by neetha Napew
Mindless? Seductions? My overloaded nerve cells made it hard to put the words together. They made no sense.
Then they did. He was referring to the only time we’d had sex. When the Core (by rendering him mindless) had forced him to take me. To rape me, however reluctantly. My lungs expelled a ragged breath. Reever was comparing this to that!
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Is this all you want? To have intercourse with me?” His voice was absolutely frozen. So were his eyes. I must have hallucinated all that heat before. Maybe he’d spiked my chicken noodle soup when I wasn’t looking.
Wanton desire became cold-blooded fury. “Right now? Of course not, Reever. I thought we could discuss the League negotiations in the Tuyhui Quadrant. What the hell do you think?”
“What sort of stimulant did you program into the prep unit?”
I stared at him, aghast. He thought I’d spiked his soup. “None!”
“Then you merely want to have sex?”
Ah, I got it. He needed a bunch of words. “Yeah, I do.”
“Do you expect to find satisfaction in this?”
“Do you expect to be breathing in another five minutes?” I struggled. “Get off me!”
He kept me pinned beneath him. “Why me, Cherijo?”
“Good question!”
“Why not one of the Torins?”
“Take your damn hands off me.” When his grip loosened, I shoved him away and rolled off the mattress. “God, Reever, you know how to choose your moments.”
I stalked over the viewport and stared at the stars. I was trembling. Duncan Reever had me trembling.
“Why don’t we do this another time?” Never again. Ever. I’d commit suicide first. No, I’d kill him, then I’d commit suicide.
“What is wrong with you?” he said. “You are never like this.”
“How would you know?” I got snide. “The only time you had sex with me, an alien life-form had to take over your brain first!”
“I could do this.” He sounded cruel; another first. “I could touch you, take what you offer. I could use your body, Cherijo, until you couldn’t move from that bed from exhaustion.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Saw behind the mask of his face. All that passion simmering. Waiting. He denied me that.
I jerked my head back toward the viewport. Made my voice as nasty as his. “Promises, promises.”
“Cherijo. Look at me.” When I didn’t, he came up behind me and spun me around. “I could do all those things, but that is not why I came here.”
“Oh, really? Funny, I thought that was the whole idea. Why are you here?”
He only shook his head. “I won’t be used as a substitute.”
“As a substitute for what?” I pushed him away from me, and flung my hand toward the sleeping platform, “Do you see anyone there, Reever? No. Heard of me sleeping with anyone else? For your information, I’m not.”
“The Jorenian males remind you too much of Kao Torin.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” I pushed a handful of loose hair back. “Jorenians bond for life, remember? No wedding, no sex. I get involved with someone, next thing you know, I’ll be picking out names for our kids!”
“A Torin would expect you to bond with him.”
Was he deaf? “Yes. Yes!”
“So to avoid commitment, you chose to take me as a lover instead.”
That wasn’t the case at all. So why did my jaw drop open? Had I chosen Reever because I’d feel no obligation? Because he was human, not Jorenian? No. He was twisting my emotions to suit his perceptions. Obviously this was the wrong approach. Maybe reason would work better than screeching.
“Look, Reever, we’re adults. We can make this work-“
“Based on what?” Reever folded his arms. “You have no feelings for me.”
I could have lied, but I didn’t. “I-care about you.”
“You don’t know me.” He walked to the door panel, then paused. “Notify me when you are interested in more than my physical convenience.”
It was a great exit line. Out he went.
I was unexpectedly, absolutely enraged. An empty server flew at the door panel, but it had already closed. I picked up another server and tossed it anyway. The crashing sounds they made were music to my ears.
I wanted to tear something apart. I wanted to hammer something into dust. I wanted to-
Sit down and figure out why the hell I had completely lost it.
I reached for my scanner, sat on the edge of my sleeping platform, and ran an initial series on myself. My heart, pulse, and respiratory levels registered well over normal range. I was angry; it could be due to the sympathoadrenal response.
