by neetha Napew
It was. “I need a table or something to set it down on.”
Hawk cleared off a tool bench and Duncan placed it on top. I punched the panel and watched as the medical unit sluggishly activated.
“Hawk, I’ll need you to translate.”
“I regret I can only speak my father’s language,” he said. “Duncan?”
“I can read it. Go ahead, Cherijo.”
Thankfully, the hardware was League-compatible, so it had no problem adapting to my scanner. I plugged the leads in, downloaded Hyt’s readings, and waited. At last, something started to scroll on the cracked display screen.
“They identified an outbreak of juvenile infectious arthritis some fifty years ago. Commonly referred to as Sadda’s scourge, according to the notations.” Reever was silent as he read further. “Symptoms develop into adult infectious arthritis, with a side effect of severe bone distortion.”
“That’s ludicrous.” I checked the leads. “We cured arthritis three hundred years ago, and it doesn’t cause bone distortion anyway. What else does it say?”
“Give me a moment.” Reever took off his wristcom, did something to it and the panel, and at once the Taercal readings converted to stanTerran. “Check the last readings from their medical exchange database.”
I did. According to what I read, the Taercal had stopped downloading medical information from their Quadrant Surgeon General’s Office almost two hundred years ago. Given that length of isolation, and their disdain for technology, the people would have quickly forgotten whatever they once knew about effective treatment.
But why would their physicians allow them to do that?
I punched up everything in the database on the condition. The notes on the initial outbreak were so brief it was criminal. “The doctors who diagnosed this did nothing about it. They had the cure, but they never administered it. They just let kids like Hyt suffer for no reason.”
“We don’t have much time,” Hawk said. “We must discover why my father’s people have isolated themselves and reverted to such primitive living conditions.”
“That won’t be on here.” I downloaded the standard readings for Taercal physiology before I shut off the unit. “Whoever these idiot physicians were, they only recorded medical data on this unit.”
Reever looked around. “They may have preserved something on their public access terminals.”
We found one in another pile of junked components, but it was in terrible shape. Only a partial screen appeared when Reever finally got it working, but it was enough to show a vid of the Taercal as they stripped all the tech and hardware from their homes. These were much healthier-looking specimens, dressed in fitted garments that allowed their wings to show.
“Can you enable the audio?” I asked as I watched some of them open their mouths and shout at each other.
Reever tapped the console, and a static-filled recording crackled in the air. The Taercal sounded furious, screaming in high-pitched voices at each other.
“They say it is the end of indulgence,” Hawk said, frowning as he concentrated on the crackling audio. “They beg the ten thousand gods to be merciful. More of the same from the others-prayer, pleas for leniency.”
“Look at the women.” I tapped the screen, where the image of a line of females carrying wrapped bundles appeared. They were sobbing and hysterical, and one of them dropped to her knees, clutching her bundle to her breast. The cloth covering it fell away from a small face contorted with agony.
“It infected their children first,” my husband said.
Hawk looked sick. “Can you help them, Cherijo?”
“They could have helped themselves a long time ago-their doctors knew what to do. This condition can be cured with a couple of infusions and nutritional supplements. It’s all on the medical console.” It didn’t make sense. “Why would they withhold treatment and let them descend into mass hysteria like this?”
Reever nodded to the screen. “They were otherwise occupied.”
Another vid was running. This one showed a mob of outraged Taercal throwing stones at a smaller group of cowering males and females-all of whom wore white-and-blue physician’s tunics.
I sat back as I watched them die. “Oh my God.”
Reever showed us replays of other atrocities. Beatings. Arson. Stabbings. More stonings. In the end it was very clear why the doctors had been unable to finish recording or treat the population.
The Taercal had reacted to their “scourge” by systematically executing every physician on the planet.
CHAPTER TEN
Sadda’s Price
We left the techno dump site united in the decision that we needed to get off this world as quickly as possible.
“They must not discover Cherijo is a physician,” Hawk said, scanning the dwellings around us. “They will kill her.”
