Star Cruise - Outbreak (31 page)

“Thank the Lords of Space. He’s a lucky guy you were here today. We’re in Cabin 10 on Level 1.” Red signed off, and she went to change out of her scrubs and get into her own biohazard gear.

When she arrived at the suite, the scene was pretty much as usual—the passenger pale and exhausted, lying on the couch. What got her attention immediately was that he had a nosebleed. Were stage one and stage two merging into one set of symptoms now?

“Tell the doc what you told me,” Red said, pointing at the ‘Lite as soon as she came in. “Start with your name.”

“Mik, Mik Pardar. I’ve never been to the damn beach deck, okay?” The passenger dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief. “Like I told your security goon here, I started feeling sick to my stomach about a day and a half ago, got a nasty case of diarrhea on top of that, and then this morning my nose started bleeding and won’t stop. I got scared, with all that stuff going on down on Level C and all, so I called sickbay. Next thing I know, I’m being treated like a criminal instead of being helped. Are you going to help me, Doctor? My father—”

“I’m sure he’ll sue the line for every credit we’ve got.” She held up her hand. “Spare me. Do you know Rupair?”

“Yeah. We travel in the same circles sometimes.” The man seemed wary.

Emily cut straight to the chase. “Did you have unprotected sex with him?”

Mik guffawed. “Does he swing that way? I’d never have guessed. No, you’re way out of orbit, Doctor. We did feelgoods together. Shared the high.”

“How did you share?”

Mimicking the process of injecting himself in the arm, Mik raised an eyebrow. “Mainline works best, Doc. You oughta know that.”

“And you used the same inject?”

“Hell yeah. It’s better that way.” Mik grabbed his gut and moaned. “Please, Doctor, no more questions. I’m dying here.”

You might be.
Emily got out the Galamialate. “Before I give you this, anyone else involved in this feelgood party of yours? Or do you know of anyone else on board who buys feelgoods from Rupair?”

“Think carefully before you answer,” Red said.

“He sells to everyone in our crowd.” Mik sniffed as the flow of blood from his nose increased. He wiped at his face and stared wide-eyed at the red smearing his hand. “I’ll give you names. Just please make this stop.”

“Names first.” Red was insistent, and the glance he shot at Emily stopped her instinctive protest about further delaying treatment.
 

 
A few minutes later, Red seemed satisfied Mik had told them everything he knew, so Emily administered the standard dose of the intestinal medicine, adding a coagulant. “You should feel better soon, but we’ll be taking you to quarantine on Level C for a more extensive treatment.” The way he was bleeding, she was concerned whether the spice-based drug would help him much. “Get him into a suit and get him to Level C, stat,” she said. “This patient is high priority.”

“Aren’t you coming, Doc?”

“I’m going back to sickbay to check on Jake first, and then I’ll be on my way,” she said. Her stress level rose as she considered the clash between her first priority—the man she loved—and the necessity of managing the outbreak until she could officially declare the emergency over.
Please let the
zalmadrir
be our miracle cure. And no more new patients!

A week later…

Jake woke from his latest nap to find himself in his own bed, free of the hated intravenous hookups and noisy medical monitors. Shaking his head a little to reorient himself, he stretched gingerly, shoving aside the riotously colorful blanket lying heavily across his legs. The freedom to move without gadgets and probes pulling and tugging on him was exhilarating.

Emily emerged from his kitchenette, carrying a tray.

“That better have some steak on it,” he said. “I’m sick of mush and soup.”

“You’re not ready for steak yet, tough guy. Cool your jets.” She placed the dishes on a table next to the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “How do you feel?”

“Like not making any sudden moves, even with a gorgeous woman right next to me in bed.” He grinned. “But less woozy.”

“I’ve reduced the pain meds, now that you’re healing so well. And as you can see, you’re doing well enough to return to your own quarters.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You had me worried for a day or two there.”

“Too tough to die from a lousy gut wound.” His chuckle broke off abruptly as he realized it did hurt to laugh. Fingering the edge of the blanket, he said, “Is this the thing Mrs. Fenn was working on every time I saw her in a meeting on Level C?”

