Warpath (43 page)

Jake had to admit that
he found Ensign Zachary Levine, their new doctor, amusing. Ensign
Levine was born on Kambis and raised on Tamber in a small mining and
manufacturing town. He was trained as a medical technician by the
local military and had a decades experience in the field and in
space. Everything about the man’s service record made him the
perfect candidate to lead the Revenge’s medical team. Another thing
Jake liked about him was that he was in no way interested in
experiments or long-term research.

The infirmary was neat,
clean and surprisingly busy. There were still people who needed their
obligatory stop shots. They were lined up outside and there was an
injured crewman he didn’t see straight away. Jake sat on one of the
treatment beds like any other patient, a narrow bot with a smiley
face painted on its flat, featureless face. “The medical technician
will be with you shortly,” it said.

Jake could hear the
groans of a patient behind a curtain. “You’re not a medical bot,
are you?” Jake said to the slender droid that greeted him, looking
for the bots that he’d managed to get his hands on for the Revenge.
He could only see one of the four-armed, circular machines.

“I am not. I’m a
receptionist and host bot that has been serving Medical Technician
Levine for four years. He found me in a junk heap while he was
serving on the Plains of Gusette and decided that I could be useful
at holding non-critical objects, cleaning and speaking to patients
while they wait. It was a glorious day when he turned me on and put
me to a finer purpose, serving ailing humans.”

“Who painted that on
you?” Jake asked.

“What? Is there
something on my face?” the droid asked, mildly alarmed.

“Never mind,” Jake
said.

“Someone forgot to
activate the medical features on their vacsuit,” Jake heard Ensign
Levine say to the patient behind the curtain. “No wonder you broke
your leg. Let me show you how to activate all the features of your
suit so it protects you next time.”

“Wait, aren’t you
going to treat my leg first?” asked the patient behind the curtain.

Jake had an idea that
he knew what was about to happen, but listened quietly. “Do you
need anything, Captain?” the hospitality bot asked.

“No, just be quiet, I
want to hear this,” Jake said.

“As you wish, Sir,”
replied the hospitality bot.

He listened to what was
happening on the other side of the curtain closely. “Well, since
the technology in your suit would fix your leg the same way I would,
I’ll activate it so you never forget to enable it before your shift
again,” Ensign Levine said. “Let me show you, the activation is
right here under the critical systems control menu on your command
unit.”

A yelp of surprise and
pain signalled to Jake that the suit, and the emergency medical
systems had been activated. He knew that nanobots had been injected,
the suit gripped, stretched and flexed to set the bone properly, and
in a moment the bone would be mended. “Son of a Bitch!” the
patient shouted. Ensign Levine most likely neglected to activate
anaesthetic on the man’s suit.

“You can swear all
you want in my med bay, but don’t insult my mother,” Ensign
Levine said as he emerged from the curtained area of the infirmary,
his attitude perfectly pleasant. “Now, your leg is fine, but you
can take a minute to relax, and man up before you get back to work. I
need that bed.” He turned to Jake, who was thoroughly amused.
“Captain! I didn’t expect you to report in so quickly.”

“Good to meet you,”
Jake said, shaking Ensign Zac Levine’s hand. “Welcome to the
Revenge.”

“Good to be here,
thank you for my infirmary,” he replied. “I was surprised when
the Governor tapped me for this job, I couldn’t wait to get back to
space.”

“I’m sorry about
Kambis,” Jake said.

“Not your doing,”
Ensign Levine said. “So, what brings you in, balance issues?”

“Yes,” Jake said.
“I think its just part of my recovery. I wasn’t able to walk at
all a few weeks ago, but thanks to physical therapy, I’m on my
feet, but I’m not steady yet.”

“Log says you went
for a jog this morning,” Ensign Levine said, bringing up a
holographic display of Jake’s records using his hospitably droid.
“Have you ever gotten dizzy while sitting?”

“A few days ago,
yeah,” Jake said.

“Okay, let me do a
quick scan here.” Ensign Levine pointed a small box at Jake’s
head and clicked it. He looked at the scan results using the
holographic display and nodded. “Your brain is getting conflicting
information from your eyes and your inner ear. Your suit’s
diagnostic missed it because it calibrated with the problem in place.
It got tricked into thinking that it was a normal defect for you.”

