by Celia Kyle
When a loud alarm sounded before the message, Vende jumped. That meant a ship-wide announcement. A twist of anxiety deep in his guts assaulted him. Had the snowballing disasters finally turned into a catastrophe?
Whelon came on the line, his voice grave.
“All Preor are to report to their emergency stations. A roster system is being announced and all Preor must eventually report to medical. Do not congregate in common areas. You are to remain in quarters or your emergency stations. Scale Pox has been identified on the ship. Repeat, Scale Pox is active on the ship. Several Preor are affected. Please return to your designated areas, observe extreme hygiene measures and report to med bay in groups of ten for testing.”
Vende paused, deciding to head straight to med bay. He was a senior officer so they probably wanted to test him early, and he couldn’t be bothered to check the roster. Nothing would stop him from conducting his work.
As he navigated the halls, he realized his meeting of superior officers couldn’t happen now. There were no secondary officers ready to step into the roles and Vende knew the routines on the ship were going to simply fall apart. Nothing was to be done for it.
He hurried to med bay and was shocked by what he came upon. The large room with small cubicles practically overflowed with Preor. The surrounding rooms had been turned into quarantine areas. The Preor in the med bay were triaged based on their condition, and testing was being conducted in a sterile room across the hall.
He spied Rendan striding purposefully through the crowd, heading toward command.
Vende waved to him. “Where are you off to?”
Rendan’s face was grave. “Kozav tested positive. So many Preor are getting taken down by this thing. I’m taking over Kozav’s job and just about everyone else’s.”
“I understand. I was thinking we need to set up a shadow team, so the duties of running the ship are not forgotten. We had a big problem with the thrusters that I only got a chance to fix today.”
“That’s scary.” Rendan frowned and Vende nodded.
“There just aren’t enough of us to complete the tasks.”
Rendan sighed. “It’s only going to get worse. Scale Pox is so infectious.”
“Where did it come from? Surely, we didn’t bring any carriers with us. That would have been like suicide.”
“They opened up one of the sealed cargo bays yesterday,” Rendan said. “They think it survived on some equipment in there that came from the main aerie back on Preor.”
“Fucking lazy!” Vende snapped.
Rendan nodded and clapped Vende on the shoulder. “I must go. Good luck.” He hurried away, looking around at his fellows with a drawn, tired expression.
Vende put himself in line and waited for his test. He wasn’t worried. Scale Pox was quite rare. It was so deadly, disgusting, and painful that the Preor had a system set up to treat it as soon as it appeared. Walls and other surfaces were washed with strong chemicals to kill the disease, Preor were often injected with the medicines that weakened the illness, not quite as a vaccine but as a preventative measure. If the first few cases were isolated, no one else had anything to worry about. Vende wondered how long it had been since he’d had an inoculation. It had been a while, but he didn’t worry. His scales were as vibrant as ever and gleamed with health.
When he came through, he identified himself to the Preor acting as assistants for Whelon and went through into the sterile room. They scraped a few scales off his back and took some blood, directing him to the next room.
This was a tense place, and Vende could feel it the second he entered the room. Everyone in the space waited to hear their result. Vende wasn’t worried until several Preor who had come through after him were allowed to leave. When he saw Yazen coming toward him with his eyes down, Vende didn’t need to be told. It was all over Yazen’s face.
He had Scale Pox.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When the call went through the ship, warning all Preor about the Scale Pox infection, Dawn hadn’t heard because she was so deeply wrapped up in her work. She peered through a microscope, her gaze on twirling dots of microbes joining each other and swirling in circles like a frantic dance.
This was everything she had ever wanted in life. Not just raising and harvesting the plants but understanding them on a molecular level. All of life evolved through this basic process, and to Dawn, it was like being handed the keys to the universe.
When Carla grabbed her shoulder and pulled her away from the microscope, Dawn actually jumped, her mind so far away from the present.
