Mr. Hollin said. "They're bringing the first batch from Firstep any minute. He held Annia's hand between his and rubbed the back of her fingers against his chin.
Annia opened her eyes. She said, "Liam, you look terrible. Go to bed." She turned her face toward Mr. Hollin and closed her eyes again.
Annia did not need him to protect her. She had Mr. Hollin and Cho'en. Maycee did not need him. Liam was tired. He had already sent his runners to sleep at the control center with Ms. Stamos. He might as well go home. He found an aisle to go to the outer door to the street, but he had not got all the way to doors before a human voice said, "It's here," and the gaeans all around him erupted in a great clangor of bell voices mostly saying, relief/weary/relief.
The humans in the room surged toward the open space where gaeans and humans from Maycee's family came and went like the flicker of an eyelid. In the middle of the open space, a pair of gaeans appeared with a stack of crates between them and one of Maycee's relatives with a data reader in his hand. Humans and small gaeans like Cho'en ran to the crates. They each grabbed one and carried it to the stairs or the lifts.
More of Maycee's relatives grabbed crates and pulled them open right there on the floor. They got out medical gun weapons and the very first thing they did was to put the medical weapon to their own necks and fire into themselves. Then they turned around and fired the weapon into the neck of the nearest human lying on the floor.
A human who looked like Maycee with red hair grabbed Liam by the arm. She said, "You look all right. Start hauling those crates upstairs."
So Liam hauled crates. First, he carried them up the stairs to the second and third floors of the hospital. Each time he brought a crate, med-techs snatched it from his grasp and tore it open. They loaded the vials of seething, golden liquid into their medical weapons and injected the human patents with it.
Later, the red-haired Maycee told him to carry crates out to the street where more humans started firing medical weapons into sick ones. Some of the sick ones tried to fight over the crates, but Liam saw how to load the medical weapons, so he started opening the crates and loading the first cartridge and shooting the nearest humans. Then he could give the weapon to one of those he had shot, and they would shoot all the others.
He finished with a crate, made sure all the humans were shooting each other quietly and turned around. He wanted to get a crate for his runners at the communications post. He saw Julla, the tall girl with long hair who liked Fist. He waved for her, and she came. "Come get medicine for runners," he said. "Where is Fist?" Julla was usually near Fist.
She shook her head. "Infirmary. Gregos went into a burning warehouse to get a trapped catpil. He got stuck, too. Fist got burned getting him out. They're not hurt very bad," she added quickly.
Liam put his hand on her shoulder. "You do good work." He would tell Gregos about being stupid and not following orders. Gregos was young and careless.
Liam got a crate for Julla and one for himself. He sent her straight to the infirmary so she could be with Fist the way Liam wanted to be with Maycee. He would take his crate to the runners with Ms. Stamos.
He lifted his crate and went toward the doors. Halfway there, Maycee flicked into the space beside him. She said, "There you are," and shoved a medical weapon under his chin. She pulled the trigger, and he felt it sting. She disappeared, then came back again. "And go to bed. You look terrible." Then she was gone.
Tora stopped him in the lobby and looked him over. "Sleep cycle," she said. She needed a sleep cycle herself. Her face and arms were burned, but she was the lieutenant, and she would not eat or rest until her soldiers were safe.
"Medicine to runners," he explained.
She nodded. "Sleep cycle for runners, too."
Fighting had stopped in the streets. At least the fires had distracted the Marines soldiers from fighting humans. The Admiral Hirshorn had made them fight fires instead. The runners slept on the floors of the communication hub with blankets and pallets the soldiers had brought them before the fighting started. The runners had left empty food wrappers on shelves and tables, so Liam knew they had eaten. Ms. Stamos lay in the middle of the room sleeping while Mr. Pente hunched over the communication unit on its table.
Liam set his crate on the floor. He nodded toward Ms. Stamos. "How long sleep cycle?"
"Hour," Mr. Pente said.
Liam did not like to wake Ms. Stamos, but he wanted to get all his runners treated with the cure. He shook her until she woke, then showed her how to load the medical weapon. "I've got it, Chief," she said. "I can do most of these before they even wake up. It's your turn to get your head down for an hour or two."
