Shockball

by S. L. Viehl

  That bothered me. Why was he really sending his people back to the surface? He’d led them from Four Mountains, started a new tribe, and moved underground rather than stay on the reservation and live under “whiteskin” laws. Now he was funding the way for the Night Horse to rejoin the mother tribe?

  Could he be trying to deliberately infect the Navajo, and through them the general population, with syphilis? It might take months, even years before someone identified the cause and treatment for the disease, and by then it would constitute a worldwide epidemic.

  I rejected that idea at once. Sure, Rico might slit someone’s throat, or beat up his girlfriend. But he wasn’t sophisticated or psychotic enough to attempt that kind of random, global destruction. Someone like my creator might pull it off. But the Night Horse chief was no Joseph Grey Veil. Besides, Rico still thought the disease was a curse from the gods.

  Hawk explained that the first day of the T?ééjí was devoted to the purification and consecration of the special hogan built for the ceremonials. Hawk called it “The Day of the East.”

  “Today we perform the first rite of exorcism, the breath of life,” Hawk said to the crowd gathered around the Night Way hogan. “There will be prayer ritual, the cleansing of the sweat bath, and honor to the sacred mountains.”

  I refrained from pointing out there weren’t any mountains around, and went in for a few minutes to watch the festivities.

  It was interesting, in a Navajo kind of way. Hawk used special gourds and lots of corn meal and pollen to purify and consecrate the hogan. Everyone chanted without stopping. I wondered idly how much breath control it took to accomplish that, and how many sore throats I was going to have to treat tomorrow.

  “Here.” Hawk thrust something covered with beads and feathers in my hands. “Offer this up to Changing Woman for us.”

  It was some kind of elongated pot filled with ground, dried corn. “Urn, I don’t exactly know any prayers,” I told him.

  “Cast it into the fire, and say what you will.”

  I went to the fire, and shook out some of the corn-meal over the flames. Prayers. Right. Like I knew.

  Might as well keep it simple. “Changing Woman, accept this offering and bestow your blessings here.”

  Despite my cynical attitude toward religion, performing the offering moved me. The smell of the corn burning was sweet and pervasive. I could almost feel the weight of the eyes watching me. Beyond that, there was a feeling of connection to something I’d never recognized in myself before.

  Come on, Cherijo. Next thing you know you’ll be abandoning your laser to hold sings for injured patients.

  The assembled repeated what I’d said, only in Navajo. I turned to hand the pot-thing back to Hawk. He looked amused.

  “Your blood is red after all, patcher.”

  I stayed until the purification rites were through, then headed back to my alcove to check on my patients and make sure Rico hadn’t recovered from his hangover and come looking for a heart-less Ilona. Reever was feeding the cats, but I spotted his shock-ball uniform hung over one of the containers. I kicked it over, and that got his attention.

  “You know I must do this, Cherijo.”

  “We didn’t get around to discussing why the other night.”

  “Not for the reasons you think.” He picked up Juliet. Since he was her favorite human, she let him. “We’ll talk after the game.”

  Shropana’s mechanical heart was still ticking, but he was very weak and couldn’t be brought out of sedation just yet. I made note of his vitals and ran some routine cardiac screens. The native heart was functioning at about twenty percent, which was enough to keep it alive. The Jarvik did the rest of the work. Due to his advanced age, recuperation would probably take a few months.

  Ilona was in much better shape, although I’d immobilized her in multiple bonesetters. She wasn’t going anywhere for a while, either. She also tested positive for first-stage syphilis, which made me wonder if she was the carrier. I just couldn’t picture her with Hawk. Since she was asleep, I didn’t wake her, but added her meds to her infuser line.

  I moved the privacy screen back in place, and stacked the containers we’d been using to help conceal Ilona’s presence. Then I sat down to watch Reever dress.

  “I hate to admit it, but you look good in protective padding. How much longer are you going to have to do this?”

