More "Jeep Jockey Jumper"!
The next chapter may be a while coming, but here's this much for now.
Mild spoilers for SGA “The Kindred” and “The Seed.” The characterization of Marcus Simms belongs to marylinusca.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Can’t Be Too Careful with Wartime Epidemics
Newkirk awoke with a start. His bunk was shaking. A quick look around showed that his fellow prisoners were still asleep, so he looked down to Carter’s bunk. The American was pale, sweating, and shivering uncontrollably.
“Andrew!” Newkirk cried in alarm, jumping down to check on his friend.
“C-c-c-cold,” Carter moaned.
Kinch and LeBeau were at Newkirk’s side instantly, and the other prisoners were awake and paying attention. Olsen ran to get Hogan. Newkirk, for his part, pulled his blanket down from his bunk and wrapped it around Carter’s shoulders, then looked up at Kinch. “’E’s got a bad fever.”
LeBeau immediately headed to the sink to prepare a cold compress.
“Did something happen last night?” Kinch asked.
Newkirk explained the mishap with the satchel. “I can’t think that ’e could’ve picked it up anywhere else, unless it was ’ere in camp,” he concluded.
Hogan heard that much as he came out of his office. He sighed as he walked up to the bunk. “We can’t let him miss roll call. Pungenhorst would be in here in a hot second, probably beat him just for spite.”
The tremors passed as suddenly as they had begun, and Carter coughed weakly. “How long till roll call?” he asked, looking blearily at his commander.
Hogan looked at his watch. “Half an hour. Can you make it if you rest until then?”
Carter closed his eyes and nodded.
“Good boy. Newkirk?”
“I think I’m all right, sir,” Newkirk replied hesitantly, taking the compress from LeBeau and putting it on Carter’s forehead. It didn’t feel as icy cold to him as he knew it should have, but he didn’t think he felt feverish.
Hogan nodded. “Okay. Kinch, Simms, I want you to keep an eye on Carter while we’re out there. I don’t want to bother our guests unless we have to, but Sheppard did say something about Beckett being an MD. We may need him to give us some answers if it gets any worse.”
Kinch and the ever-silent Marcus Simms nodded to each other. “Roger, Colonel,” Kinch said.
A few of the prisoners got up and started dressing. Others decided to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. LeBeau managed to get Newkirk to sit at the table rather than on the edge of Carter’s bunk. Newkirk tried to keep watch over his bunkmate, but he ended up falling asleep again. He jumped when Kinch woke him five minutes before roll call.
“Sorry, mate,” he sighed. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“I guess so,” Kinch agreed, though the look he gave Newkirk expressed grave doubt about the Englishman’s health.
Newkirk got himself dressed and then woke Carter. With a groan, Carter got up and struggled into his jumpsuit. Newkirk helped him with his jacket and cap just before the whistle blew.
“C’mon, Andrew, you’ll make it,” Kinch said encouragingly, taking Carter’s arm and leading him outside.
As Schultz began counting down the formation, Newkirk suddenly noticed that the other prisoners were acting much colder than he felt. Either they’re all having me on, he thought, or I do have a fever! Then he realized with growing alarm that the cold air actually felt good on his skin, even though he could tell there was a bit of a bite to it; ordinarily he should need at least his greatcoat on a day like this.
Carter managed to stay upright on his own long enough for Schultz to finish the count; then his legs began to give way as another wave of tremors hit, and he suddenly stumbled against Simms. He began to murmur an apology, but a racking cough cut him off, and he just managed to clamp his handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Simms pulled Carter’s left arm around his shoulders to try to steady him. Before the force of the cough could knock both men over, Kinch threw an arm around Carter’s waist to counterbalance him.
“Was ist los?” Schultz asked, alarmed. “He looks terrible!”
The coughing fit and tremors passed, and Carter sagged between his teammates as only the truly ill can. Kinch shook his head gravely. “Might be the flu,” he said. “He’s burnin’ up. We’d better get him inside.”
“Ja, okay,” Schultz agreed.
“Newkirk, after roll call, go get Wilson from Barracks 9,” Hogan ordered.
“Right, sir,” Newkirk nodded.
“Repoooooooooort!” Klink yelled as he and Pungenhorst strode out of his office at the same time Kinch and Simms scooped Carter into a fireman’s carry and headed back toward the barracks door.
“All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant,” Schultz replied, saluting.
“Very good. Dis-missed!”
Pungenhorst, however, spotted the movement behind the rows of prisoners. “Halt! What is going on back there?” he demanded.
Schultz turned briefly to see what Pungenhorst was looking at. “Oh, Sgt. Carter is very sick. They are taking him inside, and Sgt. Wilson will take a look at him after roll call.”
“Sick, eh? Attempting to escape, more likely!” Pungenhorst pushed through the formation and stalked up to the three prisoners in question, but before he could strike or yell at Carter, Carter sneezed violently--directly in Pungenhorst’s face. Kinch and Simms managed to turn their faces aside just in time.
“Schultz, get the prisoners inside on the double,” Klink ordered hastily and moved to head Pungenhorst off.
As the prisoners crowded around Carter to prevent Pungenhorst from coming after him again, Newkirk ran off to Barracks 9 and Hogan caught Olsen by the elbow. “Get Beckett fast,” he hissed before following Klink.
“Yes, sir,” Olsen nodded and sprinted into the barracks. He barely paused long enough for the bunk to open before scurrying down the ladder and calling for Beckett.
“Aye, Sergeant, what is it?” Beckett called back as he dashed out of the side tunnel where he, Teyla, and Ronon had been sleeping.
“Carter’s sick. Newkirk’s gone to get our own medic, but apparently there was a mishap with some tissues last night....”
Immediately Beckett was all business. “Right. Get him settled and have your man take his vitals. I’ll get my gear and be right there.”
Teyla met him halfway with his pack. “Do you need our help?”
Beckett smiled his thanks and took his pack. “Not right now, thank you, love. But keep your radio on, and I’ll call if I do need you.”
“Very well,” Teyla nodded.
Olsen was waiting at the bottom of the ladder when Beckett got there. “Thought you might need a hand with your gear,” he explained. “Wilson’s with Carter now.”
“Thank you,” Beckett nodded, handing his pack to Olsen. “It’s not too heavy in a straight line, but I’ve not tried climbin’ much with it.”
