Under the black strands were deep red welts. When air hit the exposed spots, she moaned softly. Valyr vanished, then reappeared with some green salve that, when applied, seemed to ease her pain and reduce the flaring red of the wounds. As she worked, she kept a close eye on Savlf’s vitals and murmured over and over to the unconscious woman, “You’re safe. You’re safe now. It will be okay.”
Rachel hoped it would be okay. She’d once been beautiful. Her skin, where it hadn’t been marred by the web, was a creamy matte white, her eyes an unusual shade of blue, and her hair a thick silken midnight black. Her figure was voluptuous, her hands and feet long and elegantly shaped. What Xaddek had done to her mind was beyond obscene. Rachel didn’t know a word bad enough for what he’d also done to her body. Would either completely heal?
She had no answer. Her life still hung very much in the balance.
She realized that CabeX had entered, surprisingly light-footed for his size and metal quotient. His red gaze appeared to be fixed on their patient. His face was not capable of showing emotion, so it was odd that she felt waves of it. With her recent and very sudden surge in interaction with sentient AIs, Rachel felt an odd dissonance about the Najer AIs. She made a mental note to think about it later—
Savlf’s vitals crashed, and there was a period of chaos. When they had her stable again, she realized that CabeX had extended his arm, so that his digits lightly clasped Savlf’s hand. She looked up and saw his gaze lift to meet hers. He didn’t speak, but she found herself answering a question she sensed.
“We’ll do our best,” she promised. “She has a chance,” she added, a better chance because of the Garradian tech in this outpost. “A decent chance.”
No sooner had Rachel spoke when Savlf spiked a fever. She started to go for another IV, but Valyr put a hand on her arm.
“Wait,” he said.
Her skin turned pink, and it almost seemed as if she could see the heat rising over the deep red scars from the webs.
“If she has a seizure—” Rachel muttered.
“If she does, we’ll stop it, but I think it is helping to cleanse her body of the spider poison.”
He could read the various monitors better than she could so she nodded. She felt Valyr’s gaze settle on her face. He grabbed a stool and pushed it closer.
“Sit.”
“You’re tired, too,” she pointed out, but she sank onto the seat. Her legs felt rubbery like they belonged to someone else. Neither of them had talked about what had happened in Xaddek’s spider den, other than to let the rest of the team know the spider was dead. And if she did say something, what would that be? To ask him why he’d vaporized his clone before they headed back? She could think of a good reason that had nothing to do with the Urclock or the dragon ships. If it had been her clone there, she’d have done the same thing. It was…obscene to see it, to know what it had suffered before—
A tremor shook her, and she inhaled deeply, then released it slowly, all without taking her eyes off Savlf’s temperature reading.
“It’s starting to go down,” Valyr said.
All her other vital signs began to steady. They weren’t wonderful yet, but they were better, edging over into “she might make it” better. Valyr gave her a tired smile, running his hands over his hair.
He had to feel almost as bad as Savlf. He’d been defrosted, gone into battle with robots and arachnids. Kissed a girl.
“Why don’t you get some rest?” she suggested. “I’ll do this watch, and then you can spell me.” He looked about to protest. “I’ve had slightly more rest than you,” she pointed out. If they didn’t count the thousand year’s sleep, but she didn’t know how to count that.
He hesitated, then gave a slow nod. He gave an almost vague look around. He might be too tired to find his quarters.
“Why don’t you stretch out in one of the treatment rooms?”
He brightened at this and, after a hesitation that might have included a longing look in her direction, he walked out of her sight.
She turned back to find CabeX regarding her with—no surprise—an expressionless look. She didn’t suggest he get some rest.
“I am able to monitor these,” he said, gesturing at the monitors with the hand not carefully cradling Savlf’s.
She was tempted, more than he realized, but before she could make up her mind, Sir Rupert trotted into the room, trailing…another parrot? Rachel tipped her head to the side, her gaze ranging from one parrot to the other. It was a bit like seeing double. Vaguely she recalled that male and female parrots on Earth tended to look very much alike. In this case, Sir Rupert had a slight advantage in height.
