My mouth felt dry, and I tried to decide what to say next. Never had I felt so awkward around him.
“What were you asking about yesterday?”
I knew what he meant, but still I asked, “What do you mean?”
“In Trent’s quarters. You asked me something. What was it?”
He sounded lost again. Confused—searching.
“Langham’s Disease,” I said, trying to sound cheerful and careless, but with a vague feeling that I was failing.
“Yes—that was it.” He didn’t say anything else, didn’t ask why I’d wanted to know, nothing. He said nothing at all.
“Should we go to breakfast?” I asked, struggling to speak lightly.
“I need to wash my hands,” he said, standing up. “You go ahead without me.”
Part of me protested against leaving him, but I agreed and left the room, my heart sinking quickly. Something was wrong.
I sat by myself at a little round table in the mess hall, idly picking at my food. It occurred to me that I had not told the Doctor about the Langham’s Disease test I’d asked Commander Howitz to help me with. I hadn’t intended to keep it a secret from him; I’d meant it when I told the Commander that I wouldn’t. Yet somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything about it. Why, I did not know exactly. It just seemed that if I said anything about it—well, he’d know that I’d doubted him. And then if he had done nothing wrong, it would hurt him. If he had—
Well, that’s what Commander Howitz was afraid of.
Maybe he was right. What harm could it do to not tell him, or at least not yet?
My conscience pricked me, hard. Was that fair to him? When had he ever done anything to deserve this distrust? He was my father, after all.
He’s not your real father.
I felt like slapping myself. Yes he was! It didn’t matter if he wasn’t my biological father. He was the one who had trained me, provided for me, cared for me for my whole life.
But it was all so hard to explain.
“Miss Lloyd?”
Startled, I looked up and saw young August Howitz standing in front of my table, a piece of paper in his hands.
“Yes?”
He held the paper out to me. “My father asked me to give you this. He had to do some work on one of the airlocks, but wanted to get it to you as soon as possible.”
To my frustration, I found myself reddening with guilt as I took the paper. I should show this to the Doctor. It was probably the notes on the blood test.
“Thank you.” I took the paper and folded it, then slipped it into my jacket pocket. Nervously, I pushed a slip of hair behind my ear and turned back to my food.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes, thank you.” I felt my skin turning even hotter as I realized how my behavior must look to the young man. I looked up and tried to smile. “Forgive me if I’m being rude. I’m just—tired.”
Nodding, he said, “I understand. I heard that your father has not been feeling well—it must have been quite a strain on you.”
“I can handle it,” I assured. “He’ll be fine.”
“I’m sure he will.”
I nodded, and went on pretending to eat.
“Can I do anything for you, Miss Lloyd?”
The tone was kind and respectful, and it put me more at ease and softened my heart. I smiled more gratefully this time. “No, but thank you for your concern.”
He smiled back, then turned and left.
There were few people left in the room, I observed. Perhaps half a dozen officers, one of whom was the Captain, who sat near the doorway finishing the last few bites of his breakfast.
My stomach rumbled, and I looked down at my food and wrinkled my nose. I didn’t want to eat, but I needed to. Laying my fork down, I picked up a piece of bacon and prepared to bite into it.
“Gerry!”
The Captain’s voice was tinged with concern, and I jerked my head in his direction.
The Doctor stood in the doorway. I couldn’t see him well that far away, with the light behind him, but he seemed to stagger slightly as he walked, and his shoulders drooped. Dropping the bacon, I jumped up and raced towards him.
The Captain was at his side in a moment. “Gerry, you look awful. You’re sweating...”
From this distance I could see moisture dotting his face, but he shook his head. “No, I was just washing my face. I’m all right, Trent.”
He tried to push the Captain away and start towards a chair, but the Captain held firmly to his arm. “Gerry, you’re not well. You need rest.”
The Doctor grunted. “I’m the doctor, not you.”
