DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and is copyright (c) 2000 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
Unto Space We Commend Thy Spirit
(Part 2)
by Djinn
Christine watched with satisfaction as the
isolation area was raised. The walls were set up first, fixed in place easily
as the corpsmen moved the gravlocks into the secure position. Then the crews
went to work on the decon fields.
Carpenter joined her on the grass. Her face
was difficult to see through the respirator. She pointed at the men working.
"I need to borrow them when they're through here. I want to put in an
examination room, and a waiting area for those we think might be infected. Someplace
they can come that we can still control." She glanced around at the large
town that began at the edge of the field. "I don't want to set up shop
there."
"No problem." Christine motioned
the ranking medic over and instructed him to report to the other doctor when
his crew was done with the isolation area. As he walked away she turned back to
Carpenter. Pointing to the people already starting to congregate at the guarded
barrier that they had erected at the field's edge she grimaced. "I can't believe
they are doing that. One infected person in there and they could all come down
with it."
"I know, Commander. I'm appalled too.
But they may not be affected."
Christine nodded. "We'll know more when
Commander Farrell and I start the surveys. The Minister's office is supposed to
be bringing by a list of all the Canarans that have died. Once we have that we
can start tracking down the possible infected members."
The beep of Christine's communicator caught
their attention. The transporter chief announced that Moorehouse was beaming
down with Sovar. They waited till the two had fully materialized before walking
over to them.
"Commander Moorehouse, I imagine you
want to inspect your facility?"
"Yes." Moorehouse strode off,
already calling out to the medics to make adjustments to the field.
Christine turned to Sovar. "I'm a bit
surprised to see you down here."
The young Vulcan nodded somberly. "I
have been talking with others in the diplomatic section. We wish to help. But
we know that caring for the sick is perhaps not the best way to do this. I have
come to find out how we can assist your team."
Christine thought for a moment. She couldn't
have them in the hot area. But the surveys were intensive and tedious. The more
hands on those the better. "Thank you for the offer. I do intend to take
you up on it but it may be a few days before we need you. We plan to conduct
surveys in the town and surrounding smaller populated areas. But first we need
to map the extent of the virus' reach. Once we do that we can demarcate the
active zone from the safe areas, and safe is a relative turn, even they may not
be totally free of illness. We will need you to conduct surveys, look for
indigenous wildlife as well as domesticated companion animals for sampling. As
soon as we have completed our contagion map we will call you down."
Sovar seemed satisfied with her plan.
"An efficient use of our skills."
"Thank you, Mr. Sovar. Now please, get
back up to the ship, this area will soon be ground zero."
He did not argue and after he had beamed up
she and Carpenter turned back to watch the final touches of the building go up.
Moorehouse was in the thick of the construction and Christine chuckled as she
watched the other woman. "Come on," she said to Carpenter,
"let's go see if she needs help."
They walked slowly, still getting used to the
tight fitting hazard uniforms. Christine could already feel a blister forming
around her right ankle where her boot was pressing the tight pant leg into her
skin. If all I get is a blister out of this I'll be damned lucky, she thought
as she tried to ignore the rubbing.
Moorehouse looked up as the other doctors
approached. "It's solid, Commander. Containment is perfect according to my
readings. I'm going to check a couple other different ways but I think we're a
go. I'll have the beds, supplies, and medicines beamed down while the crew
construct the decon showers and set up the suits. Then we'll be ready for
customers."
Christine smiled at her enthusiasm.
Moorehouse was a seasoned professional, this was no callow show of good
spirits, she was truly looking forward to the challenge of beating back another
disease, of saving some, maybe many, lives. Christine again felt a surge of
respect flow through her for the woman.
Carpenter explained her plans to set up an
examination area and Moorehouse expressed approval, even had some suggestions
for making it work better. Christine left the two designing the waiting room
and walked over to the barrier.
The guards, already very alert, snapped to
attention. "Sir."
"At ease," she said immediately.
"Have any of the citizens tried to get in."
"No, Sir." One of the marines, an
older woman that Christine remembered as Sergeant Mandra, explained, "They
have stayed well back from the barrier. They seem more curious than anything
else. Several of the children asked about our respirators."
"What did you say?"
"That it was to help us stay well, that
we weren't used to their air."
"Close enough. Don't need a panic. And
this thing may not be airborne. Until we know for sure though, I want you in
respirators whenever you stand duty on the planet. Understood."
"Yes, Sir."
Taking a last look at the villagers, some of
whom had brought picnic lunches out to eat as they watched the activity,
Christine walked back to the main camp. She picked a place off to the side for
the spot she would have the crew erect her office. Not just hers, she imagined
others would find it useful also. Then she took out her tricorder and setting
it on broad scan she searched the area for fauna. In rodents alone, one of the
most likely animal vectors, she counted eight varieties in the fields and
wooded areas, three in the urban area, and three flying ones. Insects were
incredibly numerous as well. There were companion animals similar to cats, a
wild creature somewhere between a dog and a fox, several large livestock
animals, and numerous birds, reptiles, and fish. She scanned again.
Interesting. No non-human primates.
She opened her communicator, heard Saldusta
respond. "Yes, Commander?"
"Is Lt. Kavall there?"
"Yes, Sir," the science officer
answered.
"Lieutenant, could you run a planet-wide
scan. Categorize all fauna by genus and species--you may have to
cross-reference against the Ministry's databanks--and give an earth equivalent
if possible. Send me the data once you have it."
"Yes, Sir. Anything else?"
"No. Chapel out." She turned back
to her scans. She would wait to see what Kavall's scans showed but at this
point she thought the rodents were the most likely host of the virus. Perhaps
one of these varieties was new to the area. It was as good if not better a
theory than any of the others she had heard. Whatever caused this disease was
an interloper. The Ministry said that they had no record of a similar epidemic,
or even isolated cases, ever taking place.
She heard several voices and turned to see
some medics approaching. "Is this where you want the office, Sir?"
"Yes. And that area over there,"
she pointed to the vast expanse between the isolation area and the barrier,
"I want to be the staging area for the air cars. We need a decon unit and
a resting area for the drivers. I also want you to cordon off an area to be
used for transporting personnel in and out. I want it at least 50 meters from
the isolation area, so that should put it just in front of the staging
area."
"Yes, Sir," the senior crewwoman
said as she and her team set to work.
Christine took a final look around and pulled
out her communicator. "Carter, one to beam up."
******************
30 hours later, the containment area was
completely transformed. The only constant was the group of townspeople still
watching at the barrier.
Christine walked with several nurses from the
beam-down point to the diagnostic area. The young women were complaining about
their respirators, but Christine ignored them. She turned to look at the
containment area; from here she could see nothing of what went on inside. She
knew from her frequent trips down to the planet and from the reports constantly
being sent up to the ship that there were now 33 patients in the area. More
were on their way from the several nearby urban areas. They were being moved in
the Federation air cars in special negative-pressure isolation units. The
families of those infected were being surveyed. Those that had had close
contact would be brought along for observation. Those that were not deemed in
immediate danger were given special miniaturized tricorder-communicators and
were instructed to activate the machines three times a day. Their vital
functions would be relayed automatically to the medical unit responsible for
tracking their readings. If anyone failed to call in, even once, an air car
would be immediately dispatched to bring him or her in.
Christine watched as several Canarans who had
apparently been exposed to the disease were sent out of the diagnostic area to
a special holding area Carpenter and Moorehouse had asked to be set up. There
were three stages but only the first one was in use at the moment. For the
first week, which from the records they had received from the Ministry appeared
to be the incubation period, the person under watch was fairly isolated,
staying within their own families and not allowed to gather for group
activities. Anyone who broke with symptoms was moved at once to the containment
area. Whoever proved clean after a week was transferred to the second area
where they would remain for another seven days. This stage allowed more contact
and the people within could congregate in small groups. The final stage was at
the very outskirts of the camp and had no protocols except that the person
could not leave the area until the final week was over. Christine anticipated
that this area would be the area most likely to give rise to problems as
boredom overcame fear and the people looked for outlets to their restlessness.
She had worked with Troi to install plenty of entertainment for the children
and adults. She had been surprised when several of the priests had come to her
and volunteered to stay in the area and offer comfort and religious instruction
to the people within. They had understood that they would not be able to leave
the area once they entered it. Troi had agreed with her initial assessment that
their presence could only be a good thing so she had allowed them to set up.
As she entered the waiting portion of
Carpenter's section she saw a number of people waiting to be seen by the
doctors. Anyone already showing symptoms was taken directly to the containment
area. These people here were primarily the close friends and families of the
victims that were either inside the other building or already dead. They had
seen their loved ones die a horrible death and were now in this place because
they too might be infected. Christine could almost feel their fear.
