TRWD21

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
21

Deciding to let Lee and Joe handle Lee’s discomfort, and after changing back into uniform, I joined Jiggs for a game of chess in the Observation Nose. Unfortunately, what had begun as a slight itch had developed into a constant need to scratch my butt, my thighs, and worst of all, my crotch.
“I’m sorry, Jiggs. This is just too damn irritating and embarrassing. I don’t know what it is. I was fine earlier this morning but my skin began to itch midway through the press conference. When I got back from the pub and changed I didn’t see any irritated skin.”
“Sounds like wool burn,” O’Brien said as he poured himself a cup of coffee from the sideboard. “It can happen when you wear a woolen kilt. Especially if you wear it without underwear. And the sporran makes it worse.”
“Of course,” I said, slapping my forehead. “I should have realized. Is there any cure, then? I did apply some hydrocortisone.”
“Actually the only thing I found that helped me was jock itch cream. But better have a corpsman take a look, just in case it’s something else. Doc’ll be back soon. He went ashore to get some Fish & Chips and some postcards.”

And so I decided to wait as showing Will would be less embarrassing. Finally I found myself with my pants down in Sick Bay while Will examined me, taking a few skin scrapings to examine under one of his microscopes.
“No doubt about it,” he said in a few minutes. “Dermatitis from abrasion. O’Brien’s right about jock itch cream, but I can give you an injection that’s stronger. Should stop the itching almost immediately.”
Thus agreed to and injected, I was pulling up my pants when Joe called over the PA.
“Doc! Captain’s cabin, now!”
“Winston, shut up!” Chip was ordering the yowling dog.
“Go away you two,” Lee was whining, “let me die in peace. Winston, shut up!”

Will grabbed his bag and sprinted away, me following as fast as I could, which wasn’t fast enough as by the time I got to Lee’s cabin, I saw Lee in the head, kneeling over the toilet retching his guts out.
Missy and Winston were yowling from behind the closed closet door, apparently to keep them out of the way.
“Lee thought he only had an over full stomach,” Joe was telling Will who was taking a blood sample from Lee’s arm, “but he was so miserable he had me get him some Ipecac.”
“I could have sent someone to town to get the pink stuff! You should have told me before all this! And you should have called Sick Bay right away when he felt sick, not wait until now. Gawd, he’s upchucking blood! And what’s that green stuff?”
“Of course, it’s blood, you idiot,” Joe said, “We had blood sausage, remember.”
“What’s the green stuff, Doc?” Chip asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Will said, pulling out a Will pulled out a vial and preparing a syringe. “This should do the trick for most upper GI discomfort and it’s not contraindicated with Ipecac or any known irritant.You four had the same meal?”
“Yes, but I don’t feel sick at all,” Chip said.
“Me neither,” I added.
“Or me,” Joe said.
Lee’s retching was lessening, much to our relief as Will decided it was safe to leave his patient for a few minutes in order for him to check the blood sample and a smidge of vomit he’d gotten from a tissue on Lee’s mouth.
I couldn’t help noticing a crowd had gathered just outside the cabin which parted as Jiggs entered. brought me back to the matter at hand.
“Ohmygod!” Joe yelled.
“Doc!” Chip groped for the intercom, “he’s turning purple and starting to hyperventilate!”