“What’s the matter?” Dawn frowned when she noted Carla’s pale features.
“Didn’t you hear?” Carla asked and Dawn shook her head. She hadn’t heard anything for a while. She’d been so lost in the world of microbes.
“There’s been an outbreak of Scale Pox.” Grace strode up to the table. Even though she was making a great effort to remain calm, Dawn noted the fear in her eyes and her nervous fidgeting.
“What’s Scale Pox?” Obviously, it wasn’t good, but she needed details before she decided on a reaction.
“I’ve never seen it before. None of us have,” Grace answered her. “I only know about it because I met Kozav in an emergency medical department, and the Knowing gifted me with details of Preor anatomy right at the start. Contagious diseases must have featured in Kozav’s mind quite strongly because along with all the knowledge of Preor anatomy, I got a map of all their worst ailments.”
“They’re in my head too.” Carla put a hand to her temple. “Just far away. Like it was a course I did a long time ago and I need to brush up on the notes.”
Grace filled them in immediately. “Well, let me enlighten you—quickly!—because we have to get to our men. Scale Pox is caused by bacteria that especially like the warm, dark areas between scales. They multiply and feed on the flesh. They only like scale, not skin. If it goes unchecked, the Preor loses his scales and his wings.”
Carla gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. Dawn was affected by the news, but she knew Grace wasn’t done.
“So, they can’t shift, but then they get rid of the bugs, right?” Carla asked hopefully.
Grace shook her head. “The process of the bacteria eating away the scales starts quickly but then slows. The wounds become infected. Scales and membranes come off and it’s not in a nice, dry fall of broken cells. It’s in black, putrefied tissue. The burrowing bacteria create instant septic infection.”
Now Dawn’s heart twisted in her chest. She knew what Grace was going to say next.
“By the time, the Preor’s wings fall off, he’s as good as dead,” Grace said softly. “No one has ever survived it once the bacteria take hold. The Preor males are the strongest physical systems I have ever seen, never mind their incredible will. If anyone could survive an infection and slow recovery of this nature, it would be them. But these bacteria work with an aggressiveness we can’t imagine on Earth.”
“How is it treated?” Dawn asked, her voice soft.
Grace looked at her with pained eyes. “A medicine can help boost their immunity and help them fight off the bacteria. With a full-time IV of fluids and antibiotics, this should clear their system of the infection and give their body the help it needs to kill off the bacteria. Once they are gone some very uncomfortable scraping and cleaning can be done to aid in healing.”
She stopped suddenly, looking down at the floor. She looked so sad Dawn could barely speak.
Dawn knew just from looking at Grace’s face what the problem was. “We don’t have any. Do we, Grace? None of this medicine?”
Grace raised her eyes to Dawn’s and shook her head. Dawn’s stomach did a huge flip and she put her hand on it as if to keep it still.
Grace put her face into her hands and burst into sobs. Carla put an arm around her.
“It’s okay,” Carla patted her gently on the back. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not!” Grace screamed, her fists clenched by her sides. �
��We may have replenished some minor treatments, but we’re out of Scale Pox medicine. We are out of all antibiotics!”
The full weight of this sunk into Carla and Dawn. When their eyes met, Dawn was sure the three of them were going to collapse into a wailing puddle.
“Penicillin, gentamycin, doxy,” Grace chanted. “Those are the strongest antibiotics humanity has, and they could not heal a single scale on a Preor. They just aren’t strong enough.”
Dawn slowly began to panic. Now that she was thinking about him, she realized Vende’s strong presence was not waiting for her at the edge of her consciousness. She could sense he was still present but far too quiet.
“Let’s go the med bay!” She jumped up, not waiting for the other women as she jogged toward the door.
“I can teleport you, Dawn.”
