Endurance

by Richard Chizmar

  “Thanks.” I gently pulled the surgical shroud up over the peaceful face I’d worked so hard to repair.

  Adaola and the nurses intoned a solemn Jorenian chant of passage. I couldn’t seem to move away from the table. It was as if I expected FurreVa to yank aside the linen and shout at me for giving up.

  A warm membrane touched my arm. “You did everything you could for her,” the Omorr said. “There was simply too much damage.”

  “Yeah.” I tugged my wet mask from my face. “There was.”

  Adaola paused in her chant to ask me, “What was her name, Healer?”

  I remembered how I’d called her Helen of Troy, and caught a sob before it emerged. “FurreVa. Overseer FurreVa.”

  Treating the injured prisoners kept me busy for the rest of the shift. My adopted family, while having no love for the Hsktskt, expressed their sincere sympathy for the loss of my friend.

  Squilyp let me work until there was nothing left to be done, then asked if I would do rounds with him in the morning.

  “Sure.” I had nothing to do, nowhere to go. “See you then.”

  “Cherijo.” I stopped at the door panel. “You told me never to … mess with you over a patient you just lost, but if you need someone to talk to—”

  I smiled wanly back at him. “You’ll be the one, Squil. Thanks.”

  I couldn’t face my empty quarters. Xonea had signaled from the helm that the last of the launches from Catopsa were arriving, so I decided to go down to the launch bay and see what I could do there.

  The final shuttle hull doors parted, and the Jorenian team brought two men out. Both were in envirosuits, but their hands had been secured in detainment bonds. I started to ask why, then one of the crew removed their helmets and I saw who they were.

  Gael Kelly and Noarr.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked one of the Torins. “Why are they tied up like that?”

  “We discovered them fighting near an alien vessel.”

  “Blue-arsed mentallers! If you’ll not give me a weapon, for pity’s sake, shoot this sleeven before he gets loose.” The Irishman strained at his bonds, then fixed his gaze on me with relief. “Dote, tell ‘em to stop acting the maggot!”

  A security guard glanced at me. “Our vocollars are not translating what he says, Healer.”

  “I know. Gael, you have to speak stanTerran, please.”

  “This gouger—this collaborator—tried to kill me, dote. I told you, he’s been spying for the beasts, and I’ve got proof.”

  I glanced at Noarr, who stood in his usual brooding, silent stance. “Is that right?” I motioned for their bonds to be released. “Is what he’s saying true, Noarr?” Not that I believed it.

  “Part of it.” The alien slave-runner rubbed the joints above his flippers slowly. “I tried to kill him.”

  My eyes widened. “Why?”

  “He was attempting to remove prisoners from Catopsa.”

  “That’s sort of the general idea, at the moment.”

  “He did not intend to bring them here.” Noarr pulled off his hood and turned to Gael, who was visibly seething. “Will you tell her now, or shall I?”

  “I will in me ring,” the Terran said, and spat on the deck.

  “I think that means no,” I said to the confused Jorenians. “Gael?”

  “His name is not Gael.” Noarr folded his arms inside his cloak and regarded the Terran with an expression akin to pity. “It is GaaVar.”

  “Aye, right.” The Irishman let out a sputtering laugh. “You’re addled, that’s what you are, sleeven.” He continued in stanTerran. “I was born in Clare, in the Celt Republic, on Terra. Check the database, if you like.”

  “I am sure you were.” Noarr pulled his cloak around him. “Your family took you from Terra to immigrate to a new colony. When you were a young child, did they not?”

  “I’ve told you all this, dote,” Gael said to me.

  Noarr stepped closer to the Terran. “How old were you when the Hsktskt attacked your ship?”

  “I was but a wee lad.”

  “You were an infant. The Hsktskt do not take children hostage. Why did you survive?”

  Gael exploded. “I don’t know what the gammy thicks wanted with me! They took me!”

  “And adopted you, the same way they adopted me.” Noarr turned and gazed at me. “He was raised by the Hsktskt from infancy. By Lord SrrokVar.”

  Before anyone could move, Gael pulled a Hsktskt pistol from the inside of his tunic and lunged in my direction. A moment later, he had me in an armlock, and the business end of the weapon pressed tightly against my cheek.

  “Don’t do this, Gael.” I looked at the Jorenians, who had formed a deadly ring around us. White eyes narrowed, claws emerged. “They’ll kill you.”

  He pointed the gun at Noarr. “In the shuttle. Now. Or this scanger bitch dies.”

  I warned the Jorenians to stay back as we entered the shuttle and Gael shoved Noarr toward the helm.

  “Fly this gammy crate out of here.”

  “They’ll come after us.” Gael’s shove made me fall against the harness rigging. I clutched it to regain my footing. “You don’t have to slave for the Hsktskt anymore. Give yourself up, and I’ll help you get back to Terra.”

