Stardoc

by S. L. Viehl

  Thank God for large, smart spiders, I thought, as we hurried through the facility and sealed ourselves in the containment area.

  “Pilot Dhreen makes the third case of unidentified contagion within specified limits according to the Charter,” I told Dloh via display as I stripped down. “I’m calling this one. Inform Dr. Mayer and the staff. I want Colonial Administration notified now.”

  “It will be done,” Dloh said.

  I began to set up the surgical tray, and was half finished when I found Ecla’s capable appendages removing the instruments from my hands.

  “Sterilize,” she told me as she continued the outlay. At my dazed stare, she undulated modestly. “I volunteered.”

  “You’re risking your life!” I said, knowing it was futile anyway.

  She gave me a stern look. “I’ve already been exposed. You know it, I know it.”

  Ecla prepped Dhreen as I scrubbed. His legs were badly broken, the jagged edges of bone piercing through the flesh. I counted a dozen deep gashes and twice as many abrasions. I’d never operated on a friend before. I gloved and pulled my mask up, blinking back the tears.

  “Please help me,” I said. No, that wasn’t right. Dhreen would have laughed at me, begging some omnipotent power to intervene. I got angry, thinking about it. God owed me. “If you let him die on my table,” I told the ceiling in a clear voice, “I’ll get even.”

  Ecla laughed out loud. “You would, too.”

  “Okay. Now that I’ve taken care of that,” I said, and checked the calibration of the lascalpel, “where are we at, Flower Face?”

  “He’s ready, Doctor. Vitals are stable as can be expected.”

  “I want to intubate him first. Set up the ventilation system.”

  Once we had him on the respirator, I performed a comprehensive scan series. His internal organs were intact, but there were definite signs of advanced pneumonia in what passed for his lungs.

  “Remove the artery plug.” Ecla extracted the site dressing, while I rapidly repaired the torn vessel and closed the thigh. It took an hour to deal with the compound fractures, one by one. All that was left after that was to stitch up the thankfully minor head wound.

  On my last scan, I found his primary cardiac organ (what performed some of the lung and all the circulatory functions in his species) displayed the now-familiar inflammation.

  “Dilated cardiopulmomyopathy.” I yanked off my mask and gloves in disgust. “It’s already migrating.”

  His vitals remained stable, if weak, and a syntransfusion replaced the blood lost in the accident. If his condition degraded much further, none of that would help. I watched as Ecla dealt with the last of the minor gashes.

  “Good work. Bring him out of it slowly.”

  My nurse weaned Dhreen off the anesthetic. I leaned over him and called his name, and watched those guileless eyes flutter open. They were dulled from drugs, pain, and the shock of the accident, but he recognized me and tried to grin.

  “Dhreen. I have a tube in your throat that is helping you breathe. Don’t fight it, let the machine do the work.” He blinked and gave a weak nod. “Good. Now, rest. You’re going to be fine.”

  I wondered if he would forgive me for lying to him.

  Dr. Dloh worked fast to carry out my orders. Too fast, Ecla told me later. He bypassed the chief of staff and went right to Colonial Administration, who in turn went to the Council. People weren’t just unhappy, they were getting seriously disturbed. I responded to a brief series of inquiries from Colonial Security and HQ Administration via display. I didn’t bother to mince words, either. A short time later I saw my boss enter the Isolation ward.

  “The moment of truth,” I said to mu Cheft, who like me was isolated with the infected patients. “Keep an eye on Dhreen for me, will you?” I went to the display panel and waited for Mayer to chew me out.

  “You’re injured,” he said at once.

  I remembered my hasty bandage, still wrapped around my head, and touched it. “Nothing serious, just a bad scratch.” I squared my shoulders. “I understand Dr. Dloh didn’t make your office his first stop.”

  “He did not.”

  We exchanged a long, measuring look.

  “I know your position on this situation, and I’m sorry you weren’t informed first. The fact remains, I’d be guilty of gross negligence if I hadn’t taken immediate action.”

  “Dr. Dloh can make his apologies later.” The chief didn’t look too concerned. “How is the pilot?”

