Shifting Isles Box Set

by G. R. Lyons

The woman hurried over, keeping her head down and coming to a stop next to Zevic, but she seemed to shy away from getting too close to him.

  “Zhadeyn works here,” Zevic explained. “One of our better record keepers, even though she is only a woman. Zhadeyn, these are the doctors from Agoran. Jase, Quinn, Graeden, and Leni. You're to do whatever they ask, understand?”

  Zhadeyn nodded rapidly, never lifting her eyes from the floor.

  “Right. Get back to work.”

  She nodded again and hurried away, scooping up an armful of files from the counter on the far side of the room and vanishing out the door.

  Zevic leaned in close and said, “Girl needs a good smacking every now and then. Don't hold back with her. She misbehaves? You put her in her place. Got it?”

  Graeden stared blankly at the man, then turned away. He righted the overturned cart and restacked the boxes that had fallen from atop it, then strode over to the sink at the other side of the room. He filled a glass with water, and saw Zhadeyn return with only a single file in her hand.

  Graeden shut off the tap, lifted the glass with trembling fingers, and flinched as Zhadeyn rushed toward him, knocking the glass out of his hand.

  The glass shattered on the floor, and the Tanasians all jumped back out of the way. Before Graeden could do anything, Zevic rushed over and slapped Zhadeyn across the face and threw her to the floor.

  “Stupid bitch!” he growled.

  “What are you doing?” Graeden yelled at him as Zevic kicked Zhadeyn in the side.

  “Zevic, lay off!” Dr. Keisen shouted over the noise. “She saved his life!”

  Zevic pulled back his fist and looked up. “What?”

  The Tanasian doctor rolled his eyes. “Didn't you hear the sirens this morning? The boilers quit just before prayers. She just saved Dr. Graeden's life.”

  Zevic slowly straightened, his face blank as he tried to control his embarrassment.

  “She could have just said something,” he spat, then turned on his heel and vanished from the room.

  Two men hurried over, covered in gloves and masks as they sopped up the spilled water and swept up the glass, and Graeden crouched down beside Zhadeyn, moving slowly as she flinched away from him.

  “I'm not going to hit you,” he whispered, then paused a moment to study her face. “Thank you, I suppose, if what they said was true.”

  She nodded, hugging her side where she'd been kicked, and scurried away from him without so much as a glance in his direction.

  Graeden watched her go, and slowly exhaled.

  Easy there, Grae, he thought. It's not her. She's not here.

  “I think we got it all,” one of the men said, carefully stripping off his gloves inside-out and stuffing them into a garbage bag. Graeden shook himself and stood, watching as the bag was gingerly sealed and carried away.

  “Alright, so, wait,” Jase spoke up. “Is there something wrong with the water?”

  The other man took off his mask and nodded. “North of Sonekha, the water is fine. But here in Vhais, and south of here, it's poisoned. We don't know why. The water goes through a boiler plant to get cleaned before it's piped out to the city, but the boilers fail all the time. We've got women in the hospital kitchen right now, boiling pots full of the stuff in case they don't get the plant back up soon.”

  Graeden looked down at the floor, no sign of spilled water or shattered glass remaining, and glanced back up at the two men.

  “Just how bad is the water?” he asked.

  The two men shared a look, and one answered, “For those who don't hear the sirens? They die.”

  * * *

  ZEVIC SAW Zhadeyn hurry down the hallway, and stepped out of his hiding spot to follow her. He waited until she turned a corner, then rushed forward, clamped a hand over her mouth, and dragged her into an empty room.

  “What was that about?” he asked in a fierce whisper. “You're supposed to seduce one of them, not threaten them!”

  Zhadeyn flinched and hugged herself. “He was going to drink the water.”

  “You could have just said something!”

  “I…I didn't think. I just…”

  “Exactly,” Zevic fumed, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You didn't think. Stupid woman! Zhadeyn, if you mess this up for us–”

  She flinched again and pressed back against the wall.

  “You remember what I told you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes and watching her tremble. “What will happen to you if you fail in this?”

