Stardoc

by S. L. Viehl

  “Why me?” I asked. “I’m a terrible owner. My work hours really are outrageous. I don’t give Jenner the attention he needs. Why would you want someone like me to own you?”

  “Because you would not own me, Doctor.”

  The big cat definitely had a point. “What would you do?”

  Alunthri rose. “Continue my studies. My former owner was indulgent and allowed me full use of his personal terminal. I am currently studying primitive art and sculpture among aquatic species in this quadrant.”

  A giant alien cat who studied art. “Sounds wonderful. What do I have to do to transfer ownership?”

  “Simply make a record of acceptance with Colonial Administration.” The colorless eyes watched me closely.

  “I’ll file it as soon as I get a few hours’ sleep. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes.” Invisible lines of tension relaxed throughout the Chakacat’s form, and it smiled. “How can I express my thanks?”

  “Let me sleep. As much as possible.”

  “Of course.”

  I looked around through bleary eyes. “We’ll have to work out our living space.”

  Alunthri’s whiskers twitched above a feline grin. “At your convenience.”

  “That would be in, oh, say eight hours. I’m going to bed now, before I fall on my face. Do you mind sleeping on the sofa tonight?”

  “Not at all.”

  I didn’t want to think about what it was going to be like to have two cats, one that could talk back to me. I stumbled over to my sleeping platform and collapsed atop the mattress. An absent thought crossed my mind, and I called out, “Alunthri? Who was your owner?”

  “His name was Alun Karas.”

  Oh, terrific. “I’m sorry. He was my . . . patient.” I was mumbling. “I tried . . . couldn’t save . . . him . . .”

  Exhaustion pushed me into the dark, and I stayed there. Menacing dreams of an epidemic caused by my own negligence refused to grant me peace. I had missed something. Something important. I was failing everyone.

  You saved me, someone murmured next to my ear. You will save others.

  The nightmares dwindled away.

  Alunthri woke me some nine hours later when a message came in from the FreeClinic. The elegant cat immediately went about serving me breakfast while I listened to a tired Ecla relay updates on all my possible contagion cases.

  “The colonists who came in contact with Dalton have all shown improvement during the night.” The Psyoran’s ruffles looked decidedly wilted. “Dalton himself has no more pneumonic symptoms, and is only complaining about his strained back.”

  “What about Rogan?”

  “Dr. Mayer attended him a few hours ago. He came out of the coma, and his lung condition seems to be responding to the latest antibiotic regime.”

  I’d left him dying, and now he was awake and probably giving the inpatient ward as much trouble as he could get away with.

  “Ecla, whatever you did while I was sleeping,” I began in a surly tone, then grinned and said, “keep doing it.”

  She looked down at her drooping frills and stained tunic. “No, thanks. All I did was clean up patients. You wouldn’t believe how much mucous a Trytinorn can cough up on you. I think some of them did it on purpose.” She tugged at her collar. “I’ll have to spend an hour under the cleanser.”

  “Spend a whole day,” I said. “You deserve it.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot—Dr. Mayer would like to see you in his office as soon as you report for shift change.” Ecla added a gentle, rippling gesture of relief. “I’m going home.”

  “See me on your next shift. I want to review your chart notes with you.”

  “That will be in two days. I’ve got to report to the Botanical projects for another allotment, then I’m off duty.”

  “Planting seedlings?” I made a face, recalling my own fiasco.

  “Pruning gnorra trees. It’s not bad for an allotment.”

  “Better you than me. Thanks, Ecla.” I watched Alunthri’s graceful movements as it began to clean up the remains of my meal, and I touched one paw. “You don’t have to do that, Alunthri.”

  “I would like to.”

  “Then, you will make me as lazy as His Majesty over there,” I nodded toward my smaller, napping companion. “Make me a promise, Alunthri. Promise that we’ll treat each other as equals.”

  “Equals?” The word stunned the Chakacat.

  “Sure. That’s what freedom is. Being treated like everyone else is. Since I can’t give it to you out there”—I swept my hand toward the exterior corridor—“I’ll make sure you have it in here.”

