by neetha Napew
I silently applauded my boss. “We’d better take a couple of specimen containers along with us, too. We’ll need the tissue samples.” I gathered up the dusty, ancient charts left behind by the Oenrallian doctors. “And no heads, please.”
After we retrieved what we required, and moved Qonja on a litter to the back of Mtulla’s vehicle, Dhreen drove us beyond the city to what appeared to be a secondary, abandoned Transport site. No Oenrallians rushed toward us as we climbed out, but my skin prickled.
Someone was watching us.
“Where are Duncan and Xonea?” I said as we carried the resident’s litter toward a small pile of junk parts left beside the stripped-down hull of an archaic League starshuttle.
“We’re going to get them now.” Dhreen reached into the salvage heap and pulled. The parts began rolling away, revealing a small, battered launch beneath. “Get in.”
“That?” I stepped back. “No. I don’t think so.”
“It’s all I could steal on short notice.” A sound made Dhreen whirl around. “Get in, or we’re not making it out of here.”
I glanced at what had grabbed his attention and groaned. A cluster of glidecars were headed for the launch area at full speed. “Will I ever leave a planet without being chased down by the locals?” I said as I helped Squilyp carry Qonja up the docking ramp.
“Probably not,” the Omorr replied.
Dhreen got in behind the helm controls while Squilyp and I strapped our patient down and climbed into the crude harnesses hanging from the interior wall panels. There were no seats, and from the look of the rewired components powering the launch, we’d be lucky not to fry in a flash fire before the Oenrallian got us off the ground.
Shots smashed into the outer hull, making me throw a protective arm over Qonja. “Dhreen!”
“Hang on!”
The launch shuddered violently, then lifted off. Shots fired from below still smashed into the deck under our feet, and Squilyp closed his eyes.
“Going to hover over the auction pens,” Dhreen said as he flew back over Valsegas. “When we’re in position, dump the lower cargo container.”
“What’s in it?” I said as I untangled myself from the harness.
“Something to distract the crowd.”
I went back to the cargo hold controls and manned them. Squilyp went up to the helm and took over from Dhreen, who came back and strapped on some weapons. “If everyone on this planet is immortal, those won’t work,” I said.
“The slavers aren’t Oenrallian.” He activated a pulse rifle, then slung it over his shoulder before facing me. “Don’t worry, Doc, I won’t kill anyone. I’ll stun whoever gets in my way.” He checked the viewport, then called to Squilyp, “We’re here. Assume hover position ten meters above the central complex.”
“What about me?” I jerked my chin toward the control panel.
“As soon as I lower myself out, dump the hold.” Dhreen wrapped a hoist cable around his waist and secured it. “I’ll signal you, then pull us back up. Be prepared to fly out of here fast, Senior Healer.”
I wanted to jump on the cable, too, but someone had to handle the controls. I settled for reaching out and touching his arm. “Be careful.”
He grinned. “Ceaselessly.”
I waited until the loading access panel slid to one side, and Dhreen jumped out, then I dumped the cargo hold. Whatever fell out made the launch jerk up, then back down into position. I ran over to the edge of the access opening to look down.
In the streets below, Oenrallians were scrambling and fighting with each other over hundreds of small, sealed packages. Some ripped them open immediately and applied the coin-size items inside to their skin, then slumped over or fell into a stupor.
“Sensblok!” I forgot all about how much I loved Dhreen. “He’s showering them with drugs?”
The diversion worked. Dhreen landed on the top of the building below us and went inside. A short time later, he emerged with Duncan and Xonea, and fired a shot directly in the air. I ran back to the controls and initiated the hoist lift.
The launch bucked again as the cable began reeling in. I went over to the access opening and reached down, grabbing the back of Reever’s tunic as he climbed hand over hand up the cable.
“Duncan.” I pulled until he got over the side, then wrapped my arms around him. “Thank God you’re safe.”
