Crystal Healer

by Viehl, S. L.

  “We may have to intubate him soon,” she said, showing me the latest scans.

  I gave the blood samples to one of the orderlies and sent him to launch bay before I went in to assess Shon. He was unconscious, his breathing labored. My readings showed that the crystal growing in his throat now threatened to obstruct his airway, and I snapped out orders for the nurses to prep him for surgery.

  “We’ll start by clearing the crystal out of his throat and lungs,” I told Herea as we scrubbed. “I also want to take a look at his heart while we have his chest open.” I remembered that crystal now covered most of his upper torso and swore. “I have to find a way to cut through that crystal.”

  “The lascalpel has no effect on it,” the intern reminded me, and frowned. “I have a bone saw in my field pack, but the blade is surgical-grade plasteel.”

  I thought for a moment and summoned a nurse. “Contact engineering and ask them if they have any copper and gold in their stores. If they do, have them bring thirty thousand grams of copper and ten thousand of gold to medical.”

  The nurse looked mystified, but hurried off to carry out my orders.

  “We can heat the copper and gold together in the lab’s flash kiln, and then use it to coat the saw blade,” I told Herea. “We should plate the other instruments we’ll need, as well.”

  “Won’t it take too long for the instruments to cool?” she asked.

  “Not if we immerse them in cryofluid immediately after we coat them.” I hurried to the lab to prepare the equipment.

  A puzzled engineer delivered the metals a short time later. “Healer, we normally do not receive such requests from medical. You do know that copper is poisonous.”

  “I know.” I grabbed the heavy containers from him and placed their contents in the flash kiln, setting it to melt and mix them together. Herea delivered the tray of hand instruments we needed for Shon’s surgery, and we went to work.

  “Healer,” a nurse said behind me. “Did you move Major Valtas?”

  “No, he’s in isolation room three.” I saw her expression. “Was he taken into the surgical suite?”

  “I went to finish prepping him, but his berth is empty.” She made a nervous gesture. “No one saw him leave, but he is not anywhere on the bay.”

  “Keep working on the instruments,” I told Herea, and went in search of my patient. In his condition, Shon should not have gotten far, but I found no sign of him anywhere on the deck.

  My suspicions made me first signal the launch bay. “Major Valtas has gone missing from medical,” I told the duty officer. “Watch for him. He may come there and try to take a launch.”

  Instead of the duty officer, Xonea replied. “Major Valtas signaled a short time ago, just after we launched the drone ship. Duncan has gone to meet him on the observation deck.”

  I felt like slamming my head into the wall panel. “Xonea, I don’t know what Shon is doing, but I have to get him into surgery. Send a security team to meet me there.”

  I took a lift down to the lowest level of the ship. The plas walls of the observation deck allowed a breathtaking view of the space around the ship, and as I stepped off the deck I wondered why Shon would come here of all places. I found him standing beside Reever as if they had nothing better to do than watch the drone-piloted launch luring the raiders away from Trellus.

  “Are you mad?” I demanded.

  “He can’t hear you,” Reever said. “The crystal has deafened him.” He touched Shon’s shoulder, and the oKiaf turned to look at me. The crystal had nearly covered his mouth, but he was able to wheeze out my name.

  “I don’t need him to hear or talk to me,” I said. “I’m taking him back to medical.”

  Shon shook his head, and pointed toward the panel. I saw one of the Sunlace’s launches slowly flying away from the ship, and all of the raider vessels in a tight cluster pursuing it. As I watched, something emerged from the surface of a nearby moon and flew on an intercept course for the launch.

  I heard the low, resonant humming again, only this time it was coming from Shon’s body. The oKiaf sagged but kept himself from falling by clutching the frame of the panel. At the same time Reever’s face twisted with pain and he pressed his hands to the sides of his head.

  The hum blanked out my thoughts, and I moved toward them like a nightwalker, no longer in control of my body. My husband was not using a link to do this; I felt something else—a warm and gentle presence that wrapped around me and spread through me.

