by Viehl, S. L.
“Mama.”
“Or kiss you. As for this little purple flower”—I rolled my eyes up toward my hairline—“I will slice open the first person who tries to put it on my head.”
A giggle escaped her. “What if it’s me or Daddy?”
“I can’t gut either of you. Hmmm.” I pretended to think about it. “I know. I will yell ‘No’ very loud, and then I will run away.” I touched my forehead to hers in Jorenian fashion. “I promise you.”
“Mama, you’re so silly.” Sighing, Marel pulled me to my feet. “Come on, I’ll show you the tide pools. That’s where the best shells are.”
We half ran, half skidded our way down the side of the dune, and then walked toward a cluster of flat stones that held shallow pools of dark water.
Something caught Marel’s eye, and she stopped and pointed. “Who’s that, Mama?”
I shaded my eyes with my hand and saw in the distance a tall, lean figure rising from the water and removing a breather. Black swimming trunks covered the man’s hips, but the rest of his body remained bare. At first I thought him a crossbreed like Nalek Kalea, until he shook himself all over to shed the water from his dark brown pelt.
“I think that is Jylyj, a Skartesh resident who works at the medical facility.” I cupped my hands over my mouth and called out his name, and then waved.
The Skartesh halted and turned toward the sound of my voice, but instead of returning my call or waving back, he waded out of the water, picked up some gear, and disappeared behind a dune.
“Why did he go away?” Marel asked, clearly disappointed.
“I don’t know.” I watched for a moment longer, but Jylyj did not reappear. “Perhaps he had to report for duty. It matters not.” I held out my hand. “Come.”
We hunted shells for the rest of the morning, collecting a large variety from the tide pools. Although they still looked like skeletons to me, I admired each one and helped Marel string the smallest and most colorful to make a necklace.
On our walk back to the pavilion, Reever met us halfway, and gravely ducked his head so Marel could loop the necklace of shells around his neck.
“Do you like it, Daddy?”
“I have never had such a gift. Thank you, avasa.” He picked her up in his arms and gave me a pointed look. “Next time you must make one for your mother.”
“Mama says healers can’t wear ornaments because of the scanners they use,” Marel confided to him. “The shells would make the readings wrong.”
“I could speak to the Senior Healer,” Reever suggested. “Perhaps he could adjust the scanners.”
“No need.” I showed my husband some teeth. “I will take pleasure in seeing you wear yours.”
On the way back to our quarters, Marel told her father about the tiny water creatures we had discovered in the tide pools, and how they tickled our fingers as we searched for shells.
“There are more bigger ones that live out on the sand-bar, but Mama doesn’t swim, so she said we couldn’t go there without you.” Marel glanced at me. “Mama, you should ask the wolf man to teach you to swim.”
“The wolf man?”
“We saw Jylyj at the other end of the shore,” I explained. “He was swimming.”
Reever gave me an odd look. “You must be mistaken.”
“No, I’m almost sure it was him.” Something occurred to me. “Unless there are other Skartesh on Joren—that might explain why he left as soon as I called out to him.”
Later that evening, after Marel had gone to sleep, Reever asked me again about seeing the Skartesh down at the shoreline. “Tell me everything you remember.”
I described how Marel had spotted Jylyj coming out of the water, how the Skartesh had removed his breather, and how quickly he had left after I had called to him.
“It could not have been Jylyj,” Reever said after I had finished. “His species cannot tolerate water.”
I shook my head. “Every living thing needs some form of water to survive.”
“Come here, I will show you.” Reever took me to the room terminal and accessed the database for information on the Skartesh.
I read the section displayed about species environmental hazards. “They are hydrophobic?”
“To such an extreme degree that no Skartesh would voluntarily go near the water,” Reever told me. “Exposure to any amount makes them ill. Immersion causes shock and unconsciousness.”
“The male I saw was tall, dark, and covered in fur,” I said, “and he moved like Jylyj. I am convinced it was him. But if no Skartesh can endure water exposure, then ...”
