Thursday
0900
Christine sat and enjoyed the first cup of coffee of her day. Anabelle Sanchez and Xetic, two of the gamma shift nurses, sat with her. They had volunteered to stay after their shift ended and help with a rush of yeomen wanting to do their physicals at shift change. While they had worked, she rounded with Dr. M'Benga, and now he and Leonard were just starting Jamen's surgery. She had sent Brown in to prepare the surgery suite and then stay to assist. She was having two of their new grads watch. The other newbie she had sent off to wait in recovery, and she hoped to have time to finish one whole mug before the surgery finished and Leonard started bellowing that he needed assistance.
"Goj left this morning about 0100. His teeth seem to have relinked nicely. I tried to get the guards to let him sleep the night here, but they said no. I have to say, Mr. Goj seemed quite comfortable with their decision. I don't think he is at all sorry about the fight." Annabelle said thoughtfully. She was a sturdy, middle aged woman who had been recalled to active duty after Nero. She was very beloved on the ship, everyone's aunt. Before being assigned to the Enterprise, she had been the charge nurse on night shift at the Starfleet hospital in San Francisco where Christine had trained. When she had been a student Christine had been impressed by Sanchez's empathy. Now, she sometimes avoided her.
Xetic said, "Nor is Mr. Meyer, and he should be, as he is the much more severely hurt of the two. He continues in bed 2 in the ward. His guards stood over him all night, even while he slept. I offered them blankets and told them to sit down. Mr. Meyer is no danger to any of us surely. But they refused. I do not understand Mr. Meyer or Mr. Goj."
"Each is mad at the other for causing injury to the first." Annabelle explained.
"Yes, but I do not understand why as adults they continue to engage in adolescent displays." Xetic added. He was Zhun, and an excellent nurse, although many species found his insectoid appearance off putting at first.
"In my experience, some beings are never really finished being adolescents." Christine said. She had been going to say some males were never finished being adolescents but had remembered that Xetic was male, and didn't wanted to sound rude.
The doors to the unit opened. Christine saw her friend Nyota Uhura in the doorway. She said, "I have a patient for you."
"Where?" asked Christine. Nyota looked behind her, shook her head angrily and then stepped back into the passageway.
Christine heard Nyota say, "Come on, this isn't going to go away because you stall." Then she said, "you know you have no choice."
She walked back into the unit, pulling with her a slim figure in a gold shirt.
"I think I'm sick." said Ensign Chekov from the door. He looked flushed and sounded hoarse.
"Of course you are." Christine said, setting down her coffee.
"Oh, you sure are. Well never mind, you just come on back with me." said Annabelle, jumping up and hurrying around the desk. She led an unwilling looking Chekov towards the exam rooms.
"I am sorry Miss Chapel." he called over his shoulder.
"She doesn't care sweetie, we are all just sorry you're sick again." Annabelle said.
"Not as sorry as me," said Chekov.
"Believe me, I am far sorrier." Christine said quietly. Xetic waved his feelers in a show of support for her concern. Christine knew she should feel embarrassed, he had misunderstood her meaning. But it was frustrating. Chekov was right on time for developing the flu. Leonard was going to have a fit. He was inexplicably fond of the sickly little ensign. Every time he saw Chekov he would get mad again. He would be short and prickly with everyone. And he would blame Treos, which meant more time spent listening to arguments between the two of them. Her sympathies might have been with Leonard, but it didn't really matter. The doctors arguing would make the staff nervous. Everyone would be walking on eggshells and there would probably be sick calls. In addition, contagious illness meant extra work and she didn't need a distracted, cranky CMO.
As Xetic called up the ensign's file, Nyota said, "He was maybe a little quiet at shift change, but nothing major. I was having him check some figures for me up on the bridge and he started shaking like he had malaria. He insists he's fine, but he's not. Captain Kirk sent him down here and then told me to make sure he made it. Probably a good idea, he really didn't want to come. What do you think is wrong with him?"
"If I had to guess I would probably say the flu." said Christine.
"Poor Pasha. But he couldn't have gotten it on Ertruck?"
"If it is the flu, then he got it on Ertruck."
"He didn't have the shot, but Dr. McCoy said we weren't really at much risk. I got the vaccine, so I should be fine, right?"
"That is how it is supposed to work."
"I am trying not to feel too lucky, but I do. He has the worst luck with his health. Tell him I will try to come back to check on him soon okay? I have to get back to work now, it is a busy, busy day. Previously unknown sound symbols don't translate themselves." Nyota ducked out the door as quickly as she had come.
"I think I will wait until after Jamen's surgery to mention this to Leonard." Christine said, picking up her cup for one last swig.
10:00
McCoy didn't consider reconstructive surgery to be his strength, but there had been plenty of tissue to work with and he felt fairly confident Jamen would be pleased with the results. M'Benga, who he cared about, and Treos, who he did not, had both been in the surgery suite and had both been very complimentary. It gave him some satisfaction and lessened finally, the guilt he felt over not automatically suspecting the worst of Treos's robots. After standing around recovery watching Jamen sleep comfortably and giving Brown several completely unnecessary instructions, he went to check on Meyers, who had damaged the repairs to his hand during the fight.
Treos skipped behind him, chatting about McCoy's technique, the plans he had for the unit, and what research was leading to for the next generation of tissue regenerators. McCoy ignored him and went to Meyer's bed. Meyer waved to him with his good hand.
"Can you wiggle the other one?" McCoy asked. Meyers demonstrated that he could.
"Well congratulations. You've earned yourself at least another shift with your arm in that stasis field. What goes through your head Meyers? Don't you care that you could lose the use of that hand if you aren't careful?"
"He started it sir." said Meyer. Both of his guards, big men dressed in red, smiled.
"It isn't funny." McCoy snapped. He started to leave, but turned back to ask, "Did they order you two some breakfast?"
