Authors: S. L. Viehl
Tags: #Women Physicians, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Life on Other Planets, #General, #Science Fiction; American, #American, #Adventure, #Speculative Fiction
“You liar.” Garphawayn threw a handful of photoscans at the Senior Healer. “I demand we resolve this disgusting matter at once!”
Squilyp bent down and picked up the images, which were of a beautiful, smiling Jorenian female. Inwardly, I groaned.
It seemed Garphawayn had just found out about the other woman in her fiancé’s heart.
“I will not accept your solicitation,” the Senior Healer said as he finished picking up the photoscans and handed them to me. “We are contracting marriage, not seeking to kill each other.”
“
You
are contracting marriage under false pretenses. It is
too
revolting to even think about.” The female Omorr’s gildrell rings clinked together. “I demand satisfaction for your blatant insult to the Cestes name.”
My boss seemed to snap. “You have insulted it yourself by searching my quarters, you harridan!”
“That’s enough.” I decided it was time I stepped in, before membranes started swinging. “Both of you, shut up for a minute.”
Malicious dark eyes shifted to me. “Stay out of this, Terran, or I will solicit you next.”
“Since I’ve already kicked your fiancé’s backside once in a solicitation, I wouldn’t recommend it.” I pulled out a chair and pointed to the seat. “Park yourself for a minute. You, too, Squilyp.” When they didn’t move, I raised my voice. “Now, or I call security and tell them to bring weapons!”
The Omorr chose opposite ends of the table and refused to look at each other.
“Good. Now we’re going to straighten this out. Squilyp, tell Garphawayn who the female in the photoscans is.”
“Lalona Torin, one of my patients. She was badly burned in a fire on the ship. I performed the reconstructive surgery that restored her facial features and proper respiratory functions.”
“Ha! She has no scars on her face!”
He planted two membranes on the table and leaned forward. “I am an excellent surgeon.”
“If what you say is true, then why do you keep only her images? Where are those of your other patients?” The female Omorr tossed her feathered head. “Produce them, and I will retract my accusations. I am willing to be understanding. This once.”
“Oh, someone needs to record this moment and preserve it for posterity.” I sighed. “Garphawayn, you can’t go through marriage asking for proof every time your spouse tells you something. Marriage is about faith and trust in each other.”
She gave me a shut-up look. “Very well.
Adoren
, tell me you have no feelings for this blue female in the images, and I will withdraw my solicitation.”
“I loved her,” Mr. Honesty felt compelled to say.
“You see?” She gave me a triumphant glare. “His heart is not open. He is not suitable for marriage. And yet he deceived me, brought me to this wretched vessel, compelled me to waste my time negotiating a contract which could never be fulfilled-”
“Right. Okay. Shut up.” My boss was maintaining a mutinous silence, so I decided to explain the muddle. “In the first place, Lalona Torin and Squilyp could never be together. Jorenians and Omorr are not physically compatible. He knew this, which is why he never pursued her.”
“That makes little difference.” She thumped the table. “His heart was to be mine by contract!”
“Lady, if you think a signed document is going to make this guy love you, you’re existing in another dimension.” That wasn’t enough, I saw from her expression. I’d have to get creative. “Besides, Lalona Torin died as a result of her injuries. You’re jealous of a ghost, nothing more.” When Squilyp made as if to protest, I silently stomped on his foot under the table, and he subsided.
Garphawayn looked a little thunderstruck. “She’s dead?”
“That’s what I told you,“ I said. ”Now, I think you’d better withdraw your solicitation and go spend an interval under a cold cleanser port. What do you say?”
“I withdraw my solicitation.” She rose on her leg, looking even more regal than ever. “As for the marriage contract, I will have to consider this new codicil. Perhaps, Squilyp, you should ask yourself if you truly desire a wife, or merely a substitution for a deceased love.” Out she stomped.
As soon as she was gone, Squilyp exploded. “Why did you lie to her? Lalona is not dead; she’s on Joren!”
“Uh-huh. And when do you think your future bride is ever going to visit
that
particular planet?”
He sat back down. “Likely never.”
“I rest my case.”
My boss still looked miserable as he sorted through the photoscans. “She’s right, you know. I’m still infatuated with a female I can never have.”
“I didn’t think too much of this one, until she came in here demanding to beat the hell out of you.” I smiled. “Squilyp, Garphawayn has been acting like a refrigeration unit since she got on board. Now, suddenly, she’s insanely jealous. In my mind, there’s only one reason for that.”
“Hormones,” he said in a morose tone.
“No, you idiot.” I patted his cheek. “She’s in love with you.”
The Omorr’s behavior lingered in my mind as I went to check on Hawk and see how well the sleep suspension was working. Savetka reviewed his vitals with me, then pointed out some minor fluctuations in brain activity during the transition phase.
“It was much the same when we began administering the additional sedation. I have little hope that he will be able to remain in suspension for an extended period of time.”
“He’s as ticked off as Squilyp’s girlfriend is,” I joked, then nearly dropped the chart. “That’s it.”
The nurse looked mystified. “Your pardon, Healer?”
“Pull up all the hematological results for the patient, and sort out the hormone and protein levels.” I pulled back the suspension shroud, and felt under Hawk’s neck. There was a distinct bulge indicating an abnormality in the thyroid gland, and I scanned it before replacing the shroud. “No growth, but definitely enlarged.”