  “Terra?” He laughed. “You’re off your nut.”

  “I think you can drop the dialect now,” I said as he tied me into the harness.

  “It took me years to learn. Still, you’re right. I don’t need it anymore, do I?”

  “Not anymore,” I agreed.

  Gael watched Noarr pilot the shuttle out from the launch bay. “Input these into the navigation array,” he said, and rattled off some coordinates.

  The slave-runner hesitated. “That will take us directly to the Hsktskt homeworld.”

  “My homeworld,” Gael said.

  “No, it isn’t,” I said.

  He turned to me. “He was telling you the truth, Doctor. I was captured by the Faction when I was six months old. Lord SrrokVar adopted me, raised me, trained me. You’re the first Terran I’ve ever seen in my life.” He spat at my feet. “And the last, I hope.”

  “You were the spy all along,” I said slowly.

  “And you are supposed to be so bright. Yes, I provided inside intelligence on the slave population to my parent.” He fingered the pistol in his hand. “I’m relieved it’s over. Warm-bloods are disgusting, sniveling creatures.”

  “You’re warm-blooded, too.”

  “I am the son of a Hsktskt Lord.” Gael gave me an eerie smile, one that reminded me of SrrokVar. “He taught me well.”

  “I’ll bet he did.” I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye and blinked. “So you’re going to take us back to the homeworld, and … what? Sell us as slaves?”

  “For the crimes you committed against the Faction?” Gael laughed. “I’m going to have you tortured, then publicly executed.”

  Lieutenant Wonlee emerged from a cargo hatch behind Gael, and I kept my gaze fixed on the Hsktskt spy. “I know what SrrokVar must have done to you as a child. Let me help you, Gael.”

  “I wouldn’t—”

  Wonlee jumped on Gael’s back, knocking the pistol to the deck and sending the Terran into an interior hull panel. Noarr immediately steered the ship around, sending both men to the deck, while I fumbled with the clips on my harness.

  It was over so quickly that Gael was bleeding and tied up by the time the launch landed back on the Sunlace. An angry Xonea entered the shuttle, carrying one of his multibladed weapons, and dragged the Terran out onto the deck. I hurried after them.

  “Don’t hurt him, it’s not his fault—”

  Before I could stop him, Gael got to his feet. “For my father!” he screamed, then thrust himself upon the eight blades in Xonea’s hands.

  Noarr and I rushed over, but the Irishman was already dead.

  “He chose his path well,” Xonea said, and wiped the blood from his blades on Gael’s tunic.

  “He h
id behind the mask of his own face,” I said, kneeling beside him and closing his eyes. What kind of father had SrrokVar been? I wondered, then shuddered instinctively. “And was probably abused most of his life.”

  “Not everyone who is abused chooses to betray,” Noarr said.

  “You should know.” I got to my feet and faced him. “You can take that mask off your face now.”

  The Jorenians made sounds of astonishment as Noarr stripped off his flippers, then inserted his thumbs under a concealed flap, and slowly peeled away the false face. When he revealed his features to the crew, several of them appeared to be staggered by his true identity.

  I folded my arms, eyed my adopted family, then shook my head sadly. “Don’t tell me he had all of you fooled.”

  The mask, to my own surprise, turned out to be a Lok-Teel. It rapidly changed from Noarr’s face to its natural blob state and happily trundled over to clean Gael’s blood from the deck.

  “When did you know?” the man I loved asked me.

  “I don’t think you want me to describe what we were doing when I figured it out.” I lowered my voice for his ears alone. “Using a voice manipulator and not kissing me were clever moves, but you forgot, I’m very familiar with the rest of your anatomy, too.”

  His mouth twitched. “I see.”

  “I also thought it was odd when you boarded Noarr’s ship, and yet still knew where everything was.” I clucked my tongue. “Sloppy. Very sloppy.”

  Duncan Reever removed the concealing cloak and shook out his damp hair. “Yet you never confronted me with your knowledge.”

  “I knew it was you,” I said. “But what I didn’t understand was why you didn’t trust me enough to tell me yourself.”

  “That requires a rather lengthy explanation.”

  “We’ve got plenty of time.” I took his arm. “Come with me.”

  After the tragic scene with Gael, neither of us was hungry, so I settled for servers of hot Jorenian tea and the privacy of my quarters.

  “Okay,” I said as I sat beside him on the sofa. “Spill the beans. All the beans this time, if you please.”

  Reever told me what I had only guessed at—that he had been a slave to the Hsktskt, after they raided the world his parents had been studying. Both his mother and father were killed in the massacre. The adolescent Duncan had been tall and strong enough to pass for a mature adult, so he was taken along with other survivors to Catopsa.

