Gentle Beast

by Margaret Afseth

  Bom hissed like a provoked cat. “I killed the varmint that did this! She would have made such a challenging foe. She had it in her to turn and fight. I could see that.”

  Loki gave no evidence he had heard. He examined the female more closely; he knew he had to make the effort. His nemeses would punish him if he didn’t seem to try.

  One eye was blacken, swollen shut. The nose and mouth were blistered; the lips cracked from dehydration. Her naked body was covered in bruises, and in raw patches the skin had been broiled away; the upper legs had at least third degree burns on the inner thighs and buttock. He didn’t dare examine in the private area.

  What has been done to this she? Have they tried to cook her alive?

  Tears sprang to his eyes; Loki swallowed hard with empathy, sympathy adding to the pain of this assessment.

  Why does this one affect me so profoundly?

  He touched her forehead. “She’s burning with fever,” he stated with candour. “Something has caused a sickness.”

  Bom growled disapprovingly. “I won’t eat a sick one. Kill it!”

  Loki shook his head. “I don’t kill, Bom,” he said quietly. “I’m a healer, not a butcher.”

  “Then take it to the kitchen. Feed it to the humans.”

  “Whatever this disease is, it’ll get into your food chain that way.”

  Bom snorted. “I don’t care what you do with it, just dispose of it.”

  Then, he turned about and stormed from the bay.

  Loki sighed.

  Maybe she will die on the way to the garbage chute.

  Anything I do for her will only prolong her agony…and she’ll end up back in the kennels after.

  For the first time in his life, he hated that he was a healer.

  ****

  Loki carefully lifted the battered little female. Just at that moment, she gave a small sighed inhalation. He moaned in despair.

  You would have to be a fighter, wouldn’t you?

  Nobody deserves to die like this. Why did they ever take her? She’s too old.

  I wonder if she has family. Are they in here too?

  Carrying her against his chest, so as not to jar her, he headed out of med bay. The garbage chute was near his quarters. Every step felt like he was doing something wrong.

  Oh, please, just die, little sweet one. Why do you have to keep taking another breath?

  He almost wanted to smother her, to end the misery.

  But is the wretchedness I wish to alleviate mine or hers?

  He came abreast of the stasis room, and thought of the Essence.

  In all this time, it has never given up.

  This one is another of like personality. To let her die is like snuffing out the life force of the Essence.

  I am in a belt, useless. But…there is a way…

  I’d have to hide the fact from Bom.

  He did say, he didn’t care what I did with her.

  A thought occurred to Loki.

  Bom said I could take a human pet…from the kitchens. Kitchen, disposal; what is the difference?

  He arrived at the disposal chute…and passed on by.

  I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t recognize her.

  Loki headed away down the corridor, to his bed nest.

  CHAPTER 13

  The first thing Loki did was put her on a mat on the floor of his quarters. He would have to leave her alone, while he finished the shift.

  I hope she lives until I'm off on sleep break.

  He took a sponge, soaked it in water; placed it to her lips. She sucked feebly at it, like a hesitant nursing infant. Having had the moisture to ease her thirst, the frail female drifted off again into a fevered sleep.

  Loki went back to work.

  ****

  It was the first wee hours after the Roog had gone to feast. Zaba and Uel had both already left for their sleep chambers; in fact Loki had purposely waited for the bay to be empty, so he could get the supplies he needed without arousing suspicion.

  He gathered sponges, syringes, tubing, ointment, disinfectant soap, a portable water pump and douche spray unit, a body brace, an artificial breather, and anything else he thought he might need, then headed off to his own quarters.

  When he got there, the little female was still breathing, though with great difficulty.

  Hang on little she. You are not alone anymore. Loki is going to help you.

  She was so small, not much bigger than half his size. So fragile, so delicate, he cringed at the things he must do to her.

  He gathered now from his own stores: an acetone solvent, he’d found in the supply store shortly after he’d arrived, which he had found useful to remove the grime he discovered everywhere in his suite; the shaver, tooth paste, hair shampoo, and a package of cotton balls; another of cu-tips, and last of all, an assortment of small bandages.

  I'll need something to clothe her with; maybe later, when she’s better, I’ll get something from More.

  I'll also need a place for her to sleep. For now, when she’s clean, she can stay with me on my bed.

  What if I can’t save her?

  He refused to go there. He had committed to it now, and he would see it through.

  He lifted her carefully, carried her gently to the shower in the corner, lay her out spread-eagle on the floor, in the one foot high tub-like depression.

  Loki suspected some sort of inner contagion had caused her fever, and the most likely area, as he deduced from her burned lower region, was inside the private area.

  She tried to deal with it herself. Smart, but ineffective.

  He dreaded to violate her so, but if he was right, it must be done.

  Loki stood up; left her there; fetched the douche machine, and rolled it near. Filling it with warm water mixed with disinfectant, he took the wand, and inserted it. For a minute or so, the water washed away brown, and he knew he’d been right, but then something seemed to block the flow. He removed the instrument. It came out covered in excrement.

  Loki shuddered in revulsion.

