Dana Cartwright Mission 3: Kal-King (28 page)

“You’re right, DD. His electrolytes are a little off. He’s weighing in at just under four pounds.”

Dana handed over the bottle. “He’ll need frequent feedings, until he reaches normal birth weight. That’s what the medical journals all say.”

Korwin chuckled, as he cradled Eloren and the baby sucked hungrily upon the bottle. “You have those memorized, too?”

Dana nodded.

“How long was Micah gone last time?”

“Just a few hours…”

“How does she return?”

He heaved a sigh. “At first as a cloud over her host, and then…well, you’ll see. You can’t tell anyone,” he cautioned.

“PK, you’re going to need a full-time nurse. Wait! An android-nurse… Wasn’t LittleJohn rated as one?”

Korwin waived the baby bottle in the air. “Good idea… Yes, he’s perfect; LittleJohn was totally reprogrammed after the assassination attempt, and Micah isn’t afraid of him.”
 

He handed Eloren over to Dana’s arms and set the bottle within reach, rushing out to make arrangements.

Shalee chuckled softly as Dana took over the nursing duties.
 

He could have waited until the diaper was changed.

They both had a hearty laugh.

You and Kieran will have beautiful children,
Shalee added.

We can’t,
Dana quickly countered.
My DNA has mutated beyond my tribrid parentage.

Dana? Your sister, April, has already solved that issue. She’s brilliant.

Holding Eloren set Dana to wondering.

Before she could respond, a cloud appeared filling the doorway. Shaped a bit like an egg, but on a much larger scale, it shimmered at first iridescent silver and pink. Then, it coalesced into a humanoid shape. Finally, as Dana watched, Princess Micah’s cloud form began to merge with the host body.

“You look refreshed, Your Highness,” Dana commented, observing professionally.

Micah rose from the bed, crossed to the closet, selecting a caftan and changed into it.

“I’m so sorry about that.”

Dana offered a smile. “Just in time for burping and diapers.”

Micah quickly took back her son. “Where’s PK?”

“Programming LittleJohn to be a nursing assistant for you.”

“What an excellent idea! He’s perfect.” Micah gave her son a kiss. “You’d think after all these thousands of years there’d be a solution to diapers.”

“Your species…”

“No, we don’t,” Micah responded. “Did you finish your brunch? Please do?”

“Thank you, but I need some rest, too.”

“There’s a suite across the hall.”

Dana declined. “I also have some thinking to do, but thank you.”

Micah set Eloren in the crib for a nap, and then walked Dana to the door, reminding, “See Baker about security codes and don’t forget to order anything you need for your cabin. There are some nice shops at the spaceport.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“EM… Just EM,” Micah said with a wink.
 

Dana retraced her steps to the foyer.

Palace staff called for a smaller skip to return her to the spaceport. She relaxed on the front bench seat as the globe dome came down, and watched the scenery flow by, taking a long, hard look at Forever Pointe until the route turned away from the river.

She closed her eyes, recalling the memory Kieran had given her so many years ago, with all the vivid details, soaring high above those cliffs, steering the kite with gentle body movements.
 

Dangerous? No! It was breathtaking.

Had the skip not stopped automatically, waiting for a security code to open the bay doors, she might have spent hours outside. Baker was there. He used his code to open the hatch.

Once the skip sank down onto the deck inside the bay and the globe top popped open, she stepped out.

All was quiet.

Katana
’s hatch dropped down on command and retracted after Dana boarded. Lights inside winked on when detecting movement, and dimmed after her passing.

Still wearing her uniform, she stepped inside her cabin and set the door lock, a habit she picked up when aboard
Kal-King
.

The bed looked too comfortable. She settled down, suddenly exhausted. There were many things she wanted to do, to have the link-reader download additional pediatric texts and such, but instead she dozed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Hours later, Dana awoke, enjoying for a few moments the total and blessed silence.
 

She slid off the bed, unbraiding her hair, letting it float freely. She took off the staff uniform, hung the coat and pants in the small closet, took out a silk, rose-colored flower print, lounging kaftan, sliding it on over her head.

