Arrival (43 page)

“That was beautiful, Will,” Jack praised.

“Thank you. I still need a lot of practice, though.”

“It has sort of a Scottish feel to it,” Jack decided.

“Not surprising,” Will agreed. “Abby likes to listen to old Scottish folk music. I’m sure it influenced the composition.” Will thought for a moment. “Perhaps, we can claim it of ‘Cetian’ origin?”

“The first ‘Cetian’ tune.” Jack smiled. “Not a bad idea, Will.”

A feeling of satisfaction swept over Will as he returned to his practice. And now, more than ever, he wanted to continue playing late into the night.

* * *

“How’s Laura?” Lynn asked as Maria entered the LRV’s wardroom.

“She’s fine. She’ll be out of commission for a while, but she’s got a good chance at a full recovery. I’m just worried about infection,” Maria said.

“What about antibiotics?” Lynn asked.

“She’s on them,” Maria assured her, “but we really don’t know if they work against infectious organisms on this world.” Maria sighed. “We’ll just have to wait and see. To be honest, I’m just as worried about the crew.”

“The crew?” Lynn’s expression changed to one of concern.

“Everyone is now carrying a gun on their hip, even Adia.”

“They’re just playing it safe, Maria,” Lynn comforted her.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s just scary to see everyone carrying weapons.”

“Well, you’d better get used to it. We’re down to seven, and I don’t intend to lose anyone else.”

“Eight,” Maria corrected.

“What?”

“There’s still eight of us left, not seven.”

“Seven,” Lynn insisted.

“Frank’s not
dead
, Lynn. He’s just gone for awhile.”

“If Frank wants to go solo on us, that’s fine. But until he returns, we’re down to seven… Six, until Laura recovers.” Lynn rose from the table without another word and headed for her berth.

Maria said nothing else to her as she left the table. She knew Lynn felt deeply betrayed by Frank’s departure, but she also knew that doing something to help Jack, if indeed he and Will were alive, was something Frank needed to do.

* * *

Day 52;

We spent most of the morning building a sort of solar oven in which to dry our meat to preserve it. The temperatures are much lower in the higher elevations, and without the makeshift oven, drying the meat would take days. It was difficult, but the first batch came out fine. We will finish the rest tomorrow.

Following the instructions in the survival guide, we spent the rest of the day cutting the creature’s hide into patterns to be assembled into coats. We will begin stitching the pieces together tomorrow morning, after getting our next batch of meat in the drying oven.

The idea of trying to survive the cold mountain winter worries me, despite Jack’s assurances that the creature’s fur will provide us with enough protection. Although he is unlikely to admit it, I suspect the approaching colder weather worries Jack as well. He is obsessed with the making of coats, as if it were a matter of life or death. I just hope the one hide will be enough.

* * *

Laura was up and about by lunchtime, growing bored lying in her tiny berthing compartment. She felt pretty good, all things considered, although there was a nagging nausea in the pit of her stomach that refused to subside no matter what she did.

With Adia’s assistance, she examined some of the tissue samples from the autopsy of the creature that had attacked her. Work, she hoped, might take her mind off her nausea.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Laura complained as she stared at the display screen. It was the fifth sample she had looked at so far, and it revealed the same puzzling phenomenon as the previous four.

“What is it?” Adia asked.

“I’m not sure. Every sample I’ve looked at shows signs of mutation.”

“Isn’t mutation of DNA common?” Adia wondered.

“Yes, but in
every
sample? The skin, the hair, the heart, the muscles… Everywhere I look, I find mutations. Some of them very small, yes, but there nonetheless.”

“What do you think would cause such widespread mutations?” Adia wondered. “Radiation?”

“I don’t think so. Radiation would destroy cells as well as mutate them. These mutations appear to have changed the creature.”

“So, it isn’t the same as its parent, assuming it had one.”

“No, I mean it has been
changed
,” Laura explained. “Whatever this thing
is
, it’s
not
the same thing it was when it was
born
.”

* * *

Day 53;

Jack finally came to the conclusion that it would take us more than a day or two to finish crafting winter apparel out of the creature’s hide. So, today we packed up camp and continued on our journey, with the hides dangling from our backs. The good news is that we have plenty of what Jack calls ‘monster jerky’. The bad news is, although flavorful, the stuff is tough as hell. I believe it is more suited to serve as boot soles than a food source. Nevertheless, our packs are stuffed with enough to get us through several weeks without having to kill any more of this world’s inhabitants.

