I was humiliated. I stayed in my room with Zuran long after the patient apparently calmed, and it wasn’t until nightfall that I felt brave enough to venture out again. To have an emotional breakdown at any time was something I didn’t want others to see, but to have one when I was supposed to be helping, or even saving a life, was something I didn’t think I’d ever live down. Surprisingly, nobody but me seemed bothered. Antoinette gently asked me if I was all right and if I needed to talk, and Dr. Griep told me yoga was a great natural stress reliever, but, other than that, not a word was said about my disappearance. The A’li-uud healers acted like they hadn’t even noticed I was gone—which, they probably hadn’t.
Even though I wasn’t criticized or degraded for what had happened, I still threw myself head-and-shoulders into working alongside the doctors, nurses, and healers to figure out this disease. I wanted to prove to them I wasn’t weak, that I was capable and knowledgeable and useful, but I also wanted to prove it to myself. When another Novai had a seizure several days later, I was right there by his side to keep his airway open and follow Dr. Griep’s orders. I didn’t even let myself think Finnie’s name. Since her passing, I’d dedicated myself to helping others, and I needed to know I was still able to do that.
When Zuran removed me from the hall that day, he’d unwittingly opened the door to an unexpected friendship. Two weeks after he’d held me in my room while I sobbed onto his bare, rock-hard chest, we’d become close. I was still attracted to him, seeing as he was basically a god in alien form, and his mischievous grins still made my insides squirm, but he wasn’t just eye candy anymore. He was a friend, a companion, someone I could trust and rely on and talk to and laugh with. He’d become three-dimensional to me, and, though he often tried to hide it, I saw another side to him I would’ve never imagined existed.
“Sometimes I wonder if they’re just going to leave us here,” I admitted one evening. We were sprawled out on the sand several yards from the hospital. He was on his back with his arms crooked behind his head in that careless way he liked, and I was lying with my head on his stomach, looking up at him. It shouldn’t have been comfortable, given how solid his abdomen was and how rough the sand felt against my skin, but it was. He made me comfortable.
“Who?” he asked idly. He’d been staring at the sky, which was beginning to turn the same color of rich, deep blue as him, but he tilted his face down slightly to peer at me through his slit lids.
“The Elders. Dhal’at. Everyone.” I shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like the universe has forgotten about us. That, when this is all over and we kick the crap out of this disease, the Novai will go on their merry way and we’ll still be here.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I think I would quite like it if they did,” he mused.
I scoffed and jeered, “Well, of course you would. You don’t do anything all day while the rest of us are running our butts off.”
A glint crossed Zuran’s gaze, and I instantly knew I was in trouble. He rolled out from under me in a flash, and, without warning, he was hovering above me. My heart jumped into my throat with terrified excitement as he leaned so close the tips of our noses touched, and he murmured menacingly, “You think so, do you?”
One of his hands snatched my wrists together and slammed them to the ground over my head while the other darted to my side. His fingers danced viciously up my rib cage and circled back down to my navel, where he skittered his nails in haphazard strokes until he found the sensitive place above my hip. I shrieked with giggles, writhing against his grasp, but he refused to stop. The heat radiating from his body intensified in his enthusiasm and warmed me to a light sweat.
He had discovered I was ticklish by accident when he’d been lifting me to show me what he thought was an oasis in the distance. Since then, he’d found every excuse he could to attack. Apparently, tickling was not a standard A’li-uud practice, usually only performed on babies, but Zuran was a prankster by nature and seemed to get great enjoyment out of making me laugh hysterically.
“Okay!” I panted through my squeals. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!”
His hand slowed, but he didn’t stop it completely. His nails still traced light patterns over my belly, which made me twitch even though it felt soothing. “I thought as much,” he said with satisfaction.
We were so close, our mouths only an inch or two apart. I was bathed in his scent from head to toe, and I never wanted it to fade. All he had to do was lean down a little more, fill the void between us, and his lips would be on mine.
