Amish Vampires in Space (22 page)

James nodded again. “I will inform the others. May your efforts be fruitful.”

Sarah looked Jebediah’s direction again. Tried to contain her smile. “They will be.”

Greels was relieved when he heard the last
ship had arrived. It was madness, really, this idea of moving an entire group of reclusive people, a collection of farmers and sheep-huggers, in an interstellar delivery ship. Ridiculous. Way above his pay grade. Way outside union rules.

There would doubtless be discussions at the next chapter meeting. Complaints. Undue stress from long hours and bad smells. Some had even tried Tingle suits to shield themselves. To no avail.

But now that the folks were all onboard, his work was nearly over. He was the
loading
supervisor. They had the ship loaded. So his work was done. He could get back to other tasks. More important tasks. In fact, if Captain Drake hadn’t told him to meet him at the Bay 17 overlook, he would be onto his more important tasks already. He needed some comfort. Some beauty in his world of blue and grey.

Though he was on his way to Bay 17, Greels could gaze longingly down on Bay 16 from here. He was on the blue slideway just before the changeover to the other side of the ship. The lights in the bay below were dim, low level as they should be. And her package wasn’t easily viewable—thankfully—from this perspective. He still could pick out where her package was, though. He didn’t need a ceiling light pointed directly on it. He could sense it, imagine the feel of the package wrapper. The hissing sound it made when pried open. The shine of the viewing window.

There was nothing wrong with noticing those things, was there? He was a details guy. Part of the job. He noticed things.

Greels frowned, stepped off at the changeover, and then rode the shorter “green” slide to the opposite side. From there he entered the red slide. Less than a minute later he was approaching the step off for the inspection overlook. The slide slowed, he got off, and after a few short turns, he was in the overlook. It was a narrow room, with railing on one side and a wall on the other. There was only enough standing room for maybe three people.

The captain was already there. He studied Greels a long moment before giving him a muted smile. “You’re late, loading supervisor.”

Greels bowed his head, made a motion with a hand. “I’ve been busy.” He pointed at the bay. “Well, you know.”

The captain’s expression didn’t change. “I’ve been here almost an hour. Didn’t see you down there at all.”

Greels almost sneered, but he contained himself. If the captain only knew how tired he was. How out of it. “I’m loading supervisor of the whole ship. And of this entire pickup. This crazy, unrepresented pickup.” He gazed down at the bay. There were hundreds of black-suited farmers down there now. Isolationists. Moralists. And their wives…daughters…all in their bland dresses and bonnets. Hiding out. Hiding their distinctness. Their indiscretions.

“You mean
unprecedented
, I think,” Seal said. “And it is that.” He frowned, looked down at the bay. “It appears your team is ready, though. I’ll give you that.” A nod. “Good work.”

Dang straight, good work. Greels nodded. “Thank you, sir. We try.”

“I want your team to stay loose, though,” Seal said. “I’ve been looking at the ledgers. Some of the variables are hard to factor. Not sure what will be required in the way of general supplies. Plus, there’s the medical staff—”

Greels got a flash image of Congi’s room. Of the mess, and those eyes. Staring. Just watching without watching. And the smells. The feeling that something wasn’t right. He wondered what that Darly woman had found. Had he warned her enough? That man was sick! “Yeah, the medical staff. We can’t really help with that, Captain. Union rules.”

Seal shook his head. “There’s a clause that says ‘emergency allocation.’ It is in everyone’s contract.”

Greels sniffed. “These people aren’t an emergency. Just a bunch of—”

“Who defines an emergency?”

“I don’t know… I’d have to check my manuals.”

“Let me save you the effort.”

Greels raised his hands. “Fine. I’m assuming you do. Remember, we have days of travel yet. And a ship full of packages to unload.”

Seal straightened. Squinted. “Are you threatening me, Loading Supervisor?”

