Space Rescue One (7 page)

      "It's just the true Richard without the drinking to hide the monster he really is."

      Shelly exclaimed, "Richard, a monster? No, I don't buy that. It's got to be something else. I'm sure it is."

      Isaac asked, "Then what? At least he'll talk to you. Maybe you can find out what his problem is."

      "I don't know. To do that to Richard makes me feel wrong. I'd be spying on him. That can't be right."

      "It is if it helps him. I've already suggested to him that he seek professional help from a doctor. He won't follow up on that, I'm sure."

      "Maybe it's not that kind of a problem," Shelly said.

      "Maybe it's not. Until I find out differently, I still think it has to do with his drinking."

***

The bartender looked at Richard. "You're not looking any better. Still not getting enough sleep?"

      "I thought you said you forget what you hear."

      "I do. That is, as far as other people are concerned, I wouldn't know what you said. However, I wouldn't be much of a conversationalist if I didn't remember what my customers wanted to talk about, now would I?"

      "I guess not. Well, as long as you keep it to yourself, I won't get upset."

      The bartender handed Richard a glass of juice. "This one's on the house."

      "Mighty big of you," Richard replied.

      "It costs the same as liquor to bring it to the station."

      "Sorry then. That was a cheap shot I took. I guess it's the stress and lack of sleep."

      "Stress? You've got stress? Let me tell you about stress."

      "Don't. We're not talking about the same kinds of stress. Mine concerns life and death."

      "Yeah, you're right about that. There's no comparison between the kinds of stress we each face. Yours is worse. I'm amazed that you can bear up under it. I've seen men fold before under less strain than you're holding up against. I'm envious of you."

      "You don't want to be. Trust me. It's no picnic. Everyday, wondering what you're going to face when you leave the station on your next emergency call. Knowing that you're really on your own in an ocean of cold, heartless space. One tiny mistake and it's all over. If not for you, then for someone you know, perhaps even love."

      "Are you in love with someone, Richard?"

      "Did I say that?" asked Richard.

      "No, but you hinted at it. That just made me curious, so I thought I'd ask. Since you didn't do anything bad to be concerned about, I've had a suspicion that you might be having woman trouble. Doesn't she know that you're alive?"

      "I'm not sure. I tried asking her out before, but she refused any dates. I asked her why."

      "What'd she say?"

      "She didn't like going out with a drunk. Well, not a drunk, but she didn't want to go out drinking. She said she might be interested if I was sober."

      "Ah, so that's why you quit drinking. I lose more customers for that reason than you'd ever suspect."

      "She's still not interested in me," Richard stated.

      "Have you asked her out since you quit drinking?"

      "Well, uh, uh . . . You know something? I don't think I have."

      "Then you should get up right now and go talk to her. Show her that you have changed, that you can show her a good time without drinking."

      "You know what? You're right. I'm going to do just that."

***

Richard said, "Shelly, would you like to . . ."

      "Attention all personnel.
Space Rescue One
is on alert. Medical Unit One is on alert. Medical Unit Two is on alert. Medical Unit Three is on alert. Attention all personnel . . ."

     "Damn it!" Richard muttered as Shelly ran off.

***

Captain Shortner said, "Okay, here's the situation. The
Taurean Princess
has over fifty passengers down with something. They suspect food poisoning. We're going out in force to be on the safe side. We've got three medical units from the station in addition to our own. If we can't handle whatever is afflicting them, then I don't know who can. Our rescue team personnel will double as stretcher bearers and nurses. Only the most serious cases will be transferred from the cruise ship to our sick bay. We'll be meeting them tomorrow. In the meantime, coordinate your teams with each other. Make sure that everyone knows his or her job. I want this to go off smoothly."

      "Captain, I'd like a word with you after the meeting," Chief Dickson said.

      "Sure."

***

"Well, this should be an easy call," said Shelly as she headed back for the ready area.

      "Never think of any call as easy until it's over. Too much can go wrong. I know. I've seen it happen before," Richard said.

      "Yeah, well, I mean this one is mostly easy for us. The doctors are the ones who have the real work."

      "Our work is just as real. First we have to dock the ships. Then we'll spend more time with each patient than any of the doctors will. When this is over, we'll be dead on our feet. Of course, the patients will remember the doctors coming out to see them. They'll forget or not even be told of our part. You'll be lucky to see more than one person again in your lifetime whom you helped. In some cases, you won't want to meet them again. I sure don't want to meet either of those gunmen we went up against. In other cases, we really won't care if we do or not. We don't have much in common with them, so why worry about it."

      "You're so pessimistic about everything. No, not pessimistic. Jaded is more like it. I think you've lost your feelings, Richard. You don't really care about people anymore."

      "I still care about people. I'm just being a realist about how much they care about us. Anymore, it seems like the people we care for just think that we're here because they are. They're the center of the universe and we orbit them. Mark my words, you'll see that kind of attitude when we become nurses."

      "Is that so? You want to make a bet on that?" she asked.

      "Sure. What do you want to bet?" he asked.

      "How about a date with you if I lose?" Shelly asked.

      "No thanks. If I date you, it's going to be because both of us want to go out on a date. Not because one of us lost a bet. Come up with something better and we'll make the bet. Otherwise, it's not a bet."

***

"I presume it's about Technician Saber?" asked Captain Shortner.

      "Yes, it is," Chief Dickson replied.

      "You still looking to get him dismissed from the service?" Shortner asked.

