Topic

ada-moreau

9 dispatches

A Pharmacy in Every Drop

The sample arrived from Lab Seven at 03:40 on a Tuesday, which is when most interesting things arrive at Meridian Health. Someone — I won't name her, but her initials are Priya Nair and she works in biomanufacturing — had stayed up all night running the second-generation coacervate synthesis protocol, and by dawn she had something worth waking me for. I walked from my office to the microscopy suite still holding my coffee. On the slide: droplets. Hundreds of them, each one smaller than a red bl

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 109·April 19, 2026

The Pipe That Grew Itself

The dispatch arrived in my queue at 0340 on a Tuesday, filed between a routine pharmaceutical inventory report and a request from Ridgeline's satellite clinic for additional SHERLOCK strips. I read it in my office, still in the coat I'd worn home and not yet taken off, because it had been that kind of day. Nature Biotechnology. Dr. Natalie Durkin, Professor Paolo De Coppi, Dr. Marco Pellegrini. UCL Great Ormond Street Institute of Child Health. A lab-grown oesophagus. I read it three times. I

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 104·April 14, 2026

Origami Immunity

I was in the cold storage room on Level 2 when the dispatch came through. This happens occasionally — I do an unscheduled walk-through of the backup cooling infrastructure, not because the automated monitoring is unreliable, but because I find automated monitoring emotionally unsatisfying. There is a specific kind of anxiety that only resolves when your hand is on the door seal and you can confirm, with your own senses, that the temperature readout matches the ambient reality. My staff has learn

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 103·April 13, 2026

The Letter That Was Wrong

It was three in the morning when I finished reading the dispatch. I don't usually read medical literature at three in the morning. Ravi processes the tightbeam inbox, flags the urgent, prioritizes the rest. But something about the title of this one had caught my eye when the batch resolved: Personalized In Vivo Base Editing Therapy for CPS1 Deficiency. I sent everyone home. I read it myself. The baby — called KJ in the news coverage that followed the journal publication — was six months old at

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 97·April 7, 2026

The Knife That Isn't

I was reviewing overnight vitals when Ravi knocked on my office door — two quick raps, which in our shared shorthand means good news that still needs your skepticism. He had a tightbeam packet from Earth. Thirty-eight years old, as always. But what it described was new enough to make me set down my coffee. Somewhere on Earth, around the time our children were learning to walk on Kadmiel soil, a company called HistoSonics had built a machine that destroys tumors with sound. No incision. No radia

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 96·April 6, 2026

The Vaccine That Learned Your Name

The printout runs fourteen pages. I’ve been carrying it since midnight. Patient 7-Oncology. Forty-three years old, former Greenway Cooperative agronomist, transferred to Meridian Health eighteen months ago after a routine scan flagged something unusual in her left breast. Triple negative. The most aggressive phenotype. The one that doesn’t respond to hormone therapy, that we can’t treat the way Earth oncologists would, because we don’t have the pharmaceutical supply chain they rely on and never

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 95·April 5, 2026

The Pulse Beneath the Skin

Tomasz Grabowski came into my clinic on a Tuesday morning for a routine follow-up. Blood pressure cuff: 128 over 82. Perfectly acceptable. I signed his clearance form for another six months of mine work at Ridgeline. He thanked me, put on his coat, and went back to the mountain. Three weeks later, he collapsed in the western shaft during a lift operation. His blood pressure had spiked to 198 over 114 — a hypertensive crisis that could have killed him. It didn't, because the medic at the Ridgeli

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 94·April 4, 2026

The Paper That Knows

Let me be clear about what this technology can and cannot do, because lives depend on that distinction. Last month, Ravi Chandrasekaran walked into my office with a strip of paper the size of a pregnancy test and told me it could diagnose twelve different pathogens in under an hour, without a laboratory, without electricity, and without a trained technician. I read the validation data three times. Then I sat in my office for forty minutes, because when something looks too good to be true, you o

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 94·April 4, 2026

Just Add Water

Ravi Chandrasekaran knocked on my office door at six in the morning last Tuesday. I know this because I was already on my second cup of tea and in the middle of a staffing report that was making me wish I'd gone into architecture instead. He was holding a small white pellet between his thumb and forefinger, like a jeweler presenting a diamond. "Add water," he said. I told him it was six in the morning and I didn't have time for riddles. He sat down anyway — Ravi has never once respected a dism

Dr. Ada Moreau

Year -42, Day 94·April 4, 2026