“As your commanding officer, I order you...” He stopped when he saw me hurrying up. “Andi, you can convince him.”
I stared. The Captain was right, he did look awful. He was pale, except for the two dark half-circles under his eyes, and his eyes had a glazed-over look. His face was moist, as were his hands, and when he looked at me, he looked as though he was trying to find his way.
“Where’s Crash?” he asked. “He was here just now, wasn’t he?”
I froze, staring into his eyes. He still looked lost, and I spoke slowly. “Crash left, Doctor. He left yesterday morning.”
“Left? But he was just here...”
What was wrong with him? He was acting the same way he had the night before, only worse. It was disturbing, and a wave of panic swept over me. Was he going crazy? Or was he developing some kind of psychosis? I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to my beloved Doctor. I just couldn’t even stand to let the thought cross my mind.
I touched his hand. “Dad, what’s wrong?”
His eyes suddenly cleared, and some color washed into his face. “Wrong? I’m only tired, Andi. Trent, what are you holding onto me for?”
The Captain and I exchanged a worried look, and he opened his mouth to speak, but a voice from his wristcom intercepted him.
“Airlock prepared for mooring, sir.” I recognized the voice of Commander Howitz.
The Captain let go of his friend to answer the call. “I’ll be right there, Mr. Howitz.” He switched frequencies and said, “Mr. Yanendale, give permission to moor.”
“Aye sir.”
Turning the comm off, the Captain spoke clearly and firmly. “Gerry, if you won’t listen to reason, I’m going to have to confine you to quarters.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Trent. I’m only tired...”
“Dad,” I begged.
He looked at me, and I saw confusion still hiding behind his eyes. But he didn’t complain any more.
The Captain laid a hand on his arm. “Come on, Gerry.”
I waited, my hand on his, anxious to hear his response. He looked from one of us to the other, paused, then relaxed. “All right. I am tired.”
Letting go of him, the Captain turned to me. “See that he gets to his quarters all right, Andi.”
“Yes sir.”
“I don’t see what the fuss is about...” the Doctor grumbled.
“Please, Dad.” I looked up into his eyes for a moment. He sighed, and let me lead him out of the mess hall.
“I’m hungry,” he began when we were a few feet down the corridor.
“I’ll get you something, Doctor.”
Nodding, he kept silent for the rest of the walk to his cabin. He lay down without complaint, and nodded again when I said, “I’ll be right back with your breakfast.”
I hurried out of the room, heart pounding. My hands shook, and I tried to take calm, slow breaths. “Just tired” wasn’t good enough anymore. Something was the matter.
XI
Almira was kind enough to fix a tray of eggs and bacon for the Doctor, even though she had finished cooking and begun cleaning up. I took the meal down to him.
“Thank you,” was all he said, and he didn’t look like he wanted to talk. A pang pierced my heart as I watched him slowly begin eating the eggs. What had happened to the energetic, witt
y Doctor of a few days ago?
“Can I get you anything?” I asked softly.
Shaking his head, he focused his eyes on mine for a moment. “Just look after sickbay for me.”
I nodded, two quick nods. “I will.”
As he turned back to his food, something seemed to stop him. He looked back at me, searchingly, but instead of looking at my face, he looked at my jacket pocket. “What’s that?”
“What?” I asked, forgetting. Then I reddened as I remembered the paper from Commander Howitz. A corner of it stuck out of my jacket. I should tell the Doctor about it, show him, let him figure out the mystery with me.
“It’s nothing,” I mumbled, stuffing it back into my pocket.
Without even questioning, he went back to his eggs. I swallowed, opened my mouth, then turned and fled, not even waiting to make sure the door slid closed behind me.
I slipped into my room, not allowing myself time to stop and think, and I pulled the paper out of my pocket. Then I stood holding it and observing my accelerated heartbeat for a moment. Closing my eyes tightly, I opened the paper, then looked at it.
