Beyond Varallan (44 page)

Read Beyond Varallan Online

Authors: S. L. Viehl

Tags: #Cherijo (Fictitious Character), #Women Physicians, #Torin; Cherijo (Fictitious Character), #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Torin, #Life on Other Planets, #General, #Science Fiction; American, #Space Opera, #American, #Speculative Fiction

Operating to repair a spleen compared to the most delicate of neuro repairs. Once I clamped off the bleeders, I had to work through the tiny forest of arterial branches, suturing the torn lymph tissue itself. I imagined sewing a sponge back together without leaving any stitch marks. This ranked slightly below that. I was working against time as well. We had lowered Salo’s body temperature, but the spleen would not survive being cut off from the blood supply very long.

“Tissue looks healthy,” I muttered as the nurse blotted my brow. “Salo may be a nice guy and regenerate some of this on his own.” I finished repairing the torn arteries and released the clamps. A near-black color returned at once to the pale organ. In this species, black meant healthy. “Looks good.” I inspected the remainder of his open abdomen. “Anyone have an objection to me closing this patient? Anyone really brave enough to tell me, that is?”

Everyone chuckled.

“Good. Let’s wrap it up.”

After I finished suturing the long surgical incision down the center of his torso, I stripped off my gloves and rubbed the back of my neck.

“Move him into post-op,” I said. “I want two nurses monitoring him until he regains consciousness.”

I went out to the scrub room and cleaned up before I returned to the ward. I was surprised to see Xonea there. Adaola was running a scanner over him. I went over and gave him a brief summary of the operation on Salo.

“Has someone informed Darea?” I asked once I’d finished.

Xonea shook his head. “We could not locate her.”

“She’s in her quarters. I left her there with Hado just before Salo was injured.”

“You don’t understand. While you were operating on Salo, Darea disappeared. Just like Fasala.” He grimaced and leaned forward, favoring his abdomen.

“For God’s sake!” I snatched the scanner from Adaola and checked the display. “Just what I thought. All the stress is eating holes in your stomach.”

“I do not require an examination!” Xonea grated, and pushed off the table. I checked the last of the readings and caught my breath.

“Get back on there. Now.”

“Cherijo—”

“Now!” I ran the scanner over him one more time to be sure. While he sat there, digging his fingers into the exam pad, I went to the database display and entered the scanner readings. What the diagnostic array returned made me want to spit. I went back over to the exam table and planted my hands on my hips.

“What the hell are you doing, eating jaspforran? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Xonea’s wrathful expression faded. “Jaspforran? I have not taken any of that wretched herb. Why would I?”

“Don’t lie to me! You've got so much in your bloodstream it's starting to penetrate your gastric lining!” I said. “No wonder you've been so out of control! That stuff will… that will…” I halted at the obvious confusion he displayed. “You really didn't eat any?”

He shook his head.

I ran the scanner a third time. Found nothing in his stomach, except for traces of jaspkerry tea and the high levels of the warrior’s herb.

“What does this stuff taste like? Jaspkerry spice?” He nodded. I ran the scanner over myself, then put it down. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“What say you?”

“I’ll tell you later.” After I administered a mild tranquilizer to Xonea to counter the effects of the jaspforran, I signaled Hado. The navigator responded from his duty station.

“Hado? Weren’t you going to stay with Darea?”

“I was, Senior Healer, until I was signaled to return at once to Command Level.” He made a slightly frustrated gesture. “In error, as it happens. I will return to her quarters now.”

“Don’t bother, she's not there.” The next person I tried was Ktarka. The educator appeared to have just stepped out of her cleansing unit.

She smiled at the screen. “Yes, Senior Healer?”

“Is Darea there with you?”

“No, she is not. After I heard the news about Fasala, I signaled her. She wished to be alone, she said.” The Jorenian woman frowned as she tugged her towel higher. “Has the child been found?”

“No, and now Darea is missing.” I tried to smile reassuringly. “Sorry, Educator. It’s a long story. I'll get back to you when I find her.”

“Signal me if you need my assistance.”

Squilyp had been listening and now waited for me as I walked from the display. “You’re going to look for Darea?”

“Yes. Something isn’t right about all this. Why would two members of a ClanFamily disappear, and the third receive serious injuries, all on the same day?”