  “I don’t know how to respond,” Alunthri said.

  I grinned and pushed it into a chair. “Why don’t you start by telling me what you’d like to have for breakfast?”

  I made a mental note as I left for work an hour later to contact Ana Hansen and update her on the change of situation in regard to the Chakacat. I had already filed for a new license chip for my new roommate.

  The satisfaction this new arrangement brought renewed my spirit. By the time I reached the FreeClinic, I was ready for whatever trouble I was in. I went to MedAdmin and found Dr. Mayer waiting for me in his office.

  “Rogan’s lungs are nearly clear now. I removed the chest drain.” Mayer tossed the chart down. “He’s demanding to be discharged and intends to file charges against you for malpractice—again.”

  “Good. I’ll file assault charges.”

  After the rest of the case histories were reviewed, Mayer paused. We gazed at each other.

  “Ever seen anything like this?” I asked.

  “No.” The chief’s eyes bored into mine. “Nothing.”

  Even though the patients were now recovering, there was no reason they should have gotten sick in the first place. Something had infected them.

  If it had been caused by an unknown viral pathogen, it could be in the process of mutation. A virus’s sole purpose was to invade and parasitize host cells for replication purposes. Sometimes the nasty little bugs went into hiding while they adjusted their attack strategy. Viruses borrowed enzymes from the host, even incorporated themselves into a cell’s chromosomes before they began replicating. Such changes in antigenic character could make the virus even more lethal.

  I made a last grab at another possibility. “What is the likelihood that we’re looking at some kind of drug-induced condition that mimics contagion? One that progresses depending on the amount introduced to the subject’s system?”

  “Analysis indicates no foreign substances, chemical or otherwise.” Mayer held up a stack of data discs. “The complete report from the lab runs. Toxicology, decon, and bio, all ran clear. Nothing.”

  The facts were irrefutable. “There’s no doubt, then. I was wrong.”

  “No.” Mayer tossed the discs back on his desk. “Rogan should have died last night. Karas did. Dalton and the rest displayed beginning stages. You have something here, Doctor.”

  I wanted to shriek with frustration. “But what is it?” “You’re going to find out. Effective immediately, you are relieved from Trauma duty and assigned to research this outbreak exclusively.”

  I shot to my feet. “What?”

  “Sit down, Doctor.”

  “You can’t reassign me now!”

  “I can, and I have.” Mayer was unyielding. “Sit down.”

  I sat. “Why research? For God’s sake, use Crhm, or lab services—”

  “Dr. Crhm doesn’t have your talent for diagnosis. He’s a good physician.” The chief’s jawline hardened. “For this kind of research, I need a genius.”

  I scoffed. “I’m not a genius.”

  “You’re the daughter of one.” That shut me up. The chief went on to briefly outline what he wanted me to do. Under different conditions, I might have been complimented by Dr. Mayer’s faith in me. Circumstances that didn’t involve my father’s legacy, or the lives of the colonists of K-2.

  “I hope you know what you’re
doing,” I said. “If I can’t identify a contagion—”

  “Then I suspect you will be working on this for a very long time,” Mayer said. “Or not long at all.” We were both thinking of the same possibility.

  Epidemic.

  MedAdmin had cleared a large space for my new lab between Clinical Services and Outpatient Testing. It was set up with a self-contained environment, complete with new room seals and the best equipment Dr. Mayer could put his hands on.

  “Very nice,” I said. “All I need is a sleeping platform, and I can move in.”

  I spent several hours trying not to grumble while the maintenance crew moved equipment to my specifications. If I failed to find this bug, it wouldn’t be due to lack of resources. That thought made me unusually testy.

  “I can do this,” I told myself as I fiddled with an electroniscopic scanner. I propped my forehead on one palm and sighed. “No, I can’t.”

  That was when the movers diplomatically decided to take a break. After a moment I followed their lead, left word with MedAdmin, and took a long walk.

