Beyond Varallan (23 page)

“Your path could have been diverted!” the Senior Healer shouted as she yanked me to my feet.

I coughed convulsively. “You okay?” I asked, when I could breathe again.

The children were in good shape. Some had minor burns, but the majority were simply scared. My boss hadn’t fared as well. Tonetka was covered with lacerations. Dust greyed her hair, and her usually immaculate tunic was a tattered rag. She'd torn up most of it to bind the children's wounds. Dark splotches marred the smooth blue skin of her face.

“What happened to you?” I demanded.

“The corridor panels collapsed on me.” She pointed back to the debris pile. “The children were able to pull me out before the fire started.”

I turned my head, trying to locate a way out. Then I saw it, and gasped. “Mother of All Houses.”

Behind the Senior Healer, an entire section of the hull had been blown out into space. The invisible buffer was all that stood between us and the killing vacuum.

“We have to get them back through that gap.” I pointed where I had come from. Tonetka was already busy binding my leg with a strip of her tunic. She straightened to gauge the opening. At the same time, a disjointed com signal announced that the section buffer field was weakening. As if we needed more problems. “Let’s get the flames out first.”

Tonetka shook her head. “The extinguishing equipment won’t work. I have tried manual override, but the backup panel malfunctioned.”

I looked around for something we could use. I spied the classroom equipment. “That,” I pointed to a large plastic tub.

“It is too small, and will melt,” Tonetka said.

I nudged the lid up and pushed it aside, revealing the hundred pounds of clean, sterile sand inside. I knew it would be there. After all,
I
was the one who had explained the Terran concept of a sandbox to these kids.

“We can pour it on the flames,” I said. “It will extinguish even the chemical fires. Get some of the bigger students to help us.”

We passed out containers to the older children and formed a Terran bucket brigade. Tonetka and I took up positions by the fires. The kids passed full containers of sand down to us. We emptied them on the flames and passed them back. In a few minutes, all that was left was smoldering components and a heap of sand-covered debris.

“That’s it,” I said. “Let's get them out of here!”

Tonetka nodded, and gestured to the children. “Listen carefully now. Wrap your hands with strips of your clothing. Do not touch anything for very long. Move as quickly as you can.”

She tried to examine my ruined hands, but I yanked them away.

“Later. We’ve got to move,
now
.” I turned toward the opening and shouted, “Xonea! We’re sending the kids through! Get ready!”

“Ready!” a distant, muffled voice called back.

It took both of us to boost each child up to the gap. As their weight fell against my burned, broken hands, I said some words I hoped the kids would forget. We kept hoisting them up. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Finally we pushed the last child through.

I turned to Tonetka. “Let’s see how well you can climb, old woman.”

She eyed the gap. “Piece of bread.”

“
Cake
. Piece of
cake
.” It hurt to laugh. “Wait till you get to the top. Come on, let’s go.”

“You must go first, Cherijo.”

“Age before beauty.”

“You won’t be able to climb with your hands. I will have to lift you.”

I looked down. So much for my surgical career. “You’d better not drop me.”

Tonetka cradled my face with her hands, and gazed into my eyes. “I bless the Mother for the day you became our ClanDaughter.” She even kissed my forehead.

I scowled up at her. “Yeah, I honor you, too, you stubborn old battle-axe. Now give me a boost.”

I was the same size and weight as most of the kids, but Tonetka had to push me up by herself. With a string of curses my vocollar ignored, she thrust me up to the gap.

Large hands were waiting to pull me through—Xonea’s and Hado's. I made it without bruising my already abused body too much. Xonea saw my hands and leg, and cursed. As soon as my feet touched the lower deck, I turned and called out to Tonetka.

“Come on, Senior Healer!”

Hado put a hand on my shoulder. “Healer Cherijo. You must come away from this area, now.”

A strange sound and subsequent vibration shuddered through the level. Had the mercenaries somehow followed us? The huge pile of rubble shifted, as if it was sliding over, away from us.

It was collapsing. On top of the Senior Healer.

