Priest and Pariahs

by J. Alan Veerkamp

Priest’s voice was rough. “I know!” He held up his hands to keep Carson at bay, even though he wasn’t advancing. Priest knew he was only doing his job, but he had no wish for medical attention. The only contact he wanted now was hidden behind the medical screen deep inside sick bay.

  “What is all the commotion?” Dr. Bosch strode through the infirmary entrance. “I have patients resting in here.”

  Rolling forward, Priest scrambled to stand, his twisted and disheveled shirt biting the soft skin under his arm. He fell hard to the floor once as he found his footing. A new rush of dread came over him as he tried to order the thoughts racing in his head.

  The doctor took one look at Priest’s rumpled appearance and frowned. The expression was harsher given his visible weariness. “Priest. Do you know what time it is?”

  Priest gave a feeble shake of his head. He felt like a pitiful child past his bedtime. There was as much a chance he’d be scolded and sent to his room, given all the turmoil he was in the middle of, but he couldn’t stand not knowing Arbor’s fate. His mouth started and stopped, the seizure in his chest stalling his words. His eyes filled, making his vision waver. In the end, he could only bring himself to utter one word.

  “Arbor?”

  Dr. Bosch nodded. “He coded twice, but he’s stable for now.”

  A violent rush of air burst free as Priest lurched forward and grasped the doctor in a crushing hug. Relief flooded him as he began laughing, only it sounded much more like wounded sobs to his ears. He held on tight, refusing to let go as Dr. Bosch recovered from the sudden gesture and returned the embrace.

  “Oh, Priest. I had no idea.” Dr. Bosch whispered at Priest's temple, the severity vanishing from his voice. He stroked Priest’s head with a gentle hand. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known I would have commed you sooner.”

  On the edge of hysterics, Priest took a long time to bring himself under control. His bleary eyes stung and his face was streaked by a waterfall of tears. Once he could speak again without humiliating himself further, he pulled away from the doctor. Carson was still there as well, keeping politely quiet.

  “Can I see him?” Priest wiped him eyes but the effort was futile.

  Bosch shook his head. “Not yet. Believe me, it’s for the best. It’s not a pretty sight. You don’t want to see him like this.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Arbor’s stable but there’s still a great deal of danger. I’m keeping him unconscious and in stasis while we regenerate the muscular and skeletal tissues that had to be removed. I saved his eye, but there might be residual effects to the left side of his vision I can’t diagnose at this point. I can’t risk any interference with the bio-field keeping his wounds sterile.”

  Hearing the description raised the bile in Priest’s stomach. A shaky breath rattled into the air. “But he’s going to be okay?”

  “I think so. It’s early yet, but he’s responding well. You need to be patient another week. There was a lot of damage.”

  Arbor should live. The knowledge made Priest want to celebrate and weep. Not sure what to do, he took a step forward only to be caught by Dr. Bosch when his foot lacked the strength to hold him upright.

  “Whoa! You’re looking a little pale. Carson, help me set Priest down inside.”

  “I’ll be okay.” Priest tried to shake off the doctor and nurse to no avail as they ushered him into sick bay and sat him on an empty bed.

  “I’m the doctor, thank you very much. When I start piloting the ship, I’ll be sure to ask your advice. Carson, why don’t you get some rest? I’ll com you if I need you.”

  “You need some sleep, too, Doc.”

  “You can relieve me later. I’d like to talk to Priest privately.”

  Carson nodded. “I’ll be back soon, Doc.”

  It didn’t take the doctor long to note how dehydrated Priest was. Thinking back, he realized he hadn’t eaten or drank anything since before the whole debacle in the engine room. Adding in the stress he was under, it was no surprise why he was so haggard.

  While Dr. Bosch continued to gather a few additional medical tools, Priest looked around. Mac and Sheldon were no longer in sick bay. The medical privacy screen was still up around the first table and the thought of Arbor lying wounded behind it sent a chilled shudder through his bones. Costa lay unmoving in his bed, unconscious to the point of morbid.

  “Is Costa okay?”