  I ended up at the Trading Center. Lisette was currently serving what she called an “English Tea.” I decided to try some of the baked items along with a server of fragrant golden Oolong tea.

  I was sitting by myself, falling in love with something called cherry scones, when the statuesque beauty pulled up a chair next to me. I eyed her warily. “Lisette.”

  “I heard of the excitement with Dr. Rogan,” she said, tossing back her curly mane as she sat down. “He is better?”

  “His condition has improved.”

  “Can you make him sick again?”

  There was a tempting idea. “Sure. Any particular reason?”

  She treated me to a lofty sneer. “He owes me more credits than half the colony.”

  It figured. “File a Charter violation.”

  “I would, but he claims my cuisine was substandard.”

  “He’s a dead man,” I said, and she smiled. “Okay, perhaps a bit extreme. I know, I could inject him with an enzyme to make his mustache fall out.”

  “Oh, no, not the mustache.” Lisette pretended to be horrified. “It is the only part of his face I can bear to look at.”

  I laughed. “Lisette, remind me never to fall behind on my tab.”

  “Unlike Dr. Rogan, you would never do so.” With all the regal dignity she possessed, she leaned closer and placed one long, elegant hand on my arm. “I did not like you at first,” she said. “Now I know you, I respect you, Doctor.”

  “Thank you,” I said and decided to return the compliment, just for insurance purposes. I really liked these cherry things. “And I have never tasted more heavenly cuisine in my life than what you create.”

  “Humph.” She gave me a baleful frown. “You do not eat enough to keep a Rilken alive.” Her gaze softened as she noted the shadows I knew were still under my eyes. “Have you seen Reever lately?”

  As a matter of fact, I hadn’t, not since the Binder incident. I still had no idea if he and Lisette were involved, although her interest indicated some kind of relationship existed. There was also that moment when I’d first met both of them, the way he had touched her cheek so tenderly. I shook my head, and waited.

  “Duncan and I were on Terra together, many years ago,” Lisette said. “I was troubled. My family was gone. Duncan was—Duncan.”

  “You were . . . childhood friends?” was my guess.

  Lisette smoothed a wrinkle from the sleeve of her scarlet tunic. “More than that. At school he was my protector. When I was sad, he knew. He gave me comfort.”

  “You’re talking about Duncan Reever?”

  She frowned at me. “He is a very private man. Very wary of others. Beneath that, he is everything generous.” Just as I began to wonder what form of comfort Reever had provided, she shook her head. “No, no, not like that. He was like a big brother. The others at the school, they were cruel. I was too tall, too thin, too emotional. Duncan wasn’t like anyone.”

  No, he wasn’t. I pictured Reever, then tried to imagine him as a generous, protective young man. Nope, couldn’t do it. I’d have to see photoscans.

  “You don’t see how he looks at you.”

  “Lisette, Reever looks at me the same way he would a rather dull botanical specimen,” I said. “What possible reason would he have . . .” I faltered as I recalled the incident in the grove. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Precisely because you don’t see him, know him as I do, Doctor,” Lisette said. “Duncan has feelings for you.”

  “Feelings for—” I shook my head, chuckling. “No, I don’t think so, Lisette.”

  The tall woman stood. “Pay attention to his eyes, chérie,” she said. “They are the gateway of the soul.” She sauntered away to wait on a new group of customers.

  Whatever Lisette had meant to do by our little “chat,” the result kept me preoccupied until I returned to the lab. I finished with the maintenance crew, and was left to begin calibrating the analysis equipment.

  I completed the last in time to receive a signal hours later via incoming transport. It was a direct relay from Kao Torin’s starshuttle.

  “Kao!” I grinned as the screen projected his features beneath a flight helmet. “Where are you?”

  “I am on the return route from Gra’capa Minor.” The Jorenian had been escorting some League dignitaries around the quadrant. After he’d described some of the amusing details of his mission, he surveyed me gravely. “You have been working too many hours, Cherijo.”

  “I didn’t have a reason to leave the facility, except to sleep or eat.” I wasn’t going to describe the harrowing events of the last two days. “You were gone.”

