by Aaron Bunce
“Do you see this red mass right here,” he said, circling an area with his finger. The tablet drew a line around the area, the screen automatically zooming in. “This is a foreign mass. It is growing on the portion of your brain we call the hypothalamus, but you can clearly see what we call ‘fingers’ connecting the mass to your amygdala, hippocampus, as well as the limbic lobe. These regions constitute the oldest part of your brain, and what is sometimes referred to as the ‘animal’ brain. This mass, err, tumor, could explain why you were experiencing such wild swings in heart rate, blood pressure, and in my opinion, resulted in your confusing test results. I looked back on your file and am confident that it was the reason for your blackout on the processing floor the other day.”
“I have a…brain tumor?” Jacoby asked, the fog in his mind lifting for a moment. The haze was gone, but the news brought about a whole new wave of confusion. How could he have a brain tumor?
“Yes. I’m sorry, but there is no easy way to break this kind of news. The good news is, I believe we can treat–”
“Excuse me!” Doctor Misra’s voice cut in. She swept in from a side room, a group of people in white lab coats right behind her. Jacoby blinked to clear his vision but could see enough to tell that the short woman was angry.
“Why was this patient moved without my consent?” Reeds asked as the other group approached. Doctor Misra stopped a few feet away and immediately pointed at Lex.
“I already told you, Mr. Reed. We apprised you in an e-memo that we were taking over care of these patients. They are no longer your concern. I suggest you return to the clinic and take…her with you.”
“What do you mean, ‘take her with you’?” Lex spat, her voice rising quickly, “I’m with station security. I am following my…”
“Layla, my name is ‘Reeds’ as I’ve told you countless times. As in the plural and not the singular fibrous plant that grows next to marshes and other bodies of water. And these people were under my care. You can’t just randomly…on a whim…” Reeds cut in, talking over Lex. He stepped up to tower of Doctor Misra, a clamor of voices immediately rising into an angry storm of sound.
Jacoby tried to sit up, tried to clear his head. The mass of voices hit him like a blanket, the woven fibers too intertwined to pull apart. He pulled on his hands, fighting to pull at least a hand free.
“We’re using a Palmer Module to administer carefully constructed cocktails of pain management drugs, along with sonic and magnetic signals, in conjunction with electrical impulses to keep his vitals under control so we can stabilize his condition,” Doctor Misra argued, and slapped a tablet against his chest. “It is all in his chart. You could read it for yourself.”
“He needs to be prepped for transportation back to earth for treatment, not doped into a coma. I don’t understand what you are doing down here. These people were receiving appropriate care in the hospital block.”
“You have the clinic to worry about, Doctor, and plenty of station personnel suffering through colds, or worse, a scrape or bruise–” Doctor Misra snapped, her tone sharp.
“This is not right…not right at all. These people are under my care,” Doctor Reeds cut her off. Red crept over his cheeks as his normally passive, almost mousy demeanor blew away.
“I am chief science officer on this station, which also makes me the senior and lead medical director. I report directly to the Station Directorate.”
“You said you are treating him with triggered electrical impulses? And what kind of ‘cocktail’ is needed in their situation? From the look of him you’re using large quantities of narcotic pain killers…” Reeds said, looking from Doctor Misra to Jacoby, and back to the group in white coats.
“Our treatment protocol is in line with current medical practices…”
“Current medical practices? Since when has electroshock therapy been used to treat brain tumors? This man has an aggressive case of what looks like Medulloblastoma. It has already metastasized and is in risk of causing long-term damage to cognitive function, that is, if it doesn’t kill him first.”
“That is the very reason why they are here and not still in your hospital, Doctor. Our concerns extend beyond the simple and easily detected medical conditions you noted. Now, I am telling you…leave my laboratory.” Doctor Misra bit off the end of each word, her anger making her seem larger and more intimidating.
“Am I dying?” Jacoby asked.
