Author notes:
Thank you to jadesabre75 for reading the beta version for me.
Trek, thanks for working out the chemistry with me on the parasite, and helping me catch the error with regards to the CO2.
Many thanks to diehard and bearysweet for taking the time to e-mail me with encouragement.
A thank you to Feli3 for the reviews and encouragement. And to answer the question: No Lotor will not make a direct appearance in this one.
I cannot find the words to express my appreciation for the people who have taken the time to let me know they are enjoying this piece. Those reviews mean the world to me. It also made my day when the count of reads on the story passed into four digits. For a time, I actually had more hits than my husband did with his astrophotography. For all those who have read this (some more than once), my most heartfelt appreciation and thanks.
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"Ok, people. Extra gentle here. On the count of three; one, two, three." On three the staff carefully lifted and transferred the Captain back to a regular bed. They had kept him the pressure chamber for nearly ten hours. In the beginning, it did not seem the treatment would work. After three hours, one of the monitors had reported a slight change. White blood cell count started to increase. Within an hour, poison concentrations decreased slightly.
Over the next six hours, Gorma struggled to maintain the balance between keeping the captain's blood pH high enough to kill the parasite without triggering renal failure, another heart attack or inducing hypoxia (oxygen poisoning).
As the ninth hour passed, the levels of carbon dioxide started decreasing rapidly within the captain and kidney function began declining. The pace maker kept his heart rhythm normal, but his body would not tolerate any further treatment. Ordering the chamber reduced to normal oxygen levels and brought back to a normal pressure, Gorma felt deflated. The treatment had started to work; scans showed sections of the parasite breaking off from the filament network and white blood cells attacking those sections. If only they could keep the captain in the chamber longer.
Shaking his head, Gorma took a deep breath and realigned his thoughts. Now was not the time for negative thinking. This proved they had the right treatment, it would just take more time than anticipated and more rounds in the chamber. It would give the captain's body a chance to rest for a few hours, absorb some nutrients, and the staff to rest before the next round. Mikko had already decided he would let the carbon dioxide levels return to normal, give the captain a renal function booster, and run the spindle again to remove the detached parasitical filaments. He suspected they could easily reattach to the smooth muscle and wanted to take no chances.
The nurses quickly attached the spindle. Behind the filter, black string-like structures quickly gathered. It would take two hours and three filters before the blood ran clear. The spindle ran another twenty minutes before Gorma ordered it disconnected.
Looking around the room, Mikko saw only determination and hope in the faces of his staff. They believed in their Captain. He nodded to himself, then addressed the room in words handed down for generations, "The lore masters have called for a vote."
At his words the room stilled for a moment, and then every face turned toward Mikko as he continued, "The builders have declared the small receiving chamber safe, and the scanners placed therein. You will have a week. Please pass the word."
A spontaneous cheer rose within the room and a new wave of determination shone from every face. Within a day, every person within the castle had placed their vote. The call to vote from the lore masters spread throughout Arus. The off-worlders did not understand the sudden shift in attitudes of many of the people of Arus. Productivity increased, and a new joy suffused through much of the population. When asked why, the people merely replied, "The lore masters called for a vote." No amount of prodding or prying could elicit any more information. Even the children, most unusually, did not offer more information. It would take nearly a standard month for the vote to reach the most remote regions and then return to the lore masters. Although no one doubted the outcome, each waited eagerly for the results.
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After consulting with the nurses, Gorma decided to let Keith rest until the monitors detected an increase in filaments. In the lab, regrowth started within two hours of returning to normal oxygen and pressure levels. The time would allow a respite to both the staff and the captain. Even though he had not stirred nor given any indication of consciousness, the doctor believed the captain must have awareness of what happened on some level.
The staff quickly dispersed to find a meal, a nap, and a chance to check on loved ones. A single nurse remained behind to monitor the captain and call everyone back to restart treatment when the parasite reactivated.
Mikko called for a gathering of Coran, Magda, the Princess, and the other members of Keith's team for an update in the conference room. Calling for a meal, he retreated to his office to review charts, treatments plans, and patient updates. Long practice made short work of the meal, when it arrived. It took less time than he anticipated to update the paperwork which would give him time to make patient rounds before the meeting in the conference room.
