Chapter 17 - A NEW APPOINTMENT PART II

Klimpt immediately seemed to realize his mistake.

"My apologies." He answered her. "IS. Mr. Layton is still very much alive."

Melanie closed her eyes as the feeling of dread left her body. He was still alive. At the moment, that was all that mattered to her.

"But we still have no idea exactly what is wrong with him." Klimpt continued. "So my question again to you is, how are you feeling?"

Melanie paused for a moment as she thought about the question. "I feel fine." She finally replied. "Not so much as a cough."

"That's good." Pelton replied this time.

But both doctors immediately fell silent again. Something Melanie did not take as a good sign. There was something going on with Layton they weren't telling her. And she felt it was time she found out.

"All right." She stated. "We all know how I'm feeling. How about we discuss Mr. Layton now? He's still alive, but exactly what is his condition?"

The two doctor's exchanged a quick look before Klimpt turned to her.

"Understand, Ms. Cavill, that Dr. Pelton and I consulted on this at length before we took action. Mr. Layton's condition was deteriorating. He was getting any better and he was rapidly approaching the point we weren't sure he was going to survive whatever was causing his illness."

Melanie let her gaze slip between the two. "And?" She asked.

"We felt in the end what we needed to do was stabilize him. 'Freeze him in time', if you will."

Melanie didn't need to hear anymore.

"You put him in the drawers!?" She all but yelled at them.

"To buy ourselves some time to find out exactly what was wrong with him." Klimpt explained. "He may not be getting any better, but he also isn't getting any worse now."

Melanie could barely keep herself from running from the room and start yanking open each drawer in turn.

"Layton HATES the drawers!" She stated fiercely. "They terrify him."

Pelton stared back at her as one would a particularly dimwitted child. "He's in stasis, Ms. Cavill. He isn't aware of much of anything."

"Layton's been in the drawers before." Melanie replied. "And he came out of the suspension while still in the drawer. It did NOT leave a good impression on him."

Klimpt shook his head. "That's not possible. The only way someone would come out of suspension once they've been placed in stasis is if they..." Klimpt stopped for a moment before continuing. "...if their body was already used to Kronole."

Melanie watched as the two doctors settled their gaze on her. She already knew what they were implying, and it wasn't something she particularly wanted to admit about the man.

She had actually learned about it by accident. They had been playing 'Secrets', and she had asked him 'What was the one thing you did in your life you're the least proud of?'

His answer had surprised her, and showed her just how seriously he took their 'game'.

"Kronole'." He answered in a flat low tone, as though recalling something he didn't particularly want to remember or discuss. "It was passed around the Tail like food. If you were strong enough, or you thought you could survive another day without it, you didn't use it. If you were smart, you stayed away from it all together." He paused as he turned his eyes slowly to her. "I guess I wasn't either."

They fell into an uncomfortable silence after that, but when they both looked up and their eyes met, she supposed she did a poor job of masking the unasked question.

Layton met that stare with an answer. "I never touched it again after the first few years. I decided I wanted to do something besides hide in the dark and pretend everything was all right. I decided I wanted to do something to make a difference in the Tail." A small smile kept over his lips then. "That's when I started being a pain in your backside."

Melanie tentatively returned his smile. But she regretted asking the question just the same as she watched him rolled back in the bed, pulling the covers out from underneath him and finally pull them around his body as he laid down in the bed, facing the door to the bedroom.

Quietly watching him for a moment, she eventually mimicked his actions.

Laying on her side she suddenly realized he had stopped the game and never asked his question. Rolling over, she turned to face him.

"You didn't finish the game." She whispered to him in the darkness. "You have to asked me a question now."

The body next to her rolled over as he turned to her.

"Why did you asked that question?" He whispered back to her.

Melanie shook her head at him as she returned an apologetic stare. "It wasn't to pry." She told him, then gave a small, half-hearted laugh. "I expected 'I stole an apple', or 'I kicked someone out of a more comfortable bunk'. Or maybe you tripped Ruth one day when she came down to the Tail."

Layton softly returned her laugh. "I thought about that last one. Does that count?"

Melanie gave him a small smile in the darkness before he finally rolled back over in the bed.

"Goodnight, Melanie." Came the usual statement.

But Melanie carefully scooted herself over across the bed and pulled up against his back. "You did what you had to do to survive." She whispered to him. "How many people could have endured what you've faced for SEVEN LONG YEARS? How many, Layton?"

She waited for an answer, but when none came she retreated back to her side of the bed. After laying on her back and staring at the ceiling for a few moments, she turned to him once more.

"Goodnight, Layton." She quietly echoed his statement before settling into an uneasy sleep.

