Star Cruise - Outbreak (10 page)

“Confirmed, Doctor.” The Ship’s voice echoed a bit in the gravlift.

“Sits wrong with me not to nail down the details.” Jake was stubborn. “We need to take action, do something more than hold classes and wipe down furniture, don’t we?”

“Arln’s not even Patient Zero.” Seeing Jake frown, she explained. “He’s not the first person to have the norovirus on board. We don’t know who the first person stricken was.” Emily took a deep breath. “I sympathize with your desire to take action and I appreciate the sentiment, believe me but it’s no use in a case like this. The norovirus is more or less everywhere on board, easy to catch, not stemming from a single source point. We can only keep the ship clean, treat the symptoms, let the virus run its course.” She could tell he wasn’t satisfied yet. Touching his arm gently, she said, “You know can trust me to do whatever is medically necessary. Spending my time and resources on other things that aren’t won’t help anyone.”

He had a frown on his face but didn’t argue further, just directed Emily to step off on the proper deck and escorted her to the trid stars’ suite.

Emily and Liora met privately in the sumptuous bedroom, while Jake and Sid Daburkn talked sports in the sitting area. An assistant and a trideo camera operator sat at a table in the corner, playing cards. The actress was pale, which emphasized the dark shadows under her eyes. “I’m predictably nauseous the first few days of traveling at hyperspeed,” she said, rubbing her abdomen. “But this is excessive. I haven’t been able to keep anything down today.”

“You should rest after I give you the Galamialate,” Emily advised. She frowned at her scanner and redid the readings. “Hold on a minute. No Galamialate for you, I’m sorry.”

“But, Doctor, I have commitments. I have to be in the casino in two hours. We’re filming a segment of the infotainment special there with the ship’s dance troupe. That’s why I called you—the show must go on, you know. It’s not merely a nice slogan—we have a contract to fulfill.” Liora twisted the blanket in her trembling hands. “Can’t you give me something to relieve this nausea? Give me an energy boost?”

Emily hesitated, but there was no easy way to broach the topic. “Are you aware you’re pregnant?”

Tears glistening in her eyes, Liora nodded. “I hoped I might be. We’ve been trying for some time now. Sid doesn’t know yet.”

“I won’t tell him unless it becomes medically necessary. But you can’t have Galamialate, which can cause birth defects in Terran-descent humans. Have you been pregnant before?”

“Not to my knowledge. We’ve had no luck at all. Until now, apparently.” Liora’s smile grew but was only a pale imitation of the glowing expression she was known for across the Sectors. “I’m from a big family and so is Sid. We’ve wanted children so badly.” She laughed. “You must not read the gossip feeds. The story of my infertility has been a headliner for the past two years. Ever since we got married.”

“I’ve been pretty much immersed in my own life.” Frustrated at her lack of direct experience in obstetrics after one rotation in med school years ago, Emily thumbed through the reference library on her personal AI. “I’m afraid my clinical training on pregnancies is limited. I was a military doctor on the frontlines. Blaster burns, trauma from explosions and the like. Not much here for morning sickness.” She asked a few questions about other symptoms and performed a more detailed exam than she’d planned. “The pregnancy appears to be progressing well. No issues there. My diagnosis would be nothing more than a mild case of the norovirus compounded by morning sickness.”

“All-day-and-night sickness.” Liora grimaced, rubbing her stomach. “She must take after me, hates space travel.”

“She?” Emily glanced at her scanner and smiled.

Liora held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I’m old-fashioned and I want to be surprised. Until the birth, I’m going to think of the baby as she. I’ve dreamed of having a little girl.” The actress frowned. “The gossips would pay a fortune for this story.”

“I’ve had some experience with being hounded by the media myself,” Emily said. “You’ll have nothing but sympathy on that score from me.”

“Oh right, you’re the Angel of Fantalar. I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“I wish
I
could.” Emily withdrew a small dose of a brilliant blue inject from the pharmaceutical store in her kit. “This won’t harm the baby and should relieve your symptoms for a few hours. You have to promise me you’ll eat, carbohydrates would be best, and you have to stay hydrated. Are you taking prenatal supplements?”

