The crew of Novaris managed to finally unload all the necessary equipment aboard the liner. Tiberius gave an order to his men to start the distribution on each deck of the anti-viral serum. Tiberius with his staff, got their pesonal EG hazardsuits and went to give on each patient in person, the medicine. The portable medical laboratories were dispatched succesfully after some minutes. The GeniXs were working at full capacity, though some didn't knew how to use that piece of equipment. Tiberius then went to the ventilation control room and inserted the serum. He operated the local command node and then he waited for Cryer to finish the repairs on the ventilation system. After that, Tiberius was summoned on Deck A2 to look on an autopsy. What he saw there was an entire massacre, the interiors of that victim's body were burned by some sort of intense acid bacteria. The body was entirely destroyed on the inside. The virus was very agressive, especially on persons that were sick before, he was like exploiting the weakness of the man...
Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh, you touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding. - Sovereign
Jake Shattuck watched as Tiberius of Exogeni went swiftly about his tasks, directing his substantial compliment of staff with confidence and precision. Jake instructed units via his discreet wrist-comm. to stay clear of the operational space that it became apparent Exogeni would be using. He looked on as their staff quickly setup testing equipment and created the usual bustling order of a treatment centre.
Following Tiberius to the coronary suite, Jake was shocked upon seeing the resident pathologist standing over an apparently internally-ravaged cadaver. The situation had quickly gone from bad to dire, Jake sent a yellow level alert flag down the line, as he opened one to the executive co-ordinators team:
'Co-ordinator Sir, we have a situation'¦' he activated the feed from his eye, displaying the splayed ribcage of the corpse, and the gooey void within. 'It is my opinion that we should also consult Dr. Hartford: the damage here seems similar to reports from one of his projects'¦apparently similar to the Carlisle strains, the infectious agent simply devours and destroys internal organs, resulting in a quick, if painful death; Shattuck out.' Jake turned to Tiberius and the medical examiner once more 'Well...Doctor Maxwell is it? I assume we are waiting on the bloods and toxicology results. In your opinion Doctor Maxwell: was this a simultaneous system-wide failure? Or does it look like the lungs went first? Is there any neural damage, Cranial haemorrhaging? I'd be interested to know if the infectious agent has spread through his entire central nervous system and if there was any particular catalyst for the acidic reaction.'
***
The hazardous biologicals team were waist deep in muck, cursing their superiors as they sifted, sampled and scanned the effluence around them. 'Leffy, how come we're wallowing in waste, when it's going into the fekking sun anyway!?'
Leffy awkwardly turned to Tor, his view restricted by his bulky hazmat suit: 'You heard the doctor Tor: we do this and we get a significant chance at being promoted. Builds character he said: and all the big-wigs got character in spades.'
'Wait a second Leffy: are you saying that at some point all them cocktail drinkin' flousies up there were in the muck like us down 'ere?'
'Sure as the sea is wet Tor: them folk up top are steeped in character - stands to reason that they been where we are now, and don't you wanna be like them?'
'What you mean send other people down to sift through this mess?! 'Course I do Leffy but I don't want to be doing this ever again. I mean that time down on Leeds was fair enough: that was a mess that needed cleaning, but this just '¦fekking cleft-monkeys, sipping their tea and cosmos'¦' Tor ranted as he flung another dripping mound of semi-solid waste into one of the many marked disposal containers 'Leff? What if they forget about us down here? What if they leave without us?' Echoes of the pairs inane bickering resounded around the large waste tank into the night.
***
Tethered to the Hawaii in a small isolated unit, Natalya sat arranging and relaying information as it flew across her illuminated screen. As she surveyed the shared communications network even Natalyas' removed psyche registered shock at the alert: she quickly reviewed the personnel numbers and statistics before her as her mind extrapolated patterns and identified likely threat areas. Patching a request into the queue for the Medics vessel at mooring point one, Natalya attempted to sound less robotic than usual: 'Cryer Viewpoint four to Medics Whitesun - the following data leads me to suggest a hermetic sealing of each suite and further division of the patients. Additional personnel would alleviate the workload and increase efficiency by fifteen percent.' After sending the information Natalya reclined: well pleased with her warm, sympathetic message; she allowed herself twenty seconds of random synapse firing before returning to the information flow.
