by Cynthia Sax
Vauva was strong. She would soon recover from her illness.
Allinen tidied her body with one of her cyborg’s magical cleaning cloths. “I should return to the settlement.” She donned her garment, wrapping the fabric around her body, fastening it.
“I’m returning with you.” Refusing to be left behind, her mate dressed in his black body armor and huge boots. He was a stubborn, stubborn male.
And she desired no one else.
“I will check on my niece, ensure she is well.” That would ease the few lingering concerns she had. “Then I’ll collect the rest of the information you need.” He’d be there to confirm she’d retrieved all of it. “Once that’s done, we can leave the settlement…and leave the planet.” As she said that, she was suddenly assailed by doubt. “If you still want me to accompany you.”
“If I leave, you’ll accompany me.” Doc slung his huge medic pack over one of his shoulders. More objects, including a handheld, had been added to it. “You’re my mate. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
That confirmation of his commitment to her filled her with happiness. She exited the domicile and weaved her way between the trees. Her cyborg followed her closely.
Contact with an outsider was forbidden. Her kind could banish her for what they would soon do.
They could kill Doc.
“If another Khambalian sees you—”
“No one will see me.” Her cyborg’s tone was confident. “I’ll stay in the shadows.”
“There won’t be any shadows around me.” Her light, re-energized by three bouts of joining and many moments of restoring sleep, burned brightly. His nanocybotics bubbled inside her.
“I’ll put distance between us once we enter the settlement.” He communicated that unhappy news.
She liked being near him, liked no longer being alone.
As though he was thinking the same thing, he linked his fingers with hers, holding her hand as they walked. His palm was coarse, his skin warm.
He had shortened his stride to match hers. She slowed their pace, not wanting the trek to end.
“There’s a pathway along the exterior of my domicile, to the east.” She considered the situation. “It’s rarely used and often dark.”
“I’ll wait for you there.” He squeezed her hand.
A pack of pahas came into view. As they spotted her, they dashed away. They were one of the reasons the settlement was guarded. One of her kind, especially a child, wrapped in a covering cloth, sleeping, would be in peril if the beasts entered the community.
Allinen’s thoughts turned to her niece. “I’ll be relieved to see Vauva healthy. Her illness scared me.”
“If her immune system is strong, she’ll be undamaged.” Her male tempered her expectations with that provision.
Because he was a healer. The healer in her settlement was as cautious, often qualifying her statements with ‘if that was what the fates decreed.’
It would be what the fates decreed.
Her niece was strong. She would recover.
“When Vauva had three solar cycles, she climbed to the top of her domicile’s tree.” Allinen had been impressed. The tree was huge.
Her sister had been horrified. Terrified her baby would fall, Sisko had started shaking so vehemently she almost fell over. She had to sit on the pathway for her own safety.
“My niece knew how to climb up the tree.” Allinen smiled. “She didn’t know how to climb down. I had to retrieve her.”
Vauva had wrapped her little arms around her neck and babbled excitedly about her adventure, not a glint of fear in her big innocent eyes.
As Allinen walked beside her cyborg, she shared stories about her family with him. He talked about the brethren he so clearly loved.
Too soon, the two of them reached the edge of the forest. She stood with Doc behind a large tree. “We have to part here.”
“If you need me, whisper my name.” He drew her to him. “I’ll hear you.” Her male, the being she recognized as her mate, brushed his lips over hers.
That brief kiss wasn’t enough for her but it would have to suffice until they were alone once more. She reluctantly drew back from him. “Be careful.”
His head dipped. His eyes gleamed.
Paha teeth. He turned her on.
Allinen doused her lust for him and sprinted toward the settlement.
This was the first time she’d entered her community at sunrise. The guards standing around its perimeter had unnervingly dour expressions on their faces. None of them chattered. They stared straight ahead of them.
Yet they didn’t notice her, didn’t stop her. They seemed lost in their own thoughts. She shrugged. They must not be sunrise beings.
No one was this planet rotation.
The pathways were deserted. That was unusual. Many of her kind greeted the sunrise with social visits and other communal activities.
Since entering the settlement, she hadn’t seen a single, solitary being.
As Allinen turned that bizarre observation over in her mind, she sensed another presence. Her nipples tightened and her pussy became wet. That could only mean one thing.
Her cyborg had rejoined her.
Trying to be covert, she looked around her as she moved through the settlement. She didn’t spot him. He must be far enough away to avoid her light yet close enough for her body to detect.
Doc was good at remaining unseen.
Her tread lightened. The rightness of his company almost offset the wrongness of her surroundings.
Almost.
The pathways were devoid of other life. The settlement was eerily quiet.
Unease unsettled Allinen’s stomach. She paused upon reaching her domicile. The door was closed. Seeking reassurance, she glanced toward the east pathway.
The shadows shifted.
She wasn’t alone. Her mate was waiting there.
Her chin lifted. She could face anything with him close.
Squaring her shoulders, she slipped into her domicile.
The putrid aroma of illness hit her. The chamber was quiet, was too still. Lanko was missing from his post near the door. Sisko was hunched over the sleeping support.
Very little light originated from it.
