D'mok Revival: The Nukari Invasion Anthology
Page 26
“My world,” Naijen replied, eyes still locked on Allia.
Toriko waved a hand scanner over them and frowned. “You all have radiation. Not as much, though. Naijen, your level is lowest. Perhaps because you have adapted to your world. But Allia? She has a hundred times the toxic level!”
Toriko glared at Mencari. “You let her get hit by a bomb or something?”
“She tried to heal a tainted creature,” Seigie said.
“She must have absorbed whatever was in it,” Mencari said.
Ichini had slipped in behind Naijen. He yowled sadly, then hopped onto a chair next to Allia.
Mencari nodded at him. “He still has that strange greenish color too.”
Toriko tried to scan Ichini. “Nothing at all. It’s supposed to scan any organic being, but . . . maybe it won’t work on whatever species Ichini is?”
She looked at the others with desperate eyes. “I’m sorry, medical engineering isn’t really my area.”
Osuto motioned toward the door. “Let’s give her a chance to rest, Toriko.”
“I’ll stay,” Toriko said. “I can try to run a few more tests or something. Try tweaking my scanner, maybe do a little more research.”
Osuto nodded and again motioned to the others. Mencari moved toward the door, but paused to look back at the sleeping child. “Watch over her, Ichini.”
Ichini whined, licked his jagged green snout, and lowered his green head to a set of equally glowing, equally green forepaws.
* * * * *
“Perhaps I should show Naijen around?”
Ujaku was the first to break the silence as they made their way down the corridor to the elevator.
Osuto nodded. “When you’re finished, we’ll be in the meeting room.”
As the elevator arrived, Ujaku motioned to Naijen, who grunted in acknowledgement. The two headed down the hall.
Osuto, and Seigie entered the elevator with Mencari.
“I’m grateful to see one more added to our number,” Osuto started. “But there’s little else we can do for Allia, so we should plan what’s next. Toriko and Ujaku need to finish setting up their work areas. And we have to finish the station expansion.”
Seigie cleared her throat and said, “We should continue to monitor the communication channels, too. Although it will be difficult to concentrate,” she cast her crystalline red eyes downward. “In light of the circumstances. I wish I knew more about the barite we found on Naijen’s planet. I’ll examine the samples I brought back right away.”
They gathered in the meeting room.
Osuto led off. “Did you come across any Nukari on Naijen’s world?”
Mencari shook his head. “None detected. So Naijen’s planet’s probably clear for now.”
Without warning, the familiar feelings of helplessness hit Mencari like a sucker-punch. Images of his lost wife and son spun through his mind, along with Allia’s limp body.
“Osuto, she needs serious medical help.” he said. “Who knows what that radiation will do to her? I know Toriko’s doing her best. But she even said it’s not going to heal Allia.”
Osuto’s body grew rigid. “But . . . we’re an isolated outpost. And . . . we have to keep our focus on the Nukari. This is a fight for our lives. It might be rough to accept, but there will be casualties. Do you think no one else will be hurt?”
“But we weren’t fighting Nukari! She was just healing a creature.”
“We can’t stop everything when one of us gets injured.”
Seigie spoke up. “What about other Coalition facilities?”
Mencari gave a resigned shake of his head. “The Coalition has left us out to dry. They’re no help.”
“Then where? Maybe we should at least take her back to her world?”
To die? Mencari thought. He shook his head. “I doubt they’d know what to do with this condition either. And . . . we promised to take care of her.”
“Rhysus, I realize how harsh I must sound,” Osuto said. “But I’m a warrior trained by D’mok himself. Any distraction could mean the loss of many lives to come. To have any chance against the Nukari, you must somehow retain your warrior’s heart—”
Mencari’s face flushed. “No,” he said, standing up. “I won’t accept that.”
Osuto’s conscience wouldn’t allow it either. Mencari could see it in Osuto’s eyes. How could they possibly maintain a warrior’s heart when there was a little girl grievously wounded?
