Kenopsia (Book 1 of Pandora's Wake: The Nomad Chronicles)
Waiting Game

Doctor Allmendinger ran her hand through her hair, brushing it back from her face. Dark bags had begun to form under her reddened eyes. With each breath, the doctor took, Knut could hear the faintest of wheezes, a sound he had become all too familiar with during the last few hours.

“How soon will we know if the treatment is working?” Knut asked.

Doctor Allmendinger sighed,

“It’s a waiting game now. We may know by morning, more likely it will take a day or two. We don’t know what conditions the infection may trigger. We just don’t know enough about the fungi of the Other-Verse, so we tend to fall back on methods for treating terrestrial fungi. Currently, I have them on voriconazole, so I’m treating it like pulmonary aspergillosis but I’m sort of flying a little blind here. We may be better with an intravenous amphotericin compound, but the complications can be severe.”

Knut held up a hand,

“A simplified version for the non-doctor, perhaps Selina?”

The doctor gave a thin smile.

“There are a lot of ways to treat fungal infections or at least to treat our native fungal infections. Two of the most common are a drug called Voriconazole, another is by using compounds of Amphotericin. We have a lot more of the first than we do of the second. Both have a lot of possible side effects, but of the two the first drug’s side effects are both less likely and less severe -usually.”

“Usually?” Knut sounded alarmed.

“There’s more. Of the two, the second is more useful for a wider range of fungal infections but...” she looked at the floor and sighed, “I’m not sure we have enough of it to go around for one thing. Also, I’m worried some of the patients will react badly to it.” She bit her lip.

“Either way, all we can do is continue with treatment and keep monitoring everyone. Chances are we will have to modify the treatment for some of the patients till we get it right, but if we are lucky...”

Knut snorted “It’s been a long damn time since we were lucky!”

Selina nodded “Yes, it has, perhaps we are due some good fortune.” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Knut cocked his head to one side,

“I wouldn’t have thought of you as a great believer in luck.”

“Oh? Because of my scientific background you mean?” She chuckled slightly. “You would be surprised how many medical professionals are superstitious, or believe in luck.”

Knut returned her smile before asking the question that was really on his mind,

“When will we know if...” he broke off, rubbing his beard with his left hand, afraid to ask the question he knew he must ask,

“If it’s Crimson Spore?” the doctor asked, anticipating Knut’s fears.

Knut nodded, mutely.

“Well, if it is, we will see our first episodes of sub-psychotic rage before morning, and the first fatalities from the infection within a day of that.”

Knut’s jaw tightened, “That soon?”

Selina nodded, “Crimson Spore is fast – very fast. I’ve seen it – it’s what caused the collapse of UNFCAIF’s eastern front. An outbreak among the troops.” She shuddered, “Thousands of armed men reduced to sub-psychotic maniacs, it was a blood bath! Those that weren’t killed in the chaos of random shootings and rampages were less lucky.” She squeezed her eyes shut, recalling how the patients they had subdued had died in agony, their heads swelling till they burst.

“The good news though,” she began, “is that what we have here isn’t Crimson Spore. The initial symptoms are entirely different. It causes crippling headaches, high fevers and confusion. What we are seeing is respiratory distress – the few cases of confusion we are seeing are from low levels of oxygen in the blood getting to the brain. I was concerned at first, with Shamus, but it’s different. It’s the sort of slowed cognitive functions you get with some cold and flu sufferers, where they can’t concentrate properly. The confusion with Crimson Spore is more pronounced – it manifests more like the effects of dementia.”

Knut gave an audible sigh of relief. “Perhaps I spoke too soon then.” he mused, “About not having had any good luck, I mean.”

“Perhaps.” Selina agreed before continuing her train of thought. “This is more similar to pulmonary aspergillosis, so I’m treating it as such in the hopes the spores are sufficiently similar, and sufficiently vulnerable to Voriconizole that they will be killed by it. We need to keep monitoring everyone though, we don’t know enough about the fungi from the Other-Verse to be sure, or to know what other effects they may have.”

“Alright.” Knut nodded, “You had better try to get some sleep. You and Cherubin are the only medics we have, and you are the only doctor. We can’t have you collapsing with exhaustion. Most of the others have set up in the reception, strength in numbers and all that. Just in case we didn’t get all the creatures in the basement – or in case there is anything else in this damn hospital that may be dangerous. One or two have gone back to their vehicles but most felt they were safer in here than out there with those damn gore-hounds and whatever else caused the entire population of Bex to pack up and leave.”

“I’ll take a space on the floor in reception,” she said, “strength in numbers as you say. Plus, I can keep half an eye on more of the patients.”

“Good dog!” Ronan smiled down at Karloff as he ruffled the animal’s fur behind its ears. The dog snorted as it settled into his master’s lap. Ronan leant back on the rucksack he had propped against one of the plastic seats of the reception. All around him other nomads had made impromptu beds on the floor or across the rows of seating. Some were lying flat whilst others, like Ronan, had found it easier to breathe sitting upright. The weariness seemed to drain from the big Irishman as he leant back and stroked Karloff. There was always something relaxing about just sitting still in the company of his dog that Ronan really enjoyed. Before the Pandora Event, he recalled that people used to claim cats were so much more relaxing than dogs. He wasn’t sure if he believed it, he had always been more of a dog person than a cat person. Cats had certainly fared much better since the Other-Verse burst through the walls of his world though. Dogs had a tendency to try and fight the monsters, or at least to bark at them, and if there was one thing Ronan had learned it was that drawing attention to yourself when around the hellish creatures of the Other-Verse was never advisable. Now cats on the other hand, cats tended to run. A combination of their speed, reflexes and ability to climb obstacles meant a lot more of them had survived, for now, at least.

By now, Karloff was already asleep. There was something comforting about the way the dog’s breathing slowed as he drifted off, restful even. Gradually, Ronan’s eyelids grew heavier and soon he, too, slipped into a deep and restful sleep.

“All well?” Knut asked the guard on the fire door as he passed, aware this was where Shamus had seen something on the stairs – or thought he had at least.

“All quiet.” came the reply.

Walking casually away, Knut turned into one of the empty emergency treatment booths and carefully drew the curtain. By now the searing pain from his chest was lancing down his left arm. Confident that he could no longer be seen he drew a small pill bottle from his pocket and emptied the last two tablets onto the palm of his hand before popping them into his mouth. He washed them down with a swig from his canteen. Now the pharmacy seemed to have been made safe he would have to risk a trip down there tomorrow when he wouldn’t be missed to see if he could find some more of the tablets. He regretted not asking Cherubin to look for any while the nurse was down there with the raiding party, but he hadn’t wanted to risk news of his illness getting out.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Knut gripped his left arm in his right and lay down on the gurney to wait for the pills to take effect.

Karloff awoke with a start and barked once. The low moaning that had disturbed his sleep continued as the dog scrambled to his paws and padded over to where a small child lay.

“What is it boy?” Ronan asked, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep, but the sun was up and streaming through the windows. Looking around, he could see the other nomads were starting to come too as well.

Karloff pushed past Delphine and Margot Monnier to where the little girl lay. His wet, canine tongue licked the child’s face, eliciting a slight giggle.

“What is it?” Ronan asked, following the dog. He could see the worried look on Madame Monnier’s face as she sat by her youngest child, holding her hand.

“She has a fever...” Margot began, unable to finish her sentence, but as Ronan drew closer, he could see for himself what it was that had the child’s mother and older sister so worried. Camile’s skin was blotchy where a rash had begun to form, but more alarming than that by far was the bloated swelling of the little girl's face.

“I’ll go get the doctor,” Ronan said grimly.

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