Stamme: Shikari Book Three

by Alma T. C. Boykin

  “That will do. You’ll be sharing a room with Mrs. Almira, one of our cleaning staff. She’s a widow, children are grown. This way.” Rigi followed her after telling Martinus to stay and stand-down. “Meals here, necessary and cleaning over here, and we gown here. Just over-gowns at the moment. The disease is not contagious to humans older than five years, as best we can tell. Hair covers there, in the top cubby, you wrap and tuck, yes like that.” Rigi remembered the trick from her first classroom training. She gowned and followed the nurse into a large ward.

  The smell, no, the lack of smell, overwhelmed her. Rigi should have smelled that many Staré, and instead her nose detected only the scent of cleaning chemicals and ozone from the scrub-‘bots. She heard quiet moaning, and the whirr of something. “We run a sweeper all day, pulling up the shed fur so it doesn’t clog things or get into the ventilation system. This is a temporary system.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Here. We have to tag patients as soon as they come in, so we can confirm Stamm once the fur drops.” She paused. “What is your name, Miss?”

  “Bernardi, ma’am, Auriga Bernardi.”

  “Good, we don’t have a B yet.” She listened for a moment, then pushed aside a curtain. “First Stamm here.”

  Rigi was glad she didn’t recognize any of the patients. Two of the males lay very still indeed, and she squinted a little before she saw their chests moving. “Photophobia is a secondary symptom, so we keep it dim. The farther down the row, the longer they’ve been ill,” Mrs. Australi said under her breath. “These are the ones I need you to speak with.”

  “Do you have something I can take notes on, ma’am? Besides the chart tablet?”

  “Hmm, I’ll find something.” She left, and Rigi looked at the female and two males. The female seemed old, her pouch distended under the modesty drape, her claws jagged with brittle breaks. The nurse returned with a large pad and several writing tools. “Here. I need you to monitor their condition and keep them calm, so they do not pull out their hydration lines.”

  Rigi peered closely and saw the lines running from each left foreleg up to a large tank. “Fluid flow adjustments are made at the top of the line. It is easier to run from a single tank; we’re using so much of the Staré rehydration mix. Technicians refill the tank there," the nurse pointed to something in the shadows at the end of the row. "Do not try to disconnect and change the lines. One of the techs or I will do that if we relocate a patient." Rigi didn't think she could reach that high safely, and nodded her understanding. The nurse continued, "There is a sani-glove sprayer beside the door, and be sure to reapply it between patients. Push the button there if something happens. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  The female moaned and Rigi went to her side, crouching down so she could speak quietly. “How may this one assist, honored Elder?”

  “Repeat, Nasslara,” and she began reciting in rhythm. The female was hallucinating, seeing Rigi as someone else. Rigi wrote as quickly as she could. The female recited more of the Origin of the First World, and Rigi copied as much as possible. “Repeat,” the female commanded after Rigi had filled a page.

  Rigi read back what she had copied, as best she could. Human and Staré mouths did not work the same way, and some sounds she could only approximate. “Not perfect,” the female coughed. “But will serve. Repeat,” she began again, continuing from where she’d stopped. Rigi filled two more pages, reading back each time, before the female fell asleep. Rigi shook out her fingers as she checked the others. The males seemed locked in the fever phase, still not sweating. Rigi looked away from the sweat-soaked modesty drapes on the older female and one male. Why did they need tags to identify Stamm, she wondered? Even without fur, the smaller body size and darker skin color told her that these were first Stamm.

  Since the males seemed unwilling or unable to move, Rigi went from bed to bed, checking charts and getting a sense of how many and who. If all the individuals on this side of the dividing drape were first, then she was seeing a fifth of the first Stamm in Sogdia! No, that couldn’t be right, could it? There had to be more, she just didn’t know them all since so few first Stamm associated with humans. In fact, until the riot, Tankutshishin had been the only first Stamm she’d knowingly seen, since Kor pretended to be seventh or OutStamm.

  “Nee!” One of the males screamed. Rigi jumped, then ran to him. He started to thrash, sweat gushing from his forefoot and hindfoot pads and groin-glands. “Nee! I cannot go, stop, I cannot go, get away, drive it away!”