Osuto sighed. “We can’t just stop every time someone gets hurt,” he muttered.
Light steps approached. As Toriko entered, she looked like she wanted to cry. “I’ve taken bio readings, but I don’t know what any of them mean. She’s still sleeping.”
“The trading post.”
Seigie had spoken quietly. The others swiveled to look at her.
“What?” asked Osuto.
“The trading post. Use your contacts, Rhysus. Find help there.”
“She’s right,” Osuto said acquiescing.
Mencari looked up, encouraged. “Should I go alone, or should we just take her there?”
Toriko bobbed her head enthusiastically. “She’s not going to get better here. Anything would be better than her staying. Just give me a sec.” She projected a display of information on a display. “The medical data I have isn’t packaged for transfer. . . I’ll go with you.”
“I wanna go too,” Naijen said from the doorway.
Mencari turned surprised. How long had he been standing there? Ujaku’s heavy steps pounded quickly towards them down the hall.
“We’re not all going to fit along with the medical equipment,” Toriko added. “Maybe we could take one more?”
Arriving out of breath, Ujaku grunted to Naijen, “Why’d you run off?”
“Changed my mind,” Naijen said.
They all looked at Osuto. He looked around the room, then nodded.
“I’ll go, too,” Seigie said. “Osuto, can you handle things while I’m gone?”
“Ujaku and I will keep things going here,” Osuto said.
* * * * *
“Stay put. I’ll be back soon,” Mencari said as he dashed out of the airlock.
The sound of a small robot approaching brought unexpected relief. If Bob was anything, it was predictable. And amazingly useful. This was one of those times where being pounced on upon arrival reduced his stress rather than increasing it.
“Greetings and salutations, Coalition visitor, Rhysus Mencari.”
“Bob, are there any medical facilities here?” he asked hastily.
“Seven decks up. In the Hyer Metro district,” Bob said flatly, before chirping inquisitively. “Are you hurt?”
Before Mencari could answer, Bob’s sensor eyes flashed yellow. “Detecting. . . marginally higher radiation, heart rate, and blood pressure. . . Body structural integrity appears uncompromised. . . You are in very good health, Rhysus Mencari!”
“It’s a companion of mine—she’s still on the ship,” he explained. “She’s been exposed to more radiation than me.”
“Perimeter scans in progress. . . ” Bob’s antenna grew suddenly rigid, its digital eyes changing to a deep red. “Environmental levels of radiation appear nominal. However, safety protocols dictate an immediate quarantine of this area.”
Informational displays appeared around them, with flashing lights of warning.
“Please be aware, this area is sealed until further investigation can be conducted,” Bob said flatly.
“Please, I need to help her.”
“I understand,” Bob said. Mencari thought the bot sounded almost compassionate. “Medical droids have been dispatched and are in route. They will assess the subject and determine proper outcomes.”
“Thank you,” Mencari said gratefully.
“In the future, please refrain from risking exposure to my station and inhabitants,” Bob said with a slightly scolding tone. “Informing station authorities in advance of potential biohazards is recommended. Then
we can provide assistance while safeguarding others.”
Bob grew still, before adding, “I have received an inbound transmission for you. Shall I open the connection?”
“For me?” Mencari said, wondering who would be contacting him. “Yes, please, go ahead.”
A hologram of Eyani appeared.
“Rhysus,” she said alarmed. “Is everything alright? I’m seeing a quarantine at the location listed.”
“It’s one of my team members, Allia,” Mencari explained. “She has been exposed to a large dose of radiation.”
She paused, seeming to search for the right thing to say.
“You came to the right place,” Eyani said reassuringly. “We can help her.”
She hesitated again. Mencari found himself wondering why she was contacting him.
“Bob, please route any expenses incurred to my account. Mencari and his companions are in my care. They have been employed as data seekers.”
“Understood,” Bob replied.
A small swarm of Bob-like robots sped around the corner, stopping next to Mencari.