Foreboding gripped Allinen’s heart. “She should have improved by now.”
“Should.” Sisko spat. “You speak as though you know of this illness. You know nothing.” Her sister turned her head and glared at her.
Her face was wet with tears.
The last time Allinen had seen her sister weep was when she had five solar cycles. Sisko had fallen, had scraped her knees.
Their mother had looked at her sister with disgust. A crying female brings shame upon her mate, she told them.
Sisko hadn’t cried in public since that planet rotation.
But she was crying now. That wasn’t a good sign.
Allinen clasped her hands together to stop them from shaking.
“All of Vauva’s friends are sick. Her mate is sick. Their siblings are sick.” Sisko recited the horrifying list of the ill. “Two babies have died.” Her sister sobbed. “Two.” She turned back toward Vauva, reached out, smoothed the girl’s damp hair. “And my daughter isn’t getting better.”
Something had to be done. “The healer—”
“The healer is busy with the others.” Her sister’s shoulders quivered.
They had waited too long to fetch the female. “They all have the same illness. We can apply the same treatment to Vauva, heal her ourselves. The healer doesn’t have to see her.”
“I’ve done that.” Her sister’s voice raised. “I’ve done everything—applied herbs to her chest, mixed a variety of beverages, forced her to vomit, wrapped her in heated covering cloths. Nothing helps.” Her sister visibly deflated. “My daughter gets worse with every passing moment. Soon—” Her voice broke.
Soon Vauva would be dead. “No.” Allinen paced. “That can’t happen. Your daughter isn’t a baby. She’s strong. S
he’ll recover.”
“She hasn’t recovered.” Sisko pulled the covering cloths upward, tucking them under her daughter’s chin. “I—”
The door opened. Lanko strode inside. He looked older than his number of solar cycles, his beautiful face grooved with lines.
“Vauva’s mate is dead.” His announcement erupted like a lava pocket between them, decimating the last remnants of their hope.
Sisko wailed.
Lanko strode across the chamber, wrapped his arms around his mate.
Allinen pressed her lips together, all of her reeling from Vauva’s mate’s death. The last time she had seen the boy, he had been strong, healthy, almost annoyingly full of life, pulling other children’s hair, disregarding his mother’s plea to stop running around.
Now, he was dead.
If he could die, Vauva could die. Her niece was a solar cycle younger than her mate, had more exposure to the medic pack, to the Candida deneb fungus, as her cyborg had labeled the origin of the illness.
Her cyborg.
Her medic cyborg, a being who had identified the illness. He had said he would derive some repairs in case her niece didn’t recover.
Allinen stopped pacing. “I know someone who might be able to heal Vauva.”
“There are no other healers in the settlement.” Sisko’s voice was watery.
“He’s not from the settlement.” She braced herself for their response.
“You will not expose our daughter to another outsider.” Lanko straightened. “An outsider did this to her.” He waved at Vauva’s still form.
The girl’s face was drenched with sweat. Her eyes were closed.
“That was a different outsider.” Her argument was weak. Allinen realized that. Her kind looked at all outsiders as being the same. “Doc is a cyborg. His kind doesn’t become ill. And he’s a healer.”
“If his kind doesn’t become ill, he wouldn’t have any experience with what our daughter has.” Lanko glowered at her.
Allinen wouldn’t, couldn’t back down. Her niece’s lifespan was at stake. “He has access to information about the illness.”
“No.” Her sister’s mate crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“Yes.” Allinen mimicked his pose. “Your daughter isn’t recovering. We have to do something or she’ll die.” She squeaked out that word. Simply saying it devastated her. “Doc might be able to save her. That’s worth a try, especially as we have no other ideas.”
Lanko glared at her.
She glared back at him. They were discussing her niece. She would fight to the death to save her.
“Then we try it.” Her sister broke the stalemate.
Lanko’s gaze shifted to Sisko. He frowned. “He’s an outsider, mate.”
“He’s an outsider my sister trusts.” Sisko looked at her.
Allinen nodded, confirming that truth. “I would trust him with everything and with everyone I love. And Vauva is one of those beings I love. I would die before harming her.”
“You have harmed her.” Her sister’s reply twisted like a dagger in her gut. “And I will always hate you for that.” That was said with certainty. Sisko would never forgive her for exposing Vauva to harm.
Allinen would deal with that loss later. Her niece was her priority at the moment.
“But I will hate you less if you heal my daughter.” Her sister‘s tone relayed she didn’t think that was possible. “You and your outsider will have your try.”
Sisko didn’t truly believe Doc’s repairs would work.
But Allinen did. She had faith in her healer mate.
“Go.” Sisko waved her hands. “Get him.”
“I disagree with this, mate.” Lanko was loud with his protest.
Whatever argument he had against accepting an outsider’s help might be convincing. Allinen left the domicile before he could change her sister’s mind.
As soon as she stepped outside the door, Doc stepped forward, into the light.
The male was recklessly brave.
“My niece—” She couldn’t say more.
And she didn’t have to.
“She hasn’t recovered. I heard your discussion.” He opened his medic pack, extracted a handheld. “Multiple antifungal medications at high doses have to be applied. I don’t have the inputs for them. You will have to derive these medications from local herbs.”
