Star Cruise - Outbreak

by Veronica Scott

“We’ve had the military injects,” he said calmly, pointing at her and then to himself. “So far those mystery concoctions are protecting us and the other veterans just fine.”

  Taking a swallow of cold synth coffee, she choked a bit. “I wish I felt as confident as you do.”

  He laid his hand over her right hand for a moment. “You’re a worst-case person, and I’m trying to stay optimistic, so between us, we’ve got balance. Not everyone is sick, not everyone got the stomach bug. How many cases were there?”

  She turned her hand under his and squeezed his fingers gently. The warm clasp of his hand was comforting. Her pulse stuttered and slowed a bit. He was making sense. “About a thousand. Maybe one-third of the people on board.”

  “So two thousand are healthy. And maybe only a small percentage of those who were sick progress to what Arln and Groskin had.” True to his word, Jake seemed determined to be optimistic tonight.

  “I hope you’re right. And there’s a remote possibility the norovirus is not related to the purple splotches.” Jake drew in a breath as if he might argue with her, so she removed her hand from his to shake her index finger at him. “We’re in territory unknown to me right now, and I can’t allow myself to jump to any conclusions. I’m going to recommend quarantining anyone who has reported nosebleeds. I’m going to recommend a mandatory exam of every person on board this ship for the purple bruising, and anyone who has the distinctive coloration goes into quarantine as well.”

  “Going to get a lot of pushback from the passengers, if the captain agrees with your recommendations.”

  “I’m trying to save lives here, contain the outbreak.” Disbelief making her blood pressure rise again, she massaged her temples in an attempt to stop the pounding pain. “Why would anyone object?”

  “Doc, you’ve met our passengers. The entitled don’t believe rules apply to them. Fleming may want to wait.”

  “We have to stop the spread of this virus.” Dumbfounded, she sank against the back of her chair and stared at him. “That’s our top priority.”

  Jake shifted in his seat but kept his eyes focused on her. “I agree that saving lives is the top priority. But Fleming and the rest of us have to consider the life of the ship, the viability of the CLC Line itself. We’ve got a lot invested in this venture. No one’s going to want to travel on a plague ship. If this incident isn’t handled right, we could go bankrupt.”

  “You can worry about the business ramifications. I don’t care—people’s lives are more important than future considerations of going broke.”

  “I’m trying to tell you Fleming will be under a lot of pressure from management. He’ll do the right thing—he’s a standup guy, but he may want to move more slowly than you’re recommending. You said yourself Arln could be a unique case.”

  “Yes, Groskin didn’t exhibit the massive hemorrhage. Bruising indicates bleeding under the skin but is less dire than the blood loss Arln suffered at the end. Without doing an autopsy, my informed guess is Groskin died from a heart attack. But don’t draw too much comfort from the ordinary manner of his death. He may have died from a previous, unrelated condition before the disease progressed to the final stage. On the other hand, both he and Arln could have been more affected by the mystery disease than a person in good health would be.” She made a face. “That’s my problem right now. Too many possibilities and unknowns.”

  “I’m just saying present the facts and your recommendations to the captain, but be ready for him to hold off on implementing the drastic ones. In the meantime, we can gather intel, do analysis, as you wanted.”

  Next day Emily had to admit Jake’s assessment of how Captain Fleming was going to react had been accurate. He refused to authorize a ship-wide message, nor did he agree to quarantining passengers who’d had a nosebleed in the last few days.

  “Try to see it from my point of view,” he said as Emily left her seat to pace in his office. “We’ve had two cases you can only tell me might be related. We don’t even know for sure as yet. Two men have died. While regrettable, two deaths don’t justify upsetting the entire passenger population and ruining their cruise experience. We’ll stay vigilant, you’ll keep me posted of any change in the situation, and we’ll continue on our course. I think the best thing we can do, frankly, is get to Sector Hub, where there are resources established for handling this kind of thing better than we can. I’ve ordered the chief engineer to increase speed so we arrive sooner. If we luck out and can hand off the entire problem to the Sectors authorities, the Line and the ship emerge in the clear. And our passengers receive the best possible care more quickly.” Fleming was reasonable and stubborn, unconvinced of the desperate urgency Emily herself was feeling about the situation.

