Shockball

by S. L. Viehl

  “League Colonel Patril Shropana claims your clone was directly responsible for the loss of life during the Varallan incident. Would you care to comment?”

  Joe started to say something, but a familiar figure pushed in front of him and started spouting League law.

  “My appeal to the World Government Committee has been taken under advisement. We will hunt down this criminal female and bring her to justice.”

  For a moment, Joseph and Patril gave each other ugly looks, then went their separate ways, still pursued by the media. Hawk reached over and switched off the vid.

  “They search for you—the Shaman, and now the League forces as well. The entire property surrounding the estate has been combed every day. Joseph Grey Veil has not yet found the tunnels, but we think it will be soon.”

  “I see.” I regarded Hawk. “Why didn’t anyone tell me Joseph had you kicked off the Four Mountains reservation? Why the fairy tale about Rico’s exodus?”

  He just gave me that inscrutable Indian stare.

  Oh, I forgot. I was still the resident leper. “Fine. I’ve seen the vid. Go away.”

  “Rico has summoned you to the sweat lodge. You will come with me now.”

  “No, she won’t.” Reever stood in the doorway. He sounded exhausted and none too happy.

  Hawk shuffled around to address him. “She is in no danger.”

  “He had four of her ribs broken the last time he saw her.” He wiped his face on his sleeve. Why was he so dirty and sweaty? “She is not going anywhere near him.”

  Hawk made an impatient gesture. “If she does not come now, he will come to her and do worse.”

  I wasn’t risking more of my ribs or Reever getting into another knife fight. Besides, the last thing I wanted to do was hang around and hear what he had to say about my big confession.

  “I’ll be fine.” I picked up my medical case and followed Hawk out of the alcove. When I passed Reever, he put out an arm to block my exit.

  “I will be waiting for you.”

  “Sure.” Maybe I’d stay in this sweat lodge for a few weeks.

  I followed Hawk out to the central cavern. My position allowed me a good view of his distorted spine. I’d never seen a case of scoliosis outside of a dimensional training unit, but Hawk’s spine had such a marked curvature that only surgery involving extensive bone grafting would straighten it.

  “I wish you’d reconsider letting me take a look at your back.” When he didn’t respond to that, I sighed. “Okay. Why don’t you tell what a sweat lodge is, then?”

  “A place we use for sweat baths, to purify the mind and body.”

  “Bathing in sweat doesn’t make you pure.” I shuddered at the thought. “It makes you stink.”

  “It cleanses the mind and the body, and balances the soul.” When I would have said more, he shook his head. “You have never experienced it. Wait and see for yourself.”

  I could reserve my opinion, but no amount of waiting and seeing was going to convince me sweat did anything but smell.

  Hawk led me past the central fire and to a small, domed structure set far back into one corner of the cave. Some kind of mud had been used to seal the spaces between the stacks of flat rock and arched boughs forming the outside of the sweat lodge.

  “What’s in there?”

  “Darkness, heated stones, steam, and fire.”

  Oh, brother. “How about I wait outside?”

  “It is nothing to fear.” He gave me a twisted smile. “The sweat lodge is like the womb of a mother. Within is darkness, like the time before birth, before learning and knowing. The heated stones are the approach of life, and the hissing steam the power of creation. The fire is the undying light of eternity.”

  “Very poetic.” I folded my arms. “I’d still like to wait outside.”

  “Go on.” He pulled back some kind of a small, tightly woven hatch and gave me a little push. “They’re waiting for you.”

  Inside the extremely hot, smoky, humid interior was a circle of men sitting around a pile of rocks stacked over a low fire in a shallow pit. They were all stripped down to the skin. One of the men was shaking a wet bundle of straw over the hot stones.

  The dark man sat at the head of the circle. His shadowed face lifted, and he stared directly at me. I wrapped my arms around my waist and waited.

  “Patcher.” Rico pointed to an empty place at the foot of the circle. “Sit. We have things to speak of.”