Or maybe I had been drugged.
The prudent thing to do would be to go down to Medical and run a blood series on myself. Only the Omorr would immediately stick his nose in what I was doing and want to know why. No, forget that. I’d run the series when he went off shift.
Why would anyone want to drug me, anyway? The Jorenians had adopted me, welcomed me, practically smothered me in friendship.
I fell back on the mattress and thought about Reever. This had to be another of his telepathic manipulations. Only he didn’t want me without the words. Why hadn’t he just made me say them?
Eventually I calmed down. Memorized the swirly patterns on the upper deck. Closed my eyes.
I floated in a sea of warm, black fluid. An intricate web held my body suspended. I liked it here. It was warm and safe. Much better than how Reever had left me.
Unexpected light pierced that eternal night. I closed my eyes against it. Pain shimmered through my curled limbs as one of the strands pulsated, and something entered my body. I felt myself changing, emerging from the safety of the darkness. My mind formed its very first conscious thought.
This is wrong.
As if in response to my thoughts, more strands flexed, and agonizing jolts bombarded my small bones.
Small. I was so small. Helpless. The pain I felt, it was shaping me. I would fight it. Defeat it.
Another chamber. Here the dim glow to the air was soft gold. I was myself again, and breathed in relief. What a nightmare.
What was that?
I wasn’t alone. I couldn’t see the presence in the dream with me, but I knew it was there. The nightmare hadn’t ended, but had somehow... shifted.
“Here. I am here.”
The low voice whispered, offering comfort to me. I inched toward the sound. Was it Reever, come to taunt me here as well as on the other side? Let him try to link with me. I’d knock a hole through that enigmatic brain of his.
“I can help you.”
The sound of that voice was determined. Dangerous.
The words swirled around me as it chanted my name, over and over. I should have been lulled into acquiescence. The first nightmare was too fresh, though, so I remained on guard.
Hands reached out, touched me-
I jerked out of sleep with a shriek. Sweat made dark patches all over my undershirt. Dread curled in my stomach. Throwing up had enormous appeal at that moment. I rubbed my eyes and breathed deeply. Reever had to stop doing this to me.
No. It wasn’t Reever. I remembered now.
The hands in my dream had been six-fingered.
CHAPTER THREE
HouseClan Call
I threw myself into my work after the confrontation with Reever. Even ran a series of blood tests the following morning, but nothing unusual showed up. Which proved nothing except that I hadn’t been drugged with any identifiable chemical substance.
Reever avoided me. Whenever I saw him, I merely turned and walked into an available gyrlift. We were being very civilized. It was a big ship. Both of us had plenty of responsibilities in our respective positions. We could do this all the way to Joren.
“Priority direct relay for you, Healer Cherijo.”
I walked over to the main display and acknowledged the signal. “Forward it through to the Senior Healer
’s office for me, please.”
I grabbed a server of tea from the ward prep unit on the way in, closed the door, then activated Tonetka’s display. The vid screen glowed and coalesced into an image of a sleek, well-groomed blond woman. “Ana?”
“Hello, Dr. Grey Veil!” K-2’s Administrator smiled as she scrutinized me thoroughly. “You’re looking very well for an escaped League criminal with an outrageous amount of credits on your head.”
I laughed with delight. “Ana Hansen, how in the universe did you manage to make a direct relay to the Sunlacel”
“Commander Norash owed me a favor, and the Jorenians were happy to help. We arranged a signal rendezvous before you left orbit. So tell me, how are you?”
I quickly related some of the events since my rescue from K-2, leaving out the latest clash with Reever.
She was astonished to learn I had been adopted by HouseClan Torin. “This makes you Dr. Cherijo Torin?”
“Among other things,” I said, and took a sip from the server. “Namely, ClanDaughter, ClanCousin, ClanNiece...”
She beamed with pleasure. “Just what you needed. One big family.” I could debate that, I thought, but decided instead to tell her about replacing Tonetka once we reached Joren. “Quite an honor,” was her reaction.
