Beyond Varallan

by neetha Napew

  “Which did you hear about?” I asked. “Rogan, or Xonea?”

  “Both.”

  I smiled. My reflection smiled back. Reever’s didn’t twitch a nerve cell. “Then you already know why I’m here.” My smile faded as the engines made a transition. At least they weren’t as loud as before. That sound...

  He stepped closer and sat down next to me. The heat from his body reached mine. “That is not why I am here.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I hunched away from him. “I’m leaving the ship. Getting off on the next non-League world we come to.”

  “That would be Dr. Rogan’s homeworld.”

  “The second non-League world we come to.” If the engines lasted that long.

  He moved an inch closer. Now I could smell his skin. “Cherijo, it is never as hopeless as you may think.”

  He was right. It was worse. “The voice of experience.” I frowned. The engines... what was it about that sound that bugged me so much?

  “I am here, am I not?”

  I turned my head to glare at him. “Very funny.” His arm came up around me, and I let my head rest on his shoulder. “I’m terrible company right now. You really should go.”

  His scarred hand tightened on my upper arm briefly. “There is something I have to tell you.”

  Something in his voice warned me I wasn’t going to like it. I sat back up and faced him. “You’re not getting off on Rogan’s homeworld, I hope.”

  “No. I was sent to find you. There has been-“

  That sound! The same thing had happened after Fasala and the educators had been injured. After Roelm’s death. After the mercenary had been killed. I had been unconscious at the time, but I felt sure the same surge occurred after Ndo died. That meant-

  “God, Reever, someone’s been murdered,” I said. “The same way the others were.”

  “How did you-“

  “Come on.” I got up and started running. He caught me before I could reach the next level. “Let me go, Reever. I’ve got part of the connection now! I have to tell-“

  “Cherijo. Listen to me. You need to hear this first.” He took me in his arms.

  “What?”

  “It is Yetlo Torin.”

  “No.” I pushed my hands against his chest, struggling free. “Nothing’s wrong with Yetlo. I just left him a few hours ago. He’s fine.”

  “He was murdered, Cherijo.”

  “No!” I shouted as I grabbed the front of his tunic. “I just left him! He was doing fine, he wanted to live! I swore I’d-“ I broke off with a strangled sound, and buried my face against him.

  Reever stood there with me for a long time, holding me, saying nothing. When I finally regained my composure, I lifted my head from his damp tunic.

  “Let’s go.”

  Medical Bay echoed with silence. No one looked at me as I swept down the ward to where Yetlo’s body lay. His outer derma had the same strange striae as Roelm’s had, with a grisly addition. The stress of whatever killed him had torn his chest wound wide open.

  “Senior Healer.” Squilyp appeared with Yetlo’s chart.

  “Report.”

  “Yetlo was complaining of discomfort and trouble sleeping,” the Omorr said. “I gave orders to administer the painkiller you prescribed an hour after you left the Bay.”

  “Who administered the dose?” I demanded.

  “Adaola, under my supervision. We finished making rounds, and were treating outpatient cases when Yetlo’s monitor went on full alert.”

  Outpatient cases? “How many walk-ins did you have in here?”

  Squilyp looked uncomfortable. “Perhaps twenty. I had scheduled them in a group, to afford the most efficient processing and treatment.”

  “I want a list of everyone who was on this ward,” I said. “What happened after his monitor went off?”

  “I began resuscitation at once, of course, but it was too late. Tissues were flooded, possibly due to a reaction to the narcotic. Convulsions and heart failure were nearly synchronous. He died without ever regaining consciousness.”

  “Did you or the nurses see anyone do anything?”

  He shook his head.

  Reever accompanied me to the office. Squilyp followed after he retrieved the list of outpatients. Once the door panel closed, I sat down on the edge of the desk and rubbed my reddened eyes before I consulted the list.