“Tonetka!” I screamed, but Xonea was helping Hado pull me away. “Hurry—we’ve got to—” My hands wouldn't work right, I couldn't get them off me. “What are you doing? Help her!”

Hado looked at the opening with a sad expression. “She cannot fit through the gap.”

“I’ll make her fit!”

“Cherijo!” Xonea shook me. “You must see to the children!”

Small cries of pain finally penetrated my fury. I grabbed the front of my Chosen’s tunic as best I could, and thrust my face close to his. “Listen! I don’t care how you do it, get her out of there!”

Xonea nodded. I let go. He went back to working on the panel with Hado.

One of the nurses sprayed my wounds with skinseal, against what she told me was her better judgment. I ignored her. I gloved while I bit back a shriek of pain, then went to treat the wounded. Four entire classes of children had been rescued. Most were suffering from shock, minor burns, and smoke inhalation.

More injured were brought out from a collapsed section. They were educators who had been in a planning session when the attack occurred. Two were dead. Three more died on the deck as we tried to keep them breathing. Their bodies weren’t just burned, they were
charred
.

Crew members from all over the ship assisted in removing the critical cases on litters. When those ran out, the injured were simply carried off in strong Jorenian arms. I had just stabilized one of the children for the move when an ominous rumble shook the deck. The sound of tearing alloys ripped through the air. I glanced toward the obstruction, saw it shaking, and ran.

“Tonetka!”

Xonea and Hado stood a few feet from the pile of rubble, still fiddling with the emergency controls.

“Get her out of there!” I screamed at them.

“We cannot. The buffers are too weak.” Xonea caught my arms. “They have already begun to reform. She has chosen her path!”

“The hell she has!”

Another vibration shook the level, then the rubble collapsed and disappeared out into space. All that was left was a huge, empty hole.

“No!” I shoved Xonea away from me and ran up to the buffer. Debris floated just beyond the gap in the hull. I pounded on the invisible wall, making my gloves split, leaving bloody splotches hanging in mid-air.

A strong arm hauled me away. “She is gone, Cherijo.”

“No!” I looked over at the navigator, who was closing the access panel. He shook his head. I wrenched myself around until I faced Xonea. “Why didn’t you get her out?”

“I tried.” He lifted his hand toward my face.

“Don’t touch me!” I pushed him away.

Hado spoke up then. “She begins a new journey, Healer.”

That made me snarl, “Oh, shut up!”

The navigator inclined his head. “I regret your pain.”

“And you.” I turned on Xonea and thumped a bloody fist against his broad chest. “You’ll just plan another big party, won't you?” Snarling had become ranting. I didn't care. “Maybe her body will get pulled into a star, and you can save yourself a grass shroud!”

“Doc.” Dhreen put himself between us. His spoon-shaped fingers settled on my shoulders. Troubled amber eyes peered into mine. “Don’t do this.”

I pushed Dhreen to one side, and advanced on Xonea. Once I got close enough, I pulled back my arm, and let it fly. My shredded glove made the slap sound louder than it was. My bloody handprint glowed against his blue face.

“I’ll
never
forgive you for this,” I said. “
Never
.”

Then I walked away.

CHAPTER NINE
A Matter of Honor

«
^
»

D
hreen kept Xonea away from me. That extended his life expectancy. It was nice for me, too. I wasn’t sure how much more punishment my hands could take, and my hands were needed elsewhere.

Someone brought up fluidators and foam cradles. We used them for the worst of the burn victims. Nurses kept coming at me, babbling about my injuries. I shoved them away. Yelled when that didn’t work.

Others weren’t so concerned.

“What have you done?” A furious ClanMother who’d just arrived on the scene pulled me away from one of the children I was treating and backed me up against a panel. “Have not enough been harmed? Now you cause our children to suffer?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant anyone to get hurt.”

“Show your contrition.” She gave me a shove. “Leave us.” Then she picked up the child and carried him away.

Someone touched my arm, and asked if I was all right. I wasn’t. But I needed the pain. Wanted it. God, I
deserved
it.