  I couldn’t free myself, and so I watched with the men as the ship that had launched from the moon picked up speed. As it drew closer, I saw that it wasn’t a proper vessel but an enormous transparent bubble filled with an equally gigantic worm.

  Swap.

  Perhaps it was the distortion of the space between us, but the worm appeared much larger than he had on Trellus. When it drew near the launch and the raiders, the bubble expanded around the worm and came to a stop directly in front of the Odnallak ships. Then it charged the raider fleet.

  One by one the ships tried to evade Swap’s strange vessel, but the bubble sent out transparent pseudopods and pulled them into itself. As each ship was taken into the bubble, Swap began enveloping them, until he had completely devoured the raiders.

  “I have them now, Jarn,” Reever said in Swap’s voice. “I regret I could not intervene sooner, but I had to acquire enough energy to move into the next stage before I attempted this. You will help Mercy and the others on Trellus? They have many wounded.”

  Yes. We will go down to the surface as soon as we return. I couldn’t answer with my mouth, so I used my thoughts. Swap, you can’t hold those ships forever.

  “Ah, I see my friend Duncan did not actually put the oKiaf on the launch. Very clever—that even fooled me.” One of bubble’s pseudopods stretched out impossibly long, caught the launch, and brought it back to join the others. “This will help finish it. I would stay and talk with you, Doctor, but my mind is already fading.”

  Suddenly I understood what was happening to Swap. You’re evolving.

  “Unfortunately so. I could not hold it off forever, Jarn. The crystal has been calling me for centuries, but now . . . it will no longer wait.” Reever came to me and kissed my brow. “You are all very courageous beings. I know you will find the answers that I could not.”

  The bubble changed direction and began to pick up speed again. I was released from the telepathic control over my body, and rushed to the panel to press my hands against it.

  The Odnallak ships fired through the worm as they tried to shoot their way out of his mass. It had no effect on him, and as the bubble disappeared into the star’s corona, the launch exploded, destroying everything inside the bubble but the worm. As it began to turn yellow-green, the star’s gravitational pull drew it down to the fiery surface, where it vanished into the star.

  The second explosion sent a wave of light toward the Sunlace, and when it impacted the ship, I lost consciousness.

  I woke facedown on the deck, my nose and mouth bleeding. Painfully, I rose and looked over at Reever and Shon. Both of them lay unmoving on the deck.

  “Duncan.” I crawled over to him and shook him, but he didn’t respond. “Duncan, wake up.” He didn’t move, and when I checked his pulse, I found it dangerously slow. Shon was also barely alive.

  I dragged myself over to the com panel and signaled medical.

  A dazed nurse replied. “Healer, you are needed here. We have many wounded.”

  “There are two more on the observation deck,” I said, wiping the blood from my mouth on my sleeve. “Send some help down here.”

  Twenty

  I sent the nurses to attend to the rest of the wounded, and stationed myself between Reever’s and Shon’s berths. For hours I watched their vitals, administered synaptic stimulants at regular intervals, and performed every scan I could think of, but nothing changed. Both men remained locked in a deep, unchanging comatose state, their life signs barely registering.

&nb
sp; I even tried to reach Duncan through my mind, holding his hands and opening my thoughts as I always did when he forged a link with me. Whatever kept him comatose also prevented any telepathic connection; I felt as if I were slamming into an endless, immovable blank wall.

  Was his mind gone? Was there nothing left to wake up?

  Refusing to admit defeat, I began skimming through records of coma cases, looking for any treatment that might prove effective. What little I could glean from the database only made me feel sick. Few deep coma patients ever regained consciousness; most remained in the paralyzed, vegetative state until their organs shut down or life support was removed.

  The hours dragged, and time lost meaning. I accepted a server of tea from one of the nurses and held it until it turned cold between my hands. I watched my husband’s still face, silently praying to see a single muscle twitch or an eyelash move. He lay motionless but for his chest rising and falling in rhythm with the oxygen being forced into his lungs by the ventilator.

