Night 53: Morgue
[ From here.Ludwig had... not anticipated anything like this. The instant after he and John broke through the door, a rush of cool air met them. The room was frigid, and as Ludwig led the way in, he knew exactly where they were. Weighing stations, beds, tables... and worst of all, those refrigerated cabinets in the walls. This was a morgue, and it
( Read more... )
It also made the chances of a body being stashed up there at the time of the ceiling going up also just as unlikely. The body couldn't have bled this long or heavily. The growing stain looked extremely fresh. Hell, it was even dripping. Now there was a puzzle right there.
McCoy tiptoed up, making his perch even more dangerous, and craned an ear towards the ceiling. He rapped a knuckle on it, then moved his hand, rapped it a few inches away from the first knock as he listened intently. Normally you could just scan for this sort of thing. He wasn't seeing that landing in his lap any time soon, which left doing things the old fashioned way. If the space was somehow occupied, they'd hear the difference.
The doctor continued knocking his hand against the blood seepage, then the area around it, moving methodically. He couldn't hear a difference. No answering knock or shuffling from someone who might be conscious but bleeding out. He hadn't been expecting it, the blood stain was too large, but part of him had been hoping. There weren't any dull thuds of a space taken up by something else either. Leaning his weight back more on the tabletop, he looked down at Spock and gave a small shrug.
"I don't think there's a body up there but I can't be completely sure without getting inside that ceiling," McCoy carefully got down from the table. He pulled off the gloves, and disposed of them in one of the nearby bins for hazardous waste. "Could be leaking down here from the floor above, but that would mean a hell of a lotta blood just to get down a floor."
Reply
Ultimately, however, they were unable to ascertain what the source of the leak was, even if it was indeed unlikely that it was from a body. He didn't discount the possibility that this was some sort of stimuli placed by Landel in order to observe their reactions, but there was no evidence for that outside of the head doctor's past behavior. Regardless, there was little they could do about that now, outside of investigating nearby rooms for similar collections of blood.
"We should continue searching through the rest of the area before attempting to pry open the ceiling," Spock said. "There may be clues related to what we are seeing here."
By now the other patients were beginning to move elsewhere. It would be best for them to do the same, rather than staying in one place longer than necessary.
Reply
McCoy watched the other two patients start to head off. He turned and, closing the first aid kit, closed it and tucked it under an arm. The doctor found himself looking up at the blood stain one last time. He didn't think there was someone up there but that blood had come from somewhere. If not now, someone had had it drained. He had seen all kinds of blood in the line of duty, human, humanoid, near-humanoid, non-humanoid, artificial. That stuff had looked like the real deal. So while it was unlikely there was a body they could get to from here, it didn't answer where all that blood was coming from, whose, or what it was doing here. Or how exactly.
Spock wanted to get down to business before coming back to this mystery. Duty first.
"Did you give any thought to what I mentioned earlier?" he asked curtly. "About splitting up in each section."
Reply
There was always danger in splitting up, of course, but reconnaissance was one of their top priorities. The conditions now seemed ideal for checking rooms separately. There was no way to tell whether they would be so fortunate at a later time.
"Straying too far from one another would be unwise," Spock answered. "However, so long as neither of us venture out from this section, I agree it would be best to split up." He turned his gaze over to the door they'd entered last night.
"It would be interesting to know whether they managed to replace the supplies we acquired before," he added. Learning how long it took the staff to take inventory and find suitable replacements would help know if there were limits to their resources, or if there were weaknesses within the staff that they could somehow use to their advantage. "If you take that room, I can further explore this one to check for anymore clues regarding the blood on the ceiling."
Spock turned to McCoy, extending his knife to him. "I recommend staying armed." Since he was well-versed in Vulcan forms of martial arts, it was not as imperative for him to keep a blade with him. Doctor McCoy, on the other hand, needed a weapon to keep himself safe.
Reply
McCoy decided not to make trouble, since he was just getting off of this Spock's leash here. It'd be nice to have a few minutes of breathing space without his CO breathing down his back watching. He also needed some time away from the Vulcan to think over last night.
He couldn't say he quite agreed with Spock about the matter of the supplies possibly getting replaced. He might find the matter mildly interesting himself: McCoy was much more interested in that blood on the ceiling and digging around about the institute itself.
When Spock handed him the knife, McCoy nearly changed his mind about causing a fuss. Blades as a weapon was something he wasn't too fond of. He could use a phaser just fine, you could usually stun someone with it and settle things, but a knife... well, it was hard to knock a person out with a knife without really hurting them in the process. Almost as bad as old firearms.
And he didn't think a knife would have helped them last night. Or the night before. It seemed like a formality.
