Jak flicked an antenna. Let her bleed all over if she wanted to. Ignoring Co-Lanen’s questioning look, he walked over to where the biggest Berellian he had ever seen was propping Renner Conlin and Captain Zelan up against a crate. The two had been gagged. Conlin glared at Jak. Zelan tried to out of his swollen eye.
Crouching down, Jak took out his bruise reducer and passed it over Zelan’s eye. “What do either of you know about Rob Keller?” he asked.
Conlin and Zelan looked at each other then shook their heads.
“He was poisoned with hydromylex. He may have been up to no good but he was a friend of mine. Nobody deserves to die like that.”
“Did Keller say anything about my comm-link?” called Aurelia. “If so, please tell the big baboon I didn’t kill anyone.”
Co-Lanen moved forward, “Can we get out of here? We can all make explanations later.”
Nodding, Aurelia ordered, “Nevad, Martinez grab those anti-gravs and carry him out to the shuttle. Jak, you and I can take Miller. O’Connor run ahead and get the shuttle ready. The password for the controls is HK.”
Bridget ran for the door. The boys and Jak moved to obey. Scooping up his prisoners by the back of their necks, the Berellian carried them toward the door.
Taking Miller’s feet, Jak waited for Aurelia to get a grip on her end. She seemed to be having trouble with her arm. He saw her wince.
“Move.” Co-Lanen behind him was insistent. She pressed her hand forcefully against his back.
He turned his head. Saw her antennae quiver. Saw tiles fly upwards. Sclarians swarmed through the opening, some in black battle helmets.
Co-Lanen pushed harder. His knee hit the floor. With a sharp hiss, something sailed past him, hit the pile of crates and exploded. Flames spurted. Heat roiled over him, hot enough to burn. Thick, choking smoke mixed with white powder covered him, stung his eyes and lungs. He couldn’t tell if the thumping noise was rafter fire or his own heart banging.
“Jak, Jak!” Aurelia screamed his name.
He saw her for an instant, enough to catch the pistol she tossed him. She had Miller over her shoulder in a dead-man’s carry. She wouldn’t make it with that weight on her leg.
Jak turned. Gedden, he couldn’t shoot. “Co-Lanen!” He shouted. “Where are you!”
Out of the smoke appeared a Sclarian. Jak’s finger convulsed on the trigger. The shot ricocheted off the face plate. He ducked from his own gunfire. One more pull at the trigger. The Sclarian fell.
Smoke swirled, lifted. Co-Lanen lay nearby, a bright stream of yellow flowing from her mouth.
“I should have heard them coming. I should have heard them,” Jak realized he was screaming it even as he pulled her into his arms.
Shapes whirled around him. His eyes burned, watered. He didn’t know where the door was.
Strong fingers gripped his neck. Fur brushed his cheek.
“Straight ahead,” The Berellian’s voice boomed in his ear.
Jak ran. Hugging Co-Lanen’s body close, he slipped and slithered over debris. He felt cold air. He was in the street.
“Jak, over here.” Aurelia waved to him from the shuttle, light spilling out. Her face looked deathly white out of the darkness. She had made it after all.
A few more steps and he was inside.
“Where’s the baboon?”
Jak shook his head. He was coughing too much to speak. Carefully, he laid Co-Lanen in the aisle between the seats.
“Can I help?” Bridget knelt beside Co-Lanen in the aisle.
“Find the crash kit,” Jak ordered. Why wasn’t this a medical shuttle? He wiped at his eyes as the girl obeyed. Pulling his knife off his belt, he cut away Co-Lanen’s jumpsuit.
“Sorry,” Torp muttered as he reached across Co-Lanen’s body to pull a rifle from under the seat.
Dimly aware of voices and activity around him, Jak searched Co-Lanen’s body. He found three holes.
He opened the kit handed to him. Started an i.v. Ordered Bridget to keep pressure on the biggest hole, the one that was gushing the most.
The shuttle shook as the Berellian came on board.
“Get moving,” someone yelled.
“We’re not going to make it. We’re over weight.” said someone else.
“We’ll make it. We have to.” That was Aurelia.
Jak gripped the edges of the seats on either side to keep his balance as the shuttle lurched then finally lifted off.
“The
Pasteur
better be there,” Aurelia muttered.
He strapped an oxygen mask across Co-Lanen’s face.
“I hope they have the bay doors open.”
“Call them and tell them they better. We’re coming in, open or not.” Aurelia again.
His body had gone into reflex mode, doing all the recommended procedures. Nothing worked.
