Prince of Luster

by Candace Sams

  In effect, he’d already involved himself and his crew too much. But that was the situation and he was responsible as ship’s commander.

  He hung his head in weariness. Too tired to consider any thoughts of the future, he moved to his bed and sank onto it. Sleep came quickly.

  • • •

  “Commander, we have a problem in the med bay.”

  “On my way,” Darius responded after Gemma’s voice, via the intercom, jerked him from deep sleep. He quickly pulled on a robe and tied it closed as he raced through the passageways.

  Once he was in the med bay, he saw Gemma holding down the struggling Earth woman. Barst and several medical staffers ran into the space a split second later.

  “What’s happened?” Darius asked, maneuvering himself to help contain the struggling Earther.

  “She isn’t breathing right. A bio-scan shows there’s a problem with something in our environment but I can’t detect what.”

  “She was decontaminated when we brought her aboard. All of us were,” Darius quickly asserted. “Wouldn’t that equipment have indicated a problem?”

  Gemma shook her head as she gathered medical equipment on a crash cart. “You need to keep her calm. My job at the moment is to keep her breathing. She went unconscious then awoke again gasping. She’s fighting to keep from suffocating. That’s all I know for sure.”

  “I’ll hold her,” Darius ordered.

  As Gemma moved away, Laurel tried to fight her way out of the incu-unit. He held her down though he could see the effects of horrible pain on her face. She acted as though there wasn’t any air at all in her lungs or she was being crushed under incredible pressure.

  As the others gathered equipment at Gemma’s command, he held the patient down with one hand then used his other one to punch buttons that lowered the sides of the incu-unit. Several more moments of fighting took place.

  In all his life he’d never seen a gasping person so determined to fight for every bit of air they could get. Clearly, she wasn’t ready to give up.

  “Almost ready,” Gemma called out.

  He turned his head to ascertain the staff’s whereabouts. When he looked back at the woman he was pinning down, she looked straight at him. Without enough oxygen in her lungs, she couldn’t speak. But there was fervent appeal in her pure blue gaze as she stared up at him.

  As before, the communication chip embedded in her left temporal lobe made it possible for her to understand his words. He spoke softly, lifted her into his embrace, and cradled her in his arms as he uttered assurances.

  “Quiet … we won’t let you die. You’re safe. You’re among friends and you’ll be all right. I promise. I promise,” he repeated over and over.

  Among the bravest of all acts was her brief nod. With that slight movement of her head, she’d given her trust and was trying to calm down even as the last vestiges of air vacated her body.

  In moments she’d be unconscious again. If the reason for her medical problem wasn’t found quickly his promise of safety couldn’t be kept.

  “Hurry, Gemma! Hurry,” he quietly ordered.

  “Keep talking to her,” Gemma replied. “I just need a little more time.”

  He glared at the med-tech, trying to convey urgency without actually saying anything else. A “little more time” might be all she had. He did his best to keep the fear off his face and out of his voice. “Hang on. Gemma is the best medic in six quadrants. That’s why she’s part of my crew. Just keep looking at me.” The woman responded to his command, though she was beginning to turn blue. He held her closer as Gemma approached with a hypo-injection. What seemed like many minutes since he’d entered the med bay were probably only a few seconds. He was holding onto, and responsible for, a dying woman who’d trusted him to keep her safe.

  “Why is all this paraphernalia going on your emergency tray?” Barst asked as he quickly decontaminated his hands with bio-spray and pulled on gloves.

  “I’m going to sedate her so I can split open her chest,” Gemma explained as she repeated Barst’s actions.

  “What?” Both men shouted in unison.

  “Readings indicate the decontamination unit we brought her through might have wrongly interpreted something she needs to live as dangerous to us. I don’t know what the element was and I don’t have time to figure it out among the millions of permutations that might have taken place. Right now I have to deal with the results. She’s not breathing so I’m gonna fix it!”