"We ate before we came on duty sir." one of the red shirts replied. McCoy had seen him many times before, but couldn't call to mind his name. McCoy wondered, Henderson? Halendort? Something like that.
"Thanks anyway." said the other.
"Well sit down, it makes me nervous to see you standing there like that." McCoy said.
Thank you, sir, Mr. Giotto said to stand." the two young men said together.
"Oh, Well I say to sit, but I suppose you always do just what Mr. Giotto says."
"Sir, yes sir." the security guards and Meyer said together. The guards shifted to full attention as they spoke and Meyer raised his good hand as if he were giving a cheer. The three of them smiled at each other as if they were sharing some private joke.
McCoy turned away in disgust.
"That's the kind of esprit de corps I wish we could have Leonard." Treos said.
"I am not really the team player type John." McCoy muttered.
"Obviously. My research is entirely designed to make your life and work easier and you fight me every step of the way as if you would like to see it fail. If you aren't interested in improving your own lot in life you should think at least of the others who work here. They would, I am sure, very much prefer to have less of their lives spent caring for disease."
"They don't care for diseases John, they care for," Leonard broke off and stared at the bed closest to the door. Sanchez was standing before it, holding up a gown for a patient who had both arms wrapped around his gold shirt and was shaking his head, apparently refusing to remove it. "Oh, for crying out loud." McCoy said and stomped off. Treos followed.
"Hello doctor!" said Sanchez, all smiles despite it now being several hours past shift change. "Look who's back to see us!"
"I'm sorry Dr. McCoy." Chekov said nervously.
"What the hell's wrong with him now?" asked McCoy looking up at the incomplete readouts above the bed.
"Well, we aren't sure yet, his admission work isn't finished. Pavel would really prefer to return to his room but we were just discussing how you would probably prefer he stay."
"I will come for all the shots, I will do what you say, I just don't want to be here again." Chekov whined. He was short of breath and very flushed.
"His temperature is over 38," Sanchez said, "and his cough sounds horrible."
"Please?" asked Chekov.
"No. Get in the gown. You don't want to be in sick bay, stop getting sick. Sanchez, you're off duty. Have someone else finish admitting him."
"Thank you, Dr. McCoy, but I will feel better once I know the little dear is tucked in nice and cozy." Chekov gave McCoy a desperate look. He hated being fussed over. Under other circumstances McCoy might have helped him out, or perhaps enjoyed watching, but today he was too angry.
"Suit yourself." McCoy said. "Tell the lab them to run a complete viral assay on every fluid he possesses. Tell them I suspect he has an influenza virus recently implicated in an outbreak on Ertruck. They can look up the specifics. We need to know how contagious he is. Once they get specimens start a wide spectrum virucide. He needs to be isolated, in the meantime, give him something for the fever. Bring him some water, he doesn't want ice in it. And you," he said to Chekov, "if you don't want me to stick lines in you, stay hydrated."
"Hey, is this the guy from the Ertruck mission? The flu exposure?" asked Treos, reaching for Sanchez's PADD. McCoy ignored him.
"You said I wouldn't get sick." Chekov said sulkily.
McCoy snorted and said, "Oh I never said that. I might have said you shouldn't get sick. But experience has taught me that if it is possible to get sick you will do it. Sanchez, tell them not to bring Jamen into the ward, keep him in recovery."
Chekov angrily pulled off his uniform top and flung it to the side. The effort made him start to cough, a thick congested sound that left him wheezing. Sanchez patted his shoulder and cooed encouragement.
"Cover your mouth." said McCoy. "Sanchez, start him on breathing treatments, whatever he had last time, one every four hours. Call me when the lab work is finished."
Sanchez nodded and then said, "You know doctor, this may get a little complicated. He can't go into isolation until we call someone in to man it, and he can't stay here. There are already maybe six yeomen in the admission area. We are anticipating finishing the physicals today."
"Oh great." said McCoy and Chekov at the same time.
"New plan," McCoy said. "Take Chekov to the ward. Put him at the opposite end of the room from Meyer and Gouyen until we can staff an isolation unit pull the curtains around his bed. They need to be cared for by separate nurses. Admit nobody else with open wounds to the ward, because until we hear otherwise, Chekov is officially contagious.
"No, don't worry! I have a great idea! I will take care of everything." Treos said. He started towards the admit area, but stopped and looked back. He said, "I can't believe we have a flu. My luck is finally changing!"
1300
Treos spent an hour on the main computer, complicating the admission of two ensigns from engineering with mild chemical burns acquired when they failed to use the correct tools while changing a battery. After he finished on the computer he tinkered happily with his robots until a yeoman arrived from supply with an antigrav sled laden with odd looking packages. He took it into the ward immediately. McCoy, busy aligning three toes broken in a jump from a top bunk, watched him without commenting.
He heard odd noises from the ward for the next hour, but ignored them, as he could not honestly complain that Treos's work was any noisier than the chatter, laughter and cheers coming from the physicals in the exam room. And all of it made it a little easier not to have to listen to the lieutenant whose foot he was working on explain again how the injury was not as stupid as it appeared, and could have happened to anyone.
With Treos distracted, McCoy decided to spend some time on the floor. He immunized Gouyen, who still had not had another arrhythmia. McCoy agreed to send him to his room, on restricted duty and wearing a cardiac monitor until they would do a complete workup on Monday. Mr. Gouyen was pleased but worried that he would be bored. McCoy considered how very close the young man had come to death. He told him to read some books.
He checked on Meyer, whose arm looked good and who continued unrepentant. He checked on Jamen, still dozing. McCoy thought it was most likely his work would be left alone if young man was well medicated. He discharged the burned ensigns with instructions to stop in tomorrow. He was just starting to sign physicals when Treos appeared.
