Margaritifer Basin (Margaritifer Trilogy Book 1)

by Gregory Gates

  “On our way.” He got the Norco and a glass of water. “Here, take these. They should ease the pain a bit.”

  “Norco?”

  “Uh huh.”

  She whimpered, “I was kind of hoping for morphine.”

  Jeff chuckled. “Yeah, I’ll bet you were. No, morphine’s only for people that are hurt bad.”

  She groaned. “I’m not hurt bad?”

  “Not according to Sue.”

  “What does she know?”

  “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

  “Don’t you dare, she’ll reassemble my leg backwards.”

  He laughed. “Alright. Well, you just lay back and rest, I’m gonna have a chat with Amos about our itinerary.”

  “Huh?”

  “Well, this dune sea runs east-west, and I’m thinking that instead of backtracking we should head west toward the north end of the plain, following the dune troughs. It should get us out of this stuff and onto better ground a lot faster. And Amos knows the plain, since he surveyed the whole thing after he landed. Once we’re out of these hills, he should be able to pick a fast route south back to the station. It’s farther, but it may be faster and more comfortable for you.”

  “Okay. I’m all for that.” She whimpered and sniffed. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

  “Nah, shit happens. Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, me too.”

  * * *

  Susan came into the commons, shaking her head and looking very glum.

  Jeff jumped to his feet. “How bad is it?”

  “Bad. Starting from the top, she probably has a concussion, but a cranial x-ray doesn’t present anything out of the ordinary and it’s probably not serious. We’ll just keep an eye on it. She has a minimally displaced fracture of her left clavicle; in English, a broken collarbone, but it’s not a bad break and should heal well on its own. She has, so far as I can tell, no internal organ damage. But, and here’s the big problem, she has a displaced intra-articular distal femur fracture – a broken leg, and a very bad one, involving the knee joint.”

  Jeff frowned. “What do you mean by… very bad?”

  She bit her lip and looked pensively at him, then down at Gabe, still seated, and shook her head. “I am not an orthopedic surgeon and really can’t give you a definitive prognosis at present but, brace yourselves, if I can’t fix this I may have to amputate.”

  Jeff grimaced. “Oh dear God!”

  Gabe clutched her face in her hands and began crying.

  Jeff dropped into the sofa beside Gabe and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay honey, we’re not gonna let that happen.” He glanced up at Susan. “What do we need to do? What do you need?”

  “I need an orthopedic surgeon.”

  Jeff nodded. “Gabe, come on honey, we need you.”

  Gabe wiped her eyes and whimpered, “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

  “Get on the emergency channel to Chrissie, give her a brief explanation, and have her wake people up.”

  “Who?”

  “The whole goddamn world, everybody. Tell the DSN we have a life-threatening emergency and we need a dedicated antenna. Tell Chrissie to bring in all the troops she needs and find the best orthopedic surgeon in the country and get him or her online to Newport, and standing by. Susan?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’ve got some x-rays which I’ll compress and forward as soon as we’re on an antenna. The surgeon will probably want more. Make certain they understand both our capabilities and limitations, and tell them I’m going to require detailed procedures, very detailed. Pictures would help. And get Rebecca in the MCC, she knows our medical facilities and capabilities as well as anyone. That’ll save time.”

  Jeff helped Gabe up. She nodded. “Okay, on my way.”

  Jeff turned back to Susan. “How’s she doing?”

  “I have her sedated, she is in a lot of pain. Jeff, I’m not going to let her die, she will live. But her leg, I don’t know.”

  “Understood. What can I do?”

  “While we are waiting for a response from Earth, you might want to pray.”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  Gabe stuck her head in the lab, stared at Abby lying on the table, and clutched her chest, gasping.

  Jeff glanced up at her. “How’s it going?”

  She caught her breath. “Um, I just got a WILCO over UHF from Goldstone. We can start sending traffic now; antennas will be aligned before it gets there.”