  Where was the doctor or a nurse? Rigi didn’t see anyone and didn’t know how to call for help. He tried to rip the line from his foreleg and she put her hand over it. With her other hand she stretched up, caught his head, and started massaging the base of his ear. His movements slowed, and she risked letting go of his foreleg, instead palpating the ear bases as if he were a pouchling or hopling. “It is gone,” she told him. “You are safe, you may stay.”

  He inhaled, an enormous sniff, and went limp. The modesty drape turned dark with moisture as she watched, and Rigi checked the instructions on his chart. If the fever broke, increase fluid flow by twenty-five percent as soon as possible. She found the controller and felt a wash of relief. They were using a star-empire-standard system, one she’d learned about and that had very simple displays and adjustments. Rigi had to stretch a little to reach the controls, but she got the flow adjusted properly and made a note of the time on the chart.

  Half an hour later Mrs. Australi returned with a gowned Staré. “Dr. Chee, this is the new ward monitor. Miss Bernardi speaks Staré and has been with high Stamm.”

  The physician froze. She could see his eyes over a muzzle drape, and they dilated. //Surprise/awe/mild distress//. “Miss Bernardi? Known to the Elders?”

  She bowed to him. “Yes, honored Healer, I am she.”

  He bowed in turn. “This is Wise One,” he enunciated in Common. “Known to all. Trust by all.” Rigi blushed. “Is best for this place, sign of blessing.” He changed to Staré and pointed to himself. “Am Tsee. Report, please, Wise One.”

  “The female spoke and I calmed her.” She pointed to the drenched male beside her. “His fever broke, I soothed him and adjusted fluids per orders.”

  Dr. Tsee’s ears sagged to the sides, then straightened up //relief/satisfaction//. “Good. Continue. This ward is for First and high Second until the fever breaks and they recover enough to eat and drink on their own, when contamination becomes danger. Emergency call is button by flat-surface-work-area,” he pointed to the desk and Rigi saw a large square slap-switch. “Normal call is beside. If fluid level below line, call. If crisis, urgent call.”

  “Emergency call is large button on flat-surface-work-area,” Rigi repeated back. “Normal call beside, call normal if fluid low, urgent call for crisis.”

  “Correct, Wise One,” he ear-bowed. He turned to go. “Oh, sanitation there,” he gestured toward an alcove. “More drapes beside in hanging bags.”

  Dr. Tsee departed before she could ask about sedatives and contamination, leaving Rigi alone once more with the rows of Staré.

  4

  Losses and Memories

  The next two weeks passed in a blur of calming Staré, recording tales and memories, eating, sleeping, bathing once or twice, and helping Dr. Tsee. He decided that Rigi could touch patients without contamination and so told everyone else, as she discovered later. As it was, Rigi felt too tired after the second—or was it third day?— to explain to the humans why the medical Staré treated her with such deference. Once in a while, usually as she cleaned up after an attack of loose bowels, Rigi wished he had not had so much faith in her. As it was they lost two patients the second day, the elderly female she’d taken dictation from, and a young male who scratched.

  Rigi had been soothing a female with hallucinations. That seemed to be common, she discovered, and at least half the patients had to be soothed more than once before the fever broke. After she bathed, Rigi put on some of the soothing/ca
lm scent she’d made and it seemed to help, or at least it did not hurt. She’d been palpating the female’s ears and assuring her that no one wanted to take her hopling when she heard a wet, tearing sound, and an agitated voice shrieking “Kaah!” Rigi finished her words and turned around to see the young male staggering toward her, spraying blood from his neck. Rigi jumped to the emergency call and slapped the button, then grabbed the clean modesty cover she’d picked up to put on a different female and hurried to the young male. He had unusual blotched ears, and he staggered again, almost crashing into a bed. Rigi grabbed his foreleg and tried to stanch the blood. He’d sliced his neck, cutting an artery! He stopped walking and sank into a crouch, then fell over. Off balance, Rigi went with him, still trying to stop the blood flow.

