Beyond Varallan (22 page)

“I have a class today with the primary students.” Tonetka often scheduled time to teach the Jorenian children. She was an expert in a number of subjects, including (of course) journey philosophy. She held up an old, wicked-looking blade. “Today I am presenting facts for the children about prehistoric medical practices and instruments.”

“Ugh. That looks sharp. I wouldn’t pass it around. Here.” I removed the bracelet and placed it around her wrist. “You like? You wear. It doesn't fit me, and I'll just lose it or something.”

Once Tonetka had departed, I managed to talk one of the nurses into procuring a terminal for my use by making a solemn and soon-to-be-broken promise to access it for no more than an hour or two.

“The Senior Healer will be most upset if she finds you at work when she returns,” the nurse said. “Then you will begin insulting each other and disrupting the ward—again.”

“Don’t worry.” I winked at her. “I'll take all the blame
and
the insults.”

I retrieved all pertinent records pertaining to Fasala’s injuries, the mercenary attack, and the deaths of Roelm, the Terran Leo, and Ndo.

The facts would begin to correlate, I thought, if I kept shuffling them around. Roelm, Leo, and Ndo had each died of identical symptoms from as of yet unidentified causes. Fasala and the two educators had been injured, not killed. The only thing the dead victims had in common was that they were male. Fasala and the educators weren’t, and their wounds were completely different, too.

I was comparing medical histories when Xonea appeared and sat down beside my berth.

“Healer, you are looking well.”

“I thought Jorenians didn’t lie.” I looked terrible, and he knew it. “Any progress?”

“The Captain has discovered no evidence connecting the attack on you and Ndo’s death,” he said, and glanced at the data on my terminal. “You are comparing medical charts?”

“I had hoped to find some similarity in their profiles.” I removed the charts on Fasala and the two educators and concentrated on the dead men. “Roelm and Ndo were Jorenian, approximately the same age. Yet Roelm was much heavier than Ndo. The Terran mercenary was older than both, but weighed much less. They were killed in different parts of the ship. Roelm and Leo were surrounded by different people. Ndo died alone. He was murdered at his Command display, wasn’t he?”

“Hado found his body exactly where you said it would be,” Xonea said. Absently, he rubbed one hand across his abdomen. “Do you recall anything else?”

“Only that I have no idea why I wasn’t killed, too.” I switched off the terminal and put my head back. “Tonetka believes whatever killed the men couldn't have caused my injuries.” Xonea was staring oddly at me. Again. “What?”

“It has been suggested that your injuries prove you were involved with Ndo’s murder,” he said. “That Ndo inflicted them upon you in self-defense.”

“Just who is spewing this waste?” I demanded.

“Captain Pnor will not say. There is more I may do to prove your innocence, with your… cooperation.”

I’d heard this kind of proposal before. Last time it got me engaged. “Define
cooperation
.”

“The one who assaulted you will try again. Allow me to guard you.”

“Guard me?” An image of Xonea dogging my heels made me frown. “I don’t see you following me around all day.”

“You can be monitored while you are on duty. I will watch over you by sharing your quarters.”

“You mean, move in with me? I thought you needed to bond with someone for that.”

“Full bonding is not required. It is the only way I can protect you.”

I sat up straight again. “I told you before, I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

That didn’t make him happy. “You must do this, Cherijo.” He stood. “You are my Chosen.”

There was nothing that equaled Jorenian arrogance. Except me. “That doesn’t make me your property, fly boy.”

“Under HouseClan law, you must obey me.”

I’d never heard
that
before. “Space your HouseClan law!” I slammed my hand onto the terminal keypad, scrambling the data.

“It is our path, Cherijo,” he said, then grimaced and pressed his hand against his stomach again.

“Your path is giving me a headache, and you an ulcer!”

Before Xonea could reply, an explosion rocked the
Sunlace
. This one was much more violent than the tremors caused by the mercenary attack. I was flung from my berth onto the floor. Xonea covered me with his body. His massive weight forced the breath out of my lungs.

“Alert,” the display panel announced. “Hull breach on levels five, six, eighteen, and twenty-eight. Internal buffers compromised. Levels will be secured. Evacuation must commence.”

