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“I didn’t think there was a cure,” Reyes said, fueling the fires of deception, though still worried about not overdoing it.
Shaking his head, Fisher stepped closer to his friend, his right hand wielding the hypospray. “There wasn’t, at least not until six months or so ago. Starfleet Medical was able to synthesize a ryetalyn derivative that works well enough.”
“What is ryetalyn?” the Orion asked.
Fisher did not answer before pressing the hypospray to the left side of Reyes’s neck as though readying to inject the vaccine into his patient’s carotid artery. At the last instant, with his body blocking the guard’s view, Fisher changed the alignment of the hypo so that it now rested just below Reyes’s jaw before triggering the device’s injector mechanism. The tiny office was filled with the hypo’s pneumatic hiss as Fisher completed administering the vaccination, and Reyes could not help scowling in momentary irritation at the injection, which was more painful than he was used to feeling. The odd sensation continued for several seconds, and he had to force himself not to reach up to rub his jaw as Fisher turned back to the table.
“Ryetalyn is the only known antidote for Rigelian fever,” the doctor said as he returned the hypospray to his medical kit. “Given the similarities between the two strains of contagion, somebody at Starfleet Medical figured it made sense that their respective antidotes would also be related.” When he turned once more to face his escort, Fisher noted that the Orion’s expression was one of complete befuddlement. “Get all that, sport, or are you still worried about body parts falling off?”
That, coupled with the guard’s worried look, almost made Reyes laugh. Though he had not been privy to specifics, he had heard assorted scuttlebutt about Admiral Nogura ordering some kind of medical inspections for all Starfleet and civilian vessels moored at the station. According to the gossip mill ru
“Had to quarantine anyone yet?” Reyes asked.
Fisher nodded. “Two from one of those low-warp freighters. I’ve got them down in the hospital in an isolation ward. So far they’re not showing anything serious, but the regs state we observe them for forty-eight hours.” Casting a look in the guard’s direction, he added, “Nothing’s fallen off yet, but I suppose we’ll see.”
“Mister Reyes,” a voice, low and soft, echoed in Reyes’s mind, and he grunted in surprise at the unexpected intrusion. “This is Lieutenant T’Pry
Studying him warily, Fisher asked, “You all right?”
In his head, Reyes heard T’Pry
Reyes reached down to rub his left calf. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been sitting here too long. Got a cramp.” He cleared his throat as he adjusted his position in the chair, using the opportunity to glance at the guard, who showed no apparent signs of suspecting that anything untoward was taking place.
“You need to watch those,” Fisher replied. “Probably not getting enough potassium in your diet. I’ll have the quartermaster send over a crate of bananas.”
“Doctor Fisher has implanted a subcutaneous, subaural transceiver along your jaw,” T’Pry
Reyes had already guessed that much, as well as figuring that Fisher must also be outfitted with a similar device. Since receiving the initial communication from his former intelligence officer and agreeing to assist her if and when she was able to call upon him, Reyes had been waiting for some sign or signal that she was ready to proceed. Were he able to do so without attracting undue attention from Fisher’s escort, he would have smiled in unabashed admiration at T’Pry
“I will ask you a series of questions,” T’Pry
“Since you’re pumping me full of this and that,” Reyes said, “I don’t suppose you’ve got anything that might help me sleep?”
Fisher nodded. “I can probably help you with that. What’s the matter? All that craziness in the casino keeping you up nights?”
At the same time, T’Pry
It took Reyes a moment to sort both questions in his head, during which he covered the lag with a small chuckle for the benefit of Fisher as well as the guard. Whatever T’Pry
Finally, he answered, “You could say that.”
“Excellent,” T’Pry
“I think I’ve got something here with me that will work,” Fisher said, as he appeared to inspect the contents of his medical kit. “According to your files, you have no allergies. Is that still true?”
On the heels of the doctor’s question, T’Pry
“Yes, that’s right,” Reyes replied, nodding.
Extracting another vial of dark blue liquid from his medical kit, Fisher attached it to the receptor on the end of his hypospray before turning back to Reyes. “This is a vitamin supplement that should help regulate your melatonin levels. Might take a day or two to kick in fully, but you should notice a difference starting tonight.” He placed the hypo against Reyes’s left arm and once more triggered its injector.
Reyes felt the compound entering his bloodstream as T’Pry
“I like the sound of that,” Reyes replied, to Fisher as well as T’Pry
The doctor nodded in apparent satisfaction. “In that case, I think we’re done here.” He said nothing else as he returned his equipment to the satchel he had brought with him. Slinging the bag over his left shoulder, he turned to regard Reyes. “Anything else I can do for you?”
“Bring me some decent coffee?” Reyes answered. “The stuff they serve over here tastes like sweat ru
Pausing as though considering the image that description evoked, Fisher chuckled and shook his head. “Well, so much for my di