"Commander." Carpenter's voice
startled her out of her reverie. "I'm going over to start my shift at GZ.
You want to come?"
Christine nodded and they set out for the
containment area. The crew had already dubbed it Ground Zero or GZ for short.
As good a name as any, she supposed. It was accurate if not exactly optimistic.
They passed several sets of guards before
they came to the entryway. The sound of a scuffle caught Christine's attention
and she turned to watch as several medics were trying to guide a young man into
GZ. At first he seemed calm but when he saw the decon shield and the personnel
in full biosafety suits waiting beyond it he began to panic.
"No! Please don't take me in there. It's
only a little fever. And an occasional nosebleed. I have them all the time.
Really." His struggles intensified the closer they came. "No, please.
If I go in I'll never come out again. Please!"
"Damn it," Carpenter had moved
quickly and grabbed a hypo spray from her pack. She had the youth sedated in a
matter of seconds. As he stood numbly, waiting to be moved in, she turned on
the medics. "The idea is to keep the patient calm. Next time sedate first.
I don't want to see a repeat of this. Understood?" As her staff moved the
young man into the decon shield she walked back to Christine.
"If he had been actively bleeding, what
we just saw..."
Carpenter didn't let Christine finish,
"I know. It could have been catastrophic." She pulled out a tricorder
and gave the area a thorough scan. "No evidence of blood, not even trace.
We were lucky."
Christine nodded, satisfied that this would
not happen again. They moved into the first decon shield. Christine felt a
tingle as the field did its work. This area served no purpose except being a
gray area between the outside and the hot area. A second shield let them into
the changing area, which was the beginning of the negative pressure rooms,
designed to keep the infectious agents inside. The suits they would put on were
positive pressure, which would keep the pathogens away from them. They changed
carefully and bypassing the showers walked through the third shield into the
area that the patients first saw as they entered. A fourth shield stood between
them and the wards. Christine took a deep breath and stepped through. She
imagined the tingle as her suit made contact with the field. Once she was clear
of the decon shield her mind started imagining little armies of viruses
attacking her suit. She would get sick; she would be the next one they had to
drag into GZ. For a moment she felt blind panic and wanted to run from the
room. She fought the feeling and took a step into the ward. Then another. By
the time she was in the middle of the room the need for flight had subsided.
Moorehouse had divided the room up into
wards. Those patients in whom the virus had recently broken were in the area
closest to the door. She looked around for the young man that had just been
admitted and saw that the nurses were already administering fluids and
antiviral support.
"This area is where we can make the
greatest difference," Moorehouse's voice sounded in her helmet. She moved
into Christine's field of vision. "The sooner we begin supportive therapy
the greater the chance we have to get the patient through this thing."
"You're using antivirals? Ebola and
Marburg don't respond to them."
"We don't know that this is an Ebola
type virus. It could be more like Lassa, which does respond. In any case, the
antivirals we are using here have a low incidence of side effects. They can't
hurt."
"Are you going to try immune sera as
well?"
"Yes," Moorehouse motioned them to
follow her as she continued talking. "Dr. Redmoon is isolating some even
as we speak. We don't have that many patients to make it from yet because of
those that survived only a few have been willing to come forward to give blood.
But now that we have the patients here we will have a ready supply of donors.
Even if they aren't quite willing," she added grimly.
Christine watched the patients become
increasingly ill as they progressed through the isolation levels. Finally they
came to the last area. The patients here were gone, shells at best. Their eyes
were red and did not close any longer, their faces already set in a death mask.
The sheets that covered the mattresses were soaked with blood as their insides
bled out from all available orifices, and some newly created. One old woman had
tears in her skin where the flesh had dissolved away. Christine swallowed bile
as she took in the scene.
"Horrible, isn't it," Carpenter
whispered.
Moorehouse turned to look at her closely.
"You aren't going to throw up are you?" When Christine shook her
head, the other doctor continued to study her. "This isn't for everyone,
Commander. It's no strike against you if you can't take it."
Resolutely Christine let out the breath she
hadn't realized she had been holding. "No. I can do this. It just takes
some getting used to."
"Ok." Moorehouse's attention moved
from Christine to a young woman in a far bed who, unlike most of the patients,
was moving. "Shit!" Moorehouse moved quickly to help, the other doctors
following.
"Epileptic seizure." Carpenter
explained.
A nurse that had been working close to the
bed was already trying to help, but the patient began to thrash as the grand
mal seizure took her. "Doctor?" the nurse nearly screamed as her suit
was splashed. There was a thick layer of blood dripping down her faceplate.
"Hold her down," Moorehouse
instructed.
The nurse grabbed the shoulders, watched as
her hands caused the delicate skin to separate. "Oh god," she said as
she held up her gloved hands, now covered in blood. She started to try to
remove them. "Noooo," her moan was past hysterical.
Christine moved to stop her, "No
don't!" She knew in her heart she would be too late.
The whine of a phaser rang out and the nurse
slumped to the ground. A marine that Christine had not even noticed moved aside
to let two medics by. They lifted the nurse carefully and carried her out of
the room.
Christine turned to the guard, who even under
the thick faceplate looked shaken. "Well done, you just saved her
life."
"Yes, sir." The marine looked at
the patient that had been seizuring. "Not hers though."
Christine glanced at the corpse. "She
was beyond saving, soldier."
Moorehouse finished removing the life support
equipment. She instructed the medics to take the body to a small room off the
main ward.
Christine followed her, leaving Carpenter to
take care of the patients. "I don't remember this room in the plans."
"It wasn't. I realized that we hadn't
allowed for a place to do autopsies or prepare corpses. I had this added at the
last minutes." She started taking samples that she would send up to the
lab. "Commander, we still haven't worked out an adequate arrangement with
the families and the priests on the burials. They expect us to hand over the
bodies to them immediately. Their customs allow too much exposure with a corpse
that is just as hot as the living patient was. We need to convince them to let
us prepare the bodies."
"I'll get working on it."
Moorehouse called in two medics to prepare
the body. "As it is now, we'll double wrap the body. And they'll unwrap it
as soon as they get it home. Then they'll bathe it. Do you know what that
really means? They clean up all the waste and blood, *all* of it...outside and
inside...with their hands. One cut and the virus has a new host. It defeats the
whole purpose of containment."
"I understand. Maybe diplomatic can
help. That's what they're here for, right?"
Moorehouse looked unconvinced but nodded
grudgingly. "Put the diplomats on it, about damn time they started earning
their pay around here."
*******************************
"I must go in."
Christine was walking back from town where
she had been conducting surveys of the families of the deceased when she saw
the High Priest arguing with the guards at the barrier.
He saw the guards react to her presence and
turned. "Ah, it is you. You are in charge of this abomination."
"I am in charge of the medical mission,
yes." She refused to rise to his bait. "How can I help you?"
"Let me in. My people need me."
"I'm afraid that's impossible. If we let
you in then we can't let you back out."
"Yet you move freely back and
forth." His tone was sarcastic.
"I also wear protective clothing and
equipment, walk through special forcefields, and take frequent decontamination
showers." She pulled him aside. "Your holiness," he didn't
grimace at the title so she continued, "there is a way you can protect
your people, all your people both here and outside."
"How?"
"For the duration of this epidemic we
need your people to allow us to prepare the bodies of their loved ones for
burial. Once we have done so they must not be disturbed. Your support in this
matter would be of immeasurable help."
"The funeral traditions are quite
specific. Kormox himself dictated them. To change would be to admit defeat to
this disease, to say it has power greater than Kormox. We all know that our god
will protect those who worship him. They have only to pay him the proper
respect. To ignore the needs of the dead would be disrespectful. Kormox would
be angry."
"Your people will die if they handle
these bodies, possibly even if they sit with an unprotected corpse."
"Kormox will protect them."
Seeing that she was getting nowhere Christine
turned and walked back to the guards.
The priest hurried to catch up, then grabbed
her shoulder stopping her progress. "You must let me in. My people need
me."
"Yes but they need you alive."
He puffed his chest out, seemed to pull
himself up to nearly her height. "I am the living representation of
Kormox. Nothing mortal can touch me."
Christine felt her patience wear thin.
"Think of this virus as immortal then." She pushed past him and
walked toward her office. The guards closed ranks behind her. She tried to
ignore the sound of argument coming the barrier. Finally she turned around. "What
now?" she yelled down to the guards.
"Sir, he's threatening to make this a
diplomatic incident."
"Then get the damn diplomats down
here." At his look of confusion she pointed up. "Call the
Captain."
