“You do announce that thrust, Brenna. Decent feint, though. You’re fast.”
“Gracious of you to admit it, since I all but gutted ye.” Brenna managed a teasing imitation of Jess’s brogue, then looked past her, and lowered her staff.
A middle-aged woman in a white coat was making her way across the arena grounds toward them. She lifted a hand in greeting as she minced carefully over the uneven ground in her sensible heels.
“That’s Caster,” Brenna said, sotto voce. “Be respectful, Jess.”
“So this is Jesstin.” Smiling, the woman came up to Jess and rested a nicely manicured hand on her shoulder. Nearly as tall as Jess, Caster appraised her with keen clinical interest. “She’s looking well, Brenna. You’re doing a fine job preparing her for her trials.”
“Thank you, Caster.” Brenna adopted a tone that was a shade more formal than usual. “Yeah, she’s coming along. She’s not ready for clinical trials, yet. Maybe next week—”
“My name is Caster, Jesstin. I’m Clinic staff.” The slender woman reached into the pocket of her pristine lab coat and pulled out something small and metallic. “I’ve heard that members of your tribe are marked with some mystical symbol of their clan. Is that it? This lovely tattoo?” She laid the tip of the instrument against the glyph on the swell of Jess’s left shoulder and pressed a button. There was an ugly buzzing sound.
Jess grunted, spun tightly, and fell, clutching her arm.
Brenna started, then stared at Jess in shock. “What are you doing?”
“I’m demonstrating the new patient-control device we’re introducing to the unit.” Caster’s voice was calm and richly feminine.
She stepped away from Jess and showed Brenna the stunner, a streamlined, gleaming stylus. “It gives off quite a charge, but it’s adjustable. I gave Jesstin here a fairly large jolt just now. Quite painful, but no lasting tissue damage, and the pain and disorientation fade after a few minutes.”
Brenna watched Jess climb back to her feet. Her face was chalk white, and her long legs were visibly trembling.
“Why was that necessary?” Brenna asked sharply.
“Well, let’s consider our subject, Brenna.” Caster studied Jess, who carefully kept her expression inscrutable.
This is a ripe one, Jess thought, drawing deep breaths to dissolve the spun glass webbing her mind. Her shoulder throbbed as if it had been kicked by an iron-shod horse. She watched Caster lift a pair of half-glasses, draped around her neck by a jeweled silver chain, and gesture with it as she spoke.
“Remember our discussion, dear, about how difficult Jesstin finds it to accept her status as a convicted criminal? Her Prison chart indicates she is highly contemptuous of all forms of legal authority. Given her flagrant and chronic flaunting of regulations, it seems it would be perfectly all right with our Amazon if we returned to the chaos of democratic rule! A reminder of the wisdom of compliance was in order. Don’t you agree?”
An almost irresistible urge to go to Jess held Brenna silent.
Caster rested her hand on Brenna’s tense arm. “And you should have some backup yourself, dear, if you’re working with her alone.”
“I don’t think I’ll need a stunner, Caster.” Brenna swallowed. “She’s been pretty cooperative.”
“And I’m sure she’ll continue to be, now.” Caster smiled, with a carnivorous flash of white teeth. She gestured at the staff Brenna held. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your therapy session, Brenna. Please continue.”
“We were finished,” Brenna said quickly.
“Nonsense, it’s not even noon. Pick up your weapon, Jesstin.”
Jess thought sourly that she should have seen this coming. Put this cold City shrike in stiletto heels, and she was a bloody cartoon version of a dominatrix. She bent stiffly and retrieved the staff from the grass.
“Caster, even drilling with a quarterstaff can be dangerous, and Jesstin still looks pretty groggy.” Brenna used her hands to decorate her words, an old habit when she was agitated. “Maybe you’d like to come back after our lunch break and watch us go hand-to-hand. That’s really her specialty.”
“Brenna, I realize you’re not in on all the Military strategy involved in this.” Caster turned Brenna aside and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You know that Jesstin comes from a faction of mountain women—yes, some are calling them descendants of the semimythical Greek Amazons—who are notoriously resistant to any kind of outside intervention. In spite of numerous overtures and rather generous terms, they blatantly refuse the patronization of our City Government. We’re beginning to fear that the women of Tristaine are far too stubborn to accept peaceful annexation. And unfortunately, dear, our subject is as obstinate as the rest of her clan.”
