Scarecrow burst through the hatch to sick bay and charged up the passageway to one of the trauma bays. Before he could enter, he was confronted by a pair of Cooper’s Marines, standing guard at the door.
“You can’t come in, Sir,” one of the Marines said. “Medical personnel only.”
“Let him enter, Corporal!” from the depths of the trauma bay, the CMO shouted over his shoulder. “That’s an order. I summoned him.”
The Marines parted and gave way for Scarecrow to enter. He glowered at them before rushing over to his fiancé.
She was lying on an examination table, surrounded by corpsmen. Two small scanner-drones in the shape of orbs were fliting around her, flashing a blue light over her bruised and beaten body. A large ring encompassed Cooper and the table, moving slowly from head to foot. Scarecrow could see no means of support or locomotion–no boom arm held it–the ring appeared to be floating free in the air. The doctor was off to one side standing in front of a life-sized ARI image of Cooper’s upper body, revealing her internal structure. Muscles, bones and organs could all be seen. He had a tablet in hand, manipulating the data. The ARI was produced by the ring and scanners darting around Cooper’s head and torso. The doctor’s face was grave as he studied the display.
Two corpsmen were preparing instruments in a corner while a third was washing blood off the front of Cooper’s body. She lay still, her head turned away as Scarecrow approached. He came up on her right side, and didn’t see the extent of her injuries until he stopped and stood on the left side of the examination bed. She looked up at him as he let out an audible gasp.
“Oh! Sandy!”
In a moment of time, Scarecrow’s face morphed from shock to compassion, to anger, to rage. His fists clenched to the point where the skin stretched across his whitened knuckles threatened to split. Every muscle in his body tensed and his face darkened with a fury that Cooper had never seen before, and it unnerved her. She felt at that moment, her fiancé might be capable of just about anything.
“Who–did–this?” His words were forceful. Dripping with malice.
“Don’t try to make the Major talk right now, Commander,” the doctor said, his eyes glued to the ghostly, ARI image. “Her jaw is badly dislocated.”
Scarecrow stood and stared for a moment, surveying Cooper’s injuries. The entire left side of her body was bruised from the waist up. With the exception of her underwear, the medical team had removed her clothing to examine her, but she had a sheet draped across her lap for modesty’s sake.
The left side of her head was swollen. Her left eye was enflamed shut and her right eye was bloodshot, her once beautiful, verdigris iris now awash in crimson. Cooper’s lower lip, badly split, looked like a huge, cerise sausage, unceremoniously sliced in the center. Her once gorgeous blonde hair was now blood-soaked and matted to her head. She stared up at Scarecrow with her good eye, a look of sadness and concern on her face, worried that her fiancé had to see her in such condition.
“How bad–?” he almost couldn’t speak for the fury welling up inside him.
“Pretty bad, Commander,” the doctor replied. “It was difficult, but she told me she was assaulted in the women’s head by three transfer Marines. One had her arms pinned behind her while he was holding his hand over her mouth, but she managed to bite it. He released her and pushed her to the deck, where he proceeded to kick her several times, the last time in the head. That’s what caused this–” He motioned to her left side. “She has four fractured ribs, and you can see the contusion as the result of having been kicked brutally in the side. Her left humerus is also fractured, and she has a blow-out fracture of her left eye. And then there’s her jaw, which is dislocated and will have to be reset. We need to get her into the regeneration pod as soon as possible, but I need to finish examining her before we can do that. I want to make sure her spleen isn’t ruptured, and rule out any other internal organ damage. I’m hoping I won’t have to perform emergency surgery before I can place her in the pod.”
“Did they–?”
“No, they didn’t manage to get that far in their assault,” the doctor said. “Thankfully, I won’t have to perform a rape kit.”
“Who, Doctor? And where are they?”
The doctor motioned to Stacey as he spoke, who was maintaining a timid posture in the corner. Her face was wet with tears, red streaks cutting vertical lines downward across an expression of deep concern, dragging her mascara with them. Scarecrow hadn’t noticed his SO until the doctor motioned to her.
“I heard her scream in the women’s head, Commander,” she replied with a quiver in her voice. “I ran and got the first sergeant before they–”
Scarecrow was struggling to control his fury.