“Will the inject leave a mark?” Clutching her pale blue robe, Liora shifted away from her.

“It might.”

“Can you inject it into my thigh, then? The gossips would have a field day screaming I was doing illicit feelgoods if I’m seen with an imprint mark. I know CLC swears the cruise staff will be discreet, but there are too many prying eyes.”

Emily administered the inject where Liora indicated. “Are you sure you can’t skip this whatever it is at the dance venue today?”

Liora rose, going to the vanity, and selected a hairbrush from the clutter spread over the surface, stroking it over her lustrous pink and mauve mane. “I know you must think we’re rich, being trideo stars, but I only just hit the big time with the Gantaran Fairy Queen franchise. My husband prefers to make his own trids, which the critics praise, but unfortunately practically no one sees, although everyone claims to be a fan.”

“He wins awards. I’d almost think that was part of his name—‘award-winning’ Sid Daburkn.” Emily tried gentle humor.

“Yes, but our production company doesn’t begin to earn back the sunk costs. We have expenses you wouldn’t believe. No one gets far in the trid industry these days without a lot of favors being exchanged, a regiment of people having their hooks into you. Well, maybe for the people in the top tier, the business is different. I hope I find out someday.” Liora’s expression this time was closer to the vids and stills of her that appeared in the much-maligned media. “So we got to travel in style on this ship in exchange for doing an infotainment special about the fabulous time we had on board and all the exciting features. Mutual promotion.”

“So the beach yesterday—”

“And the dance show today. Right. I have to do a routine with the cast, and my husband is going to sing. My first paying gigs were as a dancer, a long time ago.” The actress began applying makeup, her voice growing stronger and more vibrant with each stroke of the applicator. “Say, this stuff you gave me is nothing short of miraculous, Doc. I’m better already. When can I have the next dose?”

Repacking her kit, Emily frowned. “Tomorrow. Once every twenty-four hours at most and only for a few days. I don’t advise you dancing.”

“Will it hurt the baby if I do?” Eyes wide, hairbrush forgotten, the actress stared at her in the mirror.
 

“No, but the medication is only masking the symptoms temporarily, an artificial improvement. You need to rest and hydrate. Promise me.”

“I swear. One little spin around the stage to satisfy the sponsor, and then I’m done.” Liora winked. “The vitamins are tricky—I don’t want word getting out before I have to announce the pregnancy.”

“I’ll have them delivered discreetly, I promise. And no one will have access to your medical record but myself and the Ship’s AI. We have a strict privacy protocol in place.” Leaving her revitalized patient, Emily rejoined Jake and Sid in the outer room. “I’ve given her something to temporarily relieve the nausea and other symptoms,” she said. “But as her doctor, I strongly advise against too much activity in the next few days.”

“I see she told you we’re going to perform this afternoon,” Sid said. “My wife’s a trouper. She’ll be fine.”

“Are you having any symptoms yourself?”

“Space travel agrees with me,” he boasted. “I’m rarely sick under any conditions.”

“I hope your good health continues,” Emily said. “Call me directly if anything changes with your wife. The Ship can connect you straight to me, any time of the day or night.”
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

As he emerged into the corridor right behind her, as if they were in formation, Jake said, “I didn’t realize you were such a big fan.”

Raising her eyebrows, Emily said, “I’m not following you.”

“Telling Maeve to let them call you direct. You didn’t offer personalized and immediate service to Falyn.”

Wondering if he was attempting to tease her, Emily weighed her words carefully. “I can’t discuss my patients with you, but there’s a good reason I authorized direct contact if needed.” Anticipating his next question, she smiled to soften her remark, and added, “And I promise, there’s nothing you need to be aware of about Mrs. Daburkn.”

Both got off at the casino level, since sickbay was also on the same deck. “Good, glad to hear the reassuring news. Or lack of news, I guess,” Jake said. “I’ve got to go sign off on the security arrangements for their little performance in the theater. A limited number of passengers will be admitted to watch, and Red notified me there’s quite a crowd gathering.”

