The Search for Cleo Page 6

  His statement was interrupted by a voice speaking over the intercom.

  “Doctor Dassmock please report to the emergency room immediately,” it said.

  “That's not good...” Morgan began.

  “Doctor Dassmock,” it repeated, “please report to the emergency room immediately.”

  “Why would they call you into the ER? You just got here.”

  “I suppose we'll have to ask Cleo when we get back the ship,” Doc replied, turning back toward the elevator.

  “Where are you going?” the young man asked.

  “The emergency room,” Doc replied. “Someone needs my help, Morgan.”

  “What if they're supposed to die?” Morgan asked.

  “Then their future just changed,” was Doc's simple reply.

  “Saving them might create a paradox.”

  “I'm sure Rob would have considered that possibility before he sent us in.”

  “Are you?” Morgan asked incredulously.

  Doc paused for a moment, before resuming his march.

  “I suppose I can't be positive, however...”

  “Doc,” Robert's voice interrupted quietly from the communicator, “Cleo just checked, and no one other than Emily dies in this hospital tonight. Just hurry.”

  “Let me hold that,” Morgan said, taking the communicator from Doc. “How did know what was going on, Rob?”

  “I heard Doc paged over the intercom and I figured the rest out,” Robert replied softly. “Now get off the comm, you idiot.”

  The idiot got off the comm. Just minutes later, Doc and Morgan stepped into the emergency room. A young woman, dressed in red, quickly approached the pair.

  “Doctor Dassmock?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Doc nodded. “How can I be of help?”

  “A young man was just brought in,” she said. “Apparently, he fell out of a Sky Skimmer from close to fifty feet. Those things should be outlawed,” she continued, shaking her head. “Of course, he's rather intoxicated, which is probably what led to the accident.”

  “How bad is it?” Doc asked.

  “It looks bad,” she replied.

  “Lead the way.”

  She immediately turned on her heal and began guiding them toward the unfortunate young Rouladenian's room.

  “Thank God you were here,” she said, glancing over her shoulder. “It's been a really busy night and two of our doctors have called in sick. There's some kind of stomach thing going around that's just awful. You haven't been working for the hospital long, have you?”

  “Not long at all,” Doc replied.

  The young lady continued to converse until they reached the right room. The moment Morgan laid eyes on the patient, he concluded that she had been right: it did look bad. In fact, it looked like something out of a horror movie. The unfortunate young Rouladenian had several very compound fractures in his legs. As Morgan stood trying to figure out just how much of what he was seeing was bone, darkness began to creep in on the edges of his vision.

  “We've got him heavily sedated,” the nurse explained. “As you can imagine...”

  As more and more of Morgan's sight was filled with darkness, his ears began to be filled with ringing. The next thing he was aware of was the lovely young lady gently slapping him in the face.

  “Are you alright?” she asked, gazing at him with concern in her crystal blue eyes.

  “I'm fine,” he replied, shaking his head. “It must have been something I ate. Or I may be coming down with that stomach thing.”

  “You may be,” she smiled. “I'm sure it would take more than a little blood to make you hit the floor like that.”

  “Obviously,” he chuckled, doing his best to stop his head from spinning. “I wouldn't be much of a doctor's assistant if I passed out when I saw things like that.”

  “Not at all,” she laughed softly.

  Morgan climbed to his feet, refusing to look at the patient as he braced himself. Whatever he did, he couldn't pass out again. That might raise questions, questions they didn't want to have to answer. He was going to have to look. In fact, he was going to have to help. The problem was that he wasn't sure how to psych himself up for it.

  As he was taking deep breaths through his nose, it hit him. This was never going to happen. Once they were done, he'd have never even been here. Some other poor sucker would have to be the one to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. That being the case; this was just like a video game. It was the most vivid virtual reality surgery game ever made. But, it wasn't real.

  Focusing on this thought, Morgan once again turned his eyes to the broken body of the patient. For several seconds, he felt his stomach churn and began feeling dizzy again. This passed, however, leaving him not only able to watch the proceedings, but actually able to help. This mainly consisted of handing Doc things he asked for, but it was a great deal better than him lying on the floor unconscious.

  “You did very well,” Doc said with a smile as the two washed up.

  “I'm glad,” Morgan replied. “Next time – if there is a next time (and I sincerely hope there isn't) – I'll be more mentally prepared for it.”

  “I'm sure you will be.”

  For the next hour-and-a-half, the pair failed to escape the emergency room. The nurse had been right, it was a busy night. Most of the injures they had to attend to were minor and didn't make Morgan feel at all lightheaded. However, their last patient had a giant fishhook stuck through his cheek. This might have made the young man pass out again, had the patient not been in such a good humor about it and the story of how it got there so amusing.

  Just moments after this had been attended to, they managed to get away. In less than twenty minutes, they had reached Miss Marrison's room, checked her chart, chatted with her a bit, scanned her brain, collected a blood cell, and left the hospital. They got back to the ship to find the rest of the crew ready and waiting on them.

  “Computer,” Morgan said forcefully.

  “Yes, lover boy?” the computer asked.

  “Lover boy?” Azure chuckled. “What is wrong with this thing, Rob?”

