Endurance: The Complete Series Read online

  “Ghosts are not real.”

  “I think they are,” said Maureen. “My parents used to take us on these cultural enrichment trips, and on one of them we went to a ruined pyramid for an overnight stay. In the middle of the night, I woke up in my sleeping bag and heard footsteps coming down a hallway from the outside. I stood up to investigate, but when I came to the hall, there was no one there, so I went back to sleep.”

  “You slept despite thinking you heard ghosts?”

  “Why not? They weren’t hurting anything.”

  “Wait,” said Captain Withers. “Was this the same trip where—”

  Viktor interrupted. “Can these people be cured?”

  “Maybe. The biologists will want to take a look at him. The cells aren’t producing energy, but the membranes are still intact. The textbooks say that’s impossible, but it’s like the aliens halted the decay partway through.”

  “Suspended animation?” said the captain.

  “More like the opposite, halting death processes instead of life processes. Suspended ... un-imation. The point is, he’s not damaged. Just dead. It’s weird, but we might be able to fix it.” She paused. “Please note that I am not qualified to give medical advice.”

  The captain waved his hand. “Yes, I know.”

  “Sorry. The textbook says I have to say that if I discuss treatments with anyone in an official context.”

  “So the question is,” said Withers, “should we try to fix them?”

  All eyes went to Doctor Decay.

  He blinked vacantly back over his protruding nose.

  “First we’ll have to cure the plague in their atmosphere,” Maureen said. “If we don’t, and we force them to breathe the contaminated air, we might kill their entire species.” Her soothing voice managed to make the possibility sound like a minor inconvenience.

  Viktor folded his arms. Such an act would be reprehensible. Not only that, it would completely ruin the O&I review. “Recommend we try. These people would make excellent allies against the Haxozin.”

  “I’ve thought of that,” said Withers. “Considering that their society is so similar to ours, and their incredible medical technology, it’s believable that they have more advanced tech here, or at least the capacity to build it. Most of the other species we’ve met are behind us technologically, so this is a rare chance.”

  “We should at least investigate the plague in their air,” said Maureen. “That can’t hurt.”

  “Carefully,” said Viktor. “Caution is the best defense.”

  The captain glanced at him. “Sun Tzu?”

  “No. Areva.”

  “Ha. She say that when you two were on a mission together?”

  “No. Over dinner.”

  This time Withers’s look held more significance. “Dinner? The two of you? Together?”

  “It was just dinner, sir.”

  “Does this happen often?”

  “Da.”

  To Viktor’s discomfort, the captain shared a knowing look with Maureen before speaking again. “Take a hint from me and Loretta, Ivanokoff. That’s not just dinner.”

  A flush crept into Viktor’s cheeks. He humphed and fled the berth before they could tell him any other things he already knew and preferred not to admit.

  * * *

  The atmospheric samples went straight to Chris and Joyce Fish and their team on deck two.

  From the cacophony echoing up the ladders, Thomas thought they must have brought aboard some howler monkeys as well.

  He entered the designated lab area, an interconnecting series of converted berths alongside the starboard hull, to see half a dozen officers, each wearing two or three science certification stripes on their shoulders, yelling at one another.

  “That chemical balance might be the result of the plague!” a red-faced Chris shouted at Officer Varma, who worked scanners on the night shift.

  “Or,” countered Varma, “it could be perfectly normal for this planet!”

  Joyce had one hand on her hip, the other gesticulating furiously at a woman with three engineering patches beneath her two science stripes. “I don’t care how well you understand theoretical physics; this is a chemistry problem!”

  “Chemistry is just applied physics!” argued the engineer, folding her arms.

  “Physics is just applied math,” said another engineer-scientist wearing reading glasses and doing two different things on two different computer screens at once.

  Thomas had broken up enough scientific debates on his ship to know not to bother with subtlety. “HEY! LISTEN UP!”

