Transient Echoes (12 page)

MITCHELL
: Still spreading, unfortunately. It seems the radius of exposure is expanding, though the rate is slow.

PRESCOTT
: How long before it reaches the outpost?

MITCHELL
: A little under two weeks. Doctor Curie is actively working on a solution for containment and remains hopeful—

PRESCOTT
: The board wants solutions, Ms. Mitchell. I have orders directly from Doctor Tremaine stating that if your team can’t figure something out by the seventh day, you’re to be pulled and relocated. Do you understand?

MITCHELL
: Yes, sir.

PRESCOTT
: What about the Framling Coil? Anything to share?

MITCHELL
: I’ve attached the report from our specialist, Bartholomew Higgs. He has made significant progress since the last update.

PRESCOTT
: The board will decide what is significant.

MITCHELL
: Yes, sir. Do you have any other questions for me today?

PRESCOTT
: No. Please inform Doctor Curie I’ll be contacting her in two days for another update. In the meantime, I hope you’ll express to her the importance of these calls.

MITCHELL
: Of course, Doctor. You have my word.

End Audio File

Ortego Reconstruction Outpost

April 23, 2350

John watched as Mei
stared vacantly at the wall of the tent, dazed from the drugs circulating through her bloodstream. Doctor Tabata had given her some painkillers in addition to the usual radiation treatment. This made her sleep often and without provocation, allowing only a few moments of lucid consciousness. When she
was
awake, her words barely made sense. Half the time, all she could do was moan.

John sat beside her, tending like a nurse to her bodily needs. He didn’t mind. Besides, better him than someone else. Her team didn’t need to see her like this.

She seemed to come and go, and so did the chills, the fevers, and the sweats. She vomited often, sometimes until nothing came. Until the dry heaves made her cry.

John rubbed her back and smiled. “Easy,” he whispered.

Her face was wet and pink, and her lip trembled below her runny nose. “W-Where am I?” she asked, darting her eyes around.

“It’s okay, Mei,” he answered, trying his best to stay calm. “You’re with me. We’re in our tent. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She looked into his eyes for a brief moment, a look of realization in her eyes. She nodded, lying on the bed and sleeping once more.

The whole thing terrified him.

John retrieved his pad from the floor nearby and called Doctor Tabata. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m tending to the kitobora,” said the doctor.

“I need you here,” said John, rather insistently. “She’s getting worse.”

“It’s the fever,” said Tabata. “She’ll be fine. I checked her vitals a few hours ago.”

“Come on, Doc. Can you please get over here and take a look at her so I can relax? She’s been acting really strange.”

There was a short pause. “Very well, Lieutenant Finn. Give me ten minutes to finish what I’m doing.”

John sighed. “Thank you.”

He ended the call and sat there, staring, watching her sleep. He’d only been here for a few weeks, but already he wanted to go home. Take her in his arms and leave for Central.

But he knew he couldn’t. Mei would never give up. She would never stop trying.

What can I do?
He asked her silently.
Tell me what I’m supposed to do.

Tabata arrived soon and checked Mei’s vitals, taking her temperature and giving her another injection. John wanted to ask how the old man could be so confident. But Bart had said he was one of the best physicians around, so certainly he had to know a thing or two.

“How is she?” asked John, once the doctor was finished.

“The delirium you’ve seen is from the fever and the drugs,” he explained. “I’ve given her something to help her sleep. You were right to call me.”

John frowned. “She seemed fine before, walking around the camp until she just fell over. I don’t get it.”

“Her body is still reacting to the radiation poisoning. She was never fully recovered, despite being able to function and talk coherently. The fever could be a late symptom.”

“What if it’s an infection? Maybe she picked up a bug,” said John, who thought he knew a thing or two about that.

“Interesting,” said the doctor, tapping his chin. “It’s not unheard of for a patient who’s been exposed to radiation to develop an autoimmune disease. You could be right.”

“Can you test for it?”

“Not without a lab. We’d have to transport her to another outpost.”

“Isn’t there something we can do here?” asked John.

