The Master of Muscigny (The First Admiral Series Book 5) (14 page)

Medical Deck Two; Star Cruiser Aquarius, May 12
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“Your Majesty,” Senior Medical Officer Radkor said as he bowed politely to the Royal visitor, “welcome to Medical Deck Number Two.”

“My dear friend.” The robed and masked King Baldwin the Fourth held out his gloved right hand. “The day has come to perform your miracle.”

“Not so much a miracle Your Majesty.” The Medial Officer smiled, taking the offered hand gently. “More, just another successful medical procedure.”

“It is a miracle to me.”

“Your Majesty is more than kind.” The usually bluff Radkor bowed politely once more, ushering the young King into the large spacious Treatment Room.

The Royal retinue of the King’s sister, Princess Sibylla, and her young son were accompanied by Joscelin of Edessa, their late twelfth century clothing standing completely at odds with their space-age surroundings.

“If Your Majesty would care to sit here,” Radkor indicated the heavy Treatment Chair that stood in the centre of the pristine and antiseptically clean and bright Treatment Room, “and if your guests would like to wait in the Waiting Room, there are refreshments provided,” he indicated.

The Treatment Room had been hastily built around one of the teleport pads on Hospital Deck Two. Rather than dismantle the complex and sensitive components of the teleporter, Radkor had been ‘advised’ firmly by the Senior Engineer to build his facility around the pad. Despite not being built to the highest medical specifications, Radkor was more than pleased with the ad-hoc Treatment Room. The Treatment Chair, flanking the teleport pad was faced by the technology that would analyse and read the patients DNA, plus generate the models of the skeleton, musculature, internal organs and nervous system. This was the technology that would repair the horrendous damage caused by the years of leprosy in just a few seconds.

“I will wait with my brother, Physician Radkor,” Sibylla said determinedly, holding her two year old son in her arms as she leaned against the wall accompanied by the anxious Joscelin.

“You must forgive our sister, friend,” Baldwin said, quietly sitting on the imposing metal chair, “she fears for our safety, these are dangerous times.”

“Your Highness has nothing to fear,” Radkor began to reassure the King’s sister, “we have carried out this procedure dozens of times with complete success.”

“Still, I will not be content until he is home safe in Jerusalem,” Sibylla said as she adjusted the young boy’s weight in her arms.

“If Your Highness will allow me to explain.” Radkor indicated the control panel of the mechanism in front of the Treatment Chair.

Anxiously, the child-carrying young woman approached the control panel, guided gently by the Senior Medical Officer.

“What we have here, Your Highness, are three pieces of equipment; firstly, we have a DNA Analyser which will read His Majesty’s DNA...”

“What is this DNA?” Sibylla questioned suspiciously.

“DNA is the basic genetic code that creates us all as unique individuals, we get half of our DNA code from our mother an half from our father.”

“This is all very perplexing, I don’t like...”

“Sister!” the King interrupted from the Treatment Chair. “If this DNA is what makes us who we are, then surely it is God’s will and part of His Divine Plan?”

For a moment, the reluctant Princess, cradling her child, stared at her brother and then conceded the argument.

“Your Highness,” Radkor continued, “once we have analysed His Majesty’s DNA, we can remove all of the harmful pieces that might cause the disease to reappear.”

In his previous treatments, Radkor had switched off the genes relating to diseases such as cancer and other hereditary conditions. However, the deeply religious Princess was already suspicious of anything that might be interpreted as interfering with God’s Purpose.

“When we have done that,” Radkor continued, “we move the DNA sample to the Genome Modelling Computer where we build up a model of how His Majesty’s DNA should make him look,” Radkor indicated a screen where an outline human male form rotated slowly.

“We can create a model of His Majesty; his height, skin, eye and hair colour, how strong his bones should be, how muscular he should be, how his internal organs like his heart should be. We then compare that with a scan taken from His Majesty so that we can target and destroy the diseased parts of his body and repair them.”

“You really have the power to repair my brother?”

“No, Your Highness, we have the knowledge and the skill to do so.”

For a moment, the suspicious Princess smiled nervously as she continued to cradle the child.

“If I may draw your Highness’ attention to the facial area.” Radkor punched up the front view of human skull.

“We try to take special care with the face. In many cases, the damage to the soft tissues can be extensive, however, the underlying bone structure is usually intact.” The skull image began to rotate slowly on the screen. “We can use the measurements from the skull to rebuild and repair the lost facial tissue.” Radkor ran a sequence where the skull was covered with muscle tissue and then skin to form a face. “We can’t re-model faces, like reducing the size of the nose or making the chin wider without actual physical surgery, we can only follow the DNA model.”

“But, you can make my brother beautiful again?”

“We can restore his face and body back to how he should be. When we have the model from the DNA, we then feed the information into the teleport device and then ask His Majesty to receive the cure.”

“Teleport?”

“A very simple device that usually takes us from one place to another, but here we use its properties to effect the cure. Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

Stepping over to the far side of the control panel, Radkor disengaged the DNA template function returning the teleporter to its original state.

“I set the controls to return me back to here, with a five second delay,” Radkor explained and stepped onto the square, silvered pad on the floor.

An instant later, the teleporter whirred softly and Radkor disappeared in a blinding, white flash of light.

“Where did he go?” the alarmed Princess asked her brother. “How did he…where did he go?” she asked again.

The teleporter then whirred again softly as Radkor re-appeared in a flash of light.

“Lord protect us...” The startled and frightened Princess crossed herself.

“There we go, Your Highness, back safe and sound.”

“Calm yourself, sister,” the King said before Sibylla could protest further.

“If we may begin, Your Majesty,” Radkor said calmly, nodding to one of the Technicians in the Treatment Room, who were all briefed as to their duties.