  “He’s riding a heavy dose of Calm right now. I’d rather not keep him sedated for the rest of the flight, but the story of what happened has already gotten around the ship and the crew is uncomfortable, to say the least. I can’t monitor his condition in the brig, so I have to keep him here. I also wanted to thank you for the information you passed along. I think it will be a lot of help.”

  Priest winced as Dr. Bosch shined a light back and forth into his eyes one at a time. “Arbor found all of it. I just forwarded it.”

  “Clever man.”

  “Yeah, he is.” He blinked rapidly to restore his vision as his gaze drifted back over to Costa. “Is keeping him doped up helping him?”

  “I didn’t have a choice. He woke earlier and I started asking him questions. Even with the truth compelling effects of the Calm, he gave me nothing. He didn’t lie, but he evaded all the answers.” Dr. Bosch activated a small device against Priest’s shoulder. “This will add vitamins and fluids until you can get a proper meal in you.”

  “Costa’s not exactly a sharing kind of guy. He doesn’t trust doctors either. They’ve treated him pretty shitty in the past. I’ve been trying to get him up here to see you since his supply went low and he was having a hard time coping.”

  The doctor put away his medical tools. “He started to panic and the med-scanners malfunctioned. It looked like he was trying to override them. I activated the stasis field to keep him under control, but his abilities still reached out to commandeer the equipment. There are too many sensitive devices in here and I couldn’t risk another outburst like in the engine room. Arbor’s condition is too fragile. He didn’t give me any choice but to sedate him.”

  “I can’t blame you there.”

  “I need to know how bad his addiction is.”

  Knowing Costa’s grip on his secrets, it felt like a breach of confidence, but Priest had to do what he could. Keeping this information hidden nearly killed them all. The proof was lying in bed, barely alive behind the privacy screen.

  “It’s pretty bad, Doc. It was working less and less each time and he was shaking really bad when he wasn’t using for too long. He was getting lots of headaches and he’d lose control. The Calm let him get a grip on it.”

  “Calm is supposed to suppress his powers.”

  “He told me he was too strong for that to happen and the Calm made it manageable.”

  Dr. Bosch scratched his chin as he paced and pondered. “I don’t have a lot of experience with Calm, but it’s not supposed to cause this kind of dependence. But if he’s using street level drugs, there’s no way to determine how potent or how severe the side effects would be. I’m going to have to synthesize a cleaner version until we can manage his symptoms better.”

  The doctor paused, the circle he trod on the floor no longer important. Stepping over to the monitor closest to Priest, he called up a file showing a wavering image of what looked like the inside of a man’s head. Another panel showed a waveform pattern. It shifted and fluctuated in a way that was almost difficult to look at.

  “You were talking about his headaches. Do you know what this is?”

  “No.”

  “It’s a scan of Mr. McQuillen’s brain. I was trying to understand how his powers work so I could treat him better.”

  Priest couldn’t help but squint at the image. “Why is it out of focus?”

  “That’s what I was wondering. It wouldn’t settle no matter what I did, and I’ve already verified the scanner is calibrated correctly. At first I thought it was just the unique qualities of how his mind deciphers and transmits data. Bu
t now I’m thinking it’s something altogether different.”

  Priest turned to the doctor, who had yet to pry his attention away from the screen. “Like what?”

  “I’d swear it looks like he’s carrying a massive overload of data in his head.”

  Chapter Twelve

  CAREFULLY…CAREFULLY…PRIEST guided the razor down his cheek. It was an unfamiliar task. Normally he kept a heavy five o’clock shadow rather than shave. He prayed he could finish without drawing blood—that would be awkward. An ultraviolet razor would have been more efficient, but the device would also keep the hair from growing back for weeks, and he couldn’t commit to changing his look for so long.

  He stood over the middle of the sink row, a towel cinched around his waist, freshly showered. The lather was cool by the time he was complete, but it was worth it. Priest couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so clean cut. Even his hair was groomed, tidy and neat. He leaned in close to the mirror to check for unexpected blemishes. Nothing worth noting could be seen.