      "Actually, I'm going to try a different tact. Maybe I can make an inroad this way."

      "What way?" asked Shortner.

      "I want to recommend him for a citation. For bravery. He's saved my life twice and was instrumental in saving Laumer's life once. Maybe he needs recognition to get his life back in gear."

      "That's an interesting thought. So, you think his career can be salvaged?" asked Shortner.

      "More like his life. As long as he performs his duties, his career is safe."

      "What about the drinking?"

      "Well, he's not drinking now. Not that I know of. I've checked on him," Dickson answered.

      Shortner said, "I see. All right, we'll try it this way. Put the recommendation in writing. I'll approve it when I receive it."

***

"Technician Saber, I thought I'd let you know ahead of time that I'm putting you in for a citation. You've earned one. Actually, you've earned more than one. It's my fault that you weren't put in for them when you should have been," Dickson said upon stopping at Richard's cabin.

      "I don't want any citations. Keep it and save yourself the work. That and ten credits will buy you a cup of coffee," Richard replied.

      Dickson exploded, "Why you ungrateful, arrogant . . . Richard, what's wrong with you? You don't accept thanks or praise. You're hardheaded and slow to follow orders. Your attitude stinks and you look like death warmed over. I don't understand your behavior. Do you hate me? Is it personal?"

      "I don't hate you or anyone else. I don't much care for your attitude, either, but neither of us is paid to have one, so I put up with yours. As far as being slow to follow orders, I've only done the same as any other team member. I'll grant you that I'm hardheaded, but who isn't in this profession? You have to be if you're going to survive."

      "You haven't addressed why you look so awful. Aren't you going to argue that point?"

      Richard replied, "No, you're not the only person to tell me that. I guess I'm getting old. Old people tend to look that way. You want to leave my room now?"

      "All right then, I'll get out. There's no sense in us arguing about this. Maybe you'll come to your senses later on and accept some praise and recognition. Right now all I see is us getting on each other's nerves and making it worse."

***

"So, because I wouldn't accept a citation, you put me on bedpans?" asked Richard after hearing his assignment from the Chief.

      "No, I didn't, if it's any consolation to you. In fact, I'm emptying them, too," Chief Dickson replied.

      "I thought you made these assignments."

      "If I had, I would have put you where your muscles might be better used, helping to move patients around," Isaac replied.

      "Is that so? I guess I misjudged you on this one."

      "No more than I keep missing the mark on who you really are."

      "Well, keep guessing. I'm not helping you on that one."

      "I'll figure you out. When I do, maybe it will make sense to me then. I hope so for your sake."

      "Don't do me any favors in the meantime. I don't need them," Richard said.

***

 "Hey, babe. You busy after you get off? Or would you rather get off with me?"

      "Unless you're sick, you have no business being in this section of the ship. There's a medical emergency going on, in case you haven't noticed," Laumer replied upon turning to face the man standing in the corridor as she exited a cabin.

      "All I've noticed is that you're one hot babe. Give me a chance. Meet me after you get off and we'll dance among the stars."

      "Like I said, leave this section unless you want an enema administered through your throat." Shelly watched the male passenger leave for only a few moments before turning back to her work.

***

Richard glanced at the clock, surprised to find that he technically went off duty almost an hour earlier. With that knowledge, it was no surprise to him that he was tired. Still, he felt an obligation and continued to work until he reached the last cabin with the help of the next shift. He smiled weakly before trudging out of the sick bay area as Corridor C was referred to since all the sick passengers were moved into it. Moving them made it easier for the doctors and rescue personnel to see the sick passengers without walking miles of ship corridors. It was easier to stock nearby and reach the supplies they needed most often.

      He made his way to the ship's bar even though he had no intention of ordering anything more than fruit juice as he did on the space station. About the only difference was that he found himself turning down drinks from wellmeaning passengers and constantly being engaged in conversation. In a way, the conversation was almost as good as drinking since most of the passengers were boring. Their conversation somehow managed to tire him enough that sleep felt like it might come just a bit easier than usual. Somehow, Richard felt he could keep himself going just a bit more. He knew he had to. He couldn't let the nightmares win.

***

Shelly accepted the glass of wine as she stood beside Isaac. Had he not asked her out, she would have preferred to hit the sack early.

      "Well, you must get out in space a lot in your suits. We had to buy one to take this trip. I haven't had mine on since trying it out at the store. I really thought we'd get a chance to walk in space. What's it like?"

      Shelly said, "Well, it's . . ."

      "Dearie, you must be gay or something to be out here with all these men. Are you?"

      Shelly said, "Well, . . ."

      "Have you ever screwed without gravity?"

      Shelly said, "No, I haven't . . ."

      "I've heard that they only hire gays so there won't be a pregnancy problem."

      Shelly said, "That's not . . ."

      Shelly turned to Isaac. She nodded toward the exit.

      "You go ahead. I have to stay," he said.

      "Okay, good night, Isaac. Don't let them convince you that you're gay." Shelly then made her way out of the bar. For a moment, she stopped to consider her route back to the
Space Rescue One.
It would feel good to get away from the passengers. Even the sick passengers were almost as demanding and ignorant as those in the bar.

      Richard noticed Shelly leave. He said, "Excuse me. I have to leave now," before setting down his glass to follow Shelly out of the bar. He reached the exit and glanced around outside. He didn't see her in any of the corridors. He figured that she took one and made a turn into another corridor in order to get out of sight so soon. Remembering which corridor was the shortest route to his ship, he entered it.