Brenna couldn’t look at Jess. “This project…isn’t a good match for me.”
“But you’re so highly skilled!” Caster dabbed some of the liquid onto the gauze. “And you must know the Clinic is the crème de la crème of Federal research facilities.”
“I’ve lost my taste for Government work.” Brenna didn’t know why Caster was doing this, but she couldn’t prolong this discussion. The silent Amazon was taking up all the air in this massive room, and she had to get out of there. “My decision is final, Caster. I’ll leave the forms on your desk.”
Run like hell, Brenna, Jess thought.
“Really, dear. All this, just because you allowed your patient to seduce you?”
Brenna stopped.
Dugan hooted softly and nudged Karney, who looked away.
“I suppose it does complicate things, dear, but perhaps it’s all for the best.” Caster poured more liquid onto the gauze pad. “If Jesstin is truly drawn to you, as opposed to simply using you, we can exploit that. You’re all the more valuable to us because Jesstin will be especially impacted by any punishment you administer. It might make an interesting sidebar to our journal article someday.”
“You don’t understand,” Brenna said tonelessly. “I’m out of here. I didn’t become a medic to…Caster, I’m not coming back.”
“I’m sorry, Brenna, but I can’t allow that.” Caster regarded her seriously. “It’s very important to me that this project succeed, dear. It could form the cornerstone of my career. Of all our careers. Losing a medical technician at this stage would be disastrous, at least on paper. Something like that might even be enough to hurt our funding.”
Brenna felt sweat bead on her forehead. “You don’t listen very well, lady. I’ve had it with this place and with you.” She turned and started toward the doors to the gym.
Caster’s voice rang sweetly to the steel rafters. “Do you have any idea how long you’ll spend in Prison, Brenna? For stealing narcotics from the Clinic dispensary?”
Brenna turned and stared at her.
Jess’s concern for Brenna cranked up another notch. She doubted Brenna had ever encountered Caster’s blend of genteel amorality and ambition. She could only hope she had the sense to fear it.
“I asked Mr. Dugan here to break into your locker yesterday, Brenna. He slipped about five thousand dollars’ worth of morphia capsules in there. I reported them missing from the dispensary this morning. There’s a shiny new lock on your locker now, and I have the only key.”
Brenna’s hands filled with a tingling numbness.
“Sweet little flask, dear. A gift from your sister?”
“This girl’s no threat to you, Caster.” Jess’s voice was filled with gravel. She hadn’t spoken in three days. “Leave her alone.”
Brenna saw Dugan shift the rifle in his arms. Caster turned to Jess with arched brows.
“Oh, come, Jesstin.” Caster moved closer to her and patted the soaked gauze tenderly over the stunner burn at the base of her throat. “You can’t hope to distract me from the fate of this pretty little slattern by so overtly drawing my fire.”
Jess stiffened and closed her eyes. Brenna realized the solution Caster was using on the burn was tecathenase, or something equally caustic.
Caster turned to Brenna with the patient air of one summing up the obvious. “Sexual contact with a prisoner is grounds for dismissal, Brenna. That, and drinking on the job, will ensure that you never work in a medical setting again, not in this City. But you may not require employment, because you could be sitting next door in our cozy Prison, for ten to fifteen years.” She smiled. “Jesstin, tell us how long petite young blondes last among violent inverts—”
Jess’s hand shot out and caught Caster’s slender wrist. “You sick City harpy—”
“Jesstin, don’t!” Brenna cried.
Caster shrieked and Dugan bellowed. Karney was closer to Jess and reached her first, jamming the end of his rifle into her neck. Dugan wrenched her arms behind her. Stuart rose from his stool but quickly sat back down. He had watched the tape of the Amazon in the arena three times.
Jess thought for a moment Karney would fire, out of sheer rattled nerves. She allowed Caster to yank her arm free.
Caster’s jeweled wristwatch fell with a glassy clatter to the hardwood floor. “Dugan,” she gasped, holding her wrist tightly between her white-coated breasts. “Get this fucking savage away from me!” She whirled on Brenna, a strand of her silver hair dangling over one cheek. “Make your decision, girl. Prison, or your worthless name on a prestigious Government study?”