Olsen filled Beckett in on as much as he could as they hurried into Hogan’s office, where Carter had been moved to the vacant lower bunk. Hogan already had the Lantean radio on and was informing the others of the problem. “He sneezed while Kinch and Simms were holding him, but Kinch doesn’t think he sneezed on them,” Hogan concluded.
Wilson looked up then and introduced himself to Beckett before turning back to his examination of Carter. “It’s some kind of virus, I think,” he stated. “Temp’s 102, chills, tremors, aches, cough, occasional sneeze.”
“That does sound familiar,” Beckett nodded. “I may not be able to tell for certain without a blood test, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the room, though, Sergeant--the technology I’m about to use is highly classified.”
“Okay,” Wilson agreed. “Thanks.”
As soon as the door closed behind Wilson, Beckett opened his pack and pulled out a tablet with a portable medical scanner. He quickly turned it on and, taking the scanner wand in his right hand, walked over to Carter.
“Whazzat?” Carter mumbled, frowning.
“It’s just a scanner, son,” Beckett said gently. “I won’t even have to touch you. Just lie still, now.” And he expertly ran the scanner an inch or so above the blanket Carter clutched.
“See anything, Doc?” Hogan asked.
“Aye, and it looks like he did pick it up in the Jumper,” Beckett sighed as he looked at the scan results. “Morbus horrens is a virus that’s quite common where we’re stationed, similar to mononucleosis or the flu except for the tremors that come with the chills. We’ve all had it at one time or another, and it’s quite possible that he picked it up from those tissues. He’ll be fine, but he’ll need rest and plenty of liquids for the next three to four days as well as aspirin to bring down the fever. And we need to watch the rest of you in case it spreads--casual contact’s no problem, but it can spread through coughing. The incubation period’s remarkably short, so we’ll know soon if it does spread. I’m afraid we’ve not developed a vaccine for it yet, and our antiviral drugs have proven ineffective, but we should be able to keep it contained in this barracks if Klink will agree to a quarantine.”
Newkirk looked worried. “I ’elped ’im clean up those tissues, Doctor.”
“Have you noticed anything?”
“I’m a bit warm.”
Beckett scanned him quickly. “Aye, I’m afraid you’ve got it too, son. If you take aspirin now, the symptoms shouldn’t hit as severely. Kinch, Simms, you should start taking aspirin as well just to be safe.”
“Oh, great,” Hogan groaned. “What are we supposed to tell Klink?”
The sound of fingers clicking came over the speaker, followed by McKay saying, “Viral meningitis. Colleges have meningitis epidemics all the time; why not a POW camp?”
Beckett’s eyes met Hogan’s and went wide as both grasped McKay’s plan.
LeBeau, however, frowned. “Why would we say that?”
“We don’t,” Hogan replied. “We talk Klink into calling the Red Cross; Baker takes the call; we get the good doctor here and his two Hawaiian assistants into camp; and they tell Klink it’s meningitis.”
“What for?” Newkirk pressed.
“To quarantine the whole camp,” Sheppard answered. “It’s a perfect alibi for all of us for when we blow the lab. You guys are too sick to escape, and we law-abiding Germans would never break quarantine. Plus, Marya and Pungenhorst would be stuck here as witnesses.”
Hogan turned to his radio man. “Kinch, get in touch with the Underground, tell ’em we need a car. Thirty-second transmission, use the emergency code.”
“Right,” Kinch nodded. “C’mon, Doc.”
Beckett patted Carter’s shoulder and followed Kinch back down into the tunnel. Newkirk followed them out to find some aspirin for himself and Simms.
Carter chuckled suddenly.
“What’s so funny?” LeBeau asked.
“Sneezed on Pungenhorst,” Carter mumbled.
The prisoners could almost see the fiendish grin on Zelenka’s face when he said, “Dobre. Thank you, Carter.”
“I’d better get Wilson over to Klink’s,” Hogan stated. “Hogan out.” He then switched off the radio and unplugged the coffee pot. “LeBeau, get over to Barracks 3 and have Baker stand by on the switchboard, then get Teyla and Ronon to Hopkins in Barracks 5. Once Kinch comes back up, I want him resting until Beckett clears him.”
“Oui, mon colonel,” LeBeau replied and hurried off to fetch Baker.
“A virus?!” Klink gasped.
“Yes, sir, and it looks like a bad one,” Wilson nodded. “I can’t be sure, but it might even be meningitis... his neck’s kind of stiff. And now Newkirk has a fever, too. I don’t want to start a panic....”
“But you think it could be catching?”
“I’m afraid it might be.”
Pungenhorst went pale and muttered something unpleasant about Carter.
“Col. Pungenhorst, I give you my word as an officer that Carter did not sneeze on you intentionally,” Hogan stated for the fifth time.
“There’s a medical unit in Stalag 4,” Klink said, mostly to himself. “Fräulein Hilda!”
Klink’s secretary came to the door. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”
“Get me Stalag 4 on the phone at once. I want to speak to the medical officer.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.”
Baker had never considered a radio silence order to preclude listening to the BBC; after all, radio detectors looked for transmitters, not receivers. So he knew that when he replied to Klink’s request for assistance, the answer he gave would be fairly close to what the real Stalag 4 would say:
“I’m sorry, Colonel, but the Allies are closing in on us. We’ve been ordered to evacuate to Stalag 16.”
“But Major Salzmann, we have an emergency here! Can’t your medical team come here first and then go to Stalag 16?”
“Orders are orders, Col. Klink. I’m sorry.” Baker paused. “I might be able to transfer your call to a Red Cross unit, though.”
“Then please try, Major!” Klink sounded genuinely panicked.
“Moment, bitte,” said Baker. He waited several seconds, then cued Beckett.
“International Red Cross, Dr. Beckett speaking.”
“Yes, Doctor, this is Col. Klink of Stalag 13. We have an emergency here; one of our prisoners appears to have come down with some sort of virus, and there are signs that it’s starting to spread throughout the camp.”
“I see. You’re near Hammelburg, is that right?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Beckett paused as if looking something up. “I can be there in... an hour and a half, looks like. I’ll need to bring two of my nurses with me.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t let anyone in or out until we get there, and confine your prisoners to their barracks; we could have an epidemic on our hands.”
