by Smith, T. L.
Taylor stared at the tube. “I’m not sure I can justify using an untested treatment.”
“Your choice, but you’re going to run out of supplies and these people are going to be in excruciating agony.” Jayda swallowed through the tightness gripping her throat. “This treatment will make the pain tolerable, leaving heavier sedation meds for those who need them.”
She nodded. “Any special instructions?”
“Sterile gloves, administer liberally. Every six hours clean the wounds with a sterile wash and reapply.” Jayda turned back to the box. “The nanotech dies off in six hours, or when they no longer identify damaged cells.” There was silence behind her. “It works!”
“I believe you, but....”
“Use it or don’t.” Jayda walked around Taylor. “By morning you’ll have enough bronchials to get everyone through this crisis.”
She heard stammering behind her, but Jayda had reached her limit and didn’t wait to hear what the young doctor had to say. She dragged herself past the galley, going straight to her quarters.
Alone again, she peeled off her clothes and collapsed on her bunk. “Computer, drop the temp five degrees and refilter my air with a fifteen-percent solution of Senaprox.”
A blast of cold air washed over her. After a few breaths she could feel the Senaprox soaking into her body and lungs. Senaprox, her magical compound. She inhaled it deeper. There was something to be said for working on special projects.
While still in military research she’d consulted for the Millixium Mining Company on a metal that possessed a higher and better conductivity ratio than anything. After she was injured, Millixium approached her with another problem.
Touching the finished metal strands created a numbing effect that lasted for hours. Closer inspection identified an oily compound leaching from the metal. Over time the film increased the resistivity of the metal, reducing its effectiveness.
Jayda identified an inert compound in the raw ore, altered in the smelting process, compounded by the refining steps. Microscopic beads of the oil slithered between the metal strands, combining until they had no place to go, but to the surface.
Changing the refinement process to burn off this compound made the ore unusable. The solution was inanely simple, but sparked an idea for Jayda. Soaking the spools of wire in ethanol pulled the oil out of the metal, making it stable for further processing.
Jayda almost felt guilty wrangling Millixium into giving her an exclusive contract for the waste byproduct. For years she received barrels of the evaporated oil-infused ethanol gel, further reducing it down to its purest uncontaminated form.
After a string of failures, she turned an otherwise worthless waste product into Senaprox, a treatment for serious injuries. She developed multiple delivery methods, including the oxygen pumped into her room. It soothed her throat and lungs.
Today she needed the treatment. After a few more minutes of inhaling the mist, she found the energy to get up and apply a layer of the topical ointment.
She slathered nano-cream onto her hip and thigh, working up her side. As she twisted around to reach her back, the door to her room opened.
“OH! Sorry.” Dolan had already stepped in, looking up to see her standing there naked. “Oh, that’s…” He tipped his head. “That’s what happened to you?”
Jayda tried to get to her bunk. Bouncing just a bit too much in the reduced gravity, she banged her leg on the edge of the bunk. She yanked the cover off the bed. “Do you always just barge in?”
“I announced myself.”
She chastised herself. Earlier she’d terminated unnecessary audio from the computer. That didn’t excuse her ignoring the chirped warnings. “Do you mind? Give me a minute to get dressed.”
Dolan didn’t excuse himself, instead looking to the counter where she’d left her tube of ointment, then to the one in his hand. “I actually came to ask about this stuff, but I see you use it yourself.”
“Yes, I do. I wouldn’t recommend it otherwise.” Jayda tugged at the blanket.
“Well, I’ll let our doctor know that.” He pocketed the tube and went to the one she’d left on the counter. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how to administer it yourself, but since I’m here…” He picked up the tube and swirled it in the air.
Her stomach tightened at the thought of anyone touching her. Of him touching her. Of him seeing her scars. Despite the tumbling in her gut and every instinct telling her to make him leave, she turned her back to him. “Avoid getting any on your skin. You’ll lose feeling for a few hours.”
“Warning received.”
She watched him pull on a glove, then squeeze the ointment onto his fingers. The second he touched her, she flinched. Dolan leaned over her shoulder as he massaged the ointment into her skin in slow deliberate circles. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.” Jayda turned her face away.
His fingers stroked her skin more gently as he reached places that hurt her to attempt reaching.
“It’s really not as bad as I assumed at first glance. A few grafts might remove the remaining scars.”
Her uneasiness spiked as he downplayed her mutilated back. “I know what I look like!” Jayda pulled the blanket up around her shoulders as she stepped away from him. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I wasn’t!” Dolan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry if you thought so.” He peeled off the glove. “I’ll let the doctor know the medication is safe to use.”
He left, but Jayda still held the blanket tight around her shoulders, shivering. His touch hadn’t hurt, not physically. Her skin tingled more than it usually did, feeding the ache in her chest. She’d have to make sure she locked her door.
CHAPTER SIX
“You’re sure about these results?” Dolan looked down at his shoulder as Taylor removed the sterile layer protecting the wound. “Still looks pretty nasty to me.” It looked bad, but as Jayda warned, his shoulder was numb right down to the bone.