  Susan nodded. “Good. X-rays and other vital information are in the outbound folder on the comm server.”

  “Okay,” said Gabe, “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Have you heard from Chrissie?” said Jeff.

  “Not yet. She may be waiting for an antenna.”

  “Okay. Let us know.”

  “Alright.” Gabe left for the comm suite.

  Jeff turned back to Susan. “Can you anticipate any needs? Is there anything we can do to get the ball rolling before we get a response?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh god, I don’t know. Um… oh hell, forgot.”

  “What?”

  “They’re going to need something that provides scale. We need to take another x-ray or two. Um, can you find something metal, something that will show up on an x-ray that is exactly six inches long?”

  “How about a stainless steel dial caliper opened to six inches?”

  “Excellent. Get it.”

  Jeff rummaged around in the lab tool chest. “Here.”

  Susan slipped the digital x-ray plate beneath the break in Abby’s leg, swung the x-ray head over it, laid the caliper close beside, and shot. “Perfect. Let me get one more.” She closed the caliper to three inches, laid it sideways beneath the break just above Abby’s knee, and took another picture. “Good. Okay, Jeff, can you compress those and upload them with a brief description to Chrissie?”

  “Will do.”

  Gabe rushed into the lab. “Chrissie just replied. She, Heidi and Robert are in the MCC. Rebecca should be there, well, by now, and most of the rest of the MCC crew that is available are coming online. She has Dr. Leonard Davidson from the Mayo Clinic online. She’s already sent him the initial x-rays and is waiting for a reply.”

  Susan smiled. “Davidson, huh? Well, she went right to the top.”

  “You know him?” said Jeff.

  “No, but I’ve heard of him. He’s the Chair of Orthopedics at Mayo. They don’t come any better.”

  Jeff returned the smile. “That sounds typical of Chrissie’s work.”

  Susan nodded. “Yes it does.”

  “Okay, so what else can we do to try and stay ahead of things?”

  Susan shrugged. “If I had to guess, back on Earth they’ll be thinking about patching this together with a plate and screws. We didn’t anticipate this and don’t have anything like that with us, but we may need to come up with something. For a plate, I don’t know, maybe something like a twelve inch ruler, stainless or titanium. And screws, probably an inch to an inch and a half, also stainless or titanium. See what you can come up with.”

  “Got it. Gabe, send a message to Newport and get somebody to go over every damn schematic we have – everything – looking for anything that might be suitable. Who knows, some support structure off one of the descent modules, I dunno, anything.”

  Gabe nodded. “On my way.”

  Jeff bent over the table, gently hugged Abby, and whispered, “Don’t worry, we’re not going to let you down.”

  “Sue,” said Gabe, rushing back into the lab, “here’s a list of additional x-rays they’d like. Sounds like there are about a dozen orthopedic surgeons working on this.”

  Susan chuckled and patted Abby’s hand. “Seems everybody wants a piece of you.”

  Gabe frowned. “Vultures.”

  “No, it’s good. The more eyes the better.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. There’s a lot of concern about sterile procedures and
the possibility of infection.”

  Susan nodded. “Yeah, I understand. Tell them like it is. Everything up here except us was baked and sterilized before launch. The only germs here are those that the four of us brought, and that’s probably not many. And if we need to sterilize anything, all we have to do is set it outside for a couple minutes. Between the atmosphere, the temperature, and the ultraviolet radiation, nothing will live out there for more than about fifteen seconds, including microorganisms.”

  “Got it.”

  “Any word on procedures yet? This is taking too long.”

  “Nothing yet, but I’m pretty sure they understand the urgency.”

  “Alright. Look, can you transfer the comm console in here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, why don’t you do that. Save you from running around, and when we operate, if I get stuck we’ll have to phone home for instructions, and I’ll want you right here.”

  Gabe gaped at Susan. “You’re going to have to operate?”