  “How could such a thing happen?” Darius asked as he held their patient closer.

  “By all my readings her physiology is almost exactly the same as yours, Commander. Like I already said … there was something in her the decontamination unit didn’t like.”

  Darius quickly lowered the Earth woman to the incu-unit platform again.

  Gemma grabbed her tray, pushed Darius aside, and put an injection gun next to the Earther’s neck, just below her left ear. When the med-tech pulled the trigger, the Earther’s eyes closed. Selfishly, he was grateful she’d gone unconscious. He sent a silent prayer to the heavens that all would be well. Everyone around him shared the sentiment evidenced in the urgency being displayed.

  “Everyone get out of my way and hand me what I need when I say so. If you haven’t scrubbed up, do it now or get out!” Gemma shouted.

  “Have you ever done anything like this?” Barst asked.

  “I’ve studied old holo files of such techniques,” Gemma responded as she worked. “Usually, this kind of invasive stuff is left to specially designed computer equipment in major trauma facilities. But she’s out of time and I’m all she’s got.”

  “The incu-unit can’t do what you require?” Barst asked again as he stepped backward.

  Gemma didn’t respond.

  Darius gazed at Barst. The other man displayed a look of pure horror. He wasn’t sure his countenance didn’t bear the same expression.

  He quickly turned to scrub up as the rest of the med bay staff did. It occurred to him that Gemma was risking her career and imprisonment for doing something so dangerous. Only the best surgeons were ever called upon to open a body. Technology was such that invasive surgery wasn’t the norm. But Gemma had already pulled down the Earther’s blankets, put a laser scalpel to the woman’s chest, and was splitting it even as he stood there putting on a pair of sterile gloves and an emergency mask like everyone else in the space. As she cut, one of the other med staff officers slid a mask on Gemma’s face, from beneath her chin. It was then affixed behind her head. A sterile gown was tied to her chest and around the back of her neck. Everyone in the med bay who had a reason to help was acting precisely as they should. He’d never been prouder of his crew.

  But he still felt impotent. All he could do was watch as blood poured from the new incision in the Earther’s open chest. Techs grabbed replacement units of all-blood from Gemma’s tray, and began infusing them into Laurel via tubes attached to arm veins.

  What if the all-blood didn’t match an Earther’s needs? Was there enough research to support the use of technologically advanced artificial blood replacement when speaking of a lower species such as an Earther? What if the gaping wound and open, beating heart—a heart that pulsed far too slowly now—was contaminated by atmospheric particulate in the med bay? What if Gemma slipped? What if … what if … what if …

  “I can’t believe I just closed one hole in her chest only to open ’er up again,” Gemma angrily muttered as she worked. “That injection I gave her will keep her out as well as stave off pain and infection.”

  “But her oxygen intake—”

  “Was also temporarily compensated for with the injection, Commander.”

  Gemma quickly called out for one piece of surgical equipment after another. Staff around the table acted with time-saving efficiency. He heard the frustration in their voices as they communicated with one another. Each of them was frightened they’d lose their patient. Caring wasn’t limited to whether an injured person’s race was less e
volved.

  Again, his chest swelled with pride. He turned to his second-in-command knowing he couldn’t leave the Earther alone. Her safety was as much his responsibility as Gemma’s.

  “Barst … man the bridge,” he ordered. “We’re moving into uncharted space, someone needs to keep an eye on our scanners. I need to stay here.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll report on any unusual activity,” Barst said, then hesitated before leaving the med bay. “I hope she’ll be all right. Goll has done enough damage. She’d make an excellent witness at his trial. Diplomats would be hard pressed to ignore her account and use their oily machinations to get Gorm’s son free.”

  “Indeed!” Darius nodded in agreement then put his attention back on the surgical procedure and the bloody, open mess that was now Laurel’s chest. He sighed in relief noting how her chest rose and fell more evenly now. Clearly, she was getting oxygen though he wasn’t sure what Gemma was doing with her lungs and heart to increase circulation. Such goings on weren’t his strong suit. In the med bay, Gemma had total control. It was the only place on the ship where everyone, including him, yielded to her.

