Eternity Row (34 page)

I should have checked on him days ago.

The interior of his quarters matched his filthy, haggard appearance. Remnants of meals had been left out to rot. A huge dry painting covered most of the floor, but this one had been formed from bits of his own feathers and-was it possible? his own blood.

“Hawk? It’s Cherijo. Are you feeling sick?” I took out my scanner as I went toward him.

“You’re one of
them
.” His arm lashed out, and knocked my scanner out of my hand. The instrument clattered to the deck. “I’m not going to let you eviscerate me.” He whipped his head to one side and addressed an empty space. “Quiet!”

“Okay. No eviscerating today. Got it.” Warily I backed up and grabbed my scanner. “Hawk, do you know where you are?”

“I am at the beginning of the end of the world,” he told me. “Abandoned to the
yei
of the water and the fire.”

The
yei
were Navajo demons and monsters. Was he hallucinating? “You don’t remember being on a Jorenian star vessel?”

His hoarse voice lowered to a whisper. “That is what the
yei
wish us to think.” He reached up to his chest, and plucked out a feather, handing it to me as if bestowing an expensive gift. “That is the trap of the water and the fire. You are very small for a
yei
.”

“I’m not a monster, but I know they come in all sizes.” The doctor inside me started taking assessment: limited or no contact with reality. Disordered speech. Self-inflicted wounds. I had to keep him talking. “These
yei
, why are they doing this to you?”

“They hate me.” Tears ran down Hawk’s dirty face. “They intend to sacrifice me on the altar to their gods.” He backed into a wall, then slid down it to sit on the deck. His voice went flat. “This is the way of the end of the world.” His lips continued forming the words silently:
the way of the end of the world, the way of the end of the world
.

“Why would they do that? You haven’t done anything wrong.” I moved closer, activating the scanner. “You’re a nice guy.”

“They took me from my father and my people.” He looked over at the empty space again. “Stop whispering!” Then he spoke to me again. “They thirst for my blood because it is the key to everlasting life.” Hawk watched me pass the scanner slowly over him, this time showing no fear and only perfunctory interest. “What is that?”

“A protection against the
yei
,” I told him as I studied the display. No fever, though his dopamine and serotonin levels were off the grid. No injury to the frontal cortex lobes-yet. “Are you hearing these demons, or can you see them, too?”

Suddenly he straightened and gave me a haughty look. “I see all the
yei
gathering here. I have heard their plans for destruction of the universe.” He slumped back and went back to saying/mouthing words. “I keep watch over them, because I am the only one who can stop them.“
The only one who can stop them, the only one, the only one
.

“How do you feel about that?” Without a comprehensive blood series, I couldn’t determine if he’d resorted to drugs. They were a very real possibility-he may have brought something with him from Terra, for ceremonial purposes. “Does it make you angry or sad?”

“No.” He sounded remarkably calm, for a man who was in the throes of a severe psychotic episode. “I feel only resolve.”

Hawk had all the classic signs-delusions, false beliefs, multiple-sensory hallucinations, thought disorder, and blunted emotions. With time and a few tests, I might be able to determine whether he was suffering from organic psychosis or had developed a functional schizophreniform disorder.

If he doesn’t kill himself or me before we leave this room.

Casually, I went over to the console, standing in front of it as I keyed in an emergency signal to Medical, leaving the channel open so Squilyp could hear what was going on.

“What are you doing now?”

“I have an idea.” I quickly couched everything into terms he would respond to positively, and carefully drew out my syrinpress. “There’s a place I know where the
yei
can’t see or hear or come after you. I want you to go there with me, right now. You’ll be completely safe, I promise.”

He lurched to his feet, and snapped out his wings. Handfuls of feathers were missing from them, too. “You are trying to deceive me.”

“I never lie about being safe.” I held my ground. Without sedation, I had no means to control him. If I couldn’t get the drugs in him, I’d have to leave and secure the door panel. “This place is a sanctuary for others like you-”

“There is no one like me!” he screamed.

Time to get out and lock him in. I whirled, only to see a small figure standing a few feet from the dosed door panel. “Marel? How-?”

“Hawk?” She toddled over until she stood between us.

“Back, child!” The
hataali
jumped on me, knocking me to the deck. I grunted as all the air left my lungs, and my syrinpress skidded away across the deck. He straddled me, and tried to wrap his hands around my neck. I fought back. “You will not devour her, I will not let you!”

As I wrestled with him, I twisted my face toward my daughter. The medevac team would arrive any moment, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “Marel, sweetie- I want you to- go see Fasala. Hurry and go- right now- for me.”

She did the exact opposite, and walked toward the madman sitting on top of me, “Hawk? Doan hurd my mama.”

Hawk seemed determined to choke me. I kept my arms up, blocking his hands, but he had the strength of psychotic desperation backing him. “Go, child. I will keep the
yei
from harming you.”

“Mama not monsder.” A little hand gently patted Hawk’s tattered wing, distracting him as she slipped the syrinpress into my hand. “Mama heawer. Wike you.”

He hesitated, struggling to focus on the little girl. “What?”