“I don’t know why they haven’t tried already. It’s not like I’ve tried to hide it.” I touched the stylized caduceus on the shoulder of my tunic. “Xonea, you introduced me as a healer, and they’ve seen me use my equipment.”
“It has been many decades since the population murdered their own physicians.” Xonea removed a dagger from a sheath under his flightsuit and palmed it. “They may not recognize your insignia or even understand what a healer is.”
I thought of the graphic vids we’d seen. “Let’s hope.”
We entered the streets and headed for the city walls where we had entered through Sadda’s Maw. Reever took point, having gone into his silent, alert mode. Hawk and Xonea flanked me. We walked in a brisk, but unhurried way, past monitors and citizens, ignoring the stares and whispers.
“I don’t like this.” As the carpet of worms squished under my footgear, something occurred to me. “Xonea, how long before the second sojourn team lands?”
The Captain swore and checked his wristcom. “They have left the ship by now.”
“Signal them to go back,” Reever said.
My ClanBrother tried, but dropped his arm and glanced around us. “Something is jamming transmission. We are also being followed.”
I turned to see a number of people and monitors trailing us at a discreet distance. “We’d better make a run for the launch.”
We ran. Since my legs were shorter than everyone else’s, I soon lagged behind. Xonea stopped long enough to grab me and pick me up.
“Your pardon,” he said as he propped me on one strong arm. “It will be easier this way.”
Reever didn’t look happy about that when he glanced back, but said nothing and continued to lead us on a zigzag path through the streets. Over my Clan-Brother’s shoulder, I saw a huge group of Taercal limping in pursuit. Given their physical condition, they’d never catch us, but I wouldn’t feel safe until we got off this worm-ridden rock.
Just before we reached Sadda’s Maw, Ortsac and his group of officials stepped out to block our exit. “Halt! You will submit yourselves to instruction and discipline!”
“Another day, perhaps.” Reever whirled into one of his inhuman, rolling moves and knocked the fat Taercal out of our way. The stone door remained closed, but he took out a pulse weapon, adjusted the beam, and fired. A big hole appeared in the stone, and he ducked out through it.
I didn’t think, I linked. Reever?
I can see the second launch landing. We must hurry.
I told Xonea, who carried me through the doors. On the other side, he flinched, then stumbled forward as something hit him from behind. I heard a stone thump on the ground, and ducked to avoid another.
They were throwing rocks at us.
“Run faster!” I shouted to Hawk.
We made it to the landing site with the Taercals lagging behind, still in pursuit. The second sojourn team was already disembarking, and as they saw us, Dhreen and Salo drew their weapons.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. “What the hell is Dhreen doing out of Medical?”
“What is it?” Salo shouted.
“Get back on the ship and get out of
here!” Reever yelled.
Xonea would have flung me into our launch, but the hull doors didn’t open. I spotted the damaged access panel beside them and realized the Taercal had taken out some insurance ahead of time. I twisted out of his arms and staggered to my feet. “Can the other launch fit all of us?”
The Captain’s muscles bunched as he watched the mob rushing toward us. “No time.”
Reever pushed him toward the second shuttle. “Take her-Hawk and I will hold them off.”
Arguing with that was useless, but before I could get to the second launch, a hailstorm of stones flew at us. The rocks bounced off the launch and, as they started smacking into me, I instinctively threw up my arms to cover my face.
“Polluters!” I heard Ortsac shriek. “Blasphemers!”
Hard hands grabbed me, too many to fight. I got to watch the same happen to Xonea and Hawk, while Reever barely kept his attackers at bay. Dhreen and Salo were already being held, and the mob quickly disabled the second launch.
Monitors stripped everyone of their weapons, and there was an almost gleeful shout as two dozen Taercal finally took my husband down and held him pinned to the ground.
“They belong to Sadda now!” Tadam Ortsac shouted. “They... belong-“ He stopped as a sudden hush fell over the crowd.