  “Yeah, of course. That leg is a train wreck. It’s a jigsaw puzzle, and I’m going to have to put it back together.”

  Gabe stepped over to the table and took Abby’s hand. “How is she?”

  Susan shrugged. “She’s asleep.” Then she glanced at Abby and chuckled. “And from the looks of her boobs, probably dreaming of sex. Which, under the circumstances, would be for the best.”

  Gabe smiled, nodded, leaned over and kissed Abby’s forehead.

  “Relax Gabe, I’m not gonna let her die. She may be a bit gimpy for a while, and more than a bit grumpy, but I’m gonna fix this.”

  Gabe turned around and engulfed Susan in her arms. “I know you will.”

  Gabe turned around from the computer. “Jeff, take a look at this.”

  He left Abby’s side and walked over to her. “What?”

  “There’s a titanium support bracket on the MSL descent stage that should work. Chrissie sent photos to Mayo, and they agree. But it will need some shaping.”

  Jeff looked at the screen. “Okay, yeah, I know the piece. And we’ve got a couple descent stages out back in the junk yard.”

  “Also, there are titanium screws in the MSL aeroshells that are about right.”

  “Oh crap, I’m gonna have to go find one.”

  “Already ahead of you. Here are the approximate coordinates of the nearest three.”

  “Good girl.”

  “They’re drafting a schematic for the plate with exact dimensions based on Sue’s x-rays, and will send it as soon as they have it.”

  “Okay, good. When you get it, print it out to scale. I’m gonna suit up and go find some parts.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No, stay here. Help Sue and stay online.”

  “But you said nobody goes out alone.”

  “We’re gonna make an exception.”

  “Be careful.”

  He kissed her. “I will.”

  Two hours later Gabe helped Jeff out of his suit. “How’d it go?”

  “I got ‘em. The screws were a bitch. They were epoxied in, but I finally got enough out… I hope. How’s Abby?”

  “She came to about a half hour ago. She’s alright, hanging in there.”

  “Did you get the schematic?”

  “Yes, it’s right here.” She handed him a couple sheets of paper.

  “Alright, I’ll get to work on it right away. How’s Sue doing?”

  “She’s going over the surgical instructions and marking up Abby’s leg.”

  Jeff sighed. “This is gonna be interesting.”

  “Yeah. I get to handle the anesthetic while you assist her in piecing Abby’s leg back together.”

  “Oh great. Alright,” he held up a metal bar, “I’m gonna go to work on this.”

  “Okay. Sue wants to operate as soon as it’s ready.”

  “Got it.”

  Gabe headed back for the lab and Jeff turned to the tool chest. For the next hour and a half he hammered, ground, drilled and polished, shaping the titanium bar to match – exactly – the schematic provided by the Mayo Clinic orthopedic surgeons. When satisfied, Jeff took the plate, screws, and schematics to the lab and handed them to Susan.

  She carefully scrutinized the plate and laid it on the schematics to check dimensions. She smiled, clearly struggling to hold back tears. “Jesus, Jeff, it’s a work of art.”

  “Thanks.”

  Susan took the plate and screws to the fume hood and dropped them all in a freshly prepared dish of aqua regia. “This will remove any remaining surface impurities.” Following that, she repeatedly rinsed them in distilled water. “Jeff, go get cleaned up and change into scrubs. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll get started.”

  “Alright.” He stopped by Abby, leaned over and stroked her cheek. “How are you doing?”

  “Okay. It doesn’t hurt quite as much now. But I’m a little scared.”

  He smiled. “You’ll be fine.”

  She took his hand. “Thanks for bringing me back.”

  “No problem. Your mother would have had my head on platter if I didn’t.”

  Abby grinned and nodded.

  “Okay, you just relax. We’ll get you all fixed up shortly.”

  Susan stood at Abby’s head and glanced around the makeshift operating theater. “Everybody ready?”

  Gabe and Jeff nodded.

  She glanced at Abby. “How about you?”

