Benton looked at him wrinkling his nose and said, “That is really gross man. I guess you will be getting that promotion now, huh?”
“Maybe. I saw them go down with the mining cart you know. I wrote down every detail of that day in my report, but with the dust and wind that day nobody can corroborate my statement. You know that Gatton has been a bit tougher on us than usual lately. Who could blame him with that Drylon ship missing at the same time? I only hope that this will give him some assurance that the prisoners didn’t escape. I found two men crushed by a heavy gravel cart and burned. I only hope that this is enough evidence to convince him that they didn’t escape.” He took his gloves and put them in the side pocket of his pack. He did his best to not make a big deal of the climb and began to coil the rope around his elbow and through his hand. The rope was long and it took some time. Two of the other guards, Gabe and Tordor, started to help him gather the line. He tied the end around the coil and hooked it onto the metal clip.
Tordor asked, “Are you going to speak with Gatton now?”
“No. First, I think that it’s in my best interest that to be sure that these are Theron remains. I don’t want to tell him I brought him remains of the two escaped prisoners and find out that these bones are not even from someone of the Theron race. You know as well as I do that if I am wrong it will be my death sentence. Think about what happened to our last supervisor.” He looked to each of the other guards in turn and said, “You guys had better get back to your stations before they realize you are gone. There is no telling what those scumbag prisoners are up to. I just hope that climbing down that cliff is my ticket out of guard duty.” He started walking in the direction of Jenaya’s cave and looked back yelling, “Well, go on!”
To Carel’s relief, the guards went back to their sectors to watch the men he hoped he could free. He took the long way to the cave to make sure that he was not being followed. It was a kind of blessing to be returning as the sun set. The path he walked was nearly dark now. The only thing that lit his way was the dim light cast by the moon. It was unbelievable that just forty years ago this planet was a lush and green environment with blue skies as far as the eyes could see. The oceans, lakes, and communities, used to spread out at the edges of the mountains. This planet was now rendered a veritable wasteland. It was so dry and arid. The atmosphere was starting to show signs of collapse. Already, the capital city was under a dome. Pretty soon if something weren't done, if Gatton’s rule did not end soon, he would likely never be able to return to the planet that his grandfather had called home. It would end up just like UV-49. “Doctor?” he said just outside the opening of the cave. It was late and he did not want to walk in on her unannounced.
“Come in,” he heard her say as he ducked his head under the opening of the cave. There were two new patients and Mattie was still and silent as she slept on her mat. Jenaya had taken the box apart and folded it up to make a pillow for Mattie’s head. Mattie’s condition was not improving. It looked like she was getting worse. Hopefully, she would hold on until they could be rescued. “So, what can I do for you?”
“I found these bones at the bottom of the cliff. I believe they are the two prisoners that are unaccounted for. Do you think that you could examine them for me?” He looked at the two other people in the room studying him. Women at this camp worked really hard. They were responsible for carting off the small rocks and debris on platters and in buckets to get them out of the caves. This would clear the way for the men to hack at the walls with their tools hoping to find gold or other valuable metal veins. They would also distribute water and food to the men. Carel had learned from Zirlo that the women were the means for communications between sectors. They would carry notes with instructions from their leader as well as spread gossip and news around the camp. They rarely had the opportunity to sit down. “Why are these women here?” He said in his sternest voice.
“They came in with gastrointestinal distress. The newcomers to this camp are not used to the unsanitary conditions here. Unfortunately, I have no means of treating them other than giving them clean water that I have boiled myself to keep them hydrated. I have asked the women that are on water duty to boil all water before it is distributed. They say that they can’t do it because they do not have enough large pots to hold the water in for it to be boiled.” She looked at the two women and said, “Please remind them of what I have said. All of the people that came in here recently need to drink boiled water. The prisoners who have been here longer can probably tolerate the drinking water as is. However, all the people from our ship will continue to get sick if this is not done. We are not used to whatever organisms live in this water. Make sure you tell them this.” The two women nodded and left. Jenaya looked at Carel and said, “If we are not able to boil the water, you will need to see if you can get us some water treatment tablets to make the water safe to drink. I have already had one death this week from dehydration. I hate to lose my patients. It is unfortunate enough to lose them when they are old, but the casualty was an adolescent boy.”