  “Though I hit her with some heavy meds, she may still be able to hear what’s going on so be careful what you say. Audible awareness isn’t unheard of in these situations,” Gemma softly advised as she kept cutting, snipping, and rearranging organs. “Commander … talk to her while I continue.”

  Darius’s brows rose. He’d just been contemplating a question concerning exactly what Gemma was doing. Instead, he heeded her timely warning and moved closer to the injured woman.

  The gore associated with opening Laurel’s chest wasn’t new to him. The site of it wasn’t particularly shocking. He’d seen many casualties while enforcing laws in his assigned quadrant. But something about watching this backward little Earther lying there in the middle of her own blood and incised body tissue was so pathetic. He tried to come up with commentary that sounded intelligent. Something she’d grab onto assuming she could hear what was being said. He put one gloved hand on top of her head, noting the thick mass of hair as he conjured words of comfort.

  “Don’t be afraid. Gemma will have you right in no time,” he whispered as he lowered his head to repeat the words through the barrier of the mask he now wore.

  As the operation proceeded he actually saw the Earther’s entire body tense. Later, she might not be able to remember what he’d said but right now, he was certain she really did hear every syllable spoken, just as Gemma had warned. He got the distinct impression she’d have reached for a hand to hold had she been able to move.

  “Just a few more moments,” Gemma relayed as she glanced between her surgical handiwork and holographic status updates generated by the incu-unit. “Okay. That’s got it. I’ll laser-suture the incision. The unit should remove even the smallest trace of the scar.”

  He recognized the sparkle in his med-tech’s bright gaze, and heard the exaltation in her voice. Apparently, she was satisfied with her skills in saving her patient’s life.

  “She should start breathing deeper soon, sir. Her heart rate is already going back to its original speed. Of course, I don’t know what normal is for her. I’m not that up on Earther vital signs but since her biology is almost identical to Lusterian specs, I think it’s safe to say she’ll be just fine.” Gemma pulled off her mask as the incu-unit walls rose around her patient.

  Other staff in the med bay sighed with relief and congratulated their head surgeon on a wonderful job. Darius simply stood there trying to hide such utter relief as to be nonsensical given his short acquaintance with the injured Earth woman. She’d fought so hard to live. As on the planet’s surface, she’d displayed one more instance of utter courage.

  He glanced at the patient and considered the creamy skin of her full breasts and perfect proportions of her body, as it’d been fully exposed when Gemma pulled the blankets back to make her initial incisions.

  When one of his other crewmen caught him essentially gawking, he cleared his throat and turned guiltily away. That medical assistant snorted in amusement while pulling clean, thicker coverings over the injured woman’s body.

  “I … I was just thinking her physiology and mine might be similar for a reason,” he defended. “Lusterian researchers speak of ancestors visiting many worlds in ancient times, before a ban was ever initiated regarding planets that were too backward to be exposed to higher technology. Earth might have been one of those planets. It seems logical to assume some of my home world’s travelers might have intermingled with various populations, thereby producing entities whose physiology is similar. Even compatible.”

  “That’s quite true,” Gemma maintained as she took off her gloves and bloody surgical apron before handing them to a nearby attendant for sterilization. “Unfortunately … our decontamination unit didn’t see the similarities, only the differences, Commander. The decon-unit actually damaged alveoli in her lungs. That’s what I was repairing.”

  Gemma moved away from the incubation unit, and the presence of staff still cleaning and caring for Laurel. She crooked one finger and Darius bent to hear what she’d say.

