by Viehl, S. L.
“A piece of alloy. Hold still.” Jylyj brought a suture tray over to the table and cut away more of my tunic, exposing my right shoulder.
“Don’t give me a local; they have no effect on me.” I felt impatient as he scanned the wound. “Whatever it is, just pull it out and repair the bleeders. It won’t kill me.”
“No, but it could paralyze you. One end has lodged close to your spine.” Soft fur touched the back of my neck as he covered my face with a surgical drape. “You must not move when I am removing it.”
“I won’t.” I gripped the edge of the table with both hands. “Do it.”
He enabled a suture laser, then his fur brushed my skin. The thing in my back slid sideways, and I took in a sharp breath as pain slashed across my shoulders.
The extraction took only a few seconds, but it felt as if it took forever. My vision blurred, and I heard metal hitting a tray. The rawness of my wound turned scalding hot as Jylyj went to work with the suture laser.
“I’ve found three bleeders,” he told me as he worked. “None of them are serious.”
“Right.” I gritted my teeth as the smell of my own flesh being cauterized filled my nose.
To Jylyj’s credit, he worked very fast, pausing only to scan the wound for debris before he irrigated it, closed it, and began to apply a light dressing.
“I don’t need that,” I told him, lifting my head under the shroud. “Take this thing off my face.”
“Something’s wrong.” Blunted claws curled over the back of my neck. “Stay where you are.”
“It’s no cause for alarm.” I could feel the edges of the wound shrinking, and knew he was watching it happen. “I heal very fast.”
“That would explain why one of the shallow bleeders repaired itself.” The clamping hold he had on my neck eased, became almost gentle. At the same time, a deliciously warm sensation spread out over my back. “You’re not Terran or Akkabarran. They don’t heal like this.”
“It’s a long story.” I didn’t like the way my body was going limp. “What are you . . .” The rest was lost along with my consciousness.
When I opened my eyes some time later, I saw the ceiling of the procedure room. Jylyj had turned me over, removed the remains of my tunic, and draped me with a modesty shroud. I saw him hovering, and glanced down at the sponge he was using to clean the blood from my neck.
“How long was I out?”
Dark eyes met mine. “Only a few minutes. Reaction to the blood loss, I think.” He used a folded square of linen to dry my throat. “How are you feeling?”
I moved my injured shoulder, which felt vaguely sore but otherwise normal. “Much better. Tell me you did not signal my husband.”
“I did not signal your husband.” He lifted me into a sitting position, and I slapped a hand against the drape to keep it from falling away from my breasts. That was when I realized what else he had removed.
I looked around the table. “Where are my blades?”
“I put them and the harness in the sanitizer.” He brought me a scrub tunic. “They were covered in blood. So were your pulse pistols, but I cannot clean those with this equipment.”
“I will hand clean them later.” I held the drape in place as I awkwardly worked the scrub top over my head. “What about the patient?”
The Skartesh removed the stained linens from the table. “He is resting comfortably.”
I eyed him. “How did you manage that?”
“I infused him with karokain to neutralize the existing chemicals in his bloodstream.” Jylyj helped me work my arms into the sleeves. “It seems prior to his accident, he was taking neuromuscular stimulants.”
“He has Satala Varena Syndrome.” Jorenians suffered from few diseases, but very active males in midlife sometimes developed a dysfunction of the nervous system that caused progressive deterioration of the muscles. “One of the drugs used to treat it is made from the primary counteragent for neuroparalyzer. Have you—”
“I have him on an oxygen feed and will keep him under close monitor,” Jylyj said, answering my question before I could finish asking it. He rested one of his paws on my shoulder to steady me. “If his lungs begin to fail, we will intubate.”
Being alone with the resident and the way he kept touching me made me feel uncomfortable, and I swung my legs over the side of the table. “He will need to resume his medication for the Satala as soon as possible.”