A hand tightened on his shoulder. He looked up. Eyes of jade burned into his.
“Let me. Please.”
He nodded. Once. Crawling out of Aurelia’s way, he moved so he could cradle Co-Lanen’s head in his arms, bent low to whisper to her in their own language.
Aurelia made a quick incision. Then came the horrible noise of tearing carapace. In a second, her hands were drenched in yellow. He had seen those hands work miracles thousands of times. Just one more.
One more.
“The
Phoenix
is closer. Should I take it?”
“No! We’re quarantined!” Aurelia yelled, her face tense with strain.
She pumped up and down, one hand squeezing the heart, the other trying to seal the damage. It made no sense but he had seen it work.
“The doors aren’t open.”
Up, down. Up, down.
“They’re not...”
Up, down.
“Yes, they are. Slow down.”
The shuttle slowed. Bounced a couple times then stopped. Cheers went up.
Jak lost his balance and Co-Lanen’s head slipped to the side.
Aurelia stopped the heart massage. Looking down, Jak followed the direction of her stare.
He had missed a hole.
A wound gaped behind Co-Lanen’s right ear.
Aurelia started pumping again. Up, down.
“Doesn’t matter. We can get her on life support.”
Reaching out, Jak stilled her hands. She looked at him, a tear welled, spilled over. The first he had ever seen.
“I’m sorry, Jak. I am so sorry.”
Having finally been allowed out of quarantine and after having showered and changed, Bridget met Miguel and Torp in the
Pasteur
’s
mess hall. The place was packed with mostly second shift people all talking at once. Though she couldn’t make out any of the conversations, Bridget could feel the tension in the air.
Mig waved at her from a table along the far wall. Thankfully, Bridget saw an extra tray of food for her. Ever since the cook, Bortil, had proposed to her, she felt uncomfortable going through the line. She slid into her seat.
The soup smelled good but she found she was still too wound up to feel very hungry. She lifted up the shutter to peek out the port hole.
“Hey, aren’t we still orbiting Jidal?”
“No, we moved out about fifteen minutes ago,” Torp replied loudly.
“Where are we going?”
“Earth, I think. Nobody’s sure what’s going on.”
“Anybody check on Steve?”
Miguel nodded, “He’s going to be okay. Fredrichs didn’t make it.”
Bridget looked at her plate. That final scene in the shuttle replayed itself in her mind. She knew she would never forget it. She had cheered with everyone else that they had landed safely. Turning back, she had caught that suspended moment of pain between Dr. Rialus and Dr. Aurelia.
Was it always like that? Pouring every ounce of skill you possessed into saving a life. Then that terrible gutting of your own heart when you knew there was nothing else you could do?
She had watched Aurelia visibly pull herself together, like watching those old movies they used to run backwards, where the broken vase would become whole again. When the quarantine bus arrived, Aurelia had hustled them all in as if nothing had happened. Bridget’s medical ethics class had discussed not getting involved with patients. At the time, she thought it would be easy. She wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Millie was right,” Bridget said aloud.
“About what?” Miguel asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
“She said Dr. Aurelia would fight through a horde of Kartillions if we needed help.”
Miguel laughed, “I get to be the one to tell Steve. He’s going to love owing her his life.”
“That woman scares me more than ever,” said Torp.
“Well, the company recruiters promised it would be exciting,” Miguel pointed out.
Scootching her seat forward, Bridget asked, “What was all that about East India they were talking about?”
“As far as I can figure, Conlin and Zelan and probably some other people were trying to take over the company,” Torp replied.
Jannie Taylor and a short nurse and a taller one Bridget didn’t know stopped by their table. Jannie looked like she had been crying.
“Hey, you three are the talk of the ship,” Jannie told them.
“Was Conlin really going to kill you?” asked the tall nurse.
“It sure looked that way,” said Torp. “If Dr. Aurelia and that Berellian cop hadn’t shown up we’d be little black, charred spots by now.”
“Shutup.” Bridget elbowed him. She shivered. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“Really,” said the short nurse. “It was scary waiting in Linden Court, hearing all the shots going off.”
Miguel looked up from his soup. “Yeah, I was going to ask about that. Where’d they put the
Phoenix
? I’ve never seen a ship that big touch down before.”
“It was beautiful,” said Jannie.
The other nurses nodded and repeated, “Beautiful. Gorgeous.”
“They put down right where our campsite was,” Jannie continued.
The short nurse laughed. “I’ve never run so fast in my life.”