“I see you’ve updated his records from my initial exam, but I don’t see that you have him on any anticancer meds, just insane amounts of sedatives. This is wrong! He needs to receive an intravenous infusion of ILH-thirty-one to keep the tumor from growing and immediately put into cryo, so he can be transported back home – Earth, or the Lunar colonies at the very least. And these people. Why were they removed from the hospital block? They have exhibited far more serious responses to the flu outbreak and need our…
Cryo? Tumor? Growth? No! What a fool! Do not listen to him. It…is…me. It has always been me! I am keeping you alive. Don’t listen to him, you are not dying. If anything, you are becoming stronger, the voice appeared suddenly, the pressure mounting in his mind. But as quickly as it appeared, a sharp snap burned at his temples and his thoughts scattered.
“Is it normal for him to twitch like that?” Lex asked, interrupting the two doctors. Jacoby had to work to uncross his eyes and looked up to find Lex staring down at him, her expression a mix of shock and horror. Jacoby shook, the impulse hitting his brain hard. The bed shook beneath him.
“Please…take it…off,” he groaned, nodding his head at the Palmer device.
“My god, is he seizing?” Reeds turned and pressed his face up against the plastic.
“You are obviously unable to look beyond the most obvious and basic, Mr. Reed. If you were, you might have seen the existence of chemoblastoma triggered behavior modification. I deduced as much based off your notes and securities reports from his seemingly random swings in mood and behavior. If you had my knowledge and expertise with brain chemistry, you might have seen it. Analysis will tell us if it is the tumor at work, or this man suffers from some underlying and potentially undiagnosed psychological disorder. Now I don’t have time to sit here and explain this all to you, I have work to do. You are both interrupting our work here and disturbing our patients. Mr. Reed, leave. Officer, I am ordering you to remove this man from my labs if he does not leave immediately. I want his access revoked.”
“Hey, now, wait a minute,” Lex said, lifting her gaze from Jacoby, to Reeds, and finally to Doctor Misra. “I’m not removing anyone from anywhere until I check with my superiors. I just came here to do a post incident interview with this guy here. I had to walk all the way to the clinic, and then down here. This whole thing doesn’t feel right,” Lex lifted a glowing data point, but her eyes remained on Jacoby.
More individuals in white coats appeared through a side door, followed by several more in strange, pressurized suits. Jacoby struggled, fighting to tear his arms free from the restraints. He was looking at Doctor Reeds, and then Lex’s dark, silent form one moment, and then he was staring past them in the next.
“Damn, I can’t connect. This dump…half the station is without power and the network is dropping out every other minute,” Lex grumbled, moving around Jacoby’s clear tent and holding her data point out before her, as if searching for a signal.
“I don’t know what your game is, but this man is my patient! And why is he in a quarantine tent? He tested negative on virus scans? And…and these people. They tested positive for the virus, but they’ve already begun treatment,” Reeds shot back, his voice rising to match the other doctor.
“No! This is out of your hands now! It is simple. You’re done. Done!” Misra snapped back.
“Officer! Remove Reed from here at once. Do it, or I will make sure that both of you are on the next freighter out of here and never make it off world again!”
Jacoby wrenched his head to the side, the clear wires pulling tight
on his scalp. If only he could…another sharp stab bit his temple. If only he could pull the wires loose.
He caught sight of a person half a dozen beds down. They were sitting up, motionless, but his vision was still blurry, his thoughts jumbled. The person sat on their bed, their back heavily stooped, but they were looking right at him. Jacoby tried to look away, but there was something about them – about their posture, their complexion, that was all wrong. But…damn the blur. He couldn’t really make them out.
Break…free, the voice echoed distantly in his mind.
I…can’t, he thought, only to have his temples throb again and his thoughts scatter. He yanked on his hands and fought against the straps. The nylon stretched, the muscles in his forearm knotting up.
