Beyond Varallan

by neetha Napew

  He’d called me Healer. Relief had me grinning. “You can still call me ‘Doctor,’ if you like.”

  “And you-you may call me... Squid Lips... if you care to.” His strained expression indicated the enormity of the concession he was making.

  “When I do, it will only be because you’re driving me crazy,” I said, and patted his shoulder. “I’d like your opinion on one of the patients. I’m seeing more drainage than I like from his chest wound. Want to take a look?”

  “Of course. There is something I wish to ask you, first.”

  “Sure.”

  “When you have some off-duty time, will you accompany me to an environome?”

  I was confused. Here I’d thought we’d settled things. “Why?”

  “I would like to practice challenge moves with you. That last assault you made-“ He shook his head. “Who taught you to fight like that?”

  I thought of Xonea, and my lips flattened. “My Chosen.”

  Squilyp gaped. “You are to be bonded?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.” I shook my head when he would have asked more. “Long story. Let’s go examine that patient.”

  I spent a surprisingly successful shift working with the Omorr. We disagreed on a few cases, but now it was more like the arguments Tonetka and I had. A sense of mutual respect went well with the bickering.

  I could really like Squilyp, I thought, as I trudged into my quarters. Jenner was waiting for me, and scented Alunthri on the ball of twine I tossed him. He even ignored his food dish for a full five minutes to pat the ball around.

  Once my pet abandoned me for a nap, I made myself a server of tea, then went to my console to access the cultural database. Pnor’s investigation, as far as I knew, had yielded no new information on the killer. Maybe I could turn something up.

  The very rare cases of murder in modern Jorenian history had usually been committed by offworlders. Every killer had been caught and nearly all of them declared ClanKill. Three suspects on record who’d refused to confess to their acts had been banished from Joren forever. One of them, a native Jorenian, had killed himself as soon as the sentence had been handed down. I downloaded the case file so I could study it further.

  The Jorenian involved had apparently returned to the homeworld after several years of imprisonment on an alien world for some unspecified transgression. From the time of his release and subsequent reunion with his HouseClan, he displayed violent and irrational behavior that indicated a state of severe psychosis. When he learned his bondmate had petitioned the Council to have their bond dissolved and him committed, he killed her. Later, he refused to admit to the crime. Since there had been no witnesses, a sentence of banishment had been decreed.

  A few moments later, the mentally ill male had committed suicide in front of the Ruling Council.

  I could see why Xonea found it hard to believe a Torin had killed Roelm and the mercenary, when the only case involved a deranged psychotic. Still, it was proof that a Jorenian was capable of murder. And psychotics could successfully conceal their illnesses, sometimes for years.

  The question was, which Jorenian? Why would one of the crew kill Roelm, an engineer, and Leo, a Terran mercenary? There didn’t seem to be any connection, other than the fact that both had been confined to Medical shortly before they were murdered.

  I’d have to give it more thought.

  As I scanned through the available data on their judicial process, I also learned Pnor could have put me off the ship, just by simply suspecting I was involved in the murders. So why hadn’t he done that? Then I came across a very interesting paragraph.

  Suspected offenders Chosen by a member of the victim’s HouseClan after the offense has been committed may be thus shielded from judicial action until such time as the case can be presented before the Ruling Council on Joren.

  So Xonea had another reason for making his Choice. Anger swelled inside me. Why hadn’t he mentioned this little clause? I got up to adjust the envirocontrols, then went back to check the rest of his story.

  Offworlders had also been responsible for every recorded case of rape. Pnor’s disbelief was justified then. Unbonded victims had been Chosen within hours of the assault. Pregnancies as a result of rape were even more rare, the records indicated only seven. It was my guess that the children were never told.

  I didn’t need Xonea to protect me, not from murder charges or a rapist. Just what would it take to break this Choice?

  There was no divorce, and no case of a Chosen breaking the Choice due to unwilling participation. Given the Jorenian attitudes toward sex, I thought as I deactivated the console, their monogamy wasn’t surprising.

