Endurance

by Richard Chizmar

  Later that day I lifted my face from the electroniscopic scanner and let Zella and Vlaav have a look.

  “I’ve seen something like this before.” The Saksonan peered again into the viewer. “Is it a microbe?”

  “Give the intern a cigar.” I shut off the scanner and rubbed my fingers against my tired eyes. “They all have bacterial meningitis.”

  Zella gasped. “Assassinate us, the beasts mean to.”

  “I don’t think so.” I sat down and studied the reports. “Vlaav, start the patients on the intravenous cephalosporin antibiotics, compatible with their individual species.”

  The nurse wasn’t finished. “Poisoning us, they are—”

  “Nope. It didn’t originate from tainted food, or we’d all be infected. Something else did this.” I decided not to tell them I’d never seen this particular microbe before, and that it didn’t register on the medsysbank. Bad enough I was shaking in my footgear. No need to start a panic.

  “Their side, you would take.”

  “If I had, poisoning you would be number one on my list.” I switched off the scope. “Prep for a postmortem.”

  The autopsy on Wonlee’s wife took nearly two hours, but I wanted to go slowly and rule out every other possibility. I knew Mareek had died of meningitis the moment I cut away the swollen meninges—mucosal exudate clogged the sulci fissures in the brain surface, and scanning revealed a massive release of proinflammatory cytokines in the basal cerebral arteries.

  However, confirmation of cause of death was all I got from the autopsy. Nothing Mareek had ingested had caused the disease. Comparative scans of the survivors revealed that only two had eaten the same food within the last twelve hours. The others had been served a variety of meals, all based on their species requirements.

  The worst part? I found no trace of the microbe in her corpse.

  I performed spinal taps on the survivors, and verified that each of them had been infected with the bacteria. The microbe itself was very odd. The hexagonal-shaped bacteria possessed a tough outer cell hull unlike anything I’d ever seen. The dark green-colored wall darkened a few minutes after removal from the body, and completely concealed the cell nucleus. It resisted all my attempts to probe the interior as well.

  Since the bacterium causing the meningitis could have been introduced to the victims through a wide variety of means, I was back to square one.

  “So it didn’t come from what they ate.” I stripped out of my gear, handed Zella the data pad with the forensic analysis, and yawned. “I can’t think straight.”

  “Sleep, you go to.” Dchêm-os annotated the appropriate chart, “One of the beasts for you, I will send, should they change, the females’ conditions.”

  “Why are you suddenly being so helpful?”

  “My friends, they are,” Dchêm-os said.

  Right. Had nothing to do with me, of course. What was I thinking?

  I waved at a guard to escort me back to my chamber, but he didn’t budge. “Come on, I’m tired.”

  “OverMaster HalaVar instructed us to allow you unrestricted movement,” the Hsktskt said, and handed me a trustee’s tunic.

  I wondered why. “About time. I’m sick of wearing yellow.”

  I walked over to my room and found the door panel slightly ajar. That didn’t sink in for a few minutes, until I sat on my pallet and realized who was missing. “Jenner?”

  He was gone.

  Since I’d been given unrestricted access to the compound, I didn’t bother going to the Hsktskt about my missing pet. I looked myself, starting with all the chambers in proximity to my quarters.

  I know I left that door panel shut, I thought as I peered in room after room, around and under anything that would conceal a small feline. If I hadn’t, and a hungry centuron found Jenner first …

  My pace quickened, along with my fear. I ran down the rows of prisoner cells, and pretended not to hear the angry jeers. A search of each tier’s commons turned up nothing.

  Where was he? What happened to him?

  This was all my fault, I decided as I hurried into a corridor I hadn’t taken before. If I hadn’t let Jenner run loose on the Sunlace, he wouldn’t have wandered out of my quarters here. I’d given him too much freedom, and not thought about the danger that posed.

  A forbidding weight collected under my sternum. Oh, God. If I lose him, I won’t have anything left.

  The corridor arrived at a bewildering enclosure spiked with innumerable quasi-quartz columns rising from the floor. They were smaller and more tightly packed than the tower structures. It transformed the interior to a huge, glassy labyrinth.

