A Strange Worry

Month 15 Day 5

1933 Hours

Beth Temple

Beth stared at her visitor, who was out of her sling, now, but tended to carry her right arm as if she still wore it. Mac had sat down in Beth's easy chair and then fell silent. Her blusher looked out of place on a face that was usually devoid of makeup. Her eyes looked haunted.

Okay, so this isn't the usual girls' night where we bond over anecdotes and doing each other's hair. Mac is seriously upset about something. "Do you want a drink, Mac?"

She seemed startled by the question, and licked her lips nervously. "Thanks, but no. I, uh, I had one before I came."

What happened to the Mac who was always up for a drink? Of course, I didn't specify whiskey. I didn't necessarily mean whiskey. "You wanted to talk?"

Mac nodded woodenly, and her left hand rubbed down her pants leg, leaving a damp trail behind it. "I know you can keep a secret, Beth, because you can't gossip about anybody's medical records."

Beth sat back on her sofa warily. "Are you going to ask me about somebody's medical record?"

"No," Mac declared, shaking her head emphatically. "It's just that, well, I'm sure you've heard the rumor about me."

Beth let a gentle smile touch her lips. "I've heard a lot of rumors about you, Mac. I know better than to listen to them."

"I'm talking about a specific rumor. The one about me... being pregnant."

Beth frowned. "Yes, I've heard it. More than once. I've been sorely tempted to give the gossiper a piece of my mind, but to do that, I'd have to discuss your medical record. So I can't."

Mac nodded again. "Yes, exactly. Because you've taken an oath, or something. Anyway, from what I can gather, that particular rumor has been started—possibly several times—by someone in medical, who claimed they got it from my records, or they recognized the symptoms, or something. That part gets a little fuzzy." She sighed in frustration. "Well, the whole thing is fuzzy. Like most rumors, most everybody has heard it, but nobody seems to know who started it."

"Yes, that's the way rumors work," Beth agreed. "But that rumor's been around for a while, and you seem terribly upset about it today. Surely you haven't just heard about it?"

"Oh, no," Mac denied. "It's just the news that I got in this morning's mail that has me upset about it. You see, Kolla's pregnant."

Beth let herself smile fully. "Your Yukoskian look-alike. But being pregnant is usually good news. Why does that upset you?"

Mac took a deep breath. "Some people see that we look so much alike, are alike in a lot of ways, and they almost think of us as the same person. If something important happens to one of us, it'll happen to the other, too. So I'm afraid that if the news gets around that Kolla is pregnant, that will feed the rumor that I am, too."

Beth took a moment to think, chose her words carefully. "Those of us who know you can see plenty of ways you and Kolla are different. But perhaps you're right, and that might be beyond those who don't know you well. Still, you've done a good job of ignoring the ridiculous rumors about you so far. Even if this news did feed the fire, so to speak, can't you just ignore it?"

"Eventually, they do tend to die out," Mac agreed. "But I've been waiting for that one to fade away, and now, with Kolla's news to renew the whole thing all over again... I just keep thinking this one is never going away."

"It will," Beth predicted confidently. "Pregnant women are not allowed to serve on a Fleet ship past their first trimester. They're assigned planetside somewhere and given a desk job until they deliver. Options diverge after that, a little. So you see, if you're still here after 3 months, and there's no talk of you being transferred, the rumor will be proven false."

The redhead chewed her lower lip as she frowned at the floor. "I know. Trouble is, I don't know exactly how long that rumor has been around. It was 'common knowledge' a month ago, but who knows exactly how long ago it got started? And like I said, it may have been started more than once."

Beth smiled at the younger woman. "It's not something we instantly know about a woman, Mac. First you'd have to come to sick bay and wind up on one of the exam tables, and have it confirm that you were pregnant."

Green eyes rounded in surprise. "What do you mean, it's not instantaneous?"

I thought Drake had 'the talk' with her? How many details did he leave out? "Haven't you noticed that most women don't announce they're pregnant until they're at least a month along? Probably more than that. Everything takes time, even this. Once a woman's egg is fertilized, it has to travel to her uterus, where it implants itself. That takes... oh, a week, maybe 10 days. Until that happens, then technically, she isn't pregnant. And the exam table won't pick it up until after that has happened."