Caster kept an eye on the prisoner as she spoke soothingly to Brenna. “We don’t need more information about Tristaine, Brenna. We could get that at any time through the use of chemical interrogation. Our goal is to find out what it takes to break an Amazon’s will to resist. Permanently, not the short-term submission we can easily elicit through torture.”
Brenna tried to imagine what kind of force would be necessary to break this particular Amazon’s will. She would have to watch it happen.
“‘Defeat the civilian’s resistant spirit,’” Caster quoted from a journal article of her own that Brenna recognized, “‘and defeat civilian resistance!’ Hopefully, through bloodless assimilation—without our Army having to reduce Jesstin’s lovely mountain haven to ashes and rubble. I’m simplifying vastly, of course, but if we’re to have any hope of annexing Tristaine without bloodshed—if we wish to assimilate, rather than annihilate, an entire primitive culture, then we must use Jesstin here to give us a formula for transforming a savage Amazon into a peaceful, law-abiding citizen.”
Caster pressed Brenna’s shoulders. “Jesstin still needs discipline, Brenna. Even after months in lockdown and regular beatings, she is much too headstrong. If she goes into clinicals like this, she may not even survive them! We really need your help with this. And your part starts today.”
Questions Brenna knew she couldn’t ask moved sluggishly through her mind. “You want us to drill?” she asked faintly. “Now?”
“I want you to fight now,” Caster corrected. “Take her down, Brenna. Hard. Make her feel it. Quickly. The effects of the stunner won’t last much longer.”
“But—”
“Now, Brenna.”
Jess couldn’t hear the murmured conference, but she braced herself when Brenna turned back with her staff clenched tightly in both hands. She streaked forward and attacked with a sudden fusillade of strikes, and Jess back-stepped several yards before she was able to fend her off. She finally locked their staves together and heaved Brenna back to clear space between them.
“Jesstin, listen to me.” Brenna’s tone was low and urgent. “Just drop your guard. Take one strike, fast and neat, and go down.”
Brenna’s staff flew out of her stinging hands, propelled by a kick so fast it hardly registered. Ordinarily, a blow to the exposed throat would follow, but Jess was woozy, not crazy. She danced backward lightly and hovered on the balls of her feet.
Brenna moved almost as quickly as Jess had. Her sneakered foot swept out in a sharp kick that thudded into Jess’s unprotected side with audible impact. Brenna was so astonished at her success that it took her a moment to realize she’d kicked Jess flush in her bruised ribs.
Jess dropped her staff and teetered, then went to her knees, folding over the pounding in her side. Brenna locked her own knees to block the instinct to go to her. Her heart was a timpani in her chest, and she felt a sudden roil of nausea.
“Nicely done, dear.” Caster smiled approvingly at Brenna, then addressed the gasping prisoner. “Think of it this way, Jesstin. For the past week, you have experienced our City’s benevolence in the person of your lovely medical advocate here. She has tended you, nourished you, and seen to your every need and comfort, yes? And in return, she has required only your obe
dience and compliance with simple rules. Now, my brawny friend, just as this slip of a girl struck you down without warning, so Tristaine should respect and fear the City’s vast—”
“Save your benevolence for the men of your City, Cassie.” Still clutching her side, Jess sat carefully back on her heels. She heard Brenna’s quick warning breath and ignored it. “If the women down here keep escaping to the mountains to join us, their husbands will only have your frigid white butt to warm their beds.”
Brenna was having trouble keeping any one thought in her mind right then, but she was practically certain Jess couldn’t have spoken those words. Not in that husky, sensual, mocking drawl.
The elegant woman next to her became still, and Brenna’s heart skipped another jagged beat. “Take this,” Caster said.
Brenna looked down at the stunner Caster was pressing into her hand. “Y-you want me to use this on her? Now?”
“Unless you have a problem with my judgment.” Caster’s voice was mild, but her black eyes were flinty.