“On the surface, but scans confirm the subdural layers are significantly healed. Same for the other patients.” Taylor started the sterile wash for Dolan’s next treatment. “I’ve never seen anything like it and I just came off internship at the best research hospital in the service.”
“And it’s the same for everyone?”
“Other than you, I’ve only used it on the worst three patients, but yes. This is only the third treatment and I’m getting these results. How’s it feel?”
Dolan watched her washing down his shoulder. “Still can’t feel a thing. You might as well be working on someone else, and I’m just watching.” He flexed his arm. “I’ve been able to work just fine.”
“Which is the only reason I agreed to let you volunteer. Last thing we need is you getting an infection, considering.” Taylor sighed as she pulled on a pair of gloves and opened a new tube of the ointment. “This is better than what we’ve been using for years, decades. I’d like to go ahead and use it on everyone with burns.”
“Go ahead.” He looked to the other patients as she gave him his treatment. It only took her a few minutes to finish and wrap his shoulder up again.
He pulled his shirt on as she returned to the work desk. “Hmmm…” Dolan looked over his shoulder towards the door, then went to sit across from her. “Taylor, I know you have full access to the medical computer files. Can you pull up Maldonado’s history?”
Dr. Taylor rolled her eyes at him. “Nnnoooo… you should know better than to ask me that.”
Dolan waved her off before he got the lecture on patient privacy. “I have a good reason to ask, and I don’t want to see it all.”
“I already showed you her professional file.” Taylor squinted at him. “What’s your obsession with this woman?”
“I’m not obsessed.”
“I saw the way you were looking at her professional portfolio. You were smiling, just like that.” She pointed at his face. “Doc told me to watch out if you had that weird grin on, that you were up to something.”
Taylor sat back, folding her arms. “Yeah, if you’d read all her bio, it’s there. She left the military after an explosion at a research facility.”
“Well, she told me a little about it, but I need to know more. I walked in on her using this burn cream on herself. All I want to do is compare her current scars to how she started out, see how well this stuff really works. I think it’s important.”
Dolan could see her skeptical squint getting tighter as temptation crept through the cracks in her medical oath. “I’ll look at her progress reports.”
“Fair enough.” Dolan sat back as she pulled up Maldonado’s medical files.
Taylor kept the screen turned away from him. “Okay, last report is here…” She nodded as she flicked through the reports. “It’ll take a moment to find her earlier reports. Have to go back a ways… yeah, here they are, military medical records…”
Taylor covered her mouth with one hand, her face scrunching up. She didn’t speak as her eyes flitted from one file to the next.
He could see her forcing herself to swallow. “Is it that bad?”
“Yes.” Taylor whispered. She brought her hands together in front of her face, folded as if in prayer. “I don’t know how she survived. How she’s still functioning.” Her eyes shifted to Dolan as she pushed away from the computer. “Excuse me for a moment while I… check on a patient.”
Dolan watched her walk around the workstation and to the string of beds. No one was awake and calling to her, so her message was clear enough. He reached out and swirled the holo-screen his direction. He instantly regretted his actions. He instantly gained some insight into her strange behaviors.
Taylor broke the silence, still fidgeting with the sheet over a sleeping patient. “So, you saw her scars?”
“What’s left of them, they’re almost gone. But I don’t think she’s able to recognize the difference between then and now.” He forced himself to look at the entire file. “When I suggested scar therapy, she thought I was patronizing her.”
“Not surprising after that. She’s probably developed body dysmorphia, post-traumatic stress, survivor’s guilt... The report said a number of people died.”
“One of them her husband, who I happen to bear a resemblance to.” He shrugged at Taylor when she turned back around to give him a renewed squint. “She said she killed him.”
“Not according to the file. She was messed up like that trying to rescue her team. She received several military commendations. However, psychologically she might blame herself. She was the lab director in charge when the accident happened.”
“Ahhhh, that explains even more. There’s always some level of survivor’s guilt when you’re the one in charge, more when it’s someone you’re close to.”
Taylor dropped her squint for another pensive gaze. “As you most likely feel with our own disaster. You and Doc served together. How you holding up?”
“Touché.” He pushed his chair away from the workstation. “I’ve been through this before, so I know the routine. Right now we have more important things to worry about. Forward me everything you can find on Ms. Maldonado. If things get insane, I need to know whether our hostess is going to be an asset or a liability.”
“Now you want her psych profile too?” Taylor laughed. “She’s out here all by herself for a reason. Like… to avoid people.” She kept talking, louder as he headed for the door ignoring her. “You might not like what you find.”
“Send it anyway.”
“Yes, sir!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As much as Jayda resented being summoned, she sat through updates from the repair teams, impressed with their efficiency.
The tech reporting bowed his head to her. “We have your perimeter net up again, as well as the station’s shields. We found a programming virus set to go live when the system detected an approaching storm over a certain severity. This one qualified and shut down the whole of your defenses.”
