"We must keep them alive until we recover enough to heal them though, mustn't we?" he said. "I do not know how to do that. Joh saved me from a slow death by starvation after I escaped the Khleevi. Because of him, we were able to defeat the Khleevi and rebuild our world. We must do everything possible to save him now."
"Yes, of course we must. Find the books and when you can rest, give them to me, and I will research, too. Human medicine is imprecise, but surely there is something that will help."
The com unit beeped for Acorna's attention. It had been so long since anyone had been on the other end, it startled her. "Acorna and Aari, are you okay? Oh, this is Jalonzo." He waved from the vid screen. "Hola. I was just wondering because you're still up there, aren't you, and I thought you were going to go to the other planets."
"We've had a problem, Jalonzo," Acorna said. "We can't go anywhere just now."
"Well, if you're not, would it be possible for you to come back down here and fix the lab so I can start my research? I have some good ideas about this, and one of the elders is a biologist who is going to help me with some experiments, but I need somewhere to work."
"No, I'm sorry. We haven't recovered our strength yet." She thought about mentioning Becker's and RK's illness, but decided against it. It might alarm Jalonzo and everyone else to know that the Linyaaris' own human crew was sick.
"Too bad. As soon as you're better, would you do this before you go, please? I really think I can help."
"Let's see how things progress, Jalonzo. We have some complications here."
"Oh. Well, okay. Good-bye then. Uh. Jalonzo out."
RK coughed and coughed, but produced no hairballs. She wished that was his problem. He was so weak afterward, and his breathing was very fast and shallow. She laid her face and horn in his fur again. It felt hot, spiky, and damp. Feeling helpless, she stroked him until he stopped writhing and lay motionless in her lap.
The intercom from Becker's cabin made a scratchy noise. She jumped at the sound, then flipped the toggle, almost afraid of what Aari might want to tell her. "Acorna, yaazi, I have bad news," he said.
"Worse than it is already?"
"I am afraid so. I have been reading about plagues in these books. I believe that we have both become what was once called a Typhoid Mary."
"What?" She wondered if Aari was succumbing to the fever himself.
"Typhoid Mary," he said, and began to read, "In the early part of the twentieth century on the part of the Earth known as New York City, an Irish cook named Mary Mallon was identified as a healthy carrier of typhoid fever. Although she claimed never to have had typhoid herself, outbreaks of the fever followed Mary from job to job. The health department found typhoid bacilli in her blood and stool. Many people became very ill from her contagion and three died. Eventually she was isolated on a tiny island for the rest of her life."
"You think we brought the plague back onto the ship to Joh and RK, even to Mac's organic parts?" she asked.
"Yes. I think in our weakened condition, our resistance to disease was down and the plague attacked us. It could not make us sick because we are Linyaari, and we don't get sick, even if our horns are not functioning normally. But we brought it with us to Joh and the others, and even worse, I don't know how we are going to save them."
Khorii waited her turn for the sonic showers. Hap, who had been in the engine room, went first. Elviiz, whose nonorganic components could be adversely affected by the shower's sonics, sought privacy to initiate his self-cleansing routine and change his clothing.
When Hap emerged, Khorii stripped off her shipsuit and shook it. Linyaari shipsuits were extremely resistant to dirt and body soil and could be worn continually for months if necessary with nothing more than an occasional good shaking. A piece of paper fluttered from one of the deep pockets down onto the deck. Khorii picked it up.
It was a page from the passenger manifest to the Blanca. She must have missed it when she gave the rest of the list to her mother. Tucking it inside her shipsuit, she showered, came back out, and dressed. The list could go back in her pocket until later.
Then Elviiz, his toilette completed, returned to the bathing area.
"Look what I found," she said.
"Ah," he said. "The hard copy of the passenger manifest. You do not really need it though, you know. I downloaded all of that information from the ship's computer while searching the Blanca's bridge."
"You've been holding out on me," she accused.
"Not really. I have never taken the time to collate the data other than by general categories."
"We have time now. What general categories did you download?"
"Passenger manifest, crew roster and schedules, personnel files, captain's log . . ."
"You found the captain's log? Why didn't you say so? That's one of the things I was looking for."
"Why did you not say so?"
"I'm saying so now. Please upload it to the Manas system so I can read it."
"I could recite it for you," he said.
"Actually, I hate it when you do that," she told him.
"Have it your way then."
That was one of the good things about Elviiz's being an android. Unless she wanted to do something that would cause her immediate injury or death, he usually agreed to almost any scheme she came up with, and was more than ready to provide any information she wanted. The only thing he wasn't very good at was taking the blame if something went wrong. Her parents always looked straight at her. Being a Linyaari child definitely had its drawbacks. Adults could read your mind, and you couldn't read theirs. But she was working on that . . .
Once Elviiz has finished uploading the information, Khorii settled down at a screen and started from the beginning.
Captain's log Day 1:
Shipped out of Dinero Grande with a passenger roster of dignitaries, ambassadors, corporate heads, royalty, and Federation and local government officials. Most arrived in their own shuttles now docked in our bay. We carry a cargo of the best the Solojo system has to offer, including the finest new vintages of Rio Boca Rojo, the distinctive wine of that world that is much better fresh than aged.
Day 2: The ship's surgeon reports four cases of fever and respiratory distress among the cargo handlers. The supply officer is also ill. Fortunately, they have time to recover before we need to off-load the cargo to the Stella Nuevo at Santa Catrina Station.
Day 3, Hour 14: Two of the handlers, the supply officer, and the ship's surgeon have died of the fever. Two stewards and sixteen of the passengers are now displaying symptoms as well. Infirmary packed to capacity, with only medical aids to provide care. Have contacted the Federation regarding our condition and am awaiting further instructions.
Day 4: I went to see about the welfare of the stricken passengers. All but one had died, and that one died an hour ago. This is a very virulent and aggressive disease, whatever it is. Federation reply advocates staying away from populated areas for fear of spreading infection. They have promised help, but were strangely vague about when to expect their arrival.
Day 5: We are trying to maintain calm and a sense of business as usual among the passengers and crew but forty-six people are now dead or dying. We bypassed Santa Catrina, angering some of the passengers, who threatened to take their private vessels and jump ship. I cannot allow this to happen. Have imposed strict quarantine on the sick, but as soon as one group is isolated, others outside the group come down with the symptoms. The service crew, what remains of it, refuses to interact with passengers. The ship's navigator does not look well either.
Day 8: Peculiar how people refuse to believe evidence they don't like. With crew and passengers dropping like flies around them, the Premier Class passengers, so far mostly unaffected by the disease, have demanded that they be put ashore at Luna Sangre for the event they plan to attend there two days hence. I have been informed that if the Blanca does not dock, these people will be leaving in their private vessels. This I cannot allow. The crew is also turning mutinous. Have contacted nearby Federation outposts, but they seem to be having their own problems with this illness, and no stations near us are equipped to handle more patients. Everyone is frightened, but this illness must be confined to the ship. We have seventy-five dead and fifty near death at this point. There seems to be no treatment. I will do anything necessary to prevent anyone from leaving.