"Of course, Sir. Sorry."
**********************
She was in her office going over the native
animal list that Kavall had sent down when Spock entered. She didn't look up as
she asked, "Got him all calmed down, did you?"
"For the moment." He sat down in
one of the spare chairs, managing to look calm even within the ventilator.
"I couldn't just let him in." She
looked to find his eyes only slightly disapproving. "He wanted into the
containment area."
"I know."
Feeling like a child caught out by her
parents and found wanting, Christine scowled at him. "What was I supposed
to do, Spock? He wouldn't have been satisfied with anything less than full
access."
"I know that too."
"Then quit looking at me with that
disappointed expression."
"Very well. You asked him about the
burial rites?"
"He was not inclined to listen to me.
Spock, all our work will mean nothing if they don't observe containment after
death."
"I understand. Commander Troi will be
working on the issue."
"Good." There was a thick silence
for a moment. "I'm sorry, Spock. I should have done better."
"Probably. But your role here is to be
in charge of the medical. Let's leave it to diplomatic to see if we can
convince the Priest to work with us." He stood up and moved around to her
side of the desk, lifted the animal list. "Are you any closer to finding
the vector?"
She shook her head in disgust. "No.
We've trapped and tested fifty species of insects and all of the rodents as
well as the companion and livestock animals. Nothing. No carriers and not one
of the animals we've found has been exposed either. We're moving to birds
next."
"It has to have a source does it
not?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes, but so far we
aren't even close to knowing what it is. "
He put the list back down on her desk.
"Well I will leave you to your search. Do remember to rest, Christine. You
will do no one any good if you overtire yourself"
**************
Christine's days fell into an established
pattern. For the most part she stayed out of the containment area unless they
asked for her, both Moorehouse and Carpenter preferred to have her working as
liaison between them and the community, the lab, and those trying to track down
the source of the virus. To that end, she helped Farrell with the surveys and
had been happy to report to Spock that they had run up against the eastern edge
of the outbreak. One side was now drawn in on their contagion map, once they
had the other three they could set diplomatic against those settlements that
weren't in the hot areas.
She checked the latest reports. So far 15
people dead. Christine had worked hard on the people taking the bodies,
explaining why they should leave their relative in the wrapping the Starfleet
doctors had provided. Some of the family members seemed to accept what they
were told and Christine had noticed that these people were not showing up in
the groups of newly infected cases. But many were, in fact so far this week ten
were traceable to having handled the dead. If they could just stop this
practice they would stand a better chance of stopping the virus, which Redmoon
had dubbed Canara Seltax Virus or CSV. He had isolated it soon after the
containment area had been set up. It was a filovirus similar to but not a match
to Ebola. It did not respond to antivirals so they had discontinued that therapy
but immune serum did seem to have an effect. The survival rate for new cases
was up to 75 percent, thanks in good part to Moorehouse's aggressive therapies
and the fact that the disease was responding to the survivor's blood. But at
the beginning they had lost nearly 85 percent of all the advanced cases.
Christine had spent much more time in GZ during that time helping with the
support of the worst cases. She had been horrified by the carnage that the
virus wrought on the bodies of the patients but she had continued to go in to
help until the first cases had burned themselves out.
They had suspected early on, and Redmoon had
confirmed that aerosol transmission was not a factor. That meant that those
outside of the containment area could work without the uncomfortable
respirators. And even many of the staff within GZ had moved back into the more
comfortable hazard uniforms and ventilators while others, less trusting, kept
wearing the suits. So far no one in the medical staff had contracted the
disease. If anyone was inclined to get sloppy, Moorehouse and Carpenter were
quick to reprimand them. They were determined that people pay attention to what
they were doing and intended to have no casualties on their watch.
Farrell and Christine were no closer to
finding the source of the virus. They had interviewed so many people that the
stories had all merged in Christine's mind. She knew that they were missing
something and looked back over her records to the first recorded cases. They
had started their interviews with the family and friends of these people but
Christine suddenly had the idea to try again. One woman in particular had
struck her as knowing more than she was saying. Christine resolved to talk to
her the next day. For now, it was time to return to the ship. She walked slowly
to the transporter area, using the decon field before calling up to the ship
for transport.
Once back in the ship she grabbed some food
at the nearest mess hall and carried it back to her office to eat. She knew
that she should be resting but wanted to catch up on the official messages. She
ate as she read and when her comm unit chimed she ignored it. It rang again.
Damn it all, she thought as she hurriedly swallowed her last mouthful of food.
She voiced her irritation in her reply, "Chapel here."
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Sir."
The Beta shift communications officer sounded extremely nervous.
She instantly felt bad. Not his fault, she
shouldn't take it out on him. "What it is, Lieutenant?"
"Sir, I've just been notified by a
Starfleet Command shuttle that they will be rendezvousing with us in a few
minutes to drop off an incoming crewmember."
"What?" Christine tried to remember
if the Carter was missing any crewmembers. Her exhaustion made it hard work.
"A new crewmember? For what section?"
"Diplomatic, Sir."
Christine sighed. She was so far behind on
the messages between the ship and headquarters. She supposed that a whole new
crew could have been arranged during her time on the planet. "Very well.
"
"Sir, do you want to meet her? Or do you
want me to notify the Captain."
"I'll go now. Please notify Captain
Spock as well."
"Yes, Sir." The channel went dead.
Goddess give me strength, she thought
tiredly. I really don't have the energy for this. She shut off her padd and
entered the turbolift for the short ride to the transporter room. She nodded to
the ensign on duty then turned to the pad.
"They're ready for transport."
"Energize."
"Aye, Sir."
The beam appeared and as she watched the
figure of a woman appeared. For one moment before the image solidified into a
person she thought she saw the figure waver and distort. She blinked several
times then looked again. An old woman stood on the pad. I must be more tired
than even I realized, Christine thought uncertainly.
The woman looked at her, her eyes boring into
Christine as if reading her very soul. Her expression was like stone, then, as
if liking whatever she was seeing in her examination, she broke into a smile.
The gesture spread the wrinkles around her face, her eyes nearly disappearing
into the laugh-lines that radiated up her cheeks. Christine found herself
smiling back.
The woman's voice was strong and deep and her
walk firm as she moved off the pad. "Ambassador-at-large Ts'its'tsi'nako
reporting for duty, Commander."
"Welcome aboard, Ambassador
Ts'i..." Christine stumbled over the name. The woman laughed and the sound
seemed to ring up and down Christine's spine.
"Just call me Nako." She turned as
the door opened and Spock walked into the room. "Ah, *Captain* Spock. How
you have grown."
Spock inclined his head, "Ambassador
Nako. Welcome aboard."
"You used to call me *Grandmother* Nako,
Spock." Her smile was warm.
"I also used to be three years
old." Spock's tone sounded almost teasing. Christine could see him visibly
relaxing in Nako's presence.
Who is this woman, she wondered.
"Allow us to show you to your
quarters," Spock said as he gestured for her to precede him. He turned to
Christine, speaking softly, "I have given her the quarters that were to
have been Colonel Kerr's."
"Logical."
They had to hurry to catch up with the
ambassador. She may look old, Christine thought, but she certainly doesn't act,
or sound it. She watched the woman's jacket billow out behind her. It was intricately
woven from beautifully dyed fabric. Her pants were also woven although of a
different pattern. She made them herself, Christine suddenly felt certain,
although how she knew she couldn't say.
"Nako," Spock asked when they were
again by her side. "I was surprised that you would ask for service on the
Carter. You could lead a mission of your own if you chose. You have been
offered the role of Head Ambassador for the Federation multiple times but have
always turned it down. Now you are here, on a Starfleet vessel, in a minor
role? I am surprised."
"I have my reasons, Spock." She
turned to Christine, dismissing him entirely. "You are exhausted beyond
measure."
Surprised, Christine looked into her eyes and
saw only compassion. "Yes," she said simply.
"I wish I could tell you it would be
over soon."
"I know it won't." Christine tried
to smile but knew that the end result was more of a grimace. "We can't
stop this if they won't give up their funeral rituals. We can do all the
containment in the world when the patients are alive. What good does it do if
the body is put right back among the populace once it is dead?"
"The people won't listen?"
Christine snorted disdainfully. "The
Priest won't listen."
Spock hastened to explain. "He has power
nearly on a level with the Minister. We are here over his deepest objections.
And I'm afraid that Commander Chapel has not had the best dealings with
him."
Christine laughed in spite of the
seriousness. "You're such a master of understatement, Spock."
Nako seemed to watch them with interest and
Christine suddenly felt self-conscious. She was glad when the lift deposited
them on deck 2.
