Джон Болл - Phase Three Alert

Thorlund straightened up to translate it. “Doctor, she says that she understands. She knows about the dog bite disease and despite what I explained to her, as you said, she accepts that she is going to die.”

Markley clamped his teeth hard together. “Tell her that isn’t so, God willing. Not if I can help it.”

For a moment the protracted tension he had been under, and the extreme gravity of the situation he now faced, very nearly got to him. He hung on by the force of his will augmented by the full knowledge of the responsibility that he would now have to assume. Then the strength of his temperament and the discipline of his profession restored him and he was ready to do battle. He did not even hear the subdued PA system when it came on, and the announcement of Phase Alert was blocked out of his brain.

On the posting board at Thule Operations the Twin Otter was shown inbound with the tail number, the pilot’s name, and the estimated time of arrival. The ETA was an intelligent guess that would be corrected with the swipe of an eraser as soon as the aircraft made its first contact and reported. In the remarks column, MEDICAL EMERGENCY was lettered in colored chalk. Everyone knew that already, but the Thule Ops people did things right and according to the book.

When the Phase Alert was called, Operations immediately got in touch with Sondrestrom and asked for a report from there. It was not encouraging: another storm was moving in and conditions were deteriorating rapidly. Sondrestrom Operations promised to advise Thule at once of any changes. Thule also asked for immediate reports on any contacts made with the Twin Otter.

As soon as that call had been completed, the duty NCOIC called Major Eastcott and advised him of the circumstances. The operations officer asked to be kept up to date on a minute-by-minute basis. Then he called and got a status report on the C-130. It was just out of a periodic inspection, fully operational, and ready to go.

His next call was to Det. 4, where he talked with Major Mulder for several minutes. The two field-grade officers agreed completely on the developing situation: the Twin Otter was a very rugged bird, the pilot was widely known as an Arctic expert, and there was no reason for undue concern.

Eastcott called Weather and got the latest word from there. Nothing new had come in within the past twenty minutes and the Phase Alert stood. Meanwhile, Base Operations notified the tower and then called the hospital.

One of the nurses took the call. She advised that both doctors were unavailable and that the dental surgeon was tied up with a patient. Operations asked that the physicians be notified, when possible, that a weather situation had developed. Word from the Twin Otter was expected shortly — as soon as it came in, the information would be passed along.

While this was going on, Dr. Markley was fully engaged with his patient — he didn’t have a minute for anything else. When he, Bowditch, and the nurses had her ready, the internist took the syringe of curare and, turning the little girl over, he made a careful, expert injection into the upper right quadrant of her right buttock. As soon as he had done that he turned the child back over and then smiled at her to give her the confidence she would so desperately need to have within the next few minutes. He spoke to Thorlund, who, in turn, translated his words for Bebiane. Through the Dane he told her that she would feel her body begin to become stiff, that she would not be able to use her muscles, and then very soon she would find that she was falling asleep. He hoped to Almighty God that this last statement was true, because if she remained conscious she might be confronted by stark terror. He had already resolved that if he detected any evidence of consciousness in her, he would put her under and keep her there. When Bebiane slowly nodded that she understood, Debra bent over and fitted the respirator hose over her face. After that had been done, the girl looked up with frightened eyes. Markley countered that by laying his strong hand on top of hers to loan her some of his courage and understanding. He continued to offer his comfort until the powerful drug began to take hold. Then he withdrew and let the nurses carry on.

He stepped out into the corridor and motioned Thorlund to follow him. “Karsten,” he said, “thank you for all you’ve done. You can take it easy now, for a while. During the time that she’s immoblized she won’t be able to speak and probably she won’t be able to hear either.”

“I heard you say curare, doctor — is that not a poison?”

Markley nodded. “Yes, it’s the same stuff they use on arrows in South America. But it has a very important medical use — it can paralyze a person so that he cannot make the slightest movement. That is what I have just done to her. By keeping her totally still, it stops the spasms and prevents the disease from literally tearing her apart. If we are very lucky, the disease may burn itself out. If that happens, she can recover.”

“For how long must she lie so still?”

“Possibly two weeks — or three.”

“Can she endure that?”

Markley hesitated to answer the question despite the fact that it was a reasonable one. But it was sure to arise again. “I think so. Essentially the same technique has saved patients with tetanus, and the spasms produced by that disease are unendurable. Most of the time she should be unconscious, which will help immensely. The only alternative, according to present knowledge, is to let her die.”

Thorlund nodded slowly. “Then I say that you have done the right thing. I go now to pray for her.”

“We all will,” Markley said. He went back to his desk, knowing beyond any question that he had taken the only step that he possibly could, but he would nevertheless worry every minute until his little patient had been put on the Bennett and it had taken over the essential job of respirating her body. The small portable machine that was already at work would be able to do the job for a little while, but it had been designed for short use only and its capability was limited to a few hours.

He could safely go and get his interrupted lunch now, but he had lost his appetite. Bowditch was looking at him. “I prescribe some medicinal spirits,” the surgeon said.

“I’ll think about it,” Markley answered.

Frank Tilton, the Information Officer, was keeping up to date on everything, which was his job. Consequently, he happened to be the one who put a call in to Weather just in time to receive a considerable jolt. Angelo, the forecaster, spoke to him only briefly; he was intensely busy. “It looked all right until above five minutes ago,” he said. “New data has come in and I’m drawing a fresh map right now.”

“Which means what?”

“We have a strong storm inbound; it came out of nowhere and it’s gaining rapidly. We’ll probably have a Phase One shortly.”

“Can a Twin Otter fly through that?”

“Probably, if it doesn’t get any worse. No guarantees right now on anything. That’s it. Good-bye.”

Tilton hung up, crossed the hallway, and asked to see the colonel. Seconds later he was in the commander’s office, where he passed on the fresh information he had just been given. Colonel Kleckner listened and then immediately called Det. 4. “It’s a new ball game,” he said. “There’s an inbound storm that’s picking up speed and it could be severe. Sondrestrom is also in bad shape. I suggest that you put your unit on alert status, just in case.”

“Yes, sir — immediately.”

“Thank you.” The colonel hung up. “Get me Mike Kane,” he directed. The Transportation Officer answered that summons promptly and stood waiting for orders. “Has transportation been laid on for the incoming medical people and their equipment?” Kleckner asked.