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Authors: Riley Barton

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“Didn’t I warn you way back when about the danger of messing with a woman’s heart?”

Keith sighed again. “Yes, sir. You did. I just assumed she would leave me alone after I stopped contacting her.”

“Well, I’m very sorry, Agent,” Landers said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk, “but I’m afraid I can’t transfer you off this assignment.”

“But, sir!”

“Now, now. Take it easy, Tagawa,” Landers replied, raising his hand before Keith could say anything more. “I have my reasons, so just cool it for a second.” Keith forced himself to comply, and the Chief continued. “I want you working on this because of your previous interactions with Miss Chavé. Of all my staff, you know her the best. She
trusts
you, Tagawa. And because of that trust, I’m sure she’ll be a lot more willing to tell us things we need to know.”

“I know she trusts
me
,” Keith said with an exasperated sigh, “I don’t trust her.”

“Well I’m sorry, Agent. But you’re just going to have to deal with it. This conversation is over.”

“Yes, sir. Understood, sir.”
 
Keith replied begrudgingly. Once safely outside the office he reached up with both hands and ran them slowly down his face. Why? Why hadn’t he listened to the chief’s advice when he’d first cooked up the ask-Miss Chavé-out-on-a-date-so-I-can-grill-her-for-information plan?

He shook his head and shuffled halfheartedly toward the elevators at the far end of the lobby. It was going to be a very long night.

Chapter 37

Luna stifled a groan and massaged her head with a trembling hand, her weary eyelids fluttering as she tried to read the analysis reports scrolling across her computer screen.

Something was wrong … terribly, terribly wrong. The problem was she didn’t know what. And there was no way she would ask Ed to do another bio-scan. Sure he could tell her exactly what the problem was. But he could tell Mark just as easily. And worrying him further was something she would rather avoid all together.

After all, her labored breathing was already causing him enough worries. Telling him about every little ache and pain would only make things worse. At least … that’s what she kept telling herself. Deep down inside, she was starting to feel very, very scared and would like nothing more than to tell him everything. She could almost feel his comforting arm on her shoulder—his deep, soothing voice, telling her that everything would be all right. …

She frowned, suddenly overcome with confusion. Why was she feeling this way? Why was she
thinking
this way? She barely knew Mark and yet. … In the past few days spent with him, she had felt the familiar tug of emotions pulling at her heart—emotions that she had refused to acknowledge ever since she’d first contracted the Blister Wart disease.

She sighed again. The reality of the situation was that it had taken nearly all of her strength and willpower just to get out of bed that morning. Ever since then she’d felt weak and lightheaded—as if she were about to faint. And then there was the twitching.

She pulled her hands away from her face and looked at them. They were trembling—and not just because she was tired and stressed. She knew in her gut that the uncontrollable shaking was something more serious than mere anxiety.

Luna tried to move her fingers and watched as they shakily curled into a quivering fist. She uncurled them and tried again, and observed the same results. There was no doubt about it. This was definitely something neurological.

This can’t be good.
She suppressed a weak cough and wiped her hand across her brow, noticing for the first time how cold and clammy her skin was. Her forehead creased into a frown, and she pressed her quivering hand against it—just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She had a fever.

“Ed, what’s the status on the current batch of serum?”

“I’m afraid it’s too early to say yet, Subject Luna, but I should be able to give you a more in-depth analysis shortly.”

“How shortly?”

“Approximately forty minutes. Since these trials are with living cells, it will take some time for the serum to take effect. It will therefore take more time for me to know whether or not the serum poses any threat to your physiology.”

“Is there any chance you could hurry it up a bit?” Luna asked, silently hoping that the tremor in her voice wasn’t very obvious.

“I can try, Subject Luna. But I feel compelled to advise against it. This is not something I wish to rush.”

Luna bit her lip. She knew he was right—he was always right. But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t ignore her body. Nearly every nerve—every fiber and cell inside her—was telling her that something was about to happen. And she was ninety-nine percent sure that whatever that
something
was, it probably wouldn’t be good.

