Wednesday
0645
McCoy came to work a little early, he wanted to do a little research before he started his discussion with the lab about the vaccinations. There were three gamma shift yeomen in the waiting area when he arrived. They all greeted him enthusiastically. He grunted and hurried past. He wondered if there were actual recruiting standards for yeoman. All of them, male and female, all species, even the non-humanoid ones, were chipper, happy souls. He found it exhausting to speak to them. He definitely needed coffee before he tried.
0820
McCoy consulted with M'Benga about Jamen's nose. They stood next to the young man and looked from his face, surrounded by skin rejuvenators, to his image on his ID and the holos supplied by his many friends.
"I think you're going to have enough tissue to work with by this evening. Maybe schedule him for surgery first thing in the morning?" M'Benga said.
"That's what I was thinking." McCoy said.
"How's it look?" Jamen asked nervously.
"Fine." McCoy said.
M'Benga said in his kind way, "It looks great Bobo. You have already replaced quite a bit of the skin that was removed. The colors are wonderful. When Dr. McCoy is finished, you won't be able to tell this ever happened."
Jamen gave McCoy a skeptical look and then turned to M'Benga. "Can't you do the surgery?" he asked.
M'Benga said quickly, "Dr. McCoy is more familiar with Tridish anatomy. You want the surgeon with the most experience doing your reconstruction Bobo. And I am the scheduled physician for gamma shift, anything could happen tonight. You want your surgeon to be well rested. I will be there to assist, and I am looking forward to checking in after the procedure and seeing you look like yourself."
"Okay, sure, I guess." Jamen said unenthusiastically, giving McCoy another skeptical look.
They returned to the desk and McCoy sat down to make his notes on Jamen's record. He could hear M'Benga visiting with the nurses and some of the yeomen. They sounded like cheerful, chirping birds. He shifted his chair so as to be a little further away from the noise.
On his way out of the unit M'Benga stopped and asked, "Leonard, I wondered if I might have a word?"
McCoy looked up. "Sure," he said. "What's up?"
The other man sat down next to him, gave one of his big, sympathetic smiles and said, "I hope you know that I think you are an excellent physician Leonard."
McCoy nodded. "And I you." he said.
"This is not meant in any way as a criticism of any of your work. However, it occurs to me that you might consider being a little more encouraging of the patients, especially the younger ones. A smile can go a long way."
"Here's the deal." McCoy said. "When I look at Jamen's face I get mad. It is all I can do to not start screaming at the top of my lungs for Treos. I want to shove him and his entire robot brigade into the closest airlock for what they did to that young man."
M'Benga nodded gravely. "I understand, but I don't think Mr. Jamen does. A smile and perhaps some casual conversation might make it clearer to him that you are concerned about his welfare."
McCoy considered saying something about how many times he had received this particular piece of advice. But Geoffrey M'Benga was a kind man, and an excellent physician, and McCoy knew that he wasn't the easiest person to approach with advice, so instead he said, "I realize this was difficult for you to say, and I appreciate it. I will try to keep it in mind."
"It is the mark of a good man that he can accept advice." M'Benga said, patting McCoy's arm. McCoy controlled the urge to yank it away.
One of the nurses hurried in with a pile of PADDs. She set them on the desk. M'Benga gave her a big smile, which she returned. McCoy was conscious of the other man watching him. He sighed and then sat up straighter. He stretched his mouth into what he hoped was a welcoming grin. The nurse looked at him doubtfully and left quickly, almost running to the exam rooms.
M'Benga shrugged. McCoy returned his attention to his PADD. Chapel stepped through the doors from the back rooms. She looked at McCoy critically.
"Leonard," she said, "are you alright? Shernan said you looked like you were in horrible pain out here."
1110
In an effort to remind him to stay immobile, McCoy put Meyer in a far more restrictive brace than he actually needed. Then he sent him to his room with strict instructions to stay there except for meals. Meyer nodded and signed the discharge instructions without seeming to pay much attention. McCoy felt certain they would be seeing him again soon.
