It had been several hours since anyone had checked on Brian, and
Anakata, not sure if she liked Bob or not, but starting to feel that
she didn't, decided to drop by the unconscious refugee. Her
unconscious mind must be on a weirdness spree, she thought, and hoped
that it would resume normal behavior soon.
Brian had suffered tremendously, it appeared. He had been given
absurdly uncomfortable clothes which had chafed his skin, rubbing
him raw. Someone had been rubbing cayenne pepper into his skin,
leaving him with a nasty rash all over his body, and he had not eaten
for at least a week. There had been no food on the lifeboat.
After a brief exchange with Neil, she entered sickbay, where
Brian lay sleeping, IV dripping slowly into his left arm. He was
covered by a silk sheet and a Yoda Jedi Master blanket. Anakata and
Nick had carefully applied an antibiotic, anesthetic, regenerative
ointment to his skin, which, she knew, would clear up his terrible,
blistering rash in only a day or two, especially once they got him
proper clothing.
Brian shifted under the covers and moaned gruffly. His eyes
fluttered uncertainly, then closed again.
No pain, he thought, no pain. I feel good.
The sheets slid sensually around his body, and they felt...
GOOD!?
Brian sat bolt upright in the bed and stared about him in horror.
He leapt to his feet, inadvertently ripping the IV from his arm, and
threw the sheet to the floor in disgust.
"What manner of vile hedonistic..." he began, then noticed
Anakata, who looked at him with a mixture of mild amusement and
milder concern. Then he looked at his erection and reddened. He
snatched the sheet off the floor and wrapped it around his waist,
grimacing with unwanted pleasure.
"You!" he shouted at Anakata. "Temptress! What have you done
to my clothes? Have you no shame? Can your type not even keep your
filthy sexual practices off the body of a Holy Man?"
"Try the closet," Anakata suggested, and Neil let her out without
a fight.