“Understood. Thank you, Doctor.”
“Goodbye, Colonel.” Beckett looked at his watch for real as Baker disconnected the phone. “Right, I suppose I’d best change out o’ this uniform.” He paused, then looked at Baker in alarm. “Where are we going to find a nurse’s uniform to fit Ronon?!”
“Relax, Doc,” Baker smiled. “Newkirk’s not the only tailor in camp; there’s another in Barracks 5 who can handle it. Ronon and Teyla are there now.”
Beckett heaved a sigh of relief.
“By the way, Doc, does this disease have an English name?”
Beckett thought for a moment. The medical staff hadn’t tried to choose among or translate the various Pegasus names for the virus, though he learned during his post-stasis recovery at the SGC that Dr. Lee had offered a Sindarin translation, caelgirith, when someone came down with it during the standard Midway quarantine period. But a childhood memory suddenly tickled the back of Beckett’s mind, and he managed to keep a straight face as he replied, “Phtheezles.”
Baker laughed uproariously. Beckett grinned and headed off to change.
Just over an hour later, Sheppard called the two guards who were stationed outside the tent and sent them to look for an imaginary intruder in a direction that would lead them away from the road. As soon as they were gone, Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon made their break for the woods. The guards returned fifteen minutes later, and five minutes after that a car with Red Cross markings pulled up to the front gate and was admitted immediately.
Klink hurried out of his office just in time to see a bronzed young giant--too fit to be a nurse, with tattoos and a goatee and hair that, while pulled back out of the way, looked to be in some kind of long braids--coming around the car while the doctor looked for something in the trunk. The giant opened the car door to let out an equally bronzed female nurse whose beauty was matched only by a poise that screamed Noli me tangere.
He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt very afraid.
The doctor took his bag out of the trunk and came forward. “Col. Klink? Carson Beckett.”
Klink tore his eyes away from the nurses and shook Beckett’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Doctor.”
“These are my assistants, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan.”
“How do you do, Colonel?” Fräulein Emmagan nodded pleasantly.
Dex simply looked at him as if he were a bug. Klink gulped.
“Colonel, we should get started right away,” Beckett stated.
“Yes, of course,” Klink replied hurriedly. “Schultz!”
Schultz bustled out of the office. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”
“Schultz, take Dr. Beckett and his assistants to Barracks 2 and give them whatever help they need.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.” Schultz saluted. “This way, please, Doctor.”
Beckett made Schultz stay outside while he, Teyla, and Ronon put on masks and gloves and went in. Hogan met them at the door, grim-faced.
“The shakes have hit Newkirk,” he reported, leading them to his office. “We moved him in here with Carter.”
“Aye, best to keep them isolated as much as you can,” Beckett nodded. “Anyone else showing symptoms?”
“No, not so far.”
Beckett nodded and retrieved the scanner he’d stashed in Hogan’s closet. Newkirk involuntarily flinched away from his hand, but he stayed still long enough for Beckett to scan him for vital signs before curling miserably into a ball. Carter looked to be asleep when Beckett checked his vitals, but his eyes cracked open just as Beckett finished.
“’Msorry, Doc,” he whispered. “’S my fault... fouled up the mission....”
Beckett pulled down his mask and smiled gently at him. “Just rest, son. You’ve not fouled up anything yet.”
Moving back into the main room, Beckett issued a general caveat about the scanner being classified, scanned Kinch and Simms, then scanned all the other prisoners for good measure. “So far, so good,” he reported when he finished. “But it’ll still be a few hours until we know for sure if anyone else has been affected. Wash your hands well after you’ve been in to check on them, and keep the door closed as much as ye can.”
“We’ll do that,” Hogan nodded.
Beckett checked his watch. “I’d need a few more minutes if I were to do a spinal tap. So, Colonel, with all this goin’ on, have you figured a way to destroy that lab yet?”
Hogan shook his head. “Not yet. I have thought about it, but apart from using the Jumper, I haven’t come to any conclusions yet. We can’t radio Hohenstaufen, and we don’t have another way to get there from here.”
“Does the Jumper have weapons?” Kinch asked.
“Aye, it fires an energy weapon called a drone,” Beckett replied.
“Would not the energy signature from a drone be easily detected?” Teyla frowned.
Hogan chuckled in spite of himself. “Our technology’s not that advanced yet.”
“McKay would say we’d need to lower the shield over the lab so the radiation doesn’t hurt anyone,” Ronon noted.
“Aye, probably,” Beckett agreed. “We’d have to time it carefully to have time to switch back to the cloak and get away, but I suppose it could work.”
“It’s a place to start, anyway,” Hogan nodded. “We’ll let McKay and Zelenka hash out the details.”
After chatting a bit longer about their cover story and how to handle Klink, Beckett led Hogan, Ronon, and Teyla to the door and called for Schultz.
“Ja, Herr Doktor?” Schultz replied.
“Sergeant, I understand there are several guests staying here,” Beckett began.
Schultz nodded. “Ja, Col. Pungenhorst and the Russian woman are in the VIP quarters, and Col. Schäfer, Dr. Zelenka, and Dr. McKay are in that tent outside the fence.”
“Would you please bring Col. Pungenhorst and Col. Schäfer to Col. Klink’s office? I’d rather not have to explain this more than once.”
“At once, Herr Doktor.”
“Doctor, I can fetch Col. Pungenhorst if the sergeant can show me where they are,” Teyla offered.
“Aye, that would save a bit o’ time,” Beckett agreed.
Schultz pointed out the VIP quarters to her, and they both left. Watching them go, Beckett looked out across the compound, and his breath caught for a moment as an emotional flashback hit. He didn’t know why.
Ronon’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey. You okay with this?”
Beckett took a deep breath and let it out again, then nodded. “Aye. Michael’s labs were nothing like this.”
“Still....”
Blue eyes looked up into brown eyes, and something unspoken passed between the former runner and the former prisoner. Ronon gave Beckett’s shoulder a supportive squeeze, and Beckett squeezed Ronon’s wrist in return.
“Thank you,” Beckett whispered.
Ronon just smiled and patted his shoulder once more for good measure.
Beckett squared his shoulders. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”
And together he and Ronon marched into Klink’s office just as Teyla arrived with Marya and Pungenhorst. Hogan was already waiting, and Schultz arrived with Sheppard and Zelenka while Klink was still making introductions.