He kissed me, hard, then helped Xonea and Dhreen back in. More shots were fired, and one burst up through the opening and exploded on the interior ceiling, showering us with sparks.
I rolled over and covered the resident’s body with my own. “Squilyp, go!”
My boss gunned the controls, and the launch started a vertical climb away from Valsegas City.
Squilyp switched places with Dhreen so he could watch over Qonja while I examined Reever and Xonea.
“Stop complaining and let me have a look at you,” I told the Captain. “It’s here or in Medical, as soon as we get back.”
Xonea wanted a full report on what had happened since we’d been separated, so Squilyp filled in the details while I ran the scans. Both my husband and the Captain had sustained some minor injuries, mostly nasty contusions from fighting with the slavers, but were otherwise unharmed.
“How many of these people are suffering in these death-hospitals?” my ClanBrother asked me.
I shut off my scanner and replaced it in my medical case before relating my estimates. “This is based on what Dhreen told me, and the natural death rate among this level of civilization and population. It could be millions, plus or minus a few hundred thousand, but even one person suffering like this is too many.”
Reever brushed some hair out of my face. “Are you all right?”
I nodded briskly. The last thing I wanted to do was get all weepy and helpless. I owed the people on those wards more than that. “We can’t leave Oenrall until we try to help them.” I turned to Xonea. “I know Dhreen’s abduction wasn’t exactly the best way to get us there, but I understand why he did it.”
The Captain wasn’t convinced. “His people could have applied to their quadrant governors for assistance.”
“You’ve seen how the League pursues me, and I’m just one person who may or may not be immortal. Can you imagine how valuable an entire planet of people who can’t die would be? The slave traders alone would descend in hordes. The League’s scientists would have subjects they could experiment on forever.”
“I regret they suffer as much as you do, Cherijo.” His face grew stern. “However, serious harm has been inflicted upon our House.”
“Please, Xonea. Please don’t retaliate against him or his people. If you’d seen how they were...” I stood up quickly and straightened my tunic. “If the placebo worked, then the key is in the brain activity. All we have to do is figure out how to shut it down. I can do this.”
“I’m not as convinced,” Squilyp admitted. “There were numerous bodies disconnected from their cerebral organs. They were as alive as the others. More in-depth investigation of the condition is required.”
“Oenrallians have nerve clusters, all along their vertebrae. I’m betting those are doing the same job as the brains would.” I sighed. “But you’re right-we need to do extensive analysis of our data, and that’s going to take some time.” I turned to the Captain. “It’s the right thing to do, Xonea. That’s all I can say to you. I hope it’s enough.”
He nodded. “For now, it will be.”
Dhreen angled the launch to dock with the Sunlace, and set down inside the bay. The decrepit hull seemed to tremble as he went through decon and opened the outer door. “We’re clear to disembark.”
On the deck below a small group of Command officers waited, along with Squilyp’s intended. She was dressed in her usual gorgeous finery, and looked ready to throttle the first one who stepped down.
Which was me. “Gee, you didn’t have to come to meet us. I’m touched.”
“You will be more than touched when I am finished with yo
u, Terran.” She hopped up to me and gave me a little push with one of her membranes. “How dare you accost my adoren and force him to remain on that wretched planet, with all those drug addicts! Have you no respect for the institution of contract marriage under negotiation?”
“I shield you,” I said quickly, to protect her from the Jorenians’ wrath. “Squilyp, come and put a leash on your female, will you?”
“I am making a solicitation, you greedy, dishonorable woman! You will submit yourself to my challenge!”
“No, she will not.” Squilyp hopped slowly down the docking ramp and over to us. “I apologize for Garphawayn’s behavior, Doctor. And you.” He turned on his fiancée. “You will return to Omorr, as soon as I can signal a ship to come and get you.”
He hopped out of launch bay, leaving both me and his ex-fiancée staring after him.
“I refuse your solicitation,” I said, just to make it official. Despite my intense dislike for the Omorr female, I felt a wrenching pity as I watched her haughty face dissolve into disbelief. “Maybe you should go talk to him.”
