Change Horizons: Three Novellas

by Gun Brooke

  “I am, ma’am,” Vollenby stated from behind. “Why don’t you let me take that backpack from you while you triage? I’ll put it in your habitat once we have them up and secured.”

  “Good thinking.” Gemma pulled her emergency triage pack from the larger backpack. Motioning for the medically trained to approach her, she spoke grimly. “We will still work like we planned, according to the alpha-grid scenario. But now each part of the grid is three times as big, with more potential patients in each. Any questions?”

  Nobody spoke up.

  “If you come upon cases that need surgical attention or where life is clearly hanging in the balance, break the grid and bring them to the first habitat that Vollenby puts up. Notify me immediately.”

  A mumbled chorus of “yes, ma’am” met her and she nodded shortly. “All right, let’s move out, people.”

  Gemma walked along the perimeter, noting that the four marines in charge of security were carrying out their assignment with well-practiced efficiency.

  The first people in her grid, a mother and her three teenage children, sat huddled under blankets. Gemma introduced herself in Premoni, which the oldest child spoke fluently.

  “Mother has not been able to keep anything down in more than three days, Doctor,” the thin girl said. She wore her hair in two long white-blond braids, and her clothes hung on her slight frame. “My little brother is doing a little better, but mother is so weak she can hardly talk.”

  “Let me check her out, please.” Gemma ran her medical scanner along the woman, who was shivering among the tattered blankets. Dehydration seemed to be the biggest problem at the moment. “Tell your mother I’m going to inject her with a rehydration agent that will hold her over until supplies get here.”

  The young girl spoke to her mother in Gantharian before Gemma pushed the imbulizer to her neck. The affected woman flinched as the medication hissed through her skin.

  “It should take effect in minutes. I’m leaving this note for the next medical staff that checks on you, in case it’s not me.” Gemma didn’t say that she was likely to forget the details about each patient, even if she was the one taking care of the little family next time.

  After fifteen consultations, she began to see a pattern. Meeting with Ciel for a few minutes, she voiced her concern. “This isn’t a mere stomach infection.”

  “What makes you think that?” Ciel looked around. “The symptoms fit.”

  “Yes, but when I scan them, I see no parasites, no signs of a virus or any bacteria.”

  Ciel frowned. “Maybe the SC scanners don’t know how to pick up indigenous Gantharian germs?”

  “That could well be true, but they don’t even pick up any unknown germs.” Gemma ran her fingers through her hair. “They should’ve detected something by now. Let me finish the rest of my grid and we’ll regroup and compare notes.”

  “All right.” Ciel turned to leave, but hesitated. “Several people told me about a smaller group hiding among the line of caves over there.” She pointed due west. “Some called them traitors. Others seemed genuinely concerned about them.”

  Gemma looked toward the cave openings. “You and I can check that out once we complete triaging our grids.”

  Ciel nodded. “Fine. Back to work.”

  Gemma kept collecting information and treating dehydrated patients, and soon the families were all a blur as they all manifested the same symptoms. The last patients in her part of the grid turned out to be four unsupervised children. A young boy spoke some Premoni, but he was so ill he could only whisper. Gemma asked him his name, how long they’d been ill, when they ate and drank last, and if they were in any pain.

  “I’m Naqq,” the boy said weakly. “These are my friends. We…we’re sick, Doctor.”

  “I can see that,” Gemma said kindly. She ran her scanner and then stared at the readings, hardly able to fathom what she saw. “Naqq, I’m going to help you feel better.” She explained about the imbulizer, but still the youngest child, a little boy, maybe four years old, started sobbing, a terrible dry, heaving sound. Knowing this meant the child was so severely dehydrated that he had no tears, Gemma merely scooped him up. “Can the rest of you walk a little bit?”

  The way the children helped each other as Gemma carried the trembling child toward the camp made her swallow unexpected tears. She felt a hand hold on to her harness, and she slowed her steps to not lose any of the older children.

