Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Sorta Normal


Month 9 Day 8
(Shore Leave Day 9)
0930 Hours
Bugalu

The gym was nearly empty. It might be the middle of the work week on this planet, Bugalu thought as he paused to consider the various pieces of equipment.

“Hurry up,” Tall Bear called to him.

Bugalu walked over to where Tall Bear stood with Mac. “I figured I’d just do my own workout.”

“I wouldn’t call what you do a workout,” TB returned with a poker face. “Look, Mac says she’s fine, but she seems nervous. Jumpy. So maybe if we do this as a trio, she’ll calm down.”

Now that he looked, Bugalu saw pink flags of color in Mac’s cheeks as she flexed her joints and warmed up. “You okay, Mac?”

She gave him a smile as she moved toward the largest machine. “Don’t worry, Bugsy, I know who I am. In fact, Kolla’s memories are an... add-on to mine. I can explore them, but they don’t present themselves as mine.”

“That’s good.” He watched as she adjusted the weight she intended to move around. No hesitation, no grimacing, no pausing to figure out the math. She just dialed it in, as if math isn’t an ordeal for her.

“Not that much,” TB told her. “You haven’t been working out lately.”

Now she grimaced. “Too little time, too much to do.” She dutifully lowered the weight and got into position in the machine, gave the unconcerned TB a hard look. “You ready?”

“Any time,” he responded.

She began her workout, and although she was obviously putting effort into it, she used far less effort than any non-heavy-worlder would have thought necessary for that much weight. Still, it wasn’t long before she started to slow down, and then she stopped half-way through a movement. “Help,” she muttered, and Bear stepped forward, helped her move the weights to their resting position. “Thanks,” she got out between pants. “You’re right. I haven’t been doing this enough.”

“Good of you to admit it,” Bear returned, and reached for the weight controls. Mac slammed her body backwards to put more distance between her and his hand. Bear turned to Bugalu. “See?”

“What’s wrong, Mac? It’s been a while since Bear has made you this nervous.”

“I have a theory,” she stated as she got out of the machine. “Not being a bio-chemist, I don’t know if it’s any good. When I had that allergy attack, they scanned my brain chemistry and found it significantly changed from human normal.”

“That what Doc said. That’s why everybody’s been watching you ever since.”

“Yeah, it’s creepy,” she muttered, then tossed him a bright smile as Bear got into the machine, the weight adjusted for him. “On the other hand, it’s nice people care about my state of mind.”

“Friends,” Bear rumbled as he moved the weights rhythmically. “We’re called friends.”

She gave the AmerInd a thoughtful look. “For most of my life, I wasn’t allowed to have any.”

“Don’t get side-tracked,” Bugalu suggested. “When Doc pulled up the scan from your first day on the Fireball, your brain chemistry was well within normal human parameters.”

“Right. So that’s what they worked to get my brain chemistry to. And I feel like myself again.” She hesitated half a minute. “Like I just got to the Fireball.”

“Well, that’s...” Wait. She could hardly hold herself together that first day. The panic in her eyes when I asked how she got her lieutenant’s stripe. Once I saw how she’d been treated on her previous assignments, I understood, but it took time to get her out of the mindset her father had installed. “Pa is back?” he asked quietly.

“As strong as ever,” she admitted sadly. “I hope it won’t take so long to get him quieted again. I like having friends!”

“What’s that mean, her pa is back?” Bear asked.

“Her father taught her that letting a man touch her was tantamount to letting them rape her,” Bugalu explained. Mac didn’t protest, but her face turned pink. “That’s why she was nervous.”

Bear grunted. “Then I’m glad I noticed. But, Shorty. I’m tired of getting a black eye, so stop falling asleep in public, okay?”

“Yes,” she agreed quietly, then gave him a good look. “Doesn’t look like I gave you one the other day.”

“No. But you weren’t exactly yourself.”

“Very true,” she agreed. “Between remnants of Kolla’s bio-chemistry, and those berries mucking things up, I was very much not myself.”

“Welcome back, Mac. Even if it does complicate my correcting your form if its needed.”

Bugalu saw her brows start to push together at a simple statement that ‘Pa’ might consider flirtatious. “How you holding up, Mac? Need a nap after this?”

“No!” She seemed horrified by the suggestion. “I’ve spent half this shore leave sleeping and recuperating.”

“Yeah,” Bear agreed. “Dog and I had to recuperate from that trek, too. But don’t tell her I told you.”

Mac nodded. “So the sauna, a shower, and then what?”

“I suppose you want to go shopping.”

“I did that with the girls.”

