Dissecting a Surgery Table

Posted on Mon 15th May, 2017 @ 1:47am by Lieutenant Commander Lanis Dhuro MD & Carlo Rienzi

642 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Wrongs Darker Than Death Or Night
Location: Main Infirmary, Deck 83
Timeline: MD-2, 2230 hours
Tags: dhurolanis, carlorienzi

Lanis ran a borrowed engineering tricorder over every inch of the Rouens surgery table that had been Lt. Scott Breaux's bed for over a decade. Breaux's body had been removed half an hour before and the cushioning on the table disposed of, leaving a clean surface. All that remained to tell of its existence in the hidden laboratory were the tubes still attached and the base, which looked more like an enormous metal tank than anything else.

Lanis yawned. He ought to be in bed by now, but he couldn't rest. "Computer, show surgery table control display, facing my position," Lanis said. The holo-display obligingly popped into being in a flat rectangle of lights. Lanis waved his hand over it in various directions to see how the bed of the table responded to his positioning gestures. He grunted in satisfaction. This, at least functioned normally. He peered at the tricorder again and scowled before digging a set of mechanical and electric tools out of a repair kit. He used an electric screwdriver to unscrew the bolts from a side plate of the base. Moments later he had the access plate on the floor and was kneeling beside it, studying the contents of the table's base.

He called up an image of what the table's interior was supposed to look like and shook his head as he attempted to compare it to his tricorder readings. The table design had been completely reworked, as if someone had handed an eager young engineer a pile of tools and supplies and given orders to tinker at will. Lanis traced schematic paths that he barely remembered from 15 years before and puzzled over how they had been altered.

"Well, I'll be fried," he muttered under his breath as he reached in and carefully pulled a heavy, rectangular device toward him, partway out of the table. "A replicator connected to the pumping system." He grimaced. "Makes sense, I suppose. How else do you keep someone alive indefinitely? But what a despicable way to use it. And what's it been using for raw materials?" Then he mentally answered his own question and fought not to gag. He slid the replicator back inside with a sharp clack! and made an image of the tubing and collection bags to show how they were attached to the replicator. He disconnected the interior tubing and tossed it and the collection bags down the waste reclamation chute. Samples of everything had already been taken; there was nothing more to learn from their contents.

Crouching, Lanis replaced the base plate and screwed the bolts back in. What were they going to do with the thing, he wondered? The thought of what had been done with it in the hidden lab made him ill. He collected his tools, replaced them in their cabinet, and headed for his office.

It didn't take long to write the report. He sent it to Addams with a copy to Michaels and left the infirmary. He started to go to his quarters and then remembered the Bajoran lilacs there. Lanis cringed.

No. I just can't. I don't want Irel and this ugliness in the same thought. Just...no.

He got into the turbolift. "Deck 595," Lanis told it in a voice that promised murder.

Fortunately for it, the lift made no comment; only smoothly dropped toward the Promenade. At 595 Lanis exited and made his way to Pub 10-42.

"Hey, Lanis, welcome back!" Carlo, the bartender, called out to him. "Kind of late for you, isn't it?" Then his smile faded. "You don't look so good. What happened?"

Lanis went to the bar but didn't sit down. "I'll be in a booth, Carlo. I want half a carafe of black Kanar, and then leave me the hell alone."

Lt. Dhuro Lanis, MD
Chief of Surgery

Carlo Rienzi
Owner, Pub 10-42

 

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