Stardoc (23 page)

“You have no evidence to justify a quarantine.”

I stared at Mayer. “Please, just do it. I’ll get the proof.” He nodded. “I need microscans from the lab work-ups on Karas and Dalton.” A thought occurred to me, and I closed my eyes for a moment. “Nurse Ecla was exposed at the same time Rogan was. The last time I saw her, she showed no signs of infection.

Neither do I.” Ecla, the dancing bouquet of beauty.

Mayer’s crisp voice interrupted my thoughts. “I will have the affected workers and Nurse Ecla brought in and examined. But until a pathogen is identified, there will be no open declaration of a quarantine. Do you understand me? Not a word until we know what we’re dealing with.”

My turn to compromise. The chief was only doing his job. “Yes. All right.”

“Keep me informed,” he said, and walked out.

*

There was no way I could tell the Jorenian I was quarantined with a dying patient. It was hard enough to fake a calm expression and invent an excuse about a routine emergency case. “Sorry I have to stand you up again, but I can’t leave him right now.” At least the last part of that was true.

“I am sorry, too. I am scheduled to leave for the Gra’-capa system tomorrow. The assignment will last several rotations.” Kao’s steady gaze made me feel guilty, but Mayer’s orders had been implicit. “I will see you when I return, Healer?”

If only I could tell him. “I’m counting on it.”

Hours later, Dr. Mayer released the barrier seals and walked in. My bleary eyes moved from the data readings on my scanner to the chiefs face. I couldn’t even work up a good whimper of outrage. “Are you nuts?”

“Bioscans have revealed nothing.”

“They’re wrong,” I said.

“Dr. Grey Veil, I conducted the fifth and sixth repeated scan myself,” he told me. “There were no contagions present in any of the samples.”

“No known contagions.”

“Unidentified contaminants would still leave a chemical signature, Doctor. The scans were clean.” Mayer surveyed Rogan and consulted his chart. “How long do you estimate he has left?”

“Twelve hours, maybe a little more. His physiology is more resilient than Karas’s was, and I’ve surgically installed an open drain in his chest.”

“Fortunate. It will give us time.”

“Not much.” A yawn tugged at my jaw, and I had to fight the urge to close my eyes. “What about Dalton?”

“No dramatic change in symptoms. No response to full spectrum Terran antibiotics.”

“The workers from the project site? Ecla?” I asked “No symptoms other than what you originally observed, and no progression. Nurse Ecla’s scans were clear.”

“So in other words, I’m starting to look like a paranoid moron.” Mayer didn’t respond, and I began to rub my eyes. “I need to get some sleep.”

“Go home.”

“Don’t you think we should at least continue the quarantine protocols until I can figure out how to identify this contagion?” I asked.

The chief put down Rogan’s chart. “I will continue most of the protocols for another cycle. We will then review the cases and decide on a course of action.”

“We?” The yawn finally won.

Dr. Mayer appeared somewhat affronted. “You and I, Dr. Grey Veil.”

Drowsiness fled, replaced by utter astonishment, but the chief dismissed me without elaborating.

Somehow I got to my quarters without losing consciousness, although I was fuzzy on the means I used to get there. I recalled someone helping me into public transport and pushing me out at the front of my unit. I staggered to my door and came to an unsteady halt when I saw the graceful, grey-haired Chakacat waiting patiently beside it.

“Dr. Grey Veil?”

I looked around but didn’t see Jenner. “Hello, Alunthri.”

“May I speak with you?”

“Sure. Come in.” I opened the door panel and found Jenner pacing nervously inside. He made a sound of pleasure and dashed up into Alunthri’s open arms.

“Some guard cat you are,” I tried to joke, but I was really too tired to do more than shuffle to a chair and drop.

“He is very intelligent for his kind. Affectionate, as well.”

“You haven’t been around when I get home late.” Jenner glared at me, and I nodded. “You’re entitled, too, pal. My hours stink.” I looked at the Chakacat. “What can I do for you, Alunthri?”

“I am seeking assistance, Doctor. My owner recently expired, and I find I am without deed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I tried to sound compassionate, but I was beat. “Uh, what does that last part mean - without deed?”

