“It’ll depend on Abelardus’s staff,” Leonidas grumbled. “If my idea doesn’t pan out, we’ll wait outside, and you can comm if you need help.”
“And you’ll charge the compound?”
“If needed.”
“I’ll let you know.” Alisa closed the comm, hoping that charging wouldn’t be necessary.
The security guard was frowning, but he eventually nodded and continued past Gutteridge and Alejandro. His frown deepened as he considered her. She had returned her weapons to their holsters, so they shouldn’t be blatant, but an attentive observer might notice the bulges. The guard did not speak to her. After his frown, he strode past, eventually disappearing around a corridor.
Gutteridge waved a hand at a security pad, and an unremarkable door unlocked and opened. The hoverboard clunked against the jamb, too wide to get through.
“Captain,” Alejandro said, waving her over.
“Oh,
this
is the reason you brought me? To help lift things?” More specifically, to help lift Durant. They could have tilted the hoverboard, but she didn’t think Durant was strapped that securely to it.
“You are the nurse,” he said.
Gutteridge walked inside, and lights came on. Apparently, he wasn’t going to help with the lifting. Alisa glimpsed a room full of daunting equipment as she and Alejandro removed the tarp and maneuvered Durant off the hoverboard. He wasn’t as heavily muscled as Abelardus, but he was tall enough that he made an awkward load. She grabbed his legs while Alejandro gripped him under the armpits, and they carried him to a contoured table in the center of the room. Probes and scanners and equipment Alisa could not name loomed all around the headrest, making it look like a high-tech torture chamber to her eye.
“Hide the hoverboard,” Alejandro said, moving to the equipment on one side of the table as soon as they had laid Durant down.
Gutteridge stepped up to a computer near the wall and pulled up a holo interface.
Alisa deactivated the hoverboard, tipped it on its side, and brought it into the room. She felt more like a lackey than a nurse. After a glance into the corridor, she started to close the door, but paused, the plaque on the wall next to it catching her eye. It read:
Observation and Scanning Room 3
.
Uh, that wasn’t what Gutteridge had called it when he had been on the comm. Did the hospital staff have another set of names for the various rooms? Or had he changed his mind about which one to take them to?
His back was to her as he murmured commands to the computer, occasionally swiping or pushing a holo button.
The room dimmed, and two red beams shot out of the machinery to scan either side of Durant’s head. Or rather,
inside
of his head, Alisa supposed. A large three-dimensional display appeared above him, an image of his brain projected into the air. At first, it was merely gray matter, but then colors came into play, highlighting different areas of the brain. Or perhaps the injured or anomalous areas of the brain.
“Interesting,” Alejandro said.
“Yes.” Gutteridge pointed to a green blob. “This doesn’t appear so much as physical damage as a remapping of some of the pathways.”
“A breaking of connections.”
“Or an altering of connections. Maybe that’s why the nanobots struggled with repairs. Everything is still physically there, but some of the neurons themselves have been altered, and signals have been shut down or redirected to…”
Alisa lost the gist of the conversation as it grew more complicated. She turned toward the door, her back to the men, and commed Leonidas, wanting to update him on the official room designation in case he and Alejandro did make it into the hospital.
“You see them?” Leonidas asked by way of greeting.
“See what? We’re in a windowless room in a windowless corridor.”
“The shuttles landing,” he said grimly.
“Whose shuttles? Police?”
“The Alliance army. Seven shuttles, two on the roof, two out back, one at the front entrance, and one at each tower. They’ll have enough men to guard all of the entrances and come in and search.”
Alisa flattened her hand to the wall. “For you or for me?”
“Both? Neither?”
“Somehow I doubt
neither
is the answer.”
“So do I,” Leonidas said. “Where are you now? Can you get out? It might be possible to escape if you do it in the next minute, before they have people on the ground.”
“We’re way more than a minute from an exit.” Alisa watched the men gesticulating at the brain display and poking through data scrolling next to it. “And I think we need more time with Durant in this machine.”
“All right. We’ll find a way in.”
“You better not. What’s that going to do? Get us all captured? Start a firefight in a hospital full of sick people? That’ll only make things worse.”
