OUT OF THE BLUE (PART ELEVEN)

By Allegra

See Part One for disclaimers etc.

As if in a dream, Bridger found himself back in Lucas' room, but he could not bring himself to sit down. He felt an overwhelming wave of self-loathing. The deluge of new information and fluctuating events had forced him to make decisions as a captain which he might not have made as a father. He had barely had the chance to assess how Lucas might feel about all of this. In a few short moments, Nathan felt as if he had betrayed the teenager. In saving Lucas' life, he was also pardoning Cleo's killer. How would the teenager deal with knowing that his saviour had put her in an early grave?

Eventually, he stopped pacing and sat beside the bed. "I'm sorry, Lucas. I had to make this decision... but I'm sorry that it had to be like this. I hope you'll be able to understand that I couldn't bear to lose you. Revenge on Olafsson could never justify your death." Nathan longed to touch the youngster, to hold his hand again, to brush that stray lock of blonde hair from his forehead, but his own revulsion prevented him. Would Lucas want him touching him at all? To the captain, there was no other option, but life was viewed through very different eyes for a teenager. Lucas had suffered so much in his short life and it was difficult to anticipate his response to anything. Who knew what that genius mind scarred by so much pain would make of Bridger's decision.
"I love you, Lucas...and I won't let you go."

Katie looked up from her book when somebody moving outside the door of her quarters caught her eye. She could plainly make out Ben, hovering in the hallway, and she quietly swung her legs off the bed to open the door. "If you're trying to spy, I wouldn't give up my day job just yet." Ben attempted a laugh but he was far from amused. He thought himself to be quite stealthy when he chose... obviously this was not one of those moments. He pondered trying to cover his tracks but opted for the truth. He'd never fool Katie. "Oh, it's probably just the overhead lighting. I'm much better at it in the dark. Commander, I was just, uh, passing and I..."
Katie humoured his clumsy excuses until laughter and impatience got the better of her. "Ben, did you want something? If this is a social call, I think we can get away with the 'commander' title." She opened the door wider and let the flustered lieutenant in.

Ben hovered uncertainly in the centre of the room, unsure where he should sit or what he should do. "Listen Katie, I..." He stopped and Hitchcock felt her heart sink. She had seen that expression way too many times to ignore its message; confusion mingled with a second of vulnerability.
"No, Ben, don't go any further. We've talked about this, I thought we'd figured it out. What happened was..."
"No, I wasn't going to say anything like that. No, no, I just... I guess I just needed a friend, okay." He adopted a defensive stance and Katie knew how much discipline it must have taken to admit. He was 'Mr. Self-Contained' most of the time, never needing anyone, but the commander was glad that Ben felt able to come to her. Clearly, their brief marriage had counted for something at least.
Krieg sat down. "I guess, that and a whole load of other stuff. I don't know."
He shook his head, shrugging off the thoughts. "I don't want to get all sentimental on ya. We both know that's not pretty." Katie tried to diffuse the situation, make him feel a bit more at ease. "Oh, you mean like the time you nearly proposed to me? I reckon there are still people telling that story at family dinners. The expensive dress, the exclusive restaurant..."
Ben finished, "Yeah and don't forget the very unhygienic lake."
Katie laughed, "That was the most embarrassing day of my entire life! I can't help but think it was God's message telling us it wasn't meant to be. Too bad we didn't listen."
Ben raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, come on, give us some credit! We had a few good times...for a while."
Katie nodded, remembering how gallantly he had pulled her out of that lake and onto the pristine decking of the restaurant. Even soaking wet, he had looked gorgeous - that smile, those playful eyes. Tearing her mind quickly away before encroaching memories caused the pair to lose all rational thought again, she grinned, "Well, I don't think there are any stray crabs in here, so feel free to be as sentimental as you want."
A residual smile still plastered on his face, Ben shook his head, "Oh, I don't know, it's nothing really. I guess with everything that's going on, I just wanted some semblance of normality."
"So you picked me?!"
"Well, you know I hate to admit it, but you know me best out of this entire crew...except perhaps Lucas sometimes. The rest of the bridge crew are acting like he's gonna, well, you know. I don't want to believe that, Katie. I mean, I saw that kid when he was lying under a pile of rubble with no medical attention at all and no painkillers even though it must have been excruciating. Even then, he was fighting harder than I could have done. I know it's stupid but I had this idea that as soon as he got back to seaQuest everything would be all right. He'd make it through no matter what." Ben paused, taking in for the first time how much their world had changed in such a short time.
"I can't believe how much impact he's having on me, on everyone, on the way I see things now. Does that sound callous?"
Katie shook her head, warmly. "Not at all. Nobody knows what something like this will do to them. Sometimes, we don't know how much we love someone until that chance is nearly out of our grasp."
Ben swallowed, sharply. "You think he's slipping, Katie? Do you think I've missed my chance to...?"
"No. He's still with us, Ben. And he knows how you feel."
Ben looked up at his ex-wife with a curious expression. "Where did you learn to say all the right things, commander? 'Coz if it was at the academy, I must have skipped class."
Katie smiled, "Instinct and experience." Closing her hand around his, she added, "And women are always better at that."

