TRWD32

My Journal
By Harriman Nelson
32

I’d just reached my cabin as Edith was saying good night to Emmie, apparently having tired of the family label in the nose.
“You know,” I said, ‘I’ve suddenly realized that I’ve been pretty much ignoring you both lately, I’m sorry.”
“Well,” Edith said, “you’ve had your mind on more important things. In fact, there’s something else on your mind, isn’t there. I can tell when you look you have a bad toothache.”

And so I told them about my doubts about God’s supposed goodness. It was hard for them not to wonder about it as well. Then, to distract us from a disturbing topic, I told them about Lee thinking Jules Verne was one of my ‘egghead scientist buddies’, thanks to Doc’s meds. Both amused, Edith headed to her cabin, and Emmie pulled me into ours.

It was a bit late for passion, but the mood struck, and we hurried to use some Listerine to rid ourselves of whiskey breath.

Morning came all too soon, and Emmie persuaded me to join her in the Wardroom for the second seating of breakfast before going to check on Lee in Sick Bay.
As we entered, Mrs. C. tried to give me a little smile, and Winston, with her, but leashed to under the table’s legs, wagged his tail at us.
Jiggs, busy chewing his toast, sprayed a ‘good morning’ to us.
The monitor was on of course as it almost always was now, this time tuned to Fox News…
“…The president and several of his predecessor’s advisors are still on the hot seat, for not having taken Captain Nelson-Crane’s suspicions of a holographic weapon seriously when apprised of them….”

“That’s for sure,” one of the mess specialists reacted as he laid out a new tray of bacon and eggs. “If they’d only trusted the Skip’s intuition in the first place, intelligence could have nipped everything in the bud right then, and the skipper wouldn’t have been kidnapped and tortured and be stuck in Sick Bay and think Jules Verne’s one of the admiral’s ‘egghead scientist buddies’.”
“Oh, gawd,” I said. “How did you hear about that?”
“It’s all over the internet. News, too.”
“Had to be Edith,” I surmised to Emmie, “she’s always on social media.”
“Don’t be so quick to judge,” Emmie said. “Could have been the medical staff.”
“I very greatly doubt they’d have said anything.”

