#aliteraryexperiment

Hey, Greg Hopper here to talk a bit about Tevgos-11. Yes, this is going to be self-indulgent and maybe more than a little pretentious. Screw it, I'm a writer talking about my writing, what else did you expect? 

I wrote this story a few years ago. I think it's one of my most solid pieces. It's certainly my most successful. I actually won a cash prize for this one. There's really something to be said for coming up with an idea and getting the whole thing down on paper in a single day. I wish I could do that with novels... Me and every writer out there, I bet. Well, it would kill some of the magic... Damn. Did you guys know writing was complicated?

Anyway, I got the idea for what became Tevgos sitting in an English class, talking about the effects of disease on indigenous societies. I just started thinking about what that could do on a spaceship, with a large population in tight quarters. I had the name Tevgos-11 floating around (Get it? Get it? It's a spaceship! Yeah, you can slap me.) in one of my many documents of names and concepts I've scraped together over the years, so I ran with it. The initial draft took me about three hours, I think, and had just under 2,000 words. I think that was my most productive three hours of writing I'd ever had at that point. Totally neglected a paper for it, but whatever. I lived and learned. Tevgos was worth it.

I've done a few drafts since, but it's been untouched for more than a year, I'd trimmed it down to under 1,500, but it had lost some of its punch. So, I fleshed out a few things again this time around, mostly Zachary's reactions. He always felt just a little flat... I think I made him a little more human. That's one of the things about writing they just don't teach you in school. You can rework and rewrite until your fingers bleed, and you'll still have problems with your work. I've never met a writer who knew what the hell they were talking about that actually considered their work perfect. I'd love to know one, if you know them, because then I would know probably one of the best writers of the generation. But, I digress. Eventually you hit a point where you just have to throw up your arms and say "Good enough!". Then you throw it to the wolves, and they rip it into bloody shreds, and you cry. There's always someone like that. Anyway, as I'm thinking about writing this, back in 2011, I've realized that this was probably my first finished work with what's become my established style. Tevgos really was a turning point for me. Despite being so short, I'm very proud of it. It made me realize the validity of short fiction, something that I feel is very unappreciated. 

Thanks for reading, (I really mean that.)

G. Hopper.

P.S.

Tevgos-11

“A patient is arriving, Doctor Zolner.” intoned the pleasant female voice of the medical computer. Zachary Zolner looked up from his desk.

“Thank you.” he said to his terminal, sliding his chair back. Zachary had often wondered why programmers always gave computers female voices. It didn't matter now though, a patient was on the way.

The double doors outside Zachary's office slid open. He stood, and walked to meet a stretcher as it floated through the doors. A young woman, not much older than twenty, lay on the it. Her eyes were closed. Sweat streamed from her forehead.

“Computer, what've I got here?” asked Zachary, guiding the stretcher behind a collapsible curtain.

“Patient is complaining of a high fever, Doctor Zolner.” replied the computer. A section of the wall flickered, the blue plastic yielding to information about the patient. Her temperature was over 39 standard degrees.

“Computer, prep the cooling chamber.” he ordered, scanning the rest of the display.

“I'm sorry, Doctor Zolner, but Tevgos-11 is not fitted with a cooling chamber.” the computer sounded almost apologetic.

Zachary frowned. Any reasonable hospital on anything short of a frontier planet should have a cooling chamber, and ships on the Tevgos line were supposed to be state-of-the art.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Budgetary constraints.”

Zachary sighed. “Make a note to ask for one next time we’re in port.”

“Of course, Doctor Zolner. In the meantime, do you require additional scans?”

“Yes.” said Zachary. “Check her white count, and turn up the sterilization field, just in case.”

“Yes, Doctor Zolner.”

Zachary flicked his attention back to the screen. The patient’s temperature had jumped a whole degree.

“What the?” A grasping hand on Zachary's wrist cut him off.

“Help me!” The patient’s voice grated on Zachary’s ears.. She shouldn't be awake with a fever this high, much less lucid, but her grip was strong, much stronger than it had any right to be.

“I am” Zachary patted the patient’s hand.“You're really sick. You should rest.” he said, attempting to uncurl her fingers from his wrist. She resisted.

