The Dead Priest

by K A Bledsoe

  “Well, let’s get you up here for a thorough check,” said the doctor, looking at Lenore while patting the side of the control board.

  “Please, no. Just the knitter please. Our medbed may be only first aid level, but it cleared me of any possible hemorrhages and gave me drugs to counter pain and concussion.”

  The doctor gave Lenore a penetrating look as if she knew exactly why Lenore didn't want to be in a medbed. “Hm. Well, I don’t usually let my patients dictate their care, but we can start with the arm.” She typed a command into the bed’s console and a cabinet on the wall beside it opened to let a large device descend to the level of the bed. It resembled a small coffin about half a meter wide and two meters in length. It split lengthwise to reveal a pink substance on both top and bottom. “As you can see, this will work on most limbs, where we see the majority of broken bones. Now, we need to keep your arm as still as possible, so I do need you to sit up on the bed.”

  Lenore complied and the doctor efficiently removed the sling and immobilization sheath.

  “I haven’t seen one of these since I was an intern,” she said with a chuckle as she placed it to the side. She maneuvered the device so that it was on Lenore’s left side at shoulder height. As gently as possible, she placed Lenore’s arm in the pink substance, a warm gel that held her arm firmly as the top came down to completely enclose it. Another tap on the command console and the wall lit up with a display of the bones in her arm. Dr. Dena closely examined the entire picture.

  “Hm. Yes. Several breaks along the entire arm and hand. How does someone break only the middle and pinky fingers?”

  Allison laughed aloud. “That’s what I said.” The doctor laughed with her then grew serious.

  “This device is very efficient. However, quick regrowth of bone is quite painful. Since I don’t know what painkillers you have already had without a blood test, I don’t want to give you more. We sometimes have to sedate our patients.”

  “I will be fine,” said Lenore. “I have a high tolerance for pain.”

  The doctor glanced at Allison who was nodding. “All right, but if it becomes too much, please inform me right away.”

  A gentle warmth spread along her arm and Lenore thought this would be easy. Then an ache started deep in her arm and the pain slowly increased. The doctor approached her bandaged head with a medical instrument. Lenore leaned away from the doctor.

  “Please, hold still or the bone may not repair correctly.”

  “I told you my head is fine.”

  Dr. Dena sighed as if she was losing patience with her stubborn patient. “This is merely a tissue regenerator. It will seal the wound correctly and heal it enough so that it won’t scar. The medbed would do that if you let me hook you up but since that’s not going to happen, this is the next best thing.”

  Lenore assented and Dr. Dena removed the bandage and went to work. The distraction was welcoming as the pain in her arm was getting stronger.

  “So,” said the doctor as she held the regenerator near the wound. “Since you are from offplanet, I assume you were the ones who brought in the vaccines that are supposed to get rid of the plague.”

  Lenore couldn’t help a large twitch, and the pain that shot down her arm brought tears to her eyes.

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Well, I was in the room when the call came to organize assistants for the researcher. Bondly, I think?”

  “Bondle,” said Allison.

  “Right.” She changed her grip on the medical instrument. “When a planet goes through a crisis like a decades-long plague, they tend to grow closer. And something like a possible cure is sure to make gossip rounds fairly quickly. If it does work, Bondle will be hailed as a hero and savior of this system.” She packed away the regenerator and tossed the bandage in a disintegrator. “As would the people who fought to get him here.”

  The doctor was leaning against a cabinet, but Lenore wouldn’t meet her gaze. She was determined not to give away any more information than she already had. Searching for a change of subject, she patted the bed.

  “Our medbed came with the ship so it’s over forty years old. What are this one's capabilities?”

  “It can diagnose faster than any earlier medbed design and perform a wide variety of functions. All the way from sealing a wound to minor surgeries.” Dr. Dena’s tone was full of pride.

  “Surgery? How complicated can it get?” asked Lenore.