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can and you will. Whenever it’s necessary.” Caster leaned closer, and her minted breath blew in brief, hot bursts against Brenna’s cheek. “You can go far in Military medical research, Brenna, with the right contacts. But I warn you, you must steel yourself to this sort of thing. You don’t want to be limited to applying Band-Aids all of your life. Remember that there are a dozen applicants for every promotion at the Clinic. And none of those candidates are squeamish.”
Brenna swallowed.
“Full intensity,” Caster instructed.
Brenna met Jess’s gaze. She adjusted the dial on the stunner with cold fingers. A moment passed.
“Come now.” Caster sighed. “Full intensity is hardly more than the first jolt I gave Jesstin. In fact, it might be best to administer this one in precisely the same place. High on the left shoulder, please, over the tattoo. Since the first dose obviously had such little lasting effect.”
“Jess,” she whispered.
Jess was keenly aware of the rifles trained on her back from the guard posts and the banshee Caster’s avid gaze. She sat motionless on her heels. “I can’t help you with this, Bren.”
Brenna stared at the stunner in her hand, then at the hard swell of Jess’s shoulder. The swirling lines of the glyph were muted under a flushing circular burn. The tip of the stylus trembled as she rested it in place. She had no real choice. She could feel Jess’s gaze on her face, but she didn’t meet her eyes as she fingered the switch. The ugly buzzing sound barked again.
Pain blasted through Jess’s arm and chest and up to her throat, locking out breath. To her disgust, a sick gray haze settled over her, and she realized she was passing out. Brenna rose and backed away from Jess as if she were a snake thrashing in the grass. Jess sprawled on her back and lay still.
“Thank you, Brenna.” Caster clasped her slender hands behind her and looked down at the unconscious prisoner. “I think we’ll give Jesstin some time to ponder her options. The fresh air out here will do her good.” With a smile, she added, “Well, my young colleague, with one brief lapse, you’ve been most professional this morning. Now you’re about to earn some lucrative overtime. I want you to stay here tonight.”
Brenna was staring at Jess’s motionless form through the heat waves blurring her vision, but she nodded.
“Have Jesstin tied down, just as she lies. She’s to remain here until midnight.” Caster ticked the points off on her long fingers. “Understood?”
“Midnight,” Brenna repeated stupidly.
Caster nudged Jess’s leg with her foot. “You can find some shade and get caught up with your paperwork. Be sure no one gives her water. Escort your patient to her cell after midnight. Patch her up as needed. Remember, nothing for pain. Then take off. With six hours of overtime on your clock.”
Brenna shrugged and nodded, feeling like a child. Her thoughts were boiling.
A mechanical buzzing issued from the pocket of Caster’s lab coat, and she pulled out a compact cell phone. “Yes? Hello?” Her face lit with pleasure, and she lowered her voice. “Robert? He did! Oh, darling, that’s wonderful. Yes, steaks for dinner. Fire up the barbie, I’m on my way. Love you too.”
She folded the small phone with a happy snap. “My oldest just won the freshman division of the All-City Science Fair. He worked so hard…dear, I do have to run. Please see to all this, yes?” Caster patted Brenna’s cheek and strode off toward the arena gate, checking her watch.
Brenna looked up at the festering sun, and her throat went dry. Jess was going to lie under this for six hours. Then six hours more, in the chill of night. She took a tentative step forward and studied Jess’s pale features, her dusky lashes still against the high cheek. Her breathing was normal now, and her color was coming back.
Brenna shook herself mentally, and her lips parted to call Dugan and Karney down off the walkway. Then her breath trailed out of her. She knelt beside Jess and rested the backs of her fingers against her face.
“I didn’t want this,” she whispered. “Jesstin?”
If she wanted absolution, Jess couldn’t provide it. She was deeply out. Brenna brushed some hair off Jess’s damp forehead. Even senseless, she projected a nameless dignity. Her austere beauty only heightened the effect. She looked like a warrior, Brenna thought, a fallen warrior out of myth.
She rose quickly to her feet. “Karney, stay here. Watch her,” she called. Targeting the exit opposite the one Caster had taken, she homed in on it, walking fast. “Dugan, bring restraints.”
