throng.
“Started around two a.m. standard ship time,” he said. “Physician’s Assistant Bevar reported getting calls and a few walk-ins, even at that hour.”
She tapped the proper tab on the desk’s AI console to signify she was on duty. “And the symptoms?”
“You won’t like it—gastrointestinal. Diarrhea, vomiting, fever, cramps.”
Emily stared at him for a moment before sinking into her chair, hand to her forehead. “Tell me we’re not dealing with a norovirus. Remind me how many passengers are aboard?”
“About three thousand, which is a light load. We’re still in shakedown mode. And a thousand crew members.”
“And we’ve got how many sick?”
“So far, maybe fifty passengers in total between the early morning arrivals and now. No crew. Bevar took samples where he could. Waiting for Maeve to do the analysis.” The nurse anticipated her next question.
“We may not have seen the bug before.” Emily wasn’t too hopeful about lab results. “The Sectors is a big place and viruses mutate all the time. What did Bevar prescribe?”
“Bed rest, fluids, Galamialate for relief of the gastrointestinal symptoms.” Vicente grinned. “The passengers think we’re the next thing to miracle workers once the med kicks in and their nausea and associated unpleasant symptoms disappear.”
Emily nodded. “Good, a thorough protocol. How much do we stock?
“I keep a large quantity on hand,” Maeve said. “And I can synthesize more if needed. There are calls queuing, Doctor.”
“Why wasn’t I alerted when the first rush came in?” Upset, she questioned Vicente more harshly than she’d intended.
He spread his hands and shrugged. “I wasn’t on duty then.”
“I made the decision not to disturb you,” Maeve said, voice hard. “You needed your rest.”
Emily waited for her to add to that remark, but the AI was apparently done. Emily’s secrets were hers to keep. “Thank you, Maeve.”
Although he gave her a curious glance, Vicente didn’t ask any questions. “The incoming calls are probably more infected passengers wanting us to visit their cabins. Orders, Doctor?”
“I need to speak with the captain right away. You and the staff go ahead and evaluate the patients we have, and I’ll be out to help as soon as I can. Maeve, please tell anyone calling us with these symptoms to remain in their cabin, and we’ll have someone visit at the earliest possible moment. Tell them they must remain in their cabin. Deactivate their door key code as extra incentive not to leave. Screen the calls for anything else, or unusual symptoms, and alert me to those.”
“Yes, Doctor.” No matter what the crisis, the AI was perennially composed.
Vicente gave her a mock salute and left the office. Emily shook her head. Of all the things to be facing the morning after going on a bender. The Lords of Space must hate her. At least no one normally died of norovirus. She wanted no more deaths on her conscience. The next few days would be insanely busy, though, as fast as a gut bug could spread. “Can you get me Captain Fleming and patch Jake in on the call?”
Maeve responded at once. “One moment.”
“Fleming.” The captain’s voice was rock hard and calm, his demeanor reserved.
Emily could see from the vid display that Jake was on as well. She avoided meeting his eyes, self-conscious about last night and at a loss for what to say without being too revealing. She focused on Fleming. “Bad news, I’m afraid. We may be in the first throes of a norovirus hitting the passengers.”
Fleming didn’t blink. “How many affected?”
“Thirty diagnosed positively since two a.m., seventy-five more probables, plus two crew,” Maeve reported before Emily could say anything. “The most updated figures available.”
Making a mental note to talk to the AI later about medical protocol when it came to informing the doctor in charge of updates before anyone else received a briefing, she said,