Journal Entry 112 / 0741 When things don't go right, I get cranky.Journal Entry 112 / 0741 When things don't go right, I get cranky. Sounds to me like a perfectly normal, human reaction. "How long will she stay down?" Derek checked a few displays. "Hal? I estimate four hours?" "I agree," the AI responded. "Although with this new cross- genetic design implementation such estimates are hard to confirm completely, four hours seems a reasonable estimate." "And the rest of the report?" I asked, testily. "Ah," Derek replied, looking at his PADD. "She's clean of the amniotics in her lungs. Upper GI tract seems to be most clogged, followed by the lower. I vote let natural process take care of her. Most of it will filter out through her kidneys eventually. It is reasonably digestible." I nodded. "Okay, then." I rubbed my face with my hands, feeling four-day-old stubble slide along my palms. "You would say that Vulpins one and two are okay." "I would." I smiled. "Things are looking up. I scheduled three through ten to be decanted the day after tomorrow, providing one and two seem viable when they come to." I looked across the room where number two lay, sleeping peacefully. "At least he didn't seem to be in any distress when we pulled him out." "No. I can't figure out why her respiratory activation gave her so much trouble." Derek's brow knit together in puzzlement as he examined her readouts. "I suggest we check the other eight right now, starting with number six. He had some developmental trouble in the postfetal stage." "What kind?" "Lung trouble." "Oh, Hell," I sighed. "Same as hers?" "Could be worse. Let's go check now." I nodded. "Lead the way, Doctor Placton." Two hours later Derek and I were sitting in the Pindam cafeteria, the only two people on this airless ball of rock other than the Tleil Century of Sapienter Vulpes scheduled to come out of their tanks during the course of the next two weeks. We each had a glass of ghi in our hands and were slowly drinking them down when the alarm klaxon went off. "Ken! Derek!" "Hal?" "Medical, stat. You've got an emergency I can't control. |