Something thumped to the ground behind my head, and I heard, “I hope we are not interrupting.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zuran
I scrambled off of Phoebe onto my knees, but I did not rise. Staring down at us were Vi’den and Sevani, the former looking as serene as usual and the latter tempestuous.
“No,” I said irritably. I felt differently, but I was not going to admit to it. “I was not aware you were to visit tonight.”
“It was unplanned,” Sevani sneered. He was looking at Phoebe as though she were a homunculus, and my defenses rose. In her surprise, she had bolted upright into a sitting position and twisted her neck unnaturally far to see the Elders over her shoulder. I gently helped her turn toward them, though I added pressure to encourage her to remain seated. Sevani did not deserve her respect as long as he was staring at her so abhorrently.
“What can we do for you?” I addressed this question to Vi’den as I was uninterested in Sevani’s explanation of their impromptu arrival.
Vi’den smiled kindly at Phoebe before looking back at me. “We have come to speak to you about Venan,” he explained. “We felt you deserved to know what has happened.”
Though the desert night was already cool, I felt an icy chill shoot through me. My arms prickled with alarm, and several possible circumstances raced through my mind, all with the worst results. “What do you mean?” I demanded. “What has happened?”
“Venan has requested his trial date be moved up,” Sevani answered. Though I wished to look at anything but him, I allowed my gaze to turn to his choleric face.
The iciness I felt dissipated and left hot relief in its wake. I had anticipated news of something atrocious, like Venan’s health failing or an attempted escape. It had even crossed my mind that he would have done something so stupid as to get his hands on one of the guards’ weapons and attempt to take his life. To hear he had simply asked to have a trial sooner than planned was as slight as hearing he was discontent with the meals he was receiving.
“I appreciate your informing me, though I am uncertain why this warranted a personal visit,” I said.
Vi’den glanced at Sevani with an expression of hesitancy. Sevani, on the other hand, was grim with subdued approval. I looked furiously between them, sensing there was something further they needed to disclose.
“He has expressed a desire to submit a guilty plea,” Vi’den revealed gently. “He wishes only to receive his sentence and fulfill it.”
I jumped to my feet before I knew what I was doing. Phoebe clambered up after me, and I felt her hand close warningly around mine. I did not shake her free, but I did not acknowledge her caution either. My temples were throbbing.
“You cannot permit this!” I hissed hotly. “He has done nothing for which to plead guilty!”
“He killed an Elder,” Sevani replied with cool indignance.
“That was a mistake!” I shouted. Phoebe’s hand slipped from mine as I swung my fist outward in my rage and gestured at the A’li-uud before me. “He was trying to protect Kharid! What would you have had him do instead?”
Vi’den opened his mouth to respond, but Sevani overpowered him. “I would have trained him not to behave so rashly,” he returned. “A good warrior knows when it is wisest to act and the risks involved. If he had performed his duty appropriately, he would have realized Elder Kharid was in harm’s way, and he would have waited until the opportune moment to execute.”
“The Novai was stronger than Kharid! Every second Venan waited was a second closer to the Novai having the advantage!” I bellowed. “Not to mention the risk the Novai posed to the group of humans in the room!”
Phoebe shifted uncomfortably, and, again, she reached for me. Her fingers closed around my forearm, but I shook her free this time. I was furious, utterly out of control with wrath, and I was afraid she would become an unwitting victim if I lashed out. Vi’den reached for Sevani too, gently resting his fingertips on the Pentaban Elder’s shoulder to quiet him, but there was too much animosity between us for either to acquiesce to peaceable conversation.
“If you believe Elder Kharid had the disadvantage when he was flanked by three warriors and a handful of humans, perhaps the entire Dhal’atian militia needs to be retrained to prevent another incident like this one arising in the future,” Sevani snapped.
“Or perhaps the Pentabans need to take a leaf out of Venan’s book,” I snarled back.
