University [Sunsinger Chronicles Book 6]

by Michelle Levigne

  Heleen was pretty—there was no getting around that part. She had a thick mass of strawberry blond curls that cascaded down her back, past her waist, held off her forehead with a simple comb band. She had eyes like emeralds and a bow-shaped mouth and her thin eyebrows swept up, giving her a wide-eyed, too-alert expression. She laughed and chatted easily with Lin from the moment Dr. Frurin introduced her.

  “It's a genuine pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Heleen said, as they stepped out of the Council's building and started down the green-gold cobblestone walkway toward the restaurant section of the dome. “Ian and I have both been so fascinated by Sunsinger's adventure and all the information you retrieved."

  “We just scraped the surface,” Lin said. She waved a hand at chest level, as if she would brush away the other woman's praise. “Everyone else who went to the Mashrami planet after us did so much more work."

  “But you started it all, and you were intelligent and alert enough to recognize what you saw for what it was. I'd give anything to know how many ships went by that planet and didn't notice anything, or how many scientific teams studied the spectrum analyses over long distance and didn't realize what was wrong or what was happening."

  “Heleen has a strong sense of responsibility and outrage,” Dr. Frurin said with a chuckle. “This way, ladies. I thought we'd try Vidan cuisine tonight."

  He gestured down a walkway that led under a long awning. The building at the end of the awning had walls of uncut stone and mortar and a thatched roof.

  It wasn't actually real stone and mortar and thatch, but synthesized plastic and foam rock, dressed to look that way. Bain didn't mind the false front. The atmosphere would be interesting. Ever since he started his in-depth research into the Order, anything from Vidan fascinated him.

  A table for four in a quiet, shadowed corner waited for them. Dr. Frurin had started ordering ahead in the last few days, so their dinner would always be ready moments after they arrived. Lin and Bain liked the constant surprise, and after their long days giving testimony, or what passed for testimony, they were too tired to want to think about what to order for dinner.

  Today, almost the moment they settled in at the table, waiters brought trays filled with pots of tea and flavored sugars, and appetizers of steamed vegetables to wrap in hot, fresh saltbreads and dip in meat pastes.

  “How was it today?” Dr. Frurin asked, when they had been served and the waiters left them in peace.

  That settled one question for Bain. He wouldn't have asked about the testimony session if Heleen wasn't allowed to hear about it.

  “Seems like more of the same, even though I actually get to say something useful for a change.” Lin rested an elbow on the edge of the table and rested her head against one hand while she sipped at her orange tea.

  “I've been through that about a dozen times already since I started working with Ian,” Heleen said. “The best way to survive is to try to guess what the most embarrassing questions would be, and prepare to answer them in a way that makes you look better than ever."

  “Right now I can't even think ahead to what bath oil to use tonight,” Lin said with a chuckle. “Thanks. I'll try to follow that advice."

  “If it's any help,” Dr. Frurin said, “I anticipate being called in to present my findings on the data tomorrow afternoon. We can bolster each other."

  Lin rolled her eyes and nodded and pretended to faint back in her chair, which brought chuckles from all of them.

  “How are you enduring, Bain?” he continued. “From past experience, I imagine they haven't even looked at you, much less let you contribute anything."

  “Why am I even there if they don't need me?” Bain grumbled. He hoped he didn't sound as petulant and uncomfortable as he felt.

  “They will,” Heleen said. “One of these days, after Lin answers some convoluted question you need a star chart to follow, they'll turn to you and ask you to verify what she just said. They do that all the time—grill the principal and then ask the assistant to second what was just said. I don't know if they're doing it to prove she knows what she's talking about, or to prove you're worthy of being her assistant."

  “Everybody gets treated that way?” He felt a little better now. Bain had been fighting the awful fear that he was being ignored because he was only sixteen. He wondered if they would treat him like an adult if he had a beard. He had some darkening fuzz on his jaw, but not enough to shave off yet. He wished he had Gorgi's early problem of a few iron-tough strands sticking out of his chin. He didn't even have that promise of beard to bolster him.

