The ship’s automatic timer turned on the “daytime” lights. Jess’s suggestion about creating a day-night cycle had been popular with the crew, who were each struggling to get acclimated to their new environment. Time was an odd concept on the sea lab. The MC had the ship’s lights scheduled to simulate a day-night interval and help the crew’s natural waking and sleeping patterns, called circadian rhythm.
The crew members awoke to the smell of coffee and slowly found their ways to the bathroom to wash and dress, mumbling quiet “good mornings” to each other as they passed in the hallways. They eventually assembled in the galley on Deck Four, where Jessica and Tony were already seated, having coffee.
Mike walked in, unshaven and looking tired. “Well aren’t you two chipper for such an early hour,” he grumbled.
“Already two cups ahead of you. You look like crap,” said Tony with a toothy grin.
“Coffee me, baby,” Mike responded.
Tony poured him a large mug. “Up late?” he asked.
“Yeah. Lost track of time. The whole day-night thing has me all screwed up. I gotta start keeping track of my sleep hours.”
Tony nodded his head. “Life on a sub, man.”
“I’d like to work with you on that,” said Jessica. “We can set your watch with timers to tell you when you should turn off your lights and try and get to sleep. And napping is fine, too, if you find yourself sleeping less hours than normal.”
“Thanks, mom,” he grumbled.
“I’m serious, Mike. Lack of sleep will hurt your effectiveness. It can even make you more prone to narcosis.”
“She’s right, man. Take it from a submariner. You gotta sleep.”
The rest of the crew filed in and commented on the smell of coffee. As Mike started preparing breakfast, having been unofficially named the ship’s cook, Tony realized Ian wasn’t present. He looked at Jessica, “Well, at least one of us knows how to sleep late.”
They chuckled. “Not even the smell of coffee woke him up? He must have been up late, too,” said Jessica.
Tony leaned very close and spoke so quietly Jessica could barely hear him. “We didn’t get much sleep, and I feel fantastic,” he whispered.
She blushed and looked away. “I’m starving!” she yelled over to Mike, trying to change the subject quickly.
“Worked up an appetite?” Tony whispered.
“Shut up!” she whispered back. He hid his smile. It had been quite a wonderful evening.
As they were finishing breakfast, Ian finally showed up. He was looking in even worse shape than Mike had when he first arrived. Mike saw his face and laughed. He yelled over as Ian took a seat. “No worries, my good man! We have coffee!”
Ian forced a smile.
“You okay?” asked Jessica.
“Yeah. Just need coffee,” he mumbled as he wiped his face. The low-grade fever gave him a headache.
The group of them enjoyed Mike’s breakfast cuisine and bantered over coffee. Ted was his usual standoffish self, more of an observer than active conversationalist. Jim had each of them describe what they were working on. When it was Ian’s turn, his usual excitement over his research was missing. He was quiet and flat in his presentation, to the point where even Jim asked what was wrong. Ian finally admitted he wasn’t feeling that great. Jessica had him follow her up to sickbay, where she could examine him in private. They entered the large office and Ian sat on the exam table. He forced a smile.
“It’s probably that Jersey boy’s cooking,” he said.
“After what you’ve eaten, I doubt it. Haggis? Seriously? Disgusting.”
“It’s good! Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Better than black pudding, anyway.”
She stepped closer and took out a small penlight. “Open wide and said ahh . . .” she said with a smile.
She looked in Ian’s throat, which did appear red. “Sore throat?”
“Yeah. Sinuses, too. Head as well. My guts are burnin’ up. Honestly, I feel like shit. How do ya get sick down here?”
“Mike probably didn’t wash his hands after he used the head . . . then cooked your food.”
“Oh, gee—thanks, Doc! I feel so much better.”
She laughed. “You probably caught a cold from one of the sailors on the tender. It can take a week to ten days sometimes to show up. I’m sure it’s no big deal. Let’s check your ears. Any issues there?” She looked into his ears, which also looked inflamed slightly. “Hmm. We better take your temperature.”
She took a digital temperature reading, which showed a 101.5-degree fever. “Yup. You got it good. You make any friends aboard the ship on our trip out?”
“Hey, Doc, I don’t kiss and tell!” He forced a smile.
“Seriously.”
“Just a little making out. You know—‘departing hero’ and all. ‘Might not make it back,’ ‘suicide mission’—it was a good line.”
“Oh that’s great, Ian. I guess I should check you for STDs now, too?”
He laughed. “Nah, I didn’t get that lucky. Just a good luck kiss.”
“How long that kiss last?”
He smiled and shrugged. “A few hours?”
“Ian!”
“We didn’t have sex.”
“Oral?”
“Doc, that’s a little personal, doncha think?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Ian, I need to know if this could be anything beyond a cold you shared with her.”
“You can’t get anything from that!” he protested.
“Says who? Jesus Christ, Ian. What are you, in high school? You can get pregnant standing up, too, you idiot! Now did you or did you not have oral sex?”
He turned red and shrugged an embarrassed “yes.”
“Okay, roll up your sleeve. I’m drawing blood.”
“Jesus, Doc. Can’t you just give me an antibiotic or something?”
“Yes, but it would help if I knew what I was treating. And you, sir, are confined to sickbay until you’re better. I don’t need an entire crew sick with your creepin’ crud.”
“She was a very nice girl,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She wiped the inside of his elbow with alcohol and drew some blood.
“Hey, Doc,” he said quietly.
“Yeah?”
“I really feel like shit. Like, worse than when I woke up.”
“Lay down and get some sleep. I’ll check back in a little bit.”
She looked back over her shoulder as she walked out, taking his blood to the lab. He was already fast asleep on her exam table.