Free Domain of the Dead by David Moody, Iain McKinnon, Travis Adkins Page B

breaking stride. “This will go tight on your arm for a moment.” Looking back up at Sarah, she continued, “The virus appears to need to colonise the body to survive.”
    The machine whirred as a motorised pump inflated the cuff.
    “So if it doesn’t survive outside the body, are we the natural reservoir?” Sarah asked.
    “No,” Dr. Robertson said as she unhooked Jennifer from the blood pressure monitor. “I don’t think so. It’s too destructive, too contagious and too quick. If it had been in humans before it would have surfaced—”
    “Doctor Robertson,” a man in the crisp blue uniform said as he stepped into the examination room. Suddenly the cabin felt cramped.
    The man was old but energetic, with a complexion that looked as weathered as his ship. He reminded Sarah of her great uncle. His stride was confident and his face reflected a hard fought life, no scars just well worn with rough and sagging skin. The man’s hat looked old in comparison to his uniform, as old perhaps as his thin translucent skin, but its millered perfection outshone the baseball style caps the rest of the crew wore.
    “Captain Warden, let me introduce our guests.” Dr. Robertson gestured with her hand. “This is Sarah, Nathan and Jennifer.”
    “Let me extend my sympathies,” Captain Warden said. “I hear from Private Bates and Private Chernov that you lost companions this morning.”
    “We did,” Sarah said. Both she and Nathan dropped their gaze at the thought. Sarah composed herself. “Thank you, Captain. I don’t know what we would have done if your men hadn’t come along.”
    “You’re lucky they did,” Dr. Robertson said as she labelled Jennifer’s sample. “I’m surprised you had the strength to make it to the helicopter.” She turned her head to face the captain as she worked on the samples. “Captain, both Sarah and Nathan are malnourished. Another few weeks and I don’t think they could have made it. I’ll give them all vitamin shots, but other than that it’s just a matter of diet.”
    “Good.” Captain Warden looked around the small medical bay as if he were looking for some lost item. “I’ve asked Commander Patterson to arrange some quarters.” Unable to locate the imagined object, he addressed Sarah. “Once you’ve had time to get cleaned up, I’d like to invite you to the Captain’s table for supper. I’m sure we all have a lot of questions.”
    Sarah and Nathan thanked him.
    “Doctor Robertson, where is Professor Cutler?”
    “He’s working on an important culture right now,” Dr. Robertson said, her voice flat and clipped.
    “Wasting more specimens?” Captain Warden said.
    Doctor Robertson put down what she was working with, turned and folded her arms. “No, he’s working on cultures. Those are the small round dishes.”
    Captain Warden’s face flushed red as he jabbed a nicotine-stained finger in Dr. Robertson’s direction. “Don’t...” He lowered his hand and took an audible breath. He cast his eyes over the survivors before steeling his gaze once more on Dr. Robertson. “This is a conversation for later. In the meantime you have another patient to attend to.” Captain Warden called into the corridor, “Private Chernov.”
    “Yes, sir,” Angel replied in her creamy Russian lilt.
    She came to the door, but didn’t enter, unwilling to add to the already crowded room. Instead she stood in the corridor supporting her injured arm with her good one.
    “What seems to be the matter?” Dr. Robertson asked.
    Captain Warden stepped out of the line of view so that the doctor could see the deep purple bruise emanating from Angel’s elbow.
    A disembodied voice billowed down the corridor, “Is the Captain with you?”
    “Yes, Commander,” Angel spat out the harsh K like it was an insult.
    “Ah, Commander Patterson,” Captain Warden said as Patterson popped into view from round the door. “Would you show our guests to their quarters? They’ve had quite a day and I’m