There was little time for celebration. Morgan was revived and, leaning heavily against his wife, stumbled away to fresher air and less appalling sights. Julia cleaned Walman's wounds thoroughly, checking and rechecking his tissue. Only when she was sure there was nothing more to be done did she collect the soiled dressings and use them to gather the mess from the floor. Carefully, so nothing dropped, she carried the putrid bunch to the fire outside and tossed it in. She peeled and added her gloves to the burning material. The flames flared, greedily consuming the moist fuel. The doctor stood mesmerized at the sight. Withered by the intense heat, the matter twisted, popped and fizzed.
"Julia!" Yale's voice sounded from the head-gear around the doctor's neck.
She raised the set, her hands burning from the motion. The suction from the gloves removal had opened ulcerations. Runny yellow pus snaked across skin gray with fatigue.
"It's Alonzo." The tutor sounded breathless. "I had to tie him down. He's delirious."
Alonzo's screams could be heard over the doctor's headset even as he spoke.
"I'll be right there."
As Julia reached the isolation tent, she called Bess, urging her to hurry. Despite the urgency, she still went through the rituals of keeping her patient safe from additional infection. Considering the treatment she was condoning, it all seemed ridiculous, but her behavior was ingrained, the result of years of following proper procedure.
Yale waited impatiently, unnerved by the pilot's agonizing cries.
"It's because he's bound and unable to move. He feels trapped. He keeps reliving the nightmare," Julia explained to the elderly man. The doctor leaned over her patient. "Alonzo, can you hear me?"
The sick pilot gave no indication he did. He continued to toss from side to side while struggling against his bonds. Deep suppurating ulcerations on his chest and legs began to erupt, filling the air with the jarring smell of corruption.
Alonzo's mind was tortured by fever as an unending nightmare replayed behind his blinded eyes. A war waged within him, and the heat of the conflict burned the body's fluids faster than they could be replaced. Sweat streamed from every pore of his ravaged body, mixing with blood and the liquid poison of infection. The cot beneath him was soaked with his own soil.
Morgan's wife called meekly from outside. Julia turned away briefly and asked Yale to see to Bess' preparation. When the woman was ready, Julia left Alonzo's room, and together they prepared the agent in the lab area.
"Bess, he's very sick. It's not a pretty sight, much worse than Walman. I'll understand if you don't want to go any further, but I need to know now. I can't worry about you once we start."
Bess Martin was a petite woman. Her fragile beauty was suddenly contrasted by a steely-eyed glint. Her chin rose in stubborn determination. "Don't worry on my account. Between blasts and cave-ins back in the mines, I've seen and treated my share of maimed and mangled bodies."
"Then, I guess we're ready to proceed."
Holding the extra light they would need, Yale opened the flap for the two women. Bess's eyes widened the instant they fell on the pilot. Instinctively she glanced over at Julia and found the other woman studying her reaction. Her horror and revulsion changed to one of pity and compassion. It was the doctor who looked away first.
With Bess across from her and Yale at Alonzo's head, Julia began the tedious task of inserting into the tainted flesh the tiny specks Bess had gathered from the root. Once planted, each incision had to be closed off so the agent was effectively sealed within. There, it would thrive in a bacterial soup. Soon, it would begin to feed on the custard-thick liquid and dead tissue of Alonzo's wounds.
Bess lost track of time. It felt like hours since they had started and she was aware of a growing stiffness in her limbs. She glanced up at Yale when he switched the light from one hand to the other. His expression never changed as he studied Julia's work. The doctor was oblivious to everything but her task.
The injured pilot's leg jerked as Julia cut into a large boil on his thigh. She reached for more of the agent that Bess held. For the first time, Morgan's wife caught a slight trembling in the other woman's hands. Alonzo twisted and twitched in obvious pain under the continuous pricking. His protests were muffled by the tube down his throat. From what Bess could tell, most of it was the gabbled nonsense of fever-induced disorientation.