“You sing heaw peepoh. Mama hands heaw peepoh.” Marel made it all sound very logical. “Mama heaw you.”

“She will make the
yei
leave me alone?” he asked, still suspicious.

“Sure.” Marel’s smile widened. “Everybody afraid of Mama.”

“You lie!” Hawk rolled off me.

Somehow, Qonja appeared, and threw himself in Hawk’s path just before he got his hands on my daughter. The two men went down, and began slugging each other.

“Healer!” the resident shouted, struggling to hold his own against the
hataali’s
fury. “Now!”

I hurried over and administered a fast-acting sedative, then closed my eyes as Hawk slumped back, unconscious. Marel was already in my arms before I straightened.

I held her tightly and looked down at Qonja’s bleeding face before extending a hand to help him up. “Thank you.”

We moved Hawk to Medical, got him cleaned up, and ran a full series scan, but I had to sedate him again. Qonja treated his own cuts and bruises before disappearing into the Senior Healer’s office. A few minutes later, the Senior Healer emerged and announced a staff meeting to determine diagnosis and treatment.

It wasn’t the way I would have handled it, but Squilyp was in charge, not me. What bothered me was wondering what Qonja had said to him.

As we gathered in the conference room and waited for the rest of the senior staff to arrive, Adaola asked me to fill them in. “And if you would, please describe the patient’s condition and behavior as you witnessed it.”

I covered what had happened in Hawk’s quarters, adding, “I tried talking him down, but he showed very limited response and ignored almost all my verbal cues. I’m not sure he even heard everything I said.”

“What is the current status on the patient?” the Omorr asked as he closed the conference room panel, and came to the table.

“We’ve ruled out brain tumor, temporal lobe epilepsy, autoimmune responses, Huntington’s, liver malfunction, and allergic or substance reactions.” I handed copies of Hawk’s chart to the residents and interns, feeling a bit like a secretary. When I reached my boss, I leaned over. “Where is Qonja? Shouldn’t he be in on this?”

“He had to speak to the Captain.” Squilyp cleared his throat, then addressed the group. “So we have no viable reason for this patient’s delusional state.” He gave me a brief glower, then switched on his chart. “Questions, thoughts?”

Adaola took the first shot. “His history indicates he is biologically vulnerable for acute functional psychosis. His condition could be the end result of years of severe mental and physical abuse, exposure to perpetual conflict, and poor adjustment to social conditions, and personal loss.”

“I’d be inclined to agree.” I sat down and took a sip from my server of water. “However, I know this patient pretty well, and prior to this episode, he has displayed no functional maladjustments whatsoever. We’re talking about a normal twenty-four-year-old male suddenly developing crippling mental illness. It just doesn’t happen overnight-we would have seen behavioral changes and other warning signs for months.”

Vlaav was next. “Cellular degeneration within the frontal cortex lobes is not apparent, but from the patient’s lethargic reaction to rysperidyne therapy, I’d say he’s suffering organic psychosis resulting from increased stimulation of neurotransmitter receptors. Perhaps a form of Pick’s Disease.”

Squilyp shook his head. “Something triggered the endocrine response, and there are no signs of prior neurological disease.”

“We can’t continue receptor-blocker therapy without risking extrapyramidal side effects, like suppression of bone marrow production and seizures,” I pointed out.

“We cannot continue sedating him,” lolna added. “Already he requires five times the standard Terran dosage of valumine. Repeated infusions will only build up toxic levels in the bloodstream and possibly cause permanent systemic damage.”

“That leaves only one option-sleep suspension, until we can tag the source and develop a viable regimen.” I wasn’t happy about putting my friend in a deliberate coma, but we had no other choice.

“That will make him unavailable for further psychiatric testing,” Vlaav said.

“In his present state, he could hardly provide cognizant test responses.” The Omorr made a notation on the chart. “Very well, we shall put the
hataali
in sleep suspension. Adaola, you and Vlaav work on the organic sources. Test for every known neurological and endocrine disorder. Iolna, I want you on strict monitor. Advise the team of any changes in his condition, however minor.” He glanced at me. “Cherijo and I will cover the other possibilities.”

“It’s not functional,” I said. “It has to be pathogenic.”

The Senior Healer nodded. “If it is, we’ll find it. That’s all for today. Thank you and please keep me updated on your progress.”

I waited until the rest of the staff cleared the room before closing the door panel and leaning against it. “Okay, Squid Lips, tell me what’s going on here. We have our first psychiatric case, and Boy Shrink disappears?”

He got busy stacking charts. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re a surgeon, not a group practitioner. What’s the deal? What did he say to you in your office?”

His gildrells drooped. “I have orders from the Captain.”

Xonea getting involved with Medical-never a good mix. “Orders, I take it, I’m not supposed to know about.”

“He mentioned throwing me in the brig a few times when he was issuing them.”

“So live dangerously and tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I need everyone working on this, not just me and you. We have to find out what caused Hawk’s episode, and quickly.”

“
Why
?”

The door panel slid open, and someone even madder than me hopped in the room.