"Dr. Westphalen, I know that I have been foolish and lives have been lost because of it, but I am sorry for what has happened." Kristin felt herself stiffen with the forced words. She knew that Olafsson meant every syllable, but only because he was in danger of losing his hide. It sent shivers down her spine to think that he imagined her capable of forgiving him when Lucas' life hung in the balance. Perhaps Nathan had been right to treat the scientist with contempt if this was what compassion brought. The more time she spent with Olafsson the more pitiable he appeared in her eyes. There was nothing left to his grand scheme and now he was forced to grovel and display his own cowardice once more. Kristin couldn't decide which was worse, the man who fake suicide to avoid confrontation or the man who was too paralysed by fear even to come up with a plan. She wouldn't stand here and listen to any excuses or pleads for pardon after he was responsible for so much suffering.
"Dr. Olafsson, I am sorry if I have given the wrong impression. I don't care a jot about your guilty conscience. Your apologies are worth exactly nothing in my eyes and the eyes of everyone else aboard this boat. There is not enough generosity in this world to negate your wrongdoings. Saving Lucas is your only chance to redirect your path to redemption, so I suggest you channel efforts into this work instead of bothering me with your whining."

Turning back to the blood work she had been examining, Kristin waited with bated breath to hear the man's reprehensible footsteps moving away from her.

Olafsson stepped back to the bench where he had been working. He hated every one of these UEO employees for the way they always ruined everything, waltzing in with their rules and regulations, hiding under the banner of human rights. They declared themselves a peace keeping organization yet they had torpedoes and weapons aboard and the newspapers were filled with their battle conquests. Still, inexplicably, Emory wanted to be accepted by them. Now, he suddenly found himself vying for their attention and respect as much as he had done with professors at university. Perhaps Westphalen was right, that it was simply cowardice which drove him. If you can't beat the enemy, join their ranks like the turncoat you have always been. Were Wagner here, they would no doubt continue their conspiracy, plotting another course of action to achieve their own gluttonous ends. Olafsson could admit to himself at least that his every move was motivated by selfish gain.

Catching Kristin's disapproving glance, he took a deep breath and turned back to the experiment he had been conducting. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly and to the best of his abilities. Who knew what bonus rewards might lie ahead if he saved this wretched genius kid's life?

Kristin hurriedly got together a blood kit for another sample, heading quickly into Lucas' room. It didn't seem to matter how many times she walked in there and saw his childlike body lying vulnerable and weakened, it continued to shock her. Every time was slightly different, her reactions altered with each glimpse of his failing strength. This was the first time she had been properly alone with him since he had been brought into medbay. She was usually accompanied by a nurse or there were people bustling in and out with medications or forms for her to sign. Now, the many contrasts struck Kristin with brutal force - the incessant, rhythmic beats of all the machines set against Lucas' utter silence.

His skin looked translucent, like a hologram which she was almost afraid to touch in case he melted away before her eyes. Whatever life the teenager had possessed before was suddenly obliterated by his unnatural surroundings, technical machinery. The human was replaced with a bold statement declaring our brief walk in this world to be doubly insignificant. Lucas might not survive but the respirator would be used again, tethering another person to Earth for a millisecond longer. The sheets would wash away his presence and the cards would eventually find a place in a dusty box, another inanimate reminder that he had once existed. Everything else in this room would continue to be used for an indeterminate period when Lucas was long in the grave.

The longer Kristin stood silently beside the bed, the harder it became to tear herself away, as if with a single movement Lucas would dissolve like so much dust in the gentle breeze. Once again her hand reached out to him, syringe poised to take another drop of his poisoned blood. Pressing the vial against cool flesh, she found herself struggling for breath. Heaving gulps issued from her chest and Kristin put one hand to her mouth, hoping to soak up the choking sob which fought against her resolve. He was still alive. Lucas was still alive...and yet she felt as if he was gone already. Only physical touch could unleash the torrent of emotions long building inside the doctor. Her life had already adjusted itself to the youngster's absence, not because she had resigned herself to never finding a cure, but because her treacherous mind had already filed him away somewhere. How could her brain divide itself so? How could she feel such overwhelming love and sorrow, be aching with despair and hollowness, when her mind had already let him go?

Leaning down, she pressed her lips gently to the boy's cheek, his youthful skin softening beneath her touch. She whispered into his hair, "I love you." Grasping her sample, she returned to the lab and resigned herself to the part of her work which left no room for human compassion.