  “Well, it can perform simple operations like an appendectomy or repairing a slight tear in a damaged organ. It can’t perform heart surgery or any kind of serious alterations in the body. And it can’t diagnose anything that isn’t in its program. It’s not up to the artificial intelligence level yet.” She grinned. “I guess there will always be a need for us doctors.”

  “How much to purchase one like this?”

  “Probably as expensive as your ship. Well, I don’t know about your ship, but I do know that offworld sales of these beds account for all of our current research revenue.”

  “Maybe I should buy a regenerator instead,” said Lenore with a light laugh.

  “Maybe you should.” Dr Dena tapped a few keys on the control board. “Fifteen more minutes. Pain tolerable?”

  “Yes.”

  The device attached to the lab coat gave a soft chirp.

  “Excuse me, Chief?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You are needed in five two three stat.”

  “On my way.” Dr Dena turned back to Lenore and Allison. “Excuse me for a moment. I will be back shortly.” She shook a finger. “Don’t move that arm.”

  After she left, Allison turned to her mother. “Chief?”

  “Apparently we warrant more than simply a doctor.” Lenore made light of it but her tightening gut wasn’t only due to pain. Why were they being given such special treatment? Bondle was the important figure here. They just delivered the cargo. Granted it was very important cargo, but it still felt uncomfortable. And talk of being hailed as a hero was even more unnerving.

  Chapter Forty-three

  Diarmin and Quinn had finished the patch job of the breach on the outside and were moving everything back to its place in the cargo bay.

  “It’s a good thing the other cabin doors were closed or all of your little inventions might have been sucked into space,” said Quinn as he dropped another box of items on the workbench.

  “Closed doors will be standard procedure from now on, I think,” said Diarmin. “Maybe installing a few automatic bulkheads as well.”

  Both turned at footsteps on the ramp and saw Lenore and Allison.

  “Why do you still have that on your arm?” asked Quinn. “I thought they were going to fix it.”

  “Apparently newly healed bones are fragile and will take twenty-four hours to set fully,” said Lenore.

  “That’s better than six weeks,” said Diarmin.

  “Absolutely.” Lenore hit the button to close the ramp. “How are the repairs going? Is the ship space worthy?”

  “Barely. The admiral returned shortly after and offered us use of a ship repair facility up at the station. I was only waiting for you to get back to head up there.” Diarmin brushed the dust of his equipment off his hands and held up a small metal globe that began to hum.

  At Lenore’s raised eyebrow, he explained. “It’s a scanner for any plague particles. If any are found, this little wonder device will activate a sterilization field.”

  After only a minute, the globe gave a pleasant chirp and the red light turned green.

  “All clear,” said Diarmin. He turned off the personal force field and started for the bridge.

  The rest of the family followed, the ladders only slightly awkward for Lenore. As they took their seats, Lenore spoke as she readjusted her board. “Maybe we should leave and repair the ship somewhere else.”

  “I was thinking the same thing but there are two problems with that,” said Diarmin. “First, I wouldn’t trust that patch job to hold u
p through transwarp transitions. Second,” he pointed at Quinn, “our son pointed out that we didn’t get paid yet.” He grinned so nobody would think he was criticizing.

  “I think we should consider leaving anyway.”

  Three heads swiveled to look at Lenore whose eyes were firmly on her console, as if she didn’t want to face her family.

  “You think it’s still dangerous?” asked Allison.

  Now she looked up. “Possibly.”

  “I think we have at least a short window,” said Diarmin. “Let’s get up to the station and get the ship fixed as soon as possible.” He started inputting commands. “We will contact Bondle or whoever to get our money while I am fixing it.”

  Lenore looked back down and nodded.

  It took only a few moments to get clearance to lift off and soon they were headed toward the coordinates for the correct berth on the station. As they approached, Diarmin noticed several official looking ships going in and out of the bay that he was supposed to land at. He double-checked the directions, saw they were correct, so opened a channel.