Everyone laughed with her except Jannie whose eyes looked suspiciously watery. “Rob Keller didn’t make it. Dr. Rialus couldn’t bring his bod...him back,” she said with a quiver in her voice. The short nurse put her arm around her.
“Really? I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Bridget was surprised. “He was really nice.”
There was an awkward silence.
A lab tech walked by and stopped to lean over their table. He must have overheard Jannie because he said, “I hope Conlin gets his. There’s a rumor going around that the Director-General just ordered us home.”
“What for?” Torp asked.
“They’re talking about an investigation. Of Conlin. And Governor Arnott for leaving with the station. I hope they cold-fusion that coward.”
“Me too,” Jannie declared with venom in her voice. “See you guys later.” She and the other two walked away with the lab tech.
“Whew,” whistled Miguel. “This could get nasty.”
***
Aurelia limped down the hall. She had just spent a bad hour in the bathroom. The drop in adrenaline left her weak and shaking. She had emptied her stomach several times over and was still fighting dry heaves.
She could see Jak’s face if she closed her eyes. She had seen that look before. Like those cutout figures at festivals that you put your head through: same look, different faces.
It was easy to pretend not to care. There were always more lives to save. Some she saved, some she lost. She went on. In the solitude of her soul, she remembered every one.
This one she would never forgive herself for.
***
Jak answered the call on audio only. “What is it?” he asked.
“This is Labage from Pathology, Dr. Rialus,” replied a thick, sandpaper voice. “We need to know your requirements for disposition of the body.”
Jak recalled some of the funerals and memorial services he had attended over the years. None of them would substitute for not getting to say goodbye.
“Incinerate it,” he replied.
He was only one quarter human after all.
He almost didn’t answer the next call. The beep was persistent however. It turned out to be orders for immediate deployment of his army unit.
He ordered the computer to give him information on Sclarian anatomy. He could figure out a number of ways to kill them by the time he joined his unit.
***
Aurelia rubbed her shoulder. It no longer hurt but LRuh was overzealous in her application of derma-flesh. Stopping in the hall, she realized she had unconsciously arrived at the mess hall. The door was open and she could see it was filled with her crew. She didn’t want to go in. She wasn’t hungry.
Stepping across the threshold, Aurelia sat down on a stool at the counter, not making eye contact with anyone at the tables. She drew a fork from the container and absently drew imaginary lines on the countertop. A glass of water and bowl of gualano soup was set down in front of her. She stared at the rising steam and followed it up to see the
Pasteur’s
chief cook, Bortil, watching her.
“Am I getting that predictable, Bortil?” she asked, spooning up a mouthful of soup. It was good and warm and salty. And settling to her stomach.
The little, fat man grinned. “You’ll never be predictable, Doc. That’s why I live in hope that you will accept my marriage proposal some day.
Aurelia half-smiled. The knot in her stomach began to unwind. Bortil was almost exactly as wide as he was tall and had been the
Pasteur
’s
chief cook since its maiden voyage almost twenty-five years ago. After Aurelia’s first week aboard as general surgeon, he had come to her office and quite seriously asked her to marry him. Just as seriously she had refused. Someone later told her that Bortil proposed to every new female no matter what species. She was the only one who had not reacted with disgust. He had continued to ask her at regular intervals ever since.
“If I’m ever in the market you are definitely my first choice,” she told him.
Bortil grinned again. He busily scrubbed the counter as his ears turned pink.
“With my luck, some beautiful girl will come along and snap you up,” Aurelia added.
Shaking his head, Bortil replied, “You’re the only girl for me, Doc.”
“Oh?” She lifted an eyebrow, teasingly. “I heard Bridget was proposed to the first day. That wasn’t you?”
Bortil shrugged, “Just trying to make her feel welcome.” He grinned once more, his cheeks now a shade of rose and started to mop the floor.
Aurelia finished her soup listening to Bortil’s off key whistle. He hadn’t asked her about Conlin or the governor or the black cuff that still encircled her wrist. He had fed the
Pasteur
’s
crew for twenty five years and that’s what he would do the rest of his life. Business as usual in the mess hall. Normal. Aurelia reached in her pocket for the three messages that had just come in from the C.C. and glanced at them. Bortil was the only bit of normalcy left.
Finishing the soup, Aurelia left with a wave from Bortil and walked toward the shuttle bay. She reread the messages for the hundredth time. The first read: The
Louis
Pasteur
, as of 080922 NA-Mars Date, is recalled to Earth. Investigation to follow. Signed, Sub-Director Franklin.
Franklin was Meng’s right hand. Not unusual for him to sign orders, but this one bothered her for some reason.