The next two hours passed interminably and Westphalen was despairing. She knew that no matter how skilled a scientist she might be, there simply wasn't knowledge enough in her body to understand all of this alone. That had been the hope in bringing Olafsson aboard; he might take a different approach and open up a side of herself she had been unaware of. Instead, he had only confirmed that they faced the complete unknown and they were grasping at straws. The only certainty they had found was that the substance in Lucas' arteries was indeed particles of polychromatite.

Looking up, she noticed a smile creeping across Emory's face. Catching her eye, he beckoned Kristin over. "I think we might have a breakthrough, Dr. Westphalen."
The words were like sweet music to her ears. "What is it?"
Olafsson held up the blood work for her to see. "The polychromatite is solvent and it is disintegrating just like sodium chloride crystals. The coating on Lucas' arteries has completely disappeared. From what you can see here, I think I have a theory. Since the human body is two thirds water, the positively charged sodium ions are being attracted to the negative oxygen poles of water molecules in Lucas' cells. Similarly, the negative lithium ions in the rock are being pulled towards the negatively charged hydrogen poles. Now, we have already ascertained that the structure of the rock was altered through the intense heat caused by the cave-in explosion. Perhaps the presence of these water molecules has triggered another mutation in the polychromatite's structure."
Kristin examined the theory which Olafsson had sketchily committed to paper in front of him. "How did it get into Lucas' blood stream?"
"Well, you said that his leg miraculously healed itself in a matter of days?"
Westphalen nodded, vigorously. "And you think that the wound in his leg was the point of entry?"
Olafsson shrugged, modestly, knowing that she was very impressed with his finds. "Just like the fish outside the MEDS station ingested it, perhaps broken skin can also allow the substance in." Adopting a serious tone, the scientist looked at Kristin with unwavering concentration.
"Doctor Westphalen, Wagner's original claim that we had manufactured the polychromatite in that cave was not entirely unfounded. When he first arrived at the station, that was our intention. Joint research indicated that it would be possible, that the structure could be altered during transitions set in motion by immense heat or pressure. Although we had not managed to put that into practice, the theory still stands and we had hoped to achieve it by the time industrial resources ran dry. Nobody would've be any the wiser."

Kristin sensed where this was leading but she listened to Olafsson's words patiently. "From the few details we know about this rock, my theory is that through his injury in the cave-in, Lucas became an inhibitor to the rock's next phase of transformation, a blockade as it tried to reform itself into a new structure. In the tests which we carried out at the station, we found that polychromatite responded to many different stimuli."
Kristin offered, "Yes, when Lucas breathed on it, close contact with concentrated carbon dioxide altered its hues."
"Now look at this." Placing a small amount of blood into a petri dish, Olafsson shoved it under the microscope and gestured for Kristin to look in. "This is a sample of my own blood to use as a control. Lucas' is diseased already."
Kristin examined the perfectly normal cells for a moment, then Olafsson drew her away, removing the petri dish. "Now look what happens when I add a drop of the substance from his blood."
Using a teat pipette, he carefully added the contents to the dish and returned it to the microscope. Peering into the lens, Westphalen was startled and excited to see the control cells slowly reducing in size as they became crenated. The higher pressure solution of the liquid polychromatite was rapidly causing an osmotic loss of water by the cells. Pulling away, the doctor couldn't help the grin which crept across her face. Finally, they had found some semblance of hope.
"Dr. Olafsson, I think you've made a breakthrough!"
The scientist felt a warm glow that he had done something right for once, that despite his faults, someone was appreciating his efforts. That was more than most of his previous colleagues had done. "Do not be too hasty, Dr. Westphalen. There is still much work to be done. My first instinct would be to give the patient a transfusion, but you have already done that and it has made no impact. I still do not know what to suggest."
Kristin nodded, grimly. "As long as there are enough molecules of this polychromatite in his body, the new blood cells are affected as they enter his system. Before long, the problem will spread through his body, from the intracellular water to extracellular. But how on earth are we supposed to get this stuff out of him?"
Olafsson cleared his throat, uncertainly. "Well, there is one way." He scrutinized Westphalen's face for some kind of gauge as to whether he should go on and the urgency in her eyes was clear as day. Right now, these people would do anything to get that genius kid back in good health.
"Considering his state and the likelihood of us finding an antidote in time, his chances are slim if we wait. This is dangerous at best and the risk of death..."
"What is it?"
"We bleed him dry, take as much blood as possible while simultaneously disrupting the charge properties of the ions which remain."
Kristin's eyes widened in horror. "It would kill him!"
"Probably...but it is his only chance. Looking at what we have here, I know there is nothing more we can do." He was shocked by the softness creeping into his own voice as he saw the fear in Westphalen's eyes. He had not felt sympathetic towards anyone's cause in a long time. Olafsson's contact with human patients had been limited to his days as a young man, long before disillusionment with the world sent him into the recesses of lonely laboratories to study the inanimate. He had gratefully gone underground, all but forgotten by society. Seeing the inner struggle undergone in front of him dimly reminded him of a day when he had cared what happened to those around him, when there was something beyond selfish motivation to spur him on in any quest. Conjuring up unprecedented empathy, he lowered his voice.
"Doctor, I can see that this is difficult for you. As an objective party, it is important to I remind you that Lucas Wolenczak is suffering from a disease of the blood. It has not spread too far yet but it is only a matter of time before his body is beyond repair. We know next to nothing about this substance, whether it will mutate once more in his bloodstream. We must act now while we can. Any longer and its effects may go beyond our control."
Kristin's gaze wandered longingly towards the doors of the medbay. In her mind she knew that Olafsson was right but in her heart there was nothing but fear and apprehension. She could not make this decision alone. "I should speak to the captain."
Olafsson gently grasped her arm as she moved towards the door. "Captain Bridger gave you full control of this situation, did he not?" Kristin nodded, fearfully. "Then I ask you not to tell him. I know that you do not trust me. I have given you no reason to...but in my experience I have learned that such decisions are difficult for non-scientists to comprehend. They can only see their loved ones, they do not see beyond the danger you are putting them in. They want us to work miracles, convincing themselves that if they wait a little longer, the answers will come. They will not. There is no time. Lucas will die. Don't allow emotions to cloud your judgement. Think with your head."