“Yes please, Penelope.” Dawn stood still for two seconds, waiting impatiently for the light to clear so she could keep moving. When she appeared in the hall near med bay, she was shocked to see the amount of activity. Grace and Carla appeared just before her, and with the arrogance of a qualified Emergency Department doctor, Grace shoved past everyone, holding tightly to Dawn and Carla’s hands as she strode along with her back straight and chin high.
When they reached the table that had been hastily put at the door, Grace tried to walk right past only to be stopped by the young Preor waiting there. “Sorry, ma’am. No one is allowed in.”
Grace drew herself up even taller. “Do you know who I am?” she asked scathingly.
“I do. No admittance.”
“But I’ll be working on this as a medical advisor—”
“I doubt that, ma’am. No admittance.”
For a minute they stared at each other. Grace’s eyes burned while the young Preor shrugged apologetically.
“Yazen!” screamed Grace. “Whelon!”
She kept yelling until Whelon appeared on the other side of the plastic sheet hanging across the door. “Grace. Knock it off. I can’t come out and you can’t come in.”
“It’s that bad?” Grace asked, her hand near her throat.
“Yes. It’s that bad. Have you got any medicine for us?”
Grace shook her head, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes.
“We’ve sent to the surface for things,” Whelon said quietly. It didn’t matter. Those drugs wouldn’t be strong enough to help the Preor and they all knew it.
“Whelon.” Grace’s voice was thick and strained. “Where’s my mate?”
Whelon’s face twisted. He gestured with one hand. “Come down the hall to the fourth door. I’ll meet you there.”
The women grabbed each other’s hands, heading down the hall together. Grace was hurting Dawn’s hand, but she didn’t mind. She could see Grace was on a knife’s edge.
Dawn looked around the room as they entered, expecting it to be like a waiting room. Instead it was bare and featureless with no chairs or furniture of any kind. On the far wall was a window with a plastic sheet over it.
“Oh, God.” Grace covered her mouth with her hand.
On the other side of the plastic, Kozav appeared. Grace let out a cry and ran to the window.
“Don’t touch it, Grace!” screamed Penelope. “You could spread it! Don’t fucking touch anything!”
Grace stopped right in front of the plastic, her hands gathered at her chest. She shook her head as tears poured down her cheeks. “Let me in,” she moaned. “Let me be with you, Kozav.”
Kozav shook his head. “Then you couldn’t go to the lab to make the medicine. I know you can do it, Grace. You’re the only one who can.”
Grace suddenly turned away, putting her head in her hands. Clearly it was too painful to look at Kozav and not be able to touch him.
“Rendan,” Carla croaked.
Kozav shook his head. “He’s okay, Carla. He’s out on rounds. The ship is in chaos and he’s the only senior officer left who’s not infected.”
The only senior officer left?
“Vende!” Dawn cried. She didn’t need to ask. She already knew in her heart.
Vende came forward much slower than Kozav. His glossy dark hair was dull, and his proud blue wings trailed down his back like a cloak that had been torn to shreds. Dawn couldn’t take her eyes off him, even as her eyes filled with tears and ran down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, my mate. My lovely,” he whispered. “I’ve known you and that would be enough for me if I had to take my final flight right now.”
“It’s not enough for me!” Dawn screamed, running at the sheet with her fists up as if she meant to tear it down.
“Don’t fucking touch anything!” Penelope screamed. “Whelon, we’re going to have to electrify this thing.”
Dawn stood as close to the sheet as she dared, looking into Vende’s eyes. He raised a hand as if to touch her cheek. “Go to your garden, dear Dawn. You can help us. I know you can.”
Molecules danced behind her eyes. Tiny compounds in unique little shapes that could be joined to make new ones. She could do this. She just didn’t know if she could do it in time.
“Do we have samples of Scale Pox?” Dawn snapped out, not caring who answered only that someone did.
“Yes,” Grace said softly. “We can get some fresh ones too, just in case it’s a different strain.”
Dawn smiled, trying to give Vende hope, but he didn’t smile back. He just turned to head back into the medical wing with one hand on the wall to support himself. Dawn knew how weak he must be to hold onto the wall.