I looked over at the second shuttle, where Alunthri came out from behind the docking ramp where it had evidently been hiding. The mob stoning the launch staggered back so fast they tripped over one another.
“Oh, Jesus,” I whispered, then yelled, “Alunthri, run!”
The Chakacat didn’t seem to hear me, because it took a step forward. Its silvery head canted to one side as it regarded the mob. “Why are you doing this?”
The Taercals seemed riveted in place, as if frozen by those five simple words.
At last, Tadam Ortsac shuffled forward, his head bowed, his entire body quivering-but not with anger. A few yards from the docking ramp, he sank to his knees. He stretched out his arms and lifted his pudgy face to the sky.
“The ten thousand gods bestow their blessings at last! All praise we lift to Sadda!”
The mob respectfully murmured a repeat of the same.
Condensate ran down the official’s puffy face like tears of joy as he prostrated himself, facedown in the wormy dirt. “We have long awaited this day, waited with patience and prayer,” he said, his voice a little muffled by his position. “Now it is upon us, and we are grateful to you, oh, Sadda.”
“Reever.” I yanked at the hands holding my arms. “Talk to me. What’s he going to do?”
“Not what you expect.”
Tadam rose to his feet and shuffled around to face the mob. “Behold the profit of prayer!” He pointed back at Alunthri. “For Sadda himself is returned to us!”
It got even weirder from there.
The entire mob reassembled into straight, long rows, then dropped to prostrate themselves on the ground. Faces pressed to the worms, just like Ortsac’s. A low monotone hum began and grew as each Taercal added his voice to it, until the wordless chant seemed to press in on my ears.
The only exception to this mass-prayer thing were the Taercal holding on to each of us. They watched with unblinking, reverent awe as Ortsac approached the mob.
“Sadda’s scourge is everlasting!” he yelled, pacing back and forth in front of the lines, like a secular cheerleader working a game crowd. “Sadda has tested the people and found them not wanting! Praise be to Sadda for the gift of will and endurance.”
Endurance, ha. Let them spend a year on a Hsktskt slave depot and then come talk to me about endurance.
The worship ceremony went on and on, until I was ready to scream. To keep from making a spectacle of myself, I tried to figure out what had triggered the Taercals’ extreme response.
Evidently “Sadda” was a feline deity, doubtless responsible for the claws we’d seen decorating everything. Alunthri must have borne a close resemblance to she/he/it. A good thing, too, because I suspected without the appearance of the Chakacat, we would have all been tied up with stones and drowned in shallow grave-ditches.
Finally, the crowd rose slowly to their feet, and Ortsac lead the troops back toward the city entrance.
“Which one of the ten thousand gods is Sadda, exactly?” I asked the Taercal who were hauling me back through the wall entrance to the city.
“Silence, blasphemer.” A monitor struck me with a stick. “Your lips are not clean enough to form the great one’s name.”
I thought about mentioning the fact that I had actually owned the great one for a brief period of time, but bit my tongue. If I blew Alunthri’s cover, we might all be killed.
Ahead of us, the Taercal were ushering my friend with the kind of reverent deference one gave to a world monarch. I could just imagine what the Chakacat was thinking-as long as it went along with the religious fanatics, it could keep us alive.
At least, I hoped it was thinking that.
A dozen natives dragged Reever past me. He was still struggling and blood ran down the side of his face, and his eyes had gone that scary, colorless gray shade they got when he was really upset.
Duncan. What are we going to do? If they find out Alunthri isn’t a god, they’ll drown all of us.
Alunthri will shield us, long enough for us to come up with a plan. Have you seen Hawk?
I tried to look around, and got another whack from the stick. “Look, you,” I said, feeling very testy, “if you don’t stop hitting me, I’m going to shove that stick in a very uncomfortable anatomical location.” I spotted Hawk a few yards away. Like Duncan, he was struggling wildly to free himself, and bore a number of facial contusions. “Hawk! Stop-“
Someone clubbed me over the head, and the world became a little dim for a few minutes. They kept dragging my limp body along, while I tried to muster my senses back to some semblance of order.
