by Susan Hayes
The room was almost identical to every other one of its type she’d ever been in. Pale walls, a small counter space, a narrow bed and a few chairs. The medical droid sat in standby mode in one corner, its various limbs folded against its frame.
She was directed to stand in a corner with a small circle on the floor. The scans were done in less than a minute, though the holographic attendant informed her that the results couldn’t be released until they’d been reviewed by a healer.
“Are you aware that your pregnancy inhibitor has expired?” the AI asked as Anya removed her heavy cloak and rolled up her sleeve in preparation for having blood drawn.
The question surprised her. “I wasn’t. It must have slipped my mind. Can you inject a new one while I’m here?”
“Unfortunately that item is not currently in my inventory. A shipment is expected in ten to sixteen days. Do you wish to be notified when it’s in stock?”
“Please.” There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in a supernova she was going to get pregnant at her age, but between Tra’var’s sudden illness and Damos’ lie of omission, she wasn’t ready to take that chance. Even if part of her wasn’t as opposed to the idea as she tried to pretend. Until a few days ago, she’d expected to live her entire life alone. Things were changing quickly. Who knew what the future might bring?
She answered a few more questions and asked a few of her own while the droid took samples. The AI didn’t have any new information about the strange illness, but that wasn’t a surprise. She couldn’t imagine the healers or the council would update an AI before sharing the information with the general populace.
That thought had her digging in her pocket for her comms. Why hadn’t there been an official announcement yet?
“Am I done?”
“Yes. Your results will be sent to you once they’ve been compiled and reviewed. I cannot give you an estimate on when that will be due to the current situation.”
“Can you tell me if I have any obvious indications of infection?”
The hologram gave her a conspiratorial look so realistic it was uncanny. “The scans showed nothing that would cause me to recommend that you seek further medical attention.”
“Thank you.” Anya rose, donned her cloak, and was already checking the community feed for updates as she followed the hologram back into the waiting area. Once there, the image raised a hand in farewell and then faded away.
She might not have all the answers, but at least she knew she wasn’t sick. Whatever Tra’var had, the odds were good she hadn’t been the one to give it to him.
One worry gone. Several dozen to go.
A community-wide update had been issued while she was getting scanned. It didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know, but not everyone had been questioned and then updated by the prince’s spymaster about the matter. Now, everyone was aware of the problem and had a list of symptoms to reference. The posting also made it clear that the humans and cyborgs were to use caution and refrain from any contact with their Vardarian neighbors. It was infuriating, and the wording of the whole thing made it clear that the prince hadn’t written it. This had to be from Yardan.
She started to type out a quick text message but then changed her mind and sent a ping requesting an audio call when Phaedra had a moment.
Her comm chimed before she could put it away, the tone an indication she had an incoming voice message.
“Hey, Phae. Thanks for getting back to me. I need to ask—” was all she managed to say before Phaedra interrupted.
“Anya! Where are you? How are you? Do you know what’s going on? Wait, of course you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me at the crack of dawn. Also, I’d be furious with you for not telling me you’re mated but things have been a little chaotic so I will be mad at you later.”
Anya blinked at her comms. “Have you been drinking ja’kreesh?”
“Yes. Can you tell? No, wait, don’t answer that until you answer my other questions.” Without video, it was harder to read her friend, but the brittleness to her words was worrying. More was going on with Phaedra than just an overdose of Torski-brewed rocket fuel.
“I’m fine and on my way to the tavern.” Anya had to swallow hard before she could add. “Tra’var is sick. Damos took him to get help, but I can’t go because your asshole mahoyen banned humans from the site. What the fraxx is that about?”
“It wasn’t Tyran. He…” Phaedra’s voice cracked and then she shifted to the trade language the translators didn’t recognize. “Tyran and Braxon are both sick. They’re being treated at home. The council is doing their best, but Yardan is convinced this is some kind of attack. I can’t say any more than that right now.”
“Can you come to the tavern? It’s shut down until this craziness is over,” she asked in the same language.
“I…” Phae sighed. “I don’t want to leave them, but the truth is I can’t do much here. Plus I could use a break. They’re both difficult patients, who are not coping well with their current reality.”
Anya snorted. “Yeah. Tra’v was the same way. Apparently never being sick a day in their lives has left them woefully unprepared for this.” It felt good to be talking to Phaedra about this. She couldn’t be the only one feeling this way, either.
She switched back to Galactic Standard. “Come to the tavern. I’ll make us some hot chocolate and see what desserts are left over from last night. And for the love of gravity, don’t tell Yardan where you’re going. I’ve seen enough of him already.”
“I’m on my way. Wait. When did you see Yardan?”
Anya had to stop and think for a moment. Had it really only been yesterday? It felt like so much longer. “He dropped by yesterday to poke around and insinuate that I or one of my staff had something to do with all this.”
Phaedra demonstrated just how many languages she knew by cursing in all of them without taking a breath. “I wasn’t informed he’d done that.”