  “Sir … I had to add a third lobe to her left lung, move some veins and arteries around and reconstruct them. Primarily, I moved her heart to the back and center of her chest to accommodate the larger lung system.” She briefly glanced back and moved further away from Laurel’s resting space while lowering her voice. “The thing is … I can’t undo what I’ve done. Not without killing her. To put her back the way she was would cause her to strangle in our atmosphere, just like you saw. She couldn’t diffuse our air for more than a short time … a couple of hours at most.” Gemma shrugged and shook her head in confusion. “I can run a thousand tests and never know exactly what the decontamination unit did. I really don’t understand it since our atmosphere is so very close to Earth’s. That being said … she’d be a medical miracle back on her home world. She could survive there with what I’ve done. In fact, her breathing there would be vastly improved. But once her chest was examined she’d never be left alone. I don’t have to tell you that her current physical state would in no way resemble her former one. Any youngster with a basic knowledge of anatomy would know there was something very wrong with the placement of her chest organs!”

  “But … you said she can survive this way … right?”

  “Oh, yes, sir! She’ll be fine. The prognosis is great. In fact, no one from an advanced civilization would question the procedure. But, like I’ve said, an Earth physician—”

  He raised one hand to stop her. “This shouldn’t have happened, Gemma! That decon-unit is supposed to protect us, not destroy the body tissue of other races!”

  Gemma shrugged and shook her head. “Maybe someone higher up knows this is exactly why we shouldn’t be engaging Earth citizens. But I stand by my decision to bring her aboard.”

  “That’ll be my problem—”

  “You won’t have to answer for it alone, sir. Whatever’s said or done in regards to her presence, I’ll be with you. It was as much my call as yours.”

  He ran one hand through his hair. “I’m sorry to say her return to her home was always a moot point, despite this sudden turn of events.”

  “Sir?”

  “I had orders to categorically stay away from Earth once Goll was caught and restrained. I can’t countermand them for any reason, not without risking serious consequences for the entire crew. The law in this regard is standard League code.”

  Gemma snorted and sadly nodded. “I never really believed the admiral or any other official would give us permission to take her back, including the unusual circumstances. I just hoped I might make a case on her behalf.” She shrugged. “Not to dwell on the obvious but … she’s not going to like it. I wouldn’t.”

  “I wonder if all Earthers would have been as damaged by our decontamination unit,” Darius mused.

  “I don’t know, Commander. We may never know. We’re on our way home and that’s the way
things are.”

  Gemma put one hand to the back of her neck and tilted her head left then right.

  “You’d better get some rest. I’ll stay with the woman,” Darius offered as he walked to the incu-unit and stood to one side.

  “You’ve barely had enough sleep yourself, Commander.”

  “Yes, but I’ve had some. When your patient comes out of this unit I fear you and your staff may need all the energy at your disposal. There’ll be many questions to answer.”

  “Aye, sir. The instruments on the unit should alert you to any problems. Call if you need me.”

  “Good evening,” Darius uttered as he watched Gemma walk out of the med bay. He took one last look at the patient then settled back in a nearby examining chair to get some rest. Thoughts of home filled his mind. But then his contemplation turned to Goll.

  Unspeakable loathing filled him. He tried to tamp down feelings of vengeance but it was no use. But for their prisoner’s sire, life would have been vastly different.

  There was a point when harboring such vengeance would have been unthinkable. Something told him that once Goll was dispatched, the emptiness wouldn’t heal.

  For the minutes the execution lasted he’d have some satisfaction. After that, he wasn’t sure of anything.

  “I’ll watch you die like the blood-sucking, soulless bastard you are!” he whispered. “Any race that would take a child’s life deserves the worst punishment.”

  Bitterness filled him to the brim. It threatened to spill over and drive him to the prisoner section of the ship to do the deed now. It took everything he had to make himself stay right where he was. He mentally repeated his oath to watch the Earther.

  No matter how he tried, sleep escaped. It’d been replaced by thoughts of the past, a past he couldn’t undo.

  His hands gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles went white. For some reason, all his attention went back to the unit and the woman therein. At least one other on this ship would feel as he did. At least one more soul would have a reason to see Goll dead.