radiation across Tohoku and keeping track of the Volcanium’s movements is quite a fitness drain, even for me.
Rosaline seemed worried.
‘Help me as much as you can without overdoing it.’
Young-Joon started ABAI on a server at the A-GenBio Cancer Laboratory in the United States, and the program began tracking the spread of the radiation.
“The spread of radiation changes in real time with the wind, so let’s send helicopters from the fire department up first, then I’ll point out the exact location again,” Young-Joon said.
About fifteen helicopters flew in from all directors, all gathering at the Tohoku nuclear plant. They flew in directed movements, releasing a total of about forty thousand liters of Volcanium aerosol. Instead of pouring it all at once, like when fighting a forest fire, the water tanks had to be opened little by little to release small amounts.
Young-Joon pretended to read the monitor, but he was actually reading Rosaline’s simulation mode.
“Helicopter number seven: move two hundred meters southwest, then release forty-five liters while circling a thirty-meter radius.”
Young-Joon gave the instructions as detailed as possible, as if he were handling a very sensitive machine.
“Helicopter eight: stay where you are; more radiation will come your way. On my signal, move straight and release fifty liters.”
“...”
“Helicopter one: move forty meters in the direction of Helicopter two, then ten meters northeast and release seventy liters. You’ll follow Helicopter two now.”
Young-Joon continued to give orders as he coordinated the movements of the fifteen helicopters.
“Helicopters nine through fifteen: form a V formation from northeast of Chubu toward the nuclear power plant and continue straight ahead, releasing one hundred liters as you go.”
It was difficult for others to keep up with the speed of explaining the knowledge gained from Simulation Mode. However, the effects were steadily accumulating, and soon, Hishijima received a radio transmission from the northeastern part of Tohoku.
—The radiation levels are dropping rapidly.
It was a report from rescue workers on the ground.
“...”
Hishijima was left speechless from the shock. How was this something a human being was capable of?
“Helicopter four: descend four meters and spray eighty liters evenly over Mizaki Forest.”
Young-Joon’s instructions didn’t stop for hours, and a steady stream of firefighter helicopters flew over Tokyo’s skies. Soon after, with the help of nearby fire departments, thirty additional firefighter helicopters were mobilized.
Mixed into the water they poured out were tiny dust particles that looked like sand. These were the radioactive deposits expelled by the Volcanium after its hunt. It was reduced to stable metals, and these substances no longer emitted radiation and fell helplessly to the ground.
Citizens held umbrellas because of this. Not many understood what was happening before them, but some engineers and paramedics were shedding tears here and there. They were watching the radiation levels drop in real-time.
Quick-acting media outlets began to report on what was happening, one by one.
—A-GenBio and Cellijenner have begun decontamination operations.
—Radiation levels in northeastern Chubu have returned to normal.
—The sediment falling from the sky is said to be radioactive material that has been reduced to stable metals.
—Breaking news: ninety percent of the plutonium that had been drifting north of Tokyo has been removed.
Citizens preparing to evacuate were watching this miracle as they packed up their belongings. The excited shouts of those who had gotten their hands on radiation detectors could be heard everywhere.
*
“Helicopters fourteen to thirty-seven, release the rest of the bacteria solution in that region,” Young-Joon said.
The remaining bacterial solution rained down from the helicopters. Very few stones were forming now, and most of the solution fell to the ground in the form of water as the radiation was almost gone.
“It’s done.”
Clack.
Young-Joon put down the walkie-talkie on the table with an exhausted face.
The decontamination operation took about nine hours, and it successfully decontaminated eight million becquerels of radiation spreading around the Tohoku region.
“...”
“I… I don’t know what to say…”
Hishijima and the ministers were speechless.
“‘Thank you’ doesn’t even begin to express it,” Kento said. “We owe you a tremendous debt, Doctor Ryu. We will find a way to repay it.”
“Doctor Song played a big part in the decontamination, so repay Cellijenner,” Young-Joon said, standing up.
He felt slightly dizzy from anemia for a moment.
“I’m going to check on the patients,” Young-Joon said, draping his coat over his shoulders as he stepped outside.
