by S. L. Viehl
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
PART ONE - Today
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
PART TWO - Tomorrow
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
PART THREE - Never
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
PART FOUR - Forever
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Praise for the StarDoc Series
StarDoc
“I don’t read much science fiction, but I got ahold of a manuscript copy of StarDoc and just loved it. Don’t miss this one.”
—Catherine Coulter
“Continuously surprising and deviously written and splendidly full of new characters.”
—Anne McCaffrey
“Space opera somewhat reminiscent of C. J. Cherryh’s early work.”
—Chronicle
“An entertaining, almost old-fashioned adventure. . . . The adventure and quirky mix of aliens and cultures makes a fun combination.”
—Locus
“An excellent protagonist. . . . [Viehl has] set the stage for an interesting series of interspecies medical adventures.”
—Space.com
“Space opera and medical melodrama mix with a dash of romance in this engaging novel . . . a rousing good yarn, with plenty of plot twists, inventive scene-setting, and quirky characters to keep readers thoroughly entertained . . . StarDoc is a fun adventure story, with an appealing heroine, a lot of action, a sly sense of humor, and wonders aplenty.”
—SF Site
“A fascinating reading experience . . . a wonderful heroine.”
—Midwest Book Review
Beyond Varallan
“[Cherijo is] an engaging lead character. . . . Viehl skillfully weaves in the clues to build a murder mystery with several surprising ramifications.”
—Space.com
Endurance
“An exciting science fiction tale . . . fast-paced and exciting. . . . SF fans will fully enjoy S. L. Viehl’s entertaining entry in one of the better ongoing series today.”
—Midwest Book Review
“[Endurance] gets into more eclectic and darker territory than most space opera, but it’s a pretty engrossing trip. Recommended.”
—Hypatia’s Hoard
“A rousing medical space opera. . . . Viehl employs misdirection and humor, while not defusing the intense plot development that builds toward an explosive conclusion.”
—Romantic Times
Shockball
“Genetically enhanced fun. . . . Cherijo herself has been justly praised as a breath of fresh air—smart [and] saucy. . . . The reader seems to be invited along as an amicable companion, and such is the force of Cherijo’s personality that it sounds like fun.”
—Science Fiction Weekly
“Fast-paced . . . an entertaining installment in the continuing adventures of the StarDoc.”
—Locus
“An exhilarating science fiction space adventure. The zestful story line stays at warp speed. . . . Cherijo is as fresh as ever. . . . Fans of futuristic outer space novels will want to take off with this tale and the three previous StarDoc books as all four stories take the audience where they rarely have been before.”
—Midwest Book Review
Eternity Row
“Space opera at its very best. . . . Viehl has created a character and a futuristic setting that is second to none in its readability, quality, and social mores.”
—Midwest Book Review
“S. L. Viehl serves readers her usual highly entertaining mix of humor and space opera. This episode is enlivened by the antics of her daughter, Marel, and by an exploration of aging and immortality. As usual I look forward to the next in an exciting series.”
—BookLoons
Rebel Ice
“Well-drawn cultures and fascinating aliens.”
—Publishers Weekly
“It’s fast, fun, character-driven and left me wanting more . . . one of my all-time favorite sci-fi series.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Both gritty and realistic.”
—Romantic Times
“A thrilling addition to the series.”
—Booklist
“A wonderful piece of space opera.”
—SFRevu
“Seems very realistic—almost as if the author visited that world and decided to write about it. Rebel Ice is a terrific outer space science fiction novel.”
—Library Bookwatch
Plague of Memory
“Another exciting adventure in this well-regarded series.”
—Monsters and Critics
THE COMPLETE STARDOC SERIES 2000-2010
StarDoc
Beyond Varallan
Endurance
Shockball
Eternity Row
Rebel Ice
Plague of Memory
Omega Games
Crystal Healer
Dream Called Time
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, August 2010
Copyright © S. L. Viehl, 2010
eISBN: 9781101437865
All rights reserved
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This book is for
all the loyal StarDoc readers out there.
It took ten years for us to make this journey
through constant hardships
and endless heartaches,
but while I chose this path,
you never once let me
walk it alone.