I winced. “Please, don’t say that word. The first week I was on board, I said something about what an honor it was to be working with the crew. Apparently my wording translated to a licentious proposal to three different males standing nearby.”
“Did any of them hold you to it?”
“Happily, no.”
“Too bad,” she said. “Speaking of males, how is Duncan?”
I tried to find out, I thought sourly, but he got cold feet on me. Irritation made me flush, and I tugged at my collar. “He’s working as the ship’s linguist.”
“Any... progress between you two?”
“No.” Time to change the subject. To anything but Reever. “How are things at your end of the galaxy?”
“The League cruisers pulled out of orbit some weeks ago, when it finally became apparent you weren’t coming back.”
Idiots. “Takes them awhile to catch on, doesn’t it?”
She nodded. “Your old nemesis Phorap Rogan was dismissed at the same time. Rumor has it he returned to his homeworld.”
“The patients declare a colonial holiday?” I finished my tea and set the server aside.
“Some wanted to.” Ana tried to look official, but the grin spoiled the effect. “Dr. Mayer sends you his regards. He asked me to say that should the League’s decision ever be reversed in your case, he will allow you to be Chief of Staff while he spends a few years on Caszaria’s Moon.”
I laughed. I couldn’t imagine the taciturn surgeon ever relaxing on K-2, much less a resort planet. “How are the colonists? Has everyone settled down?”
One of Ana’s slim hands rubbed her brow for a moment. “Those who are left, yes. We’ve had a general exodus. More than half the population transferred out as soon as Pmoc Quadrant lifted the last travel restrictions.”
That was a shame. “Colonial Admin had to figure that was going to happen.” Surreptitiously I rubbed my damp palms on my trousers, and wondered if Squilyp had been fooling with the environmental controls again.
“We planned for it, but the need for key staffing has become critical. We now need construction workers as much as medical personnel. No one, naturally, wants to transfer in. We hope, with time, the panic will fade.” She grew serious. “What about your situation, Joey? Will you be all right with the Jorenians? Are you happy?”
“I’m satisfied with my position. Happy...” I grimaced. “Who wants to look over their shoulder forever?”
“Keep your chin up,” she said. “If you need help, remember you still have friends here. Whether you return to Pmoc Quadrant or not.”
We didn’t say it. We both knew this might be the last time we had direct contact with each other.
“Thanks, Ana. I’ll try to stay in touch.”
“Thank you. Tell Dhreen and Alunthri I send my greetings. Oh, and give Jenner a hug for me.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “God bless and safe journey, Cherijo. I will be thinking of you, always.”
The traditional Jorenian farewell seemed appropriate. “Walk within beauty, Ana.”
I terminated the relay. Before I turned from the console, a signal from Operational came in. Ndo’s image appeared on the screen, his broad features etched with tension.
“Alert status,” he said. “Medical, prepare for emergency transition. Assemble medevac teams, report to level eighteen, launch control.”
A couple of the nurses came over as I acknowledged the signal. “What is it, Ndo?”
“NessNevat has been attacked by raiders. Make haste.” Ndo’s relay abruptly terminated.
Getting the patients prepped took time. Residents, nurses, and the Senior Healer appeared in rapid succession. I looked up from Fasala’s suspension cradle. Tonetka seemed worried.
“We’ve got to get the berth harnesses in place,” I said, sweeping my hand toward the last of the unsecured patients.
The Omorr resident bumped into me as he bounced by. “Doctor! Didn’t you hear the announcement? We have to hurry and make preparations!”
“Don’t get your gildrells in a knot, Squilyp.” I felt like smacking him with something hard and heavy. “This is why we have all those endless drills, remember?”
We managed to strap all the patients in protective harnesses just before the ship’s transitional thrusters fired. I turned to locate a spare harness. Squilyp, who was already strapped in, gave me a derisive glare. What a little paragon of caution he was.