“The response team has arrived,” Bob informed.
“She’ll be in good hands, Rhysus,” Eyani said.
* * * * *
"Can you see if there’s an update on her condition?" Toriko asked for the hundredth time as she, Mencari, Seigie and Naijen sat in the medical station’s waiting area.
Perhaps they had brought Allia to the right place, but he still felt a heavy burden and guilt. He was supposed to have kept her safe, he’d promised that to Lu’ri and the elders back on her home world. Instead, the first thing he had done was nearly get her killed.
How could he be so reckless with a child? He knew that she was a very unusual little girl. But a child nonetheless. Suddenly he found it difficult to look anyone in the eye.
"We’re going to be here awhile," Mencari said meekly.
"But she's going to make it?" Toriko asked.
How should he respond? Despite the great technologies available on the station, that didn't mean they knew everything about the physiology of all species. Even armed with predictive computer models and brilliant minds, the doctor had not been willing to guess at Allia's odds. It was a very bad case of severe radiation poisoning, rooted in an alien biology, he’d said.
But there were always odds. Which meant there was hope. As a leader, Mencari had to capitalize on that.
"Yes, Toriko. But it will take time," he said.
There, short and simple. Any further details would only mire the situation, Mencari thought.
* * * * *
"Thank you, Eyani," he said. "I appreciate you picking up the costs."
"You and your crew have already provided so much information, I have to protect my best investments to date!" she said, trying to lighten the mood. Her tone grew more serious when she added, "Honestly, I’m glad I can help."
"What do we do now?" Toriko asked.
"Well," Eyani said matter of factly. "I actually have something I could use your help on."
"What's that?" Mencari said, expecting something needing attention on the Trading Post.
"There's a desert world called Nicia that I need updated information on," she explained with unabashed curiosity. "Data collected long ago suggests an abandoned colony with technology left behind. If possible, I’d like you to investigate a specific site and recover anything you may find there.”
Mencari wasn’t expecting a salvage operation.
“Um, how big are the things you’re looking to recover? We don’t really have the right equipment to move something big.”
Eyani shook her head. “If there is something there, it would be smaller. Hand-held size, potentially. It was difficult to make out, based on the scans and information provided.”
Something didn’t seem right to Mencari. Colonies were never just left behind. They cost too much to establish to be abandoned, unless there had been some dramatic turn of events or situation that forced the colony to flee the planet.
"Why was it abandoned?" Mencari asked. He was not interested in unnecessarily endangering his crew again.
"Something about long-term sustainability, millennia of terraforming,” Eyani said, waving it off. “Their government wasn't willing to cover the costs."
“So no giant sandworms will eat us if we go there?” Mencari half-joked.
She laughed. “Nothing like that, no.”
Allia needed time to recover, and Eyani needed help. Maybe they could repay her kindness, and even make some additional credits to help things along.
“We’ll do it—assuming the details of the mission are in our capabilities,” Mencari decided.
“But I’m staying here with Allia,” Seigie announced to the others.
“Excellent,” Eyani said, pleased. “Don’t worry about Allia. We’ll make sure she gets the best care while you’re gone. I’ll have Bob upload everything we know about Nicia to your ship.”
* * * * *
“We’ll be back soon,” Mencari said.
Seigie stood beside the small girl laying peacefully in the medical bed. “Just don’t let anyone else get hurt.”
“I won’t,” Mencari said.
Seigie sighed as Mencari, Naijen and Toriko headed out. Someone had to stay with the girl. Frustration filled her. Once again, she felt powerless to help those she cared about. It was all happening again, just like when she escaped from D’mar so long ago, watching her compatriots slowly die.
I won’t let this happen again.
Her determination flagged as she looked over the unconscious child. Even Ichini remained in an unusual deep sleep, curled tightly in a ball next to her on the bed.
