Martin relaxed a little. Wary as he was of the unknown aliens who disguised themselves as Bucons, his inquiries had established that the crew of the Raptor spent most of their time looking for sources of Rust rather than dealing in it. They were victims of Sagouran Fever as much as anyone else. Besides, Linch’s giving him free run of the ship had allowed Martin to discover something that might prove useful. Before Roxy could answer, Martin reached over and put his hand over hers. “Do I have it?” He glanced at Pyr. “Does he?”
Roxy reached her other hand across the table to touch Pyr—or Pyr moved to touch her. The gesture was so swift and automatic from both of them that Martin couldn’t tell which one was the instigator. For some reason, he found himself exchanging a look with Linch. The other elf, or whatever he was, showed more amusement than concern. Yeah, well, he’s not married to Roxy’s sister, Martin thought. He could picture himself going home and breaking the news to his beloved wife that her little sister was carrying on with one of the more dangerous pirates from Rose border. Then again, after Eamon, Reine might not mind Roxy’s new model all that much. He deliberately turned his mind away from thoughts of home and family.
“You don’t have it. Either of you.”
“That’s comforting.”
She took her hands away from them, and went on with brisk professionalism. “I have no research data on this, of course, but my educated opinion is that Rust does inhibit the likelihood of contagion, at least in an enclosed environment.”
For all that Commander Braithwaithe would rather that they not share any information with these unknown aliens, Dr. Martin Braithwaithe encouraged her line of thought. “I don’t suppose that we’ve developed an immunity?”
“Not likely. It must have been tailored so that immunity isn’t an option. My guess is that if somebody onboard stopped taking the drug, you’d be reinfected. And that they’d die, of course.”
“Tailored?” Linch asked.
Pyr caught the reference as well. “That’s an odd way to describe a plague. Drugs are tailored.”
Roxy turned her attention completely to the pirate captain once more. “Diseases can be tailored as well. Sagouran Fever is not a naturally occurring disease, as I only recently discovered. Rust and Sagouran Fever were tailored from the same base. They work together. Trying to keep anyone from finding this out was why Persey killed every researcher at the hospital on Bonadem. With that information and samples of Rust, it shouldn’t be too hard to find a cure. And why aren’t the two of you looking surprised at this?” Roxy asked as Pyr and Linch gazed at her calmly.
The two of them looked at each other. “We had our suspicions,” Pyr admitted. “No proof.”
“Our ship’s doctor was talking about researching the idea,” Linch added. He played a sad riff on his ligret. “But she died before she could.”
“I’d love to get my hands on the bastards who came up with this,” Martin said.
“I intend to,” Pyr told him.
Roxy said, “I’d like to have met poor Antis Sagoura, myself. If I’d been called in fast enough, I could have managed a far more thorough autopsy than the meddroid who handled the cadaver.” She laughed when Martin gave her an anxious look, and patted him on the arm. “I know all about that time that Reine managed to communicate with the dead, but that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
“Good.” Martin just barely managed not to shiver. “That was too spooky for me. Who was this Sagoura? How’d he get the plague?”
“How was he given the plague is a better question, and by whom. The bio that came along with the autopsy report wasn’t exactly full of details. We know that Sagoura was a scrap dealer with an unregistered ship that died after coming out of a salvage belt in the WDS sector, and that his last words were something like, ‘I die meek and blessed.’ His physiology was pretty standard. We don’t know planet of origin, just that he was religious and that he met enough people on his travels after he was infected to get the plague rolling in the United Systems. I’m assuming from what you told me that the plague was developed somewhere in Bucon space. I doubt it was done under Bucon government auspices.”
“Of course not,” Martin spoke up.
“If it was, it hasn’t turned out as they planned,” Pyr said.
“The last I heard, the Bucons were still dragging their heels about letting researchers into the area Sagoura’s ship had been salvaging,” Roxy went on. “But it would be stupid for the perpetrators of this crime to have their lab in the same spot where they let loose their Typhoid Mary.”
It was obvious that Pyr picked up on this alien saying when he asked, “Can it be possible for one person to do so much damage?”
