The Sardonyx Net (59 page)

Zed's face twisted in spasm. “No.”
 

“Damn it, this ship's going to blow in fifteen minutes! Tori Lamonica's at Hole Four, in
Lamia
. Let's—I'll carry you there.”
 

“No.”
 

“You want to die here?”
 

Zed's face spasmed again, not from pain; his mouth made a grotesque and terrible smile. “Yes.” He looked past Dana to Darien's body.
 

“You're crazy,” said Dana. “Rhani sent me here to get you and I'm going to do it, if I have to stun you with her stun gun and take you out over my shoulders.”
 

Zed started to reach for him in reflex rage. He curled, sobbing at the pain. His face writhed. Dana watched. He was sweating terribly; the suit was having trouble keeping up with it. The same internal voice that had spoken before spoke again. It said: This is payment; this is right. Remember what he did to
you?
 

But the sweat rolled down his sides like water over rock, and he kept having to swallow.
 

Before he could change his mind, he rose and went to Darien's corpse. Yanking the stun pistol from her belt, he returned to Zed and held it out. “I mean it.” He checked the dial and turned it to a one-hour stun.
 

When he looked up, Zed was on his knees. “No,” he said. Dana reached to help him. The Net commander snarled, and staggered, unassisted, to his feet. Keeping his hands in front of him, he walked toward Hole Four. Dana stayed behind him. At the closed door, Zed stood aside to let Dana open it.
 

“Tori, I'm bringing in an injured passenger. Get some anesthetic spray and get ready to cut loose. This station's going to blow to bits in ten minutes.”
 

“Clear,” said Tori.
 

Zed went ahead through the lock. Twice he stopped and leaned on the wall. Tori had
Lamia's
door up; she was standing at the door, anesthetic spray in her hand. Her face paled as Zed walked in. “Sweet mother,” she said, and aimed the spray. As it hit the charred flesh, Zed sobbed and nearly fell. Dana caught him under the armpits, and half dragged the Net commander to the lowest of a three-tiered bunk. He put Zed into it. He felt the jog as the lock tube coiled into place, and scrambled to the navigator's chair. “Five minutes,” said Tori. “Damn it, if a hunk of that thing hits me it'll slice the hull like cheese. If only we could Jump—” But they couldn't Jump. Unlike some planets, Chabad was not in a hyperspace current. Dana had no idea what happened to ships that tried to use the Drive when not congruent to a current; nobody did. If anyone had tried it, they had not come back from wherever they had gone.
 

“Accelerating,” Lamonica said. “Hold tight!” Dana took a deep breath. Tori flashed him a grin. He let it halfway out. The ship hummed. He was pressed into the seat, harder, harder, his muscles began to scream—Tori was pushing the ship to the limit. Ten gees. He watched the gauge climb. Twelve gees. Fifteen gees. The blood began to drain from his head and settled in his feet. If the thrust exceeded fifteen gees, he would certainly black out. He saw red: There goes a capillary, he thought.
 

The thrust stayed at fifteen gees for fifteen seconds, until the numbers on the compscreen said they were a quarter of the distance back to the planet. Then Tori slowed to one gee thrust. She used the compensator to reduce the gravity to three-fourths gee. Dana stretched as the pressure subsided. “Better check your patient,” Tori warned.
 

“Stars.” He hurried to Zed's bunk. The Net commander's eyes were open. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he was conscious. Grabbing a cloth, Dana wiped the blood away.
 

“Bad?” he said. “You want more anesthetic? A pill?”
 

“No,” said Zed. He sat, very slowly. Dana marveled at his strength. “I. Just. Bit. My. Tongue.”
 

Across the room, Tori said, “LandingPort Station, this is
Lamia
. Tell Chabad our mission's completed and we're on our way home.”
 

“Clear, Starcaptain. Congratulations on your success. We'll notify—"The voice broke off into a muttered oath.
 

A second voice, thinned with awe and incredulity, said, “Jesus god.”
 

Tori punched the unit to silence. She said, “I guess we know what that was.”
 

Tori set course for the Abanat Main Landingport.
 

