by Laura Kaighn
Coty chortled. “I bet that got her spirits up. I was black and blue for two weeks after what Vesarius still calls a divergence of opinion.”
Tjon nodded in understanding. “Come on, Captain. I will let you peek in on them if you’ll keep quiet.” In response, Coty drew his forefinger and thumb across closed lips. He shadowed Tjon from the office and through the double doors of the ICU.
In the booth, now cleared of medical equipment, Dorinda Tanner lay once again on her back. The bed’s stasis field suspended her slender frame, allowing air to circulate freely to the healing wound beneath. Tanner slept, her once pale face showing more color around her high cheekbones than last the captain had observed. Alongside, Vesarius was slumped forward in a chair. The warrior’s head reposed atop one bent arm which rested on the bed beside Dorinda’s pillow. The Vesar’s other hand still held the woman’s long fingers in a supportive handclasp. The sight was both serene and disconcerting to the spaceship captain.
Signaling a retreat, Coty confronted the doctor outside the ICU. “Do you and Sheradon deem it more important that Vesarius stay with this woman than return to duty? I need him on the bridge.”
Tjon nodded once. “His company is crucial to Ms. Tanner’s recovery. She was ready to die when she found out she was trapped here. Tanner needs the commander to keep her motivated, Captain. Only when she’s willing to walk again will she begin to accept her new life here, to be a productive citizen.” Tjon glanced back at the ICU. “Yolonda and I see that as the most important work Vesarius can do right now.”
Coty regarded the shorter woman for a moment longer then nodded once in grudging agreement. “Very well, Doctor. Just make sure Vesarius logs a complete report to me regarding his missing time.”
Arabbi Tjon briefly clasped her superior’s arm. “I’ll make sure he gets those orders, Capt. Coty. Good day.” As Coty left, he missed Tjon’s orangutan Kin Sumatra amble in with a questioning image. “Yes, my friend,” Tjon observed. “I do think military men see the world only in failures, victories, and strategic encounters. Doesn’t say much for the really important things, does it?” The doctor returned to her report.
* * *
Someone touched his hair, was stroking the dark strands which had fallen loose again from his braid. Raising his chin from the bed Vesarius witnessed a pair of wistful jade-colored eyes meet his. Dorinda smiled sadly and whispered, “You’re still here.”
Though edged in remorse, Vesarius mirrored her smile. “I would be no other place, Green Eyes.” Sitting up stiffly he stretched his back. When he caught her glance again, the Vesar reached to grasp her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “I must get the doctor. She will probably insist that you eat a house then run the five kilometer.”
Dorinda cringed at the invoked images. “I think it’s supposed to be a horse.”
Vesarius grimaced in return. “Humans eat the strangest things.” He stood to leave. “I will be right back.”
As the warrior turned away, however, Dorinda grabbed for his hand. “Vesarius? Did I ... shpleep out?”
Broadly Vesarius grinned then patted her hand. “No, Green Eyes. You are the brave woman who pulled a stranger from the bushes and death. You returned him to his world where he would not have to hide from fear and hatred.” He nodded. “I will return.” Vesarius walked out of the ICU in search of Dr. Sheradon. He found Tjon’s Kin Sumatra busy evaluating various pieces of equipment in the emergency center. “Is Dr. Sheradon available?”
Sumatra studied Vesarius with passionate brown eyes then shook her hairy head. She pointed toward the doctor’s office with a knobby forefinger. Nodding his thanks, Vesarius strolled in to find Tjon busy at the desk’s computer station. “Well, well. The dead have arisen.” Arabbi stood from her work to greet the Vesar with an encouraging smile. “Is she awake?”
“Yes. I came for further instructions.”
Dr. Tjon’s round lips settled into a slow smirk. “Just keep doing the wonderful job you’re doing, Commander. I’ll get someone to bring you both some dinner. Then perhaps we’ll see about getting Ms. Tanner to try out her new spine.”
Optimistic by this last news, Vesarius offered the physician a genuinely cheerful grin. “I will tell Dorinda.” As he marched back to the ICU, Tundra joined him. The Vesar smacked the Alaskan malamute on the rump. “Good news, my friend. Dorinda will be strolling the halls in no time.” Striding into Dorinda’s booth, however, Vesarius paused for the woman had fallen back to sleep. Her eyelids were reddened, temples wet with the salty streaks of her renewed despair.