  Chapter Seven

  Despite Heleen's warnings and the long evening of reminiscing about other testimony times she and Dr. Frurin had endured together, Bain still wasn't prepared for what happened the next day.

  The Council called on Ganfer to play back sensor recordings to testify. All morning.

  Bain tried not to be upset, but he felt alternately angry and ready to cry. The Council wanted testimony from the ship-brain, but not from a flesh and blood Human who had been there and had gone through the same fear and danger and excitement and confusion as Lin. Why didn't they want anything from him?

  When the testimony session reconvened after the lunch break, Heleen walked into the chamber with her arms full of data pads and disks and charts. She nodded to Bain and Lin and managed a thin smile as she walked to the table situated at the right hand end of the curve of the Council's table. Bain had wondered what it was for, and now he knew. He watched her arrange what she had brought on the table, then sit down. She tapped the toe of her boot on the floor a few dozen times, then glanced over her shoulder at the door.

  It was then that Bain realized Dr. Frurin should have been there too. Why hadn't he arrived yet?

  After another ten minutes, Heleen got up and left the chamber. Bain wondered if something was wrong. Dr. Frurin had never been late for anything, that he knew of. The man sometimes went off on tangents, talking about all the various subjects that fascinated him, but he never, ever lost track of time.

  Abruptly, Bain realized the chamber was completely silent. He chanced a sideways glance at Lin. She sat perfectly still, only her eyes moving as she surveyed the curve of the Council members’ table.

  “Has anyone seen Dr. Frurin?” the day's moderator asked. She was a tall, silver-haired woman with alabaster skin and chocolate brown eyes that always startled Bain for their darkness, every time he looked at her.

  Before he knew what he was doing, Bain raised his hand.

  “Yes, Apprentice Kern?” the woman said. She was almost too far away for him to see the expression on her face, but he thought she smiled a little.

  “Ma'am, I just saw Dr. Goran leave a few minutes ago. I think she went looking for him."

  “Do you have any idea where he might be?"

  “He's always in his lab or his quarters.” Bain took a deep breath. “Do you want me to go look for him, too?"

  “That would be very much appreciated. All our pages and clerks are gone for the day, since we knew Dr. Frurin and Dr. Goran would be providing all the materials for reference today.” She nodded and gestured toward the door.

  Bain didn't run until he had walked halfway down the hallway from the chamber and the doors had slid shut behind him. His soft shipboard boots made muffled slapping sounds on the polished, simulated wood floors.

  “I'm fetching Dr. Frurin,” he told the first person who stepped into the hallway at the sound of his running feet. The man nodded and Bain passed him.

  At the security portal for Dr. Frurin's building, he received no refusal—that meant the man was inside. Bain hurried up the stairs, knowing he could run much faster than the lift could carry him up or down.

  Bain shoved the door open and nearly slid to a halt on the fifth floor where Dr. Frurin's laboratory and quarters were. A thin, purplish-gray smoke that smelled like rotten eggs, musk, burned paper and melted plastic filled the air, from the ceiling to almost knee height. Bain raised an arm and pressed
his sleeve over his mouth and nose to filter the smoke before he breathed any more of it. What if it was poisonous?

  Next question—if Heleen had come here looking for Dr. Frurin, where was she? Where was he?

  The door to his apartment was open. That didn't make sense—it was an automatic sliding door. Bain's eyes watered from the bitterness of the smoke, but he couldn't smell it through his sleeve so he thought—hoped—he was safe. He headed down the hall toward the door, walking on the toes of his boots to make as little sound as possible.

  He saw a black boot sticking through the doorway, just enough to activate the sensors so the door didn't slide closed. Bain had seen the toe of that boot tapping with impatience just a short time ago. He moved closer, and saw Heleen's green jumpsuit leg was still sticking out of that boot.

  “Ganfer?” His voice was muffled. Bain took a chance and lowered his arm to speak more clearly. “Ganfer, can you hear me?"

  “Yes, Bain,” the ship-brain said. “What's wrong?"