Tabata’s eyes dropped to the floor and stayed there for a while. “Do you know when she was last ill?”

John tried to remember, but couldn’t place it. He’d known Mei all her life or most of it, and aside from their exposures in the Chamber when they were children, he’d never seen her sick or displaying any symptoms. In fact, neither of them had. “No, she’s always been healthy, I think.”

“Interesting,” muttered Tabata.

“Why?”

The old man scratched his chin. “Apologies, I should be clearer. Neither of you have been ill, correct?”

John nodded. “Right.”

“I’m no William Archer, but if I had to guess I’d attribute this to your remarkable genes.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Normally, in response to radiation poisoning, one of the procedures is to perform a blood transfusion, which is typically done with Oxyblood, a synthetic blood replacement. They make it in the labs and store it at the various hospitals around the city as well as the outposts in case of emergencies. We have some here, actually, but I’ve been reluctant to use it.”

“Why?” asked John.

Tabata paused. “Because of what she is, frankly. The two of you…your bodies aren’t normal. There’s a fair chance a procedure like this could do more harm than good.”

John imagined Mei’s reaction to hearing this. She’d be annoyed as hell, probably insulted. She hated the idea of them being different from anyone else—of being nonhuman. It was a separation both she and John had largely chosen to ignore, but it was nonetheless true. Fundamentally, genetically, biologically, they were different. “So what do we do?”

Tabata thought for a moment. “Lieutenant, do you mind if I ask what blood type you have?”

John shrugged. “No one’s ever told me.”

Tabata pulled out his pad. “Don’t worry. It’s no matter. I can pull it up on the medical database. All citizen files include blood type.”

“Oh, boy,” said John.

“Ah, here we are,” exclaimed Tabata. “Type O. You’re a universal donor.”

“What about Mei?”

He tapped the screen a few times. “Seems she’s AB positive.”

Are those good things?” asked John.

“Good enough for our situation,” he said, smiling a little. “It means you can make a donation.”

John cocked his brow. “What?”

“Like I said before, one of the treatments for radiation poisoning is a blood transfusion, but since Oxyblood is specifically made for regular humans, we have no idea how someone like Doctor Curie would react to it. As such, it would be safer to perform a traditional transfusion with a compatible donor such as yourself.”

“But what if she has an infection, too?” asked John.

“If she has one, getting rid of the radiation will help her body fight the infection. Additionally, you each possess genetic qualities allowing you to heal faster. There is an added chance the healthy blood you donate could improve her recovery rate even more.”

“So no matter what, this will help her?”

“Probably,” said Tabata. “But there’s always a chance it might not do anything. Your bodies are uncharted territory as far as medical science goes.”

John didn’t even have to think about it. “I’m in,” he said with absolute certainty.

Tabata nodded. “Very well. I’ll get my tools and we can begin.”

******

John sat in his chair, watching the blood drain out of his arm and into a small box. A tube ran from the box into Mei’s arm. Imagining his blood circulating through her veins was a strange thought, but if this could help her, he didn’t mind. He only wanted her to be safe.

“The regulations on this say you shouldn’t do more than a single pint,” explained Tabata. “But we don’t have any other source to draw from, so if you think you can handle it afterwards, I’d like to try for two. Let me know if you feel sick or lightheaded.”

John nodded. The doctor had given him a sleeve of cookies and told him to eat. He was surprised, but didn’t ask questions. Food was food, and he wouldn’t complain, especially not about free cookies.

The transfusion was supposed to take approximately two hours. Tabata repeatedly checked Mei’s vitals and asked John how he felt. He said he was fine each time, but the words were slowly becoming a lie.

He decided it was better not to mention the fog forming in his head. He was no stranger to blood loss. He’d been stabbed and injured in the field several times, so he knew perfectly well how far his body could go before it gave out. Tabata was a doctor, though, and he’d probably stop the procedure if he suspected John felt sour.
Better to shut up and deal,
thought John, remembering the phrase Captain Thistle had often used. Shut up and deal, son. Ain’t no sense in complaining when the world’s all gone to Hell.

Ain’t that the truth? You always know what to say, boss.