***
Elsewhere, another Cryer employee was busy trying to locate the infamous Andrew Ross: the apparently accidental source of the controlled chaos of the Hawaii. The suited form that was Pilgrim stopped in its tracks after minutes of scanning the multitude of faces that passed by and visibly sighed: the photo was a sorely lacking clue in a mask crowded environment, he needed something more 'Co-ordinator, this is Pilgrim requesting clearance for a level one bio-scan of the Hawaii'¦Target is the pet of Andrew Ross - sequence data uploaded'¦Standing by...'
"They are taking this very seriously," Jennet was skimming through the reports of Cryer's operations, "I hope I will have some of a ship left intact when they are done. They are cleaning, checking and replacing systems even my chief engineer have never heard of. Hell, they even sent a team into the garbage dump, what do they expect to find there?"
John took a careful sip of coffee before replying. While Jennet was busy reading and giving occasional orders to her crew to ensure no-one was buried under garbage or sucked through entire length of the ship in ventilation systems, John was sitting in Jennet's chair and using her mug, something she tried her best not to notice, "They have good reason to be serious. Tiberius has finished the autopsy, the report is there at the end of the pack you are holding. You can read it, just don't look at the photographs."
He waited for a moment to let jennet ignore his warning. As she turned green in face, John continued, "Yeah, it's bad. Apparently, the disease has other effects on human body on later stages we didn't know of. Or it interferes with other diseases. Or... eh, I forgot other options... it's all written in report either way
Good thing is, that ExoGeni has started the distribution of the medical. They also injected some of it in ventilation system. So, hopefully, the worst is over."
***
Andrew was enthusiastically doing his job. Which was picking an inhaler, turning it over a few times in hands (he had no idea why it was necessary, but everyone else was doing it), putting it on a table, then repeat. Honestly, it started to bore him, so, when his hand-held device made a beep, he eagerly stepped aside and checked the news.
"They did a bio-what? Oh, blimey, couldn't they just ask?"
He sighed and set his device to transmit on Cryer's public frequency.
"Dear Cryer, I appreciate your efforts, but they were unnecessary. You can always meet me, with prior appointment, in Small Conference Room No.3 on deck 2. Sincerely yours, Sam, also known as pet of Andrew Ross"
After chuckling wholeheartedly at his own joke, Andrew added, "Ah, sorry, lads. I should have introduced you earlier. Don't worry, I'll be there in a few minutes"
Felix remained at the make-shift command centre he had his men set up, just next to the Medics and ExoGeni's operations room. In the midst of bulky hazmat suits and loud chatter, his constant bark down the communicator was distinct to any ear in that confined room unfit to contain this volume of personnel.
After being bombarded with requests and status reports for the past three hours, Felix was fed up with the general doubtfulness and incompetence of his colleagues and was about to switch his command temporarily to a tertiary coordination team when his communicator buzzed in his hand once again. After glancing at the source and identification of the communication request, he reluctantly answered the call.
"Co-ordinator, this is Pilgrim requesting clearance for a level one bio-scan of the Hawaii…Target is the pet of Andrew Ross - sequence data uploaded…Standing by..."
"Oh for the love of… You're asking me to grant you a LEVEL ONE scan? Don't you have at least half the brain of a Gaian monkey? Go through your emergency handbook and find me the list of personnel who can issue authorisation to a level one bio-scan. You see, there're people below me who're less important. Ask THEM instead of calling the EXECUTIVE coordinator. I'll fire you if you dare to ask me about such a trivial matter again, understand?" Felix yelled down the communicator, but quickly regretted losing his temper and professionalism.
