Endurance

by Richard Chizmar

  “What did you see?”

  For the first time Shropana seemed to focus on my face, then his expression turned cunning. “You know. You help him. You’ve always helped them, you bitch.”

  “I need to speak with you, Doctor.”

  I turned to see Reever standing beside the partition. He’d want to lecture me about Gael, no doubt. “Not now.”

  “It is important.”

  I adjusted a monitor that didn’t need adjusting. “So is my patient.” When he touched me, I stood up and glided away. “Okay.” I stepped around the partition and folded my arms. “You’ve got a minute. Start talking.”

  “FurreVa reported she discovered you concealing two escaped prisoners.” Reever removed a data pad from his tunic pocket and switched it to display. “The Terran Kelly and an unidentified humanoid male.”

  “So?”

  “As a member of the Faction, you—”

  “—aren’t allowed to harbor runaway slaves, I know. So?”

  He didn’t prepare me for the next bombshell. He simply dropped it. “Lord SrrokVar has filed a protest against OverLord TssVar’s decision to recognize our union, and a request to have it terminated.”

  I controlled my expression. Barely. “How do you terminate a Hsktskt marriage? Does someone kill you?”

  “No.”

  “Pity.”

  “The SubHanar has granted SrrokVar permission to continue conducting his research involving Terrans, specifically on you.”

  “Has he?” I resisted the urge to collapse on the nearest berth. “When do I report for torture?”

  “He cannot conduct his research if you are pregnant.”

  It didn’t take ten seconds for that to sink in. “Oh, no. No.”

  He inclined his head politely. “Then you must falsify your medical records. I would suggest having your resident sign off on the positive pregnancy scan, to avoid difficulty in convincing the Lord you are actually carrying my child.”

  Suspicion settled over me. He was being nice. Too nice. “Why would you encourage me to deceive the Hsktskt when you could force me to do something much more fun for you personally?”

  “We will discuss that at length another time.” He handed me the data pad. “A large group of prisoners in tier nine have been reported to be suffering from an outbreak of a new disease. I am ordering them to be kept sequestered in their chambers until you can verify that the pathogen infecting them is not contagious.”

  “That’s smart.” I studied the guard’s report. “Looks like it could be some kind of food poisoning. I’ll have to go and examine the victims.” I grabbed my medical case and headed for the door panel.

  I learned from the guard that the latest batch of new arrivals occupied tier nine, and that Paul Dalton and Geef Skrople were among the infected prisoners. Friends in trouble again, as they’d been on K-2. What could be causing it this time?

  I located Paul and Geef in the prisoner commons, with about two hundred other males who had been captured in the border territories. I knelt down beside Paul, listened to his broken moans, and studied the speckled condition of his face.

  He looked awful. On death’s doorstep. And it was all I could do to swallow my laughter.

  “Nice job.” I pulled out my scanner, and reached a hand toward his artificially flushed brow. “Whose bright idea was this?”

  “Mine,” he whispered, and lolled his head to one side in an excellent imitation of fever-induced delirium. “Don’t touch, Doc. The stuff we used for the fake rash rubs off.”

  I nodded toward the other spotty, moaning prisoners. “The rest of them, too?”

  “Yeah. Pretty smart, huh?”

  “Pretty reckless.” I played worried doctor and performed a completely unnecessary examination. “So why the performance?”

  “We needed to get you out of that infirmary so we could talk. Met a friend of yours as soon as we were brought over here.” Paul moved his eyes to the left, and I looked down to see Wonlee lying in a state of counterfeit delirium. “He’s going to rally the rest of the prisoners to help us.”

  “And in the meantime?”

  “Geef and I need to get to the surface. That’s why we thought we’d fake the contagion. Can you get us out of this tier and into the main complex? We can take it from there.”

  I’d have to get TssVar to agree to set up some kind of quarantine ward. “I think so.”

  One of the centurons appeared in the entrance to the commons, and I lunged to my feet. “Don’t come in here! These prisoners are highly contagious. I’m instituting an immediate level-one quarantine.”