The King nodded his masked and covered head as the Technician stepped forward and placed a small square box against his arm.

A moment later, the Technician removed the box and brought it over to Radkor at the control panel.

“A simple blood sample,” Radkor explained slotting the device into an aperture in the control panel and pushing a button to operate the mechanism.

Silently, the machine processed the few drops of Royal blood that would surrender the vital DNA coding for the treatment to take place. Scanning the screen for results, Radkor spotted markers for two types of cancer, diabetes and cystic fibrosis before deftly turning the offending genes off. With the genetic ‘tidy-up’ done, Radkor activated the Genome Modelling Computer, which quickly drew up the schematic of the King’s physique according to his DNA profile.

What appeared on the screen was the outline of a tall, powerfully-built young man with long legs and strong upper arms, shoulders and chest. The slowly rotating image was scanned and scrutinised by Radkor as he looked for any abnormalities beyond the accepted levels of tolerances. No human being was perfectly symmetrical. One foot was always slightly bigger than the other, one arm slightly longer. These were all accepted as part of the human condition, however, Radkor was scrupulous in his attention to detail in ensuring that there were no gross abnormalities. Satisfied with the results, Radkor switched off the screen and turned his attention to the King.

“Now, if Your Majesty would remove your mask and your clothing, we can carry out the body scan,” Radkor asked.

“Sister, please take our nephew into the next room, we do not wish him to see us as we are now.”

For a moment, Sibylla was torn with indecision. She did not want to leave her brother’s side, yet at the same time, she had no desire for her young son to see his uncle’s body that had been so badly maimed and torn by the horrendous disease.

“If I may suggest, Your Highness,” Radkor said, “one of the Technicians can amuse the Crown Prince in the Waiting Room. We can set up the force-shielding so that you can see him, but, he cannot see into the Treatment Room?”

Looking at her brother, Sibylla seemed to plead for guidance and reassurance. With a gentle nod, the King indicated that he felt that it was all right. Then, with a nod of her head, Sibylla surrendered her son to the care of one of the Medical Technicians; who took the young boy into the adjoining chamber. When the young Crown Prince had gone, the King stood up from the Treatment Chair and began to disrobe.

Assisted by two Medical Technicians, the layers of white linen were removed. And, as the robes were removed, the full extent of the disease was slowly and shockingly revealed. Most of the King’s body was covered in the tell-tale blister-like lesions of the leprosy. His skin; horribly discoloured with ulcers, broken and decaying in many places, gave him the appearance of something not quite human as the layers were slowly peeled away.

Large areas of black, dead skin were visible on his back, arms, legs and chest as his twisted and gnarled fingers gently prised his clothing away from his body.

Horror-struck, Princess Sibylla stared at the unfolding tragedy of what was a nineteen year old young man struck down by a terrible disease. And, as she watched the extent of her brother’s suffering, the tears ran gently down her face as she fought stoically not to cry out. Joscelin of Edessa; a man who had seen the bloody carnage of countless battlefields, also stared at the ruined body in shock and horror. He felt ashamed that he was intruding in so private and personal a moment, but it had been an order of the King that compelled him to stay. Baldwin had ordered him, as one of his most trusted servants, to be present and to confirm that the ‘transformed’ body that emerged from the Hospital Deck was really that of the King and not some imposter.

Wearing only a loin cloth, his mask and a loose turban round his head, the King returned to the Treatment Chair. The two Medical Technicians gently began to remove the turban of white linen until his scalp, a mass of lesions with a few tufts of straggly hair, were exposed. The stumps that remained of his ears were barely discernible against the mass of lesions. Then, slowly and carefully, the King removed the mask of solid silver that had hidden his face from the light of day for so many years. And, as the mask was gently pulled away, the nightmare that was his face was revealed. Another mass of lesions and ulcers covered the face. A great yawning cavity where the nose and mouth had been exposed both sets of teeth, giving the King a hideous grimace.

Princess Sibylla let out a small gasp of mental agony as the ruined nightmare of a face came into view and bit her hand, painfully, to stifle any further unintentional and potentially distressing outbursts.

“Dear God!” Joscelin whispered hoarsely, and crossed himself, as he stared wide-eyed in revulsion and disbelief at the sight of his monarch.

He had known that the King had suffered, but the sheer extent of the damage still stunned and appalled the hard-bitten courtier, who turned his head away in shame and pity, covering his eyes with his right hand.

“If Your Majesty would remain completely still,” Radkor announced calmly as the Technicians took away the last of the Kings clothing.

With the Technicians stepping back, Radkor initiated the body scan. From the floor, a narrow band of yellow light rose to surround the base of the Treatment Chair. Then, slowly and deliberately, the yellow light began to creep upwards, illuminating the King as it rose.

Over the legs, waist and stomach, the light moved upwards until it reached the head area. Then, silently, the band of light turned white and lingered around the head for several seconds before retreating back down to the floor and vanishing.

“There we go, scan complete,” Radkor announced and motioned a Technician forward with a white cover for the King’s near-naked body, “if Your Highness would be so kind?” he added, holding out a Portable Display Screen and motioning towards the King in the Treatment Chair.

Taking the Portable Screen, Sibylla, wiped the tears from her eyes and walked slowly over to her brother, trying desperately not to show her true emotions.

“If you would show His Majesty the Screen,” Radkor punched up the slowly rotating physique image.

Sitting on the edge of the Treatment Chair, the Princess held the Screen for her brother as he pulled the white cover up to his chin.

“A strong, powerful physique, Your Majesty, with no major malformations or structural abnormalities, the worst being that your right foot is two millimetres longer than your left, which is well within acceptable tolerances, so, we shall progress to the face,” he continued and switched the image to that of the King’s skull.