Vi’den stepped forward then, placing himself between Sevani and me. “Enough,” he intoned. He did not yell, nor did he attempt to speak over us, but his voice was deep and unyielding. Lifting a hand to me to signal a demand for silence, he looked at Sevani. “You know better than to engage in petty arguments, Sevani, particularly when they are regarding a topic of this subject matter. Zuran is emotional, and that is to be expected. Allowances must be made.” Sevani started to speak back, but Vi’den dropped the hand in front of me and instead raised the other to the Pentaban. “And you, Zuran, need to remember Elder Sevani is your superior, no matter which kingdom is under his reign. He has earned and deserves respect from every Albaterran citizen, and that includes you.”
“He has decided my brother is guilty before a trial has even been held,” I growled.
“It is the duty of the Council and each of its members to examine every side of the story before making a judgment,” Vi’den said smoothly. He glanced at Sevani. “I trust Elder Sevani will uphold his part of that obligation.”
“Of course,” Sevani answered through tight lips.
Vi’den lowered his hand and rotated his body to fully face me, blocking Sevani from my view. “We only have come to tell you about Venan’s request. The Council has yet to review. When a decision has been made, I will return to keep you informed.”
It was not lost on me that he specifically indicated only he would be coming back to tell me of the Council’s decision, and I relaxed minutely. “Thank you,” I muttered. The gratitude was severely lacking in my tone, but Vi’den inclined his head anyway. Then, he turned.
“We best be on our way, Sevani,” he said. Without waiting another moment, Sevani leaped into the air and disappeared into the wind, a method of travel only bestowed upon Elders. Before Vi’den joined him, however, he looked back at us and said, “It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Morris. I trust all is going well?”
“Yes,” Phoebe squeaked, eyes wide. She was either terrified or stunned that Vi’den knew her name.
“Wonderful. Zuran, I will be speaking with you soon.” And, with that, he jumped and vanished.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Phoebe
“Two of the Novai have entered the second stage of mutacorpathy,” said Petas. “The scabbing has begun to form on skin.”
Mutacorpathy was the name our team had given the disease affecting the Novai. It was in keeping with the names human often gave diseases and conditions, but some of the A’li-uud healers found it too strange and refused to use the term. Petas wasn’t one of them. He was a rather aged A’li-uud who had spent his entire adult life as a healer and had, thus, developed an intolerance for arguments or anything that got in the way of actually doing his job. When the name “mutacorpathy” was first floated and the other healers turned up their noses, Petas immediately gave them a swift lecture about their purpose here.
“It is not your job to choose a pretty word,” he barked. I was surprised he spoke English rather than his native tongue to berate his peers, but I was pleased I could understand him. “Your job is only to stop the suffering of these creatures and prevent this illness from spreading further. Now, do it, and quiet yourselves!”
It was nice to get some support from an A’li-uud healer, particularly because thus far the others had been almost critical of human treatments. We had pretty much gone through the gamut of possibilities, trying everything from blood work to x-rays--or, as the A’li-uud called them, PIHs-- and nothing had panned out. The general mood throughout the hospital was one of despair. I, personally, was becoming frustrated with our lack of results. The symptoms of mutacorpathy were still evident in all of the Novai, but absolutely nothing worked in the way of treatment. If we were going to figure out how to destroy this disease, we were going to have to start getting creative.
Everyone was gathered in the conference room. Petas had one of the silver discs with its glowing cyan image of a Novai face before him, but I felt as hopeless as I did that first day when the Council addressed us all. It was like we had taken a million steps and gone nowhere. I was exhausted, Antoinette was exhausted, Dr. Griep was exhausted, and even the healers had developed navy blue bags beneath their slanted eyes. Whatever was affecting the Novai was either incredibly sneaky, or it was the first of its kind, and we were completely unprepared to handle it.
