“Sushchestvuyet yeshche odin nepriyatnyy zadachey. Kuvayev neobkhodimo sderzhivat'. On soglasilsya na eto.”
At this, there were several soft murmurs for the first time since he started addressing them.
“This unexpected emergency has caught us all by surprise. But, my friends, we can work together and resolve this matter.”
“Etot neozhidannyy avariynyy poymal nas vsekh vrasplokh. No , druz'ya moi, my mozhem rabotat' vmeste i reshit' etot vopros.”
“I have nothing more to say. Thank you all for your friendship and support.”
“Ya ne imeyu nichego bol'she, chtoby skazat'. Spasibo vam vsem za vashu druzhbu i podderzhku. I tak zakanchivayetsya razglagol'stvovaniya o nashem bezumnom amerikanskogo tovarishcha.”
Hamlin suspected that there was something extra in that last statement. A few of the crew smirked a little.
“Have you finished?” Sokolov asked.
“Yes. Thanks. To everyone. It wasn’t as inspirational as I wanted it to be.” What Hamlin was really thinking was how much his words sounded like propaganda despite his desire to accomplish the opposite.
Konstantine spoke. “You did fine. What do you want us to do now?”
Lena spoke from the far corner of the table. “How can we help?”
“How do we proceed from here, Doctor?” Sokolov asked.
The day was just getting started, but he felt weary already.
“I think I’m ready to let you take over. Or at the very least we should start working as a team right now.”
“Very well. The two immediate items on our agenda are tending to both of our comrades.” Sokolov hesitated before continuing. “Does anyone feel like helping to secure Dr. Kuvayev? You are free to consult with him about this manner before proceeding, if you wish. Those who will be coming into contact with our two comrades will need to wear respiratory protection. This is available in the storage room down the hall.”
In the spirit of cooperation, volunteers stepped forward and the tasks at hand began. The training they had all received before coming here along with the professional makeup of the staff combined to prevent any wholesale panic. Apparently there was still sufficient trust in Sokolov’s ability to see them through this to keep them calm under duress. In regards to the ailing doctor, Hamlin didn’t help with the strapping, but he did venture in and have a conversation with Kuvayev. If the only actual medical doctor became incoherent, somebody needed to have an idea on how to react in terms of administering medication. Kuvayev was happy for the company and the conversation. Clearly he was very stressed about his possible future physical deterioration. He left explicit instructions on how he wanted to be treated if his condition became similar to Pechkin. Hamlin reluctantly agreed to his wishes. He hoped the worst-case contingency would simply never occur.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lunch was late. That was because everyone wanted to finish what had to be done before stopping. It had been a long morning.
Kuvayev was now strapped down securely. He was clearly uncomfortable, and various crew members had ignored the possible health risks to put on respirators and take turns staying with him and responding to his various requests for water and other adjustments to aid with his comfort. Hamlin had insisted that special effort and attention had gone into cleaning and maintaining the bite wound. The skin around it had a nasty red color and some swelling was evident. So far, the fever had been kept in check by medication. They still had other options if necessary, such as stripping off his clothes, cooling the room itself, and applying cold compresses.
Pechkin was removed and placed in one of the outlying sheds. The cold would do a good job of preserving his body. He had been well wrapped by several members of the drilling crew who had known him best. It had been a sad and touching procession as he was somberly transported to his temporary resting place.
Eating was performed as if it was a task. There were conversations, but they were subdued and encapsulated. Sokolov actually asked the crew what they wanted to do for the afternoon. The proposition of returning to a normal work schedule was offered but not insisted upon. For most, it was an easy decision. The only members of the crew that didn’t eagerly accept the opportunity were the two who agreed to stay and provide constant attention and monitoring for Dr. Kuvayev. A list of emergency contacts was established in the event that his condition started to deteriorate.
Hamlin was more than happy to be back in the lab. His main hope for the remainder of the day was to work quietly without interruption—a desire spurred by the fact that he was on the emergency list for Kuvayev. The old adage of no news is good news had never been so strongly applicable.
After consultation with Sokolov, he had decided to forego any new research on the actual lake water samples, at least for now. There were too many unanswered questions about the origin of the virus that was now plaguing them. He worked, with caution and all protocols for safety firmly in place, on some of the older samples taken from the ice itself.
The drilling crew kept busy trying to design a mechanism that would prevent any further backflow through the borehole from creating another geyser in their enclosure. Even if they could divert the flow of lake water through a sluice of some sort and direct it outside, they felt the likelihood of toxic exposure would be greatly reduced. They could then resume the task of drilling for more samples. No one at the station wanted to shut down just to spend months looking at the wall and twiddling their thumbs while waiting for the weather to become suitable for incoming flights to resume.
The afternoon expired with no ill effects, and Hamlin was dressing for the ride back to the crew quarters before Konstantine could control himself no longer and asked the big question.
“Do you think Kuvayev will be all right?”
The question hung in the air like a bad odor left in an elevator by a flatulent but anonymous rider. Should he answer honestly or with optimism which amounted to a sort of propaganda?
“I don’t know,” Francis replied, opting for honesty. “But nobody came to get me, so I would presume that means he has gone through the afternoon in good shape. If that’s the case, it is a very good sign. Poor Pechkin deteriorated very quickly. Perhaps the extra attention and medical assistance that Kuvayev is enjoying with allow his immune system to ward this off.”
The conversation was left at that. To agree seemed like blatant pandering and to disagree felt like condemning a friend, which didn’t leave a lot to talk about. Very few conversations here revolved around the weather. So, I heard it’s going to be cold today…really, that’s surprising, what about tomorrow…?
The sound of the approaching Cat was welcome news. Following in Konstantine’s example, Hamlin immediately asked about Kuvayev’s condition.
Sokolov hesitated before answering. Francis supposed it was the ingrained tendency to withhold and control the flow of information that restricted his ability to just blurt out the answer.
“He is battling heroically. His temperature continues to climb, but we have been successful in keeping it somewhat in check. Currently, he is around one hundred and two degrees (which Sokolov now presented in Fahrenheit so Hamlin could understand its significance). This is quite warm, but he is still relatively comfortable and quite lucid. He is drinking a lot of fluids and completely cooperating with all of our efforts to assist him. I don’t think he is entirely at ease with the notion that we felt his clothing should be temporarily removed, however.”
Both of his passengers smiled at that thought.