  *

  Ciel pocketed the scanner and walked to meet Gemma and the others. She hadn’t come upon any deathly ill patients in her part of the grid, but she had seen from a distance how some of the others had moved people on stretchers. When she saw Gemma carrying a small bundle, followed by what had to be young children, she started running.

  “Here. Let me.” Catching up with Gemma, Ciel reached for the small child.

  Gemma handed her burden over and then ran her scanner again. “Damn. He’s hardly breathing. We have to hurry!”

  Ciel didn’t wait. She rushed along the narrow path, dodging branches and bushes as she ran. The little body wrapped in a blanket was so still, she feared they were too late. The first habitat was ready to receive patients and Ciel hurried inside, placing the child on the closest examination table. She peeled back the blanket just as Gemma practically fell through the door.

  “Set an IV, push neutral fluids,” Gemma barked at a nurse. “If I’m right, he’s going to need something for the pain. Something that doesn’t overwhelm his system.”

  “Something from nature,” Ciel said, and pounced on her backpack sitting next to Gemma’s inside the door. “I have an extract that can be mixed with IV fluids. It’s mild and very close to the endorphins the humanoid body makes.”

  Gemma frowned for a second, but then nodded decisively. “Very well. Get it ready.”

  “Why do you think he’s in pain? I mean, this kind of pain?” Ciel asked as she prepared the solution. “Nobody else has spoken of any bad pain in my part of the grid.”

  “If my suspicions are correct, it’s just a matter of time. The child is worse off, thus with more advanced symptoms.” Gemma’s eyes were darkened by what looked like total fury. That wasn’t good.

  “Run a full workup on this child. The others too,” Gemma said, and pointed at the other three children that sat in the corner.

  Ciel guessed they were too weak to remain standing. Another nurse helped them sit on an examination table and began carrying out Gemma’s orders.

  “Ciel, you may as well prepare this concoction of yours for the other three too. They’ll be as bad off as this little guy soon.”

  She had often seen Gemma annoyed and irritated, but never this furious. Her lips a fine line and her dark eyes burning with a fire dangerous for the target of her wrath, Gemma still handled the children patients with tender hands and spoke to them in a voice like a soft caress.

  Once the four young ones were settled together on two cots, which worked well since they were clinging to each other, Ciel pulled Gemma aside. “Tell me.”

  “They…at first I was uncertain, thinking it was just my suspicious mind that was seeing ghosts. Then I found the kids and remembered how many times I’ve been right over the years.” Gemma leaned against a stack of crates, running a hand over her face as if wiping something foul from her skin. “They’ve been gradually poisoned. I think they all have.”

  Ciel’s mouth fell open for a few moments. “Poisoned? H’rea dea’savh…” Her voice only a whisper, she wondered why she was so shocked. The Onotharians had committed such atrocities that poisoning prisoners was hardly surprising.

  “And these are children.” Gemma’s chin trembled, but then she clenched her jaws.

  “Children who grow up to become resistance fighters.” Ciel spoke hollowly. “It makes sense. In some horrible, inhumane way, it makes sense.”

  “Given that the leaders of Onotharat are callous, greedy monsters, I guess so.” Gemma touched Ciel’s arm briefly. “I’m sorry. These are your p
eople.”

  “Yes, they are.” A sudden sound from outside, a large thud, followed by more, made her flinch. “What was that?”

  “I’m hoping it’s the supplies. Let’s hope they got the correct coordinates so they don’t kill anyone. I swear those flyboys and girls sometimes…” Gemma rushed outside with Ciel right behind. “Oh, good.”

  The field to the west of the camp now became the target area for the high-altitude drops. The parcels landed with soft thuds after silk parachutes opened up, saving the contents from being crushed. Tacrosty stood just outside the perimeter, speaking into his communicator. Ciel heard him ask the person at the other end to repeat several times.

  “Guess the interference isn’t making communication very easy.”

  Tacrosty waved to them, indicating it was safe to approach. “That’s the last of the first shipment, Commander. We’ll gather it and start handing out supplies to the refugees.”