"I am finished! We have to call a care conference."
"What?" asked McCoy. "What could there possibly be left in the universe that you haven't said already?"
"Leonard, we can't waste any more time. I can't take a chance on the flu recovering before I get to collect some data. I am trying to follow the restrictions you set up for me, so let's get this care conference on the road. This is science."
1310
"Hello Ensign Pavel Chekov, I am very sorry you are ill, but as always, pleased to see you. You know the routine!" Lariss said. Chekov smiled wanly and stuck out his arm. Lariss opened her kit and went to work.
He turned his head away and grimaced. He said, "I am glad it's you Miss Lariss."
"Oh, that's nice of you to say, here's a little poke. That's good, another one, hold still," Lariss said. She did most of the specimen collection for the lab. Most analysis was done externally, through sensors on the skin, but some tests still required actual samples. She had a talent for the work, nerves in her facial pits allowed her to sense blood moving in other's vessels. It was nice to get out of the lab occasionally and she liked to chat with the patients, but she really did enjoy the ensign. If he wasn't too ill he asked thoughtful questions. And she appreciated that he didn't complain when she stuck him. Most humans did, which was silly, because their veins were close to the surface and their ridiculously soft skin was easily penetrated. He was always a good patient. He didn't watch, but he didn't whine, and she appreciated that.
His warm blood filled her kit. Suddenly she sensed his blood pressure shoot up, he choked and grabbed at her trabecula with his right hand. She used her first tentacle to help him sit up as she pulled the kit back. Coughs wracked his body. She held the half full kit in her second tentacle and sympathetically stroked his back gently with her third. Eventually he collapsed back on the bed and lay with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. She sensed for his pulse, his heart was slowing to its normal rate, he was fine.
"Sorry," he wheezed.
"Not a problem, I appreciate the warning. That sounds bad, do you wish me to call for the nurse?" Lariss asked. He gave her a distressed look and shook his head.
"Never do I wish for the nurse," he said.
She laughed but when she looked at her kit she said, "Bad news Ensign Pavel Chekov, I wasn't quite finished, I shall have to stick you again." He shrugged and turned his arm toward her.
"Why so much?" He asked.
"I am drawing for all the usual tests, and then a few more. We are looking for vectors of infection, and that takes lots of blood," she said, watching the unit carefully. "We will also need urine and sputum and maybe a skin swab." She had thought he would find the information interesting but his expression implied that he did not. She said, "chances are good that we will find what we need and will not need to do anything more invasive." To her surprise, he looked even less happy.
"There are more invasive things than this?" he asked incredulously.
She laughed again. He really was most amusing. "Oh many, many things," she said.
"Great," he murmured.
She continued, "The information we received from Ertruck said this illness was spread almost entirely through sexual contact. Obviously, that was incorrect, so we need to try and discover how you acquired this illness."
Chekov frowned and said, "What do you mean obviously? I already told Dr. Treos I did. Why does everyone refuse to believe it's even a possibility? It is so rude."
Lariss paused while putting her kit away. "You did what?"
"I had sex on Ertruck."
"You really did?"
He looked at her with wide eyes and said, "Yes I really did. Several times. She asked me to. Her boyfriend is Ertruckian and thinks fidelity is foolish. She wanted to try to live as he does. I was surprised when she asked me to assist her, but I thought, why not, I am here to have adventures."
"I had not realized, I had heard the dinner was ceremonial. Well, boldly go ensign." Lariss said.
"Yes, but the only people that believe that I did are mad at me. Hikaru says I should never let someone use me this way. I say people use me all the time to do things I have no interest in, this I wanted to do." He added hopefully, "I always try to be helpful Miss Lariss."
"That is commendable ensign,"
The boy waited a few seconds and then asked quietly, "Is it really that impossible to believe?"
Lariss was surprised. He seemed worried. She said, "It is not even difficult to believe. You are human, correct?" He nodded. She continued, "If I remember correctly my physiology professor stated that humans have no specific seasons and are in fact both capable and interested in frequent efforts to reproduce. That is also correct?"
He smiled and said, "sort of."
"It sounds very inconvenient," she mused.
"You have no idea."
"Well, I suppose each species adapts to their own reality. You are I believe sexually mature?"
She had been seriously seeking information, but he smiled and asked, "How can you doubt it, I mean look at me, who wouldn't want to be with this?" He gestured at his skinny body dwarfed by the huge gown and wiggled his toes.
She was pleased he seemed happier and wanted to encourage him. She thought she remembered a joke that would be appropriate and said, "To tell the truth, I am inspired to sexual activity right now."
She was gratified by one of his wide smiles. "Sure you are Miss Lariss, I have that effect, on many, many beings." he said.
"There is nothing more desirable than a bony, sweaty human in my mind," she said. They both laughed, but then he started to cough again. She helped him sit up, stroked his shoulders with her tentacles and waited with him until it passed.
"Did you tell Dr. Treos?" she asked. He looked at her uncomprehendingly. "About having sex, did you tell Dr. Treos?"
He nodded. She asked again, "You told Dr. Treos, 'I had sex on Ertruck.'?"
"Not in those exact words, because that makes it sound like some military operation I completed. I want to be respectful. She was nice and it was fun. But yes, he made me fill out a questionnaire, and in it, I did tell him."
She looked at her kit full of blood. "Well then, I wonder why we have to do this?"
"No one ever listens to me Miss Lariss," he said sadly, "and if they accidentally do, they don't believe me."
15:00
They met in Leonard's office. It was crowded, but there was no other place they could speak that wasn't occupied by patients, yeomen, nurses, PAs, or robots. The goal was to develop a plan to deal with the outbreak of a contagious disease on the starship. They would listen politely and offer ideas in a thoughtful manner until they reached a consensus. Or they would have on some other ship. Christine did not think the process would be as smooth on the Enterprise.
