She nodded in approval. They discussed the details of the fight for a while, until Eshel noticed that Catherine’s face no longer looked happy, that she said little.
“You are experiencing pain again?”
She nodded.
Eshel got up and retrieved her small container of medication. He handed her a pill, which she drank with her tea. He quickly scanned her with the medical scanner the doctor had loaned him. Her readings had improved slightly, but still weren’t acceptable.
“You don’t have to take care of me, Esh,” Catherine said. “I’m fine.”
“You are not fine.”
“I am. I feel much better.”
Reminded of Tom’s failed attempts to persuade Catherine when she was resolute, Eshel, despite knowing he was in the right, tried a different tactic. “Perhaps. But it is better to be cautious.”
She argued no more, only resting with her eyes closed for a few minutes.
“Catherine.”
“Mmm,” she replied, her eyes still closed.
“You said you saw two Korvali on the train.”
She opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times. “That’s right. I did see them.” She cocked her head. “When did I say that?”
“In sick bay. What did you see?”
Catherine recounted what she saw.
“Did you take an image?”
“No.”
Eshel looked at her. “Catherine, if you see any Korvali again, do not speak to them, do not let them near you, and never let them isolate you from others. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, her expression curious. Her relaxed look returned as the medication began to work. “How is Commander Steele treating you, Eshel?”
Not expecting the question, Eshel hesitated. “He is… it is fine.”
“Good,” she replied in a soft voice, her pace of speech about half its normal speed, a faint smile on her face. “When he became your genetics liaison, he was so concerned… so concerned about you and me. He wanted analyses I’d done… scans… emails between you and I… the file with your genetic material... I told him I had none of that, that we hadn’t talked after that morning in sick bay… but he didn’t believe me. He even threatened me, saying that if I were lying, or if I or Holloway or Varan ever questioned you, he’d send me back to Earth!” She didn’t sound angry, but merely relayed the information as if it amused her. “Nystrom incident, my ass. It was almost as if he wanted that information for himself… not that he’d know what to do with any of it…” She looked at him, a gleam in her eye and her smiling broadening. “I have permission to be mean about him, you know. He’s mean to me. After catching us at the lab that one night, he banned me from going to the lab after hours. I was working on an exploratory epigenetics project… it’s your fault for inspiring me…” She smiled at him. “Don’t tell him I said that. I have a concussion, fractured ribs, and pains in places that shouldn’t hurt… I don’t need more trouble.”
Eshel did not respond.
“Did I stumble onto the wrong topic again, Eshel? You looked away… like the time I mentioned Othniel… your father… when we first met. I’m not in everyone’s business, like our good friend Tom. I just want to know more about you, whatever you want to share.”
“You may ask me anything.”
She giggled. “You said that too, when we first met.”
Surprised, Eshel said, “Your memory is very good.”
“It’s not like yours… but, yes, it’s good. When Tom and I argue about past events, he always believes I’m being stubborn. But it’s not stubbornness… I just remember everything better than he does.” She paused. “Did something happen to your father, Eshel, on Korvalis?”
Eshel was silent for several moments. “Yes. He was murdered.”
“By whom?” Catherine asked, her sleepy eyes narrowed.
“By someone powerful.”
“Someone from your own clan,” she surmised.
Eshel nodded.
“Does this powerful person know that you know?”
“He does not,” Eshel replied. “But he will.”
Catherine looked away, staring up at the ceiling. “Hard to say which is more unjust,” she mused. “Losing a parent at the hands of a horrible person, or losing a parent at the hands of a horrible disease with a genetic origin.”
Eshel, not understanding what she meant, waited for her to elaborate.
“My mother,” she said. “She died, during my first year at the Academy. Breast cancer.” She briefly touched her left breast. “I can tell you which therapies they tried and recount every protein, chromosome, locus, and nucleotide they targeted… but I don’t want to put either of us in jeopardy, or anger the old man who controls my every move as a scientist.”
“You may tell me,” Eshel said. “I will say nothing to the Commander.”
Catherine told him the details about her mother’s cancer, from the initial genotype screening to the failed attempts at gene therapy. Eshel listened, Catherine’s story making clear sense, even in her current state.
As afternoon moved into evening, and evening into night, they talked. At some point during a conversational lull, Eshel saw that Catherine had fallen asleep. He scanned her, used the head, and lay down on the deck. He nodded off, waking every few hours to scan her and ensure she was recovering. At 0400, satisfied with the scan’s results, he returned to his quarters.
As the starting time for the Day 3 fights grew near, Eshel hadn’t heard from Catherine. He knew she’d prefer attending the fights to sleeping, no matter how tired, so he went to her quarters to wake her. When he walked in, she was dressed in her personal apparel and she had wet hair. She must have just finished bathing. He looked closely at her; her face appeared worse than it had previously, as the bruising had grown darker. And while she seemed more lucid than she had, she looked tired. He pulled out his borrowed medical scanner and scanned her.
“Am I all better, Doc?”
“You are improved, but not yet well. What do you feel?”