  “I was compelled to serve as an arena fighter for nearly a revolution, before the accident. An OverMaster pushed his young commander into the ring, and my opponent tried to kill him. I shielded him and saved his life.”

  “That would explain the blood-bond between you and TssVar.”

  “Yes. He was grateful enough to adopt me, and trained me to take the place of the OverMaster who had attempted to kill him.”

  “That’s why you said Gael had been adopted, like you.”

  “Yes. As SrrokVar made Gael his son, TssVar made me his brother.” Reever rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “What he didn’t know was I had no intention of ever serving the Faction, even when he sent me to infiltrate the Pmoc Quadrant colonies.”

  “You spied for them?” With a jolt I recalled the delivery of the quints. “You brought TssVar to K-2?”

  “I had been sending false reports back to the Faction, making them believe the colonies were too poor to merit raiding. However, TssVar decided to recall me to Catopsa. On the jaunt to retrieve me, UgessVa went into labor, and the rest you know.”

  “Why did you come onboard the Sunlace?”

  “I wanted to escape the Hsktskt, as much as you wanted to escape the League.”

  There was one thing that still bothered me. “You told me you signaled the Hsktskt to come to Varallan. If you were trying to avoid them, why would you do that?”

  “It seemed the only way I could protect you, and stop the League from destroying Joren. I didn’t betray you, Cherijo.”

  “So you signaled them and played traitor again. And as soon as we reached Catopsa, you became Noarr, the slave-runner.”

  “Yes.” Reever picked up the Lok-teel, which had followed us from the launch bay. “I realized what I could do the first time I established a telepathic link with these creatures. I used them to disguise the slaves before I took them from the compound.”

  Reever went on to describe the secret nature of the fungus. From what he said, they could also merge together and use their united bulk to assume the shape of a larger object, like a console or storage container. As Noarr, he had often smuggled prisoners out of the compound right under the snouts of the Hsktskt, in what they assumed were nonorganic waste receptacles.

  “We’ll debate your methods, and your penchant for camouflage later.” Jenner jumped up between us, and chose Reever’s lap to curl up in. The ingrate. “Where do we go from here?”

  “I’ve dreamed of liberating Catopsa for many years. Now that it is realized, I have nothing more planned.” He stared at the viewport. “The prisoners will want to return to their homeworlds and be reunited with their families.”

  “Nothing planned?” He didn’t get it, and I smiled. “Tell you what. I have an idea.” I filled him in about the drone vessel Joseph had sent out into deep space for me. “We can use that.”

  “We?”

  “You’re going to need a ship’s doctor, aren’t you?”

  Troubled eyes met mine. “Only if she comes as my bondmate.”

  “No problem.” I fumbled in the pocket of my tunic, and pulled out the ring I had thrown across the interrogation chamber onboard the Perpetua, all those months ago. He gave me an amazed stare when I placed it in his hand, and I scowled. “Okay, so I’m sentimental. Problem solved.”

  I got up and went to the console to signal Xonea with the details of our plan, and the coordinates of the drone ship. By my reckoning, it would take a few weeks to get there, so Reever and I would have plenty of time to work out the rest of our unconventional relationship.

  “Cherijo.”

  I paused at the control pad.

  “The League and the Hsktskt are going to war. It will be dangerous.”

  I snorted. “At least.”

  “We will be chased by mercenaries, out for the bounty the League still offers for you.”

  “We’ve been chased by mercenaries before. I wasn’t impressed. Anything else?”

  “Yes.” He came up behind me, turned me around. His ring slid over the fourth finger on my left hand. “Squilyp told me you have a medical issue that must be treated immediately. Space travel may interfere with that.”

  “Did he tell you what it was?” If that Omorr had ruined everything, I was going to strangle him.

  “No.”

  “Good. He’s right, I do. But space travel won’t be a problem. Eating will. I expect I’ll have some problems keeping food down. Then there’s all that nasty fluid retention—”

  “Is it your stomach?” Duncan went pale. “You never eat properly. Is it serious?” He was so upset he didn’t wait for me to answer. “You will do exactly as the Omorr tells you, Cherijo.”

  “As long as I agree with him, sure.”

  “You will agree with him.” My bondmate’s face darkened. “If I learn you have done otherwise—”

  “Oh, settle down.” I grinned. “It’s not that big a deal.”

  “Do not make attempts at humor. Not about your health.” One of his scarred hands cupped my face. “After everything we have been through, I refuse to lose you now.”

  “You won’t lose me.” I took pity on him and pressed a kiss into his palm. “You may even enjoy this”—I guided his hand down and placed it flat against my abdomen—“Daddy.”

  The Stardoc

  Novels

  by

  S.L. Viehl

  REBEL ICE

  STARDOC

  BEYOND VARALLAN

  SHOCKBALL

  ETERNITY ROW

  ENDURANCE

  Available wherever
books are sold or at

  penguin.com