Kristin found herself strangely touched by the loathsome man's speech. How could this monster nearly kill them only to turn around and see into her heart, into her mind? No matter what she wanted to do at that exact moment, she knew that Olafsson was right. Without a full working knowledge of everything Kristin and Emory had discovered, nobody could understand the decision she was now being forced to make about Lucas' future. If it failed, the blame would fall on her shoulders alone, but there was no other way. "We'll need a transfusion kit immediately."

Without pausing to see the smug expression which she imagined to find on the scientist's face, Kristin quickly headed into medbay for supplies. Olafsson had been surprisingly sensitive throughout the investigations but, ultimately, the doctor knew that he would take as much pleasure in the technical machinations and scientific disinterest, as she would in seeing progress in their patient. Kristin simply wanted to keep busy, refusing to indulge any feeling she experienced towards Lucas. It would weaken her if she did. She was certain that if she thought about him for even a moment, she wouldn't be able to go through with any of this.

Within half an hour, Lucas had been moved to the OR and the room was looking like something out of a science fiction film rather than a medical bay. Tubes and wires tracked around the bed, some inserted into veins and arteries, others wiring him up to various machines. The plan was to begin by taking out as much affected blood as possible while monitoring Lucas' heart. This was to be followed by pulsing an electrical charge through the boy's body in an attempt to destroy the polychromatite substance now dissolved in his blood stream. Then, new blood would be pumped back into his system and everything done to help the youngster recover.

Once all the appropriate equipment was set up, Kristin found herself once again struggling for breath. This was not the same as sitting beside Lucas' bed as he steadily worsened. She felt like a murderer or, at the very least, accessory to it. In spite of all her efforts to remain indifferent, she could not begin this without saying goodbye...just in case. Turning to Olafsson, Kristin looked him in the eye, hoping to find some kindness there.
"I'd like a moment alone with him, if you don't mind."
The scientist nodded, curtly. "I'll be next door." He glanced over at the inert boy on the bed. "But doctor, time is of the essence."

Kristin waited until she heard the door swing closed behind him before sitting on the edge of the bed.
She had been responsible for making decisions about people's bodies for much of her adult life, often placing them in risky situations in the hope of improving their quality of life. Rarely had Kristin ever fully appreciated the impact those decisions had, the stream of cataclysmic events which might ensue for the patient's family. Now, all those statistics and percentages came flooding back to her in bright technicolour. To any other doctor, Lucas was just one of those anonymous people, a number to be dealt with and the disease matched to the most effective course of action.

Westphalen knew what would happen to his body if he was bled dry, the strain this was going to place on someone so young, someone with so much healing to do already. The measures were extreme and even a grown man who was as strong as an ox would have a difficult recovery, but a child... Although Lucas was no longer literally a child anymore, somehow that only made the situation worse. He was the first step on the road to a bright future, to all the good things about life where he didn't have to worry about the father looking over his shoulder or being shipped off to wherever his parents chose to send him next. The world was his oyster and Kristin knew it would not be long before the teenager began to see a new path. Was she really going to be the one to take all that away from him? After being assigned to seaQuest, Lucas' parents had handed any decisions about the teenager's health to Captain Bridger who had, in turn, given her permission. There was no one else to ask. The decision lay on the doctor's shoulders alone.