  I stopped. If I walked into the glittering maze, I might never find my way out. “Jenner?” I called out in a low voice. “Pal, are you in here?”

  Something on my right made a scuffling sound, and I hurried around the pillar. And nearly stepped on the two adolescent Forharees entwined together on the floor.

  “Hey!” The teenagers sprang apart and scrambled to their feet. “What is it with you two?” I looked around and lowered my voice. “Haven’t you ever heard of holding hands?”

  Kroni’s beak arched with indignation. “We would rather die—”

  “—’together than live apart.’ You told me before, I know.” I tossed her trustee tunic at her and made a shooing motion. “I swear, I’m going to inject both of you with chemical inhibitor myself. Get back to your tiers, now.”

  I waited until the grumbling kids hurried off, then pushed aside caution and walked into the labyrinth, calling Jenner’s name again. The central pillars had grown in tightly fitted rows, which made navigating the corrugated walkway a challenge. A few times I had to squeeze through narrow gaps to continue on.

  “Jenner?”

  The sound of a strange Terran voice made me freeze. “Stay where you are, dope.”

  Astonishment left me mute. There were no other humans on Catopsa except Reever, and he barely qualified. I’d even verified it through the database. So who was this guy?

  I got my answer when a slim, brown-haired Terran male dressed in a slave tunic appeared from around a corner. He had a narrow, clever face and the biggest, softest green eyes I’d ever seen. In his hands he held something wrapped in cloth, which he handed over to me.

  “Who are you?” I took the heavy bundle and gasped when it moved. “Jenner?” I unwound the cloth and exposed silver fur. “Is he all right?” It took another minute to uncover him completely. He was unconscious, his regal head lolling against my breast. “What happened to him?”

  “Shhhh. He tried to do a bunk through an exterior hatch and made a right hames of the job.” The Terran kept his voice low as he scanned the walls around us. “Sure and I was trying to do the same thing myself.” He touched my arm tentatively. “Slàinte, dope. You’re the first blessed Terran I’ve seen in ages.”

  “Then why are you calling me a dope?” I wanted to know.

  “Dote, not dope.” His hand stroked my arm, then Jenner’s head. “It means ‘lovely little person.’ Grand to see you, dote.”

  I was so preoccupied with examining my cat that it took a minute for his words to set in. What of them I could understand. “I checked the database, there weren’t any other Terrans currently listed among the prisoner population.” Then I noticed the stains on his tunic. “Are you injured?”

  “Did it arseways, this.” He tugged at his tunic, then gave me a grin so brilliant that it rivaled the crystal walls. “Coddling my own death, and the gammy thicks fell for it.” He curled his fingers around mine. “Gael Kelly, from Clare.”

  I returned the warm grasp. “Cherijo Torin, from New Angeles. Clare? That’s in the Celt Republic?”

  He gave me a charming grin. “The very same. Now, dote, I don’t suppose you’ve be having any scran on you?”

  “Scran?”

  “Rashers and poppies. You know, food?”

  “Oh. No. Sorry.” I performed a visual; he was on the thin side. “How long have you been hiding here?”


  “Ages.” Gael kept smiling, but his constantly darting gaze made me uneasy. “Got to find myself a new kip. They’ll be inspecting this section soon, and I’ll have to scatter.”

  No one inspected my chamber, and I had enough room in my storage unit to conceal him. “If you can lead me out of here, I think I can help.”

  “Grand.” Gael pointed in a different direction from the way I’d come in. “Follow me, dote.”

  We got back to my quarters without being stopped or questioned by the Hsktskt guards. Recalling what Zella had done for me onboard the Perpetua, I wrapped Gael’s head with the extra cloth and had him make a pretense of leaning on me.

  “Don’t say a word, and they’ll think you’re just another of my patients.”

  “You’re a patcher?” He sounded incredulous. “Sweet Mary, a wee dote like you?”

  “Yep. A wee dote like me.” His fascinating speech patterns were far too distracting. “Let’s go.”