  “Welcome,” said the pleasant voice over the comm. “Admiral Frisson told us to expect you. Is all of your crew aboard?”

  “Yes,” said Diarmin, hesitating at the question, fingers hovering over the keyboard just in case something wasn’t quite right.

  “Since you were on the planet, you must take your ship through decontamination. The portal to your left is the decon chamber. If you bring your vessel into the bay through that, it will suffice. As long as nobody on board is isolated or in a spacesuit.”

  “Acknowledged,” said Diarmin and flew the ship toward the portal irising open. It was large enough for ships three times the size of their yacht. As he entered, a red light pulsed in front and he stopped the forward movement. The door closed behind them and Diarmin heard the slight intake of breath from Lenore.

  “Is this okay?” asked Quinn. “Do I need to close my eyes or anything?”

  “Mom and I did this already,” said Allison, with a little smug smile at Quinn. “We are fine.”

  Lenore hid a smile. Being the youngest, Allison didn’t get the chance very often to experience something before Quinn. She patted her son on the shoulder. “I’m sure a planet that has been dealing with plague for so long has developed a completely safe procedure,” she said. “They would have warned us if we needed to do anything.”

  A soft glow lit the viewscreen. A warm yellow light filled the chamber and somehow made it through the ship and was gone in less than a minute. The red light in front changed to green and an opening opposite of the one they had come through opened.

  Diarmin continued through it and was surprised at the size of the bay. It must take up more than half of the station and was filled with ships and shuttles, all with the military markings.

  “This must be the main hub for their sentry fleet,” said Quinn. “Is that good or bad?”

  “It seems to me that Admiral Frisson is not taking any chances,” said Diarmin, more to Lenore than to Quinn. “I have a suspicion that he has already thoroughly checked out and approved the rest of the personnel so there won’t be a repeat of hijacked ships.”

  Lenore said nothing so Diarmin concentrated on landing the ship where directed. It was a scaffolding, set up to accommodate their ship’s frame perfectly. Men were standing behind it, evidently trusting the landing skills and the sturdiness of the frame which had to have been put together within the past hour. So not only was this large bay designed to repair ships, it was completely pressurized. This planet definitely had resources.

  As Diarmin powered down the ship, a bleep indicated a message. Figuring it was the man in charge of the bay, Diarmin put it on the viewscreen.

  “Ah, hello! Good to see you all again.” Ven Bondle was standing in what looked like a laboratory, the admiral next to him. Everybody barely got a quick ‘hello’ back before he kept right on talking. “I tried to get in touch with you before you took off, but I wasn’t in time. Then Uncle Dom, um, er, Admiral Frisson, said I should wait until you docked so as not to distract you.”

  Diarmin heard a chuckle from one of his children but their faces remained polite.

  “I wanted to tell you that eighty-one percent of the samples were still viable and the ones I have already purposed are showing signs of fighting the disease. Another couple of hours will confirm it, but I wanted you to know that this medicine is a success. We will soon be rid of this plague forever.” The man’s face was pink with excitement and the smile on his face was the widest they had ever seen on him. “I have told everyone the brave story of how you rescued me and went after the pirates. If it weren’t for you, this success wouldn’t have been possible. All of your heroic efforts have paid off!”

  “And speaking of paid,” the admiral broke in, patting Bondle on the arm as if he were calming down a child, “I have the rest of your payment here.” He held up a flimsy. “Plus a small bonus, for your ‘heroic efforts.’” He smiled at Bondle. “In addition, my personal repair crew will assist you in getting your ship back to top condition.”

  “Admiral, that won’t be nece—” Lenore began.

  “Nonsense. You are all heroes and we are happy to do this free of charge.” The admiral tipped his head. “And I said it was my personal, extremely trustworthy repair crew.”

  As Diarmin had thought, Frisson was determined not to have another incident.

  “Thank you, Admiral,” said Lenore. “We would still like to have someone from our crew supervising.”

