Read The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) Online

Authors: C. A. Hartman

Tags: #Science Fiction

The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1)
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“Yes, Doctor,” Captain Ferguson’s voice rang through on Vargas’s contactor.
 

“Captain. The boy is still comatose, but our geneticist has identified a tattoo on his hand that she claims is a crest of the…” Vargas glanced at her, “… the Shereb clan. The dead ones don’t appear to be Shereb.”

“Are you sure?” the Captain replied in an obviously puzzled tone.

“Yes. His genes have been altered too, and—”
 

“Order two Masters-at-Arms to report to sick bay immediately. Contact me the moment the boy wakes up.”
 

“Yes, Captain.”
 

Catherine looked at Vargas, waiting for an explanation. But none came.
 

“Please, continue,” he said. Vargas went back to the cold chamber. Upon returning, he remarked that the deceased Korvali wore robes of gray. “The boy’s is blue.”

“Well, he’s male but he isn’t a boy,” Catherine said, eyes glued to the viewer. “His telomeres indicate that he’s around twenty-two years old.”

“In Earth years? I don’t think so, Lieutenant. He has no facial hair.”

“The Korvali don’t have facial or body hair, Doctor.”
 

Vargas started to make another point, but was interrupted by another voice speaking to them.
 

“My age is twenty-three, in Earth years,” the male voice said in a thick accent.
 

She and Dr. Vargas turned around in unison.
 

The Korvali was sitting up, conscious and alert, staring at them with pale, sea-colored eyes. The two Masters-at-Arms still hadn’t arrived.
 

“Where am I?” he inquired coldly, his face expressionless. He looked primarily at Catherine as he spoke. She was standing now, inadvertently staring back at the Korvali’s unusual, penetrating gaze.

Catherine waited for Vargas to answer. As the higher-ranking officer, it was his duty to speak, not hers. After recovering from his surprise, Vargas called for the Captain to report to sick bay.

“You’re on the Starship
Cornelia
,” Vargas finally replied. “We represent the Space Corps, from Earth. We responded to your vessel’s SOS and brought you aboard close to two days ago. I am Doctor Vargas, the ship’s Chief Medical Officer. This is Doctor Lieutenant Finnegan, a science officer.” He paused. “I’ve been trying to wake you up.”

There was a long pause. Then, the Korvali replied, “Attempting to ‘wake’ me would be impossible without the correct conditions.”

Dr. Vargas glanced at Catherine, then looked back at the Korvali. “So once we supplied you with adequate levels of hydration and nutrition, you woke up on your own.”

“Yes,” he replied, elaborating no further. He sat perfectly still on medical bed.
 

Just then, two MAs entered sick bay, their weapons in hand as they advanced toward the bed where the Korvali sat. Dr. Vargas put up his hand, and the soldiers ceased their approach and stood aside.
 

Vargas approached the Korvali with his scanner. The Korvali immediately recoiled. Vargas froze, unsure of what to do next.
 

“Does the doctor have permission to scan you?” Catherine offered. “He won’t touch you.”

The Korvali relaxed slightly, not taking his eyes off Vargas. “Yes.”

Vargas raised the bed to a full sitting position and began scanning his patient. The Korvali looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Although it didn’t register initially, Catherine realized that he spoke English, and rather well, as though he’d interacted with humans before. He must be a scientist or government official, on his way to make a rare appearance at an Alliance function.

Vargas finished his scan. “Lieutenant here believes that your ability to enter this stasis was due to some intentional mucking with your… genetic material.”
 

The young man turned his attention back to Catherine, his unblinking gaze peering at her for a moment before he answered. “She is correct.”
 

“You’re not recovered yet,” Vargas said. “Your heart and respiratory rates are better but they’re still pretty low, and you’re running a little hot.”

“Let me view your instrument.” Vargas, eyebrows knitted, rotated the medical scanner so that the Korvali could see the readout. After examining it for a few moments, he said, “Each result is within normal range for my people.”

Bewildered, Vargas looked at the readout again. He asked more questions. The Korvali kept his answers quite brief, appearing uninterested in conversing and, on one or two occasions, he simply offered no answer at all. Finally, Vargas gave up and went to download his scanner data. The Korvali turned his attention to Catherine.
 

