by GARY DARBY
“Two hemo-pacs and morphinate,” TJ answered. “But I’ve also given him gramocillin and Blyneol for the infection and fever.”
The doctor looked around at the small crowd that had gathered, motioned to the table’s endpiece, and said to Granger, “Put my kit down there.”
He then asked, “Who’s in charge here?”
Brant stepped forward. “I am.”
“Then get everyone out of the infirmary,” the doctor ordered. “I don’t need gawkers.”
He turned to TJ. “You stay and help since you seem to have been taking care of my patient.”
With a dismissive wave toward Brant, he turned and began rummaging through his dark-green kit bag. With a bemused expression, Brant motioned with one hand and ordered, “You heard the doctor, everyone out, let him do his work.”
Dason followed Brant and Granger into the passenger compartment where Brant asked Granger, “So, what’s the story with him? How did you convince him to fly out here with you?”
Granger was quick to reply, “I’m not exactly sure. Lia and I found the med facility, and were quietly debating how to approach someone when he came up to us.”
With a lop-sided smile, Granger went on. “He said that we looked like people who had gotten ourselves into some sort of fool mischief, and didn’t know how to get ourselves out.”
Granger scratched at his head. “I guess I fumbled around by saying we were brand-new dune-diggers and that we had a partner hurt, but he was back at our camp.
“He stopped me before I could go on and in that bearlike voice of his said, ‘Are you asking me to make a house call out on the flats with a sea-blizzard in the forecast? Preposterous, presumptuous, and impractical’.”
Granger laughed. “I admit it, the man intimidated me. At that point, I couldn’t speak straight if my life depended on it. I thought someone had dosed me big-time with fuzz-brain.
He pointed at his companion. “Lia bailed me out, telling the doc that we were afraid to move Sami because of his critical condition and that he was deteriorating and could he pretty please make this one exception?
“He then asked what was wrong, and she had barely mentioned the Aal, when he spun away, came back a minute later with his kit bag and asked what we were waiting for.”
Teasing, Brant said, “Wow, I’ve never known you to be intimidated. Good thing I sent Lia with you, at least she kept a level head.”
Raising both hands and shrugging in agreement, Granger laughed, “I admit it, never happened until now, but it definitely occurred this time. So we loaded up and boosted out.”
“Well, good job to the both of you,” Brant remarked. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to pull it off.”
Granger’s expression grew serious, and he asked, “Thanks and what about the shard? What did we get?”
Brant quickly explained and when he finished, Granger asked, “So, what now, are we at a dead end?”
Shaking his head, Brant answered with a deep frown. “In all honesty, I don’t know. Once we get Sami patched up, we’ll have to make some decisions on what’s our next step.”
“Then, in the meantime,” Granger replied, “I suggest we put the Zephyrs in standby emergency boost-out mode.”
Dason’s head snapped up. “Trouble?” he asked.
“Maybe,” Granger answered and turned to Lia. “You tell’em what you saw.”
“Two people,” Lia explained, “a man and a woman, both dressed in the usual garb for around here picked us up as we left the hospital. They followed us and we had to duck in and out of some buildings to try and shake them.”
“Did you lose them?” Brant asked.
Lia shook her head. “Not sure. While Granger took the doc out to the ship, I double-backed to try and spot them.”
She pressed her lips tight together. “I don’t think we should assume that we got away from the city clean.”
“You think it was Faction?” Brant questioned.
“I’m afraid that might be the case,” Granger responded. “Can’t be certain, but Doctor Baier had the same concern, too.”
“If,” Lia spoke up, “they followed us out to the Zephyr and got a good look at the ship, they probably recognized its profile as Star Scout.”
Brant bit down on his lower lip, an anxious look on his face. “You’re probably right and we can’t afford to take the chance that they didn’t see the scouter.”
He peered up at Lia and ordered, “See that the other Zephyrs are in flight-ready mode. If we have to scramble out of here, make sure the rondy point coordinates are preprogrammed.”