Staring down at the youthful face, she inwardly grimaced at the sickly pallor trickling through his flesh, devouring any thread of healthy colour. Kristin manoeuvred herself so that she was sitting near the head of the gurney, smoothing the hair from the boy's face with maternal care.
"Lucas, if you can hear me, I...I want you to fight as hard as you can. I know it's hard...but I need you. We all need you." She wiped a stray tear from her cheek.
"I wish I knew I was making the right decision, that this is what you want. As your doctor, I can't see any other way but as family, I can't bear the thought of losing you. So you must fight it. Fight the urge to sleep, to let us slip away. Please."
The words choked in her throat and she kissed the boy's hand fiercely, squeezing it tightly as if imagining somehow Lucas must be able to feel her. Pressing one more kiss to his forehead, Kristin marched from the room. She could not bear to spare another desperate glance back at him. She had the strength to walk away now, but she wasn't sure there was restraint enough to do it again.

Olafsson was busily checking through the drug supplies and immediately began wittering on about various possibilities to kick start Lucas' system once the procedures were over. Kristin's mind was only half listening but she struggled against the shock, trying to win back a degree of self possession. She needed to be completely alert. Lucas was relying on her to pull him through and there was no room for error.

Olafsson noticed the vaguely glazed expression on the doctor's face and he trailed off, staring over her shoulder towards the medical room. "Are we ready?"
Kristin heard herself reply, "Let's do this."

Captain Bridger was pacing his quarters without even realizing it. It just followed that as soon as he reached one end of the room, something made him turn and walk to the other, then again and again. It was like those days when you rush somewhere only to forget entirely what you wanted from there. In this case, Nathan was pacing to try and catch hold of one of the myriad of thoughts ploughing through his mind. There were so many yet, if someone were to come in and ask him, he wouldn't have a clue what a single one of them was. With each pace, he tried to reel one in, but they would never come...and he knew why. There was a very simple explanation for all the irrational and uncontrollable feelings he had been experiencing and they stemmed from a certain person fighting for his life in medbay.

Kristin had told him to leave, that they would inform him as soon as they made any progress. He had received a quick update a couple of hours ago but the information had not been encouraging. However, Nathan had been grateful to hear Westphalen's opinion on Dr. Olafsson. Apparently, he had been quite co-operative and so progress was likely to be quicker than they had originally anticipated. When she signed off, Kristin had bluntly told the captain that it was likely to be many hours before they found anything else. Bridger understood the implications of that all too well. It meant 'stay away and don't bother us. Don't call us, we'll call you'. It was probably the hardest lesson the captain would ever have to learn.

He had not even bothered to try and occupy himself with work. He felt completely useless. The one thought he was capable of retaining was the recurring fear that a solution would never be found. He would have spent all this time pacing round his room when he could and should have been at Lucas' side, helping him through his last hours. It was torture not knowing which way Fate would spin them.

Blood pooled in the receptacles placed at the foot of the bed; all Lucas' strength and life silently ebbing from his veins. It was frightening to see, the horrifying fact that there was not even a flicker of pain or suffering on that pale face. Perhaps the poor boy was screaming inside, begging them to stop, when nobody could hear him. Or perhaps they had already lost him and this was an empty vessel.

Kristin found herself strangely grateful for Dr. Olafsson's presence. When all of this had begun, nothing could have prepared her for what they now faced. She considered herself a strong woman but, without the scientist's rational mind pressuring her on, Kristin knew in her heart that she might not have had the willpower to perform this torturous procedure alone. When it came to those she loved, the doctor lacked the courage of her convictions. It was always easier to sit by and pray for a miracle rather than voluntarily aggravate the pain and suffering already afflicting them. Without Olafsson, Lucas' misery might have been prolonged...but it might have been alleviated in time.

"Doctor? The bleeding is almost complete. His heart is failing."
Kristin jumped up and reached for the defibrillator paddles. "Okay, charging. Clear!"
The scientist stood back as Lucas' body arched involuntarily, volts of electricity coursing through his weakened body. The monitors beeped uncertainly before slowly evening out.
Olafsson hurriedly prepared the second stage, producing an evil-looking contraption which would be used to send small amounts of electrical current through his body without burning internal organs. Kristin busied herself with organising the next transfusion process, preferring to leave the rest to the scientist. She couldn't stand to watch as he attached electrodes to Lucas' body, adjusting the settings and flicking the switch.

A dim humming noise came from deep inside the box and Kristin watched in horror as it did its work. Lucas' body lay still, his heartbeat coming in tremulous starts, and she was certain it would give out at any moment. For five minutes, the pair waited in deafening silence for the substance to be diffused from the boy's system. Suddenly, the EKG monitor squealed as the teenager's heart finally gave out. Kristin was doing chest compressions before she was even fully aware of what was happening.

