Star Cruise - Outbreak (15 page)

She reached out to catch his free hand. “Are you sure? Are we okay?”

He drew her to her feet, holding her close. “I’m sure. Walk me to the door?”

Her eyes held a troubled expression, and her forehead was wrinkled in a frown, but she came willingly. He bent to kiss her on the lips, making no effort to deepen the caress as he had before. “Will you let me take you out to dinner tomorrow, Dr. Shane? And maybe a show at the casino afterward? Because I would like to get to know you better. Much better.”

The smile she rewarded him with was breathtaking. “I’d be delighted, Officer Dilon.”

A moment later, he was alone in the corridor as the portal slid shut, blocking his view of her smiling face. He leaned his forehead against the cool metal bulkhead and took a few deep breaths before pulling himself upright and heading toward the gravlift. He’d check on his people, walk the
Zephyr
, make sure everyone and everything was squared away, and then maybe he’d spend some time in the weight room up on Level 6. And probably finish his night meditating in the Tadochi Garden.
 

Not the program he’d planned on, but as he slipped into the antigrav stream, he felt happy on some deep level, calmer than he’d been in years. Hopeful. New dreams bubbling in his mind. Whistling, he threw his head back to admire the stark, shiny beauty of the
Zephyr
’s core and made plans for tomorrow night’s dinner date.

CHAPTER TEN

The next few days were a blur to Emily, although she took refuge in being kept so busy. The norovirus outbreak continued to rise for another twenty-four hours, and then the measures she and the captain had implemented seemed to kick in, and by Day 8 of her cruise, there were no new cases. The people who’d been sick recovered, except for Arln, and began appearing in the corridors and the dining rooms again. The casino was thronged, and the dance revue and other entertainments sold out. She and Jake had an excellent dinner and a fun time as promised at the performance of the new dance. The evening ended with a chaste kiss at her cabin door and a promise from Jake to repeat the experience soon. He was a perfect gentleman the entire evening, and now Emily found herself the one who was a bit frustrated at the slower pace he was setting. But she couldn’t complain, since she and Jake were unarguably getting to know each other as people, likes and dislikes, warts and all. The process was scary but intriguing.

“Doctor?” Vicente nudged her arm gently. “Do you have anything else for the staff to discuss before we end the meeting?”

Realizing she’d drifted off into a daydream while Relba was giving the supplies update, she made a little business of sipping her coffee before she said, “I think we made it through this pretty well. No new cases for twenty-four hours so we may be in the clear.”

“Nice to see an empty waiting room,” one of the nurses said. “I actually had a twisted ankle to treat earlier. The passengers are resuming their scheduled activities all right.”

Emily reviewed her notes, to see if there was anything else she wanted to discuss with them. Only Arln, the bodyguard, remained in sickbay, not yet having thrown off the virus, which was concerning. He was feverish and sleeping most of the time. Liora, the trideo star, continued to complain of nausea, but Emily ascribed the sensation to her early stage of pregnancy and the fact she couldn’t be given Galamialate. The Enzell mother and children were up and running around as before. The boys suffered mild cases, and the father remained symptom-free as he’d boasted he would. “I think I’m done. Anyone else?”

“We’ve had a little run of people with nosebleeds today,” the PA reported.

“Odd.” A tiny wave of apprehension zinged through her nerves, giving her pause.

“Dehydration maybe?” asked the head nurse.

“Could be. I’ll ask the Ship to double-check her humidity settings.” Emily hoped the answer was something so basic.

“The air balance throughout the
Nebula
Zephyr
meets the ICC-mandated standards at all times,” Maeve said. “I monitor anything to do with the air continuously.”

“Previously undocumented side effect of Galamialate maybe?” Bevar said, glancing at Emily. “Want me to research the possibility? Although I have to say I think it’s unlikely. The drug has been in use in the Sectors for over a hundred years.”