“Glad to,” Dugan called back from the catwalk. “You’ll join us again, won’t you, Miss Brenna? Where you going?”
“Locker,” Brenna snapped, and kept going.
*
12:30 a.m.
Brenna paused outside the detention cell and stared at the steel paneling of the door. She had waited in a shadowed corner until she heard the fading echo of Dugan’s voice and the jangling of Karney’s keys as the two men strolled back toward the staff station. Brenna breathed into her palm and sniffed, then pushed the door open.
The brilliant lamp suspended over the restrainer flooded Jess’s body with merciless light. Her black clothing was still covered with the dust of the arena grounds, and she was trembling slightly.
Brenna had endured the hours much as Jess had, in less physical discomfort, but equally robbed of the ability to act. She left her patient only twice, once while Dugan and Karney staked Jess to the ground, and again when they took her back to the cell. She emptied half the flask in her locker each time. And she was still dismally sober.
Brenna opened the small drawer on the supply counter and took out a chemical ice pack. “I know you’re awake, Jesstin.”
Jess opened her eyes.
“I’m going to put this on your side.” Brenna flexed the ice pack to activate it.
She unbuttoned Jess’s shirt and spread it open. Her patient’s firm breasts and belly were strikingly pale against her scarlet throat and upper chest. Her collection of faded bruises was highlighted by a newly painful discoloration low on her right side.
Brenna laid the ice pack gently in place, and Jess started. Her breasts lifted with the motion, and Brenna averted her gaze quickly.
Jess’s throat felt like it was stuffed with socks. “How ‘bout some water?” she croaked.
“Not right now.” Brenna raised her eyebrows in dismay. “No, I’m not withholding it. You just need to rest for a moment longer before you drink, if you want any of it to stay down.”
Jess nodded. Her extraordinary eyes were dull.
Brenna moved closer and laid her palm lightly across the base of her throat. The flesh beneath her hand was flushed with sick heat, but even as she watched, gooseflesh rose on Jess’s collarbones. Sunburn aside, she was wracked with chills. City nights were as cold this time of year as its days were hot, and Jess had been staked out there for nearly twelve hours.
Brenna picked up one of
the medications she’d taken from the dispensary and pressed a small amount of ointment into her hands.
“Jess, you’re a little dehydrated.” She controlled her voice, keeping it low and calm. “We need to push fluids as soon as we can and get your body temperature back to normal. Meanwhile, this cream is pretty good for sunburn.” She hesitated. “I know you’re tender. I’ll be careful.”
Brenna settled her palms on Jess’s shoulders, avoiding the angry burn left by the stunner, and began to massage the cream into her reddened arms with gentle circular strokes.
Jess let her eyes focus blankly on a far wall and willed herself to relax under the soothing touch. She felt her nipples harden again and cursed silently. It was happening now whenever Brenna touched her. It didn’t matter where. Her damn carnal urges were getting as rebellious as her tear ducts.
“You were a bloody idiot today, Jess.” Brenna knew what she wanted to say. She’d had half the day and night to gather her thoughts. “You provoked that second stunner hit. Caster was within protocol to order it.”
Jess said nothing. Brenna dabbed more cream into her palm.
“What happened afterwards,” Brenna’s fingers were light on Jess’s forearms, “tying you out there all afternoon…I know that was harsh. I’m not disagreeing with Caster, but it was a…very strong intervention.” She paused. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you.”
Jess’s eyes drifted shut under the pleasant stroking. “It wasn’t your call, Bren.” Her shoulder was killing her, and her side hurt. Even more than strictly merited, she thought, until she remembered who kicked it.
The heat of the sun had been punishing, and so was the abrupt chill that descended with dusk. But the Prison had offered far more torturous responses to insubordination. Stars filled the sky above Jess as night fell, refreshing her spirit as pleasantly as water would have slaked her thirst. Her very skin soaked up the faint starlight, parched after weeks behind stone walls.
Brenna supported Jess’s head as she sipped water from the blue decanter. Those same stars look down tonight on Tristaine, she thought, holding the water in her mouth to savor its cool promise. Tears might have come, if she had been alone.
The Clinic Page 3