Symbiosis Chapter 21

“You must use a new drug, a new treatment, a different kind of medicine,” she said. “This germ is hard to kill.”

“Humans have drug to kill?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. Ferris fidgeted in her chair some. She looked at the captain for instructions. He could only shake his head.

“We have two problems,” she continued. “Manufacture of drug, distribution of drug. We need Cinconians to help. Humans cannot do all for you.”

“We can pay humans to do,” Akadar said.

“We do not have enough people.” A silence fell that bothered Jackson. He waited for the translation.

“We can buy new drug from Pegasi?”

“They don’t have it.”

Jackson looked at Rianya and then back at Ferris. He was growing impatient, and frustrated, that he didn’t understand the conversation. He huffed loudly and looked back at Akadar. Dr. Ferris quickly gave the captain a summary of their conversation. He nodded his appreciation. Akadar bowed his head.

“Pegasi can make much drugs. Can Pegasi make drug if you instruct?” the hairy fellow asked.

“No, Pegasi must not help,” Ferris said. “They perpetuated disease by give you wrong drug.” Although not entirely accurate, it sounded reasonable to Jackson. Akadar sat back in his chair with what could only be described as puzzlement on his face, his eyes wide, and his ears raised. “We must isolate every Cinconian with disease. We must treat them. And we must treat everyone with symptoms for many moons to come. Only then will it stop.”

“We three hundred million sick last count.”

“Humans can only give you one million doses. You must make the rest and distribute it on whole planet.”

“Such plan could take several planet trips around Eta Cass.”

“We estimate eight years, eight trips around star,” Ferris said. Her voice was steady, low, and the captain felt she’d said something grave to Yee Akadar. He fidgeted in his chair instead of expressing his anguish verbally.

“We trust Pegasi to help. Are you sure you help be rightly?”

“It will work if we distribute enough drug as soon as possible.”

“Did you tell him we need them to make a factory to produce the doses?” Rianya asked Dr. Ferris. She nodded.

“We want to bring some medicine down and treat your sickest citizens, make sure it works. But we can get sick, too,” Ferris explained, motioning to indicate the three of them. “This has to be well organized with no mistakes.”

“I understand,” he said. “You give instruction and we do.”

“Here are the basic steps. We will give you details shortly,” she said, and handed Yee Akadar a portable reader.

• · Cancel large social gatherings; suspend education at all schools; strict quarantine unnecessary.
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• · Treat infected first with two different drugs. 
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• · Treat asymptomatic with gene plasmid vector.
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• · Bring drugs to people, do not require people to go to clinics.
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• · Must be global effort starting in largest cities.

“Is this going to be possible?” she asked the yee.

“We will communicate best we can. Will need many citizens and doctors.”

“We can train you, teach you, but you must stop everything else and focus on this. It’s war on the bacteria.”

“Was war that brought bacteria,” Akadar said absent-mindedly.

“What?” Ferris asked. She turned quickly to Jackson. “He just said war brought it here.”

“War with who?” he snapped

“Pegasi?” Ferris asked. The short-furred lemur in a lab coat shook his head.

“Sky Runners,” he told her. Jackson watched as they spoke back and forth.

“How?”

“Every people know! They sent sick peoples from sky in flying metal box transporters. Those people sick, made us sick. All died, but disease not gone. It come back. Then all die and it gone again, then come back. Now we all die. We don’t want it come back.”

“Other people like you, like Cinconians?” she asked.

“Not like us. Not like big green Pegasi. Like you but shorter, more fur, not wear garments like you wear.”

“Captain,” Ferris said quietly. She turned to face him clearly hoping Akadar wouldn’t know what she was about to say. She glanced at Rianya then back to the captain. “I think he is describing the Kiians as the ones that brought the plague.

“Biological bombs?”

“No, infected people he describes as short and hairy, not in uniforms like we are.” She turned back to the Cinconian. “War, explosions, taking over your planet? Weapons?”

“We have information o’ library,” he said, and took a hand-held screen out of the desk drawer, propping it up on the surface and selecting a button, then several icons.

“May I?” Dr. Ferris asked, holding the screen. Yee Akadar pushed it toward her. She examined it with Rianya and Jackson looking on.

“What is all this?” Rianya asked.

It showed crude illustrations of large, black boxes spilling a primate species, not Kiians, onto the land, accompanied large batches of text. More illustrations showing the symptoms of Yersinia on the invaders were followed by more text. The last pictures showed what appeared to be Cinconians with Yersinia symptoms, Kiians killing Cinconians with handheld weapons, and documentation that appeared slightly different from the text. Jackson pointed to those characters.

“Numbers, Captain.”

“Would these be Cuatrons? They were at war with Kiians?” Jackson uttered.

“I’m not so sure,” Rianya said. “These aren’t Kiians,” she indicated, pointing at the ones spilling from boxes. “This doesn’t look like a war, it looks like, maybe, the Kiians are killing the very sick Cinconians. See, they are all infected, showing symptoms.”

“Kill the sick instead of heal them?” Ferris stared at Rianya, then Jackson, then back at her. “That’s barbaric,” Ferris said.

“It can happen. It could be a mercy killing,” Jackson said quietly, not wanting to speak of it aloud.

“Would you expect that of the Kiians?” Ferris said with incredulity. Jackson thought back to the last time he dealt with Kiians. They weren’t unreasonable, or particularly evil, but they were about serving their own interests.