One of the things I had actually enjoyed about being a part of this team was learning about A’li-uud medicine. They were actually much more technologically advanced than I had initially thought. There were the imaging holograms, of course, and the array of strange tools that turned out to perform the same functions as their human equivalents. But there were also things I hadn't even imagined possible. Non-invasive devices meant to assist respirations were injected into each patient's chest beneath their sternum through a hair-thin syringe. Blood typing and cell counts were able to be performed without drawing blood at all, but instead through the use of a smooth metal tool the shape of a bar of soap that presented the results on a tiny screen after being placed on any of the pulse points. Perhaps the thing I found most incredible of all was what I had assumed to be the A’li-uud version of an earplug until Petas inserted it into one of the Novai’s ears and nodded with satisfaction.
“What does that do?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“It reads brainwaves,” he said. He held out his hand and showed me a second earplug on his palm. “Come, I will show you.”
He took one of the silver discs from the nearest cabinet and pushed the ear plug into the hole on the back. A lit image appeared, but, rather than cyan, it was toxic waste green and showed an animated graphic of the patient's brainwaves in real time. I was in awe.
“Why have they not given these to the colony infirmary?” I breathed, leaning so close to the pixels I could feel the slight heat they emanated on my skin.
“I cannot say,” Petas replied. “Perhaps our instruments were rejected by your leaders.”
“If they were, it had to be because they hadn't seen them in action. This is incredible.” I pushed my hand through the moving lines and watched as the light danced on my fingers instead.
This amazing equipment was, of course, only diagnostic. In no way did it treat the disease. Nevertheless, we were able to get answers to the questions we needed answered in order to even form treatment plans. Whether those plans were successful or not was another matter, and so far, they were not.
Now, we were in this conference room in hopes of pinning down a new plan that would prove successful.
“As the second stage is primarily physical in effect,” said Petas. He had taken it upon himself to run our meetings, which fit perfectly with his direct, no-nonsense attitude. “I believe we will be able to formulate a new series of tests that could open a number of possibilities to a valid treatment. As of yet, we have been unable to identify a surge in antibodies, but with the onset of these new symptoms, we may very likely find ourselves with data that will lend itself seamlessly to a logical and effective
treatment. Over the next few days, we must be diligent in our observations. Everything should be noted, even the slightest change. It could make the difference in our efforts.”
I couldn't have agreed with him more. Though we were all feeling dejected with our lack of progress, I felt optimistic. In my experience, diseases and illnesses of a physical nature tended to be better understood and therefore better treated. Working in the ER meant that, more often than not, I was helping people who had gotten themselves into some kind of unfortunate accident or fallen ill with a generally non-threatening virus. There was almost always a solution to their problem that didn't even require an overnight stay. Of course, there were the exceptions. Sometimes cancer patients came in suffering severe side effects of their condition. Other times, like my sister, a single symptom turned out to be only the tip of the iceberg into something much more horrible. But most of the time there was a treatment, and the treatment was effective. One of my favorite co-workers, however, worked in Cleveland Memorial’s mental health ward. Things were not so cut-and-dry up there. They had their go-to medications--anti-anxiety pills, sedatives, and so on--but identifying the core cause of a patient’s mania or breakdown was oftentimes a guessing game for too long. That's what this felt like, like a guessing game, but now I felt like we had a real shot at curing the Novai. All we had to do was collect the pieces of the puzzle and start assembling.
“Since we are now entering this new phase of research, I am hoping six volunteers will step forward to monitor our patients overnight,” Petas went on. “We do not want to miss a single development, so it is critical we have eyes on the Novai at all times.”
Several spoke their agreement to the request, Dr. Griep among them. Out of all of us humans, he had been the most intrigued by the work we were doing. Just like me, he was fascinated by the various A’li-uud diagnostics tools, but he had developed a vivacious determination to diagnose, treat, and cure the mutacorpathy. I wasn't even sure if the man had slept more than four hours a night since the Novai arrived.
Zuran: A Paranormal Sci-Fi Alien Romance: Albaterra Mates Book 6 Page 10