Mac looked stunned, and her blusher became more pronounced. "But Kolla indicated she was 2 weeks pregnant."

"Well, I can't be sure how different the Yukosk biology is from our own. It may be just a matter of different ways of counting their length of pregnancy. Or maybe they keep better tabs on when they have sex, and figure their pregnancy from that. You'd have to ask her to clarify that for you."

Mac sighed in relief. "So you believe that if I just hang on tight, eventually the rumor will die away."

"I do wish you knew who had started it. Even though it's a lie, I'd like to bust whoever started it. Especially if they claimed they got it from your medical file."

"Oh, I have somebody I suspect," Mac said. "But I only suspect her because I don't like her. And the feeling is mutual."

"I know how easy it is to blame somebody when you don't like them," Beth returned. "I'm glad I was able to set your mind at rest. And I see you are not wearing your sling. Congratulations."

Mac's brilliant smile shone. "And not a moment too soon. I was beginning to forget I had a right arm."

Beth chuckled. "You'll have full use of it again before you know it. Are you still assigned to physical therapy?"

A nod confirmed it. "Once a day, at my shift's end. I'm going to ask if we can do it while I'm sitting in a chair. Laying on an exam table makes me feel like there's something wrong with me, and I want to get over that feeling."

"That's a great idea. In fact, they may have you do the movements by yourself, to get some strength back in your muscles."

"Sounds good to me." Mac hesitated. "I'm out of subject matter. I was so worried about that rumor, and you scattered it into space in a few minutes. So... is there something you want to talk about?"

"Well, since you asked, tell me what's happening in Engineering. I've heard that Ivy broke up with LaPour."

"Oh, that's old news," Mac replied. "What surprises me is that she hasn't started dating Bugsy again. In fact, she doesn't seem to be dating anyone."

"Perhaps she's gathering her thoughts about the kind of person she wants to date," Beth suggested.

"Women actually do that?"

"Of course they do. But since you don't have any sisters,..."

The Contest (Epilogue)

Month 9 Day 9

(Shore Leave Day 10)

1503 Hours

Bugalu

Previously:

“I see,” was the captain’s careful return. “And who am I speaking to?”

Mac grimaced. “Colleen MacDowell. I apologize. ‘Mac’ is my nick name for Dr McGregor.”

“Duck!” Burke called, and half a moment later, McGregor stood beside her. “Lt MacDowell says you fixed her confusion over Yukosk vs Fleet technology a couple days ago. Can you shed any light on that statement?”

“Oh, sure. I sent a report to the ship, so look for it after leave. Quite by accident, Mac- Dowell showed up in a sick bay at the local water park. An allergy to a local plant. Working with the local doctor, we discovered her brain chemistry was considerably different from when she came aboard. Apparently a side effect of meeting Kolla the way she did. So we put her chemistry back to her own, and Kolla’s memories faded away.”

“Not exactly,” Mac refuted softly. “They’re in a file in the back of my mind, readily available if I want them, but they don’t present themselves as my memories.”

“Well, that sounds like an improvement,” Jane stated. “And certainly less confusing for you.” She turned back to the arcade owner. “You do know that my chief engineer is Lt Cmdr Smythe, one of the foremost spaceship engineers in the Fleet, don’t you?”

The portly man gave her a startled look, then let his gaze turn to Smitty. “He’s that Smythe?”

“Indeed,” the captain agreed. “And Lt MacDowell - although assigned to communications - is in the midst of being cross-trained in engineering. So, here’s my proposal; if you have a copy of the schematics for this console, Mr Smythe will oversee MacDowell as she puts things back to rights.”

“No,” Smitty stated firmly.

Burke slowly turned to face him. “It seems the perfect opportunity for you to see how much she’s learned.”

But Smitty would not give in. “She’s already passed her computer test, and this is, as I’ve pointed out, nothing more than a specialized computer. I have others in mind to help me document what she did as they straighten things out. And with a team in here, it’ll get done that much faster.”

“But it’s my mess!” Mac protested before Bugalu could squeeze her hand to stop her. “I don’t ask others to clean up after me!”

“You aren’t asking,” Smitty told her sharply. “I am.”

“But captain!” Mac tried again.