  “May I suggest a reason?” I nodded. “Docking Station Sixteen,” he said. “I will be landing in two hours.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I had just enough time before Kao’s arrival to make a stop at my quarters and get cleaned up, if I left the lab immediately. As I drove my glidecar toward housing, I wondered why I felt so muddled.

  The unidentifiable pathogen nagged at me, of course. My new responsibilities could theoretically determine the fate of seventy-four thousand lives. What if I failed, and this thing got out of control? I thought back to my orientation with Ana Hansen, when I had warned her of just that sort of scenario. We’d be helpless, and then we’d all be dead.

  On the other hand, this could be just the newest version of the K-2 common cold, and I was simply being paranoid.

  I arrived at my quarters, and greeted the cats. While I was in my cleansing unit, I forced aside thoughts of my professional dilemma and considered the more personal ones.

  Lisette’s revelations about Duncan Reever replayed in my head. That little talk had also left me feeling very uncomfortable. You don’t see how he looks at you, she’d said. Just how was the chief linguist looking at me, anyway? Duncan has feelings for you. Well, if he did, I had never encouraged him. I’d argued with him, yelled at him, and even decked him once, but I’d never encouraged him. No, I decided, Lisette was simply imagining the whole business.

  I fed Jenner and chatted briefly with Alunthri before leaving for Transport to meet Kao. I should have been happy about seeing him again, I chided myself on the way to the shuttle docks. Yet even the Jorenian man in my life had me worried.

  I’d virtually agreed to become his Chosen, but had yet to tell Kao exactly who he was getting himself engaged to. It was bad enough that I was Terran. How would Kao feel when he found out his bondmate-to-be was a genetically engineered clone? Would it destroy the feelings he had for me? Disgust him? How would I find the words—not to mention the courage—to tell him the truth?

  By the way, Kao, my mother was really an embryonic chamber?

  Would it bother you to know that my father is actually my twin brother, too?

  How does your HouseClan feel about complex deoxyribonucleic acid mutations diluting the family bloodlines?

  What frightened me
more than telling him was the thought of losing him. I’d never planned to fall in love, but here I was. Unable to imagine a future without Kao Torin in it.

  When his starshuttle landed, I was pacing back and forth at ramp sixteen. Kao cleared the last of the biodecon scans and walked down the shuttle ramp behind his passengers. His gaze swept over the crowd until our eyes met.

  I expected him to smile, to call a greeting as usual, but instead he went still. An expression of something like pain etched his features as he gazed at me.

  No, not pain. Longing. Hunger. Loneliness. How did I know? I felt the same things.

  Suddenly I was pushing through the crowd to get to him. One moment I was reaching out my hands to take his, the next I was being lifted into the air. Kao’s powerful arms swept me completely off my feet.

  “Cherijo,” he said. My hands touched his face. For once I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He strode down the ramp and carried me off in front of everyone. I hid my face against his flight suit, embarrassed by the very public exhibition we were making.

  Okay, it was sort of romantic, too.

  His glidecar was waiting outside Transport, and he placed me in the passenger’s seat with great care. He took his position behind the controls, and then my hand with his. I was still at a loss for conversation. We drove away, sharing the silence, our fingers entwined. At his housing unit, he helped me from the vehicle and lifted me once more into his arms.

  I liked romance, but this was getting a little ridiculous. “I can walk,” I said with a nervous laugh.

  His smile was reassuring. “Let me hold you.”

  I had been in Kao’s quarters once before, so I didn’t feel uneasy when he finally set me on my feet. What kept me speechless was the way he was staring down at me.

  There was no need for a discussion. I wanted to be with him. I knew he wanted the same. I could feel the tension between us growing, flaring when he touched my cheek with his hand.

  “I must tell you—” he said, but I pressed my fingers to his lips. Men. They never knew when to shut up.

  “Shhhh.” I put my hand over his, and rubbed my face against the broad palm. My eyes never left his. “I’ve missed you.”