“Easy, Commander,” the doctor said. He paused the scanners and leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “You need to reign in your rage, Steve.”
“I’m … trying.”
“I know. I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now. You two are supposed to be married in a couple of weeks, and something like this happens?”
Scarecrow released a long, cleansing breath. He looked at the CMO and nodded.
Cooper reached out and grasped Scarecrow’s hand in hers as she looked up at him with her good eye. A single tear coursed down her right cheek. Scarecrow cast Sandy a dejected smile and squeezed her hand gently, nodding as he did. She attempted to return his smile, but her lower lip protested and it only increased her pain, causing her to wince. Scarecrow’s eyes welled up, and he was forced to look away.
Anger. Frustration. Guilt … overwhelming guilt. As their relationship blossomed, he and Sandy had been working through their grief together. Decades of struggle were now being dismantled in both their lives. Scarecrow’s ongoing sessions with the chaplain were bearing fruit, alleviating his feelings about Samantha’s abduction and the terrible act he’d committed that day. Sandy was letting go of the pain of losing Jimmy Saunders, and Scarecrow was finally coming to terms with his guilt over Chrissy’s own assault and suicide. It was working. They were a balm to each other, and mutual healing had begun.
Now this.
The moment he looked at Sandy–looked at her lying on that sick bay bed, battered and bleeding, all of the emotions that had begun to melt away over the last months came crashing down upon him. It was a repeat of the day he stormed into Chrissy’s hospital room so many years before. All of the progress he’d made shattered like a brick wall whose mortar was improperly applied, toppling due to weak structural integrity. The flood was overwhelming–so much so that he had difficulty breathing.
All he could think of was that rainy afternoon he visited Chrissy’s grave in Maine months after her funeral, the cemetery empty except for his presence. He stood in silence, clutching a bouquet of flowers drenched from the torrent, his crisp new Air Force uniform just as sodden. While the rain hid his tears, he stood staring down at her final resting place, whispering how sorry he was he’d failed her. Only now, in his mind’s eye, it wasn’t Chrissy’s name on the gravestone …
It was Sandy’s.
He turned back to the doctor.
“Where are they, Doc? Please tell me they’re in custody.”
“No, they’re not exactly in custody. They’re in the three trauma bays across the hall. I regret to say it appears her first sergeant and his platoon may have administered some justice of their own. The first one is in a medically-induced coma. The second is being prepped for surgery as we speak, and the third, the ring-leader, probably won’t make it through the night. All of their tablets are missing, so we don’t have access to their DNA profiles in order to use the regeneration pods on them. The first sergeant and several members of his platoon are in the brig, pending a full investigation.”
As the CMO finished, Rear Admiral Reynolds and the CAG burst through the hatch and approached them as Cooper clawed at the sheet with her good arm in an attempt to cover herself. It was only then Scarecrow noticed her swollen and bleeding knuckles. It was obvious she had given as good as she received.
“We came as soon as we heard, buddy!” Hutch gasped as he stared at Cooper and then turned away, covering his mouth. Reynolds was in shock and simply stared, his jaw slack. It was several seconds before he could speak.
“Never, in the darkest recesses of my most horrific nightmares, did I ever imagine–even dare to believe–that something like this could take place aboard my ship … On my ship!” It took him a moment to recover. “Report, doctor!” he ordered.
The doctor recounted what he had shared with Scarecrow regarding Cooper’s injuries. “They were three of the transfer Marines, Admiral,” the doctor said. “Not any of Nautilus’ crew, so you can take some small comfort in that at least. However, you’ll have to deal with the major’s own Marines. It appears they’ve taken matters into their own hands, the fruits of which are across the hall right now, fighting for their lives. This is a messy situation, in more ways than one, Sir.”
Reynolds motioned to his pilots to follow him to one side of the room to give Cooper some privacy. “Steve,” he said, “I’m speechless.”
“I don’t know if I can deal with this,” Scarecrow’s voice quivered as he spoke. “This is Chrissy all over again.”
“We’re here for you. You and Sandy are family–we won’t let this become a repeat of that tragedy. We’ll do whatever it takes to avoid it.”
