Girl Gone Nova (31 page)

Doc did a mental pull back, focusing on the wider view again. It didn’t just remind her of another ship. It made her brain waves explode. Data pelted her like a meteor shower. She fought for control, but she didn’t need it to see what he saw. Conan’s ship looked very similar to
their
ships. It was a bad copy, if that was the plan, but she didn’t think it was. She’d seen
this
one, no, she’d seen
a plan
for this one somewhere. It must have been fleeting or not attached to any operational necessity, because she couldn’t place it. She just knew she’d seen it. Her brain on Garradian influenza refused to make the connection for her. That wasn’t good. Usually her brain loved connections, the more obscure the better.

He swung back to face her. “Is this ship from your galaxy?”

Doc didn’t hesitate. “No, though I can see why you’d think it was.” She rubbed her face, left her chin resting on her hands. She hesitated, wishing she wasn’t so far off her game. “Did the General tell you why he was so determined to stay on Kikk?”

“He gave me a reason, yes.”

Doc almost smiled. One of them would have to quit being cagey. Guess that would be her. He didn’t know how. “Did he tell you about the portals?”

“Yes.” Some slight tension eased in his shoulders. Then the tension returned. “You think this ship is somehow related to that?”

“They went somewhere.”

“Two of your years is not enough time for what you are thinking.”

So the General hadn’t told him all of it. He might be annoyed with her, but what was he going to do? Kill her? “We have reason to believe the portals can send people through space
and
time.” This time he couldn’t hide his shock. While he dealt with it, she added, “We’re pretty sure the trip was out of galaxy, but no one knows for sure where or when.”

She could have told him they all thought the trip was to Earth, but that would involve information not hers to share.

“The General thinks you can bring them home?”

“The General hopes.” She hesitated again and wondered why she bothered. “They bring me in when a situation is deemed impossible. My skill set is…diverse.” She could tell him it wasn’t this diverse, but again, why bother? Whatever plan the Major had, would not be happening now.

He stared at her for what seemed like a long time. His smile was slow and heart-stopping. “I am unsurprised. And surprised to be unsurprised.”

Doc chuckled.

“Can you do it?”

That killed the chuckle.

“I told the General that sometimes the impossible is impossible. Time travel is above my skill set. And—” She stopped. There was the whole dying thing. It was kind of funny really. She’d done hundreds of impossible things, and she didn’t know how to tell him she was dying. “I’m sick.”

It was a wimp out, but surely she was allowed one. He looked almost relieved, which was odd, and wouldn’t last.

Hel had wondered what was different, what felt wrong since she came on board. The sharp lines of who she was seemed blurred. Now he knew why. She was ill.

“You and your people call it the Garradian influenza.” The bruises under her eyes were dark and tiny pain lines scored the skin around her eyes and mouth.

They had named it for the Garradians because they did not know where it went or when it would return.

“Sorry about the germ exchange during the kiss.”

“I have had it. You only feel like you are going to die.” He smiled ruefully and felt something cold track down his back when she didn’t smile back. “The kiss was worth it.”

“Six of our people have gotten it in the last month,” she paused to bite her lower lip, “and they’re all dead.”

His body jerked, his heart, too. “That’s not possible. It is uncomfortable, but—”

“Our immune systems are different from yours.” She frowned. “We were aware of the immunity problem, but it’s been two years with just minor problems. This came at us out of nowhere.”

“It takes many seasons for it to cycle through the galaxy.” His words were absent, his mind on a frantic search for an answer, proof she was wrong. She wasn’t—he couldn’t think it, refused to believe it.

“I should have thought of that. Our flu viruses hit every year, but we’re all on the same planet.” She rubbed her temples as if they pained her.

“How long?” It pained him to ask. Her lashes lifted, her gaze met his. When had this woman become so important to him? He’d given himself many reasons for coming out here to secure her release. Failure tasted bitter in his mouth, but it wasn’t as bad as the painful bite of grief. He’d known her briefly, but already he knew she would leave a hole in his heart bigger than when his bond mate died.