  “Ganfer, there's all this purple smoke in the hall and Dr. Goran is on the ground in the door of Dr. Frurin's quarters. Can you call security? I don't know how."

  “I've called them, Bain. Maybe you should get away from the smoke, in case it's dangerous."

  “I can't—I think she's hurt.” Bain took a shallow breath. He didn't feel any different. Maybe the smoke wasn't dangerous—or maybe it just took a long time to effect him.

  He crossed the floor and paused in the doorway and stared.

  Dr. Frurin's front room was a mess even when it was completely organized. Bain had seen it enough times by now to know that someone had ransacked the room. The shelves were completely empty, tables were overturned, charts were torn to pieces. It looked like someone had a knock-down, kicking fight with sharp knives in their hands. At least he didn't see any blood spattered on anything.

  “Stupid,” Bain scolded himself, and tore his gaze from the wreck of the room as he knelt next to Heleen.

  She lay crumpled on her side, one arm stretched out toward the door into the next room, as if reaching for something. Blood matted her hair to the back of her head. Bain didn't see anything lying nearby that could have been used to hit her. Whoever did it must have taken it with them.

  “Heleen?” He touched her cheek. She didn't move. Bain thought about moving her, then decided not to. He didn't know what damage had been done, and the air was actually clearer here on the floor.

  “Security!” a woman shouted from the direction of the lift car.

  Feet started down the hall, then someone started coughing. Bain grinned for a moment—at least he hadn't started coughing. He stayed kneeling next to Heleen.

  “Dr. Goran is in here!” he called. “I haven't found Dr. Frurin yet."

  “What a mess,” the woman said as she appeared in the doorway.

  Her scarlet security uniform was reinforced with black plastic plate stunner armor. She stepped past Bain, her gun drawn and pointed at the ceiling. A few steps took her around the pile of books to the door to the next room. She looked inside, then went to the next door, then the third.

  “Found him,” she said, and gestured for the rest of her team to come in. All but one trooped through the mess.

  “Hi. You're Bain?” the wizened, chocolate brown man said as he knelt on the other side of Heleen. “I'm Brownlee, afternoon shift medic.” He started to run a scanner wand over Heleen's head, then paused and dug a thin filter mask from his supply pouch. “Just in case,” he said with a grin, and handed it to Bain.

  Nodding his thanks, Bain slid the mask into place over his mouth and nose and adjusted the elastic strap.

  “How is she?"

  “We'll know in a—ah, she's coming out of it already,” he said, and Heleen let out a whimper. “That's a good sign. Dr. Goran, can you hear me?"

  “Mm hmm.” Her eyes flickered open, and she let out a louder groan. “Ian?” She tried to push herself up on one arm. “Is Ian all right?"

  Brownlee looked at Bain and Bain looked right back. The boy shrugged.

  “We don't know yet. My job is to concentrate on you, Doctor.” Brownlee gestured toward the door with his thumb.

  Bain took that as an order to investigate. He was glad to. He scrambled to his feet and picked his way through the rubble on the floor to the third doorway, where the other members of the security squad had vanished.

  The door led to Dr. Frurin's laboratory. Bain's first thought was to wonder what had happened to the security sensors that would have slid the door closed, to prevent him from going through.

  Nothing happened. He didn't even hear a grinding or whining sound, like he heard on Sunsinger when something broken tried to keep working.

  The laboratory had been trashed ten times worse than the living quarters. The shining silver cabinets and countertops were dented, and some spots still smoked where corrosives had spilled on them. Four cabinets hung open, their insulated doors hanging crooked on warped hinges. All the shelves were empty—Bain didn't think that was right, even if he had never seen the inside of Dr. Frurin's lab before.

  Glass containers were shattered in huge piles, with sticky gelatinous puddles of growth medium spattering the floor in a murky mix of pink and green and yellow. The walls were marked where containers had impacted against them, their contents splattered in one huge blot and then dripping down to the floor.

  The smoke, Bain realized, came from several different liquids mixing together.

