Shoot for Earth: MedSci Missions 3

Chiron’s ambulance cruiser landed softly in the parking lot of the hospital on Liser. Med kit in hand, Dr. Atland disembarked anxiously to find an alien with fleshy tubes dangling from his face waiting for him. The uniformed staff member directed Chiron’s star surgeon to Walsh’s bedside.

A shot of panic went through Atland as he studied the gel bubble encasing his Captain’s head. He took deep breaths as he quickly determined that Walsh was respiring just fine. However, he felt and urgent need to find out about the pink solution being dripped into what should be his patient. He hoped nothing irreversibly damaging had been done to the Captain by the alien emergency doctors.

The Liser doctor introduced himself. “Hello, I’m Dr. Saxofrel Harash. Ze’s doing well. Brain bleed is eighty percent healed, pressure is normal according to the data you sent.”

The young Atland looked old for a minute, his forehead was so wrinkled. “Thank you, doctor Harash. What chemicals are in the fluid drip?” A cold fear ran through him as he waited for an answer. There was a good chance he wouldn’t know the solution they’d used.

Harash showed him on a screen. Atland’s panic increased, but he remained outwardly calm. There was indeed a chemical he didn’t recognise. “What’s this one?” he asked.

“Inert. Just a die extracted from a plant so that our staff can quickly identify the coagulating fluid.”

Atland breathed easier, as the purpose of the other chemicals seeped into his stressed brain. He’d done all right on chemistry, but it was in surgeries requiring his unusually dexterous skills and anatomical brain mapping that he excelled. “Ah. So his pink fluid is saline with artificial platelets to stop the brain bleed,” he said, now confident.

“Yes. The question is how to get him off our restorative gel pack and into your care without interrupting his recovery. If I had one more day with him, I’m confident I could have him cured.”

Atland agonised for a minute. It might actually be true that Walsh would be better left here another day. His chief, however, wanted him back on board, and the Ambassador was anxious to continue on their way as soon as possible. If it wasn’t for the latter, he might make a case to Chief Lopez.

“Unfortunately, I’ve been ordered to get him back to our hospital,” Dr. Atland said. “I have conformal foam that will keep his head protected, and a medpatch that can dispense our own coagulation chemicals. How do we transfer his head from your gel bubble?”

Harash’s  face turned a pale brownish green of concern as he thought.