“Accidentally? Or did Sagoura volunteer to die for the cause?” Linch added. In an aside to Pyr he said, “Pilsane isn’t here, I’m thinking deviously in his place.”
“He’ll appreciate your filling in.”
Martin kept his attention on Roxy. “MedService is sure that this Sagoura was the first person who was known to have contracted the plague? I don’t know anything about the history of this thing.”
“I thought you traveled as her assistant,” Pyr said. “That you are her brother-in-law.”
“He is,” Roxy explained. “He joined me on Bonadem.”
“From where?” Linch questioned.
“I was on Terra before coming to Bonadem.”
“With news for the koltiri about the plague in Bucon territory.”
“He is married to my sister.” Martin was seriously annoyed at the wicked, teasing smile she gave him. “My older sister.”
That the woman had accidentally given him a cover that might aid their escape, and was now intent on blowing it to amuse Pyr, was infuriating. Or maybe she was doing it to distract Pyr. He hoped this was proof that she didn’t trust the alien completely, because Pyr was looking at him in a way that was far too alert and insightful. “Let’s stick to important issues, Physician Merkrates,” Martin suggested. “Such as your stopping the epidemic. You have the opportunity to do that, Physician. She’s a Physician,” he added to the pirates. “Which is better than being a koltiri for eradicating Sag Fever on a massive scale.”
Roxy tapped her forehead. “I stuffed my head full of every scrap of information we had on it before I went off to Bonadem and lost my mind. Fortunately, I have my brain back. Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about it onboard the Raptor.”
“There’s a supply of Rust, and there is a medical lab on board this ship,” Martin told her. “I’ve had a look through it. It’s not that well equipped, but a Physician should be able to manage.”
“Martin, the best minds in the United Systems are working on this. What I need to do is—”
“You have one of the best minds in the Systems.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “Right. What do you want me to do, save the universe with a hairpin?”
He tilted his head to one side and looked her over critically. “Reine could do it.”
She leaned back in her chair and pointed at him. “That’s cruel.” She laughed again.
“Sibling rivalry,” Martin explained at the hard look he got from Pyr.
“Works every time,” Roxy admitted. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.” She glanced at Pyr. “With the captain’s permission, of course.”
Pyr sat back and watched Roxanne interact with the boy—who was clearly no boy. The Terran’s manipulation of Roxanne was obvious, and affectionate, but Pyr still didn’t like it. Had it not been for Roxanne’s amusement at her brother-in-law, Pyr would have done more than frown with annoyance at this Martin from Terra. And what was the connection between Martin, Roxanne, and the Bucon ambassador to the United Systems? He still had many questions for both of them, but the prospect of Roxanne’s formulating an actual cure for the plague right here and now excited him. And why not? He had vowed his clan would stop this thing, and Roxanne was acknowledged of Kaddani. “I claimed you for your healing gifts,” he answered her.
“And it will keep the two of you out of trouble,” Pyr added with a warning look at Martin. “You will not be leaving the Raptor anytime soon, so you might as well stop putting out feelers to my crew about a mutiny.”
Martin was neither surprised nor frightened. “I agree that finding a cure for Sagouran Fever is top priority at the moment.”
Pyr doubted that the cure was Martin’s absolute top priority, but at least it was second on his list. “I think you are wise enough to do what you can where you can,” he said to the Terran. He looked at Roxanne and said, “How much Rust will you need? What else can we do?”
Roxanne tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lips for a moment. “I need Rust, of course, but…” Her attention was very much turned inward as she went on. “Dr. Callen suggested I work with the virus from the inside out—study it as a scientist while I was inside people healing it. I’ve never tried that before, but if I could actually do it…” She shrugged. “That ought to speed up the process somewhat.” She looked around hopefully at the three men who watched her. “Don’t you think?”
Linch put down his ligret and stood. “You need a volunteer to be healed,” he said, without bothering to look toward Pyr. He gestured toward the door, and the medical lab, Pyr supposed. “I would be honored to be your first patient, woman of the Kaddani.”