  “Jarn.”

  I looked up to see Xonea looming over me. “There has been no change yet.” Was that growl my voice? I cleared my throat. “Forgive me. It’s been a long night.”

  “You have been here for three nights and days.” Gently he removed the datapad from my hands. “I will send in a nurse to monitor Duncan and Shon. You must go and sleep now.”

  “I’m not tired.” I stood and adjusted the drip on Duncan’s IV. “How long until we reach Joren?”

  “Unless engineering can repair the damage to the transitional generators, it will be several weeks.” Strong hands turned me around. “I spoke to the nurses. There is nothing more you can do for them.”

  “They’re wrong. That is why they are nurses and I am the doctor.” I pushed him out of my way and went around to the other side of Duncan’s berth. “As soon as their vital signs improve, I’ll be able to administer stronger stimulants. That will rouse them and allow them to breathe on their own, so I can take them off the ventilators. I can’t do that if I’m sleeping, now, can I?”

  “I can have security remove you,” Xonea said.

  I picked up a suture laser and enabled it. “Then my nurses will have more work to do, because I am not leaving.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” Xonea rubbed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. Signal me if there is a change.”

  Xonea left. There were no changes. I tested each of the monitors to ensure that they were functioning, and then returned to my case studies. I finished reading all the records on humanoid coma cases and went on to read the reports on nonhumanoids. I read so much that my eyes began to itch and then burn.

  I switched off the terminal and rested my head against my hand. I needed some saline wash to refresh my eyes, and perhaps something to eat, if I could force my tight throat to swallow. I would get up in a minute and take care of it, I thought. I could rest my eyes for a moment.

  “Jarn.”

  I opened my eyes to see my husband watching me. “Duncan? You’re awake.” I stumbled to my feet and looked at his monitors, but they were all dark.

  “I’m here.” He rose from the berth, pulling the infus ers and IV port from his arms as he stood and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  “I can’t leave Shon.” I turned and nearly bumped into a dark-furred chest. “Oh, my God. You’re awake, too.”

  The oKiaf steadied me. “No, Jarn. Not yet.”

  I saw Shon’s still body on the berth behind him and turned to Duncan, who stood next to his own. “There can’t be two of you. I must be dreaming.”

  “No.” Duncan took my hand and interlaced our fingers as the medical bay vanished, leaving us to stand in an open field surrounded by white mist. “You’re awake.”

  The tall grass around us appeared to be frozen, until I saw that the delicate blades were covered with frost. “Has the weather changed on Joren?”

  “Everything changes.” The fur of Shon’s paw brushed the back of my hand as he looked at Reever. “Do you understand what has to be done?”

  My husband nodded and turned his head. “Better than he did.”

  My joy faded as I saw another man standing off in the distance. “Why is he here?”

  Joseph Grey Veil lifted his hand and then disappeared into the wall of mist surrounding the field.

  “He was the first,” Duncan said, as if that explained everything. “You don’t have to be afraid of him, beloved. Or of me, or Shon.”

  “I’m not afraid.” I was perplexed, however. I knew I was supposed to be somewhere else, doing something else, but all that seemed important was being here. Then I felt something slip from my hair, and reached out my hand. A small purple flower landed on my palm and turned to crystal. “What does it mean?”

  “Everything. Nothing.” Shon took my hand. “We have a little time left.”

  Duncan nodded and twined his fingers through mine. “Time enough for a walk.”

  I felt like laughing and crying, but I was too relieved to be with them to do anything more than walk. The frost-covered grasses parted before us, offering a wide path of amber soil etched with scrolls of salt.

  “When the universe was young, so were its people,” Shon said. “They thought like children, and so they behaved. The greatest darkness, born in the most innocent of hearts.”

  I saw the mist wall darkening around the edges of the field, and felt the air grow cold. “We fight the darkness. We have to.”

  “But we are wrong,” Duncan said.

  I stopped and pulled my hands free to wrap my arms around my waist. “I’m cold.”

