by neetha Napew
Casually, I went over to the console, standing in front of it as I keyed in an emergency signal to Medical, leaving the channel open so Squilyp could hear what was going on.
“What are you doing now?”
“I have an idea.” I quickly couched everything into terms he would respond to positively, and carefully drew out my syrinpress. “There’s a place I know where the yei can’t see or hear or come after you. I want you to go there with me, right now. You’ll be completely safe, I promise.”
He lurched to his feet, and snapped out his wings. Handfuls of feathers were missing from them, too. “You are trying to deceive me.”
“I never lie about being safe.” I held my ground. Without sedation, I had no means to control him. If I couldn’t get the drugs in him, I’d have to leave and secure the door panel. “This place is a sanctuary for others like you-“
“There is no one like me!” he screamed.
Time to get out and lock him in. I whirled, only to see a small figure standing a few feet from the dosed door panel. “Marel? How-?”
“Hawk?” She toddled over until she stood between us.
“Back, child!” The hataali jumped on me, knocking me to the deck. I grunted as all the air left my lungs, and my syrinpress skidded away across the deck. He straddled me, and tried to wrap his hands around my neck. I fought back. “You will not devour her, I will not let you!”
As I wrestled with him, I twisted my face toward my daughter. The medevac team would arrive any moment, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “Marel, sweetie- I want you to- go see Fasala. Hurry and go- right now- for me.”
She did the exact opposite, and walked toward the madman sitting on top of me, “Hawk? Doan hurd my mama.”
Hawk seemed determined to choke me. I kept my arms up, blocking his hands, but he had the strength of psychotic desperation backing him. “Go, child. I will keep the yei from harming you.”
“Mama not monsder.” A little hand gently patted Hawk’s tattered wing, distracting him as she slipped the syrinpress into my hand. “Mama heawer. Wike you.”
He hesitated, struggling to focus on the little girl. “What?”
“You sing heaw peepoh. Mama hands heaw peepoh.” Marel made it all sound very logical. “Mama heaw you.”
“She will make the yei leave me alone?” he asked, still suspicious.
“Sure.” Marel’s smile widened. “Everybody afraid of Mama.”
“You lie!” Hawk rolled off me.
Somehow, Qonja appeared, and threw himself in Hawk’s path just before he got his hands on my daughter. The two men went down, and began slugging each other.
“Healer!” the resident shouted, struggling to hold his own against the hataali’s fury. “Now!”
I hurried over and administered a fast-acting sedative, then closed my eyes as Hawk slumped back, unconscious. Marel was already in my arms before I straightened.
I held her tightly and looked down at Qonja’s bleeding face before extending a hand to help him up. “Thank you.”
We moved Hawk to Medical, got him cleaned up, and ran a full series scan, but I had to sedate him again. Qonja treated his own cuts and bruises before disappearing into the Senior Healer’s office. A few minutes later, the Senior Healer emerged and announced a staff meeting to determine diagnosis and treatment.
It wasn’t the way I would have handled it, but Squilyp was in charge, not me. What bothered me was wondering what Qonja had said to him.
As we gathered in the conference room and waited for the rest of the senior staff to arrive, Adaola asked me to fill them in. “And if you would, please describe the patient’s condition and behavior as you witnessed it.”
I covered what had happened in Hawk’s quarters, adding, “I tried talking him down, but he showed very limited response and ignored almost all my verbal cues. I’m not sure he even heard everything I said.”
“What is the current status on the patient?” the Omorr asked as he closed the conference room panel, and came to the table.
“We’ve ruled out brain tumor, temporal lobe epilepsy, autoimmune responses, Huntington’s, liver malfunction, and allergic or substance reactions.” I handed copies of Hawk’s chart to the residents and interns, feeling a bit like a secretary. When I reached my boss, I leaned over. “Where is Qonja? Shouldn’t he be in on this?”
