“We can’t trust it not to be true.”
“It squares with something my computer friend said. That Klein might still be on Song Pa under the alias Joe Miller.”
“Look, Ragatti told me she has wangled a travel permit to visit some spaceport on Song Pai, in case we ever were contacted. I’m calling her now to see if she can depart right away. It’s a shot in the dark, but we must do what we can. While I do that, see if you can locate this Fatty from Tahini so we can send him a gift.”
Slowly, Klein became aware of Hell. He could hear the souls of the damned around him before he could see anything. They were moaning and screeching in torment. He realized that he was part of this moaning and screeching, that his own pain was indistinguishable from theirs. He finally managed to focus with one eye. The walls and the floor of Hell seemed to be smeared with pus and blood. It should smell awful, too. Wasn’t there supposed to be brimstone? Why couldn’t he smell? He couldn’t move. Maybe you weren’t supposed to move in Hell. This played over time and again between screams before he could make any progress. Then the horrifying thought came to him that perhaps he was not dead.
The holding area where the Song Pai had hauled his carcass was not a hospital. They didn’t have hospitals or doctors, except for the unborn and the very young. Their science brooded over the preservation of ova and sperm from warriors sent out into space. The honored dead had their frozen gametes activated in the warm sheltered waters of the hatcheries, where they were carefully trained by adults in all they needed to know. Then when maturity reached its first threshold, they were released to fend for themselves. A Song Pai maxim: Beyond the sheltering reef, fight hard or die. Any desire for self-preservation from sickness or injury was a serious character defect and signaled unworthiness for survival. The Song Pai literally didn’t care whether an indentured servant lived or died. Better if he died, in fact, because no final bonus would have to be paid. While servants could still breathe they were under contract. Contract said three meals a day and a place to sleep, but nothing about doctors or hospitals. Those unfit for work were put in a holding area and it was their business to walk back out. There was no effort to disinfect wounds, apply bandages, keep out vermin, or any of the most basic procedures of medicine.
Klein woke up when he felt something banging at his lower body. He was eventually able to perceive it was a fellow indenture, a humanoid of some kind, bashing away with a crutch. Then he saw what he was bashing at. A crab-like thing was tearing away at one of Klein’s legs, gobbling strips of flesh. Finally the indenture made a side swing that dislodged the crab and sent it flying across the room into the darkness. The fellow inmate hobbled off on his crutch to chase the thing. Klein never saw him again. Then he once more passed out.
The buzzing woke him up. “Let me just die!” he tried to say, but all that came out was an inarticulate scream that sent up a cloud of flies from where he lay. He almost wished he could feel the maggots because he knew they were there. Seeing them, however horrible, would be better than his having to imagine them. He tried to shake his body, but nothing seemed to respond. He had no idea how much time was passing or when he had been brought to this place and he had lost all interest in any future. He kept repeating silently that he wanted to go now, until the mantra somehow erased his consciousness once again.
The liquid brought him back again. Burial at sea. Slide into the liquid arms of the sea and surrender. The liquid was lapping at his body and calling to him. He pried his lips apart and waited for the water to come in so he could gulp it greedily into his lungs. But that didn’t happen. It was only coming in a drop at a time. It was salty but also sweet. Was this some new torture Satan had devised? Or maybe God? He tried with all his might to thrash his body around and actually was able to budge a centimeter or two before he cried out in pain again. “Shhh. Shhh,” said God, as he removed something that had been covering his eyes. One eye, anyway. It could hardly be called a good eye because it refused to focus. “I need you to stop moving while I finish this,” said God, pressing down lightly on his chest to keep him in place. He aimed his eye at the voice, hoping that the radiance of God would just disintegrate him.
But God had no radiance, for he was black. A sad black face that Klein tried to recall from a ravaged memory. God’s name was Trevor. The liquid was disinfectant solution on a sponge that Trevor was applying in a very careful but persistent way to what remained of a human body. “Shh. That’s good. Calm down. This won’t hurt. As soon as I get finished cleaning you up, I’m taking you out of this dump. You are not in a good way, friend Klein. Can you understand me? Yes, I can see you do. Remember, it’s Trevor and you’re still in the Circle as long as I’m around. You do look positively awful. It took forever to get the bugs off you. Out of you, too. I can’t do much more than clean you and move you. Before I do the moving, I got something to knock you out for a good long time – no pain. Someone else is coming who can help you more. Now you won’t see this and it might give you a twinge for a second, but after that it’s sleepy time, so you relax. There, there, there…”
When he was able to look up again, he was in a place with clean grey walls. Above him, something purple was moving around. “Entara!” he tried to say, but all that came out was “Eh, Eh.”