  “Good. Dr. O’Diarda and I will take two of your marine medics and head to the caves. We don’t know how many are over there hiding, but two should be enough. While I’m away, you’re in charge.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Tacrosty frowned. “Only two marines? I—”

  “Two is enough. Thank you. I’ll just report over to the medical staff and then we’ll head out.”

  Chapter Ten

  The sun shone through the clouds, making the air unbearably humid as they made their way to the caves. Seen from the camp, it didn’t look that far, but with the difficult terrain and winding paths, it still took them more than an hour to get there.

  Ciel adjusted her backpack and kept an eye on Gemma, whose limp became increasingly obvious. Gemma had to be in pain, but she respected that she didn’t offer any explanation or complain.

  “Ma’am,” the marine who had taken point said quietly. “Movement up ahead. Two o’clock.” He raised his weapon and, looking back, Ciel saw the other marine do the same.

  Gemma raised her binoculars and gazed up at the dark openings in the bedrock. “I count four humanoids moving around on the outside. They are walking very slowly. Wobbling. I’d say they’re showing symptoms of illness or severe fatigue.”

  “Let’s make sure, Dr. Meyer,” the first marine said. “There’s probably a very good reason for these people to stay secluded.”

  Ciel agreed with the marine, but she doubted that anything or anyone among the people in the caves was of danger to Gemma and her rescue team.

  “Let’s move in with caution, but we need to hurry. If these people are as bad off as some of the ones over by the pass, they need help now.”

  The marines nodded solemnly in unison, and they all kept hiking toward the caves. Ciel made sure she walked close to Gemma, as she kept stumbling over the roots and rocks in her way.

  “Your leg’s bothering you,” Ciel said in a low voice, making sure their security detail didn’t overhear.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t even try. I’m not visually impaired. You’re stumbling, you’re limping, and you make strange faces.”

  “I do not. And besides, I’m not the one who needs attention.” Gemma looked annoyed. The small crease in her skin between her eyes grew deeper.

  “No, you’re not. Not yet. I want you to chew on a few leaves as we approach the cave dwellers.” Ciel pulled out the herbs she’d picked while passing them, immediately recognizing their anti-inflammatory qualities. “I’ve rolled them into packs. Chew them until they liquefy in your mouth. Spit those out and chew one more. I have more for later if you need them.”

  Gemma glowered at the small green bundles in Ciel’s hand. “You’re not joking, are you?” Eyeing the first little roll suspiciously, she then popped it into her mouth and began chewing as they hurried to keep up with the marines. “At least it tastes all right.”

  Ciel merely smiled, knowing full well that these particular leaves were tasty.

  A female voice called out in Gantharian. “Soldiers. Go back, go back!”

  “Ciel!” Gemma pulled at her. “Tell them we’re here to help.”

  “Listen to me. I’m Ciel O’Diarda, druid and Gantharian. My comrades here are from the Supreme Constellation. We’re here to help you. So are the SC soldiers. The weapons are only for our protection, so unless you attack us, you have nothing to fear.”

  “Collaborator!” The woman, a very young, dark-skinned girl, stood before the others, her arms full of firewood. “We have sick people here. We’re in no shape to fight anyone. Just leave us alone!”

  “We can’t do that.” Ciel forced herself to sound calm and reassuring. “Please, let us closer. We have reason to believe that you’ve been poisoned while in the hands of the Onotharians.”

  “Why would you think that? And why would the Onotharians poison us? We’re of their blood. We’re Onotharians too.”

  Gemma had clearly been able to follow the gist of the conversation. “All the more reason, if they were incarcerated for being Gantharians at heart.”

  Ciel repeated what Gemma had just said. “We mean you no harm.”

  “Let us help you.” Gemma spoke Gantharian with a thick accent, but it wasn’t hard to understand her. “Listen. One of my friends is Boyoda, a code name for the resistance leader who now also is known as Andreia M’Aldovar. You might know that she’s Onotharian by birth also.”

  The young woman dropped the wood and began to stagger sideways. Ciel didn’t think. She simply hurried forward and caught the girl in her arms before she hit the uneven ground. “Gemma!”

  “I’m here. Let me scan her.” Ciel held on to the emaciated woman as Gemma ran the scanner all over her body.

