The Red King - Michael A. Martin [15]
Removing his medical tricorder from his belt, Ree displayed his formidable array of teeth. “Nonsense, Mr. Mekrikuk. My first responsibility is the preservation of life.” He ran a brief scan, comparing the results to the readings he saw displayed over the biobed. Fixing his gaze back upon his patient, he said, “I must say, you have remarkable recuperative powers.”
Mekrikuk smiled, revealing his own sharp dentition. “That may be the only reason I have endured these many years, Doctor. When do you think I might be released from your infirmary?”
Ree resumed looking at his tricorder. “A few days at most.” And what then? he thought, recalling that Mekrikuk had already made a formal request for political asylum so as not to be returned to captivity at the hands of the Romulans. He knew that the captain would have to hold a hearing, whenever circumstances permitted. But since there was no place to drop Mekrikuk off afterward, would the Reman become a permanent passenger aboard Titan? Or a member of the crew?
Ree was thankful then that such matters fell outside his purview.
Bidding his patient a polite farewell, Ree crossed sickbay to one of the other biobed alcoves. He noticed that Ogawa had fallen into step beside him as Ranul Keru’s pale, still form came into view. Lieutenant T’Lirin, a female Vulcan security officer, sat ramrod-straight in a chair at Keru’s bedside. Though her facial expression was as impassive as that of any Vulcan, Ree got the impression that she was holding a personal grief vigil for her fallen superior officer.
T’Lirin nodded a silent acknowledgment at Ree and Ogawa as they approached Keru’s side. The Vulcan woman then quietly withdrew.
“Is there any good news on Commander Keru?” Ree asked Ogawa quietly, even though he could see the biobed readings—all of which indicated coma—as well as she could.
Ogawa frowned and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Doctor. There’s been no change.”
Ree nodded sadly, reminding himself that Keru’s condition had at least not declined any further. There was no reason to despair, at least not yet. The tall, bearded Trill breathed shallowly, as though he was merely asleep. The facial contusions and scrapes he had received during the battle over Romulus were healing, but Ree could see that underneath his eyelids, Keru’s eyes were motionless.
Not sleeping. Elsewhere.
Backing out of the biobed alcove, Ree headed toward the isolation room. Along the way, he passed the biobed of Lieutenant Feren Denken, the Matalinian security officer who had lost his right arm during the raid on Vikr’l Prison. Denken was sleeping, and Ree saw the man’s bandaged stump lying atop the blanket. Denken had made it known that his culture’s philosophical beliefs forbade him from accepting any kind of artificial body part, meaning that for all intents and purposes, his career in security was likely over. Ree knew that it wasn’t his place to question such decisions, even if he didn’t understand or agree with them. Of course, Denken’s injury would be far easier for me to endure, he thought. Pahkwa-thanh limbs regenerate on their own.
Leaving Ogawa to tend to the comatose Trill, Ree moved on toward the OB/GYN room. Although Pahkwa-thanh biology supported no human-compatible pathogens, he nevertheless donned a sterile gown before entering the chamber’s bio-isolation field. He saw Axel Bolaji, the father of the premature infant Dr. Onnta had delivered some thirty hours earlier, dozing in a chair to the right of the biobed. Shuttle pilot Olivia Bolaji was sitting up on the biobed, gazing into the mobile incubator unit in which her tiny, dark-skinned child lay sleeping.
As alien as humans and humanoids were to him, Ree had no trouble recognizing the fatigue etched in her dark brown face—as well as the anxiety that creased her forehead.
Olivia offered him a tired smile. “Hello, Doctor.” She trained her gaze back on the tiny, still form contained within the plasteel barrier. “How is my son?”
Ree paused to examine the readouts attached to the incubator. For such a premature