The other patient down the line of beds tumbled from their bed, the sudden movement catching in Jacoby’s peripheral vision. They didn’t seem to make any noise. Reeds pushed a young man in a lab coat aside as they surrounded him and tried to shove him towards the door. Misra yelled, grabbed another man by the lab coat and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. Nurses and other staff were creeping in now, evidently drawn by the raised voices.
“You need to step back and let go of him. I can’t get ahold of anyone to confirm what either of you is saying,” Lex said, moving in and shoving the man away from Reeds. The young man cursed and rounded on her, his coat pulled askew.
“Don’t, unless you want to know what the floor tastes like,” Lex growled, a flip of her wrist effectively extending her stun baton. The end blinked green and then red, an angry spark lancing into the air.
The young man returned Lex’s glare, but his eyes darted down to the stun baton, and he backed away a large step.
“Excuse me?” Jacoby said, trying to get Misra’s attention.
“Doctor Reeds, I am operating under the direct authority of this station’s directorate.
“Now you get my name right!” Reeds snapped back. “When has station administration ever taken an interest in medical matters? They have always allowed me see to personnel’s medical wellbeing…”
Jacoby’s attention was fleeting as a cold fog drifted up his arm.
The patient clawed at the plastic tent, raking their fingernails against it, their mouth moving. More patients were awake now…moving…crying out, and tumbling from their beds.
“I’m following up on the fight in the clinic. My supervisor dispatched me, and since I can’t get a hold of anyone to hear differently, that’s what I’m going to do, until I hear otherwise,” Lex said, stepping towards Misra. She was easily a head and a half taller than the doctor, if not more.
He watched the patient several beds away continue to punch and claw at the plastic enclosure. Then they stopped moving, and started to talk. The nurses didn’t seem to notice, or the doctors. They were too wrapped up arguing with each other.
“Doc…doc,” Jacoby sputtered, trying to get Reeds’ attention, but they couldn’t hear him. They were too busy arguing.
“Ah! J-a-c-k! J-a-c-k…” the woman in the tent moaned loudly, her voice hoarse and muffled by the tent.
No! he, thought, blinking more rapidly. He saw it then, trapped behind a mass of gray-streaked red hair. It was Janice, the pinched, wrinkled skin around her dark eyes clarifying in his vision. Her mouth moved, and then she pitched forward in a horrible, wet cough, black liquid spattering the clear plastic.
“J–a–c–o–b–y!” Janice shrieked suddenly, and flopped sideways out of sight.
0335 Hours
The wires spilled out in a massive, tangled clump, coiling into Anna’s lap as if she’d disemboweled the door. She bit her lip hard to keep from cursing, and fought hard to concentrate as she pulled blocky connectors out of the way. A pile of cheap plastic relays tumbled out next, the wad strapped together by coils of black, electrical tape. She’d never seen such a cobbled-together, mess in her whole life.
“Hurry,” Soraya whispered, hovering just over her shoulder.
“They’re all black…I need to find the red signal wire. I don’t see it!”
Anna tried to tune out the screeching motor, the metal door rattling in its tracks, but also the hot smell tainting the air. She focused on the tangled mass in her hands, tracing the dirty wires back through the clump. She fumbled her right pocket open and found her side cutters. She cut a black wire, and the door motor slowed down, only to speed back up again.
“Shit, damn self-rerouting relays. Where is it?” she whispered and cut another wire. The hot smell intensified, smoke now drifting out of the wall to her left. The door control panel flashed a bright error code now, and worse, it was beeping as well, adding to the din.
Anna pulled a wire free, a thick layer of dust and dirt rubbing off to reveal red insulation. Yes, she thought with relief and fumbled her cutters up and snipped it in half. The door motor abruptly started to spin down, the squealing dying away. The door shuddered, and with one final, grinding rotation, the motor went silent.
Soraya leaned on her from behind, her hands trembling. They both hovered there in the dark, the small beam of light hitting the gap between the damaged door and the frame and illuminating a small crack of the hall beyond. Smoke drifted in through the weak beam of light, the sharp, caustic smell burning Anna’s eyes and nose.