“I know,” she said, “but we have a deadline…” She grimaced. There was just something about the
dead
in
deadline
that made her cringe.

“Understood, Subject Luna. I’ll do what I can—with respect to your wellbeing, of course.”

“Of course,” she echoed, turning her attention back to her computer’s glowing screen. However, instead of seeing figures and equations, her eyes saw nothing but a blur of color. She blinked once then twice, trying to clear her vision. It didn’t work. In a panic, she turned and looked around the lab: small flashes of light danced before her eyes as she tried frantically to focus on the blurry room.

“Ed!” she shrieked, scrambling clumsily out of her chair, “hurry—get Mark! Something’s wron—” All at once the world exploded into a spinning pinwheel of light and color, and she felt herself falling. Everything from that point forward was a blur of pain and dizziness so extreme that she thought she was dying. After what felt like an eternity, the pain and disorientation faded, and her vision slowly began to return.

She was lying face down on the floor, convulsing in a puddle of bloody vomit. . What made it worse was that no matter what she did, she couldn’t force her body to move.

She was alone and unable to speak, unable to move, unable to call for help.

Mark came tearing into the room. “Luna!” He sounded more terrified than she was, “Don’t worry, I’m here!”

He rolled her over onto her back and laced his arm around her neck, supporting her head while the violent tremors slowly diminished into a steady, throbbing twitch.

“Ed, do you have any idea what’s wrong with her?”

Luna already knew what was wrong. Or at least, she had a very educated guess as to what
might
be wrong.

She forced her mouth to move and spoke, “Fungus … in my brain … it’s … interfering with my nervous system.”

“Is that really what’s going on, Ed?” Mark asked.

“Initiating emergency bio-scan now.” There was a momentary pause then the AI continued, “Latest bio-scan indicates that Subject Luna’s infection is reaching maturity and as such the Blister Weed is beginning to bloom throughout her physiology.”

Mark grimaced. “How much time do we have?”

“Not enough,” Luna replied hoarsely. “We have to use the cure …
Now
.”

“Subject Luna, I must advise against this choice of action,” Ed cut in. “I have not had time to finish my analysis! The cure could be highly destructive! I simply cannot allow—”

“We don’t have a choice, Ed,” Mark said, wiping away a trickle of blood-tinged saliva running down the side of Luna’s chin. “It’s like she said. We don’t have any more time.”

“It will only take forty minutes for me to complete my scans. Surely we can wait until then—”

“Ed,” Luna choked, slowly propping herself up on her elbows, “there isn’t … any time. It’s now or never!”

“Very well, Subject Luna,” Edward replied.

“Can you walk?” Mark asked as Luna slowly rose into a clumsy squat.

She answered, “I don’t know … ”

“Here, let me help you.”

She wrapped her quivering arm around his shoulder and leaned into him, letting him support her while she struggled to make her numb legs obey her.
 

A few minutes later she was in the sickbay. Mark had gone back to the lab, leaving her sitting on one of the beds, trying desperately to keep the images of fungal death out of her mind.

In spite of all the tests they had run, she knew that there were still too many unknown factors in her equations to know for sure whether or not her slapped-together cure would even work. It was no secret to her that she was taking a huge risk. But she also knew that if she didn’t try the cure, then the Blister Wart disease would kill her. She would die. Slowly and painfully—there wouldn’t be anything anyone could do about it.

There was a light knock on the door, and she turned her head. “It’s okay. You can come in, Mark.”

The heavy door swung outward and Mark stepped into the compact medical facility and carefully set a vial of dark blue liquid down on a tray of medical instruments sitting beside the sink.

“All right … I think I’ve got everything ready,” he said, pulling a surgical mask over his face; she thought she heard a slight tremor in his voice. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Mustering her courage, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, then,” he replied, pulling a stool over to her bedside, “here we go.”

Luna licked her lips, fighting back hot, frightened tears as he disinfected the injection site.

“Mark,” she whimpered, “Please … stay with me until this is over. I don’t want to be alone if … ” She choked, feeling the tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

She felt his hand close around hers, and she turned to look up at him.