After Garrison had arrived, only a few patients had trickled into the castle infirmary. With the exception of the captain's room, each space in the hospital held at least three patients; those with the most critical injuries who needed close supervision. With the flow of badly injured shifted to Garrison surgeons, Gorma and his staff scheduled follow-up surgeries and small physical therapy sessions.
With the withdrawal of Lotor's forces, the planet would move those patients who needed more medical attention than Arus could provide to Ebb, Earth, and several other planets willing and able to replace limbs, repair damaged organs, and heal brain injuries. It would take years to rebuild the medical community on Arus. Gorma remembered before the first of Zarkon's attacks, he worked as one of the top surgeons on the planet. He had loved teaching almost as much as the challenges of surgery. It would take the rest of Mikko's lifetime and beyond to recover.
Pausing, the doctor looked at his hands. No longer the hands of a young man, yet they had served him well. Shaking his head, Gorma pulled himself out of the introspection, and chuckled at himself. The lack of sleep made him positively maudlin. He had no time for brooding. People counted on him and he had patients to see and a meeting in an hour. Taking a data pad with him, he swallowed the last of his cold kava and strode down the hallway, the picture of confidence and hope.
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It took four hours for the parasite to recover, longer than the doctor had hoped. Kogane had over two solid hours to absorb some nutrients without anyone poking or prodding him. Mikko believed it could only help.
The staff in the room looked, if not rested, than at least refreshed for the break from their battle. Gorma believed the old cliché about it being easier to fight an enemy with a face. They could not look the at parasite, target it, and watch it explode. It did not make it less of a battle, just on a smaller scale. The doctor shook his head at his own folly, cliché, indeed.
Two orderlies carefully moved the pressure chamber back into the room. With great care, they then lifted the captain with two nurses and gently set him in the device. The nurses checked to ensure the various monitoring devices had not come loose. The chamber closed. With a soft whir, the machinery came to life slowly decreasing pressure and reducing the amount of carbon dioxide in the air mixture. Within ten minutes, the captain's breathing accelerated and sweat beaded on his forehead.
The waiting began again.
It took less time for the man's pH levels to rise. The parasite ceased producing toxins in less than an hour. Gorma smiled, they had the damn thing on the retreat.
They kept the captain in the chamber for six hours before his oxygen levels started climbing to dangerous levels. Following the same procedure, Gorma had the chamber brought back to normal levels, and the captain attached to a spindle and TPN. It took slightly longer for the parasite to recover, which gave everyone hope they would beat the thing. Over the course of the next day, the medical staff followed the same pattern.
Mikko worried about the captain. Each time the captain could stand less of the chamber, but it took longer for the parasite to recover. After the third treatment, they did not wait for the parasite to recover, but started a pattern of three hours in the chamber, two hours out of it. After the sixth round, Gorma reduced the duration in the chamber to two hours. In one quiet moment, the doctor shooed everyone out of the chamber saying they needed a respite, and to return in two hours and firmly closed the door behind them.
He then sat beside the young pilot, listening to the soft sounds heart monitor as it beat out a steady, slow tempo. During the last few hours, small spasms had begun in the captain's arms and back. Reluctantly, he had given a muscle relaxant to the pilot. He felt it too dangerous to allow the spasms. The doctor believed it would only take a few more treatments to eradicate the parasite completely. If the captain could handle it. Although the parasite infestation deceased, the captain seemed to fade more after each round of treatment.
Closing his eyes he let the quiet of the room and the familiar sounds relax him. As he settled into himself, Mikko became aware of a sound which did not quite fit with the normal ones he associated with a hospital room. Listening closely, he identified the familiar noises and dismissed them as he tried to identify the new one. The heart monitor beeped softly, the spindle machine hummed quietly with a wooshing noise as the blood flowed through the tubing, and soft music played an old lullaby. This left something which almost sounding like speech, but at a very low register without any identifiable words. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to turn his head to orient on the sound. When he opened them, Gorma found himself looking directly at the box Lt. McClain had asked to install. Thoughtfully, he walked over to the box and put his ear near it. The sound defiantly originated from the box, but seemed no louder here than across the room. He looked back and forth between the patient and the box several times and then nodded to himself. Walking to the door, he called an orderly into the room. The two spent the next ten minutes rearranging equipment until the box sat on a small table directly behind the captain's bed where it did not interfere with any equipment. Dismissing the orderly, he checked the captain's vitals before returning to his vigil.