Meanwhile, the nurse had collated the data I needed and handed me the chart. “He has a number of hormones out of balance, including several that the database cannot identify.”
“He’s only half-Terran, so it would make sense that he has some Taercal glands.” I’d already downloaded what few readings I’d taken from the native population, and went over to a console to pull them up. Hyt only had a couple of matching secretions in his blood, but the dead adult male I’d scanned had all of them. “Bingo.”
Savetka studied the screen. “Without a comprehensive database, we cannot determine which glands are affected.”
“I’m way ahead of you.” I signaled Communications. “This is Healer Cherijo. I need to relay a signal back to Taerca.” When the Communications officer looked at me as though I’d lost my mind, I glowered. “It’s a medical emergency; put me through.”
“Yes, Healer.”
The response was immediate, and the officer patched it through to my terminal. I didn’t know the face of the official who answered, but I certainly recognized the hostility.
“What do you want, polluter?”
“I have one of your people on my ship, and he’s dying,” I said, deciding blunt was best. “I need you to upload your standard medical database to me.”
“We do not blaspheme Sadda.”
“I have Sadda on the ship, remember?”
“Then the great one will tell you himself. If you or your kind ever come within our space again, we will destroy all of you.”
The signal terminated, and there were no further answers to the other dozen relays I sent.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Celebration City
If it wasn’t frustrating enough that I couldn’t get the medical data I needed to save Hawk’s life, or find out what Qonja was doing, the Captain decided to get all Jorenian on me about going down to the surface of Oenrall.
“Until I know what’s making these people sterile, it’s idiotic to send anyone else but me!” I shouted at the terminal.
“I shall not debate this, Cherijo.” My ClanBrother was using that no-nonsense tone with me, which the console relayed perfectly. “I refuse to allow you to sojourn alone.”
“I won’t be alone. Dhreen is going with me.”
“Dhreen is injured and has severe memory loss. He is also in no condition to help you, should the situation deteriorate, as it did on Taerca. Command out.”
That left me fuming as I prepared to jaunt down to a planet full of people who had been rendered barren by an unknown cause. Naturally, I was going to vent, and Reever just happened to walk in our quarters at that moment.
I said a few uncomplimentary things about Xonea, ending with, “Who does he think he is, telling me how to do my job?”
“The Captain.” Duncan seemed faintly amused. “Perhaps having a big brother is not the delight you once thought it.”
“Have you looked at the sojourn roster? Why does Squilyp have to come with us?”
“I believe the Omorr wishes to have some time away from the female he is considering as a mate.”
I gave him a baleful look. “I know how he feels. Especially when my husband walks out in the middle of a medical procedure on me and doesn’t answer my signals.”
He went to the viewer. “I was preoccupied.”
“You were dodging me.” I could see the tension in his shoulders, but my supply of patience was running low. “These chameleon cells are serious business, Reever. The theory alone went way beyond
risky-I’m not even sure they’ll remain cohesive. We need to talk about what we’re going to do.”
That was when he pulled one of my tricks. “After the sojourn,” he said, and walked out.
To assure himself there would be no monkey business, Xonea piloted the launch down to Oenrall Main Transport. I was too angry at being overruled to say much to him, outside my affirmative snarl to his greeting when we arrived in launch bay three.
Dhreen and Squilyp were already there, waiting to board as an Engineering crew gave the launch a final preflight check. Reever took my medical pack and placed it next to the others waiting to be stowed.
“Don’t juggle this around too much,” I said, handing him the cryogenic carrier.
“What is inside?”
“The Jorenian liver we’ve been working on. I want to show it to one of the native doctors.”
Qonja watched me from his position by the entrance ramp, his eyes intent. The entrance to the bay opened behind us, and I glanced back to see Garphawayn and Ilona Red Faun walk in together.
Great. All we need are the Hsktskt and we can have a party.
Garphawayn hopped over to stand beside Squilyp. “So this is the vessel you will jaunt in to the surface? It is
too
cramped. Tell the Captain to fly a larger shuttle.”
“Dhreen.” Ilona’s voice wasn’t as loud, but commanded as much attention. The Oenrallian watched her approaching him, and just as she reached him, turned his back on her. “Dhreen, please.”
“Leave me alone.”
I hissed my impatience. “Dhreen, don’t be an ass.”
“Attend to your own lookout, Doc.” Now he turned around to confront her. “I informed you, there is nothing further to converse about. I don’t remember you. I don’t know you.”
The Terran girl wrapped her arms around her torso. “I am pregnant with your children.”
“They aren’t mine!”
Garphawayn, who had been bickering with Squilyp over launch sizes and Captain’s prerogatives, snapped her head up. “You, orange-haired one. Do not speak to her like that. It is absolutely
too
indiscreet to make such statements in front of others.”
“They’re his,” Ilona told the female Omorr, her voice breaking into a sob on the last word. “His children.”
Garphawayn turned to me. “You. Bad-tempered Terran. A DNA test has been performed?”
“I have a name.” I gave her the eye. “And it’s not ‘Bad-tempered Terran.’”
“I cannot remember it.” She went over and placed a comforting membrane on Ilona’s shoulder. “Well? Is he responsible for the female’s pregnancy, or not?”