“Still the fifth planet out?” Lia asked.
“Yes,” Brant quickly affirmed.
Lia spun on her heel and hustled through the airlock and into the biting wind. “Dason,” Brant continued, “start your preflight routine here. I want us to be ready to jump if I have to yell ‘frog’.”
“On it,” Dason answered and headed for the pilot’s pod.
Brant turned to Shanon. “When the doctor finishes with Sami, I want him to check you out, too.”
Shanon started to object, but Brant raised a hand to stop her. “I know, I know, you say you’re okay. Nevertheless, since we’ve managed to get a doctor here, you get looked at as well.”
Brant turned to Granger. “You and I are going to use the science station compu to see if we can find anything in the data banks on Pegasi that would give us any idea where the Faction might be holding Tor’al, if he is on this planet.”
A half hour later, Dason and Shanon sat in the Zephyr’s pilot pod, having gone over the flight program twice and discussing the Gadion’s message on the memory shard.
Neither had any more inkling as to whether or not the Faction had given them a clue to Tor’al’s whereabouts.
Anxious over Sami’s condition, every so often Dason craned his neck toward the med bay to see if the doctor had come out with any news on Sami.
He was about to go over his flight controls a fourth time when Shanon tapped him on the arm and cocked her head aft. “The doctor’s coming out.”
Dason informed Brant via the comms and followed Shanon as they made their way through the troop cabin to meet the physician in the passageway. Doctor Baier put his pudgy hands on his hips and leaned back.
Dason could hear tiny cracking sounds as the doctor stretched out his back. “Can’t stay bent over for very long these days,” the doctor remarked. “Kinda hurts.”
Chuckling, he said, “Might have to see a doctor about what ails me. Soon as I can find one that knows what he’s doing.”
He glanced around at the four who had gathered around, reached back into the med bay and brought out a small, clear container. Several tiny, maple-colored organisms, not much bigger than toothpicks, wiggled on the cup’s bottom.
“He’ll be all right now,” the doctor said. “Got these out of him, sterilized the nest, and sealed the wound.”
“The nest, doctor?” Brant prompted.
Doctor Baier motioned them forward. “Let’s sit for a spell, and I’ll explain.”
They strode into the troop compartment and sat in the captain-style chairs. They swiveled around so that they faced each other and listened with rapt expressions to the doctor.
He turned to Dason and asked, “Ever wonder why they’re called ‘Sliver’ Aals when the one you pulled out was half as big as your arm?”
Holding up the cup so that all could see, he said, “Because this is what they look like when they’re born. If they weren’t squirming it’d be hard to tell the difference between them and small slivers of wood.”
Shanon gasped out, “Those were inside Sami?”
“Yep,” the doctor replied. “You see, whoever helped you in getting that adult Aal out neglected to tell you that their feeding serves two purposes, first, to get the nutrients and liquid the adult needs to survive, and second, it activates the birthing process.
“While the Aal is attached to the aorta, it builds a small membrane and fill
s it full of blood. It then deposits its living young into the sac and seals it up. The fry feed on the blood and start growing.
“Aal young give off a toxin but that membrane acts as a one-way filter and pushes the poison out of the blood medium and into the host’s body.
“At first, in humans, it makes you feel as if you’ve got just about the worst case of food poisoning in the history of humankind.
“Then it gets serious. The liver, the body’s detox center, tries to filter the toxin out, but this stuff is so potent that it begins to kill the liver tissue and eventually you die.
“By that time the Aal are capable of surviving on their own, and they exit the body to begin adult life as sandworms.”
The doctor gave a little shake of his head. “Nasty little buggers, aren’t they?”
“But Sami will be okay?” Dason asked.
In a matter-of-fact tone, the doctor replied, “The surgical site will heal up nicely in three or four days. His blood pressure is rising, but it’s the toxin that’s the greatest threat.