  Zhadeyn gasped out a low cry and nodded rapidly.

  Zevic let her go and slowly straightened, looking down at her.

  “Perhaps this actually did do some good,” he thought aloud. “He came to your defense, after all. These Agori and their strange ideas.” He turned and spat. “So unnatural. But, maybe you can use that.”

  He took a few steps away, then whirled back and bent close, pointing a finger at her.

  “You remember your place, and your duty,” he growled. “What you want doesn't matter. This is for the good of Tanas, got it?”

  Zhadeyn nodded rapidly again, and Zevic waited, watching her flinch and tremble.

  “Good.” He straightened again and turned away. “Now, get back to work.”

  Zevic strode away, and glanced back to watch as Zhadeyn crept up to the doorway, took a deep breath, and wiped all expression from her face as she continued on her way to the records room. Grinning to himself, Zevic left the hospital and headed for the capitol building, due to give a first report to the Elders on the status of their mission.

  * * *

  ZEVIC FOUND the chairman alone in the Council chambers, the small, old man dwarfed by the immensity of the room. He felt the chairman's eyes on him as he came to a stop in the middle of the room and dropped to one knee.

  Report, Chairman Elder Lacnoshi rasped telepathically. How do you find our Agori visitors, Zevic? Any potential there?

  Zevic nodded and remained on one knee, having not been told to rise. He kept his eyes on the floor and replied, Some, my lord, though it's still too early to tell.

  Whom do you find most likely?

  They all have their Agori ideas, of course, which will be difficult. In particular, though: Dr. Leni seems far too cheerful; he may be difficult to break. Dr. Quinn, on the other hand, seems rather quiet and pliable. We may be able to snare him. Now, as for Dr. Jase, he strikes me as almost…too protective of the others.

  And the last?

  Dr. Graeden, Zevic said with a thinly veiled sneer. He is already proving problematic. Speaks his mind too freely. Too confident in his ideas.

  There was a long pause, and the Elder asked, But?

  But, Zevic began with a nodding shrug, he did respond well to Zhadeyn. Rather, he reacted strangely to her and then came to her defense. I sensed some darkness in his mind but couldn't quite grasp the meaning of it. He paused, lifting his head slightly without fully looking up at the Elder, and smiled. His mind is not as secure as those of his fellows. He may be of Tanasian decent.

  Zevic felt the Elder's rage without being able to see the old man's face.

  Then we must have him back! the Elder growled. Too many of those damned rebels escaped from this Isle. If he is descended from one of them, then he belongs to us! Zevic, you must prove that he has Tanasian blood. Get inside his head. Use whatever means necessary. Do whatever you have to do to break him.

  Zevic shook his head. It won't be easy, my lord. Not for any of them, but I fear especially for him. And I'm not sure Zhadeyn is up for that challenge.

  Then use others, the Elder spat. Ply them with women. Hells, give them each two or four women at once if that's what they want. Just make sure that, by the end of these five months, at least one of them is not returning to Agoran, and that Zhadeyn is with child. Do I make myself clear?

  Zevic nodded vigorously. Of course, my lord.

  A long silence followed, Zevic doing everything he could to remain still while his knee ached and the Elder's anger filled
his mind.

  Very well, the Elder finally said. You may go.

  Zevic bowed his head, turned around as he rose to his feet, and forced himself to keep a steady pace as he strode out of the room.

  Chapter 11

  BY THE end of the day, most of the patients had gone home, with the exception of the man who'd been there from the day before. Graeden checked on him periodically, watching the man mutter gibberish between fitful bouts of sleep.

  “No, no,” the man mumbled, tossing his head to one side. “You have to soak the fabric longer than that or the color will never set!”

  “What in the gods' names is he talking about?” Jase asked with a laugh.

  Graeden bent over the man and tried to examine him, but the man pushed him away.

  “What are you doing?” the patient growled. “We've got work to do! If we don't get this batch of uniforms finished by the end of the day, the Elders will have our hides!”

  Graeden looked up at Jase, who raised an eyebrow in amusement, and bent back over the man.