“Foggy. The shower helped. I ran over my allotment, which means no shower tomorrow, but it was worth it.”
“Do you have your ticket?”
“Ticket?”
“For the fights.” He noted her forgetfulness, making sure to monitor it over the next several days.
“Oh. Yes. It’s stored on my contactor. But I need to eat, Esh. I’m starving.”
Eshel hesitated. “We will be late.”
“I’ll grab something at the arena.”
On their way out, they saw two male crewmen heading toward them. One struck the other with his elbow and pointed at them. Eshel ignored it, until he realized they pointed at Catherine, not him. One crewman flashed a sign that Eshel did not understand, while the other said, “Nice fighting, LT,” as they passed. When Eshel turned to observe her reaction, he saw that she smiled.
Once on the train, Eshel scanned the area carefully before finding a corner in which he could kneel down. He saw nothing of concern. At the arena, they joined 30,000 others as they filled the seats surrounding the circular ring. Higher up in the stands, several very large screens projected a larger image of the ring to the audience.
When they found their seats, Catherine looked at him. “They’re in awe of you.”
“Who is?”
“Everyone. They’re staring.”
“Today, they stare at you, not me.”
When Tom, Snow, Middleton, and Zander arrived, Eshel and Catherine stood up to let them pass. Tom smiled at Catherine, shaking his head and putting his arms around her in what Eshel had learned was a “hug.”
She cried out. “Watch the ribs!”
“Ah, quit your whining,” Tom chided, as he sat down in the seat next to hers.
“Nice shiner,” Snow said.
Middleton gave him a wary glance and nodded at Catherine as he passed by. Finally, when it was Zander’s turn to pass them, he spread his arms out.
Catherine smile
d. “Not too hard, Z.”
Zander gave her a gentle hug. “Nice fighting, Dr. F. When you took that Neuter to the mat… that was awesome!” He looked at Eshel and grinned. “You want a hug too?”
Eshel only smiled.
“Hey, C,” Tom said. “You made the news!”
“What?” she said in disbelief.
Before he could finish, Zander had pulled Tom’s attention elsewhere.
After numerous rounds of fights, some exciting and some very exciting, Eshel waited until much of the crowd had dissipated before leaving the arena. The others assumed he did so because he disliked crowds. While that was true, he had a more compelling reason: smaller crowds meant fewer people to keep track of. Tom and the other men waited as well, to honor the Captain’s wish that he be protected, especially on that particular day, when Catherine was unprepared to do so.
As they exited the arena, large crowds of Derovians still gathered outside in the large stone courtyard, enjoying the waning sun. Some excitedly talked about the fights, while others moved their bodies about in strange ways to music, something Catherine called dancing. Derovians often seemed to be dancing. He spotted a few Sunai, but they were not watching him. Instead, they held instruments, creating the music that the Derovians danced to. Others stood by drinking rallnofia, a beverage that Eshel found palatable but that made him feel strange if he drank too much of it.
In an eager desire to be near the music, many Derovians darted around Eshel, separating him from the others. Eshel felt his temperature rise and his vision blur slightly. He reached for his canteen; it was empty. He quickly moved away from the crowd, feeling a small bit of fresh air circulate past him as he spotted a water station nearby with a circular blue symbol, indicating it contained a dispenser for the water humans needed. After filling his canteen, he took a long drink and felt himself cool. He knew he must hurry and find the others, as they couldn’t see him behind the water station and would worry about him.
When he turned to leave, he was surprised to find two people standing behind him. They were Sunai males dressed in black trousers with pale rust vests, exposing their dark arms. Gumiia. Non-military Sunai males of low status. Eshel immediately recognized one of them from the day he and Catherine were attacked. He did the first thing that came to mind, something Catherine had taught him: he took his fist and aimed for the Sunai’s eyeshades, hoping to catch him by surprise and escape in that direction, where only five paces would render him visible to the crowd.
The attack did surprise the Sunai; his eyeshades didn’t break, but having them jammed into his eye temporarily disabled him. However, the other Sunai reacted quickly and encircled Eshel with strong arms. Eshel expected the first Sunai to strike him, but he didn’t; instead he angrily growled something Eshel didn’t understand and fumbled with an object he didn’t recognize.
They had a weapon.
Eshel felt the small metal disk in his own hand, which he’d retrieved from his pocket upon sight of the two Sunai. He pressed the release button.
After mere seconds, the Sunai he’d struck stopped fumbling, appearing dazed. The strong arms that imprisoned him became slack and he easily released himself from the Sunai’s grip. Eshel turned and looked at him, presumably the one who’d grabbed him from behind before, whose face he hadn’t seen until now. He wore the same dazed expression.
Eshel emerged from behind the water station. The crowd had thinned somewhat, but still contained enough people heading in the direction of the train station to offer him some protection. He couldn’t see Catherine’s red hair or Tom’s fair curls anywhere. He followed the others, taking another drink from his canteen.
“Eshel!”
Eshel saw Catherine and Tom emerge from behind a cluster of trees. He scanned the area to see if the gumiia had followed him. But they were nowhere to be seen.
