He took it very well. He called up Major Guthrie. ‘Ian. Yes, sorry to disturb you. Can you meet me in Hawking, please? Quick as you can. Yes, there’s a problem. Thanks.’ Then, to me, ‘OK, well, let’s go over everything, shall we?
‘After you’d gone, Dieter and I, suitably clothed, ripped out and double-bagged everything. Nothing left the pod un-bagged. No one else was allowed in Hawking during this time. All clothing, ours, yours, the medical team’s, was bagged. The pod was hosed clean and sterilised. After we’d finished – we did it all again. All run-off was collected. Helen herself bagged all medical waste, and the theatre was sterilised twice after Kal had been patched up.’
I looked up as he finished. Ian Guthrie had materialised, looking grumpy in sweats. He nodded. ‘After it was all bagged up, the Chief and I transported it all downstairs. We fired up the incinerator to its highest temperatures and burned the whole lot. Any ashes or residue were riddled out and incinerated again. Anything left was double-bagged. A friend of mine has a boat on the coast. We took it out on Sunday. We tipped the ashes into the sea. We came back, hosed down the boat, returned to St Mary’s, showered, and burned our clothes. What did we miss?’
Put like that, what could they have missed? I looked at Kal and she shook her head stubbornly. ‘It’s here. I can feel it.’
Guthrie compressed his lips.
‘Hang on, Ian,’ said the Chief. ‘If anyone would know, it would be these two.’
Helen was uncharacteristically silent, apparently deep in thought. Suddenly, she said, ‘Come with me,’ and we all set off again, Helen in the lead and the rest of us trailing behind like a dirty comet tail. Our weird little procession trundled back along the corridors.
It hit me as we stepped out of the lift. I felt as though I’d walked into something dirty. Whatever it was, it was here. Kal shivered and dropped her head.
Helen led us past a startled Hunter into one of the little labs at the back of Sick Bay. She shut the door and moved towards one of the storage units.
‘All of you, keep back.’ We stayed by the door. Donning mask and gloves, she tapped in a code and opened a cabinet. I stepped back with a hiss and Kal flinched.
Very carefully, she placed a glass case on the table. Inside lay another, much smaller Petrie dish, its lid forced off by something growing inside. It was vile and looked like a cross between a cauliflower and a scab.
I grabbed Farrell’s arm for support as a wave of nausea rushed over me. We all stared in horror.
Helen said hoarsely, ‘I took a tiny, a minute sample of the fluid, just in case any of your wounds became infected. It was no more than a smear. Look how it’s grown!’ Even as we stared, it pulsed strangely. I shut my eyes and when I looked back, I thought it was larger. I stepped behind the Chief, where I wouldn’t have to see it.
‘Get rid of it,’ said Kal harshly, her voice rising. ‘Get rid of it now.’
‘All right,’ said Guthrie. ‘Try and stay calm.’ He looked at the Chief. ‘You and me, I think. I’ll carry. You clear a path and open doors.’
‘Agreed,’ said Farrell.
He turned to me and said meaningfully, ‘See you in ten minutes.’ I nodded again. Guthrie carefully picked up the glass case. Farrell opened the door. They set off and the door closed behind them.
Nobody moved. Kal sat quiet, her eyes closed. I stared at my feet. Minutes ticked by. Oppression overwhelmed me. Would this thing haunt me all the days of my life? I would never be rid of it. And one day, inevitably, it would find me. I could feel the old panic rising. Kal stirred in her chair and I knew she felt the same. My heart pounded. I felt sick.
I was almost at screaming point when, imperceptibly, it began to fade. My mood lightened. I lifted my head. It was that wonderful moment when you’ve been prepared for a prolonged and unpleasant session of projectile vomiting and then, without warning, it subsides and you suddenly fancy a bacon sandwich.
Kal grinned at me. I grinned at Helen. ‘It’s gone.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely. It’s gone. They’ve done it.’
Kal said, ‘It’s like Frodo at Mount Doom, isn’t it?’ She looked around. ‘I’m starving. Any chance of some pancakes? With ice cream and maple syrup?’
Helen nodded. ‘Oh, yes. Just like Frodo and Mount Doom. I remember now, the first thing he did was stuff his face.’
They hustled us off to bed. Kal got her pancakes.
I wandered into the bathroom, had a shower, and slowly dried myself. I took my time but when I emerged, there was no sign of Leon. Kal was sleeping like the dead. I looked at the clock. It had been nearly an hour and he’d said ten minutes. I dressed again, quietly, so as not to wake her and called him over my com. No response. I tried again. Still no reply. I called Hawking.
‘Hey Max, how you doing?’
‘Is the Chief with you, Polly?’
‘Not any more. He left ages ago. More than forty-five minutes. Have you lost him?’
‘Apparently. Do you know where he was headed?’
‘He was meeting you, he told me.’
‘OK, Poll. Thanks.’
Hunter was at the nurses’ station, reading.
I said, ‘Something’s wrong.’