This was a group e-mail role play in which members of the Igen Weyr fanzine participated, and this one is about a virus running through the Weyr. It is uncurable, can be fatal, and runs its course in three days; symptoms are fever, stomach cramps, and shivering. Later, people reminisce/reflect on the virus' effect on the Weyr. So, here are MY contributions to the e-mail role play:

segment 1, written 19 August 1997

J'torian bit his lip to keep from moaning from the stomach cramps as he lay in the soft bed; Veggie and Threadhead were perched at the foot of his bed, their deep green hides tinged a sickly gray with worry. Ralenaya kept a vigilant watch over him, and over others in the infirmary. Her brown flitters, Slip and Shod, paced worriedly atop a high shelf, a shelf from which Ralenaya selected a bottle and a spoon.

Ralenaya went over to J'torian and gave him a spoonful of some yellowish liquid. As the young man feverishly swallowed, the Healergirl spoke: "J'torian, I'm not gonna pressure you, but I'm sure G'mead knows that you're sick. He just got back from visiting Balen and he's probably already asked everyone why you're not in your weyr. It's only a matter of time before someone gets the nerve to tell him or he gets Birtath to bespeak Storalinth." Ralenaya dipped a cloth into cold water, squeezed out the excess moisture, and gently placed the fabric over J'torian's forehead.

J'torian, grimacing in pain, nodded at the Healergirl. Storalinth, get Gannie. He needs to know that I got the virus.

Storalinth spoke sheepishly: I already told Birtath and He's on His way.

What???

Sure enough, G'mead's voice could be heard as he raced into the infirmary. "J'torian! J'torian?"

J'torian somehow managed to get enough strength to sit up (the cloth fell off his forehead) and waved G'mead away from him. "Get back, Gannie! The last thing you're gonna do is catch another illness from me."

"J'torian!" G'mead stood stone still in the entryway to the infirmary, debating whether or not to disobey his lover's command for him to stay away. Goldrider flew around his head in distress.

"Gannie, leave!" The bronzerider collapsed backwards onto the bed in exhaustion, and clutched at his stomach: the small exertion had been too much for him.

Ralenaya went to J'torian to reapply the cold cloth, and she walked up to G'mead; G'mead noticed Ralenaya's watery eyes, and Ralenaya in turn saw that G'mead was close to crying himself.

Ralenaya's voice was low from worry and fear. "G'mead, respect his wish. Please?"

G'mead didn't even notice when Goldrider landed on his shoulder, and he petulantly asked, "Then what are you doing here? You could get sick too."

Ralenaya stared at G'mead: "I'm a Healer, remember? There's a hazard that comes with every profession. And don't tell ANYONE... but I think I might have the virus."

"What?"

"Tell NO ONE, G'mead."

Ralenaya waited till G'mead nodded, and she resolutely strode back to J'torian, who was now unable to keep from whimpering at the pain in his abdomen. She prepared some more cold cloths and placed one on each of J'torian's hands and each foot. G'mead dumbly watched from the entryway, remembering that only a sevenday before he had been discussing Healering with J'torian, and J'torian had had this wild theory about how fevers could be alleviated by placing cold cloths on all the extremities: hands, feet, and the forehead.

Apparently Ralenaya was willing to try anything at this point.

G'mead watched, unable to keep a tear from escaping as he heard J'torian whimper once more, as Goldrider crooned in his ear in consolation.

segment 2, written 21 August 1997

J'torian woke up but kept his eyes closed; he braced himself for a stomach cramp.

However, no cramps manifested. J'torian also noted that although his head felt sore, there was no fever. He felt completely worn out, but he sensed that the sickness had broken. He opened his eyes, and gasped when total blackness met his eyes.

"Am I blind, or am I dead?"

To his left, he heard a voice say, "Thankfully neither, love. It's just the middle of the night."

And in his head, he felt Veggie and Threadhead's touch, and then Storalinth spoke. You're with me. That's all that matters.

J'torian's eyes misted in relief as G'mead opened a glow basket next to the bed. He saw that he was lying in in his own weyr, and that G'mead had been sleeping next to him. Smiling quietly as G'mead placed an arm around him, he sighed contently as he snuggled into the other man's body, smelling his lover's clean scent. He got turned on by being so close to G'mead, but was still too weak from his sickness to act on it.

"What happened?"

G'mead spoke quietly: "Your sickness broke late this morning, and Ralenaya had Storalinth and Birtath and I transfer you back to your weyr so you could get quieter rest than what you'd get in the infirmary. ...Ralenaya said that you were helping her out in the infirmary when you collapsed. You're such a flitter: why didn't you tell anyone? Running around helping Ralenaya only made you worse. You hid your fever so well that not even Ralenaya could tell that you were sick."

J'torian grinned sheepishly. "Well, Rallie was short on help, so I did what I could; you know how well she's been training me in Healering. And the fact I knew I was already sick made me more willing to help out I guess, since I already had it and I couldn't catch it from any of the patients I was helping. I... I didn't tell you because you were at Balen and I didn't want to worry you. I guess I should have at least told Rallie, but if she knew, she would have tied me down into one of those beds in the infirmary instead of letting me help."