True to the firmest unspoken rule of the game, she never repeated the disclosure to anyone else, but facts were facts and desperate times called for desperate measures. The two were, after all, doctors, and the information could be vital to Layton's treatment. And she was willing to do anything if it got him out of the drawers.

"Layton was in the Tail for almost seven years." She explained quietly. "Few Tailies didn't use Kronole in one form or another."

Klimpt seemed to consider the information. "If we release him from the drawers the virus will start to assault his body again. Right now we're slowly introducing antivirals into his system to try and help combat the infection. When we feel he's built up some sort of resistance, we may be able to release him then. We'll have to keep monitoring his blood levels."

"For how long?" Melanie asked.

Klimpt considered the question for a short time. "He's already showing some improvement, no matter how small. So I would suggest one week." He finally answered. "Then we'll see how he's responding."

Klimpt caught Melanie's disapproving look.

"He's alive, Ms. Cavill." He answered her unspoken question. "And as long as he stays in the drawers, he'll stay that way. Take him out, I won't give you a single guarantee he would even survive the night."

Melanie closed her eyes for a moment, considering her options. Not that she had very many.

"You're the doctor." She finally replied. "So I have to concede to your expertise in this matter. But if the drawer is ever opened, I want to be there. And when you take him out of stasis, I am to be there. Is that understood?"

"Are you back in charge of the train then?" Pelton asked, a note of suspicion in her voice.

Melanie only turned her eyes to her, fixed with a hard stare. "The council runs the train now." She replied. "But as a sitting member of the council, yes, I have some authority to issue orders on certain matters concerning the train."

Klimpt leaned over his desk. "I'm afraid not in this one, Ms. Cavill."

Melanie quickly shifted her stare to him. "Meaning?"

"This is not a matter 'concerning the train'. This is a medical matter, and therefore, a private one. And as you are already aware, Zarah Layton is Mr. Layton's closest relative on the train. She will be making any and all medical decisions for him while he can not make them for himself. As for whether or not you can be present when Mr. Layton is taken out of the drawers, that will also be Mrs. Layton's decision."

Melanie wasn't sure exactly how Zarah would yield her new found control over her ex-husband. But it didn't take her long to find out. Within the day she found herself barred from any contact with Layton as well as any information on his condition.

'It's only for a week.' She tried to consult herself as she sat in the silence of their cabin that night. But the consultation didn't stop her from mentally racking up a list of very descriptive adjectives for Layton's former wife as she worked on going to sleep later.

For seven years she had slept alone on the train for the most part. Then one night a shivering grizzly bear had ploughed it's way into her bed, complaining of being cold.

Now she found herself missing him more than she would ever admit even to herself.

He was someone to talk to. Someone to share ideas with. Someone to play a silly game with while they both worked on building some form of trust between them. He was someone to wake up to. Someone who would tell her he hoped she had a good day when she left the cabin, and welcomed her with a warm smile when she returned each night.

Someone who offered a comforting hug when the day had simply been too long.

Someone who she now desperately missed.

Yes. He had come to rely on her. Had needed her. But she was finding as time past she needed him just as much.

He had become a stabilizing force in her life. Something almost akin to a friend. But she told herself she would never allow that. 'Too many burned bridges'. She told herself. So she kept him at arms length.

But that seemed to be the one thing he wanted the most from her. And so he had started their 'game'. 'Secrets' he had called it one night when they were both bored out of their minds.

"Ladies first." He had explained the rules. "You get to ask me a question and I have to answer it honestly."

"And once you've answered it?" She asked cautiously, not sure if she wanted to play or not.

"Then I get to ask you a question."

Melanie thought long and hard about the game, but finally nodded in agreement.

"And you can't cheat." He quickly stipulated. "You have to tell the truth. That's the whole point of the game. And you can't stop playing after you ask your question."

Melanie had nodded again in agreement.

The game had started low key. Her first question had been 'What would you be doing right now if the freeze hadn't happened?'. He reciprocated with the same question, interested in garnering a peek into her life working for Wilford Industries.

But the more they played, the more personal the questions got.

'How did you sneak on the train?'

'Do you really like my cooking?'

'What was the worse thing you ever did on the train that you didn't get caught?'

'Were you ever married?'

'If you had a private cabin, would you go there?'

'Have you ever been in love with anyone?'

'Why did you really start the revolution?'

'Did you really not know how bad things were in the Tail?'

'What word best describes you?'

'Did you ever want to be anything else?'

'Did you leave any family behind?'

That had been Melanie's question one night. He already knew she had lost her entire family to the freeze, and he never broached a single question to bring that tragic memory back up for her. But she had been curious about his history just before the freeze. Had he tried to save anyone? Did he miss them? Did he see a loved one's face in the darkness of the middle of the night when he couldn't sleep?