Thank you.
Yesterday
When I woke up, it was in the oddest of circumstances. I was crammed into a very small space, with my legs tucked in and my shoulders pressing against what felt like a tiny console. I opened my eyes and found two small, slimy faces close to mine. “Who are you?”
“Rilken.” One of the diminutive aliens reached out and prodded me with a sticky finger. “You Terran?”
“Uh huh.” I tried to sit up, found I couldn’t, and swiveled onto my stomach instead. I was inside what had to be the smallest vessel I’d ever seen. A lavatory on the Sunlace was ten times bigger. “Why am I here?”
“We purchase you from Bartermen.” One of the little guys went to an equally tiny helm and initiated some engines. “Prepare for launch.”
“Wait a minute.” I managed to hunch over and sit up, and immediately felt like Gulliver. I filled up half the passenger compartment, which had been designed for beings less than half a meter in height. “Where are we going?”
“We are leaving Oenrall,” the other pip-squeak said. “We are mercenaries. You will be returned to the Hsktskt for blood bounty.”
Midget mercenaries. Well, why not? “You’re friends with the lizards?”
He shrugged his tiny shoulders. “The Hsktskt offer more credits for you.”
The tiny vessel lifted off and entered the upper atmosphere. Before the mercenaries could initiate their flightshield, something struck us.
“What is it?” The one guarding me ran up to the helm.
“A Jorenian ship, firing on us.” Fear ran through the Rilken’s voice. “They have disabled our stardrive.”
Considering the size of the ship, Xonea must have used a peashooter. I crawled up behind both of them, and felt for the syrinpress I’d been carrying in my tunic pocket. It was gone, so I’d have to use more creative measures.
“Nighty-night, boys.” I knocked their skulls together once, then watched them slide to the floor. I looked around me. “That’s it? I don’t get shot, stabbed, poisoned, whipped, burned, or anything else?”
The Rilkens didn’t make a response.
Clunking them was certainly easier than using their communications array. I had to use one of my fingernails to operate the control panel. At last I raised the CloudWalk to let them know I was in control and all right.
“It is good to see you, council representative,” the Jado ClanLeader said, and smiled. “There are two others here who wish to relay their happiness, as well.”
He stepped aside, and the welcome sight of my husband and daughter appeared on the vid screen.
“Cherijo.” My husband looked very relieved. “You escaped the Bartermen by yourself?”
“Mtulla helped. By the way, if you ever want to get kidnapped, pick Rilkens. Very easy species to overpower. Marel could do it.” I thought of the peace talks. “Have I ruined everything for Captain Teulon?”
“No, it appears the negotiations are a success. The Torins retrieved Alunthri from the Jxin, and it has convinced the Taercal that your cure is a divine intervention, and that their god refuses to allow them to suffer, as was prophesied.”
“About time.” I moved one of the sleeping Rilkens out of my way and sat back against the interior hull wall. “Well, I think that wraps it up here. I’d really like that vacation now, please.”
“Come and get us.”
Reever told me how to fly the Rilken vessel to rendezvous with the Jado ship, then touched the screen with his hand. “I’ll be waiting for you, Waenara.”
I matched my fingertips to his. “Not for long, Ose” peke.”
Those last words we exchanged would come back to haunt me. I just didn’t know it yet.
Because the shot from the Jado had wrecked the stardrive, I could only coax limping speed out of the propulsion system. I set the helm on autopilot, tied up the Rilkens so they wouldn’t cause any more trouble when they woke, and tried to make myself comfortable by stretching out my legs on the deck. I’d always felt like a shrimp compared with most other beings, so it was kind of a novelty to experience for once what it was like to be a giant.
I didn’t expect ClanLeader Jado to send a launch to meet me, so when one appeared on the exterior viewer, I reached for the dinky console to send a signal. “Reever told me how to use the ship’s position to navigate to the CloudWalk, Captain. I won’t get lost.”
No one responded, and when I peered at the console, I saw several warning lights blinking. Someone was jamming my transceiver, which wasn’t a good thing. Neither was the launch, the design of which wasn’t Jorenian, but League.