“Stop trying to talk, now, I’m not done yet. There.” The thing reached down and patted the area around his eye with gauze. “Can you see me now? Sorry to disappoint you. I know you were trying to call Entara.”
He could see it was a Forlani with a sky-blue tunic. Not Entara. The face finally assembled in his mind. This was Ragatti. “Klein, darling, you are, as Trevor says, an unholy mess! You’re just lucky you had a mating and birthing specialist to help you, because you were more exsanguinated than any pierced young wife that I ever worked on.” She gave him a little caress. “But does your girl Ragatti know blood or not? I was even able to get some of your own human blood type for you. Through a little trade I worked out with some of your co-earthlings.” She smirked, thinking of the series of rapid seductions and sex services she had exchanged for some type A positive. “I think I can say I’ve done pretty well. You should see the cute nose I worked out. But it’s not all good news. You, my pet, have some things wrong that go far beyond my training. We’re going to have to move you again. Right now you’re in the decontamination unit at Song Pai Spaceport Three. The only remotely germ-free area I could find in this pesthole. While Trevor was watching you last night I managed to contact a medivac team that will arrive in about an hour to take you to Corlatis. I’m already cleared to visit the Epidemiology Center there and they agreed to take you as an emergency case. That place has every type of specialty covered, and I suppose they’ll all want to have a little hand in your treatment. You may wind up in the surgical manuals.”
The joking mood disappeared as she looked at Klein with serious compassion. “There’s one more bit of bad news. You’ll find out soon anyway. We had to take your right leg below the knee. There wasn’t much left anyway after what you went through before Trevor found you.” Her smile returned and she added, “Now if we were back at the mahäme, I’d fit you myself with a perfectly beautiful Forlani prosthesis. You’d be surprised how many girls fall out of trees or get crushed when something collapses. But the aces on Corlatis will probably insist on giving you the latest ultra-modern, top-tech thing, so we’d better let them. I can hear Trevor coming down the corridor now, and that means it’s time to prep you for the ride.” She reached to swab his brow again and he tried to kiss her fingers.
“Watch it, lover, none of that now till your jaw‘s unwired.” But she lowered her face to his and kissed him tenderly on his lacerated lips, slipping a needle into his arm so that the sensation of her warm, moist mouth was the last thing he felt before he dozed off.
Recovering from his sleep, Klein could sense he was somewhere new. He slowly decided it was the low gravity, so unlike the pull of massive Song Pa. A clean, well-lighted place -- he tried to place the phrase that
sprang into his head from somewhere. This was it. He had taken a couple of hours getting used to sensations from parts of his body he never expected to feel again, except in a stab of agony. He wiggled, flexed, blinked, and burped. Now he was trying to decide why a big raccoon was sitting on his bed staring at him. Maybe his brain had gone bad and they’d taken out the sensible part. Eventually the animal removed its mask, which Klein realized was a medical viewing scope. On second thought, it looked more like a giant coati, or maybe some kind of Australian critter he’s seen on a nature video long ago. It began to speak through a fuzzy vocal interpreter.
“Now, Mr. Klein, I am your doctor. Please answer “yes” with your vocal chords if you can.”
“Yes,” Klein croaked, surprised at how unusual his own voice had become.
“Very good, now tell me if you feel it when I touch these places, and tell me if it hurts at all.” Coati proceeded to give him a pretty thorough poking that excited a few twinges, but no real suffering.
“Here? Oh, very good. Here? Ok. Over here now. Nothing? That’s a bit strange, we’ll have to consult on that. Perhaps a little electrolytic occlusion. Over here? Fine. All right, Mr. Klein. I’m Tatatio and I did your ventral area yesterday. Was it ever interesting! Yes, we took things out of your belly that were fascinating -- animal, vegetable, and mineral -- made a nice little film I’ll show at a convention. Your intestines were a most delightful puzzle to solve, and you should have seen the beautiful bit of liver I grew and grafted in! A perfect fit. Coco138 did your thorax a few days ago, but didn’t find anything very interesting, just a little touch-up and cleaning of your lungs. In most exposed places, we didn’t do anything but tweak what Ragatti did on you, other than pump in a lot more fluids and pick at a little detail here and there. Can you hear me ok? How about now? Hello? Hello?”