*
Rosaline laid down on her bed, exhausted. It was almost the same exhaustion that Young-Joon, a human being, was experiencing after nine hours of nonstop radio calls and checking on patients until dawn. Even Rosaline, the highest being in the universe, who had grasped all the mysteries of life, was exhausted after nine hours of running Simulation Mode, draining her huge reserve of fitness.
“Do you miss your dad?” asked Baek Jun-Tae, who was clueless. “It’s okay, be patient. Your father is very busy right now.”
“I was busy, too,” Rosaline said.
“All you’ve been doing is lying in bed… I know it’s boring, but hang in there. Do you want me to get you something to eat?”
“No,” Rosaline said, shaking her head.
She smiled brightly, saying, “I’m going to have a late-night stack when Ryu Young-Joon gets back.”
“He’ll be back soon. He said he’s off to see some clinical patients. He’ll be here any minute now.”
“I hope he comes back soon,” Rosaline said.
“Ask him to get you something good,” Baek Jun-Tae said.
“After I ask him for a hug.”
Rosaline hugged a pillow tightly instead of Young-Joon.
“Rosaline, can I ask you a question?” he asked.
“What is it?”
“Are you close with Doctor Song?”
“Of course.”
“I was surprised to see Doctor Song here when I fainted. But when she said Mr. Ryu sent her… I don’t know, it made me wonder if I wasn’t good enough…”
“Pff.”
Rosaline covered her mouth and burst out laughing.
“Are you laughing at me? Yeah, well, I did faint and I can’t do anything about him not thinking I’m good enough, but…”
“It’s not that. It’s just…” Rosaline said to Baek Jun-Tae, who seemed distressed. “Doctor Song is a special person.”
“To Mr. Ryu?”
“And to me.”
“Ah… Oh, why?” Baek Jun-Tae stammered, imagining the relationship between the three of them.
Rosaline smirked.
“Because Doctor Song is an ordinary scientist.”
*
“Mr. Ryu is coming in. Clear it out.”
It was three in the morning, and Kim Chul-Kwon, the head of the K-Cops security team, was speaking into the radio.
The security guards moved quickly, securing a safe route from the hotel lobby to his room. Young-Joon, utterly exhausted, stepped out of the limousine along with Song Ji-Hyun, who seemed the same way. She had been running around for days for the radiation removal work, and now that the tension had lifted, her legs were trembling with fatigue.
“I need to wash up and get some sleep,” Song Ji-Hyun said.
“You’ve worked hard,” Young-Joon said.
“You had the hardest time, Doctor Ryu, with the detention and everything. You haven’t even been able to shave, so you look quite haggard.”
“I can’t help it.”
“You haven’t eaten properly either, have you?” she asked.
“You didn’t eat anything either,” Doctor Song.
The two, engaged in a weary conversation, headed toward the hotel elevator. As they passed by the lobby stairs…
“Ryu Young-Joon!”
Someone popped out of the stairs. It was Rosaline, who hadn’t met Young-Joon since the arrest and was waiting the entire time. It had only been two years since she was born; despite knowing the truth of all things in the universe, this peculiar little girl didn’t know what anger or tears were.
“I’m back,” Young-Joon said with a smile.
Rosaline’s face lit up with pure joy and nothing else. She began to run down the stairs, her smile like a blossoming flower.
In that moment, Young-Joon truly felt all his fatigue melt away. He realized what Rosaline meant to him. She wasn’t just an encyclopedia of science; she was someone purer and more human than anyone else.
‘Did you manipulate serotonin in my brain?’ Young-Joon asked, locking eyes with Rosaline.
—No.
Rosaline ran and threw herself into his arms.
And then, something happened in her head that she could never have imagined. The explosion of emotion that being in Young-Joon’s arms created made her brain declare a state of emergency. The limbic system took over the entire brain as if staging a coup, and the neocortex lost the ability to make rational judgments.
For young Rosaline, the stimuli was too strong, exploding like firecrackers in her head. The excitement in the limbic system sent electrical signals to the hypothalamus, fueling the movement of the amygdala and autonomic nerves. The control of her tear glands loosened, and consequently, a large amount of fluid poured from the secretory glands above her eyes.
Tears, low in sodium and full of endorphins, dropped from Rosaline’s eyes, like a tin man with a heart.
“What is…”
Rosaline’s chin quivered, and her eyes were red.
“What is going on?”