  “She’s dehydrated, her fever is more than 40 degrees Celsius, and she’s jaundiced.”

  “Her liver is impaired.”

  “That’d be my estimate also.”

  “Raviciera!” A pale woman, equally thin, stumbled out of the closest cave. “Get away from her.” She sank to her knees in spite of the sharp rocks. “What did you do to my child?”

  “The Onotharians running the camp poisoned all of you over a period of time. Gantharian and Onotharian prisoners alike. We have medication, food, and shelter set up down at the pass. How many of you are here in the caves, and can you walk?”

  The woman gazed back and forth between Ciel and Gemma. “You…you’re not here to take us back?”

  “Not at all,” Gemma said. “We’re here to assist with the medical emergency and to help you reach your home.”

  “Oh.” The woman still looked hesitant, but at least she wasn’t trembling in full-blown panic anymore. “I’m Pomaera. This is my daughter, Raviciera.”

  “I think the shock of seeing our soldiers was simply too much for her,” Gemma said, sounding reassuring. “She fainted. I’ll infuse her with a stimulant with enough of a boost to keep her ambulatory during the time it takes us to go back down to the pass. So, how many of you are up here?”

  “Sixteen. We’re all Onotharian by birth, but they define us as naturalized Gantharians. This is our home planet. We were all born and raised here.”

  “Anyone too ill to stand?”

  “Perhaps old Jemo. Everyone else…they’re sick, but not to such a degree that they can’t move. I warn you, it’ll be slow.”

  “Slow is fine as long as we get you down to the shelters. We have portable habitats, which will be much more comfortable for you than these caves.”

  Pomaera blinked rapidly and wiped her suddenly misty eyes on her sleeve. Raviciera looked up at her mother, clearly reassured that these strangers might not be bad news after all.

  The cave closest to them was inhabited mainly by younger people, most of them looking weak rather than ill. Ciel helped Gemma administer a filter-drug that would help them fight off the poison fed to them over time. Ciel also provided them with different strengthening herbal solutions.

  The marines constructed a stretcher made of two young trees interwoven with long leaves. They placed the fragile old man on it after Gemm
a and Ciel both had tended to him. Appalled at his oozing wounds and the state the thin man was in, Ciel asked if any of the refugees were strong enough to help with the stretcher.

  A tall man limped forward. His left arm was in a sling, but he grabbed hold of one of the young trees and stood there, proud, if a bit shaky.

  “Thank you.” Ciel grabbed the tree opposite the man. “What’s your name?”

  “Camol.” He chewed his lower lip for a moment and then spoke with a tremulous voice. “I don’t suppose you’ve come across more refugees from Teroshem? A large group left together a few weeks ago.”

  “Yes. We did. They came through Rihoa while we happened to be there to evaluate the clinic. It became a very different humanitarian effort instead.”

  Camol walked a few paces in silence, his face pensive and so pale, his lips and earlobes looked amber in the setting sunlight. “I know you must’ve seen a lot of people during the last few days, but I have to ask anyway. You didn’t happen to come across a young pregnant woman. Gantharian. Her name is Tammas?”

  Ciel looked up hastily. Gemma was walking right behind them, supporting an elderly woman who looked almost as bad off as the poor man on the stretcher. “Tammas? Tammas O’Mea of Emres?”

  Camol gasped, nearly losing his grip on the stretcher. “She’s all right? Oh, please tell me she’s all right.”

  “Last I saw Tammas and Ilias, her little boy, he was doing much better. They were being airlifted to—”

  “Little boy?” Camol looked like his knees were giving in. Furious at herself for speaking without thinking first, Ciel called out for the marines to stop.

  “She had the baby? I’ve been in this godforsaken place so long, I’ve lost track of the days…weeks.” Camol ran his uninjured hand over his face. “A boy. A son. And she named him Ilias, after my father.” He sobbed quietly and wiped at his tears. Then it was as if he became aware of his surroundings. “A boy? A son.” He gripped the stretcher harder and seemed energized. “Tammas,” he murmured. “Ilias.”