“I have scheduled the appropriate dosage to be administered as soon as he stabilizes. Let me help you.” He put his arm around my waist as I moved off the table, and frowned down at me. “I see some blood in your hair.” He used his claws to move aside some tangles. “Did you hit your head?”
“I don’t think so.” This close to the resident, I could smell his scent, which was as warm and soft as his fur. There was something about it that reminded me of the pungent herbs Reever sometimes used when he prepared food. I reached up to touch my scalp and feel for a wound.
“No.” Jylyj caught my fingers and held them. “There is nothing there.” He bent his head, bringing it closer to mine, and his breath touched my cheek. “The blood must have come from the shoulder wound.”
I went still as I felt him stroking his claws through my hair. “Jylyj, I will brush out my hair after I cleanse.”
He made a vague affirmative sound as he brought a length of my hair to his nose and breathed in. The paw he held against my abdomen spread and pressed against me.
“Doctor.” I made my tone sharp and clear. “I’m fine now. I think we should go and complete rounds.”
Jylyj raised his head to look into my eyes, and his teeth flashed. For a moment I thought he might try to bite me, until he removed his paws and stepped back.
“Yes. Of course.” He turned away, his back muscles rigid. “I will join you after I finish cleaning up in here.”
I left the procedure room and went to the post-op patient who had hit me. The nurse taking his vitals gave me a concerned look.
“Healer Jarn, are you well? We were worried—”
“I’m fine.” I scanned the patient, but the readings only confirmed everything Jylyj had told me. If anything, the patient’s condition had improved dramatically.
I didn’t know what to think about what had happened between me and the resident in the procedure room. It reminded me too much of the time I had been abducted by PyrsVar on Vtaga. After taking me to his desert hide-out, the alterformed Jorenian had made plain his intention to force me to become his mate.
What Jylyj had done was far more disturbing. He had behaved almost as if he didn’t realize what he had been doing—or couldn’t stop himself. Even more bewildering were my feelings of confusion and guilt. Had I done something to make him believe I would welcome such attentions from him?
PyrsVar had frightened me, but I had fought back and freed myself before he could force himself on me. I didn’t know what to do about the resident. Reever and I shared the same passion for each other, so I welcomed his touch. Aside from dealing with PyrsVar’s lust, I had no other experience with aroused males.
An Iisleg male could make use of almost any woman. The only reason I had not been used was because I had been taken in by the skela. Forbidden by tribal law to touch the living, the dead handlers were never used by the men of the tribes.
To my knowledge, hardly any ensleg males were permitted to freely make use of their females. According to Reever, Terran females had to give their consent before a male could couple with them, and some required marriage first. Jorenian customs were even stricter than that; they were obliged to pledge their lifelong loyalty and fidelity to one female before they were permitted to couple for the first time in their lives.
Jylyj had not behaved like any other ensleg male I had met since living on Akkabarr. Still, after serving on Joren for so long, he had to know that he could not help himself to any female he desired. From what Darea had told me, rape was one of the rarest and most despised crimes on Joren. Males found forcing a wo
man to couple were not even given a hearing—they were immediately disemboweled.
I felt a sudden, compelling desire to get as far away from Jylyj as I could. “Who is the on-call healer for this shift?” I asked the nurse.
She checked her datapad. “It is Healer Atovea.”
“Signal him and have him report to finish rounds with Resident Jylyj.” I handed her the chart and walked quickly off the ward.
Once I returned to my quarters, I secured the door panel and stripped out of my garments. Reever could read my thoughts as easily as a display screen, and if I kept dwelling on the incident he would eventually discover what had happened. Whatever the resident had or had not meant to do to me, I had to stop thinking about it.
I spent the next hour in the cleanser, washing the blood out of my hair and Jylyj out of my thoughts.
Seven
The day of our departure from Joren arrived, and at dawn Reever and I reported to Torin Main Transport. We had kept Marel up late the night before, saving our farewells for when she went to sleep, and did not wake her to accompany us to the ship. After I told him about the nightmares she had been having, Reever thought it better that she not be there to see the ship launch.