“The doctor is unaware of your customs,” she said once Vargas stepped out of earshot. “You will find that we all are.” The Korvali continued to watch her, signaling her to continue. “Are you willing to talk about your genome?” It was risky to ask him about genetics. The Korvali rarely shared information, especially about that. But something made her ask anyway.

“Ask me anything.”

Catherine, not expecting that response, scrambled to choose her most pressing questions. “So my hypothesis was correct? The epigenomic changes I saw were responsible for your stasis?” She spoke in her most scientific tone, which she used when she was nervous.
 

“Yes.”

“And your epigenome has been altered so you could survive?”

“Yes.”

Unfathomable
.
 

He looked at her, encouraging her to continue.
 

“The alterations aren’t enough. What initiated this stasis?” Then the answer came to her. “A drug.”

“Yes.” He looked almost pleased.
 

“What kind?”

“You know this. You have a… publication… that discusses a class of related drugs.”

Catherine stared at him.

“Are you not Catherine Finnegan, the geneticist who authored the publication on the six classes of methylation inhibitors?” As he spoke, his speech seemed to suddenly grow more fluid, his accent softer.

“You know my work?”
 

“Yes. We study all publications from Earth’s geneticists.”

“Wha… why? Isn’t our work a bit rudimentary to you?”

He thought for a moment. “Perhaps. It can also be… interesting.”

Catherine couldn’t help but smile at his attempt at diplomacy.
 

The Korvali smiled in response. It wasn’t a big smile or, really, much of a smile at all. It was a subtle change in his expression that somehow conveyed pleasure.

“That’s an old paper,” she finally replied, recovering from her surprise. “Anyway, that’s as far as I got before you came to life… rather suddenly.”

“Yes, you both appeared… what is the word?”

“Surprised.”

“Yes. Surprised. I am familiar with your language, but unaccustomed to speaking with… outsiders.” The word came out strange, like he was uncomfortable with it.

“You haven’t spoken to otherworlders before?”

“No.”

Catherine, again torn between the many, many questions she wanted to ask, decided to stick with the most important ones.

“If you don’t mind my asking, which designer did this level of work on you? Was it Othniel? We have so little information on Korvali genetics, but Othniel’s work seemed to be heading in this direction.”

His expression changed, and he broke his strong eye contact, if only momentarily.
 

Catherine felt a chill. She’d gone too far, asked too many questions. “Have I offended you?”

“No. It is my work. I was the designer.”

Catherine stared again. “You were.”

“Yes.” He paused. “Othniel… provided guidance with the initial design.”

“Othniel is your mentor?”

“He was my father.”
 

Catherine nodded, unsure of what to say. Sensing she was in dangerous waters, she dropped it.
 

“You again appear… surprised,” he said.
 

“You aren’t what I expected.”

He looked at her with his sea gaze. “Neither are you.” He then held out his webbed hand to her. “I am Eshel.”

Catherine, completely taken aback by the unexpected offering, stared at the long-fingered, webbed hand before she finally put her hand in his and shook it. She was embarrassed that he, the outsider, had to offer his name, rather than she or Vargas asking for it. “Catherine,” she replied.

Before either could say anything more, Eshel’s powerful gaze was redirected elsewhere. When Catherine followed his glance, she saw that Captain Ferguson had arrived. She’d been so absorbed by the Korvali that she hadn’t heard Vargas announce her arrival. She quickly turned and stood at attention.
 

Ferguson walked over to them, her graying raven hair pulled back into a bun. Her blue eyes had their usual gleam, her posture its usual confidence. “At ease,” she said, faintly waving her arm, not taking her eyes off the Korvali. “Welcome aboard. I’m Janice Ferguson, Captain of this ship. What’s your name, young man?”

“I am Eshel,” he said, his manner once more aloof.
 

“Eshel, our first priority is to make sure you’re well. Doctor, what’s Eshel’s status?”

Vargas replied with some trepidation that Eshel appeared to be healthy and functioning normally.
 

“Good,” Ferguson said. “How can we help you?”

“I seek asylum from Korvalis.”

Stunned at the Korvali’s request, Catherine turned to see Ferguson’s reaction.

