Sargasso of Souls – Session 9
Maya and I remained in quarantine during the return journey to Bharat Station. Before we got back, Jess Griffin was able to confirm that I hadn’t been contaminated. Maya on the other hand had developed a patch of nasty looking sores on the left side of her torso. The bacterial agent from the planet’s atmosphere was already starting to eat at the surface of her skin. I stayed with her and told her that everything would be OK. We both knew that might not be true.
I left Locke in charge of getting us home, I knew he was more than capable of handling anything that came up and was reluctant to leave Maya in her condition. She and I had grown pretty close as a result of our shared experiences on the planet surface and I cared about her more than I liked to let on.
In order to boil off any bacteria that might have survived on the shuttle’s hull, we repeated the now standard fly-by of the bluish-yellow system sun, before approaching to within communication range of Bharat Station. I contacted Razor on a secure channel and apprised him of our situation.
I could tell he wasn’t happy but to his credit he didn’t press me for details of what had happened. That could wait. For the time being, his efforts were focused on dealing with the immediate problem. He took control. You had to like that about Razor, nothing ever seemed to be more important to him than the welfare of his people.
To limit the amount of attention we drew to ourselves, he told us to adopt a geostationary orbit on the far side of the planet Tundra. We did so and, within the hour, one of Nessence Transit’s older shuttles, the Redemption, carrying Veldin and a team of medical personnel, rendezvoused with us there. After that, we were in their hands.
A series of lengthy bio-scans were completed, confirming that Maya was the only one who had been contaminated. When the medics were satisfied, the non-essential personnel were transferred across to the Redemption.
Aboard the Salvation only a skeleton flight crew consisting of Logan Brodie and Michael Weiss remained, along with myself, Maya, Jess Griffin and Veldin.
Phipps had surprised me by coming across to join us after making some quip about “house calls”. He played it down, saying that it would be easier to find an antidote if he could take a look at the infection first-hand, but by coming there he was risking contamination and, as a result, I gained a newfound respect for him.
After carrying out some additional tests and then labouring for a few hours in the makeshift med-lab, Veldin informed us that he had come up with an “experimental” drug-cocktail that had a fairly good chance of working. He was enthusiastic, as always, but admitted that he couldn’t be sure of the outcome. Nasty side effects were always a possibility.
Maya’s condition was not improving however. The sores festered angrily and she had grown feverish as her body fought against the contagion. We didn’t really have any other options, so Veldin administered the drugs to her.
Once it was done all we could do was wait anxiously for signs of improvement.
Two or three hours after the treatment, a yellowish pus-like liquid began seeping from Maya’s sores. It looked pretty nasty but Veldin was elated. Apparently it was a good sign.
Twelve hours after that, Veldin announced that she was “through the worst of it”. In a week or so, she would be fine. I was greatly relieved that she would be OK.
To ensure there was no residual contamination, we remained in geostationary orbit aboard the Salvation for two more days. I spent this time with Maya and contemplated what I would say to Razor when I got back. As yet he hadn’t pressed me for an explanation but I knew it was coming. Not that I felt I had done anything wrong, but leading the mission had been my responsibility and, let’s face it, it hadn’t gone well.
On the 20th July we were finally given the ‘all clear’ and made our return to Bharat Station.
When we docked, I took Maya to the medical facility with Jess and Veldin and then made my way directly to Razor’s office. I figured it was best to get it over with.
He was waiting for me.
To the best of my memory I recounted the events of the last seven days. Across the desk, Razor sat and listened impassively. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking
When I was finished he asked me a number of insightful questions. Then he nodded and said, “Well I can’t say that I’m happy about what has happened but, under the circumstances, I think you handled it as well as you could have. Does Bell have any family?”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Once I had completed the debriefing, I returned to the Salvation and checked on hangar security. Razor had indicated that he wanted construction of the base to start as soon as possible and there was a lot to do, but there wasn’t anything that wouldn’t wait a couple of hours; it would be two whole days before the shuttle was ready to go again.
I sought out Pietersen, Butler and Johansson and went for a drink with some of the security team. Hollis, Sawyer, Sibanda and Bauman were there also.
We swapped stories. Pietersen, Bauman and I told the others about the planet and Hollis told us about the rescue of Razor’s ex-wife, Denise. It seemed he had finally found her.
Disturbingly it had been necessary for her to be rescued from a mining-outfit in a nearby system that was holding a large number of refugees against their will and forcing them to do manual labour.
Razor, Morris, Hollis and Preston had successfully extracted her and she was now here on Bharat Station recuperating.
Meanwhile Razor was attempting to get something done about the mining-outfit and secure the release of the remaining refugees but, with pirates rumoured to be operating in the area and the neighbouring Weyland Station adopting an increasingly belligerent standpoint, Fusion Inc were reluctant to take on anything beyond the security of Bharat Station itself. With the best will in the world, they were stretched enough as it was.
After I had allowed myself a couple of hours to unwind with the team I left them and set my mind to preparing for the next mission.