The lines of Seigie’s ancient face grew darker with worry. As her brow furrowed, small, glittering specs of crystal flaked off. It was not just worry; the sight of the sick girl was an uncomfortable reminder of the plague consuming her own body, little by little. The plague changing Seigie into crystal moved slowly across her body, much like the greenish cast taking over Allia and Ichini’s skin. Something had to be done soon.
I have to try.
She pulled a few green crystals from her satchel, charged and broke them over Allia. Still no effect. She winced as a prickling pain ran up her arm, just like before, when she’d had to use the blue and red crystals against the Renzr beast. She could feel a section of her skin grow cold, then tight as the cells crystallized. She breathed heavily, warding off the sensation. It went away, but the pain remained.
A hand gently touched her arm startling her. For a moment she thought it was the girl, but instead, a friendly nurse asked with compassion, “Are you okay?”
Not wanting to reveal her struggle or her growing fear, she nodded shallowly. “I’m . . . just concerned about the child.”
* * * * *
“Nicia’s just ahead,” Toriko said as the ship smoothly cleared the off ramp. “I can’t imagine how long this would have taken without the spaceway.”
Spark barked happily from his digital doggie bed nearby.
Naijen snorted in displeasure. Apparently it was still too long a trip for him, Mencari thought.
A dusty, amber sphere grew in the display before them. Pockets of emerald green sparsely dotted a massive dessert. Mencari called up the terrain maps received from Eyani. It looked like even more of the green sections had been swallowed up by the desert since the last visit. The largest patch of green had a marker towards the far eastern section. That’s where Eyani wanted them to go.
A bang resonated across the hull, violently shaking the crew. Mencari’s harness, already weakened from earlier incidents, ripped through, tossing him off his seat. Reaching out, he braced against the first thing he could grab. Unfortunately it was an unwelcoming mass of muscle.
“Get your paws off,” Naijen barked. “You’re not my type.”
Mencari wasn’t sure how to respond, but quickly removed his hands. Toriko yelped as a second jarring flung them all to the floor.
“What’s going on?” Mencari yelled as Toriko scampered back to her seat, summoning a holographic control cube. In moments, multiple displays scrolled with images and various schematics.
“It’s something in the atmosphere,” she said panicked. “Extreme particle density. . . The sensors didn’t see it until it was too late!” she cried.
Mencari saw her necklace flash. “What pattern?” she asked, looking over at Spark.
The ship jarred a third time, tossing them again. This time Mencari saw sections of the ship schematics go red, with a host of warning indicators. A sudden gravity threw them against the hull. The forward display showed the planet spinning wildly. But it was clear it was the ship that was spinning wildly.
“What’s going on!” Naijen yelled, confused, failing in his attempts to pry himself off the hull.
“Mini-T! Spark! Take control!” she yelled, necklace flashing. Mencari looked over seeing Spark snugly strapped into his robotic doggie bed. A ship schematic appeared before it. As his eyes disappeared into a digital visor, lines and strings of data quickly strobed across.
Mini-Toriko appeared in a shower of light, with her own holographic display before her. One by one, the red sections started changing to yellow, and the many warnings started to disappear from the display.
The ship’s rotation slowed, and the gravity pinning them down weakened.
“Good boy!” Toriko cheered. “You’re doing it!”
“Oh, I’m fine, I don’t need praise,” Mini-Toriko said sarcastically.
The yellow segments began to turn green. Mencari felt his body sliding down, free of the immense pressure that so easily held him against the hull.
“Nearly there!” Mini-Toriko cried in joy.
Finally the green turned a nominal blue color.
“Good work,” Mencari said relieved. “But next time, advance warning of something like that would help,” Mencari said.
Toriko looked away embarrassed. “I know,” she said regretfully. “I’ll enhance the systems before the next trip. And better seat harnesses might be a good idea, too.”
Taking his seat, Mencari called up his own display projection. Pools of shimmering amber and green moved in waves, surrounded by great white sand dunes. He called up the information from Eyani, which overlaid a grid. An icon representing their destination appeared ahead. The ship groaned as the braking system engaged.