Star Cruise - Outbreak (26 page)

Emily gave the injects to each of the five ’Lites in the main room and then went into the bathroom after the girl who’d fled there to be sick. Emily found her sitting slumped against the wall, holding a towel and weeping, all her elaborate makeup smeared.
 

“I didn’t even go to the damn beach,” she wailed as the doctor entered the bathroom. “Why did I get sick? I told the others to stop being idiots—it wouldn’t be fun like Rupe was promising. How could a beach be fun? He only wanted to go once the captain declared it off-limits, so he could say he did.” Slowly, she toppled over on the soft rug. “My belly hurts.”

“You didn’t go to the beach?” Emily didn’t want to believe her ears.

“No, I didn’t. I told you. I hate sand, and salt water is disgusting on my skin.”

Running a scan, Emily verified the girl had stage-one Groskin’s. But the other data indicated by her instruments made her blood run cold. She ran the scan again. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Trikka, Trikka Heldon.”

“Trikka, this is important. What have you done since your friends enjoyed their illicit beach party and returned to the cabin?”

“Stayed here with them. We had a party going on, nothing but the most high-end feelgoods, you know? Rupe’s rich, son of a generational billionaire. He’s my squeeze for now, took him away from Sessaly, that bitch. We made love a few times.” She burped. “Then we all got sick. Tried to ride it out, but today Sess said we had to call sickbay even if we did get in trouble over the blind-eye.”

Emily had to be sure about what was worrying her, so she repeated the girl’s words. “You had unprotected sex with Rupair?”

“I just said that. Do I get my inject or not?”

“Problem?” Jake stuck his head into the room. “Pickup team is on the way.”

Emily held up her hand. “Give me a second.” She injected Trikka with the Galamialate and got to her feet. “Someone will be in here shortly to help you to the quarantine ward, where we can take proper care of you.”

“Fine.” Trikka closed her eyes.

After carefully decontaminating the hands of her suit with her portable unit, Emily went into the short hall to join Jake. “We need to isolate her and the one called Rupair. Probably, to be safe, we should isolate all six of them. Put them all in suits for the transit to quarantine.”

“Whatever you say, Doc, but what makes them special?”

“Trikka, the girl in there? She apparently caught Groskin’s through sexual intercourse, exchange of bodily fluids. She stayed away from the beach, but she slept with her boyfriend after he made the trip.”

Jake’s eyes widened as he considered the implications. “Seven hells, Mrs. Fenn was afraid of the bug mutating.”

“It gets worse. Trikka’s got Type O blood. The organism has found a way to neutralize the safety factor now.”

He cursed.
 

“I’m hoping the bug has mutated only in Rupair’s system. And of course Trikka’s carrying the new version. As long as the difficulty of transmitting the infection remains high, we’re probably going to be okay.” Glad she was wearing her biohazard gear, Emily looked around the messy suite. “Maeve needs to take this room down to the bare bulkheads. Everything has to be decontaminated, maybe even jettisoned into space. That device Jayna took from the boy’s room and handed you? Get rid of it.”

Jake’s face was white. “Groskin’s isn’t going to wait for us to unlock its secrets, is it?”

“We’re just lucky the bug hasn’t gone airborne. Rupair and Trikka are the two most dangerous sentients on this ship right now. The virus could be mutating further in their bodies.” Emily shook her head. “I’ll stay here and supervise getting them safely moved.”

“What do we do next?”

“Once Mrs. Fenn isolates the mutated Groskin’s bug from these kids’ blood samples, we should repeat the blood tests on all the existing patients to see if anyone else is developing a new version we need to know about.” She sighed. “We need to test everyone who was exposed to the water again. The scale of this is daunting.”

“And if it goes airborne and gets away from us? If it becomes capable of infecting people directly, no need for exposure to spores and water?”

Emily swallowed hard. She had no doubts on the single course of action should that happen. “I’ll be telling Captain Fleming my professional opinion is to orbit us into the heart of a star and keep this outbreak away from the rest of the Sectors.”