“No, sorry,” Burke responded with a small shake of her head. “I asked Mr Smythe to handle this, so I can hardly micro-manage his decisions about how to do that. However, if you sit down at one of the other consoles and stay quiet, he might let you watch.” She gave the engineer a questioning look.

Smitty looked up from his personal communication device. “What?” For a moment, he seemed uncertain how to respond. When he cast a quick glance at Mac, he actually seemed uneasy at the suggestion. “Alright, sit at medical.” He grudgingly gave her the seat furthest from where he and his team would be working. He turned to the arcade manager. “We’ll need the original specs, and I assume your maintenance crew has some tools.”

“I’ve sent for them. Do you mind if my technician works with you?”

Smitty smiled at him. “If he can get here before we’re done.” With that settled, he took a couple steps toward the trio who had just entered the gameroom. “Since you all got here in under a minute, I assume you were here to see the contest. Therefore, you saw how Colleen treated her console. An unorthodox way to play, but I understand she got good results. However, now we have to put things back the way they’re supposed to be. First, document everything she did. We can analyze it after shore leave.”

Abdulla gave a wry smile to Wilson. “Here we go again.”

Oakhurst shook his head. “Wow. Far more wiring than the computers I’m used to.”

“I suspect the manufacturer does that in an attempt to make it seem like the actual wiring of a ship,” Smythe stated. “But if I’m right, most of it is just for show.”

“Yeah, big blobs of wiring that don’t do anything,” Mac stated.

“Quiet,” Smythe told her. “I said you could watch, but no commentary.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly.

“Some day,” Capt Burke softly told Bugalu, “I want you to explain why you took a communications officer who has barely started her cross-training and made her your chief engineer.”

“She may have only officially started her cross training,” Bugalu replied just as softly. “But I suspect she could pass any engineering test given to her. As long as it isn’t Smythe doing the testing.”

“She didn’t make a good impression on him when she first came aboard. And that poor impression seems to be hanging on far longer than I hoped.” Burke turned to face him directly. “Usually, Wilson is your engineer.”

“I don’t think I’ve spoken to Ivy in a month,” he answered slowly. “Maybe more.”

Burke thought about that for a moment, but didn’t ask for details. “Well, I’m going to get out of the way,” she decided. “Maybe Yellow Dog will give me some practice on Nooto.”

“I suggest you try Bear instead,” Bugalu told her. “Dog is... competitive.”

“Or maybe I’ll try a few laps through that Ohrt Belt simulator, see how rusty my piloting has gotten. Care to join me?”

“Lieutenant!” Smythe roared.

Bugalu snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!” he answered, and heard several other voices saying the same. He turned to see Rags holding a ball of wiring from an upper console panel, Mac standing nearby, and Smythe glaring at them.

“No commentary!” Smythe repeated.

“I was just saying-”

Smitty held up his hand for silence. Mac’s face went red with determined defiance. “Since I don’t remember doing anything to that, then Oak doesn’t need to do anything but put it back inside and shut the panel!” she declared.

“If you didn’t do anything to it, then Oakhurst will see that when he compares it to the schematics, and will know what to do with it!” Smitty returned hotly.

“Does he yell at her like that a lot?” Burke asked.

“She usually starts it,” Bugalu admitted. “But they’re on opposing shifts, so they don’t see each other much.”

“Maybe we should take her with us.”

“I... don’t know if she knows how to pilot.”

“Good. We can call it cross-training,” Burke decided, and raised her voice. “MacDowell! Come with us!”

Smythe gave his captain a glance that was... hard to read. Mac looked confused and kept looking at her friends, all drafted to ‘clean up’ what she had done, but she made her way to Bugalu’s side. “Captain, I-”

“Bugalu says you don’t know how to pilot.”

Now her face paled. “I know the... theory. I’ve never gotten much practice at it.”

“That won’t do. Everybody who serves on a ship should have some rudimentary piloting skills. Come on, we were just going to get some practice at it.”

“But what if that guy still wants to get paid for what I did to his machine?”

“He won’t. If necessary, Smythe will send him to me, and I’ll straighten him out.”

Mac seemed ready to protest again, but the captain distracted her as they moved up to the 3rd level by telling her stories of her own efforts to learn to pilot. Plus a couple embarrassing moments Bugalu had as he learned to pilot the Fireball’s bulk.