  “Coming through!” a man shouted from the hallway. Bain stepped into the laboratory and out of the way of the door as two men carrying a portable stretcher barreled through the mess of the living room and into the laboratory. They scurried around a workstation in the middle of the floor. The rest of the security team stood on the other side of the station. Bain followed.

  Dr. Frurin lay on his face, arms spread, blood on the floor where his nose and lips had bled on impact. More blood spattered the back of his otherwise pristine white lab smock. The back of his head had been laid open with a blow that made Bain's head ache just trying to imagine what had done that.

  “Nothing broken,” the head security woman said. “Be careful with him, will you? He's the best prof I ever had."

  “Sure thing, Lieutenant,” the burly man at the head of he stretcher said.

  He set it down on the floor next to Dr. Frurin and pulled out soft white plastic braces from under his jacket. In moments, he and his partner had braced and immobilized Dr. Frurin's neck and head and back, then straightened his arms and legs and lifted him, still facedown, onto the stretcher.

  They left the laboratory through the living room, moving at a fraction of their former speed. Bain followed them, not quite sure what to do. He found Heleen sitting on one of the couches, pressing a wet cloth to the back of her head. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw Dr. Frurin carried past.

  “Can you tell us what happened, Dr. Goran?” the security head asked. She came back into the room and stayed standing, facing Heleen and Bain.

  “He was late to testify for the Council,” Heleen said, her voice somewhat unsteady, but growing steadier as she continued speaking. “I buzzed at the apartment door, but he didn't answer, so I went down the hall to the lab door. I didn't hear anything or suspect anything until I stepped through the door and saw him ransacking the lab."

  “Him? Him who?” the woman nearly barked.

  “I don't know.” She shook her head—then winced and pressed the wet cloth against the back of her head again.

  Brownlee stepped through one of the other doors and gave her a glass of water with something fizzing in it. Heleen drank it and held her breath a few seconds. Bain saw the pain lines around her mouth slowly start to fade.

  “I don't know,” Heleen repeated. “I only saw the back of him from the waist up.” She gestured through the open door into the laboratory. “He was on the other side of the station, going through the cabinets. I was about to turn and leave and call security—” She choked on a
sob. “Then I saw Ian lying there and I said something, made a sound—I don't know what, but whoever he was turned and saw me. I ran. I tried to hide in the apartment, but he caught me as I was going through the door.” She rubbed at the back of her head with her other hand. “That's all I know."

  “Could you identify him if you saw.... “The security chief sighed. “If you saw the back of him?"

  “I certainly would try,” Heleen nearly growled. She glanced over at Bain and tried to smile. “Thank Fi'in, Bain came looking for us."

  “Thank Fi'in he got here after your attacker left, or we'd probably have three injured people and still not know what happened.” She rubbed at her eyes. “Any way you can tell us if that smoke is dangerous? There's some huge mess in the lab and the smoke is coming from whatever the intruder threw together."

  “Well, let me take a look.” Heleen gingerly pushed herself to her feet.

  Bain knew if he didn't do something fast to become useful, he would get sent away. He stepped up and offered his arm for Heleen to lean on. She smiled at him and slid her arm around his shoulders. She was only a few centimeters taller than him and didn't weigh much.

  Brownlee accompanied them into the lab. He waved his sensor wand through the air, analyzing the slowly dissipating smoke.

  “Oh, yuck,” Heleen murmured. She stepped away from Bain and slowly knelt next to the largest smoking puddle. She studied the pile of broken beakers and tubes, canisters and flasks and the different colors of thick, multicolored liquids that flowed together into the murky, purplish-brown smoking puddle.

  “I don't get anything dangerous,” Brownlee reported.

  “I don't think it will be, either. Some of these compounds actually cancel out others. The worst of it is the smell and the thickness of the smoke.” Heleen gingerly pushed herself upright. Her legs wobbled a little and Bain stepped up to support her again.

  “What about Dr. Frurin?” the security head asked.

  “Unless he fell into one of the viral cultures.... “A look of horror washed away what little color remained in Heleen's face. She slowly turned around and stared directly at the cabinets that hung open, displaying their empty shelves.