Amish Vampires in Space (42 page)

As for the rest—Greels and the others—she’d sent them away. Whatever was causing these behavioral changes, it wasn’t a virus. Not in the normal sense. She checked the air around the young lady Candle again and again. Nothing airborne. Nothing unusual. The ship’s filtration should wipe out anything unusual anyway. Keep anything from spreading. She’d been nervous before. Overreacted. No need for masks and gowns. No need to have so many people around either. She liked to think alone.

She’d also determined that there was no danger of incidental contact spreading the “disease,” either through touch or trace bodily fluids. It didn’t appear to be happening that way. But clearly
something
was happening.

Darly straightened herself, felt the tightness in her back from stooping. Candle was still unconscious. She was strapped to the examination table, now configured so it paralleled the floor. The examination room remained clean and uncluttered. Darly had a rolling equipment rack with her. It had many compartments. Categorized. Alphabetized. Scientific.

The results of her initial biopsies were bizarre. She’d tested samples of the liver, lungs, and skin. The cells had seemed grossly cancerous. Altered to the point of being non-functional. Yet, they did function. She could see the woman breathing right now. Inhaling and exhaling. Before being tranquilized, she had asked for food repeatedly. Seemed ravenous.

One thing Darly had a theory on was why the scanner malfunctioned. Candle’s organs, especially the lower levels of skin, had somehow become coated with a substance that obscured the image. A metalloid of some sort. A base element. She needed a specific test to determine which one, though.

Frowning, she reached into the second level of her equipment rack and drew out a slender, finger-sized analyzer. She held it up to the light to make sure it was set correctly. On the top of her rack was a portion of the skin sample in a petri dish. She opened that dish and brought the analyzer to it. It beeped to show it had detected the sample.

Her med pad was on the equipment rack, as well. After a few seconds it chimed with an indicator of the analyzer’s result. A picture shaped like the miniature analyzer appeared. She touched it and squinted at the results. Brought her head back, surprised.

“Arsenic? But nothing could live with that much in their system.”

She stared at the patient again. Shook her head. Time for more exhaustive measures.

• • •

An hour later, Darly’s stomach reminded her how hungry
she
was.

She’d had to dig a bit to find the equipment she needed. Had to search every cabinet. Ultimately she was surprised to even find it. The main scanner had superseded so many pieces of equipment. Made them redundant or obsolete. Normally, ships like the
Raven
wouldn’t have anything else. In that case, she might have had to actually revert to using a scalpel and forceps.

Imagine that! Blood on the gloves!

She did find what she was looking for, though: a self-propelled micro scanner system. It came in a white textured case with its own handle. Its own readout screen. It was so old it didn’t even sync with her med pad. Archaic, but still useful. Still within her knowledge base.

She set the case on the top shelf of her equipment rack and opened it. Brought out the triangular applicator. Turned it a few times with her fingers. It had a slot for the injectable probe on the back. She found a couple of those sealed in plastic. She tore one open. It was pill-shaped and green. But she knew that was only an additional case. The probe was near-microscopic. She loaded the “pill” into the machine.

The door slid open behind her and Dixon timidly stuck his head in. “Our other patient is up,” he said. “Our security guard. He wants to go.”

Darly said nothing. Patted the applicator in her hand, thinking.

“I scanned him twice,” Dixon said. “Checked all his vitals. He’s healthy.” A smile. “Healthier than I’ve ever been.”

Darly nodded. “He can go. Just tell him to keep his com on.”

Dixon dipped his head and backed out. Closed the door.

Darly frowned, shook her head. She leaned over the equipment rack to where her med pad lay. Candle’s vitals were displayed there. The pulse was faster than it should be for someone at rest, but that hadn’t changed. The patient’s temperature was wrong too. Too hot.

More mysteries. She checked the applicator one last time, then took Candle’s hand and turned it so the veins of her right arm were exposed. She lined the applicator up with the largest of these, pressed the button at her thumb. There was a brief hissing sound as the probe entered Candle’s bloodstream.

Darly reached into the case again and took out the square monitoring device. Already, readings were being listed there: internal temperature, pressure, vascular elasticity. Important components of the bloodstream. To the left of the listings was a rectangular visual display of the inside as the probe swam. It was reddish, but a much darker red than she expected. Lots of black flakes.

What has happened to you, Candle?

The first thing Darly was curious about was the digestive system. One of the others—Greels, maybe—had said something about consuming blood.

Hematophagy wasn’t uncommon in the animal world. Some of the most resilient mammals and insects—the mosquito, for instance—subsisted on blood. Though she didn’t like to ruminate on it, blood was a highly efficient food source. It was filled with proteins and lipids, and it required very little effort to procure. Just locate a vein, open it, and drink. Much quicker than the usual skinning, tearing, and chewing. Or in the case of humans, the hours of intricate preparation. Compared to every other species, humans were notoriously slow eaters. Especially when you factored in the hunting and gathering time.

Finally, the probe reached the lower intestine. It worked its way slowly up, mapping and processing. Just like the planetary landers that had been used for early space exploration. The readings here were still unusual. Too hot, too fast, too high.

Next came the upper intestine. The probe swam its way through the twisted twenty feet. Continued to map and quantify.

Darly hoped to see something important. To get some overall picture of the system. The software in these old scanners wasn’t as good at that. Of drawing a large overview. But she was hopeful.

The scanner reached the stomach. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much unusual there either, other than more indications of a heightened metabolism. A faster rate. Straight absorption into the stomach walls.

She twisted her lips. Thought for a moment. Blood. Dare she try to introduce some? See what happened? She looked at the patient again. Short dark hair. Still breathing heavily. Still under strong sedation.