Cherijo!
Duncan’s frantic thoughts were what pulled me back from the abyss. I’m okay. Just give me a minute.
Baby, we need a little more than sixty seconds, a familiar voice said.
Who is that? my husband demanded.
Hello, Reever. We haven’t met yet. Maggie’s voice sounded amused. I’m the little snot’s mother. In a stand-in kind of way. .
You’re not my mother. Coldness seeped into my limbs. Duncan, end the link. I don’t want her infecting your mind, too.
The world went away, and I was swept into darkness. This time, I wasn’t alone, and felt Duncan latch on to me with his inexorable control.
I fought him. Duncan, I mean it. Let go of me. You can’t stop her.
Then I’m going with you.
We ended up falling together, tangled in each other’s thoughts, into the abyss that always led to Maggie. Where we ended up was a total shock.
“How did we get here?” Duncan asked me as he helped me to my feet. Although we were still inside my mind, everything appeared as genuine reality around us.
The reality of my hotel room on Caszaria’s Moon.
“Maggie likes to play her little games.” I straightened my tunic and looked around. “Don’t worry, it never lasts long, thank Whoever Is in Charge Up There.”
A tall, red-haired woman stepped in through the door panel. She wore a waitress’s uniform that was a little too tight around the chest and hips, and pushed a cart laden with champagne and trays of little cakes and desserts. Her smile was as sexy as the wiggle of her hips.
“Room service.” She stopped the cart, straightened, and tucked a napkin over her arm. At the same time, she waggled her eyebrows at my husband. “Whoo-hoo. Hellooooo, handsome.”
Duncan regarded her the same way he did Terran food. “This is your maternal influencer?”
“Paid companion, replacement mother, partner in crime,” Maggie said in her sweetest voice.
“Personal demon from hell,” I added for good measure.
“That, too.” She removed a silver cover from one of the dishes with a flour
ish. “Let’s see here, we’ve got Dom Perignon, chocolate eclairs, imported cheeses, oh, and those vanilla cherry whatever-they-ares you gorged on back on that jungle world where you two met.” She held up a delicate china plate and looked at both of us expectantly. “Anyone hungry?”
I’d been through similar synaptic scenes in the past too often to let her rile me. “What do you want, Maggie?”
“Lots of stuff.” She left the cart in the center of the room and went to open the drapes. “Nice place, for a dome world. I like the posh, but I wouldn’t want to stroll through those bubble things down there.”
“How are you doing this?” Reever demanded.
My childhood companion ogled my husband again as she turned. “Dunkie, you really should have done more than just kiss her when you guys were here. Consider the waste of the bed, at least.”
“Dunkie?” My husband sounded mortally offended. “I beg your pardon.”
“Never beg, gorgeous.” As she walked past him, Maggie reached out and slapped his backside. “With a bod like yours, you should only have to fight them off.”
When Reever took a step to go after her, I caught his eye and shook my head.
Maggie wasn’t finished, and gestured toward me. “Take Dr. Uptight here. She’s not a pushover, my Joey, but with a little effort you could have convinced her to cheat on her boyfriend, way back when.”
“If that’s what you think,” my husband said, “then you don’t know Cherijo very well.”
“Oh, well, I suppose you’re right. Call it wishful thinking.”
“Maggie.”
She turned her attention to me. “And you. You’re supposed to be on your way to Jxinok, little girl.” Maggie took the champagne bottle from the ornate silver ice bucket and popped the cork. “We need to discuss that. Here, have a drink.”
“Let’s not and say we did. We have to go back.”
“Ah-ah-ah.” She wagged a finger at me as she handed me a flute of champagne. “Remember, ten seconds in your reality equals ten hours here. You won’t be gone longer than the blink of an eyelash.”
When she handed Duncan his glass, he knocked it away. The crystal smashed all over the deck. “End this and release us.”