“Col. Schäfer does not speak English,” Zelenka explained as he shook hands with Beckett. “Dr. McKay did not think he could explain the medical terms to him.”
While Teyla had her diplomatic-mission face on, Ronon decided not to make eye contact with Sheppard any more than necessary. He knew they’d give themselves away if he didn’t glower at every German in the room, including his disguised commander.
“Now, Doctor,” Klink said, “please tell us what you’ve found.”
“There’s only so much I can tell from a spinal tap without sending it to a lab,” Beckett stated, “but I’m afraid it is viral meningitis. We’ll need to quarantine the camp to prevent anyone from carrying it into town.”
Klink and Pungenhorst both looked at Zelenka.
“Von der Rückenmarksflüssigkeit kann ich nur wenig ohne Laborwerte feststellen,” Zelenka translated, “aber leider ist es doch Viralhirnhautentzündung. Wir müssen das Stalag unter Quarantäne stellen, damit niemand das Virus ins Hammelburg trägt.”
Pungenhorst gulped and paled.
Klink took a deep breath and let it out again. “Hirnhautentzündung,” he repeated. “Would you explain the disease to us, Dr. Beckett?”
Beckett surreptitiously kept an eye on Pungenhorst as Zelenka translated his report and noted every gulp, every twitch. He’d seen that kind of reaction before--from McKay. Our Gestapo friend is a full-blown hypochondriac! Well, we can toy with him a bit, at least....
“How long will the camp need to be quarantined?” Klink asked when Beckett had finished.
“Probably ten days just to be safe,” Beckett replied. “If we can keep it contained in Barracks 2, we can lift the quarantine sooner, but we probably won’t know the extent of the problem for several more days. The usual incubation period for the virus is three to seven days. O’course, if Carter and Newkirk were infected at the same time, say from dirty shower water, we may start seeing more cases within the next twenty-four hours.”
Pungenhorst frowned. “That prisoner sneezed on me just three hours ago, Doctor. Why am I beginning to feel ill?”
Beckett shrugged. “Just because you’ve been exposed to Sgt. Carter doesn’t mean you’ll actually come down with meningitis as well. You may have picked up something else that’s going around in Berlin. But if you are sick, it’s best that you be isolated as much as possible to prevent your own bug from spreading.”
Klink took another deep breath and turned to the camp map to try to find someplace to put everyone.
“Colonel, could you put my team and the doctor’s team in an empty barracks or the recreation hall?” Sheppard suggested through Zelenka. “Then Marya could have your quarters and Col. Pungenhorst could remain in the VIP quarters.”
Klink looked around at the assembled company. “I suppose so, if Fräulein Emmagan does not object.”
“I have seen front-line duty, Colonel,” Teyla stated proudly. “I do not mind sleeping in the same room with men.”
“Actually, now that I think of it...” Klink checked the map again. “Yes, Barracks 4 is empty, and that has separate officers’ quarters. Fräulein Emmagan may choose to sleep in there.”
“That is an admirable solution,” Teyla replied, bowing her head in agreement. “Is that also acceptable to you, Col. Schäfer?”
Sheppard waited for Zelenka’s translation before similarly bowing his own head.
“Any objections, Hogan?” Klink asked.
Hogan sighed. “It is technically against the Geneva Convention, but I don’t suppose we have much choice.”
“Excellent!” Klink grinned, clearly relieved. “Schultz, escort Col. Pungenhorst back to the VIP quarters and send Langenscheidt to prepare Barracks 4.”
Schultz snapped to attention. “Jawohl, Herr Kommandant. At once.”
“We should check the other barracks now,” Beckett declared. “If Col. Hogan could show us around?”
“Yes, yes, carry on,” Klink nodded.
“We should go back to work also,” Zelenka stated. “It will not take us long to have your quarters ready for Marya to move in.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Klink was clearly ready for everyone to be out of his office.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the guards, Marya softly asked Beckett, “Is Pungenhorst contagious?”
“He is now,” Beckett replied. “But so long as ye didnae kiss him after roll call this morning, you should be fine.” And he gave her the briefest of winks.
Marya huffed in relief and hurried after Schultz and Pungenhorst.
“Does Barracks 4 have a tunnel entrance?” Teyla whispered to Hogan as they made their way to Barracks 1.
Hogan grimaced. “No.”
A/N: As it turns out, mono, flu, and viral meningitis all have similar symptoms--high fever, fatigue, and body aches are common to all three, and sneezing and coughing can occur with any of them. The stiff neck connected with meningitis wouldn’t be hard to fake if the Germans got too close, and although a true diagnosis of viral meningitis would require several lab tests, Beckett would theoretically be able to tell that something was wrong because the spinal fluid would be cloudy. “Phtheezles” comes from the poem “Sneezles” in Now We Are Six by A. A. Milne.
SGA notes: When Sateda was destroyed, Ronon was captured by the Wraith and forced to become a runner--the Wraith implanted a tracking device in his back, turned him loose, and hunted him throughout the galaxy for seven years. Team Sheppard rescued him at the beginning of Season 2. Midway was a space station that formed the keystone of the intergalactic Stargate bridge constructed during SGA Season 3. Dr. Lee was in charge of it from its completion at the beginning of Season 4 to its destruction late that same season. After Atlantis was overwhelmed with a Kirsan fever epidemic in “Tabula Rasa,” Stargate Command ordered a 24-hour quarantine at Midway for all travelers from Pegasus to prevent exotic diseases from being carried back to Earth.
The locations of the Stalags in Hogan’s Heroes are entirely fictional. There was a real Stalag 13 (Stalag Luft XIII C) outside the real town of Hammelburg in Bavaria, but the show moves both camp and town to the Düsseldorf area. “Klink’s Old Flame” locates Stalag 4 in France, but by October 1944 very little of France was still in German hands, and though the Allies encountered stiff resistance throughout October, they had reached the German border before the Battle of the Bulge.
SGC: Stargate Command
Morbus horrens = shuddering sickness (Latin)
Caelgirith = shuddering sickness (Sindarin)
Dobre = good (Czech)
Next
Mild spoilers for SGA “The Kindred” and “The Seed.” The characterization of Marcus Simms belongs to marylinusca.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Can’t Be Too Careful with Wartime Epidemics
Newkirk awoke with a start. His bunk was shaking. A quick look around showed that his fellow prisoners were still asleep, so he looked down to Carter’s bunk. The American was pale, sweating, and shivering uncontrollably.