Dr. Olafsson charged the defibrillator paddles and delivered jolts of electricity to Lucas' body. Still there was nothing. Kristin snatched them away from him, "250! Charged! Clear!"
She watched in horror as the monitor refused to pick up a beat. She barked, "Start rapid infusion."
Olafsson looked at her in amazement, as if it were the most preposterous idea he had ever heard. "What?! But we don't know if the toxins are out of his system yet!"
Kristin cranked the defibrillator current up another fifty joules, praying that Lucas would be able to hold onto the beat this time. Relief washed over her momentarily when an irregular beeping greeted her efforts. She turned to Olafsson who had made no move to do as she had asked. "I don't care. We have to stop now. His body can't take any more."
"But..."
"No! He is my patient and I say that we begin the infusion immediately." Her voice was firm and Emory could see that there was no changing her mind. He had no personal attachments to this kid, he didn't care whether he lived or died. It was the lost experiment which he resented, the fact that Westphalen was rendering their work redundant if the substance had not yet been eliminated.
"Very well."
Quickly, he set up the fresh blood and extra plasma on the stand beside the bed. Setting the infusion flow as high as the boy's body could cope with, Olafsson stepped away. Now all they could do was wait.

Looking over at the thin, infirm frame of the youngster, he couldn't help wondering how the kid had even made it this far. There didn't seem to be flesh enough to cope with a cave-in and then a lethal poison leeching his energy away with each passing moment. Seeing the stillness, the dark bruises of his sunken eyes, Olafsson bore little hope of survival. Still, he might be responsible for a great deal of suffering here, but he was not completely heartless. Emory knew that Wolenczak was surrounded by people who clearly cared a great deal about him and he would not be the one to deliver the final blow. Westphalen was a clever woman and she wouldn't be blind to the facts of what lay ahead. Stepping out into the hallway, he went to wash up.

Kristin carefully pulled the hospital gown up over Lucas' bare shoulders, removing the protective pads placed on his chest from the defibrillators. His skin was cool to the touch, tinged with an unhealthy blue colour. She arranged the blankets around his body, wrapping gel packs which had been heated in the microwave inside. Stroking his hair away, Kristin cupped his face in her hands while being careful not to knock the respirator still supporting his breathing.
"Lucas, it's all done now. You just hang in there."
It was more worrying to imagine that he was aware of everything which was happening to him, but the doctor didn't know what else to say. She was so worried and, beyond physical touch, there was little comfort anyone could offer him.

Looking around at the debris of the procedure, Kristin was shocked by how terrible the scene would appear to an outsider. Empty blood bags littered the floor and syringes were tossed haphazardly into trays.

She glanced up as Dr. Olafsson entered already changed into new scrubs, reminding Kristin of how bloodied hers had become during the hasty transfusion changes. "I should go and tell Captain Bridger... just as soon as I clear up some of this mess."
Olafsson nodded, "How are his vitals?"
Kristin sighed, "Pulse rate is 90/70 and his breathing is entirely dependant on the respirator...but it's too early to tell."
"I suggest we give the boy a few hours to recuperate before taking another sample and testing it and you inform the captain."

Kristin shook her head, clasping Lucas' hand in her own. "No, I've kept them apart for too long already. Bridger deserves the chance to see him, to talk to him." Now that the flurry of activity was over, Westphalen sensed her resentment towards Olafsson building again, resentment that the teenager's chances of recovery still did not look good. Bitterly, she murmured, "I wouldn't expect you to understand." Pushing past him into the hallway, she went to get changed. It would probably give Nathan a heart attack if he saw her all covered in blood, although she knew that none of his reactions were going to be healthy.

Nathan had finally exhausted his anxiety into sleep and was already dreaming when the PAL chirruped beside the bed. "Yes?"
"Oh, Nathan, did I wake you?"
Blearily wiping sleep from his eyes, the captain sat bolt upright. "No, it's okay. How is he? What's happening?"
"He's...well, it's hard to say. I think it would be better if you came down to medbay." Nathan was already reaching for his shirt before the words had left her lips. "Of course, of course, I'm on my way." Switching off his PAL, the captain urgently pulled on anything he could find and took the stairs two at a time down to medbay.
Kristin was there to greet him, her face warm and comforting in his renewed worry. "Nathan, Lucas is still unconscious but you can see him if you want." Nathan nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "Follow me. He's still in the OR. The nurses are just preparing his room until his vitals steady."
Nathan listened in shock. What had been going on down here?
"What happened? Is he getting worse?"
Kristin ran one hand around her aching neck. Her heart was far from sure that Lucas was out of the woods. "I've literally just taken a blood sample which Dr. Olafsson has taken for testing. I'll explain everything when you've seen Lucas."

