I disposed of it, more disgusted with myself than my physical reaction. I had wallowed in self-pity long enough.
“He won’t die,” I said, and stripped off my stained clothing before stepping into the cleanser. “I won’t let him.”
I returned to the Isolation unit within the hour. Dr. mu Cheft was now closely monitoring Kao’s condition, and relayed his status.
“Coma has proven resistant to all the usual methods of treatment,” he said. Lines of strain had appeared upon his badly flaking hide, especially around his deep-set eyes. “I won’t lie to you, Doctor. It doesn’t look good. The effusion is growing worse.”
“Any sign of the fluid I described?”
“None.”
“I’ll be in my lab. Please contact me... contact me if-“ I couldn’t put my worst fears into words, but mu Cheft understood and nodded. “Thank you, Daranthura.”
Back at the lab, I reviewed the previous days’ notes and tossed the data pad aside in disgust. I had to approach the contagion differently. I reorganized the charts and looked for similarities between case profiles. Similarities the database wouldn’t recognize, but I might.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered as I rapidly skimmed display after display. “There has to be something!”
Males, females, and alternate sexual genders had been affected. Symptoms differentiated from species to species, though from the dispersal of transmission, it had to be an airborne contagion.
“It can’t be.” I shook my head at my own theory. “The whole colony would be showing symptoms by now.”
What did all these cases have in common? All of them may have breathed it in. None of them except Karas died.
I tried an alternative hypothesis by establishing the sequence of infections. The first case had been Alun Karas. Through contact with him, Ecla and I had been exposed. Through Ecla, Rogan. Here was where the first break in the sequence occurred. Rogan had been infected, Ecla and I had not. Rogan in turn had exposed Paul Dalton, who had exposed the Engineering group. Kao Torin may have contracted it from one of them -
My sequence theory was full of inconsistencies. Rogan, for example, had treated dozens of patients as well as Dalton - why hadn’t the others been infected? I’d checked the shift schedules, Dalton had not gone back to work after Rogan treated him. That indicated he was infected before reporting for the back problem. I had no idea of Kao Torin’s movements over the preceding week. Who had infected him?
Me? Had my enhanced immune system made me a carrier?
Before I could fill in the gaps in my theory, I had to know if I was infectious. If I had been isolated with a healthy colonist... wait, I already had been. For an entire day on Caszaria’s Moon, with two of them. I’d had physical contact with both Reever and Dhreen.
“If I’m a carrier, they should already be exhibiting signs of the contagion.”
I sent orders to Assessment to schedule routine exams for both men immediately. If I had couched it as an emergency, I was sure to incur Dr. Mayer’s wrath.
Assessment signaled back to me. Both Reever and Dhreen had been given a routine medeval when we’d return from Caszaria’s Moon. No sign of infection had been found.
Impatiently I refiled my request to repeat the exams at once, and went back to sequencing the charts.
Dr. Mayer signaled me a short time later.
“Dr. Grey Veil, Pilot Dhreen is scheduled to launch within hours.”
“All the more reason to insure he has no sign of infection.”
“He has indicated a definite aversion to repeating the physical exam.”
“He would.” I forgot how tired I was and chuckled. “I’ll contact him directly.” I signaled Dhreen’s ship and waited for an acknowledgment.
When it came, it was audio-only. “Hey, Doc.”
“Dhreen? Isn’t your vid functioning?”
“You could say that.” He sounded tired.
“Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, good thing you did, or I would have missed my slot. Thanks for all the fun.” He made an odd sound. “See you on my next jaunt by.”
“Could you come over to the facility? I just want to check-“
“Sorry, Doc, but I’ve had enough things poked at me. I’m ready for some nice, quiet space.”
“Dhreen, it’s important.”
“So’s my route. Bestshot out.”
It took a minute for it to register. I was sorting through charts when my hands stilled. That rough burst of sound he’d tried to muffle. Not a hiccuping laugh, or an Oenrallian version of a sigh.
It had been a cough.
I punched a signal through to Main Transport, my fingertips rapping nervously on the console.
“Launch controller’s office,” I demanded as the automated system responded.
In a moment a gelatinous being stared back at me. “Launch Control.”
“Medical priority,” I said. “I want the Bestshot grounded. Cancel the launch slot immediately.”
