Over the next few hours, McCoy's quiet sickbay was filled with the computer's jarring, cheerful voice as their patient scrolled through seemingly every image in their database. Uhura, or Spock more like, had figured up a queueing system, as familiar phrases started cropping up repeatedly.
"Still too early," became his mantra to the requests to see the children. He finally took a picture of the blasted timer, resetting it long enough to show the full four hours on the dial, and recorded his voice saying just that, rather than the more sensible, "Clock."
He regretted that action less than an hour after he did it. The computer's chipper interpretation of his words mixed into the conglomeration.
When the timer went off again, the PADD rang with "Still too early! Incubator. Children. Still too early!"
"Ug. That'll tell me about putting in a false entry in that. Alright, alright, just a moment."
He had to put down the fresh roll of gauze he'd been applying over a weeping thigh wound, changed gloves, and went to the incubator.
"Child. Child. Child."
"Yes, yes. Time to rotate. Let me do that first."
Once again, he methodically turned each. About half way in, he realized that his work was accompanied by the near-silence of oxygen, scanners, and life support systems. The talkative PADD down on the side table.
"We're going to have to see if Uhura can help figure out a system about asking if I'm doing this right for your species..." He frowned. "No, I can do it. Hand that to me, will you?"
He reached towards the PADD, fingers opening and closing dramatically. Eyes flicked back and forth, in a moment realizing he needed the little computer.
With utmost care, he set the PADD against the edge and recorded video of different types of rotations he could do, using a roll of gauze as the dummy to demonstrate what he needed: quarter-, half-, full-rotations, rotating along the long side, across the wide side. Lifting an "egg" up, putting it down again. Covered, uncovered. Pushed to the edge of the container, pulled in to the middle.
When he finished recording everything he could think of, he handed the PADD back.
"This is what I have been doing," he said, before selecting videos of exactly how he'd been doing it.
The hand hovered a moment, before selecting the same.
McCoy selected the same set of three videos, then reached into the incubator and preformed just that act, nothing more.
A tap to the glass of the incubator, then four other videos selected.
Another nod from McCoy, repeating the selection, then preforming the same on the next egg.
The same four videos queued up again and McCoy repeated the action again.
"Doctor Leonard McCoy," the computer stated with its usual precision. "Child. Half-rotation along the X-axis. Pointed end tilted down. Push it to the center. Next child a thumb's width away. Incubator. Doctor Leonard McCoy."
He couldn't help but grin. Uhura had guessed earlier that day that a quick repeat of the items, but with their face, meant a thank-you. At least it wasn't a correction.
He finished the rest of the eggs, following the same procedure with an unblinking stare and a quiet room to accompany his actions.
When he finished, the familiar chant of "Child. Child. Child." Started again. Assuming it meant that he needed to show that they were safe again, he plucked up another grower.
A soft caress greeted it, then another quick succession of taps, getting the same chant, then a tap the the glass on what he'd been thinking of as the "dead end."
McCoy frowned. He ached to play dumb, keep pulling up the good ones, but he had a feeling that would last only so long.
With his mouth set in a thin line, he put back the good, and reached for one of the ones with obvious cracks.
A few short spasms of the ribcage shook the whole frame. The fingers fluttered over the breaks. McCoy flinched as a fleck of shell broke away, revealing the hard boiled meat within. If one of his human patients had seen the same in their own children...
Unblinking eyes went back to the PADD. A long list of words and images passed through, before settling on "Stone."
"I suppose 'dead' would be a hard picture for Uhura to find on such short notice," McCoy spoke beyond the lump in his throat.
"Doctor Leonard McCoy. Child. Stone."
"Wish I knew what you wanted."
"Stone. Stone. Stone. Mountain. Island. Soil. Forest. Cliffs. Bluffs. Cave. Cave. Cave. Cave. Child. Stone. Cave."
McCoy peered over at the picture. A dark hole in a mountainside.
"Child. Incubator. Rotate. Still too early!" A finger tapped the dead one hard enough to add another crack. More rough ribcage spasms. Hiccups. "Child. Stone. Cave."
With an eye on his patient, McCoy moved off to the side, egg still in his hands, pushing through the tent.
"Child. Stone. Cave."
He moved to a cabinet, the closest thing to a dark space he could find.
"Child. Stone. Cave."
He put the egg inside and closed the door.
"Water. Drink. Child. Incubator. Doctor Leonard McCoy."
A long slow breath again.
"Ah. I need to remove the bad ones now, eh?" He moved back to the incubator, removing another bad one and displaying the breaks.
"Child. Stone."
"Got it."
With exaggerated movements, he put it alongside the other one.
"Child. Stone. Incubator."
"Another couple that are bad, I'm sorry to say."
McCoy weeded out the rest of the bad ones, showing that they were bad before putting them in the "cave."
With the dead ones separated, he covered the rest, hitting the icon for the clock, then the iceberg.
The long stare turned up to the ceiling, then back to the PADD. The long stream of consciousness flooded from the PADD, settling on, "Sky. Sun. Moon. Dark. Night. Night. Night."
McCoy dimmed the lights a bit, applied eyedrops, then settled a bit of gauze over the face, careful that it didn't touch the exposed organs.
Another long lift and settle of the ribs, and McCoy hoped that his patient slept again. For once, the readings that the biobed's scanners gave him showed enough distress he couldn't tell.