Weird Space 2: Satan's Reach (14 page)

“And this kid, this woman. You two...?”

Harper shook his head. “She’s a passenger, that’s all. I’m taking her to Kallasta, fleeing the aliens who think they own her.”

“What she like?”

Harper described Zeela: slim, black, pretty...

“Oh, Christ, man... and you two aren’t...?” He made a choking sound like an indrawn breath. “What’s wrong with you, Den? Hell, if only I had the chance...”

He fell silent. Harper looked through the viewscreen to where starships came and went like scintillating insects.

As close as he had been to Miro Tesnolidek, he’d never told him why he’d gone on the run from the Expansion, what had happened to push him over the edge... what had made him the man he was today. He’d told no one that, and doubted he ever would.

Miro said, “And this girl, you say she might not pull through?”

Harper shrugged. “I got her into a clinic as soon as we arrived. Grade A. The best money can buy. They said it was touch and go. The kid... she’s in a bad way.” He shrugged. “We’ll see...”

“Tough,” Miro said. “I hope she pulls through.”

Harper smiled. “Thanks.”

He was more than a little uncomfortable, talking medical matters and clinics with Miro. The fact was that his friend’s condition could be cured, or at least ameliorated, if only he could lay his hands on sufficient funds. He needed a comprehensive somatic scouring, a stripping down to his skeleto-muscular frame and building back up again. Conservative estimates put the cost of his treatment at two million units. Some medics quoted five million. Harper had said that if ever he came into a fortune...

“I’ll get the work done,” Miro said. “I’ll get my team working on it, pronto.” His claw swung up to a camera lens in the corner of the room. “And don’t worry, it’s all in there. I might forget all hell and more, but my boys always check the cam.”

“I appreciate that, Miro. I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

“See you then, Den. Hey, shake?”

Harper moved towards the cage and, in a game of trust that he’d never shied away from, he extended his hand through the bars and slapped his friend’s chitinous claw.

He left the hangar and took a dropchute down to the radial slideway, then rode the slide to the station’s core.

As he made
his way to the spindle where the hospital was located, his wrist-com buzzed.

“Den,”
Judi
said, “just to update you...”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve been monitoring on all frequencies, and the Ajantan ship is in orbit around the station.”

“What about Janaker’s ship?”

“No sign of that one so far, but it might be hanging back. I’ll keep scanning. Any further word on Zeela?”

“Not yet. I’ll keep you posted.”

He cut the connection. At least the bounty hunters hadn’t followed him here, yet. The problem with the Ajantans was that he had no idea about their ship’s capabilities – which was why he’d thought it wise to arm his own ship. When the Ajantans decided it was time to move in, he would be ready.

He arrived at the spindle and took a dropchute down to the hospital on level seventy-five. Six hours ago he’d called ahead and arranged for Zeela’s admittance, squirting the med-pod’s diagnosis along with his credit details. The fact that his bank balance was almost zero had worried him to begin with, until the clinic’s admin department had assured him that they would consider his ownership of
Judi
as collateral.

The sliding door of the dropchute opened and he stepped through.

He passed through the identity check and made his way to ward twenty, his apprehension mounting. The physician and his medical emergency team on duty when Harper had arrived with Zeela had been non-committal and brusque. The medic had studied the med-pod’s report, but admitted that he’d never come across dhoor withdrawal symptoms and couldn’t possibly hazard a guess as to Zeela’s chances. All he could say, all things considered, was that it was touch and go – and that if she had arrived at the hospital any later, then she would not have pulled through.

And if Zeela’s treatment proved prolonged and exorbitant, what then? He’d considered this earlier, on leaving the hospital. The worst case scenario would be that he’d have to hire out his ship to cover the cost of her treatment, and remain with Zeela for an indefinite period on the station... which, with the Ajantans and the bounty hunters on his tail, was not an option he wanted to consider.

A nurse on reception took his details and indicated a seat. “Ms Antarivo is currently in the critical unit, Mr Harper. I’ll have a specialist update you just as soon as possible.”

“You’ve no idea how she’s doing?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Harper. If you’d care to take a seat.”

