From: Nick Subject: 'Stranger with this face' (Sequel to 'Redemption') Part One. Date: Thu, 7 Jan 1999 21:11:08 +0000 MIME-Version: 1.0 Hi folks. This is a sequel to the story i posted before xmas (Redemption). I've not finished it yet but if i don't start posting now i probably never will. Thank you thank you thank you to Mai for being a *brilliant* beta reader! Disclaimer: Not mine. Never have been, never will be. Don't sue me. Author's note: please don't archive/ cross post without asking first. STRANGER WITH THIS FACE PART ONE Dr. Hobbs' Personal Diary: We arrived two days ago to an absolute nightmare. The Lumati Homeworld, ravaged as it is by the virus sweeping through its population, has been brought to a virtual standstill. We still don't know where the disease came from and frankly it's not our job to find out, we're simply here to tend the sick. Dr Franklin and his team at the Xenobiology Research Unit at Earthdome are doing all the detective work and trying to find a vaccine or a cure. Myself and the rest of the trauma team, gleaned from Babylon 5 in my case but also from the Narn Regime, the Drazi Homeworld, the Minbari Federation and Brakir are on the front line, mopping brows, emptying bedpans and praying for miracles that never come. So far only the Lumati themselves have been affected by the virus but my people are in danger of exhaustion. Fortunately we've managed to secure some more med. staff from the Alliance and they should arrive at around the same time as Franklin. The crisis has not been made any easier to cope with by the Lumati who have no medical personnel and virtually no facilities of their own. The Lumati believe that trying to stop an illness or heal an injury is to go against nature and weaken the gene pool as a whole, so they leave their sick to grow worse and to die. Of course, the fact that the disease has only recently begun to attack the ruling half of the species, striking before at the subordinate slave class of less 'superior' Lumati, has nothing to do with their sudden willingness to accept and even ask for help...! The threat of annihilation often has a strange effect on people's beliefs and principles. Still, people volunteered their help even before being asked: the first offworlders to choose to help the Lumati were a group of cargo workers passing through. A small number of them took pity on the slaves afflicted by the terrible disease. One of those workers I realised today, I recognised from a few years ago on Babylon 5. He's a minbari- I remember he was Ambassador Delenn's aide. I'd not seen him for a good few years, not since shortly after Delenn's marriage to President Sheridan. He didn't exactly look pleased to see me but was typically polite and cordial. I get the feeling he wasn't expecting to see anyone from the station- I'm guessing he's on the run from someone or something but I didn't have time to ask. Maybe I'll ask Franklin when he gets here. He's not usually the best for gossip but if he's in contact with Mr Garibaldi- who *always* knows what's going on, then I'm sure he'll know something. A little gossip and the possibility of some scandal would be a welcome distraction... ******************** This room smelt of death. Strange, who would have thought that death would have a smell. But it did: a sickly, cloying stench that clung to everything it came into contact with- walls, floor, sheets, towels, hair, skin. After each shift he would scrub furiously at his skin with the cleansing compound to rid himself of the scent but it was always there. He had even taken to showering in water as some of the other races did but that was no help either- the smell stayed with everything it came into contact with, just as the plague that had precipitated it did. Calmly, he rose to his feet, disengaging his hand from the clenched fist of the now dead man who lay before him. Paying little heed to joints and muscles that protested about being cramped for too long, he closed his eyes and muttered a short prayer he had heard the Lumati offer their dead countless times before. Having tugged a sheet over the dead Lumati's face he moved off, through the ward that had become little more than a 'dying room' and out into the relative cool of the adjoining corridor. "That's the third today." The Brakiri's voice was soft, as empty and devoid of emotion as Lennier's had become. Startled at the sudden sound, Lennier looked up into the kindly face and nodded once in affirmation, "Yes. But there may be more before today is over." "I know. Lennier, you should rest. There's little else you can do today. I'll take over the deathwatch..." "I feel I should-" "Don't worry," the Brakiri placed one hand on his arm, "I won't let *anyone* die alone." Realising that arguing would be futile, Lennier relented, "Very well. How long until the new supplies arrive?" "They're expected the day after tomorrow. That Dr Hobbs told me we'll have equipment and some medical technicians as