Without even waiting for the employee to answer, he flung the communicator onto the conference table along with scattered equipment. He then picked up a latest report on the autopsy of certain victims from a senior scientist and immediately raised an eyebrow upon reading it.
"Seems to be worse than I thought," Felix said to himself then turned to Ashley, who was standing next to him, "Ashley, it appears we'd have to prepare for the worst case scenario. Get on the line with our control teams and prompt them to increase the settings on their equipment to near lethal."
"Yes sir, I'll get right on it." Ashley answered in a monotonous voice; working long shifts without breaks have dampened her composure. She has lost her radiant glow she arrived at the Hawaii in.
Meanwhile, Felix picked his communicator back up. It was now filled with several missed communications. He simply flicked his finger across the screen and they were hidden amongst the communicator's busy screen. He then sat down on his chair facing away from the room and activated the communicator's virtual keypad. As a 3 dimensional keypad flickered to life in front of him, Felix began to construct a relayed request for assessment addressed only to the senior inspection teams. The dim light from the communicator further emphasised the ominous and grave look on his emotionless face.
"Identification: Executive Coordinator Felix Cabulb Authorisation code: LF-FC012-Gamma
From what I've read on the autopsy reports, it's come to my attention that this epidemic is highly lethal and resilient. Therefore, I hereby request a conclusive critical assessment from all principal inspectors on the potency, resistance and contagion potential of any discovered agents or virus onboard the Hawaii. Focus on physical and psychological effects on victims and report back any symptoms of aggressiveness, intellect capacity, physical deterioration/empowerment and other related issues. Assess whether or not this agent or virus can be exploited in any way to our advantage. If so, obtain a sample of each strain and conceal them in discreet locations. Encrypt your reports using the following key at the end of this message. You know what'll happen if you tell anyone about this."
Felix's finger hovered on top of the transmit button as he hesitated and reviewed the message quickly. Then, with a swift press followed by a small bleep, the message was sent and relayed through many levels of Cryer exclusive proxies to a point its source and destination was too scrambled to be recognisable to receiver without the precise protocols. He then swivelled around to face the noisy room again and began to process the missed transmissions.
Sophie crawled from the vent, unmindful of the sweaty stench she emitted: gratefully breathing in a cool lungful of the precious air, she stretched out her petite limbs. Someone gingerly patted her shoulder and assured her 'Good work technician, you are safe now. Go stretch your legs before we're wanted over in the west wing.' She looked to the assistant co-ordinator in acknowledgement as she sipped thirstily at a bottle of water, and ambled off towards the main distribution hub.
Wide eyed, Sophie stared at the coughing bodies that wandered as she passed, feeling a little disconnected but glad to regain freedom of movement. Reasoning that she could grab a heat wrap from the nearest med station she wandered deeper into the milling populace of the sick, until she arrived at a crowded dead-end.
An apparently distraught passenger gripped a young-lady by the neck: an old-fashioned firearm pointed at her temple. The man was barking at the civilians who kept a fearful distance 'Stay back! No-one comes any closer or she dies!' he fired into the ceiling, pieces of plas-steel and ceramics scattered down. The crazed, suited man swept the weapon across the now-kneeling crowd 'I won't stay cooped up in here like a dog! She and I are leaving! Don't anyone try to stop us!'
Sophie stood, still numb from her ministrations, she staggered toward the scene as a member of the congregation rushed the man. Another shot rang out a Sophie found herself lying face-up '...funny I don't remember lying down' she spluttered through a mouthful of her own blood. Her whole left side felt numb and warm, wincing with effort she gently touched the area with her right hand and lifted it only to see it come away slick and red.