He had a visit with Gouyen, who had not had another arrhythmia. He told him he would need a complete study of his cardiac function, which would take a few days to set it up. He might have been able to get it done more quickly, but really, he wanted to Gouyen to rest, and didn't want to subject either of them to the exam rooms while they were over run with yeomen.
There were no new admissions, so he went to help with the physicals. But Chapel said he should go eat first, that the staff was taking staggered breaks and they would need him more later. He decided to go to the mess for lunch. He had a salad and water. As usual, he was discouraged by the number of crew members stuffing themselves with carbohydrates.
As he was leaving he ran into Scotty, whose company he always enjoyed. He was initially sorry not to have timed his meal so that they could eat together. But a glance at the engineer's tray full of fried fish and potatoes changed his mind. He went back up to the unit.
When he walked in he could hear laughing and loud voices from the exam rooms. During physicals, they pushed all the dividers back and the individual exam rooms became a large exam suite. It was always crowded and the noise carried through the whole unit. Curious, he went back to see what was happening. The captain had arrived in his absence, and had brought in a very large platter of the worst snacks and several pitchers of juices and coffee. The hordes of yeomen seemed to be enjoying the treats. The nurses too seemed very happy, although Chapel must have been at lunch, she was nowhere to be seen. Jim was in the middle of things, laughing and teasing, enthusiastically accepting thanks. It was a circus. He went back out to the admitting desk.
1330
He was sitting at the desk, surreptitiously playing bridge on his PADD, when a young man in a red shirt entered med bay. He was clutching a blood-soaked rag to his face. He walked up to the desk and said, "I dink my ose ay be broke."
"Yeah, and I think you may have lost a couple teeth." McCoy said rising and moving the rag. "Any idea where they might be?"
"On the flooh?"
"On the floor where? Back in security?" McCoy asked. The young man nodded. McCoy led him back toward the exam rooms. Chapel saw them coming and dispatched a young man to help. The nurse brought in a rejuv unit. McCoy helped the patient to the bed and went to wash his hands. When he returned, the nurse had the patient in a gown and medicated.
The nurse smiled and said, "This is Mr. Goj doctor. He claims to have slipped while in the changing room in security and hit his head on a bench. He has a broken nose, two missing front teeth, and a black eye. Interestingly, the injuries on his face form a rather boot like pattern. He also has bruises on his legs and arms, he is uncertain where they came from. He thinks perhaps from his fall."
"His fall huh, who were you fighting with Goj?"
"I wasn't fighting sir."
"You were fighting." McCoy said. He wondered why people insisted on pretending they weren't fighting. The entire ship was under surveillance at all times, it was virtually impossible to get away with anything. Beings who worked security certainly knew that. He did not ordinarily contradict patient's accounts of their injuries, unless he suspected outright abuse. He wanted the crew willing to seek medical care. He let the division heads be in charge of discipline, but he did not like to be lied to.
He checked the name tag on the nurse and said, "Lt. Brown, call down to security and have them look for a couple teeth. Resetting them is much easier than regrowing them. I'll set up the equipment here."
I took almost an hour, but eventually Goj's nose was set and his teeth were reinserted. He lay under the rejuvenator and dozed comfortably. He had maintained steadfastly that his injuries were from a fall.
14:30
McCoy took a deep breath to prepare himself for the chaos, and then walked into the exam rooms. There were perhaps a dozen young crew members in the room, half a dozen nurses, and Chapel. He saw Treos's robots, but not the scientist.