  The centuron backed out and sealed the door panel at once.

  “I love it when they jump like that.” I turned back to Paul. “You’ll need help to get to the surface. But let’s get you out of here first.”

  It took a bunch of shouting and striding around looking frantic, but I convinced TssVar to move Paul and the other two hundred “contagious” new prisoners out of the slave tiers and into an unused cargo storage area. During the move, I released Won, who promptly went back to his own tier to start recruiting prisoners for the cause.

  I set up Zella to run the ward, after confiding what the real story was and threatening to dismember her—slowly—with a lascalpel if she breathed a word of it to anyone in a thermal uniform. Geef asked me to spread the word about the coming rescue forces, and I briefed prisoners I trusted from each tier as I made rounds of the entire compound to check for any other cases of the “contagion.”

  It was during these rounds that one of the prisoners on Gael Kelly’s tier informed me the Terran had been slated to be sold at auction. The same auction I was summoned to the next day.

  “Perform standard pre-trade inspections,” TssVar instructed me. “Pay particular attention to any members of the Isalth-io species. A trader complained he lost two of them a day out from Catopsa.”

  “Is that right?” I gave him my best puzzled look. “Gee, wonder what went wrong.”

  When I entered the holding area, I saw Gael among the prisoners, and went to him first.

  “Hey, pal.” I tugged him to the far side of the chamber, away from the guards. “Are you okay?”

  “Nawful, dote, but I’m not letting on, am I?”

  “No.” He was lean but otherwise healthy. There wasn’t much I could do, now that TssVar suspected about the two Isalth-ios, and it frustrated me. “I’ll make sure I record who you’re sold to, and once we’re liberated, I’ll do everything I can to recover you.”

  “Liberated?” Gael glanced around, then lowered his voice. “What’s this about now?”

  “Long story.” I took out my scanner and activated it. “Hold still, and let me at least look like I’m evaluating you.”

  “I hoofed about, looking for one of them grand tunnels, but no luck here.” Gael gnawed at his lower lip. “That rapid skin of yours, Noarr, could he help me to bolt outta here?”

  “I’m not even sure where I can find him.” I finished the scan and noted the results on the data pad. Then I saw the determined glint in his eye. “Don’t think about doing something stupid and getting yourself shot.”

  “If someone’s coming here to millie up, I’d like to be in on the ructions.” He smacked his closed fist into his other palm. “I’ve foostered longer on this rock than most of the knackers here. I’m gummin’ to lose the head.”

  He was right. “Okay, let me see if I can track Noarr down somehow. Just don’t start losing the head with the guards until I get back.”

  I used the excuse of the contagion to postpone the slave auction, leave the trade area, and return to the infirmary. The only quick way I could find Noarr was by using my friend Alunthri to track his scent through the tunnels, so I had the Chakacat brought to me on the pretense of screening it for the contagion.

  Alunthri acted suitably feral until the centurons departed, then dropped the wildcat pose at once. “What is wrong, Cherijo?”

  I took the small swatch of robe from
my tunic pocket—okay, I’d been saving it for stupid, sentimental reasons—and handed it to my friend. “I have to find this male. Can you track him down for me?”

  Alunthri sniffed the fabric, then the hard surface of the floor. “Most scent-paths have been eradicated by the Lok-Teel. I cannot track him in this manner.”

  Which meant we’d probably get lost in the tunnels, even if they were still passable. I thought for a moment. “What if you were able to smell the prisoners? He may be wearing a disguise when he works inside the compound, but he’d still smell the same. Would that work?”

  It would.

  “Are you sure your nose is working right?”

  We had spent a day going through the prisoner population, with no luck. If Noarr had been in the compound, Alunthri would have tracked him down. The only place it scented Noarr was in the infirmary, and outside SrroVar’s central chamber. Those recent scents hadn’t yet been eradicated by the ever-busy Lok-Teel, it told me, but they were still very faint.

  I’d taken the precaution of tallying up the prisoners we checked, and discovered the prison population matched the current statistics on the Hsktskt database. Which meant Noarr wasn’t currently posing as a slave, or there would be a one prisoner difference between the figures.

