Quarantine

"Primum non nocere"

---

My quarantine began at the point of extraction from the Umbrella research and development facility.




My clothing was removed, my equipment was taken and logged, and I was placed in secure containment. Testing started immediately for exposure to known pathogens and to establish a baseline.



I was transported to a sealed wing of a hospital on _________, where I was subjected to an exhausting series of examinations.




What was perplexing was the interest taken by the senior medical staff in the wounds I had obtained during my fight in early July with the spice mutant. Certainly I had exacerbated the injuries to my ribs through my exertions on my last mission. Their clinical interest seemed to extend beyond that.

So, under constant observation, and keenly aware that the armed guards at my door were not there for my protection, I settled in as best as I could for the duration, confident that the data I gathered from the Umbrella files and systems would yield actionable results and would be worth the inconvenience of medical isolation.



---

September 30

The sun poured into my hospital room, as it had done every day for the past eight weeks. Shadows from the furniture traced a path upon the floor from west to east like imperfect sundials. The shadows were growing longer. The days were growing shorter.

Outside of my window, the leaves of the trees had started to turn colour. The sugar maple and the trembling aspen. Soon, the mighty oak would follow and with the ensuing riot of colour we would have our proof that the autumn had arrived.

This is how I marked the changing of the season.

---

"Major?

It was Captain Manda Soldi Westminster, dressing in her white nurse’s habit but with the additional protection of a UAP standard issue flak jacket, a breather mask and regulation stun gun.



"Well, hello Captain," I said, putting aside my book, "nice to see a friendly face."



"I looked in on you a few times," she replied, "but you were probably unaware. Good to see you upright." She added, "Let me look at your chart a moment."

The Captain slowly reached over for my chart. She made no furtive movements, nothing that would startle or alarm.

"Yes, well," I said calmly, "just observation."

"See? Your chart," she said as if I might interpret her movements as hostile and become enraged. She glanced at the document. "It says most of your injuries are healed, but the ribs are going to be sore for a while."

I smiled patiently, "So I believe."

"Duty with minimal chance of physical confrontation for a short while," she ordered. "These tests look good. Let me take off this vest." She slipped her stungun into her bag, and began to unbuckle her body armour.

"I suspect they were more concerned I would develop a taste for brains," I remarked.

"There are tests for that now." She cleared her throat. "By UAP medical protocols, I am required to speak to you in a condescending tone now.  'What did we learn about confronting spice mutants?' That was the obligatory condescending tone, supposedly patronizing."



"And well done too," I added.

"You should see the protocols if you came here for reproductive counseling," she added. “Tell me about the nature of your confrontation with the spice mutant. Did it touch you?"

"It chased me," I said. "I attacked it with a knife. It had a gun, which was unexpected."

"Did its blood or saliva touch you?" she asked pointedly.

"Not that I am aware of," I replied.

"I don't have a voucher chain for the knife," she said. "Do you know if it was quarantined?"

My knife? I couldn't remember. Didn't I drop it in Wadi Emet?

"I was retrieved by Monitor," I said, "put into medical stasis and shipped from Araxes."

"We are not broadcasting in or out of Araxes," said the Captain, "so I can't inquire until my return. I will have to check with him. Your weapons, uniform and gear were quarantined from the Hive mission."

"Yes, I believe that is correct."



The Hive is the name by which Umbrella employees, and former employees, referred to the research and development facility I recently visited.

Captain Westminster continued, "When I return to Araxes, I will find out about the knife and your other gear. Spice mutants can be problematic."

"He had been a miner..." I said. "I found a card on his body."

Somebody's child.

"Normally spice is not dangerous," explained the Captain, "but in massive doses, the body's systems react radically."

"I would like to see that research," I interrupted.

She continued, "We were concerned that possibly that reactivity was passed to you and possibly interacted with unknown materials at the Hive."

"Send a copy to my office," I added, climbing off the bed. The tile felt cool under my bare feet.

"It is within your clearance I am sure," she replied. "Let me close the door to the ward."



She marched across my room, and secured the door before returning to the foot of my bed.

"The original Audrey was Patient Zero in that research," she began.

"Go on," I urged.

