A Visit to the Navigator

Yeardley receives a comm. from his doctor.

"I'd like to have a follow-up and exit interview, Yeardley," Dr. Mores tells him. "Just so I can write up a final evaluation and so we can make sure your records are complete. I also have a copies of all your paperwork and prescriptions for transfer to Dr. Pauvre, if you want to make her your primary-care physician. Can we meet at Pinerest?"

Yeardley scratched his head. He only met Min not long ago when they had dinner on their first night on the ship. He didn't know her well, but he also didn't know Dr. Mores, either. Someone needed to prescribe his medicine on the journey and Dr. Mores might not always be available via comms. Dozens of scenarios started to flood his head.

Did Min know enough to prescribe medicine? She wasn't a psychologist, to his knowledge. What if she didn't prescribe the correct dosages? She mentioned working in an earthy place - what if she decided modern science wasn't good enough and I needed to take a more alternative medicine? Yeardley wasn't opposed to trying new things, but they never went well in the past at Pinerest. Every time he was taken off the accepted barrage of medicines was disastrous. What if Min gets hurt or sick or we get shipwrecked or or or...

Going back to Pinerest wasn't an easy task. He knew it was the best place for him, but he grew tired and bored of the same walls. There were far worse places to be locked up, but that didn't make him feel much better. He was slightly annoyed that they didn't do a final evaluation before he left.

"Hi Dr. Mores. We still have a lot of setting up to do here, so if we can avoid..."

He was about to ask him if he could transfer the medical records electronically to Min to save the trip, but then he thought he should ask Dr. Mores about Min in person. There might be some important context that would be lost in an electronic communication if he wasn't there to see Mores' face.

"...actually, I'll come right over. The offices might be closed by the time the transport gets there. Will you wait for me?"

"I'm on call this week, so my schedule's already cleared," Mores replies. "Just let the staff nurse on duty know you're here to see me and they'll take you right to my office. Don't worry."

"Okay, see you later."

Yeardley marked the pipe with a marker that he was handling so that it could be identified from the other segments later. He was rebuilding one of the conduits near the entrance of the ship so that cables to the broken communications station can be spliced into the ship's wiring. Normally, all the interfaces and stations are wireless, and he thought it strange this one was never upgraded. Then again, here he was connecting terminals and he didn't have the supplies to make it all wireless, so maybe whoever did the original wiring was in a similar situation with constrained monetary funds.

It was for the best, though. Aboard GAF frigates, the wireless communications would pick up strange interference that shut down the stations. Who knows what they were; cosmic rays, solar winds, or local radio stations, or maybe a strange amalgamation of all three. The crew would just wait out until the wireless came back again, so hard-wired was preferable in a lot of ways.

Walking down the main hallway and around the corner by the bridge, he went to one of the staterooms where the door was cracked open a bit. He slowed down and stammered his steps such that no sound would disturb anyone. He could see Lani upon the bed. Yeardley lightly knocked against the door, and heard "Come in?" from within. It was a quick response, indicating she was just resting her eyes. He was relieved that he did not awake her from a deep sleep. She did not open her eyes as he pushed the door open another inch.

"I've got to go see Dr. Mores one last time to transfer some prescriptions. It is an hour to and from Pinerest, so it may be late before I return. I hear I should be safe."

"It sounds lovely. Tell Dr. Mores that I said hello?" Yeardley always thought a lady's voice was more pleasant when near a period of rest, and Lani's voice was no different.

"I will." Yeardley returned the door to its starting crack width.

It took a little over an hour to get back to Pinerest in the transport. Yeardley showed his Pinerest identification card to the guard in the station and worked his way up the winding forest roads to the main complex. The front doors were locked, but he showed his card to the camera and scanner. The on-duty nurse came to greet him a minute later and led him down the hallways to Dr. Mores's office. It felt strange walking through the hallways in plain clothes like a visitor rather than an inhabitant.

Dr. Mores rises as Cole enters. "There you are. Glad you made it out here. I promise not to keep you too long, Yeardley."

Reclaiming his seat, he gestures to the empty chair opposite the desk. "You're shipping out in about a month, hm? How do you like the ship? She feel spaceworthy?"

"So far, it seems okay. The communications station could use an overhaul and the wiring is a bit flimsy, but we're on a budget. I hope they aren't expecting much from me, because I'll be a bit limited by the equipment."

There was usually lots of silence in meetings with Dr. Mores, but this is the first time it felt uncomfortable. It was an extreme role-reversal to talk with him on equal grounds and not superior doctor to subservient patient.

"You said you have my prescriptions and records ready?"

"Yes," Mores says, nodding. "I can transfer them over to Dr. Pauvre. That way, no matter where you are, so long as you're at a GA pharmacy, she can have them filled for you." He regards Yeardley. "If that's...all right?"

"...Sure...I just met her briefly the other night. She seems fine. I'm not really sure what kind of medicine she practices. Do you think that it wouldn't be okay? What if...something strange happens? Will she know how to handle it?

"I don't know. I have her credentials - she's a GP with solid schooling and training. I think she'll be fine. But I'll make sure to check in with her regularly. And if you're not comfortable with her diagnosing you, we can set it up that I'm still your primary physician and she's a consultant." He smiles. "I think you'll be all right, but we'll do whatever's comfortable for you, Yeardley."

"That sounds fine...the consultant thing. It sounds like the net effect would be the same anyway. Hopefully we'll get lucky and it will all be smooth sailing with no episodes."

"Do you feel pretty confident that you'll be okay out there?" Mores asks, making some notes on his datapad. "Your time here was uneventful, but I don't know if that's because you were doing fine, or because you were here and not outside."

Yeardley breathed in deeply and cupped his hands behind his neck. "I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders dejectedly. "I go where they tell me to go." He slowly breathed out. "They've been pretty quiet for a long time. I'm not sure if that means anything."

Yeardley and Dr. Mores locked gazes as ten full seconds of silence passed. Dr. Mores knew that Yeardley could never truly be safe as long as Adam, Auv'e, and the dozen others were swimming in his gray matter. As a psychiatrist, he can only claim Yeardley wasn't a danger based on his past history. The voices seemed to only speak of helping others and keeping people in need, and himself, safe. Would Yeardley even respond if they asked differently? Adam and Auv'e never told Yeardley to murder half of Pinerest's staff and take the other half hostage. Hopefully his seven shipmates would see the same string of luck that Pinerest did.

This was Dr. Mores' greatest fear. It might just be luck that Yeardley hasn't yet been a danger to himself or anyone else. One string of bad refills or a shipwreck for a week could change everything in the blink of an eye. For a few seconds, he pondered how legally liable he could be if the crew of the Embry-Riddle, and maybe the entire colony where they docked, were found with a dozen stab wounds each because Yeardley had a bad dream. A patient that Dr. Mores signed over to free society as being fit for interplanetary travel.

But Mores' hands were tied. Yeardley had a clean history and there was no medically ethical way to field-test him. Maybe three dozen grieving spouses and twelve dozen grieving parents and children were reason enough to get a little medically unethical.

Yeardley could almost feel his hair being tousled as he heard Auv'e soothing voice say, "Don't worry, my love. We'll never let them hurt you." He tilted his head as if to meet the embrace of a lover on his neck.