G'mead hmphed to himself, and spoke gruffly. "Well, you ended up in the infirmary anyway, and you had me worried to death! ...You almost didn't make it, you know. You went unconscious for a while..." G'mead's voice got hoarse and he started shaking.

J'torian absorbed this news and tightened his arms around G'mead's body, in order to comfort and be comforted. G'mead's shaking eventually subsided under the embrace of J'torian's arms and the hazel-haired man gratefully squeezed his lover, who had just shed a few tears of his own at the site of G'mead so upset. G'mead leaned in closer to J'torian, about to do some "comforting" of his own, when the dark-haired man yawned like a baby and then spoke: "How's Rallie doing?"

G'mead, having just realized how worn out J'torian must be, hid his disappointment and said: "She's fine, but she caught a cold; in fact, for a short time, she thought she had gotten the virus, but it just turned out to be a regular cold. It was probably due to all the stress, and the fact that Ralenaya didn't have a decent meal for three days. She's sleeping now, so she should be okay soon."

"Gannie?"

"What, love?"

"Did my theory work?"

"What theory?" G'mead was gritting his teeth: J'torian was absentmindedly rubbing his chest and it was turning him on.

J'torian was actually rubbing G'mead's chest on purpose, and he grinned inwardly as he noticed the effect it was having. "Well, I remember that Rallie put cold towels over my hands and feet; did it help me at all?"

G'mead grabbed J'torian's hand to stop its caressing motion. "It seemed like it did somewhat, but then after a while you went unconscious, so it was hard to tell if it had any effect at all."

G'mead, still holding J'torian's hand to prevent any rubbing, leaned in and placed a light kiss on J'torian's lips. "In any case it doesn't matter to me, cause you're still here and that's what counts to me."

J'torian grinned at G'mead and kissed him on the cheek, and the two settled into each other's arms for a restful sleep.

segment 3, written 25 August 1997

J'torian and G'mead, wearing only light shorts, bathed their dragons with vigor, reveling in the bright sun beating down on their bare bodies, the cool water glistening on their dewy selves and on their dragons. Their fire lizards cavorted in a different part of the water.

J'torian, out in a deeper part of the lake, was almost completely well now, and the characteristic flush of ruddy health was returned to again suffuse his milk-white complexion. His damp, dark brown hair fell into his dark eyes as he leaned down from his perch on Storalinth's back to scrub a spot near the wing. He grinned as the bronze sighed mentally as well as physically, and he leaned back to get a view of his lover.

G'mead was standing close to the edge of the water, scrubbing Birtath's underside. The blue flapped his wings with pleasure, accidentally dousing G'mead with a double onslaught of water. The man's normally hazel hair was now brown with all the water, and he shivered.

"Shells, Birtath!"

The blue craned his head down to see what had happened, and blinked his emerald eyes. Sorry, but that tickled.

"Still Birtie, you could have warned me!"

J'torian laughed, and expertly slid down Storalinth's side to land in the water with a small splash. He came up and leisurely swam to the shallower area where G'mead had resumed scrubbing Birtath in a more cautious manner.

A few meters before he reached G'mead, J'torian ducked his head under the water. Several seconds later, G'mead yelped as he fell into the water with a splash; he came up sputtering while J'torian came up laughing.

G'mead decided to tease J'torian: he hmphed huffily and walked to the edge of the water to sit down. J'torian grinned cautiously and followed, sitting down next to his lover. The two were dangling their legs in the water.

J'torian ran a hand through his dripping wet hair to make it fall backwards instead of forward onto his eyes. "You weren't annoyed by that, were you?"

G'mead, deciding not to tease J'torian, relentingly grinned and copied J'torian's motion to push back his own drenched forelocks. "Nah. But you should be taking it real easy, and you shouldn't be pulling jankers like that until you're completely better."

J'torian made a sheepish face. "Yes MOTHER. You sound worse than Rallie."

G'mead smiled weakly and reached out to embrace J'torian. "Well, so many people were lost."

J'torian burrowed into G'mead's embrace and hugged him tightly, and the two revelled in the feel of each other's equally bare, wet skin interfaced together. After a few moments, J'torian said, "Yeah... look at all these people... they're so... so frantic."

G'mead and J'torian, still embracing, surveyed the area around the lake, quietly watching as others bathed their dragons, trying to lose themselves in the wetness of the water. As people laughed a little too loudly, a little too hysterically, as their three fire lizards stopped playing and flew to Storalinth and Birtath to help them with their bath.

After a time, G'mead, with his arms still around J'torian, gave his lover a quick kiss on the lips and asked, "How's Rallie?"

"She's almost completely over her cold, and she's already running around helping people who are recuperating from the virus. I keep telling her to take it easy, cause although a cold isn't as bad as a virus she should still rest, but you know Rallie: she doesn't listen."