The team would return in a half an hour to return the captain to the pressure chamber. He intended to use the time to meditate and perhaps offer a prayer to the Goddess and God above. Taking a deep breath he let it out slowly and could have sworn he heard a whispered Thank You.
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They could no longer detect any trace of new poison secretions. Gorma intended to spindle the captains blood for several hours. The poisons which had leeched into muscle and organ would now start to move back into the blood stream as the body tried to expel it.
Once again, the pilot's room turned into a bee hive of activity. The pressure chamber was maneuvered out of the room, but kept nearby in case of a reemergence of the parasite. Gorma felt they had killed all of it, but it would take only a small amount surviving to start the process anew. It took very little time to start the spindle machine.
The captain's fever started to abate, lowering from where it had hovered at 104 degrees. His heart rate remained steady and thus far had neither convulsed nor had his blood pressure dropped to a dangerously low level. Deep in his mind, Gorma felt this could be the turning point. He buried the thought before it ever came to fruition.
His wounds looked as well as could be expected. The puncture in his left shoulder did not seem unduly affected. Testing the muscles of the left hand, the doctor was relieved to see the reflexes responding appropriately with healthy color. He smiled to himself and allowed some vanity in saving the use of the hand. With a little physical therapy, he should have full use of his hand. Damn, I'm good.
In contrast, the captain looked like hell. The little good he had received from the TPNs had quickly disappeared. Reluctantly, Gorma had ordered a temporary feeding tube to be inserted down the commander's throat. He wanted some solid food in the man, in addition to the TPN. Captain Kogane needed nutrition in a rather large and concentrated dose. Soon, tubes sprouted from the captain giving him the look of a mechanical creature. A tube down his throat, and IV in each arm, and spindle machine in his side, monitor pads on his chest and head, and a blood testing device on his leg, which periodically pricked the captain for a drop of blood to analyze for pH, carbon dioxide concentration, and to watch for any danger signs of the parasite returning.
Once they had put a sufficient amount of food in the captain's stomach, the feeding tube was removed, but the spindle would stay for several more hours. Gorma left at that point, with orders to call him immediately if there was any change. He did not expect the captain to come out of the coma for several days. His body had just taken too much of a beating and frankly, needed rest without someone poking prodding, or pushing it to the limits of human tolerances. Mikko arrived at his office, and sat in the chair with his feet up for a few minutes. Looking at his watch, he set an alarm to wake him, then reclined to let himself have a rejuvenating sleep. The tension had caught up to him, and he no longer had youth on his side. With no room for error, the doctor did not want fatigue to impede his though processes. It took only moments before he slept.
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The sounding of a loud buzzing startled Mikko into consciousness. From long practice he woke quickly, deactivated the alarm and stretched slightly. Poking his head out of the office, he flagged down a page to order a meal and then went to shower and dress in fresh clothes. He forced himself to eat and go through the reports before going to visit Captain Kogane. He stopped long enough to check with the duty nurse and then nearly running to the captain's room. As he walked in the room, the nurse on duty looked up with a smile. "Temperature normal, doctor."
"Excellent. Let me take a look at these labs. No further traces of toxin in the system. Analysis shows no additional toxin in muscle tissue." He paused to pick up a scanner. "No residual showing in bone marrow or hidden in soft tissue. Ok, Nurse Cruper, we are going to disengage our patient from the spindle."
The two worked quickly but carefully. First they shut off the intake, activating the block and let the remainder of the blood flow back into the vein. Then they removed the tubes and applied a clear sealer to the tube sites. The captain's color looked better than it had in days, the sickly yellow hue had faded. Although he did not look healthy, with the poisons removed he no longer looked as though he should be a week in the grave.
Gorma removed the unit from his leg and again placed a clear sealant on the puncture site. They also removed the second IV, leaving only the TPN solution attached. Without so many tubes and devices attached, it gave both the doctor and nurse an surge of relief. In their business, less attachments meant a healthier patient.
Finally, the doctor check the incisions sites. No infection and sealed nicely. "Continue with the TPNs for the next 24 hours, and nurse in the room at all times."
The nurse nodded and returned to her seat and the charts in front of her as the doctor went out the door to report on the captain's progress. Now they just needed to lure Keith back to himself and help him wake. Thank the Goddess and God above for their benevolence. Mikko could hardly wait to deliver the good news.
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