“I know we have to do this, but I still feel as if I’m betraying her by leaving,” I confessed as we walked to the lift to board the Sunlace. “Her dreams have convinced her that I won’t return this time.”
“This is not the first time she has had such dreams,” Reever said. “For years after the Jado Massacre, she would wake in the night, crying and calling out your name. The nightmares didn’t stop until I found you on Akkabarr.”
We handed over our cases to the cargo master and entered the boarding lift. Reever held the gate open for a porter carrying a tall stack of slat-sided containers. The Jorenian thanked my husband, grimacing because he could not use his hands to make the usual polite gestures, and braced himself against the back of the lift.
I eyed the stack, which wobbled as the lift jerked into motion. I saw some t’vessna petals sticking through the slats, and Marel’s voice rang in my ears.
In my dreams you’re wearing your blades under your tunic, and there is a little purple flower in your hair. You hug me and kiss me good-bye, and then I never see you again.
I swallowed against my dry throat. “Duncan, why are they loading plants onto the ship?”
“The Jorenians prefer their native foods over synthetics, so the Torin bring a select amount of edibles on board the ship,” Reever said. “On long sojourns, they even grow them.”
I pointed. “They don’t eat those.”
“The t’vessna are kept in pots in the crew’s quarters and common areas to improve the quality of the air. They are also the symbolic flower of HouseClan Torin.” Reever looked up and moved quickly to catch the top container as it tipped over and fell from the stack. Some of the contents spilled out and were blown off the lift by the strong morning breeze.
“No,” the porter groaned. “That was all the t’vessna. There is no time to collect more.” He made an archaic gesture. “This is an ill omen for your journey.”
I glanced over the side to see the cascading shower of purple blossoms drift down on the head of the bewildered cargo master. “I’m afraid I cannot agree.”
At the entrance to the lower docking bay, a smiling duty officer gave us official permission to board the Sunlace . Reever helped the porter with his burden, and then turned to say something to me.
When he only gave me an odd look, I asked, “What is it? Did you forget something important?”
“Yes.” He pulled me into his arms and tilted my head up, burying his hands in my hair as he kissed me soundly.
“Oh.” I grinned. “That was quite important.”
He slipped one hand into his tunic pocket. “I am meeting Qonja at the survey lab to recheck the storage units. Why don’t you come with me?”
“I should look in on medical first.” I saw the concern in his eyes and lowered my voice. “I know you’re worried, and the first hours apart from her are always the most difficult for me. But I won’t change my mind or jump off the ship. I promise.”
“Good.” He bent to kiss me again, this time on my brow. “Signal if you need me.”
Squilyp had personally supervised preparing the medical bay for the sojourn, and left it in such a state of pristine perfection that I had nothing to do until the rest of the medical staff arrived. I went next to the quarters assigned to me and Reever and unpacked our cases, but that didn’t take very long, as neither of us carried much in the way of possessions.
I did set a framed image of our daughter on the table beside our sleeping platform, and spent a moment examining her sweet face.
“As soon as we come back,” I told the picture, “we are going to make a home for the three of us. You, me, and Daddy.”
Reever and I had left the pavilion without bothering with a meal. I still had no appetite, but to stay busy I prepared a light meal for the men, packed it up in some food containers, and carried it down to the survey lab.
I entered the lab’s open door panel and looked around. Nalek had installed a massive amount of equipment, most of which I didn’t recognize. I saw my husband and Qonja standing inside a large, seven-sided plas chamber built in one corner; Reever appeared to be mounting a very large specimen container on a console of some sort.
“Duncan? I’ve brought you two some food.” Then I saw the glittering dark column inside the specimen container, and quickly put down the containers. “Why do you have that black crystal in there?”