They did physicals the same way every month. There was a station set up for each system of the body. Each station could handle up to three patients at a time. If everything ran smoothly each physical was completed in an hour or less. It was very noisy, because there were always at least two patients on the exercise machines at all times. And the yeomen, being the yeomen, had to call encouragement to each other as they worked. There was a great deal of clapping as individuals finished their fitness evaluations. McCoy had to bite his lip to keep himself from reminding the whole gang they were applauding people meeting minimum fitness requirements. No one was doing anything extraordinary. At least, he reminded himself, it was quieter than when it was security division's turn for physicals. They treated the fitness assessments as a challenge. They tried to top each other's performance and teams formed with chanting and fist pounding. The yeomen were at least cheery.
As soon as an individual made their way through all the stations they were finished, and free to go. Part of the problem with doing physicals is that division members enjoyed being together so much that they never hurried out. Between the machines, the voices, and the sheer numbers the exam room was loud.
McCoy picked up a PADD and took over for one of the nurses at the input section. It was the first station, it appeared to the patients that it was an entry into the system. It did serve that purpose, but it was also a low-level psych evaluation. Patients were asked about stress and life satisfaction. People who said anything alarming got flagged for a full evaluation at a later date.
McCoy's first patient was a shy little thing, from Savannah, so they had plenty to talk about. He spent a very pleasant twenty minutes with her before he sent her on her way. His next patient was a young man who had been raised on a colony in the farthest reaches. McCoy found that fascinating, and they talked awhile too. His next candidate was the captain's personal yeoman, Janice Rand.
He did the initial input work, asked all the standard questions and then added, "Are you off today?"
"No, but he's playing cribbage with the security guard with the broken nose so I thought I could at least get this started." Rand replied.
"The captain?" McCoy asked. Rand nodded. McCoy was surprised. Jim visited sick bay at least once daily, and he often stopped off to chat with the patients, but he was usually too busy to stay long enough to do more than exchange pleasantries.
"How's he have time for that?" he asked. Rand was responsible for organizing the captain's day. She didn't have to follow him around, she had plenty of other responsibilities to occupy her, but Jim really preferred a fly by the seat of his pants management style, and sometimes it required a great deal of effort to see that he met the regulation requirements for bookkeeping. McCoy did not envy Rand her work.
She said, "We have at least three more days of travel time till we reach our next mission. The bridge crew doesn't need him up there constantly. I mean how many times can he say, 'keep flying guys?'."
McCoy laughed. Rand was an anomaly in the corp. She looked the part, petite and blonde, but no one would have called her chipper. McCoy wondered if she had started out happy go lucky and the constant strain of keeping their captain on task had broken her. He knew Chapel was very fond of the girl, and Christine did not tolerate fools. He imagined it would be difficult to be both capable and ignored. He knew nothing angered him more than the captain's ability to do exactly as he wished without considering the consequences. Rand never looked effervescent, but she seemed to do alright with the stress, she ate, had friends. But perhaps she hid it. He decided to probe a little more deeply for signs of depression.
"Sulu's probably openly encouraging him to go visit the sick by this point." McCoy said.
Rand smiled, and said, "He usually sends him to engineering, because Mr. Scott never throws him out, and eventually you always do."
"True," laughed McCoy, "maybe I should start thinking of the rest of the crew and just let him stay as long as he wants."
"No need to sacrifice yourself doctor. I have already made plans for our leader's afternoon anyway."
"What?" McCoy asked a little uncertainly.
"When he finishes here he'll want a little lunch for himself, and then to go up to the bridge. When he gets there, he will lean back in his chair, feeling like he's master of the universe. He will feel so good that when I hand him just one little PADD for his signature, he'll do it. He has no way of knowing that I have preloaded that baby with everything he has ignored for the last month. And once he's begun, he's mine. He will be hearing and signing every report he has put off and no one is going to rescue him. I already told the bridge crew they better ignore any hints he makes for distraction or they will be answering to me. Nyota's on my side, and Spock probably agrees too. Sulu's the only one I worry about. I told him, if he interrupts me, it better be for a catastrophe."
"What about Chekov?" McCoy asked.
Rand snorted, her perfect little doll like lips tightening with contempt. "Chekov's no problem. He's afraid of me."
