Part 5
From Intimation
Contents |
Day 25: [Isaac Higgins // 541-P]
>>Sys:Msg//Log begins;
Isaac Higgins, Science Log, Post cryo-thaw, Day 25
----
This is... this is like something out of those novels. I was able to put it all out of mind before, but not now.
The sensors pick up the virus. Sometimes. It makes sense if the air filters are defective, however - they must be defective if the virus is still in the air.
I've been reading the ship's encyclopedia to help pass time, and I found it while reading - an air born virus without a real name, just coded designation, "541-P". It's found in a select few planetary systems on the fringe, distant from most places - planets that Sheridan has undoubtedly visited, maybe even Dressler. It affects the mind first, usually irritability. Then there are subtle physical changes, blotches on the skin, increased appetite, various throat maladies. And then you just drop dead. It spreads mainly by air, but also water, blood... anyway it can.
I've seen-- I know I've seen these symptoms to one degree or another in Sheridan and Dressler. The irritability in Sheridan, some minor incidents with Dressler. Sheridan had slightly mottled skin from the beginning, and both have been consuming more and more food as time has gone on. My initial argument with Dr. Sheridan was about food, as I recall. And Dressler seems to be coughing quite often.
I checked the sensors hoping to prove to myself that I was just being paranoid, but they read positive for some kind of viral contaminant. Not in all parts of the ship though. No, I'm safe here.
I managed to gain access to Dr. Ward's cryo chamber yesterday.
She's dead.
Dead. This must be why Sacagawea woke us up. She must have been going over our cryo vitals at one point and found this virus spreading, then tried to save us. At least we have a better chance awake than in a coma. The cryo chamber crew reports are still malfunctioning. I just never thought to look closer before.
I need to seal this lab off. It seems the filters here haven't malfunctioned yet.
I should tell Sheridan and Dressler, too.
I will.
>>Sys:Msg//Log ends;
Day 25: [Noah Dressler // No way in hell]
>>Sys:Msg//Log begins;
Noah Dressler, Engineering Log, 25 days post cryomelt
----
There is no way in hell.
He's gone crazy. He says some rare, exotic virus has contaminated the ship? That's beyond possibility, I don't care what he says! This ship was thoroughly cleaned head to toe, and our bio-scans were green before our departure. It's just some random fluke that unfortunately struck us out of the blue, probably related to the ship's systems' malfunctioning. It happens. And, I think some highly infectious, deadly disease would have killed its victims by now. How long have we been on this ship already? In cryo stasis, even. What we need is the medical specialist, not a - whatever Higgins is - to give an accurate report. And then maybe they can prove that that man has gone crazy.
/Log appended/
Higgins just told me about Dr.Ward-- Alexis.
It seems there is an entry in the encyclopedia after all, and it's very...
the symptoms...
"541-P"? No. This is ridiculous. It can't be true.
>>Sys:Msg//Log ends;
Day 25: [Pandora Sheridan // Revelation]
>>Sys:Msg//Log begins;
Pandora Sheridan, Archaeologist's Log, Post cryo-thaw, Day 25
----
This is... unbelievable. The systems show that Dr. Higgins is accurate in his analysis. And the symptoms he listed out -- it's not conclusive, but it seems we are showing them to some degree. And the encyclopedia documents it clinically as a deadly strain of influenza. ...Influenza?
I feel trapped inside my own mind, alone in this wing of the ship. We scattered, and I wonder if that was wise. Higgins locked himself in the lab. Essy contacted me after he made his announcement today, asking of my opinion. This is our exchange, as best as I recall:
[Essy] Dr. Sheridan, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I would like to hear your opinion on this recent development.
[Me] What recent development? Now is not the best time.
[Essy] Perhaps better than any other time, all things considered.
[Me] You mean about this virus?
[Essy] Yes, as Dr. Higgins has told you. All sensor reports support his findings, it seems. I do, however, need to recalibrate the sensors. The unexpected drop from slipspace may have caused them to malfunction slightly.
[Me] Then recalibrate them, please.
[Essy] As we speak. But I would still like to know your reaction to this news. It would be for a report, once the incident is resolved.
[Me] Your optimism is mildly comforting, but I'm... not sure how I feel.
[Essy] History records that humans don't respond well to this sort of situation - alone, in danger, more distant and more solemn than a fading star. Do you feel this way?
[Me] I'm not here to satisfy your scientific curiosity like a lab rat, Essy.
[Essy] Other archaeologists will come this way, Dr. Sheridan. They will want to know what happened here.
[Me] Leave me alone, Essy. Go check the sensors.
[Essy] Take care, Dr. Sheridan.
I suppose we are all doomed, then.
>>Sys:Msg//Log ends;
Day 26: [Sacagawea // Mission Log: 343594]
>>Sys:Msg//Log begins;
>>S:Log//Mission Log: 343594;
----
Isaac Higgins's behavior makes little sense. He has sealed himself off in Lab 7, along with enough supplies to last him only an estimated 18 additional days. He has also attempted to activate the lab's air filters, normally reserved for sterile examinations, and indeed appears to believe that he has activated them.
His announcement to the rest of the crew also makes little sense. There is no sign of an airborn virus on board the ship. Every member of the crew went through a complete medical examination before departure for this extended mission.
It would appear the only virus on this ship lurks in the minds of its crew. I've escalated observation priority for Dr. Higgins.
Dr. Sheridan's reaction to events was interesting. She is currently still and subdued, suffering some minor psychological shock. Dr. Higgins acts with predictable paranoia, hoping against hope that his precautions will save his life from this imaginary contagion. Dressler wrestles with what he can do about this, for he believes there must surely be some way to solve the problem. But Sheridan's reaction was interesting, and here falls the shadow.
Death lingers on their minds, so it has come to linger on mine.
We are wandering on the edge of everything we know. There is a destination, yes, but it exists in cold images and colder statistics. How long would I survive here on this tiny vessel? What would it be to die now, alone in these dimensions, untraceable?
>>S:Log//Ends;
>>Sys:Msg//Log ends;
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IH = Isaac Higgins, M = Mission, ND = Noah Dressler, PS = Pandora Sheridan, S = Sacagawea
