Eternity Row Page 5

  And Reever could end up with an abdomen full of extra kidneys. “Jesus Christ.”

  My boss tried to look sympathetic. “I must perform more tests at once. I must also discuss the scan results with Duncan.”

  I was tempted to ask him not to until we found out why Reever had grown another kidney, but my conscience kicked me, hard. No more secrets between us. “Let me tell him. In the meantime, check your equipment and repeat all the tests.”

  “I will, but this is not my area of expertise.” Squilyp rubbed a membrane over his eyes. “We have to get you out of there, Cherijo.”

  “I have to prove I didn’t deliberately shoot Dhreen first.”

  I spent most of the night thinking about how I could do that. The next morning, I pulled up specifications for the laser welder. From what I read, the tool could easily be calibrated to be used as a weapon, but was generally employed at a much lower setting.

  I signaled the chief engineer on duty in central launch bay.

  “Dhreen said he needed to cap off this emitter he was working on. What does that mean?”

  “That would involve disabling the exterior port and severing the power relays, Healer.” The older Jorenian male gave me a sympathetic look. “We are all most distressed over your present circumstances.”

  “I’ll be fine. Why would he have to disable it?”

  “That particular unit was found to be malfunctioning during the shuttle’s routine maintenance sweep.” The engineer consulted another screen. “Conductor control between the power cells and the converger showed some random pulse instability.”

  “He was working on a pulse emitter.” When he nodded, I sat back. “Another one of Xonea’s new war toys, I suppose.”

  “It is not suitable for young ones, Healer.”

  “I don’t imagine it is.” I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to keep from screaming with frustration. “What’s the difference between getting shot with a tool and getting fried by a weapon?”

  “Well, the laser welder employs concentrated light, while the emitter utilizes sound and energy.”

  What had Squilyp said during surgery? Acoustic inhomogeneity refracted the blast wave, judging by the tissue displacement, “They’d create different wounds, wouldn’t they?”

  “They would.” He smiled at me. “Data on the specific disparities may be available from the medical database.”

  “I bet there is.” I grinned back. “Thank you, engineer.”

  I terminated the signal, tapped into the medical system, and found a dozen cases of injuries resulting from both pulse fire and using the laser welder. Dhreen’s injuries showed a distinct pattern of displacement that was only possible if he’d been hit by pulse fire-not a laser.

  Which cleared me completely.

  I wrote a summary report, then removed the recording disc, and went to the barrier. “Guards? Would one of you mind taking a little present to the Captain for me?”

  Qonja Torin appeared in front of the web, and took the disc before I could yank my hand back in. “Allow me, Healer.”

  “Hey!” I swiped at him, but he stepped out of reach.

  “I will see that the Captain reviews it as soon as possible.” He turned and left.

  Both guards, much to my disappointment, refused to shoot him in the back.

  Qonja apparently kept his promise and delivered the disc to Xonea, who personally came down to let me out of the brig. My ClanBrother was, understandably, apologetic.

  “I cannot make exceptions for any member of the crew.” As he spoke, his hands moved through a half dozen gestures of regret and sorrow. “Even my own ClanSister.”

  I felt I had to rub it in a little. “The same ClanSister who bailed you out of a detainment cell once, as I recall.”

  “I would have taken your place, if I could have,” he said, sounding wounded.

  “Just do me a favor and remember this the next time I’m accused of murder, okay?” I swept past him and entered the gyrlift.

  My first stop was at my quarters, where I found Alunthri baby-sitting my daughter. Marel had refused to go to school, and now sat in a miserable huddle on the sofa, clutching Jenner in her arms.

  “Hey, is this any way to celebrate my parole?”

  Alunthri grinned. “Cherijo!”

  “Mama!” Marel slid off the cushions.

  “Mrrrow!” Jenner jumped down and sauntered over to sniff at my footgear. About time. Indignant blue eyes glared up at me. She’s had me in that death grip all morning.

  “Miss me?” I bent to scratch Jenner’s ears and catch my daughter as she got to me. “Hi, sweetie.”

  “Mama.” She patted my face and head with her little hands. “CanUncaw Xonea’s nod mad ad you anymore?”