  Since I had no evidence that the fake contagion had spread, TssVar ordered the slave auction to continue and for me to get the inspections finished.

  I knew Gael was depressed by the news, but he simply thanked me for trying.

  “I can get in touch with your family on Terra, as soon as we’re out of here,” I offered. “At least they’ll know you’re still alive, until we can free you from whoever buys you.”

  “That’d be murder,” Gael said, and got an odd look on his face. “Ma and Da did a flit from Clare with the rest of the Kellys. Thick as ditches, they were, barreling from Terra to an agri-colony. New-Eire, they meant to call it. Planned to be culchies, raise sheep and crops, the dense bollocks.” He made a harsh sound. “Made a right hames of it. The thicks belted our ship, banjaxed it. Everyone died but me.”

  Blast my thoughtless tongue. “I’m sorry, Gael.”

  “They were plonkers, thinking they could scrap with the thicks.” He stared past me at the wall, then shook his head. “Sorry, dote. I’m being annoying, aren’t I?”

  “Be as annoying as you like.” I pressed my hand over his. “We’ll find a way to set you free, I promise.”

  Just before the auction began, I took my usual position behind one of the pillars so I could record who went where. That was where Noarr found me.

  A warm flipper descended on my shoulder. “Cherijo.”

  I nearly dropped my data pad and whirled around. “Noarr!” I lowered my voice to a murmur. “God, don’t do that, you scared me.” I peered into his hood. “Are you okay?”

  “I have been better.” He appraised the sight of the traders bidding for a pair of Cordobels for a moment. “I am told you need my assistance moving some prisoners off Catopsa.”

  “Yes. Paul Dalton and Geef Skrople have to get to the surface to signal the rescue forces.” I quickly explained the approaching invasion fleet and what the two engineers needed. “There’s also a Terran, Gael Kelly, the one we rescued from the crying chambers. We could use him to help move the prisoners out of the compound. But he’s up for auction today.”

  “I remember him.” Noarr’s humming voice grew harder. “You care for him.”

  “Yeah, I do.” This was all I needed. A jealous slave-runner on my hands. I lifted my scanner to check the injury I knew was on his side and his flipper caught my wrist. “Don’t be a baby, let me do a quick scan.”

  “I am fine.” He pushed my hand away. “Dalton and Skrople can be moved. Kelly I can do nothing for. There is no access to this area of the compound, and what tunnels I have in the proximity are completely blocked off by black growth.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t happy about abandoning Gael, but there was only so much we could do. “We’ll track him down after the liberation.”

  “Kelly will not be sold, I think.”

  “Why, because he’s a troublemaker?”

  “No one will offer for him. I must go now.” Noarr stepped back, but I reached and latched on to one sleeve. “There is more?”

  “Yeah, there is.” I slipped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest for a moment. “Thanks, Osepeke.”

  His flipper touched my hair. “Be careful, Waenara.”

  The only other good thing that happened that day was watching Gael Kelly stand on the platform, and seeing the instant looks of dislike pass over the faces of the assembled traders.

  Noarr’s prediction came true. No one offered a single credit for the Terran. Gael’s notorious reputation as a habitual escapee had actually saved him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Persuading the Pel

  We managed to keep up the facade of the contagion for another week without the Hsktskt becoming suspicious. Paul told me Noarr had contacted him to make the arrangements for the move to the surface as soon as he detected the Jorenian/Aksellan forces approaching Catopsa.

  “The Hsktskt will pick them up on their scanners, too.” I was worried this rescue attempt would end up starting another war. “How are you going to deal with that?”

  Paul gave me a mysterious smile. “We’ve figured out how to handle that, too. Don’t worry, Doc.”

  “‘Don’t worry, Doc.’ ‘We’ll handle it, Doc.’ Oh sure. Then it’s ‘Can you sew up this hole they blasted through my belly, Doc?”’ I snorted. “You’d better make sure you can handle it.”

