The Fading Days

[Tachyon 0]

“The Fading Days”

November 21, 2155

Lieutenants Dave Grey and Jas McCellan

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J.S. Bach Neurology Hospital, Earth. 00:50 Hours, UTC.

 

Doctor Tratos sat at his desk in the small, cramped space that they called an office. To his left sat a half-eaten cheeseburger, its wrapper smeared with relish, the large bite marks leaving a jagged line around half the burger. To his right was a white pen balanced atop a thin silver PADD, on which a model of a synapse was outlined in stark detail.

 

The blue-white lighting of the hospital was supposed to be soothing, but Tratos found it annoying right now. It only emphasised how sterile the environment was. How humanity had chosen to avoid illness rather than combat it, how the proverbial primate had run rather than stood and fight, and how that decision’s consequences still affected people everyday. Prevention was indeed better than treatment . . . but it still had a price.

 

Patient 0097-XL-8233-GH, also known as Harriet Grey, had a unique neurological condition that affected a sliver of humanity’s population. Contracted after sustaining cranial trauma, it was deteriorating her brain tissue and nervous system, bit by bit, with an agonising patience. Putting in a coma had helped slow the deterioration, but not by much, because she still exhibited a lot of brain activity in this unconscious state, and the synapses continued to misfire with quickening precision. Tratos was not sure if it would even be possible to wake her from this state now.

 

He felt stumped. A scientist and doctor from a long, long line of scientists and doctors, with plans to continue that long, long line of scientists and doctors, Tratos did not like being beaten by a simple neurological condition. He relished a challenge—but not one that cost the life of a brilliant geologist. His heart also went out to the family, who were very distraught, and to that intriguing physician . . . what was her name . . . Jas McCellan, who seemed equally upset with Harriet’s situation.

 

Even though he was away from Earth, Dave Grey remained Harriet’s guardian. The Grey family on Earth insisted on this, for reasons Tratos only remotely fathomed, but that he gathered had to do with the fact that Harriet and Dave had been very close as siblings—they had shared a womb, after all. Now the family had dumped difficult decisions on the only member of the family who was light-years away.

 

Still, there existed a ray of hope. It was a miniscule, nearly non-existent trail that Tratos would not even consider following, if it were not the only option left open to them. It touched on treatments that might even be unethical. But how unethical was it to save someone’s life?

 

The doctor sighed and reached for the cheeseburger. With morose determination, he took a bite of the medley meal and then reached for the PADD to his right.

 

*****

 

Challenger, NX-05

 

Dave Grey’s head hurt. It pulsated with an ache that extended down into his lower back and threatened to paralyse his legs. His entire body felt taut and rigid, like he was a puppet being pulled up by the puppeteer in some sort of sick game. The feeling was jarring.

 

Grey sat cross-legged on the floor of his quarters, the lights turned off, the stars outside his window. His eyes were closed in silent meditation, and his mind clear of all thoughts. After years of meditating, he could easily slip into the trance-like state of mental clarity within a few moments.

 

This mental clarity shattered when the comm panel next to his door beeped. “Dave, it’s me. Do you have a moment?” Grey recognised Jas’ voice.

 

Grey sighed and opened his eyes. He was a bit miffed about being disturbed, but he could not just ignore her. He reached for a short and struggled awkwardly with it while stumbling to the door. With all the elegance of a sperm whale that had materialised into existence several thousand feet above the ground, he knocked the door button with his elbow and it swished open.

 

Jas stood there, her doe-like eyes widening with surprise as she saw Grey’s tall form half-stuck inside a shirt. From within the fabric, a muffled voice exclaimed, “Hey, there, uh . . . come in. I’ll be with you in a moment.” And then the giant disappeared, moving away from the door as its arms flailed about wildly.

 

Smiling awkwardly, Jas walked into his quarters, taking Grey’s decorating sense in with interest and tolerance. She had occasionally wondered about what Grey would put in his home. Jas put down the few PADDs in her arms onto Grey’s bed, and then gently tugged at the shirt’s collar, pulling it over his head. Grey’s brown hair, followed by his blue eyes and pronounced nose, appeared in succession. He finally managed to get his arms into the sleeves and then said, “Thanks.”

 

“Don’t mention it,” replied Jas, who pivoted quickly to hide the red creeping up her cheeks. She walked back over to the bed and retrieved the PADDs.

 

“What do you need?”

 

Jas held up a PADD. On it was a labelled model of a synapse in stark detail. “I think I might be on to something. It’s small, insanely so, but just maybe. . . .” She handed the PADD to Grey and patiently explained the more esoteric medical terms to him.

 

This time it was Grey’s eyes which widened.