Flopping back to his seat, Vesarius let his chin fall. “I have failed to repay your courage.”
“Vesarius?” someone called him softly. The warrior looked up to see Yolonda Sheradon standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her silver tunic. “You haven’t failed. You did more for Dorinda this morning than I did.” The doctor shrugged. “I can mend her wounds, correct her myopic vision, even immunize her against every possible contagion. But Dorinda’s not immune to this sense of isolation.” Yolonda dropped her arms. She stepped beside him to place a hand on his slouched shoulder. “You gave her courage. But she’s still afraid, still alone. Your job’s not done yet.” Sheradon patted him encouragingly. “Keep up the good work, and call me when she’s awake. I’ll be in checking on Careras.” Dr. Sheradon left the warrior with Dorinda.
With nothing to do but wait, Vesarius leaned back in his chair and absently stroked Tundra’s head. He was not even aware of his captain’s stare when an hour later Coty dropped by. “Working hard I see,” Michael Bear announced leaning in the entry.
Vesarius straightened quickly, clearing his throat. “Captain, I … I am under doctor’s orders to-”
“Relax, Sarius,” Coty said jerking away from the doorframe. “I agreed to the arrangement. I gather Tjon said nothing about a report I wanted from you?”
“No, Sir. I have gotten no orders from the bridge.” Vesarius stood and tugged at his silver medical coveralls. “What do you command of me?”
“Just your recollections of your trip through time. Missing log entries to be precise. How exactly did you meet this woman? What happened to you after falling through the Arch?”
Vesarius pulled at the silver jumper instantly hating its loose-fitting sterility. He began stripping to his more dignified sandsuit beneath. “I was injured, as you know,” Vesarius explained while he disrobed. “But I was able to limp to a roadside. There I stopped her vehicle by puncturing her tire with my blade.” Vesarius tossed the abandoned scrubs onto the chair.
“The hunting knife I gave you? Quick thinking, man.”
The warrior rubbed the back of his scalloped neck. “Not really. I may have lain there for nearly an hour before the idea occurred to me. I realized I was too far up the embankment to be seen by any passing vehicle – what I thought were hovercars. I knew I only had one throw. I just waited for a large target. I was not even aiming for the tire.”
Coty grinned, his curiosity no doubt piqued. “And how did she react to seeing you?”
“I had to stifle a scream,” Dorinda answered hoarsely from the bed. “I wanted to run.”
Both men turned to see the woman smiling shyly. Vesarius found his voice first. “Dorinda Tanner, this is my captain, Michael Bear Coty.”
Dorinda raised a hand to shake the captain’s. Coty remarked, “Such a weak grasp from such a courageous woman. Sarius, we must feed her.”
“I’d be happy if I could just get out of this bed.” Dorinda urged reluctant muscles to move her into a sitting position.
“No, Green Eyes. I will adjust the bed.” Vesarius stepped aside to press a button on the bed’s control panel unconscious of his captain’s curious brow. The top section of the platform rose. Sighing in relief, Dorinda thanked him.
Coty sidled down beside Dorinda to grasp her hand again. “So tell me, brave lady, what do you think of my friend here? Did his brusque warrior ways frighten you?”
Dorinda flushed. Her sli
ght smile accompanied lowered lids. She avoided the older man’s stare and poked at her nose. Vesarius recognized the gesture. Dorinda had adjusted her eyeglasses in the same fashion. “He upset me at first, but later ... Well. Vesarius made me laugh.”
Coty rolled his eyes to his Pompeii companion. “Oh ho. You’ve been charming her, you young war horse.”
Vesarius’ mahogany complexion flared. What was Coty doing? Why was he trifling with Dorinda’s discomfort? The Vesar stepped out from behind the bed to stand at his charge’s side. “I was simply attempting to ease her fears.” Gruffly he grunted his offense and considered the woman seated upon the platform. “Green Eyes, do not let Coty gain pleasure from an awkward situation. Past or present.”
Dorinda raised her gaze to meet his. “I thought the captain was your best friend. He’s trying to embarrass you.”
“Oh, but you don’t understand,” Coty defended. “Sarius needs his ego demoted a peg or two at least once a week.”