“Even your whiskey?”

“Don’t want to hear it!” Bear declared, and ended his time in the machine. He sat and took a deep breath before he got up. “Your turn, Bugsy.”

Bugalu groaned and turned to Mac. “Now you’ve got him calling me that!”

“Not her fault,” Bear told him. “Been looking for a nickname for you for years. Now, if the captain calls you that...”

Mac laughed. “I want to be there when that happens! Come on, you two, what else is there to do on shore leave?”

“Well, half of the 5th floor of the mall is a giant gaming arcade,” Bear stated. “I don’t think Xenokis would mind if you joined us this afternoon.”

“Matt and Bugs spent all their down time in the Academy arcade,” Mac stated.

“Not all of it,” Bugalu corrected. “But Matt did love Nooto.”

“That game is fun,” Bear agreed. “And this place has the latest version, so Xenokis and I are going to check it out.”

“That’s fine for me,” Bugalu stated. “But Mac doesn’t play.”

“What makes you think I don’t play?”

“You never did at the Academy.”

“Right. For 2 years, I watched you 2 play, trying strategies, tweaking plans. Finding what would work and what wouldn’t. Then you graduated. I wasn’t going home. I had 2 summers to try my hand playing against the automated version. Believe me, the better I got, the harder the computer played. Which means, Bugsy, that you haven’t got a chance.”

“You can’t turn down a challenge like that,” Bear observed, and the thing was settled.

Thursday, January 3, 2019

Freak Allergy


Month 9 Day 6
(Shore Leave Day 7)
1458 Hours
McGregor

Drake draped the damp towel around his neck as the lift door opened and he stepped into the first aid station’s lobby. Not sure where to go, he paused at the desk. “You paged me? I’m Dr McGregor, of the Fireball.”

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” the nurse answered. “I’ll take the towel, and here’s a lab coat for you.”

Drake half pulled the towel off, but paused to consider the lab coat she held out. “Lab coat?” he muttered.

“Patients respond better when the doctor is in a lab coat rather than a swimsuit.”

That makes sense.My patients are used to seeing me in a uniform, but I take your point.” He made the swap to tug the lab coat on. “Now, who is the patient, why are they here, and where are they?”

The nurse hesitated for a nanosecond. “We aren’t sure who she is; everybody seems to have their own name for her, but they claim she belongs to your ship, and her commanding officer asked for you to be notified. Respiratory distress.” She passed him a medical pad that presumably had the details. “Down the middle hallway, 3rd door on the left.”

“Thanks.” Drake consulted the pad as he started down the hallway. Female, late 20s. Okay, we’re down to about 1/3 of the crew.

“Drake!”

He looked up in surprise, saw that Beth had just emerged from the room he intended to visit. “Beth! Are you the reason I’m here? What’s wrong?”

She gave him an embarrassed smile. “I’m not the patient, no. I was coming out to see if they could cancel that page. You got here quickly, but the medicine they gave her seems very effective.” She glanced back at the room. “Even if she is acting weird.”

“Who?”

“Oh! I guess- Mac. She drank half of Bugalu’s milkshake, which was made with a native berry. Shortly afterward, I noticed she seemed disorientated, and by the time Tall Bear got her out of the water, she was mostly unconscious, struggling to breath.”

Drake hurried for the room. He stopped short in the doorway. Mac was sitting on the bed, both her arms wrapped around Smitty’s upper arm, her head against his shoulder. She was whispering. Smitty’s back was to Drake, who couldn’t understand this strange tableau.

“I can’t understand what she’s saying,” Beth whispered. “I don’t think Smythe does, either. It doesn’t sound like what little Gaelunder I’ve heard her use.”

“Any Gaelunder she’s used on the ship was probably cursing,” Drake muttered.

“Right, but it’s got a certain... sound to it that this doesn’t have. But I’m not a linguist.”

A door on the opposite side of the room opened and a young man in a lab coat entered, his eyes on the medpad he held. Smitty pulled his arm away from the redhead and took a step away. Mac watched him with a deep pain on her face.

“Okay, the customary medication for Oyrt berry allergy handled most of the symptoms. Our biochemical tests, however, indicate you might experience some of the more unusual reactions, so the lab is working up a cocktail to handle those. It shouldn’t take long to get that ready.”

“What unusual reactions?” Drake asked. The young doctor finally looked up, and Smitty turned, his face red. “I’m Dr Drake McGregor of the Fireball. The patient is Colleen MacDowell, communications, and Smythe is Chief Engineer.”