  “The World Game is next week.” He strapped on his shoulder padding and pulled his jersey down over it. “Why were you surprised that I enjoyed the competition? All cultures participate in some form of sport.”

  “Shockball is not a sport. It’s an excuse to electrocute people.”

  “Avoiding penalties is quite exhilarating.”

  “So is avoiding my bad side.” I went over and kissed him. “Don’t get on it anymore.”

  “Patcher.”

  I went back behind the partition, and found Ilona awake and agitated. Now that the meds had worn off, I wondered how much of a fuss she was going to kick up about being under my care.

  “Hi.” I checked her abdomen and saw that the inflammation around her ribs had gone down considerably. Sympathy pains still made me grimace. “How are you feeling?”

  “Foolish,” she said. Her face, still beautiful despite the swelling and the bruises, was serious. “You saved my life. Why?”

  “I was bored and had nothing better to do.” I sat down beside her berth. “Mind telling me how you got mixed up with someone like Shropana?”

  “I saw him on the vid broadcast. I thought it was a good idea. I could give you to him and get money for my people. I went up to the surface to seek him out.” Ilona closed her eyes. “He said he wouldn’t hurt anyone. He only needed to know how to get into the tunnels.”

  “He lied, but then, he’s good at that.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Does Rico think I’m dead?”

  I sighed. “Ilona, Rico wanted you dead. Rico tried to kill you. Rico gave you to me so I could kill you.”

  “He will kill me as soon as he finds out I am alive.”

  I thought of the outcasts. “Not necessarily. I can help you get out of here, but I need some information first.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  I was almost positive she was the carrier, but I couldn’t exactly accuse her of sleeping her way around the tribe. How did I put this diplomatically? “You were infected with a sexually transmitted disease called syphilis. It’s very contagious. I need to know how many men you’ve been with so I can treat them.”

  “One.”

  “Ilona, this is really important. Don’t kid around, okay? Tell me their names.”

  “There has only been one. Rico.”

  “But Hawk was infected, and some of the outcasts, and—” I stopped. “Just Rico?”

  She gave me an ironic look. “Do you think Rico would share his own woman with the rest of the tribe?”

  “No.” That put a lot of things into swift perspective. “So you’re telling me you’re not his only woman.”

  Ilona sighed. “It is not the old way, but Rico takes whoever he wants. He told us it was his right. We do not have the kind of sexual taboos the whiteskin have. Though Rico forbids our women to be with more than one man, our men can have as many woman as they wish.”

  I wonder how the logistics of that actually worked out. “It has to be one of the other women, spreading it to the men.”

  “No, they were infected by Rico, too.”

  “He has sex with other men?”

  “Of course.” Ilona didn’t blink. “He enjoys taking whoever he wants—whenever he wants.”

  “Great.” No wonder Hawk refused to tell me where he’d gotten the disease. Since Ilona was tiring, I told her to rest and moved the privacy screen back into place.

  I turned around to see Dhreen standing in the entrance to the alcove. He looked like someone had tried to feed him through a disposal unit.

  “Where is she?”

  “Out making
new friends already?” I went over to help him get to a berth.

  He wouldn’t let me touch him. “I tried to stop him, and then they said he’d given her to you.” He grabbed the front of my tunic with his bloody spoon-fingered hands. “Did you cut her up? Did you?”

  “I didn’t cut anybody up, and when I do, I sew them back together.” I glanced down at his hands. “Do you mind?”

  He let go. “Where is she?”

  “Ilona, right?” He nodded, and I pointed to the privacy screen. “She’s back there.”

  “She’s alive?”

  I thought about torturing him a little, then decided not even Dhreen deserved that. “Yes.”

  All the color drained out of his face and he started sliding toward the floor. I grabbed him and hauled him over to my exam table. Slinging him up on it was even more fun.

  “Did Rico do this to you?” I said as I scanned him. he was more battered and bruised than Ilona was.