  I sat. The man sitting next to me was passed a decorated pipe, and the smell coming from it made me suspicious. Some sort of drug, I thought, judging by the enlarged condition of his pupils. Maybe a hallucinogen. When he passed it to me, I handed it to the next man without sampling it.

  Milass addressed me next. “Woman, the chief wishes to know why the Shaman persists.”

  I drew a blank. “What Shaman?”

  He pointed in the general direction of the sewer/ subway passages. “The one called Old Joe.”

  “Dr. Grey Veil believes I’m his property.”

  “Why?”

  The smoke was starting to get to me, and I smothered a cough behind my hand. Explaining that I was a virtually immortal clone wasn’t the prudent thing to do. I had no idea how the Night Horse felt about genetic engineering. “He tested some of his medical theories on me.”

  “Which theories?”

  “Improvements on my immune system and brain development.”

  Rico leaned over and murmured something to Mi-lass, who nodded and muttered something back. They did that for a couple of minutes.

  “Excuse me.” The lack of oxygen made me lightheaded. “Can I go now?”

  “No,” Milass said at once. “You will answer other questions.”

  “Okay. As long as I don’t pass out first.”

  The subsequent questions Milass asked me had nothing to do with genetic engineering. He wanted to know about my childhood, what schools I had attended, and details of my life at The Grey Veils. I answered each briefly.

  Then, unexpectedly, Milass said, “The League commander says you are a murderer.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Milass smiled sourly. “Both the Shaman and the League offer a great reward for your recovery. Perhaps we should take advantage of it.”

  “Perhaps you should.” I got to my feet. “May I go now?”

  “No,” Rico said to Milass.

  The psycho dwarf pointed to the ground. “Sit.”

  I sat.

  Milass continued to question me about my youth. It seemed a little ludicrous, to be sitting there talking about entertainment privileges and meal schedules with a bunch of drugged, naked men, but I dutifully reeled off the facts. With each sentence, I became aware of how closely everyone was listening.

  Why? What did my childhood have to do with Joe and the League hunting me?

  At last Milass stopped and abruptly gestured to the hogan’s entrance. “You go now.”

  “May I ask a question before I do?”

  Rico nodded. Milass gave me the go-ahead.

  “I saw an alien man in the tunnels. His name is Dhreen; he’s from Oenrall. Do you know him?”

  Milass consulted with Rico, then said, “Yes. He has sanctuary here.”

  He was probably spying for Joseph. But if he was, why hadn’t Joseph stormed this place? “Why does the Night Horse provide sanctuary to an alien male?”

  Rico muttered something to Milass.

  “We do not explain ourselves to liars.” The little twerp grinned and pointed to the door. “Leave.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Centerfield

  I emerged from the sweat lodge more confused than when I had gone in. My tunic was soaked with sweat, and I smelled of whatever they had been smoking in that pipe. I needed a thorough cleansing, a cool drink, and a place to hide and think things over.

  Why was Rico so interested in my past? Why not ask me himself? Was having Milass as his mouthpiece supposed to impress me? Intimidate me? I didn’t get it.

>   My guards took up their positions on either side of me, and I gave up the idea of hiding out somewhere. Might as well go back and face the music.

  All thoughts of Rico and bathing and confronting Reever disappeared when I heard a woman laughing from the alcove and walked in to find Reever sitting on the exam table, apparently talking with a young Indian woman. She had her hand on his chest, her fingers playing with the lace of his shirt.

  I wondered how she’d look after an amputation to the elbow. “Having fun, you two?”

  She turned, and I saw it was Rico’s girlfriend, Ilona something. The same woman who’d hit me after the chief had murdered Wendell.

  Since I wasn’t zoned out with hysterical shock this time, I noted all the usual reasons to loathe her—she was absolutely gorgeous. Long, glossy black hair, golden skin, and exotic dark brown eyes. She had wrapped herself in a biil woven in a scarlet-and-white pattern that set off her coloring beautifully.

  Suddenly I felt grubby.

  Ilona sniffed the air. “Do you never wash, patcher?”

