I was organizing a storage closet, for want of anything better to do on a long trip between space stations, when Paint appeared at the door with a message from Eggskin.
“They want your help doing something in the medbay,” Paint said, blinking in a particularly lizardlike way. Everything she did was lizardlike, because she looked like an orange lizard, but that blink was more lizardy than most. “They didn’t say what.”
“Well, this can certainly wait,” I said. Scooping up the unsorted shipping labels and alien packing tape (good stuff), I shoved it all back on the nearest shelf and headed for the medical bay.
I’d helped Eggskin with a number of things at this point, since my veterinarian training was handy and so was I. Also I was much taller than the little Heatseeker. Very useful when tending to tall crewmates, and reaching supplies that somebody had stashed on top of a cabinet instead of inside it. The medbay was very small.
Today I was greeted by the sight of a medbay that was far messier than the storage closet had been. Eggskin stood among containers and tools laid out on every flat surface, their scaly arms crossed, glaring at the jars on the examination table. The good doctor-slash-ship’s-cook looked mightily peeved. Which is a funny expression on a yellow-green lizardy type who was elbow height at best. But of course I didn’t say so.
“Hi,” I said. “You called?”
“Yes!” Eggskin lit up, and scrambled for a sensor tool. “Show me your hands.”
I did, waiting for an explanation.
The sensor scanned my palms, then beeped. Eggskin grumbled at the readout. “Mmf. Too cold.”
“Too cold for what?” I asked, feeling my own fingers. “They seem fine to me.”
Eggskin waved their own clawed hand as if brushing the question away. “What would you say is the hottest part of your body?”
“Uh, the inside? Is this a trick question?” I wondered if, despite Eggskin’s vast knowledge, they really weren’t that familiar with warmblooded species.
Another hand wave. “No, no. Sorry. It’s just—” Eggskin gestured toward the closest jars. “These are expired, and we will definitely want them on our next planetside landing, just in case, so I have to mix more.” The doctor paused for breath. “The components need to be stirred at a certain temperature, or else they won’t set right.”
“Dooooo you,” I said slowly, “Want me to put the jars in my armpits and jump around?”
Eggskin didn’t say anything, but raised the temperature sensor. Thinking dignified thoughts, I let my armpits be measured for heat levels.
“That should work,” Eggskin said.
“How long will I have to jump?”
Eggskin’s wince of regret was a toothy one. “Two minutes.”
I heaved a gusty sigh. “Yeah, okay. Can I play music to make it fun?”
The doctor nodded solemnly, gathering ingredients. “Take your pick. A fresh stock of dart-leech antidote is worth two minutes of auditory discomfort.”
I got out my phone. “I suppose it’s worth some jumping around too,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure you’re not likely to film this for laughing about later.”
Eggskin opened a jar. “It hadn’t even occurred to me. But if this works, I may call on your incubation skills in the future.”
“I look forward to it with great anticipation,” I said with only a little bit of sarcasm. And a lot of dance music at my fingertips.
The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!