“So, the balance
issue isn’t a normal thing for my kind or recovery,” Jake said.

“Not at this stage,”
Ensign Levine said as he accepted a small pointed tool from a round
medical bot. “Look over there, Captain,” he told him.

Jake did as he was told
and Ensign Levine put the device he was holding into his ear
slightly. He felt a cool pinch. “Lay down for a moment, you’re
going to get real dizzy in a sec.”

Jake barely made it to
a flat position before the world seemed to spin. “That’s normal?”

“The nanites I just
sent into your head are correcting the inner ear problem, so you’re
going to be very dizzy for a minute or two. You can expect severe
dizzy spells for a few hours following.

“What was it,
exactly?” Jake asked.

“A tiny abnormal
growth on the vestibular nerve connecting the inner ear to your
brain. After we’re done here, the chances of it recurring will be
very low, but your command and control unit will know how to take
care of it.”

“Captain Valent,
please report to the bridge,” announced Lieutenant Commander Liara
over the intercom.

“And we’re done
here,” Ensign Levine said. “Just take it slow for the next few
hours, and your equilibrium should restore itself. Trust your suit,
it’ll help you walk upright while you’re trying to find your
balance. Oh, and you’re confined to the completed areas of the ship
for the next two days.”

“Is my balance going
to be that screwed up?” Jake asked, sitting up. A wave of dizziness
overcame him and he slipped off the treatment bed. The world seemed
to wobble around him as he fell on his side.

“Wow, you went down
pretty fast there,” Ensign Levine said with a chuckle. “Sorry I
didn’t catch you, Sir, I didn’t have a chance.”

One of the medical bots
pulled Jake up onto his feet, and he had to admit, he was anything
but steady. “I have to get to the bridge,” Jake said.

“Okay,” Ensign
Levine said, taking Jake’s command and control unit into his hand
and programming his vacsuit’s artificial muscle layer to do all the
balance and walking work for him. “Marionette time,” Ensign
Levine said. “Now, when the bot lets go, just go limp.”

The medical droid
backed away, and Jake had a moment where he couldn’t catch his
balance, then it partially subsided. “Can’t really catch my
balance here,” Jake said.

“I’ll have Marion
here follow you to the bridge,” Ensign Levine said, gesturing to
his hospitality bot. “She’s good and sturdy, just put your hand
on her head and let your suit do the work. Oh, and you may feel some
nausea, your suit will treat that as it comes up, pun intended.
That’ll get you to the bridge, but you’re staying in your chair
for the rest of your duty shift, then straight to your room. A bunch
of balancing exercises will come up when you get there. Do them for
an hour at least before you go to bed.”

“How long will the
recovery be?” Jake asked, feeling his suit adjusting for his
unsteady stance.

“You’ll improve
over the next three days or so. No jogging for at least five,
Captain,” Ensign Levine said. “I’m clearing you for some
fitness meds so you can keep your physique up.”

An alert came up on
Jake’s command and control unit. They had just arrived in normal
space. “Thanks, Ensign,” he said, putting his hand on the slender
hospitality bot.

“No problem, just do
those balancing exercises whenever you can. I’ll watch your
progress. The nanites I put in your head should start helping you
gradually balance out. You’ll see a real difference sometime
tomorrow.”

“No way to speed this
up?” Jake said as he fought the sensation that he was about to fall
down again. His suit forced him to stand straight.

“Sure, there’s a
cybernetic assembly I could have built in your head. An army of
nanobots would go in there and replace all the pertinent bits with
cybernetic versions that we could calibrate in about an hour. I’d
rather not, though,” Ensign Levine said. “And if I’d rather
not, you’d better not.”

“I’ll take your
word for it and stick with what I’ve got,” Jake replied.

“Now, off to the
bridge with you. I have every confidence that you’ll make it. Just
don’t fight your suit, it knows which way is up.”

He found walking out of
the infirmary, down the hall and into a lift was almost as bad as his
first attempts at walking. His legs were cooperating, it just seemed
that nothing else – the deck, the walls, the other crewmembers in
the hallway – were. It seemed as though the deck was moving under
foot, and he grasped the thin hospitality droid’s head for dear
life as the muscles in his suit did their best to keep him upright.

Frost met him in the
hall and put himself under one of his arms. “Are you all right,
Captain?” he asked quietly.