No doubt Smythe feels relief now that Mac’s been distracted. He always seems... less tense when she’s not around.

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.

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.

Unexpected

Month 7 Day 15

2352 Hours

Smythe

Smitty was working on his third glass of a milky green drink with the consistency of partially-melted crushed ice, a strong odor of boiling cabbage, and a vague taste of pinecones. He had gotten used to it, but thought longingly of the whiskey in his cabin.

He sipped his drink as he turned and immediately noticed a redhead half the room away. This is annoying. All evening, she’s been wherever I look. Hope this doesn’t continue on the ship, me unable to avoid her. After all the times I caught her drinking, at least she isn’t drunk. Isn’t acting drunk. She raised her glass, and half the milky green beverage was downed in a couple swallows. How can she drink this stuff that fast?

Lt Bugalu joined the redhead’s group. All the lovely women at this party, and he can’t stay away from her. Even with a woman on his arm. Wait, the woman with him is Colleen. The paler one I thought was Colleen must be Kolla. Huh. How often have I made that mistake?

A hand touched his shoulder. “Come with me. You’ll enjoy this conversation.”

Smitty followed, but his legs became rubber as S’thyme lead him toward the Kolla/Colleen group. As they walked past, Smitty heard Bugalu ask, “Are you still doing that?”

It took a while for Colleen to answer, but eventually, “I guess.”

Doing what?

S’thyme introduced Smitty to a small group. Ushto, the tall male, was a historian; Fhaghee was a scientist helping extend the transportating beam’s range; and the woman was Gwanth, a biochemist who helped S’thyme’s team when needed. Introductions over, Smitty asked, “I understand your desire to explore another planet, but do you know what the conditions are there? Could your people survive?”

“Yes,“ Gwanth replied. “They’d need better clothing than what’s used at the poles, and...” Her voice faded as Smitty heard another conversation behind him.

“He’s light years away,” Bugalu said. “He has no way to punish you anymore.”

She was slow responding. “I know.” It seemed she was done, until, “But...” A long silence. “But that’s my... my...”

Smitty could see the Yukoskian mouths moving, but the conversation behind him seemed more important. Something’s wrong. She doesn’t usually have trouble talking. Smitty looked around without thinking.

Bugalu faced Colleen, his eyebrows pinched together. “Mac?” She stared at him, eyes half closed and dull. She leaned, and Bugalu grabbed her upper arm. Her eyes fully closed and she collapsed against Bugalu, who took 2 steps back before he could stop her momentum.

His conversation forgotten, Smitty turned around. “What happened?”

“I’ll get Dr Davis,” Bugalu replied, and pushed the redhead toward Smitty.

She was heavy, but he expected that. Smitty put an arm around her and looked for help. He no longer saw Bugalu, but Tall Bear stood near-by, his face as impassive as ever. “Help me lay her down,” he requested.

“She’ll hit me,” Tall Bear returned, but came closer.

“She’s out cold,” Smitty told him.

“She was the last time, and still gave me a black eye.”

S’thyme moved forward, looking confused. “She’s never hit me,” he told the AmerInd, and helped Smitty lower her to the floor. Her hat rolled away and that misbehaving curl moved out of place.

“Has she ever hit you, Mr Smythe?” Tall Bear asked.

“Of course not!”

“Might explain why she’s never hit Mr S’time,” Tall Bear stated.

“What’s going on?” Dr Davis asked breathlessly as Bugalu pulled her across the room.

“She wasn’t herself,” Bugalu stated. “As the evening progressed, she complained of a headache and wanted to hold my arm because it was ‘too dim’. She got shaky, sweaty, and couldn’t think. Glad you weren’t far away, Dr Davis.”

Davis pulled her portable diagnostic scepter from her pocket, knelt and scanned the girl’s body. “Wish I knew what she ate tonight.”

“Not much of anything,” Bugalu stated. “Except for that lavender ice cream or whatever that was served in the middle of the meal. Ate all of hers and mine.”

“We tried to make the food compatible with your biochemistry,” Gwanth stated.

“I know,” Davis answered. “What did she drink, Bugs?”

“They gave her a pale green drink, which she gave to me and asked for something sweet. They didn’t understand until she said something about fruit. Then they brought her a glass of pink bubbles. I think she’s had 5.”

“These readings can’t be right,” Davis said, and started her scan again.