“Mind your own affairs!” she snapped, then stomped out of the launch bay.
Our Senior Healer might have been eager to dump his girlfriend, but it turned out not to be quite so simple-as I found out when I reported for duty the next day.
Squilyp had finished rounds already, and I found him sulking in his office. “Hey. You could have waited for me. I’m not even late this time.”
“Sit down.” As I did, he handed me a stack of charts with Dhreen’s on top. “I’ve reassigned your cases to the resident staff, so you and I can concentrate on researching the Oenrallian quandary. Make your final notes and pass them over to Adaola and Vlaav. I’ve readmitted Dhreen as an inpatient.”
I switched on the chart. “Problems with the Lok-Teel shunt?”
“No. I want to run comparison analysis between the specimens we brought back and his cellular composition and physiology. Whatever is happening to those people down there hasn’t affected him, or has worn off since he left Oenrall.”
Now that was something I hadn’t considered. “It might be coming from something indigenous.”
“Exactly.” He sat back in his chair. “There is another problem: time.”
“Time?” I frowned. “I know we want to work fast, but those patients on Eternity Row aren’t going anywhere.”
“I signaled Omorr last night, to send a ship for Lady Cestes. They refused.” He punched up a relay on his screen, then turned it for me to see.
“We regret we are unable to enter an active war zone to pick up your passenger. Please relocate your ship to an unconflicted area and relay your coordinates.”
I stared at the dignified Omorr face on the screen. “We’re not in a war zone.”
“Keep listening,” my boss said.
A second relay appeared. “We have received your inquiry. At this current time, a faction known as ‘Sadda’s Justice’ have declared war on Oenrall. The Locias Quadrant forces have declined to take part in this aggression, as it involves theological differences. They have additionally refused to provide protection to any ship which enters the specified war zone.”
I frowned. “Why have they declared war on Oenrall?”
“According to what they told quadrant officials, removing Alunthri from their world gave them cause enough to reinstitute the use of their abandoned technology-and they know more about it than they led us to believe. They tracked the Sunlace here, and tapped into quadrant databases to learn more about the planet.”
I recalled their reaction to Dhreen. “And the minute they saw what the Oenrallians looked like, they probably went nuts.” I watched the screen’s sad image fade away. “So that’s it? They just announce some holy war and we’re cut off?”
“That’s not all.” Squilyp handed me a data pad, which displayed a star chart with a cluster of objects approaching the Oenrall system. “They haven’t simply declared war. They’re on their way to invade the planet.”
With the ship on full alert, Squilyp and I prepared the staff and Medical for the worst. We brought our contingency plans to the emergency meeting of department heads the next day, and reviewed a multistage method by which we would be able to convert storage space and run triage stations to handle minor injury cases from each on four different levels of the ship.
The Captain approved of our strategy, and the others presented by various departments. “Engineering is to be given priority on each level. Be prepared to initiate these procedures immediately upon notification from the helm.” He cleared the center holoprojector and punched up a new image, one of an immense Jorenian research vessel. “The CloudWalk is en route to Oenrall, as you know, to meet with us regarding the League/Hsktskt conflict. I notified ClanLeader Teulon yesterday and apprised him of the intelligence the Omorr passed along to us. This was his response.”
A strong, intelligent blue face replaced the image of the ship. “Our thanks to HouseClan Torin for relaying news of the Taercal intentions within the quadrant. After consultation with the Ruling Council, it has been decided to postpone first negotiations with the Allied League and Hsktskt Faction. Instead, we will attempt to establish reasonable dialogue between Taerca and Oenrall.”
“He’d better bring plenty of guns and tranquilizers,” I said under my breath.
The young ClanLeader continued. “As we remain several days from our rendezvous point, the Jado request that the Torin arrange a meeting between representatives from both worlds at a neutral site agreeable to both. Please advise us of your status as soon as possible. Our thanks once more for your assistance in this matter.” The head inclined, and the image disappeared.