"Your quarters are along this way,"
she said as they walked down a branch of the hallway. She heard a door open and
Redmoon stepped out of his quarters. Christine called out to him. "Dr.
Redmoon, you have a neighbor at last."
He walked down politely to say hello. His
expression as he gazed at the Ambassador turned thoughtful.
"What is it, Grandson?" Nako's face
was serene as she looked at him.
He seemed to shake himself. "You looked
familiar for a moment, Ambassador."
She laughed. "I have that kind of face,
Redmoon." The way she said his name seemed to make two words of the
syllables. "Well, this old woman is tired from her journey. If you will
excuse me?" Once the others had said goodnight she let the door close
behind her.
"And I'm keeping someone waiting. If
you'll excuse me?" Redmoon hurried down the hall.
Somewhat uncomfortable, Christine turned to
Spock. Before she could say anything he indicated the hallway with a small nod
of his head.
"Shall I walk you home, Christine?"
She smiled. "That would be nice,
Spock."
As they rounded the corner she thought again
of Nako. "So you didn't request Nako?"
"No. I know her from long ago. She
worked with my father on an extremely sensitive diplomatic matter. She often
visited us when I was young."
Christine smiled at the thought of a
three-year old Spock. "Why is she here?"
They had reached her door. He raised an
eyebrow and shook his head slightly. "I imagine she will tell us that when
she is ready. In the meantime we should be glad to have her. My father once
told me that Nako was the most astute negotiator he had ever witnessed. He said
it was as if she could enter a person's katra and read the truth that lay
within."
"Then we are lucky she is here."
Christine turned to her door. "Good night."
"Sleep well, Christine."
The familiar words touched her more than she
wanted. "You too, Spock."
*******************************
"Am I going to die?"
Christine felt her heart wrench as the girl
looked at her trustingly.
"We're going to do everything we can for
you, sweetie."
The girl's face fell. "I'm going to die
aren't I?"
"Not if I can help it," she said as
she took a look at the adolescent's readings. Fever too high, blood already
seeping in too many places.
"My mother died." The girl shifted
tried to get comfortable, grimaced as every movement brought a stab of pain.
"I got it from her didn't I?"
"I don't know, honey."
Christine had come into GZ to help out but
had really not been needed. She had noticed the young girl lying in the corner
of the last ward. She had seemed so alone as she bore her suffering. Christine
has been sitting with her for the last several hours.
"That's what I don't understand. My
Father kept me away from her. I never saw her when she was sick. Not till the
funeral. When we took care of her."
Christine fought the rage that threatened.
One more unnecessary death. How many more would there be?
She was about to answer but the girl had
drifted off again. The lapses into catatonia were becoming more frequent. Her
brain was being affected. In a way it was a blessing. Or she assumed that the
pain disappeared along with the girl's personality. It was too awful to think
otherwise.
She rose and walked over to watch Carpenter
move around the patients that had been brought in with the child. All of them
involved in the funeral. Damn this world. Damn the unreasoning stubbornness of
the Priest and his religion.
She moved back to the girl's bed, sat in
silence broken only by the hiss of her respirator. For hours she watched over
the now expressionless child. She sat vigil as the girl's tired heart gave up,
too weakened to pump as it drowned in blood. As the girl died Christine was
there, not touching, seemingly composed but feeling her resistance, her
determination crumble in the face of this latest death.
"She went fast," Carpenter was
unhooking the life support. The other doctor took a close look at Christine.
"You did make a difference, you know. You stayed with her. I'm sure she
knew that."
"A difference? I'm not making any damn
difference here at all." Christine rose. Tears stung her eyes and finally
fell freely to pool at the bottom of her goggles. She saw the compassion on
Carpenter's face, wanted none of it. "I'm going up. I've had enough of
this planet."
She navigated carefully through the ward
toward the exit. The guard gave her a sharp look but she found the presence of
mind to stop and talk to him, knowing she had looked panicky, realizing he had
almost stopped her with his weapon. A few seconds later she was on the move
again. Through the barriers, into the showers, back into her hazard uniform.
Then out, into the fresh air, and to the transport area.
"Carter, one to beam up." Get me
the hell away from here, she silently pleaded. Please just let me forget.
************************
From her vantage point near the bar Christine
saw Kerr rush into the Special Forces Lounge. She took another long drink of
her whisky. She watched as he asked one of the marines something, saw the young
soldier point her way. Oh oh, she thought woozily. Someone's in trouble.
He made his way hurriedly through the crowd
of off-duty marines. She smiled and gestured broadly, nearly spilling her drink
in the process. "Hey sweets. Pull up a chair."
"Christine." He seemed to consider
whether he wanted to sit down.
"Randall." She fought the impulse
to giggle. "I guess somebody told on me?"
He sat. "I guess so. You want to tell me
why you're in here drowning your sorrows?"
"Nope." She took another swig then
put down the empty glass. "Barkeep!" She yelled a little too loudly.
The marine acting as bartender looked over
but turned away when Kerr shook his head.
"Hey!" Christine glared at him. She
spoke very slowly. "I...want...another...drink."
"And I want to be boyishly handsome, but
neither are likely to happen."
She rose to go get the drink herself, but his
hand covered hers. She tried to pull away but his grip was like iron. "Let
me go, Colonel," she hissed at him.
He rose slowly, moved to stand in front of
her, effectively blocking the rest of the room's view of their conversation.
"Commander," he said firmly, "There is one of two ways this is
going to play out. Either you walk out with me now or I carry you out. I
suggest you pick the first option if you wish to preserve any semblance of
dignity."
She moved closer to her. "Leave me
alone, Randall. I don't want you here. I'm doing just fine."
"Two choices, Christine. In a moment I'm
going to pick one for you."
She set her glass down with a bang.
"Fine. I'm tired of this place anyway." Without waiting to see if he
was following she pushed her way through the crowd. "Can't even relax
without some busybody meddling in my business," she muttered as she stumbled
to the turbolift.
She felt rather than heard him come up behind
her. "Touch me and die," she warned him.
"I have no intention of touching you. I
just want to get you to your room before you do something you regret."
The lift deposited them on deck 2 and he
followed her to her door.
"Sure you don't want to tuck me
in," she said sarcastically.
"Very sure." He turned to leave.
Anger surged through her. And desperation.
"Randall?" Her voice wavered.
He looked back. "Good night
Christine."
"Come in for a while," she cajoled.
He closed his eyes for a long moment. His
shoulders tightened as he whispered, "And do what?"
She moved toward him, stopped just short of
touching him. "Anything you want," she purred. "Wouldn't you
like that?"
His eyes opened slowly. "More than you
probably realize, Christine. But it's not going to happen tonight. How about
you ask me again when you're sober?" He turned her toward her door.
"Go to sleep."
She tried to turn, "Randall..."
He gave her shoulders a little shake.
"Don't insult us both by asking again, Christine. Now get some rest."
Suddenly, through the drunken haze she was
in, she felt shame flood her. "I'm sorry." She tried to turn but
again his hands stopped her.
"Go to bed, Christine. This never
happened."
She nodded and walked back to her door.
Staggered inside, thought she heard him curse softly as the door closed. She
leaned against the wall for a moment. What the hell just happened? What am I
doing? She found the replicator and ordered some detox. Injecting it through
her clothes she fell into her bed. Sleep followed instantly.
*******************************
"You wished to see me?" The
Priest's tone was imperious as he stepped out of the sanctuary and into the
waiting area where Christine stood.
I don't like this man, she thought bitterly
as she tried to form a friendly smile. "I wished to clear the air between
us. I was not at my best the last time we spoke."
His look did not change.
I *really* don't like this man, she corrected
as she continued, "What I mean is perhaps I didn't spend the time I should
have explaining what exactly we are doing here. And why we so desperately need
your help."
"All the children of Kormox, even
godless interlopers such as yourselves, are welcome to the assistance of the
High Priest."
Not quite what I meant, she mused. "In
the matter of the burials then..."
His expression darkened immediately.
"The matter of the burials is closed."
Must not lose my temper this time, she
thought desperately. Don't think of the child. "But we..."
He did to let her finish. "We shall not
discuss it again."
A new voice sounded in the room. "Surely
you are not afraid of a frank and open discussion."
Christine and the High Priest turned as one
to see Nako standing in the doorway.
The old woman moved confidently into the
room. "Commander Chapel, I took the liberty of inquiring as to your
whereabouts. I thought perhaps I could be of assistance."
"Old woman, what possible help could you
be?" the Priest sounded indignant.
Nako turned to him and their eyes met and
held. She was not the first to look away. "What help indeed grandson.