'I am a little afraid of you,' thought McCoy. "Um, Janice, what would you do if for some reason you couldn't get caught up with the work? Do you have any contingency plans?" He tried to think of a nice way to ask if she would get violent.
"Don't worry doctor, I don't need contingencies. Wait, are you afraid I would actually hurt him? Oh, you are! Ha! Look at me doctor, do I look like I would hurt anyone?" She smiled at him, clear blue eyes wide and innocent.
"No, but the question is, would you?" McCoy asked.
Rand laughed. "Of course not doctor." McCoy started to make a note on her file and then she added, "If he was hurt he wouldn't be able to write his name and we would only get further behind."
McCoy looked up with alarm. She laughed musically and said, "Teasing! I'm teasing Dr. McCoy. I had no idea you were so sensitive. I would never hurt anyone, and I would especially never hurt Captain James T. Kirk, galactic hero. I promise."
McCoy cleared his throat and then said, "Well Janice, good luck with your plan, now you know you can come talk to us if you begin to get feeling too frustrated with your work, right?"
"Frustrated? Why would I get frustrated? The best part of this job is figuring out how I am going to get it done. And doctor, I've never failed to get it done." She licked her lips and leaned back in her chair. Her expression made McCoy think of a lioness, surveying her pride.
"Okay, well, why don't you go on over to the lab station then. Hopefully we get you right through this and back to work on time." McCoy said, making a notation on Rand's chart to remind him to discuss the young woman with Chapel. Rand smiled sweetly and went on her way. McCoy watched her go, wishing he had more of a gift with psychology. He sighed and turned to meet his next patient. Sitting in front of him was John Treos.
"Leonard, hello." the man said happily, spreading his arms as if he were surrendering. McCoy said nothing. "Listen. I heard you wanted to talk to me, and I have been looking forward to it, but I have had so much to do and I think even you are going to have to admit that it was time well spent, I mean, look around, my patient care units are invaluable today." He gestured towards the robots, one was working in fitness assessment, and one was taking vitals.
McCoy did not turn to look. He narrowed his eyes and continued to stare at Treos.
"All programs have glitches Leonard. That is why they need to be tested." Treos said.
"Glitches? Did you say glitches? He's Tridish. The frills on their nose develop at adolescence. They are signs of sexual maturity. He considers what happened to be mutilation John, that is not a glitch. That is torture. It was gross medical malpractice for you to fail to supervise those things. I hope he sues you."
"He's a member of Starfleet, and I am operating under its jurisdiction. He can't sue."
"Which probably explains why you are testing out those things here."
"I resent that Leonard. I have a vision, and the brass supports me in it. It is technology based and mistakes are going to happen. I believe my work will help health care workers, and the galaxy's under served populations. I have no other motives."
"I want you off my ship."
"With all due respect, that isn't your decision. I think you should reread your orders. Starfleet has invested a great deal in my research, testing it is the next stage. The surgeon general is as excited as I am to see the final results. Even you have to admit my patient care units have performed admirably today."
"I admit nothing. They haven't caused obvious problems, but they've done nothing a first-year nursing student couldn't do, and we don't need to watch the students to make sure they don't mutilate the patients."
"You are making this far worse than it is. Mr. Jamen's nose was badly damaged in his fall. The unit assessed what tissue was there and made a decision based on what it saw, just as any being would do. You were going to be doing some reconstruction surgery no matter what."
"A doctor would do some research before it began cutting."
"And now the robots will too."
"You expect me to congratulate you on that?"
"I don't care. I want us to have a collegial, mutually supportive relationship," Treos continued, "but I will be satisfied if you stay out of my way while I finish my research."
McCoy scowled scornfully. "I am not done with this Teos. I do not want to have this out in front of so many people, but I am filling out every complaint I can against you. I have already sent off a letter of concern to headquarters."
