Shadows In Still Water

by D. T. LeClaire

  Bedden Gel came back, shaking his head. “The water will definitely cover it.”

  “All right people move it,” Aurelia said. “Zimbin, go find a hauler. Do we have any anti-grav pads, Millie?”

  As Millie nodded, she heard Steve make a disgusted noise. “Come on, Miller,” she said, taking his arm and pulling him with her to the parked shuttle. As she opened the hatch and began pulling out the pads, each one about thirty centimeters long and five centimeters thick and shaped like an egg, Millie reassured Steve. “These are just tags for the hauler,” she said. “We don’t usually use the big units on a mission like this. They’re just too much trouble.”

  Steve made no comment as she handed him the anti-grav pads. Shaking her head, Millie followed him back to the water’s edge. She was afraid the kid had a real attitude problem. She would have to keep an eye on him and preferably away from Aurelia.

  “I suppose we students get to put these on the shuttle,” Steve said.

  “This is strictly volunteer,” Aurelia replied sharply.

  Millie suddenly realized the doctor’s face was very white but before she had time to voice her concern, Zimbin came back with the AG hauler, a big, flying, open box with the words John Deere in green and yellow along the side. “Thought I’d get some Kaprinian piece of junk,” Zimbin yelled above the engine noise, with a pleased smile on his face. He leaned over from the controls to offer his hand to Millie. She gripped his furry paw and clambered into the hauler. Passing Millie the tags, Steve shrugged then climbed into the seat behind her. Bridget and Torp Nevad climbed aboard as well, and they were soon hovering over the abandoned remote shuttle.

  “Put these under all the portholes,” Millie instructed, passing out the anti-gravity pads. “Then push this switch up so it points to green.” Taking the tags, the students jumped out of the hauler onto the small square of purple grass around the shuttle.

  Tapping Millie on the shoulder, Zimbin shouted, “We’ll need one on the top and the two ends.”

  Nodding, Millie shouted back while motioning with her hands, “Drop down lower will you?”

  Zimbin maneuvered the craft closer to the shuttle, and Millie hopped out onto the shuttle’s roof, hearing the thump of aluminum popping back from the pressure of her weight. She quickly set one tag just beyond the skylight then stretched out to stick one on the nose of the shuttle.

  Oh, damn, she thought, feeling her foot slip. Sharp metal scraped her arm as she slid down the side, hit the grass then water with a hard splash.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Staring across the water, Aurelia wrapped her arms around her chest and paced back and forth. Her stomach churned and her head felt light but she couldn’t seem to step away from that gleaming silver line.

  Come on, hurry up, Zimbin, she thought. Bedden Gel had called the upper valley requesting more time but they had only given him ten extra minutes. Should have gone myself. She turned to walk back the other way. She knew she never would have been able to stand being in an open hauler hanging over the water. During her recovery from the platerius injury, swimming lessons had been part of her therapy and she had been physically ill after each session.

  The water lapped softly against the pavement as if to gently pull her into its cold embrace. Where the sun could not reach, the water looked dark with shadows.

  Aurelia jumped at a tap on her shoulder and involuntarily swung her fist.

  “Hey! That’s my head you’re trying to take off!” Jak exclaimed, ducking out of the way.

  “Don’t creep up on me like that!”

  “I wasn’t. What’s going on?”

  Aurelia nodded her head toward the end of the street. “One of the shuttles is stuck out there. Zimbin and Millie went to retrieve it.”

  “The crew techs should do that.”

  “They’ve done it before. They can handle it.”

  Jak shrugged. “How did it happen?” he asked.

  Sighing, Aurelia shook her head, “Who knows. Sometimes I wish Rekhaan would take up farming as an occupation. Anything to keep him away from me. How was your council meeting?”

  Jak shrugged again. “Okay. The usual. Do you remember that Kaprinian that was on the space station? The one I said was Kosapi?”

  “The one with the funny antennae.”

  “Well, he’s here. I just saw him. Thought you should know.”

