Eternity Row Page 9

  Ilona had nearly finished off her soldier by then, and looked bewildered as the simulation disappeared. Slowly, she wiped some sweat from her face with the back of her hand. “Agreed.” She tossed the sword aside.

  “What happens now?” I asked Salo.

  “Darea will initiate the challenge of agility.”

  I expected a couple more simulated killers to appear, but the environome produced a pair of what looked like elaborate rose trellises that stretched from the floor to the upper deck, some twenty feet.

  “What are those things?”

  “Hatlakin. They must climb them.”

  My vocollar didn’t translate the Jorenian word, but I figured it was some sort of garden thing. Their homeworld was literally paved in a gazillion different types of flora. “Interesting.”

  The symmetrical silvery slats that formed the hatlakins’ diamond-shaped structure were pretty, but hardly any sort of a challenge. In fact, the slats were so close together even Marel could have climbed up one of them.

  “Let me guess.” I peered at the simulations. “Whoever gets to the top first, wins?”

  “There is more involved, Healer.”

  I saw what Salo meant when Darea and Ilona began climbing the trellises, and the innocuous silver slats began undulating as if they were melting. While both women hung on, pointed spikes of various sizes began extruding from the slats, directly at their hands, bodies, and feet.

  Ilona yelped as she changed handholds to avoid being stabbed. “Unfair!”

  “Then you must concede.” Darea grunted as a spike punctured one of her hands before she wrenched it free.

  “I will not.” The Terran girl began dodging the spikes, moving quickly toward the center portion of the trellis.

  If the spikes weren’t bad enough, the trellises began drooping over, twisting into strange shapes as if attempting to shake off the women.

  I leaned toward Salo. “And you use these things on Joren for what?”

  “Protecting HouseClan property.”

  Attack trellises. “No wonder nobody ever steals anything from you people.”

  Somehow Ilona proved more adept at avoiding the spikes, and slowly made her way up the length of the writhing hatlakin. When she reached the top, she was ahead of Darea by a couple of inches. She was also hanging completely upside down.

  “I prevail,” the Terran girl called out, and then dropped onto the deck as the trellises abruptly disappeared. She grimaced as she rubbed her side with a bloodied hand.

  “Does this mean they’re tied?” I asked Salo. He nodded, never taking his eyes off his bondmate. “You said there were three challenges.”

  “The final challenge is one of honor.”

  Darea and Ilona faced each other as a simulated crowd of children began to appear. Some were Terran, others Jorenian, and still others of alien species. All of them were shrieking.

  “You may make the first attempt,” Darea said to her opponent.

  “I don’t understand.” Confused, Ilona scanned the crowd of weeping children. The imager had produced over two hundred of them. “What must I do?”

  The Jorenian female spread her arms wide. “Comfort them.”

  I frowned and nudged Salo. “Baby-sitting is the final challenge?”

  “Honoring the young requires more than supervision.”

  Hesitantly, Ilona went to a Terran child, and awkwardly put her arms around her. “Shhh. Don’t cry.” She reached for another, stroking the small alien face. “It will be all right. Do you wish to hear the story of Yei who fought the Whirlwind? Would that not be pleasant?”

  The entire group of simulated children dissolved into even louder hysterics.

  “It is not fair.” Ilona stood up, clearly annoyed. “There are too many of them.”

  “The path is seldom fair.” Darea gave her a contemptuous look. “And there are never too many kin within the House.” She pushed Ilona aside, and strode to the center of the group. Once there, she clapped her hands once over her head. The explosive sound silenced the children’s weeping for a brief moment. “The Mother gives us the path. We walk it alone but we can journey together. Come, embrace your kin and offer comfort. Offer and receive what is needed.”

  Darea went to the nearest pair of children and turned them to each other, showing them how to put their limbs around each other. She repeated this, over and over, until the other children began to hug each other spontaneously. At last they were all smiling and whispering and holding each other.

  Ilona took a step back as the simulation ended and Darea came toward her. “No. I concede. You have won.”

