Escape From Zulaire

by Veronica Scott

  “Let me give him a shot.” Wilson stepped to the bedside, medinject in hand.

  All four monks stopped, staring at the sergeant.

  Hastily, Andi translated for the monks, who didn’t appear to understand Basic.

  One stepped forward while his three companions ranged themselves between Andi and the bed. “What will this do?” asked the one in charge, speaking a Zulairian subdialect.

  Glaring at the monks, Wilson clenched his hand on the butt of his blaster as he addressed Andi in a tense voice. “Are they planning to interfere with me?”

  I hope not. “No, I don’t think so,” she said in a soothing voice. “The monks just want to help, to understand.”

  “Tell them I’m goin’ to stop him from convulsing for a few minutes, so we can get him undressed, sponge him off. We need to reduce the fever.” Lowering his voice, Wilson looked at Andi, worry lines bracketing his mouth. “I flat-out hate the next stage of bhengola, the chills, but he has to pass through them to get over this attack, ma’am. Ask what they can do for bonebreakin’ shivers.”

  Andi and the monk engaged in a rapid discussion, covering what Deverane was suffering from and how the next stage of the disease would be violent convulsions.

  “We’ll bring you a potion within the hour which may be effective.” Bowing, the monk glided unhurriedly from the room.

  Wilson gave his captain the medication while the remaining monks stood in a line by the window and watched. In less than a minute, the drug had taken effect, Andi was relieved to see.

  For the first time in hours, Deverane was relatively quiscient, although he continued to roll his head from side to side, as if seeking escape from the pain. Holding the empty inject, Wilson studied the implement as if it was solid gold. Grimacing, he looked at Andi. “I can’t administer this drug too often during any one attack. Has a powerful effect on the heart. Not good for the liver, either. Ma’am, would you excuse us while we make him a bit more comfortable?”

  She had her argument ready. I’m not leaving Tom’s side tonight. “Look, the monks are speaking a Naranti sub-Clan dialect, and you weren’t hypnotrained in anything but basic Naranti, right?”

  Puzzled, the sergeant shook his head.

  “So I’ll stay, thank you. You need a translator. I’ll just sit in this chair, facing the window, and translate as necessary.” Sinking into the cushions, Andi curled up like a cat. “Well, better get on with making Tom comfortable.” She waved one hand in a small shooing motion.

  Wilson shrugged and turned back to the three monks. “I could probably get by with gestures,” he said defiantly over his shoulder.

  “You were ready to draw your blaster at least twice already since we got here,” Andi reminded him softly. “We can’t afford to offend these people, not if we want their help for Tom.”

  Wilson worked with the monks, unfastening Tom’s clothing. Ands translated as needed while keeping her eyes averted, to soothe the sergeant’s concern for the proprieties. When Wilson gave the all-clear, she left the chair, to see Tom’s limp, unresisting body garbed in loose blue pajamas, topped with a plain brown monk’s robe.

  The monks streamed from the room in single file, almost marching, taking the battered litter with them, as well as the crumpled uniform.

  Making no sound, the last man closed the door behind him.

  “I guess now we wait.” Which is always the hardest thing for me to do. Andi crossed to the bed where Tom lay. Cupping his cheek with her hand, she recoiled in horror. “His skin feels like ice.” She grabbed two of the quilts from the chair and spread them over the captain. “How can the fever change to chills so fast?”

  “Just one of the many terrifying aspects of bhengola. A lot of people never survive their first attack.” Wilson tucked the quilts in further. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked back and forth, face careworn. “He’s been fightin’ this damn thing for five years.”

  “But the disease is winning, isn’t it?” Andi said. “Even as strong and stubborn as he is. Five years is an eternity to battle bhengola. He can’t have much immune-system reserve left to fight it anymore.”

  Fixedly, Wilson stared at the urabu carving on the headboard and made no reply.

  A quick knock heralded the return of their hosts. Opening the door, a monk brought a bowl of clear, steaming liquid to the bedside.

  “That smells too good to be medicine.” Andi sniffed the air appreciatively as he carried the wooden tray bearing the bowl past her.