“Twenty-four hours. Maybe. Probably less.” Her mouth had a weary droop to the edges. “General Halliwell needs this intell.”

“We can give him your report when we dock with the
Doolittle
, unless you think he needs the information sooner?” Hel noted the shock in her eyes before she could hide it. “You are surprised.”

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times.

“Yes.” Shock gave way to amusement, though weary still dominated the landscape of her face.

“It shocks you that I would deliver the
Chameleon
to Kikk.” That word should have surprised her, but it didn’t. With the shadow of death hanging over her perhaps she’d lost the capacity for surprise.

“Yes,” she said again. She leaned back in her chair. Her mouth curved, the slight movement deepened his despair. “Why?”

It was a good question. That she’d expected his original plan would have amused him a few moments ago. What had happened to her during captivity didn’t amuse him. The memory of how she’d looked when he brought her aboard would haunt him for many seasons. He reached out and secured her hand, lightly touched one of the angry scratches marring the smooth pale skin, felt a shift in the walls that kept his alter egos apart, felt them begin to merge.

“Why did they leave you out in that storm?”

“They didn’t leave me. I left them.” A flare of anger put faint color in her pale cheeks, showed she was not dead yet. “I shot Conan and used the storm for cover.”

“If I hadn’t had the frequencies of your personal beacon, I might not have found you in time.” He hesitated, not sure he wanted to know. “For how long were you out in it?”

“All night.” Her expression wasn’t hostile, just closed.

“Feldstar has long nights.” Her slight nod signaled agreement. “You fight hard to be free. You risked your life to be free. I don’t wish for you to fight to be free of
me.
”
He’d never wanted to fight with her. His mind refused to produce what he did want to do with her. It wasn’t possible now anyway. He didn’t want to believe she was dying, but he had to. It was there in her eyes. This was a woman who knew when to fight and what to fight. She wouldn’t give in easily, but she would conserve her strength to finish her mission.

His reward was a smile, it was wan, but one of her real smiles. It reached her eyes, turning them purple for him. For those eyes to dim with death, it was wrong.

“How can I help you?”

The smile widened, then faded into weary. Her shoulders drooped, too. “You don’t want to be around when I need help. It’s not…pretty.”

He stared at her, lifted one brow, managed to control his horror when she outlined what was coming.

“I have treatments for this in my medical kit which should help ease your symptoms.”

“That’s good.” She looked away. “Best thing to do is get me to the
Doolittle.
They’ll be able to keep me comfortable until it’s over.”

She was a long way from the dangerous woman who had paced the edges of the party. She looked beaten up and beaten down, but her courage shined through the battering to her body and in her bruised gaze. She could have given up, given in while down on the planet, but she hadn’t. She’d fought to be free, so she could pass on what she’d learned. He knew this about her, though he wasn’t sure she knew it.

She traced a pattern on the tabletop, and he knew there was more.

“There is more you wish to tell me?” He kept his voice neutral, a bit soft and saw her relief, though he didn’t understand why.

“If I become delirious or incoherent, do you have sedation medication on board?”

“I do, but I hardly think…”

She pinned him with a look. “I’m dangerous when I’m in control of my mental faculties. I don’t know what will happen when I’m not. It is possible I could become a threat to you, this ship, or myself.” Now she looked like the woman he’d first noticed at the reception. “I’ll try to give you a heads-up, but you need to be ready and willing to take me down, by whatever means are necessary.”

He saw, he sensed more than she said, felt something bubbling below the surface that seemed to frighten her more than the flu, more than dying. If this was the only way he could help her, then so be it.

“I’m always ready and willing to do what I must, Delilah.” He kept his voice even and saw relief wash over her face. She needed his strength more than she needed her own, so he would be strong for her. He refused to spend his last hours with her in mourning what couldn’t be changed. She deserved better from him and she would receive it. “You will wish to create a report for the General while you still can.”