“What do they say?” Gwanth asked.

“That her blood sugar is unheard-of low,” Davis answered.

“Sugar,” Gwanth repeated. “Is that C₆H₁₂O₆?”

“Yes. Our bodies use it as fuel.”

“Not ours,” Gwanth replied. “It slows down our system. We use both the julatei that she ate and the totka she drank to remove sugar.”

Davis pulled a communicator from a pocket. “Davis to sick bay.” There was always somebody in sick bay, but this time, they took forever to answer. “Davis to sick bay!”

“Sick bay,” a female finally answered.

“I’ve got a crew member down with severe hypoglycemia. Prepare a dose of glucose. Make it 2 doses. I’ll send someone for it.”

“I’ll go,” S’thyme stated, his fingers already working the controls he wore on his wrist. People took a step away as he began to dissolve.

“I... don’t think I can do that,” the nurse responded.

Davis stared at her communicator in disbelief. “You don’t know how to prepare glucose?”

“Of course I know,” the woman returned. “But I can’t leave sick bay unattended.”

A 2nd voice broke in. “I’ll get it ready. Sick bay out.”

Davis’ lips formed a taut line as she discarded the communicator and scanned Colleen again. “How much sugar does it remove?”

“Whatever’s in the system,” Gwanth replied. “When it’s done, any remaining agent doesn’t do any harm, so how much sugar it can remove has never been studied.”

“Come on, Mac,” Davis whispered. “Fight it, don’t just-“

Smoke coalesced into S’thyme, exactly where he’d been standing before. He handed a box to Davis. “They sent extra.”

“Good.” Davis tore open the box and grabbed the hypo-unit. Thumbing the controls, she placed the first shot over Colleen’s heart and rapidly followed with other locations in her torso. Wherever she shot, the girl twitched. Davis adjusted controls and continued, placing the hypo-unit against the neck, wrists, thighs... too many places to count. When the machine beeped, Davis ejected the spent supply jacket - which rattled as it bounced across the floor - and inserted a new one before she took another scan of Colleen’s body functions. “Don’t be stubborn,” she mumbled, and began the injections again.

“This would be funny, if it wasn’t so serious,” Bugalu commented.

“Funny!” Tall Bear gave him a disapproving glare.

“Mac was on her best behavior tonight, and she still got into trouble.”

Davis paused to watch her scepter’s readout. “Mac has a habit of getting into trouble?”

“Of one kind or another,” Bugalu stated.

Davis sighed, and some of her tension eased. “She told me the same thing when we first met. This time, we can’t blame her. This was beyond her control.”

“She will recover?” Gwanth asked.

“Yes,” Davis answered, and smiled at the biochemist. “Thank you for your assistance.”

Colleen moaned and rolled her head to one side, pulling the other shoulder off the floor. “Bugs.”

“Right here.” Bugalu squatted, tried to tuck her wayward curl back among the others.

“I’m starving. Can you find some of that... julatei?”

“No,” Davis answered.

“When we get to the ship, you can have pie,” Bugalu promised.

She rolled onto her side and opened an eye. Seeing the crowd gathered around her, her face went red. She muttered a torrent of unpronounceable words.

“I hope that’s not being translated,” Jane stated, and people chuckled as their tension abated. “MacDowell, I thought I told you to keep your hat on tonight.”

Colleen raised an uncertain hand to her disheveled curls. “Yes, sir. Sorry, captain. I’m... not sure what happened.”

“You ate and drank things nobody realized were not good for you,” Davis explained.

“And landed on the floor,” Jane added. “Can’t expect a hat to stay on in those conditions. After all, we didn’t glue it on.”

“Should hope not. I like my hair.” She put her hand flat on the floor, prepared to get up.

“Stay down!” Davis barked.

“Obey the doctor, lieutenant,” Jane instructed. “Dr Davis, when will MacDowell be able to return to the ship?” Davis waved her scepter over the redhead again, considered the readout and administered 2 more doses.

With each shot, Mac winced. “No wonder I feel like a punching bag.”

“I didn’t have time to be delicate,” Davis told her, and turned to Jane. “I think in 15 to 30 minutes. But I want her in sick bay. For the night.”

“What rotten luck for your last night here, Coline,” S’thyme stated.