'Co-co'¦ordinator'¦I've been'¦shot s-s-sir' faces now appeared gathering round her 'I'm dying' she tried to tell them. Their faces wore fear but they spoke reassuringly, it didn't matter: their voices were so far away now. Sophie didn't want to go, she could feel herself getting colder as the people rushed about her, she began weeping. Her brain starved of oxygen, Sophie spoke to the man clutching her 'I am'¦the tiny horseman'¦in your mind' and the cold grip of death brought darkness.
***
Pilgrim visibly winced as the co-ordinators' voice resounded from his communicator, a passer-by might casually categorise the flinching man as being assailed by invisible opponents. 'Y_yes Sir: I'¦I understand' he managed to apologetically choke out through his upset, unaware that the co-ordinator had already moved on.
Almost immediately another alert came through from a sub-coordinator 'Pilgrim! You have been re-assigned'¦the scouring team in elevator shaft five, deck eight require your help. They should also have a new I.D for you Quinary assistant technician: I'm sure you will find plentiful and varied opportunities at this'¦diminished position, Happy detailing.' Pilgrim cursed himself at his stupid mistake: in his overly eager attempt to impress the Co-ordinator, he had only angered the executive, and gotten himself severely demoted and assigned to tedious, exhaustive task in the process. Taking out his wallet, he opened it to gaze forlornly at the portrait of Felix Cabulb which he kept there. He Sighed, stroking one finger across the picture as he shuffled along, mourning his ambitions of getting close to the Co-ordinator.
***
At the floor of the elevator shaft, amidst the grime of industrial lubricants and years of fungal growth, Pilgrim recalibrated the electron-scanner for the twentieth time and began assessing the shaft surface for aberrations. Here in the bowels of the ship the small crew of five waddled to and fro: ungainly in their safety gear.
Scanning every inch of the elevator maintenance bay, scooping up the viscous goo, and 'scrubbing' meticulously using targeted bombardments of radiation: this crew were definitely one of the more miserable among the Cryer staff onboard. After swapping stories on how they ended up here, the fives' chatter extended no further than a staccato flurry of verbose profanities. Pilgrim Carlson had drawn the short straw and was on his knees at the floor of the elevator chute, scanning a seemingly pristine surface for any sign of spores. 'spetching, crenverters must be screwy - Hugo! Pass me another micro-scanner would ya?'
'Sure thing pilgrim, right with you' Hugo replied, heaving another backpack and hand-viewer across the dark metal room. Pilgrim saw Hugos' face turn white as the elevator indicator light reflected in his face mask. Pilgrim barely had time to look up as the high-speed elevator hurtled downward with sickening speed. He had time for one last expletive, before the lifts lower workings tore into and through his body. The limp mess of limbs that was Pilgrim exploded under the crushing impact of the machine: turning him into a wet, red, paste, coating the elevator shaft floor and his four remaining colleagues.
***
Julian made his way to Deck two and the conference room whilst barking his final orders at the team attending to plumbing systems ''¦yes Luigi co-ordinate with the team at pump three and have them run a parallel consistency test...I have to go, I have an important meeting'¦ Yes I'll see what I can do about getting Daisy re-assigned: Houshmenzada out!' Entering the lift and straightening his tie, Julian regained his composure and poked at the old-fashioned elevator control. The cabin remained motionless and Julian cursed as he noticed the red light indicating that a lock had been established on this panel. Impatiently he jabbed his fingers repeatedly at the pad, punching in a random combination.
Eventually the red-light disappeared and the cabin lurched downward into movement, Julian looked to the panel again to see the basement floor button and deck two lit, 'Fek' he vocalised 'nothing's working today! Now I have to wait an extra three seconds before deck two! Are you shetting me lift!?' his affront lasted a moment before the panel indicated upward movement again, taking a bottle from his pocket he quickly unscrewed the cap and popped a capsule before stepping confidently from the cabin, his demeanour significantly calmer.