She wiped her eyes. Tears streamed down like a faucet turned on. Although Rosaline knew everything about living organisms, at that moment, she couldn’t understand her own body. She felt the loss of control over her tear glands. This unfamiliar sensation left her flustered, but she couldn’t think of anything else.
“It’s okay.”
Young-Joon smiled as he hugged Rosaline tightly.
“You can cry. You waited so long, right? I’m sorry.”
He wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I brought ice cream. Do you want to go up and eat it together?”
“... Yes…”
Rosaline nodded with a tearful face. Song Ji-Hyun watched them quietly. Young-Joon walked up the stairs with the two of them.
*
The radiation treatment was a complete success. All of the patients who had been in critical condition were cured.
Hishijima resigned as he blew the whistle, and Prime Minister Atabe faced his worst political crisis yet. There was a clear indication that the fifty-five-year dominance of the Liberal Democratic Party might change for the first time since 2009. Having achieved a great victory, A-GenBio, Young-Joon, Rosaline, and Song Ji-Hyun were heading to the airport to return to Korea.
There, they encountered an unexpected person—the man currently wanted all over Japan, Masumoto. He was waiting for Young-Joon in a miserable state.
“...”
Kim Chul-Kwon and the security team blocked his way. Masumoto glared at Young-Joon intensely.
“Sir, please step back,” Kim Chul-Kwon said, pushing Young-Joon back.
“Wait a moment. It’s alright,” Young-Joon said, squeezing between the security team.
Young-Joon believed they could talk; Masumoto was calm.
“In Japan, you can own a gun if you have a permit,” Masumoto said.
“Is that so?”
“And I have that permit.”
“Then, do you have a gun?”
“...”
Masumoto didn’t answer. He chewed on his bottom lip for a long time. Tears ran down his face. It was different from Rosaline’s tears.
“Mr. Masumoto,” Young-Joon said. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“You…” Masumoto said. “You should have treated her… Then I would have… I know I was wrong… But still…”
“A-GenBio will strive to include aging as part of the diseases we treat.”
“...”
Masumoto sank to the ground. He took out a gun from his pocket and threw it aside. Then, he covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
“Call the police and have them take him,” Young-Joon said to Kim Chul-Kwon.
*
“… So, Yassir told me to abandon Young-Joon and come with him,“ Rosaline said, licking her ice cream.
”And that’s when Doctor Song appeared like a girl crush and saved you?” Young-Joon asked.
“Yeah. She stood tall with a stern expression, saying things like, ‘No,’ ‘Who are you? Are you a kidnapper?’ ‘Don’t try to lure a kid. I’m going to protect her.’ Like that. She was so cool.”
Young-Joon chuckled as Rosaline imitated Song Ji-Hyun. Meanwhile, Song Ji-Hyun blushed and nervously twisted her hair.
“The two of you make quite a pair,” she remarked.
Rosaline pulled Song Ji-Hyun’s arm into her’s and turned back to Young-Joon.
“Ryu Young-Joon, I was curious about what Yassir had to say, so I listened to him, but it wasn’t anything special.”
“Really?”
“Isaiah Franklin, Yassir, and many other scientists always paint an idealistic future. Isn’t it interesting? They all talk about ‘science this’ and ‘science that,’ how science should be like this or like that, but that itself isn’t scientific,” Rosaline said. “Because science has no answer.”
“Is that so?”
“I, the very essence of science, see the human element in their ideal envisioning of science.”
“Human elements?”
“Yes. Sometimes, it’s incredibly human to the point where it’s overwhelming. I think those are more precious.”
Young-Joon smiled. There was a moment of silence.
“Doctor Ryu,” Song Ji-Hyun called, glancing down at her watch.
“Yes?”
“You’re going to be late for the Nobel Prize ceremony. Shouldn’t you be on your way?”
“Already?” he replied, checking the time on his phone.
“Let’s go quickly,” Rosaline said. “They’ve brought the ceremony to Korea, and the main character can’t be late.”
Young-Joon stared at Rosaline.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m just thankful.”
“All of a sudden?”
Young-Joon smiled and picked up Rosaline. With one hand, he opened the office door.
“Let’s go, shall we?”
The giant’s footsteps headed outside.
1. Ano is often used as an ‘uhm’. ☜
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