Beyond Varallan

by S. L. Viehl

  “Been better,” I said. I couldn’t smile. My face hurt too much. “Signal Medical for me, will you? Let them know we’re bringing a patient.” I touched my cheek gingerly. Looked at the blood on my fingertips. “Make that . . . two . . .”

  Good thing he grabbed me. Didn’t need another head injury, I thought, and passed out.

  PART TWO:

  Explorer

  CHAPTER SIX

  Hired Guns

  After the challenge, Squilyp spent the next four days in a medical berth. He sulked, but otherwise behaved himself.

  I spent a day stuck in a berth myself. Despite a fractured cheekbone, facial lacerations, assorted bruises, and a splendid black eye, the damage healed in record time. Genetically enhanced immune systems had their uses. My rapid recovery gave the Omorr one more thing to brood about.

  None of the crew had much to say to either one of us about what had happened. Not all the Jorenians refrained from commenting, however.

  When Squilyp and I were brought in, the Senior Healer regarded us both with astonished disbelief. Her arched brows and open mouth were the first things I saw as I regained consciousness. The Omorr, I was pleased to see through the only eye that worked, was still out for the count.

  “What say you?” she was saying to Reever. “This was deliberate? They inflicted these injuries on each other?”

  Tonetka was, well, furious. When she decided to speak to me again, it was to inform me that if I ever repeated this stunt, she’d personally divert my path. Gave me all the gruesome details about how she’d do it, too. Then she followed that up with scalding opinions on my lack of restraint, supervisory skills, and common sense.

  I could have told her Squilyp had tricked me into the challenge. I didn’t. It was as much my fault as his, so I silently accepted the reprimand.

  Reever came back to check on me the first day. I thought that was rather sweet. For about two minutes.

  “You are far too reckless,” he said. He went on to tell me all the reasons why I shouldn’t have won the challenge.

  “But I did win, Reever. My warrior training paid off.”

  “You need more training in personnel relations,” he said.

  “Your mouth needs a few sutures!”

  Xonea never showed up. Dhreen stopped by and mumbled something about a whump-table and the surprising capacity for flight it had in the hands of a Jorenian in full rage.

  I went directly to my quarters after I was released from Medical. Jenner greeted me at the door panel with distinct suspicion.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” I asked. “I’m the one who feeds you.”

  Jenner’s fur rose as he peered up at my swollen, bruised face. Maybe, he seemed to say before he turned and stalked off, tail held high. When I would have stroked his back, he darted out of reach. Then again, maybe not.

  “Do I look that awful?” I asked as I closed the door panel.

  Large blue eyes blinked at me. You have no idea, stranger.

  I checked my console, then sat down and watched the stars through my viewport for a while. Eventually Jenner decided I wasn’t an imposter in a bad mask, and jumped up on my lap.

  So it is you. He sniffed at me. Where have you been, anyway?

  “Making a major mistake,” I said.

  His whiskers twitched. This is news?

  To his credit, His Majesty allowed me to cuddle and stroke him and never once objected to the tears that made damp circles on his soft fur. I held him for a long time, and came to the conclusion that the worst thing about regret was it never came before you did something really stupid.

  The next morning I reported for duty. The exhaustive relief efforts on NessNevat had created a considerable backlog in the patient schedule and adminwork, and we spent the next week getting Medical back in shape. Routine cases of minor injuries or illnesses came and went. Tonetka thawed enough to argue over patients with me again. Even Squilyp was his old, obnoxious self, although he pointedly avoided me now.

  The only difference I noticed was a marked change in the nurses. Before the fight with Squilyp, they had practically tripped over themselves to be helpful and friendly. Their attitudes now ranged from puzzlement to skepticism. They watched me when they thought I wasn’t looking. A couple of them openly avoided me altogether.

  I knew what they were thinking. A physician was supposed to repair damage—not inflict it. Someone who deliberately administered a beating might have no problem, say, sabotaging the stardrive. Or murdering the man who’d uncovered it. For the moment, there was nothing I could do but hope Pnor would find the saboteur. Soon.