To Alonzo it was very real. Caught and unable to move, he felt the beast moving across his body. Its white hot fingers poked and invaded his flesh. Thirst burned his throat dry. He tried to cry out for water, but some obstruction blocked his effort. The thought that a tentacle had penetrated his mouth and was working its way down his throat brought panic. He began to hyperventilate.
When the pilot began to gasp for air, Julia was forced to stop. She pulled a sedi-derm from the pocket of her gown and pressed it against his neck. The pilot slumped as the drug took effect.
"That's the last of it," she told them. "It's not a full dose, but it should keep him quiet until we finish." She shook from a sudden chill.
"Are you all right?"
"We have to finish before the drug wears off."
Her two assistants exchanged worried glances.
"I have a fever. It's causing chills," she explained. "Yale, I need more light here. Come closer beside me."
"Julia, if you want to lie down, I can finish up here," Bess offered.
"I'm all right."
"No, you're not. Why are you denying it? What good will you do Alonzo if you end up killing yourself."
Never missing a beat with her work, Julia replied, "Bess, I'm not denying anything. If I don't find a way to neutralize the toxin, the four of us may die. Your treatment will buy some time, but it's not a cure."
"You expect Danziger to become sick, also?"
"Not only do I expect it, I intend to study it. He's four days behind us on the curve. I've taken samples of his blood. Hopefully, I can learn something about the progression of the substance." Putting down her instruments, she added, "That should do it. Now we have to wait."
Since it was almost dawn, they arranged a watch schedule. Julia went to check on Walman and Danziger while Bess went back to her tent to grab a nap. Yale remained to watch over the pilot.
Alonzo drifted in a sea of torment. Wave-patterns of pain and fever carried him up crests and down troughs in an endless, cycled rhythm. With the pain, came the stench of death. Time was measured in a few brief lucid periods. It was then he began to realize that the smell was the rotting of his own flesh.
He wished for death, to be freed from the shell of a near-dead corpse that continued to hold him prisoner. He seemed doomed to remain bound, helpless and blind to the people and events happening around him.
As the drug wore off, he squirmed and writhed. Along with screaming pain of exposed nerve-ends came a new sensation. It was as if tiny bubbles had formed under his skin and were moving about just under the surface. In the dark recesses of his mind, a long forgotten memory of a dark alley on some distant station surfaced and with it the sight of what festers on things long dead.
As the hours passed, Yale noticed the first signs that something was occurring in the younger man's body. Alonzo's skin twitched in response to an unseen stimulus. The cyborg laid a gloved hand against a rippled area and felt a faint movement. Julia ducked in and startled him.
"Is everything all right?"
"He seems disturbed. Since the implant, he has been very restless."
Julia monitored her patient's vital signs. "His fever has dropped, which is a good sign, but we still have hours to wait. If you're okay, I have things I need to attend to in the lab."
"I'm fine. Bess will be relieving me soon."
The doctor nodded. The cyborg saw her eyes linger on the injured man's face. The angry red of first degree burns had been replaced by flaking patches of dead skin. The ordeal had left its mark. A gaunt, haunted look overlaid his handsome features.
"He's been through so much," she said sadly.
The last few days had taken a toll on the young woman, too, the tutor thought. Thin already, flesh seemed to have melted off her frame like wax before a flame. The pale blue eyes where glazed and sunken.
"So have you. Why don't you at least try to rest?"
"No time," she responded before exiting into the lab.
Julia got right to work. Adding a drop of Danziger and Walman's blood samples to each slide, she passed them under the lens of the microscope. Her eyes blurred as she attempted to study the images. She closed her eyes and felt instant relief. It was so tempting to give in to a much needed sleep.
Her gear buzzed. It was Baines reporting from the DuneRail. He was a few minutes outside of camp, returning from the shopping trip Julia had sent him on. She had given him a list of plants she needed to synthesize new medication. He had found some of what she needed.
The doctor rose wearily. Rest would have to wait.
By the time the doctor shed her over-gown, Baines had pulled the DuneRail as close as he dared to the isolation tent. The back was filled with an assortment of flora, most of which Julia had requested and some she had not. Her eyes were drawn to the bright red flowers on the floor.