Ferguson could not contain her surprise either. “You want asylum? To live with us… to live under our protection?”

“Yes.”

“That’s no small request.” She eyed the Korvali for a moment before she shifted to a softer tone. “Your crewmates didn’t survive your journey.”

His expression clouded over. “Yes.”
 

“They also sought asylum?”

“Yes.”

“What happened to them?”
 

“The Korvali Guard aimed their weapons at our water supply when they could not catch us. The others did not have the capacity to survive under such conditions.”

“But you did,” the Captain said, her tone skeptical.
 

Dr. Vargas chimed in. “We can explain that at the briefing, Captain.”

“Why aim for the water supply, rather than the entire ship?” Ferguson pressed.

“That is not how it is done,” Eshel replied, offering no further explanation.

“We’ll consider your request for asylum,” she said. “For now, we’ll need your assistance in handling the deceased. You’ll remain under guard until further notice.” She turned to Catherine and Vargas. “I want you two at the meeting at eighteen hundred. I expect a full report beforehand.”

“Yes, Captain,” they replied.
 

Ferguson turned and left sick bay.
 

Dr. Vargas turned to Catherine. “Thank you for your assistance, Dr. Finnegan. You’re dismissed.”

Catherine, disappointed at her dismissal and wishing she could stay, saluted Dr. Vargas. She then turned to Eshel and nodded. He returned her nod. With that, she left sick bay.
 

But back in her quarters, Catherine couldn’t sleep. She had too many questions. And there was only one person who could answer them.
 

September 28
th

Hi Dad,
 

You’re not going to believe this. On what has (so far) been a rather uneventful mission, the most amazing thing has happened. I don’t know if I’m allowed to discuss it, but you’re going to find out anyway when you go back to Headquarters, and for once I’m too excited to keep this to myself.
 

The other day, the ship dropped out of FTL. We’re way out past the Katara system, nowhere near civilization. I’m the last to know anything around here, being a scientist and all, but the guys leaked at the poker game that we’d chased down an SOS. They found a small ship with ten dead Korvali on it. But… it turns out one of them was ALIVE and in some kind of stasis. Vargas woke me out of a dead sleep to help him figure out some genetic oddities with the patient. While he and I were blathering about the particulars, we heard a voice—it was the Korvali, sitting up and fully alert! Even Vargas—who we both know is prone to talking more rather than less—was temporarily stunned into silence!

Dad: he survived with no food or water—for more than two weeks—because he altered his own epigenome. GENETICS, Dad! No one’s ever done anything like this before. I know you aren’t especially confident in medical genetics because of Mom and all, but think about the potential implications of this!

You wouldn’t believe his skill with our language. And he was forthcoming with me, and even offered his hand. His hand, Dad, for shaking! I knew it. I knew they weren’t like people say. I knew they didn’t hate us. Admittedly, he was really cold to Dr. Vargas and didn’t seem intimidated by anyone, even Ferguson. I found that funny. Oh, and his name is Eshel.

But on to my main point. I don’t understand, Dad. I assumed these Korvali were on their way to Suna for a scientific meeting and something went wrong… but then he asked Ferguson for asylum from Korvalis! They escaped Korvalis and nine of them died, all because they wanted to leave. Do you know anything about this? Why would a scientist from the most powerful clan of a people who shun outsiders want to leave and live among strangers?
 

Love,

C
 

P.S. I hope you don’t mind my sending this over FTLcom. We’re out of range and I don’t know when that will change. I’ll reimburse you for it…

CHAPTER 3

“Mail,” Catherine said. A moment later, a brief response from her father, along with two attached documents, appeared on her viewer. Keep them to yourself, her dad said. She scanned the first document, a brief report from the Alliance. The report, dated over a year ago, was written by an official from Suna’s military government.
 

One of our patrol vessels, on exploratory detail 0.77 kpc 240 degrees from our Katara solar system, discovered a vessel adrift in space. The ship, very small in size and quite unimpressive in design, was distinctly Korvali. It barely qualifies the title of ship! The vessel was similar to others encountered previously. Our best men very quickly and easily gained entry to the vessel. The vessel contained six Korvali persons, all deceased. The bodies will be handled in the usual way.
 

BOOK: The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1)
8.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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