“Go ahead and do the research anyway. We can never be too sure about anything. Let’s all keep an eye on the situation. Let me know if there are more patients, or people with additional symptoms.” She tapped her stylus on the desk.
 

Her comlink pinged. Jake was on the other end. “What can I do for you?” Emily asked, enjoying the tiny thrill of hearing from him unexpectedly. She waved one hand at her staff to signify the meeting was concluded, and the medical crew filed out of her office, talking among themselves. She keyed the display to visual.

“I hear the outbreak is about over.”

“We think possibly,” was her cautious answer. “So?”

Eyes glinting in good humor, Jake smiled. “Have dinner with me in the officers’ wardroom tonight? We can celebrate getting through the worst of the nasty stomach bug. Maybe go dancing later. Some of the others have been asking about you—they’d like to meet you.”

“To gawk at the Angel of Fantalar?” she asked, doodling on her prescription pad idly with the stylus. “Tell their grandchildren someday I was disappointingly human?”

“To meet their new ship’s doctor,” he corrected. “The entire officer corps wasn’t at the beach party last week. And some of the people you wouldn’t be likely to cross paths with in a normal cruise, but we’re still a team.” He studied her, blue eyes steady. “We’re informal, no white gloves, no polished silver, I promise. Whoever’s off shift and hungry shows up. The table talk will probably be all sports. You know the Sector professional tisba finals are going on?”

She knew he was right about meeting the other officers, as much as she hated to admit it. “All right, but I’m only agreeing to dinner there this one time. No commitments.”

“Great. I’ll swing by your cabin at seven, standard time. And I’m serious about the dancing. The casino has a swinging band.” He leaned closer to the vid. “And I’m guessing you can move those hips on the dance floor, once you let the music take over. I could see what a natural athlete you were when we played volleyball at the party. Graceful.”

“I’ve been known to show off on a dance floor every now and then.”
 

“Wear your good shoes.” He broke the link. Emily sat back in her chair, heart beating faster. It had been such a gamble not falling into bed with him that night. She’d wanted nothing more than to get their clothes off and continue the sensual exploration so promisingly begun, but already she couldn’t bear the idea of nothing more between them than a one-night stand or a short-term fling. Jake was the rare kind of man, appealing to her on so many levels. He was worth taking a risk for, worth trying to build a real relationship with.
 

“I’ve shown the first patient of the day into the examination room, Doctor.” Giving her an odd look, Vicente broke into her train of thought again.

“Right.” Grabbing her AI, Emily rose and headed for the door. “Anything exotic?”

“Twisted his back in the antigrav exercise machine yesterday. Trainers told him to see you before they’d let him on the equipment today.”

“So he’s upset we’re trying to make him take care of himself?” She was getting the hang of dealing with these entitled passengers.

Vicente laughed. “Exactly. And he’ll expect lavish praise for enduring our treatments.”

After she got off duty, Emily took a leisurely bath, filling the tub with the scented oils the ship provided in each cabin, even those of the crew, apparently. The day had been moderately exhausting, a lot of small complaints but steady traffic. Maeve had informed her all costs for treatment in sickbay were charged to the passengers’ cabin accounts. She hoped they realized that when seeking out her advice on minor bumps and bruises, but she was relieved not to have to handle the billing. Maeve had assured her sickbay was a profit center for the Line.
 

Soaking in the warmth, she considered the evening ahead. At least most of the officers she’d meet were ex-military. Jake said those with passenger-centric duties had to dine in the passenger dining rooms, rotating through the tables, a different one each night, but every fourth evening was left open to dine with their fellow officers or somewhere else. Passengers loved to say the ranking officers had been their dinner companions, but the experience wasn’t always as much fun for the crew.
 