Squilyp stroked his gildrells in a thoughtful way. “He doesn’t want much, does he?”
“Senior Healer, what is Hawk’s status?” Xonea asked. “Will he be able to assist us in communicating with the Taercal?”
“Not at this time. Hawk Long Knife is suffering from acute paranoid schizophrenia, and must remain in sleep suspension until we devise a treatment plan.” Squilyp didn’t have to say that the occupants of Eternity Row took precedence over that. Xonea knew what we were dealing with.
The Captain turned to the end of one table. “Alunthri, these people equate you with the deity they worship. Are you willing to assist us in communication and negotiation with them?”
The Chakacat nodded, but it didn’t look happy.
Xonea turned his head. “Ship’s Linguist, have you completed your surveys?”
“Yes,” my husband said. I smiled at him, then rolled my eyes when I saw who he had on his lap. “There is a planet in the solar system between Taerca and Oenrall which would suit our purposes.” He removed a disc from Marel’s hand and placed it in the table console, producing a holoimage star chart. “Surface sweeps indicate the indigenous population was exterminated by war many millennia before this quadrant was colonized.”
“Free dars,” my daughter said, pointing.
The pretty stars dwindled as the imager zoomed in on the world. The heavily cratered surface still showed signs of multicolored zones that indicated something was still living on it.
“Does it have a name?”
“At present”-Duncan shifted Marel back away from the console-“it has only a numerical designation. However, I believe my wife knows its name.”
“I do?”
“Mama’s dar,” my kid said, and smacked a key. The imager zoomed back out, and she crawled up on the table to stick her finger in some of the lights. “See? Two dars, one big dar, four widow dars. Make a fwower.”
“Honey, please get down, you...” I stopped and slowly rose to my feet. I didn’t have to look at my husband to know what he was thinking. “No, Duncan. Pick another planet.”
He was already signaling someone. “Relay the data up to here.” A moment later, another, very familiar chart came up and superimposed itself over the original.
“They match.” Xonea studied the grids. “What say you,
ClanSister?”
“I say, no way.” I took my daughter down from the console and tucked her on my hip. “So some of the stars match. That doesn’t mean this planet is the one.”
“Captain, this is the same world recorded on the discs given to Cherijo by the alien female.” Reever didn’t look the least bit ashamed as he wrecked my whole day. “It is Jxinok.”
“Tell me something, sweetie,” I said as I tucked Marel in for her nap that afternoon. “How did you know about that star chart your daddy showed us?”
“Free dars.” She blinked, and nestled down into her pillows. “Make fwower wid pree dars.”
I left her sleeping and went out to where my husband was manning the console, still studying Maggie’s star chart. I reached over, shut down the file, and popped out the disc. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“If we are ever to live free and unafraid, we must discover who Maggie is and what she wants.”
“She’s a ghost who’s stuck in my head and nothing else.”
“That’s what you want her to be.” He got up and tried to pull me in his arms, but I was still too angry to do the kiss-and-make-up thing. “Cherijo, why are you so afraid of knowing the truth about yourself?”
“I’m not afraid. I’m a mother now. It’s not just me this affects.” I looked at Marel’s room. “What happens if we find out everything Maggie has said is true? That I’m not human, that I can’t die, that there’s some other reason I was created? It’s bad enough I can’t tell her about her grandfather, the sadistic bastard, or any of her uncles, until she’s old enough to know what monsters are. How much more do you want to dump on this kid?”
“Marel is not your clone, and she also deserves the truth.” He got up and walked away.
I followed him. “Why, so she can have a bounty put on her head? So some scientist can wrap her in nerve-web and see how much pain she can take? So she can watch people she loves die trying to protect her? Look at me, Duncan!” His eyes went from blue to gray as he met my gaze. “This isn’t your decision to make, it never was. And yet you go right ahead and push aside my wishes so you can satisfy your curiosity. That’s really what this is about-you can’t stand it, not knowing. Well, I can.”