well as the team being sent from Earth to investigate the virus." "That will be most welcome. Goodnight Grare." Lennier folded his hands and bowed deeply to the smaller man before turning and walking away, his soft steps echoing through the empty corridors of the temple that served as a hospice. "He's exhausted." Dr Hobbs stepped out of an adjoining room, her own fatigue evidenced by the dark circles under her eyes and the pallor of her complexion which was thin and hollowed in the dim light. "He's no worse than the rest of us. Minbari are strong, they cope more easily with stressful situations than some other races." Grare replied, watching after the once muscular man now slight from poor food and little physical exercise. "They bend but rarely break." "How long have you known Lennier?" In the gloom Grare could make out curious eyes in the now frowning face and he reminded himself not to give into idle gossip with someone he knew only in passing. And instead he decided to give as brief an account of his meeting Lennier as possible. "We were both cargo hands aboard a Narn shuttle. We've been bunkmates for over a year- He doesn't say much. Some of the others say that he was exiled from the Anla'shok after an argument with Ambassador Delenn and that he's been drifting ever since." "Is that true?" "I've no idea. And no interest. Most of us cargo hands are drifters searching for something new, often running from something old- it's the way of things out here and we do not ask questions we would not ourselves feel comfortable answering. I do not judge on my comrades past mistakes, but on what I see and know, now. And what I see and know now is a man who rarely eats or rests but spends every moment caring for others. Whatever he may have done in the past, he is working hard to atone for it." *********************** The darkened streets were deserted and eerily silent as the temple when Lennier stepped out of the infirmary. The onset of the epidemic had led people to barricade themselves into their homes to avoid contracting the virus but since many were already infected, this had only increased its spread throughout each household. Now, behind each door Lennier passed, the dead and dying were left unseen and uncounted, only a few making it as far as the temple. The off-worlders' hostel was a tall, imposing building, formed from black glass into what Lennier had heard humans refer to as a 'skyscraper' no different from any of the other buildings in the city. Lumati dwellings were tall towers comprised of one room upon another. His own room was on the fourteenth floor and the lifts hadn't worked since the technician who cared for the hostel became sick ten days ago. The stairs were narrow, steep and winding, formed from the same slippery black glass that made up the rest of the tower and with every step he took Lennier fully expected to slip and stumble to his death. When he eventually arrived at his abode, there was only minimal power and he fumbled about in the near darkness to reach the narrow bed at one end of the room. Mentally congratulating himself for having had the foresight to memorise the journey from door to bed, avoiding the low, sharp edged furniture that, moulded out of the floor and walls, proved to be precarious obstacles, he crawled onto the hard little bed and stared up into the blackness above. Without bothering to meditate or carry out any other traditional minbari sleep rituals, as he once would have, he let heavy eyelids fall shut and entered a fitful slumber filled with images of death and despair on this lonely and doomed planet. ****************** Marianne Charlton's Personal Diary: I can't *believe* I got this assignment. I am *so* excited I can barely sit still. When Dr Franklin offered to sponsor me through further medical training so that I could become a physician's assistant instead of just a medical technician- I mean, I was perfectly content working on Mars in the hospital, but this- I thought things couldn't possibly get any better- now they have... Going to the Lumati homeworld as part of the field team is just going to be so- I mean, I've never even left Mars, even for holidays, I've never even been to Earth and have met so few other races, just a few Narn and Centauri... I've heard the reports, I know that things are pretty terrible out there. Dr Hobbs stellarcommed me the other day to check that I was sure I wanted to do it... Unlike the rest of the PA's that are going with me I'm not going to be part of the investigation team with Dr Franklin, I'll be working as part of the frontline health team in the hospice. I'm trying to imagine the kind of stress and suffering the Lumati people are facing but it's hard, I mean, I grew up here, on Mars where things may sometimes have been difficult but at least we've always had healthcare and whatnot- Still, all I can do is my best that's what my dad used to say, and he was right. **************** With the reassuring coolness