He adjusted the volume on his translator, trying different settings. “Well, it looks like you’ve still got a couple of aural frequency blanks, but not too bad. After all, you’d never on your best days hear all the things I can. It was someone from your own home planet who worked on your ear and I must say, I like the way she restored that lobe. We don’t get many humans up here, you know. You do realize you’re on Corlatis? Part of the Coriolis system. Nice little exoplanet with just enough gravity and no atmosphere – we make our own here. Earthlings couldn’t get in until a few years ago, since we’re technically in Blynthian space and we still respect what you call the Quarantine Treaty of 1947. The defense forces still strictly control the perimeter, but we do admit talented individuals once in a while. After all, you humans are filled with nasty micro-organisms of all kinds and it helps to have some of your brighter minds to cooperate with once in a while. You’ve heard of the latest outbreak on Earth? Gruesome stuff, but so far it’s been confined. Anyway, I chatter on and on. So what’s next is that a prosthetic team will attach your new leg before long. All fabricated and tested of course, but they’re making a few last-minute cosmetic touches to make it match as well as possible. Then Torghh will do that wonky eye of yours and we should be ready to let your friend Trevor take you away. Any questions? Rest for now, best medicine of all.”
He found himself surprisingly relaxed and passive as he adapted to the hospital routine. Regular and irregular visits from all the multi-species staff, including Ragatti, who couldn’t stop bragging about how much nicer a nose she’d given him than what he had before. After the leg work, there were little strolls around the room to test the prosthesis and get him used to walking again. Regular meals of “mush-in-a-bag” brought by an attendant who was no more than a girl, like the candy-stripers of old. They even managed to scrounge up some symphonies for him to listen to. He never did get to meet Dr. Torghh, because after the surgery they bandaged both of his eyes to prevent him from trying to move them too much and damage the work.
He really couldn’t understand the doctors most of the time, but he liked to exchange a few sentences with the little candy-striper. He heard her enter the room. “Hi, Mr. Klein. It’s me, Amanda. You feeling all right? I’m so anxious to see your new eye. I bet it will be beautiful. Torghh is a bit stuffy, but he just performs miracles on all kinds of eyes. I’ve got something good for you today, real solid food for a change and I know it’s good because I helped cook some of it. We’ve got a turkey patty with onion gravy, mashed potatoes, spinach, and some real traditional cherry Jell-O. What do you want to start with?”
“Turkey, please.”
“Here it comes, but mind you don’t chew too hard. We don’t want to loosen any of those jaw pins.”
“Mmm. Delicious. A bit of the tea, thanks. Nice. Amanda, how did you get here from Earth?”
“Never been there. I’m a true space-brat. I have been planet-side, to Dahlgren and Tau Ceti Mu and Forsythe. Mostly I’ve drifted around ships and transfer stations. Can’t go to Earth now because of the plague, but to tell you the truth, I’m not sure I want to. Dr. Tatatio told me there’s a planet in this sector with unusual magnetism where there are colors dancing in the sky all day and night. That sounds so beautiful! That’s what I want to see.”
“What do you think of Doctor Ragatti?”
“I know you’re a friend of hers from way back because she told me, but I have to say, Mr. Klein that she is one sexpot! The whole surgery team is off right now having a party to celebrate their work on you and I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns into an orgy. Doctors are pretty touchy-feely anyway, regardless of their species, but with her… she’s a vixen. And that’s in public – I can’t imagine what she does in private. Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Klein. I shouldn’t be saying these things about a friend of yours.”
“Amanda,“ Klein replied between spoons of potatoes and Jell-O, “I think she would be flattered. I can tell you from personal experience that Ragatti is never stingy with her warmth or affection. Not many Forlani are, but she does stand out. I can’t seem to resist them.”
“I’ve enjoyed our chats. I’ll miss you when you move on. You must lead such an exciting life.”
“Too exciting, most people would say,” commented Klein as he finished off his meal. “And now I would agree with them. Pretty soon I think I’ll have to talk about my life with some friends who see things differently and I don’t know how I‘m going to account for myself.”
