Endurance

by neetha Napew

  Reever nodded, grabbed my arm, and hauled me out into the corridor.

  “Hey.” I tugged, but his grip was like a vise. “Why the rush?”

  “Have you any idea of what you have done?” Reever said as he dragged me through the station.

  Not really, but I guess I was going to find out.

  The launch carrying Clyvos, the miners, and another detachment of Hsktskt centurons arrived at the same time Reever and I flew back to the Perpetua. The Aksellan and I exchanged glances through our viewports as the launches passed each other.

  I waved. “Looks like TssVar plans to keep his side of the bargain.”

  Reever, who was manning the launch alone, looked up from the helm for a moment. “Hsktskt rarely prevaricate. They consider it beneath them.”

  “Like everything else.” I sat back and rubbed my hands over my face. “Will they throw me back into isolation?”

  “I don’t know.”

  That was my OverMaster, always eager to reassure me. Whatever was eating him must be suffering horrible indigestion. “I guess you’re out one slave-girl. A shame. Be a good soldier and maybe he’ll give you another.”

  Reever put the helm on autopilot, got up out of his harness, and walked back to where I was strapped in. Yeah, he was angry. I could tell from the way that little muscle ticked along his jaw.

  “I used a blood-bond to keep you alive I have been holding in reserve for fifteen years.” He sounded vicious, and at the same time, astonished. As though he couldn’t fathom his own actions.

  I felt like saying join the club. “So what’s another blood-bond, more or less?” I closed my eyes. A moment later I was ripped out of the harness and hauled up to his eye level by my slave collar.

  Okay, I thought, I should stop gloating now.

  “I grow tired of your ridicule and sarcasm,” he said, letting go of the collar to pin my arms to my sides. “You belong to me and you will do as I tell you.”

  My fear went the same route as his self-control. Out the door panel.

  “I’m sick of your mouth, too.” I wasn’t that far off the deck-if he dropped me, nothing would break. “Despite what you think, I’m not your property, pet, or plaything. And, for future reference, I’ll do exactly, exactly what I want, when I want, where I want.”

  His hands tightened, grinding into my bones. “You will say nothing of this to TssVar.”

  “No!” He was really hurting me now. I kicked him in the shin, as hard as I could. He didn’t move a muscle. “What are you made of-stone? Damn it, put me down!”

  He didn’t. He shook me, fast and hard. “You will say nothing, Cherijo, or I will keep you suspended in a mental link. Indefinitely.”

  “Just try it!” Could he? I fought to free myself, and kicked him a few more times. “Let go, let go of me!”

  Unexpectedly he did just that-set me down on my feet. Before I could react, he drew back his arm and hit me. No love tap, but a heavy, openhanded slap that sent my head smashing into die cabin wall. My ears rang as I collapsed against the passenger seats.

  “You will remain silent when I speak to TssVar,” he said in a horrible voice. I flinched as if struck a second time. “Do you understand?”

  “Yeah.” My eyes filled with tears of hatred and pain. I slowly regained my equilibrium, pushed myself up and covered my burning cheek with my hand. “I got it.”

  “Cherijo.” He reached out, then hesitated. Slowly his fingers curled away and he dropped his hand.

  While he was preoccupied with staring at my face (and doubtless the bruise that was forming on it), I brought my right hand up and slapped him equally as hard.

  “I won’t say anything.” I waited until he caught my gaze. “But touch me again, and one of us won’t walk away breathing.”

  Without another word he went back to the helm.

  An armed escort was waiting for us, and the trio of lizards didn’t look very happy. They marched me and Reever up to the Command Center, where TssVar was giving orders to another group of his centurons. When the OverLord saw us, he made a single, vicious gesture that cleared the room.

  Well, almost. FlatHead stuck around so he could watch the fun and games, I supposed.

  “SsurreVa.”

  I’d forgotten just how big and scary a Hsktskt can be, especially when they stand about an inch away from you. All those gleaming teeth, perfectly designed to grab, hold, and rip to pieces. “OverLord.”

  Reever stepped forward, and actually put a hand on one of TssVar’s upper limbs. “There is much that I must tell you, brother.”