“Andrew!” Newkirk cried in alarm, jumping down to check on his friend.
“C-c-c-cold,” Carter moaned.
Kinch and LeBeau were at Newkirk’s side instantly, and the other prisoners were awake and paying attention. Olsen ran to get Hogan. Newkirk, for his part, pulled his blanket down from his bunk and wrapped it around Carter’s shoulders, then looked up at Kinch. “’E’s got a bad fever.”
LeBeau immediately headed to the sink to prepare a cold compress.
“Did something happen last night?” Kinch asked.
Newkirk explained the mishap with the satchel. “I can’t think that ’e could’ve picked it up anywhere else, unless it was ’ere in camp,” he concluded.
Hogan heard that much as he came out of his office. He sighed as he walked up to the bunk. “We can’t let him miss roll call. Pungenhorst would be in here in a hot second, probably beat him just for spite.”
The tremors passed as suddenly as they had begun, and Carter coughed weakly. “How long till roll call?” he asked, looking blearily at his commander.
Hogan looked at his watch. “Half an hour. Can you make it if you rest until then?”
Carter closed his eyes and nodded.
“Good boy. Newkirk?”
“I think I’m all right, sir,” Newkirk replied hesitantly, taking the compress from LeBeau and putting it on Carter’s forehead. It didn’t feel as icy cold to him as he knew it should have, but he didn’t think he felt feverish.
Hogan nodded. “Okay. Kinch, Simms, I want you to keep an eye on Carter while we’re out there. I don’t want to bother our guests unless we have to, but Sheppard did say something about Beckett being an MD. We may need him to give us some answers if it gets any worse.”
Kinch and the ever-silent Marcus Simms nodded to each other. “Roger, Colonel,” Kinch said.
A few of the prisoners got up and started dressing. Others decided to get a few more minutes of shut-eye. LeBeau managed to get Newkirk to sit at the table rather than on the edge of Carter’s bunk. Newkirk tried to keep watch over his bunkmate, but he ended up falling asleep again. He jumped when Kinch woke him five minutes before roll call.
“Sorry, mate,” he sighed. “Guess I’m more tired than I thought.”
“I guess so,” Kinch agreed, though the look he gave Newkirk expressed grave doubt about the Englishman’s health.
Newkirk got himself dressed and then woke Carter. With a groan, Carter got up and struggled into his jumpsuit. Newkirk helped him with his jacket and cap just before the whistle blew.
“C’mon, Andrew, you’ll make it,” Kinch said encouragingly, taking Carter’s arm and leading him outside.
As Schultz began counting down the formation, Newkirk suddenly noticed that the other prisoners were acting much colder than he felt. Either they’re all having me on, he thought, or I do have a fever! Then he realized with growing alarm that the cold air actually felt good on his skin, even though he could tell there was a bit of a bite to it; ordinarily he should need at least his greatcoat on a day like this.
Carter managed to stay upright on his own long enough for Schultz to finish the count; then his legs began to give way as another wave of tremors hit, and he suddenly stumbled against Simms. He began to murmur an apology, but a racking cough cut him off, and he just managed to clamp his handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Simms pulled Carter’s left arm around his shoulders to try to steady him. Before the force of the cough could knock both men over, Kinch threw an arm around Carter’s waist to counterbalance him.
“Was ist los?” Schultz asked, alarmed. “He looks terrible!”
The coughing fit and tremors passed, and Carter sagged between his teammates as only the truly ill can. Kinch shook his head gravely. “Might be the flu,” he said. “He’s burnin’ up. We’d better get him inside.”
“Ja, okay,” Schultz agreed.
“Newkirk, after roll call, go get Wilson from Barracks 9,” Hogan ordered.
“Right, sir,” Newkirk nodded.
“Repoooooooooort!” Klink yelled as he and Pungenhorst strode out of his office at the same time Kinch and Simms scooped Carter into a fireman’s carry and headed back toward the barracks door.
“All present and accounted for, Herr Kommandant,” Schultz replied, saluting.
“Very good. Dis-missed!”
Pungenhorst, however, spotted the movement behind the rows of prisoners. “Halt! What is going on back there?” he demanded.
Schultz turned briefly to see what Pungenhorst was looking at. “Oh, Sgt. Carter is very sick. They are taking him inside, and Sgt. Wilson will take a look at him after roll call.”
“Sick, eh? Attempting to escape, more likely!” Pungenhorst pushed through the formation and stalked up to the three prisoners in question, but before he could strike or yell at Carter, Carter sneezed violently--directly in Pungenhorst’s face. Kinch and Simms managed to turn their faces aside just in time.
“Schultz, get the prisoners inside on the double,” Klink ordered hastily and moved to head Pungenhorst off.
As the prisoners crowded around Carter to prevent Pungenhorst from coming after him again, Newkirk ran off to Barracks 9 and Hogan caught Olsen by the elbow. “Get Beckett fast,” he hissed before following Klink.
“Yes, sir,” Olsen nodded and sprinted into the barracks. He barely paused long enough for the bunk to open before scurrying down the ladder and calling for Beckett.
“Aye, Sergeant, what is it?” Beckett called back as he dashed out of the side tunnel where he, Teyla, and Ronon had been sleeping.
“Carter’s sick. Newkirk’s gone to get our own medic, but apparently there was a mishap with some tissues last night....”
Immediately Beckett was all business. “Right. Get him settled and have your man take his vitals. I’ll get my gear and be right there.”
Teyla met him halfway with his pack. “Do you need our help?”
Beckett smiled his thanks and took his pack. “Not right now, thank you, love. But keep your radio on, and I’ll call if I do need you.”
“Very well,” Teyla nodded.
Olsen was waiting at the bottom of the ladder when Beckett got there. “Thought you might need a hand with your gear,” he explained. “Wilson’s with Carter now.”
“Thank you,” Beckett nodded, handing his pack to Olsen. “It’s not too heavy in a straight line, but I’ve not tried climbin’ much with it.”
