Cat and Company (10 page)

He was grateful for the darkness, that hid his weakness.

When Brant rested his hand on the back of Bedivere’s neck and patted his back, he knew he had hidden nothing and that made it worse…and better, too.

Bedivere put the glass down and ground the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, getting rid of the evidence. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating dinner?” His voice at least sounded controlled and only a little bit rough.

“Dinner’s finished. They’re sitting around drinking shot for shot and trading war stories about planetary governors they have known and hated.” Brant sighed. “I had no idea Lilly was so interested in politics.”

“She’s drinking with them?”

“Her stories are better than his.” Brant’s silhouette shrugged. “I’ll head back in a minute. I don’t think they’ll even notice I’ve gone. Go on, drink up.”

Bedivere swallowed the shot in two mouthfuls and let out a sigh. “That’s the first brandy I’ve had since I got back.”

“Why? You think if you’re disciplined that way, it’ll cross over to this other shit you have going on?”

Bedivere smiled. That dry, dry tone of Brant’s…he hadn’t heard it for such a long time. “No one was around to drink brandy with,” he replied.

Brant was silent for a moment. “Yeah, well, everyone’s entitled to be a complete idiot once in a while.”

He was apologizing, the only way Brant knew how. Bedivere recognized it with a start of remembrance. “I don’t think idiocy is enough to get me off the hook on this one,” he said.

“I wasn’t talking about you,” Brant said sharply.

“I know. I’m just saying.”

“People make mistakes. Even you.”

“Not this time,” Bedivere said. “This wasn’t a mistake.”

Brant poured them each another shot. “Even now, after all this, you still think she should be with him?”

“It’s Devlin Woodward,” Bedivere pointed out. “There’s no one else who deserves her more than he does. And after ‘all this’, I’m the last one she needs.”

Charlton Space City, New Cathay (Ji Xiu Prime), Ji Xiu System, Perseus Arm. FY 10.187

The first herald of coming trouble was the arrival of a personal pod in local space around Charlton.

Yennifer brought it to Lilly’s attention. “It’s drifting and no one is responding. None of the markings match our records, which makes me think they’re false.”

“It didn’t drift here on currents from somewhere else?” Brant asked. He had been sitting on the front of Lilly’s desk when Yennifer arrived. Connell was sitting on one of the sofas, his head in his hands. It told Bedivere that at least one person had indulged the previous evening. The stresses Catherine’s return had invoked were showing up in strange places.

Bedivere clicked over to the city systems and examined the data flowing from the monitors watching the pod. “It’s nearly out of air,” he observed. “It’s been drifting a while.”

“Or the incumbent is in stress,” Yennifer replied.

“I know how he feels,” Connell muttered.

“Which fits with it not responding,” Lilly replied. “Is it safe to pull into a docking bay so we can open it?”

“There’s…” Yennifer frowned. “Odd signatures.”

“It’s radiation,” Bedivere corrected her.

“The pod would be setting off alarms if it was radiation,” she replied sweetly.

“Not if it’s the passenger who is irradiated. The pod shell would be holding back most of the traces. That’s why you can’t see it properly.” He got to his feet as he checked the stevedore schedule. “Bay three eighty seven in the market section is shielded and no one is in it right now.”

“Thank you,” Yennifer murmured. “I’ll use a tractor beam to pull it in. Then no one need risk themselves.”

“Can we see a visual?” Brant asked, standing up.

Bedivere pulled the feed over to the screen nearest Brant.

“Thank you.” Brant settled in front of it. “It’s a skivver,” he added, studying the view. “Those things are a menace to life and limb. No wonder the passenger is sick.”

“Skivvers have shielding,” Bedivere pointed out. “They barely need it, though. A Varkan can jump as soon as the pod is a hundred meters away from any permanent structures.”

Lilly looked over Brant’s shoulder. “It’s one of those transparent plasteel ones. A seat, jets for maneuvering and a minimalized dashboard. I’m surprised it even has a door.”

“It might not,” Connell said. “Mine cracks open like a bean. And it has plenty of shielding, too. Just nothing to get in the way of the view.” He winked at Lilly. “It seats two. Want to see space up close and personal?”