Brenna closed her eyes for a moment, but she had no gods to pray to. She walked toward Jess, not hearing the hollow echo of her steps on the floor. She looked up at Dugan. “Let go of her.”
Amused, Dugan backed off, raising a hand in mock obedience.
Karney lowered his rifle. “Brenna, this sucks.” He glanced at Caster, his voice low. “But I have a family.”
Brenna didn’t hear him either. She spoke to Jess quietly. “I don’t have a choice in this.”
“There are always choices.”
“I can’t go to Prison.”
“Then that’s your choice, Bren.”
“Remove the prisoner’s shirt, please, Brenna.” Caster was recovering her poise.
Brenna’s hands were steady as she tugged the snaps of Jess’s black shirt apart, then reached up to slide it down her arms. She folded it neatly.
“Let’s begin.” Caster patted her silver hair in place. “Jesstin, I’ve devised a protocol for our second trial that fairly reeks with Amazonian authenticity. Mr. Dugan, Mr. Karney? Please bind our subject between those two uprights there at the far wall. Stuart, go with them and set up the camera.”
She bent beneath the table and withdrew a coiled whip, shining and rough as a black rawhide snake. “Brenna, you’re to flog Jesstin until she either passes out or agrees to sign the renunciation. Be careful now. It took me months to master this thing. It’s tricky. You’d best take a few practice strikes before we roll tape.”
Brenna watched Jess walk toward the far wall of the gym. Dugan and Karney kept their distance on either side of her. She felt Caster’s arm slide gently across her shoulders, and her throat filled with a burning thirst for vodka.
“I know this will be difficult for you, dear. But try to keep in mind that our ultimate goal is the salvation of Jesstin’s mountain village. If we’re able to make the women of Tristaine law-abiding Government citizens, we’ll actually save their lives! Without us, they’ll die in a bloody, explosive war they have no hope of winning.”
Brenna watched as the two men leaned their rifles against the far wall, then took Jess’s arms and stretched them between the two standing poles. Her bare back gleamed under the gymnasium’s harsh light. Dugan said something to Karney and laughed. Karney just fumbled with the cuffs, trying to find the release.
“And if we can break Jesstin’s spirit before we break her body,” Caster continued, “then she’ll live too. There could be no greater justification for your participation in this study, yes?”
She offered Brenna the bullwhip. Brenna looked at it dully, then reached for the leather grip.
“Hey!”
“Fuck, Kar—”
Jess took Karney out neatly with a spinning kick to the crotch, then Dugan with a heel to the kidneys. Stuart promptly dropped both chair and camera with a crash and bolted toward the alarm lever on the opposite wall. Jess let him go.
She targeted the two women across the length of the long gymnasium and ran.
Caster screamed in genuine terror. She jerked Brenna around in front of her to use her body as a shield. She fumbled with the stunner in her coat pocket, then saw the insanity in the sprinting prisoner’s face, and she froze. The stunner was a toy in the face of such rage.
She heaved Brenna forward, a sacrificial offering to slow the demon down, and bolted for the back door. She almost fell, looking back to see how far the rabid Amazon
had to run before she was disemboweled by her teeth. She staggered to a halt, astonished. The madwoman wasn’t coming after her. She was targeted on the insipid young medic!
Jess vaulted to the table and used it to launch a soaring dive. At that moment the air split apart as Stuart yanked on the alarm lever, filling the gym with a screaming siren.
Brenna waited, watching Jess’s blazing fury descend toward her. She felt both fear and relief. She could have run, but she didn’t.
“Bloody traitor!” Jess screamed.
Her body crashed into Brenna and carried them both to the floor. Brenna fell hard and then slid a good three yards on the polished wood, Jess’s weight crushing the air from her lungs. She heard the siren, the yells of the men, Caster’s strident commands. Strong hands encircled her throat.
Jess snarled loudly, then bent over Brenna and pressed her lips to her ear. “I’m choking you. Fight me. Listen. This won’t save you, Brenna. She’s got you now.”
Jess raised her head, filled her lungs, and emitted a blood-chilling howl. Her arms locked, shaking, but her grip around Brenna’s throat remained loose and relaxed.