“I wish you to meet Lady Upie, Dr. Frank,” Sir Rupert said, gravely gesturing with a wing sweep.
“How,” Rachel swallowed dryly, “do you do, Lady Upie.” Had he found her here in the outpost?
“Lady Upie was a prisoner on Arachnid Y. We discovered her and other prisoners while ascertaining that she—” his head nodded in the direction of Savlf. “—was not on board.”
She opened her mouth to ask but realized she was too tired. And she might know what the parrot had seen while aboard that ship. Did not want to reveal his top secret super power without his permission. Instead, she directed a concerned gaze on Lady Upie. A prisoner? Did she have the same power as Sir Rupert? She met his gaze and he fluttered his wings.
“She requires medical assessing, though she is in better shape than some of the others.”
“I,” Lady Upie seemed to give Sir Rupert a shy look, “would be grateful for your assistance.”
Her voice was like Sir Rupert’s, only a softer version and she had more of an…accent?
“You’ve had a terrible time, I’m sure,” Rachel said. She glanced back at CabeX. “Call me if you need me?”
He gave her a solemn nod, and the digits of the hand holding Savlf’s folded gently over her hand. Yeah, there was something about that robot that made her scientific instincts twitch.
She followed the two birds out into the corridor. Ahead was a waiting area similar to that on the Kikk Outpost. What was dissimilar were the occupants. Sergeant City waited just outside the waiting area, a shoulder propped against the wall, but she straightened when she saw Rachel approaching. Rachel opened her mouth, felt something brush against her leg and looked down as a huge turtle moved slowly past her, a slightly smaller turtle following. At least, it had the shape and size of an earth turtle, but not anything close to the coloring. These two looked like they’d passed through the sixties on their way here. Strident yellow, orange, red, green, and blue, with lines of black as the only sober note. Psychedelic turtles?
Rachel looked up, still moving closer to the waiting room, her gaze slowly tracking from left to right. One, two—kind of hedgehog looking bundles. They had the right general shape, but again, the coloring was off, though not in a psychedelic direction. It was more subtle than that. Next to them sat OxeroidR with a lone flying squirrel perched on his shoulder. She could see the webbed feet the pleat of its wings. The face shape was off from the Earth version, and its bright gaze was an unsettling purple.
“Moose and squirrel,” City murmured for Rachel’s ears only.
Rachel choked once, but couldn’t disagree with this. All they needed was a Natasha and Boris to complete the picture.
Next to Moose and Rocky were a couple of Panda-like creatures, black and red instead of black and white and the arrangement of the colors looked like it was opposite from their version. Two pure grey swans with their necks entwined and—
Rachel’s gaze stuttered to a halt at the sight of the last bird. The avine creature, she amended. It was also alone. It was a stately creature, painted in shades of gray, royal blue, white and pink, with a vague eagle aspect. It had to be about her height and its claws—she gulped—were each the length of her hand, or longer. Based on its height, she’d estimate each wing to be, she gulped, four times longer than she was high. Its beak was the size of her hand with the fi
ngers extended and its eyes were a mix of black and gold. A tuft of feathers protruding from the back of its head gave it a royal, kingly—queenly—appearance.
Rachel was aware that her chin had dropped again, but knowing what it looked like was no help when she was this shocked, this tired. She turned to meet City’s sardonically amused gaze.
“You missed the Noah procession, I guess,” City said.
“Noah?” Like the ark? Even though the animal count only numbered in the tens, it did make the room look as if Noah had emptied one section of the ark.
“Near as,” City amended. “Apparently, one of the pairs did jobs for the creepy spider, and the other was a hostage to them doing it right.”
Rachel blinked, dropping her voice. “They are all—”
“Sir Rupert has been translating for me,” City said, offering a version of an answer to the question Rachel couldn’t quite ask. “They had quite the…collection of prisoners in the hold, in addition to the prisoners we freed from the brig. There were a bunch of birds, but they seemed to be all right. Sir Rupert supervised their transport to Kikk. There is no way to know where they belong, at least for now. These guys all need to be checked over, some minor injuries tended.”