“I can't. The bluebirds will find me.” Her tone suddenly went flat and her hand slipped away. “They kill people, you know.” Zachary frowned. Bluebirds?

“Computer, give me a shot of Delracorne.” he snapped over his shoulder. The drug would keep her calm, and quiet.

“Yes, Doc- A patient is arriving, Doctor Zolner.” Zachary froze. Another one? Two patients in one night? This hadn't happened before. Not in the three weeks Zachary had spent on Tevgos-11. The wall-vent rattled, depositing a syringe into Zachary’s hand, snapping him back to the moment.

“Computer, the second patient, what’s their complaint?”

“The patient is complaining of a high fever, Doctor Zolner.”

Zachary winced. “Computer, scan the new patient and another shot of Delracorne.” he ordered, carrying the syringe back to his patient.

“Yes, Doctor Zolner.” Another syringe fell from the vent, landing in a padded blue tray below it. The doors to the sickbay opened to admit a second stretcher.

“Computer, put the new patient on pad C.” said Zachary bent over,  lining the needle up with the patient’s arm. Her eyes widened and she scrambled away, slapping at Zachary.

“No! The bluebirds!” she shouted. “They use the poison, in needles!”

“Computer! Restrain the patient!” Two sets of belts erupted from the stretcher, locking the patient down. Zachary sighed and inserted the drug. The woman fell limp.

“A patient is arriving, Doctor Zolner.”

Zachary tossed the empty syringe into the disposal unit. A third patient? In only five minutes?

“Computer, what’s this patient complaining of?” asked Zachary, fearing the answer.

“The patient is complaining of a high fever, Doctor Zolner.” replied the computer. Zachary stood, and backed away from the first patient. Whatever she had, it was contagious and spreading fast.

“Computer-”

The computer cut him off. “A patient is arriving, Doctor Zolner.”

Four? At this rate, half the ship would be sick in an hour! Zachary shuddered.

“Wake Doctor Reilly.” Panic poisoned his voice. He could taste it. “Get him here. Now.” He wasn't equipped to deal with this by himself, whatever this was. Horror stories of diseases picked up on the outer planets filled his mind. Stories of entire ships lost.

“I am unable to comply with that request.”

“What?” Zachary barked. “Why not?”

“Doctor Reilly is already in sickbay.” A red light flashed over Pad C. The second patient. Zachary raced across the room, ignoring the arriving patient. Doctor Reilly lay, his silver hair streaked with sweat, on the stretcher. Zachary realized he hadn’t stopped shaking. With four patients already in sickbay, including the only other doctor aboard, he didn’t think he could.

The computer squealed.

“A patient is arriving, Doctor Zolner.”

“Another one?” Zachary shot a glance at the open doors. His fists clenched and unclenched.

“A patient is arriving, Doctor-” A burst of static cut off the computer. Zachary  backed against the wall, eyes locked wide.

“A patient is arr-, a patient.” The computer's voice sped up, becoming harder to understand.

What was happening on this ship?

Zachary slid to the floor as two stretchers tangled in the doorway. The computer's voice lapsed into a impenetrable buzz.. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't handle this many patients, why even try?. He closed his eyes, face cradled in his hands.

“You have to watch the blue ones. They like needles, needles in the soup. Needles in the air.” Zachary flinched, trying to drive himself through the wall.. The voice held no emotion. He opened his eyes.The first patient loomed over him. Somehow she had broken through the restraints. A aluminium bar dangled from her fingers. Zachary wondered how could she have torn it from the stretcher.

“I can't let the bluebirds get you.” she raised the bar as she stepped forward.. “Believe me, its better this way. No needles, just night. If the bluebirds get you, you become one of them. Then you gotta aim for the head. Aim for the head. The head.” Zachary squeezed his eyes shut, fighting a sob.

The room pitched to the right, sending Zachary and the woman sprawling in a snarl of medical debris.. Something blunt and heavy bounced off Zachary’s head. A rumbling noise blasted through the room, leaving a ring in Zachary’s ears.

The lights flickered. Once, twice, then stayed off. Sparks erupted from the diagnostic screens. Panels crashed to the floor.. Zachary rolled over, his head throbbing. He couldn't see the patient, but he could hear her empty chanting.“The head, you gotta aim for the head. No brain, no life. No brain!”