  “Tareo, Ralrea, Hado...” I continued to read the names until I reached the last one. “Is this everyone who was in Medical today, Squilyp?”

  “No, Senior Healer. There were several others who reported for treatment,” the Omorr said. “Dr. Rogan unfortunately did not make the proper chart notations on the patients he treated, so I am unable to provide a complete list.”

  Another reason for me to kill Xonea. “Gentlemen, we have a problem.”

  “What of Pnor’s investigation? Was nothing discovered?” Squilyp asked.

  “Pnor found no evidence to identify the killer.” My fingers began thrumming on the desk top. “I have. There is a link between the power surges in the engines and every one of these killings. That, and a two-meter ring of light that mysteriously appears and disappears.” I looked from Squilyp to Reever. “Yetlo is the last person who dies this way. I will take this damn ship apart piece by piece to find this maniac if I have to.”

  “How can you find someone when you don’t know who it is?” the Omorr asked.

  “We’re going to try accessing my memories again. You, me, and Reever.”

  “The Captain has forbidden it,” Squilyp said. “He was most specific.”

  “The Captain has no authority over my mind. We’re going to do this, right here, right now.”

  “Doctor, at least give me time to set up one of the surgical suites as an isolation area. The last time we attempted this, there was an unpleasant aftermath.”

  And the unpleasant aftermath was now running the ship. “Locks on the doors are good,” I said. “Reever?”

  “Perhaps Resident Squilyp can requisition some weapons,” Reever said. “I should not wish to encounter the Captain when he is in an emotional state again.”

  “If no one makes an announcement,” I said, “we don’t have to worry about ugly scenes. Agreed?” Both men nodded. I focused on my resident. “How long to set up, Squilyp?”

  “I will need an hour.”

  “Great. Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Breaking the Choice

  We made arrangements to convene at the surgical suite in an hour. I left Squilyp to settle the ward down for the night. Reever had already disappeared.

  Rather than returning to my quarters and facing the sight of Xonea moving out, I trudged down eighteen levels to level twenty-five. It was the lowest of the four levels providing access to the enormous engines and stardrive array. I found a number of engineers examining one of the huge housings. They looked like ants swarming over a giant barrel. One noticed me and hurried over.

  “Senior Healer?”

  It was Barrea, one of the men who was injured during the last attack. He had to shout to be heard over the sound of the exposed engine.

  Broken arm, torn shoulder ligaments, my brain recalled. “How’s the arm, Barrea?”

  He appeared delighted that I remembered his case, and rotated the limb carefully. “Still stiff, but much improved!”

  I beckoned to him and we walked far enough away to be heard without the yelling. “Barrea, did you report to Medical for outpatient treatment today?”

  He removed his protective headgear. “No, I am not scheduled to report for three more days.”

  “Good.” That meant he wasn’t present when Yetlo was murdered, and it would be reasonable to assume he wasn’t involved. “I need your help.”

  He was surprised. “Of course, Senior Healer. Anything.”

  “A short time ago I heard a sound coming from this level. The engines sounded like they were screeching.”

  “We experienced a power overload.”
<
br />   “What was that caused by?”

  Barrea looked sheepish. “I do not know, Senior Healer. We cannot explain the power fluctuations as of yet.”

  “But it’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  I counted names: Fasala, Roelm, Leo, Ndo, and now Yetlo. “Five times before?”

  “How could you know that?”

  “A lucky guess,” I lied. “Can you describe-in nontechnical terms-what has happened during each of these incidents?”

  Barrea tilted his head as he considered my question. “I can theorize, if that is acceptable.”

  “Great. Go ahead.”

  “The engines draw power from the absorption grid and primary energy exchangers.” He went to a console and waved for me to join him. On the display, he brought up a schematic of the Sunlace. “Here.” He pointed to the ship’s interior. “Each level of the ship forms an outer part of the central fuel core.”

  I peered at the display. “Are those circular symbols the transductors?”