Perhaps you and I could speak more privately in there?" She gestured to
the room the Priest had come from.
For a long moment no one moved. Then the
Priest nodded slowly and retreated to his sanctuary, Nako close on his heels.
When Christine got up to join them the ambassador stopped her at the door.
"This is not your fight, child. Go back
to the mission." When Christine started to argue, Nako gently laid her
finger against her First Officer's lips. "No arguments."
Christine stared rebelliously at the older
woman. Who the hell was she to order her around? But the infinite patience in
Nako's eyes stopped her. "I'll go back and wait," she said softly.
"Everything will turn out as it should,
granddaughter. You'll see." Nako turned and closed the door gently in
Christine's face.
*******************
Two hours later, Christine's comm unit went
off. The guards were warning her that Nako was on her way back. Barely stopping
to save the work she had been doing, Christine hurried out of her office and
rushed to meet the diplomat. "Well?"
"He will instruct his people to allow
you and your doctors to prepare their dead. He will tell them to bury their
loved ones quickly and hold memorials for them afterwards."
"How?" Christine was delighted but
stunned.
"My dear, surely you know a good
diplomat doesn't give away her secrets." Nako's eyes sparkled as she
looked at Christine.
"Who are you?"
"Just an old woman who knows a thing or
two about people."
Christine shook her head. "I don't
believe that."
"Believe. Don't believe. That is up to
you." She took Christine by the arm, "Now I want you to tell me what
has made our Captain so sad. I have never seen Spock so full of pain."
"It wouldn't be proper to discuss him
with you," Christine protested, even as she let Nako draw her back into
her office.
"I dandled him on my knee when he was a
toddler and made him laugh. I saw what a misery the children of Vulcan made his
growing years. And I observed the rift grow ever wider between him and his
father. But I have never seen Spock so hurt. What has happened?"
"Kirk. His death." Christine
faltered.
Nako grimaced. "Of course. I should have
realized." Her eyes were serious as she turned and demanded, "Tell me
everything."
And Christine did.
*******************************
"Commander, you've been here twice
already. What more do you think I can tell you?" The Canaran woman studied
her curiously.
"I'm not sure. But please, could I come
in? Just for a minute?" Christine knew this woman held a piece of
information that she just hadn't found yet. She had believed it nearly a week
ago when she had paid her a second visit, and she believed it still.
With a long-suffering sigh the woman moved
aside to let her enter. She trailed Christine to the sitting area in the front
of the dwelling.
"You said you weren't sure how your
brother contracted the disease."
"That's right."
They had been over this ground before.
Christine tried to think of another way to approach it. "Your brother was
one of the first to get sick. He and the friend who worked on his boat. And a
bunch of naval guardsmen."
The woman looked up in surprise.
Christine continued. "We just found out
about the sailors. The Ministry was keeping their deaths quiet. Or the
priesthood was." Christine waited for the woman to comment, when she
didn't she sighed in exasperation. "This is a new twist. Can't you see
that? These deaths have a connection now. They all were seamen. So the source
of the disease is somewhere they all were."
"Maybe my brother caught the disease
from the sailors?"
"No. They came down nearly at the same
time. They were infected together or nearly together. Where would they have
met? Was there a bar at the harbor that they all congregated? Or someone's
house they might have all gone to? A mutual friend perhaps?" Or
girlfriend, Christine thought to herself. Prostitutes were deadly during an
epidemic like this.
"My brother would never have spent time
on the wharves. He hated fishing. He inherited the boat from our father but he
was trying to get out of the life. He worked all the time to earn the money to
start over somewhere far from the sea."
"But he must have had places he liked to
go when he was in harbor."
"Yes, his apartment to sleep. That's
what I'm trying to tell you. He was exhausted most nights. He didn't have the
time to do more than fall into bed to get up the next day and start over. His
drive to get out of this life wouldn't let him goof off. All he wanted to do
was get rid of that damn boat."
This was going nowhere. Again. Christine
rose. "I'm sorry if I've upset you." She walked to the door, the
other woman not even making the pretense of seeing her out. Then a thought
struck her as she reached the entrance. She turned around. "Where is it?"
"What?"
"The boat."
The woman's expression became guarded.
"I don't know."
"But it's yours now, isn't it?"
By the expression on the other woman it was
clear she was unsure how to answer the questions. Christine pressed her
advantage. "Yours to sell or use. Where is it?"
"I don't know." Her voice was now
desperate.
"You're lying." Christine knelt in
front of the woman. "Whatever made your brother sick, might be on that
boat. He might have brought it back with him." No effect. She rose,
towered over the other woman. Her voice was cold. "Tell me what you
know," she ordered. "Damn it! I'm not leaving until you tell me what
you are hiding!"
Something seemed to go out of the Canaran.
Her shoulders slumped. "It is forbidden."
"What is?"
"To speak of the boat."
"Why?"
"It was on the holy island. Kampara. It
is taboo to be there, taboo to even approach it."
"Kampara?" Christine had never
heard anyone mention it.
"It is forbidden to even speak the
island's name."
"Why?"
"It is the home of Kormox. To visit it
is death."
Perhaps literally, Christine thought.
"And your brother's boat was there?"
"Yes. He was fishing. Heard a distress
call. From the guardsmen. Their boat had broken down. Drifted to the island. He
and his partner had gone to help. They had set foot on the island. I think they
explored it but he would not admit to that. He told me this when he got back,
before he got sick. Swore me to secrecy, but he didn't have to. To speak of it
would have been to suicide. In the past there have been those who thought there
was treasure on the island. They went there. Those that weren't struck down by
Kormox were killed by the priests. It is forbidden."
"Those that weren't struck down? There
have been other outbreaks of this before?"
"In the far past. It is whispered of
sometimes."
"Someone has known all along."
Anger warred with relief at having a possible suspect in their search for the
source of the virus.
"Please, don't tell them I told
you." The woman was truly terrified.
"I won't. The guardsmen are the angle
I'll use. Your brother's name, if it comes up, will do so as part of that
discussion." She rose to leave, then realized that her original question
had not been answered. "So where *is* the boat?"
"In impound. In the harbor. I
think."
And possibly virally hot as hell, Christine
thought angrily. "Thank you. I'll protect your information. I
promise."
"It's been so hard not to say anything.
He was my brother. I loved him. I want to know what happened to him."
"So do I." Christine gave her a
grim look. "So do I."
*********************
In her office on the ship, Christine laid out
everything she knew on a padd, detailing the dependencies and possible
correlations that she had learned from the sister of the sailor, as well as
from her own subsequent investigation. She studied the data again. One thing
was sure. She had to get on that boat. Rising she made her way to the bridge.
The senior crew was on duty. Their smiles of
welcome when she had entered the bridge were warm. Even Sabuti seemed genuinely
glad to have her back, even if only on a temporary basis.
"Saldusta, please patch me through to
the Ministry."
The comms officer worked for a moment, then
she announced. "The Second Minister is ready for you."
"On screen." Christine smiled at
the Canaran woman. "Minister. I have good news. I believe we have found a
possible lead on the virus. But I am having difficulty getting some answers. I
was hoping you could help."
"If I can be of assistance, then please
ask."
"We believe the guardsmen that were
among the first victims are key. I have been trying to trace their movements
during their last weeks. Unfortunately everyone I have spoken to has refused to
help."
The Minister's expression became somewhat
less open. "It is a matter of some delicacy."
"So I have come to understand,"
Christine replied wryly. "Minister, we are here at your request. If we
don't find the source of this virus, it will surely recur. Possibly with even
more dire repercussions for your population."
"I will of course see what I can find
out for you Commander. And we do appreciate all your help."
Stonewalled again, Christine thought
bitterly. Time to play the wild card. "Minister? Before you go I have one
more question. During my investigation, I've spent some time in the harbor area.
I couldn't help but notice that you've dedicated a rather large area of the
dock as well as a substantial amount of guardsmen to one small boat. Can you
tell me about that?"
The Minister's face went cold. "I don't
believe so, Commander. Ministry out." The screen went dead.
*****************
Christine was on her way to her quarters when
she heard someone behind her call out, "Commander Chapel?" She turned
to see Saldusta hurrying to catch up.
When she reached her, Saldusta motioned her
to keep walking. "I have something I wanted to talk to you about,
Commander. In private."
Christine felt her whole body tense. She was
so exhausted. Couldn't this wait? "I appreciate your urgency, Lieutenant.
But perhaps we could do this another time."
"This isn't a personal matter,
Sir."
They stopped in front of Christine's door.
She sighed. "Ok then. Come in."
