“Am I glad to see you, Doctor,” Childer said fervently.
The woman opened her eyes. “Doctor…” She made an effort to speak, her lips trembling.
“Just relax,” said Baird, his eyes on his watch. He released her wrist, felt in his jacket and took out a pocket flashlight. “Open your eyes wide,” he ordered gently and examined each eye in turn in the bright pencil of light. “Now. Any pain?” The woman nodded. “Where? Here? Or here?” As he palpated her abdomen, she stiffened suddenly, choking back a cry of pain. He replaced the blanket, felt her forehead, then stood up. “Is this lady your wife?” he asked Childer.
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Has she complained of anything in addition to the pain?”
“She’s been very sick, throwing up everything.”
“When did it start?”
“Not long, I guess.” Childer looked helplessly at Janet. “It’s all come on suddenly.”
Baird nodded reflectively. He moved away, taking Janet by the arm and speaking very quietly so as not to be overheard by the nearby passengers who were staring up at them.
“Have you given her anything?” he inquired.
“Only aspirin and water,” replied Janet. “That reminds me. I promised a glass of water to the man who’s sick—”
“Wait,” said Baird crisply. His sleepiness had vanished now. He was alert and authoritative. “Where did you learn your nursing?”
Janet colored at his tone. “Why, at the airline training school, but—”
“Never mind. But it’s not much use giving aspirin to anyone who is actually vomiting — you’ll make ’em worse. Strictly water only.”
“I — I’m sorry, Doctor,” Janet stammered.
“I think you’d better go to the captain,” said Baird. “Please tell him we should land at once. This woman has to be gotten to a hospital. Ask to have an ambulance waiting.”
“Do you know what’s wrong?”
“I can’t make a proper diagnosis here. But it’s serious enough to land at the nearest city with hospital facilities. You can tell the captain that.”
“Very well, Doctor. While I’m gone, will you take a look at the other sick passenger? He’s complaining of the same sickness and pains.”
Baird looked at her sharply. “The same pains, you say? Where is he?”
Janet led him forward to where the sick man sat, bent over, retching, supported by his friend in the next seat. Baird crouched down to look at his face.
“I’m a doctor. Will you put your head back, please?” As he made a quick examination, he asked, “What have you had to eat in the last twenty-four hours?”
“Just the usual things,” muttered the man, all the strength appearing to have been drained from him. “Breakfast,” he said weakly, “bacon and eggs… salad for lunch… a sandwich at the airport… then dinner here.” A trickle of saliva ran disregarded down his chin. “It’s this pain, Doctor. And my eyes.”
“What about your eyes?” asked Baird quickly.
“Can’t seem to focus. I keep seeing double.”
His companion seemed to find it amusing. “That rye has got a real kick, yes sir,” he exclaimed.
“Be quiet,” said Baird. He rose, to find Janet and the captain standing beside him. “Keep him warm — get more blankets round him,” he told Janet. The captain motioned him to follow down to the galley. Immediately they were alone, Baird demanded, “How quickly can we land, Captain?”
“That’s the trouble,” said Dun briefly. “We can’t.”
Baird stared at him. “Why?”
“It’s the weather. I’ve just checked by radio. There’s low cloud and fog right over the prairies this side of the mountains. Calgary’s shut in completely. We’ll have to go through to the coast.”
Baird thought for a moment. “What about turning back?” he asked.
Dun shook his head, his face taut in the soft glow of the lights. “That’s out, too. Winnipeg closed down with fog shortly after we left. Anyway, it’ll be quicker now to go on.”
Baird grimaced, tapping his finger nail with the tiny flashlight. “How soon do you expect to land?”
“About five a.m., Pacific Time.” Dun saw the doctor glance involuntarily at his wrist watch, and added, “We’re due to land in three and a half hours from now. These charter aircraft aren’t the fastest in the world.”
Baird made up his mind. “Then I’ll have to do what I can for these people until we arrive at Vancouver. I’ll need my bag. Do you think it can be reached? I checked it at Toronto.”
“We can try,” said the captain. “I hope it’s near the top. Let me have your tags, Doctor.”
Baird’s long fingers probed into his hip pocket and came out with his wallet. From this he took two baggage tickets and handed them to Dun.
“There are two bags, Captain,” he said. “It’s the smaller one I want. There isn’t much equipment in it — just a few things I always carry around. But they’ll help.”
He had barely finished speaking before the aircraft gave a violent lurch. It sent the two men sprawling to the far wall. There was a loud, persistent buzzing. The captain was on his feet first and sprang to the intercom telephone.
“Captain here,” he rapped out. “What’s wrong, Pete?”
The voice of the first officer was struggling and painful. “I’m… sick… come quickly.”
“You’d better come with me,” said Dun to the doctor and they left the galley rapidly. “Sorry about the bump,” Dun remarked affably to the upturned faces as they walked along the aisle. “Just a little turbulence.”
As they burst into the flight deck, it was only too apparent that the first officer was very sick; his face a mask of perspiration, he was slumped in his seat, clutching the control column with what was obviously all his strength.
“Get him out of there,” directed the captain urgently. Baird and Janet, who had followed the men in, seized the copilot and lifted him out and away from the controls, while Dun slipped into his own seat and took the column in his hands.
“There’s a seat at the back of the flight deck, for when we carry a radio operator,” he told them. “Put him there.”
With an agonizing retch, Pete spewed on to the deck as they helped him to the vacant seat and propped him against the wall. Baird loosened the first officer’s collar and tie and tried to make him as comfortable as the conditions would allow. Every few seconds Pete would jackknife in another croaking, straining retch.
“Doctor,” called the captain, his voice tense, “what is it? What’s happening?”
“I’m not sure,” said Baird grimly. “But there’s a common denominator to these attacks. There has to be. The most likely thing is food. What was it we had for dinner?”
“The main course was a choice of meat or fish,” said Janet. “You probably remember, Doctor — you had —”
“Meat!” cut in Baird. “About — what? — two, three hours ago. What did he have?” He indicated the first officer.
Janet’s face began to register alarm. “Fish,” she almost whispered.
“Do you remember what the other two passengers had?”
“No — I don’t think so—”
“Go back quickly and find out, will you, please?”
The stewardess hurried out, her face pale. Baird knelt beside the first officer who sat swaying with the motion of the aircraft, his eyes closed. “Try to relax,” he said quietly. “I’ll give you something in a few minutes that’ll help the pain. Here.” He reached up and pulled down a blanket from a rack. “You’ll feel better if you stay warm.”
Pete opened his eyes a little and ran his tongue over dry lips. “Are you a doctor?” he asked. Baird nodded. Pete said with a sheepish attempt to smile, “I’m sorry about all this mess. I thought I was going to pass out.”
“Don’t talk,” said Baird. “Try to rest.”
“Tell the captain he’s sure right about my ham-handed—”
“I said don’t talk. Rest and you’ll feel better.”