  Staring above his head at the vidscreen displaying a holo of a star cluster, Emily took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm.

  Jake spoke up when she said nothing further. “I’ll have to notify the Hereditary Princess’s people about Arln’s death.”

  “Please convey my condolences to Her Highness.” Fleming studied Emily for a moment. Straightening her spine, she regretted making her frustration plain to see. “Doctor, I give you my word, if there are additional cases, I’ll revisit your recommendations and take all necessary steps to contain the outbreak.”

  “Can I at least set up a quarantine area? If and when we need such a space, there may not be time to do it right.” Emily made a last-ditch effort to plead for what she considered necessary.

  Fleming rubbed his chin. “Where do you recommend we establish this facility?”

  At something of a loss and not as familiar with the ship as her companions were, Emily deferred to Jake, casting a pleading glance at him, hoping for his support. “We could have as many as a thousand extremely ill patients. Is there a suitable space on board?”

  “I don’t think we’d need that much capacity,” Jake said. “Let’s start small and be prepared to ramp up. There’s the big conference room slash banquet hall on Level C, sir. No one booked it for this cruise, and we’re using it for storage at the moment. Passengers don’t normally go to Level C unless we’re hosting a convention, which thankfully isn’t the case this cruise, so our preparations would be fairly inconspicuous.”

  “All right, go with Level C,” Fleming agreed. “Maeve, provide the doctor with whatever she needs.”

  “Yes, Captain.” The AI’s voice had the warm undertone that was invariably present when the ship addressed Fleming.

  “I should see the space,” Emily said.

  “You and Jake work it out.” Fleming rose. “Is there anything else, Doctor?”

  “A crew bulletin maybe? It would help if staff could be on the lookout for sick passengers, and of course, if any member of the crew has symptoms, the issue needs to be reported to sickbay without delay.”

  The captain considered for a moment. “How many cases of the stomach bug were there among the crew?”

  “A proportionately low number, actually. Maybe one hundred at most.” Emily was grateful for small favors. The more healthy crew members, the better for managing the situation.

  “Gotta appreciate the military’s over-enthusiasm for giving injects,” Jake said with a grin. “All us veterans are protected from the nasty Groskin bug. I bet there isn’t a single veteran among the hundred.”

  “Write a bulletin, Doc, run it by Jake, and then I’ll issue it,” Fleming said. “Keep me posted. Unless there’s anything else we need to discuss right now, you’re both dismissed.”

  “I wish we could get our hands on some of the military’s vaccines,” Jake said as he rose and stepped toward the door.

  “Might as well wish for a hospital ship to dock with us and off-load all the sick.” Emily hastened after him. “Time’s wasting. Show me this conference room.”

  The portal to the captain’s office closed behind them. Jake headed to the gravlift. “I’ll take you there, and then I’ve got to go notify Her Highness about Arln, which I’m compelled to do
in person.” Drawing a deep breath, Jake stopped in midstride.

  “What?” Surprised, Emily, who had moved ahead of him in her haste, pivoted.

  “Falyn’s pet, the green whatchamacallit. Could the pet be the source of this virus? Animals carry bugs that affect humans, right?”

  “Yes, hence the ICC rules about not carrying undocumented creatures.” Emily resumed her rapid walk toward the gravlift. “But Groskin never met Falyn’s pet, as far as we know. He was dead before the princess even came aboard, remember? And the darn thing sneezed all over both you and me, and we’re not sick.”

  “Injects,” he reminded her, tapping his bicep as they stepped into the stream and descended side by side.

  “All right, if we can get a blood sample from the animal, we can run tests. Obtaining samples will be your job, since you’re going to see Falyn anyway.” She punched his shoulder playfully as she stepped into the corridor. “Good luck with persuading her to cooperate.”