Just then Joe entered and looked flustered.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Lee’s upset. And blasting Doc for having given him too high a dose of pain killers yesterday.”
“Why is that a problem?” Emmie asked. “We could all see how much pain he was in.”
“Well, he heard the newscasts and talk shows this morning. Most of them told everybody that he’d thought Jules Verne was one of the admiral’s egghead scientist buddies. Doc and I told him it was no big deal that he’d been a little confused because meds can do that. Well, that didn’t help and Lee went ballistic. He pulled his IV’s and monitor tethers out and climbed off the gurney. He had to lean against it, but oh boy was he cussing in a bunch of different languages even I didn’t know he knew.
In between the cussing he was yelling at Doc, Frank, Baker, and even at Ski! Then he told me, yea, me, to get the hell away from him. His words. So I came here. I don’t know if Doc’s team managed to sedate him or not, he had such fire in his eyes, er, eye. The empty hole still has packing in it.”
“I’d better go see him,” I said, rising.
“Harriman,” Jiggs aid, “I think it’s best to just let Sick Bay handle him.”
“I don’t think even you could settle him down, Admiral,” Joe told me. “He’s more angry with himself that he was spaced out yesterday. He’ll come around. But now he’s taking it all out on everyone telling him it was okay to be a bit muddled.”
“He’s right, dear,” Emmie said, patting my empty chair. “Come back and eat with me and listen to the news…they’re talking about Lee….”
“…Well, it’s definite,” the reporter was saying as I sat back down, “that Captain Nelson-Crane will not be addressed as ‘Sir Lee’ anywhere. The knighthood bestowed upon him by the queen of England has been determined by Parliament to be null and void. Not allowed to be politically vocal, the queen is said to be taking the ruling as a personal affront. The Prince of Wales, made a statement from just outside his Highgrove estate before going to a function with his wife, the Duchess of Cornwall….”
“…I think,” the prince was saying, “it’s an embarrassment to our nation and the commonwealth to revoke an honor, even if possibly incorrect, bestowed by the queen, to man who saved her life, and those of untold millions. While parliament is considering an appropriate medal for the captain’s gallantry, it’s not quite the same thing, is it. As for me, my wife and I will refer to the captain as ‘Sir Lee’ in private and public, damn precedent and protocol. The queen may have to comply with parliament’s wishes, but I for sure the hell don’t, at least not yet, God willing, not for several years to come.”
“…Meanwhile far far away,” the reporter continued as the image changed, “in misty Loch Ness, Scotland, the Seaview, currently under the peaty depths, is using its advanced technology to follow and take bio readings of the Loch Ness Monster and its supposed offspring, the kelpie. Early this morning, the Flying Sub was dispatched, along with divers, for more up close and personal readings of the creatures, still not in visual range, which are believed to have had ancestors from the Jurassic Era.
“…Members of the International Geographical and Geophysical Societies have complained that Admiral Nelson declined to use any microchip tracking devices, which would have allowed far more precise readings of the creatures. “…In Inverness, the captain’s Multi Terrain Vehicle that converts into a hovercraft, has been loaded aboard a freighter that will depart that port soon, on its way to New York. It is unknown who will drive it cross country to Santa Barbara….”
“…It’s not a very comfortable ride,” one of the two crewmen who’d driven it to Inverness said, “Its only two redeeming factors is that with the application of more duct tape and liquid rubber, in can turn into a hovercraft, and it’s red. The skipper likes red.”
I knew the two drivers had already been returned to Seaview via the Flying Sub before she took off for another stint of tailing of the bio signals of the creatures in Loch Ness.
“… As for the captain’s condition, there has been no official update from the Seaview, though a post to social media late last night, technically morning, by Edith Nelson, sister of Admiral Nelson, and aboard Seaview, said the captain had been given such strong analgesics that he thought Jules Verne was, to quote Miss Nelson, ‘one of Harry’s egghead scientist buddies’.”
“…It’s doubtful, however, that this medically induced lapse will hinder President Avery’s continuing press for a new amendment to the constitution that would allow congress to, in effect, draft someone to the presidency without an election nor going through the list of ‘presidential survivors’, or substitutes, none of which have indicated any kind of objection to bypass them.
“…The controversial idea is fraught with problems especially regarding the constitutional right of choice. Congressman Granger had a few things to say about it… ”
“…We’d be damned if we approved such a thing, we’d be damned if we didn’t. The very idea proves President Avery has no cognitive ability or judgement and should step down. If all of the presidential survivors renege on their oaths, if Nelson-Crane could be persuaded to retake the office, well and good, but an amendment that would open a Pandora’s Box of potential dictators? Not what America’s about. I almost hope the captain decides to volunteer and rid us of ineptitude and scandal that’s been at the heart of the White House since President Abernathy, President Hodges, and now under President Avery’s administrations. Nelson-Crane, by his very nature, and with his exemplary record, not to mention previous experience, would give our country the stability and security we need in a president.”
“…Mr. Agnus McDonald of Scotland,” the anchor added, “has also been vocal…”
“…The sooner the Yanks make up their minds to get the lad back into the White House where he belongs, the better….”