“Yes. I hope you like it, because she’s given it to you. After it was put through decontamination, of course.”

“It’s a bit colorful for my taste, but what can I say, right?” Jake traced the hot green strand as it crisscrossed the turquoise and the fuchsia and suddenly turned into purple, blinking as the riot of color made him dizzy. “Can’t hurt an old lady’s feelings.”

“Apparently, you don’t remember, but she actually presented it to you in sickbay a few days ago. Right after Falyn gave you a medal.” Emily pointed at the elaborate gold medallion encrusted with gems, hanging from a ribbon on his bedframe. “She and her new entourage left the ship as soon as we got to Sector Hub. From what I’ve heard, the political situation has settled down. Her new regent seems to be a better diplomat and strategist than Scorrshyn. He reached out to her, by the way, once she recovered from her heart attack.”

“Pretty bauble. Impressive.” He touched the bottom of the decoration, setting it swinging. “I guess I was kind of in and out after the explosion. Actually, I have a whole box full of these things from my service days. I’d tell you what the medals were for, but it’s all classified. I’m glad Falyn was okay.” Closing his eyes, he leaned back on the pillows for a few moments, until his attention was captured by a scraping noise. “Tell me you are
not
cutting my food up for me.”

Emily gave him an innocent smile when he opened his eyes. She set the bed tray over his lap. “What a wonderful plate of treats, all bite-size, mushy and ready to eat. Chef Stephanie cooked this dish especially for you, by the way.”

“I can feed myself,” he said, grabbing the fork before she could.

“Just don’t go too fast. Pace yourself. It’s probably too much food, but she was so happy to have the chance to help.” She picked up a mug of coffee and moved to the chair. “Want a status update?”

“What I want probably isn’t on the menu,” he said with an attempt at a leer.

“You won’t be cleared for
that
activity for quite a while, Officer Dilon, and it’ll have to be performed under close medical supervision.” She winked. “But if you make a good attempt at lunch today, I’ll come over there and cuddle a bit. As ship’s physician, I couldn’t share the bed in sickbay.”

“Deal.”

Her face crumpled a little. “I missed you, Jake. The thought of losing you—”

“Hey now, it’s fine. I’m going to be all right.” He shifted the tray in an attempt to reach out and comfort her. “Come here, sweetheart. I need you in my arms more than I need food right now, and you need the reassurance too, I think.”

She took the tray away and then lay down gingerly, so as not to bump into his wounds. Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “Some tough doctor I am, forcing the patient to make me feel better.”

“Hey, I love you. I’ll always be here to do whatever’s required to make you happy.” He tipped her face to his and kissed her with tenderness.

When they drew apart, she searched his face, her focus intense and unwavering. “You—you mean that?”

“That I love you? Hell yes. I’m sorry if it’s too soon to say it according to whatever schedule you think we should follow, but after the last close call, I’m not waiting, Doc. I’m not trying to rush you, but I’m not forcing myself to keep my emotions bottled up either.”

She settled against him with a contented wriggle, getting closer. “I love you too, Jake Dilon. I’m so glad you talked me into signing on for this crazy cruise to disaster.”

“Good.” He had an unsettling thought. “You are going to stay, aren’t you? I mean, I could probably get a job on Harilon eventually, if you hate the cruise life, but I have a contract with CLC I’d have to work out—”

“I love you even more for being willing to compromise, but there’s no need. I met with Captain Fleming yesterday, in fact, and signed my own contract to be the
Zephyr
’s
chief medical officer for as long as you and I want to stay aboard her.” Emily stretched like a satisfied cat. “I never would have guessed it, but shipboard life suits me.”

“It doesn’t get better than this,” he said, flooded with contentment. “Are we past the outbreak now? All the patients recovering?”

