The Captain was anxious to finish his conversation with
Commander Cline about Mara. He knew that the Chief Medical Officer was waiting
to get him alone, and he did not feel in the mood for a serious talk - or
any talk at all, for that matter. He felt sick and older than his forty-odd
years accounted for. Although he tried his best to concentrate on what his
First Officer was saying, all he wanted to do was go back to his quarters
and collapse onto his bed before the next meeting.
Cline finished his report and politely excused himself.
Relieved to realize that Laleilalii was nowhere in sight, Nouri turned to
leave. He was not so lucky as to escape sickbay; however, the ship's CMO
appeared, as she was so apt to do, seemingly out of nowhere. Nouri maintained
his outward composure, but inwardly he gasped. As much as he liked his CMO,
Laleilalii could be unsettling at times.
He knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. Inwardly,
he groaned, but he smiled as he said, "Yes?"
The CMO grimaced and shifted her feet. She hated this
part of her job, and dreaded the conversation just as much as she knew the
Captain must be dreading it. "I have ... been reviewing the data I have collected
over the past few weeks. I have a prognosis and... a possible treatment.
But I will throw "bedside manner" to the wind for now, and be frank with
you: it does not look good. Would you like the specifics?" she asked.
A sudden wave of weariness washed over the Captain. Though
his heart dropped like a rock, he gave a light shrug. "I know. How long will
it be before it kills me, or I completely lose my humanity? Yes... I would
like to hear the specifics."
"I am not sure, sir. It could be weeks, or it could be
months, but it is more likely a matter of weeks. And it is also more likely
that you will die, though there is a chance that you will completely mutate.
Right now, your body is fighting a losing battle against itself. The mutation
is progressing much like a cancer - it is both insidious and invasive." Laleilalii
felt a sharp twang of pity for the Captain, but tried her best not to let
her face or voice betray it. She knew that the Captain was a proud man, and
the thought that he should be the object of pity would anger him and deeply
wound his pride. A natural empath, the Chief Medical Officer had learned
to control not only her outward physical expression of emotions, but her
emotional vibrat.
The Captain's voice was strained. "Although I like the
Galadons, don't get me wrong on this. I want to take every chance and risk
to remain human. I don't want to live as anything else." Deep inside, he
was terrified that he could become something so completely alien to him.
His entire sense of self, his outlook on life, his experiences past and future
- his identity - was quickly becoming unfamiliar to him. He could no longer
eat his favorite foods, since the mutations made him vegetarian. The smell,
or even sight, of meat made him nauseous. The irrational rage and violent
feelings he had around the Tureth from his Galadonese systems reacting to
their pheromones was barely containable. He was losing himself, bit by bit,
into a stream of events that he could not control. Most of all, he loathed
the possibility of becoming as brutal as his distant Chinese ancestors, who
had built an empire out of the blood of others. His family's characteristic
quiet restraint was compensation for a lineage that they could not and would
not forget.
He was also worried of the change that it would bring
to his life - just when it had turned around for the good. And though his
deepest fear had once been - and still was - being unable to prevent the
deaths of those he loved, now it seemed that he could not even prevent his
own. He tried to keep a grip on himself and maintain a sense of humor. "Is
this the good news or the bad news?" he asked.
Laleilalii did not even fake a chuckle. She continued
talking, as if she had not been interrupted. "The mutated tissue has taken
over ... perhaps 80 percent of your body. I am amazed you are even able to
function, sir, though perhaps my efforts to simply make you seem more human
may have helped. The hormones that I give you slowed the progression of the
mutation. I can continue treating you with hormones, and perhaps slow it
even more. I will have to be careful to watch for adverse reactions and effects,
though."
Nouri listened quietly. Though the Captain was stoic,
Laleilalii knew that he was shaken. She tried to offer him a bit of hope.
"I contacted your Grandmother. According to the Chief Engineer, Pangloss
had deleted your first message to her."
The Captain nodded. "So that's what happened. I wondered
what was taking her so long to respond."
"In any case," the CMO continued, "She gave me advice
on a possible course of treatment to pursue and," her voice softened, "expressed
her concerns for your welfare."