Just then Edith arrived in the Wardroom.
“We need to talk,” I told her firmly. “Posting to social media about that Jules Verne incident? Everyone’s laughing at Lee!”
“You didn’t say the story was confidential. Besides,” she said while grabbing a bran muffin from the counter, and sitting opposite Emmie. “I thought it was charming. And nobody will blame him for a reaction to the meds.”
Winston Suddenly pulled his leash hard enough to move the table.
Will entered, scowl on his face. But that’s not who Winston was whining for.
Slowly, and weakly, using a cane to help support himself, Lee entered and his officers rose in respect. He was wearing a Sick Bay issue yellow fuzzy robe covering his hospital gown. His feet were encased in booties. What showed of his bare arms and legs were covered with bite and claw marks, dark bruises and lacerations, some stitched, others coated with iodine, and some covered with bandages. The stitched laceration on his forehead to his cheek sported iodine. His bruises were darker than from yesterday. The artificial skin patches on his scalp shone like plastic, their heavy stitches attaching them to his viable scalp were a potent reminder of his captivity and torture as well. A Sick Bay green eyepatch emblazoned with SSRN Seaview on it, only emphasized the heavy packing underneath. Ski, in white Sick Bay jumpsuit was right behind him with an empty wheelchair. Just in case.
“I’ve missed …you… too, buddy,” Lee said, as he bent down to pat Winston and free his leash from the table leg. He also unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar. Winston ran in circles around him while Lee set the leash on the table. Lee used the table to help him stand up. “I’m…fine,” he reassured my fellow diners from moving toward him to help and shooed them away as he walked toward my table. “But,” he said, “I admit that my legs do… feel like rubber. Don’t see why, since…. I wasn’t beaten as badly on… them than the rest….of me.”
He didn’t shoo me away as I quickly got up to take his arm to help to the chair from across from me, Mrs. C. coming over to sit beside him, forgetting her plate on her table.
“I slave away,” Will said foully, “all day and night more times than I can count, to keep you alive and this is the thanks I get. Pulling your IV’s and Foley out, not to mention your stitches are coming loose with every move you make, irritating God knows how many of your injuries. I’m the chief medical officer aboard this boat, not that you recognize that fact and.…”
“You’re turning… purple, Will,” Lee interrupted calmly, as Winston immediately put himself between the irate physician and his master, growling.
“Sit, stay,” Lee ordered the dog, then toward Will, “I could… mean you as… well but… I know you wouldn’t listen… I need coffee.”
“I’ll get it,” Joe with several other men saying that at the same time, anxious to assist.
“No coffee or solid food!” Will shouted.
“You should… be happy… to let me have… coffee. It’s considered a drug in some circles. You like… using drugs on me.”
“Admiral, do something!” Will yelled. “His stomach will bleed more and he needs pain killers!”
“Skipper?” Sparks voice came over the PA, “Admiral Cartwright on secure videophone.”
Joe took the mike off the wall and stretched the cord to hand it to Lee.
“My cabin,” Lee reported into the mike. “Give… me a few…minutes.”
Then returning the mike to Joe asked him to give him a hand to his cabin.
“I…I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Lee told him. “C’mon, Winston.”
“You’re too unsteady on his feet and exhausted to walk that far!” Will shouted. “You can’t fool anyone and your cracked ribs and deep tissue bruising make even breathing and speaking difficult, not to mention every move you make. You should be in Sick Bay, resting and…”
“Rather all that… than have a sedated, deluded mind! And I put it …to you, and these witnesses, that if I… was able to get out of Sick Bay….”
“Sneaked out!” Will interrupted, “sneaked out while I was trying to fill a syringe, and the corpsmen were sweeping up the broken equipment!”
“I was able… to get out of… Sick Bay, and all the… way down here…on my own, I don’t need to… be incarcerated there!”
“Why haven’t you sedated him, then?” Jiggs asked.
“He claimed he had a constitutional right to go against medical advice, and he’d report me to the American Medical Association before I could get Morton to order him to let me sedate him…mark my words, Captain, I want it clearly understood I won’t be responsible for the risk you’re taking! And I can ask the president to place you on active status so he can order you sedated!”
“Wanna’ bet?” Lee smirked.
“Hold it, both of you,” I said rising. “Lee still has a call waiting, Will. And the only way to do that is in his cabin or mine. By the time you could walk there, Lee, even with Joe helping you, Cartwright will have hung up in exasperation. Do you really want that? The fastest way to take the call is getting to your cabin by wheelchair. Joe and help Kowalski with it. And even I can see you’re hurting. Isn’t it a medical fact the less pain, the faster one heals? And there’s no sense denying it, is there.”
“You ever… sell used cars?” Lee asked, then to Will, “I’ll make a… deal… with you. I’ll drink as… much water as you… want to stay hydrated. I’ll even let you… sponge me down with …antiseptics and redress my injuries a… couple of times a… day.”
“Or as needed.”
“Or as… needed. I’ll even… take aspirin or Tylenol.”
“No aspirin. It would make any internal or exterior bleeding worse.”
“Okay, Tylenol. But no… Sick Bay painkillers that…. can rob me of… my mind. I also… won’t bunk in Sick Bay. Understood?”
“Will you avoid close contact with the animals? They have dangerous dander and saliva.”
“No, but I’ll… wash my face and… hands before and… after handling them…”
“Any area they’ve touched or licked. And you’ll use disinfectant wipes for any stitched area exposed to them. And they remain in the care of Mrs. Crane.”
“Cartwright’s waiting,” I said. “By way of the wheelchair, Lee.”
“No damn chair!” Lee replied, leaning on the cane. “C’mon, Winston.”
He, the dog, and Joe started to walk toward the door and Lee stopped, already weary, leaning against the door frame.
“Harry? Ski?” he asked without turning.
Joe helped Lee into the wheelchair, and placed Winston on his lap, Ski took the handles, hanging the cane over the back, Joe and I walked beside Lee on each side, and we headed down the companionways to his cabin.
Nobody said anything.