Davis rose and whispered to Jane, “The only thing she ate or drank tonight were recipes for removing sugar from the blood, since sugar isn’t used by Yukoskians. And that got dangerous very quickly.”

Colleen rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling a moment. “Bugs, did I faint?”

“You lost consciousness, yeah,” he returned. He accepted Mac’s hat, which a native woman held forward.

“I don’t remember much,” she muttered. “And that’s embarrassing.”

The young doctor knelt for another quick scan of her patient. “How do you feel?”

“Starved. Shaky. Weak. If I’m going to sick bay, can I have something to eat?”

“Absolutely. For tonight, it’s pie, cake and ice cream.”

“Sounds strange to hear a doc say that.”

Davis held up the hypogun. “By the time I got some glucose, your blood sugar was at 5. And still going down.”

“What’s it supposed to be?”

“100 to 140. 70 is low. They’ll keep an eye on it in sick bay. Gwanth said the sugar-removing agent works quickly, and is out of their system in 8 hours. But since you’re human, and had several portions, we’re not sure of anything.” She stood. “Bugs, help her into a chair. Let’s see how well she manages that.”

Someone placed a chair nearby. Bugalu and Tall Bear got her in the chair, but she looked as if she had just had a long, hard workout. Sweat rolled down her pale face and stained her uniform as she tried to catch her breath. Bugalu stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. After a moment, he asked, “Are you dizzy, Mac?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate.

Davis stepped forward with her scepter, ‘tsk’ed at the readout, and gave the girl more glucose. “Sit quietly. And say something if anything changes. Vision, headache, nausea... anything!”

“I think... I thought Bugsy was... restless.”

“Come on, Mac,” Bugalu muttered, as if he could ever be restless around her.

Colleen shrugged. “Confusion. Foggy headed.”

“What?” Davis reached for her scepter again.

“Not now,” the redhead clarified quickly. “When I was dizzy.” As Davis relaxed, Colleen looked at the dozen - or less - people in this area. “Where did everybody go?”

Jane stated, “Most have left. We agreed that 3 weeks is a long party, and cutting the last day short by an hour or two does not jeopardize our negotiated agreement.”

“Now I feel guilty,” Colleen muttered.

“Please don’t,” Ushto urged. “This has happened before.”

“A negotiator fainted during the party?” Colleen asked.

“The most notable example is when - many centuries ago - the Yurg negotiator fell ill during the celebration, as did a quarter of his people,” Ushto replied. “Some Yurgs suspected poison. But a Luan doctor was allowed to treat them, and all was good. So long as no food made with xell was served, all remained well.”

Gwanth added, “Xell was a common food for the Luans, but unknown to the Yurg. There are still people on Yukosk who must avoid xell in their diet.”

“I hope I told those ladies how grateful I am for their efforts on behalf of a complete stranger.”

“No, but they all saw you become ill.” Kolla stepped forward. “I’ll give you their names and contact information. You can send your gratitude through the machine W’son installed on our moon base.”

“That seems... impersonal. And late.”

“Not at all,” Gwanth returned. “To hear from you will assure them you are well. And that you remember them with warm feelings.”

“Plus, it will be a good test of the translating radio,” Smitty added quietly.

“Wish I could have been part of that team,” Colleen sighed, and looked around at the remaining Yukoskians. “Thank you for your assurances. I had no wish to spoil the party.”

“Such things happen,” Jane stated. “Dr Davis, how is she doing?”

“The only part that concerns me is the walk from the briefing room to sick bay. As strong as she normally is, she may find that difficult.”

“I’ll take her straight to DocMac’s office,” S’thyme volunteered. “It’s where I came from when I brought the medicine.”

“Then it’s up to her. Are you ready, Mac?”

Colleen looked uncertainly at S’thyme as Bugalu whispered in her ear. She looked startled, but slowly, carefully, she stood up. “That’s the way,” S’thyme said as he surged forward. He took her hands. “Is this enough support, Coline? It’s only a few seconds.”

Colleen looked over S’thyme’s shoulder at Smitty. “It’s fine.” She was still staring at Smitty as the 2 of them dissolved.

And so she goes off with me, except it isn’t me. S’thyme gave me a manual for their transportation beam. I’ll need somebody to translate it. I’ll ask Abdulla in the morning.