In an effort to keep things from disintegrating into two hours of Leonard shouting 'No' while Treos shouted "Yes" Christine called the other physicians and asked them to join the group. The beta shift physician, Dr. Patel, came but Dr. M'Benga said he would support whatever decision the group reached and went back to his bunk. Of the two, she would have preferred M'Benga, whom she knew Leonard respected, but he had worked all night and then stayed to support Jamen through his surgery. Christine knew he deserved a break.
Treos explained that he had set up one unit of his mobile hospital facility right in the middle of the Enterprise's patient care area. He wanted to transfer Chekov into it and have the patient care units provide for him. He promised that he would personally oversee every action the units took. He kept talking about methods of avoiding cross contamination and the need to control the spread of the illness.
"He's not a doctor, he's an epidemiologist." Leonard grumbled. He had no interest in robots or the latest viral containment studies. He did not like the enthusiasm Treos displayed for finally having a test subject. He used the words, 'over my dead body,' several times, which caused Christine to sigh. Dr. Patel was a serious young woman who was enduring active duty until she could return to academia. She hated histrionics. Christine felt certain every word Leonard said tipped the scale further in Treos' favor.
Christine hoped none of the doctors would ask for her opinion. Leonard would be angry to hear her say she was not entirely opposed to the plan. She doubted it would work well. She felt certain this particular ensign would inevitably eventually require more care than the robots could provide. But in the short term she found the prospect of the robots contained inside the unit while their creator was kept busy collecting data very appealing. She began calculating in her head how a gigantic balloon set in the middle of the ward would affect staffing.
Just as Christine had known she would, Patel eventually interrupted Leonard's rant to say, "Doctor McCoy, it seems to me Dr. Treos is asking nothing extraordinary. You have sent a communique to headquarters asking for permission to end his work, but you have not yet had a response. So, in the meantime our orders stand and we must assist him in his research. He feels this is a perfect opportunity to test his unit. I don't see any danger, there were no deaths to humans reported on Ertruck and were the ensign's condition to worsen we could always begin a more conventional treatment."
"Or we could start with conventional treatment." McCoy sputtered. "It has always worked fine before."
Patel said, "He has tried to comply with every restriction you have given him. I see no reason to assume he will not continue to work with the medical staff. We all agree that his robots require supervision, but that does not mean they cannot provide medical care. Since you are unwilling to do so I will work with Dr. Treos and supervise his work."
McCoy replied, "I prefer to have direct control over my unit."
"I know." Patel said drily.
Christine looked at Patel speculatively. Leonard closely supervised all the new staff members. None of them liked it, but Patel had deeply resented it. He was not reserved about sharing his suggestions, and if he caught them in even a small mistake he watched them even more attentively. He had granted Patel the right to work completely independently only recently. She wondered if Patel was still resentful of Leonard. Maybe she should have tried harder to get M'Benga in.
Patel continued, "I believe it might be better to focus your attention on a second and larger round of immunizations. It appears the information we received about the illness requiring intimate physical contact to spread is incorrect. Therefore, we have to assume the ensign has exposed most of the ship. Supervising immunizations for the crew is, I believe, a better use of the time of CMO of a starship than is direct patient care."
'Oh yes, she is still mad," thought Christine. 'She would support Treos doing anything if it bothered Leonard.'
There was a little more discussion. Leonard sputtered, but Patel was unmoved. On a vote of 2 to 1 the medical staff formally agreed that Ensign Chekov should be the first patient admitted to the mobile hospital facility and would be cared for by the PCUs. Leonard could have overridden the vote, but it would have been unusual to do so. Treos beamed, McCoy scowled. Christine left to tell the lab to start making hundreds of doses of vaccine.
As the doctors left the meeting room Leonard stormed out to the desk.
"What was that about?" he snapped.
"What was what about?" she asked coolly, not looking up from her screen.
"Every time I tried to object to some fool thing Treos said you punched my leg. Why didn't you want me to talk?"
Christine frowned and said, "I wasn't aware I was doing that. I am sorry. But Leonard, you weren't going to win this one and you will speak with more authority next time if you don't appear to be purposely blocking him at every turn."
"I am the CMO. I have final say."
She sighed and then replied, "You are the CMO on a Starfleet vessel. Starfleet has the ultimate say. Doctor Patel is correct, at this point they are still saying we have to let Dr. Treos do his research. It isn't what we are used to, but he's on the Enterprise to test the efficacy of his work. This is the perfect scenario for him. There's only the one case, and the patient is young and strong. It won't be dangerous for Chekov and Dr. Treos can gather some data he can use to evaluate his plan. I know it is difficult it is for you to share Leonard, but you simply can't accept responsibility for every medical decision for everybody."
Leonard snorted and said, "Christine, he is incompetent. Legally I am responsible for every stupid thing he does. I would like a little oversight."
"Your orders make it clear that you are not legally responsible for him, the office of the surgeon general" Christine began. The doctor interrupted her.
"Fine, morally I feel responsible. I know the man's an idiot," he said. "I can't let him take care of anyone, particularly not a young, vulnerable crew member."
She began to get angry. Sometimes Leonard seemed to believe he was the only member of the medical division to care about the patients. She heard herself say, "This isn't just about Treos, Leonard. It's not even really about Chekov. You fill your entire life with this unit. You say you have to, I say you want to. Let's see who's right. Patel is offering to manage this case. She is willing to take this off your plate Leonard. She is perfectly capable. Do you think you can?"
"What do you mean do I think I can?"
Christine paused and then spoke carefully. "I am beginning to think you hate him so much you shouldn't ever supervise Dr. Treos. But this is bigger than that. I am not sure you are capable of stepping back and letting anyone else be in charge of anything."
"Don't be ridiculous Christine."