We climbed higher into the mountains, following the natural trails formed by the converging slopes. We have seen evidence of migration trails as well, and in many cases, have been able to use such paths to our advantage.

Using the orbital scan images stored in his data pad, Jack is usually able to estimate our position with reasonable accuracy. He believes we are only a few kilometers from a large river into which many smaller tributaries flow. With luck, one of them will lead us up to the summit. At the very least, it will keep us near fresh water.

* * *

Laura knelt at the toilet bowl, hugging its cool, metal sides. She had spent much of the early morning in this same position, wishing she had taken it easy as Maria advised. She had been consumed with her work on the dead alien’s strange DNA. ‘Oscar’, the name Adia had chosen for referring to the dead creature, had provided her with a wealth of intrigue, enough to fill the careers of a dozen geneticists.

It was early, and except for Lynn, who was probably up on the flight deck going over the day’s itinerary, Laura was the only one awake. She finally managed to push herself away from the toilet and pull up to her feet, clinging to the metal rail along the wall. She stood there for a moment, her head spinning, fighting back the urge to vomit yet again.

She succeeded, and strolled clumsily over to the counter to wash her face. One look in the mirror confirmed her fear that she looked as bad as she felt.

The water on her face was cool and refreshing as she splashed it up from the basin with her hands. She ran her wet hands back across her forehead and over her messy hair. She paused a moment to look at herself in the mirror again.
When did I get this gray?
she wondered. She looked closer, leaning forward as she held out a clump of hair that seemed to have a lot of gray in it. But it wasn’t grey.
What the hell?
She looked again. The hair wasn’t gray. It was more of a blue-gray.

After an unsuccessful attempt to get her hair in order, she finally gave up and left the bathroom. Moments later, she was standing at the foot of Maria’s berth. “Maria? Are you awake?” she whispered, hoping not to wake the others.

“Huh?” Maria’s voice came from the other side of the curtain, still groggy from sleep. “What is it?”

“Maria, it’s me, Laura.” Laura looked around to be sure that no one was listening. “I don’t feel well.”

Laura stepped away from the foot of Maria’s berth, leaning against the resistance gym in the center of the compartment. Her head was still spinning, and her body felt weak.

Maria’s curtain slid open and Maria scooted out off the foot of her bunk, pulling her pants on as she stepped out.

“Jesus, Laura!” Maria exclaimed as she got her first look at her. “You look terrible!”

“Thanks,” she responded with a half-hearted smile.

“What’s wrong?” Maria asked as she put her arm around her for support while leading her off toward the med-lab.

“I don’t know. I’ve been vomiting for the last hour,” she explained, gesturing back toward the bathroom at the aft end of the compartment.

“Let’s get you to the med-lab, huh?”

* * *

“Where’s Laura?” Tony asked later that morning as he sat down for breakfast next to Adia.

“She’s in the med-lab with Maria,” Lynn explained. “She’s not feeling well.”

“Really? What’s wrong with her?”

“A little nausea, I think. Probably nothing,” she said dismissively.

“What’s for breakfast?” Mac inquired as he entered the room.

“I don’t know,” Tony responded. “Ask your girlfriend over there. She’s got the breakfast duty.”

“Oh, shit,” Mac said under his breath. “Maybe I’ll stick to bread and tea this morning.”

“I heard that!” Sara yelled from the galley. “Sit down and shut up, mister. Breakfast will be ready in a moment.”

Tony smiled. “You never learn, do you?”

Sara entered, carrying a large platter full of food. “Breakfast is served,” she announced as she set the plate down in the center of the table.

“Wow, that smells great!” Lynn exclaimed.

“Yeah, it does,” Mac admitted with astonishment. “What is it?”

“Scrambled powdered eggs with peppers and onions, fried protein strips, and bran muffins,” Sara announced proudly. “Dig in.”

“Bran muffins?” Tony asked, surprised. “Where’d you learn how to make bran muffins?”

“Laura gave me the recipe,” she admitted.

“More like, bran rocks,” Mac joked as he tapped one of the harder ones against the table. He looked up after he finished his joke, a smile spread across his face. It was met with a stern look from Sara. “But tasty!” Mac lied as he forcefully tore the muffin in half and stuffed it in his mouth. “Mmm!”

