Star Cruise - Outbreak (20 page)

“I need a physician in the sickbay to oversee the staff there, deal with routine cases, triage anyone who shows up with possible symptoms of the Groskin virus.”

“Groskin?” Hillier questioned her repeated use of the term. “You said you didn’t know what bug this was, yet you have a name for it?”

“We believe Patient Zero on board was an individual named Groskin.” Emily realized she’d failed to explain this detail. “We have to call the pathogen something. To continue, I also need as many trained people here in the quarantine ward as possible to help take care of the patients.”

“With you in charge.” Hillier’s voice was cold.

“I’m the ship’s chief medical officer,” Emily said. “This outbreak is occurring on my watch. So yes, I’m in charge.”

Dr. Dalimir raised her hand, gems flashing. “Under the circumstances, I volunteer to keep the sickbay running. I believe I’m the one with the most current practical experience here, aside from Dr. Shane herself. I know many of the upper-deck passengers personally, have resculpted and restored more than a few of them in my clinics, so seeing me in such a situation may engender calm. I believe anything we can do to avoid panic and speculation will be vital.”

Emily was grateful, although she also realized the other physician had neatly taken the easiest assignment and the most visible. “How soon can you report for duty?”

The elite specialist glanced at her diaphanous lavender, gray and pink robes and the pink shoes on her tiny feet. “Let me seek my cabin and change into something more utilitarian. I can be in sickbay in an hour. I’m traveling with one of my staff and I’ll volunteer his services as well.”

“We’ll be happy to work here in the quarantine ward,” Mrs. Fenn said. She patted her husband on the knee. “He hasn’t practiced medicine for years, other than overseeing clinical trials, but it’ll come back to him. He’s kept his Sectors certifications current. Had to for the nature of the business we’re in.” Dr. Fenn nodded and mumbled something. Smiling, the elderly lady continued, “As for me, I’m guessing there won’t be any nonhuman sentients to care for?”

“There are no passengers or crew of nonhuman descent on board at the moment,” Maeve confirmed.

“Right, so all my research into xenobiology won’t help here, but I raised seven children. I’m not afraid of getting hands-on with bedpans and the like.”

“There may be pediatric patients, actually,” Emily said. “A number of children on board had stage-one Groskin’s. In fact, one of the patients being moved from sickbay with stage two now is a child.”

“Poor little thing. All right, count us in. Of course, we’re a bit advanced in years, as you can tell, so we won’t be putting in long shifts like you younger folks can.” Mrs. Fenn gave Emily a direct look. “I only have the one condition, about the hours of work, but it’s a potential deal breaker.”

“Happy to oblige. I’m grateful for any assistance.”

“So far I’ve heard nothing with the power to change my mind,” Hillier said, rising from his chair. “Count me out.”

Meg spoke up. “There may be something you haven’t properly considered.”
 

Emily swiveled, trying to imagine what her new assistant was going to add to the conversation.

“And that is?”

“Publicity. Dr. Shane’s offering you the kind of publicity all the credits in the Sectors can’t buy.” Meg was matter-of-fact. “Dr. Dalimir gets it, I’m sure. Here you have a chance to step in and be a hero, help with the shipboard outbreak—the Sectors media will eat it up. You and the Angel of Fantalar working selflessly side by side? Dautramon’s stock would go through the stratosphere. On the other hand, how would your refusal to participate be perceived? Wasn’t Dautramon a takeover target last year? Didn’t I read that you barely hung on to the company? You probably can’t afford bad publicity.”

Uncomfortable as always at the mention of her media-given title, Emily shifted in her chair. She guessed she could deal with more notoriety if the glare of the spotlight got her more help. There was a knock at the door, and Vicente stepped inside. “Dr. Shane? We’ve moved the patients, and there are more people assembling by the gravlift. Things are kinda disorganized out here.”

“I’ll be right out, thank you.”

“The two crew members with military medical experience have reported. Actually, the ex-corpsman is already at work triaging, and the nurse is taking incoming at the gravlift.” Vicente gave her a salute and left the office.

Thank the Lords of Space for the military veterans.
Emily rose. “The meeting is over. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“I’m in.” Hillier nodded at Meg. “You give a most persuasive argument.”

