Episode Three: Eggs #6

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"What kind of hotel is this?" Lucinda demanded, looking around the main lounge of the medical wing.

"Wow," Bankim whispered. He had seemed in a bad mood most of the morning for reasons Dhanvin couldn't guess at. Now his natural curiosity had gotten the better of him. "I've never seen a brain so covered in dendrals like that. What do you call it again?"

"Alzheimers," Charles said. "Surely you can help her, with your technology."

Dhanvin didn't like Charles Hill. He tried to reflect, to figure out why. He usually liked people, but this man... what was the idiom they used? He rubbed Dhanvin the wrong way, that was it.

"I'm sure we can," Bankim said.

"But's it's going to take time," Katja finished at his side. "Never seen a case so advanced..."

"What are you two looking at?" Lucinda asked.

Bankim's face became a mask and then a false smile. "Ma'am, I apologize for the outer appearance of our hotel. However I assure you our spa facilities, while they may not look like much, are the best in the solar system. Truly you will feel so much better."

"A mud bath?" Lucinda's face perked up. "Yes, I think that would be excellent."

"There's one on sixteen above," Katja began. Bankim elbowed her.

"Mud baths are great, but first you really must try the... exfoliating pink goo baths." He winked at Katja, who was giving him a guarded look. "We have several tanks right down this way."

Katja started to lead Lucinda down towards the treatment tanks. Bankim turned to Dhanvin and Charles. "Just something we've learned," he replied, defensive. "When she's done with her treatment she'll be mentally clearer, and we can tell her the truth. But right now we must, do what we have to, as Officer Fox would say."

"Officer Fox," Dhanvin explained to Charles as Bankim went to help Katja. "Is our chief security officer. He and Bankim have been helping the various mental cases that have some how found their way onto our station."

Charles was nodding. "No, he's right. There is no reasoning with her. Not until. Do you think they can cure her for real?"

"They say they can," Dhanvin said.

"Good then let's talk about Lucy's and my stay here," Charles said.

They adjourned to a side office that Dhanvin had set up for his personal use.

"I am a man of means," Charles began as they settled. "Only I'm not sure how to make use of those means. Perhaps you can advise me in this."

And this perhaps is what rubs me wrong, Dhanvin thought. The others that had come up, most didn't have the wit to trick their way onboard. Instead they just sort of slipped through, an oversight by a diplomat or pity on the part of some guard. They had nothing, they only wanted a new start somewhere else.

But Charles was a man of means. He was brash, arrogant. He not only thought it was okay to have tricked his way onto the station and into their medical unit, he thought himself quite clever.

"I know some people are buying energy and reselling it as a stop gap for a real currency exchange," Dhanvin began.

"Won't do, won't do. Have you seen the exchange rate? It favors your side heavily right now."

"Once we have trade relations..."

"It will still likely favor your side, I know," Charles groused.

"I've been able to find part time work for a couple of the others," Dhanvin offered. "Enough to not tax them, but pay enough to provide what few basics they wish to purchase."

Charles seemed offended by the suggestion. "I'm nearly seventy. I've worked my whole life. I've built businesses. Now I'm back to flipping burgers?"

Dhanvin's brow scrunched, not sure what Charles meant by flipping burgers. Was that some idiom he wasn't aware of? Then his anger flared. The man didn't want to spend the money he had on the surface because of the exchange rate, but then didn't want to work? What did he expect of Dhanvin?

Before he could reply, Bankim was at the door. Dhanvin gestured him, grateful for the chance to cool down and think through his response before he said something impolite.

"I've had a chance to look at a better scan of your wife's brain," Bankim said.

"And?"

"It's a very advanced case," Bankim said.

"Just tell me you can help her," Charles said, distress in his eyes. "Something, anything."

That moment of anguish softened Dhanvin's impression of the man.

"Yes, yes," Bankim said. "We can straighten the dendrites back out, make things function again. It's only, this disease affects memory storage and..."

"And what?"

"She'll recover the ability to make memories," Bankim said. "Slowly. She might even recover some long term memories from before. But there will be, gaps."

"Gaps," Charles was astounded. "By god, man. That's nothing! To see such a brave, smart woman brought down. Years, years she would deteriorate a little more each month, each day sometimes. I watched on, helpless. Some gaps? If you can bring my wife back, even stop her loss. I will be eternally grateful. I will do whatever I must." He turned towards Dhanvin, his voice fierce. "I'll take a job if I must, and raise such money this wing won't want for nothing. Just bring my wife back to me."

Dhanvin gripped the man's hand and said a small prayer to the watcher that he saw this side of Charles before he gave the man angry words.

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