Chapter Three: Answers
Bashir put Trystmar under general anesthesia to take the tissue sample from Shan; what the host perceived as injury to the symbiont could easily send Trystmar into a state of shock if he were conscious.
Trystmar sat up slowly after Bashir had given him the drug to reverse the anesthetic, the lingering effects still making him a little groggy.
"How do you feel?" Bashir questioned, scanning his abdomen.
"All right…a little sore."
"Mm. You should probably rest here for an hour or so, and then if you aren't showing any ill effects I can release you, as long as you avoid strenuous activity for a day or so."
"We're leaving tomorrow…is there any danger…?"
Bashir shook his head. "If you're going to have a reaction requiring medical intervention it will be in the next couple hours — and I really don't expect you to. Now, I should know something for sure within a month; how can I get in contact with you?"
"You could try sending a message to the ship, but if we're planetside I might not get it… We'll be passing this way again sometime after the Stenhovron trial; I don't expect that to be over in less than two weeks, and then with travel time it would be over a month… Could I just contact you for an appointment when we reach the station?"
"That will work," Bashir agreed.
oOo
Bashir now found himself hoping for quiet days, even staying in the infirmary beyond the end of his shift. Research with the goal of aiding a patient with whom he was involved personally was far more absorbing than research for its own sake, no matter how many people he knew it might eventually help.
By the time Trystmar Shan returned to the station, Bashir was satisfied that he had some answers for him, though he said nothing when the young man called beyond fixing the time of the appointment.
When Trystmar arrived in the infirmary, Dr Bashir was startled at how pale he was. Earlier he had suspected something wrong only because of the young man's manner; now he actually appeared ill. "Are you all right?" he asked in concern.
Trystmar smiled tightly, leaning against the biobed and clutching it to still his trembling fingers. "That's what I'm here to have you tell me, isn't it?"
Bashir rested a hand on Trystmar's pulse. "Yes, but Ogravrett's wouldn't be affecting you this soon; do you feel as if you're coming down with something more… common?"
Trystmar shook his head. "I haven't been sleeping well the past month, that's all."
"Or eating properly either, I'd guess," Bashir said sternly. "That will weaken your defenses; I should check and make sure you haven't picked up a touch of something."
Trystmar shook his head. "Let's just get this over with; I don't think I can stand waiting much longer." He clenched his fingers on the edge of the biobed until the knuckles turned white, fearful he already knew the answer by the fact that Bashir had yet to tell him.
Bashir sighed. "Shan did test positive as a carrier," he admitted quietly.
Trystmar drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. "And…me?"
"Positive."
Trystmar felt his knees go weak, and yet a strange sense of relief washed over him, as if he could face the worst better now that he knew it for sure and wasn't constantly alternating fear with a kind of desperate hope.
"That's it, then," he said, drawing a deep breath, his face so pale that Bashir feared he might faint. "But I won't die that way — not again. As soon as the symptoms show, I'm having the symbiont removed; better to die relatively quickly and painlessly from disjoining. Of course, that still dooms the next host; if I can't convince the Council to have Shan attenuated, maybe a phaser shot to the stomach will be better." He laughed bitterly. "I suppose I shouldn't have told you; now you'll want me on antidepressants or something. But I'm not suicidal — I don't want to die, I just —"
"I understand," Bashir said gently. "I can't say I approve, and if you were in my care at the time, on my Oath as a physician I would have to do all in my power to prevent you, but I do understand. However, it may not have to come to that."
Trystmar shrugged. "Oh, I may die of other causes like those two hosts who escaped, but it still dooms Shan's next host — though with my memories, he'll know what to do."
"True, but that wasn't what I was referring to. There's a vaccine for Ogravrett's that's effective if given during the incubation period."
Trystmar blinked. "Why didn't you tell me last time?" he whispered hollowly.