The controller was a slow-spoken alien who displayed little surprise at my order. In fact, it practically yawned between sentences.
“Sorry, Doctor, he just took a voided slot. Bestshot is at escape velocity, and flightshielding has been initiated.”
That meant he was offplanet and I was out of luck. I pressed my hands against my burning eyes and terminated the signal. Dhreen had been grumbling, I tried to tell myself. Or choking an obscenity back.
Maybe it was a belch from eating too much, as usual.
But please, God, not a cough.
I was notified by Assessment that the chief linguist had agreed to report for a second exam. I was trying to think of how to phrase my concerns to Dr. Mayer when an emergency signal came in.
The lazy controller from Transport looked very alert now. I shot to my feet. “Dr. Grey Veil, Launch Control. We’ve got the Bestshot on tracking. She’s going down, fast.”
I thought of what a terrific liar my friend Dhreen was. “Where?”
“Botanical Project, North field. Section sixteen.”
“I’ll send medevac. Transport must use quarantine protocols, first level.” Mayer would kill me, but I didn’t care anymore. “Keep everyone else away from the shuttle.” Seeing his confusion, I demanded, “Are you listening? We’ve got to contain this!”
The controller was already shaking his head. “If there’s anything left to contain.”
I ran out of the lab, and directly into a small dark-skinned body. Geef Skrople’s powerful limbs steadied me at once.
“Hey, Doc, I just saw-“
“Later.” I grabbed one of his limbs and hauled him after me. “I need your help.” I explained about Dhreen along the way to the evac unit.
“Why do you need me?” the engineer was still unclear.
“Once the Bestshot comes down, Dhreen may be trapped in the wreckage. I can’t wait for heavy equipment if we have to get him out quickly.” I patted one of his limbs. “You’re better than having a grav-crane.”
Skrople and I accompanied the medevac team to the outer rim of the Botanical Project, when a huge explosion rocked the mobile unit. A ball of flame and smoke billowed from beyond the tree line - a tremendous, up-thrust fist.
“If that’s the shuttle,” Geef peered dubiously through the viewer, “we may not be able to get close enough to rescue your friend.”
“We’ll find him.” I leaned forward to shout at the driver. “Move it!”
Moments later we jumped from the unit and ran toward the crash site. Trees had been flattened from the impact blast, huge mounds of soil flung around, and in the center was a mangled heap that once had been a starshuttle. Smoldering chunks of metal were spread out over a half-kilometer radius. Fires flared everywhere. My eyes squinted against the smoke, searching for some sign of Dhreen.
One of the evac team yelled, “Over here!”
An enormous bubble of pitted plasteel lay half-embedded in the surface, still intact. An escape craft! I skirted a tangle of half-melted thrust emitters, followed by the team as we raced toward it. Someone produced a pry bar from the site kit and tried to lever it against the sealed door.
“It’s fused!”
“Geef!” I shouted, and saw the engineer was already moving.
Skrople scuttled over the pod to an exposed seam at the very top and shouted for everyone to move back. His limbs strained as he grasped the edge and began to work it loose.
There was an instant when something hissed, then another explosion rocked the ground. I felt a stinging sensation above my right eye, while an orderly standing beside me fell, clutching his side. The rest of the team was on the ground, covering their heads with their arms.
Internal pressure had reacted violently to the engineer’s breech and nearly split the bubble in half. I spotted Skrople, who had been thrown to the ground when the shrapnel pelted the rest of us. Apparently uninjured by the fall, the wiry alien clambered back up and peered into the exposed cavity of the cracked hull. I hurried over.
“Doc, he’s alive!”
I reached so that Geef could hoist me up beside him, and looked down. Inside, I saw Dhreen smile up at me through a mask of blood. Oenrallian blood, as bright orange as his hair.
“Doc...” he hiccuped, then coughed. The smell of not quite pineapple and chocolate stung my nose.
“Thought I . : . could get... offplanet before... it got me.” He moaned as we carefully worked him from the tangle and passed him to the orderlies on the ground. I jumped down beside Dhreen. His eyes fluttered, and he saw me again, focused on me. “Sorry... was scared.”
“Dhreen, when you’re better, I’m going to strangle you.” I moved my hands down his length, and called out, “Get the triage case over here, stat!”