After giving her curls a thorough brushing, she went to the desk to pick up the link reader.

Something Princess Micah had said was troubling. The Republic databases held little information about the Fet-Kah race, and even less about their anatomy and physiology. In fact, Micah was a shape-shifter, assuming any racial characteristics at will.

Having seen the Princess as an energy cloud made Dana wonder.

 
How does an energy being mate with an Alphan? And give birth? And what about the host?
 

The readings on the host body were equally intriguing, unlike any other member race of the Order of Allied Republics or among the Non-Allied Worlds.

Did that make Prince Korwin’s child a tribrid?

What about a tribrid and an Alphan?
 
A quadbrid…
 

She lamented her own situation, “Do I dare ever have children?”

Of course, all the dastardly warnings her guardian, DOC Cartwright, had spouted, all came back in a glaring flash. As a medical doctor, she couldn’t avoid the fact that DNA mattered. It made every race, every genus of animal different; and mixing unlike DNA could create…well…August.

There were whole libraries discussing the consequences, not to mention the ethical issues.

Republic policy, though deliberately vague, highly recommended limiting such relationships.

The Treaty that the conference had reviewed would have banned all research and, especially, that done as cloning, which altered DNA.

The writer of the treaty was none other than Doctor Jocelyn Cartwright.

Dana’s mouth fell open. She had no idea her adoptive brother’s wife authored the draft. Jo wrote extensively about the hazards of such experimentation,
 
every word pointed directly to Dana and her siblings.

Digging deeper into the archives, Dana found the damning evidence, hidden all these years from her.

Jo Cartwright nee Collins began her OB/Gyn career as a DNA and fertility specialist at Station Four. She knew Kyoko Dey, DOC Cartwright’s second wife, and even wrote the requests for a grant to fund the cloning experiment.

Jo Cartwright supervised the lab that had created Dana and the others.

Doctor Jocelyn Collins-Cartwright and Doctor Berg of Centauri Prime ran the whole research program at Station Four. And Doctor Berg was a 33rd Degree Prince of the Elect, son of Doctor Santero, former Alphan Ambassador to the Republic.

It all made sense as Dana connected the dots.
 
They all knew; and they all had lied.

Was Jocelyn Collins-Cartwright Dana’s unknown mentor?
 
Could it possibly be?

Dana slammed the link-reader down on the desktop.
 

It had to be!

Janz slept. He wasn’t sure for how long, but long enough for the medication to wear off. The vertigo returned, exacting its revenge. He telepathically pleaded to Kieran for help.
 

Soon, Doctor March answered the call with a security officer watching attentively.

With arms at his sides, the Doctor reminded, “I can’t help without a medical kit and an injector.”

The security officer tapped the voice-badge on his collar. “Commodore, is it permitted to give the doctor medical devices?”

Kieran Jai answered, “Yes.”
 
Not long after, he stepped inside the cabin with one in his hands, passing it to the doctor.

Janz’s head lolled to one side in preparation for an injection.

March used the scanner first. “Did August do this?”

Kieran responded, “Yes, some form of projectile weapon at close range.”

“Some acoustic traumas heal themselves. It can take weeks.” The Doctor spent more time lower. “There’s a great deal of inflammation at T-2, just above the spinal weave.”

“Dana will have to check him.”

“I’ll add an anti-inflammatory.” After March administered the injection, he asked, “Am I your slave now?”

“There are no slaves in the Republic.”

“So, I’m free?” he started to store the medical scanner back in the case.

“If Dana doesn’t press charges...You did point a weapon at her and Captain Carver.”

“I don’t remember what happened,” March countered, as he helped Janz move from the robo-chair to the bed and adjusted the spare bed pillows under both knees to relieve some of the pressure on the spine.
 

Janz thanked him with a hand signal and sighed.

Kieran sent a telepathic message to his brother.
Can we bring you anything?

Just need to sleep.

March set the medical kit and injector on the desk, and turned to follow the Commodore out. “I could use some coffee.”

“I’ll join you.” Kieran led away. The cabin door slid shut after the security officer.