  “Dhreen’s stable, for now. It doesn’t look good in his case. What he has for a heart is involved.”

  “The others?”

  “Three of my evac team members show initial signs of pneumonic infection. Pilot Torin is in deep coma. Dr. mu Cheft has him on close monitor.” Behind me, I heard the physician smother a cough. My gaze was steady. “Daranthura also appears to be infected.”

  “You and Ecla?”

  “Still no symptoms.”

  “Yet the incubation rate has evidently decreased,” he said. I nodded. “We must determine if you and Ecla are immune, or carriers.”

  “By deliberate exposure?” I swept my arm back toward the occupied beds behind me. “There are too many cases to deal with now. Besides, who’d be crazy enough to—” Behind Dr. Mayer, I saw the silent, black-garbed form of the chief linguist appear. “No. No.”

  “He volunteered,” Mayer said.

  “He isn’t a viable test subject. He may already be infected. Or immune.”

  “He shows no evidence of contagion. The first cases displayed signs of infection within twenty-four hours of exposure.”

  “Isolate him and give it more time.”

  “If you and Ecla prove to be immune, we’ll need that time to determine why and develop an inoculant.”

  I shook my head. “This is crazy. We don’t even know how it’s being transmitted!” Dr. Mayer’s expression didn’t change. “Fine. Go ahead and quarantine the idiot with Ecla. I won’t be responsible for—”

  “Ecla is Psyoran, her physiology is completely different,” the chief said. “Logically, the ideal choice is to isolate the chief linguist with you.” Before I could tell him my opinion of his stupid idea, Mayer stepped aside and allowed Reever access to the panel.

  His face was as blank as ever. “Doctor.”

  “Chief Linguist.” If I argued with Reever, I’d get less response than I had from Mayer. I turned around and walked from the panel. “Let’s get it over with.”

  In order to expose Reever without placing the rest of the facility at risk, we were to be secluded together. It was not my idea of the perfect date. I suited up and was taken to the isolation room, where Reever waited for me. Orderlies then activated the quarantine seals outside the chamber.

  “How long did Mayer say we had to stay in here?” I asked as I removed the suit.

  “Twelve hours.”

  Wonderful, I thought. Half a rotation stuck in an airtight, soundproof room with Mr. Personality. Maybe I could take a nap. I stowed the containment gear and turned back to him. “So, why did you—” Reever was staring at me so intensely that I stopped in mid-sentence and gazed down at myself. My tunic was still damp and stained with Dhreen’s blood, but that was all. “What?”

  He nodded toward my head. “You have injured yourself.”

  “Oh. That.” I touched the stiff bandage. “A parting gift from the Bestshot.” Adrenaline and preoccupation had kept the brunt of the pain at bay. Now I felt it begin to throb in earnest.

  “I was informed of the incident,” Reever said. His voice sounded odd, deeper and slower than usual. Maybe he was already getting sick. “What is Dhreen’s condition?”

  “Not good. Worse than mine.” I tugged at the dressing and winced as the dried blood made it cling to my wound. “Ouch, maybe not.”

  “I’ll assist you.” He indicated the exam pad. Dr. Reever? I didn’t think so. At my obvious reluctance, he added, “Please.”

  While I climbed up on the table,
Reever located a container of sterile saline. He used it to saturate the bandage, then eased the soaked dressing from my head. As he cleaned the gash with a fresh pad, I tried to sit still. I didn’t like him touching me, but there was no way to avoid it.

  “Tell me the truth,” I said. “Will I live?”

  He studied the wound for a moment. “It may need sutures.”

  My humor abruptly disappeared. “You’re not pointing a laser at my head, Reever.”

  “Perhaps a clean pressure dressing will suffice until we are finished.”

  I didn’t like the way he said finished, or the way he was still staring at my head. Something was very wrong with him today. I glanced around to see if there was a scanner handy. That was when Reever grabbed me.

  “Let—” I gasped as he pressed his open mouth to the wound, laving his tongue over it. Repelled, I jerked my head back. “Reever! What the hell are you doing?”