Then, she took a good look at his back for the first time. The shock was so great her knees went weak and she almost collapsed on the floor.
His beautiful blue scales were falling off. Just flaking away and leaving a scatter of midnight in his wake. The supports for his wings were flat, hanging in loose pieces of skin that sagged down, drawn by the weight of the wings they could no longer support.
Worst of all, great tears had appeared in multiple places across his back. They were leaking thick black and yellow liquid.
Dawn stumbled away. She had to go. She had to go now.
But leaving her mate was the hardest thing she had ever done.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Vende sat on the edge of the bed he had been given, leaning over with his eyes closed. He had never been in such pain before. He’d just had to walk away from his mate because he knew he couldn’t hold his own weight. He slid forward, almost falling off the bed, yet caught himself and tried to sit up straight. When the scales on his back pulled against the open wounds, he screamed and almost blacked out.
Firm hands grabbed him around the shoulders. Someone was trying to push him onto the bed. “Get him on his front—yes, that’s it. You take his leg that way—”
Vende roared in frustration, throwing himself forward. He landed on his feet and threw his arms out, intending to spread his wings and scream against anyone who thought they could hold him down. But the moment Vende flung his arms out, it felt like his back was being rent open by fiery strands. They ripped, dug, cut, and ached all at once. A horrible scream rang through the med bay and the only thing Vende felt was a horrible impact when he hit the cold tiled floor.
“Vende?” He heard Yazen speak to him but could not answer. The floor was cool and soothing on his cheek. He must have a fever.
“Don’t touch him!” Whelon said from nearby. “Vende, can you hear me?”
Vende tried to speak but couldn’t. He sweated and felt far too hot, even if his limbs seemed cold.
This is bad.
The others moved his limbs so they could look at his back. They had called for help to get him off the floor and that was a good thing because he was sure he couldn’t get up himself. Whelon and Yazen murmured over him, but he was not able to make out the words. He drifted in an in-between grey world where nothing was real except the pain.
My pain. Me and my pain.
He chanted this like a mantra, one of the ways a Preor trained himself to kee
p fighting even when gravely injured.
The pain is not your enemy. It is not holding you back. It is your friend. It is giving you the strength you need to fight.
Cool hands grabbed him by the arms and hoisted him up. He tried to scream but only a gasp slipped out. Then the bed was under him as they tried to lay him down on his front. A needle pricked his arm and he came fully awake.
“What is that?” He glared at Yazen, who stood nearby with the needle.
“It’s just painkiller, Vende,” Yazen said sadly. “A bit of anti-inflammatory and strong painkiller.”
“I don’t want anything.” Vende threw off the Preor who had helped him lie flat. He maneuvered himself onto the bed into a sitting position and let himself pant in long, uneven gasps.
“Vende…” Whelon came closer with a few items in a small dish. “Let me treat you. I can’t do much, but I can help. You’re strong. If you take the human drugs and keep your back clean, you might live.”
Vende looked up into Whelon’s eyes and gave him a hard glare. Whelon looked away. They both knew that with or without treatment, it didn’t look good for Vende or any other Preor on this ship.
Whelon stepped forward again.
Vende put a hand up weakly. “No. Treat the others. Use whatever medicine we have for them.”
Whelon stood, vaguely looking at his needles and dressings and then back at Vende. “You’re a senior officer. I have to treat you,” Whelon said firmly, as if that settled it.
Vende shook his head. “As a senior officer it is my duty to sacrifice treatment for myself and use the resources for the other warriors.” Vende swayed in place, feeling so ill he might fall off the bunk again. He steadied himself against the mattress and hissed air through his teeth as he fought to sit up.
“Vende,” Whelon whispered.
“No.” Vende managed to look up and lock eyes with Whelon. They glared at each other for a few minutes until the healing master collected his instruments and walked away with Yazen.