When his runners were safe, Liam went home. Part of the fence around the campsite was burned and shattered. He went in through the gate anyway. Inside, Lize raised a medical weapon with the golden liquid seething inside. Liam shook his head. Maycee had already given him Annia's cure. Many of Tora's soldiers were at the camp. Liam knew Ms. Bettuanne, Mr. Bracxs and Mika. They were standing at the table where they had placed a big animal carcass that was scorched and hot. Mr. Bracxs had one arm in a thick gel bandage. With the other, he used a laser cutter to carve meat from the carcass and pile it on Maycee's best favorite plates.
Ms. Bettuanne waved to Liam. "There you are, Chief. We found a grazer carcass in one of those burned warehouses. Colonel told us to set up a cafeteria."
More soldiers came through the gate behind Liam and went to the table. Someone slapped Liam on the back. He looked and saw a black uniform. The black-uniform soldier said, "You did good work out there."
Fist sat on the deck outside Maycee and Cho'en's shelter with his back against the fence between the two lots. His face and arm were smeared with gel from the burn he had taken when he went to rescue Gregos. Julla curled against his side with her head on his shoulder.
Liam climbed the stairs and went into Maycee and Cho'en's shelter. The Jordan-Kyle lay on a pallet, and so did four humans Liam had never seen. They had been injured too badly to go home after the medics treated them. Liam lay down on Maycee's old mattress and pulled her blanket over him and fell asleep.
#
Tora came back to the camp under the first hint of dawn, scorched and reeking of smoke. The fires were all out, and the black-uniforms had set a fire watch. They were better rested than Tora's people. The disease enemy at the hospital was being defeated, and Annia was cured but still very weak.
Tora's face and neck were blistered from falling ash, and a bad burn on her arm wept and crusted over with yellow fluid. It hurt very badly, and it was hard to ignore now that all the fighting was over. She had gone to the hospital to see if Annia or Cho'en would repair her, but Annia had been sick, and Cho'en was busy fixing more sick humans. The weapon to fight the disease enemy had come to the hospital while Tora was there, and the disease enemy took priority over Tora's injuries.
She opened the gate and saw the camp crowded with people. She had told her soldiers to set up a barracks for the soldiers who were still fighting, but she had not told them to come here. She hurt, and she was tired. She could sleep even through the pain in her arm if the humans would leave her alone.
She had come in through Maycee's gate. To get to her own shelter, she would have to cross both camps. A well-carved animal carcass lay on the table, and someone had started the cook fire and stirred up a pot of stew. Humans carried plates and bowls of stew from the fire to a makeshift trestle table with lanterns hung around it. The stew smelled good, and hunger competed with pain and weariness, but she could not bear to jostle among the humans for food, so she passed the table with her eyes fixed on the far shelter.
Ms. Bettuanne saw her. "Colonel Miraz," she said. She spoke too loudly, and her attention was not really on Tora. "Colonel, I just wanted to tell you how proud I've been to serve with you. Your word, Colonel. Any time you say." She clapped Tora's shoulder and gave her a nod, but she was looking past Tora at someone else.
Other people came to Ms.
Bettuanne's voice—soldiers from Tora's command. "Your word, Colonel," they said, or "Proud to serve, Colonel Miraz."
Human show of loyalty. They were her soldiers, so Tora tried to keep a face of human courtesy, but she wanted only to get away. She pushed through them, trying to escape their attentions without offending. Fortunately, they seemed not inclined to cling to her, only to touch once and speak a few words in her presence then move away.
On the other side of the lot, she saw Mr. Ventnor with his hip propped against the edge of the deck on which her shelter rested. A few of Tora's soldiers stood near him. He was laughing. He did not see her.
Tora picked up her pace. The other lot was not so crowded. Medics there took care of people who had been injured not very badly, but injured humans did not jostle and crowd like hungry ones. Once she got to her lot, she could go inside and lie down. She got almost to the gap in the fence before she heard General Baldwin speak her name. She turned around.
Baldwin met her with a proud smile and clapped her shoulders with both hands, jarring her burned arm. "I'm glad to see you back safe. Did you find Solante?"