One of the team appeared next to me with the supply kit and opened it, while I assessed the extent of Dhreen’s injuries.
“Multiple compound fractures in both legs. I’ve got a bleeder on the right thigh. Twenty ccs of adrenalisine.” A syrinpress was slapped in my palm, and I administered the stabilizing agent to prevent shock. I tore the flight suit material from his thigh and used the heel of my hand to slow the blood pumping from the wound. “Put pressure pads on that head wound, and get me an artery plug!”
I worked frantically, all the while talking to Dhreen to help keep him conscious for as long as possible.
“Why did you try to run, Dhreen? I’m not that bad a doctor, you know. Most of my patients survive.” I stopped flow from the severed artery in the thigh and got the bonesetters aligned. My own wound was seeping, and I wiped at the blood pooling on my eyelid.
“Couldn’t-“ He broke off into a spasm of coughing. “Couldn’t... take the... chance.”
“Hold on to me now.” I took his hand, and felt his fingers grip mine. “This is really going to hurt.” I reached down and activated the clamps that would immobilize his shattered legs. He arched, groaning as they contracted. “That was the worst part, I promise.”
“I... was right...” He tried to smile. “You... will... kill me.”
“I should kill you. You lied to me - worse, you scared the wits out of me!” I blinked and smoothed the orange tufts around his almost-ears. “Stubborn, foolish boy.”
“... Twice your... age,” I heard him mumble before he slipped into unconsciousness.
“That’s it,” I stood up and motioned for the litter. “Let’s transfer him now.” After wiping blood from ‘my eye with my sleeve, I went to see to the wounded orderly. I had to pull a chunk of metal out of his flesh before bandaging the gash. Skrople took my arm once I was finished.
“Doc - here, let me-“ He pressed a pad to my head. “Bad cut you got there.”
“Thanks.” Now I had to tell him. “Engineer Skrople - Geef - you may have been exposed to an un identified contagion. You’ll have to be isolated until we can check you out.” I took the pad from his hand and held it to the wound myself. “Sorry.”
He nodded, unconcerned. “Why don’t I stay here until Security arrives for site containment? They’ll suit me up, and I can warn off curiosity seekers until then.”
“Do that. And, Geef”- I smiled wanly while I wrapped a pressure pad around my head. “We couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks.”
As the Oenrallian was carried from the crash site, the rest of the team rapidly surveyed the area for any other victims.
“We’re clear,” I was told. “No one was on the ground when he crashed.”
One of the orderlies walking back by the tree line sneezed several times in rapid procession. Another standing close to me coughed heavily. I stared at them in dread. Was the contagion mutating? A decrease in the incubation period could mean onset in minutes versus hours.
We took Dhreen back to the mobile unit. While in route to the FreeClinic, my team and I donned biocontainment gear. I was beginning to hate those suits. Security was updated and ordered to isolate Skrople and anyone else having contact with Dhreen or the crash site. People were not happy. Dr. Dloh had already set up a full Isolation ward for Dhreen, the team members, and myself.
Thank God for large, smart spiders, I thought, as we hurried through the facility and sealed ourselves in the containment area.
“Pilot Dhreen makes the third case of unidentified contagion within specified limits according to the Charter,” I told Dloh via display as I stripped down. “I’m calling this one. Inform Dr. Mayer arid the staff. I want Colonial Administration notified now.”
“It will be done,” Dloh said.
I began to set up the surgical tray, and was half finished when I found Ecla’s capable appendages removing the instruments from my hands.
“Sterilize,” she told me as she continued the outlay. At my dazed stare, she undulated modestly. “I volunteered.”
“You’re risking your life!” I said, knowing it was futile anyway.
She gave me a stern look. “I’ve already been exposed. You know it, I know it.”
Ecla prepped Dhreen as I scrubbed. His legs were badly broken, the jagged edges of bone piercing through the flesh. I counted a dozen deep gashes and twice as many abrasions. I’d never operated on a friend before. I gloved and pulled my mask up, blinking back the tears.
“Please help me,” I said. No, that wasn’t right. Dhreen would have laughed at me, begging some omnipotent power to intervene. I got angry, thinking about it. God owed me. “If you let him die on my table,” I told the ceiling in a clear voice, “I’ll get even.”
Ecla laughed out loud. “You would, too.”