“He cannot be Skartesh,” Reever said, finishing my thought.
My husband and I had already encountered one alterformed being on Vtaga. PyrsVar, a renegade Hsktskt male whose body had been altered to appear Jorenian, had been one such being. SrrokVar, one of Cherijo’s old enemies, had alterformed the renegade as part of his plan to infect League worlds with the Vtagan plague.
I didn’t want to believe that I had invited an alterform to join our expedition. “He would have had to submit a DNA sample in order to obtain a transfer from K-2 to Joren.”
Reever nodded. “But as a doctor living among the Skartesh, he could have easily obtained a genuine DNA sample from one of their males and submitted it as his own.”
I felt a little sick. “I should ask him if that is what he did.”
“If Jylyj has been alterformed, it could not have been for any innocent reason,” Reever said. “Confronting him is too dangerous.”
“I agree, but as he is a member of the expedition, I would rather find out now than while we are in space.” I picked up one of my medical scanners and turned it over in my hands. “If only I could perform a physical on him. I could say it is a requirement for everyone going on the expedition.”
“That is not standard crew procedure, and he has worked on Joren for some time now. He will know you are lying.” Reever took the scanner from me and set it aside. “We’ll think of something else.”
“Jylyj was off duty this morning, so he will be working the night shift at the medical facility,” I said. “There are some patients I would like to see before we leave. I think I will go over there now.”
Reever didn’t like that. “What are you planning to do?”
“If I can obtain a sample of his DNA, that should confirm what he is.” I glanced down as Jenner rubbed his head against my calf, and then leapt up onto my lap and butted his head against my chest.
“Whether he is Skartesh or not, you will have to have his cooperation to obtain a sample,” my husband warned. “He will first want to know why you want it.”
“True.” I put the cat down on the floor, and looked at the stray silver hairs left on my trousers. “Unless I can collect the DNA from somewhere other than his person.”
“Be careful.” Reever handed me my blade harness. “For if you do not return in two hours, I will go to collect the Skartesh’s DNA. With a blade.”
Driving to the medical facility took only a few moments, and after signing in with the duty nurse at reception, I went up to the surgical floor. I didn’t bother to announce myself, but made my way around the quiet, dimly lit ward, stopping here and there to read charts. As I expected, Jylyj left the ward station as soon as he saw me and came to the berth where I stood.
“I was not aware you were on call, Jarn,” he said, his voice low so as not to disturb the patient.
“I’m not. I couldn’t sleep, and I know Squilyp is in the capital, so I thought I would stop in and check on the ward.” I handed him the chart. “This female’s bone scans look very good.” I pulled up the linens covering the bonesetters clamped to her fractured legs, exposing her to the waist, but did not pull them back in place. “If her progress remains stable, she should be scheduled to begin physical therapy by the end of the week.”
“I stated the same on the consult I sent to the physical therapist earlier this evening.” He hung the chart on the end of the berth before re-draping
the patient’s limbs. “Is there anything else?”
“I saw you today down at Adalan Point as you came out of the water.” I came around the berth and looked up at him. “Why did you ignore me when I called to you?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I was not in any water.” He didn’t look guilty or angry, only bewildered. “My species cannot tolerate immersion of any kind.”
“I saw a Skartesh male walking out of the water,” I said. “To my knowledge, you are the only Skartesh, male or female, presently on Joren.”
“I’m sorry, but it was not me,” he replied. “I had a duty shift scheduled for tonight, so I spent most of the morning asleep in my bed.”
I mimed a doubtful expression. “Then who did I see down there?”
“Perhaps no one,” he said very tentatively. “Stress combined with exhaustion sometimes causes visual hallucinations. Have you spoken to the Senior Healer about your insomnia? He’ll be returning tomorrow, and he might prescribe a tranquilizer to help you rest.”