“He had to speak to the Captain.” Squilyp cleared his throat, then addressed the group. “So we have no viable reason for this patient’s delusional state.” He gave me a brief glower, then switched on his chart. “Questions, thoughts?”
Adaola took the first shot. “His history indicates he is biologically vulnerable for acute functional psychosis. His condition could be the end result of years of severe mental and physical abuse, exposure to perpetual conflict, and poor adjustment to social conditions, and personal loss.”
“I’d be inclined to agree.” I sat down and took a sip from my server of water. “However, I know this patient pretty well, and prior to this episode, he has displayed no functional maladjustments whatsoever. We’re talking about a normal twenty-four-year-old male suddenly developing crippling mental illness. It just doesn’t happen overnight-we would have seen behavioral changes and other warning signs for months.”
Vlaav was next. “Cellular degeneration within the frontal cortex lobes is not apparent, but from the patient’s lethargic reaction to rysperidyne therapy, I’d say he’s suffering organic psychosis resulting from increased stimulation of neurotransmitter receptors. Perhaps a form of Pick’s Disease.”
Squilyp shook his head. “Something triggered the endocrine response, and there are no signs of prior neurological disease.”
“We can’t continue receptor-blocker therapy without risking extrapyramidal side effects, like suppression of bone marrow production and seizures,” I pointed out.
“We cannot continue sedating him,” lolna added. “Already he requires five times the standard Terran dosage of valumine. Repeated infusions will only build up toxic levels in the bloodstream and possibly cause permanent systemic damage.”
“That leaves only one option-sleep suspension, until we can tag the source and develop a viable regimen.” I wasn’t happy about putting my friend in a deliberate coma, but we had no other choice.
“That will make him unavailable for further psychiatric testing,” Vlaav said.
“In his present state, he could hardly provide cognizant test responses.” The Omorr made a notation on the chart. “Very well, we shall put the hataali in sleep suspension. Adaola, you and Vlaav work on the organic sources. Test for every known neurological and endocrine disorder. Iolna, I want you on strict monitor. Advise the team of any changes in his condition, however minor.” He glanced at me. “Cherijo and I will cover the other possibilities.”
“It’s not functional,” I said. “It has to be pathogenic.”
The Senior Healer nodded. “If it is, we’ll find it. That’s all for today. Thank you and please keep me updated on your progress.”
I waited until the rest of the staff cleared the room before closing the door panel and leaning against it. “Okay, Squid Lips, tell me what’s going on here. We have our first psychiatric case, and Boy Shrink disappears?”
He got busy stacking charts. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re a surgeon, not a group practitioner. What’s the deal? What did he say to you in your office?”
His gildrells drooped. “I have orders from the Captain.”
Xonea getting involved with Medical-never a good mix. “Orders, I take it, I’m not supposed to know about.”
“He mentioned throwing me in the brig a few times when he was issuing them.”
“So live dangerously and tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I need everyone working on this, not just me and you. We have to find out what caused Hawk’s episode, and quickly.”
“Why?”
The door panel slid open, and someone even madder than me hop
ped in the room.
“You liar.” Garphawayn threw a handful of photoscans at the Senior Healer. “I demand we resolve this disgusting matter at once!”
Squilyp bent down and picked up the images, which were of a beautiful, smiling Jorenian female. Inwardly, I groaned.
It seemed Garphawayn had just found out about the other woman in her fiancé’s heart.
“I will not accept your solicitation,” the Senior Healer said as he finished picking up the photoscans and handed them to me. “We are contracting marriage, not seeking to kill each other.”
“You are contracting marriage under false pretenses. It is too revolting to even think about.” The female Omorr’s gildrell rings clinked together. “I demand satisfaction for your blatant insult to the Cestes name.”
My boss seemed to snap. “You have insulted it yourself by searching my quarters, you harridan!”
“That’s enough.” I decided it was time I stepped in, before membranes started swinging. “Both of you, shut up for a minute.”