“Let’s get you a coat so you can start treating people. Primary therapy is fluids and closely monitored coagulants. The Ship can fill you in or download specifics of treatment to your AI. I’ll make rounds as soon as I can.”

Her volunteers filed out. Emily detained Meg with a hand on her arm. “I appreciate your help. What made you think of highlighting the publicity angle?”

“I used to deal with people like him all the time on my last ship. In fact, he reminds me of someone I’d rather forget from our final cruise. A real jerk of a businessman.” Meg made a face and shook herself. “But I do know what makes his kind tick. Listening to high-level executives and CEOs strategize while supposedly relaxing on our small cruise ship was like a master class in business.” She leaned closer, speaking softly. “Don’t trust him as far as you can throw him, but if he gives his word, he’ll probably stick to it.”

“Great.” Emily hoped she hadn’t made her problems worse by asking the captain to draft passengers to help the medical team. But what other options did she have?

“Better to be forewarned.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

After double-checking the number, Jake knocked at the cabin portal. Hearing a faint, “Come in,” he glanced at his companion. “This pickup shouldn’t be any trouble, but stay frosty, just in case.”

“Right.” Jayna didn’t blink. “After seeing the hallucinations one guy was throwing on Deck B, I’m ready for anything. This virus sure is affecting some people in grotesque ways. Tell me again we won’t catch it, boss.”

“Relax, you’re immune.” The door slid open, and Jake stepped into the cabin, Jayna on his heels. Brightly colored clothing was strewn everywhere, on the furniture and in heaps on the deck. He stubbed his toe on an open makeup applicator, sending a small poof of rainbow-hued powder into the air. Sneezing, he searched in vain for the occupant of the cabin. “Hello? Ms. Halkyon? Chief Security Officer Dilon here. You called the Ship for help?”

“What a mess.” Jayna moved farther into the cabin. She picked up a silky robe heavily encrusted with glittering embroidery and dropped it on the nearest chair.

“I-I’m in here, in the bathroom,” said a high-pitched voice. “I kinda don’t feel so good.”

“Yes, ma’am, that’s why the Ship sent us.” Jake tried to be reassuring. He motioned for Jayna to take point. “My partner’s coming in to check on your condition.”

A moment later, she stuck her head out. “We’ll need the quarantine team. Bleeding from nose and eyes.”

Tenth one this morning. Guess Emily was right to be so worried when we were talking to Captain Fleming yesterday.
Jake sent the pickup order subvocally via his link with Maeve, then knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m going to the next call, if you can handle this?”

Jayna was rock steady as always.“Sure, go ahead. I’ll catch up after the pickup team moves her to quarantine.”

Emily was supervising the infusion of coagulant into a newly arrived patient when Meg threaded her way through the aisle. “You have a visitor.”

“Unless they brought a cure for Groskin’s, I’m too busy,” Emily said, eyeing the readouts. This patient was elderly, extremely critical, nearly coding once already, and hadn’t been found until Maeve ran an illicit cabin scan on his deck, by which time the man had already been close to exsanguination.

Meg leaned closer. “It’s Mr. Daburkn.”

Giving her assistant a sideways glance, Emily said, “Is his wife with him? Is she ill?”

“He didn’t give me any details, but I think he’s here on business. He brought his trid gear and an assistant. No sign of his wife.”

“We’ll see about that.” Shedding her suit in the decon unit, Emily headed for the conference room she’d commandeered on this level to serve as her office. Sid Daburkn and the head of his technical crew waited, trid recorders stacked on a side chair.

Giving the cameras a glare, Emily sat behind her desk. “I don’t know what the seven hells you think you’re doing here, but you can have two minutes to explain it to me, because I need to get off my aching feet for a moment. Any changes in your wife’s condition?”

“I know you’re busy, Doctor—”

“Overwhelmed is more like it. Liora?”

“She’s fine. Suffering the ongoing morning sickness, but coping. Remaining in our cabin, as you suggested. No signs of anything more serious.” Sid flashed his patented movie-star smile. “This is Carrl, my number one cameraman.”

Emily shook her head and rose from her chair. “I have patients who need me.”

Apparently hearing the finality in her voice, Sid cut to the chase. “I want to film the epidemic story.”

Thinking she heard wrong, Emily sat down hard. “You want to what?”