“See? Nothing to worry about. I bet that had to be a record-“ I found myself flat on my face, watching the deck below me ripple and reshape itself. “Forget what I said.” I groaned, and pushed myself up on my elbows as the Sunlace transitioned.
Through the distortion of reality, the Omorr looked like a big blob of white corkscrews. Corkscrews that were jiggling with laughter.
“You can get up now, Healer.” Tonetka was too polite to laugh at me, once the transition was over. “Perhaps I will increase the number of drills we perform.”
“The Doctor could apply some off-duty time to remedial training,” Squilyp said. Always the helpful resident.
I’d like to apply something flat, wide, and adhesive to his gildrells, I thought. I held my head and stood up carefully. “I’ll never complain again. Long as I live.” Which I hoped would be until I was a little old grey-haired genetic construct.
“Remain still, Cherijo,” the Senior Healer said, and performed a brief scan. She frowned slightly. “Your vitals are registering above normal parameters. Norepinephrine levels are also unusually elevated.”
“It’s just the sympathoadrenal response, Tonetka.” I straightened my tunic. “Terrans exposed to sudden, unexpected stress generally enter a hypermetabolic state.”
“As you say, Cherijo.” She didn’t look entirely convinced, but we had other things to do. “Come, we must perform rounds.” To the residents, she said, “Prepare the field packs. Allow enough supplies for possible heavy casualties.”
The Senior Healer made sure we had enough staffers to cover the ward, then she and I performed quick rounds. Squilyp and another resident sorted what equipment we would need. The supplies were divided among the medevac team. I shouldered my heavy pack with a grimace. The Omorr must have put an extra fifty kilos in mine.
“Caution,” the Medical Bay display announced. “Medevac launch will depart Sunlace in ten minutes.”
We took the gyrlift down eleven levels, where one of the launches was waiting for us. Other teams were still loading their shuttles with relief supplies and equipment.
“Have you received reports from the surface?” Tonetka asked once she was inside the launch. I stowed my pack before shrugging into a harness rig. The pilot turned around, and the interior light revealed a thatch of orange hair wit
h two small, red hornlike protrusions. It was my Oenrallian friend, Dhreen.
“No signal from the colonists,” Dhreen replied, and punched in the initiation codes. The launch engines hummed into life.
Squilyp leaned forward. “What about the raiders?”
The Oenrallian, who had long ago transported me from Terra to K-2, shrugged. “A trader reported that ships were attacking the colony,” Dhreen said. “Probably a passing route jaunter who saw them firing on the planet from orbit.”
The Omorr looked pained. “A trader? Surely more reputable sources could have provided information.”
“Nothing wrong with traders,” Dhreen said.
“They’re the worst sort of opportunists.” Squilyp’s gildrells bristled. “Always looking to profit from the suffering of others. Why, once I knew this-“
“Uh, Squil?” I interrupted him. “Want to guess what Dhreen was before he joined the crew?” The Omorr’s eyes widened as he glanced from the unsmiling Oenrallian to me. “Exactly. So... you were saying?”
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
Dhreen winked at me. I felt much better.
The launch shot out of the flight bay and into open space. Below us the looming sphere of the planet swelled into view. It was a placid-looking world. Land masses solidly paved the outer surface in a myriad pattern of green and brown topography. Small blue circles indicated water sources, probably former sites of ancient meteor collisions.
I noticed that Dhreen was scanning the immediate sector continuously. Slipping from my harness, I went to the helm and quietly asked him about it.
“Standard procedure after raider attacks,” he said, his oddly pitched voice equally low. “Loot haulers sometimes hide close by, wait for rescue to come in, jump them as well.”
“According to the reports, this species is principally involved in agricultural trade,” Tonetka said behind us. “Who would attack such a world?”
Dhreen’s cheerful voice iced over with contempt. “Scum looking for easy takings.”
It took only minutes to descend through the upper atmosphere, and clear the last distance to dock. En route we used the time to check our equipment and review medevac protocols.