“We’ll find a way in,” Leonidas repeated firmly.
Alisa hesitated, wanting to argue against it, but if they were limited on time, what was the point in fighting? “We’re in
Observation and Scanning Room 3
on the fourteenth floor, between the west tower and the main hospital building.”
“Understood.”
The channel closed.
Alisa turned toward the men. She hated to interrupt them, but they needed to know what was happening. Since Gutteridge had been good enough to help them, she definitely should give him a chance to disappear before the military stormed in.
“It will be an interesting challenge,” Gutteridge said, stepping back from the computer and the table. “I’ll have a couple of neurosurgeon colleagues help, and we’ll come up with something.”
“That’s not necessary,” Alejandro said distractedly, his gaze still toward the data. “He’s my patient, and it’s not safe for him to stay here. I’ll copy the file and come up with a solution on my own.” He seemed to be doing just that, preparing to send the data to his personal account.
“On that ship you told me about? Better to leave him here. Besides, I’m afraid you won’t have the freedom to act for long.”
Finally, Alejandro looked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a wanted man, Alejandro Dominguez. And so is your captain.” Gutteridge glanced at Alisa. “I hope you’ll forgive me, but I wish to keep my esteemed position here in the hospital and the community. I have a wife here, children.”
“So you set up a trap for us?” Alejandro asked in disbelief, glaring at Gutteridge through Durant’s floating brain scan. “Why didn’t you just say that you couldn’t help?”
Gutteridge lifted a shoulder. “I wanted to see your patient. His case sounded interesting.”
“
Interesting
.”
“I’ve heard of Starseer attacks, of course, but this seems unique, or at least like something that hasn’t been used in a long time. I scanned the medical database and found something similar mentioned from a few centuries ago, during the Order Wars.” Gutteridge tilted his head to the side. “Who attacked you, and why?”
When his attention was back on Alejandro, Alisa inched her hand toward the stun gun.
“None of your damned business,” Alejandro growled, stepping toward the door. “Captain, we need to—”
“Stay where you are,” Gutteridge said, reaching into his suit.
Alisa whipped the stun gun out. She fired as Gutteridge was pulling out a similar weapon. Her gun buzzed feebly, but nothing more happened.
“The security scanner at the door deactivated it.” Gutteridge clucked at her as he pointed his stun gun at her. “You should have gone for the low-tech firearm. But I knew you wouldn’t. After all, you fought for the Alliance. Shooting Alliance citizens now wouldn’t be seemly.”
“Lot of good that’s done for me lately,” Alisa grumbled, debating whether she could reach the Etcher and fire before he could stun her. How experienced would a doctor be with weapons?
Alejandro touched a control panel, and a series of beeps came from the scanner. Gutteridge glanced in his direction.
Alisa snatched her Etcher from her holster and dove to the side, anticipating Gutteridge firing. As she flew through the air, she aimed for him, not to kill but to shoot the stun gun out of his hand. But he fired first. Electricity crackled all around her, her hair standing on end, and her finger refused to comply with her wishes. She felt herself hit the ground and saw Gutteridge striding toward her, but her awareness disappeared after that, her muscles locked and her vision went black.
Chapter 6
Alisa woke in the same room, her head pounding. Her wrists were locked together in front of her, the cool intellicuffs molded to her skin. She sat on the floor, propped against a wall and slumped against something. Alejandro’s shoulder, she realized, as she opened her eyes to slits. Voices in the room kept her from making a more blatant announcement of her consciousness. Besides, her entire body was numb. It would take more time for feeling—and usefulness—to return to her limbs.
“You don’t know where the cyborg is?” a man asked.
“These are the only two who came.” That was Gutteridge’s voice. “Well,
three
technically.”
With her eyes slitted open, Alisa could see legs and boots around the exam table. A
lot
of them. There were at least eight people in the room. She recognized Gutteridge’s dark suit legs and sleek shoes with old-fashioned laces replete with ridiculously tufted tassels. The boots were all military.
“And you don’t know who this is?”