of the black glass wall against his back, Lennier let his heart pound in his chest as he tried to calm his breathing. He felt faint with shock and allowed his legs to buckle beneath him, sending his body sliding down the smooth wall until he was squatting, whereupon he pushed his legs out in front of him so that he slumped onto the equally cool, black and glass floor. His dizziness fading, Lennier allowed the concerned voice of the Brakiri man to seep into his consciousness. Slowly the man's face slid into focus and Lennier peered up at him through dazed and bleary eyes. "... You alright, Lennier? Can you hear me?" Grare moved to squat down beside his friend, letting his head fall back against the wall with an exhausted sigh. "I wondered how long it would be before one of us contracted the sickness... Inspite of all the tireless work you do for us here, I did not expect *you* to be the first!" "It is *not* the sickness." Lennier shut his eyes and rested his own head against the wall, relishing its coolness against the bare bone of his crest. "I merely had a surprise." His voice sounded amazingly matter of fact, given what he had just experienced. "Oh? Thank the spirits!" Grare smiled in relief, his manner relaxing against the unyielding wall they leant against. "What kind of *surprise* Lennier? What kind of surprise would turn your skin grey and widen your eyes like a mad thing? What kind of *surprise* would make your heart race like it does now and your breathing accelerate so? What kind of *surprise* could make you stop in your tracks and fight against collapse so that you could stagger away to hide here?" The pains and stresses of life on this sick planet had dulled even the typically acute senses of the Brakiri but in a brief flash, they returned and Grare scrutinised his friend with clear, nervous suspicion. "It is nothing Grare," Lennier meant for his tone to be reassuringly dismissive but one glance into the tiny eyes that watched him so intently told him that the Brakiri would take more convincing. "I merely mistook someone for an individual I once knew. Since I know that person to be dead, the experience was- unsettling." His hands composed in his lap, the minbari spoke with a finality that Grare had seen before. Grare knew that his friend considered the matter to be at a close and that further prying could accomplish nothing. "Very well. I'll fetch you some water." Struggling to his feet, Grare reached a water fountain and filled a paper cup with liquid. "It's been a particularly difficult day, losing so many people- especially that child... he looked to be so much better..." "I know.." Lennier patted the hand that offered a cup to him reassuringly and took one, small, obedient sip before discarding the cup beside him. "The new intake of med. technicians and physician's assistants is going to prove a godsend though... Inspite of today's tragedies I think that we can finally allow ourselves to be more optimistic than before. At least Dr Hobbs seems to think so." "Indeed." Lennier was having difficulty keeping his attention on the conversation Grare was forcing him to have when his mind seemed intent on torturing him with images from the past. Perhaps he had been wrong... It was true that she occupied a vast portion of his thoughts, after all, in recent months she was one of only a few fond memories he had... The woman he'd seen probably bore only a passing resemblance to Deborah, he told himself, but still he wasn't convinced- And if it *was* her... He couldn't bear to think of the consequences of his allowing her to see him... -- All comments/feedback very welcome. Part two will be up shortly but feel free to nag about the rest!- Nick From: Nick Subject: New: Redemption Sequel- 'Stranger with this face' part 2 Date: Mon, 11 Jan 1999 23:50:09 +0000 Here we go again folks. You know the drill: not mine, no profit, don't sue. (And pretty star thingies for those of you who get all my lovely paragraphs mashed together!) Nick xxx Ps feedback makes me write and post more! 'STRANGER WITH THIS FACE' PART TWO * The makeshift ward was dingy with a closeness that got to the new med. team the moment they entered, sterile surgical gowns flapping like paper and expressions still fresh from a shuttle journey passed with hopeful banter and dreams of 'making a difference'. Grare noted to himself how young they all looked compared to the more seasoned volunteers who emptied bedpans, syringes and beds with characteristically lifeless eyes. He himself vaguely remembered wanting to 'make a difference' to these people. That was only six short months ago and now the Lumati were reduced to the nameless, faceless casualties of an enemy that showed no remorse. It had become a matter of mental and emotional survival to distance themselves from the victims they treated. None of them could face losing yet another friend, drinking partner, acquaintance or person he or she said good morning to everyday but did not