I coordinated moving the last of the injured from level six down to Medical, then followed. Patients overflowed into the outer corridors. The least-seriously wounded sat on the deck, patiently waiting to be seen. A few got to their feet when they saw me. I told them to sit back down, waded through the labyrinth of bodies, and limped into the Bay.

What should have been chaos was simply a busy, crowded triage. Squilyp was one hell of a manager. The patient roster was the first thing I checked. My injuries weren’t bothering me that much. The envirocontrols simply needed adjustment.

I read the names that had been entered. So far we had nearly a hundred casualties. I read each name, felt each one burn into my mind.
I’d
done this.
I
was accountable for every single entry.

Duncan Reever’s name wasn't among the wounded. I told myself it didn't matter. When I looked up and saw him standing in the entrance to Medical, my eyes closed briefly.

Of course it didn’t matter. Not now that I could breathe again.

“Cherijo?”

His eyes were green, I decided. Not blue. Not happy, either. He came across the busy ward toward me. The tunic he wore was filthy. He’d probably been helping with the evacuation. His hands were a mess, the old scars latticed with dozens of new wounds. I'd done that, too.

How was I going to tell him what I’d only just figured out?

“Reever.” His hands didn’t feel
that
wonderful as he took hold of me. I didn’t breathe in
just
to smell his scent. “Better have one of the nurses look at you.”

“What have you done to yourself?”

He was yelling. Reever
never
yelled.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Nurse!”

The pain was making it hard to concentrate. Why was he gripping me so tightly? “I have patients to see to,” I told him. “So take your messy hands off me, if you would, please.” I couldn’t claim he was soiling my tunic. All the smoke and blood hadn't left it very sanitary.

He released me, and my knees decided to get cute. The thigh wound I’d forgotten about was throbbing so hard I nearly moaned out loud. No, I had to keep moving, that was all. I limped over toward the sterilizer array. After a disaster like this, the surgical cases would be endless.

“Healer Cherijo?” someone said.

I thrust my hands under a sterilizer.
So I was glad Reever was alive
. The bloody wounds and skinseal had glued the gloves to my flesh.
Hadn’t I saved his life back on K-2
? I activated the unit with my knee.
I had a vested interest in his survival
. The sterilizer spray stripped the glove and skinseal material from my fingers.
If I couldn’t imagine life without Duncan Reever around, it was no big tragedy
. A million hot needles of pain flashed up my arms.

Behind me, Adaola screeched, “What are you
doing
, Healer?”

“Scrub… bing…” I looked down, saw the gleam of white shining through blackened, tattered flesh. My hands were in shreds. The ends of splintered finger bones were sticking out here and there. “Oh.” Stupid me. Should have expected they would be this bad. Where was the damn skinseal?

The nurse grabbed my wrists and jerked my hands away from the unit. “Iolna! Here, with me!” she called over her shoulder.

I tried to tug free, but it was useless. Adaola could have squashed me like a bug with one finger. Not to mention the fact the agony of my hands increased a thousandfold with every passing second. I’d better find some skinseal
and
a syrinpress.

“Let go of me, please.” I tried to be polite. Sweat ran freely down my face. Why couldn’t I find a nurse who would follow orders?

“Healer, we must treat your wounds.”

Reever hovered on the other side of me now. They guided me over to an exam table, then Duncan lifted me like a little kid. Honestly, the stuff I had to put up with, just because I was short. He spotted the binding Tonetka had wrapped around my thigh, and touched it gingerly.

“Her leg,” he said. Why did he sound so upset? It was just a little jab. I tried to sit up. “Don’t move, Joey.”

The other nurse appeared, her eyes wide as she looked at my hands, then my leg. I felt blood start to pulse from the wound again as they cut away my trousers. I peered down my body. The fabric, stiff with dried blood, had temporarily sealed the wound.

“Artery plug!” Adaola said.

“If you’d left it alone you wouldn't need one,” I told her. “Just seal it and let me up.”

Neither of them listened. They were fiddling with me, scanning me, being a general nuisance. Here I’d thought Jorenian nurses so efficient. Now the hole in my leg became a new well of torment. This was going to make standing in surgery a little difficult. Well, I'd just use a stool or something.