There was nothing for Dana to do. He went to the food unit for water and a food bar. Glancing at the silver-and-blue suited figure in the bottom bunk of the right-hand tier, he raised his voice. “Zed? Do you want a narcotic?”
Lamia
's medikit, like the kit of any MPL starship, was equipped with several different narcotics.
 

“No.”
 

Dana walked to the bunk. Zed was paper-white. His facial muscles twitched. Fluid dripped from his hands. The sheet was damp. His pupils were pinpoints; pain lines like gullies ran from the corners of his mouth. It was easier to look at his face than at the fingers that stuck out from his wrists like sticks out of a fire, coated thickly with hardened spray. His eyes were dull. Suddenly his brows went up. He croaked, “Make. You. Feel. Good?”
 

“No!”
 

Zed's eyes closed. His body heaved. Eyes locked shut, he said, “Make. Call. For. Me.”
 

“What call?”
 

“To Tam Orion. Message to—Sai Thomas. Medic. Main Clinic. Tell her—” he fought to breathe, sucked in air, continued, “bring burn trauma team. Get Ja. Narayan. Name's important. Narayan. Surgeon.”
 

“Why?” asked Dana.
 

Zed said nothing.
 

“If you want me to call, tell me why.”
 

The air hissed through Zed's teeth. His face contorted harshly.
Make you feel good
? The mocking question teased Dana's mind. The stench of burned flesh pervaded the cabin like the smell of some drug. He had hoped to see Zed Yago thwarted; he had not expected to see him helpless and hurting. It did not make him feel good. It made him want to be sick. He looked at the wall clock. Tam Orion could be home in bed. The clock was calibrated in Standard. He had forgotten how to think in Standard. He had forgotten how to think. He was tired. He walked to the navigator's chair, working it out: it was not quite dawn over Abanat.
 

Chabad bulged in the vision screen. He switched to audio communications. “Abanat Flight Tower Control, this is
Lamia
, MPL48; home registry, Nexus; pilot and owner, Starcaptain Tori Lamonica; navigator, Starcaptain Dana Ikoro; passenger, Zed Yago. Permission to berth?”
 

“Permission granted, Starcaptains. We've been expecting you to call.”
 

“Thank you, Flight Tower. Request for personal communication to be delivered to chief pilot Tam Orion from Zed Yago. This is urgent. Message to be relayed to medic Sai Thomas at the Abanat Main Clinic. Please bring a burn trauma team to the Landingport to meet us, and a surgeon named Ja Narayan. This communication's important, Control.”
 

“Clear, Starcaptain. It will be delivered. Please keep your computer locked in.”
 

“Bitchin' Control,” said Tori.
 

Dana rubbed his eyes. His head felt thick. With longing, he thought about ten hours' sleep. He went back to Zed's bunk. The burned man had not moved. As Dana leaned over him, his eyes opened. “I made your call,” Dana said.
 

Zed's mouth flickered in what might have been a smile.
 

Tori brought
Lamia
in like a snowflake on a breeze. As they settled into the black, powdery surface of the Flight Field, the com-unit said stridently, “
Lamia
, this is Port Administration. We understand you have a casualty in there. We have a medical team standing by. Please open up.”
 

Dana answered, “Administration, we've called our own medical team. We're not opening up till it arrives.”
 

“We have authority to examine your casualty!”
 

Tori said, “This is Starcaptain Lamonica. Stuff your authority up your nose.”
 

Dana rubbed his arm. He had forgotten all about the slave mark. He walked to the bunk. “Zed?” he said.
 

“Uh.”
 

“How do I get this tattoo off my arm?”
 

“Gel. Sai. Will. Know.” He lifted his head to stare at Dana. “Need.” His face spasmed. “Water.”
 

Dana brought him a cup of water, and held it to Zed's lips so that the handless man could drink it.
 

A woman's voice said, “
Lamia
, this is Sai Thomas. Sorry it took me so long; first they had to find me and then they had to wake me up. You have a patient for me?”
 

“Ja. Narayan,” said Zed.
 

Dana said, “We do, Medic. Is Ja Narayan with you?”
 

“Ja's coming from home.”
 