  Abby smiled softly. “How long will it take?”

  “Well, the folks at Mayo could probably do it in two to three hours. I imagine it will take us a bit longer.”

  “Then I guess you better get started.”

  “Okay.” Susan injected a milliliter of 1% lidocaine into Abby’s IV, then started a 4 ml per second Diprivan drip. “Now, relax and go to sleep. We’ll see you in a bit.”

  Abby nodded and closed her eyes.

  Thirty seconds later, Susan reduced the drip to 10 ml per minute, and in another 10 seconds Abby was out cold. “Alright, she’s asleep.” She inserted an endotracheal tube, taped it down and connected Abby to the ventilator. “Okay, Gabe, she’s all yours. In 10 minutes reduce the Diprivan drip to 6 ml per minute, and keep an eye on her vitals.”

  Gabe traded places with her and nodded. “Got it.”

  Susan uncovered Abby’s deformed leg, stared at it, took a deep breath, sighed, and shook her head. “God be merciful.”

  Jeff held out a scalpel.

  After five hours of incisions, manipulations, x-rays, plate insertion, drilling, screw insertions, and sutures, Susan dropped into a chair, hung her head and sighed. “That’s it. That’s the best I can do.”

  Jeff looked over Abby’s leg and smiled. “Looks good. Except for some swelling, it looks like it’s supposed to.”

  Susan nodded.

  He glanced at the video screen and the most recent x-ray. “God, Sue, it’s beautiful. What a job.”

  “Yeah. I just hope it’s right.” She slowly rose, turned off the Diprivan drip, disconnected the ventilator and removed the tracheal tube. “Jeff, would you take a couple photos before she wakes up, and send them off with the final set of x-rays? We’ll see what the folks at Mayo have to say. If there is anything to be adjusted or corrected we’ll do it in a couple days after we’ve all had some rest.”

  “Alright.”

  Sue attached a syringe to Abby’s IV. “Gabe, slowly squeeze this in over about a minute and a half.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “50 micrograms of Fentanyl.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A strong pain killer. Diprivan is just an anesthesia, not an analgesic, so it’s not a painkiller. When Abby comes to she’ll be in a lot of pain. Fentanyl is strong synthetic opioid analgesic, and will moderate the pain.”

  “Okay.”

  Ten minutes later Abby was awake.

  Susan hovered over her. “How do you feel?”

  “Woozy.”

  “It will pass.”
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  “Are you done?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “How did it go?”

  “I think it went well. It wasn’t quite as hard as I thought it would be, it just took a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Five hours.”

  “Will I be able to walk again?”

  “Yes. But don’t rush into it. You’ve got a lot of healing to do.”

  Abby nodded and clutched Susan’s hand. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Try not to do it again, it’s a lot of work.”

  Abby grinned. “Okay.”

  “Alright, I’m going to keep you in here tonight so I can monitor you. If there aren’t any complications, we’ll move you into your room tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Right answer. Now, get some rest.”

  “Okay.”

  Two hours later, Jeff gently shook a sleeping Susan.

  She bolted upright. “What? Is Abby okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. Sorry to wake you, but we just received a message from Mayo and I thought you’d want to see it.”

  “Okay.” She slowly pulled herself out of the chair and stretched, then followed Jeff to the comm terminal, and read.

  From: Mayo Clinic (Davidson)

  To: Grey Station, Mars (Lú)

  Doctor Lú, we are all standing around marveling at the photos and x-rays. My compliments on an exquisite piece of work. I doubt we could have done better here.

  When you return to Earth, if you want a job, look me up.

  Leo Davidson, M.D.

  Susan turned around, clutched Jeff, and broke down in tears.

  Wednesday, January 18, 2017

  MSD 50852.396 (Sol 102)

  Jeff stared at Abby lying on the lab exam table and shook his head. “Okay, how are we going to do this?”

  Susan tossed him a blanket. “Same way we got her in here.”