"Leonard, I have caught you checking the nursing schedules, which are in no way your responsibility."
"I told you, I was trying to put names to faces."
"And I told you that you are a very poor liar. Let Dr. Patel be the attending for Chekov. That means she makes the decisions, and you don't get to stand there and second guess her and yell at him. You stay out of it. You have plenty of work that only the CMO can do. Concentrate on that for a while. If you can."
"I can, I just don't want to. I refuse to be responsible for people without seeing that they are doing the right thing."
"You always say you have a wonderful staff, but you treat them like they are medical students and you are the professor. You make people feel incompetent Leonard. It is not respectful."
"Not respectful? The problem people have with me is that I don't sugar coat things. I am honest, I don't give people praise they don't deserve and I don't ask the staff to meet my emotional needs. I think it very respectful to expect them to do competent work."
"You lost this one Leonard. If you really respect your staff act like it. Support the decision."
Leonard narrowed his eyes and looked at her for a few seconds. When he spoke again his voice was controlled. "Thank you, Miss Chapel," he said. "I had no idea you felt so strongly on this matter. I will consider what you say carefully. In the meantime, I will respect the recommendations of the medical staff and will not comment on this case unless asked to do so." He turned to the desk and began to arrange styluses in a cup.
She had never expected him to agree so easily, and felt more surprised than victorious. She cleared her throat. "Thank you, Leonard," she said. "I hope you understand that I have only the highest regard for your skills and I truthfully believe this will be for the good of the unit."
"The good of the unit?" he said. "We don't work for the good of the unit Christine. Didn't you notice that Treos talked a lot about what he needs, and the needs of the community and the needs of science. But not once did he mention what Chekov needs. Pavel is the patient Christine, he's the sick one. I don't want anyone on this ship cared for by someone who doesn't understand that."
She couldn't help reaching out to touch his hand. "I know Leonard. But we will take care of him. I promise." She sighed, and wondered why it was so impossible for him to understand that if he had only said that in the first place, the meeting would probably have gone the other way.
1600
"Leonard, I sense you are unhappy about this." Treos said. They were standing in front of one pod from his mobile facility. The false bottom had taken two technicians from engineering several hours to set up, but the rest of the unit had gone up quickly. Treos was directing the robots in arranging the furnishings, then he would need to test the connections. After that it would be ready for patients. Treos was very happy, he hummed to himself and invited passersby to come and watch.
"Unhappy doesn't begin to describe it Treos."
"I anticipated this sort of reaction from the staff Leonard. It surprises me in a professional like yourself, but I want you to know I understand and support you. Well, I don't support your attitude, but I support your sense of self."
McCoy looked at his colleague, completely at a loss for words.
Treos placed his hand on McCoy's shoulder. He said, "This is a time of great change for you, it threatens everything on which you have based your entire life upon. How can it not be frightening? I want to assure you, know that your knowledge base will still be valuable, there will still be important work for you to do, and really, when you aren't called to constant interactions with patients, you will be free to use that knowledge even more."
"You are serious aren't you?"
"Yes, I am serious, I am completely serious. I am creating the future, and changing the destinies of care providers like you. The mobile hospital facility units will eliminate your career."
"I don't think that they will."
"I understand it must be painful to see yourself become obsolete."
"Treos, it bothers me that I am connected even tangentially with this fiasco, and that I have to stand here and wait for this experiment to fail. I am okay with my destiny."
"I just want you to know I understand and don't take your snide comments and lack of enthusiasm personally."
"Take them personally John, they are my gift to you."
"Leonard, that is exactly the sort of thing I am talking about. If you were really so confident that my work would fail you would stand back and let it happen. You are afraid for yourself. I just want you to know I acknowledge it and understand. I anticipate the nurses will have similar feelings as they watch my work and realize their own obsolescence."
"You haven't said anything like that to them?"
"No, no. It is inevitable that they will realize it, but it will take longer. I haven't talked so frankly to any of the other physicians either. You are obviously a sensitive and well educated professional Leonard, it is no wonder you were the first."
"My obnoxiousness makes you realize I am sensitive and well educated."
"You said that, I didn't. Again, I am just acknowledging your pain."
"You know what causes me pain? That I am surrounded by arrogance. You want to make a fool of yourself, and Christine wants me to stay out of it, Patel wants independence that she has never before shown interest in, and you've managed to convince yourself that the way I would show you I think this is stupid is to let you fail. I say fine. You all get your way. Do what you want. I am done reasoning with any of you. Until you screw up Treos. And let me be clear, you will. As soon as you do, orders or not, I am grinding the future of healthcare to a stop."
"We will see," Treos said placatingly.
"You'll see," McCoy corrected.
1715
The unit took up the space usually occupied by three beds in the ward. Its walls were rounded and a glowed a faintly iridescent pink. The doorway led to small separate chamber within the unit. The doors on either end of the chamber were made of the same translucent material as the rest of the unit, but once closed they sealed tightly. Anyone entering or leaving the unit had to stand in the smaller chamber and wait for someone outside to open the door.
Inside it was a little spartan hospital. There was a bio bed. There was a supply area against the far wall, with a replicator and a tiny transporter that could bring up supplies quickly in an emergency. There was a waste receptacle and a charging base for the patient care units. The two robots floated by the bed, waiting. The bed had no monitor. When asked, Treos explained it didn't need one. The bed fed any data it collected directly to the robots. McCoy gritted his teeth, and asked Patel in a strained voice if she thought maybe it might be a good idea to get a monitor added so that she would be able to evaluate the patient too. She didn't look pleased but agreed. Chapel called engineering to come up and add a remote screen next to the comm.
Christine stood between Leonard and Patel and listened to Treos explain the treatment plan to the ensign. She wondered if Treos was aware that every nurse on the unit was hiding behind a doorway or staying at the desk, trying hear the discussion.