  Very grubby. “Maybe I’d have more time if I didn’t have to deal with people loitering around Medical.” I went to the cleanser unit and started unfastening my tunic. When I felt the Indian woman watching me, I pulled a privacy screen between me and them.

  I took my time cleaning up, while Ilona continued her conversation with Reever as if I were invisible. She did most of the talking, going on about her last visit topside and how Rico was going to raise a new hogan for them up there as soon as the shockball season concluded. Harmless stuff, but it was the way she said it—in that breathy, female voice, punctuated with coy little giggles—that really got under my skin.

  Finally I was clean, and dressed. I shoved aside the screen, startling Ilona, who merely frowned at me and then kept going on about some rug she was weaving. Evidently she planned to stay here all day and chatter, and Reever wasn’t doing anything to discourage her.

  “I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but could you excuse us?” I said to Ilona. “I need to talk to my husband.”

  “I came to hear about Nilch’i‘s recent dance with death.” She gave Reever a brilliant smile. “Tales of daring intrigue me.”

  “Yeah?” Something green and ferocious snarled inside me. “Here’s what happened: His kidney failed and I cut him open and fixed it. That’s the whole story, so run along now.”

  She didn’t. “You take all his fire from him.”

  Keeping the peace until I could figure a way to get me and Reever out of here was important. More important than knocking her on her backside. “I keep him warm enough, Red Face.”

  Her pretty mouth became a thin, tight line. “Red Faun.”

  “Whatever.” I gestured to the entrance. “Good-bye.”

  She sauntered over, tossing her head so her hair swung like a black silk curtain. “The chief utters your name too often. I grow tired of hearing it.”

  “Really.” I showed her some teeth. “Does the chief also mention he’s keeping me and my husband as prisoners here?”

  “Now that the whiteskin patcher is dead, Rico says we need you.” She spat on the floor. “I say the blood needs no part of a lying snake.”

  The tribe had once compared me to a goddess. Now I was a snake. Why couldn’t I make normal friends, like everyone else? “Instead of flirting with my husband, why don’t you have a little chat with your boyfriend, see what you can do to get us out of here.”

  That made her mad, judging by the way she shoved me back. She called me something, too—something that my wristcom refused to translate.

  I returned the favor. “Look, Pocahantas, do whatever you want. Just leave.”

  A moment later we were down on the stone floor, her on top of me. She got in one good left to my chin before I rolled her off my newly healed ribs and slammed her into a storage container. Before things could get worse, strong hands yanked us apart.

  “Let me go,” I muttered, twisting to free myself from the restraining grip. “I’m not going to hurt her. A lot.”

  Reever was pulling Ilona up from the floor, helping her regain her balance, and totally ignoring me. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Hey. Hey.” I pushed at the hands gripping me. “Damn it, let go!”

  Odd-shaped fingers clamped down harder on my shoulders. “That’s enough, Doc.”

  I froze, then shook the loose hair out of my face so I could see. This time I definitely wasn’t hallucinating. “Hello, Dhreen. Take your damn hands off me.”

  My Oenrallian ex-friend hauled me over to the cleansing unit instead. Reever, I saw, was leaving with Ilona.

  Had I really been afraid to face my husband? Now I was ready to rip his lungs out through his nose. “Reever, don’t you go anywhere.”

  “Settle down, Doc.” To my husband, Dhreen said, “You’d better give me a few minutes with her.”

  As my husband led her out of the alcove, Ilona fired her parting shot. “I am not done with you, snake.”

  “Come and see me anytime, Red Face. Anytime.”

  As soon as they disappeared, I twisted out from under Dhreen’s spoon-shaped fingers on my arms and whirled on him. “You can get out, too.”

  He only grinned and thrust his hands in his trouser pockets. “Not content to see me again, Doc?”

  “I’d hoped to be spared the pleasure.” I pushed my hair back and refastened the clip holding it off my face.