His concern seemed so genuine that it nearly convinced me of his innocence. I did not have hallucinations, however. I also knew that an alterform would be trained to put on a superb performance, including how to justify any mistakes he made.
I would have to rely on what his DNA told me.
“Thank you for the advice. I will speak to Squilyp about it before we leave.” I lifted my medical case. “While I am here, I would like to recharge my personal syrinpresses and requisition some additional equipment. Would you ask one of the nurses to meet me in the drug storage room?”
He nodded and went off to the nurses’ station. I quickly pulled on a glove and retrieved the three long, dark brown hairs adhering to the strip of spray adhesive I had surreptitiously applied to the edge of the berth linens, and placed them in a small specimen container. By the time a nurse reported to me I had stowed the hairs in the bottom of my case.
Once I had recharged my syrinpresses with the standard medications a traveling physician carried, I asked the nurse to requisition a DNA scanner for me, and added that to my case.
My request did perplex the nurse, who asked, “Do you expect to do a great deal of genetic testing during your sojourn, Healer?”
“I doubt it, but I would rather be prepared than not.” I glanced out at the nurses’ station, where Jylyj was writing up patient orders. “The path is not the only thing that changes.”
I returned to our quarters and immediately removed from my case the hairs I had collected from Jylyj to scan them. Reever brought me a server of tea and watched silently as the results appeared on the display.
“The DNA from his hair follicles is that of an adult Skartesh male,” I said, disappointed. “Either he really is Skartesh, or a shape-shifter like Tya, who can manipulate his own DNA. Either way, he is not an alterform.” One unusual reading caught my eye—an elevated PH level—and I scanned the hairs again, but this time for minerals. “There are trace amounts of sodium chloride on the outside of the follicle and the hair shaft.”
“It could be salt residue from his sweat,” Reever suggested.
“Or from seawater.” I went to the terminal and accessed the database. Like most furred beings, the Skartesh did not sweat through their pores. “It is not from sweat. Jylyj perspires only through his respiratory tract.”
Reever leaned over my shoulder and tapped the console, bringing up another section. “Skartesh also cleanse themselves by applying dry sand to their pelts.”
That confused me. “What has sand bathing to do with salt residue?”
“In antiquity, this region was covered by seawater,” he said. “I doubt you will find any soil on Torin land that does not contain some trace of salt.”
I hated it when my husband destroyed one of my theories. “So there is no valid reason to suspect that Jylyj is anything but what he appears to be.” I thought about what the resident had suggested. “What if this has something to do with me instead of him? Could it have been some errant memory that made me imagine that I saw him in the water?”
“Neither I nor Cherijo had any contact with the Skartesh,” Reever said. “The species were still living on their homeworld when she was serving on K-2. By the time they fled their planet, you were already on Akkabarr.”
“Where I never saw a single Skartesh, either.” I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Perhaps I did make a mistake, and saw someone else who resembled Jylyj. That would explain why the male did not respond to my call.” But I had been so sure, and that still bothered me.
“Let it go for now.” My husband reached over, switched off the terminal, and drew me to my feet. “Come to bed.”
Thinking about the Skartesh kept me from sleeping well that night, but near dawn I finally drifted off from exhaustion. I woke alone, and found a message from Reever stating that he and Marel had gone on an outing to see the famous tiered gardens of HouseClan Varena, and would return later that day.
I suspected my husband had been aware of my restlessness and had taken our daughter out to allow me additional time to sleep. But I had no desire to return to bed or spend the day in idleness. Fortunately, Squilyp signaled soon after that to ask if I would work a few hours at the medical facility.
“The Adan have invited me to stay for another day,” the Omorr explained,“and I won’t return in time to make surgical rounds. Jylyj mentioned that you stopped in last night to look in on some of the patients, so I thought you wouldn’t mind paying them another visit today.”
I wondered exactly what the resident had said to the Senior Healer. “I have no objection, but your resident might.”
