Stardoc

by S. L. Viehl

  “Your father will force you to take part in his research,” Reever said, tilting his head while he watched me tread back and forth. “Or you will be arrested, detained, and probably executed for being the result of an illegal genetic experiment.”

  “Either way my freedom—and possibly my life—is over.”

  “Why haven’t you told anyone, Cherijo?”

  “Who could help me?” I threw out my arms. “Who could I trust?”

  He nodded, and rose to his feet. “I have detained you long enough. Sleep well.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said, astounded. “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Reever, I just confessed to being the freak result of an illegal, inhuman experiment conducted by my own father!” At his blank look I nearly shouted, “Are you going to tell anyone?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  He had crossed the room and was standing before me. As I looked up, he put his scarred hands on my hair.

  “Yes.” He brushed his lips against mine. “Get some sleep.”

  Okay, so he kissed me, I thought as he left. It wasn’t like we were going to get married or anything. Besides, I was already engaged to Kao. Maybe I should have told Reever that. I tugged the red dress off, shrugged on a robe, then fell into the cloudlike depths of my sleeping platform.

  It took a long time to fall asleep. When I did, I dreamed of my father chasing me through chains of bubbles. He was waving a handful of lab slips at me, yelling that it had all been a mistake, that I wasn’t a clone . . .

  The sound of persistent chimes woke me up. I raised my head, dropped it, and groaned. “Who is it?”

  A cheery voice answered. “Your meal, Dr. Grey Veil. Ordered by Linguist Reever.”

  Duncan Reever’s continued existence was in immediate jeopardy, I thought as I got up and trudged over to the door. I had just keyed the panel to open when a blur of movement and brute force spun me around and slammed me to the floor. I felt the cold round mouth of a weapon press on the nape of my neck.

  “Time to go home, Doctor,” the happy voice said. I jerked as a syrinpress was administered directly to my jugular vein. God, what was he shooting in me? The drugs entered my system at once. My muscles began to grow thick and weak.

  “Why?” I said, turning over to see the Dervling from the night before straddling me. He pulled the lifelike mask off to reveal cold Terran eyes and a cruel smile.

  “For enough credits, I don’t have to know,” I was told.

  When all else fails, Maggie had taught me, fake a faint. Gives the jerk a false sense of security. Then nail him.

  I pretended to go limp and slump into total stupor, and felt him lift his weight from me. That was when I jerked my numbed leg up and slammed my thigh hard against his testicles.

  “Ooomph!”

  The weapon fell from his nerveless fingers as white-faced, he toppled over. Through blurred eyes I saw him curl into a fetal position, clutching his wounded genitals.

  Had to get to the door. Had to. The distance I crawled seemed endless. My head struck the wall as I groped for the panel release. Almost there . . . almost—

  An arm clamped around my waist and jerked me back.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” my assailant said, dragging me away. “You’re gonna pay for that, you—”

  The door chimed, and I screamed. “Help me! Help m—”

  I was thrown aside, and my head struck the floor. The effects of the drug settled over me, and my vision dimmed. I heard angry shouting, the thuds of fists, groans of pain. Hands reached for me, but I was too far gone to fight them off.

  The last thing I saw was Dhreen above me, his thin lips tight as they shaped my name.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Clash of Wills

  I woke to find myself back on board the Bestshot, and Duncan Reever standing over me. He was taking my vitals with my own scanner. I swiped at him, trying to take the instrument out of his hand.

  “What . . . happened?” I said, then groaned as the headache behind my eyes made itself known. With a vengeance.

  He handed me the scanner. “The Terran pretending to be a Dervling drugged you and attempted an abduction. Dhreen heard you scream, and fought off your assailant, but the Terran escaped.”

  “I got him, too.” I remembered, and smiled grimly. “He’ll be limping for a while.” I just managed to run the scanner over myself before my arm went slack. “Suns, what did he inject me with?”

  Reever removed the scanner from my limp hand and checked it. “Readings are negative for injury. I just ran a blood scan. He used something identified as Coraresine.”

