Regeneration (Czerneda) (57 page)

Hearing the odds in the hangar shifting her way at last, Mac grinned. “Hi, Fourteen. Is Ureif there?”

“This is Captain Gillis, Dr. Connor.”

Or not.
Her grin faded. “Captain. I’d like to get out of here.” She put aside her body’s sudden agreement on that point.
There was a bottle handy.

“Then unlock the door.” Reasonable.

Mac put her hand on the Wasted.
Not dead yet.
She glanced at the corpse.
Still dead.
“Once Ureif is here.”

Reason gave way to official outrage. “The Sinzi-ra is busy trying to keep the Interspecies Union together in this part of space, Dr. Connor!”

“So,” she replied coolly, “am I.”

She wasn’t surprised by the ensuing silence, well able to imagine their faces as they tried to decide if she’d been through too much at last, or this was as serious as she claimed. Cayhill would be shaking his head sadly, but with a triumphant “I warned you about her” in the look he’d give his captain. Fourteen would have his hands over his eyes, worried about her and unable to do anything about it. The captain would appear thoughtful. While Mudge . . .

. . . he’d know.
Maybe not what she had on board, but that she did have something—someone—with her she wouldn’t risk being revealed without the Sinzi-ra’s authority at hand.

There was, of course, a point beyond which she couldn’t push Gillis, not on his own ship. If this had been one of the
Joy’s
shuttle fleet, he’d have already ordered its door opened and have the codes to do it. Because this modified lev was Dr. Norris’ pride and joy, a man he must believe was dead on his watch, she didn’t think the captain was prepared, yet, to order his crew to cut their way inside.

Mac estimated she had no more than a half an hour left. She eyed the bottle.

“I am here, Dr. Connor.”

Ureif’s voice. Mac checked the time. Twenty-one minutes
. He’d cut it tight.
Something else had been occupying him; whatever it was, she was about to complicate it.

“Sinzi-ra.” As she went to the door, she ran her fingers through her hair, finding a patch of something sticky.
So much for personal grooming.

She opened the lev door.

Captain Gillis hadn’t taken any chances. A semicircle of armored and armed guards posed threateningly, so close they had to shuffle back when Mac sent down the ramp. Both Sinzi, accompanied by Grimnoii, stood beyond that barrier with Gillis and Townee; Mudge and Fourteen beside them; Cayhill and a small knot of orderlies relegated to some distance away.

This well-thought out arrangement lasted only as long as it took her appearance to register, then Ureif and Mudge were on the move, Gillis only a step behind. The guards took the hint and lowered their weapons, stepping out of the way. Not fast enough for Fourteen, who shoved the nearest aside with both hands.

Mac lifted her hands to slow the stampede. “Nothing a shower won’t cure,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t hurt.”

Whether she convinced them or not, protocol paralyzed them at the base of the short ramp: the Humans unwilling to get in Ureif’s way, the Sinzi-ra attempting to defer not to the captain, but to the ashen-faced Mudge.
Exceptional awareness,
she judged, relieved to be right. Not to diminish Fy, but this was a Sinzi of Anchen’s caliber.
They all needed that.

And while manners sorted themselves out, Fourteen ran past them all and thundered up the ramp, shouting, “Idiot! Idiot!” He stopped short of grabbing her in a full hug, perhaps realizing that would ruin his favorite paisley shorts, and settled for patting her shoulders. “There are others to take such risks,” he scolded all the while. “Others of less value or interest. You should not have gone.”

“Glad to see you, too,” she said.

Then Mudge was in front of her. Fourteen stepped aside without a word.

Judging by his expression, she looked worse than she thought.
If he’d offered concern or sympathy, she might have faltered, begun to react to the past few hours. Instead, a calm question. “What do you need, Norcoast?”

“A stretcher,” Mac said immediately, having made her own plans. “Medical facilities within our portion of the ship. Guards and vids for that. And one of those bigger parts bins.” Mac pointed down the hangar to where crew had stopped pretending to work on another shuttle while such interesting events were underway in their area.

Mudge nodded and, collecting Fourteen with a look, went back down the ramp. The two moved apart to allow Ureif to advance, the captain close behind. The captain spoke first, eyes wide. “You’re sure you’re all right, Dr. Connor?”

As she nodded, Ureif lifted one graceful finger to indicate her shoulder, his mouth turning down. “This is Dhryn blood.”

Mac backed into the lev, mute invitation. There wasn’t room for the other two to fully enter, but she doubted they’d want to anyway. Not once they saw what waited.

The captain’s hand flew up to cover his mouth and nose, eyes staring. He managed not to retch, but beads of sweat formed on his forehead. For an instant, the Sinzi’s fingers trembled, their blood-red rings sounding like the first hit of freezing rain on dry grass, then they stilled.

Both looked at her.

“Don’t worry. The walker’s dead,” Mac assured them, well aware their reaction wasn’t to the Wasted. She gestured to the unconscious being. “He killed it before it could attack me.”
Learning how was high on her list.

Gillis spoke through his hand. “Dr. Norris?”

“We were exploring the
Uosanah
when I heard the walker in one of the holds. While I hid, he went to call for help.” Her voice came out flat and strange.
Just the facts.
“When he tried to come back for me, the Ro’s thing ambushed and killed him.” There was a rise in the sound levels outside.
Mudge and Fourteen.