Julian passed his hand over the door-panel to the conference room in courtesy, announcing his arrival. A moment later the portal opened and Julian stepped through, mentally assessing Andrew Ross as he bowed, inclining the respectful three inches, before straightening and offering his hand 'Doctor Ross I presume: and this must be 'Sam'? How tiny and'¦uhm'¦rodent-y. I'm sorry about the bio-scan mix-up: some people might anticipate your feeling like a fugitive; but I don't think that Captain Frial or anyone else is interested in prosecution here. '
Raimon sighed while he sat down with one of his doctors.
"What a chaos. Strange though, the results of the autopsy, this can't possibly be caused by the disease we originally came for. It blocks the airways, not.. not THIS"
The other doctor shrugged.
"Let Cryer and ExoGeni solve it, Rai, they could more resources and more men. I'm sure they are doing everything just fine.
Come let's drink another cup of coffee"
Raimon nodded.
"Yeah.. I suppose"
Hew went to the coffee-making machine and followed his colleague's advice.
Regardless of how much he hated to put his own life and health in danger, John knew he would never be able to ask anyone to do what he was now up to. He had performed a similar stunt once, good seven years ago, and knew that doing it again himself is easier than go through the trouble of explaining the details and reasons why his plan is not as retarded and suicidal as it sounds.
The dead-end was now empty - the crowd had quickly retreated after the Cryer's employee was shot. The man responsible for that was standing in the center of passageway, close to back wall. He was still holding the girl in front of him.
Schematics suggested that a side corridor about 10 meters from back wall was the closest entrance to the dead-end. John opened the door and slowly walked in his hands in front of him clearly visible. Suited man tensed for a moment and gripped his gun even more tightly.
"Stay calm, I'm here just to talk. I am John Frial, captain of Crying Lightning. Who are you and what are your demands?", John said as calmly as he could.
"I am... not important. I want... no I demand a fast ship and a free passage out of this system. No tricks like pursuit or tracking, she is coming with me. I'll let her go once I land somewhere"
Jennet's voice crackled in the hidden microphone in John's ear, "I'm on standby. Waiting for signal"
John slightly nodded and took a few small steps forward, making the man to tense again, "That may be complicated. OSC politics don't really endorse making deals with terrorists. And what guarantees we have that you fulfill your end of the deal?"
"Terrorists? Deal? Do you think I am joking? Look, I only want to get out of this" As the man spoke, John took two more steps forward, "Hey! Stand still! Do as I say! I'm serious!"
The man was staring to lose his temper, John noted. Good, now to carefully push him just a bit more, "We have everything under complete control. Stop fooling around, put the weapon down and surrender yourself. I assure you personally that the situation will be solved as soon as possible", hopefully this sounds patronizing enough, John though, folding his arms.
The man moved the gun away from girl's temple and pointed it at John, "Personally? You are responsible for this mess! Now you think you can assure anything? Make sure my demands are met, I can take care of myself"
"It's a weird day when a gun pointed at you marks that everything is going according to plan", John thought as he pressed a concealed button in his breast pocket. "Countdown, five seconds, away, then you have twenty... " Jennet spoke that fast it was almost unintelligible, "3... 2... 1... "
John bent his knees slightly and tensed. A weak vibration went through the floor, then a sense of endless falling marked the shutdown of artificial gravity generator of this section. Man and her hostage did not expect it at all and lost contact with floor, girl panicked and started to struggle, giving the man hard time trying to hold her with one hand and aim at John with the other.
As soon as gravity disappeared, John pushed against floor and darted diagonally to wall near the violent passenger. A gunshot fired and a bullet passed uncomfortably close over John's head. "Another part of plan, I really need to get my head checked." The man, however, had just learned of effects of a recoil in no-gravity environment. It had pushed him back and away from the girl, and he was now spinning helplessly around his own center of mass between floor and ceiling.