  “Neuroparalyzer. Damn it.” I pushed at the covers over me and tried to sit up. Reever pressed me back to the sling cradle and held me there. I was too sluggish to fight him. “Going back to K-2?” He nodded as my eyelids started to fall. “Don’t tell them . . . about me . . . Duncan . . .”

  It took the rest of my allotted “furlough” for my body to rid itself of the powerful drug. The next face I saw was Ecla’s. She was pointing an optic light in my eyes. I squinted and swatted at the painfully bright beam. Her ruffles danced with relief.

  “Turn that off,” I said. “Are you trying to blind me?”

  She straightened and made a gesture of something less polite. “Well, you’re obviously feeling better.”

  My stomach rolled while my head buzzed. “Better has nothing to do with it, Flower Face.”

  “I meant the counteragent is working. You had a system full of chill juice.”

  “So I heard. How long have I been out?”

  “Your shuttle landed last night. It is now mid-shift, next rotation.”

  I sat up without too much difficulty. My head even began to clear. “Where are Reever and Dhreen?”

  “Both are still over at Security, being interviewed. Which is where you are scheduled to go, as soon as you can get back on your feet. Maybe tomorrow?”

  “Get me some clothes.” I got to my feet and was pleased to see I didn’t sway or shake at all. Well, maybe a little at the mid-leg point, but Ecla couldn’t see that.

  “Why do doctors make the worst patients?” the Psyoran mused aloud as she brought my tunic and trousers to me. I dressed as rapidly as I dared. My stomach was still rolling, threatening to make everything even more unpleasant.

  I gave her a surly look. “Because we can get away with it.”

  It took a few minutes to convince the charge nurse to release me without notice to Dr. Mayer or Administrator Hansen. After that, I left the facility to find my glidecar, which had been moved from my usual slot to a space behind the side entrance. I sat in the driver’s seat and activated the ignition sequence. The control panel’s small vid screen snapped on, and Joseph Grey Veil’s face appeared.

  “Well, well, look who’s in my car.” I glanced at the panel. “Direct relay, no less. Keep this up, and you’ll have to pawn the pottery collection.”

  “Cherijo. The incident on Caszaria’s Moon was made known to me. I was concerned—”

  “—that your plan to get me back didn’t work?” I finished for him.

  “I assure you—”

  “Save it, Doctor.” I pointed the glidecar’s nose toward Security and began to drive. “I disabled the idiot you hired.”

  “Will you allow me to finish one sentence?” my father asked.

  I glanced at the screen. “Feel free.”

  “When a scientist cannot maintain control over an experiment, the entire procedure has to be repeated. Original findings must be discarded.”

  Unbelievable. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Merely offering a warning.”

  “I see.” I put a mental clamp on my temper. “Let me get this straight: Since the drugs and the abduction didn’t work, if I don’t come back, you’re going to have me murdered? Then you’ll do this all over again to another unsuspecting kid?”

  “You have always had a firm gras
p of subtlety,” my father said.

  I pulled up to the Security building, then gave him my complete attention. “All right, Doctor. You’ll want to grasp this now. If there is even the slightest attempt to ‘wipe clean’ your ‘original findings,’ I will arrange to have a complete report on your activities filed with the League.”

  “You cannot—”

  “I’ll throw in the genetic material from your lab as evidence. Understand?”

  “They will find you and take you into custody. It will result in your execution.”

  “Fine.” As if I’d ever let him or the League get their hands on me. “The way I feel this morning, it would be a nice change.”

  “I cannot allow you to do that.”

  “I know. I’m counting on it.” I stared at the screen. “Good-bye, Dr. Grey Veil. Don’t contact me again.”

  “I will get you back—”

  “Not if I can help it.” My clamped temper gave way, and I saw my fist smash the screen into webbed ruins. Everyone had their limits. He’d just exceeded mine. I patiently wrapped my bleeding hand with a strip of fabric I tore from my tunic’s edge, then climbed out of the glidecar.