  Two years hadn’t changed Dhreen, who still looked like an oversized kid. Oenrallians didn’t appear to age until mid-life, which for them was around one hundred and fifty revolutions. He still sported his mane of blazing orange hair, out of which sprouted two red nubs that weren’t horns, but his version of ears. He wasn’t wearing the usual pilot’s flight suit, but his gaudy purple tunic and trousers suited him just as well.

  “It’s been an extended interval, hasn’t it?” He was giving me the once-over. “You haven’t changed at all.”

  “Spare me the ‘gosh, it’s good to see you’ speech.” I stripped the exam table and remade it. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Joseph have another spy mission lined up for you?”

  “We need to talk about that.”

  I dumped the dirty linens in the sterilizer unit. “I heard all I wanted to hear the last time I saw you.”

  That had been on the Perpetua, after I had turned the League fleet over to the Hsktskt. When Joseph had revealed he’d hired Dhreen to take me to K-2, become my friend, and report back to him on my activities.

  “You only heard Grey Veil’s side of it—not mine.”

  I cleaned out the lines on the infuser rig, using compressed air. The flatulent noise expressed my opinion better than I ever could.

  “There were just intentions for what I did.”

  I ran out of things to clean, and walked to the entrance of the alcove. Or tried to. He caught my sleeve.

  “Stop disregarding me, Cherijo.”

  “Ignoring.” I couldn’t help correcting the way he slaughtered the Terran language. “I’m ignoring you, you stupid jerk.”

  “I didn’t do it for compensation.”

  “How noble of you. Excuse me, the waste level is getting intolerable in here.”

  That didn’t shake him off. “I was hopeless. I’d already gone to the League and everyone else I could think of. They all declined to aid me.”

  “Uh-huh.” I studied my nails, which were as usual in deplorable condition. Maybe I should just surgically remove them and save myself the grief. “Are you done now?”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. We were friends.”

  “Yes, we were.” That got to me, when nothing else would have. “So you can imagine my shock when I found out you worked for Joseph. It’s not the first time you’ve sold someone out. We both know that.”

  Dhreen winced at my reference, but then, he should have. He’d transported me from Terra to K-2, and served with me on board the Sunlace, acting like nothing more than a good frien
d. In reality he’d been hired by Joseph to do just that—be my friend, follow me around, and report back on what I did. I’d only found out when the League cornered us in Varallan, and Joseph had openly gloated over it.

  I smiled at his discomfort. “You know, you really shouldn’t keep doing this. Betraying people, I mean. I’m nice. The next victim may decide to separate you from your genitals.”

  “I didn’t have a choice. He promised to help my people.”

  “Fascinating as I’m sure that particular story is going to be, I’ll pass on hearing it. Now, I want you out of here. Now.”

  “Doc—” He let go of me. “Fine. Maybe, like you say, I deserve it. But I didn’t pretend to be your friend to get close to you. I’ve never had a friend, before you.”

  “Treat the next one better,” was my suggestion as I watched him go. “If anyone is ever stupid enough to trust you again.”

  I didn’t allow myself to think about Joseph, Dhreen, or how I was going to get out of Rico’s underground prison. Over the following weeks, my focus was making sure nothing went wrong with Reever’s kidney, scanning my patients for syphilis (so far I’d found no new cases among the Night Horse), and finding a way to elude my guards so I could track down the outcasts. I could escape later.

  One of the players I treated told me Joseph had several Elders from the Night Horse village detained and brought to New Angeles for questioning. To add insult to injury, the League had set up a command post just outside the village.

  Reever disappeared for long stretches of time, generally at night. Ilona started hanging out at Medical, hoping to catch him on one of his infrequent visits. She harassed me. I ignored both of them for the most part.

  Then there were days I didn’t.

  “There is no reason for you to be hostile toward Ilona,” Reever said, after preventing another tussle and sending his new groupie out of Medical.

  “I see.” I thought about punching him, but started his weekly exam instead. “Take off your tunic.” I looked over his compact musculature, and an awful image of him naked with Ilona on an exam table coalesced in my head. “Why are you defending her?”

  “Ilona is young and only wants attention.”