“The captain enjoys reminding me of my heritage,” Vesarius explained dryly. “Vesar, it seems, have very big heads. We of course simply argue that humans have very small ones.” He glared at Coty, daring a challenge.
Dorinda sighed tiredly. “Will you two stop? I’m not ready for all this excitement.” Her gaze shifted between the two men.
“You’re right, of course,” Coty agreed. “I beg your pardon.” Standing he released her hand. “Commander, if I can have a word with you ...” The captain ushered his first officer through the ICU and out into the ship’s corridor. “Vesarius,” he started when they were alone. “I’m sorry about Tanner being stuck here. I feel like I’m at a funeral where you talk about everything else but the deceased.” Sighing Coty leaned against the wall. “I need you back on duty.” When the Vesar started to protest, Coty waved him off. “I think Sheradon’s just trying to get me back for risking the crew for you. But we’re arriving at Fronznee Two in two hours, and I want you briefed and ready to report on the Orthop invasion at Mytok.”
“What is going on, Bear? Is the Alliance anxious for another confrontation? Sheradon said we lost-”
“I know what Sheradon said. Johnston and Belarus were good people. We’ll need to replace them as soon as possible. Along with replacements for Torch and Dr. Toh. That’s why I need you on the bridge. The smooth running of this ship is my responsibility. Sheradon’ll remind me of hers. So be prepared to take my back in battle, my Vesar friend.” Coty slapped the taller man on the arm. “Do you think you’re fit for duty, full time?”
Straightening Vesarius arched his still painful shoulder then gingerly patted his heart. “A Vesar warrior is ever ready to perform his duty. I am healed.”
“Good. Let’s go see the doctor.”
The two found Sheradon in her office overseeing the progress reports on her various patients. “All right, John. Then let’s move Careras and Maltz into recovery. They can start earning their keep in therapy. Tanner may be ready by morning after I’ve checked her wound for neural synthesis. But she gets fed first.”
John Igoni nodded his dirty-blonde head. “Already done.”
Sheradon bobbed her chin at the nurse practitioner, dismissing him when Coty and Vesarius stepped in. The doctor’s eyes never left her datapad. “I know why you’re here, Coty. And I’ll allow it, if you agree to one condition.”
Coty froze in mid-step his mouth dropping open. The Vesar, prepared for a verbal battle between the two professionals, remained rigid. Coty stammered, “What? No shouting?”
Sheradon’s lips had drawn a determined line. She raised icy eyes to them. “Captain, I realize the Orthop threat in this region is heightened because of recent events. I’m not ignorant of your need to replace lost crewmembers. However, I do require that the commander here revisit the medical center at least twice a day for Ms. Tanner’s sake.”
“That’s all?” Coty leaned forward no doubt still waiting for an explosive reply.
In answer, Yolonda addressed the Vesar warrior at attention beside his captain. “Cmdr. Tankawankanyi, I’m releasing you from medical. You’re free to return to light duty.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“No shouting,” Coty mumbled. He shook his head and turned to go.
“Captain,” Vesarius interrupted. “May I join you shortly? I must still be updated. And there is that report you requested.”
Coty nodded beside him. “Certainly, Commander. I’ll expect you on the bridge in one hour.”
“Yes, Sir.” Saluting gently, Vesarius marched from the med-center, leaving its sterility, his crewmates and the Earth woman behind.
* * *
Dorinda picked at her dinner. Then, with a sigh, she considered the barrenness around her. She blinked, marveling at the fine lines and details of the Pompeii’s spotless sickbay. No more glasses. I can get used to this. The doctor, Sheradon, had explained that correcting myopia was a simple procedure done to all infants born with the ocular deficiency. Now Dorinda’s natural sight was better than twenty-twenty. She could see everything clearly, especially the fact that she’d been stood up.
Where’s Vesarius? Dorinda held the impression that the Vesar and his captain would be gone only a moment. Now she was alone again, and it bothered her to think that what had been normal for so long now seemed desolate.
What’s the matter with me? Dorinda had liked being independent, away from pitying stares and tongue-lolling bachelors. I miss Casey. She battled the tears that steamed beneath hot lids. Vesarius had said it best. “I don’t belong here.”