After we’d entered, Joe put Winston on the deck and he and Ski helped Lee to his desk chair, Lee told me to stay. He nodded to the door for Ski and Joe to leave to give us some privacy.
Lee turned the videophone at an angle and I grabbed the other chair to pull next to him. Lee used the intercom to inform Sparks we were ready. The image of Cartwright formed….

“What do you… have for me, Admiral Cartwright?” Lee asked, “for us,” he corrected.
“You look worse than yesterday!”
“Looks… worse than it is,” Lee said, and I raised my eyes heavenward but only so Cartwright would see the lie.
“Two of our agents in the field, working independently of each other, to secure that watch for a forensic exam, are now twice overdue reporting in. Which means the new chairman’s onto them, they’ve gone to ground, or….”
“Or scratch two good… agents,” Lee sighed. “Get…anything from Simpson? It’s a… no brainer that Ozno won’t… cooperate. Have you… told… the president about our new suspicions?”
“Affirmative, but he still thinks we’re jumping to conclusions about a network.”
“Fail… Safe’s internal clock….re-worked?”
“Foolproof now. How soon before you retake command of Seaview? Or is that out of the question just now, though I don’t see any lingering delusions about Jules Verne or anything else ….”
“No way that… I can meet… the fit reps any…time soon, physically,” he stressed. “But I can still…make decisions…and delegate. As long…as…Doc doesn’t put…me…on those damn…painkillers again.”
“I’m not sure. We don’t want you to suffer. Nelson? What do you think? What about half dosage?”
“No,” Lee said. “Too risky. And you know I’ve been…roughed…up before…I can handle the…discomfort.”
“Discomfort?” I exclaimed. “You’re in outright agony!”
“I can handle it, Admiral Nelson,” Lee told me firmly.
“Perhaps I should call back later,” Cartwright said.
“No,” Lee said. “We’ll decide now.”
“How can I let you command Seaview when your pain itself could hinder your cognitive abilities?”
Lee pursed his lips, angry, but he also furrowed his brows in consideration.
“Quarter strength only. And a… scientific test while… under to confirm that it won’t befuddle me. At the first sign if it affects me adversely, Chip takes the conn and I go on dialysis to flush it out.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I said.
“We’ll ll inform the president,” Cartwright said, “welcome back, Captain.”
“Thanks,” Lee said, as I reached across Lee for the intercom and informed Sick Bay that Lee was ready for Doc’s ministrations and to bring a quarter dose of the painkiller.

Will was at the door within minutes. Will had a syringe and vial in hand which he prepared under Lee’s watchful eye. Frank had brought some medical supplies to remove old gauze and bandaging, disinfect Lee’s wounds, and re bandage him, Ski assisting.
“That dog shouldn’t be in here,” Will complained after injecting Lee in the arm.
“Live with it,” Lee said.
“I brought your breakfast,” Will said, pulling out a snack sized Jell-O and nutritional beverage.
“You’re still going to make me eat baby food? I didn’t agree to that, you know.”
“They won’t ulcerate your bruised stomach and GI tract like coffee and solid food would.”
“That is reasonable, Lee,” I said.
“At least let me shave?” he asked as Ski wiped down his face with a disinfectant wipe.
“Not yet,” Will said. “Your skin is still badly bruised. Don’t want to irritate it any further.”
“I’ll tell Chip to expect him in the Control Room, when?” I asked.
“About a half hour. And he’ll be in the chair until I’m convinced he can stand and walk without falling.”
“If,” Lee began, “I’m… not there…in…thirty minutes…have a team come down… to…rescue… me… from Will’s clutches. And I want one of my black eyepatches, not Sick Bay’s. In my top desk drawer.”
Ski retrieved a black eyepatch, and Frank began to remove the packing from Lee’s orbital cavity. The packing was stained with dried blood and the empty hole’s raw tissues were ghoulish. I escaped to my cabin before I was sick.

I knew I’d have nightmares from the image alone.
God only knows how letting, even encouraging Lee to resume work will turn out.