The youngster smiled, seemingly more at ease with someone in his own field. “I’m Dr Quince.” He offered his hand, which Drake briefly took. “First, less than 1% of the population is allergic to oyrt berries. A higher number for visitors, so facilities that serve oyrt berries keep a broad spectrum anti-allergen on hand, just in case. This patient had a pretty severe reaction, but the worst of it was receding by the time she got here, since the life guard had given her that anti-allergen. Still,  I’m afraid our bio-chemical scan indicates the possibility of a mental side effect. It appears her brain chemistry is possibly changed, producing some confusion or unexpected emotions. The lab should be here shortly with a fix. Assuming, of course, that she’s acting... odd.”

“Absolutely,” Smitty stated, and both doctors turned to him. He added, “I can’t get her to speak English! It’s like she doesn’t understand me.”

“Well, if English isn’t her first language...” Dr Quince began.

“It’s not, but she learned it in elementary school,” Drake returned. “So it’s not a recent acquisition. She’s quite a linguist, so losing a language  could effect her career. Is that the type of confusion you meant, that she might forget what language to use?”

“Um, no. Understand, there’s only been a few individuals whose minds were - temporarily - affected by this allergy. There’s no mention of it affecting their language, only that it seemed to send them back to an earlier period of their life, a time of mental turmoil.”

Has there been a time in her life that didn’t includ mental turmoil? Could she think she’s back on Gaelunde? I wouldn’t think she would have dared hold any man. “How long does that last?”

“If we don’t straighten out her brain chemistry? That’s hard to say. Days. Weeks.”

“Black space,” Smitty bit out. “We’ve only got 9 days left of shore leave!”

“Then we’d better get the cocktail right,” Dr Quince stated, and glanced at the doorway. “Is that one of yours, too?”

MacGregor glanced behind him. “Another crew member, yes. And one of Mac’s best friends.” He turned to address Yellow Dog. “Any idea where Bugalu is?”

“Yes,” YD answered, and slipped forward to consider Mac, who had laid down when the doctors started talking.

“Doctor, I realize a ship’s crew can be tightly knit, but I don’t believe it would be in the patient’s best interest to have all her friends visit right now. Depending on how far in her past she thinks she is, it could deepen her confusion. Which could lead to complications. I mean, further complications.”

Yellow Dog spoke briefly, but not in English. When the redhead started to answer, the AmerInd winced and put her hand over Mac’s mouth. Green eyes glared up from the bed, but YD mildly told her, “Not Kolla. Mac.”

“Kolla?” Drake asked. “She thinks she’s Kolla? Again?” At least she’s not reliving her life from years ago.

Dr Quince asked, “Is that a... separate personality that’s manifested before?”

“No,” Drake answered. “Well, yes, but not like you’re thinking. Never mind, it’s a long story. But if it makes any difference, that means her mind has, ah, returned to about 6 or 8 weeks ago.”

The youngster’s eyebrows rose. “That recent? From the state of her biochemistry, I would have guessed much older memories. But we’ve never had a Gaelunder visitor before, and her brain chemistry has deviated from Human normal.”

Deviated? Drake turned to Beth. “I don’t remember any deviations from Human normal when she came aboard.”

“No. You commented on how normal she was. Except for her density, of course. But you didn’t specifically analyze her brain chemistry; you expected the computer to point out any differences that might need to be known.”

“And it didn’t point any out, so she must have been within human parameters.”

“But Kolla’s body chemistry is considerably different, isn’t it?” Smitty asked. “So, if she’s back to being Kolla, perhaps it’s because her brain chemistry has been changed to be more like Kolla’s?”

“I don’t understand,” Dr Quince stated. “If Kolla is a different person, how can this woman have returned to thinking she’s that person?”

How do I make it believable? Even Fleet HQ had trouble with it, and if we hadn’t all been saying the same thing... “Well, if we have time, I’ll try to explain. But for now, don’t be in too big a hurry with that chemical cocktail. It might make things worse instead of better. Beth, find a computer and pull up that original exam from the Fireball files. Let’s compare them to what they found here at the first aid station.”

“I can’t,” Beth told him flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because the ship is shut down,” Smitty answered for her. “So it’s a good thing I’m here. Only the captain can open the doors wide, but I can get you into the medical files. Dr Quince, where is a computer terminal we can use?”

“Over here.” He led them to the far corner.

Drake considered the redhead, who was again sitting up, watching the trio gather around the computer terminal. “I’m beginning to think Bugalu is right.” She turned her attention to him at the mention of the helmsman. “You don’t look for it; trouble comes looking for you.”

She considered him blandly for a moment, but her sudden smile seemed to agree with him.