Saldusta waited till the doors closed then
rushed to explain. "Do you think that the boat you mentioned to the
Minister has something to do with the outbreak?"
Christine looked at the younger woman in
tired confusion. "Possibly. I didn't realize you were interested in
epidemiology?"
"I'm not. I'm interested in helping
you."
Christine sat down at her table. She tried to
make sense of Saldusta's words. "Help me how?"
"With the boat. If I read between the
lines correctly, you want access to it. But your problem is that for now you
can't get to it." She stopped. Looked down then back up to meet
Christine's gaze with eyes that shone with confident purpose. "I can. Nobody
would ever know."
For a few seconds there was no sound in the
room except for the gentle hiss of Saldusta's humidity device. Then Christine
realized what the woman was offering.
"No. Absolutely not."
"But why? You need to get out there. I
can do it. I can get whatever information you need."
"It's too dangerous. Far too
dangerous." She could tell the communications officer didn't agree with
her. "Saldusta. I want your word that you won't try this. I don't want you
to. Give me your word."
"But..."
"Your word. I'm too tired to play games.
Give me your word or so help me I'll put you in the brig until we leave
orbit."
Saldusta looked startled. "You can't do
that."
"I know a few people in Security. Now
give me your word or I'll call one of them."
The woman looked completely defeated as she
mumbled, "You have my word."
Christine reached out, put her hand on
Saldusta's shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's not that I don't
appreciate it, Saldusta. I do. I can't tell you how much it means that you are
willing to try. But it's too dangerous. Do you understand?"
"I guess." Her face tightened as
she turned to leave.
"Saldusta?" She waited till the
other woman turned back. "If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have
reacted so strongly."
The other woman stared back at her, the look
of betrayal slowly disappearing. She finally gave a small smile and nodded her
head. "Good night, Sir."
"Good night, Lieutenant. Thank
you."
As the door closed behind Saldusta, Christine
thought again of that boat, bobbing innocently in the impound area. I will get
on you. If it's the last thing I do, I will get on you.
*******************************
"Chris?" Farrell's voice sounded
just outside Christine's office.
"Come on in, Ren." She looked up to
see her friend poke her head in the door. "What's up? Is something
wrong?"
"Nope. But I need you to come out to the
staging area." When she didn't move, Farrell scowled. "Now,
Commander. Please?"
Sighing Christine put down her work and
followed the other woman to the transport area. A group of health workers were
already assembled. Christine could see Moorehouse and Carpenter in the small
crowd and even Redmoon had beamed down. "What's going on?" she asked
as they neared the group.
"A celebration. A small one
anyway," Ritsuko emerged from behind the others. "I thought you could
all do with a little party. I provided the food." She gestured to the
spread laid out behind her. "Now it's up to you to provide the
reasons."
Moorehouse spoke up quickly, "How about
the fact that we've had no new cases in 54 hours?"
Restrained clapping broke out.
Christine felt herself getting into the
spirit of the occasion. "How about Nako's arrival? We never would have got
through to the Priest without her. But I'm damned if I know how she did
it."
Carpenter laughed, "Who cares *how* just
*that* she did it!"
"Hear hear," Redmoon agreed.
Farrell laughed. "I've got one more. We
just finished indexing every species native to this area and found no vectors.
Not perhaps the results that we wanted, but a milestone nonetheless."
Ritsuko gave her a shy but familiar smile.
"See I knew there would be a reason for me to bring this down." She
pushed Moorehouse and Carpenter to the table. "I know you two have to get
back to GZ, so you go first."
The food was worthy of a diplomatic feast and
everyone set to eating with gusto. Christine laid claim to the sushi rolls and
had to be forcibly removed by a grinning Farrell who warned the catering head,
"Run Umachi, before she asks you to marry her for your cooking."
Christine felt some of her tension melt as
she enjoyed the chance to eat and talk with her colleagues. Claiming that duty
called, Ritsuko beamed back up to the ship and the nurses and medics drifted
back to work leaving the senior medical staff in an impromptu meeting. Christine
quickly briefed them on her suspicions of the boat and the island.
Farrell frowned as she listened. "But
how are we going to get on the thing? It doesn't sound like you made any
headway getting them to cooperate."
Christine smiled confidently, "*I* didn't.
But I bet I know who can."
*********************
"Spock, I'm glad you came." She met
him at the entrance to the medical camp. "I want to show you something.
Come on." She strode off then realized he was not following. She turned
back. "Well come on."
He raised an eyebrow as he caught up with
her. "You seem quite exited by something. I take it you have made some
kind of breakthrough?"
She nodded fiercely, "I think so. It's
this way." She maneuvered through some broken fence.
"Christine, I do not think we are
supposed to be in here."
"Just come on, Spock." Her tone was
impatient as she walked quickly over the weeds and dumped machinery that
littered the area. Finally they came to the shoreline. The harbor lay just
ahead; many ships tied to the docks, the men and women that worked them moving
purposefully. At the end of the area a containment fence decorated with the
colors she had come to associate with the priesthood of Kormox surrounded one
dock. A dock that stood unutilized except for one small vessel. There were a
larger number of guards guarding it than she remembered from the last time she
had snuck in to look at it. Apparently her call to the Ministry had served only
to increase security.
"Whatever it is we're looking for is on
that boat," she said pointing to the impound area.
Spock studied the scene. "It does appear
to be under significantly more security than it's appearance would
warrant." He turned back to her. "We received a call this morning
from the Ministry, confirming that they could not help you. I take it you spoke
with them?"
"Yes. They know something, Spock. I can
feel it in my bones."
"Not precisely scientific, Christine.
And I'm afraid, irrelevant. According to the Ministry, the Priest has declared
the boat taboo. There is no chance that you will get on board."
Christine explained to him about the island,
what she had learned from the sister of the sailor. "I want to get to the
island. But we have to start with the boat. I think if you were to talk to the
Minister, try to reason with him? Maybe he could make an exception. Maybe he
would go around the priest. It must happen occasionally."
"We would be deliberately disregarding
this culture's religion and traditions."
"For the sake of its survival,
yes."
"We have already had an impact on their
culture. The burial rites, the isolation areas. I am afraid we have reached the
end of their cooperation. I am a diplomat as well as a Captain. You are asking
me to ignore the things this world holds most valuable." He turned to walk
away.
Anger erupted inside her. Hours and days of
non-stop work and worry came to a head. She grabbed him. Physically yanked him
back to her. His surprise was palpable. "No, you cold hearted bastard!
That's not what I'm asking." She pointed out to the harbor again.
"I'm asking you to get me that boat! One stinkin' boat. One! And we can
save lives. For one...damn...boat." She let go of his arm and stormed off,
no longer caring if he followed her or not.
**************************************
"They are prepared to release the
boat."
Christine looked up, unprepared for Spock's
presence at the door of her makeshift office or his words. "What?
How?" She circled round her desk and walked over to him.
He met her in the middle of the room,
eyebrows rising in self-deprecating humor. "It seems you were right about
the Minister. He cares more for his people than for religious
superstition."
"So the boat is mine?"
He nodded. "Just tell them where and
when you want it and it is yours."
She didn't think, she just reacted, launching
herself into his arms and hugging him furiously. "Thank you! Thank
you!" Just as she realized what she had done she felt his arms tighten
around her.
His voice was low in her ear, and she thought
his lips brushed her hair as he said, "You're welcome, Christine. I am
only sorry that you had to shame me into getting it for you in the first
place."
They stood that for a few minutes, warm arms
holding tightly before he pulled away. "So where and when *do* you want it?"
"Tomorrow afternoon, in the open water.
We'll beam out to it. We'll need it dragged out. Oh and we'll also need a
couple of ships to stand guard. I can't imagine that the priesthood is going to
sit by silently while we desecrate their boat."
"I'll make the arrangements."
She followed him out the door, intent on
telling Moorehouse, Carpenter, and Farrell the good news. As she walked she
placed a call to the ship to let Redmoon in on the wonderful surprise.
*******************************
"Energize."
Moorehouse, Chapel, and Redmoon all in
biosuits appeared on the deck of the small sailing vessel. They were floating
out in the open sea, flanked by three Ministry ships, one of which was busy
keeping out a smaller boat flying the Priesthood colors.
"Didn't take them long to stage a
protest," Redmoon noted wryly.
"I was afraid of this." Christine
looked toward the horizon. It was empty. Where were the other ships? Surely the
Priest wouldn't just send one? It was barely a token protest.
Moorehouse's voice shook her out of her
reverie. "Let's get busy." She was already scanning the boat.
"Trace elements all over the place here."