Dana looked at Zed, who nodded. “I guess we can open up.”
 

Tori released the doorseal. People swarmed in. They were not familiar with starships. They climbed up awkwardly over the doorlip, not knowing what the ceiling bar was for. Tori Lamonica simply pointed toward the bunk. Zed said, “Hello, Sai.” The woman saw his hands and drew her breath in sharply. Then she started giving orders. The team stuck a needle in Zed's arm and attached a tube and bottle to it. They coated his hands with white foam. They slapped gel ampules on his neck and both his arms. They brought in a stretcher and put him on it.
 

One medic left the ship and came back. She approached the Hypers. “One of you needs a slave tattoo removed?” she inquired.
 

Dana tried to roll up his sleeve and discovered that he still had the pressure suit on. He took it off. The medic spread gel from a tube over the tattoo. It was cool. She said, “Let it harden. In about six hours you can peel it off and the tattoo will be gone. With your skin pigmentation, there should be no scar.”
 

A long hand reached over the doorlip. A rangy body leaped for the ceiling bar. Dana stared at the stranger who swung himself onto
Lamia
like a rope uncoiling. A voice said in his mind,
So you're Dana Ikoro. Thank you for taking care of my friend. I'm Chief Pilot Orion
. Dana opened his mouth and then closed it. He turned to Tori. “Chief Pilot Orion: this is Starcaptain Tori Lamonica.” Tori held her hand out. The tall man did not take it, but suddenly she smiled. With quick steps, Orion went to Zed's bunk and loomed at the backs of the laboring medics.
 

The medics muttered at each other, and formed into a procession directed by Sai Thomas. They were taking Zed through the door. Tam Orion stopped them by standing in the doorway. “Please move,” said Sai Thomas.
 

“Wait.” Zed had opened his eyes. “Tam.”
 

Orion folded his thighs until his face was on a level with Zed's head. “Hurt?”
 

Zed breathed out. “Not. Too. Bad.”
 

“Help?”
 

“Nothing. You. Can. Do.”
 

Sai Thomas said roughly, “The faster we get you to the Clinic, Zed, the sooner Ja can get to work on your hands.”
 

“Yes,” said Zed. He glanced at Tori Lamonica. “Tools,” he said. “Replace. Proper.”
 

Tam Orion made a gesture of assent and stood aside. “
Did you understand that
?” he said. “
Zed's asked me to replace the equipment you lost effecting his rescue
.”
 

Damn him, Dana thought, we want nothing from him! But his answer did not seem to reach Orion at all, and Lamonica, predictably, was accepting the offer with delight.
 

“
Have a good trip home, Captains
,” the chief pilot said. He swung out of the ship. Dana watched the medics maneuver Zed's stretcher. The smell of the foam and of burned flesh lingered in the cabin. A Landingport mechanic delivered a heap of tools through the door, and went away. Dana munched on a food bar. His head was cotton. He returned to the navigator's chair and stared at the numbers bouncing on the compscreens. “I want to make a direct-line call.”
 

Tori was watching the numbers. “Don't let it take too long. I want to get out of here.”
 

He called Rhani. She answered instantly. “You look like I feel,” he said. There was little color in her face; it was the white of dried bone.
 

He said, “Darien Riis was a cop, pointed at Zed by Michel A-Rae. He decided he could break you if he could take Zed away. Darien killed Jo Leiakanawa and blew up the Net. She had strong anti-slavery feelings. Zed shot her with a cutting laser. He's at the Abanat Clinic in the care of a medic named Sai Thomas and a surgeon named Narayan. I'm leaving on
Lamia
.”
 

She said, “They called from LandingPort Station. They told me he was alive.” Her eyes were dark with exhaustion. “I'm grateful to you.”
 

“We had an agreement.”
 

She reached to him, touched the screen, and drew the hand back. Her shoulders straightened. “Good-bye, Starcaptain.”
 

Inexplicably, it hurt that she should choose to call him that. He wondered what her waiting had been like. LandingPort Station would have told her that the Net was gone, blown to dust. Now she knew that she had Zed back again; Dana wondered what she thought of the price. “Rhani—”