  “Yes, OverMaster HalaVar.” GothVar pushed away from his position by the door. He reminded me of a scavenger, moving in for whatever scraps he could get. “Tell our Commander how this Terran fodder deceived him. Tell how she conspired to betray us to the Aksellans from the moment we entered the processing station.”

  I noticed he didn’t mention anything about his premature helpfulness, but I was going to keep this last promise to Reever. I’d keep quiet. After this, all debts were satisfied.

  “HalaVar.” TssVar shoved me out of his way to stalk up to Reever. “I would hear your explanation.”

  “Dr. Torin was held at gunpoint during the entire incident, as was I.” Reever lied without twitching a blond eyelash. “She followed the Aksellan’s instructions in order to keep both of us alive. I was unable to relate this during the transmission, for the same reasons.”

  “She did not sound as if she was under duress.” The Hsktskt swiveled around to stare at me. “I would have thought her enjoying her... coercion.”

  “I had hoped you would understand our plight when I referenced our blood-bond.” Reever sounded bored. “Why would I cancel such an enormous debt over the life of a few miners and one Terran female?”

  “Why, indeed.” TssVar’s gaze roamed between us restlessly. “Yet it is done, HalaVar.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  I had no idea of what they were talking about, but now I was getting bored. Tempted to ask if I could go, I caught the look on Reever’s face and bit the inside of my cheek instead.

  GothVar had no problem with self-restraint. “HalaVar indulges this slave, OverLord.” He came over to me, clamped one of his huge hands around my right wrist and nearly pulled my arm out of its socket.

  “Hey!” I yanked back.

  With a swipe, he shredded the length of my tunic sleeve and held out my arm to TssVar. “You see? No PIC.”

  My slave-brand was gone? I checked. It was. Nothing marred my flesh, not even the faint signs of fading keloids. My creator’s tinkering had landed me in hot water once more. I couldn’t tell TssVar that, but I wasn’t letting him burn me again. “I don’t need a brand, for God’s sake. I’m not going-“

  “See to it,” TssVar said to Reever. One of his six limbs lashed toward the door panel. “All of you, get out. GothVar, assist HalaVar with this female’s designation.”

  Even FlatHead knew when to gracefully retreat. “Yes, OverLord.”

  Outside in the corridor, Reever only shook his head when I opened my mouth. GothVar shadowed us from Central Command all the way to the chamber where Reever had first branded me. I began to break out in a sweat as I remembered the pain and helplessness.

  “I guess you can’t inject me with an indelible pig-ment?” I shuffled over to the circular pad. Reever said nothing. “I want the drugs this time.”

  “No drugs,” GothVar said, and held his pulse rifle trained on my chest. “You will perform the application on her as she is, as I watch.”

  Reever removed his own weapon and held it on FlatHead. “Release her, OverCenturon.”

  Me, about to be burned, standing between two beasts with guns fighting over how to do it. Maybe I should have surrendered to Joseph the first time he’d attacked the Sunlace.

  GothVar laughed. “You have no blood-bond to claim amnesty with, HalaVar. Kill me if you will, but TssVar will see you both dismembered for the murder of a free citizen.”

  Th
e lizard had a point. I stepped between the metallic columns and held out my arm. “Do it.” Reever shook his head, and I hissed out an impatient breath. “Now, Reever, before I end up getting shot, too.”

  GothVar came to stand right behind me, the best view in the house. Reever hesitated another moment, then quickly put his weapon away and went to the console.

  I felt the cold, dry touch of scaled flesh on the back of my neck, and froze.

  “When you feel the laser sear your flesh, scream for me,” the Hsktskt said, scraping his claws against the rim of my slave collar.

  “I can’t decide why no one likes you.” I closed my eyes when his claws slid between the collar and my throat. “However, I’ve narrowed it down to two possibilities. It’s either your breath, or your face.”

  “Soon we will reach Catopsa.” The claws dug into my flesh. “I will have you assigned to my tier. I will take my time with you, make you last.”

  Doing what? “Terrans tend to lose their appeal rather quickly,” I said, then jerked as Reever activated the laser, and swallowed a shriek. “Sorry... to... disappoint... you...”

