Authors: Richard Chizmar
Endurance
Praise for S. L. Viehl’s StarDoc …
“Continuously surprising and deviously written and splendidly full of new characters.”
—Anne McCaffrey
“An entertaining, almost old-fashioned adventure … the adventure and quirky mix of aliens and cultures makes a fun combination.”
—
Locus
“
StarDoc
is a fascinating reading experience that will provide much pleasure to science fiction fans…. The descriptions of the various sentient species are so delightfully believable that readers will feel S. L. Viehl has had firsthand encounters…. The lead character is a wonderful heroine….”
—
Midwest Book Review
“I don’t read much science fiction, but I got ahold of
StarDoc
and just loved it—I hummed with enjoyment while reading it. Don’t miss this one!”
—Catherine Coulter
“Rest easy, James White. At last there’s another superlative proponent of space medicine to make you proud. With great style and panache, Ms. Viehl manages a large cast of fascinating characters, leaving no doubt that she is a major discovery in the annals of science fiction.”
—
Romantic Times
“Ms. Viehl writes a riveting tale…. With more than a few surprises up her sleeve, this rising star proves herself a master storyteller who can win and hold a bestselling audience.”
—
Romantic Times
NDURANCE:
A StarDoc Novel
S.L. Viehl
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, January 2001
10 9 8 7 6
Copyright © S. L. Viehl, 2001
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-101-56343-4
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
Printed in the United States of America
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
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For Holly Lisle,
who never ceases to amaze me—
thanks for helping me handle my own
sympathy for the devil.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to thank Gerry Coughlin, author of
Everyday English and Slang in Ireland
, whose online dictionary of the same at
http://www.geocities.com/Research Triangle/8662/irish
provided an invaluable linguistic resource for this novel. (And if I made a hash of it, Gerry, it’s my fault, not yours.)
Chapter Three: Sharp Instruments
Chapter Four: Aksel Drift Nine
Chapter Five: Dire Consequences
Chapter Seven: No More Rescues
Chapter Nine: Twists and Turns
Chapter Eleven: Crying Chambers
Chapter Thirteen: Fully Restored
Chapter Fifteen: Persuading the Pel
Chapter Seventeen: Holding the Fort
Chapter Eighteen: Abrupt Offerings
Chapter Ninteen: The Last Captive
P
ART
O
NE:
Incarceration
HAPTER
O
NE
L.T.F.
Perpetua
“… may it be granted to me to enjoy life and the practice of the art, respected by all men at all times.”
—Hippocrates (460?–377?
B.C.
)
Wishful thinking, Hippocrates old pal. My life was ruined, my practice was over, and I sure as hell wasn’t getting any respect around here lately.
“The Hanar rules over the Hsktskt Faction.” The metallic audio of the automated prisoner-orientation program droned in my ears. I’d been forced to listen to the stupid thing for days. “One maintains rank of Hanar.”
The isolation cell the Hsktskt had thrown me in was small, dark, and cold. I had no clothes. No food or water. Worse, no
lavatory
, only a drain in the concave floor.
You can guess how thrilled I was with the amenities.
“There are two subHanar. Should the Hanar die, the senior subHanar assumes the rank of Hanar.”
“I’ll make a note of it.”
I had little else to do, but sneer at the voice, and wonder what was going to happen to me.
Some of this mess was my fault. I’d been forced to surrender to the League in order to protect Joren, the homeworld of my adopted people. The Hsktskt Faction had shown up to raid Joren shortly thereafter. Again to save Joren, I had helped the Faction capture the League fleet.
My clever strategy had backfired when I learned my new husband, Duncan Reever, had not only summoned the Hsktskt to Joren, but worked for the big lizards. The final blow came when Reever revealed he’d also captured and enslaved my large feline friend, Alunthri.
That was when I’d tried to kill him.
The door panel opened once an hour, when a Hsktskt centuron counted me. I idly wondered how I was listed on the inventory. One short, bad-tempered female Terran thoracic surgeon, maybe?
The guard always flashed a light in my face. That was my cue to say something, like: “Yeah, I’m still alive” or “That you, room service?”
The ten-foot-tall, sextupedal lizards occasionally hissed something back that I couldn’t understand—they’d taken my translation headgear along with my clothes—but it never sounded like
Would you care for tea, Dr. Torin
?