  “Alright,” Graeden murmured, adjusting the man's IV. “Don't worry, we'll get it done.”

  “Make sure the colors are right,” the man said, his voice fading to a slurred murmur toward the end.

  “We will,” Graeden said, and watched as the man slipped back into sleep.

  “What is going on in here?”

  Graeden sighed and turned around to see Zevic walk into the room.

  “Why are you talking nonsense with him?” the bureaucrat asked.

  Graeden pulled him off to one side and lowered his voice, explaining, “His case is advanced. He's suffering from dementia, amongst other things. He doesn't have long to live.” He paused, and added pointedly, “Without the necessary medications.”

  Zevic looked at him suspiciously. “What medications, precisely?”

  “I've already asked Dr. Keisen for them,” Graeden said, exercising extreme patience, “and I've already been told they're not permitted.”

  Zevic shrugged. “Then find something else.”

  “There is nothing else. Everything that would work to save this man's life is illegal under your laws here.”

  “That's your problem, not mine.”

  “Maybe you need to make it your problem,” Graeden insisted, taking a step toward Zevic and watching the man avert his eyes. “You brought us here to help these people but you won't let us actually do that. The others we've seen today are not far behind this man, but we could save them and help them return to be productive members of society if you'd just get your laws out of our way.”

  “The laws are in place for a reason,” Zevic said through clenched teeth. “They are in the best interests of the people.”

  “So it's in the best interests of these people to suffer and die?” Graeden spat.

  “Dr. Graeden,” Zevic growled, “if you think that you can just–”

  “Grae!” Jase called from the other side of the room. “You might wanna see this.”

  Graeden took a deep breath, glared at Zevic, and turned away to join his friend. He felt Zevic watching them, and bent over the patient Jase was pretending to examine.

  “You're wasting your breath arguing with that idiot,” Jase whispered.

  “Jase, we could help these people if–”

  “Grae,” Jase said with a sigh, pointing at something random on the patient's chart, “it's obvious they're not going to let us do what we know is right. You can argue with him all you want. You're not gonna get anywhere.”

  “But maybe we can get things to change, Jase,” Graeden suggested. “Maybe we can–”

  “Grae, dude, seriously. Just drop it. Let's do what we can and then get the hells out of here.”

  Graeden sighed and straightened up, glancing down at the unconscious patient between them, wishing there were something more he could do.

  “Alright, that's enough for today,” Zevic announced. “You can all go home now.”

  Graeden watched the others gather up their things and throw away their gloves, and looked to Zevic as he said, “I'd like to stay and monitor this patient overnight. Or is that not allowed?”

  Zevic narrowed his eyes at him for a second before he put on a sickly sweet smile. “Be my guest, Dr. Graeden. As for the rest of you–” He turned and looked at Leni, Jase, and Quinn. “I've arranged to have women brought to you this evening for your enjoyment.”

  With that, Zevic turned and left the room while Jase and Leni grinned, elbowing one another.

  “Sure you don't wanna come home, Grae?” Jase asked.

  Graeden shook his head. “Not tonight.” He nodded at the patient. “He's not looking good, and I'd like to be here in case something happens.”

  Jase shrugged. “Suit yourself. What d'ya say, Quinn?”

  Quinn shook his head with a sigh. “No women for me. My girlfriends back home would kill me if they found out.”

  “Girlfriends?” Leni asked, wide-eyed. “As in…plural?”

  Quinn grinned at him.

  “Dude, how'd you get away with that?” Jase asked. “Aren't you worried about them finding out about each other?”

  Quinn shook his head. “Not a problem. We all live together.”

  Jase's jaw hit the floor.

  “Wha– But– How?” Leni stammered.

  Quinn shrugged. “It just works.”

  “Dude.” Leni shook his head. “I gotta find me a couple of girls like that.”

  “And suffer twice the nagging,” Jase teased.

  “Oh, good point.”

  “Sure you're not coming, Grae?” Jase called.

  Graeden shook his head and went to check the patient again while the others headed for the door.