“It’s the specimen we collected from the impact crater on Trellus. We need to study it, and use it for comparison with any new deposits we might find.” Reever came out of the chamber through a narrow gap between the plas panels, and after Qonja did the same, a shimmering wall of energy filled the aperture. “We have already discovered some of its properties. The crystal may look solid, but according to our scans it is actually part solid, part plasmoid, and part liquid. There is also a fourth, as yet unclassified, form of matter in the crystal’s core.”
“How can it be all those things and still look like a shiny rock?” I asked.
“For some matter, existence in a variety of states is possible,” he told me. “Water becomes a gas at temperatures above one hundred degrees Celsius, a liquid between zero and one hundred degrees Celsius, and a solid below zero degrees Celsius. If you drop ice into a server of steaming-hot water, you can observe it in all three states.”
I eyed the lethal mineral. “That is not made of water.” “No. While gases, liquids, and solids are the three most common states, there are several others that we have classified, and another hundred or so that have been proven theoretically possible. Matter in dimensional shift, for example, is temporarily converted into a trimorphous solid by the phased energy that moves it from one reality to another.” He nodded toward the chamber. “I believe a similar factor is affecting the crystal’s physical state.”
I didn’t care what it was doing; I wanted it off the ship. “What if it gets out of there?”
My husband shook his head. “Drefan provided the container. It’s made of etched crystal, and once sealed it cannot be reopened.”
I realized I was staring at the crystal and quickly averted my gaze. “You are putting a great deal of faith in a container, Duncan. That crystal is lethal. Even looking at the light it reflects can be dangerous. You can’t keep it out in the open.”
“The container’s shielding prevents any light refraction,” Qonja told me, “and if it should fail, the drone response system Nalek Kalea installed will immediately engage. The dimensional grating responds to any spatial distribution of matter.”
I turned to my husband. “Explain this in words I can understand.”
“The chamber is under constant monitor by a failsafe program. If the crystal’s container breaks or is opened, the failsafe takes immediate action to remove it from the ship.” He gestured to various parts
of the chamber as he spoke. “A probe programmed to fly into the nearest star will enclose the crystal and its container as soon as the breach is detected. The probe will then be ejected from the ship through the chamber’s airlock.”
“We hardly know anything about the crystal or its properties, except that it controls, maims, and kills any living being that comes in contact with it,” I reminded him. “What if something goes wrong with your failsafe and the crystal contaminates the ship? How can we protect the crew?”
“Nalek designed this chamber with a buffer modified to remain in perpetual energy shift,” Reever told me. “It will remain engaged for the entire sojourn. Even if the failsafe measures don’t work, the crystal cannot escape the chamber.”
I still didn’t like having it on board. “As soon as we’re finished with the survey, I want that specimen dropped into the nearest star.”
“I have no desire to begin a collection,” my husband assured me as he removed a disk from his tunic pocket and turned away from me. At the same time, something fluttered to the floor, and I bent down to retrieve it.
As I straightened, I closed my hand over it and said, “I have to report to medical. Excuse me.”
Only when I was outside in the corridor did I open my hand and stare at what had fallen out of Reever’s pocket. It had been crushed by a strong hand, but I recognized it. Several containers of the same had fallen from the lift that morning, just before my husband had taken me in his arms and kissed me.
I remembered the odd look, the feel of his hands in my hair as he kissed me, and went to the nearest disposal unit.
In my dreams you’re wearing your blades under your tunic, and there is a little purple flower in your hair.
I dropped the mashed thing in the intake receptacle and switched it on.
You hug me and kiss me good-bye, and then I never see you again.
Once the disposal had reduced the remains of the t’vessna flower to an organic mush, I vented the unit’s contents into space.
An hour later, when the entire crew had reported for duty, I held a brief meeting in medical to introduce myself and become acquainted with my new staff. Squilyp had given me a full complement of experienced nurses, three interns, and an orthopedic resident in her second year. Jylyj, however, was the most experienced physician on staff, and with some misgivings I designated him as the Supervising Healer, which gave him the right to act as Senior Healer whenever I was off duty or not on board the ship.