Lokizen Aeon pulled on safety goggles and a lead lined tunic, just in case, and watched the tests over the Dark Sea and Krakenstorm from the safe vantage point of the Gearhaven lighthouse. If only Justine had been more careful. He pondered the Dark Sea lighthouse ruins, removing the goggles, and sighed.
The door of the clinic opened, admitting the Duke and Duchess, followed by the Bard.
"Doctor," the Duke said, "Is she ok?"
Zack turned to the Duke and the Duchess, nodding politely at them. "Pulse higher than normal, low BP, 3rd degree burns, radiation levels dangerously high...I am currently proceeding to a disinfection protocol of her body before applying other remedies. But yes, she will be okay."
The Duchess frowned, taking in the readings from the pod. "She's in stasis. By definition, that's not exactly okay." Turning to watch the poet rush in, she rubbed her forehead as if struck by sudden headache.
Rusty stopped, taking in the scene, summarising with one word. "Dammit."
Hiro asked the doctor, "Was it Nuclear, Magick or Biological?"
"Radiation level high? At least partially nuclear," the Duchess replied, her eyes still on the pod readings. Then she turned, glaring at the radio playing softly in the corner. "'She's So Cold', really? Right now?"
"Radio Paradise has a dark sense of humor," Hiro said, stepping closer to the stasis pod.
Zack nodded in agreement with the Duchess. "Considering the high level of radiation in her tissues, I would say it was nuclear. Her clothes are there in the corner. She will need more clothes after the dermal repairs."
"But she can be--fixed, right?" the Duchess asked, a rising note of concern in her voice.
Zack smiled reassuringly at the Duchess. "I will do my best to make sure she is."
The poet paced the clinic, nervously chewing a fingernail. "So how does one avoid being killed by a ship that belongs to us?"
Hiro leaned in to the doctor. "We do have her DNA in the Tannhäuser clone lab, if needed."
The Duchess narrowed her eyes at the Duke, a thought suddenly occurring to her. "If any of the children are sick from the upper-atmosphere blasts, we are going to talk, you and I."
Turning to Rusty, Hiro put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Sir Poet...The Ships only fire at anyone without a GH Tag."
"Correction," Emilly added, "One ship. The other ship fires at anyone without Armada's tag."
Zack looked at the scanner beeping and nods. "The disinfection protocol is complete. So all that is needed is to transfer her to the surgery dome here and we will be able to proceed to the dermal repair."
The lighthouse keeper returned to check on Justine’s progress as Zack pressed a button on the pod, moving Justine to a stretcher to transfer her to the surgery dome.
"Hello Duke, Duchess. Rusty," said Lokizen, watching Zack moving the Countess. "I saw the second test, impressive."
"Sadly," the Duke said, nodding to Lokizen, "Justine was too close to the blast."
Lokizen nodded, looking pensive. "I heard and came to check. Will any fallout be a concern?"
"I'll check on the Prometheus," the Duke said, and they all watched, mystified, as he left, flying off towards the larger ship.
Zack initialized the repair procedure on the surgical unit and turned to Emily. "Do you have a sample of DNA that would be compatible with her body, Duchess?"
The Duchess looked at him, concerned, or perhaps appalled, "I'm...not sure we should be involving my genetic line in her structure? It's not, um..." She blinked, tossing over words. "Normal," she finally said. "Wait, do you mean the samples in Tannhäuser? I can go get those if you--"
Zack nods at her. "Then I can take a blood sample from her body. It should not be too hard. It's just to allow the surgery dome to reproduce the correct type of skin for the reparation."
Emilly was about to reply when she paused, tapping her ear. "What do you mean, the Duke's dead again?! It was YOUR job to stop that from happening!" she exclaimed. She ran out of the room.
Zack bemusedly watched her run out, shaking his head. "Okay...time to get the Countess back on her feet before those two get killed."
"Cripes!" the poet spat out, resisting the urge to pace. Lokizen came to stand next to him, watching the machine anxiously.
The doctor climbed the stairs and went into the supply cupboard, grabbing a hypospray from one of the drawers, and putting on a fresh pair of gloves.
(Continued in part C.)
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