“The League must have tracked us from Garnot.” Xonea pulled me up with him.

I stripped the monitor ports from my arms and called for the staff. Everyone in Medical mobilized around us.

“I want all senior residents to stay put,” I said. “Squilyp, you’re in charge.” The Omorr nodded. “Set up for heavy casualties. You four emergency teams, take the gyrlifts to the nearest level you can get to the compromised areas. Xonea, which level has the greatest concentration of crew members?“

“Level six. The sub-executive bays and educational facilities are located there.”

“No.” I paled. “Tonetka. The
kids
.”

After dividing up the teams, we grabbed our emergency packs and raced out. More turbulence rocked the ship. I stumbled several times along to the way to the level above Medical. Xonea always managed to grab me before I hit the deck.

Xonea and I entered level six ahead of the team. Heat and a sudden, dense cloud of noxious smoke enveloped us. From the emergency kit I carried I pulled out two breathers and handed one to Xonea. I looked over my shoulder to assure the nurses were masking as well.

“Keep your hand on my arm!” Xonea’s voice was muffled by the mask. I nodded and grabbed onto his sleeve. He led me through the blinding fumes to the first of the children's classrooms. The door panel was jammed. When Xonea started to force it open, a burst of flames made him snatch his hands away.

“Look!” I shouted, pointing through the open gap. Over the fiery wall we saw a group of small bodies huddled in a tight mound. Two educators were shielding the children from the fire with their own bodies. One of them was Ktarka Torin.

Evacuation units kicked in at last. They removed enough smoke from the level corridor to let us take off our breathers.

“Emergency controls are operational,” Xonea said. He keyed the exterior deck panel. I wiped the filthy sweat from my face on my sleeve and saw a square aperture open in the upper deck just inside the classroom door panel. “This will extinguish the flames.”

Thick streams of chemical foam cascaded from the slot. It worked—the flames were smothered at once. That left smoke, which was as deadly as fire.

“We’ve got to clear the air,” I told him.

“I am purging the room through the exchange dampers,” he said as he rewired the panel controls. I didn’t wait to watch him, but strapped on my breather. After I grabbed my pack, I kicked aside some smoldering debris, and stepped inside.

The children had to be checked first. All of them were coughing heavily. I handed out breathers as I made a quick scan of each child for lung damage and burns. The educators were calm and kept reassuring the children. I would have never guessed both women had second-degree burns on their backs, a fact I discovered right after I’d dealt with the kids.

Ktarka’s eyes were still filled with panic as she tried to hold the singed shreds of her tunic over her breasts. I patted the part of her shoulder that wasn't injured as I passed my scanner over her.

“Hold on, lady,” I said. She gave me a confused stare. Shock was starting to set in. “You’ll be just fine.” One of the nurses appeared beside me, a syrinpress in her hand. I injected Ktarka with pentazalcine and helped the nurse get the educator to her feet.

“Healer—” Ktarka began, then coughed violently.

We both stumbled against each other when the
Sunlace’s
hull was battered with a fresh wave of displacer fire. The nurse supported Ktarka from the opposite side as she sagged. It took a few minutes to maneuver her limp body out the door panel and gently down on the deck. We went back for the other educator and the kids.

Once the classroom was evacuated, I turned to the nurse.

“Have the women taken to Medical.” I pointed to the children who were in respiratory distress. “These four, too.” I went to the only functional corridor display, and routed a signal to Medical.

Squilyp’s face appeared. Behind him, I saw the staff trotting in different directions. “Doctor?”

The ship rocked wildly again. I grabbed the sides of the console and held on. “I’m sending you two adults, both with second-degree burns. Four kids on oxygen. Gyrlifts are down, so they'll be on gurneys. Check everyone for inhalation exposure and toxins. Set up for more burn patients.” I felt the transitional thrusters many decks below throb into life. “What's your status?”

“The ward is full. Three serious, one critical. I’m prepping for surgery.” The Omorr looked over his shoulder and yelled at a nurse, “Move those low priorities out in the corridor!“ He looked back at me. ”Adaola is taking triage—“

“Caution,” the display interrupted. “Emergency transition.”

