(no subject)

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

There is a sound of motors echoing down the stairway. Naraht soon appears riding his crawler. Those who are familiar with the Horta's contraption might notice that his driving isn't quite as smooth as it usually is. They might also notice that his skin looks different. Rather like he's been given a light coat of dust.

And Naraht feels as bad (possibly worse) than he looks. Failing to find Ray upstairs, he has come down to see if he can find any help.

He has a sinking suspicion that he's going to need it.

Comments

[gone_byebye]

Even geeks have to leave their rooms from time to time. Ray is trying to work his way through tofu and brow rice when he hears a familiar engine noise. "Naraht, hey-"

As he looks up the words die. "Oh, jeez," he says, getting to his feet. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"What a startling coincidence, Ray. I don't feel so good either," he says, shutting off the crawler and slithering to the ground with a little less grace than usual. "I have come to the conclusion that I most definately do not have a hangover."

[gone_byebye]

"No kidding." The squishy dinner forgotten, Ray hops down from his chair. "Um, what are your- what, uh- aside from the digestive stuff from earlier, what are your symptoms now?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Extreme fatigue, marked fringe pain, dull aches over the rest of my body...and my core temperature is dropping faster than inhibitions on a Risa shore-leave."

He shivers. "The digestive symptoms are worse. But the core temperature is the kicker. That only happens when we're mounting an immune response or we've had prolonged immersion in water. And I've most assuredly not been swimming."

[gone_byebye]

"Sounds like influenza, to a human," Ray says. "Particularly the aches and the fatigue. Are there any authorities on Horta medicine that you know of?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Well...the best authority is Dr. McCoy. The one from my time, that is. Not that we get sick very often." he says. "I'm beginning to think I should go home and get to Sick Bay."

[gone_byebye]

Ray steeples his fingers in front of his nose, thinking. "That might be a wise idea, yeah," he says. "I can't even remove a computer virus, let alone something that'd affect you."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht laughs weakly. "It's going to be a real challenge explaining how I got this," he says. "Though, if my McCoy is the same as the McCoy who comes here, he'll probably get it."

A gout of yellow-tinged vapor chuffs out. "First Mother, I feel awful. I guess I'm not doing myself any good by putting it off."

[gone_byebye]

"Do you think it would help at all if I came with you?" Ray offers. "Or at least gave you a memory stick with corroborative data?"

Then he winces. "Oh, man. That didn't look good at all."

Somewhere in the back of his head is a terrible academic curiosity, and right now it is wondering what Horta diarrhoea looks like.

The rest of his brain is going to find the academic curiosity and beat it to death with sticks.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"I...I would really like that, Ray," Naraht says. "It will add an extra bit of fun explaining your presence to Security but...if you don't mind that."

He starts to glide toward the Door with Ray close behind.

[gone_byebye]

"Not a problem, big guy. It's not like I haven't been all kinds of places I'm not supposed to be before."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

The pair of them weave their way through the tables and milling patrons (in Naraht's case, the weaving is becoming less intensional).

"Thank you, Ray," Naraht says. "When we get there, just let me do the explaining. I've been rehersing an explaination of Milliways and I think I've even got it down to less than a hundred words."

The reach the Door. To Naraht, it looks like a turbolift door...but it's not sliding open automaticly. "Ahem," he says, then moves closer...and even closer when the Door doesn't respond. "Oh, dear," he says, then ponderously raises part of his body off the floor to tap the keypad. "This is not good, Ray."

[gone_byebye]

Ray stares at the door, prodding it with one hand. "No," he agrees. "No, it's not."

In point of fact, the space vacated by most of his brain is currently echoing with 'oh shit oh shit oh shit', but that's neither here nor there.

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"You don't happen to know any doctors with expertise in silicon-based physiology, do you?" Naraht asks weakly. "Damn it! What possible reason..." his voice trails off.

[gone_byebye]

"The Machine Order of Life doesn't count as silicon-based, I don't think," Ray says. "Sorry. Um, Eska might be able to help. I think she said trolls in her world are silicon-based and I know she's a damn fine medic."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"I hope so," Naraht says. "Because...the theory behind being Bound is that you're kept here for a reason. I just thought of two. One that's good and another thats...not so good."

[gone_byebye]

"I'll venture to guess that the not-so-good one involves contagion." Ray looks grimly at the door. "The other involves someone here being able to cure you. Am I right?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"Correct," Naraht says. "And the contagion one...that is a rather significant risk. I believe I told you earlier that silicon-based pathogens are as rare as the more advanced life. That means our immune systems don't have as much impetus to develop as you carbon-based lifeforms."

He pauses for a second as another stomach spasm ripples through him. "Aaggh...that's not fun," he gasps. "The practical upshot is...of the few diseases we can get, they tend to run in the deadly range. If that is the reason the Bar is keeping me here..."

[gone_byebye]

Ray exhales massively. "We gotta find someone medical now," he finishes. "Frith on a bridge..."

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

"And inform Security," Naraht says grimly. "I don't believe there are any other silicon-based lifeforms here, but, if there are, I need to be isolated."

[gone_byebye]

Ray nods and heads for the Bar, waving an arm overhead. "YO! Security!" he calls. "Have we got a doctor in the house? ANybody? We have a problem over here!"

[nita_callahan]

Nita looks up, sitting at the Bar.

"Um. I'm a healer -- what's the problem?"

[lt-naraht.livejournal.com]

Naraht pauses at Nita's offer. "Good evening, ma'am," he says, chuffing more yellowish vapor. "I do hope you've treated silicon-based lifeforms before."

[faithful-slayer.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Ray."

Faith hops down off the barstool she'd been occupying, giving him a little wave. "What's up?"

[gone_byebye]

Ray jerks a thumb at the HOrta beside him. "This is Lieutenant Dahai Iohor Naraht of the Federation starship Enterprise, and right now he's sick as a dog. Since silicon diseases are apparently pretty contagious we were kind of hoping to get him into isolation or something."