Squilyp looked surprised. “Not at all. In fact, I assumed you and Duncan were off with Marel, so I wouldn’t have signaled, if not for Jylyj’s suggestion. He would rather have you than one of the on-call Jorenian healers.” Humor glinted in his dark eyes. “I think you have made another conquest, Doctor.”
I thought the exact opposite, but I wouldn’t find out what Jylyj’s motives were by hiding in my quarters. “I’ll be there shortly.”
This time I put a pistol belt as well as my blade harness under my tunic, and strapped my forearms with the twin sheaths I had worn on the battlefields on Akkabarr. Whatever Jylyj wanted from me, I intended to be prepared for the worst.
The Skartesh stood waiting outside the entrance to the surgical ward, as if watching for me, but greeted me in his usual reserved fashion and thanked me for replacing Squilyp. His voice sounded as tired as I felt, and the weight of the weapons concealed under my tunic dragged at me, as if to condemn me for my assumptions.
“We have two post-op patients just transferred from recovery,” the resident said as we walked down the line of berths. “One male had a moderate reaction to the anesthesia and is not yet lucid. With your consent, we should start with his case.”
Jorenians rarely had reactions to sedation, but when they did, they could become combative. “Have you put him in restraints?”
Jylyj nodded. “We had trouble shifting him to the berth. I had to use all the nurses to hold him in place while I strapped him down.”
The patient in question, an enormous male with serious internal injuries from a transport mishap, was semiconscious and trying to move despite the restraints. As soon as he saw us, he began babbling nonsense and straining to lift himself away from the berth.
Much more of this and he would tear open his sutures. “Why didn’t recovery administer neuroparalyzer?”
“They did,” Jylyj said. “Three separate doses. It had no effect.”
The only reason for that would be the presence of a counteragent. “Run a tox scan.” I went over to the side of the berth and put my hand on the patient’s brow. “ClanSon, you must be still now. You are only making your wounds worse by fighting.”
The male stopped moving and stared up at me. “Who are you?”
“I am Healer Torin. This is Healer Jylyj.”
The white eyes shifted from my face to the resident’s a
nd back again. “Where am I? What are you?”
I realized too late that my Terran features and Jylyj’s Skartesh countenance would seem strange, even frightening, to a patient in his condition. “You are in HouseClan Torin’s medical facility. We are the healers who are caring for you.”
The male looked down at the scanner Jylyj was passing over his chest and fought wildly against the straps.
“ClanSon, you must be still,” I began to tell him, but then one of his arms ripped free of the straps. I saw a huge blue fist coming at my face, turned quickly and took the blow on my shoulder. The force of the impact still sent me flying across the next berth and into a storage unit, which collapsed under me.
I winced, sitting up and reaching for whatever was stabbing into the back of my shoulder. I couldn’t reach it, and my hand came away red with blood.
I looked over and saw that three nurses now surrounded the berth, holding down the patient while Jylyj reinforced the restraints and administered an infusion. By the time I staggered to my feet, the patient was unconscious.
Jylyj came to me and saw the blood on my tunic. “You are injured.”
“Something’s stuck in my back.” Wet warm inched down my spine, and I felt the familiar dizziness that accompanied rapid blood loss. “I’ll get a nurse to see to it. Check our patient for internal hemorrhaging. What knocked him out?”
“I don’t know, but he’s not bleeding inside. Jarn.” Jylyj caught me as I sagged, and lifted me into his arms. He began issuing orders as he carried me into a procedure room.
I found myself facedown on a treatment table. “You don’t have to do this,” I told the resident. “A nurse can clean out the wound. Go take care of the patient.”
“Must I put you in restraints?” He slit my tunic from hem to neck and pulled it aside. He didn’t do or say anything for a moment, and then I felt blunt claws trace a strap of my blade harness. “Why are you armed?”
“I’m always armed.” I lifted my head and tried to look over my shoulder. “What’s making me bleed?”