“Is that why Trevor is taking you away? He doesn’t seem to be mad at you or resentful. Maybe it won’t be as bad as you imagine.”
“The mad, resentful part will not be with him or the Circle. It will be with me. It’s always been inside me.”
“Well, then, I’m optimistic, because Dr. Tatatio says your new insides are a beacon for the galaxy, so they can’t do you wrong. Bye now.”
All told, Klein’s recuperation took a bit longer than planned, due to ship schedules that no one at the clinic could control. Before Klein and Trevor left, Ragatti came to say goodbye, since she was departing earlier in another direction. She astonished Klein by locking the door, leaping up to slap an adhesive over the monitor camera, slipping off her gossamer robe and climbing into bed with him.
“I’m here to pronounce you fully cured and I intend to give you what you humans call a happy ending.”
She began by kissing him on the mouth and the eyelids and then licked the side of his nose. “Mmm. Your new nose tastes as good as it looks, I must say, even if your human nostrils are so dull. If you could smell what we can, you’d realize how much I desire to please you right now. They say human noses are linked to other parts of the anatomy. My! They seem to be right. Let me just try this. Ahh, that tickles just right. I’ve been looking forward to having a proper goodbye to make up for that “bum’s rush” you gave me on Domremy. And that gives me an idea. Get down off this bed and let‘s see if your new legs are up to a little exercise. Just enjoy.”
Klein was completely swept up by Ragatti’s onslaught of sexuality, even though Forlani females generally described these copulations as competent pleasure service or massages rather than true intercourse
. Ragatti was wholeheartedly giving herself over to lavishing attention on Klein through every position and trick he could imagine and she was playing him like a Stradivarius. Suddenly she seized him with arms and tail and flipped him up to the bed again.
“Ragatti, I can’t resist you, sweetheart!”
“I bet you can’t.” She leaned over him and stared down as her muscles completely took control of Klein’s desires. “I can give you the same little things you used to enjoy so much, just as nice and moist and warm as you like. How’s that? Yes! And that? Maybe this way? Just a little warmer? I can do whatever you want, mister. You just say.”
Klein was so rapt with enjoyment that he couldn’t manage to say much of anything that was articulate.
“Ahhh. Ahhh. Ahh! That’s all you need to say, Klein. Ragatti’s got you totally under her spell now and she’s going to top it off right NOW!”
As Klein was shuddering and hugging her close, she kissed his ear lobe and whispered in it. “Now you’ve had a Forlani body that’s never been ripped apart by a male in mating and never will be. I prefer to come together with you. And if you hadn’t saved me by sending me away from Cashman and his goons, I would have lived to just hold onto you night after night until they killed me. I would have been happy to die right here, lying beside you. In fact, I thought about it. It would have been so easy to bring a little syringe into the room for both of us, and I would have been the last creature that Klein thought of or felt before he went into the hereafter.” She whispered this because she knew Klein has already slipped away into a post-coital half-dream. “It’s all right, darling, because I don’t really believe it deep down. I’m just trying to persuade myself that I’m stronger than I truly am. Ragatti is Ragatti and, big medical doctor that she is today, she will always be a little bed-hopper trying to have her way with another human instead of with those things that pass for male on Forlan. But I’ll tell you this, sweet. Even if I had been mated and had let my guts been sliced up by one of them, I wouldn’t have let you go. If you had come across space to save me, I would have clung to you like a second skin. Even if I had felt a hundred little bodies come sliding down my birth canal and every one of them drove me wild with happiness until I was insane, I wouldn’t have let you go. Ragatti would have found a place to hide you and keep you safe if she had to dig to the center of the world to do it. She would never have sent you to that shithole of Song Pa so you could blow your parts all over the surface and had to be sown up by some little flesh seamstress, clever as she is. But even as she’s saying this, she knows you’ll never hear it or know it, because she’s afraid you still love Entara, and all the time you’d be kissing Ragatti out of gratitude and telling her she was the one you longed for, you’d still be saying it to the damned high-holy Entara-para-para, the one I would wish I could be if I were not me. And right now, me is going to leave you warm and happy and breathing lightly but strongly. I’m going to lick these little stitches on your new nose just a little, because I put them there and I’m the only one in the universe who can see them. No one else knows that about you, even Entara.”
Life Sentence (Forlani Saga Book 1) Page 29