I’m too tired for this, Rachel thought, gazing at her owl-eyed, which was appropriate. She would have liked to protest that she wasn’t a vet, but actually, she’d done some training with a vet during the summers after her parents—but she didn’t have alien animal training. She half sighed. She’d bet the Garradian systems had stuff that would help. No escape from vet duty.
She stepped further into the room and realized she’d missed seeing two more creatures. RaptorZ sat tucked in that corner with a boa-like creature wrapped around his metal body. Again, the coloring was wrong, and the eyes held intelligence, instead of the flat reptile stare. Next to them, was a half cat, half—horse with a single horn protruding from its forehead. It had its legs tucked in, horse-like, not cat-like. If not for the cat face, whiskers and all, she’d have said it was the closest to a unicorn she’d seen in real life. At least the horn looked horn-like, though more Narwhal—at half the length—than a rhino.
“Okay, then,” she said, giving a shoulder roll. “I’ll start with Lady Upie and then—” her gaze found a Marine manning the desk, “if you’ll take get their names and, um, details, starting from your left, I’ll see them in that order, unless any, um, one, has a critical condition?” She ignored his uncharacteristic look of horror, instead sending a look around the room for anything critical. When none of them claimed a critical condition—or didn’t understand the question, she headed through the center of the Noah herd toward the hatch to the examining area. As if on cue, Bangle began to filter “This is Me” into the room. City’s brows shot up.
“I found the soundtrack in my personal info dump from Earth,” Rachel explained. “I had forgotten I preordered it.” She couldn’t help it. Her shoulders started to move, and she found a second—third wind?—carrying her forward. It was better than an energy drink.
“If you’ll follow me, Lady Upie?” Rachel palmed open the hatch, looking back in time to see the some of the various creatures starting to, well, groove to the music—which was, apparently, a universal language. With a last, sympathetic look at the Mike and City, she let the hatch close between them.
Sergeant Carolina City had faced many challenges and dangers during her time in the Marines, including the mission just completed. But they all seemed like a cake-walk compared to this roomful of alien creatures. She met Corporal Day’s trying-not-to-be-desperate look and gave him a smile she hoped was reassuring.
“Well, let’s see what we can find out for the doc.” She felt something brush against her leg and tried not to jump. It was the caticorn. He was striped like a tabby—gold and white—who had owned her grandma when City was a little girl. When City wasn’t around, the tabby had been “Cat,” but when City was visiting, she was Tiger. She’d only found out Tiger hadn’t stuck when her grandma passed away.
The caticorn let out a sound that landed somewhere between a meow and a neigh. Then it twined itself clumsily between her legs. It was really small for a horse, very big for a cat, its ears reaching just above City’s knees. It somehow managed to keep the horn from snagging anything, which surprised her until she thought about it. It had lived with that thing its whole life. Not a shock it had figured out how not to impale everything or everyone.
She crouched down and tentatively patted it. “Hi. What’s your name?”
“It does not speak Standard,” the squirrel on moose’s shoulder said.
It was either funny or ironic that it sounded a bit Natasha, or maybe that was Boris.
“This is not what I signed up for,” she muttered. The cat-i-corn nudged her hand, and she absently scratched around the horn. The meow-neighing ramped up.
“Well, for now, we’ll call you Tiger. Is that okay?”
The wise, almost old gaze looked up at her with a look that was very cat, very Puss-n-Boots. It almost felt like she? he? winked.
“Never make eye contact with a cat, ma’am,” Corporal Day said, not quite able to keep the amusement out of his voice.
Something, she wasn’t sure what had City looking up. Kraye stood in the opening, regarding her with a look that was well into the enigmatic zone. He looked less Captain Sparrow without the parrot, even though the Captain hadn’t been the one with the parrot. Something flickered in his dark gaze, something that reminded her of a little boy looking into the candy shop with empty pockets.