“Dugan, Karney, no!” Caster sounded frantic as she snatched up the bullwhip. “You can’t shoot her from there, you cretins. You might kill her! Run, run!”
“Listen to me,” Jess spat. “Get out of here, Brenna, out of the City. She has her hooks in you, and she’ll never let go.”
Brenna finally pulled breath back into her lungs. She heard thunderclapping footsteps and saw Caster loom above them. They were out of time.
“Leave her!” Caster shouted at Dugan as he and Karney reached them. She snapped out the bullwhip. “This protocol will be followed, Jesstin, one way or another.”
“There are always choices,” Jesstin whispered to Brenna, and then Caster’s whip cracked across her bare back like a gunshot. She gasped raggedly.
“Caster!” Brenna was frozen, half-pinned under Jess’s long body as the lash descended again. The oiled tip of the bullwhip struck Jess’s upper shoulder, inches from Brenna’s eyes.
“Get out of there, Brenna,” Caster snapped. “Assist her, Mr. Dugan! Jesstin, are you quite sure you don’t want to put a stop to this?”
Jess made no reply, and Brenna twisted out from under her. She didn’t think. She just sprawled across her patient to shield her. Caster couldn’t stop the lash’s trajectory in time, and it snapped hard across Brenna’s stomach. She felt the strike through her shirt, and she almost fainted.
“Idiot,” Jess panted. It was all she had breath for.
Dugan grabbed Brenna roughly and hauled her to her feet, and Caster resumed the beating.
Jess stayed down, braced by her forearms on the gymnasium floor. She shuddered under the repeated cracks of the whip across her back, but she didn’t cry out. Brenna’s gesture made Amazon macha important again, somehow. She felt blood trickle from one of the welts, wending down to her waist, but she remained silent.
Brenna forced herself to stand still between Dugan and Karney and watch the scourging numbly. She could almost feel the color drain from her face. Her eyes remained tearless and fixed.
Finally Caster coiled the whip, her smooth face glistening. “My, that’s quite a workout! I’m afraid my arm gave out before our stubborn subject did.” She patted her wrist to her forehead. “It’s unfortunate that your display of temper prevented proper filming of this trial, Jesstin. We’ll have to come up with something truly cinematic for your next session. Mr. Karney, escort the prisoner back to her cell, please.”
Brenna watched numbly as Karney pulled Jess to her feet. She was conscious, but only technically, and she couldn’t stand without the burly orderly’s support. Brenna looked up at Dugan silently until he released her with a mocking grin. Then she addressed Caster. “You have to let me treat her back.”
“Certainly, dear, if you’re willing. She’s quite subdued now.” A pretty flush of exertion tinged Caster’s cheeks, and she smoothed her silver cloud of hair carefully. “Use the tecathenase.”
“Caster.” Brenna discovered she was willing to beg.
“Tecathenase or nothing,” Caster said firmly. “And we won’t be able to give Jesstin as much recovery time from now on, Brenna. Her clinicals continue tomorrow. I’m sorry, dear, but that’s what the whittling process is all about.”
*
Jess heard Brenna’s voice first, which was fortunate. The rest of her awakening was distinctly less pleasant. She lay face down on the restrainer, which had been adjusted to lie flat. Her shirt was still off. Her back felt wrapped in sheets of flame.
The soothing voice above her fell silent, and she felt cold fingers on her arm.
“Can you tell me how bad it is, Jess?”
“How do you do that?” Jess mumbled.
“What?”
“Know when I’m awake.” Jess opened her eyes in stages. “I just found out myself.”
“Your body tenses up. Whoa, yeah, like that.” Brenna put her arm across her hips as Jess’s nerve endings awoke in full. “Yell if you need to, Jess. It’s okay.”
“I can’t. Too macha.” The nausea receded, and Jess craned her neck to see Brenna. “You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Brenna smiled wanly, because she knew how fine she looked. “I’m going to finish washing your back. It’s just water. It’s all I can do, but it’s better than nothing. I’m not putting that tecathenase acid on this.”
Jess rested her chin on her crossed hands. She could feel the warmth from the arc lamp on her flayed shoulders, and she tried to quell the fine trembling in her gut. “How much time do I have?”
