...Twenty four hours ago. . .

. . . Medical surgery room . . .

There were people in scrubs around Quarty's body. Most of his body was covered except for the head as it was left unexposed. One of the doctors cuts away his scalp peeling it away while the former Q is out. So out that he hasn't been awake for the past few days. Fear were in the eyes of the Doctors. Afraid that the patient would wake up mid-surgery. Their eyes met each other.

"Ready to begin, Doctor Gonzales?" Doctor Coacho asked.

"I am ready," Doctor Gonzales said, nodding her head.

With what delicate process they had at the time to check up on the brain and perform a emergency cleaning. They cut away the skull then opened up to reveal what should be a squishy brain. In fact they saw something beyond their expertise. Doctor Coacho stared at it in disbelief.

They spent four hours cutting away into his head and finally they had an unexplained sight. The X-Rays had fooled them into thinking it was just a slight problem. It was George Bitterman's insistance that they opened up Quarty to find out what the hell is wrong with his brain. The Doctor's blink trying to understand if this was a hoax or real. They glanced to Quarty then pinched themselves. It was all too real.

There was eerie silence except for the heart monitor in the room.

"Is this covering this man's brain?" Doctor Coacho finally asked, looking up toward Doctor Gonzales.

"It appears so, Doctor Coacho." Doctor Gonzales said.

"His heart rate remains the same." Doctor Carly said.

Doctor Coacho glanced down toward Quarty's face.

"What have you been up to, daft old Q?" Doctor Coacho said. He looked back up. "Let's continue the operation."

Doctor Gonzales made the first cut.

But then something spat out right into her face. She wheeled back screaming about her eyes and how they burned. Panic set through the room full of Doctors employed by numerous other and federal people. Two other Doctors helped Doctor Gonzales out of the room leaving three Doctors in the room.

"What the hell is this creature?" Doctor Coacho said.

"Sir, should we be in hazmat suits?" Doctor Connor asked.

"No," Doctor Coacho said. "Non-meltal haz mats suits. Let's suit up."

The three Doctors went out then returned fourteen minutes later. They had on a strange kind of suit that seemed to be made out of a unique kind of metal. They were able to move freely. Doctor Coacho and his co-workers were determined to remove the strange mass growing inside Quarty's head.

"Sir, did you hear she lost her eyes?" Doctor Connor asked.

"I heard." Doctor Coacho said. "She would continue the work if it was me."

"Coacho," Doctor William said. "I brought the container."

"Let's get to work, boys." Doctor Coacho said.

It was a delicate and cautious process. Bit by bit they removed the mass. They made comments about the reptile quality of the venomious and acidous spit. Doctor Gonzales is on Ant-Venom treatment. The acid part was not a normal quality in reptile venom spit. Doctor Coacho looked up toward Doctor Connor.

"Does this remind you of an X-File?" Doctor Coacho asked.

"This isn't an X-File," Doctor Connor said. "This is a U-File. Unexplained."

"But the reptile part." Doctor Coacho said.

"The reptile was a shapeshifter, Coacho." Doctor Connor said.

"I know that . . . " Doctor Coacho said. "But could it be possible that some scientist bio-engineered some kind of virus specifically for this man?"

They had all but stopped on the operation.

"You are saying this man was targeted by a mad-man." Doctor Connor said.

"It is possible, but yeah." Doctor Coacho said.

"It makes more sense than him being abducted and left by aliens." Doctor Connor said.

"Can we save this man's brain and then talk about this theory afterwards?" Doctor William asked.

"You are right, Wiliam." Doctor Connor said.

They returned to the surgery in hand.

They were working on his brain for the next ten hours. From behind the window there stood George lighting up another cigarette where beside him is a blinded Doctor Gonzales. She could hear the small talk. George blew smoke out of the cigarette taking it out of his mouth. He seemed to be concerned otherwise.

"Care to tell me what the hell we are dealing with, sir?" Gonzales asked, wearing a white fabric around where her eyes should be.

"I do not know," George said, as a huge hunk of the mass was placed into a square plastic see-through container that aligned with the other containers on the table. "But I do intend to find out."

"Whatever it is; it is some reptile." Doctor Gonzales said.

"Reptile living in the head . . ." George said, then he puffed smoke out of the cigarette. "This is some kind of brain cancer that we just discovered."

"You heard the boys," Doctor Gonzales said. "That was bio-engineered. It is not natural."

George turned his head toward Doctor Gonzales putting the cigarette into his mouth puffing smoke out.

"I hate to see your reputation be tarnished because of your ties to a Communist nation." George said.

"So that is the cover story?" Doctor Gonzales asked. "One of our own just recently turned out to have brain cancer during a 'unplanned' surgery?"

"Yes," George said. "No one outside our work should know that Star Trek in fact exists and we have a former god here."

"He is no god!" Doctor Gonzales said.

"But people will think that!" George snapped. "Gods can hear our prayers, give us miracles, and give us advice. Quarty knows everything! They may call him a fallen god or the devil. He is no devil, Doctor Gonzales. He has done so much for us and now it is our turn to give our thanks."

"I see," Doctor Gonzales said. "You don't want him to die."

"What makes you think that?" George asked.

"Mercy." Doctor Gonzales said.

Doctor Gonzales turned away using a elongated walking stick to help her around. Naturally a woman shouldn't be walking around ten hours after losing her eyes. She would need some kind of therapy. George watched the woman walk away taking the cigarette out of his mouth. He had pity on his face. Pity toward a blind woman. Doctor Gonzales had scars around where her eyes should be due to the acid that had been shot out.