  Heat slashed through my skin as the programmed application carefully re-carved each symbol. One of FlatHead’s limbs curled around my waist. Hot breath scalded my cheek. Dimly I realized he was enjoying it, aroused by the smell of burning.

  Fire enveloping my suit. I was burning. Children screaming with terror. Tonetka’s graceful hands, slapping at me, trying to beat out the flames...

  I made it through almost to the end. The last thing I heard was GothVar’s tongue slithering out to taste my pain.

  Reever must have kept me sedated for a day or two, because when I woke, my fresh brand was scabbed over and itching like crazy. I was on his sleeping platform, and he sat beside me, reading something on a data pad. I rolled over and got up carefully, making sure my legs would hold me.

  “You’re awake.”

  I didn’t wait to have a tête-à-tête. Whatever he had fed me wanted to come back up, so I made a quick run to the lavatory. Once my stomach was empty, I spent some time under the cleanser. I couldn’t rid myself of GothVar’s voice, or the memory of the sick pleasure he’d taken in my branding. The nausea stayed with me even after I dressed.

  FlatHead wasn’t a scavenger, I decided. He was what scavengers ate.

  I needed to do some work, so I resolved to go back to running Medical, and told Reever that. He said nothing, only examined my arm for a moment, then handed me a League physician’s tunic.

  “I will escort you,” he said when I’d dressed and headed for the door panel.

  “I know the way.”

  No one was running Medical anymore. Apparently Malgat had been sent to Detainment, and the nurses and residents had fallen into complete despair and equal disregard for standard procedure. I discovered a half dozen injured patients waiting who had not yet been treated, inpatients who need follow-up, and a thousand other tasks.

  There was no use pointing fingers. I just called the League staffers over to the center of the Bay and laid down the law.

  “OverLord TssVar has appointed me as the new Primary for this department. Senior staff will make progress reports directly to me, twice a shift. I want those patients waiting to be triaged and sorted in priority. Immediately. You”-I pointed to Vlaav, the loud-mouthed Saksonan who’d given me so much trouble after Shropana’s operation-“are in charge of assessment on ambulatory patients.”

  The red nubbly pockets on his hide swelled. “That’s a nursing slot!”

  “Aren’t you bright?” I wondered if those bulges ever burst, and made a mental note to keep him out of my sterile fields. “It’s yours now. Show me what a good nurse you’d make, and I might let you play doctor someday.”

  I went on to assign the senior staff positions, which everyone objected to-even the assignees. I blocked out the protests and requisitioned a pair of the most qualified nurses to do rounds with me. Then I started walking to the first berth.

  No one else moved. The entire Medical staff stood like statues in the center of the Bay, watching me while displaying varying degrees of astonishment.

  This was going to be tougher than I’d thought.

  I recalled something one of my own instructors had done back at Medtech, picked up a waste disposal receptacle, and banged on it a few times with an unused chart.

  “People.” The voices hushed. “Anyone I see not working within the next sixty seconds is permanently relieved from duty. No exceptions.” I dropped the receptacle so that it made a ringing bong. “I hear the Hsktskt can use some extra hands in the galley. To serve or be served, I can’t remember which.”

  That got them moving.

  Vlaav began sullenly evaluating the waiting patients, while I dealt with the ones who had been ignored for days on end. They were in fairly good shape, so someone had attended to them, more or less. Still I saw infections that could have been prevented, muscle damage from lack of therapeutic treatments, and several other situations that made me very testy.

  Two of the ten patients would need minor surgery, but most simply needed a doctor who actually read their chart, listened to what they had to say, and treated them accordingly.

  One of my nurses was replaced almost immediately by Dchêm-os, who scurried in from the outer corridor, carrying an armful of charts. “Talk, Doctor, we must.”

  Zel must have requisitioned some new toxin she wanted to try out on me. “Later.” I eyed the Hsktskt guard who’d come in after her. They carried a crew member between them, and when I saw who it was, I groaned. “How the hell did he get out of Medical? Can’t I leave for a couple days without everything going down the sanitation duct? Vlaav, get him on a table and take a look at him.”

