Fitful dreams plagued Dr. Claireborne. In one, a naked miniature Buddha chased him around the station on a giant snowmobile. It had a giggly laugh, and it never stopped using it as it bore down on him with an outlandish cartoon smile. In another, he was a woman. He could remember no other detail, but that one was enough to make him wake up and put a hand to his chest, just in case.
Finding everything to be in order, Claireborne shook his head and looked at the clock beside his bed. 1:30 AM. He grunted and shook his head. A time like that would mean turning over and going back to sleep at home. But here, it meant rise and shine. Here, the people slept when they got the chance to and got to work when they woke up. Antarctica was timeless in that respect. Time did not govern what you did in the course of a day. It only told you how long you had been doing what you were doing, and gave other people a way to get you to do things faster. Here, it was a completely different concept.
So Dr. Claireborne got out of bed. Scott had already left, dragging himself off to another shift, or perhaps down to the medical center, to flirt with Ms. Hallie. If that was where he was, Claireborne would have to talk with the cook, Mr. Vicars, to see if he couldn’t curtail the young man and his advances on the doctor’s assistant.
One boot at a time, Claireborne got ready to head outside again. It would be twilight now, and would stay that way for another hour or so. The sun would hover halfway over the horizon, then slowly rise again, as par its ever indecisive course in these long, summer days. Endless light at almost all hours of the day. It was enough to drive some people a little crazy. Claireborne remembered one fellow who he had shared a room with a couple of summers ago, who had covered the window in a dark black curtain, and had smashed every light he could find, desperate for night in this place of perpetual sunshine. Raytheon had eventually sent him out again, but it took maintenance forever to replace the bulbs he had destroyed.
Claireborne left his room and walked down the halls of the residence center. Loud snoring could be heard within one room. Perhaps it was John, or one of his other drinking buddies. Claireborne didn’t know. Here, one did not meet one’s friends at their rooms. You met them out working, out at the bar, or out just walking. Their room was their house, their sanctum from you and everyone else here. Courtesy dictated that you not disturb that sanctum unless it was of the gravest importance. They had yet to find something that gravely important.
The cold air nipped at the doctor’s face as he stepped out and put on his parka. The wind was not blowing though. This was acceptable weather, cold, but still and quiet. He walked back down the ice road towards the medical center. First thing would be to find out how Ms. Patterson had faired the night. Then he could go on to the ordinary happenings of the McMurdo Medical Center, namely making the rounds and finding if new supplies were needed. And after that, the solitude of his office.
It was a long walk in the half-light of the almost set sun. The shadows around Dr. Claireborne were oftentimes odd looking, cast in odd angles that seemed almost Cyclopean at times. But he disregarded them. Antarctica was always attempting to breach the minds of those who tread upon its icy surface. After a while, one learned to block it out, use the rational mind to confine decidedly irrational supposing. It was a survival mechanism, essential in this place.
Dr. Claireborne opened the door of the medical center and stepped inside. He shook his head once and took off his parka. Ms. Hallie rushed up to him. Her promptness, her stationing herself by the door in anticipation of the doctor, was noted. Something had happened, something profound and noteworthy.
“Ms. Hallie, you seem a little worried,” he said.
“It’s the Patterson case,” she replied. “The hypothermia victim that came in last night.”
“What has changed in her condition? Has she died?”
Ms. Hallie shook her head. “No. Come see.”
The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Can’t you tell me here?”
She shook her head. “No one should see yet but you.”
It was not in Ms. Hallie’s nature to be cryptic for no reason. In fact, Dr. Claireborne noted that it wasn’t in her nature to be cryptic for any reason at all. He nodded and motioned for her to lead on. She hurried on down the hall, with him trailing behind her. Occasionally she would look over her shoulder, to make sure that the doctor alone was following her. Now he could see that she was exceptionally worried. Her mannerisms were more nervous than they usually where when a patient had taken a turn for the worse or, worst case scenario, actually died.
There was a curtain in front of the door to Ms. Patterson’s room. Ms. Hallie paused and turned back to Dr. Claireborne.
“Doctor, I know that you are my superior. I know that I am supposed to defer to your judgement in extraordinary circumstances. But I please ask you to not tell anyone what’s in this room.”
Dr. Claireborne considered her request. “What is it, Ms. Hallie?”
“Something that disturbs me,” the assistant said. “It’s unnatural and...and it disturbs me greatly. So far, only I and Mr. Valentine have seen what is in here.”
“You keep referring to something, not someone,” the doctor noted. “What has become of Ms. Patterson?”
Ms. Hallie opened the door a little. “See for yourself.”
The doctor slowly stepped forward and walked through the door. Ms. Hallie followed after him and shut it behind them. With quick motions she locked it. That did not catch the doctor’s attention. By that time, all his thought was bent upon what was in the bed before him.
It had a human shape and design, bipedal, two arms, walked upright. But there the resemblances ended. For instead of normal human skin, the black and white pattern of an orca whale covered its body. Its head was reminiscent of one as well, with nostrils migrated from its face to a much higher position and a mouthful of peg-like teeth. It was grotesque in many ways.
“Ms. Hallie,” Dr. Claireborne said slowly. “What is this?”
Ms. Hallie took a deep breath before she spoke. “That is, or was, Ms. Patterson.”
For a moment or so the doctor was speechless. Then, he found the few words that came to him. “What did you say?”
“All this happened last night,” Maxwell said, standing up from his position beside the bed. His face was haggard and told of a lack of sleep. “I watched it happen. She and I watched it happen.”
this part hasn't gotten my attention really, all four times reading it. Like...eh. I didn't like it as much as some of your other stuff. I liked the ending, but up until then...eh. It felt rather useless and irrevelant. I just didn't like it.
Good job.
