#I do want to do some space travel and setting up several colonies but Im not quite sure how Im going to go about it

[arolesbianism]

I've been chipping at a new oni save recently and I have to say I have gotten way less ambitious with my teleporter planet over my past few saves. In a lot of my earlier saves Id dive right in there, but nowadays I find myself ignoring the teleporter for a good while before dipping in to set up some basic utilities there before leaving again and continuing to stall lol

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 62

Thank you, everyone, for bearing with me on the delays for this chapter.  There was a benefit: @satan-parisienne got to beta the chapter, AND our other sister got caught up all the way in the meantime.

Right now, I’m at 463 followers.  As soon as I hit 500, do we want to do another character contest, or Name the Colony??  I am honestly dying to have all of you name the Colony... I feel like it would make you ALL crew-members of the Ark!

Same warning as always: this is a plague arc, so there are several references to medical procedures.

“There has to be a correlation.”

It was the first thing I heard as I woke up from yet another episode of passing out.  Once again, I had been wandering a dream version of the Ark, complete with ever changing levels of dereliction.  No matter how hard I tried, I was unable to speak with the Else again, however, and if the Council asked anyone else to even try, no one had informed me.

Blearily, I glanced toward the voice that I had heard.  Grey’s hair was ruffled in every direction, as though they had run their hands through it repeatedly.  Antoine was asleep, a tube trailing away from a bandage on his arm – I wasn’t the only one in the room needing transfusions anymore.  Maverick and Conor were berthed on either side of me, blotches taunting me from the skin around their eyes.  Tears pricked at my eyes as I tried to steady my breath before speaking. “How long have you been at it, Grey?”

With a sigh they turned toward me, forcing a kind smile on their face. “Sophia. How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m living in a horror movie. Again,” I groaned. “But seriously. Are the shadows because you’ve been working too much, or are you sick, too?”

“Medical scans only show slightly decreased iron levels from my baseline,” Grey admitted. “But that could also be related to standing and running tests for the last twelve hours.”

I tapped the space beside me in my berth. “Sit down for a minute. Take a break. You know as well as I do that wearing yourself out is counterproductive.” With great reluctance, they folded themselves to sit beside me. “You’re stressed out, aren’t you?” I asked, tapping their fingers gently.

The smile this time was reluctant but genuine. “People are falling ill all over the ship.  I have been trying to find a connection – some common activity that they all may have come into contact with each other during.”

“There’s the Food Festival,” I pointed out.

“Very few Terran viruses have such a long gestation period,” Grey explained. “And those that do, have a much different set of symptoms.  Additionally, in a setting this small, there are precious the majority of the ship do not share.”

“And you have the problem with the platforms,” I realized ruefully before glancing at my partners.

Cool fingers tapped my cheek. “That issue can wait,” Grey admonished gently. “It is not as important as the health of the people on this ship.”

“Speaking of…” I tried to prop myself up on my elbows, but a pointed look from my friend – as effective as any of Tyche’s glares – had me surrendering to leaning back on the pillows again. “Is there anyone on the ship who isn’t sick so far?”

Grey nodded with a grimace. “The number of those not affected numbers in the low double digits, unfortunately.”

“What do they have in common?”

“Hermits, every last one,” a voice announced quietly as the door hissed open. “And that’s saying something, coming from me.”  A tantalizing smell wafted over, setting my mouth and eyes watering as Tyche grinned like the cat who got the cream.  She shoved a forkful of something deep reddish brown into her mouth and moaned. “Phaal curry with scotch bonnets. Why didn’t you tell me about this stuff, Soph?”

“Noah is going to kill you if he comes in here,” I warned. “They have officially deemed that a biohazard.”

Grey winced. “I feel I should deem that a biohazard.  How are you eating that? Where did you even find it?”

“Four menus deep in my sister’s food console when I stopped in to water the plants,” she explained around yet another mouthful. “I warned Noah I have it, and they promised to wait for the scrubbers to clear the room before they come in here.”

“Give me a bite and I won’t complain,” I wheedled.  Noah never let me take that stuff out of my quarters.  “And tell me what you mean by hermits?”

Obligingly, she sauntered over and held out a forkful of nuclear-spicy lamb as she clarified. “The few people who aren’t sick are the ones who haven’t left their quarters since arriving.  They make me and Derek look downright outgoing.”

“Wait,” I sputtered as sweat beaded and started to drip from my quickly-numbing face. “They haven’t left their quarters in over a year?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. “They contribute, but all of it is remotely.  Programming, online tutoring, that sort of thing.”

“Well, that tells us a great deal of nothing,” I sighed. “We can’t even narrow down what activities they haven’t participated in, because they haven’t participated in any.”

“So go the other route,” she shrugged. “Who is the most sick?”

“Nixe,” Grey and I answered in unison.  Our resident mermaid was still holding on, but she hadn’t regained consciousness yet.

“Wait,” I interjected as I realized something. I squinted at my sister. “Your symptoms showed up before Antoine’s. How come you’re up, bouncing around?”