Tora scowled. "Escaped. Low priority." Mr. Ventnor said the Solante had gone to ground and no one would find him tonight. Tora thought that was how the Solante would fight; by sneaking and hiding.
Baldwin said, "His daughter is gone as well. She probably went with him."
Tora shook her head. The Medea was hunting the Solante. When she found him, one of them would kill the other.
The Admiral Hirshorn came from behind General Baldwin. Tora did not like for the Admiral Hirshorn to be in her camp. She should be able to come here and find only her friends and soldiers.
The Admiral Hirshorn human held out his hand to Tora. "Ms. Miraz, your people performed admirably tonight. It's too bad they lost control of the civilian population, but that was probably inevitable."
Tora had not lost control of the humans. The Admiral Hirshorn had lost control of his Marines soldiers, and many, many humans had been hurt. None of the runners or Tora's soldiers had reported anyone dead, but they could not be sure until there had been time to count everyone who had not died from the disease enemy.
Tora did not want to touch the Admiral Hirshorn. She did not want to be allies with him, but this was another kind of fighting; pretending to be allies with people you would rather fight. Tora put her hand against his. She had little strength left in that arm. It was hard to close her fingers, and the quick shake of linked fists hurt.
A Marines lieutenant came through the gate and raised his hand to the Admiral Hirshorn human for attention. The Admiral Hirshorn excused himself. Tora thought he was as glad to go away as she was to get rid of him.
General Baldwin remained behind. He said, "You did a good job in my absence, Tora." He tried to put his hand on her shoulder. Tora moved away. She hurt too much for touching, especially if he was touching her the way he had touched the Cerise. Tomorrow or the next day, Tora would find Ms. Bucki from her Civilian Support Corps, and she would tell General Baldwin that Ms. Bucki should help him find out how to use the Civilian Support Corps.
General Baldwin said, "Admiral Hirshorn is appointing me to act as interim governor of Murrayville until conditions stabilize here. I'll need you to run the militia for me until I can step down."
Tora would make sure General Baldwin stayed away from her soldiers. Ms. Bucki would help with that, too. She nodded. "I am Command for militia."
He nodded. "I know I can count on you to support me. Now get some rest. You've earned it." He clapped her on the shoulder again, making her cringe, and finally, he turned away.
"Colonel." A different hand on her other shoulder—this one firm but careful—stopped her before she left her place by the fence.
Mr. Ventnor cocked his head at her. He flipped the object he held in his hand and caught it again. He held it up for her to see: a medical weapon like the doctors at the hospital used to kill the disease enemy, but the cartridge in this weapon was clear, not the golden yellow of the disease cure. He cocked his head to make a question, and Tora nodded.
Mr. Ventnor set the muzzle of the weapon against the inside of her elbow and squeezed the trigger. Tora felt a sting and a cold sensation. Then the pain dropped away. It felt so good, she leaned all her weight on the fence and closed her eyes.
"Don't nod off on me, Colonel. You're too heavy to carry."
Tora heard Ms. Bettuanne's voice. "I'll take one side if you'll take the other."
It felt good to lean her weight on her friends and let them carry her to the platform under the shelter in Tora's lot. Mika brought her a plate of stew. Mr. Ventnor dressed her arm with disinfectant foam and a thick coat of gel. For once, humans were quiet and did not bother her with words. Then Liam came out of Maycee's shelter, looking heavy-eyed, and Mr. Ventnor greeted him with a nod, and the other soldiers called him "Chief" and slapped his shoulders.
That was good. Liam had made the runners very useful during the fighting. Now that Maycee was well and did not need him to guard her, Tora wanted Liam to be Command for the runners all the time.
Tora's catpil Dot clicked for food and caresses. A few sneakdillies flapped overhead, but the fires had frightened most of them into hiding. Mr. Ventnor leaned against the deck beside her. "Baldwin's putting you in charge of the militia?"
She nodded. "You will be my lieutenant."
A smile curled one side of his mouth, and his heat warmed Tora's side, easing her bruised muscles and soothing her temper. "Your word, Colonel." Maycee was leaving.