Time passed like molasses for me, though it was less than a minute before Frank and another corpsman arrived with a respirator and stretcher. Like a well-oiled machine, the two prepped Lee for the dreaded instrument, but before they inserted it, Will returned, with a new syringe and injected Lee again.
“He’s been poisoned!”
The antidote worked quickly, for Lee immediately began to breathe normally, and his complexion was fast becoming normal
“Belay the respirator,” Will told Frank as he checked Lee’s pulse, and his pupil, then satisfied, turned toward me. “He’s out of danger. It was rat poison, Admiral.”
“Rat poison? How the devil…”
“Check on Angus,” Lee interrupted, the picture of misery, still bent over the toilet with a couple more bouts of vomit and dry heaves.
“Angus?” Chip asked, “right now I’d call him the prime suspect! That meal was his idea!”
“Do as I say!” Lee shouted, wearily rising from his knees, holding on to the toilet bowl to rise. Then, standing, he reached for the Listerine he kept on the edge of the sink and rinsed out his mouth and gargled with it.
Instead of having Sparks call the police to go check on McDonald, he told them to arrest him for attempted murder by rat poison.
“That’s not what I told you!” Lee fumed, dabbing the few drips of Listerine on the corners of his mouth.
“Sparks,” I said, taking over the intercom, “belay that murder suspicion to the police. Tell them we suspect food poisoning from today’s meal at the restaurant. The Police had better call in the health authorities and get everyone checked out. Then,” I added, “contact MI-6 and ONI and tell them the Captain may have been deliberately poisoned. Angus McDonald is the prime suspect. Or any of the restaurant staff. Tell them it’s imperative not to let on our suspicions. That way they can weed out the culprits easier.”
“Aye sir…er…”
‘He’ll be fine, “Will said, “we administered the antidote in time.”
“You know, Chip,” Lee said, pulling off his soiled shirt, “I ought to put you on report and…”
“Admiral,” Sparks’ voice interrupted, “the police say McDonald’s at the hospital with a severe stomach upset. They’re already checking him for the rat poison. Nobody else, so far.”
Lee was opening his closet door to find a disgruntled dog and cat.
“Sorry,” he told them, bending down to reassure them, then grabbed a clean shirt and pulled it on. “Chip, you and Doc handle the police and hospital inquiries. As far as they’re to know it was some kind of industrial accident, probably cross contamination. ”
“Who the heck is going to believe that?” Chip asked, “Only you got sick, and McDonald might have poisoned himself as a cover for trying to kill you!”
“It’s not like you to panic like this, Chip.”
“I didn’t panic! I’m angry! You could have died before Doc figured out what was wrong!”
“Would you like a tranquilizer?” Will asked Chip.
“Very funny.”
“Admiral?” Sparks called over the air again, “we just got a fax from Miss Nelson with her flight itinerary to Inverness.”
“Damn, I forgot about that. Very well, Sparks.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Another woman aboard Seaview?” Jiggs sighed, “I know she’s your sister, Harriman, but …”
“I must have forgotten to tell you,” I said, “Edith borrowed an old needlepoint tapestry from the Boston Museum. Stitched in the 1800’s. Has what looks like a kelpie on it. She thought we might like to see it. I told her we’d be happy to have her come. Especially as I couldn’t very well tell her not too, since we have Emmie and Mrs. C. aboard.”
“Sorry to bother you right now, Skipper,” Sparks called over the PA again, “President Avery for you. Videophone. Not secure.”
“Very well, pipe it through.”
“Aye, sir.”
“If I have to listen to any more hot air from Washington,” Lee sighed, “I’ll need all of you to stay here to keep me from doing something stupid.”
“Too late,” the voice said from the monitor facing the bulkhead.
Lee turned the videophone to face us, but he was the only one sitting on the bunk except Missy.
“Mr. President,” Lee said, his shirt’s top two buttons still undone.
“Why wasn’t I informed when I assumed office about your expedition’s true nature? I only found out a few minutes ago from ONI.”
“You were supposed to have been given a complete file from Hodges.”
“Well, I wasn’t. You should have checked. Frankly, Captain, I think your suspicions about this Dr. Gustav Gamma are way off. He’s clean as a whistle. Doesn’t even have any driving tickets for the past ten years. He’s been in Rio for months, having a great time wining and dining beautiful women, and losing money at the gaming tables…”
“Have you looked at his patents?” Joe asked, “they….”
“Who the hell are you? Oh, wait. You’re Nelson-Crane’s man from the White House last time. In any case, I was speaking to him, not you.”
“Interactive holograms could be dangerous,” Lee said. “With specific programing, they could cause untold mischief with NATO’s computerized weapons systems. I think that the kelpie.…”
“Yes, yes, it’s all here. Childish imaginings, Captain. Childish! Good thing you’re on civilian status or I’d have you in the shrink ward at Bethesda!”
“Lee was almost murdered today?” Chip interrupted. “Can you still call his suspicions childish?”
“Murdered?” Avery went pale.
“We’re not sure the rat poison was intentional,” I said, “but we’re having MI-6 and ONI check it out. For now it’s something Lee ate.”
“Something we all ate,” Joe said, “but he’s the only one who got sick and almost died.”
“It’s possible,” Lee said, “that somebody doesn’t want me to discover this kelpie for what it might really be. We’re continuing with the expedition. The public only knows I’m interested in a prehistoric creature, not a possible weapon.”
“I want a full report about that rat poison business,” Avery said. “And one about just what you did with that digital eyeball of yours to skid that missile. Even the secretary of defense isn’t sure. You, Captain, are a security risk.”
“Now see here, Mr. President,” I fumed.
“And about the eyeball. The government’s not going to replace it as you weren’t on active duty. There are mixed feelings in congress about paying for a new one seeing how you saved Washington. I also want a little talk with you, Captain. You may have saved Washington, but nobody tells the president of the United States to get out of the chair. Not even you, though I shudder to think what could have happened had you not taken action. And you need to know that in spite of the People’s Republic’s claims, personally I think they’re lying through their teeth about sabotage. Especially since the chairman has assigned Colonel Tao to oversee their so-called investigation, which means no real investigation at all.”
“Lee?” I asked as he paled.
“Tao was the man who arranged for my capture and brainwashing as that saboteur aboard Seaview. Should we go to silent alert, Mr. President?”
“You were their prisoner? Why the hell hasn’t anyone told me anything!”
“The alert, sir?” Lee asked.
“No, not yet, but be prepared for it. I want a report about that capture, Captain and what happened.”
“Cartwright has it,” I said.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Admiral.”
“I’ll make sure ONI sends you a complete report, Mr. President,” Lee said. “Is there anything else?”
“You’re an opinionated son of a bitch but, how taking over if can’t last my term?”
“When hell freezes over, sir.”
“I have lots of flame throwers,” he laughed and ended the call.