  There was no one to observe us as we went into my quarters, and I had Gael slide into the storage unit. Then I went to my prep unit and dialed up a substantial meal for him. I couldn’t program “rashers and poppies,” whatever that was, so I made some simple synpro and vegetable stew, and plenty of synwheat bread to go with it.

  “Here.” I handed him the tray. “Eat this. Stay out of sight. I’m taking Jenner over to the infirmary to check him out. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He was already chewing, and had to talk around the food in his mouth. “I thank you for your kindness, dote.”

  Dchêm-os wasn’t please to see me, and her ire deepened when she saw who I was carrying. “Dead, is it?”

  “No.” I placed Jenner’s limp body on an exam table and started an internal scan series. “He got loose and ran into something that stunned him.” Normal readings, and no indication of injury or trauma. Finally, I could take a deep breath.

  Vlaav appeared. “Doctor, what happened to your animal?”

  I repeated what I’d told Zella. “Update me on Wonlee and the meningitis cases.”

  “All are on the prescribed antibiotic therapy and seem to be stabilizing. Lieutenant Wonlee discharged himself voluntarily.”

  “Stubborn male.” I made an exasperated sound. “The minute I turn my back, too. He’d better stay away from Shropana and Devrak.”

  “That you caused the females’ illness, there are rumors.” Zel’s cheek pouches puffed out.

  “There are rumors that I’m a Hsktskt in a Terran skinsuit, too.” Vlaav’s close proximity started to annoy me. “Something else, intern?”

  “I’ve collected a number of small parasites from patients’ bodies.” He held out a specimen container with some tiny black things jumping around in it. “With your permission, I’ll dissect them and determine if they carry the meningitis microbe.”

  Vlaav had one-upped me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of parasitic infection. “Excellent. Do it right away. I want a full report sent to OverMaster HalaVar as soon as you’re done.” I picked up Jenner and regarded my colleague. “Include in the report that I am advancing you to first-year resident status, if you would, Doctor.”

  The Saksonan’s facial hemangiomas swelled so fast that a couple popped. Embarrassed, Vlaav blotted himself with a sleeve, then bobbed his head. “I’m very honored. Thank you, Doctor.”

  Zella made a disgusted sound, and I faced her. “And you, madam, will show Doctor Irde the appropriate respect.” Her vibrissae quivered, but she nodded, too. “I’m going to take Jenner back to my quarters. Signal me if there is any change—”

  “Remain where you are, Terran.”

  The sound of that rasping, insinuating tone made me cringe. I forced my spine to straighten as I confronted the two Hsktskt who had walked into the infirmary. FlatHead and one of his buddies. It was, apparently, my lucky day.

  “Did you need treatment, centurons? Other than psychiatric evals, I mean?”

  As GothVar advanced, I handed Jenner to Vlaav and stayed where I was, trying to look undaunted. The closer he got, the harder it became to breathe.

  No, I couldn’t descend into another panic attack. I won’t let him do this to me. He’s nothing more than an overgrown bully. I’m not afraid of him.

  “We will escort you to your quarters.” He seized one of my arms, his friend clutched the other, and they towed me out of the infirmary.

  I didn’t fight or say anything. Doing either would have only made it worse. No, I was going to concentrate on remaining as calm and collected as possible. Gael would hear us come in and stay out of sight.

  FlatHead positioned his mouth by my ear. “Have you thought of me, Terran?”

  I contrived an expression of wide-eyed confusion. “Gee, no, I haven’t. But then, I haven’t felt queasy lately, so that’s understandable.”

  His grip tightened from hard to pulverizing. “You will feel more than that, soon.”

  I bit my lower lip as we arrived at the door to my quarters, and FlatHead yanked it open. No sign of Gael, but I thought a verbal cue might be prudent.

  “Why the personal escort, OverCenturon?” I asked, deliberately loud. “Run out of slaves to kick around?”

  FlatHead paused, long enough to give me hope, then addressed the other beast. “Search it.”

  The centuron pulled Gael out of the storage unit a few moments later. GothVar regarded him with unblinking yellow eyes.

  “HalaVar will be very interested in speaking with this one. Administer standard discipline, then take him to the OverMaster. I will see to the female.”