  Gael Kelly came to see me in the infirmary toward the end of the week. He had been returned to his tier, and had managed to get into another fight with a guard. I sutured his gashed abdomen and lectured him on being more cautious, too.

  He was quiet—a little too quiet for my liking. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain somewhere else and not telling me?”

  “Doc, I heard … a bit of news.” He looked miserable. “You need to be wide about this. Dog wide.”

  I dressed the wound lightly and helped him back into his tunic. “I’ll be a bridge, if you like. Just tell me in stanTerran, Gael.”

  “Okay.” He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and eased off the exam table. “I’ve been listening in on the thicks’ gobbing, uh, conversations. Trying to learn if they know anything about the liberation plans.” He dropped his gaze. “I heard three of them talking about a meeting SrrokVar was having with a special prisoner on the tier.

  “I slipped down to the tier controller’s office and listened at the door panel. SrrokVar was talking to someone. He said pretending to help the knackers do a bunk from that feck hole of his was brilliant, and it was too bad the tunnels were mucked or they could keep using them to taking the knackers to the execution grounds.” Gael’s voice became very gentle. “Then I heard the sleeven say he would find another way to do it. It was that skin of yours. The tall one.”

  “No.” My throat dried up. “You’re wrong. He must have been talking to someone else. It’s not Noarr.”

  Gael looked at me then. “God forgive me, dote, but it was. I know his voice.” As I sat numbly down on the chair next to the exam table, the Terran pulled the partition closed and came to me. “I’m so sorry.”

  So Noarr had lied to me, and was working for the lizards. How could I have trusted him? Believed in him? “I’m an idiot. A complete, blind idiot.”

  “No.” Gael pressed a kiss on the top of my head. “You’re an amazing bird, you are.”

  I lifted my face and found Gael’s mouth on mine a second later. I froze, burning with humiliation and embarrassment. Because I felt sorry for him, I let him kiss me. It soothed my shattered nerves, but I felt nothing beyond that.

  Gael’s body pressed into mine. He was breathing hard, his heart pounding, his limbs trembling. His hands stroked up my back and moved around to caress my breasts. The ridge of his erection pressed
lightly against my stomach.

  “Slagging bastard. It’s mortifying, how he’s had you on.” He buried his mouth against my neck. “I won’t let him make a hash out of you, dote. Not ever again. I’ll look out for you.”

  I couldn’t do this, I thought, and carefully stepped away, out of his embrace. “I’m sorry, Gael.”

  Gael’s face reddened. “Even knowing what a caffler he is, you—”

  “No. This isn’t about Noarr.” I let my sorrow and sympathy show through. “I’m sorry.”

  “Right jibber, you are. Or a brasser. I can’t decide which.” The Terran strode out of the infirmary.

  I was voting for complete fool myself.

  Alunthri was waiting in Reever’s chamber when I went off shift. It took one look at my face and started preparing a server of tea for me.

  “Hey.” I peeled off my outer tunic and dropped onto a chair. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that.”

  “We’re both slaves now.” Alunthri calmly padded over and placed the server on the table before me. “Something has happened. Something that hurt you.”

  I took a sip and winced as the hot liquid scalded my tongue. “You’re psychic.”

  “I’m your friend. I know you.”

  Tears spilled down my face as I buried it in my arms and let go. I felt Alunthri’s palm stroking my back as I wept, and thanked whatever God or fate had brought one true friend into my life. Ultimately, I pulled myself together. “Sorry.”

  Alunthri mopped me up, made me more tea, and listened as I related what Gael had told me.

  “The worst part is, I swore I’d never trust anyone again. Then Noarr comes along, and seems like everything good and fine in a man, and crash, there go my walls.” I finished the tea and blew my nose. “It was as bad as that moment I saw you on the Perpetua, and knew Reever had kidnapped you from Garnot just as leverage against me.”

  Alunthri sat back in its chair and made an odd noise. “Cherijo, there is something you are not aware of. Reever did not kidnap me.”

  I put my server down and had to quickly right it before it fell over. “What are you talking about?”