  I couldn’t seem to relax, so I secured the door panel and injected myself with a mild barbiturate. Just as I prepared to drop on the sleeping platform, my display panel chimed.

  “What is it?” I asked, fighting the artificially induced cocoon of sleep.

  “Message from Ship’s Operational.”

  I dragged myself over to my display and accepted the signal. It was S.O. Ndo.

  “Healer. Forgive me for disturbing you.”

  “No problem.” I yawned behind my hand. “What’s the problem?” Boy, that sounded bright, I thought sluggishly. Nothing destroys your vocabulary faster than a good dose of drugs.

  “I am preparing my formal report on the mercenary attack,” Ndo said. “I need to clarify some aspects of your statement with you.”

  “Can we do this tomorrow, S.O.? I’m beat.”

  He nodded.

  Good. I’d had quite enough for one day.

  I scheduled a time to meet with him and programmed an appropriate alarm signal. Jenner was waiting on the mattress for me when I fell into it.

  I thought of Xonea, Reever, Alunthri, and Squilyp. Results were evenly divided. I’d like to throttle Xonea, I thought. Reever probably wanted to do the same to me. I’d said good-bye to Alunthri, my old friend. Now I had a potential friendship with Squilyp.

  A small, rough tongue rasped against my cheek, and I fell asleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  For the Children

  Let’s review your report one more time.”

  S.O. Ndo was methodical, precise, and unaware I had a massive headache. A large, horrible instrument of torture pounded at the back of my skull, from the inside. Barbiturates had that effect on me. Not even two scalding-hot servers of floral tea had helped.

  Morning-afters. Universally to be avoided.

  “Of course.” I carefully recounted everything I could remember from the moment I woke to find the mercenary Leo standing over my bed.

  I was at the point of “Reever managed to disarm him, there was a flash of light, and then-“ when Ndo interrupted.

  “A flash of light? That was not in your report.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t put it in my report. The only lights I ever concerned myself with were medical optic scanners, and the ones that made it possible to walk around my quarters without banging into things.

  “Sorry. Yes, there was a light or something that flashed, just for a moment. I thought it was from an internal scanner.” Even as I said that, I realized how silly it sounded. Jorenian scanners didn’t produce light. “I really didn’t think about it.”

  “Describe how it appeared to you.”

  I concentrated. “Reever had linked with me to project a false image. The projection fooled the mercenary into believing we were inside the launch already. When he came back out, Reever took his rifle and stepped back. Then there was this bright flash of...” I halted. “Not a flash. Something else.” I shook my head, frustrated. “Why can’t I remember?”

  “It is understandable. You were under extreme duress.” Ndo appeared sympathetic, but I heard the same frustration in his tone.

  “Why are you concerned about the light? Do you think it had anything to do with-“ My eyes widened as I remembered. “Fasala saw some kind of light, too. Just before her accident in the cargo bay. A ring of light!” />
  “That is what you saw?”

  “Yes! It wasn’t a flash, but a perfect circle.” I was excited as the image finally sifted to the top of my sluggish memory. “Large, perfectly circular, about two meters in diameter. White with a prismatic edge. It couldn’t have lasted more than a tenth of a second.”

  “Two meters?” Ndo seized on that. “You’re certain of the dimensions?”

  “Of course. Why?”

  “The damage to the buffer was calculated to be the same area, given the amount of alloy recovered from the injured.”

  “You’re kidding.” I sat back in my chair. “It could have been the same thing Fasala saw, then.”

  Ndo nodded as he keyed the information on his data pad.

  I speculated out loud. “So what do we have on the ship that creates a two-meter circle of light, slices through adaptable sonic alloy, and dissolves living bone and tissue?”

  “Nothing,” Ndo said as he continued entering the data.

  While I waited, I went over the shift when Fasala had been brought in. Squilyp and I had argued over how to detect the buffer shards. Roelm had said something...

