Endurance (24 page)

Noarr set me on my feet, then guided me to another portion of the crystal tower. We ended up at a wall, where he placed his hand on the solid surface, and pushed. An entire section silently swung inward, revealing another hidden passage, which we entered. Noarr paused long enough to shut the invisible door, and I saw my reflection on the interior.

I looked awful. My face appeared drawn and gaunt, my hair was a snarl of knots, and my tunic needed a thorough decon. But I stared at the reflection, amazed not at what I saw, but that I saw anything at all.

“How were you able to drill through the crystal? Where did you get the mirrors to conceal the entrances to these tunnels?”

“The tunnels already existed. The Lok-Teel deposit a substance which creates the mirror effect.” He urged me forward. “We must hurry.”

“You’re too big to be a Reedol.” Hurry, my foot. “Mind showing me your face?”

He pulled the hood from his head, revealing a hairless skull half again as large as my own. “Satisfied, woman?”

I’d never seen his species before. I’d have remembered the unusual swirls of white pigmentation curving over every inch of his dark brown face. Or were they some form of tattoo? He had a large head with heavy-lidded, shadowed eyes, and a small, full-lipped mouth. More curved, white ridges followed the lines on his high-arched nose.

The eyes were veiled by the protrusion of his brow, but something less than civilized lurked in those shadows. Noarr was, I decided, not a person to be trifled with.

Neither was I.

“Where did you come from? Are you a slave? How did you get into the pit? Why do you want to get me off Catopsa? How can you do that?”

“I cannot answer these questions now.” He pulled me along after him down the hidden corridor. “I will take you to your infirmary. Stay there and out of sight for now.”

“I can’t do that. I have to treat my patients.”

He thought about that for a second. “If the beasts ask why you have returned, say it was on the orders of the Terran OverMaster.”

“Right. Like they’d believe that.”

“They will believe.” The white spirals on his cheeks shifted as he gave me his rather startling version of a grin. “You belong to him, do you not?”

“I don’t belong to
anyone
.” We’d reached the end of the corridor and faced another mirrored wall. “Hold on. Are you the one who moved those infected females over to the male tier?”

“Yes. The infirmary lies beyond.” He took out a small device and aimed it toward the wall. “Readings indicate no one is in the corridor. Go, now.” Noarr turned to head back down the passage.

I caught the edge of one flowing sleeve and tugged. “Wait. I want to know more about these tunnels. How you make that fungus into mirrors—”

He removed my hand and stepped back. “There is no time for that now.” His full cloak swirled and he was halfway down the passage before a low “Farewell, woman” floated back to me.

Namesake

Nurse Dchêm-os dropped an entire tray of instruments on the floor when I finished cleaning up and walked out from behind a berth partition. “Doctor!”

“Keep your whiskers on, Zel.” I spied Vlaav, who was staring at me as though I’d risen from a postmortem table. “How are the meningitis cases?”

The Saksonan shuffled his footgear, then eyed me with a nervous expression. “They weren’t responding well to the intravenous cephalosporin, so I’ve switched them to synrifampin derivatives.”

He’d done exactly what I would have. “Carry on, Doctor.”

I had a great deal of work to do and probably very little time in which to accomplish it, so I gave Zella a highly abbreviated version of what had happened, without mentioning the tunnels or Noarr by name.

“Thanks for bringing me the rations,” I said to the nurse, not bothering to hide the speculative tone in my voice.

She wouldn’t look at me, and shoved a stack of charts in my hands. “For what I did, my family would have me torn to pieces. For my moment of weakness, do not thank me.”

I put the charts aside. “Explain that to me.”

“Mean, what do you?”

“Why did you make a vow to kill me?”

Zella turned and started for the inpatient berths, then stopped. Without looking at me, she removed her headgear. “They killed eight members of the crew, when the Hsktskt boarded the
Perpetua
. My genitor, one of them was.” She looked back at me. “I swore to avenge him, that is why.”

“I see.” I’d never been told about the deaths. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You responsible, I held.”

I pushed the hair from my brow, and tried to think of what to say. Only the truth mattered. “I was.”

“You were, yes.” She retreated to the berths and began her vitals checks on the patients.

I could wallow in the guilt, or I could work. I ended up doing both.

To my utter astonishment, I discovered halfway through my first shift that Noarr was right. A Hsktskt centuron who reported for a minor laceration questioned my presence, only to accept the bland excuse completely. No one else bothered to ask.

Maybe the Hsktskt didn’t run quite as tight a slave-depot as they thought they did.

FurreVa’s infants had gained control of two limbs and were now confined to her chamber. The infants toddled and crawled around a “playpen” made of two quasi-quartz walls with plasteel panels clamped between them. Inhibitor webbing kept the kids from crawling out. During my house call, I checked the healing grafts on her back, then asked if she had reviewed the text data on the reconstructive surgery.

“I have.” She handed the data chart back to me. “Although I am not versed in the terminology, it seems very ambitious.” She looked over the web at her young. “Dangerous, as well.”

“You’ve put your life in my hands before,” I said. “I can do this procedure safely. But ultimately the decision is yours.”

“I do not wish to look like this”—she touched her face—“for the balance of my existence.”

I’d take that to be a yes. “Then we’ll do it.”

She removed several containers of what looked like synthetic, pulp-laden blood from her prep unit. “I must feed my brood.” She set them a good foot apart from each other inside the “playpen.”

I didn’t want to watch the babies slurp that up, so I left and went on to my own chamber. Jenner was waiting for me, and I programmed a much more civilized meal for my “baby.”

“Dried catfish bits for you, lucky guy.” I set down the large server. I wasn’t hungry, so I headed for my pallet. The chime of an incoming signal startled me—I hadn’t noticed the new com console someone had installed in my quarters. Slowly I went over to answer it.