Roxanne bounced eagerly to her feet, and Martin rose as well, but Pyr put his hand up before the trio could leave. “A moment.” He keyed his communication’s bracelet. “Pilsane?”
“Yes, Captain?” the navigator’s voice came back.
“I’m told that there are a number of Bucon naval ships in the area.”
“Yes, Captain. I’ve been passing the time running identification checks on everything our scanners pick up.”
“Commendable. Would I be safe in assuming that the largest, fastest, and most heavily armed of those naval ships is the flagship of Admiral Ral Manalo of the Monolem family?”
“Yes, Dha-lrm, that assumption is correct.” There was admiration in Pilsane’s cool voice. Roxanne looked at him curiously. Linch smirked. Martin had no expression at all, and that lack of expression was most telling.
“You think Manalo is hunting for us?” Pilsane inquired.
“I don’t flatter myself,” Pyr answered. “But he’s looking for someone, and I know who it is.” He smiled possessively at Roxanne. “Contact Manalo,” he ordered Pilsane. “Tell him that I would like to introduce him to the koltiri Glover was sent to the United Systems to fetch for the emperor. Lucky guess,” he added in an aside to the wide-eyed Roxanne.
Martin swore. “I doubt you’re just going to let us get on with our assignment,” he added as Pyr got to his feet.
“I will let you heal the emperor,” Pyr told Roxanne. “But not until after Manalo helps me occupy Robe Halfor’s stronghold.”
Martin was seething, but Roxanne threw back her head and laughed. The sound elated Pyr. A solution was finally in sight. Axylel would be home soon. He let himself hope for a moment, and shared a look of open optimism with the woman who should have been prisoner and pawn. The fire he saw in her eyes promised a fight, but for him rather than with him.
“More devious than Martin,” she told him. “I’m impressed. You’re good.”
Her voice was deep and rich and sultry. He did not think she meant to sound that way. He knew he did not mean for his own voice to sound teasing and seductive when he answered, “You have yet to learn how good I am.”
———
“What?”
The furious look Martin gave in response to her question didn’t help Roxy’s headache any. She’d known Commander Braithwaithe wasn’t at all happy with her and the whole situation when they accompanied Linch to the sickbay, but now that they were alone she figured he’d want to talk about it. Her head ached because she had healed Linch as soon as they’d set up some testing protocols. It had not been an easy healing, not that the combination of plague and Rust ever was, but this one had been complicated by Linch’s telepathy and her own quest to learn what she could of the disease and drug she fought. She’d been quite pleased that she’d managed to come out of the healing and dictate information to Martin before passing out.
He was glaring at her when she woke up, exhausted and with a blazing headache. He glared at her while he gave her protein injections and a cup of coffee. She sat on the edge of the sickbay bed now, cradled the warm cup in her hands, and said again, “What?”
———
Martin felt about as petulant as a sixteen-year-old, which he supposed, hormonally, he was. He shook his head, and forced himself back to his usual equanimity, but it wasn’t easy. “All right, we’re getting the chance to accomplish our mission” he said. “We’re getting what we want, but I hate that this pirate is using us in his play to take over the Bucon Empire.”
“What you want, you mean.” Roxy shoved the coffee mug back into his hands. “I have yet to agree to heal the emperor, if you recall. And Pyr’s not trying to take over the Empire.”
“Are you sure?”
“No,” she had to admit.
Martin put down the cup and crossed his arms. “Go ahead and convince me you aren’t going to do anything this Pyr wants you to do, oh woman of the Kaddani.”
Roxy hopped off the bed to face him. “The name’s—Shirah,” she said, after a painful hesitation. “And at least nine-tenths of my loyalty is to the United Systems. Seven-tenths,” she added, after another pause.
The numbers were not reassuring. Martin stood back and looked her over closely. She had recovered quickly after healing, both physically and mentally. He knew one possible cause of such sudden resilience, and he didn’t like it a bit. He knew how Reine drew energy from himself and Rafe and Betheny. “Are you bonded to this elf?”
“No!”