Sniffling against her grief, Dorinda berated herself. I’m stuck here, plain and simple. I’d better cope with it, or they’ll commit me to their futuristic version of a funny farm. Deciding to start coping by getting out of bed, Dorinda set aside her food tray. She would find out where Vesarius had gone.
She had been testing her legs since the two men had left. Dr. Sheradon had assured Dori, her new spine was as good as the old one, minus the injuries. Along with optical medicine, cloning technologies had been perfected in the century since its initial research. There should be no difference.
Wriggling herself out from under the bedsheets, Dorinda flung her bare legs roughly over the side of the stasis field. She tugged her dressing gown to follow and shoved her spine vertical. Then, gathering her courage and cringing at the stinging, itching burn wound to her lower back, Dorinda hopped to the floor. With a grunt she promptly collapsed to her knees.
“Not bad, Dori,” she growled through gritted teeth. “At least your arms work.” Dorinda twisted into a sit. As she nursed her pride and pounded kneecaps, she heard shouts from outside the intensive care center. The dread of Sheradon’s rebuke impelled Dorinda to gather her limbs under her. She needed to regain her bare feet. Groaning, Dori hauled at the bedsheets and concentrated on commanding her quavering legs to hold her weight. It was more difficult than she expected. Frustrated tears were skidding down her cheeks by the time Dorinda finally leaned back to stand. She was out of breath and overheated but triumphant.
Next Dori grabbed the back of the cushioned chair beside the bed. Using it as a wheeled walker she shuffled her way along the wall toward the door. It was a painfully slow venture. First Dori had to shove one foot in front of her, then the other. “Come on,” she urged sensing the defeat rising along with her blood pressure. Her eyes now performed better than ever. So, why couldn’t she walk?
Once the exit was in reach, Dorinda abandoned the chair and faltered forward, clutching the open doorway. She hung on by sheer will and peeked into the ICU control center. There, several nurses were stomping about the large pieces of monitoring equipment, half-hunched and waving their arms as if to corral something into a corner. So busy were they that no one noticed Dorinda nearby, her knuckles white with the effort to keep her vertical.
“Watch out. He’s coming your way, John,” a dark-skinned woman warned.
John Igoni bent to grab at something then lurched aside with a holler. “Eh! He bit me.”
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Another nurse stood poised with a slim, silver pistol in her hand. “Damn it, Noah. Stand still, will you? This won’t hurt.” She was trying to aim the weapon at the moving target behind the machinery.
“No. Don’t kill it!” Dorinda commanded. Arms trembling, her legs buckled beneath her. She witnessed the surprised looks from several of the nurses as she slid down the doorframe. “Please don’t kill him,” Dori entreated this time with less authority. Her knees banged the hard deck again.
“Get Dr. Sheradon,” someone instructed.
“Noah, no!”
Dorinda’s head snapped up in alarm when a wiry, slender form bounded to within inches of her exhausted body. Dark eyes bulging in rage, the otter skidded to a stop. The creature’s ears were flattened. He hunched before the woman as if ready to pounce.
“Stay still, Ms. Tanner. I’ll get him.”
“No, don’t shoot,” Dorinda implored. She raised a hand to the advancing nurse with the gun. Gaze locking with the otter’s, Dorinda sensed the emotional turmoil there. “He’s afraid of the weapon. Back off.”
“He’s vicious, Dorinda,” John Igoni warned holding his wounded arm close. “He’ll tear you to shreds.”
Dorinda lowered her heedful hand, eyes still on the otter’s dark stare. “Back off. Please.”
* * *
“What’s going on in here?” Yolonda Sheradon demanded rushing into the room. When she spotted Noah crouched in front of the woman on the floor, the doctor commanded her staff. “Shoot him, Jocelyn.”
“No!” Dorinda insisted. “He’s afraid. Just leave him alone.”
“Dorinda,” Sheradon reasoned hands spread and taking a slow step forward. “This animal is grief stricken and malicious. He’s escaped from his cage. The weapon’s a dart gun. It’ll just knock him out.”
Dorinda’s gaze never left Noah’s beady glower. “He doesn’t want to sleep. The nightmares come when he sleeps. Please, just back away.”
“He’s communicating with you?” John Igoni blurted from beyond the bulk of the ICU’s monitoring station.