He rose, extended his hand. She took it. He thought it would be cold, but it was hot. Already her eyes seemed deeper in their sockets. He pulled her up and into his arms, felt her body burn everywhere it touched his.

“You are very hot.”

“I’m guessing you don’t mean that in a guy-looking-at-a-girl way?”

“No,” he said, though he didn’t understand the question.

“I’d better hurry with that report.” She leaned against him for a moment. “And we need that fever medicine now.”

* * * * *

Vidor found it an easy matter to track the Earth squadron of ships. As expected, they returned to the Kikk sector. He knew about the hidden outpost. He knew about all the outposts.

Was Morticia the Doctor of their history? Bana believed she was. Frustration coiled in his gut again. He’d had her and lost her. Whatever she was, whoever she was, he had to complete the mission. It was the only way to be sure. The time frame to find her was small. Once the attack began, her life would be at risk with the rest of her people, if she had returned to them. While he knew he should let her die with them, he wasn’t ready to give up on securing her for himself. They might be wise and get out of his way. If they weren’t wise, he would blow them out of his way. He couldn’t fail. The future of his people depended on him.

Her people interested him, he could admit to himself. They did not react as he expected, did not do what he expected. On Historlet, where he had secured Morticia, they had launched a vigorous search. They’d tracked her to the capture point and also collected her ship debris in space. Her escape rig had broadcast a signal that they had destroyed, but perhaps not before her people had locked on. They’d transported close to that spot. He did not know how they tracked her to where they intercepted her. Possibly some of her people were skilled trackers. Once there, there were signs of a struggle, he had to concede.

On Feldstar, they had scanned the planet without breaking orbit and left as abruptly as they’d arrived. There was no escape rig sending a signal on Feldstar and no life signs for them to find. That might explain the short visit. If they had been looking, Morticia made sure there was something for them to see, something that brought them to the planet when he’d dropped his cloak. His ship did leave a faint energy signature when it entered hyperspace. His information was that they had this technology. Why hadn’t they followed it? Instead, they’d headed for Kikk. That seemed to indicate they knew something, possibly where Morticia was?

He considered the small trader ship that had scooped her up in front of them. An impressive performance. Had it been an orchestrated effort, or had the trader scooped them all? He’d attempted to track it, but either the pilot had been lucky or clever. His energy signature had been mixed with the Earth squadrons, almost as if the pilot knew what course they’d take.

What all this told him was that he needed to take care when it came time to act against them, to not assume he knew what they’d do. They were skilled and unpredictable. To win this, to secure his people’s future, he must be better and do better than them all.

He felt Bana’s presence before she spoke. “Are you ready to leave?” He knew his tone was brusque. It was not her fault, but it felt like it was.

“Of course.” Her tone was its usual calm one.

He turned now. “Why are you so sure she’s the one?”

Her chin tipped down, as her expression turning pensive and inward. Finally she looked up again. “I met her, just before she died.”

“But—” Vidor shook his head.

“She was very old.”

“Why would they let you visit her?”It made his head hurt to think about her in the past and in the present. It felt wrong.

“My mother cared for her. One day the girl who cared for me was ill.” She made a half motion that could have meant anything. “Like everyone else, I thought she’d died long before. I was a child, but I remember her eyes. Her voice. Even there, on the edge of death she was…willful.” She smiled at the memory. “My mother warned me not to speak of it, and I never did. I was a child, but I knew.”

“What did you know?”

“That she was remarkable.” A soft laugh.

He stiffened. “You know her name. You knew her name on Feldstar.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Meeting her again, like this, I understand better.” Her gaze caught his now and held it. “She couldn’t be forced then. You will not be able to force her now. The only thing you can do for her is to stop her from going through that portal. You must kill her.”

“She escaped,” he said, his voice tight with the truth of her words. “I don’t know where she is.”

“She’ll make her way back to her people.”

“Tell me her name.”

“Delilah Oliver Clementyne, but she liked to be called Doc.” She hesitated, then turned and left him.

She was right. There was nothing more to say, much to do.