“It’s fine. I fed him and he turned into someone almost pleasant for a while. Meet you at the tavern? I’m ten minutes away.”
“See you there. It might take me a bit longer to slip away without anyone noticing I’m gone. With everything going on, they’re treating me like I was made of glass.”
“But so far no humans have got this, whatever it is, and you have medi-bots as well as Vardarian nanotech. You should be fine.”
It took Phaedra just a half-second too long to reply. “You know what Yardan is like. He’s paranoid on a good day, and this is not a good day.”
More was going on than Phaedra was admitting. That was fine with Anya. She could keep her secrets. Right until she set foot in the Bar None. Then Anya was getting to the bottom of things.
Anya had enough time to make two mugs of cocoa, top them with whipped cream, and set out a platter of leftover desserts with a few fruit tarts, a couple of brownies, and a stack of Maggie’s trademark cookies. “Breakfast of champions,” she declared as she took a seat and helped herself to a cookie.
She was on her second one when she heard footsteps on the porch. “Come on in, Phae. I left it unlocked.”
The door opened as Phaedra called out, “I’m sorry, Anya. This was not my idea!”
Then Yardan marched inside with Phaedra trailing after him.
Anya got to her feet. “You weren’t invited, Yardan. And we’re out of tarugan. No reason for you to be here. Shoo.”
“He caught me slipping out the back. When Tyran is out of bed, he and I are having an overdue discussion about what happens when people try to control my life.” Phaedra shot a withering look at Yardan.
The spymaster glared right back at her. “You wanted to go out. You’re out. You insisted you didn’t need your security detail, so they are not here. With the prince and his anrik… unavailable, your protection falls to me.”
“The hell it does,” Phaedra said over her shoulder as she marched past him to give Anya a rib-cracking hug.
“Hi. Congrats on your mating. Sorry yo
ur mates are sick. Hello, brownies! Now this is a proper breakfast.” Phaedra let go of her to pick up a brownie and then dropped into an empty chair.
Yardan hadn’t moved.
“Oh for the love of… Why are you here? She’s fine. I’m not going to poison my friend. If you’re so worried about Phae’s safety, you can stand outside and guard the door.”
Phaedra sighed. “He’s still here because he’s afraid something will happen to the prince’s heir.”
Yardan stiffened. “You are not supposed to speak of it yet! And brownies are hardly something a female in your condition should be eating.”
Ah. That explained a few things. “You’re pregnant? Congratulations! How far along?”
Phaedra beamed. “A little over two months. We’re not saying anything yet since it’s still early.”
“And you’re healthy?”
“As a horse. Yardan is just being paranoid.”
“That’s my job,” he replied.
Anya gave in. She kicked out another chair and nodded to it. “If you’re staying, sit down. Order yourself something to drink if you want.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t wait for him to sit before turning her attention back to Phaedra. “Why are the humans being kept away from the sick? We didn’t do this. None of us have any signs of infection.”
“It’s safer this way,” Yardan said before Phaedra could speak.
“For who? Have you thought this through, Yardan? What happens if this bug keeps spreading through your species? Who will take care of the sick when everyone is sick?”
“I asked him the same thing,” Phaedra chimed in. “Apparently Vardarians aren’t good at asking for help. Like, at all.”
“But that’s already happened. I mean, the healers here have contacted some of the other species for help to figure this out. Right?”
“We have,” Yardan said.
“I reached out to my friend Alison. She’s a doctor out on the Drift with a lot of experience treating humans and cyborgs. She and her husbands are still on what’s left of Astek Station, taking care of the remaining residents until the new station is ready. Anyway, she’s got people working on it, but we don’t want word of this getting out, either. We have to be careful.”
That caught her off guard. “Why?”
“Because someone or something has weakened the Vardarians’ nanotech. That’s never happened before, so it’s not likely to be random chance. We can’t let whoever it is know it worked,” Phaedra said, her voice solemn.
“Fraxx.” With everything going on, she hadn’t had time to consider what a nanotech problem really represented.
Anya mulled that over for a moment and then looked at Yardan. “All the more reason we need to pull together right now. If this community has been attacked, we should all be doing what we can to help. Is Denz working on solutions to the nanotech problem? What about some of the cyborgs he’s been mentoring?”
“They’re already on it. Vixi has taken samples and sent them along, but she and the other healers are all starting to show symptoms. One of her fathers is literally coordinating things from his bed.”
More footsteps outside announced they had another visitor. Both women looked up and Yardan got to his feet.
Maggie walked in. “Oh, hey. Was out walking and just sort of wound up here. Sorry for intruding.”
Anya waved her inside. “Get in here and grab a seat. Better yet, go make a few more mugs of cocoa and then sit down. Yardan could do with one, too.”
The spymaster had sunk back into his chair without saying a word, which was worrying. And was it her imagination or was his golden skin tone looking a little flat and faded?
“On it.” Maggie headed for the bar. “So, we talking about this damned bug and the fact that none of us are allowed to help our friends?”
“We are,” Anya said.
