Martian Legacy Chapter 4

 Jay dropped back about five yards and started easing to the right in his lazy loping stride. In addition to being mission captain and a fine pilot, he was also a pretty good quarterback. Right now he and several other guys from the space center were spending a little quality time with the old pigskin. Jay scanned the field and saw that Phil King was way down field in the open all by himself. Jay cocked back his arm and let fly a beautiful spiral with a trajectory that sent it high over everyone's head to seemingly float back down gently into Phil's hands. Phil turned and headed for the end zone when an overzealous competitor made a diving tackle that hit Phil just above the knees.

 

Phil went down hard in an awkward twist that looked as painful as it obviously felt. The errant tackler was apologizing before he even got up, “Oh man, I'm sorry Phil. I got carried away. Are you alright? I'm so stupid.” Phil flexed his knee and grimaced as a jolt of pain flared, but then he smiled and said “I think every thing's OK. My knee twisted a little, but it's not too bad.” He got up and brushed himself off as the rest of the players gathered around. “I'd better let the doc take a look just in case.” As he made his way to the nearest door Jay called out “Phil, that was one awesome catch dude. You've got good hands.” “Thanks”, Phil replied, “If only the ladies knew that.” Everyone was chuckling as Phil slipped inside.

 

As soon as the door closed behind him Phil nearly collapsed. He clutched at his knee and leaned against the wall for support as a sheen of sweat popped out on his forehead. The pain was excruciating, but he couldn't let anyone know or they would replace him on the Mars mission with one of the back-ups. He just had to be on that mission, not going was simply not an option he could live with. He limped along the hallway trying to use the wall as a crutch to take some of the weight off of his knee. After what seemed like an eternity of supreme effort, Phil found himself at the door to his own room. Each of the members of the mission had their own private room, which was quite a treat compared to the communal dorms they were used to. Phil staggered over to a bookshelf in his living room, selected a volume and opened it up. From a recess inside he removed a small wireless phone. He punched one of the speed dial buttons as he made his way to a small sofa and collapsed onto it. “It's me”, he said, “I need a doctor for my knee.” He then put the phone back inside the book and laid the book on a nearby end table as he put his head back and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

 

Twenty minutes later Phil's door opened and in walked a man in a janitor's uniform pushing a cart of cleaning supplies. The janitor handed Phil a pill and a bottle of water. “Take this”, he said as he picked up the book and returned it to the bookshelf. He then opened a hidden compartment on the side of the push cart and started removing medical supplies. He took an instrument that looked like a hair dryer with a small video screen on it and pointed it at Phil's knee as he adjusted some settings on it. A small greenish image of Phil's bones could be clearly seen on the small video screen. The janitor waved the instrument slowly back and forth as he studied the image. “Nothing broken”, he said. “Ligaments are still attached, but there is a small tear. Painful, but not a major problem.” He put the instrument down and started loading a syringe from a vial of clear liquid.

 

“The steroids have given you good muscle mass, but the weak link will always be the ligaments and tendons.” The janitor stuck the needle into Phil's knee and slowly pushed the plunger. “This will act as a cushion while helping to prevent pain and swelling.” He loaded another syringe and gave Phil a shot in the arm. “This also is for pain and a powerful anti-inflammatory. I will leave you some pills to keep you pain free until it heals.” The janitor rummaged around in the supply cart and produced a tin of Altoids. “These are for pain. Take one every twelve hours, and don't let anyone else get hold of them. We don't want you accused of abusing drugs.” He packed away his instruments and closed up the supply cart. “Try not to aggravate the injury with anything too strenuous. You should be able to do all your normal activities by morning.” With that the janitor pushed his cart to the door and disappeared into the the hall.

 

Phil leaned back and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He began to breath easier as the shots took effect. He tentatively worked his knee a little, and felt satisfied that it would be better soon. He opened a drawer on the end table and took out a small ancient looking book. He opened it to a marked page and began reading. There were no words or letters in this book, just a series of runes that resembled hieroglyphics. Phil smiled as he effortlessly translated the meaning of each symbol. He had been trained to read the sacred writing as a young boy, and he loved to read over and over the story of his ancestors and how they made the great voyage. Having been re-energized by the familiar story, he put the book away and took a few steps around the living room. He would have to show up at the mess hall in a few minutes, and he needed to be able to convince the others that his knee was fine. He smiled inwardly as he realized that his place on the mission was safe.