“No, thank you,” Lilly said dryly. “I prefer a solid wall between me and the stars.”

“Until you try it, you really won’t understand why skivvers are so popular,” Connell told her.

“Then I must go on misunderstanding.” She pointed at the screen. “Whoever it is inside, they’re still moving.”

“I’ll alert a medical team,” Yennifer said. “No one else should approach the pod until the radiation risk is assessed. Got it.” She was standing and staring into middle-distance and while nothing showed on the screen, the pod stopped turning in lazy circles and drifted closer in a straight line toward the city.

The view switched as the pod was brought around to the sun side where the bay with the radiation shielding was located, then drifted inside to hover over the landing pad while the bay held at zero gravity. Yennifer shut the external doors and turned up the gravity slowly, until the pod settled on the floor.

The inner door of the bay opened and medics wearing environmental suits hurried over to the pod, carrying their gear in big boxes.

“Audio, please,” Lilly murmured.

Immediately, a deep voice came through. “…seems to be sitting at intermediate level, well within the tolerances of the enviro suits so we will proceed for now. Mr. Ecci, will you please open the pod?”

“Ecci is the senior engineer for that section of the bays,” Yennifer said before anyone could ask. “The senior medic on site is Yarro Hoang.”

“He’s the one talking?” Brant asked.

“Yes,” Connell confirmed. He hadn’t moved from the sofa to look at the view screen, because he could tap into the feeds directly just like Bedivere was doing. He was sitting back and staring into nothingness as he watched the feed with his digital mind. “If the radiation is already at intermediate risk and they haven’t got the door open…”

“I’ve warned them,” Yennifer said.

The engineer, Ecci, and an assistant used crowbars to lever open the transparent door. The seal broke with a hissing sound and both engineers jumped back, surprised.

“Vacuum inside?” Bedivere asked.

“A slight negative balance,” Yennifer said.

“Mr. Ecci?” Hoang asked. His voice was very calm.

Ecci glanced at the readouts on the sleeve of his suit. “High, but tolerable, if we don’t stay here for long.”

That would mean that everyone in the docking bay would have to go through decontamination procedures afterward. Hoang didn’t hesitate. “Proceed,” he said firmly.

The two engineers opened the door fully and stepped back. The medics pressed in. The pod was small enough that there was barely room for the one passenger-pilot. The plasteel bubble surrounded the pilot almost like a second skin, with room to manipulate the controls and that was all. It would have been claustrophobic, except, as Connell had pointed out, the transparent plasteel gave an unending view of the star field and empty space all around the pod. Bedivere had both piloted and traveled in one, two and six man pods, although there were “busses” available now that took larger numbers. He found the emptiness of space exhilarating, while most humans did not like the feeling of vulnerability it gave them. They preferred their bulkheads and walls and iron doors, and for that reason, the Varkan who continued to offer instant transport upon the more traditional space-faring vessels tended to do better business than the more modern pods.

The pods had become leisure craft and toys for the Varkan, as well as being personal transports.

The pod sitting in the docking bay was a one-man pod, so the passenger was without doubt a Varkan.

“Yennifer, can you get a view over their heads at all?” Brant asked. “The medics are taking up all the room.”

“It is a difficult angle. Let me see….”

The view on the screen shifted and zoomed in on the passenger. He was leaning back in his chair and his eyes were closed. His face was thin and pale and he was completely bald. Not even his brows remained.

Bedivere swallowed. “Gamma and alpha radiation,” he said, assessing the spectrum readout. “He’s glowing with it.”

“The hair loss means he was exposed some time ago,” Yennifer pointed out. “Your analysis, Mr. Hoang?”

The medic looked over his shoulder and spotted the lens. It was impossible to see his face with the protective hood over it. “I can spot three or four different types of cancer without trying, two of them are quite advanced, which means this poor joker has been exposed to long-term low-grade doses. The hair loss is another thing altogether. He recently received a severe and fatal dose. How recently depends on how severe.”

“He’s talking,” Lilly said.

Hoang turned back to the pod. The other medics were injecting the man with a dozen different doses. Painkillers, most certainly. “Don’t knock him out just yet,” Bedivere said shortly. “Let him talk first.”