Chekov looked at the unit and said, "I am not going in that fishbowl." He looked sweet and pliable but he could be very stubborn; Christine thought that was probably one of the reasons Leonard liked him so much.
Treos patted him on the back and said heartily, "You'll find it is hardly different than being cared for on the floor. This is science ensign, and you'll be playing an important part in developing a new life saving technology."
Chekov crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and said, "I do not wish to help develop technology. I want to be well. I will go to a regular isolation unit. I've been there before and it does not feel so much like you are on display. The nurses can come in if they suit up, so there are people to talk to."
Leonard looked as proud as if his first born had taken its first steps but didn't say anything. Christine appreciated his self-control. She hoped he had been convinced by her arguments, and was turning over a new, more managerial leaf, but thought it was probably more likely he had decided the fastest way to end this was to allow Treos to fail publicly.
Treos said, "Come on ensign, the PCUs are waiting."
Chekov didn't bother to answer, just shook his head.
Sounding less jovial Treos said, "We need to get to work. This is science and I have data to collect."
"No." Chekov said.
"I am ordering you to get in the unit."
"You are not an officer." Chekov said, arms still crossed.
"I am a doctor," Treos said angrily. "I know what is best for you in this situation."
"I have no obligation to obey doctors."
"Fine," said Treos. He looked at Patel. "Order him to get in the unit."
Quietly, and in a gentle voice, Patel said, "Ensign Chekov, I am ordering you to comply with Dr. Treos's request."
The ensign looked at her sadly for a few seconds and then said, "Yes sir." He mustered a surprising amount of dignity for an underweight teenager wearing a hospital gown and entered the unit. He flinched when the door sealed behind him but didn't say anything.
Christine could tell by the little flutters of alarm she heard that her nurses were sympathetic to Chekov. She had wondered if Patel realized how unpopular her decision was. Treos, she suspected, didn't care.
"Stand inside the doorway and let the unit scan you. That will set your identity." Treos said into the comm. He looked gloriously happy.
Chekov muttered, "I have an identity," but obediently stood still. Halfway through the scan he started to cough and reached out to the side of the unit for support. The whole chamber moved. The unit beeped and the bio bed display announced that the scan had failed.
Treos said sharply, "We're going to have to restart. It will help a great deal ensign if you hold still."
Chekov stood up straighter. As the scan restarted he muttered to himself in Russian. There must have been a translator built into the unit, because they all heard him say, "This is stupid, I can't even see. I hate everyone."
McCoy smiled broadly, but then frowned and asked, "What does he mean he can't see?"
"There's a little distortion through the walls. He's exaggerating. He'll be fine after he gets used to it." Treos replied. "Mr. Chekov," he continued, "I forgot to mention, the patient care units can have a little trouble with the knots on hospital gowns. I would like you to slip out of your clothes please."
Chekov looked angrily over his shoulder and then stepped through the second doorway into the unit. Treos, sounding a little urgent, said, "the gown Chekov, take off the gown."
The young man replied in Standard, "I am sorry sir, I do not hear you clearly. Perhaps it is the fever, but I cannot make out what you say."
Patel rolled her eyes. Christine glanced at Leonard. He was watching with an eyebrow raised. "Score one for the biologics." Christine said quietly. Leonard actually smiled.
Chekov was notoriously modest. They usually only got him into a gown if he was unconscious when he arrived, or if like today, he had not anticipated staying. Leonard generally allowed him to wear his own pajamas while he was on the unit. Christine had always considered that an unfortunate precedent, but it was well established at this point. She felt certain that to win this battle the researcher would have had to have started while he still had physical access to the ensign. As if to illustrate her thoughts, Treos repeated his request, and Chekov again ignored him. He shuffled over to the bed, sat on it and coughed a while before laying down and curling into an exhausted looking ball.
"Patel," began Treos, but the young woman shook her head.
"I will not be ordering him to accommodate your clothing request Dr. Treos. We do not require that of any other patients. I understood you wished to see your PCUs work in a realistic environment."
'Good argument Aparna, he won't be able to answer that one,'' thought Christine.
Treos tried one last time, "Ensign Chekov, the PCUs will have a much easier time caring for you if you take off your clothes."
Chekov closed his eyes and murmured to himself in Russian. The translated voice said, "You are a horse's ass, and I wish you would shut up."
McCoy laughed and even Patel smiled. Christine leaned into the comm and called, "Dr. Treos, I am not sure the ensign can hear you clearly. I wonder if he is aware how clearly we can hear him."
Chekov grimaced, and reaching out, carefully tucked his gown beneath himself before pulling the single blanket up to his neck.
Leonard frowned at the unit. The walls jiggled slightly as the air whooshed over filters, the power sources hummed constantly, and it was beginning to make the entire unit smell slightly of disinfectant. To distract him from his musings Christine asked, "Do you think it is as noisy inside?"
Leonard grunted, then leaned down to the comm. "Chekov," he asked. "What's the noise level like in there?"
The ensign opened his eyes and looked at the box from where he could hear McCoy's voice with a wounded expression. He didn't reply, but wrapped his blanket more tightly around himself and rolled over to stare at the blank wall.
1530
Meyer's second skin reattachment was successful. After receiving an inoculation for Ertruckian influenza, he was discharged to the brig, on activity restriction and with instructions to be available for antibiotics and assessment every 0900. He left the unit in the same good spirits he had entered. According to his guards, three days in the brig and a week on report was the usual punishment for fighting on the ship. McCoy was astounded to learn there was a usual punishment for fighting on the ship. Meyer apparently thought it was a fair price to pay for the pleasure of beating Goj. His good-bye wave was enthusiastically returned by the new little nurse that had assisted in his surgery. McCoy noticed that Chapel frowned at the display.