  “Take us to Never Never Land,” the young man ordered.

  “Second star to the right,” the computer replied, as the ship jumped into non-space, “and straight on 'till morning. Also, there's nothing wrong with me, sweetheart.”

  “Sweetheart?” Azure repeated. “Rob, that cannot be normal.”

  “No,” he agreed, shaking his head. “Funny, though.”

  “That's not all that's funny,” Cleo asserted with a mischievous grin, as she began pushing buttons on the console. “Look at what Vox managed to catch on the security cameras.”

  Just over a second later, an image of Doc and Morgan filled one of the monitors. Although what video-Morgan seemed to be staring at was obscured, it was clear that his eyes were riveted to whatever it was. He began to sway slowly from side to side before suddenly collapsing to the floor.

  “That is hilarious,” Robert laughed, as the rest of his companions – with the exception of Azure and Celeste – joined in. “I can't believe you passed out, man.”

  “Dude,” Morgan said quite seriously, “it looked like something out of a horror movie.”

  “Maybe,” the traveler said, once again laughing heartily, “but, I don't think I'd have hit the floor like that.”

  “I’m glad you find it amusing,” Cleo said before gently biting her lower lip and pressing more buttons. “You may think this is, as well.”

  Instantly, the image of Morgan lying on the floor was replaced by one of Robert climbing up a ladder in the cargo bay.

  “Where did you get this?” the traveler asked, the smile disappearing from his face. “I del... I mean; the cameras malfunctioned.”

  As he made this assertion, the video version of himself lifted a small cylinder to the door frame. As he did so, it seemed to explode in a blossom of gray mist. The entire crew – with the exception of its captain – roared with laughter as video Robert was g
iven a beautiful coat of paint again and again; caught from various angles by various cameras. This mirth continued as he rapidly blinked his eyes and did his best to spit the gray liquid out of his mouth.

  “That,” Vox said, waving at the monitor, “is why he was late to The Lichtenstein Luau.”

  “I'm glad he was,” Cleo smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It was totally worth it.”

  “Now that all these fun and games are over,” Robert said, shaking his head, “we need to get back to work.”

  “What have we got to do, exactly?” Morgan asked.

  “At the moment,” the traveler replied, “nothing, really. We've got to work on our efficiency.”

  “I don't know,” Cleo disagreed, “I think we've had a pretty productive day. It's about 'quitting time' one way or the other.”

  “I totally agree, small girl,” Vox said, leaning back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head. “We can't work all day, every day, boss.”

  “I suppose that's true,” Robert ceded.

  “It's also well past dinner time,” Celeste asserted, rising from her seat. “Man may work from sun to sun, but woman's work is never done.”

  “You've heard that saying?” Morgan chuckled.

  “Of course,” she smiled. “Although, I think originally it was an old saw from Earth.”

  “It was,” Robert nodded. “Go with her, Mister Harker. A scullery maid's work is never done, either.”

  “Funny.”

  “I'd better come too, then,” Azure said with a sigh, rising from her own seat. “What are we going to cook?”

  “Fried chicken?” Morgan suggested.

  As only he and Robert had ever eaten fried chicken before (as unbelievable as some people may find that fact) they decided to prepare just that. At Morgan's suggestion, they made mashed potatoes and green beans to go with it, as well as some space vegetables (which Celeste proposed) that the young man had never eaten before.

  As they were eating, Morgan put forth a question that had been playing on his mind.

  “Cleo,” he said, “why did Doc end up called down to the ER?”

  “The key cards will only open the doors if you're on duty,” she replied as she was carefully cutting her piece of chicken. “This is really good, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” Celeste said with a smile.

  “It's delicious,” Morgan agreed. “It's hard to believe this is the first time you’ve ever cooked it. Anyway, Cleo, why did being 'on duty' land us in that situation?”

  “The hospital has a really good auto-scheduling system,” she explained. “The only task I assigned Doc to was doing a checkup on Emily – which was a low priority task. As a result, the computer listed him as 'available'.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “You probably should have prevented that,” Robert opined, lifting his chicken breast in his hands. “This is how you eat fried chicken, by the way.”

  “You're a savage,” Cleo giggled. “I'm sure I could have kept him out of the ER if I'd been given more than five minutes.”

  “Noted,” the traveler nodded. “In any event, there was no harm done. We just need to tighten up even more in future.”

  Shortly after dinner had been consumed and the dishes had been washed, the ship dropped back into real space. Robert ordered Cleo to re-hide Miss Marrison's lunch, which Morgan insisted on doing with voice control. Once again, this resulted in the computer flirting with him, but eventually getting the job done. Azure asked Robert how to turn voice control off, but he pretended not to hear her.

  Having done his best to deftly dodge this inquiry, he asked Cleo what the results of Miss Marrison not finding her lunch had been. As they had hoped, her missing meal caused her to meet Mister Dewbridge, run off to the future with him, marry him, and eventually bear a dozen of his children. This put things back exactly as they had been before they started; with the exception of the fact that they now had the brain scan and blood cell that they needed to complete their current task.

