J’Roh skittered to my tent about ten minutes ago and said, “It works.”

“What works?” I asked him.

“The load-lifter. I fixed everything the diagnostic-program said was wrong with it. And it works.”

“That’s kind of how it goes, J’Roh—that’s what diagnostic programs are for.”

“Maybe for you, but that’s never happened here.”

“Did you fix the other units?”

J’Roh chirped. “No. I only just finished repairing the one you told me to fix.”

“It took all day?”

“There were a great many things wrong with it—and, to be honest, I’d never fixed one before. Usually we would just smack it on the side.”

I put my head in my hands. “What about the rest of them?”

“I fixed all the diagnostic routines on them—that was pretty easy, actually—and I assigned a detail to fix them first thing in the morning.”

Probably the same detail I wanted to fix the antigravs in the first place. The point is, they all should be functioning within the next twenty-eight hours.

I needed that boost after the day I had had, though. I went with Razka to check up on the detail I had reassigned from tubing construction to digging—turns out nine of them called in sick.

I went to Kejahna to ask him about this. He stands almost two meters tall, and has arms roughly the size of warp nacelles. He has more scars on his face and arms than any of the other Nalori in the workforce. Part of me is curious as to what led to that, but most of me thinks I’m better off not knowing.

In any case, when I asked him about all the sick people, he said, “Oh yes, they’ve all come down with Dakota’s disease. It’s been going around. They’ll be out for at least a day or two.”

Dakota’s disease is a minor respiratory problem—not even a disease, really, more of a viral infection, but the doctor who discovered it was named Dakota, and the name stuck. It shouldn’t even be enough to keep people off work. It is very easy, however, to fake the symptoms, especially with the substandard medical equipment in Dolahn’s hospital.

In other words, the perfect thing for a “ sick-out.” The erstwhile tubing detail didn’t want to dig, so they decided to pretend to be sick to get out of working at something they didn’t like. It’s a particularly immature form of protest, and it wasn’t something I was going to stand for.

“Dakota’s disease?” I said with as much shock as I could muster. “I’ll need their names right away.” I started inputting commands into my padd. “They’ll each need to be isolated in separate tents for fifty-six hours.”

“Excuse me?”

“Standard quarantine procedure,” I said offhandedly. “We’ll have to set aside nine tents for them each to stay in. Someone will have to be assigned to take them meals. Oh, and, of course, the tent assignments will have to be rearranged, but it should only discommode a few dozen people, and I’m sure they won’t mind for the good of the project. I mean, we wouldn’t want them all to come down with this, would we? Besides, those tents can easily accommodate seven or eight people each instead of the four they have now.”

In fact, the tents can barely fit four, and Kejahna knew it.

“Oh,” I added, “and they won’t be able to take their personal items with them when they switch tents. Too much risk of spreading the infection.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kejahna said. “This happens all the time.”

“So did inefficient work, bad design, and poor scheduling. That’s all changing, and so’s this. Now I want each of those nine to report to the hospital, and once Dr. Dolahn has verified that they have Dakota’s, I want them each isolated in separate tents for fifty-six hours, as per Starfleet Quarantine Regulation #471946A, Paragraph 9, Subsection C. If they don’t have Dakota’s, I want them back at work immediately. Are we clear, Kejahna?”

An interesting thing I’ve observed about a race with no discernible pupils is that they’re not nearly as good at menacing stares as races with them. Nevertheless, Kejahna’s expression was not a particularly pleasant one.

He finally said, “Very clear, Commander. I will let you know what the doctor tells me about their medical status.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Kejahna walked off. Razka looked at me with a smile on his face. “You remembered that regulation number from memory. I’m impressed.”

I smiled. “Don’t be. I made it up.”

Completely deadpan, Razka said, “I’m shocked that you would do such a thing, Commander. Simply shocked.”

I laughed at that, and then went on with the inspection.

Not surprisingly, by the end of the day all of the digging detail had reported to work. Of course, they were even more behind, but one takes what one can get.