“Then you can start by ordering the release of the first sergeant and his men,” Scarecrow said. “Security has them locked in the brig. As the doc mentioned, they allegedly worked Cooper’s attackers over pretty good.”
“Ha-ha, bully for them!” Hutch replied. “I say we keel-haul the three little reprobates, eh Admiral? Or I could rig up a cat o’ nine-tails! Let’s flog ‘em!”
Scarecrow grinned at Hutch’s suggestion.
“Hutch, you know I can’t just step in. There are procedures to follow. Protocol. And if we don’t follow it to the letter, Sandy’s attackers could go free.”
“Over my dead body.” Scarecrow stared at Reynolds, his tone resolute.
“That’s why we have to handle this properly. To make sure that doesn’t happen. Let me speak to the first sergeant myse–”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No.” Reynolds placed his hand on Scarecrow’s shoulder. “The best thing you can do right now is stay here with Sandy. She needs your support. Hutch and I will talk to her Marines, and then I’m going to speak with the attacker’s CO and find out what he knows about them–if they’ve attempted something like this before. We’ll get to the bottom of this for you, but you need to stay here. Go, my friend. Go be with Sandy.”
“He’s right,” Hutch said. “We’ll handle this for you.” He flashed Scarecrow a reassuring glance.
The commander sighed in agreement and shook their hands. “Thank you, gentlemen. I mean it. From the bottom of my heart. I never had any support when Chrissy was assaulted. Her family would have nothing to do with me. But I’m glad I have you two to lean on.”
The senior officers nodded with assurance and departed as Scarecrow walked over to MacPherson and smiled. “Thank you for rescuing her.” The candor in his voice was evident.
“I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, Sir,” Stacey replied. She tried to say something else, but instead reached for her pilot and buried her face in his chest, weeping as she did. Scarecrow held her for some time while her emotions flooded out. The entire experience had been just as traumatic for her. The young ginger finally pulled away and motioned that she would be alright.
“Go get some rest,” Scarecrow said. MacPherson nodded as she went to wipe her nose with the back of her hand, then thought better of it. Scarecrow pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. He took her by the arm and walked over to the door where the two Marines were still at their posts.
“Corporal, I need a favor.”
“Name it, Sir.”
“Can one of you escort the lieutenant to her quarters? I don’t want a repeat performance with all these transfer Marines lurking about.”
“Aye, Sir.” The corporal turned and saluted Scarecrow, then motioned to the hatch. “Ma’am?”
As she ducked through the hatch, MacPherson glanced back at Scarecrow, casting him a wan smile. She and the corporal walked down the passageway and out the hatch from sick bay. Scarecrow patted the other Marine on the shoulder and returned to Cooper’s side.
“So, how does this regeneration thing work, anyhow, Doc?”
“In a word, it speeds up the healing process, but it actually does much more. When everyone reports onboard for duty for the first time, they undergo a physical exam, including a complete genome mapping. You had one when you were first brought aboard. We then use that data as a baseline. While you’re in the pod, it uses the DNA information to reconstruct any injuries. It not only speeds up the healing process, but it repairs any damage and returns it to its original condition based on the DNA baseline we keep in a medical database at a secure location on Earth. We access it via signal non-locality.”
“You mentioned you don’t have access to the DNA profiles of Sandy’s attackers? Why not?”
“This technology is a tremendous force for good. But it also has a down-side. A terrible one.” Scarecrow frowned, puzzled. The doctor continued. “If someone were to gain unauthorized access to a person’s DNA, they could manipulate it, so instead of the regeneration pod healing them, it could distort them in hideous ways. That person could exit the pod with every nerve registering incredible, unending pain, making their body their own personal torture chamber. It could even be programmed to produce a chimera. Do you know what a ‘hash function’ is?”
“Yeah.”