  “She had no part in this business, you slimy jelly-boned bollocks!” Gael spat at the Hsktskt’s feet. “Lay off her!”

  “Administer special discipline for disrespect to my rank,” was all GothVar said.

  “You can of piss!” The Terran gave me a last, sympathetic glance before the centuron hauled him out of my chamber, leaving me alone with FlatHead.

  I scratched my head, trying not to laugh. Can of piss. “Gee, wonder how he got in here?”

  “You lie. Willfully concealing a slave makes you subject to discipline.” Flathead reached out, ripped my tunic from neck to hem, then pulled it off. He didn’t look at my body, only my arm. My right arm. “As I thought.”

  No. Not again. “Wait!”

  He didn’t. He flung me on the pallet, and rooted through my medical case until he found the suture-laser.

  All reason left me as I rolled over, keeping my right arm between my body and the pallet. “I told you that won’t work. It doesn’t work on me!”

  Claws ripped across my flesh as I was yanked onto my back. Two heavy limbs descended on my upper arm and wrist. Straddling me with a third, FlatHead activated the laser and held it an inch from my nose.

  “This time, I will char your bones.”

  He would, too. Enraged at his grotesque determination and my own terror, I followed Gael’s example and spat in his face.

  The suture-laser, designed to knit together torn flesh, had a beam twice the width of a lascalpel. The first touch sent unbearable searing pain along the surface of my skin, and I tasted blood as my teeth closed together with a snap.

  Why did my nerves keep regenerating? Couldn’t Joseph have deprogrammed those, too?

  “Watch how I mark you, Terran.” GothVar slowly moved the beam over my smoldering flesh an inch at a time. “See how easily you burn.”

  I didn’t want to look at him, at my arm. The horrible pressure of his weight holding me down was nothing compared to the gathering force squeezing the air from my throat. A whistling sound reached my ears while my vision hazed over. I could smell his breath mixing with the fumes from the beam. If I choked on my own bile—

  “OverCenturon. Release the Doctor.”

  Reever? I gasped for air, for anything that would allow me to call out to him. The heavy weight lifted from me, and I was hauled to my feet.

  “She concealed an escaped prisoner here, and removed her PIC again. I corrected
this.” Flathead shoved me to my knees. “She plays you for a fool, HalaVar.”

  “Does she?” Reever came to stand over me.

  A strange Hsktskt I’d never seen before joined him. “OverCenturon, OverMaster.” He gazed down at me with considerable interest. “Slave, extend your arm.”

  I used my good hand to wipe the blood from my mouth, then smiled with relief as the constriction in my lungs eased. “Go stick your head in a disposal unit.”

  The unknown Hsktskt latched his claws on to my arm and held it out so he could examine it. “You said you just applied this PIC, GothVar, did you not?”

  FlatHead grunted out an affirmative.

  “She heals quickly.” He let go, and I cradled my wounded arm to my chest. “Have her sent to me once discipline has been administered.”

  The way he looked at me—who was he?

  “That will not be possible, Lord.” Reever gestured to two of the centurons he’d brought. “I have decided on her discipline. Confine her in the isolation pit.”

  I was back, right where I started, only the amenities weren’t quite as comfortable this time.

  The isolation pit was a deep recess in a remote corridor, down which the Hsktskt centurons dropped me via a grav-hoist. Too deep to escape—I figured they lowered me a good fifteen feet before I hit bottom—and without anything to soften my fall. Nothing in the pit, I discovered, but me, bloodstains from my injuries, and six smooth, inescapable walls.

  Pain kept me from passing out, so I sat for a long time, holding my burned arm away from my body, and considering the possibilities.

  Reever might just leave me here to die, I thought, which would be a fairly horrible death. It would take days, possibly weeks for starvation and dehydration to kill me. The chilly interior, like the cell on the Perpetua, wasn’t cold enough to induce hypothermia, even if I removed all my clothes to hasten the process. Too bad.

  Eventually I dozed off, the fresh burn making my sleep restless. Every time I moved, it sent a sizzling jolt of new pain through me, which brought me halfway out of slumber. The cool, white light produced by the deep layers of quasi-quartz didn’t help much, either.