She squatted down to check Mattie by gently laying the back of her hand across her forehead. Carel moved beside her and asked, “Is she still not doing well?”
Jenaya began to look as if she would crumble. He could tell from his previous encounters with her that she rarely lost control of her emotions. Now it seemed as if she was starting to lose it. He instinctively reached out to her, but she swiftly moved away and wrapped her arms around herself. He didn’t like having to watch her cry. With her back against the wall, he watched as she slid down to sit on the dirt floor. “I’m not one of the Gods. I can’t save anyone here. I’ve never seen such deplorable conditions in all my life. I am helpless to change what happens here, and if something doesn’t happen soon, I will lose my friend’s mother. Mattie’s getting worse by the hour. The healing salve you brought is not working. It actually looks like it is making her worse. She needs stronger medicine that I don’t have. What am I going to do? I don’t even want to think about looking Brylon in the eyes and saying that I did everything that I could for his mother. I know with the right supplies, the right medicine, the outcome could be very different. But, it’s not and I might not be able to save her.” She lay her head on her knees with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs looking at Mattie. He could see the trail of tears as they made a path down her weary face.
He hated seeing her like this. As her teal eyes filled with tears, it tore at his heart. He wanted to see the strong fire that he knew burned in this woman. The fire that aptly matched her hair. Her hair was the same color of flames with bright purple streaks. He wondered if it was naturally this color. He loved the way that her lip turned up on one side when she was determined and that dimple near the corner of her mouth that made its presence known when she was angry. Never before this moment did he see her this soft, this vulnerable. It broke his heart.
“I know that you need more supplies and medicines and I promise with all my being that I will get every last thing you asked for. I’ll bring it to you when I get back. I’ll even get you those water treatment pellets. I promise Jenaya. I had planned to be gone for a week but, in light of all this…” he looked around the cave, “I will be gone only two to three days. The truth is, the only reason I am leaving at all anymore is to get you what you need and see if Zirlo and Lars made it out. I’m going to free all of these people from this horrible place if it kills me. But, in order to make that possible, I need you to make Gatton believe that the skull and this hand belong to Zirlo and Lars. Can you help me do that?”
“Why is freeing us so important to you Carel?” she asked as she wiped the tears on the dirty sleeve of her shirt.
“My grandfather was born and raised on this planet. He assembled the members of the Drylon council to write the doctrines to petition the Intergalactic Council for admission. My forefathers had to flee to Pernmock to save themselves when all the upper tiers of the government were being exterminated at the same time Gatton put hi
mself on the throne and declared himself Emperor. Now, my planet is dying and I will do whatever I can to stop him from ruining my grandfather’s legacy. My people, as well as many others, have suffered by his hand. Your people are not the only ones that suffer. He oppresses the people that lived here long before he arrived. At the moment, I am working to build a rebel army with several very influential men. If I’m found out, I’m as good as dead.” He sat down next to her and she did not move away as he feared she would. “Help me stop him Jenaya. Help me free your people. Help me free my people.” She remained silent for a while, rocking on her heels.
“Let me see the bones.” She said without much emotion as she pushed herself off the ground and reached out for his hand to help him up. He took her hand and she tugged him up off the floor. A shock, like a bolt of lightning, raced from his hand to his heart. “You might want to let me look at those scrapes while you are here. Though, I doubt that I could anything but clean them.” She said mockingly and when he didn’t reply she said, “What?” as she looked at him quizzically.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” she quickly answered. Her smile was so beautiful.
“You were so upset just a moment ago and now you are smiling and laughing?” He looked at her and he could feel the edges of his mouth curl up in response to the look she was giving him.