Olsen filled Beckett in on as much as he could as they hurried into Hogan’s office, where Carter had been moved to the vacant lower bunk. Hogan already had the Lantean radio on and was informing the others of the problem. “He sneezed while Kinch and Simms were holding him, but Kinch doesn’t think he sneezed on them,” Hogan concluded.
Wilson looked up then and introduced himself to Beckett before turning back to his examination of Carter. “It’s some kind of virus, I think,” he stated. “Temp’s 102, chills, tremors, aches, cough, occasional sneeze.”
“That does sound familiar,” Beckett nodded. “I may not be able to tell for certain without a blood test, but I’ll see what I can do. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave the room, though, Sergeant--the technology I’m about to use is highly classified.”
“Okay,” Wilson agreed. “Thanks.”
As soon as the door closed behind Wilson, Beckett opened his pack and pulled out a tablet with a portable medical scanner. He quickly turned it on and, taking the scanner wand in his right hand, walked over to Carter.
“Whazzat?” Carter mumbled, frowning.
“It’s just a scanner, son,” Beckett said gently. “I won’t even have to touch you. Just lie still, now.” And he expertly ran the scanner an inch or so above the blanket Carter clutched.
“See anything, Doc?” Hogan asked.
“Aye, and it looks like he did pick it up in the Jumper,” Beckett sighed as he looked at the scan results. “Morbus horrens is a virus that’s quite common where we’re stationed, similar to mononucleosis or the flu except for the tremors that come with the chills. We’ve all had it at one time or another, and it’s quite possible that he picked it up from those tissues. He’ll be fine, but he’ll need rest and plenty of liquids for the next three to four days as well as aspirin to bring down the fever. And we need to watch the rest of you in case it spreads--casual contact’s no problem, but it can spread through coughing. The incubation period’s remarkably short, so we’ll know soon if it does spread. I’m afraid we’ve not developed a vaccine for it yet, and our antiviral drugs have proven ineffective, but we should be able to keep it contained in this barracks if Klink will agree to a quarantine.”
Newkirk looked worried. “I ’elped ’im clean up those tissues, Doctor.”
“Have you noticed anything?”
“I’m a bit warm.”
Beckett scanned him quickly. “Aye, I’m afraid you’ve got it too, son. If you take aspirin now, the symptoms shouldn’t hit as severely. Kinch, Simms, you should start taking aspirin as well just to be safe.”
“Oh, great,” Hogan groaned. “What are we supposed to tell Klink?”
The sound of fingers clicking came over the speaker, followed by McKay saying, “Viral meningitis. Colleges have meningitis epidemics all the time; why not a POW camp?”
Beckett’s eyes met Hogan’s and went wide as both grasped McKay’s plan.
LeBeau, however, frowned. “Why would we say that?”
“We don’t,” Hogan replied. “We talk Klink into calling the Red Cross; Baker takes the call; we get the good doctor here and his two Hawaiian assistants into camp; and they tell Klink it’s meningitis.”
“What for?” Newkirk pressed.
“To quarantine the whole camp,” Sheppard answered. “It’s a perfect alibi for all of us for when we blow the lab. You guys are too sick to escape, and we law-abiding Germans would never break quarantine. Plus, Marya and Pungenhorst would be stuck here as witnesses.”
Hogan turned to his radio man. “Kinch, get in touch with the Underground, tell ’em we need a car. Thirty-second transmission, use the emergency code.”
“Right,” Kinch nodded. “C’mon, Doc.”
Beckett patted Carter’s shoulder and followed Kinch back down into the tunnel. Newkirk followed them out to find some aspirin for himself and Simms.
Carter chuckled suddenly.
“What’s so funny?” LeBeau asked.
“Sneezed on Pungenhorst,” Carter mumbled.
The prisoners could almost see the fiendish grin on Zelenka’s face when he said, “Dobre. Thank you, Carter.”
“I’d better get Wilson over to Klink’s,” Hogan stated. “Hogan out.” He then switched off the radio and unplugged the coffee pot. “LeBeau, get over to Barracks 3 and have Baker stand by on the switchboard, then get Teyla and Ronon to Hopkins in Barracks 5. Once Kinch comes back up, I want him resting until Beckett clears him.”
“Oui, mon colonel,” LeBeau replied and hurried off to fetch Baker.
“A virus?!” Klink gasped.
“Yes, sir, and it looks like a bad one,” Wilson nodded. “I can’t be sure, but it might even be meningitis... his neck’s kind of stiff. And now Newkirk has a fever, too. I don’t want to start a panic....”
“But you think it could be catching?”
“I’m afraid it might be.”
Pungenhorst went pale and muttered something unpleasant about Carter.
“Col. Pungenhorst, I give you my word as an officer that Carter did not sneeze on you intentionally,” Hogan stated for the fifth time.
“There’s a medical unit in Stalag 4,” Klink said, mostly to himself. “Fräulein Hilda!”
Klink’s secretary came to the door. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”
“Get me Stalag 4 on the phone at once. I want to speak to the medical officer.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.”
Baker had never considered a radio silence order to preclude listening to the BBC; after all, radio detectors looked for transmitters, not receivers. So he knew that when he replied to Klink’s request for assistance, the answer he gave would be fairly close to what the real Stalag 4 would say:
“I’m sorry, Colonel, but the Allies are closing in on us. We’ve been ordered to evacuate to Stalag 16.”
“But Major Salzmann, we have an emergency here! Can’t your medical team come here first and then go to Stalag 16?”
“Orders are orders, Col. Klink. I’m sorry.” Baker paused. “I might be able to transfer your call to a Red Cross unit, though.”
“Then please try, Major!” Klink sounded genuinely panicked.
“Moment, bitte,” said Baker. He waited several seconds, then cued Beckett.
“International Red Cross, Dr. Beckett speaking.”
“Yes, Doctor, this is Col. Klink of Stalag 13. We have an emergency here; one of our prisoners appears to have come down with some sort of virus, and there are signs that it’s starting to spread throughout the camp.”
“I see. You’re near Hammelburg, is that right?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Beckett paused as if looking something up. “I can be there in... an hour and a half, looks like. I’ll need to bring two of my nurses with me.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t let anyone in or out until we get there, and confine your prisoners to their barracks; we could have an epidemic on our hands.”
“Understood. Thank you, Doctor.”