“In our medical database, every DNA file is encrypted. We install a marker within the patient’s DNA itself that acts as a passcode. The hash function is incorporated into a file on their tablet, and when we need to access their DNA profile, the hash function acts as the decryption key. When the hash function is applied to the marker in their DNA, it unlocks the file. If you recall from your training, our quantum computing systems allow us to download the file instantly from any asset regardless of its location anywhere in the universe. We then enter it into the regeneration pod’s system. Once the regeneration cycle is complete, the pod wipes the DNA data from its system. That way, no one can misuse the system, or manipulate a patient’s DNA.
“Since we can’t find the three Marine’s tablets, we don’t have access to the hash function files to decrypt and provide us access to their DNA profiles.”
“Don’t you have an emergency override, or something?”
“No. We can’t risk someone playing ‘Doctor Frankenstein’ by doing an end-run around the security we have in place.”
“What can you do, then?”
“Rely on more traditional healing methods, and pray they recover.”
“Sandy will be alright though, won’t she?”
“Yes. In 24 hours, Major Cooper will be back to normal. One hundred percent. You won’t be able to tell she was ever injured at all. It will be like it never happened.”
“Physically, at least.” Scarecrow stared at the CMO. The doctor sighed and nodded.
As they spoke, Cooper was being helped onto an anti-grav gurney to be taken to the regeneration pod room. A plate on top of the examination table levitated, and two corpsmen pushed it over to rest on the gurney. Thus Cooper was spared the pain of being manhandled from one platform to the other.
“We have to reset the Major’s jaw before we can put her into the pod, and trust me, you don’t want to be here when we do that. You can wait out in the passageway if you wish.”
“I’m not leaving her. Do what you need to do.”
“It’ll be more painful for you than it will be for her.”
“Just do it.”
The CMO was right. Scarecrow wished he’d taken the senior physician’s advice and waited outside. He winced as he heard the sickening crack and saw the pain etched across Cooper’s face as the doctor held her lower mandible in both hands and with a violent motion, wrenched it to one side.
She sobbed for some time, even though the doctor had given her pain meds, and then a sedative before they transferred her to another bay where a bank of large, white, oblong tubes were waiting for them. A corpsman opened the lid of one, and Cooper was placed naked into the pod. She was already unconscious when they covered her entire body including her head, with a wispy, transparent cloth that shimmered with a rainbow of colors and reminded Scarecrow of gossamer.
The medical team sealed the pod as the doctor sat at a console and brought up Cooper’s vital information. He programmed the system and started the procedure. The pod appeared to self-illuminate, both inside and out, as a nurse brought Scarecrow a chair, which she placed beside the pod. She offered a sad smile and motioned for him to sit. Before she left, she handed him Cooper’s dog tags, a pair of earrings … and her engagement ring.
“She can’t wear these in there, Sir.”
There was a small viewing port at Cooper’s head so Scarecrow could observe her. He thanked the nurse, and everyone exited the room as he sat down to begin his vigil. The doctor lowered the lights as he nodded in silence at Scarecrow. Then he left the room.
Scarecrow stared down at Cooper’s dog tags, earrings and ring as he held them in his hand. They were caked with blood. Scarecrow leaned over to behold her beaten, swollen face through the clear glass viewing port of the regeneration pod as she lay silent.
Without warning, the XO, Commander Donald Franks entered the pod room and placed his hand on Scarecrow’s shoulder. Scarecrow jerked as he turned to see who it was.
“I know this must be difficult for you,” he said with concern. “It’s pretty much a replay of what happened to Chrissy.”
“Not quite. I didn’t cause this one.”
“Nobody blames you for Chrissy’s assault, except yourself.” He offered a reassuring smile. “Not even me. Not anymore.”
“Thanks for that, Don.”
“If there’s anything I can do, just name it.”
“I will. Thank you.” Scarecrow stood and held out his hand. As they shook, Franks clutched Scarecrow’s elbow with his left hand and nodded, his lips tight. He turned and left Scarecrow alone with Sandy.
Scarecrow had to believe the doctor was correct. That Sandy was in this tube to be healed, and that in 24 hours she would emerge whole and complete. The logical, rational side of his brain accepted that. But the emotional, primal side of his brain tormented him, tortured him. All he could see was his fiancé lying in her coffin. Just like Chrissy. He threw his arms across the pod and laid his head on the glass of the viewing port while a tear splashed onto the clear surface.