Simon grabbed the towel and wiped his mouth, then sat back. He was pretty sure he was dehydrated, but right now he couldn’t keep anything down. Even water seemed to come right back up.

Reaching over he pressed the button to flush then leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed. It was almost funny if it wasn’t so pathetic, but he’d been seeing this particular view just a little too often. Not since the sake days at Medacad had he spent so long with his head down a toilet.

“It doesn’t seem to be improving,” Mal said from the doorway, leaning on the jamb, his arms crossed.

“There’s no easy way around this,” the doctor replied, not opening his eyes. “I just have to get through it.”

“I’m thinking that when we hit Greenleaf you’d best stay on board.”

“I wasn’t considering getting off.”

“Good.” Mal paused for a moment. “That DNA tester-doodad, the one you used on Simon Cobb. Is it easy to operate?”

Simon sighed and went to get up. “I’ll -”

“No, you stay there. Don’t really want to be having to put on another clean shirt today.” The young man glared at him, and Mal suppressed a smile. “Just tell me where it is.”

“It’s in the cupboard with the painkillers.” He shook his head. “But you need to know what you’re looking at.”

Mal considered. “Okay. Be ready if we need to.”

“Okay.” Simon lay his head back again against the cool bulkhead.

The captain turned to go then glanced back. “Can’t you take something? Stop you stinking my ship up?”

Simon opened his eyes to glare at the captain, then realised his words didn’t tally with the concerned look on his face. “I have been,” he admitted. “Only the anti-emetics I’ve got on hand seem to be short-lived in their efficacy.”

“So they’ve stopped working.”

“Seems so.”

“Are there others we can get somewhere? Might be a bit more effective?”

Simon thought for a moment. “There’s a couple I could try. But they’re not cheap.”

“You let me worry about that. When you can, write ’em down for me. I’ll see what