“Maybe less to put the Cinconians out of pain but to stop the spread of the disease?” he suggested.

“They want a detailed plan,” Ferris said, handing the electronic document back to Yee Akadar.

“Tell him we’ll bring someone and something down tomorrow. I’ll get Adams to work with you on this.”

“A day, Captain? You’re giving Doc and me a day?”

“Just come up with a containment and treatment plan, not cure the plague. Leave that to Adams.” She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, turned to Yee Akadar and explained the best she could.

“All okay?” Jackson asked.

“We’ve been invited to the evening meal, and to enjoy the day here. Not sure I have time for that,” she muttered dryly.

“You and Chen go back to Maria Mitchell. Rianya and I will play ambassadors.”

“You risk infection the longer you stay down here.”

“We’ll stay away from anyone sick. Tell Cat to watch Zalara for us, my request,” he said, biding her goodbye.

“You sure you don’t need a translator?”

“I’m sure we do, but we’ll muddle through,” Jackson told her, then smiled slightly at Rianya. When they’d first met, they couldn’t communicate, but it didn’t take long to come to a meeting of minds.

Yee Akadar made a circular motion in the air as if he were cleaning a plate glass window, then pushed a portable reading device across the table to the Jacksons. Tom picked it up and saw a map of the city and outlying area.

“Als het donker komen hier,” Akadar said to them and tapped a spot on the screen. Tom wished Ferris hadn’t already left.

“Yes,” Tom said blankly, and with a nod of his head, they took leave of Yee Sanga Akadar from his office to the outdoors. Both quickly put on their field jackets but it wasn’t so cold that they actually needed them zipped.

“What do you think he was talking about?” Rianya asked as they walked away. Tom’s face was in the map, orienting himself to the map and their current locale.

“Hmm? Oh, my guess is dinner is here,” he said, tapping the same spot Akadar had. “What time is anyone’s guess.”

“The evening,” she said. “What should we do until then?”

“I don’t really feel like business today. Look at the mountains behind the city, all icy and covered in snow, and the meadows in the plains at the base of the range.” Tom looked at Rianya, seeing a subtle joy dancing in her eyes. He looked back at the mountains before her web snared him. “Let’s take a walk. It’s been a long time since we’ve been on terra firma.”

“I could use something to eat.”

“I’m not sure I know how to find a restaurant on this map,” Tom muttered. “Maybe up that direction?” he said, looking away from the map and nodding at a nondescript one story building that had smoke rising from its chimney.

Once inside they took seats at a table but found their legs dangled above the floor a bit. Chairs made for Cinconians were not dually compatible with humans. A Cinconian with dark brown fur, somewhat longer than most, came to talk to them.

“Je bent niet van hier,” the feminine voice said, and she pointed to a menu written on the wall. “Wat wil je?"

“We’ll have that,” Rianya said promptly, pointing to something that looked edible being carried to a table across the room. The Cinconian made the same ‘glass cleaning’ gesture that Akadar had, then left. She returned with two stoneware bowls of water for each of them.

“Think of it as a really large, short cup,” Tom said with a chuckle and holding it with both hands he drank from the side. The water was sweet and cool, and he almost finished the whole thing when it occurred to him that he could have just been infected by the plague. They were sitting with many other Cinconians, and who knows if they’d washed the tableware?

“Tom, are you alright?”

“This may have been a bad idea, plague contamination,” Tom muttered. Upon a second thought, however, none of the diners seemed infected. Still uncertain of the staff in the kitchen, he pushed the bowl a few centimeters away. Rianya scoffed a snicker and took a long drink of the water using the bowl as a large two handed mug.

Tom had never seen the kind of things they brought to the table before that moment. One dish seemed to be made of clear worm segments like fat, transparent spaghetti. Another dish might have been a plant stem cut into discs and served with a runny green sauce. A third dish he recognized: a dozen small eggs, raw, with embryos, cracked open into a shallow bowl.

“Just what did you order?” he asked Rianya as if she’d taken leave of her senses.

“It looked good on the tray.”

“It has no smell,” Tom said. “How do we know if it’s good or spoiled?”

“I don’t think they would serve it spoiled.”

“Vijfentachtig munten,” the Cinconian said, and held out her naked palm.

“You think she wants money?” Tom said realizing they had no money. Rianya’s lips drew into a straight line and her eyes grew round and black like an owl’s.

“Yee Sanga Akadar,” Tom said, gesturing as if he were dropping coins into her hand. Her head tilted, nodded, and her hand again made the circular ‘cleaning glass’ motion and she left.

“Should we try it?” Tom asked with trepidation. He looked for utensils, then saw that no diners had them; all simply ate from the side of the bowls.

“I can’t eat dead baby things,” Rianya said, not taking her eyes off the egg dish. She lifted the bowl of transparent spaghetti and slipped some into her mouth. She shuddered then nodded. “Tasteless worms,” she uttered and set the bowl back down on the table.

Tom lifted the dish of small discs in green sauce and tipped the bowl just enough to taste it. He nodded and took more, realizing he, too, was hungry and hadn’t noticed.

“Not bad. Here, try this, it tastes like asparagus in seaweed sauce.”

“Never mind, Tom. I’m not hungry anymore.” Tom looked at Rianya and opened his wrist com.

“Dr. Ferris, Mr. Lee, have you left the surface yet?”