  Not everyone was avoiding me. Alunthri and I spent more time together as the ship got closer to Garnot. We were having tea one afternoon when my door panel chimed. I opened it to find Fasala and her educator Ktarka waiting to pay me a visit.

  “Come in,” I said, waving my hand. “Alunthri is here. Hey, maybe we should have a party.”

  Ktarka and her pupil greeted the Chakacat and sat down with us. The child was disappointed when Jenner decided he’d had enough and fled to hide under my sleeping platform. I called him silly names until her smile reappeared. I was glad to see the healthy appetite she displayed when she spied the morningbreads and tea.

  “If it won’t spoil your next meal interval, help yourself,” I said. Turning to Ktarka, I asked what kind of beverage she preferred. The Jorenian woman was watching Fasala plow into the goodies. I had to repeat my question before she made a startled sound.

  “Forgive me.” Her hands danced apologetically as she gave me a rueful smile and nodded toward the little girl. “I find no end to my astonishment that Fasala has made such a quick recovery.”

  “Educator Ktarka came to see me every day in Medical Bay.” Fasala beamed at her teacher. The woman made a modest gesture and accepted my offer to try some Terran herbal tea Dhreen had smuggled off K-2 for me.

  “Very interesting blend,” she said. “On Joren, we—” The cup in her hand dropped and smashed on the deck as the Sunlace suddenly, violently destabilized.

  “Get down!” I stumbled, but managed to catch Fasala before she hit the decking. I rolled with her and held on until the ship’s stabilizers restored balance. Ktarka took her from me and I hurried to my com panel.

  I pounded the display, to no avail. My signal to Ship’s Operational wouldn’t go through. I rerouted to Medical Bay, and one of the nurses responded. I could hear Tonetka shouting in the background.

  “What happened?” I demanded

  “We’re under attack. Mercenary vessels. Several levels have been compromised. Healer—”

  The League had found us. Dear God. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

  I flung an apology over my shoulder and ran out of my quarters. Halfway to Medical, the ship pitched violently once more, which tossed me into one of the wall panels.

  I didn’t have time to feel the pain. I ran. Along the way I stopped twice to check on crew members sprawled in the corridor. One had only some minor lacerations and bruises. The other, a helm officer, had a dislocated shoulder. I swore under my breath as I realized it was Hado Torin.

  “I thought you wouldn’t be cluttering up Medical anymore,” I said as I checked him over. His repaired heart was functioning normally, but it certainly didn’t need the additional strain.

  “Your pardon, Healer,” Hado replied. “It was not my intention to return, I assure you.”

  No, he’d just had the bad luck to be on the same ship as me. “Do you know what’s happening?”

  “There are five mercenary vessels currently engaging the ship. Levels one, two and three have been seriously compromised. Secondary command has been transferred to level nine.”

  Five of them firing on us. Three levels rendered useless already. They wouldn’t stop until they got me. Joseph Grey Veil had predicted as much.

  Any planet that gives you sanctuary will be invaded. Any ship you travel on will be targeted. Anyone who helps you will be considered an accomplice and e
liminated. You will be hunted down like an animal until you are apprehended.

  I should have stayed on K-2. Or gotten off the ship as soon as we’d escaped the League. Why had I thought I could outrun them?

  “Healer?”

  I looked down at Hado’s pain-etched face, and cursed. Now was not the time to do this.

  “Hold on.” I braced my feet and took hold of his limp arm. “This is going to hurt.”

  The navigator flinched as I quickly manipulated the joint back in place. I would have hauled him along with me, but he refused.

  “Go, Healer, there are more badly wounded. I will make my way shortly.”

  I got to Medical. There were bloodstained bodies everywhere. Nurses running scans, applying dressings, calling for assistance. The main display politely announced more injured were on the way. And the facility was half-filled with bodies already.

  How many more would be carried in? How much more suffering on my account? I moved forward, and something made me slip. I caught myself before I looked down at the floor. It was slick with something green.

