*All the King's Horses* by Pamela Strand

______<pstrand@ibm.net>______

The sound of the door to his hospital room closing with a quiet *snick* woke Col. T. C. McQueen from his uneasy rest. If his concern for who was left of the 58th Squadron-Nathan West and Cooper Hawkes-hadn't kept his mind busy, the phantom pain from his missing right leg would have.

McQueen pulled himself a little more upright in his bed and looked toward the door which though firmly shut, still seemed to echo evidence of his latest visitor. He wondered who it was.

McQueen's ice blue eyes dropped to the small table next to his bed and focused on the medication that was there in a small plastic cup: two white pills. Humph. This was odd. Nurses normally watched him take his meds, Ty mused to himself as he reached for the water pitcher. Who was trying to avoid him?

When McQueen had first arrived in very serious condition from the explosion aboard the Saratoga; his gray hair, piercing blue eyes and handsome face had attracted more than his share of female interest inspite of his despised social status as an Invitro. But Ty had quickly ridded himself of the well-intentioned pillow fluffers who hovered over him. If anyone knew how to make people want to leave his presence quickly, T.C. McQueen did. Before long only the nurses and orderlies required to attend him walked through his door.

Now, to his satisfaction, he found himself in the gray morning hour looking forward to some quiet before breakfast. McQueen splashed water from the pitcher into an empty glass and rattled the pills in the cup into his hand.

"Thunk!* Something hit the door. It swung wide to reveal Nurse Lyn Robertson maneuvering a cluttered tray. She placed it on the visitor's chair then turned, hands on hips, to face McQueen. Robertson eyed Ty suspiciously and seemed a trifle disappointed that he was not asleep.

McQueen regarded Nurse Robertson with equal disappointment.

So much for his quiet dawn hour. It wasn't that he disliked her-quite the contrary. They had fought several battles-McQueen for his autonomy and Robertson for her authority. Each had won and lost a few rounds so the score was even. This had elevated Robertson considerably in McQueen's estimation.

"So, Colonel McQueen, you're awake rather early aren't you? How did you sleep?" she asked.

"Not too well," Ty grumbled with his usual morning scowl.

"You could have buzzed for your pain medicine," Robertson reminded him matter-of- factly.

"I didn't want to disturb anyone." McQueen replied innocently.

This caused Robertson to almost smile. McQueen's frequent nightmares had disturbed *everyone* until they moved him to the farthest room near the fire exit. Robertson had seen the look of horror and despair in his eyes before he came back to wakefulness, and she felt a sympathy for him which she'd never let him sense.

"Well, I'm here now..." she said, bending to sort through the items on the tray. Turning around, she held out a cup and two pills. "This should cheer you up for a bit." Then seeing the expression on his face, she paused. "Now, what's the matter?"

McQueen was fixing his eyes on Robertson with one of his unnerving, icy looks. "Didn't you already bring me my meds?" he asked softly.

"No, of course not," she frowned.

McQueen opened his hand to show her the white pills.

"Where did you get those?" Robertson had learned to ignore the intense blue eyes which could freeze you on the spot. She leaned over for a closer look.

McQueen breathed a faint scent of jasmine from her warm skin and auburn hair. "They were here when I woke up," he muttered distractedly.

"Well, *I* didn't bring them. You probably buzzed during the night and forgot."

"I wouldn't have forgotten," McQueen scowled.

"Let me have them." Robertson held out her hand. "I'll check the records. Whoever brought them had to sign for it."

It would have been nice to have a few extra pain pills around-just in case, Ty considered. Then he remembered that was how he first thought about the Green Meanies to which he had become addicted during a hospital stay, and this scared him. He wondered if Nurse Robertson knew about his previous addictions. Probably. Reluctantly, McQueen dropped the pills into her palm. This was a skirmish he was going to lose.

Score another point for the nurse.

Robertson studied the pills carefully. McQueen watched her and grew uneasy at the prolonged silence and the frown lines that appeared between her dark brows. Finally she spoke: "I don't recognize these. You say you found them on your table?"

"Yes." I heard my door close. I thought you had decided to make things easier on both of us by avoiding me." McQueen said dryly.

Robertson fixed Ty with a look of her own. "Hmmh. And miss the thrill of waking you from your beauty sleep? No way. I'll have to report this and find out who left them. This was very careless on some- one's part."

McQueen's eyes focused on a distant spot as thoughts slid from one place to another. Echoing in the back of his mind was the *snick* of a door closing.

"Could you..." McQueen hesitated. What did he know aboutthis woman anyway? She was an efficient nurse. She didn't take any guff from him and had an "all business" approach that he appreciated.

He had to trust *someone*-and quickly. But why should she do him anyfavors? If he tried to sweet-talk her, she'd either laugh or think he was sick. If he told her everything, she would think he had gone paranoid.

He decided to keep it plain and simple.

"Could you find out...about the contents of those pills-without drawing too much attention, and report back to me without notifying anyone about this?" he asked quietly.

Robertson considered McQueen's odd request and was amused by the manner in which he had framed it-as if she were some-one under his command. But he had asked in a way that wasn't part of their usual power struggle; which surprised her. His expressive eyes and low voice were serious and sincere. It was probably nothing. But it was an error-an error for which the hospital was responsible - and McQueen had the right to know what the mistake was and who had made it. It might be best to keep this situation low profile if McQueen wanted it that way. She made her decision.