Nouri did not comment. His grandmother, Dr. Woo, had lost
her daughter to the Klingons and now was losing her grandson to this mutation.
He knew this had to be killing her inside, especially since Nouri represented
the end of the family line.
"At first, I will remove small portions of mutated tissue
from your body, and stimulate the growth of your native tissues. This will
be combined with brief bursts of chemicals designed to target and kill the
mutated cells. Galadonese cells are far more susceptible to some toxins than
human cells are. Eventually, I will have to perform major surgery, possibly
removing and replacing entire organs. This will be combined with genetic
therapy--"
The Captain stiffened and asked, "Like the kind Pangloss
did?"
Laleilalii grimaced. "Yes, but - this time, to save your
life. Although there is a good chance that the treatment will fail, and a
good possibility that it will kill you. Even if it does not, it will be a
long and painful process, and you will recover slowly. You may never fully
recover, and may have to rely upon devices to maintain your bodily functions.
A pacemaker, or dialysis," she finished.
The Captain stiffened again. A few years back by Federation
time, he was seriously injured -- almost dead -- after the transport shuttle
he was taking to his next assignment had a mysterious accident. He had risked
his life to save others then but could he not save them all, nor could he
save his own wife. Nouri was nearly dead when he was rescued by a race that
lives in another time and space, the Wahnharae. They had tried their best
to heal him, but were no experts on humans. It was a long road to recovery
for him. One he cared never to walk again and here he was faced with a treatment
that would almost assuredly incapacitate him again.
"If you ask me, sir, it all sounds like bad news." Laleilalii
sighed. "I am sorry. I am being very unprofessional."
"No, you've never been unprofessional. You are a remarkable
doctor that is why I wanted you on board. I wanted only the best for my crew.
Your work on the Mariaran flu was very impressive," Captain Kematsopoulos
said.
"It wasn't, sir ... not really... I just did what needed
to be done. It was a team effort to contain the Flu. And so many people still
died before we found the cure...A quarter of my planet's population.
Luckily, others were not so hard hit," she said.
"You were an important part of the team. I know that.
Without you, I doubt the cure would have been discovered until much later.
Your talents, skill, knowledge, and tenacity made a big difference," he explained.
"It was the swift action of an entire galaxy of
doctors who really made the difference. What angers me is that it could
have been prevented! If Mararia V had enforced their fishing regulations
and properly inspected their exports. The contaminated shrimp would never
have left that planet. Instead, millions of people died for corporate greed,"
she lamented.
"I'm glad we at least developed a vaccine. I can hope
that the immunization programs we set up will prevent anyone from contracting
Mararian Flu again," she says.
"My grandmother told me those programs are excellent,
a real model for the rest of the galaxy. Many reasons to have wanted you
on board here and as you know I had to pull a few strings to get you here,"
he confided.
"I'm glad that you did. It was getting a bit claustrophobic
on Moebius. After the Mararian Flu scare, they hardly let anyone on or off
the planet. I was concerned that I'd might not be able to join you," she
confessed.
They fell silent. The CMO had put in another long brutal
day and so had the CO. She had been busy struggling to save lives from the
explosion and he was busy struggling just trying to live through another
day. Finally, it was the good doctor that broke the silence.
"We're both tired, sir," she said trying to excuse herself.
"Yes. Any other options?" he said looking haggard and
much older.
She shook her head and replied, "None, aside from letting
the mutation progress, and your condition run its course. Perhaps we should
both sleep on it? Think about my suggestions, sir. I'm trying to do my best
for you." Laleilalii explained.
Nouri nodded and said, "I know. Not many choices."
"Good night," she said.
The Captain gave her the farewell greeting to her in native
Moebian tongue, "May the waters you swim be clear and bright."
She smiled and gave the response ,"May your breezes always
be warm..." The CMO took her notes with her and went to her quarters.
Despite the grimness of the situation, Captain Kematsopoulos
left with a small smile on his face. Things were very different on Moebius
compared to Vulcan and it was reflected in their language. One did not want
a warm breeze on Vulcan.
Nouri checked his chronometer. Too late for sleep now.
He wondered what the weather is like on Sirius South and headed to briefing
for the next Away Mission.
