Second Chances (98 page)

“Oh. Not good,” Sandra said. “Let me see that,” she said, shifting to lean over Anne. Hejira waved a hand and then sent the file to the main screen.

Mitch, like a lot of them, couldn't help but stare and read the words before them. When it sunk in, he understood why Jolie was so green. The tiny rice-like eggs were like flatworms; they hatched in the intestinal track and latched onto the intestinal walls of the host. They fed off the host's food, rapidly expanding and taking the food away from the host.

The host's body reacted with its immune system which triggered the alien's final terrifying metamorphosis. It expanded, killing the host as it ruptured internal organs and stopped up the digestive system. It then laid seeds to a new plant to grow while feeding off the remains of the host. Eventually if another animal didn't come around to eat it, the xenoform would dry out and die.

Scavengers that came to feed on the dead host unwittingly picked up the eggs. The eggs would then hatch and expand the cycle continued.

“This thing sounds like a plant version of aliens,” Jolie said, shivering in atavistic terror.

“It's a xenoform, a very dangerous plant/animal hybrid just from the sound of it,” Hejira said. “This Doctor Pierre has done his homework. We should run this by Ducky though,” she said, looking over to Maggie. Maggie nodded.

“From the look of it, it doesn't like cold,” Janet said slowly. “He's done some tests. It likes tropical temperatures only; below 60 it goes dormant. It dies below freezing.” She shook her head. “That's odd,” she said.

“So, it's most active in warm climates. Warm seasons,” Maggie said. “I'm shooting this to Ducky now,” she said. “Why is it odd?”

“Because it can't handle freezing but it can handle stomach acid?” Janet asked.

“You'd be surprised Janet. A tape worm and some other parasites can handle stomach acid or high temperatures just fine. Some animals can handle high temps like around volcanic vents. Freezing is harder. A bugbear can handle it, but it has to squeeze the water out of its body and go dormant. These things don't have that ability, thank god,” Sandra said slowly. “The freezing water in their cells ruptures the cell walls killing them.”

“So, cooking them is out?” Janet asked. Sandra shook her head. Janet shivered.

“This is turning into a major breakout,” Jolie said, looking at Sandra as the other woman froze. “The Tropic Village has been attempting to get help but...well, the other communities are sympathetic, but don't want to get infected. They are effectively quarantined since they are so remote from everyone except Dunn and Crash Town. And Gunny Usher made it clear he's not letting any of them or their fruit in,” she said.

“Why didn't they stop eating it?”

“Apparently the stuff is addictive. Worse than crack cocaine or so Ed said. He's dead by the way,” Jolie said, nearly tearful. That stopped everyone cold. She nodded. “I found out this morning. That's why I brought it up. They've been calling us. I haven't responded.”

Everyone paused and then looked to Mitch. He flared his fingers on the table top and then drummed his fingers. He didn't respond though.

Sandra was instantly concerned, her medical training and empathy took over. She wanted to intervene under humanitarian grounds but knew the feelings for the community, and the timing were bad. She bit her lip as she rose from her seat. “I want to hear them,” she told Jolie. Jolie blinked at her. “Come on.”

Jolie looked at Mitch but he just spread his fingers again. She looked at Anne but Anne shrugged. “There is no harm listening,” Anne said. She looked at Mitch. Again, no response.

“I'm coming too. I'll let Ducky know. Can you pipe it in to his lab?” Hejira asked, getting up.

“If you don't mind, I'll pass,” Maggie said. “Give me the cliff note version so I know what to watch for with the animals and feed. But I just had that nice omelet, and it tasted better going down than it would ever coming up. Pass,” she said.

Hejira nodded as she pulled a bewildered Jolie to her feet and then pushed her out the door.

They found Doc in the radio room already seated trying to figure out the right channel. Jolie silently entered and flipped the radio to the proper channel. Doc nodded to her as the trio took their seats.

They listened to the radio pleas, feeling more and more helpless and getting increasingly angry over the feelings. Finally Sandra had had enough and picked up the microphone over Jolie's silent objections. Tersely and professionally Sandra had the young man put Doctor Pierre on the radio. He was called, and she listened as the distant doctor gave her a report in heavily accented French on the outbreak and what was happening.

“There is no need to quarantine; as I said it is transmitted orally from eating the fruit. My problem is finding a means to diagnose those who are infected and find an effective means of treatment. Anything you can think of would be of great help,” he said after a long moment.

“We have scorpions that do a similar thing. They lay eggs in the mouth.”

“We have them here too. In the dark areas.”

“We have to burn the bodies. Quickly, before the eggs hatch. I suggest you do the same. There is little you can do to treat those infected other than to ease their pain,” Sandra said with a painful sigh. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple, trying to think of something.

“What about an operation?” Doctor Pierre asked, sounding like he knew the answer already.

“If you know they are infected, it might be possible. With an endoscope and surgery, you might get some of the xenoform. I'm not sure how effective it would be,” Sandra said dubiously. “Even one overlooked could be deadly. And like the eggs of the scorpion, if they got into the bloodstream they could cause a stroke, embolism, or organ failure,” she warned.

“That...explains two of our most recent deaths. Strokes. I also had to amputate Andre's leg. He didn't survive very long afterward. I had thought at the time that he'd died from infection.”

“It may have been a combination of factors. Do you have an incubation time line?” Sandra asked. “Have you tested it in a lab or specimen? Checked to see what caused the growth?”

“Alas no, we lack such facilities,” the Doctor said with a hearty sigh.

“The best treatment is prevention. Don't eat the plants. Burn them back; get them away from your habitation. Use poisons, whatever you have available,” Hejira said firmly. “From what we were told, it is highly addictive. If it isn't available, you can't eat it,” she said firmly.