“As I said, it’s pretty potent stuff, I’ll need to filter his blood about every twelve hours to help his liver wash it out of his system. That should take a couple of days.
“Once his blood chemistry returns to normal, give him a day or two to recuperate, and you can put him on light duty.”
He glanced around. “Which I don’t think will have anything to do with sand-traps.”
Brant cautiously asked, “What do you mean, doctor?”
The doctor guffawed hard enough that his belly shook. “Oh, come now. You’re not dune-diggers.”
Pointing toward Granger, he laughed again. “Your momma obviously wasted her money on those acting lessons you took. Even brand-new trappers know enough to wear body suits so that Aals can’t get to them and besides, what would diggers be doing on Pegasi and not Marsten’s World?”
With a bemused expression, Granger jutted his chin at Shanon and Dason. “Didn’t do too well at fooling them either, but that’s another story for another time.”
“Must be an inside joke, “Doctor Baier chuckled as he let his eyes take in the group. “In the meantime, if I were to make an educated guess, I would say I’m sitting with a bunch of Star Scouts.”
Leaning toward Brant, his voice took on a deeper tenor. “Which is mighty interesting considering there’s a general recall of all scouts, and there’s a systemwide broadcast to be on the alert for some scouts that have gone rogue, turned outlaw, in fact.”
He turned questioning eyes toward Brant with his head cocked to one side. “That wouldn’t be you now, would it?”
Chapter Seventeen
Star date: 2443.097
Alpha Pegasi Three
Guffawing, Doctor Baier eased back in his chair and swept a hand toward the silent and nervous scouts. “From your expressions, I believe the idiom would be, ‘the gig’s up.’”
Brant and the doctor stared at each other until Brant cleared his throat and said, “Look doctor, we don’t know you, you don’t know us, and yes, we’re scouts but we haven’t gone rogue or turned outlaw.
“We are truly appreciative of what you’ve done for our teammate. Frankly, it would be best if we just left it at that. We’ll pay for your services, of course.”
The doctor waved a dismissive hand in response. “Not concerned about payment; am worried about my young patient, and since we’re being frank, you should be worried about getting him and you off this planet alive.”
Dason sat up straight at hearing the doctor’s pronouncement. He glanced over at Shanon, who returned his look with raised eyebrows.
Brant stated, “Would you care to explain that?”
“Sure,” the doctor replied and waved a hand towards Granger, “I wasn’t the only one who overheard his cock and bull story. Why do you think I got you out of there so fast?”
He let out a deep sigh. “In this part of the sector, you might as well call Kardis City Faction Central these days, and you walked right into it.”
Brant slapped at his comms. “Lia, anything on the scope?”
Lia instantly replied, “Scope is clear.”
“Good,” Brant answered, “stay on it, we might be getting some visitors soon.”
Brant turned to the doctor, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. “This blood-filtering process that you mentioned, can one of us perform the procedure and is it something you can teach us to do?”
“Yes and no,” the doctor replied. “Do you have a certified medical laboratory technician in your company?”
“Uh, no,” Brant answered. “Why?”
“Because,” the doctor explained, “while the actual filtering process is relatively straightforward, analyzing the blood chemistry is not, and adjusting the filtering process to the chemistry level is a crucial element.”
“Can’t you just do a blood transfusion,” Shanon asked, “and simply replace Sami’s bad blood with good?”
“No, my dear, I can’t,” Baier replied bluntly.
“His body tissue, particularly the liver, has absorbed a fair amount of the toxin. Over the next several days, the tissue will exude the poison.
“Some will get back into the bloodstream, and if you’ve done a blood replacement, it’s simply going to poison the new. That’s why you have to establish a filtering regimen to remove the poison.”
“So,” Brant questioned, “are you saying that we’ve got to transport Sami to the hospital?”
“Too dangerous,” Dason interjected. “If there are Faction out looking for us as the doctor said, once they find out that Sami was there they’d come looking for him.”