The mood the next morning at the staff meeting was grim, no teasing or jokes today.

“So the death rate appears to be increasing,” Emily concluded, “as patients’ immune systems and other bodily functions wear down. The Enzells are both still hanging on, which does give me hope to some extent, but we lost seventeen overnight.”

“I have an announcement of my own,” Red said, waving his personal AI. “Downloaded the information two seconds ago.”

“I’m all ears and sensors,” Emily said.

“Since it appears Mr. Groskin is a person of interest to us again, I dug deeper into his travel authorizations, where he listed his occupation as free trader. It so happens I now know he was shipping a small crate on board this very ship under a DBA false front. Took a while to cross-reference the cargo to him.”

She didn’t care how many fake identities or shell companies Groskin had. The mention of the cargo caught her attention. “How small?”

“Size is a relative term, according to Chief Cargo Master Embersson. Apparently, we take on all kinds of odd-shaped modules for individuals, versus the massive, standard shipping containers the big lines like Loxton Galactic use.” Red scanned the incoming data. “Embersson says it’s a six-by-six cube. I’m hoping there’ll be something inside to give us a clue what planet Groskin might have come from most recently. He was a slippery customer all right.”

“Be careful,” Emily said. “You might need to use hazmat gear. Who knows what other surprises the late Mr. Groskin might have carried?”

“I have to be there with you.” Sid jumped from his chair, motioning to the trid operator. “This could be a pivotal moment in the entire outbreak.”

“Captain Fleming said you could come along as long as the cargo master is cool with it. Don’t irritate Embersson—the deck is his, and he will throw you off.” Jake leaned over to give Emily a kiss on the cheek. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Let me know what you find.” Attention on Meg once more, she resumed going over the plans to expand the quarantine ward, moving the more seriously ill patients into an elaborate ICU the Ship had created as conditions worsened by the day.

Jake knew Emily was dreading the moment when the death rate climbed, or new stage-two cases appeared, or both. “I hope this son of a bitch had the cure in his damn cargo,” he said to Red as the two security officers descended side by side in the gravlift.
 

“Yeah, the doc isn’t going to handle it well if she can’t save anyone in this battle. Meg told me that we lost three kids in the group who died overnight.” Red swallowed hard. “I know it’s selfish, but I’m damn glad she’s immune to basic Groskins, with that blood type of hers. She was in and out of the fucking water on Level 5 for two days while she was watching over the Enzell siblings. Of course now that we know the bug has mutated in those two poor ‘Lites, all bets are off. ”

“I hear you. I hope the injects the military shot us full of over the years keep saving
our
asses, you know? Even with the mutations starting to show up. Let the organism go airborne though, and we’re all dust. Fleming would have to pilot us into a sun.”
 

“I want to kill Groskin all over again. Bastard snuck in somewhere he wasn’t supposed to go, obviously, didn’t take the right precautions, and a lot of people are paying the price.” Red shook his head. “Kids dying is hard to take. Meg couldn’t sleep. Doc had to give her something because she was so broken up about the deaths. Meg never signed up for this.”

“None of us did, but we do what we gotta do.” Jake glanced at Sid and raised his voice. “We’re coming to the cargo decks now. Brace yourselves and try to make a clean landing. And remember what I said about staying out of the way. Embersson’s the boss on these levels.”

The entry onto the primary cargo deck opened into a cavernous space and provided an unobstructed view of the cargo deck, which was crammed full of containers of all sizes and shapes. The ship’s cat trotted into view from behind a pallet of crates and twined herself around Jake’s ankles, meowing. He bent to pet her fur, sneaking a cat treat out of one pocket. “Don’t tell the boss,” he said as he placed the pellet on the deck while the cat purred.

“Incoming,” Red warned.

“Are you feeding the cat again, Dilon? Spoiling her rotten.” Cargo Master Embersson was built on the massive scale—wide shoulders, big chest, huge thighs—but moved like a cat himself. Quiet and deadly. Except for his voice, which boomed and echoed in the crowded cargo hold.