Two crew members floated in from the same door John walked in previously, caught the girl and brought her close to what once was the floor. "Let's see how you can take care of zero-gravity, planetside rat", John smirked, slowed himself against the wall and launched again directly at the man, the impact threw them both against the side wall. Man was waving and struggling pointlessly as they drifted and bounced from wall to wall and from ceiling to floor. John found the hand holding the gun in the whirlpool of limbs and made sure it hit the wall hard on the next impact.
"5 seconds", Jennet's voice again. John surveyed quickly the surface they were close to at the moment. Steel and ceramics, lights. Ceiling. Excellent. The man 's spin had slowed and he was trying to grab to something on the ceiling to steady himself. John let him do so, released him, pushed slightly against the surface and floated towards the floor.
Usual procedure of activating artificial gravity is to smoothly rise it from 0% to 100% over about a minute. At this particular situation, it jumped back to full in a mere split second. John's feet were only 30 centimeters from the floor when the weight returned, yet he still landed hard, lost his balance and fell painfully against a wall. The violent passenger was not so lucky. He was at almost ten times the height and had no chance to prepare, so he landed horizontally, with a thud and cracking sounds that suggested that more than a few bones were broken on impact.
As Frial stood up, he saw the unlucky passenger being picked up and carried away by four crew members. Fifth walked up to John and handed a communication device.
"Report, Frial, what is going on?"
"Thank you Jennet, I'm fine and alive. Hostage is unscratched. I think. The gunman most likely is a peculiar set of fractures now, let's see if he can put back together. Try to establish his identity, then forward it to Cryer. I think they may be interested to know it."
***
Ross shook Julian's hand, then bowed for a good measure. Sam curiously examined the newcomer, sniffed the air and sneezed.
"Good day! Yes, I am Ross and this is Sam. He is a sort of a rodent, as much as the term can be applied to Gaian animals. Similarities to certain kinds of Sol rats are quite obvious, yes. Don't worry, he doesn't bite, it seems he can eat any kind of edible plant, at least I haven't yet found a sort of salad from Hawaii's menu he doesn't like. Now, shall we sit down, standing is awkward. "
Andrew carefully picked the cage of Sam and placed it on the table, the sat down nearby.
"Ah, and don't worry about the scan. Neither of us don't mind."
Flanked by two of the Hawaiis' employees, Tanya held her breath and looked on in amazement, as Captain Frial grappled with the gunman metres above her. The captain gracefully drifted back down as the assailant spun, as the gravity returned Tanya turned her head quickly, only to hear the sickening crunch as the ex-hostage taker hit the ground. Still in shock Tanya looked to her saviour, as he calmly communicated with his staff. She rose carefully, slow to realise with delight that she remained unharmed 'Captain - That was'¦fantastic! You saved my life: how can I ever thank you?!'
***
Meanwhile in Conference Room Three, deck two:
'I'm glad, and thank you' Julian smiled in appreciation as he seated himself opposite Doctor Ross. 'So as you are no doubt aware, and though benign as your friend may seem - it may be that the sudden sickness surrounding us originated from this little fellas' unique bio-chemistry, and that sneeze may mean little 'Sam' is ill too'¦' Julian ventured, extending a finger tentatively toward the creature, in an attempt at petting. 'so there are just a few facts I need to check in order to get this mess resolved. Can you remember the exact date and time you and 'Sam' boarded the Hawaii? On this map of Gaias' land-mass can you pinpoint roughly where you found 'Sam'? Do you mind if I take a picture of 'Sam' to send to an expert? Do you recall 'Sam' being ill at any point during the journey here? And has he had a diet of anything other than the excellent salads served onboard?' Julians' questions went on as the pair tried to establish a time-line (and therefore an incubation period for the infectious agents), and the finer details of the situation.
'I think it could be productive if we had a sit-down with Doctors Whitesun and Maxwell in order to get to the bottom of the, potentially, dual threats we face here.'