The lights dimmed, but Janz stared for a long time at the ceiling, tracing the patterned squares, willing the pain to a tolerable level before entering meditation. Tears welled up.

Dearest?

Yes, my love.

I don’t want to live like this. Deaf. Crippled.

Be strong, my love.

Shalee?

Shh…

He felt her essence and closed his eyes, remembering her slim form as it was the day they mated. The joyful memory far outweighed the discomfort.

Sleep, my love. Sleep
, Shalee counseled.

Dana showered and dressed in her Tonner III jumpsuit and boots, leaving her hair loose about her shoulders. The chronograph showed it as morning local time. She couldn’t tell inside the landing bay, but once the skip reached the promenade, under the dome, bright daylight shone from the triple suns.
 

She stopped the skip along the mall, at a small coffee shop that boasted on a blinking sign, “100% Earth-grown beans.”
 

A few spacers sat inside at the counter, tough men without uniforms, and one lone female, probably human, with a long braid of strawberry-blonde hair.
 

Dana slid onto the vacant stool, next to the blonde, ordered black coffee, sweetened, savoring the aromas from the beans roasting, while waiting for the delivery.

“Duplicator coffee just cannot compare with fresh brewed,” the woman on her left offered, “nothing better in all the galaxy.”

Dana nodded in agreement, eagerly taking up the ceramic cup the clerk set before her. She sipped, all the while deliberating how to graciously decline getting involved in further conversation, sensing empathetically deep turmoil in the woman’s psyche.

 
The matter resolved, when a wrestler-sized humanoid male approached, demanding of the woman, “Are you ready?”

The blonde quickly vacated her stool and meekly followed the man away.

The clerk looked after them, spouting an Alphan expletive much stronger than Dana would ever dare to translate.

When the clerk looked her way and announced, “They didn’t pay.”
 

Dana offered, “I’ll get it.”

The clerk declined. “No, not your debt. These half-breeds! They come. Don’t know customs. Don’t respect locals.” With a head shake and another blurt of expletives, the clerk cleared away the half-empty cup, slamming it into the recycling chute.
 

“At Tonnertown, they make you pay first,” Dana announced.
 

“Just so,” the middle-aged, stocky brunette said, focusing on Dana.

“You have interesting eyes — mismatched — like our Prince had when a youth. Human?”

Dana hesitated to respond, considering the clerk’s tirade.

Baker showed up at her elbow with impeccable timing. Still in uniform — it looked like yesterdays — he sank down onto the stool beside Dana and ordered a coffee, “Black and sweet,” and then added, “re-fill the Captain’s and put it on my tab.”
 

While they waited for the clerk, Baker reached inside his jacket, producing a sealed envelope. “From Prince Korwin... He asked if you would outfit the ship with pediatric necessities, while we’re still at spaceport.”

Dana shrugged, accepting the thick packet. “I had planned to do some shopping. Don’t mind expanding the search.”

“Most places will deliver to the holding area. Then security personnel scan the packages, and stack them inside the bay for loading aboard the ship. Just give the bay number to the sales clerk.”

“Great,” Dana nodded.

Baker savored his first sip in silence. Though she sensed he wanted to ask her some personal questions, she beat him to it, thinking to get the conversation started, “Do you keep an apartment?”

“Yes, here at the sunward side. My older sister and her husband stay there, too, since I’m gone a good deal. What about you?”

“I used to keep one on Earth, but Ambassador Taurian insisted I live aboard
Seraph
. I lost everything…in the crash.” She decided that covered all he really needed to know.

“You have a photographic memory?”

How he knew that, she wasn’t certain, but Dana felt strong reservations about revealing the extent of her abilities.
 

“Bet it comes in handy,” Baker continued.

She merely nodded, and drank down the warm brew. “Guess I had better get started. Thank you for…”

He placed a fiver to cover both their cups, with a hefty tip.

“My pleasure, Captain,” Baker offered, lingering over his cup as she slid off her stool.

He followed her with his eyes until she got into the first available skip, but she felt his attention long after programming the car to take her to a specialty store.