Greels felt a wave of fatigue and reached out to grip the forward rail. “No, Captain, I’m not. Just trying to keep the peace.” He pushed a smile. “Everyone in loading isn’t as agreeable as me.”

Seal chuckled. “I suppose they aren’t.” He smoothed the chest of his regulation captain’s coat. Crossed his arms. “I’ll try to keep requests as standard as possible, but I want you to know where we’re at. As you said, this is unprecedented.”

Greels nodded. Stared at the bay again. He tried not to think of that other bay. Of the woman they kept on ice. While
these
people filled an entire bay.

Greels surveyed the temporary dividers his crew had constructed. The hygienic facilities. Probably better than what the Amish had had on the planet they’d left, and certainly better than what they’d have on the planet they were going to. He shook his head again and started to pick out the non-Amish on the floor. A couple of his best men and women were down there, all easily recognizable because of the dress codes on both sides.

Black and blue. Who would’ve thought?

“You’ve been hard to reach,” Seal said.

Greels noticed something else on the floor.
Someone
else. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Like I mentioned before. Been busy. Real busy.”

“I gathered. Regardless, I wanted to know if you had anything for me. Any processes I might put in place? Any files you need moved along? Anything to make things easier?”

Greels watched the person circle the periphery of the bay. He seemed smaller, thinner, but there was no mistaking the swagger. Some people just had a distinctive walk, and he’d seen this one enough to know. Except it couldn’t be. No way was it possible.

“Anything?”

Greels looked at the captain, tried to hide his feelings. “No, nothing …” He couldn’t keep his eyes away. He had to check again. It was a fair distance and the person’s face was difficult to see. He kept walking perpendicular to Greels’s line of sight. Or behind someone. Then finally, the person turned around and looked straight toward the overlook. Smiled.

Greels shook his head. “Congi. No way.”

“The maintenance guy?” The captain leaned over the rail, looked down. “Yeah, I see him. Looks like he’s slimmed down.

“Slimmed down? He shouldn’t even be here.”

“This isn’t his assigned area?”

“No, it is his assigned area. I… That guy is sick!”

“Maybe he got over it?”

Greels pushed away from the railing. “Not what I saw. Not like that.” He needed to talk to Darly. See what had happened. What she’d done. “Listen, I need to check on something. Do you need me here?”

Seal looked puzzled. “No…I guess not.”

Greels nodded, made for the door. “Good.”

• • •

Greels stormed into the medical office.

The first person he encountered was a nurse seated at a small white desk. She might have been sixty years of age, though she appeared younger. Her hair was red and it was woven tightly around her head. She wore the standard Guild nurse’s gear: a lighter blue shirt and pants. A small Guild “bird” emblem was present on the right side of her shirt, while the universal wings and snake-crossing symbol was on the left above her name tag, which read “Nora.”

To the left of the desk and through a door, Greels knew, were the examination rooms. To the right was a small waiting room. Already a few Amish were seated there: a man, two women, and a young child. All heads were covered.

Greels scowled.

“Can I help you?” Nora asked.

The entire medical facility was small. Tiny, when compared to the size of the larger storage bays. But it was functional enough. Rarely any backlog. Especially during the travel portions of the delivery cycle.

But with the Amish here… “I’m looking for Darly,” Greels said.

Nora placed her hands flat on the desk. “She’s with a patient right now. If you want to have a seat—”

Greels shook his head. “I’m the loading supervisor. I need to talk with her right away.” He noticed Nora had a chart of some kind displayed on her desk. Probably a medical report on one of the Amish. The chart looked plenty full. Lots of preventable conditions, he guessed.

“The screenings are private, sir.” A hand swipe banished the chart from her desk. It was replaced by a large white medical symbol.

“I understand that.” He glanced in the direction of the waiting area. All eyes were on him. Judgmental. “I need to speak to her for only a minute. It is important.”