Smoothing her hair away from her face as she settled deeper into the water, she hoped the elusive Takkei would be in the wardroom. She wanted to thank him for access to the garden. She’d returned twice since Jake had first conducted her through the portal and was seriously considering spending a chunk of her retirement nest egg on having a Tadochi Garden built at her father’s compound at home. Even without a special Mellurean blessing, she had the feeling time spent in the garden would be better for her than more secret trips to the dive bars around the spaceport. Safer too, if she wanted to continue practicing medicine. Pure luck no one had reported her on Harilon, although she’d never signed on for duty within two days of a trip through the bottom of a wine bottle.

Which raised the question—did she want to use her medical skills? Or step away from all of it? “And become what?” she said out loud, laughing ruefully. “Little late in life to start over.” All her years of expensive medical training would go to waste.

As Emily rose from the tub, water sheeting in all directions, she pondered the issue. Even the ER hadn’t been busy enough for her most shifts, not enough stress and pressure. But the bad nights in the ER were too much like her worst times in the military. Those nights triggered her most debilitating flashbacks, after which—the pattern was clear now—she’d go and drink. And as her father had so astutely pointed out, none of the patients were really hers. Just the way she liked it, or so she’d thought, based on what she was used to. In the military, she’d basically done triage or emergency surgery and moved on. She never met her patients again, not unless the soldiers were unlucky or stupid. Stupid didn’t live long in the war between the humans and the Mawreg.

But other than the norovirus, which had provided momentary overwork, this cruise had been uneventful. As she toweled her hair dry, she tried to guess how soon she’d get bored. She stopped toweling for a moment, considering the experience so far. Reaching for her hair brush, she admitted to herself clearly there were opportunities to expand her knowledge in other specialties, such as obstetrics and pediatrics, at least enough to be able to treat patients until they could be shuttled to a planetary facility. Maybe less stress, more contact with the patients and a reason to learn new things weren’t such a bad combination.

She was ready with minutes to spare. Jake was prompt. He whistled. “Gorgeous, Doc.”

Laughing, she pirouetted so the short tunic would flare out over the matching tights. “Meg showed up as I was going off duty, and once she heard we were going dancing tonight, she forced me to admit I had nothing to wear for the occasion. So she dragged me to the shops. She said I couldn’t wear white and I couldn’t wear black.” Gesturing at herself, she said, “So I ended up with blue florals. I’m not going to earn any salary on this damn cruise. It’s all going towards buying clothes I’ll have no use for later.”

“The flowers are the same color as your eyes,” he said. “Beautiful.” Offering an arm, he added, “The wardroom awaits.”

Jake steered them to a grand entrance into the small officers’ dining room, stepping through the portal, clearing his throat, waiting for the full attention if those gathered at the table before introducing her with a flourish. “I give you our new ship’s doctor, Emily Shane.”

Not relishing her place as center of attention, Emily felt her cheeks growing red. “It’s a pleasure to be aboard,” she said, glancing from face to face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to meet you earlier in the cruise, but I was swamped by the norovirus cases.”

The man seated at the center of the table hoisted his coffee mug. “Welcome to the
Zephyr
. I’m Chief Engineer Takkei.”

The others introduced themselves in rapid-fire succession. Emily tried to match faces to names, secretly relieved to know most of the time the officers would be wearing badges, unless off duty. Retention of the names of people she’d met in situations like these wasn’t her strong point. Some form of social anxiety maybe. “Please, go on with your meal. Jake and I can squeeze in at the end. No need to disrupt the whole table on my account.” She was resolved to corner Takkei before the meal ended and thank him privately for the incredible gift of time in the garden.

The waiter was already bringing their salad and appetizers.

“Chef Stephanie sends up a special meal for the wardroom nightly,” Jake said as he held her chair for her. “Usually the best of whatever she was serving in first class. But if there’s something you prefer, it can be ordered.”

Emily took a rapid glance at the main-course plates dotting the table. “Seafood hits the spot for me tonight.” She turned to the waiter. “I’ll have a glass of white pearl wine with my meal.”

One eyebrow raised, Jake gave her a quick look before he said, “Beer for me.”

The waiter nodded, leaving to fetch the drinks.