"Yes, you told me—the diagnostic ones being the increased sexual capacity and the penile moistening during arousal. The tests are conclusive, though; in your case those are genetic, not disease-caused."
Odeon frowned. "Then how come none of it showed up till the day after I had intercourse the first time? Because that's when the urge got strong and I started getting wet."
Drulet shrugged. "That question I can't answer; I don't know enough about the disease. Could be pure coincidence, or maybe the virus' presence in your body pulled the genetic trigger, so to speak. Possibly any physical stress or trauma could've set it off, once puberty hit. But that's all guesswork."
"I understand." That part, anyway, Odeon thought. Why he'd have a genetic condition that mimicked the satyr plague was a whole 'nother question, and one he knew the doctor wouldn't be able to answer, so he dropped the subject. "Would you mind sending my commanding officer a copy of your report, so it can go in my medical records? I'm due my annual physical next month, but with this one so recent and so much more thorough, that can be waivered."
"Be glad to. If you don't mind, I'll forward a copy to Ranger Medart as well. His eyes only, of course."
Odeon didn't particularly like that idea, for no reason he could pinpoint—he'd taken the examination so Imperials could learn about Kingdoms people, after all—but he nodded. "I suppose so."
"In that case," DeLayne's voice broke in, behind Odeon, "you wouldn't mind if I also send him anything I learn from you."
"No—but he did say he wanted to get his data in person."
"What's the difference if I send him the ship's record tapes of our conversations, or he talks to you himself?"
Odeon frowned. "The ship tapes everything? You don't have any privacy?"