For the next hour he tried not to consider the possibility that Zeela might not pull through. He’d known her for less than a week, and yet they’d been through a lot together. He wondered if what he felt for her was similar to the bond that existed between a father and daughter.

He stood abruptly and began pacing the corridor. For Zeela to pass away now, after all the hardships she’d overcome... Harper believed in nothing other than fickle, arbitrary fate – and at times he wished fate would manifest itself as an incarnate form so that he could attack it, vent his rage and frustration in a physical act of cathartic violence.

“Mr Harper.”

He jumped at the sound of his name. The nurse at reception indicated a door to his right. He hurried to it, knocked and entered.

He was surprised by the spaciousness of the room, and the fact that it looked out onto the star-flecked vastness of deep space. An elegant, dark-haired woman sat behind a triangular silver desk. She rose, rounded the desk and took his hand.

She introduced herself as Consultant Gina Di Mannetti, and indicated a seat.

On his way to the clinic, Harper had considered employing his ferronnière at this meeting, but decided against it. Physicians employed euphemisms, and if Zeela wasn’t going to make it then he didn’t want to read the raw fact in the head of some dispassionate consultant. He wanted euphemisms.

“How is she, Doctor?”

Di Mannetti smiled. “For a tiny, insubstantial wisp of a thing, addicted for years to an opiate-analogue, and suffering from multiple organ failure... I’d say that she’s doing remarkably well.”

“She’ll survive?”

“We performed a liver and kidney flush this morning, Mr Harper, and a total blood transfusion. She’ll be up and active in a day.”

He took a deep breath and felt light-headed. He was aware that his smile must appear insane.

“Your quick thinking in getting her here undoubtedly saved her life,” Di Mannetti said. “I must admit that I’ve never treated a case of dhoor withdrawal before, though I’ve heard of the drug. I specialise in the study of xeno-biological pathogens, and I consider myself fortunate that Ms Antarivo happened along when she did. I was due to leave the Station yesterday, but as fate would have it my ship was cancelled.”

“Can I see Zeela?”

Di Mannetti consulted a screen on her desk. “Ms Antarivo is conscious, so I see no reason why not. If you would care to come this way.”

Harper followed the physician from the room and along a wide corridor. They paused outside a door and Di Mannetti indicated an observation panel. He peered through.

Zeela lay on a bed, outfitted in a white shift. She appeared tiny, elfin – more like a child than a young woman.

He looked at Di Mannetti, who nodded. He pushed through the door and approached the bed.

Zeela looked up and her smile illuminated her features. “Den!”

They embraced, the girl stick-thin in his arms. “It’s so good to see you!” she said.

“It’s great to see you, too. You gave me one hell of a fright.” He sat down beside the bed, clutching her hand.

Di Mannetti stood at the foot of the bed. “Ms Antarivo requires a few hours rest and recuperation, but I see no reason why she won’t make a full recovery. Of course, there is the ongoing factor of her addiction to take into consideration.”

“Zeela’s still addicted?”

“Technically, yes. But I’ve been working on a relatively harmless synthesis of the addictive compound of the drug, which I’ll prescribe when Ms Antarivo is discharged. If she takes this in decreasing doses for the next month, then I see no reason why her recovery should not be complete.”

She looked from Zeela to Harper. “I’ll leave you two alone for a while, Mr Harper. We have a few technicalities to discuss, so if you would return to my office in ten minutes...”

Di Mannetti left the room.

“I think by technicalities, Den, she means how we might pay for all the treatment.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it all sorted out.”

She brightened. “You have? But the ten thousand units from Ajanta wouldn’t...”

“Shhh,” he said. “I told you, it’s all sorted out, okay? We’ll have you out of here and on your way to Kallasta in no time.”

“And what about the Ajantans?”

“No sign of them,” he said, another white lie to add to the first.

“And the bounty hunters?”

“I think we safely gave them the slip on Tarrasay.”

She smiled at him. “What have you been doing while I’ve been lazing around?”

“Looking up old friends, planning our route.”

“We’ll make it okay, won’t we? I mean, what with the bounty hunters and the Ajantans after us.”