Strap on your stick, and let’s go a-killin’. Hooah?

Hooah, boss.

John glanced at Mei. She was fast asleep, completely unaware of what he was doing. It was probably for the best. She’d call him an idiot for this and say he was being reckless.

Maybe she’d be right.
Good thing I’m too dumb to know better.

His tongue felt numb, and he smacked his lips. He took one of the cookies and bit into it, chewing for a few seconds before the crumbs fell out of his mouth.

Tabata noticed his sloppiness and spoke up. “Lieutenant Finn?”

John didn’t answer. He was getting sleepy.

The doctor snapped his fingers in front of John’s face. “Lieutenant? Can you hear me? I’m disconnecting you from the device.”

John tried to tell him not to do it, to keep this ride going because it was important. He knew where his limits were. But when he tried to say it, the only thing he could do was moan.

Then he passed out.

******

John awoke in the back of Mei’s tent, an I.V. in his arm. When everything came into focus, he saw Bart, Zoe, and Doctor Tabata staring at him.

“You moron,” said Zoe.

John blinked a few times, opening and popping his jaw. “What did I do?”

“What was your big plan?” she asked. “You give all your moron blood to Doctor Curie so she gets as stupid as you?”

“Wouldn’t be my worst idea,” he said, trying to force a smile.

Zoe threw her hands up, exasperated, and went to Mei’s bedside.

“Don’t mind her,” said Bart. “She’s upset for other reasons.”

John understood. Travis hadn’t been dead for more than a few days, so she was bound to be a little on edge. “What’s the diagnosis?” he asked.

“You’ll be fine,” said Tabata.

“I meant Mei,” he said.

“We won’t know for a while, but I’ll tell you when I do.”

“Thanks, Doc. You’re a lifesaver. Literally.”

Tabata nodded and walked away, taking a seat next to Mei’s bed.

“How you feeling?” asked Bart.

“Like someone hit me in the head with a pipe,” said John.

“Yeah, you look like it.”

“Thanks, buddy. Don’t you have some work to do?”

Bart shrugged. “I’m taking a break.”

“Sounds like slacking to me.”

“Says the guy in the bed.” Bart leaned in. “Seriously, you okay?”

“No need to worry.”

“Good,” said Bart, smiling. “On the plus side, I’m making some solid progress with those coils. By the time Curie gets back on her feet, I might have something to show her.”

“What about the radiation?” asked John.

“Oh, uh, Sophie’s in charge of the radiation problem.”

“Right, sorry,” said John. “I forgot.”

“No problem. Your head must still be fogged up.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” said Bart. “I gotta get back. Feel better.” He left the tent, and Zoe followed him. John turned to his side and closed his eyes. When he opened them, the daylight was gone and the tent was completely dark. Everyone had left.

Except Mei. She was still in the bed on the other side of the room. John sat up and twisted his feet around, touching the floor. He clumsily pushed himself off the bed and stumbled toward Mei’s side. When he found her bed, he eased himself onto it, sitting beside her waist.

She was fast asleep and breathing steadily. He watched silently, expecting her to open those gorgeous brown eyes at any moment and tell him everything was fine. She’d call him an idiot for the blood thing and he’d say she was a dork, and then they’d lie together and laugh about how silly the world could be.

He smiled and brushed her palm. She was so beautiful, but not for the usual reasons. She would never look like the girls in those old movies, covered in glamour and defined by her curves. Instead, it was her mind, her ideas, and her strength that set her apart. She was the girl who never gave up, who always had to understand the truth and get to the heart of things. She never asked for his protection, never cared for girly things. There was no shame in her, not for who she was or where she came from. She was beautiful for her brilliance, for the way she saw the world.

She was beautiful because she loved him.

He wondered when she would wake. Perhaps tomorrow? The day after? If things didn’t improve, would they have to move her to Komodo? Was she ever going to get out of this bed? He didn’t know if he could do this without her.

He trembled at the very idea, and after a moment, his face grew warm, and he wept. The tears dripped onto Mei’s waist, and he tried fruitlessly to wipe them from her sheet with his hands.