  Did she do this? Is she suicidal? That doesn’t make sense. If she is responsible, why would she try to remove the result with scalding water?

  He shook his head, putting the matter to the back of his mind.

  First things first!

  He tried to reinsert the wand, but it wouldn’t go in.

  He removed it.

  Only one thing to do.

  He shivered, not wanting to do this to her.

  Loki went for a pair of surgical gloves and a vaginal speculum. Spreading her legs, he inserted the instrument. He slipped one gloved finger deep inside.

  And that’s when he found the pessary. It had worked deeply inside blocking entry.

  If she was conscious, this would cause her extreme agony.

  It came out easily, pulled out with a liquid plop, covered in black, green and brown slime. He set it in the disposal tray at his side.

  Leaning back, he pondered.

  Fallen bladder, easily fixed.

  This time he went in with two fingers, and had the procedure done in seconds.

  At least, my minor healing ability is still available.

  After he had removed the expander, and finished the inner cleansing, Loki sat back, suddenly struck by a thought.

  Isn't it a common practice for human physicians to prescribe estrogen cream to lubricate and counteract dryness when a pessary is used?

  And didn't Bom say he took this female from breeding...even though she is obviously too old?

  Loki almost laughed then.

  They misinterpreted her scent! The dogs have been tricked! That no doubt saved her life at the time.

  He marvelled at this twist of fate.

  But, was this really just providence? Or maybe, like we Noor believe, the Mighty has a hand in guiding the universe after all?

  It gave Loki the hope to continue. He went back to his labours.

  Taking down the hand-held showerhead, he turned on the water, tested it
to make certain it wasn’t too hot. Not that she would consciously be aware, but he didn’t wish to burn her skin worse than it already was.

  Being careful not to jar the damaged neck when he moved her, he soaped and hosed her down back and front. The water easing away contained straw, filth, and grains of sand, as it fled toward the drain.

  She is so tiny…compared to my big muscular frame; the breasts are small, like those of my foster sister Twila.

  He recalled bathing Twila when she was younger and just beginning to form. She’d put a stop to it once she was mature, preferring rather to do it herself. He was still puzzled by that; he’d been acting as a brother.

  Didn't I care for her from the time she was orphaned, because Dia feared water? She is my sister! I am more than twice her age; I thought of her merely as the daughter I cannot have.

  Loki cleaned inside the ears.

  This she has tiny ears, not cat ears like me, like those I hide beneath my ginger curls.

  He gently washed her hair.

  She has such fine locks, not coarse like Roog and some of the Feline.

  At last he set away the sprayer wand, took a towel and carefully patted her dry. With the human still lying in the depression of the shower, he took his shaver, and began to remove the silver-white curls from her head. When she was completely bald, he gathered the cuttings and placed them in the disposal tray.

  He surveyed his work.

  One more thing to do…so Bom won’t recognize her.

  He went for the acetone solvent, knelt again, and with a small cotton ball, began to remove the red nail polish from her toenails.

  He had recognized the colour as fake, once again because of Twila. Before his sister had mated, she used to paint her toenails a brilliant green to get the attention of the males.

  This little she has delicate feet and toes, just like Twila.

  Twila had Noor feet; so did all the half Feline/Noor. It had always bothered momma Dia, so she hadn’t liked to wash her Foster’s feet.

  Remembering that, Loki chuckled.

  At last, content he’d done his best inside and out, Loki got his toothpaste. He gently opened her jaw expecting to find discoloured and broken teeth. In shock, he realized the cavity was empty.

  No wonder she wouldn’t eat! She wasn’t able to masticate.

  With his finger, and a smudge of paste, he cleaned inside the mouth.

  Next Loki went for the body brace. Shifting her gently to her belly, he fitted the flexible transparent binding along her back from just above the base of the skull to the bottom of her tailbone, and clamped it tight.

  With this apparatus keeping bones in place, she should heal perfectly…if my plan works.

  Through all his ministrations, the small female had laboured to breathe, never giving in to the shadow of death waiting. It was as if she knew she was being cared for by a sensitive, empathetic hand, and would do nothing to defeat the promise of recovery.

  Loki fetched the small breather mask, fitted it to her bruised face, and turned on the attached miniature oxygen cylinder. Immediately, her efforts grew less a struggle, and she seemed to relax, dropping into a deep coma.

  Don’t give up on me, little she. We’ve only just begun.

  He prepared a place on his bed for her, padding it with a catch sheet in case she went incontinent, covering that with an extra soft towel for added comfort.

  He lifted her tenderly, placed her on his sleep mat and covered her, then left to clean up his mess: to return the douche machine, empty the trash tray down the disposal chute …and prepare himself.

  ****

  Tubing and implants in his hand, Loki lowered to sit on his sleep mat beside the small female. He went to work immediately, first tying off his left upper arm. Then finding the artery in the indent of his inner elbow, he drove a large bore cannula into it, and attached tubing and clamp to the imbedded bore.

  Next he found a vein in the right inner elbow of the human, and inserted a similar but smaller cannula into it, then placed the other end of the tubing over it.