Cho'en was going with her, of course, and Maycee had talked Liam into going as well—not that he was reluctant to be with Maycee, but Tora had put him in charge of the runners' network, and he didn't like to leave them. She had finally tempted him with an invitation from Taha and Heth who were fascinated by his facility with numbers and patterns.
Cho'en trotted up the slope to Annia's side. She ducked her huge, elegant head to a level with Annia's face. Affection/kind-and-kin. "We will miss you."
"Yes." Annia stroked the golden muzzle.
"We will come back soon. My clinic needs me."
"Take care of them both for me," Annia said.
Assent/assurance. "They are my family. You are family also."
Annia stroked the golden muzzle again. She wanted to say, "You're my family, too," but the words choked her throat shut because they were going away and leaving her behind.
Cho'en bumped Annia gently with her head and went to help Maycee finish piling their little bundle of belongings at Liam's feet.
Maycee said, "For mercy's sake, Annia, it's only three weeks, and if you need us for anything, you can get word to me through one of the gaeans at the hospital."
"I told you I'm fine."
Maycee laughed. "As soon as we're gone, you'll be thrilled to have the camp to yourself, and you'll be sorry to see us when we get back." She startled Annia by taking her face in her hands and kissing her cheek. "You know you will."
She stepped back between Cho'en and Liam. The clone was frowning as if he wasn't sure whether he should try to protect Annia from her bad mood. She forced herself to adopt a more cheerful expression if only to reassure him.
"You know you will," Maycee repeated as she waved a hand at Annia. A moment later, all three of them disappeared.
Annia stood for several minutes watching the place where they had stood as if their leaving had been one of Maycee's jokes, and they would reappear at any moment. But they were already at the warren on Gaea being greeted by Taha and Heth and friends they hadn't seen for two decades. Annia's annoyance resurged.
She paced the campsite, stooped to pull a few weeds out of the garden, but bending made her dizzy. Her phage had wiped the plague out of her system, but the virus had done a lot of damage to her tissues in the few hours before she got the cure, and she tired easily.
She opened both gates to let in some of Murryville to make her feel less lonely. People had started putting the shantytown
back together almost before the fires were out. She thought about cooking something for dinner, but that depressed her. She had never cooked until coming to Yetfurther, and the only reason her cooking wasn't worse than Maycee's was because she always made the same eel stew and never experimented. If she got hungry, she still had emergency rations in storage.
She didn't expect Tora home for dinner, either. Tora had more or less abandoned the shelter at their camp. The clone had never had personal possessions apart from her clothes and uniform, so moving in with Mr. Ventnor was just a change of sleeping habits. Given the proclivities of the XX222s, it was probably healthy for Tora to establish a relatively normal relationship with someone she identified as her soldier.
The rest of the time, Tora was preoccupied running the militia and helping General Baldwin set up a provisional city council at Solante's house, which had been commandeered as a headquarters for the new government.
Ganymede Solante had disappeared. Mr. Hollin's friend at the spaceport didn't know about any private ships jumping atmosphere from the spaceport or anywhere else on the planet. Maybe Solante had found a way to escape Yetfurther undetected. Maybe he had some other lair to hide in until the Union-wide quarantine on extra-planetary travel was lifted.
Tora hadn't been bothered by Solante's disappearance. "Medea enemy is gone, too," she had said as if that resolved the issue. The father was motivated by money, power and sadism. Medea Solante had hatred and a lifetime of brutality to drive her.
Even Elizabeth-Belle and Jordan-Kyle had gone. With the virophage data propagated from one end of the galaxy to the other, Cyrion had allowed Elizabeth-Belle to arrange transportation for Jordan-Kyle to one of the hospitals in the city where they had space and equipment to repair his broken back.
That left Annia alone in the two big lots. After a lifetime of barracks and dorms, she should have been ecstatic to have so much space all to herself. Instead, she felt lonely and lost. Her plague research had given her purpose and occupation. The clinic had given her some human contact, but at the moment, she was too weak to work at the hospital, and she had no other close friends, no one she could impose on for company.
Farenough: Strangers Book 2 Page 33