Layton had told her his family was scattered all over the country. There had been no time to try to contact them and tell them about the train, and he doubted any of them survived.

That was one of the purposes of the 'game'. It started them talking. It served as a focal point. Sometimes the conversations were brief. But others they would end up talking half the night, jumping from one subject to another as they slowly learned about each other and their respective pasts. Sometimes the answered were disheartening. And sometimes they would end up laughing for hours.

But now she sat in the silence of the cabin and felt like it was the largest, most empty place on the train.

And that was how she found herself down in the Night Car that night. When she simply couldn't stand the silence anymore and sleep was no closer than it had been for the past several nights before she would get up and go down to the drawers car.

Melanie had just laid out the whole situation to Audrey as she sat at the far end of the bar, as much away from the crowd as she could get. Mostly she vented off about Layton's ex-wife keeping any and all information about his condition private.

"She's just being vindictive." Melanie stated with a deeply furrowed brow.

"She's being a dutiful wife, Melanie." Audrey answered her statement. "Looking after the best interests of her husband."

"'Former' husband." Came the stern reply.

Audrey gave a quiet sigh before answering her. "Regardless of how you see the situation, it is what it is. You'll just have to live with it."

Melanie looked up from her cup of tea. "I thought you would be supporting me in this, Audrey."

"What I'm doing is staying out of it." The head of the Night Car replied wisely. "Which is what you'll do as well if you're smart where those two are concerned. When Andre and Zarah get together, the sparks start to fly, for good or for bad. But what is never a question is that anyone standing too close is going to get burned. Stay out of that relationship, Melanie." She sternly advised again.

Melanie didn't answer, but watched as Audrey went off to tend to a customer who was waving at her for attention nearly hard enough to create a breeze across the bar.

In front of her, Melanie looked down at a piece of paper she had been working on. If nothing else, the events of the past several days had made her keenly aware that the governing system on the train were not as stable as Layton liked to believe.

Though still uncomfortable at the council meetings, she made it a point to attend every one while Layton was sick, studiously taking notes while she sat and listened to the opinions being fired around the table.

'Fired' was a nice word for how things were discussed in the council chamber now. Without Layton to lead the meetings and hold everyone accountable, the various governors did more arguing than anything else. Mostly about who was going to lead the train now.

'Pack of jackals.' Melanie thought to herself as she listened to them shout about why they were the better choice to take over. 'You're not even cold and they're throwing you into a ravine.' She told the train's absent Chancellor. 'And when you're well and you come back, will they even let you have your position back?'

She never allowed herself to think in any terms other than Layton's eventual return. She couldn't even get her mind to go in the other direction.

But she rarely voiced so much as a word while she sat there, not that anyone seemed particularly interested in anything she had to say at the moment anyway. All they seemed interested in was who was going to be the train's next Chancellor.

But on the fifth day she found she simply couldn't stand listening to them squabble anymore. It was like they were falling back to the old ways, just with a somewhat organized platform to stand on and complain about things now.

It was at that time that she was glad she had her former skills from leading the train. She was used to squabbling, bickering people. It seemed to be what they excelled at. But on this particular night she decided she had had enough of it.

Getting up out of her chair in the middle of the loudest part of the fighting, Melanie slammed her hands down on the table.

"ENOUGH!" She yelled at the room.

Every person around the table instantly fell silent. Not so much at her tone or what she had said, but that she had suddenly said anything at all.

Melanie didn't give one of them so much as a second to say anything as she quickly went on, her tone not lessening one bit. "I am sick of sitting here night after night and listening to NOTHING but you bickering over who is going to take over the train next! NO ONE is going to be the next leader of this train. Because this train does not have a leader anymore. No one person making decisions. It now has a council. Which is what you are suppose to be. A council of leaders, each representing your own group of people on this train. THEY are who you are suppose to be concerned about. Not who is going to sit in that chair next!" She stated, pointing to Layton's empty place at the table. "And I promise you, the only person who will be sitting in that chair, is Mr. Layton when he returns. Otherwise we risk dissolving all the hard work each and every one of you has put into this new system of governing the train. So stop fighting over who gets to wear the crown next." She finished, pushing back from the table. "Because I can tell you from personal experience, it isn't worth it."

And with that final warning, Melanie stormed out of the council chamber and didn't stop until she got to the cabin. Hurrying in, she gratefully listened to the door slide shut and the quiet of the room descend on her.

But only after a few moments past, a soft knock sounded at the door.

Melanie sighed as she turned to open the door, wondering which of the council members had tracked her down to lecture her on bad form. But to her surprise, standing at the door wasn't any member of the council.

Instead it was a young woman she recognized as one of Dr. Pelton's assistants.