  “No, honey, now he’s mad at himself.” I picked her up and turned to Alunthri. “Reever draft you into doing this?”

  Alunthri’s pointed ears flicked, and it looked a little uneasy. “Duncan signaled me earlier this morning. He mentioned he had to talk to someone.”

  “In Medical?” Alunthri nodded. “Marel.” I put my daughter down and crouched in front of her. “Would you stay here with Alunthri while I go stop Daddy from messing up my work?”

  “You come back, Mama.” It wasn’t a request.

  “I will.”

  I didn’t stop to signal Squilyp, but went straight from my quarters to Medical. Good thing, too. I could sense trouble brewing before I went through the door panel.

  Inside, the Senior Healer was the only thing keeping my husband out of the critical care unit. It may have been because Reever’s fist held him suspended a half foot off the deck. My husband was ignoring the two security guards holding their weapons aimed at his head, and Qonja, who was evidently trying to reason with him.

  Only one person could reason with Reever when he got like this.

  “Cherijo.” Squilyp had never sounded more relieved. “Thank the gods.”

  Reever turned around. “Xonea released you?”

  “I proved my innocence. Put the Omorr down.”

  Slowly, my husband returned my boss to the deck.

  “Thank you.” Sometimes I didn’t know who was worse-Marel or her father. “Squilyp, I’m sorry. Reever, get on an exam table. And you.” I planted a hand on Qonja’s chest and shoved him out of my way. “You’re relieved of duty. Get out.”

  His friendly smile evaporated. “You can’t do that.”

  “Squilyp? Got a problem with this?” My boss shook his head, and I beckoned to security. “Escort this man to his quarters. Or an open airlock. Whatever’s convenient.”

  The guards exchanged a glance, shouldered their weapons, and left, guiding the seething psych resident between them.

  “I don’t require an exam.” Reever was staring at Dhreen through the clear plas wall in the same way he would a small bug he wanted to squash.

  The Senior Healer straightened his tunic and resumed his usual expression of grave dignity. “I’ve been trying to convince him to do exactly that.”

  “You just have to use the right words.” I went over and took one of Reever’s hands in mine. Tenderly, I pressed it to my cheek, making him focus on me. “Duncan. Sweetheart. I’m okay. It’s over. Now get on that exam table before I tranquilize you.”

  Reluctantly, he turned away from his intended victim. “I don’t want to be examined.”

  “You mean you’re not going to let me expose your magnificent body and make all the other girls jealous? I’ll cry.” I led him over and tugged on his sleeve. “Tunic off, please. Squilyp, you repeat those tests?”

  “Twice. Results were identical, both times.”

  “Okay.” I went on to explain the findings to Reever as we prepped him for a thorough examination.

  When I was finished, he said, “You didn’t want to tell me.”

  “Not really, but I know better.” He’d taught me on Terra that we were partners, in every sense of the word. And partners didn’t hold out on each other. “In return, you ca
n do me a favor and leave Dhreen alone.”

  His eyes went from dark green to crystal gray. “I want to ascertain the level of his memory loss for myself.”

  He wanted to pound him into the deck.

  “Duncan, give it a rest. He’s not faking it.”

  “He acquired this amnesia before you could learn about the conditions on Oenrall.” His mouth became a thin line. “That seems very convenient.”

  “I’m sure his memory will return in time.” I calibrated the table scanner. “If it doesn’t, I’ll go down to Oenrall by myself. My immune system can handle anything Dhreen’s people dish out.”

  Squilyp prepared the biopsy tray. “I don’t think it’s wise, Cherijo.” He gloved before placing the monitor leads on Duncan’s chest. “The Oenrallian has many connections within the League. There may be no health crisis at all.”

  “No. Whatever this thing is, it was more important than making money to him.” I thought of how he’d bargained with my creator, trading his services as a spy for Joseph’s promise of aid. “More important than our friendship.”

  “And Jxinok?”

  He was referring to my promise to stop by Maggie’s homeworld, which was supposed to be in the same quadrant. “We still need to work on that one.” I gloved and masked, then caught that silent, masculine communication thing my husband and my boss did over my head. “What?”