“I can’t change what is going on here by myself,” she paused and looked shyly away. “I guess after listening to what you just said, I realized that I am not alone in this. My situation doesn’t seem so bleak anymore. Does that make any sense to you?” When she returned her gaze back to him, she gave him a sidelong smile and her left eye crinkled up just a little bit. She was going to be the death of him.
He nodded not having anything to say in response, he pulled the sack containing the bones out of his bag. It was a bit bulky due to the skull stored inside of it. Before he opened it and displayed the contents to her, he asked her, “Are you alright with this? The bones were burned pretty badly.”
“As are all of our dead by tradition before their bones are buried. Of course, I am. I am a doctor. You should know that I have probably seen much, much worse.” She shook her head and took the bag from him and went to reach inside.
He pulled the bag away from her before she could touch the bones with her bare hands and said, “Let me do that.” He put his hand in the bag and pulled both the skull and hand out of it and laid them on top of the flattened bag that she spread over the work surface of the cot.
“Can you help me move this away from the door and over to the corner to make us less visible from outside?” She brought the oil lamp and set it near the bones and attempted to turn up the flame.
“I wish these lamps were brighter.” She picked up the skull and looked at it carefully. “Did you bring the tools I asked for?”
“Yes. Here.” He gave her the measuring tape and calipers and other tools that he thought she could use. He pulled a flashlight from his bag and handed it to her. “You might be able to see better with this.”
She took the flashlight and turned it on. “Thanks! This is much better. Can you hold this for me?” When he nodded and reached to take the light from her, their hands briefly touched and they both recoiled. She looked away from him suddenly to make it seem that it had absolutely no effect on her at all. But, he could tell it had. She picked up the bones of the hand and instantly went to work examining each digit. “I can see how this man’s hands were mangled from what looks like arthritis and age. The degree of damage to the joints must have been a great source of pain to him. As for the classification of identity, we can eliminate the people of the Pernmock and Uvite race due to the structure of the bones. These hands could only belong to someone of Drylon or Theron decent. Are there members of any other races imprisoned here?”
He shook his head and gave her a questioning look. “Not at this camp.”
“You mean there are others? Other camps?” He nodded and she shook her head, not wanting to believe that this hell was being experienced by others. “Well, comparing them to the races that I have encountered here, at this camp. Pernmock’s have two digits that are opposable. The two outside fingers close inward toward the fingers between them. The digits of a typical Uvite’s hand are much longer when compared to ours. The fingers meet in what would be the center of the palm of our hand. Right here you see?” she pointed to her hand to illustrate her point. “So, the bones would be separated much lower into the hand. They also have one fewer digit, three long fingers, and one opposable thumb. While this hand is muddled, it still may take some convincing to make them think that it was recently broken.”
She put the hand bones down and looked away in deep thought. A moment later she looked up from her trance with eyes wide and retrieved the healing salve and a square of the cloth he had brought to her this morning. Tearing the fabric into thin strips, she said, “I think I have an idea that just might work. Do you by chance have a hammer and a knife in that bag? I need something sharp that I can use to make an incision with and something to break up the bones.”
He rummaged in the bag and pulled out a folding serrated knife. In one quick movement, he opened it and placed on the work surface. Next, he found a hammer with a pick end that he had used to place the anchors into the rock wall on his climb. “Will these do?” He asked. He watched as she began smearing ample healing salve on the digits of the fingers of the hands, followed by wrapping and tying each finger up with the strips of fabric. When she was finished, she surveyed the tools and nodded.
“While I am pretty sure that I can convince Gatton that the skull is from someone of Theron decent, the hand is going to be a tougher sell. You and I know that it is from a recently deceased Theron male, but I am sure that Gatton will bring someone here with some medical knowledge along with him to validate my findings. In all my years of practice, I find that doctors are a funny sort. They don’t believe anything unless it is proven and there is scientific evidence that pushes the findings in one direction or another. Usually, the results should be published and reviewed by peers in the same field of study in order to be conclusive. It may seem crazy, but I’ve found out that this holds true for every race and every doctor I have ever met.”
