quote:Dustin staggered into the colony's biolab, eyes bloodshot. He slammed the door switch hard and watched until it slid shut. "You gotta give me something for this," he moaned, clutching his belly.
"Nauseated?" Elizabeth asked as she settled him onto the exam table.
His glare gave the answer.
"Did you eat something --"
"Not since last night. Can't stand the thought of it."
"And before that?"
"Obviously I ate. But nothing I haven't had before."
"No mushrooms or berries?"
"No."
"Alcohol?"
"Just a glass of Mirek's Ale. Two days ago."
"What about meat?"
His face contorted. She barely got him the trash bin before he heaved. Bile. He wiped his mouth and glared again.
"I can give you some anti-nausea medication, but --"
"Will that make him go away?" Dustin asked, his voice low, earnest.
"Him?"
Dustin lifted a shaking finger to point behind Elizabeth.
She looked over her shoulder at the empty lab. When she turned back to Dustin, his eyes were fixed on a spot at the base of one of her tables.
"Who are you talking about?" she asked gently.
"You can't see him, can you?"
"Who?"
"The wolf. He's crouching right there, growling." He fumbled for something in his belt. Steel glinted in the harsh white lights.
"Dustin, put the knife down."
He shook his head, eyes big with fear, a faint tremor in his words. "I know he's not real. Some sort of hallucination. But I can smell him. Like a wet dog, you know. So give me something -- some drug -- to make him go away."
"I will," Elizabeth promised, as she slowly moved to touch his arm, then his hand, then the fingers wrapped around the knife. "First, you need to let go."
He loosed his grip and she pulled the weapon away.
"Am I going mad?" he asked.
"You've probably got a fever. Put this under your tongue." She slid the thermometer into his mouth and waited.
"He's white," Dustin mumbled around the thermometer.
"Hold still."
"Red eyes. Teeth that hardly fit in his mouth. He's always the same."
The thermometer beeped. 38.2. A slight fever, inconsistent with sustained polymodal hallucinations.
"Have you interacted with it?"
"You mean, have I tried to pet him? Not likely."
"And it hasn't attacked you?"
"Not yet. But he bares his teeth a lot. And snaps. I can see every hair on him. He looks as real as you. When we ate those mushrooms last month I saw some pretty wild things, but nothing like this." His eyes moved slowly to one end of the lab, then back. Back. Forth.
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