  “I wouldn’t have expected anything less. Crew Chief Savoh will help with anything you need. I will be there soon with your payment.”

  Bondle waved enthusiastically as the admiral signed off.

  “A bonus?” said Quinn. “Well, that’s a first.”

  ***

  The crew chief proved to be extremely intelligent and proficient. He had already walked around the ship and saw the external damage so by the time they disembarked to meet him, he knew where to start.

  “Also, this is Lieutenant Griffiths,” said Chief Savoh, indicating a woman behind him. “If any of your crew wishes to visit the station, she will be happy to show you around.”

  Lenore eyed the woman. With a blaster on her hip, the well-muscled woman gave a salute and Lenore knew she was more bodyguard than tour guide.

  “Thank you, Chief, but we will probably stay aboard the ship,” she said.

  “Very well. Let’s get started.”

  Despite the whirlwind of activity, Lenore started to yawn less than an hour into the repairs.

  “Surely this isn’t boring,” said Diarmin when he stopped briefly for a drink.

  “No. The doctor said part of the healing would be extreme fatigue and the meds are wearing off.” She gave a weak smile to Diarmin. “No more stimulants or painkillers and my arm aches abominably. Could be worse though.”

  “Why don’t you take a nap? This will take several hours anyway.”

  “I should help you supervise. There’s so much going on, I won’t be able to sleep anyway.”

  “Then just rest for a short while, maybe take another painkiller. I’ve got things covered here and I can tell the kids what to watch out for.”

  Lenore was about to protest further but another giant yawn decided her.

  “You win. Just for a little bit.”

  ***

  Lenore had only intended to relax for a short while, but her body had other ideas. When she awoke, she noticed the pain in her arm was considerably less and her head was clearer than it had been since her concussion. A glance at the chronometer showed she’d been asleep for nearly six hours. She swung her feet to the floor and the stiffness told her that she hadn’t moved at all. Reluctantly she admitted to herself that she had really needed the sleep.

  She changed out of her shipsuit that she had worn for days, promised herself a good shower when the cast was off, and dressed in a short-sleeved shirt and comfortable slacks. Pulling her hair back into a p
onytail was impossible with one hand so she gave it a couple swipes with a brush. She opened the cabin door, smiling at the hand-made 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Sometimes she felt her family coddled her too much, but she appreciated the rest. As she stepped into the lounge, her mouth fell open in surprise at the change.

  “Mom! You’re awake.” Allison came bounding over, all smiles. “Wait until you see the ship. First, we got all new food. Good stuff, too, not those hoity-toity meals from our last, um resupply.” As there was a young uniformed man stocking shelves in the galley, Lenore understood Allison’s careful wording.

  “It’s so clean,” said Lenore.

  “Yeah, they sent a cleaning crew right after they finished patching the hull. I don’t think our ship has ever been cleaner.”

  “The admiral insists on an immaculate ship so that’s our standard,” said the young man with a grin. He had finished stocking and was wheeling a cart out the door. “Have a good day, ladies.”

  “Are the repairs finished?” she asked Allison and turned to follow the young man out to check on that progress but Diarmin came through the door, Quinn on his heels.

  “They are putting the final touches on everything and shouldn’t be long now. Why don’t we all get a quick snack while we fill in the sleepyhead on what has happened.” His relaxed, cheerful demeanor was nice to see but Lenore was still nervous.

  She was about to protest that they needed to oversee everything so they could leave as soon as possible, but her stomach rumbled loudly.

  “I guess the ship is restocked so I should replenish my own resources,” she joked.

  “You guys sit. Alli and I will whip something up,” said Quinn.

  “Okay where do I start?” said Diarmin.

  “The repairs. Are we space worthy yet and did they do as good a job as the cleaning crew?”

  “Not only are we space worthy again, but they restocked our weapons with the latest concussion missiles. Their yield-to-weight ratio is improved significantly so we now have double the complement of missiles.”