"What's this?" she questioned, reaching for the bouquet.
The young black man looked embarrassed. "I picked them for Denner."
The doctor shot him a strange look.
"They were growing right by some other stuff you wanted, it wasn't like I went looking for them." He felt guilty about not finding everything she requested.
"You'd better let me check them first."
Julia ran her diaglove over the flowers, checking the molecular structure. Baines watched as surprise registered on her face. She pulled a hard, round seed capsule that was mixed in with the blossoms and scanned it again. Cutting into it, a milky latex leaked out.
"They're not poisonous or anything are they?"
"No. Were there more like this?"
"Yea, but I only picked the ones that were blooming. Why? Is this something you can use?"
"Yes. I want you to go back. Collect the ones that are exactly like this."
Bess came on the scene as the technician drove off. She bent to help Julia carry the botanical collection inside. Seeing the flowers in Julia's hand, she remarked, "They're pretty."
"They're much more than that. Do you have any idea what I have here?"
"No, we didn't have flowers in the mines." She fingered the necklace she wore. The pendant held a blossom encased in acrylic resin. "This is as close as I came. I was told this was one of the last wildflowers that grew on earth."
"You are looking at G889's version of Palaver somniferous."
Bess looked at the doctor blankly.
"An opium poppy." For the first time in days, Julia's voice held a spark of excitement.
Morgan's wife's eyes grew wide as she regarded the flower with new respect.
"Bess, this is a God-send. It's so hard to believe that of all the flowers out there, Baines just happened to pick the one that will produce the substance I need most - morphine. He didn't even pick them for medicinal reasons but as a surprise for Denner. I scanned them to be sure they were harmless."
"I find it hard to believe he's romantic enough to pick flowers," Bess remarked cynically.
"Romantic or not, if he comes back with a large enough supply to do Alonzo some good, I'll kiss him myself. In the meantime, let's get to work on what we have."
For the rest of the afternoon, Bess and Julia worked breaking down the plant life into useable compounds until Baines returned. Then Bess looked after Alonzo while Yale and Julia processed the chestnut-colored sticky opium mass of the seed capsules into the alkaloid morphine.
At one point, the tutor left the tent long enough to bring them back dinner. They took turns eating in the alcove. Overwhelmed by fatigue and illness, Julia toyed with the food on her plate.
"Julia, we have accomplished much today. I can finish what we have begun. Why don't you try to sleep?" the tutor asked.
"It will be time soon."
"Not for a few more hours. Enough time for you to take a much needed nap. I promise, I'll wake you as soon as it's time."
Surprisingly, she didn't argue. Yale helped her to cross the room and lie down. As the older man covered her, the young woman pulled the blanket tightly around herself to seal in the warmth. Within seconds, she was asleep.
Julia hugged the ragged coverlet as if it could offer some protection against the dreams that haunted her. Once more she was struggling to prevent Danziger from raising the Mag-Pro, only this time it wasn't Walman who pulled her away. With arms holding her tightly, it was her lover who whispered in her ear.
"Julia, let me go."
Startled, she looked up into Alonzo's burned face. In place of his beautiful brown eyes were empty socketless holes.
She screamed and he captured her against him.
"Julia!"
She sobbed burying her head against the solid mass of his chest.
"Noooo!.. I promised you."
"Shhh. It's all right. It was just a dream. I came to wake you. It's time."
The doctor looked up into deep brown eyes filled with concern. Yale held her gently.
Julia was so shaken from the vision, it took several moments for her to regain her composure and shed the nightmarish reality of the dream. "I'm sorry." Her hand trembled as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. "It seemed so real."
"You're feverish. The dreams may be a form of delirium. Perhaps you should rest and let Bess and I do what needs to be done."
"No. It will take the three of us. I have to be sure it's all gone and Alonzo is out of danger before I can rest."
The tutor helped the young woman to her feet. After she readied herself, they drew aside the heavy plastic flap and entered the isolated chamber.