  “So? He is a diplomat. And there is a consulate here.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  Aurelia raised her hands in the air. “I don’t see that there’s anything we can do about it. What am I supposed to do? Say, hey, we don’t like your looks, get off the planet?”

  “Aura, I’m telling you this guy is dangerous and he is here for a reason.”

  “Okay. We’ll tell Millie and keep our eyes open. I don’t think we can do much more than that.”

  Jak frowned and finally nodded, “I guess you’re right but I don’t like it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to start doing some vaccinations.”

  Aurelia watched the young doctor walk up the street and frowned herself. Jak was not prone to undue worry. Perhaps she should keep an eye out for this Kosapi.

  Now what’s going on? she thought seeing Rob Keller stop to talk to Jak for a minute then Jak hurry away. The lab tech continued walking toward her with a huge grin on his face.

  “What are you smiling about?” Aurelia asked.

  “They have a saying on Berellia: Face death with a smile.”

  “You’re not Berellian.”

  “Nooooo,” Rob replied slowly, “but I’m facing certain death.”

  With hands on her hips, Aurelia glared at him, “Now what?!”

  “Uh, Rekhaan just called me,” he began and stepped back a pace. “I guess the shuttle bay doors won’t open. Something about an electrical reflux.”

  Into the quiet sounds of birds chirping and water gently lapping came a stream of hideous words. Even Rob who had spent five years as a sailor in the Earth Armada looked shocked. Aurelia ripped her receiver off her belt, jabbing at the keys so hard she broke the plastic cap off the number two. After that it wouldn’t depress all the way, and, swearing again, Aurelia threw the comm-link on the ground. Reaching out, she yanked Rob’s receiver off his belt, ignoring his sharp yelp. “The little jot of farck meat’s not answering,” Aurelia muttered, having given the crew chief ten seconds to reply. She tapped the numbers in again and kept at it until one of the communication techs answered the call.

  “Where’s Rekhaan?” Aurelia demanded. The little weasel, she thought, I’m sure he calls Keller instead of me.

  “He’s working in the engine room,” the comm tech replied.

  “Will miracles never cease? He’s actually working. What’s this about the bay doors?”

  “They won’t open. In fact we can’t get anything open including the airlocks.”

  Shoving a strand of hair out of her face, Aurelia shook her head, “So what you’re telling me is nobody can get on and nobody can get off?”

  “That’s right.”

  Aurelia could feel the swear words welling up again. “We need the rest of the equipment. Now! Drill a hole in the damn bulkhead if you have to but get it done!” Blowing the breath out of her cheeks, she disconnected the link and threw the receiver back at Keller. A half second later her own receiver beeped. She scooped it up, grimacing at the mud on the back of it, and answered the call.

  “I have Admiral Meng on the line for you, Doctor. I’ll pipe it through,” said the comm tech.

  After a brief delay, the admiral’s voice came through, sounding entirely too cheerful. “How’s my favorite chief surgeon doing?” he asked.

  Aurelia gave a short laugh, “Don’t ask.”

  “Was getting worried about you,” Meng replied. “Couldn’t get through for a long time.”

  “Our communications were out for awhile.” Aurelia explained about the gravity wave, or what
they were calling a gravity wave for now. She thought about telling him of the whole meeting with Arnott and the others but decided it would just sound like she was whining.

  “You say Rekhaan doesn’t think it was a natural phenomenon?” Meng asked.

  “That’s right. It caused a flood here on Jidal. We’re down here now giving vaccinations.”

  “Is there a Kaprinian named Althan Tahk there?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “Hmmm,” was Meng’s reply.

  “You can’t just ask a question like that and not tell me why.”

  “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Well, I am worried. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong as far as I know. Got another call. Talk to you later,” Meng signed off.

  Aurelia frowned. The Admiral didn’t ask questions like that for no reason. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when there was a problem. She recalled her first assignment as a general surgeon on the Healer.

  The ship had answered a call from a Sclarian outpost. The chief surgeon, Dr. Lazarus Stavinsky, a balding, heavyset man with a handlebar mustache who took snuff on the sly, one of the nurses and Aurelia shuttled down to answer the call.