The second message was a return of one of Dr. LRuh’s. LRuh had requested information from Snuffy’s cousin on Jidal IV. Across the message was stamped the red letters: Unable to Deliver. Communications to Jidal IV had been completely cut off. The little Sclarian would have to stay on board for awhile at least.
The third message was a forwarded communique from a news service. Berellia had recalled all of its citizens in the wake of the war between Kaprine and Sclaria. Her Berellian nurses were already preparing to leave the ship, transferring to the
Phoenix
. Faster than the
Pasteur
, the
Phoenix
would drop them off at Berellia and catch up with the
Pasteur
before they reached Earth.
Reaching the shuttle bay, Aurelia stuffed the messages back in her pocket and watched the activity. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see Radif among the group of Berellians waiting to be transported to the
Phoenix
.
She hated losing them. They were among her best nurses and technicians.
Zimbin approached. “I hate to go, Doc. But I’ll lose my citizenship if I don’t.” The big nurse looked apologetic.
“I know. If you need any kind of recommendation, let me know,” Aurelia told him.
“Is that all you’re going to give him?” Millie demanded as she walked in.
Aurelia had declared her fit enough to return to light duty, but still had her on syntholin. She eyeballed the head nurse’s wrist. Millie was obediently wearing her medicine patch.
Holding out her arms, Millie hugged the big Berellian. It was like a rag doll hugging a grizzly bear.
Zimbin looked pleased.
“We’ll miss you,” Millie told him. Her eyes were a little too bright.
Aurelia looked away.
Radif and Neil Sanders entered the far door together. Sanders had a suitcase with him.
Sanders nodded at Aurelia, smiled at Millie. “Radif has turned Conlin and Captain Zelan over to my custody. They’re already on board. We’ll take the
Phoenix
back.”
Radif held up a key. “Dr. Rialus related some pertinent information to me about the murder of Robert Miller. It is only third hand but enough to throw doubt on my case. I have no way of gathering more evidence. I will never be able to get into court.” It was the longest he had spoken. Reaching out, he took the cuff off Aurelia’s wrist.
She resisted the urge to cheer. She was quite sure he still suspected her.
Sanders put an arm around Millie’s shoulder, “I hate to leave, but I will be calling.”
Smiling, Millie stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I’ll be waiting.”
Sanders shook Aurelia’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Doctor. Goodbye.” He and Radif walked to the shuttle.
The alarm sounded. Aurelia and Millie stepped back of the line.
When the shuttle had lifted off, Aurelia watched the huge doors slowly close. It reminded her of the beginning of all their problems. This one had been fixed but what of the others?
The all clear bell rang. A faint smell of ozone wafted over them. She turned and saw Jak in the doorway. He too carried a case.
“My unit’s been called up,” he announced.
“Oh, Jak,” Millie breathed.
His antennae stood stiffly at attention.
“Where are you going?” Millie asked.
Jak shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s been some fighting on Ordel VII.” He laughed without amusement, “The fastest I’ve ever heard the Kaprinian army work.”
“But...well...how long?” Millie seemed to be having trouble getting her words out.
Again he shrugged.
Aurelia wanted to shake him.
“Could be a long time.”
“You’ll call us,” Millie demanded.
“Of course. My ride is waiting.”
Millie wrapped her arms around his neck. He folded his arms around her. Millie said something to him. Aurelia couldn’t hear the words. Millie touched his cheek, kissed him. When she let him go, her tears spilled over.
Jak’s antennae went down slightly. He looked at Aurelia. “Bye, Doc.”
She nodded. Once.
They watched him walk to the shuttle.
The alarm sounded. Aurelia waved at the tech in the control booth. The all clear rang. She ran as fast as she could to the shuttle. Grasping the edges of the hatchway, she leaned halfway in. “Come back alive, Ja-ka-thon Rialus.”
His lips held the slightest curve upward. “Okay.”
She closed the hatch then ran for the door. Millie would watch him go. Aurelia couldn’t see at the moment.
***
Aurelia’s eyes looked as red as Millie’s felt.
They were in the observation lounge. Aurelia sat in the big blue arm chair with her feet propped on the table. Slipping off her shoes, Millie tucked her feet under her. She was in her favorite Baxi chair.
She had decided not to bother Aurelia with her odd trip to the engine room. Aurelia had enough to worry about. Besides she was feeling much better. It had probably been just a case of sleep walking. So she told herself.
Millie leaned over to rustle through the empty wrappers in the candy box on the table between them.