"I'm getting it too." Redmoon
adjusted his equipment, narrowing the scan. "Someone or something was
wounded when it was brought aboard here" He pointed to some stains on the
boards. "This blood is old now. I don't know how much data we'll get. If
we could just find a convenient rodent or bug."
Christine sighed in frustration. "The
ship was in harbor long enough for any rodents to leave before now." She
scanned the far end of the ship. "I'm coming up zero on flying insects.
But there is a spider-like thing in here just under this board." She
pointed to a storage area.
Redmoon pulled out one of his traps and
scraped the creature inside. "Anything else?"
Christine shook her head. "Not on my
tricorder."
"Mine either." Moorehouse
concurred.
Christine scanned the stains. "This
blood matches the Canarans we've been treating. One of the guardsmen might have
been hurt, maybe scratched himself or was bitten by something on the island.
Definitely traces of the virus here. But they wouldn't have been showing
symptoms, much too early."
"There's nothing to find here."
Moorehouse sounded dejected.
"Commander Chapel?" One of the
guardsmen was hailing her. "Is it safe to approach?"
"Yes." She saw the guardsman say
something to the men on the Priesthood boat. Then he threw back the line he had
forced them to relinquish and motioned the boat to move ahead. It headed toward
them.
"What the hell?" Redmoon turned to
her in confusion.
As the small vessel neared, Christine was
surprised to see the High Priest standing next to the pilot.
"You didn't find anything did you?"
For once the Priest didn't sound smug.
"Trace elements only. The virus was
brought onto this boat from somewhere. Somehow, I think you know where that
might be, your holiness."
The man met her eyes squarely. "You
think me a man lost to reason, don't you Commander?" He continued before
she could answer. "I am not. I have prayed and fasted and begged Kormox
for an answer to this terrible crisis. I am not immune to the horror that has
overtaken us." He seemed thoughtful for a moment before he pointed off to
the north. "We need to go there, to Kampara."
"We?" Christine asked in shock.
"We." He said firmly. "I have
gone through our records. This has happened before. It is always hushed up. For
the good of the people. Because it was deemed Kormox's will. At first I thought
that is what I should do too. I would rise to the challenge that Kormox had set
for me. Keep the sacred things from being profaned. But I cannot believe that
our God wants us to die for no reason. That he would abandon us. And he did
not. He sent us you. It is a lesson in humility that beings as vexing as you
and your people could be the one that will show us a new way."
Christine resisted the urge to give him a
sarcastic reply. "What do *we* do?"
"We recreate the path the guardsmen
took. I have their statements with us. They are somewhat incoherent but I
believe we can retrace their steps. We can use this vessel to get there."
"I'll need to contact my ship, get some
more biosuits sent down."
"Fine." He held out his hand,"
The sea is calm, you should transfer over now."
Silently praying to every goddess she could
think of that this wasn't a trick, Christine grabbed his hand and let him pull
her to his boat. As Moorehouse and Redmoon followed her, she called the Carter
and asked for Kavall. "You'll need to scan the High Priest and his men. I
need biosuits set for their measurements sent down immediately."
"Aye, Sir."
As the boat set out for the island, one of
the Guardsmen's ships followed them. The other two veered away to return to
harbor.
"Commander?" Kavall's voice sounded
loud in Christine's helmet.
"Go ahead."
"Suits are ready, beaming down
now."
The bulky equipment materialized and
Moorehouse and Redmoon began assisting the priests in putting it on. Christine
looked back to the little sailing boat still bobbing gently in the sea. The
sister of the owner could not use it now, not when it was still considered
taboo. "Lieutenant, are you ready to destroy the ship?"
"Yes, Sir. Awaiting your command."
"Keep the beam narrow...and fire."
From the heavens a bolt of light streamed
down and obliterated the small craft. The priests, to give them credit, looked
on in awe but little fear.
"No readings remaining, Sir."
"None here either, good work Kavall.
Stay on this channel. If you lose contact with us, beam us directly to GZ, do
you understand?"
"Yes, Sir. Good luck."
We're going to need it, she thought, as the
island came into sight on the horizon.
*******************************
They had circled the island three times now.
Redmoon had taken every reading he could think of but the water and the sea
creatures within were still coming up clean. He straightened up and shook his
head. "Whatever it is, it's on the island. The water is normal, the
animals are virus-free."
They had not really thought it would be in
the water. But they had to be certain. Christine turned to look at the island.
The priest joined her. She sought his eyes within the helmet. "We have no
choice, your holiness. We have to go there."
He looked out at the island, turned back to
her. "I know. It is the only way." As Christine started to move away
he surprised her continuing, "Commander? I do have a name."
She smiled, "I never doubted it."
She was shocked to see an answering grin.
"Since *your holiness* is so cumbersome
why don't you just call me Rishud."
"Ok. I have a name too, if you want to
use that instead." He seemed to consider the prospect for longer than
necessary. Then she realized he was teasing her. Imagine that, she thought.
"It's Christine."
"Christine." He seemed to be trying
it out. "Christine, Christine, Christine." He nodded, apparently
satisfied. "We met on difficult terms. I am not usually considered an
unlikable man."
"If you say so," she offered
glibly.
He looked at her askance, then relaxed.
"Now it is you who teases me."
"Commander? Your holiness? We are at the
site that the guardsmen used to land on the island. Shall we take down the
small boat?"
Christine spoke first. "No. We beam
over. These suits are strong, but I don't want to risk their integrity any more
than we have to." She looked at the team. "We've gotten spoiled with
the rounded corners of GZ. This is the real world. There are things that can
slice and tear. Be very, very careful once we are on the island.
Understood?" She waited for each member of the team to nod before calling
the Carter and requesting transport.
They reappeared just above the surf line. It
was clear from the remnants of the tracks in the dry sand that the route they
were tracking had gone into the trees. The Priest was shocked. "They
should not have gone into the woods. They knew better. It was an affront to
Kormox to explore here."
Moorehouse was taking readings on the sand.
"Same as the boat. Trace elements here but nothing hot. Whatever we're
looking for is in there." She pointed to the woods.
Christine turned back to the Priest. "We
have to go in there. If we are going to find the truth." He looked about
to protest but she continued quickly. "I know it is an insult to your god
to go in without his permission. But perhaps if you were to explain to him. To
offer him the respect he needs. Perhaps then we will go with his blessing not
his wrath following us?"
"Do you mock me?"
Christine shook her head, "I'm serious.
This is a holy place. Only the god can make us welcome. You are the emissary of
the god. Only you can talk to him."
"I will try." The priest's eyes
closed and the others drifted away from him back toward the water's edge.
Christine looked out at the boat, where the
others from the priesthood still waited. They had not appeared surprised or
upset that Rishud was cooperating with the offworlders. She was hopeful that
the High Priest would give them the god's approval.
"We can go now. I have told Kormox all
that I can. I have told him that you are in charge."
"Thank you." She approached the
jungle's edge. "We need to take it slow. Follow whatever signatures from
the tricorder or visuals that we can find that might give us an idea where the
guardsmen and possibly the sailors went when they were here."
Redmoon stepped up to her. "The
signatures are very faint. This won't be easy. As for the visuals, there isn't
much to go on. Things grow fast in this environment. We'll be lucky to see
anything."
"Understood. You lead, Dr.
Redmoon." The team set off into the trees, the light immediately getting
dimmer as the forest closed up around them.
It has to be here, Christine thought grimly.
And if it is, we're going to find it.
************************
Five hours later, they were back on the sand.
Sweat was dripping down her faceplate but
Christine called for another sweep through the woods.
A hand on her arms stopped her from moving.
Moorehouse's voice was gentle as she said, "No, Commander. No more."
"But it's there. We know it's
there."
"Yes. We do." Moorehouse's eyes
shone with sympathy. "But we've made five passes already. We've been in
caves, we've tested the stream, we've dug up soil samples, we've scanned the
wildlife. And it's not here."
"It is," Christine insisted.
"We just aren't looking in the right place."
Redmoon shook his head. "We may never
find it. CSV is proving as elusive as its sisters. You know that we haven't
found the vectors for Ebola and Marburg yet either. Somehow, in some way we
don't understand, these viruses go dormant for long periods. They come alive again
when some opportunity in the form of an animal or human presents itself to
them. But somehow until that happens they survive...unknown, unthreatened,
possibly right underneath us."
"We can't just give up." Christine
looked at her doctors, then at the Priest.
"Kormox has no answers," he said
firmly. "You have done your best. There is nothing to find. It is time to
leave." He moved to her side, took her shoulders and turned her away from
the woods and toward the sea.
She allowed him to push her away from the trees.
"What then? Kampara is never spoken of from this point on, just as it was
before? Till one day, someone comes here again and the whole thing starts
over?"