  Wilson moved to stop the monk from feeding Tom. “Ask him what’s in that mixture, ma’am, would you? And what it’s supposed to do.”

  Andi translated as much as she could of the monk’s response, but some of the details were beyond even her knowledge of the sub-Clan dialect. Eventually, the sergeant sat on the edge of the bed and spooned the stuff into Tom’s mouth himself, while Andi cradled the bowl and the monk kept the captain’s head still on the pillows.

  Heading for the door, the monk took the tray and the empty bowl. “I’ll have one of our brotherhood sit with him while the two of you go and eat some dinner, and perhaps rest.”

  Exchanging wary glances, Andi and Wilson spoke at the same time.

  “I don’t want to leave him—”

  “I think one of us should stay—”

  Andi beat Wilson to the punch. “Go have lunch, sergeant. Take a nap. You carried the litter all night, so you need rest more than me. I can have the monks find you if there’s any change. All right?”

  “What about you? You hiked all night, too, ma’am.”

  I’m not setting foot out of this room right now. She glanced at Tom’s gaunt, trembling form, her heart clenched with worry. And I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. “I’ll get them to bring me a tray. Then I can lounge in this terrific chair, maybe drowse, while I’m keeping an eye on him. Won’t the inject keep him quiet for a few hours?”

  Nodding, Wilson stifled a yawn.

  With an effort, Andi kept herself from yawning as well. “So you’ll need your strength to be rested and ready for duty when that time is up. I can’t manage him in a full-out seizure.”

  “Makes sense.” The sergeant rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “You’ll have them fetch me if there’s any change?”

  “Of course. Go on, we’ll be fine.” Her gaze slid back to Tom, her gut churning with anxiety. Please, Lords of Space, let him be fine. Let him pull through this attack.

  ***

  “Come on, Tom, that’s it; take another sip of this tea for me. You’ll feel better.” For at least the twentieth time over the past few hours, Andi held the cup of herbal tea to the captain’s parched lips. He responded to her voice as he had before, swallowing obediently, although his eyes stayed closed.

  Too tired to walk back to the chair, Andi set the cup on the floor beside her. She sat cross-legged next to the low bed, resting her head on the mattress, using her arms as a pillow. I hope the worst of the crisis is over.

  Studying Tom’s face, lined now with pain, it was hard to believe she’d only met him a few days ago. His body stayed perpetually braced, tense against the bhengola’s assault. He’d seemed uncomfortable with the robe, pulling at it restlessly, so she’d ease the garment off, leaving him clad in the pajamas. Andi massaged his shoulders for a few minutes, working the knots out of the muscles. The man was hard muscle everywhere. A wistful sadness stirring in her heart, she ghosted her fingernail over the sword and comet tattoo on his bicep. Some Special Forces thing, I bet. I’ll have to ask him about it when this is over.

  Sighing, she pulled the covers up over him again. I hope I get that chance.

  Remembering their moonlit conversation at the camp beside the lake, Andi stroked his cheek tenderly, leaning closer to him. “You try to be so uptight and military. Disciplined. But inside you’re one sensitive guy, Tom Deverane. Your parents would be proud of you.” She bathed his forehead and readjusted the quilts to make him more comfortable. Every time she touched him, his muscles v
isibly relaxed, which pleased her and seemed like a good sign.

  As sunset colored the sky outside the mysterious window, someone knocked. Andi opened the door to an anxious Wilson.

  She surveyed him from head to toe. His face seemed more rested, the big shadows under his eyes gone. “Wow, you look like a changed man,” she said approvingly. “A meal and a few hours’ sleep did you wonders.” She leaned on him for a moment, one hand on his shoulder, shaking her foot, which was all tingly and numb. “Did Lysanda and Abukawal get here?”

  “Hours ago. Rahuna woke me to tranquilize her before they could get her across the bridge.” Wilson took Andi’s place at the bedside, reaching to check the captain’s pulse.

  “I’m not surprised to hear that. She’s a total baby about heights. Won’t even take an aircar anywhere,” she said. “I think Rahuna hypnotized me to get me across.”

  “No sign of any pursuit so far, by the way.” Wilson adjusted the quilts over Tom’s shoulders.