The yeomen had been a presence in the unit all day, but not in numbers approaching those of Wednesday. The corps of yeomen, McCoy reflected, might be perky and annoyingly cheerful, but they were organized and understood timelines. They had so far been the only division to get all their physicals done on time. McCoy felt grateful for their cooperation. He joined in the round of applause the nurses gave them.
"Physicals done for the month, Meyers gone, the unit is getting quiet," he said to Chapel as they walked back to the desk.
"Quiet?" Christine said crankily. "I hadn't noticed quiet. That isolation balloon is never quiet. And while you were locked away in your office Treos talked about what a momentous moment this is pretty much without pause. Do you know he invited tours up from engineering to see that thing? He stood there surrounded by redshirts bragging like no one else has ever built an air filtration system. You should have seen Chekov's face when he woke up and realized half the engineering ensigns were staring at him. I actually felt sorry for the little bugger."
"Well, as long as you weren't being preferential in your sympathy I am sure it was alright Miss Chapel."
"Funny Leonard. Will you please mention to Dr. Treos that visitors are usually required to at least have a passing acquaintance with the patients? And then maybe mention that the medical ward is not open for tours."
"Gee Miss Chapel, I am trying very hard to share my responsibilities and I think talking to Dr. Treos might be something I could let go of. I will ask the nurse manager to do it. She is eager to share my responsibilities."
"Point taken doctor, I will speak to Treos myself." Chapel said, and turning, walked briskly away.
"But it won't help Christine," McCoy called to her back. He walked towards his office and his remaining paperwork. He continued the conversation with himself as he went. "It won't help. You can't keep that guy from talking. That guy can talk about work without actually doing any better than anyone else I ever met. He could have a brilliant career in the surgeon general's office I think."
18:30
Once Chekov and his germs were confined, Jamen was given a bed on the ward.
"What's that?" he asked when he saw the unit.
"That is Dr. Treos' prototype isolation unit for use during plagues and wars." Trina Shernan explained. She was assisting him to his new bed, walking slowly with him in case he needed any assistance.
"What's it doing here?" he asked.
Trina considered. Diagnoses were supposed to be private, but everyone on the entire ship would know fairly soon, most of them would be getting immunized within the next 36 hours. "Do you know Pavel Chekov?" she asked.
"Sure." said Jamen.
"He's got the flu. They are trying out the unit on him. I suppose it's interesting, Dr. Treos keeps saying we are making medical history. I kind of feel sorry for him though. He's in there by himself with those creepy robots of Dr. Treos."
"The ones that messed up my face? What do they have to do to get turned off? Kill someone?"
"I hope not." Trina said, glancing at the unit.
Jamen took a few more steps and then said, "Wait, did you say he got the flu?"
"Yes, why?"
"The one from Ertruck?" asked Jamen. Trina nodded. "That guy is the luckiest being I ever met. Wait till Reuben hears."
"Lucky? He's really sick Bobo."
"No, I mean, you know how he got it right? I can't wait to get back to work. I got to be the one to tell Reuben. I want to see his face. He is not going to believe this."
"Tell me."
"Let me get settled in first." They had reached his new bed. Gingerly, Jamen sat down and investigated the bed controls. His dinner was waiting for him, she helped him set it up, and got him some water. He patted the bed next to him, encouraging her to sit with him. She laughed and took one of the visitors chairs instead. And then he told her.
1900
Christine was supposed to be off, but was still working on the schedules for the next day's immunizations when Trina returned to the desk. She ran up excitedly and slid into a chair. "You are not going to believe what Bobo just told me." Shernan said.
Christine frowned but O'Loughlin and Langdon both looked up eagerly.
"Bobo knows how Pav got the virus. It's good."
"Tell all," said Langdon." Christine sighed.
"Before they went to Ertruck he was in the away room with Mr. Reuben and Pav. They were checking the supplies. Mr. Reuben told Pav to read the prep notes for the mission and let them know if they had anything interesting in them. Apparently, there wasn't much, until Pav told them that it said the Ertruckians have some sort of adulthood ceremony and then they don't have any cultural restrictions around sexual activity at all. In fact, all Ertruckians are encouraged to do it as much and as often as they can. They even have more than one holiday which is celebrated by every adult on the whole planet grabbing someone and heading outside to have sex."
"Seriously? Out of all the information in the report, that is what they talked about?" Maddie O'Loughlin asked.
"Well it is pretty interesting." Piers said. "I could think about that for a long time. I mean, the whole planet at once."
Maddie rolled her eyes and said, "I hate boys."
"So," continued Shernan, "this leads to an argument."
"Of course it does, because the only thing boys like better than sex is arguing. And then what did they do next? Did they fight or did they get drunk?" asked Maddie. Christine looked up in surprise. She did not disagree, in fact she might have included sleep with a total stranger to the list, but O'Loughlin was so young. She wondered where the bitterness had come from. Perhaps a recent breakup.
"It was a play argument, not a real one, and it was over whether if they had the chance they would participate in one of those festivals. They all said they would of course, and they all said the other ones wouldn't."
"As if," laughed Piers, "there was any chance at all that with Captain Kirk in the same room anyone was ever going to choose one of those three anyway."
Shernan shrugged and said, "I don't know Mr. Reuben, but Bobo is really funny and cocky, and Pav is always so sweet. A lot of people really like them. And they're both good looking, maybe not Captain Kirk good looking, but then who is? They would be way easier to talk to. And you wouldn't have to worry how you looked all the time. If I were with the captain I would never relax. He's too perfect."
Christine shuddered involuntarily. Fortunately, none of the younger nurses noticed. Trina said, "But anyway, let me finish. They ended up betting about whether or not they would do it. It was a joke, because of course they didn't think they would ever get a chance to find out. But Bobo says Pav disappeared after dinner. When he didn't come back to their room by dark Mr. Sulu called him, and whatever he said made Mr. Sulu laugh. He told them not to worry, that Pav was going to be late, and they all went to bed.