“Don’t listen to him, Sara,” Lynn told her. “This is great,” she assured her as she took a bite of eggs.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Sara promised as she sat down. “I never listen to him.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Mac agreed, still chewing the muffin.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded at full volume. Within a millisecond, the computer recognized the location signature of the alarm activation, and a synthetic, computerized voice announced the origin of the distress.

“
Emergency…med-lab
,” the voice repeated over and over.

Lynn jumped from her seat and ran out of the wardroom. The others quickly followed, their tableware clanging against their plates as they dropped what they were doing to respond to the distress call.

Lynn burst into the med-lab, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of Laura, draped unconscious across the exam table in the center of the small compartment. Maria was next to her, placing defibrillation electrode pads on Laura’s bare chest. She then turned to face the cardiac monitor. “Stand clear.” Maria glanced about to ensure no one was touching her patient, then pressed the shock button. Laura’s body twitched when the electrical energy entered her body.

Lynn gasped. “What happened?”

Tony was next to enter, with Sara and the others right behind him.

“Stand clear!” Maria ordered as she delivered another shock. She looked over her shoulder at the others assembling in the corner of the compartment, mouths agape. “Let’s go, people! She’s coded!” Maria knew everyone on board had at least basic medical training. “Tony, spike a line! Sara, drug kit! Mac, start compressions! Adia, prep me an IV site… AC, right arm!”

Everyone jumped into action, rushing to their assigned tasks, struggling to remember the procedures they had been taught back on the Daedalus.

Lynn stood against the wall by the doorway, watching in horror as her crew scrambled to help their friend.

“What happened?” Mac asked as he started chest compressions.

“I have no idea,” Maria admitted as she passed an endotracheal tube down into Laura’s mouth and between her vocal cords. “She woke me up about an hour ago, said she wasn’t feeling good.”

“Drug kit is ready, right side,” Sara reported.

Maria pulled the laryngoscope out of Laura’s mouth, dropping it next to her head. “I brought her in here and was working her up,” she continued as she inflated the cuff at the end of the tube that sealed it against the inside of Laura’s trachea. “Labs, physical, the works. Sara, ventilate her for me.”

Sara stepped over next to Maria at Laura’s head, picked up the ambubag, and attached the end of the tube. She gave it a firm squeeze, sending oxygen down the tube as Maria listened to Laura’s lungs with a stethoscope.

“Again,” Maria commanded. Sara squeezed the bag again.

“One more time.” Maria listened to Laura’s stomach to ensure the tube had not been accidently placed in her esophagus. “Tube’s good,” she announced. “Hold it tight and keep ventilating her…every third or fourth chest compression.”

”Line is ready!” Tony announced.

Maria turned her eyes to the monitor display on the wall. “Hold compressions!” The tracing was dancing up and down in a wild, irregular pattern. At the top of the monitor, it read “V-FIB”. “Stand clear.” Maria ordered. She glanced around Laura’s still body, checking that everyone was clear, before pressing the shock button again.

Laura’s body twitched again. A sick feeling shot through Mac, settling in his belly. He looked up at the monitor. It still read “V-FIB”.

“IV site is ready,” Adia reported.

Maria quickly moved over to Laura’s right side. As Mac continued chest compressions, and Sara continued ventilations, Maria expertly inserted the IV catheter into Laura’s right antecubital vein. “Secure this IV, will you, Adia?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tony, connect the IV line to the drug kit input port,” Maria instructed as she connected the other end of the tube running from the IV catheter to the output port on the drug kit. She pressed a couple buttons on the kit, causing it to beep several times in several different pitches and patterns. She glanced at the IV bag, noting that the fluid appeared to be flowing from the bag into the drug kit. She then checked that fluid was also flowing from the drug kit to her patient. “Good access,” she announced. “Administering first round of meds,” she added, touching several more buttons on the drug kit.

Lynn continued watching as the others worked in unison, following Maria’s every command without hesitation. She had been given minimal time to complete the basic first-aid course before departure, and she barely understood what was going on. But she could tell by the looks on their faces, and the increasing desperation in Maria’s voice, that it was not going well. She looked down at Laura’s pale face as Mac continued to compress her chest in a rhythmic fashion. Laura appeared so lifeless, without emotion or expression. Laura was the most animated woman she had ever met, but now her face looked as if it were carved from stone.