“Get those patients prepped. Don’t be exemplary today, Squil,” I said. “Be quick. Go!”

He nodded, and I terminated the signal.

“Cherijo?”

At Xonea’s call, I left the nurse to take care of the patients. The rest of the classrooms we could access were empty, he told me when I caught up with him. The Jorenian stood before an insurmountable pile of rubble blocking off the corridor leading up to level five.

Transition into another dimension began without warning. Once reality untwisted, I found myself on the deck, sprawled next to Xonea. I rubbed a hand over the new bruises on my hip.

“Nothing I love more than emergency transition in the morning,” I said.

“Launch bay has been destroyed,” Xonea told me as he helped me up. He nearly doubled over before he propped himself against one wall panel.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

“No, I am just winded. Here.” In his hand was a scanner. The display showed a concentration of some fifty life-forms behind the blockage.

“Can you raise anyone on level five?”

“No response. We must find a way through this. Heat levels are rising on the other side of the obstruction.”

I knew the gyrlift was useless. “What about the emergency controls?”

“The panel has been badly damaged.”

I spotted a gap in the debris level with the upper deck. It was too small for Xonea. One skinny human might make it, though.

“Can you lift me up there?” I pointed.

He shook his head. “It is too dangerous.”

“Then I’ll climb.”

“You cannot do this. Cherijo!” He took my arm to hold me back.

“Let me go,” I said, and shook myself loose. Both our faces were coated with blackened sweat. Every bruise on my body throbbed. The stench from the lingering fumes made me dizzy, so I kept my breathing light and shallow. Then I saw a group of crew members entering the corridor. They were wearing envirosuits.

“You!” I yelled at the smallest one, and waved him over. “Take that off and give it to me.”

As the crew member obligingly stripped out of the suit, Xonea fumed.

“This is madness!”

“You can try and stop me.” I tugged the oxygen unit from the back of suit. There was no way I could fit through the gap with it on, and even if I did, the fire would probably cause it to explode. With no air supply, I’d have to make it a quick climb. “Or you could work on what's left of the emergency controls while I climb over through there.”

His mouth was a hard, colorless line. “Your hands will be burned.”

I discarded the gloves—they were so big I’d never get a handhold while wearing them—and fastened the over-large suit as tightly as possible. “Don't worry, I'll live.”

“What about oxygen?”

“I’ll hold my breath.”

He yanked me into his arms, and held me for a moment. My face barely reached the lower vault of his chest.

“Come back to me, Cherijo,” he said.

I nodded, then donned the head covering. At my thumbs-up, big hands encircled my waist, and Xonea lifted me over his head. Wish I had that kind of strength. Surly patients would no longer be a problem.

I thrust my body forward into the gap. The skin on my fingers and palms split as I grabbed torn metal.

“Ahhh!”

As my body fell against the rubble, hot spots seared through the suit, burning me. I clenched my teeth against another cry. Had to keep moving. I ducked my head in and bent my elbows, my shoulders scraping the sides of the gap. I heard a ripping sound, and felt the back of the suit tear from my neck to my waist. So much for the envirosuit. With a grunt, I hoisted myself through.

Smoke. Flames. The stench of destruction. The sound of children crying made me claw my way forward. Something hot and jagged pierced the suit and stabbed my right thigh. I jerked my leg away, felt the blood pulsing from the wound. Artery?

“Help us!” a familiar voice shouted.

I squinted and tried to see where they were. Black, billowing smoke made the air into a thick fog. Above me, ruined deck plates had burst, spilling deadly lengths of live, writhing component wiring. All around me crimson and orange flames crackled and flared, creating a deadly barrier. One I had to get through. Now.

There. Fifty yards away, Tonetka was herding the children back from the danger zone. Painfully I crawled down the steep debris pile, until a solid wall of flame barred my path.

“Go back!” Tonetka shouted.

After ruining a perfectly good envirosuit? Not a chance. I tucked my hands under my arms, curled up, and pushed myself into a tumbling roll. Incredible heat burned through the suit and seared my flesh as I hurtled through the fire.

When I landed on the deck below, my suit was burning. The children screamed in terror. Tonetka quickly beat out the flames and pulled the smoldering material from my body.