“I am under no ownership.”

I saw the license chip was gone from its collar. “Isn’t i that a good thing?”

“Not under the terms of the current Colonial Charter.”

Paragraphs flashed through my mind until I focused I on the exact application to domesticated life-forms.

Oh, no. “They’re going to ship you back to your homeworld.”

“Unless I can establish deed with another colonist, yes, I will be sent back to Chakara and resold.”

“That’s unfair.”

“I agree. Can you assist me, Dr. Grey Veil?”

It wasn’t hard to guess what form of help Alunthri wanted. “Are you asking me to take over your deed?”

“Yes.”

“Alunthri, I couldn’t treat you like a domesticated companion,” I said. “In my eyes, you are sentient.”

“Thank you.” Alunthri put Jenner down and prostrated itself before me. “Yet until such status is granted, I must find ownership here on K-2, or be sold. Please, Doctor, help me.”

“Why me?” I asked. “I’m a terrible owner. My work hours really are outrageous. I don’t give Jenner the attention he needs. Why would you want someone like me to own you?”

“Because you would not own me, Doctor.”

The big cat definitely had a point. “What would you do?”

Alunthri rose. “Continue my studies. My former owner was indulgent and allowed me full use of his personal terminal. I am currently studying primitive art and sculpture among aquatic species in this quadrant.”

A giant alien cat who studied art. “Sounds wonderful. What do I have to do to transfer ownership?”

“Simply make a record of acceptance with Colonial Administration.” The colorless eyes watched me closely.

“I’ll file it as soon as I get a few hours’ sleep. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” Invisible lines of tension relaxed throughout the Chakacat’s form, and it smiled. “How can I express my thanks?”

“Let me sleep. As much as possible.”

“Of course.”

I looked around through bleary eyes. “We’ll have to work out our living space.”

Alunthri’s whiskers twitched above a feline grin. “At your convenience.”

“That would be in, oh, say eight hours. I’m going to bed now, before I fall on my face. Do you mind sleeping on the sofa tonight?”

“Not at all.”

I didn’t want to think about what it was going to be like to have two cats, one that could talk back to me. I stumbled over to my sleeping platform and collapsed atop the mattress. An absent thought crossed my mind, and I called out, “Alunthri? Who was your owner?”

“His name was Alun Karas.”

Oh, terrific. “I’m sorry. He was my... patient.” I was mumbling. “I tried... couldn’t save... him...”

Exhaustion pushed me into the dark, and I stayed there. Menacing dreams of an epidemic caused by my own negligence refused to grant me peace. I had missed something. Something important. I was failing everyone.

You saved me, someone murmured next to my ear. You will save others.

The nightmares dwindled away.

Alunthri woke me some nine hours later when a message came in from the FreeClinic. The elegant cat immediately went about serving me breakfast while I listened to a tired Ecla relay updates on all my possible contagion cases.

“The colonists who came in contact with Dalton have all shown improvement during the night.” The Psyoran’s ruffles looked decidedly wilted. “Dalton himself has no more pneumonic symptoms, and is only complaining about his strained back.”

“What about Rogan?”

“Dr. Mayer attended him a few hours ago. He came out of the coma, and his lung condition seems to be responding to the latest antibiotic regime.”

I’d left him dying, and now he was awake and probably giving the inpatient ward as much trouble as he could get away with.

“Ecla, whatever you did while I was sleeping,” I began in a surly tone, then grinned and said, “keep doing it.”

She looked down at her drooping frills and stained tunic. “No, thanks. All I did was clean up patients.

You wouldn’t believe how much mucous a Trytinorn can cough up on you. I think some of them did it on purpose.” She tugged at her collar. “I’ll have to spend an hour under the cleanser.”

“Spend a whole day,” I said. “You deserve it.”

“Oh, I almost forgot - Dr. Mayer would like to see you in his office as soon as you report for shift change.” Ecla added a gentle, rippling gesture of relief. “I’m going home.”

“See me on your next shift. I want to review your chart notes with you.”

“That will be in two days. I’ve got to report to the Botanical projects for another allotment, then I’m off duty.”

“Planting seedlings?” I made a face, recalling my own fiasco.