  When they arrived at the main building, they were met by a group of four Sclarians. Their spokesman, who would have rolled down a hill like a basketball if he ever fell, quickly explained why they had called for medical help. “Two Cassopian traders have been here negotiating for a shipment of bilexin gas. Yesterday one of them died for no apparent reason. We want you to do an autopsy on her.”

  “You can’t do that,” spoke up a pale, young Cassopian male who pushed his way through the group of Sclarians. His brown and white wings were raised slightly as if he were agitated. Although his top pair of hands were folded calmly, the bottom two plucked at his shirt.

  Dr. Stavinsky patted his shoulder, “It’s just a scan, son. Nothing invasive.”

  “No,” the head Sclarian objected. “We want a full, open cavity autopsy.”

  “We’d have to have family permission to do that,” Stavinsky replied.

  The Sclarian snorted. “Cassopians don’t have families. Besides Intergalactic law says this happened on our territory so our laws apply. And we don’t need anybody’s permission.”

  Aurelia caught a desperate glance from the Cassopian and quickly stepped forward. “I don’t think that applies on an autopsy. The Cassopian’s right, Dr. Stavinsky, we can’t do this.”

  The chief surgeon frowned at her. “I’ll handle this, Aurelia.”

  She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m telling you, Doctor, an autopsy on a Cassopian is not a good idea.”

  “I did not ask for your opinion, Doctor.”

  “On the way down here you said this would be my case.”

  “I said maybe. I will handle this,” Stavinsky said.

  “You’ll have to get through me first,” the Cassopian declared.

  “And I’ll help him any way I can,” Aurelia added.

  For several hours the standoff lasted. Stavinsky pulled Aurelia aside and demanded to know why an autopsy should not be performed on a Cassopian, but she refused to reveal her reasons. She got a sort of perverse pleasure out of seeing him practically tearing out what little hair remained to him trying to decide what to do. First, he tried to convince the Sclarians to be content with a scan, then he called the Cassopian government and received a terse message refusing permission for an open autopsy, next he called Rama to speak with a judge he knew who was an expert on intergalactic law. Both doctors were back on the Healer, and Stavinsky was no closer to a decision when they received an urgent call from the surface, this time from the Cassopian.

  Only the Cassopian greeted them when they arrived on the outpost. He stood, leaning against the wall, shaking his head. “I think it’s probably too late,” he said leading them into the building and down the hall to a door marked with the Sclarian equivalent of Supply Room. “Don’t touch them with your bare hands,” he cautioned as he opened the door for them.

  Although, Aurelia had known what to expect her stomach still heaved slightly at the sight of the four Sclarians sprawled around the room in grotesque formations of death. The body of the Cassopian lay on a table, its chest cavity ripped open and still dripping with a black liquid that smelled of hydrochloric acid and burnt raisins. The head Sclarian still gripped a knife in his hand though his face was unrecognizable, covered by the poison liquid now turning sticky on his skin. A quick scan showed all four had died quickly from poison.

  “I told them not to do the autopsy,” the Cassopian said.

  Stavinsky turned on him. “Why didn’t you tell us this would happen? What is it? Some kind of poison sac?”

  Nodding, the Cassopian replied, “We do not reveal everything we are capable of to anyone, especially people who were enemies only two years ago.”

  Stavinsky looked over at Aurelia who flipped her hair back and said, “I told you so.”

  Admiral Meng had called at precisely that moment, rescuing her from Stavinsky’s wrath. In fact, the chief surgeon was so furious Aurelia had transferred temporarily to a space station before being assigned to the Pasteur, first as general surgeon then moving up to chief herself.

  “Excuse me, Doc,” Keller said, breaking into her thoughts. “They’re looking for you up at the vaccination site.”

  “I’m on my way,” Aurelia replied, tossing her comm-link to him. “See if you can get that fixed will you? It’s the number two button.”

  Keller nodded and Aurelia limped slowly up the street, hoping Zimbin and Millie would get back soon.

  Chapter Twenty

  Coughing and gagging on salty sludge, Millie gripped Torp Nevad’s strong fingers and pushed with her toes as he pulled her out of the water onto the grass.