  The arguing stopped, except for Chris finishing his sentence: “... breathing it, if not experimental verification?”

  Once he had their attention, Thomas asked, “What have we got?”

  Half a dozen voices spoke at once, and he held up a hand and pointed to Officer Varma.

  Varma gave Chris Fish a triumphant look before holding up a finger and declaring, “This planet has a higher oxygen-to-nitrogen ratio than our own, as well as a fractionally higher amount of argon and—”

  “I don’t need all the details. Can we cure the plague that almost killed these people?”

  Varma deflated at the interruption, but then shrugged and spread his hands. “There is no plague.”

  “What?”

  “We found no unexpected chemicals, compounds, or even organisms in our study of the samples. The atmosphere is quite close to Earth-normal. It appears that whatever was in the air, it is now gone.”

  “Appears,” said Chris, “but who knows whether that’s actually—”

  Again Thomas held up a hand. “You’re saying we can cure their zombieism right now, and they’ll be fine?”

  “Theoretically,” said Varma. “But I strongly recommend testing in order to observe any complications.”

  “Right, right,” said Thomas, a grin coming to his face. Pulling unlikely achievements out of certain doom seemed to be his crew’s specialty. Take that, Bradshaw. “I want you all to work with Officer Habassa on a way to revive the zombies.”

  “I thought we weren’t calling—” began Chris.

  Thomas talked over him. “In the meantime, I’ll talk to our ... guest about the situation.”

  The arguing resumed, this time about the best way to resuscitate the dead, before he’d even left the compartment.

  * * *

  Doctor Decay sat unnervingly still on the exam bed in the medical compartment. Maureen was trying to get him to do some sort of breathing exercise, perhaps hoping that sheer willpower would overcome his undead state. Thomas dismissed her and remained alone with the zombie.

  “Hi.” He focused on a point somewhere between the vacant eyes, rather than look directly into them. “So, I’m sure this is very unnerving for you. Honestly, I’m not even sure how much you understand of what I’m saying right now.”

  Blink, blink, nod.

  “That’s good, keep nodding when what I’m telling you makes sense.”

  Nod.

  “So ... we think we’ve got a solution to your problem. The plague that someone released in your atmosphere to wipe all of you out—it’s gone.”

  The zombie cocked his head to one side.

  “That means you’re safe. It can’t hurt you anymore.”

  A tentative nod.

  Encouraged by this progress, Thomas continued, “That means all we have to do to restore your society is, well, revive you. I’ve got my people working on that, but I’m guessing you could be a big help. It sounds like your government planned this out pretty well, and your medical sciences are years beyond anything we can do. Did your people create a cure to this ... state?”

  Blank stare.

  Too many words, Thomas decided. He slowed his tone and used his hands to supplement his words. “Cure. Do you have one?”

  More staring.

  Thomas decided to drop the topic. If his own people failed to think of an idea, he could always send a team to search the hospital where Ivanoko
ff and the others had been held. “Okay, let’s try something simpler. If we find a cure, we’ll need to test it on someone.” Again he gestured. “We need a volunteer.”

  A long pause. Thomas wasn’t sure if Doctor Decay was even listening. Then, slowly, the zombie lifted a thin hand to point at himself.

  “Thank you,” said Thomas. “Given that you’re dead right now, I don’t think anything we do can make you worse.”

  Blank stare.

  “So ... you agree to let us test the cure on you?”

  Nod.

  “I promise we won’t let you down.”

  Pause. The alien made a shrugging motion, but with his elbows.

  “I know, you seem like you’re all more or less happy this way, but trust me. Things will be better when you’re alive and functioning again.”

  Blank stare.

  Thomas had more questions, but they would wait until they found a way to revive the doctor. It’d be easier to discuss the origin of this plague and possible alliances when he was sure the conversation was understood.