  My Saksonan intern quickly triaged Colonel Shropana. I left Zel and the other nurse holding charts as I went to evaluate Vlaav’s notations. Patril snarled and tried to punch me the moment he saw me, which is why I directed two of the orderlies to put him in restraints.

  Someone had gone at him with something thin and sharp. Repeatedly. His uniform hung in tatters, his upper torso and arms were slashed a dozen times. Not blade wounds, from the ragged look of the outer tears.

  “Calm down, Patril. That dilapidated heart of yours won’t take much more stress.” I infused him with valumine and ran a full scan series. Shropana’s heart was my main concern, so after ensuring that his recent surgery hadn’t been compromised, I assessed his cardiac system. “Your arteries make plasteel look spongy. Did Malgat at least start you on therapy?”

  He snarled something obscene.

  “Thanks, maybe later.” I checked his records, and discovered that although my predecessor had diagnosed the Colonel’s condition, he’d done nothing to treat it. “We’re going to need to do something about those rib splinters, and talk about repairing this arterial situation.” He kept quiet, so I explained what was needed, then went on to the lesser of his problems.

  The gashes weren’t blade wounds, they were claw marks. Whatever had attacked him had nearly ripped out his throat, too. Another centimeter here or there, and I’d be bagging him for autopsy.

  “Did you and Lieutenant Wonlee get into a disagreement?”

  He spat at me, but missed. “This is your fault!”

  I made the appropriate chart notations while one of the nurses set up a suture tray. “Everything is my fault, have you noticed that? No matter what I do.” I set the chart aside and dialed up a compound treatment on a syrinpress. “I’m going to use some topical anaesthetic on the wounds, but what I’m injecting you with will help your heart functions-for now. You need that surgery.”

  “I’ll see you dead first,” the Colonel told me.

  Nurse Dchêm-os took the place of my suture nurse and assisted as I worked on Shropana’s wounds.

  Since Patril wasn’t feeling talkative, I glanced at Zel. “Who did it?”

  Zel slipped off her headgear. “Attacked him, that big cat of yours, this morning. To question it about yo
u, he was trying.”

  Alunthri inflicted this kind of damage? “What did you do to the Chakacat, Patril?”

  The Colonel ignored me and glared at the nurse. “You were supposed to kill it. And her.” He jerked his head toward me. “Now you slave for her as well as the beasts.”

  Zel stopped assisting and went very still. “With digitalizine, I injected her. No effect, it had. For no one, I slave.”

  “Nurse.” I was in the middle of a complicated suture and didn’t need the patient and my assistant getting into a fistfight. “Want to shut up and swab this?”

  “You see?” Patril grinned. “Next she will have you on a leash, like her domesticate.”

  Zel’s vibrissae quivered. “Never.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud.” Too bad I couldn’t suture his lips together. I deactivated the laser and pushed it out of the way. “Zel, ignore him and do your job. Colonel, you’re entitled to an opinion, but if you don’t shut up immediately I’m going to sedate you.”

  “Won’t be necessary, that.” Zel turned and called to another nurse. Once her replacement came over, she stepped away from the table, her black eyes glistening with renewed malice. “Murderer, you are. From you anymore, I will not take orders.”

  “Crushed, I am. Taa-taa.” I turned to the new nurse. “Prepare dressings for this patient.” I grabbed the laser and bent back down over Shropana.

  It took a double shift to get things into reasonable order in Medical, then I left. By then knots had formed in my belly, but not from hunger. I had to confront Reever again, and I wasn’t looking forward to that.

  Or perhaps I didn’t have to. I went to the quarters that the League had assigned to me, way back when, and after a quick check to determine they were unoccupied, locked myself in.

  There, I thought. Not being obligated to look at my ex-bondmate’s face, eat his food, or sleep in his bed proved very relaxing. Yet when I went to the prep unit and automatically dialed up some chicken noodle soup, I still felt like weeping.

  Chicken noodle soup had been the first Terran dish I’d ever made Reever.

  “So I’ll have asparagus bisque instead,” I said, and altered my program accordingly.