"I am uncertain what Kormox will want me
to do. I don't think hiding the truth is the answer anymore. But we need to
keep people off this island. And we need to depend on more than just the fear
of taboo I think. Perhaps the Federation could help us with that? Some kind of
sensor that would tell us if anyone got too close." He looked at Christine
hopefully.
She smiled encouragingly. "I think that
we probably could do that."
"Good. Now, not to be critical, but
could we please get off this island and out of these suits. I feel as if I am
going to die in here."
"Yes, of course." She turned for
one last look at the trees before signaling the Carter to beam them back to the
boat.
They lost no time in getting out of the
biosuits. None of them smelled too fresh, but the wind that met them as the
boat made full speed back to harbor at least cooled them off.
Once they had tied up, Redmoon beamed up to
the ship with the few samples he had collected. "Don't hold your breath
for anything earth shattering. I'm sure this will be just more of the same.'
Christine knew that he was probably right.
She felt Moorehouse squeeze her arm and shot the other woman a grateful smile.
"I'm going back to GZ, you want to come
or are you going back up to the ship?"
Christine pointed up. "I'll need to
report this in. The Captain will want our estimate for how much longer we will
be needed."
Moorehouse thought for a moment.
"Probably another week. Our last cases will be strong enough to leave GZ
by then and those in the isolation area will be on the final phase."
"You have done well here, all of
you," the Priest surprised them both with his comment. "I have not
said Thank You. I have been remiss. You have saved many lives here. You have
made a great difference to our planet."
Christine felt her eyes fill up. She blinked
hastily. "Your world is beautiful and peaceful. It would have been wrong
to stand by and do nothing."
"I must go. The blessing of Kormox be
upon you." And the Priest was gone, striding purposefully down the dock as
he called to his aides.
"An interesting man," Moorehouse
said quietly.
"Yes. More open-minded than I
realized."
"I'm not sure anyone is really what we
think at first. Seems like everyone is pretty complicated once you get to know
them."
Christine laughed. "A doctor and a sage?
I'm not going to tell Starfleet about that or they'll start charging me
double."
Moorehouse smiled back and set off down the
dock. She turned back to yell, never breaking stride as she walked backwards.
"We done good, Commander! I think this calls for one hell of a party when we
all get back on the Carter."
Christine yelled back. "I'll get on that
right away."
The other woman waved in reply and turned
around.
Christine watched her for a bit then turned
around again to look at the island. Give it up, Chapel, she silently berated
herself. Just give it up.
"Carter, one to beam up."
*******************************
"My planet cannot thank you enough,
Captain Spock." The First Minister spoke earnestly. Behind him, stood the
High Priest.
"No thanks are necessary, Sir. It was
our duty and our pleasure to be of assistance."
"Pleasant journeys to you and your crew,
Captain. Canara Seltax out." The screen went blank.
"Our new orders are sending us to
Felstrar Colony, in the Boriaus sector." Spock instructed those gathered
on the bridge.
"Course plotted and laid in, Sir."
Sabuti answered.
"Mr. Kimble, take us out of orbit."
"Aye-aye, Sir." Kimble was clearly
glad to be going somewhere again.
Christine sat in silence. Unutterably
relieved to be saying goodbye to Canara Seltax and also very glad to find
herself once more on the bridge with the senior crew.
"Lt. Sabuti, you have the con."
Spock rose, turned to Christine. "I should like to speak with you in my
ready room."
"Of course." She rose and followed
him into his office. She wasn't exactly up for lecture on the diplomatic woes
of the Felstrar Colony but she wasn't about to tell Spock that.
"Sit down, please." He gestured to
one of his couches and not to the chair in front of his desk. She sat and he
chose a seat near her. "You have done well. You and your team."
"And a good portion of your team as
well. We couldn't have finished the surveys without them."
He nodded acceptance of her words. "I am
pleased with this crew."
She smiled softly, turned to look at the
stars streaming by the window. "They are a fine crew, Spock."
"I have not been a fine Captain
though."
She turned to him in surprise. "Actually
you've been an excellent Captain."
He seemed taken aback. "I shut you out."
"Well *Spock* shut *Christine* out. But
I think the Captain and the First Officer did ok together. I'm learning that
there is a difference."
"Interesting. It is a hard lesson."
"Yes. It is."
"I have struggled with the pain I felt.
With the grief." His eyes met hers. He seemed to study her intently.
"I am still struggling with it."
"I know. It will take time to
lessen."
"I find it difficult to speak of
this."
"To me, you mean." She looked away
again. "You need to find someone you *can* talk to, Spock. Maybe Nako or
Troi?"
"Nako has been to see me. I found her
counsel of value. But I miss your advice. I miss you, Christine."
"I didn't go anywhere. I'm right here,
Spock. I've been here the whole time."
"I realize that. But...it is still
fairly crowded inside me."
"No room for me at all, huh?" She
decided she wanted to escape before the conversation got out of hand. She rose
quickly. "If there is nothing more I'm going to get back to work,
Spock."
His voice rang out, stopping her before she
reached the door. "We never had that celebration dinner. Perhaps
tonight?"
She turned to him. "We can't, the
medical department is throwing the mother of all parties or have your
forgotten?"
"I was trying to."
"Well you have to put in an appearance.
And I'm one of the hostesses."
He nodded in defeat. "I will be there.
Dinner tomorrow then?"
"You're on, Spock." She found
herself grinning at him. She walked the rest of the way to the door. Before it
opened she turned back. "Spock." He looked up. "I've missed you
too."
Their eyes met and held in a moment of
perfect understanding. Then she turned and walked back to her own office to
finish up the medical reports.
****************************
The party was in full swing and Christine was
having a wonderful time. Music, loud conversation, people filling 3-Forward and
spilling into the corridor. It was incredibly chaotic and she felt herself
relaxing for the first time in what was only weeks but seemed like much longer.
She glanced over at Spock talking to Redmoon and Moorehouse. She could tell by
his body language that he was about to bolt. Such opposites we are, she laughed
to herself.
"Hey stranger." She turned and saw
Kerr standing behind her, sipping from a glass and holding another that he
promptly handed to her. "Peace offering?"
"Were we fighting?"
He grinned and she couldn't help smiling in
return. "I don't know. You haven't talked to me since *that night* and I
thought I better track you down."
"I haven't said how sorry I am about
that."
"It's forgotten. I said that then and I
meant it. You just weren't supposed to forget me along with it." Again the
grin that she found so irresistible.
"I haven't. I've been a little
busy."
"I know. Saving a planet, charming a
priest, solving the mystery."
Christine laughed out loud. "These
people," she gestured to the medical staff, "saved the planet. That
woman," she pointed to where Nako was standing with Sovar and Penhallon,
"charmed the priest, and nobody solved the mystery."
"So what *did* you do?" he teased.
"I'm not sure."
"Well when you think of something let me
know, because I want to take you out for a celebratory dinner. In fact, how
about tomorrow?"
Suddenly she felt very self-conscious.
"I have plans tomorrow." She looked up at his trusting gaze.
"With Spock."
His expression didn't change. "So you
guys are finally making up. That's good. I know that will be a load off your
mind." He took another sip from his glass. "So the day after
then."
"The day after?"
He grinned. "For dinner?"
"But I'm having dinner with Spock."
"Yeah, I heard you the first time."
He leaned in, pitched his voice so only she could hear it. "You don't
think I'd give up that easy do you? One dinner and you want to count old
Randall out of the running? I don't think so, Christine." He leaned back
and again lifted the glass to his lips. His eyes dared her to contradict him.
For once, Christine found herself at a loss.
"I'm not sure..."
He took pity on her. "It's going to be a
long voyage, Christine. Who knows how this will all turn out? Now are you going
to have dinner with me or not?"
Laughing helplessly, Christine held up her
hands. "Ok. I will."
"Great." He leaned in again.
"Relax Christine. You don't have to choose right away. You can have us
both...for awhile anyway." And with that he walked away to join Kavall and
Saldusta at the nearest food tray.
Christine felt an arm on her shoulder.
Farrell, obviously a little tipsy, pulled her down so she could whisper in her
ear. "Our first mission is over, Chris. And we did good, don't you
think?"
"We did, Ren. We really did."
Christine looked up to find Spock's eyes upon her briefly before he turned to
leave. She smiled her goodbye and laughed when his eyebrow rose in response. As
she turned to Farrell she caught Kerr's attention. He lifted his glass to her.
"It's going to be an interesting
voyage." Farrell said, hugging her.
Christine laughed and hugged her back.
"Very interesting indeed."
FIN