  “You okay?” the Raman asked.

  Millie nodded and waved Bridget and Steve back to their places. “I’m okay,” she choked out the words. “Finish those tags. We don’t have much time.” Shoving strands of wet hair out of her face and mouth, Millie picked up the last anti-gravity tag which had landed on the grass instead of in the water. She limped to the end of the shuttle and stuck the tag as high up as she could reach. Already, her back and neck felt sore. Turning her arm over, she examined the long, oozing red scratch that was just beginning to sting. She waved at Zimbin.

  Lowering the hauler, Zimbin waited for them all to climb aboard. “You okay, Mil? I thought we’d lost you for a minute,” he said when they were all on board.

  “It’s not that easy to lose me,” Millie laughed. “I’m fine,” she assured him.

  The Berellian nodded and thumbed a combination into his control pad. The sound of the engines changed to a high-pitched, steady tone and in a few minutes the hauler lifted the shuttle off its grassy knoll. The vehicle floated directly below the hauler and no matter how she turned, Millie couldn’t see it. With her neck protesting, she asked Zimbin, “Is it in balance?”

  Checking his instruments, he nodded, “It’s okay. We’re out of here.”

  By the time they reached the spot where they had left Aurelia, the water had already risen to that point so they flew on to Linden Court. Zimbin set the shuttle down and released it then landed the hauler. Climbing out carefully, Millie walked over to the shuttle and opened the door. Some water had leaked in and several of the equipment boxes were covered with mud.

  “What happened to you?” Millie heard Aurelia’s voice behind her and turned around, holding one of the boxes in her arms.

  “Just an unexpected swim. Got a nice scratch. I think I gave myself whiplash too.”

  Aurelia frowned, “Do you want me to check it?”

  “Nah, just give me two Tridols. I’ll be fine.”

  The doctor fished through her utility belt then glanced around. “Jak,” Aurelia called. “Do you have any Tridol?”

  The Kaprinian waved and finished the vaccination he was performi
ng then sauntered over to the two women. His nose wrinkling, he looked Millie over. “Phew, you smell ripe.”

  “Gee, thanks. I’m thinking of bottling it. Essence of rotting fish,” Millie replied than looked up at him suspiciously. “Have you been with the council all this time?” she asked.

  “No,” Jak admitted, both antennae waving lazily. “I did some shopping and ate lunch.”

  “Oh, you did a little shopping and ate lunch, how nice. Here!” Millie shoved the box into his arms.

  With a yelp, Jak pulled the box away from his chest but a wide band of mud already streaked his dress uniform.

  “Look what you did!” he yelled, dropping the box and swiping at his shirt. “Now I’m going to have to go back up to the ship and change.”

  “Oh, here,” Millie said, feeling slightly guilty as she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his muddy front.

  “That won’t be possible,” Aurelia said. “The shuttle bay doors won’t open.”

  “What?!” It was a chorus from Millie and Jak.

  “We can’t get in or out.”

  “Okay, people,” Millie said, suddenly feeling more than exasperated. She picked up an orange box that had a handle on top and started walking up the road. “I’m going to go put up one of these domes and take a shower. And then I’m going to do nothing for the rest of the day.”

  “Oh, Millie, I forgot to tell you...” Jak began.

  “Save it,” Millie interrupted, throwing the words over her shoulder. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

  “But it’s important.”

  “Oh no, it’s not.” Millie waved and kept walking.

  Despite her best intentions, after her shower, Millie ended up helping Zimbin and the students set up camp in a park-like area just below the bluff. It was rather a pitiful sight with only four envirodomes where normally there would be more than ten. The rounded structures held six to eight people each in comfort with regular beds and a temperature controlled environment. In addition, a large water-repellent tarp had been rolled out along with an odd assortment of cots, sleeping bags and cushioned mats. Zimbin had checked all the hotels in town but they were already filled with flood victims. Some of the townspeople had scrounged up a few extra mats and blankets for them. A couple of cases of rations had made it down from the ship but most people were opting to eat in town.