“Goodbye, Colonel.” Beckett looked at his watch for real as Baker disconnected the phone. “Right, I suppose I’d best change out o’ this uniform.” He paused, then looked at Baker in alarm. “Where are we going to find a nurse’s uniform to fit Ronon?!”
“Relax, Doc,” Baker smiled. “Newkirk’s not the only tailor in camp; there’s another in Barracks 5 who can handle it. Ronon and Teyla are there now.”
Beckett heaved a sigh of relief.
“By the way, Doc, does this disease have an English name?”
Beckett thought for a moment. The medical staff hadn’t tried to choose among or translate the various Pegasus names for the virus, though he learned during his post-stasis recovery at the SGC that Dr. Lee had offered a Sindarin translation, caelgirith, when someone came down with it during the standard Midway quarantine period. But a childhood memory suddenly tickled the back of Beckett’s mind, and he managed to keep a straight face as he replied, “Phtheezles.”
Baker laughed uproariously. Beckett grinned and headed off to change.
Just over an hour later, Sheppard called the two guards who were stationed outside the tent and sent them to look for an imaginary intruder in a direction that would lead them away from the road. As soon as they were gone, Beckett, Teyla, and Ronon made their break for the woods. The guards returned fifteen minutes later, and five minutes after that a car with Red Cross markings pulled up to the front gate and was admitted immediately.
Klink hurried out of his office just in time to see a bronzed young giant--too fit to be a nurse, with tattoos and a goatee and hair that, while pulled back out of the way, looked to be in some kind of long braids--coming around the car while the doctor looked for something in the trunk. The giant opened the car door to let out an equally bronzed female nurse whose beauty was matched only by a poise that screamed Noli me tangere.
He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt very afraid.
The doctor took his bag out of the trunk and came forward. “Col. Klink? Carson Beckett.”
Klink tore his eyes away from the nurses and shook Beckett’s hand. “Thank you for coming, Doctor.”
“These are my assistants, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan.”
“How do you do, Colonel?” Fräulein Emmagan nodded pleasantly.
Dex simply looked at him as if he were a bug. Klink gulped.
“Colonel, we should get started right away,” Beckett stated.
“Yes, of course,” Klink replied hurriedly. “Schultz!”
Schultz bustled out of the office. “Yes, Herr Kommandant?”
“Schultz, take Dr. Beckett and his assistants to Barracks 2 and give them whatever help they need.”
“Jawohl, Herr Kommandant.” Schultz saluted. “This way, please, Doctor.”
Beckett made Schultz stay outside while he, Teyla, and Ronon put on masks and gloves and went in. Hogan met them at the door, grim-faced.
“The shakes have hit Newkirk,” he reported, leading them to his office. “We moved him in here with Carter.”
“Aye, best to keep them isolated as much as you can,” Beckett nodded. “Anyone else showing symptoms?”
“No, not so far.”
Beckett nodded and retrieved the scanner he’d stashed in Hogan’s closet. Newkirk involuntarily flinched away from his hand, but he stayed still long enough for Beckett to scan him for vital signs before curling miserably into a ball. Carter looked to be asleep when Beckett checked his vitals, but his eyes cracked open just as Beckett finished.
“’Msorry, Doc,” he whispered. “’S my fault... fouled up the mission....”
Beckett pulled down his mask and smiled gently at him. “Just rest, son. You’ve not fouled up anything yet.”
Moving back into the main room, Beckett issued a general caveat about the scanner being classified, scanned Kinch and Simms, then scanned all the other prisoners for good measure. “So far, so good,” he reported when he finished. “But it’ll still be a few hours until we know for sure if anyone else has been affected. Wash your hands well after you’ve been in to check on them, and keep the door closed as much as ye can.”
“We’ll do that,” Hogan nodded.
Beckett checked his watch. “I’d need a few more minutes if I were to do a spinal tap. So, Colonel, with all this goin’ on, have you figured a way to destroy that lab yet?”
Hogan shook his head. “Not yet. I have thought about it, but apart from using the Jumper, I haven’t come to any conclusions yet. We can’t radio Hohenstaufen, and we don’t have another way to get there from here.”
“Does the Jumper have weapons?” Kinch asked.
“Aye, it fires an energy weapon called a drone,” Beckett replied.
“Would not the energy signature from a drone be easily detected?” Teyla frowned.
Hogan chuckled in spite of himself. “Our technology’s not that advanced yet.”
“McKay would say we’d need to lower the shield over the lab so the radiation doesn’t hurt anyone,” Ronon noted.
“Aye, probably,” Beckett agreed. “We’d have to time it carefully to have time to switch back to the cloak and get away, but I suppose it could work.”
“It’s a place to start, anyway,” Hogan nodded. “We’ll let McKay and Zelenka hash out the details.”
After chatting a bit longer about their cover story and how to handle Klink, Beckett led Hogan, Ronon, and Teyla to the door and called for Schultz.
“Ja, Herr Doktor?” Schultz replied.
“Sergeant, I understand there are several guests staying here,” Beckett began.
Schultz nodded. “Ja, Col. Pungenhorst and the Russian woman are in the VIP quarters, and Col. Schäfer, Dr. Zelenka, and Dr. McKay are in that tent outside the fence.”
“Would you please bring Col. Pungenhorst and Col. Schäfer to Col. Klink’s office? I’d rather not have to explain this more than once.”
“At once, Herr Doktor.”
“Doctor, I can fetch Col. Pungenhorst if the sergeant can show me where they are,” Teyla offered.
“Aye, that would save a bit o’ time,” Beckett agreed.
Schultz pointed out the VIP quarters to her, and they both left. Watching them go, Beckett looked out across the compound, and his breath caught for a moment as an emotional flashback hit. He didn’t know why.
Ronon’s hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey. You okay with this?”
Beckett took a deep breath and let it out again, then nodded. “Aye. Michael’s labs were nothing like this.”
“Still....”
Blue eyes looked up into brown eyes, and something unspoken passed between the former runner and the former prisoner. Ronon gave Beckett’s shoulder a supportive squeeze, and Beckett squeezed Ronon’s wrist in return.
“Thank you,” Beckett whispered.
Ronon just smiled and patted his shoulder once more for good measure.
Beckett squared his shoulders. “Right. Let’s get this over with.”