  “That’s a relief,” Andi said. “The whole time we were in that village and slogging through the jungle, the back of my neck tingled, like we were being watched. Maybe they just don’t know or care that we got away in one piece?”

  “Maybe. I’m not letting my guard down until we get back to the capital. You shouldn’t either.” Shaking a finger at her, Wilson frowned. “Even this monastery isn’t safe from attack. So he’s been quiet? Is that why you’re in such a good mood, I hope?” The sergeant picked up the little tea pot and shook it, raising his eyebrows. “You got him to drink some of this?”

  Nodding, she yawned. “I think he might marginally improved, yes, though there’s been no change in his temperature. Will I find a guide outside? I need a real bed and sleep.”

  “Monk’s outside waitin’ to escort you.” Wilson stared at the floor, then the ceiling and finally at her. “I want to thank you, ma’am, for all you’ve done to try to help the captain.”

  Andi gave him an impulsive hug, which he awkwardly returned. “He saved my life at least twice, you know. I’ll be back to spell you this evening, after I’ve had some sleep.”

  As she left the room, Wilson started humming one of his endless repertoire of wordless tunes.

  Smiling softly to herself, Andi felt her heart swelling with hope. Maybe Tom’s fought through this bhengola attack after all.

  ***

  To her dismay, when she reported back to the sickroom in the late evening after a refreshing nap, Tom was in the throes of powerful convulsions. The whole bed shook with the force as he thrashed, muttering incomprehensibly.

  “How long has he been like this?” Andi picked the quilts up off the floor and tried to rearrange them over Tom.

  Wiping his brow, Wilson stepped out of her way. “Started about half an hour ago. I knew you’d be coming soon, so I didn’t send the monk to find you.”

  “What can we do?” She tucked the quilt around the captain’s feet again. “He’s going to break a rib or something if this continues.”

  Shouldering her out of the way as another set of convulsions began, the sergeant locked his arms around Tom to keep him from falling onto the floor. “There’s nothing.” Wilson’s voice was flat and final. “I don’t have anything in the medkit to stop this. Quine is the only remedy.” Jaw set, teeth clenched, he struggled with Tom, blocking her attempt to help. “Stay back, ma’am. I can ward off the blows better than you can.”

  Tears burning in her eyes, she bit her lips and looked away from the bed rather than watch Tom go through another series of the torturous convulsions. A hoarse groan from their patient, followed by a sharp curse from Wilson, made her turn back. She wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “No. I won’t give up. Rahuna said the monks could help him, and it’s way past time for them to come up with something better than soup and herbal tea.” Shaking her head, she yanked the door open and issued curt orders in fluent Naranti to the waiting monk. He’d seated himself cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the wall. Jumping up as soon as Andi stuck her head outside the sickroom, the man barely listened to her message before sprinting down the corridor, orange robes flying.

  Tleer and Rahuna, both sleepy-eyed and wrapped in hastily donned clothing, came hurrying into the sickroom a few minutes later. Taking one look at Tom, Rahuna stopped on the threshold, jaw dropping. Tleer ran right into him, putting them both off balance for a moment.

  “Do the monks have anything, anything at all, that could help control these seizures?” Andi asked Rahuna, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him into the room.

  Tleer shook his head, staring at Tom with wide eyes. “We don’t. I’ve never seen such an illness.” Tilting his head, he rubbed his bald pate. “We’ve searched in the histories.”

  Andi swallowed hard. Now is not the time to lose my temper. “Then we need to come up with something, anything.”

  “Ma’am, can you ask them to hold him still for a minute? I need to run a diagnostic.” The sergeant’s request cut across the rapid exchange of Naranti.

  Shaking the entire bed again, Tom suffered through a tremendous convulsion before collapsing bonelessly onto the mattress.

  “Wilson, is he—” Andi flew across the room to the bedside.

  Wilson slumped over, leaning on the headboard, one hand to his eyes. “No, not dead. Not yet. He might have lapsed into a coma.” Straightening, he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath. He went to his pack against the wall under the window, searching through the contents. “Let me do the diagnostic.”