  “You were born on the ice,” Shon reminded me. “Do you remember why?”

  “No.” Suddenly, deeply afraid, I turned to Reever. “I can’t remember. I don’t want to. Please don’t make me.”

  “I am with you, Waenara.” He looked over my head at Shon. “Is there no other way? I love her.”

  “As do I,” the oKiaf said. “But there is only one path.” Shon gestured toward the blackened mist. “It is time to take it.”

  The men walked away from me and I tried to follow, but the icy grass wrapped around my legs, holding me in place. “Duncan. Shon. Don’t leave me. Please, I want to go with you.”

  My husband looked back and almost turned around, but Shon put his arm on his shoulders and urged him along.

  “Shon, please, no. I can’t lose you both.” I screamed that, and Duncan’s name, until the cold grass wrapped around my throat and choked off my voice.

  You must heal her. Heal her.

  I grabbed my head, pressing my hands against my ears to block out the sound of a million voices, all speaking in unison. I pitched over into the grass, shattering the stiff blades.

  You must heal her. Heal her. Heal her.

  Healer, please wake up.

  Healer, please.

  Healer.

  I tore myself out of the dream and into consciousness. I was back in the medical bay, sitting in the isolation room. I had fallen asleep at the console.

  A hum buzzed against my ears, and I turned my head to look at Reever’s berth, afraid of what I would see.

  A mound of Lok-Teel covered my husband’s body; the largest had completely engulfed his head. Each one bulged and flexed as if they were eating him.

  The Lok-Teel lived by consuming waste. If Duncan had died while I was asleep—

  I wrenched myself upright and lunged at the berth, grabbing and pulling away the mold as I shouted for the nurses.

  Jorenians filled the isolation room, and many hands helped me strip the Lok-Teel clinging to my husband’s body. Behind me I heard a similar commotion, and I looked back to see three nurses working on Shon, who, like Duncan, was covered with the mold.

  “Get them off quickly.” I struggled to free the one wrapped around Reever’s head, peeling it off his mouth and nose. As soon as I pulled it out of his hair, I flung it across the room and checked the ventilator junction, which had come apart from the tube in Reever’s throat. I heard breathing
sounds, however, and quickly removed the tube.

  “He’s breathing on his own.” All the monitor leads had been disconnected from his body, so I groped for a scanner and passed it over his chest. His vital signs were strong and stable. Why wasn’t he awake?

  “Duncan.” I put a hand on his cheek and stroked it. “Duncan, can you hear me? Open your eyes.”

  He did not respond to my voice, and I performed a cerebral scan. My readings made no sense; his brain wave activity had increased three hundred percent. Even using every synaptic connection in his head, Reever couldn’t register at these levels.

  I tossed aside the scanner and called for another as I checked his pupils, which dilated normally.

  I had never seen such levels of brain activity in any being. The only way I could think to disrupt it was to sedate him or subject him to a bioelectric pulse. Both might send him back into a coma.

  “Healer Jarn,” a nurse working on Shon called. “The oKiaf is conscious.”

  “Watch his monitors,” I told the nurse beside me, and went to the other berth, forcing a smile as I met Shon’s dark gaze. “That was some nap you took.”

  “I feel very rested,” he said, and sat up as if nothing were wrong with him. He raised his hands and turned them over. “The crystal is gone.”

  The scan I performed told me the same thing—not a trace of crystal remained in his blood, tissues, or bone. I glanced down to see the Lok-Teel that had been removed from his body creeping out of the room. They seemed much larger now, and moved sluggishly—as if they had eaten an enormous meal.

  Somehow they had done the impossible and removed the crystal that had been killing Shon. But what had they done to Reever?

  “You don’t have to worry about that funerary ritual anymore,” I told the oKiaf, and issued orders to run a comprehensive series of scans on him. Then I turned back to my husband. “Any change?”

  “No, Healer.” The nurse handed me a new scanner with a fresh set of readings. His brain wave activity remained at unimaginable levels. “Shon, if you feel well enough to get out of that berth—”