  This was only the second time I’d ever been inside Main Security. From here the colony’s defense grid, support operations and transport were all closely monitored. Sort of like intensive care, with no patients. I was surprised to see a few friendly nods after I checked in with the reception drone. A pleasant change from the naked hostility I’d gotten last time I was there

  Today’s antagonism came in the form of the commander of Colonial Security, Norash. I hadn’t met him the last time. He looked down and glared at me when I was escorted into the heart of the command center. No wonder all the corridors around here were so wide, I thought.

  “So you’re the one,” he said after we were introduced by an assistant. He seemed bemused by my appearance.

  “Commander.” The fact he was Trytinorn surprised me.

  It must have showed, for he grunted. “We’re not all weight haulers, Colonist Grey Veil.” He finished instructing a subordinate regarding some console glitch and indicated I should follow him. “This way.”

  We went to his office, a modest little place about the same size as the entire Trauma unit.

  “Very roomy,” I said. Well, I had to say something. I hoisted myself up into a Trytinorn-sized chair in front of his desk. My feet dangled a good meter above the floor. How was I going to climb back out of this thing? I gave the commander a sweet smile. He’d just have to help.

  Norash’s small, sharp eyes were fixed on my self-inflicted injury. “What happened to your hand?”

  My smile widened. “A display annoyed me.”

  “Try the termination switch next time.” With surprising dexterity, he punched up a data file on one of his terminals.

  “How are Norgal’s ribs?”

  He gave me a suspicious glare. “How did you know we were acquainted?”

  “I’d say you were related, from your dermal pigmentation.”

  Another grunt. “My cousin, as it happens. He’s recovered.”

  “Good. Meeting him was quite an experience.”

  “Indeed. Colonist, your—experiences—are notorious topics here at Central,” he said, and turned the display for me to view. There were several data files listed. “Assisting Hsktskt terrorists. Brought before the Council on four counts of Charter violations. Now this attempted abduction.”

  “I’ve been a busy girl.”

  He tapped the touchpad, and the screen blanked out. “Tell me, Colonist, do you see a pattern here?”

  “A pattern?”

  The gigantic frame seemed to fill up the room as the commander got to his feet and ambled back and forth.

  “New transfers commonly violate the Charter, Security anticipates that.” I got another stern glare as he came to a halt before me. Cherijo, you bad girl. “Then there is you.”

  There was that pesky problem of limits again. My smile faded. “There’s a point here we’re going to arrive at soon, I hope.”

  “Reckless behavior is a continual lure to such—”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you saying that I asked for it?” At his nod an incredulous laugh left my lips. “Commander, I didn’t invite the Hsktskts to use the FreeClinic as a maternity ward. Phorap Rogan is an incompetent idiot who filed some trumped-up nonsense. As for the abduction attempt, all I’m guilty of is being on vacation!”

  “You can’t deny you attract trouble, Doctor.”

  “Oh, yeah? Watch my lips.”

  “I will not tolerate your antics when they jeopardize Colonial Security!” he said in impressive decibels.

  “Petition the Council,” I said. “Be prepared to stand in line.”

  The commander eyed me with cantankerous dislike before reclaiming his seat. “You’d better hope your luck improves, Doctor. Soon,” he told me before he activated a recording drone. “Conducting routine interview with Colonist Grey Veil, Cherijo.”

  I gave my account of what had happened, leaving out only Reever’s link with me, and my later revelations. When the record was complete, I was dismissed. I managed to jump down without Norash’s help. On my way out, the Trytinorn muttered something about not hearing my name mentioned for at least a revolution.

  Ana Hansen was waiting for me in the reception area. Reever and Dhreen were nowhere to be seen, but I thought I caught a glimpse of Dr. Mayer walking out the main entrance.

  “Trying to avoid me?” the blond administrator asked, smiling.

  “Trying to forgive you.” She chuckled, then stopped and frowned when she saw the bloody strip binding my hand. “Don’t ask. That was some vacation you sent me on. Remind me to hijack the shuttle back to K-2 next time.”