  “We travel alone, Ilona Red Faun, until we Chose to journey with another.” Darea’s mouth flattened, but she bent down and briefly touched her brow to the Terran girl’s. “I honor your path. Honor mine, and you will never journey alone.”

  It was the most touching thing I’d ever seen. “You’re a lucky man, Salo.”

  He smiled at me, but his eyes never left his bondmate. “That I am, Cherijo.”

  I escorted both women to Medical to treat them for their various bruises and wounds. Darea remained stoic and silent throughout the treatment, then left with her bondmate, who was treating her as though she were made out of Ki-Anakaan porcelain.

  Ilona did not want me to examine her. I found out why when I bullied her onto an exam table and activated an abdominal scanner.

  “Mother of All Houses.” I didn’t bother to make an announcement. Judging by the evasive gaze, she already knew. “When were you planning to tell someone?” I yelled, tossing the scanner aside. “After Darea beat you to a pulp?”

  “It is none of your concern, patcher.”

  Through the faint red haze now occluding my vision, I watched Qonja approach. “Is something amiss, Doctor?” He jumped a little when I thrust her chart at him.

  “Figure it out, bright boy.” I would have thrown in some graphic instructions on what to do with the chart, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Ilona slip inside the critical care unit. “No, Ilona, don’t-“ I took off running.

  I found her kneeling beside Dhreen’s berth, speaking to him in a low, urgent voice. He appeared even more pallid than yesterday, but grinned when he saw me. “Hi, Doc. Who is this female? A new nurse?”

  “Why doesn’t he remember me now?” Ilona demanded.

  “I don’t know, but you have to go. Right now.” I took her by the arm and guided her toward to the door. “It’s okay, Dhreen. Let me return Ms. Red Faun to her berth, then I’ll be back.”

  “No.”

  The tone of his voice made us both turn around. His color had improved, but the look of disgust on his face was totally unexpected.

  “I remember who she is now.” He struggled to sit up. “She’s a liar.”

  “No, don’t do that. Wait.” I had to let go of Ilona to stop him from tearing out his chest tube. “Calm down.” I checked his monitors, which showed elevations in all his vital signs. I hit the nurse call button by the berth, then looked over my shoulder. “You, leave.”

  She ignored me and rushed back over to grab Dhreen’s hand. “I am not lying to you. I would never do that.”

  Where was the damn nurse? “He can’t take this kind of stress, Ilona. Get out of here!”

  “She says she is having my child.” He glared up at me. “Is it true?”

  I sighed. “Yes, she’s five weeks pregnant, Dhreen.”

  “Impossible.” Heat poured into his amber eyes, while bright orange painted swatches of temper over his cheekbones. Somehow he made a whisper sound like a bellow. “I’ve been sterile all my life.”

  “Stop saying that!” Ilona shrieked, clutching her abdomen. “This is your child, our child!”

  I gave up hitting the button and shouted, “Nurse! Get in here!”

  One of the ward nurses promptly appeared, and took the now-weeping Ilona out of the unit.

  “All right. She’s gone, now settle down.” I made note of his vital signs on his chart and
dropped it on the table beside his berth. It clattered loudly in the stillness of the unit. “How much of your memory has come back?”

  “Enough to know that Terran bitch is lying.”

  I didn’t know how to break it to him any other way than with complete honesty. “Listen, I scanned the fetus two minutes ago. Half of the baby’s DMA is Oenrallian.”

  He closed his eyes, and some of the hectic color left his face. “I told you, I can’t have children.”

  “You’re the only one of your kind on the ship, Dhreen. There’s no other Oenrallian who could have gotten that girl pregnant.”

  He made a weak gesture with one hand. “Repeat the test, Doc.”

  I glanced out at Ilona, huddled on her berth. “I don’t think-“

  “Repeat the test!” he shouted, then started coughing.

  “Fine, you calm down, and I’ll run the test again.” I dialed up a mild sedative on my syrinpress and injected the drug into his infuser line. “If you’re wrong, you know you’re going to owe that girl a pretty big apology.”