“Excellent. On behalf of every human colonist stuck on the other side of the river—all of whom have messaged me already today—this is bullshit. This is our home too. And don’t get me started on the cyborgs. They’re furious.”
Phaedra sighed into her hot chocolate. “I told you.”
Yardan nodded the slightest bit. “You were right. If we knew what this was and who was vulnerable then maybe…”
“Nope,” Maggie called out. “That’s not your decision to make. If I decide I want to take the chance to help my neighbors, that’s my call. The council isn’t happy about this either. Are they?”
Yardan’s shoulders slumped. “They are not.”
“But Denz is scrambling to deal with the nanotech issue. Raze is on the other side of the mountains with his family. All the Vardarians on the council are symptomatic. River and Edge are raising hell, but they don’t have quorum.” Phaedra’s lips twisted into a grimace. “We never planned for this.”
“Welcome to reality, where no plan survives for long.” Maggie set down a mug in front of Yardan and pulled a chair out for herself. “If we’re making this up as we go along, is there any reason why the others can’t be here?”
Yardan scowled. “No one should be out right now.”
Phaedra waved him off. “I think we’re past that. In fact, I know we are.” She looked at Anya. “How many cookies do you have in the kitchen?”
It was an easy decision. “Enough. Call them, Maggie. We might as well all be together for this.”
They sat in a more or less comfortable silence while Maggie called the human colonists. She then programmed in an order for more food and cocoa and returned to the table.
“They’ll be here shortly. River is driving them over, which tells you everything you need to know about how eager they are to do something,” Maggie reported when she returned.
After taking a sip of her drink Maggie leaned back in her chair and asked, “Does anyone even know what this is, yet?”
“No idea. It could be anything. Tra’var has a fever, body aches, headache, and fatigue. Saral and her mates apparently have the same thing. That’s all I know.”
“The ones who sickened first have some kind of skin lesion. It’s lifting their scales and causes discomfort,” Yardan said.
“It hurts?” Anya asked. “No one said anything about pain.”
Yardan set a portable holo-projector on the table and called up a file. “Apparently it doesn’t hurt, but it does itch. It first appeared last night.”
A medical report appeared on the display. Anya didn’t bother reading it.
“What kind of rash? Do you have images?”
Phaedra glared at the spymaster. “If he does, it’s news to me.”
“You were caring for your mahoyen and I didn’t want to disturb you. You tried to sneak out before I could inform you of an update.”
“You could have told me on the drive down here,” Phaedra said between bites of cookie.
“You informed me you weren’t speaking to me. I took that to mean you didn’t wish me to speak to you either.”
It was like being in the middle of a family squabble as the favorite niece tormented the grumpy uncle. Anya cleared her throat. “Ahem. If we could get back to the matter at hand?”
“Of course.” Yardan tapped the projector and the file was replaced by several images, each one enlarged enough so they could all see it easily.
Each image was similar. Gold or silver skin had raised and clearly irritated scales.
“Are these all on the torso?” Maggie asked.
“Looks like it.” Something was nagging at the back of Anya’s mind. Something whispering she’d seen this before, but where? She’d never seen a sick Vardarian in her life. They were apparently as rare as a unicorn’s first tooth.
Voices outside announced more guests were arriving.
“Good thing this place doesn’t have any speed limits yet or River would have some explaining to do,” Phaedra commented.
The relative quiet of the tavern was shattered as a group of human women came through the door. Anya had never met any of them before. Norma
lly they weren’t permitted to cross the bridge into the rest of the colony. They were still acclimating to life here and the restrictions ensured they wouldn’t find themselves claimed by a pair of Vardarian males before they were ready. Anya hadn’t liked the idea of keeping the human women isolated, but now she’d been claimed herself, she could see the logic. She’d been here longer than any of these women and she was still struggling to deal with her new reality.
Maggie introduced them, but Anya only caught the first few names. Nasha, Dani, and Kara. Kara should be on a ship back to Earth by now. She’d decided that life on Liberty wasn’t for her. Why was she still here?
“Kara asked to come even though she’s not staying,” Maggie explained as if reading Anya’s mind.
Kara nodded, but her shoulders were tight and shadows lay beneath the young woman’s eyes with lines of strain around her mouth. She was obviously unhappy about her departure being delayed. One look and Anya could guess why. Carefully manicured nails, artfully styled black hair with streaks of red that were just starting to fade, and a face perfectly painted with cosmetics despite the early hour and the fact they were all facing a crisis. This woman wasn’t built for life in a rural colony.
“I want to help. With the quarantine in place, I can’t go anywhere, so I might as well make myself useful,” Kara said.
“Grab a chair and a drink. If you need anything, let me know and I’ll see what we’ve got in the kitchen,” Maggie said and gestured to several nearby tables.
Dani ignored the food and moved closer to the projection to get a better look at the images. She raised a hand, tracing the pattern of the lesions with her index finger.
That’s when Anya realized why it looked so familiar. Spirals of spots. She had seen this before. “Is that star pox?” she asked.