“I wasn’t suggesting,” Brant answered curtly, “that we’d just leave him there alone. But you heard the doctor; he needs access to a med lab.”
“Hold on,” Doctor Baier interjected. “Don’t get yourselves in crossed orbits. First thing, I wouldn’t let you take him there.”
“Why not?” Brant demanded.
“Like this youngster stated, too dangerous,” Baier snapped back. “For him, the staff, not to mention the other patients there.”
“But doctor,” Brant replied, “you just said—”
“I know what I just said,” Baier groused in response. “I’m old, but not so old that I can’t remember what I just said two minutes ago.”
He scratched at his nose and asked, “I take it that you’re thinking of boosting out of here right quick like?”
“If we have to, yes,” Brant answered. “But we’ve got to find a workable scenario for Sami.”
“No reason you still shouldn’t hot-jet it out of here,” Baier replied. “In fact, under the circumstances, I would suggest it as an excellent course of action.”
“But what about Sami?” Dason asked, “How will we—”
“Me,” Baier stated. “I’ll go with you. Between what you have in your infirmary and my kit-bag, I can rig up a porta-lab of sorts and a filtering device.
“It won’t have all the gizmos of a full-up lab, of course, but it’ll do just fine for what I need. Moreover, with what medicines you have on board, and what I brought with me, I should be able to balance your friend’s blood chemistry.
“I’ll tag along until my patient is back on his feet and then you can drop me off at the nearest civilized or at least, semicivilized planet.”
“What about your practice here?” Shanon asked.
Baier shrugged his large shoulders and waved a hand at her. “My contract was up in a couple of weeks and my relief was already here. I was just sand-skatin’ until the monthly freighter showed up, and I could book passage.”
He glanced around at the group and huffed, “Well, how about it? I give your mate back there the medical care he needs; you get me off this planet a few days sooner and save me the cost of a ticket. Not to mention, getting out of the Faction crosshairs.”
“You don’t know where we’re going,” Brant pointed out. “Nor can we promise to drop you off at a ‘semiciviliz
ed’ planet any time soon. It is just about certain that if you remain with us, you will be going in harm’s way.”
The doctor ran his fingers through his beard and considered Brant’s statement for several seconds.
“I appreciate your candor,” the doctor replied, “but the truth is that if you take me back to the med facility, there’s a pretty good chance that I might get some visitors in the dead of night, and unlike you, they won’t be seeking medical care.
“So, you see, it would appear that either way, I would be traveling in harm’s way. But given a choice, I think I would prefer going your way.”
Dason could see from Brant’s dubious expression that he was having doubts and struggling with the situation. He understood his predicament, to put a scout in a dangerous situation was par for the course, but to place a civilian in danger wasn’t anything he relished.
Brant glanced at Granger and asked, “What do you think?”
Granger shook his head in answer. “Nothing in the book to cover this, but under the circumstances, it appears that we need him as much as he needs us.”
“I—” Brant began but stopped in mid-sentence.
He reached into his torso vest’s side pocket and brought out the flask that he had taken from the Faction hideout. He muttered, “Meant to put this on ice in the sci-station. Hope my body heat didn’t degrade it.”
Doctor Baier took one look at the vial and immediately rose to his feet and held out his hand. “May I see that, young man?”
“Sure,” Brant replied and handed him the small tubular flask.
Baier held the bottle up to the light and let the liquid swish around as he peered at the container. The fluid seemed to change color under the light from a yellow-white to a dark gold. “Where did you get this?” he asked sharply.
“In what we believe is a Faction complex,” Brant replied. “Same place that Sami picked up his Sliver Aal.
“The Faction thug we captured said the flask contained Sand Porpoise blood that he used to bait his traps to catch Aals. Found that a little strange so I thought I’d bring it back and see if I could run an analysis on it.”
“Uh uh,” Baier muttered and uncorked the bottle. He took a whiff and immediately put the stopper back in the tubular container. He took a deep breath and held the flask out in front of him as if what he held was unclean and disgusting.