  Robert then hopped on the comm with Brother, who explained to Robert that it was well after office hours. After the brief argument this sparked, Miss Marrison's DNA profile was transmitted to Brother, and Robert asked him to have a clone grown as quickly as was feasible. Brother assured him that he would take care of it and got off the comm as fast as he could.

  Although it was already rather late, the crew decided to indulge in their latest hobby before they called it a night and watch a little television together. Somehow (although Morgan could never remember exactly how), I Dream of Jeannie was the program they selected. Cleo seemed completely incapable of not talking incessantly to the show, no matter how many times Robert attempted to shush her.

  In fact, she kept saying things like: “Tony is a complete idiot. If he had half a brain he would just marry her.” and “No man alive would just keep stringing her along like that. It's obvious she worships him.” as well as “If she had any sense at all, she would just marry Roger and get on with her life.” At first, Morgan thought she might be trying to clue Robert in, but he finally came to the conclusion that such was not the case. She simply couldn't see the irony of the situation. As bewildering as he found this, however, he came to a firm decision; he certainly wasn't ever going to point it out to her.

  After TV time, they all went to bed. They had a full day of 'saving the universe' lined up for tomorrow and Robert wanted the entire crew rested and ready.

  Chapter 4: Exterminate

  “Looks like I overslept,” Morgan said as he stepped on the bridge with a stretch.

  “I turned off everyone's alarms,” Robert explained, his eyes on the massive star ship floating in the distance. “We were up a little late last night and the clone won't be ready for another hour or two. I figured we might as well all sleep until nature woke us up.”

  “Good plan,” the young man nodded, slipping down into his seat. “Once we drop the clone off, what's next?”

  “That's what I've been trying to decide,” Robert replied. “As per usual, the smallest details are ridiculously convoluted.”

  “Meaning?”

  “If we just go back and drop the clone off,” the traveler said, turning to look at his companion, “we won't have to.”

  “Because Emily's clone will stop the war, meaning we don't need to replace her with a clone, meaning we'll have created a nice little paradox of our own.”

  “Precisely,” Robert nodded, turning his attention back to the island.

  “It's not like we don't have a ready-made solution,” Morgan asserted. “We just do what we did with the James Morgan clone.”

  “Right... We just order another small ship, fly it back to Rouladen, drop the clone off with instructions to fly into the sun, fly back here, tell the clone not to fly into the sun, and bingo: everything's fixed.”

  “That's what I'm saying.”

  “That's a huge waste of time, Morgan,” Robert replied.

  “We have all the time.”

  “We have a lot of time,” the traveler agreed, “and, we keep getting more. That's not the point, though. It's inefficient, and I can't stand inefficiency. It also happens to be boring, and boring is something I simply can't abide.”

  “What do we do about it?”

  “That's what I'm going to talk to Joe about,” Robert replied, reaching up and pressing buttons on the console.

  Moments later, the image of Chairman Ross appeared on one of the monitors.

  “What's up, Rob?” he asked.

  “I've been thinking about improving our efficiency, Joe.”

  “I like the plan so far. Do you have any details?”

  “Brother's currently growing a clone of our current 'person of interest',” Robert said.

  “I know,” Joe nodded. “He got in touch with me about it last night.”

  “Well,” the traveler continued, “all that's left to do on this job is drop the clone off.”

  “Sounds simple enough.”

 
; “It should be,” Robert agreed. “Which is why I think we may be able to use a delivery pod for this.”

  “No way, Rob,” the chairman replied, shaking his head. “It's too risky.”

  “I don't think it is in this case,” the traveler disagreed. “Norman Dewbridge – the time traveler involved – parked his ship in the woods on the outskirts of the town he visited. Emily Marrison – Miss Paradox herself – followed him out there and vanished into the future.

  “All we need to do is send the pod back to a minute or so after that. The clone hops out, the pod heads back here, and our counterfeit Miss Marrison lives out the rest of her life.”

  “I guess I can see that, actually,” Joe replied, rubbing his chin. “You mind if I run the idea by the council?”

  “How long will it take you?”

  “A day or two,” Joe replied. “I'd like to discuss it with a few of the councilors in private before I bring it to the floor.”

  “I suppose it can't be helped,” Robert sighed. “Not being an irresponsible jackass is a real drag sometimes.”

  “For you, I'm sure it is,” Joe laughed.

  “All things considered,” the traveler said, “we may as well finish this one 'the old-fashioned way'. I don't see any point in sitting around here doing nothing for days.”

  “We wouldn't really have to,” Morgan interjected. “This job is basically done, one way or the other. Why don't we just grab the next one? Unless this one has to be finished before we can do that for some reason.”

  “He's got to be running at more than six percent now,” Joe said with a smile.

  “He is,” Robert chuckled. “He's also right. In fact, we might as well grab a few jobs and head right back out. We should be able to work on more than one at a time, as long as they don't directly affect one another. That being the case, we can line several up in a row, and then come back here to finish them.”

  “Sounds more efficient to me,” the chairman nodded. “I'll have Brother send the information along.”

  “I'd appreciate it, Joe,” Robert nodded.

  Seconds later, the comm was closed.

  “They started growing the clone last night?” Morgan mused.