Kristin cast a cursive look around the OR as she entered, ensuring that she had not left any damning evidence of the terrible procedures the teenager had endured in here. Fortunately, everything appeared to be in order and Lucas didn't look much worse than he had before it had happened.
Nathan quickly crossed over to the gurney and laid a tentative hand over the boy's cheek. "Hey, kiddo. It's just me."
Kristin stood back to give the captain a little privacy. The look of expectancy and anxiety which rested in the furrows of his forehead made her begin to wish she had waited until the blood test had come back. Her hastiness in reuniting Bridger with his surrogate son felt selfish now because she had wanted everything to get back to normal and to hear someone say that it wasn't her fault. Now, she realized that the uncertainties which still plagued the teenager's recovery were nothing but an extra torture for the captain.
"Nathan, sit down and I'll explain what we have done."
Nathan nodded, a hopeful smile crossing his face as he sat beside the bed. "He looks better, doesn't he?"

Kristin managed a semblance of reassurance in her gaze but she wanted him to have all the information. It was awful knowing how blind they still were to what was happening, unsure whether they had made the problem worse or better. As briefly and clearly as possible, the doctor explained the entire procedure, from what Olafsson had found out about the polychromatite substance to the decision they had made. Kristin noticed Nathan's sharp intake of breath when she explained the primitive way they had flushed the substance out. Finishing up, she allowed Bridger a moment to recollect his thoughts. All of this must have come as a great shock and it was a lot to digest in such a short time.
"Nathan, I'm sorry that I didn't consult you. There was little time and I...I wasn't sure that it was fair to ask anyone else to make that decision without all the facts. It would have taken so long to explain everything we had gone through to get to that point, I..."
Bridger silenced her by taking her hands in his own. "No, I do understand. Don't get me wrong, given the choice, I would want to know, but I know you were only acting in Lucas' best interests."
Kristin let out an imperceptible sigh of relief. He understood. "Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that." Pulling her close to him, Nathan hugged Westphalen and she could feel the intensity of his relief through the strong arms encircling her. The doctor was suddenly aware of how long it had been since she had shared such a moment of human contact. She had not realized how much she had craved it until it was finally offered to her.

Eventually, they drew apart and Nathan turned his eyes back to Lucas. Kristin checked his vitals once more. "His vital signs are improving all the time. I'll be honest with you, I don't know how temporary this improvement might be. Until the blood work comes back..."
"I think you can lay your fears to rest." Nathan and Kristin turned to see Emory Olafsson in the doorway, holding the paperwork from the tests. "Captain."
Bridger offered a cagey handshake, "I believe I owe you a vote of thanks, doctor."
Emory accepted the hand with good grace, nodding towards the unconscious teenager. "His vitals are better, I see."
Kristin smiled. "Yes, thank goodness."
The scientist held out the papers he was holding and took a step further into the room. "We succeeded in breaking up the polychromatite ions in his system and there doesn't appear to be any trace of it left in his blood anymore. Still, you should keep a firm eye on him."
Kristin surveyed the file with interest, then looked up. "Yes." Glancing at Nathan, she knew that no matter how much the captain still blamed Olafsson for everything which had happened, the man deserved her thanks. "Thank you, doctor. Without your help, Lucas would be dead now." Seeing this as his only chance for appeasement, Emory shrugged.
"I'm glad I was of use. I am glad that something good came out of all this mess."

Nathan's relief about Lucas' condition made it a fortunate day in Olafsson's life. The captain wanted nothing more than to forget about everything which had befallen his precious family unit on the seaQuest since they went to the MEDS station. No matter how much suffering the scientist deserved in light of those events or how much Lucas might want revenge, a deal was a deal. Without Olafsson, Kristin was absolutely right, the boy would undoubtedly be dead. What could be more precious than restoring life to that youngster? No amount of personal pride was worth the consequences it might have reaped. Conjuring up all the benevolence he could muster, Nathan said, "I'll get onto Admiral Noyce tomorrow morning and arrange the paperwork for your unconditional release."

Dr. Olafsson felt awkwardly humbled now that his career and reputation had been spared. For years, he had acted out of selfish greed every time and yet these people really did deserve to serve under the UEO peacekeeping treaty. They had spared him out of kindness and because a dying boy had needed his help. There was no money to be gained, no reward or title to be garnered. They were humanitarians and good people, something he accepted he could never be.
"Thank you, Captain Bridger. I know my actions can never be excused but if I could take back the past months, I would. I didn't want him hurt and I didn't want Miss Walker dead."