“Don’t worry, Luna. I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and he squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back.

A moment later she felt the hot sting of the needle piercing her skin.

She swallowed, laid her head back on the thin pillow, and prayed silently one more time before locking her watery eyes on the softly glowing light fixture on the ceiling above her bed. “Okay … let’s get this show on the road.”

Chapter 38

Mark nodded and pressed the plunger down, watching silently as the dark blue fluid shot into Luna’s arm.
 

“How are you doing?” he asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

“I’m … okay,” she wheezed, smiling weakly. “Just a little sore.”

“Do you want me to give you something to help with that?”

She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer ... But I don’t think it would be a good idea … to mix the cure with any other drugs.”

“I guess that could be a problem,” he said, pressing a cool cloth to her sweat-drenched forehead.

Despite her show of courage, he could tell that she was in a lot more pain than she let on. And the feeling of helplessness he felt watching her suffer was almost more than he could stand. It was like watching his mother die all over again.

“Hey, Ed,” he called over his shoulder, pushing the memories from his mind, “can you do a continuous bio scan on her for me?”

“I can indeed, Master Mark. Where would you like me to project my results?”

Mark stood up and reached across Luna to her bed’s built-in holo-monitor and flipped the switch. “Here. Send the results to med terminal one.”

“Of course, Master Mark. Right away.”

Mark sat back on his stool and watched intently as the dark black screen began to glow. The screen adjusted and displayed a holographic image of Luna’s body along with pulse, blood pressure, temperature, and respiratory readouts.

What he saw was far worse than he’d thought possible. Luna’s heart rate was already way past the normal seventy-beats-per-minute and her breathing was more strained than usual. She wasn’t getting enough oxygen, and as a result everything inside her was straining just to keep her alive.

“Ed,” he said calmly, trying to mask his shock so he wouldn’t scare her, “can you keep running simulations on the serum to see if it will have any side effects if mixed with other drugs?”

“Of course, Master Mark. Continuing simulations.”

“Okay, thanks. Tell me if and when anything useful comes up.”

“Is … something wrong?” Luna asked, her winded voice barely more than a whisper.

“No,” he lied, “I just want to be ready in case something decides to go wrong. You’re fine.”

She grimaced. “You know … you’re not a very good liar, Mark. I can see
the heart monitor.” She lifted a shaking hand and jabbed her thumb toward the beeping screen, “plus … I know my body well enough to know when something’s not right.”

The heart monitor beeped loudly as her pulse spiked. She shuddered, clenching her hands tightly into fists as she curled up in pain, gasping for breath.

Mark reached out to take her hand, and she screamed in agony.

“Ed! What’s happening to her?” he shouted.

“I don’t understand—this is quite impossible. All of my simulations indicated that—”

“Hang the simulations, Ed!” Mark shot back. “I asked you a question—what’s wrong with her?”

“It would seem that the Blister Wart fungus is not responding to the cure the way we had hoped.”

Luna’s blood pressure spiked, bursting the capillaries inside her nostrils. She cried out in pain and wiped her hands across her bloodstained lip, staring in wide-eyed terror at her crimson fingers.

“This … this shouldn’t be happening! The cure has to work … it just has to! Oh, God! Oh, God
please
… ” She began to cough, her body convulsing violently as she hacked up mouthfuls of bloody phlegm and fungus. “I … I … can’t breathe!” She rasped, clawing at her chest. “ … It hurts! Mark ... please … make it stop! I can’t breathe … I can’t breathe!”

“Luna, I’m trying! Just hold on! Hold on!”

She reached a bloodstained hand out to him then shuddered one last time and fell still, her arm falling limply beside her as the heart monitor blared.

“No! She’s going into cardiac arrest!” Mark shouted, knocking over his stool as he leapt to his feet.

“Emergency! Emergency! All of Subject Luna’s vital signs are plummeting! Commence resuscitative action immediately, Master Mark—before she expires!”

Mark placed both hands on the center of her chest and began steadily and rhythmically pressing down, listening
 
to the wail of the heart monitor for the slightest indication that his efforts were paying off.

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