know the name of... * They were the worst, he supposed, the people he'd not had time to know, people he would have scant memories of and who would thus not live on in his mind, those who would be wholly forgotten in a matter of weeks. * Lennier was seated by a Lumati male, one long fingered and emaciated hand clutching at his small minbari one, almost clawing at him in the vain hope that holding on to one so alive would somehow stave off the inevitable. The male was grey skinned and withered to resemble one twice his age. Desperate eyes fought to see from ulcerated and hollowed sockets. The minbari man paid little heed to the pus weeping from the sores that littered his companion's skin, moving only to mop the perspiration from the dying man's brow. He'd been sitting there a good twelve hours now and would not, Grare knew, move from his station until the Lumati's eyes fell shut one last time with an exhausted and relieved exhalation of breath. * Grare did not know the man's name and nor, he suspected, did Lennier but that hardly mattered for the man believed Lennier to be the son he'd not seen in five years following a trivial argument and now beseeched him for forgiveness. Lennier did nothing to dissuade the man and merely accepted the apologies on behalf of a son who was no doubt dead from the same plague, no doubt murmuring the same pathetic entreaties from a med. tech he mistook for his father. Lennier offered a silent prayer that the man's son had not died alone but in truth the words of the prayer were just that: words. He'd said so many prayers in recent months that he barely heard the words let alone the thoughts behind them. * Clipboards in hand, the gaggle of newly arrived med. techs and physician's assistants hovered for a moment at the doorway, innocent eyes assessing the scene before them. * One woman, the badge clipped to her lapel marking her out as a PA stepped forward a little more decisively than did the others. Her mid length blonde hair was pulled back into a tight French plait and her spectacles hung suspended from a cord that stirred with every breath she took. Grey eyes, tinged a little blue by the reflected colour of her scrubs, surveyed the room. * Row upon row of narrow cots filled the space, each one containing the pitiful near- dead figure of a Lumati in the last stages of the virus, grey, ulcerated skin stretched taught over emaciated frames, eyes wild with thankful madness. The sheets that clothed them were soaked and stained yellow with sweat and urine, the acrid smell of which filled the room. * Allowing her gaze to reach upwards she noted that the room had no ventilation and wondered to herself whether the Lumati would strongly object to having holes drilled in the ceiling of their temple to allow installation of some form of air conditioning. * There only appeared to be a few volunteers here today, was this all there was? Spying a human woman bent over a patient, her hair falling in front of her face as she hastily sought out a pulse, Marianne approached. * "Dr Hobbs?" The older woman looked up, removing her gloves and signalling to two techs to remove the corpse from the cot to make room for someone else, and shook her head. "I'm Marianne Charlton, one of the team Dr Franklin sent." Registering the young woman's words somewhere in her mind, Dr Hobbs nodded vaguely and briefly shook the proffered hand. * "Where is Stephen?" * "Dr Franklin has started investigating already. He thought he had a lead on Patient Zero" * "Ah." Fetching a new set of gloves form the dwindling collection in the pocket of her scrubs, Hobbs nodded again. "I take it you've brought supplies... And you can organise yourselves. I'd like my volunteers to get some rest as soon as possible- we've all been pulling double and even triple shifts." * "Of course. If we could hold a short changeover meeting with your staff, we can get started right away." * The meeting was held in one corner of the room which, curtained off with plastic sheeting, served as an impromptu staffroom. There weren't enough plastic cups to go around so friends shared cups of coffee between themselves. Scanning the room Marianne noted that there were two Narns, a Brakiri, a Drazi and a Minbari working as volunteers in the hospice in addition to a smattering of humans. All looked tired and drawn, the Brakiri a little wired, obviously suffering the after-effects of too much caffeine. The two Narns were thinner than was the norm, their structured and battle-oriented clothing hanging stiffly from tired shoulders, but they stood straight and proud- typical of the Narns, she thought. The Drazi looked a little less angered than most Drazi normally did; she sagged bonelessly against a desk, her paper cup held in one hand that hung limply at her side. *Beside the Brakiri stood a neat and composed looking Minbari, his head lowered and his hands folded. She'd never met a Minbari before but strangely something about his air seemed