Bridger steeled himself against the man's words. He was ready to forget but he was not prepared to forgive. Nobody could act so callously, be responsible for deaths and expect it to be ignored. Cutting in, he snapped, "I think we have said all there is to say. I suggest you get some rest. I'll have a shuttle ready for you tomorrow to take you back to the mainland."

Acknowledging that he had overstepped the mark, Olafsson left the pair alone. Now that it was all over, he wanted out of here. He wanted to refuge from the UEO and a place to lick his wounds until time erased the memories of the damned MEDS station, Eric Wagner, and the ubiquitous seaQuest. He knew that he should be counting his lucky stars. There was still a lot which Bridger didn't know and which would now lay undiscovered due to the unfortunate demise of Lucas Wolenczak. The UEO knew nothing about the experimental use of the powdered polychromatite as a drug. Both he and Wagner had found it to have powerful effects, none of which he would have to reveal now. Olafsson just had to lay low until the UEO released him from his debt and forgot about the whole debacle, then he would be free to reclaim some of his research. He might not be able to return to his original plan but there would always be a market for the kind of drugs he could offer, no matter how shady the dealings. He would have to be careful and take plenty of time to slowly build back his empire. In the meantime, he needed to get the hell off this submarine and try to salvage what was left of his old life at Anchorage.
Nathan turned back to where Kristin was gently tucking blankets round Lucas' small body. Whispering, he asked, "Have we got him back? For real?"
Kristin felt the tears swimming in her vision. "He's home." Wrapping warm arms round the captain's waist, the pair gazed down lovingly at the child they had been so sure they would lose. It was finally over.

Sheets of fine, liquid grey spread endless arms through the boundless ocean in ripples of colour, alive and ever-changing. The water stretched on for miles, a territory so alien and indomitable yet somehow comforting.

Lucas gazed through the thick glass shield of the shuttle taking him back to Anchorage. Land was only a few short miles away, closing in on the final resting place of Cleo Walker. After all that had happened, he found it hard to know how to feel. Just as her fragmented ashes were scattered into the wind, so the teenager's image of her grew distorted. Cleo had become as transitory as the droplets making up this vast ocean. She was like a song from the sea, a whisper in the water. Her voice and picture would live on in him forever - sometimes nothing more than a glimmer, sometimes pellucid as daylight breaking on the horizon.

No matter which way his heart tugged him, Lucas' mind always returned to the ocean. It represented everything which was important to him. It engulfed the ones he loved in its unfaltering security like amniotic fluid, a mother's swollen belly protecting against harm. The sub-aqueous world was so different to anything above, somehow accepting without condition. Air-breathing humans led a precarious existence in the man-made bubble of oxygen while death washed against their home daily. Yet, now its depths had taken on a new dimension for Lucas. He used to associate the water with sanctuary. seaQuest was like a time capsule, indifferent to the changing trends and horrors which plagued the dry earth. It used to be untouchable, unaffected, autonomous. Now, Lucas knew it to be a false belief. His life could still change, man's greed could still reach into his chest and pull out his still-beating heart.

He ran one finger lazily over the small scar where he had torn the IV from his arm. It had healed perfectly until the second setback, when it had reopened as a willing reminder of everything which had happened over the past month. There was not a single trace of the polychromatite in his system anymore, but Dr. Olafsson had been committed by the UEO to conducting further research on the rock's properties under their guidance. Now that there was no chance of profit, the man made quick progress in discovering its nature. The rock was indeed a derivative of tourmaline which had been hidden under layers of glacial and lava rock for thousands of years. Despite excitement that the polychromatite might turn out to be extra-terrestrial, tests proved its fluctuating properties to be a result of a long-term cooling process.

All of Lucas' suffering could be reduced to such simple facts; avaricious men fighting for the rights to an ancient piece of rock. To this teenager though, none of it could be simplified so readily. After all that had happened, it was impossible to imagine that one alteration in events might have prevented everything - Cleo's death, his own injuries. Life wasn't fair. Lucas had always know that, but as he looked out at the encroaching land mass, he knew there must be reason. It was like when you reached the top of a cliff and just know that you can't go back on the same path, that you have to take that leap. Somewhere in his leaden heart was a glimmer of faith in the world he nearly spurned. Cleo's smile came washing back to him in a swelling tide and he knew she was still with him. Her eyes resisted him, telling him it was meant to be... and he had no choice but to believe her. As swiftly as she had appeared, the shuttle burst to the surface and a ball of sunlight claimed her.

Water playful round
My head,
The moon is high
The sky is red
In this timeless space
I lose your face
Diamonds dazzling my
Eyes and I feel so alive.
Summer's nearly gone.

There's only you,
There's only me
Between the devil and
The deep blue sea
So close to land, but in the
Hands of another people's god
Oh God, where were you?
Took one last look and he was gone.

INGRID SCHROEDER - 'Waterbaby'

-----THE END-----