milliways_bar | (no subject)

Ray thinks for a bit.

"The most important thing is that poor Naraht is sick. He came to my world to help us with a disaster that was going on, and picked up some kind of illness while we were there. Raven says there's power in the illness, but he hasn't figured out what kind yet- he's only managed to slow it down."

"That sounds bad - poor Naraht!" Asar-Suti says, his throat sounding very rough as he says the Horta's name.

"All those things happening to him - first human female shape, now a weird illness. What are you going to do about it?"

He'd offer to help, but he fears Naraht might still harbour resentments from when the purple deity was very insensitive to the poor shape-shifted silicon life form.

"Well, like I said, we got Raven involved," Ray says. "There's no real medical information on Hortas, since they don't usually get sick. Naraht's in the cells at the moment in case he's infectious towards other silicon-based lifeforms- besides, Baby's able to customize to his needs, and his room isn't. We're trying to keep him warm and fed and stuff until we figure out what to do."

"Is there anybody else from his world?" Asar-Suti asks. "Have you asked around for that?"

"Yeah, I did," Ray says gloomily. "The only one with medical knowledge of his species is from a point in time before Naraht was even old enough to join Starfleet, and I haven't seen Commander Data since all of this began."

"So, what are you going to do?" Asar-Suti asks. There would have to be something, would there? "Will somebody have to go to Naraht's world to find out?"

"Maybe," Ray says. "Maybe Raven will have to do something. I might have to go back to my world for reference material or a sample of the stuff he ingested or something. I don't know." He pushes at his face with both hands. "I don't know."

"Do you know what it was that he swallowed?" Asar-Suti asks. What might a silicon life form get food poisoning from? Elderly cement?

"He ate his way through a New York City street, a lot of dirt, some wood chips- that was an accident- some fill, and a bunch of rocks under Central Park that were being used to dam up the flow of a synthetic lubricant that got him drunker than I've ever seen anyone. At first he thought this was all just a hangover."

Asar-Suti laughs out loud, despite his sympathy for poor Naraht. "That synthetic liquid - must be something like silicon life form scumble. But there msut have been lots of pollution in all those substances. Finding out what harmed him must be very hard. What did people in New York think Naraht was? I don't think Hortas are very common there, are they?"

Ray smiles a little. "They didn't actually see him, for the most part. Of the ones who did only two even remember. We had Agent K along, from the Men in Black- do you know him?"

"No - who is he? Very non-memorable, or very distracting?" That sounded like quite the weird adventure to Asar-Suti.

"The latter. He looks a little bit like he could be a relative of mine or something, but he's older than me, and he carries a device called a neuralyzer that he can use to make people forget the past few minutes' events. He used that on people who were freaking out because they saw the Horta."

"Ouch," Asar-Suti says. "I wouldn't want my memory modified. But then, it probably wouldn't waork on me. What were you in New York for, though, in that unusual combination?"

"Poltergeist activity threatening people in all five boroughs and the city of Bayonne, New Jersey," Ray says. "K wanted to wield a proton pack. So did Naraht, although we didn't have one he could use so we figured he could control the traps instead. He turned out really useful, though. IN the end the danger lay beneath the streets and we had to dig through to it really, really fast."

"Sounds like a very exciting excursion," Asar-Suti grins.

"I should go on one and wield purple magic - oomph!"

"Next time," Ray promises, "you can come with us if you want to."

Asar-Suti grins brightly.

"Yep - sounds like loads of fun. Digging through concrete and hunting ghosts."

"As long as you avoided the orange ducksauce from hell that was erupting out of the sewers and melting through glass like it was plastic, yeah. Nerve-wracking, but entertaining after the fact."

"Well, I might not get orange ducksauce," Asar-Suti points out.

"Well, it wasn't really ducksauce," Ray points out. "It was industrial lubricant for a giant rotating pillar that apparently holds up the island of Manhattan. With any luck, your crisis won't involve a repeat of that."

"You have islands on artificial pillars, on your world?" Asar-Suti asks, curious.

"Not on purpose," Ray says. "It just... seems to have worked out that way on mine. We had no idea."

"Your world sounds weird," ASar-Suti says, in the tones of deep approval.

"Given that it was attacked by a destructive Sumerian god who wound up taking the form of a hundred-foot marshmallow man... yeah. Yeah, it is." Ray smiles. "But it's home."