April 8
Hi Dad,
So I guess you heard about the CCFs. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it ahead of time. I never thought the fight would make the news, and I didn’t want you to worry. Please don’t give Tom a hard time either; he did his best to talk me out of it and even used you as an argument, but I told him to keep his big mouth shut. I promise I’m still alive and—other than some broken ribs and a concussion—healthy.
But I have to say, Dad, you taught me well. Your street fighting tricks kept my head above water, probably more than my martial arts training did. No one expected me to even survive out there, and not only did I survive all three rounds, the judges called a draw. A DRAW, Dad! The Calyyt have certainly earned their reputation—I had to use every weapon in my arsenal just to stay alive out there, and my opponent wasn’t even one of the best fighters.
Yes, he (He? Why haven’t we come up with a gender-neutral pronoun for these people by now?) took a shot at me after the final bell. I thought that kind of thing didn’t happen anymore, so I didn’t see it coming. It was a pretty cheap shot, resulting in the worst of my injuries, and, as you probably saw, it made me madder than you can imagine. I punished him for it, but even though it satisfied my ego at the time, it didn’t make me feel better. The organizers penalized us for fighting after the bell and for engaging in illegal maneuvers. We’re banned from the CCFs for six Earth months. People are already talking about a rematch after the ban lifts (we’ll be encamped at Suna then, so easy enough to get a transport), but I’ve already decided I’m not interested. I got it out of my system and proved I could do it, so I have no need to do it again. Tom and Snow, who were both very resistant to the idea of my competing at all, now can’t understand why I won’t take the rematch and beat him for good! Eshel understands, though.
Oh… I just got a message from Commander Steele. He wants me in his office immediately. That can’t be good.
Let me know what’s happening with you…
Love,
C
P.S. The emitters are down, so no holo-chat for a while.
11
Catherine braced herself as she approached Steele’s office. She was tired, injured, and bruised… maybe Steele would go easy on her. She entered, saluted her commanding officer, and stood in her usual spot in front of his desk, knowing that he wouldn’t ask her to sit. Steele glanced up at her, but continued reading something on his electronic pad. Several minutes passed; Catherine waited, refusing to speak or otherwise indicate her presence. She knew this game and was prepared to stand there all day, if necessary.
Finally, Steele spoke. “You may recall, Lieutenant, my rather stern warning about the consequences of discussing genetics with our Korvali crewmember, Eshel.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You may also recall that violation of that order would result in your being sent back to Earth.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Then perhaps you don’t value your position here, on this ship,” he said, staring at her with cold blue eyes.
“How so, Sir?”
“I have reports that you violated this order.”
Catherine felt her stomach jump, a slightly sick feeling coming over her. Her mind flashed back to a somewhat foggy memory of the previous evening, of her conversation with Eshel. Catherine began to speak, but hesitated, unaware of any response that wouldn’t make things worse.
Steele continued. “I’ve reported your infraction to Captain Ferguson and Commander Yamamoto. They will deal with you.” He leaned back in his chair. “I knew from the moment Eshel arrived on this ship that you couldn’t be trusted. You don’t deserve your post.” He turned away. “Dismissed.”
Catherine left, fury building in her as she walked back to her quarters. Her contactor chirped again. Yamamoto.
Fuck.
Catherine slowly made her way up to the seventh deck, her stiff and tired body resenting having to climb the stairs, her mind too preoccupied to acknowledge those she passed. She arrived at the XO’s office, pausing before she walked in. She took a couple of deep breaths. Finally, she entered and saluted.
“At ease, Ca
therine. Sit down.” Once she eased herself into the chair, he began. “Your commanding officer has spoken with the Captain and myself about his concerns that you’ve potentially violated the Alliance’s rule about discussing genetics with Eshel.”
“Yes,” she replied, doing her best to keep the anger out of her voice. “The Commander just told me as much.”
“Did you discuss genetics with Eshel?”
She sighed. “Last night, when I was on pain meds, I told Eshel the details of my mother’s cancer diagnosis and failed treatment, which… which were genetic in nature.”
Yamamoto asked her to elaborate. Her mind still foggy, she did her best to recount what she’d said during her medicated and fatigued state.
“Did you talk about other topics pertaining to genetics?”
“No.”
“What did Eshel say in response to what happened with your mother?”
She thought for a moment. “Nothing at all. He just listened.”
It struck her how cold that seemed. She realized that Eshel hadn’t encouraged her to speak about her mother out of friendship, but did so merely out of scientific curiosity. And now, when under fire, he’d broken his promise to her, divulging what she’d told him in order to protect himself and his own interests.
“What else was discussed?” Yamamoto asked.
She shrugged. “The fight. Normal stuff. Perhaps a little about my frustration with Commander Steele.”
Yamamoto sat in his chair, studying her. “What brought up the topic of your mother?”
She could tell that Yamamoto was looking for something. “I don’t recall…” Then it came to her. “Wait. I do recall. He lost a parent too. His father.”
The Refugee Page 12