  “So, wait,” Leni asked Quinn. “You get to sleep with both at once?”

  Graeden looked up and chuckled to himself as the three of them left the room. Dr. Keisen nodded to him and followed the others out, and the nurses all hurried away, leaving Graeden alone in the room with the unconscious, dying man.

  He sank onto a stool and leaned his head back against the wall.

  It's just five months, he told himself, taking a deep breath. Five months, and then you can go home. Go home, and start over. And beg everyone's forgiveness.

  Graeden took another deep breath, then started at the sound of a gasp.

  “Dr. Graeden,” Zhadeyn mumbled, hesitating in the doorway. “I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were still here.”

  Graeden blinked, looking at her, and hesitated before he spoke.

  It's not her, Grae. It's not her.

  “I wanted to stay and watch him,” he said quietly, pointing at the patient.

  “Oh,” she mouthed, barely making a sound. After a moment, she added, “I just…came to gather files for processing.”

  Graeden swept his arm out and leaned back again, watching her through drooping eyelids as she gathered up an armful of files, clutching the thick folders carefully as she wound her way around the beds.

  She glanced in his direction, stopped, and looked at him again before quickly glancing away.

  “Have I upset you, Dr. Graeden?” she murmured.

  “What? No. Why?” Graeden asked, sitting forward on the stool.

  Zhadeyn hesitated, biting her lip, and said, “You look at me strangely.”

  “Oh.” Graeden looked away for a moment, then looked back at her and shrugged. “You remind me of someone.”

  “Ah,” she mouthed, nodding once, then started to take a step, hesitated, and went to the counter where she gathered more files as she mumbled, “Not someone good.”

  Graeden opened his mouth to answer, paused while he reconsidered his words, and told her, “There was good in her, but she caused me a lot of pain.” He paused again, adding in a whisper, “And guilt.”

  Zhadeyn quickly gathered a few more files and hurriedly turned away, mumbling, “I'm sorry I disturbed you, Dr. Graeden.”

  “Zhadeyn, wait!” Graeden called, jumping to his feet and hold
ing out his hand, but she was already out of the room. He sighed and shook his head, then checked on his patient again before returning to the stool by the wall.

  He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, both enjoying the silence of the empty room and also feeling unnerved by the eeriness of it. An hour passed while he alternately dozed by the wall and checked on his patient, the unconscious man growing worse by the minute, but no matter how much Graeden searched the room, he could find nothing that would help him alleviate the man's suffering.

  Graeden went to the door and peeked down the hallway, considering a search of other rooms, but to either side he saw armed guards strolling about. Cursing under his breath, Graeden returned to the room and did what little he legally could while the man hurtled toward death.

  “Dr. Graeden?”

  The meek voice was just audible from across the room, and Graeden opened his eyes to find Zhadeyn in the doorway, a steaming bowl cupped between her hands.

  “I…I brought this for you,” she said, walking slowly toward him. “If you're hungry, that is. I–”

  “You didn't have to do that,” he said while she carefully set the bowl on the counter beside him.

  She stepped back and shrugged. “You had no one to care for you, so…”

  Zhadeyn reached around for a water skin hanging from a strap on her shoulder. She rested the skin beside the bowl and dug a spoon out of a pocket on the side before quickly stepping back again.

  “I gave the water an extended boil, just in case,” she murmured, pointing at the skin.

  “Thank you,” Graeden said, watching her as she kept her eyes trained on the floor.

  She nodded once and turned away.

  “Zhadeyn?”

  She stopped, slowly turning back to face him.

  Graeden waited, and when she didn't look up, he asked, “Would you do something for me?”

  Zhadeyn nodded quickly.

  “Would you look at me?”

  Zhadeyn flinched and backed up half a step, and Graeden waited while she slowly lifted her eyes, halting and hesitating all the way, until she finally managed to hold his gaze.

  She blushed under his scrutiny, but managed to keep her eyes on his while he studied her face, relieved to see that the resemblance that had startled him that morning wasn't quite as stark as he'd first thought. Remarkably close, but not exact.