Endurance (32 page)

Not yet, Doctor
.

The Hsktskt came at me with his rifle poised to fire, but I had no more ability to move, than I had to get Duncan Reever out of my skull.

“OverCenturon. Release the Terran.”

GothVar didn’t. He threw down his weapon, lifted a limb, and smacked me off my feet. Before he could do more damage, Reever’s guards hauled him back away from me. I found myself sitting calmly back up and lifting my hand to take Reever’s outstretched fingers.

I was handling this on my own, OverMaster. Get out of my brain
.

No, Cherijo. I’m not going to do that
. Reever kept tight reign over my body as he helped me out of the puddled Husras and enfolded me in the curve of one arm. Out loud, he said, “Dr. Torin has agreed to become my consort.”

The guards fell silent and looked at me. I heard my own voice emerge from my throat. “Yes. I have agreed to this.” The words were spoken without inflection. Reever could make me talk, but he couldn’t instill any faked enthusiasm.

The hell I have
, I thought with a shrill shriek of fury.
You’re the last man on Catopsa I’d even consider consorting with, you self-absorbed butcher. What are you doing
?

Saving your life
.

The Hsktskt didn’t have marriage ceremonies, they had unity rituals. Reever maintained his mind control over me during the whole thing. It took the rest of that day to go through the stark, solemn series of vows and commitments, all of which we both had to utter in front of TssVar and every Hsktskt who could be spared from duty.

By the time we were done being “joined,” I was exhausted. I’d tried ceaselessly to break free of Reever’s control, but he had superior ability and experience backing him up. He not only controlled my body and voice, but somehow got past my walls and started hammering at my mind with each vow we spoke.

His promises were simple. “I will provide for, protect, and promote you and our young.”

Mine were slightly briefer. “I will nurture and protect you and our young.”
As long as you don’t fall asleep for the next seventy years, you cold-blooded bastard
.

That was it. It was the ritual joining and recognition phrases that had to be uttered by the other Hsktskt that took so long.

TssVar gave a sonorous speech about the Faction hierarchy and the place Reever had occupied in it. This involved naming everyone in TssVar’s immediate family, their current assignments, and unities made
with other Hsktskt lineages. He then formally recognized our “unity” and gave me the rank of OverMaster’s Mate.

Then everyone else had to repeat basically the same thing. I noticed GothVar wasn’t present; maybe Reever hadn’t invited him to the wedding.

I knew Reever couldn’t maintain control over me forever, and bided my time. When we left the Over-Lord’s chamber, Reever made me walk to his quarters and closed the door panel. I expected him to end the link then, but he removed the syrinpress from my tunic pocket and calibrated it.

Oh no
. I realized what his intentions were.
You aren’t drugging me
.

He pressed the applicator tip to my throat and injected me with something.
Until you’re ready to accept this, I have no choice but to sedate you
.

The familiar lassitude of valumine slipped into my bloodstream, and Reever released his mind and body control a moment before I fell into a heap on the floor. He picked me up and carried me to his berth.

“Now you will listen to me.”

“No.” The tranquilizer made my tongue feel thick. “Why should I? You’re a …”

“GothVar’s arena slaves don’t leave until they’re dead. One of the others would have killed you eventually. SrrokVar has also expressed his desire to continue experimenting on you, to both TssVar and the Faction Hanar. This is the only way I can safeguard you now. You must agree to act as my consort.”

I made a silly sputtering sound with my lips.

“You refuse to see the truth.” Reever stretched out beside me and gathered my limp form into his arms. “I am attempting to protect you.”

My eyes rolled. Protect me. I’d love to see how he treated someone he didn’t give a damn about.

“If you fight me on this, you will be returned to SrrokVar.”

Then you’d better get more drugs, and develop insomnia while you’re at it
.

“You’re late.”

I shut the door panel and headed straight for the cleanser. “Things got busy.”

My new husband watched me from the table littered with the remains of his solitary meal. I turned my back on him, stripped off my stained tunic, and stepped in under the heated jets. The past two weeks had re-established some of our old routines. Like his penchant for nagging. And mine for pretending he was invisible.

Once I was dressed, I sat down and picked at the meal he’d warmed up for me. Yet another of his vile alien concoctions, I deducted from the taste, and dropped my utensils with a clatter.

“I don’t know what you ate for the first three decades of your life—dirt, probably—but I like food. Simple, nourishing food. As in something I can actually
swallow
.” I shoved the plate away. My voice had risen to a near-shout, not that I cared. “If you’re going to waste your time preparing our meals, for God’s sake use the Terran recipes I’ve programmed for my stuff.”

Reever sat back. “You lost another patient.”

“Two of them.” My lips drew back from my teeth. “Cerebrovascular complications, attributed to bacterial meningitis. Then your cretinous lizard pals removed the bodies before I could perform autopsies.
Again
.”

Whatever was killing the handful of prisoners I lost each week remained unidentifiable. I’d run microanalysis on everything they ate, drank, or touched. I tested prisoners in adjoining cells. I’d found exactly zero.

I wasn’t as angry about the patients I’d lost as I was over their bodies being removed without my authorization. There was also the last signal I’d received before going off shift. “TssVar disapproved my request to vaccinate all the prisoners. For the fourth time. Why?”

“He does not believe it is merited. There have only been twenty deaths.”

“
Only
twenty deaths. I see.” I took a sip from my server, then threw it across the chamber and watched it burst against the wall. “So, what you’re saying is, only when hundreds of prisoners die of meningitis will I be allowed to start vaccinating the live ones. That’s logical. Let a contagion spread out of control, then try to contain it. Gee, I can relive the K-2 epidemic all over again.”

“What happened on Kevarzangia Two was vastly different, Cherijo.”