***
Lady Estelle Octavia Baravicci V or 'Stella darling' to her friends, had been a Cryer executive for little more than a year; her place assured to her by her ignorantly rich parents, there had been little that Estelle desired which had not immediately been hers. She wandered the galaxy with an entourage on hand, and even her colleagues had murmured of a severe case 'Ivory Tower' syndrome.
Estelle was held as if gripped by some kind of reverie as her eyes drank in the rugged, yet refined form of Doctor Whitesun. As if in slow motion he mouthed words to a fellow doctor, and strode enigmatically to the Coffee machine. Estelle swooned for a moment as her heart raced: she fainted and fell into the arms of her discreet attendants. A moment passed as the familiar smell of her scent-bottle roused her, and she could once more cast her gaze longingly over his copper-touched hair, broad-shoulders and bright blue eyes.
It was with no small amount of trepidation that she attempted to calm her errant heart and approach this excellent specimen of masculinity, and actually speak to him. She took in a quaking breath before saying 'Doctor Whitesun, I am'¦that is'¦My name is Estelle..' she fluttered 'Oh! Please call me Stella. I'm '¦O yes, I'm with Cryer and I'm supposed to ask you something'¦' her face flushed red as she reviewed the board in her gloved hand. Oh, So my superiors are asking for your help, particularly in regard to find a cure for this destructive condition.' She sighed. 'I'm really sorry to bother you with this Doctor, I'm sure you have other dangerous, rugged'¦Uhm I mean, energetic'¦fleshy'¦pursuits. Did it just get hotter in here? Oh my!' She fanned herself again before collapsing into her waiting attendants arms.
The doctor chuckled while he drank some of his coffee.
"Please, calm down, take a seat, and tell me what exactly do you need?"
He pointed at a chair and gestured for her to sit down.
"I've heard about some weird autopsy results, I take it that that is what this is about? A curious thing, since this cannot possibly be caused by the original disease, which didn't do harm in this way."
He looks worried, yet also fascinated by these facts.
"But if they indeed do require my help with that, I'll of course try at the best of my abilities."
He pauses to drink some of his coffee, and then continues.
"And of course our lab on Ames Research Station will be put to work on a cure as well. I believe Captain Hammersmith is there at the moment with some of our top researchers, the same who had refined the cure we found here ourselves for the original disease."
"Fantastic? Oh, that, I..." John somewhat blushed, then noticed a bit of dust on the left sleeve of his uniform and spent next few moments pedantically cleaning it off. When satisfied, he coughed and turned back to Tanya, now with a smile on his face, "I am just glad you are not hurt. I am sorry you had to go through this. We shall resume the normal workflow of medical's distribution as soon as we can. Come, let's get to the makeshift hospital and set you up with your share"
Putting the arm around her shoulders, John ushered Tanya to the hospital. Via the promenade deck on the other side of the ship.
***
Andrew listened to the hail of questions attentively and thought for a good while before replying, "So, let me see... I can't tell exact time of my arrival, but that was about five days before lockdown. Yeah, five days it is. I found Sam on Gaia about 10 days before coming here, he was quite ill indeed, then, he wouldn't have survived in the wild, so I decided to smuggle him aboard Shetland. An impressive technical feat that was, if I may add.
I had treated Gaian animals before in my veterinarian practice, never do their diseases affect humans. Yet this time it was different, I and a few other passengers got a bit ill. No, nothing like this, just a bit of cold which passed in a few days. I tried treating Sam, but no medicine nor therapy had no effect whatsoever. Though, he gradually got better and better on his own. Weird, eh? Apparently his organism is able to deal with the disease if given enough time."
"As of location..." Andrew looked up his handheld device, "It is 14 degrees 56 minutes Southern latitude and 56 degrees 23 minutes Eastern longitude. Near one of usual landing points of planetside shuttles, near the equator. First I fed him the few plants - leafs and such - I took with me from Gaia, then searched for alternative. Yeah, salads. He refuses to eat any meat. I tried giving him Synth-Paste, but instead of eating he tried to make a cave and sleep in it."
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