  Dr. Tsee and two human nurses arrived. “Here,” Rigi called in Common. “Arterial bleed.” She yielded her position to one of the women, who tried to compress the wound as well. When she lifted the cloth away, Rigi saw an enormous gash, as if the male had ripped a chunk of himself loose. Dr. Tsee shone a light on the male’s forefoot and a wet, red-pink blob of something quivered under the beam. Rigi looked away and went to wash her hands and reapply sani-glove spray before resuming soothing the female. The young male died. Two seventh Stamm orderlies removed his body, then cleaned the floor. Dr. Tsee burned a little incense, the first Rigi had seen, cleansing the place where the body had been. A middle-aged female replaced the male in that bed, and life went on. Rigi tried not to think about it, although she did pray for the spirit of the deceased.

  The number of incoming ill grew until the doctors ordered the partition removed and she had twenty-eight first and high second Stamm, including a few hoplings, in the ward. She didn’t ask how many other wards, or where the other Stamme went. The late arrivals hallucinated more strongly, and more insistently, demanding that she recite and learn the Memory Chants. She wondered if they feared another collapse such as had happened during the first fur-drop outbreak, when so many first Stamm had died that the southern Staré lost large swaths of their oral tradition and group memories. Rigi didn’t ask, she just took notes, repeated back what she heard, and filled four paper data pads. She saved them in the desk cubby, not certain if she should put them in the burn bag or not. Her world seemed to shrink to the ward, the necessary and wash area, and the sleeping and eating rooms.

  She never saw her roommate. They seemed to be working opposite each other, one sleeping while the other was on duty. Rigi didn’t think much of the food, but then reminded herself sternly that she’d gotten terribly spoiled by Shona and to be grateful for plenty of food even if it was rather bland and repetitive. When she did get to bed, just before, Rigi sketched, general impressions of what she’d seen and done. It helped, draining her memory before sleep. She didn’t have nightmares, thanks be, at least not yet. And Martinus helped too, just being there. The first night she’d started dreaming, then moved her bed and slept on the floor beside him. Twice she was able to take him outside and romp, running around in a scraggly garden inside the building walls. Rigi wondered what the building had been before a warehouse, then dismissed the thought and reversed direction, slapping Martinus on the rump. “Wooeef!” He skittered on a bit of pave, turned around and chased her around and around the garden, never quite catching up. He could if he wanted to, but he seemed to like playing chase and being chased, and had yet to get her.

  Eight days passed before Rigi noticed a change. Fewer new patients came in to replace those who died or who moved into the next section. Dr. Tsee ordered some of the beds removed, and the number of ailing Staré dropped to ten, then six, then only four. One of those, a male of medium age with an oddly-shaped tail, had just begun the shedding phase when he was brought in. A few hours later, Rigi pushed the non-urgent call. Not long after, Dr. Tsee and Mrs. Australi appeared. “Yes?”

  “Honored Healer, this male is, ah,” Rigi didn’t want to use the word because she wasn’t supposed to know it. She groped for something polite. “That is, his fur and his person do not match.”

  Mrs. Australi blinked and joined the doctor and Rigi at the side of the cot. Dr. Tsee studied the medium brown skin, and the few bits of black fur remaining. His ears tipped until they lay flat backwards, a sign of intense displeasure and anger, and what little Rigi could see of his fur fluffed up. “This is . . .The plague reveals falsehoods as well as unkind hearts.” He straightened up. “We move him away, not out of this ward, but away. And we report him to those who have recovered.” He picked up the electronic chart and made several notes, his jaw working back and forth as he did, ears moving in counterpoint. “Naughty male indeed" //disgust/anger//.

  “What is wrong, Doctor?” Mrs. Australi asked in Common. Dr. Tsee pointed to Rigi.

  “This male is not a first, ma’am. He’s at best third, I’d guess high fourth based on his lower body. You can see even here how his color shades paler. He used fur dye, but the underskin told the truth.” Rigi wondered what would happen to him. She could imagine, and it would not be nice. Deliberately breaking Stamm upwards for personal gain, especially something this gross, brought terrible punishment or so Rigi had heard. Because Kor broke it downward, his transgression appeared to be ignored, or it was after he had undergone the proper purifications, Rigi reminded herself. And Kor was Kor.