The captain had said to learn whatever she could… There would be no danger in trying.

Darly stood and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a sample of clean plasma in a sealed bag. She loaded another probe, but this time with a drop of the plasma to be carried along within the case. She sent the probe into the body. Watched it. Guided it to the stomach. Dispersed the tiny amount of fluid.

Absorption was almost instantaneous. Not like a human digestive system at all.

So, hematophagy?

Darly picked up her med pad. Squinted at it. She then pushed the medical functionality to the side of the pad’s void and accessed one of the ancillary functions. Veterinarian functions. She wanted to see how hematophagy played out in mammals. There were very few mammals that subsisted through blood digestion, of course. She made a quick scan of those. Her eyes stopped on one entry:

“…the blood plasma is quickly absorbed through the stomach walls. This allows the animal to quickly shed the weight of the liquid nourishment in order to take flight…”

She thought for a moment. Glanced at the micro scanner screen again. Could that be what was going on here? The sort of digestive specialization that was seen in animals like the vampire bat?

And what part could arsenic play? Aside from fouling up the scanner?

Darly straightened again. Fought her ever-tightening back. Winced. She crossed the room to the cupboards and leaned against the counter there. Brought up her med pad. Performed another search. She knew arsenic was a poison, of course. But it had other uses certainly. She browsed through the search results. A couple items stood out.

“…at non-toxic levels, can serve as a mild stimulant…”

“…aids in respiration…”

The first item was from a section describing historic uses of the element. The second, from a biology discussion on rare forms of bacteria. Both seemed relevant to what she was seeing. The patient clearly was stimulated.

Darly fought back a yawn. Checked the time on her med pad. Shook her head. Speaking of needing stimulants. Whew. She wondered if the nurses had left coffee on when they’d left. She set her medical pad on the counter. Looked at the patient again. Perhaps she should take a break. She would perform better with a little time away. She’d heard nothing from the group of Amish, so she assumed they’d been reassigned and hadn’t had any injuries after all. The situation seemed to be contained. Controlled.

She checked the time again. She should call Dixon back. Let him mind the shop while she slept. But there were answers here. More to discover.

Perhaps that coffee. She walked to the door. Opened it.

And was surprised.

They rode the slideway in silence for some time.

To his right, Jebediah watched as they passed one barn-sized room after another. Most were darkened, but there was enough light to tell that they were completely filled with sealed packages. All white. So many boxes. So many material possessions. More than he’d ever seen in one place. All going somewhere. To some planet equally filled with possessions, no doubt. He was amazed the spheres could still keep spinning with all that weight on them.

God’s handiwork was amazingly versatile. Incredibly robust.

He shook his head. Thought of Sarah again. All by herself. He needed to get back. He turned to the male security guard. “How much longer do we have?”

The guard made a quick check behind them at the rest of the group. All were quiet and morose. Most stared off to the side as Jeb had done. “Not much longer,” he said then.

Jebediah feigned a smile. “I would like more specifics, son. I have a pregnant wife to return to.”

The guard frowned. “We’ll take the next cross slide to the other side of the
Raven
. Then back toward the rear, past the odd-numbered bays.”

“And then?”

The guard turned away, fixing his eyes on the slide ahead. “Then we’ll take you to the designated area.”

“This cafeteria?” Jeb said.

The guard didn’t turn his head. Just nodded.

Jeb frowned. Glanced at the view to their right again. Found himself wishing for the views of Alabaster. Even at night. The Nebbit. “Don’t you folks miss the sky?” he asked.

The guard glanced at him again. Grunted. “We see some while we’re loading and unloading.” He bobbed his head. “Most of the bay ceilings open. We can see stars, suns, whatnot.”

“But that’s only when you’re stopped.”

“Yeah, we have furloughs. Vacations. Spent my last on Sperg. Went skiing.”

“But the trips are long.” Jeb indicated the ceiling. “Why not at least see where you’re going?”

The guard grunted again. “There’s nothing out there to see now, Mr. Miller. Just a mass of grey. A fog. Makes people crazy.”

Jeb heard a snort from behind them and turned to see Samuel wiping his eyes with a white handkerchief. He repositioned the cloth and blew his nose into it. Put the rag away. His eyes were ringed in red. And still looked wet.

Mark was standing next to Samuel. He gave him a long look. “Are you all right, Bishop?”

Samuel took a long breath. Paused. “I apologize.” He shook his head slowly. “We have lost much. Clearly I didn’t seek the Lord as I should have.”

Mark shook his head. “There was no way of knowing it would come to this. We made the best decision we could, given the knowledge we had.”

“Perhaps if we’d stayed…” Samuel gazed in Jeb’s direction. Looked more sorrowful. “Yet we have found the trials of Job, Deacon. The trials of Job.”

The lights of a slide stop became evident ahead. Jeb tried to focus on that.

The guard nodded. “We’re getting off here.”

• • •

The captain was beginning to feel nervous. He found himself pacing his office. Studying the plaques on the wall. Standing long minutes over the aquarium of his spliced lizard frog. Watching as it circled the water portion, pointed nose moving this way and that, searching for the food Seal floated for it.
Flick, flick, chomp.

He needed to do something, he was certain. There were too many variables now. It was an unmanageable ledger. An entire bay lost? To an infection of some sort? And the pilots! Why weren’t they answering?

Don’t go anywhere
, Darly had said. What did that mean? What were they facing?

Then there was Singer. What to do about her? She was attractive and clever. Intelligent. Someone he could absolutely spend time away from his desk with. But her beliefs—founded centuries ago? How did they mix with the rest? And could they possibly be relevant?