What if it’s Reever, and he wants to know how I got out of that pit
?

Taking a page from Noarr’s book, I decided to tell my Lord and OverMaster that TssVar had released me.

Speak of the Hsktskt. TssVar’s gleaming eyes coalesced onto the vidisplay, and I took an involuntarily deep breath. “OverLord?”

“Dr. Torin. You will report to Compound Command tomorrow.”

“For what reason?”

“Pre-trade inspection.” He terminated the signal before I could ask another question.

“Well, that tells me a lot.”

“I could tell you more.”

I whirled around to see Reever standing at my door panel. “Learn how to knock, will you?”

“I ordered you confined to the isolation pit for fourteen rotations.” Reever walked in and closed the door. “How is it that you are released after only five?”

“Apparently OverLord TssVar needs me for this pre-trade business.” It wasn’t really a lie. And I could get back out of that pit, if he threw me back down in it. But if he noticed my PIC had healed and vanished again—the edge of my pallet hit the back of my legs, and I stopped shuffling away from him. “What do you want?”

“The truth.”

“That’s it.”

“You’re afraid of me,” he said, as though it was some huge revelation. “Why? Because of GothVar? What did he do to you?” I gave him an ironic stare. “What did he do to you
on the ship
!”

“I have to get some sleep now.” I sat down and pulled back the linens. Torn and bloodstained, I noticed, and shuddered.

“I know why you don’t wish to talk about it.” Reever sounded almost sympathetic. No, I was tired, and my ears weren’t functioning correctly. “I endured a similar ordeal. I can help you.”

I’d thought I’d felt every feasible emotion toward Reever—dislike, affection, infatuation, and abhorrence. Apparently not.

I gazed at Reever’s hands. “You want to sympathize, is that it? Tell me all about your tragic childhood?” Something trickled into my veins, something hot and fast. “You enslave me, bring me to this godforsaken rock, throw me down a pit to starve to death, and now you want to
help
me?”

His brows drew together. “I ordered you be given daily rations.”

I stretched out on my pallet, every muscle coiled with outrage. He genuinely expected me to believe that waste. “I need to sleep. Go harass someone else.”

“I saw you after GothVar branded you here and on the ship. This unnatural reaction you’ve experienced will require treatment.”

The man simply had a death wish. I flung an arm over my eyes. “And when did you graduate Med-tech,
Dr.
Reever?”

“I understand how you feel.”

“What?” I jumped up and went after him. Both of my palms slammed into his chest, sending him staggering back. “You,
understand
me? You think you know how I
feel
? You’ve never understood the first thing about me. You don’t feel anything. You look human, but that’s all!”

“I’ve never been human.” He seized my hands before I could hit him again. “Neither have you. That, I understand.”

There was another of those long, silent intervals between us where a lot could have been said and wasn’t. He let go first. I went back to my pallet. I didn’t look at him again, and only when the door panel opened and closed, did I finally relax enough to bury my face in my pillow, and wish I’d let Duncan Reever die back on K-2.

I stopped by the infirmary on my way to report to TssVar the next day, only to find the entire assessment area trashed and Pmohhi treating Vlaav for a sprained elbow.

“I tried to stop them,” the Saksonan said, and moaned as I took over from the nurse and assessed him. “They insisted they were here, that we were hiding them.”

“More prisoners missing?” I glanced at the League nurse, who nodded. FurreVa wasn’t in any shape to do this. “Which one of the lizards was in charge?”

“The one with no brow.”

“That does it.” I wrapped Vlaav’s arm and encased it with a soft splint, then went over to the console and signaled Reever.

He regarded me with evident disapproval. “Why have you not reported to Command?”

“Because that idiot GothVar trashed my infirmary, that’s why.” I calculated how much damage had been done. “Half the equipment is ruined. Replace it, and get some of your precious lizards down here to clean up the mess. Then I’ll report to Command.”

“Report now. I will see to the infirmary.”

I waited until the centurons showed up before I left anyway. Let Reever and TssVar stew about my insubordination, I thought as I stomped off to Command.

A centuron intercepted me on the way, and directed me to follow him. We caught up to TssVar as he headed to the outer perimeter structures.

“You are late,” he said as soon as he saw me.

“Your guards trashed my infirmary,” I said. “What is this pre-trade inspection you want me to perform?”

“The traders now insist all slaves be inspected and certified disease free before they leave Catopsa.” Before I could formulate a reply to that, the OverLord cast a large yellow eye in my direction. “Do not think to
falsely certify any of them unfit for trade, Doctor, or I will close down your infirmary.”

So much for Strategy Number One. “What if I don’t
want
to do these inspections?”

“I will close down the infirmary until you do.”

And Number Two. “How many prisoners are you selling today?”

“A small group. Fifty.”

There were more than fifty traders waiting in the huge trade commons when we entered. No sign of the merchandise, though. TssVar ordered the guard to take me into another chamber off the main structure, and there I found the prisoners waiting to be sold. The guard handed me a scanner and a data pad.

“Inspect them, and send them out when you are finished. Detain any who are unfit for sale.”

The centuron went back out to the commons. The slaves all looked at me with varying degrees of despair, disgust, and outright hatred.

I squared my shoulders. “Do you know what happens to unfit slaves?” Several of the group made affirmative gestures. “Good. Let’s get started.” Since no one appeared to be anxious to volunteer, I pointed to a handful of prisoners. “You, you, and you. And you two over there. Come here, one at a time, please.”

The first shuffled over. It was a Whelikkian albino, and looked on the thin side. A quick scan revealed some minor malnourishment, but no disease. “Okay.” I recorded the results on the data pad. “What’s your name?”