  When the last patient’s fever broke, Dr. Tsee said, “Miss Auriga, can you stay a few days longer?” He touched his chest with a forefoot. “We have need of assistance in the general ward for third through fifth, and only two truly fluent interpreters. Many volunteer, but know only business words, not healing words, and do not truly understand Stamm, although they intend no harm.”

  She had nothing else that she needed to do, and she wouldn’t start her cycle for a few more days yet, or so Rigi guessed. She had not looked at a calendar recently. “Yes, honored Healer, I can stay.”

  He ear bowed. “Thank you. Your presence has been a blessing, a gift indeed, and this one hesitates to ask for more.”

  “Those of my Tradition believe that gifts given must be used for as long as they are needed, when and wherever the need is greatest. For now, that is here.”

  And so it was that Rigi opened the door to the general ward, following Dr. Tsee in, and almost collided with a man in military uniform. “Your pardon, Miss, I—Rigi?”

  “Capt. Prananda?” Rigi blinked up at Tomás, who blinked back.

  “You are known to each other.” Dr. Tsee puffed //amusement/calm//.

  “Yes, honored Healer,” Tomás said. “We are both students of Korkukalya and of Lexissol Trent.”

  //Surprise/interest//, and Dr. Tsee’s ears flopped forward a little. “Miss Auriga, please monitor and observe, calming and assisting as needed. But,” he held up one forefoot, bending two digits and the thumb and wagging one black-clawed digit as if mimicking a human’s single-finger caution. “If you hear a cough, push the red button beside that patient’s bed, and put a muzzle drape on them. Pulmonary disease is the greatest danger patients face until their immune system recovers. And mind the new fur. The patients remain sensitive to the touch and to light until the first layer of haircoat regrows, which is why some have their eyes bandaged closed.”

  “Do as before, except for respiratory problems. Patients remain light and touch sensitive,” she repeated back. “Red button for coughs, put on a muzzle drape.”

  “Correct. We have more nursing staff here, but more are still needed.” Indeed, Rigi counted at least thirty Staré in the closest section, and the room looked and sounded huge. Open wards seemed so primitive, but given the large number of sick and the mixed Stamme, it was probably the only solution, especially for patients past the initial critical phase. //Frustration// “We cannot give the common anti-pneumonia boosters because of the immune suppression caused by the initial illness.” He sounded as if he took it as a personal insult.

  Dr. Tsee departed, leaving Rigi with Tomás. She looked at him, he looked at her, and after a moment he scuffed the floor
with a boot toe. “I think the books say I’m supposed to ask what a nice young lady like you is doing here, or to say something about we have to stop meeting like this.” He gave her a slightly embarrassed smile.

  She returned the smile. “I was needed, that’s the short answer. And I think Mother didn’t fuss because she is probably planning my coming-of-age dance and no longer has to worry about my objecting to anything, since I’m too busy to comment. Apparently there are not that many who are fluent in Common and Staré.”

  “No, there aren’t.” He frowned. “Not as many as I had always thought. And even fewer of those are aware of all the Stamm laws, not that I’m an expert.” Tomás looked around the ward. “Most of my command went down despite taking precautions. It appears that whatever it is really did come in on the wind, with the glittering dust. The southern Staré are much harder hit than those of the Kenusha Plains. Eighty percent illness rate. Thanks be that Kor was, is, immune or I don’t know what I’d have done.”

  “He is? Thanks be. Lexi got sick but allergies, not this, or so Aunt Kay said.”

  Tomás nodded. “Lexi’s immune system probably hunts germs down before they can affect him, allergies aside, he’s had so many vaccines and boosters. He and Uncle Eb are probably almost germ proof.” He snorted a little and shook his head. “That early wet-season sniffle excepted, of course.”

  “Of course.” Uncle Eb got the worst wet-season sniffle every year, honking into a handkerchief and sounding terribly stuffed up when he wasn’t honking. Aunt Kay always took a solo vacation about that time. Rigi looked around once more and squared her shoulders. “Duty calls.”

  “Indeed it does.” They went different directions as if by unspoken agreement. He turned toward the fifth Stamm section and she started with third.

  An older female seemed to be restless, and Rigi went to her. Her vital signs appeared weak but close to normal, and a faint fuzz of hair covered her. “Where am I?” A light bandage covered her eyes and she turned her head left and right.