  * * *

  It took another day before any news came from the science team. Thomas started writing his report to Dispatch for when the Endurance returned home—he still had a few days before they were scheduled to report back, and he hoped they were able to resolve this problem before leaving. Once the zombie folk were restored to their proper mental capacities, maybe they could even bring one to Earth to talk with human scientists about their impressive medical technology. That would be an invaluable help in just about every sphere of life.

  Maureen Habassa rapped quietly on the bulkhead around his office hatch before stepping inside. He glanced up and set his pocket comp on standby in hopes this would be a lengthy conversation containing many usable solutions. “Come in. Anything to report?”

  She arranged herself in the chair across his desk and crossed her legs. “The scientists stayed up until two a.m. debating ideas, and it wasn’t until Officer Lee pointed out that whatever we do has to be massively applicable to the population that they started actually working together. But they think they have something, and it’s even something I have enough training and qualifications to implement.”

  “What is it?”

  “Revixophin.”

  Thomas waited for more, but she just smiled pleasantly.

  “What’s that?” he finally asked.

  “It’s a virus-based stimulant that was created a few decades ago.” She smiled, and Thomas wondered if she was proud of using such science-y words. “They use it on Earth during major surgeries, when they have to shut down people’s hearts or other organs. The Revixophin virus goes in and kick-starts the body processes again.”

  “You’re talking about people who are still alive, just undergoing surgery. Is this going to work on dead people?”

  “In high ... one second.” Maureen pulled out her pocket comp and checked a page of notes. “Highly concentrated viral colonies. In those, sometimes the virus makes people’s bodies keep functioning for hours after they’re technically dead. These zombies’ internal organs aren’t working, but they’re still there, and Doctor Decay’s don’t seem to have suffered any damage. Assuming they’re supposed to look like the textbook pictures of human organs, of course. If not, he could be a mess and I wouldn’t know. But the basic functions of his brain are still working, so if we turn the other parts back on, it should set him back to normal. Like waking up a device from standby.” She nodded toward his pocket comp on the desk.

  “What about those with worse injuries?” the captain asked. “Bullet holes won’t just disappear.”

  “I imagine some of them will be too hurt to survive. Others may need medical intervention. But if we cure them in controlled groups, with the help of their own doctors, we should be able to avoid most problems.”

  “You want to give these undead aliens a viral infection to revive them. That seems like it’s moving in the wrong direction.”

  The young woman shrugged. “Isn’t it worth a try? You said we need their help.”

  “Do we have any of this stuff on board?”

  “Just a little, but Varma and the Fishes said they can breed more of it super fast.”

  “What are the risks?”

  Maureen ticked them off on her fingers, the same mannerism her brother used. “It could not work, leaving them as they are. Or it could damage the organs so that they can’t be fixed in the future. But that’s very improbable.”

  “How improbable?”

  “Very.” She blushed. “You could ask Chris Fish for the actual math.”

  “I’ll do that.” Thomas had no doubt it would check out. “How soon could you have this ready to go?”

  “Half an hour to set up the medical devices. The science team had to build a few pieces of equipment out of spare parts, since the ship doesn’t have a full medical lab.”

  “They did all this last night?”

  Nod.

  “When do they sleep?”

  “They don’t.” Maureen grinned as she stood to leave. “Why do you think the ship’s coffee pot is always empty?”

  * * *

  After confirming with the scientists that the Revixophin would do its job, and was unlikely to kill Doctor Decay (again), blow anything up, or otherwise ruin the week, Thomas okayed the project.

  Bradshaw and the other O&I suit, predictably, did not approve. But Endurance was still Thomas’s ship, and he was still the final authority. He overrode them. They made little notes on their pocket comps and insisted on observing the treatment.

  He allowed it. If it worked, he wanted to see their faces as they realized his crew was indeed competent. If it didn’t work, they’d find out about it sooner or later anyway.