“Unfortunate coincidence?” the Omorr said.

“Or they all have a connection to the killer.”

I went directly to Salo and Darea’s quarters, to see if Fasala or her ClanMother had returned there. The rooms were silent.

I went into Fasala’s room, and even checked under the sleeping platform. Nothing but a rather dusty plasball under there. I opened the storage containers, and even the compartment where the child had carefully put her clean garments. Aside from the usual contents, they were empty.

When I returned to the living area, I smelled a trace of something odd. Cleanser? I stepped past the sofa, and heard a faint squishing sound. Beneath my footgear, the loose, fluffy weave of the area rug was damp. I bent down and sniffed at it. The odor was much stronger. Had Darea spilled some tea? The wet area disappeared beneath the bottom edge of the sofa, so I pushed it back to see what was under it.

There were several green splotches on the rug beneath the sofa. My fingers gingerly touched one of them.

Jorenian blood. Wet. Fresh.

I got to my feet and ran into the larger bedroom, calling Darea’s name. I pulled the room apart, opening everything large enough to contain her body. The cleansing unit was empty. Nothing under the bed. I sagged against it for a moment, resting my cheek on the soft coverlet. When I opened my eyes, I saw what had happened to Darea.

I contacted Barrea in Engineering first, then sent a coded signal to the ship’s linguist. It took a moment to receive his reply.

“It will work, but why do you wish to do this, Senior Healer?” Barrea asked over our secured channel,

“I know who the killer is.”

An hour later I sent out five more signals. Within minutes, Hado, Adaola, Xonea, Ktarka, and Reever showed up at Darea’s door panel. They looked at each other, then at me. Adaola appeared nervous. Hado and Ktarka seemed bewildered. Reever's expression never changed. Xonea glared at me.

“Come in, please.” I gestured to the empty room behind me. “I need to speak to all of you.”

Xonea folded his arms. “Senior Healer, I have no time—”

“Shut up and sit down, Captain.” I set out servers of tea and sat down in the chair I’d set a foot back from the rest of the furnishings. “Try the tea. It's real jaspkerry,” I told Xonea. “I programmed it myself.”

“Senior Healer, have you word of Darea or Fasala?” Ktarka asked.

“Not exactly. I came here looking for Darea, and found some blood on the floor.” I pointed. “Right there where Adaola is sitting.”

The Jorenian nurse lifted her footgear at once.

“Don’t worry. It's under the sofa. When I found the blood, I scanned it. The DNA matches Darea's perfectly. Is she dead?” I looked at each intent face. Not a flicker of reaction. “Well, I suppose if I was a cold-blooded killer, I'd hardly volunteer the information.”

That icy formality the Jorenians were capable of settled over my little group. They became big blue statues. Reever stood to one side, silently watching me.

Hado’s gentle eyes narrowed. “You believe one of us diverted Darea's path?”

“Cherijo, this is not amusing,” Xonea said. “If you have information about the murders, tell me now.”

“I’m getting to that part. Hado, let me ask you a question: What's the first thing you do after you invent a weapon?” The navigator appeared confused. “You test it. In a remote place, like the storage compartment on level fourteen. On a live subject, like Fasala Torin.”

“No one could want to deliberately hurt an innocent child,” Ktarka said in protest.

“The killer had a reason for using Fasala as a test subject.” I smiled at her. “But I’ll get to that later, too.”

“What weapon do you speak of, Healer?” Hado asked me.

“The killer created a resonant harmonicutter here on board the
Sunlace
.”

“No level on this ship is large enough to contain a harmonicutter!”

I smiled. “You’re right, Hado, you can't fit a harmonicutter on the ship. But you can use the ship's
buffer
to store energy, and act
like
a harmonicutter.”

“That kind of technology doesn’t exist!”

“It does now. I’m no engineer, so I checked with someone who is. A smaller device would have to be placed on the buffer to release the power in a focused sonic beam. Once the victim was located and targeted, a remote unit could be used to trigger the beam.”

“Then why wasn’t Fasala killed?” Adaola asked.

“What the killer couldn’t predict was that Fasala's educators would come looking for her. My theory is that the killer tried to protect the two adult women and reversed the power flow. The sudden stress from the backlash made the buffer shatter.”

I sipped my tea as I let that sink in, then continued.