“We’ll make it okay,” he assured her. “I’m taking steps to ensure that.”

“Steps?”

“Later, when you’re out of here. Right,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I’d better go and see what Her Highness wants.”

At the door, he waved and slipped from the room.

He found Di Mannetti’s office, knocked and entered. He resumed his seat at the point of the arrowhead desk. “You mentioned technicalities?”

Di Mannetti looked from her screen to Harper. “Ms Antarivo’s treatment has been intricate and expensive.”

“How much?”

She smiled. “I’m delighted that you appreciate that healthcare is primarily a matter of business,” she said.

“We live on the Reach, so what isn’t?”

“To answer your initial question. The cost of Ms Antarivo’s treatment, the operation, the drugs, the aftercare, and of course my own fees... would come to a little over seven thousand units.”

He nodded, keeping his expression neutral in a bid to hide his shock. “I see...”

He would have a thousand left over after paying Miro’s fee, and perhaps another thousand in scrip aboard the ship – but even if he could sell the steamboat engine here on Amethyst he would be unlikely to realise five thousand for it.

“That’s... more than I was expecting.”

“I take it that you do not possess the immediate funds with which to cover the cost?”

“You state the case with refreshing eloquence, Doctor.”

She smiled and tapped her chin with an elegant forefinger. She said at last, “I understand that you work as a star trader?”

“That’s correct.”

She glanced at her screen. “And that you own your own starship?”

“Right. But I’m in no position to sell it in order to finance...”

Something in her expression halted his words. She said, “Selling your ship is not an option, Mr Harper. But there is another way.”

“There is?”

“Ms Antarivo mentioned that you are heading to the world of Kallasta.”

Intrigued, Harper nodded. “That’s correct.”

“In your travels have you ever been to the world of Teplican?”

“Teplican... The name’s familiar. Wasn’t there a colony there at one time, a hundred years ago? As I recall, the colonists left rather suddenly.”

“There was a mass emigration from the planet perhaps ninety years ago. It wasn’t particularly commented upon at the time. The various colony worlds are largely autonomous, and what they do rarely makes the news. But historians have since wondered exactly what happened.”

“Which is very interesting, Dr Di Mannetti, but I don’t see the relevance...”

“Evidence has come to light that there might have been a medical reason for the colonists’ flight from their world. As I am a research xeno-biologist, this excites my professional curiosity.”

“Ah...” Harper said.

“I was due to take a ship to Teplican yesterday, but the flight was cancelled and the next one will not be for another month, which doesn’t fit in with my busy schedule.”

“I see,” he said.

Di Mannetti went on, “Now, the cost of a flight to Teplican is approximately that of Ms Antarivo’s treatment, which I would be willing to underwrite, if...”

Harper stared beyond Di Mannetti, to the star-strewn blackness of space. As far as he knew, Teplican was thirty light years from Amethyst Station – the flight there would be a rather longer leg of the zigzag course he’d planned anyway, but would serve the same purpose as it was in the general direction of Kallasta.

He smiled, leaned forward, and held out a hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said.

“T
RY NOT TO
show your alarm when you see Miro,” Harper told Zeela as he assisted her across the ringing deck of the hangar. “Stay close to me and we’ll be okay.”

He could see Miro Tesnolidek hunched beside the blunt nose of the ship, looking more like an alien crustacean than a human being.

Zeela gripped his hand and stared. “But what happened to him?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when we’re under way,” he said. “I’ve just got to look over a few things with Miro, then we’ll be off.”

Dr Di Mannetti said, “I’ve read about Tesnolidek. He’s the only case of Stanislav parasitism to have survived.”

“If you can call what he’s become survival,” Harper said.

“And I was beginning to feel sorry for myself...” Zeela murmured.

Harper smiled at her. Since picking her up from the hospital that morning, he’d experienced the strong desire to protect the tiny woman. Di Mannetti had assured him that she was making excellent progress, but even so Harper felt the need to cosset Zeela. He’d instruct
Judi
to keep her supplied with healthy meals and nutritious juices for the next week.

“What is Teplican like?” Zeela said as they approached the ship.