The nurse shifted in her seat. “I’m not supposed to leave this desk. It is against—”

Greels ran a hand through his hair. Felt his temperature rise. “Just go get her, Nora. I’m sure the Amish won’t steal your desk while you’re gone.”

“But—”

Greels scowled. “Did I mention I’m the loading supervisor? You have packages on this ship? Belongings you want moved?”

She did a little hop, lowered her eyebrows, but finally rose from her seat. “I’ll tell her you threatened me.”

He sniffed. “Tell her whatever you want.”

Nora hurried into the examination area. Closed the door behind her. Greels was left, feeling agitated, with only the Amish for company. He tried to avoid looking at them, studying instead the live areas of the walls that showed artwork. There was one such area behind the desk. It had the picture of a smiling doctor—signified by a white coat—scanning a seated patient in a green robe. The patient was smiling too.

Not very realistic.

The wall in the waiting area was on a three-image cycle. One picture featured a sunset on a planet with lots of forests and a sky that was predominately purple. The next showed city lights at night, probably in one of the near-Earth colonies. The last was a close-up of a blend beast: Part tiger, part camel. A made-to-order predator for a desert planet. A splicer plaything.

The young Amish girl watched that picture with wide eyes. Whispered to her mother. Her mother just shook her head.

“It’s called a blend,” Greels said aloud. “Never seen one before?”

The mother and daughter turned to look at him, eyes wide. They said nothing, though.

Greels just shook his head.

The door to the examination rooms opened. The nurse and Darly came out, both looking annoyed. Greels didn’t care how they felt. They both annoyed
him
, and nobody cared about that.

“I’m with a real patient, Mr. Greels,” Darly said. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what happened,” he said. “What you did.”

Darly pursed her lips. Frowned. “What I did when?”

Was she dense? “At Congi’s!” he said. “You know what I mean! He was—”

Darly shushed him, glanced at the waiting area, and shot him a look. She then directed him back closer to the entrance. “We don’t discuss patient’s conditions in public,” she said in a lowered voice. “Whether they are real or imagined.”

“Imagined?” Greels tried to lower his voice, as well, but it was difficult. “I didn’t imagine what I saw. That guy was…” He raised his hands. “Did you see his eyes?”

“Of course I saw his eyes, Mr. Greels.”

“And the mess in that place, you had to see that.”

Darly shook her head. “I saw no mess whatsoever.”

“No mess. Where did—”

Darly held up a hand. “Mr. Congi appeared fine. He was clean, in fact. Said he was getting ready for work.” She forced a smile. “I thought you’d be happy with that.”

“Happy?” A scowl. “I
know
he’s at work. I just saw him. I can’t believe I saw him.”

Darly brought a hand to her hip and took out her med scanner. Held it up to his chest. Stared at the screen.

Greels took a step back. “What are you doing, woman?”

Darly raised an eyebrow. “Woman?”

He frowned. “Yeah, yeah, I mean ‘doctor.’” He indicated the scanner. “I think you should be using that thing on yourself if you didn’t see what I saw. I didn’t hallucinate. I’m not crazy.”

Darly squinted at her scanner. “It is too soon to tell on that. However, you are showing signs of severe stress.” Her eyes moved rapidly as she read. ‘Fatigue, dehydration…something else. Iron deficiency, perhaps?” She looked at him. “Probably we should get you into one of the examination rooms. Check you all over.” A glance at the waiting room. “If there weren’t people waiting, I’d—”

“Check
me
over?” Greels was heating up again. “Ridiculous.” What was happening here? How had the doctor missed everything? Had she gone to the wrong room? How had Congi even gotten up, let alone gotten cleaned up? And how had he fooled her so completely? It didn’t make sense.

Greels thought for a moment, then smiled, snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute…did he offer you something? Congi? Something to turn this around on me?”

The nurse was back at her desk, head bowed over another chart. Or perhaps a magazine.

Darly drew rigid, crossing her arms. “What are you suggesting?”