“I want to shadow you and your team. I want to profile some of the patients. I want to explore the cause of the outbreak. It’s going to be the biggest human-interest story in decades, definitely the biggest since the
Nebula Dream
catastrophe, and I’ll be in the thick of it. Take the audience into the danger and guide them through it.” His rich, highly trained actor voice fell into the rhythm of trid narration, suitable for enticing a thrilled viewer to experience the disaster at a safe distance.

“This isn’t some promotional event we’re staging for your benefit. Not a vicarious thrill ride for Sectors citizens.” Anger was thrumming through her veins, creating an instant headache. Emily had to work hard not to show how upset his attitude made her. Must remain professional. “People are extremely ill, dying. I just left the bedside of a sweet little old gentleman, someone’s grandfather, who may not make it through the day despite our best efforts to help him. So please forgive me if I’m not all that interested in your audience right now.”

“I know. I have eyes, and I hear the rumors. I understand where your focus and attention must be. I’m looking at a bigger picture, Doctor. One that can’t be ignored.” He leaned closer. “It’s to CLC’s benefit to cooperate. I’m going to have the story no matter what. I’ve already interviewed a few people on board.”

Publicity again.
Even through her anger, Emily took note of the morbid irony in someone mentioning favorable PR to her. “Are you threatening me? Do I need to have Officer Dilon throw you in the brig?”

“Calm down. No one is threatening anyone.” Daburkn went back to his persuasive, pitchman’s voice. “Can you imagine what it would have been like to be on board the
Nebula Dream
, recording the events there firsthand?”

“I hardly see the comparison.
Nebula Dream
was an entirely different situation—”

“The public remains terrified and fascinated by that whole disaster precisely because the most prominent survivors only gave one tightly controlled interview. Later, there was a technical deposition given to the ICC investigatory board that’s practically undecipherable to the average Sectors citizen. Leaving all of us in the Sectors to speculate and make up our own horror stories.” Daburkn spread his hands wide. “I’m giving the CLC Line the chance to show itself at its best, taking care of the passengers, making the supreme effort to save lives. You’ll be even more famous than you already are. I know you don’t care about that, Doctor, but a disaster of this magnitude could destroy the shipping line, cost all your friends their jobs and pensions. I can tell the story with a CLC-friendly slant.” Narrowing his eyes and leaning in, he lowered his voice and modulated his tone. “I do have a contract in effect with the company for filming on board. The terms are broad enough that they can’t deny me access now.” He paused for effect and added what he apparently felt was a deal-sweetener. “The Line would be entitled to some of the net profit from the documentary, if there is any.”

Remembering how Meg had persuaded Hillier to sign on as a volunteer with the prospect of positive publicity, Emily bit her lip. She had the feeling Sid was on to something, and the Line probably would want her to cooperate. “We’ll have to run this by Captain Fleming. It’s his ship, not mine. If he gives permission, then yes, you can shadow me and my staff, as long as you stay out of our way and don’t interfere with medical protocols. No filming or interviewing any staff member or patient without their permission.”

“Of course.” Sid was all gracious eagerness to please now. “Are you going to talk to Captain Fleming, or shall I?”

“I’m a doctor, not a film agent. You want to make a trideo, you talk to him. You may quote me to the effect I’ve agreed, with certain conditions, pending his approval. Now you’ve kept me from my patients long enough.” Wondering what was next, Emily ushered the two men out of the office, donned her biohazard suit again and headed into the rapidly filling ward.

She walked through the beds, taking note of vital signs. About half the patients appeared to have stabilized with the measures being taken, but the remaining victims were critical. Several who were elderly, or who had weakened or compromised immune systems had died in the past two and a half days. Their bodies been conveyed as unobtrusively as possible to the cryo deck for preservation. Stage two progressed at different rates in its victims and as yet she had no idea what variables affected the speed of organ failure, besides the obvious factor of how healthy the person had been at the onset of symptoms. Emily wished she could consult with experts on hemorrhagic diseases but as yet Captain Fleming refused to break out of hyperspace to send any further communication. He wanted to reach Sector Hub with all possible speed and hand off the patients. She and Maeve had done as much research as they could in Maeve’s databanks. Emily had her staff trying a variety of supportive measures but so far nothing looked remotely like a cure.