She was quiet for a short time, carefully attending to her work, “You had said that Lars had his fingers broken when he was captured and questioned before being turned over to the prison camp? Was it one or both of his hands that were damaged? This hand is the right hand and we will have to be sure that his right hand was broken.”
“Both his hands were broken,” he answered.
“When they broke his hands, were all the digits broken?” When he looked at her quizzically, she added, “What I mean to ask is, did they break his thumb also?”
“I know that he had both of his hands broken, but the extent of the damage was to the fingers with minimal damage to the forefinger. Gatton wanted them to leave the thumbs intact. You see, the Emperor maintains that prisoners can still work if their hands are strong enough to grasp the tools. Lars was given special treatment after the damage was done. Gatton had his personal physician set his fingers and bandage them before he was put in the dungeon a week before the transfer to the work camp. When he got here, his fingers were mostly healed. Lars was able to work, but his fingers were stiff.” He looked at her scraping out almost all of the healing balm from the container which bothered him. “What do you think you are you doing? Healing salve is not going to help the bones heal now. Besides, you can’t even imagine just how hard it was for me to bring that in here. That stuff is really hard to come by, you know? I had to barter with one of the little people.”
“The little people? From Blacknor? Well, it is not doing Mattie any good. I think that it has actually made the growths on her face worse. But, I don’t want to talk about that right now.” She checked that she had wrapped each of the fingers with the strips of fabric tightly. She reached for the knife, cleaned it with some of the drinking
water, and passed the blade through the fire several times for good measure. “I don’t have any disinfectant. I hope that kills whatever’s on the blade.” She pulled up her sleeve pointing the tip of the blade in the direction of the bend of her arm.
As loudly as one could whisper, he said, “Wait a minute! What do you think you are doing? Are you crazy?”
“In order for my plan to work, I need fresh blood. Once the hand was burned, most of the cells died. I will not be able to repair the damage that I intend to do to the tiny bones of the fingers without the aid of live cells. If the bones do not show evidence of breakage and repair, I will never convince them that this hand once belonged to Lars. So the only way the salve will do any good, is if I add fresh blood, with live cells to the mix. My blood will have to do.” She returned her attention to the knife on her arm.
“Wait! Let me. I’ll be leaving tomorrow and can seek help if your flame doesn’t kill whatever is on that blade. Besides, a fresh healing scar on me would be easier to explain away. I did, after all, get many cuts and abrasions on my climb.” He rolled up his sleeve and waited for her say something.
“Alright, that’s a reasonable argument.” She reached for his arm and wiped clean the area where she was going to insert the blade. “You might want to look away when I do this.”
“No, I don’t think so. I want to watch you do this.” He retorted with a slight quivering in his voice. So much for trying to act brave she thought.
“Maybe you should sit down while I do this then. Most people have an aversion to seeing blood. In my experience, even the bravest of warriors faint at the sight of their OWN blood.” She helped him to sit on the ground with his back against the wall and looked up at him. Her hands were trembling just a bit as she touched the knife and pressed down firmly into the skin. The blood welled around the knife and she watched it stream down onto the fabric that covered the bones she was about to break. When the fabric was well-saturated with Carel’s blood, she pressed a fresh, clean cloth over the cut and had him continue to tend to it. “Put pressure on that,” she ordered as they watched the mixture start to foam immediately after Carel’s blood was added to the bandage. Now she was racing against time. It was necessary for her to hurry in order to get the outcome she was hoping to achieve. Grabbing the hammer, she brought the bones to a flat rock at the very back of the cave. Carefully using the pick ax side, she randomly tapped on the bones gently but with force until she could hear them crack apart. It was important that she do this with precision. If she were to fail it meant that Carel would be out digging up another buried warrior’s hand, or worse, he might get caught in his lie and be executed by Gatton. She toiled with it for about half an hour before raising her head and saying, “I think that will do it. Now we just have to let it sit for a little bit.” She looked over at him with concern, “Are you alright?”
The Theron Residency (Brides of Theron Book 4) Page 13