"I wasn't aware of it then," Bashir admitted. "But I wasn't about to let you go with just a diagnosis; I've been doing research since you left. Apparently the vaccine is too hard to produce to be given to everyone, and Ogravrett's syndrome is too rare and hard to detect to be looked for in a routine physical; it would only show on a standard blood test if it happened to be the short period of time when the person was contagious. By the time the symptoms show, it's too late for the vaccine to be effective." Bashir shrugged. "Unfortunately, that means most cases still go untreated, despite a cure being available."
"And — what about Shan?" Trystmar questioned. "Will it cure him, too?"
"Just by itself, probably not," Bashir admitted. "Which wouldn't necessarily be a problem; each new host would just have to be vaccinated. But I've thought of a way to possibly disinfect the symbiont — only it isn't without risk."
"How much risk?" Trystmar questioned.
"It's difficult to say for sure, since this is a treatment I developed specifically for your case and it has yet to be tested. I expect you will be quite ill for some time, and there's about a twenty-five percent chance that nothing will be accomplished by it; that Shan will still be a carrier. There's even a five percent chance that he won't survive it, and you would die of disjoining. I understand that Trill put the life of the symbiont above everything, so if you don't want to take the chance, that's fine. You can just have each host get vaccinated; I won't take offense or consider my work wasted. I expect that's the route the Trill Council would advise you to take."
"Probably," Trystmar admitted. "But joined Trill are on active duty in Starfleet, and in a battle situation the risk of death is probably at least five percent…" He was silent for a moment in thought. "I'd like to try," he said finally. "And that isn't just me saying so; my previous hosts would agree, and so does Shan himself. And if the Council hears about it and wants to make trouble for me, I think I'm a good enough lawyer to argue my way out of it."
Bashir nodded acceptance of Trystmar's decision. "Since it is an experimental procedure, you'll have to sign a waiver beforehand stating that you understand the risks." He grinned. "Being a lawyer, you're probably one of the few who really will understand what you're signing."
Trystmar chuckled. "Watch out for loopholes," he warned teasingly. "So, how long will this treatment take?"
"Another thing I can't tell you for sure," Bashir admitted ruefully. "I can give you the vaccine as soon as I make sure you're healthy; I could start the treatment maybe a week later, as long as your immune system is in peak condition. But how long it will actually take… Given what I know of Ogravrett's syndrome, possibly upwards of several months, but that's basically just a guess."
Trystmar groaned. "Bendris is not going to be happy to hear that."
"It doesn't have to be immediately," Bashir informed him. "I'd like to administer the vaccine right away, since the effective period wasn't entirely clear, and you'd have to stay on the station for at least three days so I can monitor you for any adverse effects. But I don't think there's any real hurry about treating Shan if it would be more convenient to come back in a year or so."
Trystmar shook his head. "I'd rather get it over with, and there never will be a convenient time to take a couple months off. Better do it while I'm here; it was hard enough to convince him to come back this time. He couldn't see why a 'young, healthy Trill' should need a follow-up appointment."
"So how did you convince him?" Bashir questioned, a smile twitching at his lips.
Trystmar shrugged. "Oh, I just told him you'd run a test and hadn't gotten the results before we left — which was perfectly true. He didn't think the test could be all that important, but since it was practically on our way he finally agreed to stop. He wasn't bargaining for a couple of months, though."
"Have you told him about the Ogravrett's syndrome?" Bashir asked quietly.
Trystmar gave a quick shrug of impatience. "Oh, he knows I was concerned about it when I was first joined. He also knows the Trill doctors told me there was nothing to worry about; as far as he's concerned that should be the end of it. He doesn't believe in going to doctors much, anyway."
"I gathered as much," Bashir said dryly. "Would you prefer if I talk to him?"
"If you wouldn't mind," Trystmar said, relief evident in his voice. "He won't accept it easily in any case, but it might at least have more weight coming from you."
Bashir nodded. "I will, then," he promised. "But for now, why don't you come to an exam room, and I'll give you a quick scan to see if you're fit to take that vaccine."
Next chapter coming next week!
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