  Andi stood beside the bed, her gaze never leaving Tom’s pain-racked face. Even in the coma state, his forehead bore deep wrinkles, showing the physical torment his body endured. She stroked his arm, wrapping her fingers around his icy hand. A tear trickled down her cheek. Please don’t die. Please don’t leave me. I just found you. I can’t lose you now. “You have to keep fighting,” she whispered.

  Tleer and Rahuna had been conferring near the door. Now His Serene Holiness came to Andi’s side, putting an arm around her shoulder to hug her while she watched Tom.

  Wilson ran his diagnostic scanner, starting at the top of Tom’s head and working down to the toes. He checked the readout and repeated the scan, lingering over the captain’s abdomen. When he finally spoke, Wilson’s voice was tight and a muscle twitched in his cheek. It took him two tries to find his voice. “His kidneys and liver are shuttin’ down. I give him till morning maybe. Less if his heart wasn’t so damn strong.” The sergeant’s voice vibrated with frustration. Now he looked at Andi, moisture glinting in his eyes. “All we can do is make his last hours more comfortable, ma’am. I have the drugs to accomplish that.”

  The room spun around her, a roaring in her ears as the edges of her vision went black. Bringing her hands to the center of her chest, she pressed hard, trying to ease the constriction in her lungs, fighting the tears. Rahuna guided her to the chair by the window, making her sit.

  The cleric knelt beside her, gently smoothing her hair off her face. “How familiar are you with the canon of Sanenre?”

  Lords of Space, I know he means well but… Raising her head, she patted his hand. “Sir, thank you, but this is not the time—”

  “You misunderstand me. There may be something in the traditions of Sanenre that can help him,” Rahuna said. “Something concrete, something as real as the chair you sit on.” He thumped the arm of the chair for emphasis.

  “What—what are you talking about?” Andi shoved her hair back, staring at Rahuna.

  “Sanenre and his people possessed sacred devices with which they performed miracles.”

  “I’ve heard the legends. Are you saying the ancient devices are real? That there’s one here?” Andi gestured at the room around her. Those legends said Sanenre could do just about any kind of miracle. But how can I put my faith in some magical prehistoric contraption?

  Wilson paced over to the chair from the bed, touching Andi’s shoulder to get her attention. “Ma’am, I’m only gettin’ one word in ten here
, since no one’s speaking Basic. What are they talking about?”

  “I don’t know, sergeant. Let me get some more details.” She glanced across at Tom, lying so still and pale. I’m ready to grasp at any straw right now. Andi turned back to Rahuna. “Please, go on, sir.”

  “When the time came for Sanenre to return to the sun’s flames, he left his miracle devices in certain sacred places, such as this monastery.” Rahuna smiled a bit apologetically. “The knowledge is quite closely held within the priesthood, as you can imagine. These devices can be used in cases of dire emergency.”

  “Does this device heal the sick?” Andi swallowed hard. Rahuna nodded, Tleer nodding like a mirror image.

  Shielding her eyes with her hand, she fell back against the chair cushions, a thousand questions hammering at her mind even as her nerves tingled with sudden hope. “Are you offering to let us try to save Tom with Sanenre’s gift?”

  Hands together in a prayerlike gesture, Rahuna inclined his head. “Tleer and I have been reading the sacred texts and casting omens all day. I believe Captain Deverane stands at the center of the work to save Zulaire. The flames of planetary warfare would consume us all no matter which Clan has lit the fuse. Only our little band of travelers knows the truth about the Naranti. I am the only one who can accept the Tablets of Authority from the Obati to sidetrack this Clan war. I’d be lying dead in the ditch right now if your captain hadn’t intervened on my behalf, so it’s my place to save his life in turn. I was hoping it could be done without revealing our secret to you, without invoking the sacred device, but I bow to the will of Sanenre.”

  Oh, thank the Lords. Andi wiped the tear tracks from her face with an impatient backhanded swipe. Leaning around Rahuna, Tleer offered her a square of cloth to blow her nose. The prosaic little gesture made her smile.

  After giving Wilson a rapid translation, she said, “Are you okay with this?” She studied his stern visage. He had to agree to this proposal, or he and his blaster would be an impossible obstacle to anything the Zulairians might do.