“Agreed. But not all agree that the fruit is a problem. They still insist on fermenting it,” Doctor Pierre said bitterly.

“Yves, you have to do it. Find every piece of fruit and burn them. Don't bury, burn. Get rid of all of it,” Sandra said firmly.

“It...is hard. I know a few people made fruit smoothies with ice and the fruit. They show no sign of infection.”

Mitch came in. He listened quietly, arms crossed. Hejira glanced his way a few times, but his red headed wife ignored him. Sandra discussed a diagnosis, treatment and prevention plan with the distant doctor. Finally she gave him a cool look but didn't object to his presence or eavesdropping.

“Please, we have no medical supplies...no means to diagnose the infected. Can you help us?” Pierre asked. At this request she finally glanced at her husband. He shook his head no. She frowned. “I can see if we can get some anthelmintics to you. I'm not sure what would be most effective, and since this is a xenoform you are dealing with, I don't know if any would be work at all to begin with. They may laugh at the treatment,” she said. “I'll...try to whip up the best one we can and get it to you. But you need to get more detail.”

“The problem is we don't know someone is infected until they have abdominal pain or migraines,” Yves said.

“Some patients with tapeworm showed signs of anemia,” Sandra replied. “I suggest you look for that. I'm not sure what else to tell you other than to get rid of that plant.”

“Can you come? I'm...I'm not sure if I am truly effective here. We may need to operate,” the doctor said. “We need all the help we can get.”

Sandra looked at Mitch but he set his jaw and shook his head vehemently no. She squeezed the trigger on the microphone and leaned forward. “I'll try to get something to you, no promises,” she choked out. She then signed off and looked defiantly at her husband. He sighed and walked out without a word.

------*------

They went to their suite to argue, silently agreeing it was best to keep their conflict private. He was quiet, intense. She was intensely unhappy about the potential of child victims. He was unhappy about that too but more unhappy about the fight with her. It was tearing both of them up. “They didn't cause this! They are victims here!” Sandra said plaintively. “Can't you see that??”

He inhaled and then exhaled slowly as she stared at him expectantly. “I know. I feel you. I feel for those kids, baby, honestly, I do. But their parents got them into this. They are feeding their children
poison
. You know that; I know that. For how long we don't know.” He threw his hands up in the air in disgust. “They aren't starving; we both know that. They got enough from us and were exporting all kinds of stuff. What I'm concerned about is did they just export the stuff we sent them? Is this parasite in that food?”

That made her pale a bit. He nodded slowly. “That's right. It could be. We need to find out. But we also need to understand a lot more could be happening and we don't have the answers.”

“But we can try,” she whispered. “Try to help.”

“Find out if we've got an isolated problem or the start of a major outbreak,” he told her. “See if they fed their people the alien food and stockpiled the other stuff or what? Did they export this fruit too?” He mused.

She frowned and then shrugged. “We'll find out.”

“Right. But that brings up another question. Is this a trick?” he asked, looking at her. “Think about it. What we do know is they were smug about pulling one over on us; now they
need
us and are pissed because we said no. Is this a trick to get us to let them back in? A manufactured crisis?”

“Mitch! How could anyone...”

“We're here! They are there! We don't know! Not for sure! All the information we have is what they are telling us over the radio!”

“Which is why I need to go and see for myself!”

“And put your neck on the line?” he demanded.

“If that's what it takes!”

“Sandra,” he stopped and took a deep breath and then let it out, trying to keep his instinctive panic and anger at her welfare in check. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...” he shrugged and shook his head. “We can't trust them.”

“I'm going,” she said, eyes challenging him. She headed for the door, but he stepped in front of her. “Get out of my way,” she growled.

“You can do what you want,” he said, looking down at her defiant face. He felt his heart twist but he had to remain firm. “But the equipment remains
here
. You can take replaceable supplies. A
limited
amount. That's it. Oh, and you can hitch a ride on a dino. The planes are busy,” he said firmly. “
All
of them.”

Her eyes flashed at him. “Damn you, Mitch Chambers! How can you be so cold!” She pounded on his chest.

He caught her right fist, made her uncurl her hand then kissed her fingers. She cried. He sighed. “I'm sorry. But I'm not kidding; the planes aren't here. They are out and about. That wasn't me being a bastard,” he said. “Honest. The closest is Angie. She's flying in from East right now. When she gets here we'll talk more.”

She looked at him, then sighed. Finally she nodded.

------*------

Jolie quietly reported the next morning during their department meeting that no fresh parasites had been discovered in the crops and food products that had been imported from the Tropics in other communities. Apparently Colonel Dunn had been working on a deal to take a shipment of fruit but Ciara had turned it down when the outbreak had become public.

“Well, that's a relief,” Anne said, looking at Sandra. She could feel the frisson between Mitch and Sandra. She sat back, looking at them. After a moment Mitch gave a choppy nod. “What's next?” Anne asked, turning to Bob.

“Excuse me,” Sandra said softly, getting up and leaving. Mitch looked away as she left. Anne looked at him then to Bob. Bob cleared his throat and then went on to report how the chemical works was doing. Barely anyone listened, all deep within their own thoughts.

------*------

When an aircraft came in, Mitch relented. Angie shook her head though when Sandra came over with her bag. “What?” Sandra demanded.

“I can take the medicine or you, Doc, not both,” The pilot said, holding up a restraining hand. “We'll be well into the reserves as is. I'm sorry. If the plane was bigger...had more fuel capacity...” she shook her head and then shrugged.

Doc looked down and then nodded. “The medicines,” she murmured.

Mitch helped them load. There were two duffels and a couple packages wrapped in plastic. He transferred the cargo of medication Doc specified with printed instructions. Angie had them pull out the spare seats and equipment to lighten the load. “I know I'm light but every pound is critical here,” she said. Mitch nodded.