“You will have to derive them.” She moved toward him. “I’ll help you.”
Her cyborg frowned. “Contact with outsiders is forbidden.” He quoted one of the rules.
They were rules she no longer cared about. “My sister and her mate already know about you.”
“The rest of the settlement doesn’t know about me.” Her mate met her gaze, his eyes a stormy gray. “And your sister and her mate don’t have proof of my existence. When they see me, they’ll have it, and when this illness has passed, you could be banished.”
There was no reason to care about being banished unless… “You said you weren’t leaving without me.”
“I’m not.” He quashed her fears. “You’re my female, my mate. I won’t leave without you.”
“Then it doesn’t matter if I’m banished.” She shrugged. “I’m leaving. And even if I wasn’t, I would face banishment to save my niece’s lifespan. You’re our best hope to heal her.” She gripped his hands tightly. “I believe that with my whole heart.”
His jaw clenched. “I will strive to be worthy of your belief.”
She knew he would do all he could to heal her niece. That was the type of male he was—experimenting on himself to repair perceived damage no one asked him to repair.
“My kind views questions as being disrespectful.” She reminded her cyborg as she walked with him toward the entrance.
“I will adhere to your customs.” He followed her into her domicile.
Lanko stiffened.
Sisko gasped.
Allinen shut the door and grasped Doc’s hand. “This is my mate.”
Wanting them to trust him, she was open about their relationship…but she didn’t share the temporary nature of it. They wouldn’t understand that.
“His name is Doc.” She repeated what she had told them earlier. “He’s a cyborg. And he’s a healer.”
“He’s an outsider.” Lanko curled his top lip. “Outsiders don’t have mates.”
“I’m a cyborg and my kind have mates.” Doc’s gaze locked with the other male’s. “We’re genetically compatible with only one being. I have lived hundreds of your lifespans and hadn’t met my female…until I arrived on your planet.” He squeezed Allinen’s hand. “Your mate’s sister is my mate.”
She stared up at him. Beasts didn’t mate permanently.
And he was a beast
Wasn’t he?
“My daughter is dying.” Sisko reminded them of what was most urgent—saving Vauva’s lifespan. “I don’t care about the healer’s relationship with my sister.”
“Your daughter’s lifespan is our priority also.” Doc surveyed the chamber.
His gaze rested on the horizontal support. He moved to it, prompting Allinen to move with him.
She would be his helper. Anything he needed, she’d strive to retrieve for him.
“The herbs are already separated. That’s good.” Her cyborg’s face was blank. He had slipped into his unemotional healer role. “We’ll scan each one.” He touched the dried plants. “Input them.” He touched the handheld. “We need a couple more inputs. The containers of liquid—”
“I have them.” She grabbed a couple of containers, passed them to him.
He dipped his fingertips into the liquid, tapped the handheld. “We’re missing one input. My databases say it is commonly found in”—he glanced at the wall—“some tree bark.”
“I’ll retrieve it.” She located her favorite dagger, the one she utilized for fabricating nourishment, and she hurried outside, shaved a sliver of bark off her domicile.
That was tested, was rejected. The toxici
ty levels were too low. The tree didn’t have enough solar cycles.
She zipped around the settlement, nicking her neighbor’s domiciles with her dagger’s tip until they finally found suitable bark. Thankfully, the pathways were empty. No one noticed her stealing pieces of their homes.
Her cyborg combined the inputs in carefully measured quantities. Allinen helped him as much as she could.
Lanko leaned against a wall and glowered at him, his gaze never leaving them. Sisko hovered over her daughter, wiping the girl’s brow, keeping her covered with layers of fabric.
Doc stirred the concoction they’d crafted, dipped his finger into it, touched the handheld, stared at it for moment, and nodded. “It’s ready.”
“You’ll kill her with that.” Lanko pushed away from the wall. “I won’t allow that near my daughter.”
“I’ll allow it.” Sisko overrode his decision. “I’ve used all of those herbs on all three of us in the past. We’ve drunk the beverage. Children have chewed on all of the trees in our settlement and have never died from doing that. It’s safe.”
“Combining inputs—”
Allinen jabbed her elbow into her cyborg’s stomach, severing what was certain to be one of his cautious qualifications. “It’s safe.”
“I’ll monitor her specs.” Doc gripped the handheld with one hand and the container filled with the concoction with the other. They repositioned by the sleeping support, moving as a team. “We’ll encourage her to drink as much of the liquid as possible.”
“I’ll do that.” Sisko took the container from him. “And she’ll drink all of it.” She tilted the container toward her daughter’s chattering lips.
Her sister had been optimistic. Vauva was only able to drink little over half of the liquid. The rest of it flowed down her chin.
But Doc said that should be enough. He took the container away from Allinen’s sister.
They waited.
Chapter Thirteen
His female had placed her trust in him.
And he was failing her.
Doc studied the handheld for the three hundredth and fifteenth time. The readings hadn’t changed. Despite applying multiple rounds of various antifungal medications, the niece’s condition continued to worsen.