  Jake opened the portal to the designated conference room, and as Emily stepped inside, Maeve raised the light levels. Emily scanned the space, plans whirling in her mind. “A bit fancy for an isolation ward, but good-sized. I can locate the most serious cases at the far end, have my medical station in the center, the decontamination unit at this portal, a lab in the smaller room down the corridor, my office in the smaller room next door… Can we get the boxes and crates removed right away?” Surprised not to get an answer from Jake, she spun on her heel and observed him putting away his AI. “What?”

  “I’m getting you an assistant.”

  “There’s another doctor on board?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t know yet. Maeve is still compiling.”

  “Then who?”

  “Meg Antille.” Jake ticked off the positive points of his plan on his fingers. “She’s extremely organized, knows the ship better than you do and can get things done. She can also help you interface with the passengers.”

  “But she’s already got a job taking care of the Enzell family. You know, the contest winners. Won’t pulling Meg away from them raise suspicions?”

  “The family’s been on board long enough to know their way around by now. She doesn’t need to babysit. I’ll clear it with her boss, don’t worry. Do you need me for anything else right now?”

  Emily waved her hand absently. “No, I’m fine, thanks. Good luck with the princess and her dragon of a regent.”

  “See you later?”

  Blinking, she focused her attention on him. “Of course. Sorry we didn’t get to the dancing portion of the evening last night.”

  “I suspect upset or delayed plans are an occupational hazard of dating a doctor.” He shrugged. “Works the same way for a ship’s security. If we’re both determined enough, the dancing will happen.”

  She had a delicious tingle along her nerves that said he wasn’t merely referring to dancing. “I think we’re both pretty strong-willed, yes?”

  “No obstacle’s ever stood for too long in my way, not when there’s something I really want,” he said, blowing her a kiss. “Watch yourself today.”

  Meg knocked on the portal, standing aside as Jake left. From her wide-eyed expression and the way she watched Jake leave, Emily gathered the staffer had seen his out-of-character, lighthearted gesture, but wisely chose not to mention it. When she gave her full attention to Emily, her tone was brisk and all business. “You need my help, Dr. Shane?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  After spending half an hour bringing Meg up to speed on the situation and discussing what she needed done to the conference room, Emily felt confident she could hand off the logistics of setting up an isolation ward to the other woman. “I’ve got to get back to sickbay.”

  “Wouldn’t your staff have called you if there was a problem?”

  “Probably.” Emily checked her AI, but there were no new messages. She rubbed her arm, trying to soothe the goose bumps. “I have an uneasy feeling, you know? I learned the hard way to pay attention to my instincts on Fantalar.”

  “I know exactly what you mean.” Meg made a shooing motion. “Go. Maeve and I have this under control, right?”

  “Indeed,” Maeve said. “I’m fabricating the requested furniture units now.”

  “All right then, I’m off. Call me if there are any questions.” Emily barely waited for Meg’s confirmation before she was hastening to the gravlift and on her way to sickbay a few levels above. She remembered Red’s request to give Meg an enhanced vaccination, similar to the military ones. For all the good it may do, I need to administer that today. As she approached the entrance, she was relieved not to see any crowd. Guess my imagination was working overtime. Maybe Jake’s more optimistic take on things was going to be the correct one. She halted inside the door as one of the ship’s security detail greeted her with his hand outstretched.

  “Dr. Shane, we haven’t met yet. I’m Clint Miltan. Jake assigned me to the day shift here, although it’s been quiet so far.”

  “I hate to say it, but I hope boredom will be our biggest problem.” She shook his hand. “Thank you.”

  His smile remained as enthusiastic as it had been originally. “All part of the job.”

  She went to the reception desk, where Relba, the morning nurse, was seated, fidgeting and wide-eyed. “I heard about the patient coding last night,” she said before Emily could utter a word. “I didn’t sign on for this kind of thing.”

  Checking that there were no patients present, Emily said, “What kind of thing exactly?”

  “People bleeding to death. An epidemic.” The nurse swallowed hard. “Risky stuff.”