“How’d you get it up and running so quickly?” Jayda frowned at him. The last team had spent a week on simple repairs, or sabotage.
“You helped.” The lead tech smiled at her. “Normally archive files are purged after a few upgrades, but you send them to backup instead. We found a clean version and rebooted the system.”
“Good job.” Dolan nodded to the techs. “So the station is protected. How about our ship?”
“Covered. We’re inside the shielding.”
“Which we might have to resort to.” The repair team leader chimed in. “Starboard weapons are too damaged to repair. Port side defenses are intact, but blocked by the station as long as we’re docked.”
One of the younger engineers stepped out from the back wall. “We can disengage the clamps and use the robot arms to rotate the ship around. Unfortunately it eliminates access to and from the ship, and might make us vulnerable again.”
“No, the shields are expandable to anything on the arms. Field-podding is possible too.” Seeing the curious looks from the team, the tech held his hands up in fists. “Works like a soap bubble splitting, but it’s still connected. It’s a really cool system.”
“Still a problem with access.” Another junior engineer spoke up.
“We can ride the maintenance bots.” Jayda recognized the young woman who’d run the laser test. “The bots are easy to handle.”
“Yeah, they are.” One of the other engineers smirked. “Hung onto one running over the ship’s surface. Great toys here.”
“Okay, kids!” Dolan snipped at the crew. “Glad you’ve had a little fun out there, but this is serious.”
They were chastised, but laughed a little too. One by one problems were poised and solutions tossed out by everyone, veterans and young ensigns alike. The camaraderie made Jayda reminiscent of her days in the service. She’d forgotten how that felt.
As the meeting ended and everyone returned to their duties, Dolan came to where she sat quietly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes!” She sat up straighter as he knelt down in front of her. “Just thinking.”
He smiled and it was another knife in her chest. Dolan had that same crooked smile, as if plotting some wicked joke. She flinched when his hand settled on her knee.
Dolan noticed. He looked down at his hand. “Not to be intrusive, but you know as well as anyone the effects of low gravity, without muscular therapy.”
He wasn’t smiling anymore. Jayda jerked her knee away from his hand. “I do therapy. Daily, until you showed up.” He stood up, but didn’t back away, holding out a hand to her. “What do you need to get back on track?”
“I’m not used to other people using my gym.” She still didn’t accept his hand.
“What time would you like it back? I can make sure my crew stay away so you can have privacy.” His hand didn’t budge.
“I usually do an hour in the late afternoon, station time, depending on what’s happening in the lab.”
“Then I will keep everyone out from four to six.” He looked to the galley clock and back down at her. “I’ll make sure it’s clear and you can get back in routine today.”
She’d talked herself into this corner. He wasn’t going to let her slip away with excuses. She took his hand, gritting her teeth as she stood. He didn’t give her an extra boost by pulling, just a hand to steady herself.
He didn’t let go immediately either, or back up to give her space. She felt even more uncomfortable standing close enough to pick up his male scent, the hint of the sonic cleanser overlaying a natural muskiness. Neither overpowering the other.
Slowly he stepped to the side, but still didn’t release her hand. His other hand slipped into the small of her back, a gentle pressure, propelling her to take a step. She didn’t pull away,
or breathe as he walked her towards her quarters.
He let go as her door opened. “Change and I’ll see to it you aren’t disturbed.” He bowed and walked away.
She watched Dolan leave, then remembered to inhale, stepping backwards into her room. She’d lied and been caught in it. Her workouts were not up to her doctor’s recommendation. Out here she never expected to be called out on skipping days. No doubt he’d be waiting for her. Grudgingly she changed.
As she assumed, he stood guard at the gym door. “All yours.” He gestured for her to enter.
“Thank you.” She tried to sound sincere. Going straight for the treadmill, she harnessed herself in. The computer identified her as she took hold of the hand rails, adjusting the program to compensate for the additional gravity. The pace was slow and easy, or it should have been, if she’d kept up with her schedule.
Though she didn’t look, she felt Dolan watching as the computer started altering the speed, angle and tension. Jayda pushed or pulled herself through five minutes before the pain started to dig into her resolve. Seven minutes in, her hands hurt from gripping the rails so tight, but she couldn’t quit.
After ten minutes of this torture she couldn’t get a breath into her chest and tripped, her feet dragging, her fingers frozen to the rails. An arm wrapped around her waist, holding her as the treadmill’s tension bands snapped free.
“I’m okay.” Jayda gasped as Dolan pulled her other hand free. “I slipped.”
“I know, but you’ve done enough for today.” Dolan swept her up in his arms and carried her back to her room.
She was beyond protesting as he helped her stretch out on her bunk, biting her lip as her legs cramped up. Sucking in air through clenched teeth.
She groaned as his hands started rubbing out the knotted muscles in her thighs. She’d have pulled away, if she could.
He looked away from her, over his shoulder. “Computer, respond.”