"Bobo said Pav didn't wander in till about three seconds before breakfast and he definitely looked a little the worse for wear. But he didn't say anything until they were back on board. Then when he was helping them put away the gear he said, 'I won, and I want my money.' He said he spent the night with some girl and it was sut, sut, sut. They didn't pay him because Mr. Reuben said it wasn't provable. The point is, Bobo says now that he has the flu Pav is probably going to come into some money. Here we are all worried about him and Bobo is jealous. Isn't that funny?"
The younger nurses all laughed. Christine thought for a second and then asked, "Shernan, are you saying Chekov had sex on Ertruck?"
Shernan looked a little embarrassed but replied, "Several times, according to Bobo Jamen Miss Chapel."
"Why didn't he just say so? It would have avoided so much extra work." Chapel asked.
"I don't know." Shernan said.
"From what I know of him, he did. He probably crowed about it like a scrawny rooster." O'Loughlin said.
Shernan began to argue with O'Loughlin, accusing her of not understanding the depths of Chekov's personality. Christine didn't listen. Instead she opened the ensign's medical records. It took a while to find what she was looking for, the exposure evaluation sheet Dr. Treos had created and all the team members had filled out. She read it carefully and turned to the others.
"He doesn't say anything about sex. He does say he spent a lot of time with a young woman. He says he spent some time sitting with the Ambassador's daughter, but that's all."
"Let me see that." Langdon said. He took the report and read the important section quickly. Then he paged back and called up Chekov's original. His smile widened as he read it. He looked at the young women. "He said sut, the computer read it as sat. Listen to this, the computer says they sat in the garden, and sat on the balcony, and they sat one more time that morning. Wow, three times? Who'd have thought?"
"It's always the ones you don't expect." said Shernan.
"Over like eight hours is not so amazing," said O'Loughlin.
"Oh yes, it is Maddie." Piers said. Trina nodded.
Christine cleared her throat. "What am I missing?" she asked firmly. Three sets of young eyes looked at her.
There was an uncomfortable silence, then Shernan said, "I can't do it, you tell her."
Langdon tried to look sesrious and said, "Miss Chapel, sut is sex. It means like, really, really casual sex, so commitment free it is pretty much just fun exercise. You call it that so everyone understands it isn't at all serious. It's a common expression."
"It really is." added Shernan. "Any one would know what he meant."
"Anyone who's had sex this century." O'Loughlin added archly, looking at her supervisor.
Christine closed the file and stood up. "I need to discuss this with Doctor McCoy. I don't think we are going to have to immunize the whole crew after all. Unless he's been sutting anyone else?"
"Just sut. Not sutting." Langdon said. He looked at Shernan questioningly.
She shrugged. "I don't know for sure ma'am, but I never heard he was. Not lately anyway."
As Christine left for Leonard's office she heard O'Loughlin say, "Oh my God, she is so old."
22:00
McCoy put his signature on the last of the yeomen's physicals. Finished until next month, when it will be housekeeping's turn, he thought. He sent the files to records and prepared to take a break. Just as he finished his pour, a little knock came from the door.
"Come." he said with a sigh.
"I was hoping you were drinking." Montgomery Scott said as he poked his head in. Just seeing him made McCoy feel happier than he had all day. Scotty was cheerful and sensible, an unusual combination.
"I'm drinking bourbon." McCoy said.
"And I brought my own, so it doesn't matter." Scotty said, holding up a flask.
"They stretched out their legs before them and sipped.
"Do you think I have trouble sharing responsibility?" asked McCoy.
"What, because you are still in your office at 2200 signing papers that could have been delegated to the night or evening shift physicians? No, that's perfectly normal."
McCoy sighed. "I don't get many chances to meet the crew while they're healthy. When I read the physicals, it helps me put a name to a face. It isn't that I don't think other people are qualified to do it, I think it makes my job easier for in the long run."
"Makes perfect sense to me. Who says you don't share responsibility?"
"Chapel. She dared me to stay out of Treos' way during our flu outbreak, which appears will be limited to one patient by the way. Turns out the scientists on Ertruck were right, and it is spread through close contact with body fluids. Chekov insists he has managed to keep his body fluids intact since he returned to the ship. Treos is mighty disappointed. I told him not to lose hope. There's a chance Chekov's lying. Boy wasn't all that forthcoming about his body fluids prior to this."
"Treos? Is that the bioengineer?"
"That's him, he's an engineer, and a doctor of medicine. And a horse's ass. Even Chekov thinks so. He called him that when he didn't know he was being translated."
"Aye, I've met him. He's been down to engineering and managed to get in everybody's way several times. He's not that old Len, he's what 33, 35 at the most? If he went straight through and got his engineering degree at 23, his medical degree at 27, and did his PhD in four years he didn't finish until 31. I'm not sure how long it takes to become a horse's ass, but he can't have had time to have practiced much medicine. No wonder you are worried."
"Exactly, Patel says she'll supervise Treos, but, I don't know, Chekov is complicated. He never just comes in and gets well. I have a bad feeling about this."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Chapel made me promise I would stay out of it, so not much. Instead I'm concentrating on getting Starfleet to fire him. I already notified them that he made a mess of surgery on an enlisted guy from security. I am waiting for their response. I am hoping they will allow me to terminate his rights to practice medicine on the ship. As soon as they do I am shutting down his whole operation. In the meantime, I'm sitting and worrying" He raised his cup in a salute to his friend and said, "Oh, and I'm drinking."
Scotty raised his cup too and said, "And really, what else were you going to do anyway?"
"Exactly, and what else would I do anyway?" McCoy said and finished his glass.