Brenna shook back the white sleeve of her lab coat and checked her watch. “It’s evening. Maybe fourteen hours.” The strain was back in her voice. “You can’t take another session like this tomorrow, Jess. I doubt if you’ll be able to walk by then.”
“I’ll walk.” Jess closed her eyes.
Brenna paused. “That stunt you pulled, jumping me like that.”
“Didn’t work, did it?” Jess sighed. “If Caster let you in here alone with me, she doesn’t believe I’m going to tear out your aorta. I wanted to stop her from using you against me.”
“I know. But you did it for me, too, didn’t you? So I wouldn’t have to…”
“Not all for you, Bren. Caster’s right. It would have been worse for me if you’d held the whip.”
Brenna stared at her. She continued sponging her back, and for a while there was only the sound of water being rinsed from the cloth.
Jess felt tears rising and made no effort to stop them.
“Jesstin?”
Jess scrubbed her face on her forearm. “Just homesick.”
Brenna rinsed the cloth in the basin again and watched the water swirl with red. “You were out of it for a while, Jess. You said a few things. Names. Like Kyla, and Shann, some others I didn’t catch.”
It didn’t matter, Jess told herself. The Military had had files on Shann for years. She hadn’t revealed anything vital. But if she was spouting off like that in her sleep, then she was losing control, and that worried her.
“Was anyone else around?” Jess’s breath caught as the new tension in her shoulders started an unfortunate chain reaction, locking her muscles again.
“No, we were alone. Will you settle down, please?” When Jess was able to relax again on the chair’s padded surface, Brenna rested her hand on the thick hair at the base of her neck. “Jess, just lie there for a second. Don’t go on until you feel better.”
Jess complied. Her breathing steadied. “I feel better,” she mumbled.
Brenna laid the wet cloth against a welt high on her shoulder. “Camryn and Kyla, they’re your friends in the Prison. Right? And they’re both like you, they’re Amazons?”
“We’re from Tristaine.” Jess’s brogue was subdued. “Long story. ‘Amazons’ will do. We use the word ourselves. Cam and Ky were arrested soon after I was. For trying to spring me, as Camryn put it. The littl
e saps.”
“Spring you?”
“Well, they’re Amazons.”
“Spring you from a Federal lockup?”
“They’re adolescent Amazons.” Jess made the effort to smile. “And they came pretty close to pulling it off.” She tightened for a moment, as Brenna patted the cloth across her raw shoulder blade.
“Kyla and Camryn.” Brenna repeated the names. “They knew your friend Dyan, too? And the girl who was with her, Laurel?”
“Lauren,” Jess corrected. “Lauren was Camryn’s younger sister, by blood. Dyan was Kyla’s older one.”
Brenna exhaled sharply. “Lord, Jess.”
“They’re my adanin, so they came after me. They should have waited for Shann.” She closed her eyes. “This hurts like a bitch, Bren.”
“I know it does. Stay with me. You’re doing great.”
Jess’s back and shoulders were striped with lash marks of no discernible pattern. The whip had cut deeply enough into her tanned skin to draw blood several times. Brenna felt again the shocking, fiery sting of the single stroke she’d taken. She tried to multiply that by thirty.
Her fingers tightened on the cloth. Inexorably but gently, she kept it moving. Her other hand still rested in Jess’s hair, scratching her head lightly. “I don’t know why you’re not screaming. Anyone else would be.”
“What are you going to do about Caster, Brenna?”
Brenna stilled her fingers. “Don’t worry about that now. I can take care of myself.”
“You haven’t done very well so far.”
“Pardon me, here.” She slid her fingers out of Jess’s hair. “I got by for twenty-three years before either you or Caster showed up. And my life hasn’t been the fun little potluck you seem to think it has.” She made sure none of her annoyance showed in her hands. Her touch on Jess’s back remained light and careful.
“I don’t doubt that, lass. I’m sitting up.”
“No, you’re not. Jesstin, damn it!”
Brenna argued while Jess pushed herself up on her arms, then shifted, very carefully, until her legs dangled over the side of the recliner. She rested her hands on the leather surface, sat up straight, and took a deep breath, waiting for the cell to settle again. She looked at Brenna. “Have you been crying?”
The Clinic Page 7