"Fine, but until we hear back from them my research is still priority one and for the duration I am still in charge of it." Treos smiled kindly and added, "To show you how seriously I want to be a team player, I have been trying to help out with work that isn't useful to me. I have some news for you."
"What is that?" McCoy asked without much interest.
"While I was out at the desk, one of your patients bounced back. Some guy named Meyer? His hand is bothering him. Oh, and Mr. Goj woke up so I discharged him."
McCoy jumped up. "You discharged Goj while Meyer was in the waiting area? You are an idiot Treos."
"What now?" asked Treos. "How can that possibly be a problem?"
"Chapel," McCoy yelled, "Call security. We are going to need a show of force in admitting. Tell Giotto he probably needs to come in person." Then he charged from behind the desk and ran to the admitting area. Treos trailed behind him, still talking.
It was as he had feared. Goj and Meyer were a punching, angry ball. They separated only long enough to grab furniture to hit each other with before grabbing each other again and rolling on the floor. McCoy yelled, "Knock it off." The fight didn't even slow down.
Treos tried to get behind and grab either of the two men. They shook him off easily.
"Stay back Treos, you're only going to get hurt." McCoy said. Meyer was using his brace to pound on the top of Goj's head, while Goj kicked at Meyer's legs. The captain ran into the room. McCoy put out a restraining hand and said, "Don't Jim, if either one of them accidentally hit you Giotto would court martial them. Security is on the way, just let them handle it."
The captain looked a little disappointed, but nodded, and stepped back to watch. Goj was bleeding again and Meyer's brace was disintegrating. The fight slowed down as the men got tired, the punches, though less frequent, were better placed. The grunts and thuds were accompanied by gasps from the members of the yeomen's corps, now assembled around the door and watching the fight.
The turbolift opened and six huge security guards sprinted out, followed closely by Lieutenant Commander Giotto. He took two steps into the room and bellowed, "Attention!" Both combatants froze and then jumped to attention.
"Enough." barked Giotto. You are both going to the brig and then on report."
"I am going to need to look at their injuries first." McCoy said.
"How do you want to do this?" Giotto said.
"I'll take both, but let's not put them in the same room." McCoy said.
"Fine, I want two on each of these idiots the whole time they are under the doctor's care. The minute McCoy clears them bring them down to the brig. Mac, Rudolph, you two fix this mess. Lie, Hendorff, escort Mr. Goj to an exam room. Puj, Logan, you take Meyer. Goj, Meyer, you better hope the doctor says you're sick, cause once he okays it, I am going to make you sorry."
Two of the red shirted young men grabbed an unprotesting Meyer. McCoy pulled some curtains and made an exam room. He sent Goj and two more officers to the back of the room with instructions to do the same. The last two security men began to collect the displaced furniture and return it to the proper place.
McCoy looked around the packed admitting area. He said, "I got Meyers. Treos, make yourself useful, check on Mr. Goj. If you insist on using those toys of yours you better double check their diagnoses and plans. I am holding you personally responsible for anything that happens. Miss Chapel, why don't you go with him and prevent him from doing anything too stupid. I am down the hall, call me if he suggests anything even remotely invasive. Brown, you are with me. The rest of you, finish the physicals, and do it quietly." He stomped off down the hall, already thinking what he would need to do for Meyer.
2020
McCoy let his office door seal behind him. He took a look into the exam rooms, there was one yeoman running on the exercise track, and one getting some blood work done. They both smiled and waved at him. The nurse working the room looked over his shoulder, saw McCoy and smiled too. McCoy grunted and started to the turbolift.
He could have left earlier, but had gone to the lab to check for progress on the vaccine. He had started talking with one of the chemists, Lieutenant Lariss. She was an amazing scientist. Although she had agreed with Chapel that it was not necessary, she had already formulated a new vaccine that worked in simulation. She would try more tests tomorrow, and perhaps give it to Chekov in the evening. It had been fascinating to hear explain her work. Sometimes McCoy missed research, seeing problems fixed appealed to him, that was why he had become a surgeon.