  “I’m not wrong.” His voice grew thick as the drug took effect. “None of us can have them.”

  “None of who can have what?”

  “Children.” He let out a long, shuddering sigh. “My people are sterile.”

  I left a sedated Dhreen with a nurse on constant monitor, gave instructions to another to keep Ilona out of his unit, and signaled Squilyp.

  “Sorry to wake you up, but I’ve got to contact Oenrall.” I explained the incident with Dhreen, and repeated what he’d told me. “If there’s a pathogen present on his homeworld that’s causing this, we need to know before we sojourn down there.”

  He smothered a yawn with his gildrells. “There are no indications on any of the available databases that his species has suffered mass sterility.”

  “Maybe they don’t want anyone to know,” I said. “No matter how long lived they are, this kind of thing means eventual and total extinction.”

  “An amnesiac is not a reliable source of information,” the Omorr said. “Did you scan his reproductive system to verify his claim?”

  “Yep. Here, take a look at the results.” I downloaded the scan data to his terminal. “His sperm count is so low it barely registers. The fact that Ilona got pregnant falls into the miraculous category of conception.”

  “Very well.” He rubbed his brow ridges. “Advise the Captain before you signal Oenrall, and be as tactful as possible when you speak to his people.”

  “You know me. Dr. Diplomacy.”

  I sent my next signal to Xonea, who also thought Dhreen was probably delusional, but approved my request. Finally, I had Communications send a direct relay to Dhreen’s homeworld, and was routed through a number of automated systems before a real Oenrallian face appeared on my screen.

  “Greetings.” He gave me a rather dreamy smile. “I am Plaak, planetary communications officer.”

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Cherijo Torin, a healer serving on the Jorenian star vessel Sunlace.” I told him about Dhreen, and went through the explanation for a third time, adding, “It would help us treat him if we could confirm what he’s told us about your people.”

  “He speaks of the wanting condition,” Plaak said.

  I moved closer to the vid screen. “I beg your pardon, the wanting what condition?”

  “The wanting condition. That is all we call it.”

  “Okay.” I pursed my lips. “Can you transmit the complete medical data on this condition to my ship?”

  He looked away for a moment, then gave me another slow smile. “No, that is not permitted.”

  His languid, nonchalant attitude was really starting to bug me. “Then can you tell me about it?”

  “I’m not a physician.”

  “In your words will be fine.” For now, anyway.

  “It began one hundred revolutions ago.” He made an airy gesture. “Our people simply stopped having children. Now there are no more left.”

  Maybe he was intoxicated. “No children have been born on your homeworld since this wanting condition showed up?”

  “That is correct.”

  “Everyone’s reproductive system suddenly shut down overnight? Males and females?” He nodded, and I rubbed my palms against my trousers. “What is your current population, Plaak?”

  “One moment.” He checked something, then turned back to the screen. “At the last world census, two billion, five hundred and forty-three million, seven hundred and thirty-three thousand, nine hundred and twelve.”

  Oenrall had too large a population to have suffered long-term effects of a limited gene pool. It didn’t make sense. Two billion plus people simply didn’t spontaneously lose their ability to proliferate. Not unless they’d been subjected to serious planetary-scale radiation. Or I was getting the data from a less than reliable source.

  I picked the more realistic of the two. “Are you sure about this, sir?”

  He shrugged. “Why would I lie?”

  Most species went through fertile and infertile periods during their development, but individual age was generally the determining factor. “Has there been any widespread environmental contamination on Oenrall? You know-industrial waste, biotech weapons fallout, that sort of thing?”

  Another yawn, one he didn’t bother to cover. “Our people don’t pollute our resources, or engage in warfare.”

  Maybe it was part of the Oenrallian life cycle. “Has it ever happened before?” At his blank look, I added, “In the history of your planet, have your people ever experienced mass reproductive problems?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  I dredged up one memory of reading a report on certain types of solar radiation, the unexpected increase of which had wiped out a number of inhabited planets. “What about the other life-forms on Oenrall? How are the nonsentients doing?”