  His hands tightened on my shoulders, trying to force me back. “Do not fight me.”

  I knocked his hands away and squirmed off the exam pad, putting it between us. “No, Reever.” What the hell was going on here? He looked like he was ready to tear me to pieces. I retreated a few steps. “Stay back.”

  “You must yield.”

  He reached across the platform, and I dodged to one side. I couldn’t keep this up for long. The communications console was my only hope. I had to get to it and signal for help.

  “Don’t you touch me.”

  “Touch is not required,” Reever said, and lunged.

  I barely avoided his hands. “I don’t want you to. Got it?” I was unnerved but sure he wouldn’t assault me. Sure until I saw his face change. Muscles twitched and bulged. His eyes grew darker, filled with something like rage or pain. His teeth clicked together as he went still. An instant later his face cleared, and he started after me again.

  “Stay away,” I said, retreating backward as he advanced. We danced around the room like that for several minutes. He never let me get within a foot of the console. I made a last, frantic attempt to get around him. Strong hands grabbed me and flung me back against a wall. Now I was panting, frantic, struggling beneath him without success. “No!”

  My breath was pushed out of my lungs as he pressed his body over mine. I couldn’t free myself, and knowing that terrified me. His scarred hands encircled my upper arms, while his body weight kept me immobilized.

  I wasn’t going to let him see how scared I was. “Back off.”

  “No.” I whipped my head sideways to avoid his mouth touching mine, and felt him slide it across my cheek. The edge of his teeth scraped my skin as he said, “You want this. We know.”

  I fought to hurt the bastard then. Reever countered every move and relocated his grip to my wrists. Slowly he worked my arms up, holding them above my head out of the way. One hard knee thrust between my thighs as he leaned in, crushing me into the unyielding surface of the wall. I could feel his heartbeat hammering against my breast.

  Inexplicably he said, “Humans require rituals of touch before they mate.”

  Humans? What did he think he was? “How fascinating,” I choked before a short cry of rage tore from my throat. The top of his thigh was sliding back and forth between mine, deliberate and slow. “Stop it!”

  “Your needs can be assuaged.”

  He was really going to do it, I thought. He was going to rape me. I twisted under him. “You can’t—”

  “Yield.”

  “I’d rather die.” I couldn’t allow this to happen. “Why, Reever? Why me? Why this way?”

  His voice was low and rough. “Necessary.”

  “So is consent!”

  “No choice,” he said as he put his mouth against my ear. The tip of his tongue thrust in, sending a spasm of unwelcome sensation through me. “Link now.”

  The violence repelled me, but everything else was having quite an opposite effect, and it showed. My breathing was shallow and rapid. Chaotic nerves were creating acute sensitivity all over my skin. A heavy flush burned my cheeks and throat. I was beginning to feel an aching emptiness between my thighs, where he was still rubbing against me. I’d never been more disgusted with myself, but there was nothing I could do. We were both young, healthy specimens. I had to try something else, quickly, before he used my physical response against me.

  “Is this the only way you can get a woman, Reever?” I said. “Psychic rape?”

  “No rape,” he said. The manner in which his speech had altered and the taut agony in his face frightened me more than any of his actions.

  “Then, what in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”

  “Seducing you.”

  We were linked before I could take a breath, and Reever was inside and outside of me then. I was physically paralyzed again. I felt him enter my mind with undiluted fury, exploding through the barriers I couldn’t keep up.

  I was waiting for him. Come on, Reever. Come and get me.

  Reality sifted into the link, and I felt his physical hands stripping me with precise efficiency, hauling me off my feet, placing me on the exam pad. At the same time we circled each other inside my head, linked but unblended.

  Within I saw the white light again, the dazzling nimbus containing a newer, darker nucleus. That was more menacing than the hands divesting me of my clothes. I’d never sensed that virulent aspect before. Whatever it was, it made my skin crawl.

  Must do this. Cherijo. Must.

  Why?

  Inside, must get inside you.

  On the other side he was removing his own garments. He had an athlete’s physique, streamlined, with wide shoulders and compact musculature. I didn’t want to know how he looked naked.