Julia noticed that, while she slept, Yale and Bess had readied the area. Large containers of sterilized water and dressings waited in close proximity to the cot. There were also disposal containers in strategic locations. The doctor bent over her patient and checked the diaglove readings.
"I've been giving him the dose you recommended," the tutor informed her. "It seems to be working. He's resting more comfortably."
"Alonzo? Can you hear me?"
A soft groan issued from the pilot's throat.
"I've been giving you medication to dull the pain. Some of your wounds are infected and I've inserted something into your body to remove the poison. Yale and Bess are here. They're going to help me remove it. Don't be alarmed by any strange sensations you may feel. I'll be monitoring your condition the whole time."
There was a slight nod of his head, as if he understood. Her eyes were drawn to the dressing around his eyes. A momentary flashback of the dream resurfaced until Bess' voice broke the spell.
"I'm ready when you are."
Julia forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand. Each of them would be required to focus on the removal. To miss a single bit of the organism would prove deadly since it was ready to begin the next stage of its development. The time was at hand for the parasite to begin to burrow deep into its host's flesh. There it would await transformation.
Julia gave last minute instructions to her assistants as she assessed their readiness. As the doctor readied her scalpel, their eyes meet briefly, as they offered each other support.
The flesh around the sealed wound stretched tautly against the mass that had ripened beneath it. Julia's cut spilt the thin skin, bursting it like a ripe fruit. Out spilled a profusion of sticky, transparent worms. They clumped together like small white grapes, having grown fat with the sustenance of Alonzo's poisoned body fluids. Robbed of their warm, moist home, the maggots wiggled and squirmed in desperation, crawling over each other in an attempt to reenter the safety of the wound.
Bess and Yale began scooping the larvae into pails, then flushing the area free of any hangers-on. Julia proceeded to the next wound, repeating the procedure over and over.
Wrapped in the soft, dark clouds of morphine, Alonzo was only vaguely aware of whispered voices. The pain was dulled, but he could still hear and feel the wet suction around his belly as something was removed from his living flesh. He laid helplessly vulnerable to a constantly evasive poking and pulling of the three sets of hands that worked on him.
The doctor surveyed the final wound to be cleaned. It was a long, jagged gash on the pilot's upper right thigh. The leg had swollen like an unnaturally colored balloon. Movement beneath the skin of hundreds of greedy maggots caused a slow rippling motion. Alonzo's skin twitched. Julia had seen the same response in Pegasus' hide as the horse reacted to the pestering stings and bites of insects. Julia saw the worms only as a torment now and she was anxious to end their affliction.
Her vision blurred as she focused on the pilot's deformed limb. Manipulating the diaglove caused a searing agony of pressure on the burned tissue of her hand. Julia steeled herself against the pain and cut into the swollen flesh. The wrinkled, tough skinned larvae burst forth, mixed in a froth of bloody fluid. The pilot groaned as she dug a gloved hand into the thick muscle and scooped the squirming mass into the stainless steel receptacle. The bowl soon became full, so she shoved it away and got another. In the discarded bowl, the agitated worms broke apart and crawled along the lip, seeking a return to warmth and safety.
Alonzo arched beneath Bess. When she heard him gasp, she looked to see what was causing his distress. Across from her, Yale was busy washing a wound with saline solution. Her gaze traveled down to the pilot's restrained leg. It flinched under Julia's diaglove.
"Julia?"
The doctor ignored the other woman. Bent close to the wound, she appeared to be working furiously at something.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
Morgan's wife left her position and came around beside the doctor. Bess laid a hand on the woman's shoulder and felt Julia jump, but the doctor remained concentrated on her task. Bess peered closer. The glove's laser was cutting into the pilot's quadricep.
"My God, what are you doing?"
"I can't get them out. They're burrowing into the rectus femoris."
Bess looked closer and saw nothing. Her eyes flashed back to the doctor's. Through the plastic hood, she saw a woman possessed. Julia's eyes, widely dilated in their sunken sockets, reflected some maniacal vision. Dark ringlets of sweat dampened hair lay against the unnatural set and paleness of her face.
