“He had a panic attack.”
“Most panic attacks don’t require me to put the patient into a medically induced coma.”
Commander Rowan Hale held his tongue. He hadn’t known the chief medical officer long, and was unsure if his dry wit would land. “When Creator told him that all the Astrid people would die if a replacement was not found, he spiraled and then spun out of control.”
Lieutenant Ada Josephs glanced at the comatose patient. “And this…Creator was no help?”
“He fled deeper into his apartment. I think his telepathic senses were unprepared for Mr. Joura’s experience.” He changed subjects. “Any luck on figuring out a way to reverse their aging decline?”
She picked up a PADD, handing it over. “Whatever Creator did to them, whatever influence Astridina V has over them is far more advanced than anything we could have cooked up. It is interesting. What little time our patient spent on the planet had an effect. I noted several changes in DNA, skin cells, brain cells, and several other areas. It was as if a booster hypospray had given him a natural boost to his immune system. With time, we’ll figure it out.”
Hale handed the PADD back. “We may have the gift of time, but this system is on a timer. The sooner we can wake up Mr. Joura, the sooner we can figure out how to tell the rest of his people that timer comes with a life or death choice.”
Ada grumbled, annoyed at the forces outside her control. “I don’t like being rushed. Medicine isn’t a game for the impatient.”
Rowan turned, heading for the door. “Sometimes we don’t have a choice, Lieutenant Josephs.”
She contemplated kicking the bottom of the console and steeled herself. Peter Joura needed to be stabilized, and she needed to talk him down from another panic attack once he was awake.
Ada muttered to herself, “It’s never boring on the Perseverance.”
“That’s 100,000 people we’re going to have to move.” Mackenzie’s captain, Wren Walton, was on Perseverance’s viewscreen, annoyed. “Could this all be some kind of stunt designed to get them back under his control?”
Captain Park drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. Rowan had asked the same question. “We’re not sure. Science teams have spread out across the planet to the other towers to investigate. The planet is stable. Our scans below the crust and beyond have come back clean.”
“I sense a ‘but’ about to make this more complicated.”
Park sheepishly replied, “There’s enough evidence based on the brief scans we got of Creator and his living facility that suggests his version of the scenario is real and possible. Peter Joura is still in a medically induced coma. Based on what you have there, what are the chances this goes smoothly?”
“I think if this had happened five years ago, we’d have an easier time convincing this entire civilization to move. There’s an overriding sense of cultural strife in the streets, Park. Politics and religion have focused on understanding the falling life expectancy. It has not been pretty. Faith in Creator is an old tradition rooted in the original scriptures. They’ve spent many of the intervening years adding additional translations and interpretations. Your man may be among the last of the true believers.”
Park wondered, “Joura recognized Creator the moment he saw him. Do you think if we had a visual communication channel between him and the Astrid people, it might make a difference?”
“I will ask the trusted few I know on this side. We’re still trying to build connections with the political elite. The religious leaders divide themselves into sects, and sometimes it’s hard to find common concepts between them. The last 200 years have not been kind to the Astrid people. Belief and faith as we knew them are in contrast with the Astrids and how they understand them. I’m going to put in a call to the Cushing and the Hopkins. Between the two of them, we can get 12,000 people at a time. Gotta love the Olympic class. Good luck, Perseverance. Updates as we have them”
“To you as well, Mackenzie.” The channel closed, and Park turned to the bridge. “Short of waking Peter Joura up, we’re going to need ideas.”