  “He doesn’t like anyone obstructing his judgments.” He latched on to my wrist. “She’s going to be okay?”

  Evidently Dhreen had a little love quadrangle going on between him and Ilona and Milass and Rico.

  “With a little time and care, yes, she will. Glad to see you’re concerned with someone other than yourself.” I put his hand down at his side and calibrated a syrinpress. “What’s the matter, she owe you money or something?”

  “It isn’t like that.” He closed his eyes.

  “Would you mind telling me exactly why you’re down here?”

  He didn’t look at me. “It’s not because of you, if that’s what you think.”

  “Pardon me if I find the coincidence a little tough to swallow.”

  “Your parent didn’t require my services after we reached Terra. I didn’t have enough credits to purchase a new ship, so I hired myself out for surface transport.”

  “The kind legitimate transportation companies wouldn’t touch, I imagine.”

  His mouth curled. “You know me too well. I got word of this place in the tavern district. The chief hired me to convey the players to regional games and do a little resource management on the side.”

  “Smuggling, you mean.” I infused him. “Good story, Dhreen. I almost believe it.”

  “Doc.” He opened his eyes. “You’ve got to get her out of here before Rico finds out she’s still alive.”

  “I plan to. Forgive me if I don’t ask you to help.”

  “I don’t care what happens to me. Just get her away from him.” The painkiller I’d administered started taking effect, and his voice slurred. “Please, Doc. Keep her away … from … him….”

  I finished my scans and set his collarbones and right shoulder, then sutured the various cuts and gashes he’d gotten. He still looked like a kid, just the same way he had when he’d picked me up on Terra.

  My mouth thinned. Dhreen was a grownup, just like the rest of us. He’d lied his way into my life one time, and there was no way I was going to extend a second invitation.

  I couldn’t allow Hawk and the others to keep fooling themselves with Indian rituals and protocol—if Ilona had told me the truth, it was possible Rico had infected nearly every adult in the tribe. Since members of the tribe were not only going topside to play shock-ball, but were also moving back to the Four Mountains reservation, the disease could easily get out of control.

  Way out of control.

  Modern doctors would have a problem diagnosing and treating patients with syphilis. Their diagnostic units would identify the treponema pallidum bacteria, but it had been so many centuries since the last reported case of STD that I doubted if any symptomatic or treatment files even existed. They’d probably think it was something new, and waste months going through the World Drug Administration’s painstaking procedural process to have a standardized inoculate approved.

  If there was one thing a sexually transmitted disease didn’t need, it was months to spread.

  There was also the very strong possibility that, once prevalent among the general public, the syphilis would mutate into different strains. Strains developed in crossbred carriers would be resistant to Terran antibiotics, creating a whole new set of headaches, and possibly an incurable mutation.

  I went to the consecrated hogan to talk to Hawk. From the outside of the door, I could hear he was in the middle of one of his unending prayer sings.

  “The ts’aa has a pathway to the coming dawn.

  The pathway leads out to the edge of the world,

  The place that can be felt by the singer in the dark,

  The place that opens to the dawn in the east—

  Here under the east, it is a holy place,

  Here beneath the triangle stone, it is a holy place,

  Here at this consecrated hogan, it is a holy place,

  Here at this fire, it is a holy place Holaghei …”

  My guards took up position on either side of the hogan.

  It was purely superstitious nonsense, but the words throbbed in me. My unruly Indian blood again. No matter how the clinical side of my brain attacked the problem, I still felt the draw of my heritage, the beauty and serenity of the Night Horse way.

  Compelling, but it wasn’t going to kill off a single treponema pallidum.

  That was the end of the song. The occupants of the hogan filed out, carrying baskets of corn that had been blessed, to use for the evening meal.

  After the last person left the hogan, I stepped inside. Hawk was sitting in an awkward position, obviously in deep meditation. I waited another few minutes, then politely cleared my throat.

  “Patcher.” He opened his eyes. “Changing Woman smiles upon you.”