  Back in his quarters, he gathered his clothes, finding the nicest shirt and pants he owned. Newly pressed and laundered this morning, the matching vest made for a smart outfit. His boots were still scuffed, but it would have to do. He didn’t own nice shoes. Hopefully, no one would notice. Once dressed, he fussed and smoothed his clothes multiple times, obsessed with his appearance in a way he’d never been before. Checking his hair one last time, he went out into the hall.

  An anxious excitement had kept his appetite at bay since he woke. Stepping down the corridor, he gave polite nods and tried not to blush at the positive comments other crew members gave him about his appearance. Pulse racing, he paused outside the sick bay doors, encouraging himself to go inside.

  The doors slid open to find Dr. Bosch examining Costa. Both men paused, taking more than a stunned second glance, adding to the nervous charge running down his spine. Dr. Bosch set down his scanner as Priest rocked on his heels, hoping they wouldn’t look at his shoes.

  “Is Arbor awake?” Priest felt like an adolescent asking a father’s permission.

  Dr. Bosch nodded with a pleasant smile. “He’s been asking for you. He’s still healing, so don’t disturb the tech. He’s still weak, so don’t overexcite him.” The doctor’s eyes narrowed and he pointed a finger at Priest. “No funny business.”

  Priest’s vision shook, he nodded so hard in agreement.

  Chest tight, his eyes misted as he approached the privacy screen. It had been over a week of sleepless nights. How many times he had wished and prayed for this moment—and now that it was here, he could barely handle it. The walk across the room took ages, even though it was only a matter of meters. When he brushed his fingers along the edge of the screen, he stopped, took a ragged breath, and entered the enclosure.

  As soon as he caught sight of Priest, Arbor gave him a weak smile. He barely took up half the bed, the sheets tucked up to his chest. Several pieces of medical tech were attached to his body: two small pieces to the side of his face and three larger items to his shoulder and chest.

  He looked tired but well. Dr. Bosch had done an amazing job. The only oddity was from the crown of his head down his face and chest. A five-centimeter-wide line of skin was a different shade, fresher than the rest. Unblemished and new, the areas crossing his jaw and reaching above his hairline were free of stubble.

  Priest’s voice shook even with one small word. “Hi.”

  “Hi, yourself.” Even as frail as he was, Arbor beamed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better now that you’re here.”

  A wave of relief battled the fear seizing his chest. “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  Priest’s shaky grin fought against a week’s worth of uncertainty and dread. Even with Arbor’s acceptance, doubt tainted his thoughts. He edged closer to the bed, his hand hovering over the newly healed areas, the skin having a sheen like a newborn’s.

  “Does it hurt?”

  Arbor gave a minimal shrug. “Some, but not too bad. Bosch is taking good care of me. My vision’s a little fuzzy on the left side, but he said that’s to be expected.”

  “I would have been here more, but he told me not to.”

  Arbor reached over and twined his unsteady fingers with Priest’s. “It’s okay. He told me I was kind of a mess. I wasn’t even conscious until this morning. No one would have wanted to see me.”

  “I wanted to.” Priest fixated on Arbor’s hand in his own, the warmth making his tenuous self-control ready to fracture. He told himself he would be strong.

  “You’re here now. That’s good enough.” Arbor’s weary eyes still twinkled as they scanned over Priest. “You look really good. Did you dress up just for me?”

  Priest flushed as he barked aloud, an equal mix of whimper and laugh. “Yeah. I did.”

  “I’m going to be okay, Priest.”

  “I know.” Tears streaked down Priest’s face against his best efforts. “But I was so scared. I haven’t stopped seeing the whole thing in my head since it happened. I haven’t stopped being scared you wouldn’t make it. I don’t know what I would have done.”

  “You’d have moved on.”

  Priest hissed as he choked down a sob. “I don’t think so. I need you, Arbor. Please don’t leave me.”

  “I promise, Priest. I won’t.” Arbor’s eyes glossed as he shifted himself to one side and patted the bed. “Get up here.”

  Priest shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You won’t.”