“Just had a tiny
tumour removed and it’s going to take me a bit to find my balance,
a few days, maybe,” Jake said. “Have to get to the bridge.”

“Into the lift,”
Frost said as they made the transition from corridor to small box fit
for five people.

Jake got a notification
that he had just gotten a shot of anti-nausea medication, and was
thankful he didn’t have to deal with the embarrassing alternative.
“Wow, if I knew this was what I had to look forward to as a cure, I
think I would have waited.”

“Our new medical
master doesn’t do much waiting around,” Frost said in agreement.
“He sees there’s a cure, gets you fixed and moves you on.
Normally, my kind of medic.”

“Same here, but,”
Jake jerked and fought for balance as he suddenly felt as though the
floor of the lift tilted violently. With the help of his suit, Frost
and the bot under his other hand, he recovered.

“Floor’s perfectly
stable,” Frost said. “Was this what it was like when you were in
recovery?”

“It was a lot worse,”
Jake said. “And Levine said this would only last a few days if I do
the exercises.” The trio left the lift, and everyone who saw them
in the corridor stopped and stood against the wall until they passed.
“What do you think of the ship, Chief?” Jake asked.

“Loving it so far,
Captain. My gunnery team hates me just enough. I got those bastards
out of bed an hour early this morning for extra cleaning duty.
There’s something satisfying about seeing racks of thirty-two
soldiers jump out of their bunks and stand to when you hit the action
alarm.”

“You’re an evil
man,” Jake said. “I didn’t hear guns firing at oh six-thirty
this morning though.”

“Ah, we practiced
loading, clearing, aiming, but not firing,” Frost said. “I don’t
need to torture the rest of the ship to get my gunnery boys and girls
into shape.”

“Glad to hear it, how
are they doing?” Jake said, jerking again as he felt the floor tilt
forward and back.

“Getting into shape,”
Frost replied. “They’re not as quick or clean as I like, but
they’ll get the guns firing on time. They’ll be fit by the time
we get automation installed, and ready to take over if that
automation fails.”

They reached the bridge
and Jake saw that there were only seven paces at most between the
hatch and his chair. “Going to take this on my own,” he said to
Frost quietly.

“Aye, easy lad,” he
said as he let Jake go.

Jake tried to relax and
let his suit do all the work, then let go of the hospitality droid.
“Go on back to medical,” he told it.

“Yes, Sir,” Marion
the hospitality droid replied.

Jake caught himself
jerking to compensate for a deck that seemed to be tilting, and tried
to relax. The door and deck straightened for a moment and he forced
himself to walk forward. The suit kept him upright for the most part,
and he sat in his chair hard.

“Are you all right?”
Stephanie asked from above him in the Flight Operations Centre.

“Now that I’m
sitting?” Jake asked with a snicker. “Much better.”

“it is good to have
women in the Wing,” Hottie said as he leaned against the back wall
of the Samurai Squadron Briefing Room, eying Sticky appreciatively
from behind. She was leaning over the mission table, a gridded white
surface with holographic projectors built in, trying to fix it. “I
just love the way a vacsuit stretches and clings when it’s worn by
the right curves, and she has the nicest aft section in the fleet.”

“You’re grounded
for three days,” Minh-Chu said, putting his hand on Hottie’s
shoulder as he came through the door.

“Seriously? For
admiring the view?” he replied.

“There are places
where you can talk like that if you want, but it’s not on this
ship,” Minh-Chu said.

“What? We’re just
waiting on you, and only these guys heard me.”

“You remember how you
got that call sign, Hottie?” Minh-Chu said, taking no care to keep
his voice down. The entire Samurai Squadron, all twenty one were
there, and they knew something was going on at the rear of the
briefing room. “Let’s take a look at that footage.”

“What? No!” Hottie
said.

It took Minh-Chu only
seconds to recall the footage in question, then send it to the
working holographic table in the middle of the Briefing room. An
image of Hottie with his vacsuit reshaped so he had fake exaggerated
womanly curves appeared. He was in the Pilot’s Den aboard the
Triton, sitting down seductively and pretending the table in front of
him was a control panel. “Oh, Captain, would you like me to change
course?” he said in a breathy, overly sexed manner. “You know,
training is so easy, they all pay so much attention to me.”