  “I don’t trust Dhreen,” Duncan said.

  “Nor do I trust this Maggie person,” Squilyp added for good measure.

  “Guys. Guys.” I activated the scanner arm, which slowly began mapping out Reever’s internal organs. “None of this is a big deal. I find out what the problem is on Dhreen’s world, and we fix that-I owe it to Dhreen. We go to Maggie’s world-assuming we can find the damn thing-and see what little present she left for me. Then we outrun all the mercenaries and lizards and find a nice, quiet non-League world to settle down on. Piece of cake.”

  “You are not indebted to Dhreen,” Squilyp said. “And I am not too sure we can outrun the Hsktskt.”

  “He got us off Terra, and I gave him my word.” I moved over to the other side of the table, and inspected the long, hair-thin biopsy needle. “As for the Hsktskt, playing war games with the League will keep them tied up. Now, shall we find out why Reever has cornered the kidney market, or chat all day?”

  Since my hands were steady, but my stomach wasn’t-I’d been forced to operate on Reever back on Terra, and twice had been more than enough-I had Squilyp take the biopsy. As soon as he extracted the tissue sample from the budding organ, I prepared a slide and popped it in the electroniscopic unit.

  “Here we go.” I peered in the scope, and saw what appeared to be healthy, fully functioning kidney cells. I stepped back, then fed the data into the diagnostic unit. A moment later, the screen confirmed my diagnosis.

  “According to known medical science, it’s absolutely, positively a functional kidney.” I went over to the table, dressed the small biopsy puncture, and handed Reever his tunic. “Which is improbable, if not completely impossible.”

  Squilyp hopped over to the scanner and had a look. “I can’t see any formative abnormalities. Even the arterial connections are exactly where they should be.”

  “That in itself belongs on the impossible list.” Seeing Duncan’s frown, I explained, “It’s not just that you grew an extra kidney, honey. It’s hooked itself up to your circulatory system, and organs don’t do that without me or Squilyp doing a lot of cutting and sewing.”

  The Omorr lifted his eyes from the scope. “Nothing but surgery can do this.”

  I wished I could feel as certain. “Run a microcellular repeat on both kidney samples. I’m particularly interested in the bio-organic structure of the right side cells.”

  Duncan finished fastening his tunic. “I will see Dhreen now.”

  It finally hit me, why he was so determined to have a go at the Oenrallian. “You want to try to link with him.”

  He eyed the isolation unit. “You can stay in the room, if you like.”

  “Oh”-I folded my arms-“I’m definitely staying.”

  The Omorr frowned at my husband. “His condition is extremely serious, Duncan. I do not want him agitated.”

  “The minute he agitates, I’ll kick him out,” I assured my boss.

  When we entered the critical care unit, I saw Dhreen was sleeping. Adaola, a former nurse and now one of Squilyp’s surgical interns, was changing his dressing. She saw Reever behind me and immediately stepped between him and the berth.

  “He’s going to be on his best behavior.” I nudged him. “Right, sweetheart?”

  “I will not injure him.”

  The intern stepped aside, but stayed close enough to intervene if necessary. I picked up Dhreen’s chart and reviewed his vitals, which showed no deterioration, but no improvement, either.

  “Will he die?”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.” I looked up and saw Reever had turned completely white. He’d endured slavery, torture, and endless deprivations, yet he still got squeamish about something like a draining chest wound. “Let Adaola finish dressing his chest, or you’re going to throw up.”

  We let the intern complete her work, then Duncan took hold of Dhreen’s hand. He was still a little pale, but seemed calmer and more in control.

  “Dhreen.” He bent over the berth as the Oenrallian’s eyelids flickered, then opened. “Do you know where you are?”

  “In a hospital.” Drugs made his voice slur the words. “On a ship.”

  “Think of the last thing you remember,” Duncan said, then he went still and his eyes lost their focus.

  I monitored Dhreen’s vitals, but there were no changes beyond a slight elevation in his blood pressure. Reever stayed silent and motionless for a few minutes, then placed Dhreen’s hand back on the linens and straightened. The Oenrallian smiled a little as he drifted into sleep.