  He seemed surprised I knew the term. “No, they are transductor junctions.” He pointed now to cylindrical tubes leading to and from the junctions. “These are the transductors.”

  “What do they do?”

  “Transductors supply energy forms demanded by ship operations. The junctions are where raw fuel is converted before it floods the transductors.”

  “How big are these junctions?”

  “They range in size, according to load and demand. They can be as large as twenty meters in diameter, or as small as-“

  “Two meters?”

  He nodded. I managed to maintain my composure. “Go on, Barrea. Tell me the rest of your theory.”

  “We believe that energy is being drained from the transductors. It goes in a definite cycle. Very little power is lost, and slowly at first. The power drain grows greater and more rapid over a period of time.”

  “What would happen if the power was drained all at once?” I asked, already sure I knew the answer.

  “The engines would cease operation at once.”

  “Okay.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “What happens next?”

  “Once the engines are nearly drained of energy, the unidentified tap seems to heal itself. Power floods back into the cold engines, making them strain to compensate. The result is the sound you heard.”

  “You don’t know what’s doing this?” I thought I did, but I couldn’t tell him that. Not yet.

  “No, Senior Healer. We believe it may have something to do with the unexplained buffer breech in level fourteen some weeks ago.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We discovered some sonic-based matter in the engines themselves after that incident. The matter was identical to the shards removed from the three females who were injured.”

  I related all I had learned from Barrea to Squilyp and Reever a short time later in Medical.

  “Sit still,” the Omorr said as he attached the monitor terminals to my head.

  “But don’t you see the connection? The smallest of these transductor junctions match the diameter of the light ring that flashed just prior to the murders.”

  “What has this coincidence of size have to do with the loss of power to the engines?” Reever asked. “Transductor junctions cannot generate power surges or breaches in the sonic alloy.”

  “Whatever is being used to kill our people apparently requires a tremendous amount of energy. Let’s say the murderer can tap into the ship’s own power and drain it off from the engines. Barrea told me the engines would shut down if the power was drained all at once. So the killer has to do it gradually-siphon it off a little at a time.”

  “Where would the power be stored during the draining process?” the Omorr asked.

  My fingers flicked. “Tech details. Who cares. Let’s say the killer stockpiles the energy until he has enough to do this thing that kills the victim. After he attacks, the drain stops. The engines go into an immediate surge. Hence the engine rattle Roelm heard after the attack on Fasala and the two educators.”

  “An interesting theory,” Reever said. “For which you have no evidence.”

  “Your support is appreciated, Reever.” I glared at him. “What I can’t figure out is how the transductors are involved. This two-meter circle of light, does it come from them? Or is it supposed to be some sort of. artificial junction? Does it convert the power? Focus it?”

  “Doctor.” Squilyp sounded pained. “We must begin. Oblige me by tabling this discussion for the moment.”

  I obliged. “Did you secure the doors?”

  “Yes, for the third time.” He checked the monitor connectors and stroked his gildrells. “You are certain you want to do this?”

  “No one else is going to die.”

  “Cherijo,” Reever said from the exam table next to me. “Calm yourself.”

  I remembered something else. “I forgot to tell you about the stuff Barrea found in the engines.”

  “Not now, if you please,” the Omorr said. “We can’t leave the ward unsupervised for too long. The nurses are already suspicious.”

  “Oh, all right. I’m ready.”

  “NE levels are reading normal,” Squilyp said as he checked the monitor display. “Limbic system neurotracer portals functional. Initiating continuous vital scans.”

  “Be prepared to apply cortical electristim.” I lay down face-up. Reever turned on his side toward me. “Let’s go.”

  The Omorr took his position by the monitor. “You may initiate the coupling.”

  Cherijo.

  Reever, I thought back. I didn’t even blink this time.

  We improve with practice. Yield to me now, Cherijo.

  As we had before, Reever and I entered the recesses of my memory. It wasn’t as frightening this time.