"Report back? Aye, aye, sir," she deadpanned as she dropped the pills in her skirt pocket.

Then McQueen smiled one of his rare, sweet smiles and Robertson returned it with genuine warmth.

"Wrong branch," McQueen remarked. "I'm Marine."

"I know." Lyn winked as she hoisted the tray. "I'll get back to you ASAP." The door closed, and she was gone.

McQueen settled back onto his pillows to consider this new situation. Maybe the pills were an innocent mistake, but his gut instinct did not think so. Maybe it was wrong to ask Robertson to help him. Suddenly he felt very isolated in his private room at the far end of the hall. If someone wanted him dead the way someone seemed to want West and Hawkes dead, there had to be a reason. He had been the commander of the 58th. Why didn't it occur to him that danger might exist in places other than the war zone?

This *is* a bit of a mystery, Lyn thought as she mulled over the surprising exchange she had had with McQueen, and I love mysteries.

*Someone* is getting careless. She swung around the corner that led tothe main hub of the third floor and into the first light of morning.

It was lunch time. The hospital halls were noisy with the sound of squeaky cafeteria carts and the overly cheerful greetings of visitors.

Lyn Robertson had changed her lab coat for a dark green skirt and sweater. Her auburn hair was loose around her face instead of pulled back into a ponytail. It seemed a little odd to Lyn to be on the floor out of uniform and odder still to be visiting one of her own patients. Her low-heeled street shoes clipped sharply on the tan and white tile floor asshe made her way to Colonel McQueen's room.

McQueen was engrossed in studying the few reports about thewar to which he had access. The light from his small laptop computer reflecting on his face made him even paler than ususal. He glanced up atthe sound of the door squeaking open. For a second, he did not recognize Nurse Robertson as she slipped into the room- then she smiled.

"Hello," Lyn said, "reporting as ordered...sir." She opted for perching on the edge of the room's only chair rather than the edge of his bed.

"I almost didn't know you in your civies." McQueen teased.

Lyn smiled briefly. How was she going to say this?

"You found out what was in those pills." It was a statement from McQueen, not a question.

"Yes." She took a deep breath and looked down. She knew that *he* knew it wasn't good news. "The pills contained a sleep-inducing compound," she stated as neutrally as possible. "It's an older sleeping pill...not what we routinely keep available. It works well on 'natural borns' in small doses but ..." here her voice trailed off.

"But?" McQueen nudged.

"...similar doses have a detrimental effect on the nervous systems of Invitros when mixed with the type of painkillers you are now taking. Had you taken those pills and the ones you usually get, your respiratory system would have been repressed to the point that you would no longer be breathing." She paused for the explosion she expected.

"I knew the nurses up here didn't like me, but I didn't think they'dgo this far," McQueen said lightly.

For a moment Lyn was shocked-then she exploded. "This is nothing to joke about! If I hadn't come by your room a little early, you could have died today! I asked all the personal who were on duty last night if any of them were called to your room or if they dropped in to check on you. They all said you had a quiet night. I didn't notice anything unusual during my shift...I suppose someone could have lied to me, but I've known all these people for years." Lyn took a deep breathand waited for McQueen's response.

"How did you find out what was in the pills?" McQueen continued mildly.

"I have a friend in pharmacy who identified them. Then I double-checked the side effects in the hospital media center-using someone else's access code. That's how I found out about the Invitro reaction."

McQueen's eyebrows rose. He had not anticipated this degree of caution from her.

"Don't look so surprised. You told me to watch my six." Lyn's mouth twitched. "You *knew* it wasn't an accident this morning, when you asked me to look into it, didn't you?"

"I didn't know, but I suspected." he replied.

"Why would someone want to do this?"

"I have some ideas. Since this attempt did not work, they may try again."

"You aren't safe here!"

"True, but I don't know where I would be safer." McQueen glanced around at the assortment of tubes, wires and equipment surrounding his bed.

"I want to help you " she said firmly.

"You already have. I appreciate what you did, but I wouldn't feelright about involving you any further." McQueen's voice was final.

"You're *my* patient and *my* responsiblity. I'm not going to stand by and watch a...a ...."

"Helpless?" McQueen suggested.

"YOU, helpless?! " Lyn was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at McQueen. "I was going to say 'a murder' take place on my floor. I can help. You need me, and you know it," Lyn concluded folding her armsand regarding McQueen a look that said she was now an unmovable object.

McQueen pulled a brown case from the bedside table drawer and opened it. "Do you play chess?" he inquired.

* * * * * *

"Whaa...what?! You want to play *chess?* "Lyn watched in puzzlement as McQueen calmly set up the board.

"Why else would you spend your free time with a cranky patient unless we had a common interest?" asked McQueen smoothly as he set up the pieces. "This way," he continued, "you can drop in for a friendlygame and not have to explain why you are here to anyone. They can see for themselves."

"I gather you are accepting my offer to be of assistance. Are you going to tell me what this is all about, or keep me guessing?" Lyn asked.

McQueen glanced at her briefly as he put the pawns into place.

"I don't want you to know any more than you need to for your own safety. But I will tell you this much.............."

A slow game later Lyn knew about the accidents aboard the Saratoga, and something of the role Aerotech had played in getting McQueen where he now was.

"And so here I am...Humpty Dumpty waiting to be put together again." the Colonel concluded. With a grim smile he moved a black knightinto position. "Checkmate."

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END OF PART NINE

Pamela Strand

pstrand@ibm.net