  “The wanting condition only affects my species.”

  Cross out the usual sources, which left only a few unpleasant possibilities. Genetic mutation. Plague. Other forms of natural annihilation. “May I petition your government to have the medical data on this condition sent to my ship?”

  “No.” He seemed a little annoyed. “I’ve answered all your questions, haven’t I?”

  That he had. Now I only had a thousand more to ask. “Perhaps I should speak to another physician. Would that be possible?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked away again. “No, there are none available to speak to you now.”

  I ground my molars together. Diplomacy was getting me nowhere. Maybe telling them about Ilona’s pregnancy would. “Would you ask one to signal me as soon as possible? I have a female passenger who is pregnant with an Oenrallian child.”

  He didn’t jump for joy. He chuckled. “Sure you do.”

  “I’ll transmit my medical data, if you need proof.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary.” He obviously didn’t believe me. “You want anything else?”

  Besides a blunt object to use on his head? “No, that’s all for now. Thank you for your... assistance.” I terminated the signal, and sat back to mull over what I’d learned.

  I found myself pulling up the data on Dhreen’s species, and checking the average life span. In both genders, it ranged between two hundred and fifty to three hundred revolutions.

  Which meant the people of Oenrall only had two hundred years left before they became extinct.

  PART Two: Persuasions

  CHAPTER SIX

  Remnants of Battle

  I temporarily put aside the problem on Oenrall and went back to working on a way to keep Dhreen’s liver functioning. There was little I could do without hard data, and I got the impression the physicians on his homeworld weren’t in any rush to consult with me.

  The Lok-Teel had actually been helping Dhreen’s failing liver by removing toxins from his blood, and more. After I read through some unusual notes on his chart, I called the ward nurse who made them into Squilyp’s office.

  Savetka, a new
addition to the staff, seemed a little nervous as she stood before the desk. “How may I be of assistance, Healer?”

  I held up Dhreen’s chart. “You recommend we investigate using the Lok-Teel for wound management. Why?”

  “They seem to sense what needs to be done.” She shifted her weight and dropped her gaze to the deck. “Initially, I noted how they were drawn to the patient’s surgical site whenever I changed his dressing. Then the patient dislodged the chest drain, which I discovered shortly after during my hourly monitor. I found a Lok-Teel adhered to the drain site. There was no fluid buildup, and his vitals improved greatly over the course of the remainder of my shift.” She met my gaze.

  “If I have exceeded my authority with this recommendation, Healer, I would ask your pardon.”

  “Exceed your authority anytime you like, Savetka.” I got up and handed her the chart. “I’d like you to work with the surgical residents and compose a treatment schedule using Lok-Teel application for direct wound drainage.”

  Her eyes rounded. “To initiate therapy?”

  “Uh-huh. I also want your recommendations on how the therapy can be used for other postsurgical patients. You’ll need to set up some trial runs, see if your idea works on other types of wounds. Arrange a testing schedule with the residents, and copy your findings to me and the Senior Healer.”

  She seemed dazed as she cradled the chart between her big hands. “Yes, Healer.”

  “One more thing.” I gave her a megawatt grin. “Excellent work, nurse.”

  Duncan was waiting up for me when I came off duty, and Marel’s room was dark. I checked the late hour on the wall terminal and nearly groaned as I recalled his request from the morning.

  “Sorry.” I went over to kiss him, and collapsed on the sofa beside him. “I had the best intentions in the world, until I started trying to reconstruct an organ.”

  “It does not matter.”

  But it did. I could tell. I sat up. “What did I do now?”

  His arm pulled me close, and one of his hands touched my face. The link was immediate and shook me. Not from the suddenness of Duncan in my thoughts, but the state of his emotions. He was beyond angry.

  I found something in our bedchamber last night. Reever pulled me from the sofa and led me into our room. Pretend we are retiring as usual.