  “I don’t dare send you to one of the more populated League worlds,” Ana said. “Norash believes you may set off an intersystem conflict.”

  “It would be a lot easier if Norash had been there . . . to . . .” I trailed off as something occurred to me. Ana walked me back to my glidecar, noticed the damage to the display unit but said nothing.

  “When am I scheduled for my next shift? Swings,” I answered myself. I looked blankly at Ana, then shook myself out of my trance. “Sorry. I need to check on something. I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow.”

  “Joey”—she made a helpless gesture—“let me know if I can help. I’m sorry about all this. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Not according to Norash,” I said as I climbed in my glidecar. In minutes I was back at the Botanical Project area and making my way to the original site of Alun Karas’s accident.

  The gnorra trees were in full bloom, but I noted a slight brownish tinge to the leaves that had not been present before. Some seasonal transition, I guessed, and then walked around the entire area. Phew, I thought, and sneezed. The acrid smell from the resin spill was still strong. My nostrils flared, and I sneezed again. I took more samples. The smelly sap had darkened considerably, and the carpet of leaves was badly decayed.

  What exactly had happened to Karas here?

  I was taking root and bark samples, he’d told me. A resin tapper had clogged, and when he tried to clear it, the reservoir blew . . . Then I tripped and fell into a pile of gnorra leaves.

  I tried to reenact his movements before the accident. I pretended to take samples from the trees. Walked from the outer fringe back to the damaged equipment. Touched the tapper’s intake, examined the tools still lying beside the equipment. Measured the distance to the shattered reservoir. Threw up my arms, imagined the shower of sticky resin. Dropped down, probed the soil. Noted the number of gnarled roots where he could have tripped. Inspected the thick brown layer of leaves beneath me.

  What could have infected him? The collection equipment, the resin, leaves, and K-2 dirt. That was all he’d come in contact with. There were no other botanical specimens in proximity—the gnorra trees appeared to be very territorial—and no other substances within reach he could have
fallen on or breathed in.

  Which told me absolutely nothing.

  I was almost glad to see the signal from the FreeClinic when I returned to my glidecar. Audio only, due to my temper tantrum. It was one of the techs from Lab Services.

  “Pathologist Crhm would like to speak with you when you report for shift, Doctor,” I was told, and remembered I’d requested some tissue samples from Karas’s lungs. I decided to report early and see what the medical examiner had come up with.

  Pathology occupied a small section of its own, and was not kept busy as a general rule. Karas’s death was the first in more than half a revolution.

  Crhm was a hermaphroditic, crustacean-like being with eyestalks. The first time we’d met, I had thought of the Terran lobsters Joseph Grey Veil had regularly flown in for his personal consumption. I was glad I’d never developed a taste for them.

  The pathologist saw me and hurried out of its office, exuding an air of excitement as it ushered me in.

  “Come, come,” its voice buzzed through my TI. “You must see this, Dr. Grey Veil.”

  I was taken back into the storage area, where remains were kept until final disposition. Apparently Karas had requested to be transported to Chakara in the event of his death. Cargo space to that system was limited, so his remains had not yet been shipped home.

  Dr. Crhm and I scrubbed, masked, and gloved before the examination. At the wall of storage containers, the pathologist keyed the compartment reserved for organs removed during autopsy. Internal envirocontrols preserved the tissue perfectly. Crhm extracted the container that held Chakaran’s lungs and took it to the exam table.

  “I was following up on your request for tissue samples from the lungs when I found the abnormality,” Crhm told me as it removed the organs and placed them on a biopsy pad.

  The lungs should have been a pale lilac in color, the normal condition for Chakarans. Karas’s were necrotized to a dark purple and badly distorted by loss of volume and cellular cohesion.

  Dr. Crhm used a light probe to indicate the posterior segments. “Here—do you see this substance?”

  I pulled down the overhead magnifier and through it saw a yellowish substance coating the exterior of both lower lobes. My voice was slightly muffled by the mask I wore. “What is that?”