Zachary scrambled to his feet, searching for the door. The floor hadn’t righted itself. The door hung above him. Another rumble hit the room, bucking the floor upward. Zachary rocked on his feet but stayed upright.

“Computer!” The word tore at his throat as he screamed, staggering towards the door, blood dribbled down the side of his face. Only the woman replied.

“No brain, no life!” She shrieked, a terrible, painful, wail. Another shower of sparks blasted from a destroyed screen, illuminating her silhouette against a wall. The shadow brandished a steel bar. Zachary yelped, scrambling towards the door.

“No brain, no life!”

Zachary could hear her scrabbling after him, the bar clanging as she came.

Doctor Reilly’s voice, distorted by pain and only just recognizable, rose from the gloom of the destroyed sickbay.

“Clockwork, its all clockwork. Wind up, wind down.” Zachary ran faster, tumbling through the door, crashing over a stretcher in the threshold.

“All wound up, all wound down. Isn't that strange?” asked Doctor Reilly from somewhere behind Zachary. A horrible metallic thud reverberated in Zachary’s ears.  A terrible wet splatter followed only a second later. Zachary winced.

“No brain, no life! It's true, all true!” screamed the woman. Doctor Reilly was silent. Zachary turned away from the door.  He couldn't stay here, not if he wanted to live.

Zachary ran, away from the sickbay, trying to find a way through the wreckage. The bridge, it was only a couple doors away. The Captain would know what to do. He had to get there. The Captain would know what to do.

“True, everything is true!” the woman followed him..

Zachary shot a look over his shoulder. She stood out against a flash of sparks, the bar hanging from one hand. Zachary's feet slammed into something and fell, smacking his head against the floor. The pain was brilliant, and he cried out. Zachary rolled against a door, cradling his head.

“Somebody hurt? No, nobody hurt. Just more bluebirds. Aim for the head. It's all true.” mumbled the patient, she sounded close. He could hear her breathing.

Zachary hurled himself through the door.

He hauled in a massive breath. “Computer! Seal the door!” he screamed, his throat burning.. The computer didn't respond. Zachary scrambled for the manual switch. The door slammed shut, the woman locked on the other side. Zachary sighed with relief, sliding to the floor, panting. After a few breaths, Zachary looked up. He was exactly where he wanted to be. The bridge. He smiled. He made it.

“Tevgos-11!” A faint electronic voice came from somewhere deeper in the bridge.

“Is anyone there? Tevgos-11?” Zachary opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Are you there? Tevgos-11! Where are you?”

Zachary couldn't answer, his voice had fled. All he could see were the faces of those he’d left behind, Doctor Reilly and the others. He was a physician. He had sworn to help those in need. but he failed. He ran, only thinking about himself.. Zachary hid his face in his hands.

His forehead was warm. Feverishly warm.

Zachary dropped his hands. He had a fever too, just like the others.

He had it too.

Tears rolled down his cheeks. He crawled toward the voice.

“Are you there, Tevgos-11?”

Hello, friends and strangers. My name is Gregory Hopper, and I'm an aspiring novelist! I've started this blog as an attempt to share my writing with (at least part of) the world. I don't write to sell copies, or own stories, or anything to do with money. I write to be read. To help me in that goal, I've created this blog. I will periodically upload my projects to the web, which anyone will be free to read and share, or do anything else they'd like to. The work shared here will be my original content, not fanfiction or anything related. (I won't claim to not be influenced by better or more successful authors though!) Projects that I share on this blog will not be in the form of excerpts. I will post the entirety of content that I have have generated for any given story, at least, everything that's ready to leave the dark basement of my in-progress files. All feedback will be accepted. I like compliments and constructive criticisms. If, by some miracle, I develop a following, your feedback may shape ongoing developments in my projects, as I will be posting as I work. Novels will be posted on a chapter basis. Short stories will be posted on their conclusion. Those strange mid-length projects will be uploaded however I feel like. So, yeah, that's what this experiment is all about. Just a guy trying to get his writing out there to be read. I think I'm pretty good, and I like doing what I do. I hope you do too. Thanks for reading. (I really mean that.)