  “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet, possibly nothing so dire. I haven’t made any official declarations so let’s not use that word.” Emily fought her desire to fire the woman on the spot and order her out of sickbay. Nebula Zephyr’s medical resources were thin enough as it was. The nurse had proven herself competent under ordinary circumstances, and she was good with the passengers. She’d been quite effective with Sessaly, the hysterical Socialite girl the other day. On that thought, Emily took a deep breath. “Even if we do have more critical care patients as the cruise continues, there’ll be a need for treatment of the routine kinds of complaints and problems.”

  “Like the ’Lite with the splinter?” Relba preened and examined her perfect nails. “I do usually get good tips at the end of the cruise from passengers who’ve been in to see us. I know how to make the sickbay experience more palatable for them.”

  Swallowing her distaste for the way cruise-ship medical staff could earn tips, Emily nodded affably. “Exactly. If Bevar, Vicente, Pamla and I have to prioritize the seriously ill patients, I’ll need you more than ever to handle the routine walk-ins.” She made herself smile and moved to her tiny office, where she could see the head nurse waiting.

  Already talking as soon as Emily crossed the threshold, Vicente moved aside so she could get to her desk. “I sent Bevar to his cabin to rest at the end of his shift. He wanted to hang around just in case, but there wasn’t anything new going on here.”

  “Good. I hate to say this, but I think we’re in the calm before the storm, so it’s best if he catches up on his sleep.” She scanned the reams of data Maeve had made available regarding the passengers and crew who’d suffered from the norovirus. Frustrated, she minimized the report. “I don’t have time to study all this. Maeve, can you run the initial analysis?”

  “Of course, Doctor. Guidance as to what variables I’m sorting for?”

  This was so far beyond her specialty and knowledge. And the answer she sought might not be in the data at all. Emily sighed, taking a stab at what might be useful to winnow from the giant haystack of random facts. “Any common patterns of behavior? The food each person ate, the places on board he or she visited—I don’t know. Age, sex, blood type, birth planets, eye color—you’re the AI, you figure it out.”

  “Yes, Doctor. I’ll sort for commonalities in any aspect of the 1,327 aff
ected sentients.” Maeve did her little trick of making a clicking noise to indicate she’d checked out of the conversation for now.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Emily muttered. “When will I remember that rule?” One eyebrow raised, Vicente stared at her. Gesturing at the sickbay beyond her door, Meg said, “This is about as far as you can get from the clinical situation I had on Fantalar. Which should be making me happy. I thought I wanted to be a civilian doctor now, dealing with garden-variety bugs and broken bones. However, I’m finding the prospect of handling an outbreak of some unknown, lethal pathogen on board a civilian ship daunting, to say the least.”

  Vicente nodded. “I was a medical corpsman on a military hospital ship on the front lines. I can relate to your Fantalar experience, Doctor. Of course, we weren’t planetside under active bombardment like you were.” Eyes narrowed, he asked, “Do you think we’ll have more patients like Arln?”

  “I’d have to say it’s a distinct possibility. I don’t have to tell you we’re shorthanded.” Tapping her stylus on the desk, she glanced at the nurse in the reception area and frowned.

  He followed the direction of her attention. “Don’t worry about Relba. She frets and complains, but if the going gets tough, she’ll hang in there with us.”

  “I’ll defer to your judgment—”

  The portal to the corridor burst open, and Mr. Enzell struggled into the lobby, half carrying his wife and surrounded by their white-faced children. Syl was sobbing in great gasps, and the boys’ faces were set in expressions of terror. The oldest had a blood-soaked wad of cloth pressed to his nose. Mrs. Enzell’s head lolled, and she looked as if she was crying tears of blood. Clint immediately moved to support the woman on the other side, calling for Emily as he did so.

  “Seven hells, here we go.” Emily was right behind them as the men helped Mrs. Enzell to an exam room and onto the bed.

  “Trynna started bleeding a few minutes ago, Doctor,” Mr. Enzell said as medical personnel hurried to get their new patient hooked up to monitors. “She said she was dizzy and then—then her eyes—she was—the tears were blood. And next thing I knew, my son’s nose was bleeding. What’s going on?”