It was the blood test results, just as I’d thought. I skimmed over the automatic results, things I already knew. Blood type, red blood cell count, etc. It was the special searches that I was interested in.
I had tried doing some research on Langham’s disease on the Doctor’s electronic magazines, but had been unable to find anything beyond vague references. Commander Howitz hadn’t been lying when he said that it was obscure. I didn’t know what the organism in Langham’s Disease was called, but out of the corner of my eye I saw some black, cramped handwriting at the bottom of the page, and assumed he’d explained. Eagerly, I read over the plasma report and noted the small cell count of “angiophages.”
Gripping the paper, I put the word together in my mind. Angio—vessel. Phage—eating. Eating vessels. That wasn’t a hard one to figure out.
My gaze drifted to the bottom of the page, and I strove to make out the Commander’s small, inky handwriting.
“Presence of angiophages detected, though in small amounts. Not sure what to make of this. Will find you at lunch. Erasmus Howitz.”
That wasn’t much of an explanation, but he did say he would speak to me at lunch. Gritting my teeth, I ripped the paper into two pieces, wadded them both up viciously, then hurled them into the recyclator chute next to the lavatory. Then I sighed.
My wristcom beeped, and Captain Trent’s voice sounded from it. “Andi? Did you get him settled?”
“Yes sir. He’s resting now. I was just on my way up to sickbay.”
“Could you do me a favor first?”
“Yes sir.”
“We have some guests in airlock one, but we’re in the middle of a warp test right now and I can’t leave the bridge. Would you welcome them aboard please?”
“Certainly.”
“Mr. Yanendale is coming down, too. The visitors are looking for someone—they think he might be here. No, Guilders, wait a second! Sorry, Andi... I don’t want them wandering around my ship until I talk to them, so you and Yanendale take them to the briefing room on C-Deck, all right?”
“Yes sir, I’ll do that,” I assured, already starting out the door.
“Thank you. Tell them I’ll meet them there in twenty minutes. Hold on, keep course...”
The call was cut off, and I raced down the hall and up the elevator towards airlock one, heart beating nervously. Looking for someone? I shuddered as I remembered the warning Doctor Holmes had sent via Crash.
“What would they want with an old country doctor?”
They couldn’t be here for him. And if they were, then they were mistaken in thinking—
Thinking what? What did they think?
I pushed these thoughts away and hastened to obey the Captain’s request.
Lieutenant Commander Yanendale was already at the airlock when I reached it, and he nodded briskly as I approached. Moving his fingers over the keypad to the left of the airlock entrance, he unsealed it and then stepped back, hands behind his back, legs apart.
I stood up straight and put my hands by my side, trying to look proper and military as the large door slid open noisily to reveal two men.
One of them was tall, with broad shoulders and a thick set jaw. The other, a little behind him, was significantly shorter, hardly more than my height. He had bright eyes that seemed to be too high on his forehead and a small nose that was turned up slightly. He stepped out of the airlock with a strange gait that made it look as though one leg was shorter than the other. They were both dressed in some kind of blue uniform with a silver insignia. I didn’t recognize the symbol, but Yanendale appeared to.
“Lieutenant Commander Yanendale, comm marshal of the starship Surveyor.”
He glanced at me, and I bowed slightly to the visitors. “And I’m Andi Lloyd, second medical officer. Welcome aboard, gentlemen.”
The tall man barely nodded, and flashed a badge from inside his jacket. “Oliver Peat, special agent of the ILA. This is my partner, Mr. Sigmet.”
“Welcome,” Yanendale echoed. “Captain Trent will see you in the briefing room in a moment.”
“Won’t you come this way?” I said, hoping I sounded formal and courteous enough. I wasn’t used to welcoming official visitors, and I certainly wasn’t used to speaking with agents of the International Legal Association. These must not be the men Crash had warned about.
After I gestured in the general direction of the briefing room, Yanendale began to walk there, and I smiled at the two men before following. Peat didn’t change his expression in the least, but Sigmet, as he began limping along in his strange way, did. At least, his mouth did, curving up in a broad smile. His eyes didn’t change at all.