The denial came too quickly. When she tried to turn away from him, he grabbed her by the arm and spun her back. “Sting.”
“Not bonded,” she said. She turned, squeezed between Martin and the bed, and went to the sickbay’s computer station. He came to stand nearby and watched her work for a while. Eventually, Roxy looked up and admitted. “Sort of linked. Proto-bonded.”
“Engaged?” Martin suggested.
“Oh, God, yes.” Roxy pounded a fist on the top of the workstation. “It isn’t as if either of us wants this.”
Martin knew very well why telepathic links happened. Bonds were even worse; well, stronger. That kind of connection had nothing to do with want, and everything to do with need, and not on any conscious level. So, whatever Pyr needed, Roxy had, and Pyr complemented her. If caught soon enough, the condition could be corrected. He hoped so, because it was very disconcerting to see those two creatures of fire together. He put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Our little girl’s engaged to an elf?”
“He’s not an elf.”
“Pirate, then.”
“He’s not that, either.”
“He’s not exactly Robin Hood, Roxanne.”
“I thought you were eavesdropping back in the common room.”
“I heard some of that stuff about protecting his people,” Martin conceded skeptically. “Sounded very patriotic, but the fact is, Pyr finances his operation by raiding and pillaging. He’s a pirate. He’ll do what he has to.”
“To save his son. Did you overhear that part?” Her fierce need to defend the pirate almost overwhelmed Martin’s distrust of Pyr. “Wouldn’t you do anything you had to for your child?” she demanded. “You are expecting a son yourself, remember? Put yourself in Pyr’s place.”
“No. I won’t do that. I can’t. I don’t blame him. From his point of view, he’s doing the right things, but I can’t let it matter.”
“Why not? Not everybody is our enemy, Martin.”
“I assume they aren’t friends until I’m ordered otherwise. That’s my job. You can’t let yourself trust him, Sting.”
She whirled
around to face Martin. “And what have we been driven to do to protect the Systems? Our solution for the Trin doesn’t give him any reason to trust us. And I don’t trust him, Commander,” she added. “I just—”
“Love him?”
She made a helpless, futile gesture. “Doesn’t matter, does it, Commander?”
“No, Physician,” he had to agree. “It doesn’t.”
“I think,” she said, “that we have a lot of work to do.” She turned stiffly back to the workstation.
Martin moved to take the place next to her. The ship’s late doctor had been Terran, and Linch had seemed genuinely fond of her.
At least he sounded that way when he told them he’d pillaged the regulation Systems medlab equipment they were using as a present for her. They worked quietly and efficiently together for a while, Physician and doctor. They ran tests and simulations, checked data, exchanged insights, suggested new areas of investigation. The work was almost exciting and engrossing enough to eclipse the tension between them. He couldn’t help but notice her occasionally glancing toward the door.
Eventually she pushed her chair away from the console, stood up, and stretched. “Time for another volunteer, I think. Why don’t we call in that nice engineer-torturer and let me save his life.”
Martin turned his chair around and looked her over carefully. “You up to another healing?”
“I feel fine. Actually,” she admitted as she rubbed the back of her neck, “I feel like shit and I think a little fading to black will do me good.”
“You want to be unconscious?”
“No. I want to kill something. Taking on Mik’s fever and addiction will do. Why don’t we give him a call?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Good morning.”
“Is it morning?”
“On this ship it is.”
“The mighty one has spoken.” Roxy felt warm and safe and not alone. This was not a feeling she was used to when waking up from a difficult healing, and she allowed herself a few more moments to savor it, eyes closed and mind free, Pyr’s essence surrounding her like a dark velvet blanket. Pyr’s hand was on her shoulder, large and warm and outrageously comforting. She knew they were alone in the sickbay, and that it was hours after she had performed a healing and given Martin more information about the basic structure of the Sagouran construct. Apparently it had been good news, as the last thing she recalled was Martin whooping with joy before everything went black. She sighed, reveled in the feel of the sickbay bed beneath her, and said, “I’ve actually been asleep.”
Gates of Hell Page 23