familiar. However, déjà vu was something she had long ago become accustomed to experiencing and mentally she reminded herself of what her medical textbooks had to say on the matter: That it was simply the mental misplacing of information wherein new data is coded accidentally as old. * The Minbari did not glance up from his folded hands until the introductions were made whereupon he appeared to be suddenly hit by a dizzy spell of some sort and hastily left the room. Maybe he was anxious of speaking in public, she reasoned, or maybe he'd suddenly been hit by the fatigue that already affected his comrades. Secretly she hoped that it was not a first sign of the virus which had, until now confined itself only to the Lumati. If the disease mutated to jump species then the results could be catastrophic for the rest of the Alliance and not just the Lumati. ******************** Lennier had no idea how he had made it out of the temple and back to his rooms. Panic still flexed her claws at his gut and sucked the air out of his lungs, squeezing with no discernible rhythm at his heart until he thought that his internal organs would shut themselves down in protest. * <> The tortured soul he'd comforted into a death of sorts no longer lived inside the grey eyes that glanced appraisingly around the staffroom. Deborah had been a thin and mousy creature with dirty blonde hair and a pallid complexion; her posture stooped and closed, her expression equally so. * Marianne was, by comparison, a bright and vivacious young woman, well covered and sturdily built. Her expression alive and her actions animated, she captured the attention of her audience with her ideas, comments and suggestions and managed to flirt with all around her just enough to take the desperate edge off their situation. Marianne was everything that Deborah could have been had real life not gotten in the way. And what was more, she *deserved* to be allowed to remain so. * Lennier knew that he had to ensure that she stayed that way even if it meant leaving the Lumati homeworld right away. Which was why he now found himself hastily throwing his pitifully few belongings into a bag. ***************** "Stephen!" Dr Hobbs couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice as Franklin's familiar shape stepped off the transport, an overnight bag slung over one shoulder, creasing his rain-Mac impossibly. * "Long time no see!" he held out one hand for her to shake and when she took it, used it instead to pull her into an impulsive bear hug. * "It's about time you got here.." she whispered against his shoulder, fighting back relieved tears that now threatened to ruin her hard-come- by calmness. The sight of a familiar face, a human face, fresh and alive with no sign of the sickness or stress was having a strange effect on her and shamefully brushing the tears from her face with the back of her hand, she tried to shrug off her sudden show of emotion. Refusing to accept her mumbled apologies, he pulled her back into yet another bruising hug which lasted until he was sure she'd calmed down and gave the other members of his team completely the wrong idea... * "Well," he murmured, glancing around at the medical practitioners around them who all busied themselves with examining the floor, the shuttle fuselage, their luggage tickets, "At least that should stop my secretary trying to fix me up with her daughter... Come on you better fill me in on what's been happening since we last spoke?" * "Most of your team already arrived yesterday, thank god. They're a good bunch and believe me; we needed new staff desperately. That PA you sent impressed me particularly..." * "Marianne Charlton? I thought she might. She was wasted as a med. tech and I figured she'd be good out here- she's a lot more compassionate than most PA's or doctors. Her family were killed in a shuttle crash about two years back and she spent a *helluva* long time in hospital..." * "Mm, she's good at thinking on her feet but at the same time she's managed to hold onto her bedside manner- that's vital in the situation we're in." * The two friends wandered out of the hangar and toward the makeshift hospital, arm in arm, the rest of the med. workers trailing along behind. * "We didn't have much luck tracking down that lead. The virus infesting the colony on that moon near Centauri Prime wasn't related to this one..." * "Which is something to be grateful for- I don't think we could cope with another outbreak of this disease elsewhere as well as here." * "I know but it means we're no closer to finding out where the disease came from or how to treat it. That the disease could spread to anyone else is unthinkable I know but we know so little about Lumati physiology... at least with the Centauri we might be able to treat the illness more readily or at least follow the disease *closely* enough to build a model of it's progress... With the Lumati we're really fighting in the dark. I guess we just wanted to