  Cautiously, he opened the clamp between them, and watched his life blood seep into the transparent channel, down toward the unconscious female, and into the waiting vein.

  He sighed heavily. All seemed good.

  Leaning back against the wall, he prepared to wait it out.

  He would do this for three more successive nights and hope his Noor blood would do the healing work that he could not.

  I can’t give you more than that; it will cost my life, and I have others to consider besides myself.

  After about an hour, Loki reclamped the tubing, removed his end of the apparatus, and detached from her insert, leaving it in, and covering it with a small bandage. He sat back and watched his own small incision slowly close and heal.

  At last, secure in the fact he’d done all he could for one night, he lay down beside his patient, and quickly fell asleep.

  It seemed as if he’d only just closed his eyes, when the pounding at the door drove him up from troubled dreams.

  “What is it?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “You are late, Loki,” warned Uel through the barrier. “Zaba has just come in. You’d better get to the bay before he misses you.”

  Loki groaned.

  Is it morning already?

  “I’ll be right there. I overslept. Sorry.”

  CHAPTER 14

  The Slither appeared out of thin air startling Twila. The snake-like human-cross known as Sith still unnerved her even though she knew it was loyal to Dia’s family, sworn to protect the females of her clan.

  Twila inhaled slowly to calm herself. “What is it? Is there a threat?”

  “No, mistress. Thor wants you at the board. There is a message coming through for you.”

  Twila frowned.

  Who would contact me directly?

  Having delivered the missive, Sith vanished as abruptly as he had appeared.

  “I’ll be at the board,” Twila told her foster father Kimon, as she passed by. Then moving at a leisured swinging gait, passed through the beds of the holding ward to the small alcove that held the communication centre with it’s many board connections. Every male eye followed her movements, albeit covertly.

  ****

  Thor was a large purebred Feline male with long black fur streaked with grey. He was a distant cousin to momma Dia, and as aged as she. It seemed he’d been around since before Twila was kit, and at the board equally as long.

  Having the superior knowledge, when Liam was home he would work first board, but Loki’s mirror image and mental half also was a rescue/warrior; when required he could be called away to search for a family or a lost kit, sometimes on some far away outer planet, as was the case today.

  Thor usually worked second board, or support, but today, he was alone, and manning all centres. He seemed stressed.

  The computer terminals not only connected the med bay to the inter-space communication system, coordinating rescues, incoming casualties, incoming messages, and medical queries from other medical stations, but also linked to the universal data library where all histories and medical knowledge of all registered beings, of any species, was stored. Usually, with his exceptional rapidity at assessment and board skill, Liam had no trouble keeping abreast of the demand, but he did the work of ten, he was half Noor. Thor was a mere Feline, and though he’d been boarding for almost a century, he was still only one male.

  As she came up on him, Twila sensed how overtaxed the elder was.

  They really need to train another male for these boards. Hasn’t Shiveron asked for such training? Maybe poppa Kim should let him?

  But then again, Liam is responsible for such instruction.

  “I was told, you have an incoming for me?”

  Thor hissed in annoyance. “Give me a moment. Silly board stream! I lost it. Let me reconnect.”

  Twila took a seat at the terminal at the far end.

  “There now,” Thor said at last. “I�
�ve directed to your board, and have placed it private. Don’t mind me. I’ll just continue going crazy.”

  Twila laughed. “I’ll help you after I’m finished, if you want, male?”

  “Naw. Things will settle down soon. Be glad when Liam comes back.”

  ****

  Twila turned her attention to the on-screen message. Reading it, her jaw dropped in shock.

  What’s this? There must be some mistake.

  'A compatible has been found that corresponds at ninety-nine percent of requirement. As all other matching females have rejected male, programme has gone to widowed mate rejection list. Thus you are notified, you may take second mate, should you so desire. Male requires sponsorship to enter into outer worlds, has no property. Has young female dependent, fourteen. Male is human with evidence of Noor infection…'

  “What! What? That’s impossible!”

  “Something wrong?” Thor asked from his corner.

  “No. No sorry. Just talking to myself.”

  No way he can be Noor infected! Dia and Kimon know every Noor; we are all in this nest, and none, that we know of, has infected anyone. Surely, an unknown cannot have slipped by my fosters!

  Twila read on.

  '…age thirty-four, healthy, and has minor training in mechanical repair. Male is immigrant from Forbidden Planet.'

  “You’re joking! He’ll be primitive, a savage!”

  “You can tame him,” came confidently from across the room.

  “Oh, and since when can you read minds, Thor?”

  He chuckled. “I smell hormone…and I know message came from mate list site.”

  “Ha! You keep this to yourself, do you hear?”

  “Mum’s the word. Are you going to accept?”

  “I don’t even know all the details yet; haven’t even seen what he looks like. Leave me alone, male, and get back to work!”

  Chortling to himself, Thor answered an incoming call.

  Twila sat back to ponder. She flipped to the dual pictures of the man and his daughter.

  Well, at least he’s not ugly.

  She shivered in spite of herself. It had been a long time since Jabek’s father had been tortured and killed.

  To be alone is hard.