“We lost a few more. The spice-infusion treatment was pretty rough, and some of the patients couldn’t survive it. Harrowing to watch, but necessary. I’d never administer a medicine with such a high mortality rate unless the illness it cures is something as deadly as Groskin’s. I’d get sued for malpractice.” She shook her head. “Had some heart attacks, a few kidney failures, and a stroke or two. I was able to save most of them with immediate intervention, but we still lost too many. Maybe fifteen percent. A couple of people went into comas.”

“What’s going to happen to them?”

“We convinced the Sector medical authorities that the outbreak was understood and under control now. They’ve boarded and taken the comatose patients off, bound for the big teaching hospital on Hub. My understanding is they’ll be receiving the total blood-volume cleanse, and we all hope that’ll work. There were several people with permanent brain damage, where the bug crossed the brain barrier. They all died. Even the spice can’t restore missing brain cells. I’ll be following up on the cases from a distance—they’re still my patients until they get to go home.” She smiled. “Both Mrs. Enzell and her son pulled through, I’m happy to report.”

“Good news for sure. That ’Lite, what was his name—Rupair?”

“He survived, but most of his friends didn’t make it, not even Sessaly. There were a few more victims with his mutated strain of the organism after you went down. They’d done feelgoods with him and shared the experience. Got more than they bargained for. The mutated strain was more efficient at attacking the brain as well.”

“Thank the Lords of Space for the spice.” Jake paused, reconsidering. “Although, if not for Groskin stealing the spice in the first place, none of this ever would have happened.”

 
“True. We tried a lower dose, but that left a significant Groskin’s count in the blood, so it was handle the one big dose or nothing. The organism hadn’t mutated in anyone other than Rupair, his girlfriend and the other people he infected, so we escaped an even worse disaster. Maeve vented the entire beach level to space before we reached Sector Hub, so there’ll be no more outbreaks on this ship.” Emily laughed. “I made a condition of my employment that Maeve could have a top-of-the-line medical module upgrade. She says she loves absorbing new modules, so she’s happy. I owed her one.”

A personal AI—whether his or hers, he couldn’t tell—chimed for an incoming call. Jake tightened his arm as she tried to rise. “Whoever it is can wait. Stay with me.”

Emily laughed and disentangled herself. “You need to eat, and I am on call.” She kissed his nose. “You can have more hands-on physical therapy after lunch, if you’re up to it.”

“I never figured you for a tease, Dr. Shane.” He took the tray and speared his next bite of the chef’s delicious entree.

“Just offering incentives.” She disappeared into the living area to find the AI.

“It’s Meg,” Emily said, re-emerging a moment later with the device in hand. “She says hi.”

“Tell her hi back. What does she want?”

“She’s asking me whether she should reschedule your birthday celebration. I gather it’s in two weeks?” Emily frowned. “Medically, you could handle it. Of course, no dancing, no volleyball. Minimal feelgood intake allowed, but do you want a big party so soon?”

“Hell yes. I want to introduce the entire ship to the woman I love and let them know she’s mine.” Then a thought struck him, and he lowered the fork. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t throw a blowout? I know you don’t like large gatherings and hate being the center of attention. You know what? Tell Meg thanks but no. We can celebrate together quietly, have some Chocolate Decadence Supreme here in my cabin.”

Emily came to sit on the bed, kissing him across the tray. “Maybe I want to show the entire ship’s crew I’ve got the man I love, and he’s mine. How about that? Hands off, ladies!”

He studied her face for a moment. “Really?”

She cupped his cheek with her palm. “I love your attempt to be so considerate of me—you make me feel cherished, Jake. But if we’re going to be together, there’ll have to be compromises on both sides, and this is one I want to make. Just promise me we can celebrate privately later, in the Tadochi Garden, and I’ll be ready to sign up for Meg’s planned extravaganza. We have a lot to be grateful for.”

He set the annoying tray aside again and pulled her to him, ignoring a twinge or two from his healing gut. “I promise we’ll celebrate in private anywhere you want and as often as you want, Doc. In fact, I think we should start now, work up to the big event. I know, we can’t get too hot and heavy till my wound’s squared away, but I can show you how inventive I can be.” He raised his eyebrows and shifted his hips suggestively under the sheet.