  “Changing Woman would be yelling, if she had my problems.” I went over and sat down beside him. How would one of the tribe ask him? “I need your help, hataali.”

  “I am here for you.”

  “I know who is the syphilis carrier. Ilona told me, and I don’t think she would lie about that. Rico is the one responsible for infecting the tribe. For infecting you.”

  Hawk didn’t respond.

  “The silent treatment isn’t going to work this time. As much as I respect you, and want to honor your traditions, I can’t continue to stand back and do nothing.”

  He got up and hobbled over to the fire. He crouched down and prepared two cups of tea, and handed one to me. When I took it, he said, “It would be like asking a bird not to fly.”

  “Or a hataali not to sing.” I sipped the tea, which was hot, dark, and pungent with fresh herbs. Crushed mint leaves swirled around the bottom. “How would you feel, if you were in my place?”

  “Torn between two worlds. As I feel now.” He stared into his cup.

  I still didn’t understand what it was about Leyaneyaniteh that kept him in the underground. Hawk didn’t belong here. He belonged where he could feel the sun on his face—

  I looked down at the tea leaves in my cup. The baskets of corn. The pot of stew bubbling over the central cavern cooking fire. Something that had been subconsciously bothering me for weeks suddenly snapped into focus.

  “What more must you do?”

  I put aside the new mystery to deal with matters at hand. “First, I absolutely must send a signal to the doctors at the Four Mountains reservation. The reservation medical facilities have to know what the disease is, how to test the general population for it, and what to administer as a cure.”

  “The chief is the only one of us with access to any communications equipment, and it is all located within the arena.”

  “I need to examine Rico. Can you get me in to see him?”

  He hobbled over to the door and looked out into the cavern. “Rico has gone to the surface, to make arrangements for the entire tribe to attend the World Game. He will not be back until the day before the game.”

  That was a week. “What about testing the other members of the tribe here?”

  “They will not voluntarily allow you to examine them, not until you pass the initiation c
eremonial. The chief left instructions to accept you back into the tribe only after you passed the test.”

  I clenched my teeth. All that meant was a big fat no to everything I’d asked. “How long until the initiation?”

  “It is held in four days from now.”

  “I guess you can’t move it up on the schedule.” He nodded. “Terrific.”

  “Will a week make that much difference?”

  “This is a STD. A single night of romance makes a difference.” I put the tea down and joined him at the door. “All right, Hawk. Out of respect for tradition, and because I have no other choice, I’m willing to wait one more week. But call off the guards. You can do that much for me.”

  He smiled. “Very well.”

  I smiled back. Respect for tradition had gotten me exactly what I needed.

  Reever finally contacted and arranged a rendezvous with the outcasts. On the third day of the T?ééjí, we moved Ilona out of Medical and into the outer tunnels. Dhreen, whom I’d reluctantly allowed to visit Ilona daily, insisted on going with us.

  “You do one thing to mess this up,” I told him, “and I’ll tell the chief all about this little love affair of yours.”

  “You would not do that to Ilona.”

  “I’d do it to you. Speaking of Ilona, you’d better watch your step there, too.”

  Dhreen looked hurt. “I care for her.”

  “I’ve seen how you treat people you care for. Just how did you two lovebirds get together, anyway?”

  “We’re not together. Not literally.” He looked down at the litter he was carrying with Reever. Ilona was asleep. “This isn’t the initial time the chief employed his fists on her. I saw him knock her down the first time I came here. Since then, I got her away from him when I could. She told me she had no option but to be with him. I know all about that. We became friends, then …” He shrugged, embarrassed.

  I looked sharply at him. “Then you’d better remember what I said.”

  The outcasts were waiting for us as we emerged into the sewers.

  “Patcher.” A very healthy-looking hybrid led his group out of the shadows. He grinned at me and slapped Reever on the shoulder. “Nilch’i‘. They say nothing can catch The Wind in the arena.”