“Already?” Surprised, Emily said, “Liora indicated to me the event wasn’t for a few hours.”

Jake shrugged. “I gather the celebrity couple are going to do a meet and greet for a few people.”

“Not a good idea when we’ve got a norovirus outbreak.” Troubled by the idea of a social gathering of total strangers, which would probably include handshakes, Emily stopped beside the sickbay portal.

“Should we cancel this?” Jake’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “The event was heavily advertised as a feature on this leg of the cruise, and extra fees were charged for passengers who wanted to attend. I’d need Captain Fleming’s permission.”

Emily tapped her fingers on her personal AI, weighing the considerations. “No food is being served, right? And the bathroom facilities at the theater are adequate?”

“No food, except maybe backstage for the cast only. The designers of the ship over-built the restrooms on this level, so there’s no problem with adequate facilities,” was Jake’s prompt answer.
 

“Have the entire area thoroughly cleaned before and after the event, keep Maeve’s sanitation robos on standby in the area in case someone is taken ill, and I’ll approve the event proceeding as planned.”

“Absolutely, Doctor.” Prompt as always, Maeve chimed into the conversation.

Emily made a face. Jake gave her a puzzled glance. Ex-military AI or not, the Ship was getting on her nerves. Always watching, always taking part in the conversations, always judging. Startled by the direction her thoughts were going, Emily said, “I’ve got to go.”

He caught her elbow with a gentle touch. “Right, but we’re still on for dinner tomorrow, yes?”

“Picnic on the beach deck. I haven’t forgotten.” She held up one hand. “If the medical situation hasn’t become critical. I’d be regretful but I’d have to cancel on you.”

“Noted.” He leaned closer, and she caught a whiff of his crisp aftershave. “But as our only doctor, you require downtime too. We need you in good health.”

“I’m the best judge of my own condition.” He was so close she had the impression perhaps he was going to kiss her, and warily she moved back a step. Grinning, he sauntered away. “I’ll pick you up at your quarters at seven tomorrow night, standard time.”

The portal behind her opened as someone exited sickbay, and Emily hastened inside, mentally switching gears as she surveyed the crowd in the waiting area.

She was conferring with the captain and Maeve when Jake arrived the next evening. “The number of new patients today was actually lower than I expected,” she said as she let her date into the cabin, speaking to Fleming but glad to share the information with Jake as well.

“Do you think the outbreak is contained?” The captain’s voice was crisp over the comlink, his demeanor calm as always.

Emily frowned. “It’s a bit too soon, based on my research today into norovirus. Usually, we’d see the spike in fresh cases continuing for another day or two.”

“My countermeasures have been extremely thorough, Doctor,” Maeve said. “My sanitation robos have enhanced their efficiency at cleaning biohazardous bodily fluids by one hundred and thirty-five percent.”

Frowning as she contemplated the dubious statistic, Emily shook her head. “Let’s don’t celebrate or let our guard down too soon. The symptoms can take a day or two to present, especially in otherwise healthy sentients. At least I don’t have any nonhuman higher sentients on board to worry about. Norovirus can be lethal for certain species. I’d say continue the extra housecleaning, put out a reminder message tomorrow morning, if you would, Captain.”

“Will do, Fleming out.”
 

The vid connection flickered and disappeared.

“Ready for dinner on the beach, Doc?”

“You don’t have to go to any extra trouble on my account,” she said. “We could eat in the dining room, or even the officers’ mess. Tonight I’m daring enough to handle either one.”

“I’m working up to more public and complicated meals, believe me. But I wanted to keep this evening casual, and I have something I want to show you afterwards.” He ushered her into the corridor and toward the gravlift. “I found it helpful to spend time on the beach when I came on board. And it’s remarkably free of other people in the evenings, unless there’s an event.”

“Being deserted is a point in its favor,” she said, striving to match his tone and not allow herself to dwell on the horrors of the beach at Fantalar.