Malicious dark eyes shifted to me. “Stay out of this, Terran, or I will solicit you next.”
“Since I’ve already kicked your fiancé’s backside once in a solicitation, I wouldn’t recommend it.” I pulled out a chair and pointed to the seat. “Park yourself for a minute. You, too, Squilyp.” When they didn’t move, I raised my voice. “Now, or I call security and tell them to bring weapons!”
The Omorr chose opposite ends of the table and refused to look at each other.
“Good. Now we’re going to straighten this out. Squilyp, tell Garphawayn who the female in the photoscans is.”
“Lalona Torin, one of my patients. She was badly burned in a fire on the ship. I performed the reconstructive surgery that restored her facial features and proper respiratory functions.”
“Ha! She has no scars on her face!”
He planted two membranes on the table and leaned forward. “I am an excellent surgeon.”
“If what you say is true, then why do you keep only her images? Where are those of your other patients?” The female Omorr tossed her feathered head. “Produce them, and I will retract my accusations. I am willing to be understanding. This once.”
“Oh, someone needs to record this moment and preserve it for posterity.” I sighed. “Garphawayn, you can’t go through marriage asking for proof every time your spouse tells you something. Marriage is about faith and trust in each other.”
She gave me a shut-up look. “Very well. Adoren, tell me you have no feelings for this blue female in the images, and I will withdraw my solicitation.”
“I loved her,” Mr. Honesty felt compelled to say.
“You see?” She gave me a triumphant glare. “His heart is not open. He is not suitable for marriage. And yet he deceived me, brought me to this wretched vessel, compelled me to waste my time negotiating a contract which could never be fulfilled-“
“Right. Okay. Shut up.” My boss was maintaining a mutinous silence, so I decided to explain the muddle. “In the first place, Lalona Torin and Squilyp could never be together. Jorenians and Omorr are not physically compatible. He knew this, which is why he never pursued her.”
“That makes little difference.” She thumped the table. “His heart was to be mine by contract!”
“Lady, if you think a signed document is going to make this guy love you, you’re existing in another dimension.” That wasn’t enough, I saw from her expression. I’d have to get creative. “Besides, Lalona Torin died as a result of her injuries. You’re jealous of a ghost, nothing more.” When Squilyp made as if to protest, I silently stomped on his foot under the table, and he subsided.
Garphawayn looked a little thunderstruck. “She’s dead?”
“That’s what I told you,” I said. “Now, I think you’d better withdraw your solicitation and go spend an interval under a cold cleanser port. What do you say?”
“I withdraw my solicitation.” She rose on her leg, looking even more regal than ever. “As for the marriage contract, I will have to consider this new codicil. Perhaps, Squilyp, you should ask yourself if you truly desire a wife, or merely a substitution for a deceased love.” Out she stomped.
As soon as she was gone, Squilyp exploded. “Why did you lie to her? Lalona is not dead; she’s on Joren!”
“Uh-huh. And when do you think your future bride is ever going to visit that particular planet?”
He sat back down. “Likely never.”
“I rest my case.”
My boss still looked miserable as he sorted through the photoscans. “She’s right, you know. I’m still infatuated with a female I can never have.”
“I didn’t think too much of this one, until she came in here demanding to beat the hell out of you.” I smiled. “Squilyp, Garphawayn has been acting like a refrigeration unit since she got on board. Now, suddenly, she’s insanely jealous. In my mind, there’s only one reason for that.”
“Hormones,” he said in a morose tone.
“No, you idiot.” I patted his cheek. “She’s in love with you.”
The Omorr’s behavior lingered in my mind as I went to check on Hawk and see how well the sleep suspension was working. Savetka reviewed his vitals with me, then pointed out some minor fluctuations in brain activity during the transition phase.
“It was much the same when we began administering the additional sedation. I have little hope that he will be able to remain in suspension for an extended period of time.”