“Pruning gnorra trees. It’s not bad for an allotment.”

“Better you than me. Thanks, Ecla.” I watched Alunthri’s graceful movements as it began to clean up the remains of my meal, and I touched one paw. “You don’t have to do that, Alunthri.”

“I would like to.”

“Then, you will make me as lazy as His Majesty over there,” I nodded toward my smaller, napping companion. “Make me a promise, Alunthri. Promise that we’ll treat each other as equals.”

“Equals?” The word stunned the Chakacat.

“Sure. That’s what freedom is. Being treated like everyone else is. Since I can’t give it to you out there”-

I swept my hand toward the exterior corridor-“I’ll make sure you have it in here.”

“I don’t know how to respond,” Alunthri said.

I grinned and pushed it into a chair. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you’d like to have for breakfast?”

I made a mental note as I left for work an hour later to contact Ana Hansen and update her on the change of situation in regard to the Chakacat. I had already filed for a new license chip for my new roommate.

The satisfaction this new arrangement brought renewed my spirit. By the time I reached the FreeClinic, I was ready for whatever trouble I was in. I went to MedAdmin and found Dr. Mayer waiting for me in his office.

“Rogan’s lungs are nearly clear now. I removed the chest drain.” Mayer tossed the chart down. “He’s demanding to be discharged and intends to file charges against you for malpractice - again.”

“Good. I’ll file assault charges.”

After the rest of the case histories were reviewed, Mayer paused. We gazed at each other.

“Ever seen anything like this?” I asked.

“No.” The chiefs eyes bored into mine. “Nothing.”

Even though the patients were now recovering, there was no reason they should have gotten sick in the first place. Something had infected them.

If it had been caused by an unknown viral pathogen, it could be in the process of mutation. A virus’s sole purpose was to invade and parasitize host cells for replication purposes. Sometimes the nasty little bugs went into hiding while they adjusted their attack strategy. Viruses borrowed enzymes from the host, even incorporated themselves into a cell’s chromosomes before they began replicating. Such changes in antigenic character could make the virus even more lethal.

I made a last grab at another possibility. “What is the likelihood that we’re looking at some kind of drug-induced condition that mimics contagion? One that progresses depending on the amount introduced to the subject’s system?”

“Analysis indicates no foreign substances, chemical or otherwise.” Mayer held up a stack of data discs.

“The complete report from the lab runs. Toxicology, decon, and bio, all ran clear. Nothing.”

The facts were irrefutable. “There’s no doubt, then. I was wrong.”

“No.” Mayer tossed the discs back on his desk. “Rogan should have died last night. Karas did. Dalton and the rest displayed beginning stages. You have something here, Doctor.”

I wanted to shriek with frustration. “But what is it?”

“You’re going to find out. Effective immediately, you are relieved from Trauma duty and assigned to research this outbreak exclusively.”

I shot to my feet. “What?”

“Sit down, Doctor.”

“You can’t reassign me now!”

“I can, and I have.” Mayer was unyielding. “Sit down.”

I sat. “Why research? For God’s sake, use Crhm, or lab services-“

“Dr. Crhm doesn’t have your talent for diagnosis. He’s a good physician.” The chief’s jawline hardened.

“For this kind of research, I need a genius.”

I scoffed. “I’m not a genius.”

“You’re the daughter of one.” That shut me up. The chief went on to briefly outline what he wanted me to do. Under different conditions, I might have been complimented by Dr. Mayer’s faith in me.

Circumstances that didn’t involve my father’s legacy, pr the lives of the colonists of K-2.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” I said. “If I can’t identify a contagion-“

“Then I suspect you will be working on this for a very long time,” Mayer said. “Or not long at all.” We were both thinking of the same possibility.

Epidemic.

MedAdmin had cleared a large space for my new lab between Clinical Services and Outpatient Testing.

It was set up with a self-contained environment, complete with new room seals and the best equipment Dr. Mayer could put his hands on.

“Very nice,” I said. “All I need is a sleeping platform, and I can move in.”

I spent several hours trying not to grumble while the maintenance crew moved equipment to my specifications. If I failed to find this bug, it wouldn’t be due to lack of resources. That thought made me unusually testy.