And together he and Ronon marched into Klink’s office just as Teyla arrived with Marya and Pungenhorst. Hogan was already waiting, and Schultz arrived with Sheppard and Zelenka while Klink was still making introductions.
“Col. Schäfer does not speak English,” Zelenka explained as he shook hands with Beckett. “Dr. McKay did not think he could explain the medical terms to him.”
While Teyla had her diplomatic-mission face on, Ronon decided not to make eye contact with Sheppard any more than necessary. He knew they’d give themselves away if he didn’t glower at every German in the room, including his disguised commander.
“Now, Doctor,” Klink said, “please tell us what you’ve found.”
“There’s only so much I can tell from a spinal tap without sending it to a lab,” Beckett stated, “but I’m afraid it is viral meningitis. We’ll need to quarantine the camp to prevent anyone from carrying it into town.”
Klink and Pungenhorst both looked at Zelenka.
“Von der Rückenmarksflüssigkeit kann ich nur wenig ohne Laborwerte feststellen,” Zelenka translated, “aber leider ist es doch Viralhirnhautentzündung. Wir müssen das Stalag unter Quarantäne stellen, damit niemand das Virus ins Hammelburg trägt.”
Pungenhorst gulped and paled.
Klink took a deep breath and let it out again. “Hirnhautentzündung,” he repeated. “Would you explain the disease to us, Dr. Beckett?”
Beckett surreptitiously kept an eye on Pungenhorst as Zelenka translated his report and noted every gulp, every twitch. He’d seen that kind of reaction before--from McKay. Our Gestapo friend is a full-blown hypochondriac! Well, we can toy with him a bit, at least....
“How long will the camp need to be quarantined?” Klink asked when Beckett had finished.
“Probably ten days just to be safe,” Beckett replied. “If we can keep it contained in Barracks 2, we can lift the quarantine sooner, but we probably won’t know the extent of the problem for several more days. The usual incubation period for the virus is three to seven days. O’course, if Carter and Newkirk were infected at the same time, say from dirty shower water, we may start seeing more cases within the next twenty-four hours.”
Pungenhorst frowned. “That prisoner sneezed on me just three hours ago, Doctor. Why am I beginning to feel ill?”
Beckett shrugged. “Just because you’ve been exposed to Sgt. Carter doesn’t mean you’ll actually come down with meningitis as well. You may have picked up something else that’s going around in Berlin. But if you are sick, it’s best that you be isolated as much as possible to prevent your own bug from spreading.”
Klink took another deep breath and turned to the camp map to try to find someplace to put everyone.
“Colonel, could you put my team and the doctor’s team in an empty barracks or the recreation hall?” Sheppard suggested through Zelenka. “Then Marya could have your quarters and Col. Pungenhorst could remain in the VIP quarters.”
Klink looked around at the assembled company. “I suppose so, if Fräulein Emmagan does not object.”
“I have seen front-line duty, Colonel,” Teyla stated proudly. “I do not mind sleeping in the same room with men.”
“Actually, now that I think of it...” Klink checked the map again. “Yes, Barracks 4 is empty, and that has separate officers’ quarters. Fräulein Emmagan may choose to sleep in there.”
“That is an admirable solution,” Teyla replied, bowing her head in agreement. “Is that also acceptable to you, Col. Schäfer?”
Sheppard waited for Zelenka’s translation before similarly bowing his own head.
“Any objections, Hogan?” Klink asked.
Hogan sighed. “It is technically against the Geneva Convention, but I don’t suppose we have much choice.”
“Excellent!” Klink grinned, clearly relieved. “Schultz, escort Col. Pungenhorst back to the VIP quarters and send Langenscheidt to prepare Barracks 4.”
Schultz snapped to attention. “Jawohl, Herr Kommandant. At once.”
“We should check the other barracks now,” Beckett declared. “If Col. Hogan could show us around?”
“Yes, yes, carry on,” Klink nodded.
“We should go back to work also,” Zelenka stated. “It will not take us long to have your quarters ready for Marya to move in.”
“Fine, fine, fine.” Klink was clearly ready for everyone to be out of his office.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the guards, Marya softly asked Beckett, “Is Pungenhorst contagious?”
“He is now,” Beckett replied. “But so long as ye didnae kiss him after roll call this morning, you should be fine.” And he gave her the briefest of winks.
Marya huffed in relief and hurried after Schultz and Pungenhorst.
“Does Barracks 4 have a tunnel entrance?” Teyla whispered to Hogan as they made their way to Barracks 1.
Hogan grimaced. “No.”
A/N: As it turns out, mono, flu, and viral meningitis all have similar symptoms--high fever, fatigue, and body aches are common to all three, and sneezing and coughing can occur with any of them. The stiff neck connected with meningitis wouldn’t be hard to fake if the Germans got too close, and although a true diagnosis of viral meningitis would require several lab tests, Beckett would theoretically be able to tell that something was wrong because the spinal fluid would be cloudy. “Phtheezles” comes from the poem “Sneezles” in Now We Are Six by A. A. Milne.
SGA notes: When Sateda was destroyed, Ronon was captured by the Wraith and forced to become a runner--the Wraith implanted a tracking device in his back, turned him loose, and hunted him throughout the galaxy for seven years. Team Sheppard rescued him at the beginning of Season 2. Midway was a space station that formed the keystone of the intergalactic Stargate bridge constructed during SGA Season 3. Dr. Lee was in charge of it from its completion at the beginning of Season 4 to its destruction late that same season. After Atlantis was overwhelmed with a Kirsan fever epidemic in “Tabula Rasa,” Stargate Command ordered a 24-hour quarantine at Midway for all travelers from Pegasus to prevent exotic diseases from being carried back to Earth.
The locations of the Stalags in Hogan’s Heroes are entirely fictional. There was a real Stalag 13 (Stalag Luft XIII C) outside the real town of Hammelburg in Bavaria, but the show moves both camp and town to the Düsseldorf area. “Klink’s Old Flame” locates Stalag 4 in France, but by October 1944 very little of France was still in German hands, and though the Allies encountered stiff resistance throughout October, they had reached the German border before the Battle of the Bulge.
SGC: Stargate Command
Morbus horrens = shuddering sickness (Latin)
Caelgirith = shuddering sickness (Sindarin)
Dobre = good (Czech)
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