“Just for your information, I reported GothVar’s private little sporting arena to the OverLord, too.”

“The Hsktskt regard physical challenges as a form of recreation. TssVar will likely wish to attend some of the bouts.”

“That’s pretty much what he said.” I went over and flopped on the berth we shared. “Have I mentioned lately how much I hate these lizards? And you?”

“You said something to that effect this morning, before leaving for your shift.”

“Oh, good.” I closed my eyes. “Thought I’d forgotten.”

“I arranged to have someone come here tonight to see you.”

Probably one of his Hsktskt pals who didn’t want to report to the infirmary. “I’ll see he, she, or it in the morning. I’m going to sleep.”

Exhaustion sent me into dreamless sleep. It didn’t last very long, though. Reever woke me up by shaking my shoulders and whispering my name.

“Knock it off,” I said, yawning as I rolled away from his hands.

My husband didn’t roll me back over toward him. He shoved me off the side of the berth. I hit the hard floor with a screech.

“Reever! Are you crazy? What—”

“Listen.”

I shut my mouth and heard a low hiss a few feet away. The sort of hiss a Hsktskt infant made when it was hungry.

Scampering claws clattered across the chamber toward the other side of the berth, where Reever was crouching. By my reckoning there were three of them. That didn’t make sense, the only baby Hsktskt on Catopsa belonged to FurreVa, and she … was still recovering from surgery in the infirmary.

“Someone let FurreVa’s young loose in here.” I edged backward until my shoulders hit the wall. “You’re the expert, Reever. Talk to me. How do we handle this?”

“Keep them away from your face and throat.”

“Oh, good advice.” I concentrated on the odd, hitching noises coming from the infant near my feet. Respiratory distress syndrome, from the sound of it. Premature infants often had recurrent bouts of breathing arrest and apnea, and this one was no exception. I doubted it would go into respiratory arrest before it tore my heart out, however. “Whatever you do, don’t kick or hit them. Their lungs won’t take that kind of abuse.”

“Climb.”

I reached back for a handhold, and that’s when the first infant jumped at me. Underdeveloped as it was, it still had plenty of teeth to use while tearing up the front of my tunic. I pushed it away as lightly as I could, whirled, and started climbing up the crystal outcroppings until I reached the top of the chamber’s dome.

Two of the infants appeared at the base of the wall, and looked up at me with large, hungry eyes. Small claws extended and encircled the lowest crystal outcropping.

“Urn, Reever”—I shifted my grip and looked along the wall toward my husband—“looks like they can climb, too.”

Alunthri chose that moment to walk through the chamber door panel.

“Get out of here!” I yelled. “Secure the door!”

The Chakacat saw the infants, dropped onto all fours, and went into its fake-ferocity act. That drew the three infants’ attention, and they moved away from the wall and toward my friend.

“Alunthri, don’t hurt them—they’re just babies—” Quickly I inched back down the wall, spied my medical case, and made a run for it.

The big cat yowled and hissed as one of the infants jumped at its face. Reever grabbed another before it could do the same. I retrieved a syrinpress and made a dive to clutch the third. The tiny claws swiped at my face, then sagged as the tranquilizer I injected it with took effect.

Reever’s hands and wrist bled but held firm as I took care of the one he held. He had a small cut on his cheek, but otherwise had survived intact, so I went to aid Alunthri.

The last of FurreVa’s brood had latched on to the Chakacat’s throat with its small jaws, and was now trying to bite through the thick silvery fur. Alunthri struggled to loosen the tiny reptile’s grip, then with claws sheathed, knocked it away. The infant landed on its chest and released a squeal of distress.

“Damn it.” I knelt beside it, eased it over, and placed a palm on its heaving torso. “Signal the infirmary, Reever.”

Alunthri crouched beside me and gazed at the little Hsktskt with a grave expression. “I am sorry, Cherijo. I tried not to harm it.”

I pressed finger to my lips in warning, then swiftly examined the Chakacat. The small Hsktskt had done a good job, I saw, and put a temporary pressure dressing on the neck wound it had inflicted. Since Reever was at the console, I dipped my head down next to one flickering ear. “It wasn’t your fault, my friend. We’ll talk later.”

Alunthri uttered a single
hnk
.

Fully Restored

FurreVa’s daughter required cardiac surgery, which I performed immediately after placing her two siblings in reinforced incubator units and dealing with an extremely angry mother lizard.

“Terran!” FurreVa left her berth and stomped toward me, sending my nurses scattering. She saw her young and activated her weapon. “You took my brood from my chambers.”

“No, I
found
your brood in mine.” I put myself between her and the infants. “Put down the gun, we need to talk.”

“They were in your chambers?” She scanned me from crown to ground. “Who placed them there? Why are you not injured?”

“Yes, I have no idea, and pure luck.” I wasn’t going to tell her about Alunthri’s timely intervention. “Power down that rifle. I’ve got to get one of them into surgery.”

She complied and went from outraged straight into classic maternal panic. “Surgery? On my female? Why?”

I gave her an abbreviated diagnosis, including the fact that if I didn’t perform the surgery, it was unlikely that the little female would survive another rotation.

“I will wait here until this surgery is completed.” FurreVa took a position beside the incubator units. “You will save her, Terran.”

She didn’t have to say
Or else
. “Right.”

Vlaav and I prepped the tiny Hsktskt, and moved her into surgery. My resident had identified the source of the cardiac distress, but was unfamiliar with the treatment.

“Premature infants sometimes have PDA, a heart duct that remains open. I initially treated this female with indosyne in small doses to protect the kidneys,” I told him as I made the midchest incision and exposed the tiny heart. “Unfortunately in this case, it didn’t close the duct, so I have to
try PDA ligation. Surgery is always the last-resort treatment in these cases.”