  “The Engineer described equipment used to fit the buffers on ships. He said the technology was based on sound.”

  “Harmonicutters.’

  “Do you have any those laying around somewhere?”

  Ndo shook his head. “They are too large. The vessels they are used on must be docked in specially designed bays in a specific region on our homeworld.”

  “There is no such thing as a portable harmonicutter?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  That wasn’t exactly a no. “How does a harmonicutter work?” Ndo gave me a slightly exasperated look. “Please, it’s important.”

  “It produces continuous, high-intensity energy, Healer. Rather like your surgical lasers, only a harmonicutter uses sound instead of light. Its sonic beam converts raw alloy material into the dimensions required on the particular vessel being fitted.”

  “This sonic beam, is it composed entirely of sound waves?”

  “Yes.”

  In the past, extracorporeal shock-wave lithotripsy, or ultrasonic waves, had been used to break up kidney and upper ureteral stones on Terra. The primitive procedure often caused mild to moderate cellular damage at the entry and exit points.

  This harmonicutter was obviously much more powerful. If used on a living being, would such focused sonic energy have a more lethal effect? It would explain the absence of any toxin and why their insides had been turned into liquid, too.

  “Roelm and the mercenary could have been murdered using a sonic beam of that intensity,” I explained my theory to Ndo.

  “A harmonicutter is not as focused as a laser, as the energy it generates is utilized on immense areas. A harmonicutter used as you describe would destroy everything within at least a ten-meter radius. You and Linguist Reever would not have survived.”

  Okay, so my theory had some holes in it.

  “Tell me something. Who on board the Sunlace would know how to operate a harmonicutter?”

  He looked thoughtful. “Most of our engineers and senior helm staff. Roelm, of course. Xonea, Captain Pnor, and myself as well.”

  No help there, that was about a hundred people. Too many to make a viable list of suspects. I pushed a tired hand through my hair.

  “S.O., may I continue this discussion with you after I’ve had time to think about it?” I was feeling distinctly ridiculous, fighting off a continuous wave of yawns. Surely I hadn’t overdosed myself. Had I?

  “Of course.” He rose and offered his hand as I struggled from my seat. “Are you feeling ill, Healer?”

  “I’ve had better days, Ndo. Thank you for your patience.”

  I trudged off to the gyrlift and took it up to my quarters. Dhreen was waiting for me just outside my door panel. He tried to talk me into a game of whump-ball. I yawned in his face.

  “Too tired,” I waved my hand. “Later.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the fact you and Reever aren’t speaking to each other? Again?” Dhreen’s guileless eyes glinted.

  “None of your business.” I barely had enough energy to key myself in. The door panel closed behind me. I was in trouble, I thought. My sluggish brain finally processed the fact that this was not a natural weariness.

  Nothing could make me this tired. I’d been drugged again.

  I reached up and hit the comm panel with an awkward swipe.

  “Xonea...” I fell back and slid down the wall. “Alert... Xon-“

  He was hurting me again. The man with the hard hands, who relentlessly probed my body. I screamed and writhed until I thought my lungs would burst.

  “Resistance test gamma-fourteen negative,” he said. “No signs of contagion.”

  “Shall I prepare the next series, Doctor?”

  The dark blue eyes looked down at me. “Give me the nasal probe. I want to check the sinuses.”

  “If she sounds snotty, it’s because she’s been crying for an hour, Joseph!”

  The woman pushed him out of the way and took me in her arms. She wrapped my naked body in something soft and warm while she glared at the man.

  “Margaret, put her down.”

  “You’re hurting her.”

  “She will not remember any of this.”

  “You hope she won’t.” The woman cradled me close, and my shrill screams died as I nuzzled instinctively at her breast. “When was the last time you fed her?”

  “We must keep her stomach empty until the trial is complete.” The man made a curt sound. “It will not harm her to go without nourishment for a twenty-four-hour period.”