Gillis’ hand dropped away. His mouth worked before he spoke. When he did, the words were harsh and accusing. “You left Norris there—”

“He’s got company,” Mac replied wearily. “The rest of the Dhryn are dead.”

For an instant, she thought he meant to strike her. Then Gillis shook his head, the blind rage in his face subsiding into something more rational. His eyes flicked to the corpse, his throat working as he swallowed. “How the—never mind, I don’t think I want to know. Good work, Dr. Connor. Good work.” Real warmth. “What now?”

She wasn’t surprised by his self-control.
This
was
the captain of the Ministry’s latest and greatest.
“We need to preserve the body. And,” she gazed up at the so-far silent Sinzi, “to invite IU scientists on board to learn everything they can from it. From both factions,” she emphasized.

This was the key,
Mac thought, hardly breathing.
Let those who still believed the Ro were the IU’s saviors see this nightmare of flesh for themselves.

Gillis’ eyes took on a gleam.

A cool finger’s tip traced Mac’s cheek. “I am overcome,” Ureif said, and bowed his head, the white gown whispering with the movement. “What you propose . . . it offers profound congruence.”

“I thought you’d like it,” she grinned.

Mac didn’t like where she had to spend the next hour. Instead of following either Wasted or corpse, or even providing a full briefing to someone, she was sent to decontamination and abandoned to the overzealous ministrations of orderlies with a hose.

Cayhill’s revenge,
she judged glumly, lifting her arms for yet another spray. She wore her rings, nothing more. Her imp and the little salmon carving sat in a bag, waiting where she could see them.

Humans hadn’t been members of the IU long enough—by millennia—to be acceptable hosts for anything worse than Nerban shoe fungus.
And that only stuck to soles for a ride elsewhere.

When they were done scouring every centimeter of her skin with pointless biocides, Mac thanked the orderlies for the cleanup.
No denying she’d been filthy.
She thanked them for providing clean crew coveralls and slippers.
Her latest clothing having been sent to disposal.
Though she hadn’t much else anyway. Consular staff hadn’t fully appreciated the rigors of life in space.

She didn’t bother to thank them for the sandwich she pilfered on her way out.

Kaili Xai was waiting to escort her wherever. Mac smiled with relief, glad to see someone familiar. “Be honest,” she said lightly. “Did they leave me a face?”

Kaili smiled back, then made a show of peering closely. “I think you’ve lost some freckles.”

Mac shrugged. “More where they came from—and where are we going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

The calm question took her aback.
Returned with corpse and guest from a disastrous unauthorized mission, complete with loss of its leader?
“I thought,” Mac ventured, “there’d be some yelling.”

“Oh,” Kaili’s expression turned serious. “Enough of that going around. Half the ship is being turned into a consulate and the captain has his hands full fielding delegations to the Sinzi-ra already.” A dimple. “I’m sure he’ll yell at you eventually.”

“No hurry,” Mac said. “In that case, I know exactly where I want to go.”

As she and Kaili walked to the Origins section, Mac wolfed down her sandwich and then began peppering her companion with questions. The orderly might not be an officer or have bridge access, but Mac doubted even Townee had as thorough a grasp on what was happening on board.

Kaili, who’d taken a certain homesick biologist under her gentle wing the year before, was happy to share the latest gossip. “Oh, no one minds,” she replied, when Mac asked about the crew’s reaction to the sudden changes. “Might be different if it weren’t the Sinzi, but, gad—isn’t it amazing, seeing them walking around? Everyone’s sending mail home about it. I never thought I’d see one in person.” She gave a shy smile. “I even spoke to Fy. She came with Charlie to the dispensary for eyedrops. Graceful. Polite. Quiet. She made me feel special.”

“Charlie?”
Mac’s lips twitched.
Poor Mudge.
Aloud, “I tend to feel I’m wearing my work boots around them.” They turned a corner and she waited until a couple of crew passed them before continuing. “What do you mean, everyone’s sending mail? I thought there was a ban.”

“Just while we were gatebound.” Kaili made a rude noise. “You can bet that wasn’t popular. The
Joy
may look like a warship, but we’re more a glorified customs inspector. Sure we’ve all simmed on combat rigs, but the tightest we’ve had to play it was that business with the Ro. At that, the most we did was orbit Myriam and wait on the scientists. I’d expect a mutiny if the captain tried to shut us up here.” She laughed. “Or my parents’ll register a complaint.”

“I’d like to call to my dad,” Mac said before she thought.

“It’s not quite talking,” explained the orderly. “One stream of newspackets goes into the gate, addressed to Earth or wherever. Another set returns. They squeal at close to light when they hit the system. The bigwigs can arrange for sequencing, which is close. If both speakers are near a gate, the time delay can be seconds. But regular folks like us make do with a two- to three-hour swing. Still, keeps you in touch. Last I heard from . . .”

Mac let Kaili’s voice drift by, nodding at the right places.
Plenty of time for some judicious editing,
she thought, almost appalled to feel reassured.

They didn’t use intership transit, the medlab not being that far. Kaili made Mac laugh with tales of her newly retired parents’ efforts to coax an Earth-type garden from their yard on Mars. For her part, Mac talked about her brothers, finding unexpected peace sharing Owen’s fall from dignity upon fatherhood and skirting like an abyss how much she could use Blake’s advice.

“Not taken, hmm?” Kaili’s teeth gleamed in wide smile. “You should introduce us, next pass by Earth. He sounds yummy.”