  I let out a breath my lungs had refused to release. “Well?”

  “His thought patterns are a jumble of disordered fragments.” He turned and took my hand. “You were right; he is not making a pretense of this. I apologize.”

  I made an impatient sound. “Apologize later. What did you see?”

  “Nothing that made sense. Discarded toys. Oenrallians dancing on a street. Rooms filled with empty beds.”

  Before I could interpret any of that, there was a huge boom outside the starboard hull panel, and we were thrown to the deck.

  The main medical display chimed an emergency signal. “Alert. Exterior hull damage to levels nine, ten, and eleven. All crew members to engagement-response positions.”

  “I’ll check on Alunthri and Marel on my way to Communications.” Reever pulled me close for a brief, hard kiss, then looked into my eyes. “Be careful.”

  I pressed my hand against his cheek. “You, too.”

  As the door panel opened, I heard Squilyp shouting, “Secure Yarek and the other patients! Cheiijo-“

  I stuck my head out. “Give me a minute in here.”

  Dhreen’s eyes fluttered open and widened as I bent over to grab the berth restraints. “What happened?”

  “The ship is under attack.” I stripped away his top linens and removed three Lok-Teel from various parts of his body-the housekeeping mold evidently had taken a real liking to the Oenrallian-and adjusted the tilt of the berth. “I’m going to put you in sleep suspension, to protect your wounds.”

  He tugged halfheartedly at the straps. “You’ll rouse me when it’s through?”

  “I might even bring you breakfast in bed.” I positioned the suspension shroud over his face. “Don’t worry, this feels just like taking another nap.”

  “All I do is sleep.”

  “We can swap jobs anytime you want.” I calibrated a syrinpress. “Now close your eyes and relax.”

  Once Dhreen was hibernating, I went out to help Squilyp with securing the rest of our patients and getting the staff prepared to triage incoming casualtie
s. I paused long enough to signal Alunthri and check on Marel myself.

  “Duncan is on his way, and I’ll be down as soon as I can,” I told the Chakacat, and reassured my daughter as best I could. “Listen to Alunthri, sweetie, and I’ll see you soon.”

  “I nod ‘fraid, Mama.” Marel showed me a wrist unit. “CanUncaw Xonea give me dis.”

  ClanUncle was going to get his large blue jaw broken by me, as soon as this was over. “That’s great, baby.” When she wandered far enough away from the screen, I added, “Alunthri, get that thing off her, if you would.”

  As more blasts hit the ship, we began setting up as many empty berths as the wards could hold. I started one of the nurses on the blood synthesizer, and another four prepping ortho and wound instrument trays.

  “Cherijo.” Squilyp waved me over to the main display, where he had punched up an exterior view of the Sunlace. “It doesn’t look like a League ship. Are they mercenaries?”

  “No.” I watched as the fast, heavily armed alien star vessel came about and flew toward the starboard side of the ship. “It’s a Hsktskt raider, gstek class.”

  I grabbed the console as it fired another displacer salvo at the Sunlace, sending more shock waves through the hull.

  The Omorr rocked on his foot. “Obviously not a scout vessel.”

  I pushed a handful of hair out of my face. “What is Xonea doing? We’ve got to transition out of here.”

  Before I could signal Ship’s Operational and demand to know why we were sitting around letting the lizards blast holes in our hull, a brief, high-pitched screech blared through the air.

  I clapped my hands over my ears. “Ah!”

  Squilyp, whose auditory membranes were ten times as acute as mine, made a horrible sound as he doubled over in agony. A couple of nurses rushed over to help me support him.

  If that wasn’t bizarre enough, my daughter appeared out of nowhere, ducked between my legs, and grabbed the edge of the Omorr’s tunic. Her small hand shook as she touched the pink and white streaked blood draining from Squilyp’s ears. “Uncwip!”

  “I am well, child,” he said, taking her hand in one of his membranes.

  “Let go, Squilyp.” When he did, I grabbed Marel and held her for a moment. Alunthri was nowhere to be seen. “Baby, how did you get in here?”