“Before the killer could try again, Roelm Torin noticed the engine surge. Did you know Roelm was one of the
Sunlace’s
original designers? He knew those engines better than anyone. He must have figured out what the killer was doing. He was on his way to Engineering when he was murdered.”

“How did you discover these facts, Senior Healer?” Hado asked.

“I have proof, but for now I’ll save that, too. Let's talk about motive.” I turned to the Captain. “Xonea, you aren't going to win any awards for self-control. And when Reever accessed my subconscious, I saw you as the killer.”

“I have wronged you in the past,” he said, the words forced and stiff. “Yet the only injuries I have inflicted have been upon you.”

“I know,” I acknowledged. “But that wasn’t your fault. Someone removed the jaspkerry stores from the prep units in both our quarters and the galley, and replaced it with pure jaspforran.”

“What?” He clenched his fists and struggled for control. “By the Mother, that explains the ungovernable rage I have been enduring.”

“From the way that stuff affects the Jorenian central nervous system, I’m surprised you haven't punched a hole through the hull,” I said. “I also found micro-encapsulated artificial enzymes had been added to my Terran tea and all the Terran stores in the galley. They stimulated my sympa-thoadrenal response and made me, shall we say, slightly more aggressive than usual? The few times I had Xonea's tea only made it worse.”

“Who has done this?” Xonea wanted to know.

“I’m getting to that.” I turned to the senior nurse. “Adaola, you were on duty when Roelm and Yetlo died in Medical. Off duty when Ndo was murdered. Plus you were in the launch bay when the mercenary was killed. You had access to all the victims.“

Adaola paled, but said nothing.

“I could see you killing Ndo because he might threaten Xonea’s succession in some way. Or Yetlo, because you disagreed with my decision to stop him from committing suicide. But why Roelm? Why the mercenary? They presented no threat or connection to Xonea. And why would you poison your own ClanBrother if you were trying to protect him?”

Adaola shuddered. “I could never do such things.”

I gave her a smile. “I know it wasn’t you, Adaola. A killer doesn't spend double shifts watching a sick kid if she wanted her dead, or smash a desk because she believes she may have accidentally killed a patient. Nor does she try to destroy the mind of a much-loved sibling.”

“I can imagine why I am here,” Hado said. “I was a patient in Medical when Roelm’s path was diverted, and like Adaola, present when the mercenary was killed.”

“Whoever did this had an unusual mark over their heart—something you certainly have, Hado.” I watched him press one hand to the location of the surgical scars on his chest. “Plus you discovered Ndo’s body. You could have taken his data pad and planted it in my quarters.” I shook my head. “The problem is you were still recovering from cardiac surgery when Fasala and the educators were attacked.”

Xonea turned toward Reever. “And the ship’s linguist?”

“I don’t know where he was during the other murders, but he was there when the mercenary died,” I said. “It's also true Reever's never been happy about you Choosing me, Xonea, or me going along with it. I might have suspected him, had I not been linked with him when the killer tried to alter my brain wave patterns.” I decided not to bring up the time when I'd offered myself to Reever, and he'd turned me down. “It wasn't him.”

Reever’s and Xonea's eyes met mine, then Adaola's, then Hado's. We all turned to the only person in the room who had not touched her tea.

“That leaves me,” Ktarka said. She was very calm.

“Yes.” So was I. “It does.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Game Over

«
^
»

I
have heard no evidence that would indicate my involvement.”

It was interesting, the way Ktarka said that. If someone accused me of murder, I’d be screaming my head off. Protesting my innocence. Telling everyone to stop wasting time and go after the real killer. I might even throw things. I didn't see myself being really concerned with the
evidence
.

“After Fasala was injured, you came up to me in the galley and introduced yourself. Why?”

“I merely wished to acknowledge your work with our children,” Ktarka said.

“Or was it that you’d just tested your weapon and nearly killed two of your colleagues? Did you decide then you needed someone to take the blame? Who would be ideal? A Terran outsider who had already killed one Torin, maybe?”

She took a sip of tea. “Your theory proves nothing.”

“Later, while you were in Medical gloating over Fasala’s injuries—or trying to make another attempt on her life, I don't know which—you must have overheard Roelm making a fuss about the engines. After he questioned the little girl, you followed him. Did you kill him to protect your secret?”

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