Don’t make eye contact with the alien guy. She almost sighed. Then she gave him a tentative smile. “We could use some help.”
The sudden lightening of his expression made her heart clench oddly, the clench getting worse when Kraye crouched next to her, his dark hand next to hers on the cat-i-corns back.
“He or she doesn’t speak Standard, so I’m calling him Tiger for now,” she said, her throat dry. Her eyes, too. Under their hands, the cat-i-corn purr-neighed louder.
Savlf shifted restlessly on the healing bed. CabeX came closer so that he could see her and the monitors. She moaned and cried out. He half turned, to summon the doctor, but, according to her vital signs, her condition had not changed.
She was distressed. Her head moved from side to side. Dr. Frank had cleaned her hair, her skin as much as she could without causing further damage, but her ink-dark hair still showed a few gray strands of sticky web. He carefully removed as much as he could see.
What, he wondered, would these people would think if he told them he’d once been a medical doctor, had spent his days healing until the Quh'y had forced him to work for them. He looked up and saw Kraye watching him from the doorway. Kraye didn’t enter. “How is she?”
“Stable,” CabeX told him. He felt self-conscious where his hand held hers, his sad metal hand that could register the warmth of her human hand, but could not feel her skin. Almost, he wished he’d died on Xaddek’s ship. He surrendered so much to live, to survive. It had been worth it to save her, if indeed they saved her body and her mind. Her mind would be the harder task. But he could die now without seeing her eyes open. He did not wish to observe in her gaze what she thought of the monstrosity he’d become. His human heart had quit beating so long ago. Strange to feel pain in that spot after so long.
Kraye hesitated, nodded and moved slowly out of view. CabeX’s attention returned to the patient. The patient. This woman who had called him across the stars, who’d reached out for his help even as she’d helped his enemy attempt to take him over. Neither of them were particularly heroic. She’d damaged him, almost killed him. She’d taken damage for that, and he’d almost killed her trying to save her. Would she know she was safe before—
Her lids flickered several times and then lifted. She stared up, blankly at first, then in confusion.
He wished Dr. Frank were here. There was only him to say, “You are safe.”
Her head turned toward him, her eyes w
ide and filled with fear.
“You are safe,” he repeated, hearing the echo of his computer-dead voice go round the room once more.
“Where…am I?” The fear began to fade in her eyes, but wary replaced it.
“You are—not on that ship any longer.” He did not know how to explain this place to her. “It is safe for you,” he added. “Xaddek—”
She half flinched.
“—is dead.”
She seemed to relax, her eyes closing briefly. “I thought it was a dream.” Her eyes opened, and now she studied him with less wary, more curiosity. “You’re…”
“I am CabeX.”
“CabeX.” She took a shaky breath. “You came. I didn’t think—I hoped…” She sighed again. “I…used to be Savlf,” she murmured, so much sadness in her voice that the ghost of CabeX’s tear ducts burned.
“You will be again,” he told her. She could, but he could not. He could never be himself, could never be human again.
22
General Halliwell was in a tough spot. No question he was in charge of the Expedition members, which included Rachel, Colonel Carey, Sergeant City and all the other expedition people on Central Outpost.
He was not in charge of Valyr, this outpost, Bangle, Savlf, or the robots. And then there was the sentient menagerie. They would all do better on a planet with a non-toxic atmosphere, something that Helfron Giddioni seemed open to arranging in a manner acceptable to the animals. There were also looking into how to get the ones who wanted to home again. Some had no home to return to.
Rachel had had a chance to visit with each one while she played vet. Each had names, memories of home, trauma from mild to severe from being captives of Xaddek, and the capacity to make decisions for themselves. Finally, they were free. They could not, in good conscience, keep them from acting. It went against the basic beliefs of all involved in the expedition. And if it had, the robots would have stepped up to enforce their freedom to choose. If there was one thing that seemed to define the crew of the Najer, it was their deep belief in personal freedom for one and all.
Lost Valyr: Project Enterprise 7 Page 29