The pilot was muttering. His head rolled from side to side and spittle ran from the corner of his mouth as he tried to speak. His eyes were not quite open, with only a sliver peaking between the lids.

“What’s he saying?” Lilly whispered.

The volume leapt.

“Spikes…dragons…red eyes…no…not there!”

“Dragons with red eyes and spikes?” Connell said, amused.

“That’s what his very sick mind remembers,” Brant replied. “Not
where
, though?”

“Coming…coming. Go away. Run away…run…” The pilot swallowed with difficulty.

“He’s in pain,” Hoang pointed out. “I must put him under.”

“I know exactly what sort of pain he’s in,” Bedivere said sharply. “Wait just a moment. He’s trying to tell us something.”

Connell glanced at him. He didn’t speak.

Hoang shifted on his feet. “If you insist,” he said shortly. Stiffly.

“I must insist,” Lilly added. “Is there anything you can give him that will help him gain coherency? Even for a moment?”

It was probably just as well that Hoang’s face wasn’t visible behind the hood. His silence was loaded with disapproval. “A neurotransmitter and hormone to the heart will give him a short-lived moment of clarity,” he said, his voice very dry. “But it has side effects.”

“He’s already dying,” Lilly said sharply. “Clearly, he has escaped from somewhere in order to warn people. Let him do that, before you shut him down.”

Hoang sighed. “Very well.” He signaled to one of the medics, who leaned over the pilot and gave him an injection, not straight into the chest, but into his neck.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The pilot drew in a sharp, heavy breath and his eyes opened wide. They were almost completely milky white and sightless. The man turned his head and grabbed at the medic, scrunching the front of his suit up in his hand.

“He’s using Interspace to see,” Connell breathed, shocked.

The pilot sat up and looked at the medic almost as if his sight was fine. The blank white stare was unnerving. “They’re coming,” he said flatly. “Close the gates.”

* * * * *

Once the enviro-suit was removed, they could see that Hoang had silver hair and dark coffee-colored skin and absolutely no patience. He glared at the view screen where they were all gathered to see him, as even more medics in suits fussed around him. A white, sterile therapy center wall was the backdrop.

“He died three minutes later,” Hoang said. “He didn’t say anything else.”

“We saw that,” Lilly said patiently. “We just want to know what your diagnostic equipment discovered. Yennifer would like to access the data, so we can determine where he came from.”

“You won’t find that information in amongst his bio readouts,” Hoang pointed out.

“I have a team of brilliant analysts,” Lilly replied smoothly. “They will be able to infer much from the specifics.”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m just a medic,” Hoang said, with a touch of bitterness. “And I just lost a patient.”

“Be thankful you did,” Bedivere told him. “With luck, the man had not backed up for all the months he was dying, and when he emerges into his new body, he’ll remember none of it.”

“If he
does
emerge into a new body,” Hoang shot back. “Some of you Varkan seem to think you’re immortal. You don’t have mules, you don’t back up…you take the most insane risks and think you’re immune because you can jump through Interspace to get away.”

Bedivere couldn’t refute him. The younger Varkan did sometimes act like they thought their new human bodies were invulnerable, just as their datacores were. It was a troubling rite of becoming a mature Varkan that most of them went through.

“At least you let him say what he obviously needed to say,” Brant said, his voice smooth and calming. “You gave him the time he needed. Now we must find out what he was trying to warn us about. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you sharing his personal data with us so that we can work it out.”

“Won’t the pod controls tell you that?” Hoang asked, frowning.

“In conjunction with his personal data we can build a complete picture,” Lilly told him. “Thank you, Mr. Hoang. Yennifer will contact your AIs to collect the data. We appreciate what you did today. If there is any way we can ease your treatment time, do let me or Yennifer know and we will take care of it.” She glanced at Yennifer and the screen blanked out.

“He’s ethical, which is just what you want in a therapist,” Brant pointed out.

“True,” Lilly murmured.

“I have the data,” Yennifer said. “His AI was very polite.”

“I’m sure,” Brant said with a smile.

Yennifer was sitting on the edge of her chair, her hands in her lap, staring ahead. “Very simple controls. Not even an AI, just advanced computer functions.” She grimaced. “Really, what are they thinking when they head out into space in these things? Perhaps Mr. Hoang was right.”