"No! You're wrong. Julia, stop!"
Bess locked her arm around Julia's, forcing the doctor's arm down and breaking the contact of the diaglove on the injured man. When she attempted to pull Julia away, the doctor fought back. Locked together, they spun in a tight circle before Bess managed to trip her, then pin her to the ground.
"No..let me go...I have to get them out." Julia struggled against Bess, trying to free herself.
"Julia, you're hallucinating. There's nothing there."
Yale slipped up beside them, pushing aside Julia's hood enough to expose her neck. Bess heard the hiss of the sedaderm and saw the momentary confusion on Julia's face before she went limp.
"Whatever that was, it worked. Thanks." Bess breathed a sigh of relief.
"I made a small dose of sedative this afternoon from what Baines brought back. Julia was concentrating on the morphine. I thought I should be doing something."
"Alonzo!" Bess grabbed the cyborg's arm and they rushed to the pilot's side.
The tutor studied the damage. "She must have just started when you noticed something was wrong. It's not as bad as it could have been."
He pulled out a few vagrant worms. "Could this be what she saw? They are easily removed."
Bess looked back at the unconscious woman. "She's really sick, Yale. God knows what she thought she saw. I'll start on her as soon as we finish with Alonzo."
They carried the unconscious woman to the adjoining room and removed the heavy plastic gown and gloves. Leaving her deep in a drug induced sleep, they returned to clean and stabilize the pilot to the point where Yale was able to take over. Only then did Bess slip out to attend to Julia.
Julia's hands were covered in raw, open sores - all badly septic. Bess needed none of the doctor's fancy equipment to tell her the cause of the woman's high fever. Laying out a fresh supply of egg-speckled root beside her, she began her gruesome task of inserting the fly's larvae into the putrid flesh.
Julia tossed in delirious sleep, besieged by dreams. Bess covered her in cool compresses, hoping to draw away the rising heat within the sick woman. Her body's thermostat had been reset, using fever as a defense mechanism to destroy the multiplying bacteria. Unchecked, a steadily climbing temperature could cause brain damage and death. The larvae were hours away from hatching.
Julia felt the coolness on her skin. She stood on a high mesa, searching for Alonzo. The night wind was sweeping the soft sand of the desert floor, erasing the history of the day. Morning would find the earth a clean slate, as if nothing had gone before.
He stood at the edge of the cliff - tall and strong - looking toward the horizon, a dark silhouette, outlined by heat lightning flashing in the distance. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning against the soft skin of the jacket. His scent mixed in the smell of leather. She held on to the moment, memorizing every detail, knowing that joy was fleeting.
"I've been so afraid."
She embraced emptiness. Like a ghost, he was gone.
She gripped the empty jacket and cried out, "Don't leave me!"
Yale looked in. Bess was fighting a war of heat and cold. She looked up and answered his unspoken question.
"She must be reliving the time we left her. I'll be right back. I need more blankets."
Yale nodded, seeing that the doctor was racked by chills. Bess had wrapped Julia in a thin coverlet and added Alonzo's jacket for extra warmth.
Yale turned. The pilot had become tense. His head cocked sideways as he strained toward the sounds in the other room.
Morphine was like oil on a heaving sea, it coated and laid down waves of pain. The pilot drifted in its calming embrace. Julia's cry was like a stone skipping across the tranquil surface of this sea. It broke and sent a rippling effect through the barrier that dulled his senses. He searched for her again in darkness as he had months before, calling her name over and over. He was aware of her presence, could almost feel the physical touch of her need.
"Julia? Where are you? JULIA!!"
To Yale, it was a gagged scream of frustration. He ended it with another shot of morphine. The pilot felt the pressure and heard the hiss of hypo-spray. The effect was immediate. Like the solid force of a breaking wave, it swept over and engulfed him. His fragile link with Julia was broken. Her voice, begging him to stay, faded into silence.
--end Part 8--