bring you people *some* good news..." * "I know. And you're doing everything you can. This thing hasn't got the better of us yet!" * Their conversation was interrupted by Grare's urgent sounding voice on Hobbs' commlink; "This is Dr Hobbs. What is it Grare?" * "Dr Hobbs, you should hurry- Palorr just collapsed." * "Damn! I'm on my way." Grabbing Franklin's arm she pulled him toward the temple which stretched up above them, foreboding in the dusk. * "Who's Palorr?" * "One of the volunteers who got here before I did- she's Drazi." Hobbs noticed that the other med. staff were exchanging grim looks: this wasn't what they'd come here for- the disease was only supposed to affect Lumati, it wasn't supposed to jump species. * "Lets' not jump to conclusions yet. A lot of the original volunteers are still over stretching themselves and are suffering from exhaustion- it may be just that." * "She's right. And even if it is the virus, we still have a job to do." **************** "Well, that confirms it." Franklin scowled at the test tube his colleague held in rubber-gloved fingers. The tube was half-filled with a green- tinged liquid and Hobbs was shaking the thing gingerly between thumb and forefinger as if shaking it one more time would somehow change the result. Marianne had taken the sample from the middle aged Drazi, perched on the edge of the patient's cot, her best 'its nothing to worry about' smile thinly stretched over her face. Now the same PA gave her patient's hand a firm squeeze. * "It'll be okay- We know a lot more about how your body works than we do about the Lumati- we'll have a cure in no time. And Drazi immune systems are one of the strongest we know, you might fight this off all by yourself!" * Looking on with the other volunteers though, Grare knew otherwise. He'd seen just how bad this virus could get and he knew that while it would be several days before the Drazi died, that she would soon wish her death advanced sooner... * And where was Lennier? The testing of all volunteers was vital now and already people were lining up, their left sleeves rolled up in readiness for the bloodtest. * "We'll have to extend the quarantine to include non-Lumati as well." Franklin muttered to Hobbs as she filled a vial with a sample of his blood * "I know." Nodding grimly she handed him a fresh syringe as she deposited his in the storage rack to one side "Now you do me." ******************* Lennier's rushed packing was largely finished now and without a backward glance, he left his rooms and all but flew down the steps. There was a transport leaving the planet in fifteen minutes- he didn't have long but he knew he could make it- he had to. * The queue to check in wasn't long but seemed to be taking ages and Lennier wondered to himself what the hold up could be. Finally the barrier lifted and he and the scarce other passengers were allowed leave to embark. * The cabin was cramped, claustrophobic and Lennier found himself practising the breathing exercises he'd been taught in the rangers to calm the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm him, drive him out of his seat and off of this shuttle, make him run back to the temple just so that he could see her one more time- convince himself that it wasn't really her, that it was safe for him to stay and be near her... * The doors were closing and the engines starting up. The pilot's voice was tinny over the slightly basic tanoy system, announcing take-off in approximately 30 seconds. Screwing his eyes up tight, Lennier tried to block out Deborah's image from where it had plastered itself over the insides of his eyelids. This was the *only* way. Not long now... * The engines stopped. What was happening? ****************** "That was the shuttle port," Stanton, a young, slightly green-looking med. tech looked up from the computer monitor, "Quarantine's in place. Only one shuttle got through before the message reached them. There were only a few passengers onboard and they stop at the next moon for refuelling before heading for Earth." * "Good. Have a biohazard team meet them there just in case. Tell 'em not to be too heavy handed." * "Understood" * "Did anyone manage to get hold of the passenger manifest?" Franklin half yelled into the throng of people to-ing and fro-ing through the makeshift staffroom/ office/ incident room. * "Yep." Hobbs was flicking through a sheaf of papers, a biro tapping rhythmically on her lower lip. * "Any Drazi? They're our main concern since we know them to be receptive to the virus." * Impatiently pinning a few unruly locks of hair form her face by twisting her hair into a knot and securing it with the pen, Hobbs scanned the list quickly. "Um... two humans, a minbari...no. No Drazi." She looked up in some amount of relief and the others mirrored her expression. Only Grare looked startled. Minbari? He knew as well as anyone that there had only been one minbari on the Lumati homeworld- Lennier. ***************** -- Nick