Jake often thought Embersson probably tossed the cargo where it needed to be stowed all by himself, no need for the fancy equipment lesser mortals needed. “She likes me.”

“She gets too fat to chase the vermin down here and I’ll send her to live in your cabin. Let her tear up your uniforms,” Embersson threatened, even as he picked the cat up to pet her, scratching behind her ears. “Moby works for a living, unlike some people I know.” Absentmindedly carrying the cat, he led them deeper into the hold. “Got your little package over here in a decontamination unit, per the message you sent this morning. Container seems okay. No sign of damage. Pain in the butt unstacking and restacking the shit in front of it. I hate these damn prima donna free traders.”

“Did Groskin give you grief about his cargo?” Jake asked.

“Nah, free traders in general get under my skin.” Embersson set the cat down on a stack of crates bearing the Loxton Galactic imprint, and she began to bathe her shimmering white fur, ignoring all of them. He jerked his thumb at a decidedly less impressive shipping container sitting in solitary splendor inside an isolation tent. “There it is. You gonna wear suits to open it?”

“Dr. Shane wants us to.”

“Yeah, after the monster Mrs. Fenn showed us at staff the other morning, I’m on board with the program,” Red said. “Thing was freaky.”

Embersson rubbed his neck. “How big?”

“Too small for Moby to chase.” Jake laughed. “Microscopic.”

“We ran a scan.” Embersson waved a hand at the small knot of cargo workers standing nearby. “Nothing. All indications are we have a normal crate.”

“What does the bill of lading say?” Jake asked.

“Sundries and miscellaneous small trade goods.” Embersson shrugged. “Guy at his two-bit level doesn’t have to be more specific. If he was smuggling contraband, he probably hid it pretty well. Sector Hub Security only does a random check anyway, unless the authorities get a tip. Too much cargo volume coming and going to scan each piece. My guys’ll help you into the suits.”

“I’ll do it by myself,” Red volunteered. “I don’t think the job requires two of us to suit up.”

“You sure?” Jake was startled.

“Can’t let you have all the glory.” Red grinned. “Besides, you’re the brains of the outfit, or so you tell me. We’ll hold you in reserve.”

After a few minutes, Red lumbered across the deck, the protective suit completely covering his face and body. He carried a scanner in one hand. “I’m ready. Maeve, open the chamber.”

Embersson drew Jake, Sid and the crew members behind a barrier, where a vidscreen had been set up. “In case anything blows.”

“Won’t the hull rupture?” Sid asked, glancing at the bulkheads and deck nervously.

“Not if it’s a small charge. The portable chamber may not appear impressive, but it will contain quite an explosion. Wouldn’t be so healthy for Red.” The cargo master’s casual tone belied the concern on his face.

“Red’s trained in defusing booby traps,” Jake said, not shifting his focus from the events on the screen. “He’s through the air lock, entering the holding chamber now.”

Red studied the crate from all sides for a few moments, running the scanner a few inches away from the surface. He turned to face them, and the comlink crackled into a live feed. “Nothing. Seems to be an ordinary module. I’m going to open it now.”

“How will he unlock it?” Sid whispered.

“There’s an override code,” Jake said.

There was a click clearly audible over the comlink, and Red stepped back as the module unfolded in an intricate arrangement, displaying a number of smaller, sealed containers. “I’m going to start with the largest, here on the left.” Maneuvering awkwardly in his suit, Red shifted the first three boxes to the side and opened one after the other. As the third lid opened, a small brownish creature leaped from the interior and scuttled to the corner of the containment area, baring impressive fangs at Red and hissing. He blasted it.

Weapon in hand, Jake was at the door of the air lock. “You okay?”

“Yeah, once my heart rate settles.” Red bent over the charred corpse and toed it with his boot. “Common spacelanes freighter rat. Must have gotten in when the crate was open in a warehouse somewhere.” Red moved to the module. “Don’t tell Moby I cheated her out of prey.”

“You got it.” Jake remained next to the module, staring at the brightly lit interior as Red labored to unpack more cargo. “What are you finding? Any clues?”