"She is by no means the first spice mutant, but she is the first spice mutant we have clinical studies on. Most spice mutant like the one you ran into in Araxes are usually the result of massive infusion of raw spice."

"And we have these clinical files," I said.

"We have some of them," she replied, "retrieved from Angels of Mercy."

I nodded.

"We believe Umbrella has some also," she added. "We have not yet determined where they conduct that research."

"You worked for Umbrella," I said. It was not a question.

"I have been embedded since Med school," she admitted.

"Tell me about that."

"The Colonel cleared me to speak freely," she said.

I waited for her to continue.



"I knew Mercedes since University," she said, "She is a bit younger than me, but was quite advanced. Married a prominent professor right after graduation.  He recommended me for an internship at Umbrella. I had already been recruited into the UAP. They recommended I go forward with it."

"Mercedes' husband," I repeated.

"Yes," answered the Captain, "Professor Celestalis. He passed on some years ago."

"And so you took the internship..."

"Yes," she replied, "nothing special at first. Standard research internship. Long hours, tedious work."

"Researching what?" I asked.

"It was nothing secure at the time. Later, I completed my residency at a UAP hospital and continued on in UAP service. But I was occasionally invited to conferences, and with authorization have traded information to Umbrella, and received intel, which led to my assignment to Special Projects full time, and being lent to you with the SIU."

"So you have been playing an interesting role when it comes to Umbrella," I observed. "Tell me, what were the topics of these conferences?"

"Mostly immunology and geriatrics. Organ cloning."

"And your original work for them," I asked, "the unsecured research...  Tell me more."

"Prions and protozoans."

I frowned a little.

The Captain explained, "Prions like what spreads Mad Cow Disease and protozoans like what causes Malaria."

I nodded slowly.

"Same as thousands of grad students," she added, "Nothing cutting edge."

"Of course," I allowed, "but I want to know every little thing. Things you may not think of as important."



"Most of my assignments at the conferences is to see who talks to who. Modern medicine is still struggling with how to deal with prion and protozoan related diseases. You can't make a vaccine for them. Despite the health issues related to them, because they are not good candidates for weaponizing, not much research has been done on them. They consider them problems for poor people."

I considered her reply. Weighing the choice of words, turning the phrases over in my mind. "When do I get out of here, Doctor?" I asked finally.

"You can get out of here today," she said, "if you take rest leave for at least five days and return for a checkup."



"Fine," I agreed.  "I am sure the nurses will be pleased. I am not an ideal patient."

"They have been careful not to say."

"Thank you Doctor," I replied.

Manda continued, "We ran nano cams thru your blood, no sign of the kinds of nanites like we found in Audrey. We would like to do so again in five days, just to be safe." She then added, "There is one other thing.  We would like you to keep a dream diary."

"A dream diary?" I asked nonplussed.

"Set an alarm to wake you up about 20 minutes early," she said, "and write down what dreams you were having. Go back to sleep and see if you get another. Just write down whatever you can remember. If you have difficulty with that, we can provide you with a machine that will wake you toward the end of the dream, but it is better if you can do it yourself."

"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked suddenly skeptical.

"The theory is that if something is affecting your mind, the first signs would show up in your dreams. It also has therapeutic value."

"I see...."



But I did not see. I did not understand why this was necessary.

"If you consider it awkward," she continued, "you can consult with someone else besides me. You would be the first to recognize if something is out of place in your own subconscious. It is best if you keep the journal for your own use. After a while, you will probably not have to wake yourself to remember your dreams. We have been concerned about such things since Commander Faith."

I did not answer at first. Finally, I said, "Well, it will be good to sleep in my own bed, dreams aside."

"You have civilian street clothes to wear?" asked Manda.

"Yes." I pointed to the drawer beside my bed.

"You can be discharged as soon as you can collect your things and yourself. We will probably have the labwork back on the Hive samples by the time you return to duty."

"Good," I said firmly.

"It is a troubling sign," she added.

"Troubling?"

"Identification is key in the response to biowarfare," she explained. "Biological agents that require a lot of time to identify reduces containment."

Slowly, thoughtfully, I begin to gather my things.