  I froze. Stared at the Jorenian blood on my footgear. It was all over the decking. Everywhere.

  Tonetka hurried past me, her hands inside the chest wound of a big Jorenian male, performing open heart massage. The gurney he was on was being pushed into surgery. “Cherijo. Thank the Mother.”

  Her voice snapped me out of my trance, and I caught up to her. Though she must have seen the horror and shock on my face, Tonetka didn’t mince words. “Adaola has triage. Scrub.”

  I prepped and ran into surgery. The Senior Healer stepped back as I took over for her and continued the cardiac massage. She didn’t wait to observe me, but returned to the ward. By the time the team had their equipment on line around me, the patient’s heart was beating on its own.

  “Initiate sterile field,” I said. My hands were steady— the only part of me that wasn’t trembling. “Get the setup over here.”

  One nurse took position next to me with an instrument tray, while a second went to the other side of the table.

  “Stats,” I demanded, and performed the visual. His chest was a mess. How many crew members would end up like this? On this table? Someone gave me his readings. “Scanner.”

  I passed the instrument over my patient and saw the heart was intact. The two-sided liver Jorenians possessed, however, was in bad shape. If I didn’t get into his chest right away, we were going to lose him. I yanked the charred shreds of his tunic aside.

  “Speaker,” the patient was muttering. “Bring my . . . Speaker.”

  “Put him out!” I said, positioning the lascalpel at the chest wound’s lower edge.

  Incredibly, both nurses stepped back from the table. One bowed her head and started praying out loud. The other shut off the field generator.

  “What are you doing?” Outraged, I looked from one to the other. “Reinstate that field! You, get over here and help me!”

  One obeyed. The other stared at me without comprehension. I couldn’t believe she just stood there.

  “That means you, too!”

  The white eyes widened innocently. “He asks for eternity, Healer.” She actually turned and began to walk out again. “I will get—”

  “Get your ass back over here!” The appalled nurse reluctantly returned to the table. I activated the sterile field myself. “Assist me.” I elbowed the instrument tray toward her. “Clamp!”

  It took some fast, fancy cutting, but I located and stopped the hemorrhaging vessel. All that was left was to put the liver back together as fast as my hands could patch. The next case was wheeled in before I closed.

  “Not yet!” I positioned the lascalpel. Squilyp pulled it from my hand. We looked at each other for a moment. The surgical suite was dead silent.

  A perfect time for him to sneer at me. He’d be more than justified, this time.

  “Go,” he said, stepping up to the table. “I’ll close for you.”

  Astonished, I nodded and stripped off my bloody gloves. Then I turned on the mutinous nurse. She seemed dazed as she looked from me to the patient she had tried to walk out on.

  “You.” I pointed to her, then jabbed my thumb toward the door panel. “Out.”

  She gave me a reproachful frown. “Healer, I meant no disrespect.”

  “You froze up on me,” I said. “I don’t need that in here. Go help with triage.” As she started to hand me some kind of Jorenian philosophical nonsense, I shook my head. “Forget it. Get out.”

  Another series of blasts rocked the ship. Then the main display announced we were going into transition. At once.

  “Hold on!” I shouted to the Omorr, who thrust the laser aside and pinned the patient with his three limbs. I braced myself over mine and felt a sickening drop as the Sunlace bored into another dimension.

  A day later, I was in Tonetka’s office. Neither of the surgical patients who had been on the table during transition showed any ill effects from the dangerous dimensional shift. Nor had any of the other thirty casualties suffered repercussions. That wasn’t what I was pacing back and forth about. The Senior Healer trudged in and gave me a disgruntled frown.

  “I ordered you off duty.” She rounded the desk and dropped into her chair. Her tunic was still splattered with green blood.

  “We need to talk.” I came to a halt in front of her desk. “Five patients died yesterday, Tonetka.” I knew every one of their names. I’d examined each body. Knew I’d never forget their faces.

  “I know.”

  I picked up a chart. Thumped it down in front of her.