Alisa couldn’t see any higher without lifting her head, and she didn’t want to do that. A couple of those pairs of boots faced her. Someone was probably holding a gun on the prisoners.
“They didn’t say,” Gutteridge said. “Just that he was attacked by a Starseer.”
“Hearing too damned much about Starseers lately.”
“Is it true that someone threatened the city?” Gutteridge asked.
“That’s classified.”
“So classified that you can’t let a trusted member of society know if he should be getting his family off-world?”
Off world? What kind of threat had the Starseers made? Had it been Lady Naidoo and those who lived in the temple? Or were the rogues with the staff here on Arkadius?
“Classified,” the other speaker repeated firmly. Presumably, this was the highest-ranking man in the room, maybe the person in charge of searching for Leonidas.
Alisa wished she could see a clock. She should have been out for fifteen or twenty minutes. Had Leonidas found a way into the hospital? Would he be heading here even now? As much as she would like a rescue, she worried about how many people might be hurt—or killed—if he stormed in here. If there were eight people just in this room, how many people were in the corridor and at the various exits? Leonidas wasn’t in his armor, so he wouldn’t be impervious to blazer fire. Enhanced strength and reflexes might help him in a fight, but he would be as susceptible to a shot to the head as the next person.
A muffled voice sounded outside the door. Alisa couldn’t hear the words, but thought it was something about laundry. She remembered the woman dumping linens down a chute and imagined her surprise at having all these soldiers in her corridors.
A soft groan came from beside her. Alejandro.
One of the pairs of boots pointing toward them took a step closer, and Alisa wished she could tell Alejandro not to move, but it was too late. They already knew he was waking up. It wasn’t as if she could have done anything if they’d believed her unconscious, but they might have kept speaking freely.
“Not needed,” someone outside said more loudly and firmly.
“See what that is,” the leader ordered.
The door opened as a loud thud echoed from the corridor. Several more thuds followed, and all except two sets of legs stormed toward the doorway. Cracks and clacks sounded, followed by the squeal of blazer fire. A soft
thwump
came, representing the discharge of a stun gun. Four more
thwumps
followed in rapid succession.
“I hope that’s a rescue,” Alejandro muttered, lifting his wrists.
They were bound, just as Alisa’s were. She looked at the remaining soldier—a man with captain’s tabs on his collar—and wondered if he had the electronic fob that would unlock their cuffs. He had pulled out a stun gun—apparently,
their
weapons hadn’t been disabled by the security scanners—and had it pointed at the doorway. Gutteridge was still in the room, but he had retreated to a corner, his back to the wall. Someone had turned off the holographic brain image, but Durant remained on the table.
Several more thumps sounded, the door slammed open, and a big laundry cart careened inside, heading for the captain. He fired at it, rather uselessly. He also tried to jump out of the way, but the equipment towering to his side kept him from going far enough. The cart caught him in the hip, and he stumbled.
Alisa took advantage, bracing her back against the wall and kicking out as hard as she could from her awkward position on the floor. Both of her heels connected with the side of his shin. He slammed into the equipment, and his boots slid out from underneath him on the polished tiles. Alisa rolled away from the wall as his butt smacked to the floor. He turned his stun gun toward her, but she smashed into him first, jabbing him in the sternum with her elbow.
His breath blasted out in a pained whoosh. She twisted to get the right angle and kicked the stun gun out of his hand. It flew across the room, crashing off the leg of Durant’s table.
More concerned about getting her hands free than acquiring a weapon, Alisa scrabbled at the captain’s waist. She found the key fob in his pocket and yanked it out. Already recovering, he sat up and lunged toward her. Instead of scrambling away, she threw her weight at him, bringing her elbow to bear again. He only got his guard up part way, and she struck him in the jaw. His head snapped back, crashing against the equipment.
She thumbed the fob as she rolled away. The intellicuffs released and clacked to the floor. She pushed to her feet, turning toward the room to assess what was going on. She almost crashed into a gray-clad chest. A big hand reached out at her, and she wobbled backward, wishing she had found a way to keep the captain’s stun gun instead of knocking it away.
“Nice work,” came a familiar dry voice as the hand landed on her arm, steadying her.