  With a quick scan to make sure no one was watching, Priest sniffled as he carefully climbed in alongside Arbor, making sure to stay above the covers. Arbor rolled closer and feathered a kiss onto Priest’s lips. The touch was so sweet and affirming, it took all of Priest’s will not to give in and make it something more than Arbor was ready for. Being sure not to disturb any of the medical devices, he wrapped himself around his man. Priest couldn’t look into his eyes, so he buried his face into Arbor’s shoulder.

  Priest's words were whispers between staggered breaths. “I fucked up so much, and thought I had all the time in the world to make it up. I almost didn’t get the chance.”

  Arbor pressed his lips above Priest’s temple. “I made mistakes too. It’s not all your fault.”

  Buried in the embrace, Priest broke down, endless days of despair spilling out over Arbor’s chest and shoulder. And through it all, even with his feeble strength, Arbor held him tight and murmured along his head how everything would be all right. He continued until Priest began to believe it.

  Sometime later, Priest calmed down, but refused to let go of Arbor. Now that he had him, Priest wasn’t willing to give him up. He’d waited long enough for his touch. Nuzzling into Arbor, Priest felt something like himself again. There was a good chance his world would be so much better now.

  Arbor’s voice teased as he ran his fingers curled through Priest’s hair. “Does this mean you love me?”

  “Let’s not go getting crazy now.”

  Both men burst out laughing. Priest snuggled closer, his head nestled against Arbor’s chest. He traced lazy circles on Arbor’s skin with his fingers as he whispered without raising his head. “I do, you know.”

  A soft kiss brushed the top of Priest’s head. “I know. Me too.”

  Lost in bliss within a hospital bed, Priest’s eyes drifted closed. The sound of Arbor’s gentle breathing lulled him down into the first restful sleep in days.

  A MILD TAPPING brought Priest out of his slumber.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Danverse's knuckle posed on the frame of the privacy screen.

  Arbor shook his head. “No, Captain.”

  Danverse rounded the screen, his once-proud shoulders lacking their usual power. Normally commanding, he approached with caution. Barely able to look Arbor in the eye, Danverse nodded to both men.

  Priest shifted and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “How long have I been asleep?
”

  “A few hours. It’s been really nice.”

  Those words made Danverse’s presence unwelcome. These first moments of true peace he’d shared after all the chaos were interrupted. Was it too much to ask to lie quietly, curled up with the feel of Arbor in his arms? There had been enough animosity brewing amid the terror for the last week. Priest could do without the reminder of how Arbor ended up in sick bay in the first place.

  “Bosch told me you were awake and I wanted to see how you were doing.”

  “I’m doing all right.” Arbor squeezed Priest’s hand and kissed his forehead. “Better than all right.”

  “I found this on my doorstep. I believe it belongs to you.” In the captain’s outstretched hand sat Mr. Wiggles, in no worse condition than when he first disappeared from Arbor’s quarters. Danverse handed the sock monkey to Arbor, whose eyes came alive as the broad grin split his face.

  Arbor pulled Mr. Wiggles close and inhaled deeply. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “I can’t take any credit. Priest put out the ship-wide com days ago, telling the crew how you saved us all, and asking that your property be returned. All I did was bring him here. And Mac told me to give you this.” Danverse pulled Arbor’s private handheld from his pocket and passed it over. The screen was flawless and no one would know any damage had occurred. “It’s all repaired and ready to go.”

  The return of Arbor's stuff was good and all, but Priest was still waiting for an apology. “It hardly makes up for what happened.”

  “Priest!”

  Danverse held up his hand, a sad weariness evident in his eyes. “No, Arbor, Priest’s right. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You saved us all and this is how I said thank you.”

  “It was an accident—”

  “That never should have happened.” Priest wanted Danverse to know, he hadn't forgiven. Not yet.

  Arbor opened his mouth to speak, but Danverse, slumping his posture and ducking his head stopped him. Even Priest was taken aback by the gesture. Danverse willingly submitted to no one.

  “He’s right.” Danverse scrubbed his large hand through his tight, dirty-blond hair. “Mac could have died and it was happening in front of me and there wasn’t anything I could do to save him. It made me a little psychotic. My boy’s everything to me and I almost lost him. I’d do anything for him.”