  Think of the third visitation. When you were injured. Remember, you are in control.

  Someone had said that to me before.

  Xonea’s voice.

  Take control of the dream, Cherijo.

  Take control.

  Take take take-

  I was back in the golden, glowing chamber. I couldn’t breathe right. It was there. I could feel it wrestling with me for control of my mind.

  Look at the presence, Cherijo. See the face of your attacker.

  Laughter mocked Reever’s quiet command. “You think you see me, little human?”

  It was different this time.

  Reever? I called out, unsure of what to do.

  Face your attacker.

  I squashed the fear and turned back to the presence. My words were the same as they had been before. Get it over with. Again I watched as Ndo’s busy image appeared.

  “Pnor never knew Ndo’s envy. Ever loyal, steadfast Ndo. Now only a speck on the face of a star. The one, true path.”

  The ring of light. The shattering attack. Ndo’s collapse. The convulsions. Death.

  I’ve been here, seen this. Come on out and face me.

  “You are braver than before, little one. Remember our last encounter? I enjoyed watching your body writhe beneath my fists.” The voice gloated. “Almost as much as I enjoyed caressing you.”

  You’re a sick, twisted monster.

  “Oh, yes.”

  I watched as an image of Yetlo appeared. He never opened his eyes, but deep inside me I sensed he knew he was dying, and fought for his life.

  Yetlo. You did understand.

  “You corrupted him. Diverted him from the true path. I gave him his greatest wish.”

  You murdered him!

  Cherijo, you must open your eyes.

  “Yes, little one. Open your eyes.”

  Anger gave me the last push I needed. I opened my eyes.

  Xonea stood before me. His open hands dripped with green blood. “Here I am, my Chosen.”

  Xonea?

  “What say you, Cherijo? Is this not what you wanted? The truth?” He came toward me. “I am here for you, my Chosen. Here to divert your path.”
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate.

  Reever was trying to break through some barrier between him and the two of us. Cherijo, it is not Xonea.

  Sure looks like Xonea to me. I wasn’t going to let him get away with this. He’d played me for a fool more than once. I went toward him, and was surprised to see him take an uncertain step backward.

  What’s the matter? Afraid of the little Terran now?

  “I will crush your bones to dust,” my ClanBrother said.

  I reached with a mental hand and grabbed the front of his tunic. With a tremendous effort I tried to swing my other arm, but he jerked out of reach. A handful of fabric remained in my fingers. The tear revealed a jagged purple mark over his heart.

  Xonea doesn’t have a birthmark on his chest. I came at him again. Who the hell are you?

  “Death.”

  Reever broke through the barrier and thrust himself between us.

  Remove this false image, he ordered the presence. Reveal your true face.

  “Not yet,” the voice whispered. Xonea’s image melted into a yawning, empty hole. “But soon. For now, here is something with which you can remember me.”

  This time Reever shouted as we were jolted from the link back into reality.

  Cherijo!

  “Doctor!”

  My eyes opened. The Omorr was pinning Reever to the exam table as he went into violent convulsions. I rolled off and tried to help him. Forgot about the hookups. I ended up sprawled painfully on the deck. By the time I untangled myself and stumbled to Squilyp, he had sedated Reever.

  Someone began pounding on the outer side of the surgical suite’s doors.

  “Visitors,” the Omorr said.

  “Cherijo! Open this panel!”

  “My ex-roommate.” I sighed. “You got those weapons Reever asked about, right?”

  I’d never realized what a propensity for claustrophobia I had. Or that I knew that many bad words. Of course, I’d violated my superior’s orders before. I’d just never been thrown in jail for doing so.

  Captain Xonea took his sweet time in coming down to the detainment cell. By then I knew it was approximately forty-feet wide. Thirty-feet long. Twenty-feet high. Driving me nuts.

  I heard my two guards speaking quietly to someone, then Xonea appeared outside the barrier.