  “This one didn’t have to.”

  Tonetka sat back in her chair and sighed before she studied the chart display. “Bola Torin, abdominal injuries, multiple fractures, Speaker requested.” She gazed blandly back at me. “I see no issue here.”

  “Didn’t you hear me? He didn’t have to die. Bola bled to death.” She nodded. I couldn’t believe it. “He bled to death here! In a berth! No one touched him! He was left to die!”

  “He died because he chose to.”

  I reared back. “What?”

  “Bola refused all aid. He requested only his Speaker.”

  “Bola refused—” Confused, I sat down. “The patient refused treatment?”

  “It was his right.” At my blank look, Tonetka explained. “In our culture the path is predetermined solely by the one who travels it.”

  So it was some kind of religious thing. Great. “You’re telling me suicide is okay with you people.”

  The Senior Healer nodded. “It is our custom, Cherijo. Should that decision be to embrace eternity, we cannot bar the path.”

  Religion was one thing, but this man’s life could have easily been saved. “How could Bola be relied upon to make a rational decision? He was in shock!”

  “We do not judge such decisions, Cherijo, we merely respect them.”

  “So you respect an injured man’s desire to bleed to death.” I leaned forward. “Tell me, what other charming customs do you have that I don’t know about? I already know the one about disemboweling an enemy while they’re still alive. Do you ritually sacrifice children to some deity every now and then? Torture someone if they get sick of the color blue?”

  “Of course not.” She sounded exasperated. “Cherijo, why are you so angry?”

  “Five people are dead, Tonetka. Thirty more injured. All because I’m on this ship. I’m not Jorenian, so don’t expect me to sing and dance about it.”

  “You belong to HouseClan Torin, Cherijo,” Tonetka said. “You must respect our customs.” Her voice gentled.

  “You must not hold yourself accountable for this incident, either.”

  I’d hold myself accountable for whatever I damn well felt like. But that wasn’t the issue. “Your custom violates everything I believe in as a physician. We’re trained to provide care and save lives. Whatever it takes.”

  The Senior Healer frowned. “Your Terran philosophies do not nullify one hundred th
ousand years of Jorenian tradition.”

  We’d just see about that. “Tell me something, Tonetka. When I’m Senior Healer, will I have to respect the wishes of these suicidal patients?”

  A flicker of something crossed her face. “You may try to persuade them to embrace life.”

  I recalled the long discussions Tonetka once had with Hado Torin before we performed his surgery. How frantic she had been to keep him from dying. Her reaction to Roelm’s death.

  “You feel the same way I do,” I said. “You try to talk them out of it, don’t you? That’s what you did with Hado.”

  “If I can.” She rubbed her eyes. “Sometimes I do not hear their requests. I am traveled, my tympanic nerves are aged.”

  I stared at the chart. “Except yesterday.” I looked up and through my pain saw her own. “You didn’t know about Bola until it was too late, did you?” She made an eloquent gesture. “The nurses did this. One of them tried to do the same thing in surgery.”

  “Did you prevent her from getting a patient’s Speaker?”

  “Prevent her? I practically decked her!”

  “Then you will be officially reprimanded by me for violating Jorenian custom. Consider it done.” The Senior Healer rose and indicated the door. “Now go to your quarters and get some rest.”

  I left Tonetka’s office, but rest was out of the question. At least until I decided what I was going to do.

  I could stay on the ship, but if the mercenaries had found us once, they’d find us again. My presence directly endangered the crew. I could find a non-League planet, get off the ship, and hide there—but my presence would endanger those people.

  Any planet will be invaded. Any ship will be targeted. Anyone who helps you will be eliminated.

  There was only one choice, after all.

  I spotted Ktarka Torin through the viewer of one of the isolation rooms, and went to see what she was doing. On the berth inside the room was a Terran male.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “One of the mercenaries,” Ktarka replied. “He was attempting to board the ship when the Sunlace transitioned. They found him on level two, unconscious, with minor injuries.”