"I'll keep it in mind," said the doctor awkwardly. McCoy couldn't quite hide the uncomfortable look as he took the knife. "I'll let you know if I find anything."
Gingerly putting the knife away, he turned and headed towards one of the rooms.
[to here]
Reply
McCoy seemed to agree, even if it was clear he wasn't comfortable with wielding a knife. Spock found it rather distasteful himself, but there was little helping their limited resources for the time being. It was far better for McCoy to have some form of weapon with him, rather than no weapon at all. His position as CMO only solidified Spock's position on the matter.
The Vulcan watched him walk toward the autopsy room they visited last night before turning away. While the doctor checked into that area, Spock decided it would be best if he continued investigating potential factors that could be contributing to the stain.
Staying alert in case the scent attracted a hostile lifeform looking to feed, Spock slowly made his way around the edges of the room. The cadaver tables glinted with the beam of his light as he moved. It didn't take long to realize that, other than the repaired lights and the blood dripping down onto the floor, there were no other significant changes. Furthermore, a thorough search turned up no extra useful supplies.
There was little else for them to do here. While it would have been ideal if they knew of a way to access the third floor, the fact they didn't meant they were unable to investigate the source of the blood. Turning his light toward the southern doors, Spock began to make his way to McCoy's area in order to hear what he'd found thus far. If his search was as uneventful as Spock suspected, then they could go deeper into this particular wing.
Unfortunately, his reduced hearing made it impossible for him to have any clue of what was in store for him.
Reply
There was only one primary thought running through his mind at the moment. I have to get out of here. It stampeded through every part of him. over and over. He grabbed for the door. He had to get out of here, get to a shuttle bay or transporter. He pulled it open roughly. The shuttle bay might be (slightly) easier to get to, but he could get shot down before he got far. The transporter was better. He hated those things, but he had better chances with it than shuttles. And even if there was an accident, at least it'd be instant. Compared to what the Captain could do to him for trying to desert...
He staggered into the room, shutting the door behind him, and was already clumsily crossing the room for the other door when he caught sight of who was in here. That was when McCoy froze. Suddenly all that fear made sense. Standing right in front of him was him, tall, thin, pointed eyebrows, all sharp angles, cold, dark eyes and bearded.
Reply
"Doctor," he spoke, taking a small step toward him as he illuminated the area in front of the MCO with his light. "Are you all right?"
The query was quick, professional and to the point. If McCoy encountered some sort of unusual creature or substance in the previous room, then they would need to get him treated as soon as possible. Otherwise, Spock wanted a report of what he found just now. If it was necessary, he would take a look himself, but for the time being he was mostly focused on the other officer.
Reply
And what was he doing here? How could he have known?
McCoy shuddered, held his head for a moment. His mind was burning. He couldn't think. He had the knife out and he didn't remember taking it out, but he must have at some point. He didn't answer the man but the message was clear: stay where you are. McCoy only held the knife between him and the Commander while he slid along the wall, trying to reach another door without turning away from Spock.
Reply
While it was difficult to tell whether some sort of creature had inflicted the injury, McCoy's current behavior was nothing short of erratic. Groping at the empty wall, trembling, gazing wide-eyed at Spock as though he were frightened of him...all signs pointed toward some sort of chemical agent running through his system. Whether it was a venom, gas, or artificially produced poison, however, hardly mattered right then. Their CMO was ill and posed a danger not only to others, but to himself as well.
"Doctor," he said again, slower this time as he took a careful, measured step toward him. "You are unwell. Lower your weapon."
Reply
He couldn't do it. Spock was a Vulcan. He was so much stronger than a man. Stronger and faster. Spock could take someone apart and not even blink at it, just rationalize it away. Taking the Commander on in a knife fight, when he wasn't even nearly as proficient in that as security or command? He was going to get torn apart. Or worse.
His head ached again.
The doctor's eyes darted around the room. He had to get out. Get out of this room, get off this ship. Before they took out everything that made him him. Get away from Spock.
McCoy remained still a second longer...
He suddenly bolted sideways for the door.
Reply
Swiftly moving ahead, Spock intercepted him. He only had a split second to take McCoy down and avoid sustaining any injuries. The Vulcan tried to grab for McCoy's arm, the one with the knife. At that same moment, he allowed for his flashlight to clatter to the floor, casting distorted shadows onto the wall. It limited his visibility, but it was necessary to free Spock's other hand for what he was about to do next.
Still retaining an accurate idea of where McCoy's shoulder was positioned, Spock's arm snaked through the darkness and attempted to apply pressure on the nerves that would render him unconscious.
Reply
I'll take them all down, take them all down with me, even if I have to kill them with my bare hands!, McCoy thought feverishly. He didn't see the fingers coming up behind him.
Less than a second later, he went down like a stone.
Reply
Leave a comment