  You can’t, Reever. Don’t do this.

  He slid over me, and the sensation of our bare skins clashing penetrated the link like a slap. Nerves began to shriek, pulses raced, and I felt my body spiral out of control.

  Cherijo. Surrender.

  I drew on every shred of will I had left. Get out of my head!

  As you wish.

  He was gone, and I was suddenly alone under an aroused, naked male. Although I’d regained control of my body, his strong hands held me down easily. Whoever he was. It wasn’t Duncan Reever. I don’t know how I knew that, but I was sure of it.

  “Who are you?” I said. He was cradled between my thighs, his erect penis rubbing and nudging against me. “Don’t do this.”

  “You want this,” Reever said as he stared down at me. The words were thick and slurred, forced from his throat. His hips stroked with a maddening rhythm. “Admit it, Cherijo.”

  I couldn’t stop him.

  My first time with Kao Torin had been beautiful. Everything I had hoped and more. A memory I would carry with me for the rest of my life.

  This was nothing like that. This was purely physical. Sex.

  I closed my eyes, ashamed to feel my hands clutching at him now, my senses feeding the frenzied need his body drew from mine.

  “Give you more than Torin did,” he said, and drew my knees up with his palms. “Anatomical advantage.” His fingers slid down my belly, over the folds keeping him from penetrating me. One fingertip slowly parted them, stroking and spreading my own slick fluids over me.

  “You can stimulate me,” I said, and hissed in a breath as his finger slid into my vagina. “You can have sex with me. But you can’t have what Kao Torin and I shared.”

  He removed his hand. “Was is this?” The hard, brutal thrust of his penis into my body forced the air from my lungs.

  “Reever!”

  “It wasn’t, was it?” I felt him withdraw, push in again with slightly less force. “This is what you wanted.” Against my own will, my pelvis rose, meeting him. “Yes,” he said as he began to move with harsh, heavy thrusts. “Take it. Take it.”

  I stopped thinking. I took him.

  For that interval in time I was no better than he was, an animal seeking pleasure. We were human, made to fit together like this. Sma
ll sounds of shock and involuntary pleasure spilled from my lips. My wide eyes never left Reever’s strained features.

  “Reever—wait—you have to—please—” My head snapped back as release exploded through me. I fell into Reever, into that dark, still place inside him. I heard him make a guttural sound, felt the eruption of his own climax fill me.

  Panting, silent, we lay together. Our limbs were tangled, our flesh wet with mingled sweat. Before I felt the shame of what I had done, he linked with me again.

  This time there were no thoughts, only images. The flashes of memory were so rapid and powerful they made me writhe. Spiraling black cliffs. Seething red oceans. Reever’s face, contorted in agony. A single thought screamed through my head. Reever’s voice was filled with fear and urgency.

  Danger Cherijo the co-

  Reality yanked me back with brutal succinctness.

  “No!”

  I hadn’t spoken, or tried to end the link. It was Reever who had thrust me away. In the next moment I was too busy to think about it. I had to get the chief linguist on his side as he went into a gran mal seizure.

  “Damn you, Reever,” I said as I kept him pinned down with the weight of my own body.

  “No! No!” He kept shouting that one word, over and over. I groped and found a syrinpress by touch, then I flipped the selector and jammed the infuser against his neck.

  “Joey!”

  Whatever was causing the seizure wasn’t stopping. The anticonvulsant I’d administered had no effect. I had no choice but to sedate him. Within moments, Reever’s body stopped jerking and twitching, and he began to breathe normally again.

  I slid down from the exam pad and sat on the floor for a few minutes, cradling my temples with my palms. I felt Reever’s semen seeping from my body, and with a disgusted sound I got up and cleansed myself. I couldn’t bare to look at the physical evidence of what had happened, and disposed of the pads I used quickly. I remembered to pull on my clothes and Reever’s before I put the containment suits over them.

  No matter how much I wanted to forget what had happened, I had to report this. Wearily I walked over to the console, switching it to audio-only.