The lift doors opened and Jim stepped out. He grinned and said, "Hey Bones, I was looking for you. I stopped by your quarters, you weren't there."
"No captain, I was not there."
"Want to get a beer?"
"I'll get a bourbon, you can get a beer."
"Good enough, officer's club?"
They found seats at the bar. The crew members around them greeted them politely, and then drifted away. The crew tended to give Jim privacy. McCoy had worried about that at first. Jim was still young, and he was very personable. At the academy, he had always been the life of every party. He worried that Jim found command isolating, a captain inherently had no peers aboard a ship. Jim seemed to be flourishing in his role, but McCoy still wasn't sure it was good for him. Whenever Jim appeared like this, all alone and asking McCoy to join him, he went.
Jim seldom had anything important to say on these little jaunts, he usually preferred to sip his drink and listen. McCoy always figured what the captain really wanted was the chance to pretend he was still a guy who could walk into a bar and do whatever he wanted.
Jim was easy to talk to, he was interested in everything. He asked about McCoy's day and listened carefully to an explanation of Lariss' research. She had been unable to find a good reason for the robot's refusal to inoculate Chekov. She thought it was possible its programming had looked for common components of the drugs on his intolerance list, and finding none, had deduced he was allergic to the base used for all hypos.
"So now he can't have any hypos? Why didn't I think of that! How do I go about developing one of these allergies? It can't be from exposure, I've had way more shots than him." said Jim.
"You've had more hypos than anyone, probably more than anyone in the history of hypos. And he can have them, it isn't a real allergy. Treos's idiot machines made a mistake. Another mistake, so that's two in one day. I believe that means I can send off another comm to headquarters." McCoy took a big drink and added, "If you don't want to get hypos stop getting hurt."
The captain slammed his beer to the table and said, "Bones! That's it, I will stop getting hurt. I have been wondering how I could spend less time with doctors for years and you clear it up in one sentence, stop getting hurt. You are a genius Dr. McCoy."
"You are a smart-ass Captain Kirk."
"I have a plan! I will instruct my yeoman to remind me every morning not to get hurt. Maybe I will have a little sign hung in the transporter room. I can't believe you've solved this problem for me."
"I can't believe we are having this discussion."
"I can, what else are we going to discuss? We've got a new mission, but if I try to talk about it you will just interrupt me to mention how dangerous absolutely everything even remotely interesting about it is."
"If you considered these things for yourself I wouldn't need to mention them. And you never listen anyway."
"I listen and disregard it, because you automatically assume things will be bad without any evidence at all. You view the whole universe through your sick bay goggles. You got no perspective Bones."
The comment stung. McCoy opened his mouth to object, but he captain wasn't even looking at him. He was watching a table of young women from security. Their skirts were hitched up and their legs looked very long. Jim was clearly more interested in them than the conversation. He had sounded like he was still teasing. Ordinarily McCoy might have even laughed, but coming so soon after Christine's criticism, he couldn't see any humor in it.
"I don't have perspective? It never ceases to surprise me the number of people who feel certain they understand how best to provide health care to the entire crew even though they have never done it."
The captain turned back to him. "Huh?" he said.
"Never mind, I" McCoy was embarrassed at his outburst, but still a little hurt. He finished his shot and set his glass down. "I have surgery in the morning Jim, I should probably get some sleep."
"Are you sure you are okay Bones?" Jim looked confused. He still had half his beer left, but McCoy wanted to be alone and think.
"I'm good Jim," He tapped the half full glass and continued, "you know what, you should take this over to that table. I bet you would enjoy it more with some company."
The captain looked at the young women in red sharing the table by the door. "Yeah, I guess, if you're sure," he said.
"I'm sure." He signed his name on his tab. Jim played with his glass but didn't move. Still angry, but now feeling guilty too, McCoy left the bar.