“He’s as ticked off as Squilyp’s girlfriend is,” I joked, then nearly dropped the chart. “That’s it.”
The nurse looked mystified. “Your pardon, Healer?”
“Pull up all the hematological results for the patient, and sort out the hormone and protein levels.” I pulled back the suspension shroud, and felt under Hawk’s neck. There was a distinct bulge indicating an abnormality in the thyroid gland, and I scanned it before replacing the shroud. “No growth, but definitely enlarged.”
Meanwhile, the nurse had collated the data I needed and handed me the chart. “He has a number of hormones out of balance, including several that the database cannot identify.”
“He’s only half-Terran, so it would make sense that he has some Taercal glands.” I’d already downloaded what few readings I’d taken from the native population, and went over to a console to pull them up. Hyt only had a couple of matching secretions in his blood, but the dead adult male I’d scanned had all of them. “Bingo.”
Savetka studied the screen. “Without a comprehensive database, we cannot determine which glands are affected.”
“I’m way ahead of you.” I signaled Communications. “This is Healer Cherijo. I need to relay a signal back to Taerca.” When the Communications officer looked at me as though I’d lost my mind, I glowered. “It’s a medical emergency; put me through.”
“Yes, Healer.”
The response was immediate, and the officer patched it through to my terminal. I didn’t know the face of the official who answered, but I certainly recognized the hostility.
“What do you want, polluter?”
“I have one of your people on my ship, and he’s dying,” I said, deciding blunt was best. “I need you to upload your standard medical database to me.”
“We do not blaspheme Sadda.”
“I have Sadda on the ship, remember?”
“Then the great one will tell you himself. If you or your kind ever come within our space again, we will destroy all of you.”
The signal terminated, and there were no further answers to the other dozen relays I sent.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Celebration City
If it wasn’t frustrating enough that I couldn’t get the medical data I needed to save Hawk’s life, or find out what Qonja was doing, the Captain decided to get all Jorenian on me about going down to the surface of Oenrall.
“Until I know what’s making these people sterile, it’s idiotic to send anyone else but me!” I shouted at the terminal.
“I shall not debate this, Cherijo.” My ClanBrother was using that no-nonsense tone with me, which the console relayed perfectly. “I refuse to allow you to sojourn alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Dhreen is going with me.”
“Dhreen is injured and has severe memory loss. He is also in no condition to help you, should the situation deteriorate, as it did on Taerca. Command out.”
That left me fuming as I prepared to jaunt down to a planet full of people who had been rendered barren by an unknown cause. Naturally, I was going to vent, and Reever just happened to walk in our quarters at that moment.
I said a few uncomplimentary things about Xonea, ending with, “Who does he think he is, telling me how to do my job?”
“The Captain.” Duncan seemed faintly amused.
“Perhaps having a big brother is not the delight you once thought it.”
“Have you looked at the sojourn roster? Why does Squilyp have to come with us?”
“I believe the Omorr wishes to have some time away from the female he is considering as a mate.”
I gave him a baleful look. “I know how he feels. Especially when my husband walks out in the middle of a medical procedure on me and doesn’t answer my signals.”
He went to the viewer. “I was preoccupied.”
“You were dodging me.” I could see the tension in his shoulders, but my supply of patience was running low. “These chameleon cells are serious business, Reever. The theory alone went way beyond risky-I’m not even sure they’ll remain cohesive. We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”
That was when he pulled one of my tricks. “After the sojourn,” he said, and walked out.
To assure himself there would be no monkey business, Xonea piloted the launch down to Oenrall Main Transport. I was too angry at being overruled to say much to him, outside my affirmative snarl to his greeting when we arrived in launch bay three.
Dhreen and Squilyp were already there, waiting to board as an Engineering crew gave the launch a final preflight check. Reever took my medical pack and placed it next to the others waiting to be stowed.
“Don’t juggle this around too much,” I said, handing him the cryogenic carrier.