46
The Navy doc studied the read-outs for too long, his face screwed up in concentration.
“Uh, how about it, Doc? Am I alive?”
“Oh, sorry. With your IBHU, I was just trying to see if there was any correlation to the numbers. You’re the first IBHU Marine I’ve tested, you know.”
Rev waited for the numbers as the doctor looked at him expectantly. “Any questions?” the doctor finally asked.
“Yes, sir. What do the tests say? Am I OK?”
The doctor shook his head and said, “My goodness. I guess you would want to know that. I swear, I’m getting more and more absentminded every day.”
Which didn’t give Rev a warm-and-fuzzy about the man’s competence.
“Your SKRs are slightly up from a year ago. I think we need to watch those, and I’d recommend annual checkups once you’re back in civilian life. There was a blip in the Peshow percentage, but that may have been caused by your IBHU.”
“But Doctor Chakrabarti said Pashu, I mean, my IBHU, was external, and it shouldn’t affect my chances of getting the rot.” The doctor scowled, and Rev added, “She was the one who—”
“I know who she is, Sergeant. She works for Sieben, so her goal is to increase the company’s profits. I hardly think she’s got your best interests at heart.”
Rev felt a lump forming in his throat. “You mean she lied to me?”
“Maybe, maybe not. But just looking at basic science, if augmenting increases the chance of Weislen’s Syndrome, then don’t you think what they did to you could have a long-term effect? I just wouldn’t trust Chakrabarti’s word on it given her conflict of interest.”
“So, that Peshow thing you said, does that mean I’m getting the rot?” Rev asked, not really sure if he wanted to know.
“Don’t worry about it, son. You’re fine now, but I would want to monitor that. You’ll be fully covered as a civilian for the testing, so don’t put it off. Any other questions?”
“One, sir.” He hesitated, wondering if he should ask.
“And that is . . . ?”
“Uh, Sergeant Hu. Cali Hu. With Golf Company. We heard she’s got the rot. Uh, Weislen’s. Is that true?”
The doctor almost jumped back, and he stammered out an answer. “I can’t release any information about another patient.”
But Rev knew. His reaction and calling Cali a “patient” answered the question.
Cali was a casual acquaintance. They’d been in the same Direct Combat class after boot. When they set up the mobile testing hut for all of the augmentees in preparation for releasing the convicts, Rev and the rest hadn’t thought much of it. Just one more administrative action. Cali had gone through that first day along with her company, but she’d been immediately taken away after the test. The rumor mill had gone wild.
All augmented Marines and sailors knew that their chances of contracting the rot later in life had been increased, but that was something for the far future. When fighting the Centaurs, it faded into insignificance. But now, with the war over, people started thinking about a life after the Marines. They were the lucky ones to survive when so many hadn’t. So, when the rumors started spreading that Cali had contracted the rot, that hit people hard. To survive the Centaurs only to get taken down by the disease just didn’t seem fair.
And if she could get it, then any of them could get it. Instead of being a worry for the future, that worry was now.
The doctor, still a little flustered, dismissed Rev and told him to send in the next patient.
Respect, Cali, respect, he told himself as he started back to the barracks, feeling as if he’d just dodged a bullet.