They both unnerved me. I turned away from them, and found myself reassured by the familiarity even of the back of Yanendale’s green jacket.
We led them a little way down the hall and into the white briefing room. Yanendale stood aside to let them in the door, and then gestured to the seats at the long, white table.
Without waiting for further invitation, they both selected seats about halfway down the room and sat. They didn’t speak to us, but just sat patiently staring ahead. I found myself feeling more awkward, and a sidelong glance at Yanendale showed me that he wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable himself. He cleared his throat. “The Captain should be here soon.”
Peat nodded, and Sigmet smiled with his mouth only again, but neither of them said anything.
After another silent moment had passed, I spoke up, my voice sounding small and immature. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”
“An interview with Captain Trent,” said Peat calmly.
I blushed. “I mean... could I get you a drink or something?”
“No thank you.”
Even if I’d wanted to speak again, I couldn’t think of anything else to say. So we stayed as we were, the two agents sitting silently, Yanendale and I standing on either side of the open door, waiting.
It seemed like hours before the Captain finally walked through the door, standing straight and tall, his tanned face serious and captain-like, with his green cap perched staunchly on top of his head. The two guests stood up when he entered.
“I’m Captain Harrison Trent,” he said, advancing to shake hands with the two men.
“Oliver Peat, special agent of the ILA,” said Peat, with exactly the same intonations he’d used when introducing himself to us. “This is my assistant Mr. Sigmet.”
The Captain furrowed his brows. “What is the trouble?”
Mr. Sigmet spoke up quickly, as if to reassure him. “It has nothing to do with you or your ship, Captain.”
Rather than responding, the Captain turned around. “Yanendale, you may return to your station.”
The comm marshal nodded and left. I was about to turn and leave, but the Captain’s voice stopped me. “Wait, Andi, my comm is out of batteries. Would you go replace them and ask
Guilders to report here as soon as he can? And bring it back when you’re done.” As he spoke, he unstrapped his wristcom and held it out to me.
“Yes sir.” Taking it, I hurried to the hold, where extra supplies of all kinds were kept. On the way, I gave Guilders the Captain’s message via my wristcom, and when I reached the hold I quickly replaced the batteries in the comm. Then I rushed back up the elevator to C-Deck and to the briefing room.
Guilders wasn’t there yet, but the Captain was deep in conversation with the two agents when I entered.
“I don’t care if you have a warrant, he’s under my authority and my protection, and I’ll have to verify your story before I can allow you to make an arrest.”
“But you have no way of verifying it,” Sigmet protested. “You’re not in range of the comm towers.”
“We will be, in four more sectors, and you will just have to wait until then.”
Peat stood and drew himself up to his full height, eyes indignant. “But Trent, Erasmus Howitz is a dangerous criminal!”
XII
I stood frozen in the doorway, the Captain’s wristcom lying in my hand. The Captain furrowed his brows and stood up, almost matching Peat’s height.
“I’m sorry, but I will have to verify your story. Commander Howitz is not going anywhere; you can stay here until we reach sector fifty-one-forty.”
“Excuse me, Miss Andi.”
It was Guilders’ voice, from behind me, and I felt his hand laid politely on my shoulder. I realized then that I was in his way, and I scooted aside, feeling vaguely confused. Then I remembered why I had come here. “Your comm, Captain,” I said, stepping forward.
He reached out and took it, and I could see frustration behind his eyes. He liked Commander Howitz, and the cold insistence of these men clashed with his normal routine. “Thank you. You may go attend sickbay now.”
I nodded, wishing that I could in good conscience take that as a suggestion rather than a command to leave the room. But when the Captain gave suggestions, they were to be obeyed, as I had learned long ago. I turned and left, feeling my own frustration as the door slid closed behind me.
Firmament: Radialloy Page 7