I tried another signal, this time opening the relay so it could be picked up by the other vessel. “League transport, identify yourself, and your reasons for approaching my vessel.”
A harsh voice responded with only four words. “Prepare to be boarded.”
“Prepare my ass.” I swung around and crouched over the console, taking it off auto control and changing course to evade the League transport.
I dodged them for a while, but their engines were working perfectly, as was their pulse array. They fired twice and took out what was left of the Rilkens’ propulsion system, then used a third to destroy my transceiver.
I couldn’t see the CloudWalk on the viewer, but I knew they were out there and monitoring my progress, as was the ship belonging to my adopted family, HouseClan Torin. They’d definitely pick up the pulse fire on their scanners. Any attack on a member of a Jorenian HouseClan resulted in a declaration of ClanKill, which meant my adopted kin would devote themselves to hunting down my assailants and subjecting them to an instant and painful death by manual evisceration.
“You guys are going to be so sorry you did this,” I muttered as I looked around the cabin for weapons.
The Rilkens had a couple of pistols and rifles, but they were too small for me to handle comfortably. I settled for a dagger I took off one of my unconscious abductors, although I had to wrap the hilt with some plastape until it was large enough for me to grip. I staggered as the deck rocked; the viewer showed the transport’s docking clamps engulfing the little ship.
I put my back against a wall and watched the upper access hatch. Energy crackled through the air, and then something knocked me away from the wall and threw me to the deck.
I crawled, my teeth still chattering from the power surge they’d sent through the hull, but there was no place big enough for me to hide. A pair of League boots appeared in front of my nose, and I raised my head to look into the business end of a pulse rifle.
“Colonel Shropana sends his compliments,” the soldier said just before he reversed the weapon and slammed the stock into my face.
PART ONE
Today
One
Into whatever houses I enter, I will go for the benefit of the sick.
—Hippocrates
Hippocrates never had to deal with a patient like mine, or he’d have said to hell with his oath and run for the hills.
As I was currently on the Sunlace, a Jorenian interstellar star vessel, I didn’t have hills or that luxury. What I did have was a body on the exam table in front of me: Terran, adult female, petite, thin, pale-skinned, and dark-haired. Uninjured but unconscious, waiting to be awakened, to be healed, to be saved.
Standing there in the cold, sterile brightness of the medical assessment room, dependent on the kindness of a bunch of strangers, I could relate.
Visually speaking, the patient did not appear to be a sterling example of her gender or her species. I’d never call her pretty, shapely, vibrant, or attractive. She didn�
��t have the benefit of physical symmetry; her long-fingered, narrow hands appeared overly large for her bony wrists; her long torso seemed at odds with her short legs. Her translucent skin didn’t have a mark on it, which made it look like a too-tight envirosuit, and displayed in outline a bit too much of her skeletal structure. Although I knew her to be in her midthirties, at first glance I’d have guessed her to be a moderately undernourished adolescent.
I picked up her chart. “Not much to look at, is she?” The herd of tall, blue-skinned Jorenian interns and nurses gathered around the table didn’t respond. “Until we open the really boring package, and get a look at all the prizes inside.”
“Healer, what say we summon your bondmate?” That came from a gorgeous female nurse whose name I didn’t know. She wove her fingers through the air as she spoke in the eloquent hand gestures her species used as part of their language. “He would wish to be present.”
I watched her white-within-white eyes, which were not at all as blind as they appeared. “Do you think I need my husband to hold my hand while I assess this patient, Nurse?”
She was two feet taller than me and a hundred pounds heavier, and could probably snap my neck with one jerk of her beautiful blue wrist, but she shuffled her feet and ducked her head like a scolded kid. “No, Healer.”
“Good answer.” I turned my attention back to the patient. “The Terran female here presents with a genetically enhanced immune system which renders her impervious to infection and disease,” I said, not bothering to read from the chart. “Any injury she sustains, including the life-threatening variety, heals in a matter of hours. Her brain capacity is estimated to be several hundred times that of an average Terran, and includes exceptional intelligence, eidetic memory, and select superior motor skills.” I glanced at the dismayed faces across from me. “Any of you know how she was created?”