“Skipper?” Sparks voice came over again. “News broadcast about Mrs. Crane and Mrs. Nelson. Want me to turn it on?”
“Might as well,” Lee answered on the intercom.
The monitor clicked on…
“…We’re here in front of the Stork’s Nest, where Mrs. Crane, the mother of Captain Nelson-Crane and Mrs. Nelson, wife of Admiral Harriman Nelson have been shopping…”
Just then both ladies emerged with bags and boxes and the press pounced….
“…Any special reason why you’re shopping here?”
“…Are you trying to find gifts for family and friends?”
“…Has Captain Nelson-Crane gotten a girl in the family way?”

“Oh, good grief,” Lee said.

“…Well,” Mrs. C. was saying, “if Lee had, he would have informed us and taken responsibility. We came here to buy some layettes for Mrs. Nelson.”
Gasps from the crowd.
“…Yes, she’s expecting.”
“..Twins,” Emmie said. “A boy and a girl.”
“…Was it a planned pregnancy or a mistake?” someone asked.
“…Did you visit a fertility clinic? You are a bit beyond the usual child bearing years.”
“…Did the admiral use any special drugs or equipment?”
“…I assure you,” Emmie said defiantly as Mrs. C. hailed a cab, “Harriman needs no help in the bedroom. And no, we didn’t plan anything. It just happened.”
“…Have you decided on names yet?”
“…Not yet…”
“…How does the captain feel about being usurped as your husband’s sole heir?”
“…Lee’s delighted. Ah, here’s our taxi, good day.”
“…Will the captain still be allowed to keep his fifty percent of the institute and Seaview?”
“…Well,” she said, irritated, as she and Mrs. C. got into the vehicle, “I suggest you ask him.”

“I need a little time with Harry. Joe, take Winston for a walk on the treadmill. I’ll be down shortly.”

Chip was not happy to leave Lee so soon after his near death experience, Jiggs wasn’t happy just on general principle of being left out of things. Joe simply did as his spook buddy asked.

“We will have to discuss it, Harry,” Lee said after the door closed. “The twins should take priority over me and…”
“You’re as much mine as they are. You’re also my business partner and co-owner of Seaview. That, I assure you won’t change. Emmie and I have already made financial plans for the children. Their inheritance when they’re of age and upon our passing, will be substantial. Now, let’s go topside to greet the ladies.”

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My Journal 22