  Doctor Decay lay on a medical bed, his empty eyes staring at the tan ceiling panels. Multiple contraptions and machinery sat around the bed, covering dents in the metal floor plating and almost filling the tiny medical bay. There was a large wheeled cart holding a sealed tub of hazel-colored goo, labeled in fine print. Next to it sat a paintbrush. Maureen’s usual comfy chairs, exercise equipment, and stretching gear were piled in one corner.

  Maureen herself stood over the devices, with Matthias, Chris, and Joyce hovering over her shoulders to give advice and ensure the machinery worked properly. Thomas stood on the other side of the bed, his own shadows peering over him and tap-tap-tapping notes into their comps.

  Maureen glanced at a textbook displayed on a computer screen her brother held up in front of her, then checked the pulse and respiratory monitors she’d attached to her patient. Her mouth moved silently as she counted them and cross-referenced against the book.

  Tap-tap went the suits’ fingers on their computers. Thomas wanted to break the stupid devices.

  “That looks right,” Maureen said. “Next book. The one about applying Revixophin.” Matthias tapped a few controls on the screen and held it up before Maureen’s face again. She read carefully, drawing her finger across each line. When she finished, she raised her arms over her head, stretched, and then switched out her surgical gloves for a fresh pair. “Ready.”

  Matthias whooped. “Let’s do this!”

  Smooth as a practiced surgeon, Maureen lifted the paintbrush, dipped it in the goo, and began spreading it on Doctor Decay’s prone form. The zombie didn’t seem to feel anything at first, but a moment later his mouth split in a lopsided grin, and he wiggled.

  “You’re tickling the zombie, sis,” said Matthias.

  “Sorry,” Maureen said, continuing to paint the goop over the undead skin.

  Doctor Decay seemed to enjoy the whole procedure, and a moment later Thomas was treated to a surprisingly cool sight when the Revixophin gel began disappearing before his eyes.

  “As it evaporates, the virus goes into the skin,” said Maureen. “From there it’s supposed to search out organ tissue, move in, and start reviving it.”

  “I love science,” said Matthias.

  “You keep your engineeri
ng nose out of my field of expertise,” said Chris.

  “Engineering is science.”

  “Is not.”

  “Quiet, please,” said Maureen. “My patient needs to rest.”

  Everyone stopped to look at her. “He’s dead,” said Chris.

  “And if he’s going to get over that, he needs rest. All the textbooks say rest is the number one healing factor for most injuries or illnesses.”

  “Not if you’re dead. You can’t—”

  Before the argument could commence, Doctor Decay’s chest rose, and the sharp intake of breath filled the silent room.

  Chris Fish promptly screamed, “It’s alive!”

  Joyce pinched his ear.

  “Come on, honey, somebody had to say it.”

  In and out the zombie doctor breathed, his chest expanding and contracting as his lungs filled with the Endurance’s air. Thomas may have imagined it, but he thought some faint orange color came back to the alien’s skin as well.

  Maureen studied her readings against her textbook as everyone around her congratulated each other. “This is starting to look good,” she said. “The numbers are all way off from normal, but that could just be because he’s not human.” She switched the textbook off and beamed at them. Her sunshine smile filled the room. “I think we did it!”

  Matthias whooped again, squeezed his sister in a hug, and then went around high fiving everyone in the room. When he reached the suits, they refused to set down their pocket comps, so instead he high-fived the devices.

  Thomas watched them stare at the once-dead, now-alive doctor. Take notes on that, he thought. He had a feeling his crew had just earned the ship a passing mark on its evaluation.

  Maureen cocked her head as the zombie doctor’s face began regaining color. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take for him to wake up properly. We’ll need to keep monitoring him.”

  Thomas nodded. “Take whatever resources you need. Well done, everyone. This was an excellent first step.”

  * * *

  The zombie doctor woke while Viktor Ivanokoff was enjoying a newly released murder mystery. The second the captain summoned him to the medical bay, he switched off his pocket comp, re-buttoned his uniform shirt, and headed out of his berth.