“You kidding?” she cocked an eyebrow at me. “Soph. I’ve lived most of my life with sever anemia. Even now I probably have more in my body than I ever did back on Earth. I feel amazing, by comparison.”

“She also has a habitually high-iron diet,” Grey added, tilting their head and glancing at me. “Current comestibles notwithstanding.”

“That makes sense,” I conceded. “So we can’t even build a timeline around onset of symptoms, can we?”

“Negative.  Several people on the ship have high-iron diets for various reasons. Particularly your sister and Maverick.”

I rolled my head to left and squinted. “Really?  He’s one of the pickiest eaters I know.”

“Spinach, tofu, red meat,” they started ticking off on their fingers. “Lentils and other legumes, pumpkin seeds, broccoli, and organ meats are among the foods with the highest iron content.”

My eyes widened. “You practically listed Maverick’s entire diet, Grey.”

“I am well aware.  I do monitor his nutrition closely, as he still has to prove he has consumed sufficient healthy calories in order to start his daily shift.”

“Huh,” I grunted. “So, he could have been sick the longest and we are just now seeing it?”

“While I highly doubt it, your theory is somewhat correct.”

“Weh di’ oo geh ‘im oo ee ohgah mee?” Tyche asked delicately around the last of her curry.

“Conor likes kidney pie, black pudding, and liver with onions,” I explained, trying not to wince at my sister’s breathtaking lack of manners and reminding myself that she just found out she can eat food she only dreamed of trying in the past.

She gulped, a look of revulsion on her face. “Liver and onions? That’s disgusting.”

As Grey completely lost their composure and gaped openly at the statement, I shrugged and soldiered on. “Not my idea of a good time, either, but they like it, so it’s their bonding time.”

“Surely not all three at once?”

“Christ, no. I would kill them if they ate kidney pie without me.”

“Okay, just checking.”  Tyche made her way to a disposal and made Noah aware that the curry had vacated the premises.

By this point, Grey was absentmindedly scratching at the rash that appeared from simply being near the dish.  “Can one of you explain to me how someone even eats something like that?  My eyes are burning just from being near food that spicy?”

“Ask her,” Tyche gestured. “I’m still figuring this out.”

I scowled at being put on the spot before turning to our friend. “I’ve always loved spicy food,” I admitted. “And I’ve never had any digestive issues with it. As I got older, I tried spicier and spicier food. It’s all so – vibrant. So full of flavor. Sure, you have some stuff that is just spicy for the sake of being painful, and I hate that kind of food. It’s just hate and spite made into food. No one should do that.” I sighed, struggling with my words. “Most spicy foods are ethnic foods, and I always liked being able to enjoy the ‘full’ version, for lack of a better term.  Being able to go to any country and say ‘I want to eat this the way you eat it,’ and mean that.  It just opens so many doors.”

“And it isn’t just spicy food,” Tyche pitched in. “She found this old show once, where this guy went around the world and tried weird native foods, and that was always her dream.  Every chance she got to travel like that, she tried the weirdest, most disgusting foods she could, just because she knew she wouldn’t get sick.”

“What was the worst?” Grey asked.  When we looked at each other in doubt, they laughed quietly. “It helps me get my mind off of all this.” They waved vaguely at the lab equipment. “So, tell me.  I never got to travel much before this.  I would like to hear.”

“Well,” I started hesitantly. “I only managed to choke down one bite of balut, but that may be more squeamish heart than squeamish stomach. Anything involving hard fat or cartilage is just right out, sorry.  I can’t get past the texture.  Once I got past the smell, durian was actually pretty good.  Most bugs are really nutty and delicious, surprisingly.  Balut was probably the one I liked the least. But – “ I held up my hands in a defensive posture. “I literally don’t remember what it tasted like, I couldn’t get my mind past the thought of what I was eating, so take that for what you will.”

Grey paled slightly as they looked the dish up on their datapad. “People eat that?”

Tyche nodded. “Yep.  I don’t get it either, but it’s a delicacy.”

They paled further as they looked up other dishes and confirmed I had tried them. “How did you not get ill?”

“Cast iron stomach,” Tyche and I explained, laughing at ourselves for responding in synch.

“Cast iron stomach, indeed,” they murmured.  Suddenly, their head snapped up.  They stared intently at the wall behind me before squinting slightly. “Cast iron…”

Without explanation, Grey jumped up from my berth, brushing past my sister on their way to the lab equipment. “Iron.  Whatever we are looking for is impacting iron absorption and red blood cell function. – “ Tyche and I looked at each other in confusion as Grey continued their impression of a rambling mad-scientist. “But nutritive iron does have elemental iron as part of the molecule…” Images flickered around the researcher as they scanned through notes and images; expanding this one, discarding that one, squinting at a few. “What if we are segregating the two for no reason… bacteria are bacteria, and the tail failed, too.”

The tail failed? Tyche mouthed at me. I shrugged, lost as she was.  We stared on in concern as Grey muttered, only half-audibly, into the night.

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