Decon Team Antar
Chapter 41
XLI
The door opened softly, and Maria turned to look at the new decontamination-suited figure entering the room. It was Liz. Somehow Maria knew, even with the bulky suits that they both wore. Maybe it was the way Liz carried herself. Maybe it was her walk. Maybe it was some kind of connection that the two of them shared. Whatever it was, Maria knew.
"Liz!"
"Maria… How's Michael doing?"
Maria shook her head. "Not good, Liz. I'm worried."
Liz could see that Maria was shaking. She knew that it wasn't from the virus. Maria hadn't been affected by the virus… at least, not that anyone could tell. But she still wore the suit as a precaution… and to avoid spreading it to others… others who could get it… and who might die.
Liz hugged Maria as best she could through the bulky suits. Somehow it wasn't very satisfying. But it would have to do.
"He's still in a coma," Maria said, her voice breaking. "How's Max?"
"He's starting to come out of it, Maria. Maybe Michael will, too."
Liz looked at Michael, and Maria picked his hand up in her bulky, gloved hand. Somehow Maria's touch seemed gentle, caressing, even with the gloves on.
Michael looked so pale… almost ashen. He lay on the small hospital-style bed… so still. It scared Liz. She could only imagine how Maria must feel. She knew how she felt with Max.
"Michael's going to make it, Maria. He's got to. We just have to believe."
"I try, Liz. You know I do. I don't want to have negative thoughts. But…" Maria started to cry softly… "Look at him, Liz. He's more dead than alive now."
Liz looked at Michael again. She wanted to comfort Maria, reassure her. But what could she say? The still, ashen figure lying in front of them spoke more than any amount of words could. Liz looked at Maria's face, streaming with tears inside the mask.
"Screw this, Maria!"
Liz reached up and removed her own facemask and head covering then stripped out of her bulky decon suit. She was wearing a simple pair of short pants and one of Max's shirts that hung loosely over the shorts. Maria took her mask and suit off, too, and hugged Liz to her. Then she cried.
"Liz…" Maria said after a few moments, her voice catching momentarily. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't think I can go on if Michael dies…"
"You can, Maria. You're strong. Stronger than you know. But let's not talk about Michael dying. He's going to make it. Just keep saying that!" Liz rubbed her hands up and down Maria's back as she held her close in a gentle embrace. She wiped another tear off of Maria's cheek and pressed her cheek to Maria's. "Have faith in Michael, Maria. I don't know how, but somehow Michael will come through… He has to."
"I keep saying that, Liz. The hard part is believing it… especially when I look at him lying there like that."
Liz brushed a tear from her own cheek. "Try to think of his spirit when you look at him, Maria… his strong, vibrant spirit. He's still here. We just have to pull him through this."
Maria nodded.
A decon-suited face peered through the small window in the door, then the new visitor knocked.
"We'd better get our suits back on, Maria. The doctors are back."
Maria nodded. "Thanks, Liz."
Liz smiled and replaced her facemask, and Maria replaced hers, then both girls replaced their suits.
"I needed that," Maria said softly.
The face in the door window waited until the two girls were completely suited then came into the room. One could hardly blame them for their caution. No one on Antar had ever lived through a plague like this. The results were horrifyingly obvious to everyone now. It was something that no one wanted to take a chance with or experience themselves. In fact, in the case of full-blooded Antarians, it appeared that few would ever be able to say that they had experienced it. Almost all those who had contracted it had died already. The only real hope the Antarians had was to avoid getting it.
Three health scientists and two Sh'dax-ats, or "cosmic scientists," of which Varec was one, entered the room, dressed in full decon suits. The term "Sh'dax-at" didn't actually translate well from the Antarian. It meant "one who is cosmically aware," and in all the known galaxies there were maybe a dozen at most. Varec was one. Danar-Sol, the preeminent medical researcher and biologist of Xarius, was another. In simpler terms, sh'dax-at meant one who knew everything there was to know in the cosmos… well, everything that any one person could be expected to ever learn anyway. It was a title of singular and great honor. On all of Antar, there were only two scientists who had attained the level and title of Sh'dax-at, and both of them were here in this room now.
Liz touched Varec on the arm, and he looked at her. His eyes looked tired. But they also shone keenly with something else… genuine and overpowering compassion. Varec was suffering almost as much as Liz and Maria were… perhaps not in the same way, but suffering all the same. Michael and Max were very close to him. But Varec suffered with the feelings of every Antarian. He especially bore the scars left by the ones who hadn't made it. He felt that he had lost members of his family… his children. He felt… responsible.
"We're going to beat this," Liz said encouragingly. Varec smiled feebly and nodded. He did not seem convinced.
"Put the Kiren mist into his lungs," Varec said to one of the health scientists, a young woman about Liz's age. She placed a bag-like device under Michael's nose and pressed the bottom, sending a poof of powdery mist into Michael's nose and lungs. Michael did not move.
"We've done this three times today," Varec said to Liz and Maria. "It hasn't had any visible effect, I'm afraid."
"They put that into Max's lungs," Liz said to Maria, "and it seemed to help him. He started to come around shortly after they did it."
Maria nodded.
"We're hoping it may be the cure," Liz said.
"Where did it come from," Maria asked.
"Varec, Ayr'gith, and I created it. It seems to help some individuals. We called it the Kiren mist, because the principal ingredient in the substance that it's made from comes from the planet Kiren from the invisible roots of the corschar fungus that grows there on the bottoms of logs that have lain for a hundred years or more on the soft ground of the Farv'yat Forest."
"Have you cured many people?"
Liz looked visibly saddened, and she shook her head. "We think Max may be out of danger. Besides him, there were two little boys from the Jarnat Region who responded to the mist and are now apparently well… and they're full Antarians. But they were young… ten and twelve years old. We're working now on a possible second generation mist using antibodies from their blood and combining the antibodies with the Kiren mist."
"Have you cured anyone else?"
Liz shook her head. "Except for these three cases, the best we've been able to do is keep some people alive… for now. It's… it's just not enough."
Maria rubbed Liz's arm with her glove. "That's something, Liz. Those people would be dead now if it weren't for you and Varec… and Ayr'gith."
"I know… but a lot of others are dead. We need more to fight this with. It's just not enough."
"Ma… Maria."
It was almost inaudible, especially through the decon suits, but Maria heard it.
"Michael?" Maria rushed to Michael's side. He didn't appear to be as ashy white as he had been. Some of the color was coming back. Michael opened his eyes. "Maria, I feel like shit. I feel like a herd of yeggs trampled me down and stomped on my head over and over."
Maria began to laugh.
"It's not funny," Michael tried to say through his parched lips and airway.
"I know, Michael. I'm laughing because I love you," Maria said, "and you're alive!" She reached down and put her head, mask and all, next to Michael's and hugged him.
"I'm thirsty," Michael said. "Can I get something to drink?"
"I'll get you a little water," Varec said.
"Could you… could you… put just a little Tabasco in it… for flavor?"
"He's gonna make it," Liz said, smiling. Maria nodded, and tears ran freely down her face.
tbc