Deep Storm by Lincoln Child Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lincoln Child
If there had been pain, I would have mentioned it, wouldnt I?
These people arent presenting with caisson disease, Crane said. At least, no variant Im aware of. I guess I dont see the concern. Problems with concentration or focus, constipation, nauseathats all non-specific. It could simply be work-induced stress. Its an unusual environment and an unusual assignment, after all.
Im not through, Bishop said. Over the last week, the problems have grown worse. Three cases of cardiac arrhythmia in people with no history of heart disorders. A woman with bilateral weakness of the hands and face. And two others suffered what appeared to be transient ischemic attacks.
TIAs? Crane said. How extensive?
Partial paralysis, slurred speech, lasting in each case less than two hours.
What were their ages?
Late twenties and early thirties.
Really? Crane frowned. That seems awfully young for a stroke. Two strokes, at that. You did neurological workups?
Dr. Crane, please. Of course we did neurological workups. Non-contrast cranial CT scans; EKGs to check for cardioembolic event triggers; the rest. Theres no EEG on the station you know theyre mainly used for seizure disorders or coma but in any case it wasnt necessary here. Except for evidence of stroke, everything was completely normal.
Once again the tartness had crept into her tone. Shes territorial, Crane thought. This is her turf and she doesnt like me stepping on it.
Even so, he said, its the first evidence of dysbarism Ive heard today.
Dysbarism? Corbett asked, blinking through his round glasses.
Decompression sickness. Caisson disease.
Bishop sighed. Actually, I believe that caisson disease is the one thing we can safely rule out.
Why? I assumed Crane fell silent. He realized that Asher had never told him outright what the problem was. Given the nature of the Deep Storm station, hed assumed caisson disease.
Im sorry, he went on more slowly. I guess I dont understand why, exactly, you people asked for me.
Howard Asher asked for you, Bishop said. And for the first time, she smiled. A brief silence fell over the conference room.
Have you been able to isolate any commonalities? Crane asked. Do the patients all work on the same level or in the same general area of the Facility?
Bishop shook her head. Weve received patients from most of the decks and from all general work areas.
So theres no common vector. And no common complaint. It all seems like coincidence to me. Just how many patients, total, have you received?
Roger and I figured that out while we were waiting for you. Bishop took a sheet of paper from her lab coat pocket and glanced at it. The Facility has been operational almost five months. On average, between mental health services and medical, we see perhaps fifteen patients a week. In the past, nothing worse than a case of strep. But since this thing started, weve seen one hundred and three.
Crane was stunned. One hundred and three? My God, thats
A quarter of the population, Dr. Crane. And far, far too large a number to be coincidence.
And she stuffed the paper back into her pocket with something almost like triumph.
Chapter 7
Crane stood in the silence of his quarters on deck 10, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The room was small, and like the rest of the Facility softly lit. There was a narrow bed, two chairs, a walk-in dressing alcove, and a desk with a terminal that was linked to the Facilitys central network. Beside the desk, a comm unit set into the wall allowed Crane to dial the Medical suite, reseve a lane at the bowling alley, even order a pizza delivery from Times Square. Save for a large flat-panel television, the light-blue walls were devoid of prints or decoration.
There were two doors of the same strange platinum-hued metal hed seen elsewhere, but here they were tastefully edged in blond wood. One led to the outside corridor, the other to
These people arent presenting with caisson disease, Crane said. At least, no variant Im aware of. I guess I dont see the concern. Problems with concentration or focus, constipation, nauseathats all non-specific. It could simply be work-induced stress. Its an unusual environment and an unusual assignment, after all.
Im not through, Bishop said. Over the last week, the problems have grown worse. Three cases of cardiac arrhythmia in people with no history of heart disorders. A woman with bilateral weakness of the hands and face. And two others suffered what appeared to be transient ischemic attacks.
TIAs? Crane said. How extensive?
Partial paralysis, slurred speech, lasting in each case less than two hours.
What were their ages?
Late twenties and early thirties.
Really? Crane frowned. That seems awfully young for a stroke. Two strokes, at that. You did neurological workups?
Dr. Crane, please. Of course we did neurological workups. Non-contrast cranial CT scans; EKGs to check for cardioembolic event triggers; the rest. Theres no EEG on the station you know theyre mainly used for seizure disorders or coma but in any case it wasnt necessary here. Except for evidence of stroke, everything was completely normal.
Once again the tartness had crept into her tone. Shes territorial, Crane thought. This is her turf and she doesnt like me stepping on it.
Even so, he said, its the first evidence of dysbarism Ive heard today.
Dysbarism? Corbett asked, blinking through his round glasses.
Decompression sickness. Caisson disease.
Bishop sighed. Actually, I believe that caisson disease is the one thing we can safely rule out.
Why? I assumed Crane fell silent. He realized that Asher had never told him outright what the problem was. Given the nature of the Deep Storm station, hed assumed caisson disease.
Im sorry, he went on more slowly. I guess I dont understand why, exactly, you people asked for me.
Howard Asher asked for you, Bishop said. And for the first time, she smiled. A brief silence fell over the conference room.
Have you been able to isolate any commonalities? Crane asked. Do the patients all work on the same level or in the same general area of the Facility?
Bishop shook her head. Weve received patients from most of the decks and from all general work areas.
So theres no common vector. And no common complaint. It all seems like coincidence to me. Just how many patients, total, have you received?
Roger and I figured that out while we were waiting for you. Bishop took a sheet of paper from her lab coat pocket and glanced at it. The Facility has been operational almost five months. On average, between mental health services and medical, we see perhaps fifteen patients a week. In the past, nothing worse than a case of strep. But since this thing started, weve seen one hundred and three.
Crane was stunned. One hundred and three? My God, thats
A quarter of the population, Dr. Crane. And far, far too large a number to be coincidence.
And she stuffed the paper back into her pocket with something almost like triumph.
Chapter 7
Crane stood in the silence of his quarters on deck 10, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The room was small, and like the rest of the Facility softly lit. There was a narrow bed, two chairs, a walk-in dressing alcove, and a desk with a terminal that was linked to the Facilitys central network. Beside the desk, a comm unit set into the wall allowed Crane to dial the Medical suite, reseve a lane at the bowling alley, even order a pizza delivery from Times Square. Save for a large flat-panel television, the light-blue walls were devoid of prints or decoration.
There were two doors of the same strange platinum-hued metal hed seen elsewhere, but here they were tastefully edged in blond wood. One led to the outside corridor, the other to
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