Darkworld: Earth

23.

Anders stared at the hologram of his own naked body, unashamed despite the presence of Liu Wei and the Yonohoan medical officer, who was present by hologram. The Yonohoan, one Trenola, had volunteered to cut the connection during Anders’ participation in the exam, but Anders had insisted upon her remaining for several reasons.

Primarily because she was the only one who understood how the instrumentation actually worked and could read the data on a level which would take Liu years to master. He was genuinely curious about the result and the current state of his health, and he wanted the best eyes available.

But he also wanted to see her expression as she reviewed the data to try to gleam from her body language any hints as to hidden motivations. So while he was watching as his holographic body was virtually dissected, a corner of his awareness was directed squarely on the young Yonohoan woman who was attending the examination virtually.

“You are in much the same state of health that Sergeant Diego Cruz was when he came to us, Commander,” Trenola commented. “Your muscles and bones have begun to atrophy due to the prolonged time you have spent in zero gravity. You show certain signs of malnutrition despite your insistence that you are taking vitamins to counteract such a thing. And unfortunately your dendrites show the same signs of deterioration as both Sergeant Cruz and Doctor Liu Wei.”

“How bad is the neural degeneration?” Anders asked. “I don’t particularly care about the rest of that stuff.”

“Hmm…” The Yonohoan considered the question. “It is hard to say because we don’t have a baseline on you personally or your species as a whole.”

“We’re all human, aren’t we doctor?”

“Of course we are. However, we’re separated by what was done to our ancestors by the science of our former enslavers, as well as however many thousand years of natural evolution,” Trenola explained. “I would know more if I could sample your genetics, but I understand why you are wary about such a matter. As Eolai has instructed, I am to remain conscious and deliberate in my efforts to assist you in managing your health.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Anders said. “Do you have enough data to say whether the deterioration is hitting us all the same or if it’s hitting certain individuals harder than others?”

“I have three data sets. Well, one more if you consider that Sergeant Cruz has been getting scanned daily since he came to us. But no, I can’t judge the level of exposure or the state prior to exposure, so I can’t tell if certain individuals are more susceptible, which is I believe what you are asking,” Trenola said.

“Acquiring our DNA would help?” He inquired.

“Immensely, yes. It would allow me to screen for many diseases which might hide, increase, or mimic the symptoms,” she explained. “If I do detect a variance in susceptibilities among your crew it might even allow me to identify the specific genetic factors involved.”

“I understand. Liu, what do you think of this device?” Anders asked.

The Chinese woman looked up from the hologram where she had been analyzing the readouts around Anders’ liver. “This isn’t just one or two generations beyond what we have, Anders. This machine is like Prometheus stealing fire from the gods and giving it to a doctor. I couldn’t get this level of detail on autopsy, to be honest. If we could duplicate this technology on Earth, we would advance medicine by centuries.”

“These devices have changed very little in almost ninety thousand years,” Trenola admitted. “They are so common throughout the universe that very few people actually investigate how they work or the data contained within. It would be a very interesting experiment to give them to a world like yours and see what your medical professionals do with them.”

“It would also probably put a lot of doctors and nurses out of work,” Liu admitted.

“That’s a concern for the politicians and leaders back home,” Anders reminded her. “Our role at this point is to inform them that an offer of such a technology exchange exists. It’s their job to negotiate and navigate the specifics. Tell me, Doctor Trenola, do you think that Yonohoan medicine could reverse the damage that you’re observing in the three specimens you’ve seen so far?”

Trenola hemmed and hawed for a moment. “I do not want to make any promises, but I can think of several treatment options off the top of my head. There are several pharmaceuticals which might help promote the regrowth of the damaged tissues. There is also the fact that so far none of you Earthlings seem to have medical nanites in your body. It’s entirely possible that modern medical nanites would have already corrected the problem on their own.”

“Are you saying that a Yonohoan might be able to use the Tunnel Drive without suffering mental degeneration?” Liu asked.

“It is hard to say for certain because the mechanism for the damage isn’t well understood. It is simply marked as a method of FTL travel which is possible but harmful to humans. The truth is, Liu, that the data provided by your crew is already more detailed than what I was able to find within the archives of the medical texts,” Trenola explained. “According to the records, most men and women who tried to use this method of travel went insane within one or two jumps, but by your own accounts you’ve been through more than a dozen.”

“Given this type of damage to our brains,” Anders began, “what sort of symptoms might be warning signs that the damage is progressing to the point of becoming significant.”