  “Give me a bottle.”

  “Put her down and leave, Margaret.”

  “And if I don’t?” she demanded. “What are you going to do, Joseph? Starve me, too?”

  “Put her down!”

  My body was wrenched from the woman’s arms, and I heard her scream blend with mine.

  Take control of the dream, Cherijo.

  Take control.

  Take take take-

  I was standing in a chamber, my breath burning in my chest. The presence hovered there in the depths of the shadows, just out of reach. I tried to take control, to leave that place.

  “You think you can control me, little one? Me!” The laughter was chilling. “I could crush you with a thought.”

  “Then do it.” I centered my consciousness and drew strength from the sense of power it gave me. “Get it over with.”

  “You know nothing of power. Watch and learn.”

  Before my eyes a window appeared, one that displayed the level where I had just been interviewed by Ndo. He was still there, looking over my report, frowning and making notes on a touchpad.

  “He resents his place in the succession, but would never reveal it to Pnor.”

  “Leave him alone!”

  “Look at him. Ever loyal, steadfast Ndo, who has yet to Choose, yet to make a child. He thinks he knows something, but his arrogance blocks insight.” The voice lowered, became almost gleeful. “Let me show him the true inner path.”

  I saw a ring of light form in mid-air behind the S. O. He jerked back, falling from his chair as the light shattered over his body.

  “Stop it!” I shouted.

  “It is done. Now he will know the emptiness I feel.”

  I watched in horror as Ndo collapsed in convulsions. He was dead in minutes.

  “You killed Roelm and that mercenary, didn’t you? You bastard!”

  The presence turned on me. Smashed into my mind. I couldn’t shield myself from the pounding fists. The shrill voice shrieked disjointed accusations, punctuated by more blows.

  “You let him... believed you... killed for you ...”

  Another presence was there. Something vague, far beyond the battering hands. The other spoke to me.

  Cherijo. Wake up. You must wake up.

  “... make you wish... never born ...” the
first one was screaming. I couldn’t take much more. I reached out, desperate to escape.

  Cherijo. Wake up. Wake up!

  “Cherijo!”

  Someone slapped me, hard.

  “Wake up!”

  I fell out of the dream, and found myself in a convulsive state. Pain clutched at me. I curled up in a fetal position, automatically trying to protect my injuries. Literally every single inch of my flesh throbbed in agony. My eyes fluttered open when six-fingered hands touched me.

  Xonea rolled me onto my back. I was on the deck. Then the world went black.

  The next thing I knew the big pilot was running, carrying me in his arms. I fought to keep my eyes open.

  “Ndo?” Strong hands kept me from getting loose. “Ndo! He’s in trouble!”

  “Be calm, Cherijo. You are injured.”

  I fell unconscious again, and woke up on an exam table. The Senior Healer was leaning over me.

  “Tonetka? Ndo!” I tried to hurl myself off the table. Xonea’s face appeared on the other side. Now his hands held me down. “I have to-“

  “Remain still, Healer.” Tonetka opened my tunic and performed a brisk, thorough examination. Xonea averted his eyes, while I glanced down. Saw more bruises forming on my pale skin. A lot more.

  “Tonetka.” She met my gaze. “What the hell happened?”

  “You were beaten,” Xonea said, his voice low and filled with dangerous menace. Now he looked, memorizing each mark.

  I sagged back on the exam pad. “Then it’s too late.”

  “Too late?” Tonetka echoed.

  “Ndo. He’s dead. Whoever did this killed him.”

  I was confined to a berth in Medical Bay. Again.

  “Anaphylactoid purpura,” Tonetka said a day later. “Severe ecchymoses and petechiae. Three reasons you will stay in that berth, Healer, until I advise you differently.”

  “We’ve done this before, remember?” I said. “I won last time.”

  She clutched a scanner and passed it over me. “The last time you were my patient, you did not have ruptured blood vessels over virtually every centimeter of your epidermis!”