She turned her head and held her breath, listening for signs of movement beyond the door, but her ears were still ringing from the motor’s horrible squeal.
That was stupid-stupid-stupid, Anna. Why didn’t you just try to pull the door open first? Now everyone in the whole habitat ring heard it! she chastised herself, leaning closer to the gap. She wasn’t a technician…just a girl pretending to understand how things worked.
Soraya squeezed her shoulders suddenly, a wave of calming energy blossoming inside. It pushed out the anger, doubt, and anxiety, washing it away like a cleansing breath of wind.
It wouldn’t have opened. Soraya squeezed her shoulder again. It’s not your fault, you’re smart enough to figure this stuff out. I trust you. One-step at a time, girl.
Anna’s scalp tingled, the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck immediately standing on end. She turned and met Soraya’s gaze. Her large, chocolate-brown eyes seemed to repeat the unspoken, but silently conveyed messages.
“One-step at a time…together,” Anna whispered, and Soraya nodded. Their connection was deepening, somehow, through some means beyond anything she knew or understood, they were communicating without words. So much so, in fact, that Anna could sense the cold biting at Soraya’s feet.
Anna turned back and wedged her fingers into the gap of the door. Soraya did the same above her. Together, without having to count out loud, they pulled. The door creaked and popped, slowly sliding open. It moved an inch, then half a foot, and then two. It froze in place a little over a third of the way open.
“I’ll go first,” Soraya whispered and gingerly squeezed her body out through the jammed door. Anna watched and waited, her heart pounding like an out of control drum.
She stood, sucked in a deep breath, held it in, and slid through the door and into the hall. Without the ambient light from exterior portholes, the hallway wasn’t just dark. It was black-dark.
Soraya waited in the middle of the hall – motionless and silent, like a hole in the darkness. Anna approached, the beam from the small light struggling to illuminate more than a few square feet ahead of her. She pressed a single finger to her lips and Anna nodded wholeheartedly.
They crept forward, slowly, deliberately. Anna swept her gaze from the ground, to the walls on either side of them as they went. She navigated them around a pile of debris – what looked like cracked ceramic and splintered polymer tiles crushed into dust.
The hall felt empty, the eerie quiet smothering even the darkness. Anna poked her head out at the intersection, confirming the passage in front of Soraya and Preston’s door was empty first.
She turned and glanced back up the passage to the next door, the one the man had exited
from. It was open, the weak light shining from within drawing the shadows. Puddles of deeper black stretched were they did not belong. A faint light flickered from inside the space, backlighting a partially open door with debris peppering the ground.
Soraya pulled on her arm, quietly turning her back down the hallway. They moved together, the darkness seemingly closing in around them. Anna scanned the ground, up the walls, and finally to the ceiling, where thick pipes and bundles of conduit disappeared into the dark.
Soraya stopped right outside her open door, and gave Anna’s hand a squeeze, and then she pointed down at her bare feet.
I just need to grab boots. She squeezed her hand again and Anna felt the chilly floor tiles beneath her feet, the ache of cold settling into her toes.
She looked back up, the small light gleaming in Soraya’s dark eyes, but turned sideways and looked into the quarters. Anna shook her head. Preston’s face floated back into her thoughts, a shudder coursing through her body as she remembered the sharp crack of bone, but more terrifying, as the skin on his face split open like a horrible, fleshy zipper. A light glowed at the end of their small entry hall, but even standing in the darkness it didn’t look or feel inviting.
She shook her head and tried to pull Soraya down the hall, but the other woman resisted.
“Just one minute and we’re gone,” Soraya mouthed, and punctuated the point by holding up a single finger.
You saw what happened to him, you heard them fighting in the hall. What if he hurt that man…killed him? He could be in there waiting for you! Anna squeezed her hand back and tried to push her thoughts forward, to change her mind, but she didn’t know if any of it got through. Hell, she didn’t know how any of it worked. How could she?