“Any amount of brain damage is significant,” Trenola said immediately. “However, if you’re looking for early symptoms, I would say any psychiatric symptom that was not present before the exposure to your Tunnel Drive. I would include depression, mania, delusions, reduced impulse control, paranoia, anxiety, and many others. Are you experiencing any of those symptoms?”

“If I am they’re not to the point where I have noticed them in myself,” Anders said.

“Asking for a friend?” Liu asked.

“No. I am asking for my crew. I am the XO, and in case you’ve forgotten, the medical wellbeing of my crew is my responsibility as much as it is yours and the captain’s,” Anders said sternly.

“Of course. I’m sorry, I only meant to lighten the mood,” Liu apologized.

Anders sighed. “No, perhaps I was too stern. I’m sorry, but I was just informed that I have brain damage which might require alien medicine or nano-machines in order to correct.”

“I believe there was a clause in the contract we had to sign which specifically stated that as a possibility,” Liu pointed out.

“There was. I remember reading it,” Anders agreed. “It’s different when it’s no longer just a potential thing that might happen, however.”

“Indeed, I know exactly what you mean,” Liu said. “I wonder how many jumps it will take before we all start showing symptoms?”

“I don’t know,” Anders said. He didn’t add his next thoughts.

Because it was entirely possible that they were all already experiencing symptoms, and nobody had noticed it yet. Or, if they had, it was simply being written off as the usual behaviors that cropped up in a crew of forty some people isolated for months at a time.

That was, after all, how Sarah’s symptoms had gone unnoticed for months.

~~~~~~

Anders left medical after some further discussion with the doctor about the potential treatment options that she’d already identified. The doctor had ordered of the pills that were most likely to be effective to be printed out by the chemical forge which was included in the level one clinic attached to the Toormonda.

While he disliked the idea of bringing anything back from the trip, adding a plastic bag filled with pill bottles wasn’t very difficult. He just hoped that they were just pills, just pill bottles, and just a plastic bag.

But then again they had what was known to be an advanced piece of alien engineering sitting in one of the emptied out storage areas. And they already knew that the aliens were using that device to transmit radio waves in order to break the speed of light.

They didn’t need to sneak the horse into Troy. It was already in the street, and they were partying around.

He disliked the risks that Captain Moon and Sergeant Cruz were taking. However, now that he was aware that some of his shipmates might be showing symptoms related to the use of the Tunnel Drive, he had to account for the possibility that any of them might be. Or all of them.

Including the captain.

Including himself.

He quietly examined his own methods of thinking and tried to compare them to his baseline. But of course that’s the problem, he thought. The way you think naturally changes from day to day. From hour to hour, and even minute to minute. It changes based on mood, on the lighting, on your company. On your hormones and the environment.

He couldn’t compare his effectiveness to what it had been on Earth because he wasn’t on earth. He was in the largest and most expensive spacecraft that Earth had ever built. He didn’t even know how far he was away from his home in terms of distance because only astrogation had that data. And perhaps the captain.

They’d been jumping around for months, jumping vast distances through the universe with the faster than light Tunnel Drive. Not in a straight line, but to and froe. There was a method to the madness, but the goal of the mission was to collect the probes which had been sent out ahead of them, some of the probes having been in space for decades.

It was only chance, the ship’s AI, and Gabriel’s own attention to detail and pattern recognition which had led the Seeker to stumble across the alien broadcasts.

He stopped by one of the walls that led to the exterior of the ship. “Ship, can you make the walls transparent for me?”

The ship beeped. “The interior walls are not allowed to go transparent due to built in privacy concerns,” A gentle, unsexed voice answered him.

“Exterior walls only is fine. I just want to see the night’s sky.”

The ship beeped again, and the pastel colored wall abruptly turned as clear as glass. He looked out into the firmament, and he tried to remember what it looked like back at home.

He could remember the big dipper, and orion, and a few of the other constellations. He was a backup pilot, so he knew enough to find some of the reference points. Except he’d thought it was idiotic that he had to learn how to navigate by the stars when if he had to ever use those skills those stars would be in a completely different location.

He stared out at the alien starscape, and he couldn’t help realize for the first time that he was completely and thoroughly lost. He wondered if he’d ever be able to see his home again. His wife had divorced him when the opening on this mission had come through. It was a mutual decision; his choice of the mission over their relationship the final cut in a relationship that was already ragged and threadbare.

“Perhaps I really have been giving Diego not nearly enough credit,” he whispered to himself. He spent another few moments staring at the stars, then turned and headed towards engineering to speak with the final member of the away team.

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