Endurance (39 page)

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Authors: Richard Chizmar

BOOK: Endurance
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“Hi.” I took position at her side and studied the gore-spattered panels in front of us. “Should we get some popcorn?”

She turned to me. “Some what?”

“Popcorn. It’s what Terrans eat when they watch holofilms. Sort of goes along with entertainment.”

“I think not.” Her perfectly proportioned head swung back toward the quad. “Even now, you seem determined to provoke me.”

“No. I’m determined to be your friend.”

“You are Terran. I am Hsktskt. We should not be friends.”

“Shouldn’t we?” I saw the crowd part on either side of the arena. “Here comes the main event.”

TssVar and GothVar entered the quad. Both were stripped down to minimal garments and displayed fairly awesome physiques. As far as size went, TssVar held the advantage, but GothVar had more bulk. It looked to be a fairly even match.

The crowd fell silent as TssVar stepped into the center of the quad and held up two of his limbs.

“My people. I come here defending OverSeer FurreVa, with sire’s right of protection.” He turned to indicate GothVar. “This male has violated her, attempted to kill her, and now tries to force unity. He is a coward, undeserving of the honor of brood-sire’s rights.”

Now it was FlatHead’s turn. “My comrades. I have but wished to join with my mate. She has delivered the brood I sired. By law she is to be mine. OverLord TssVar claims sire’s right when none is necessary. She will be mine.”

“Now they beat each other’s brains out?” I murmured to FurreVa.

“Yes.”

And with no further speeches or ceremony, that’s what they did. I’d seen hand-to-hand combat before, even participated in some myself. It paled in comparison to this.

Hsktskt use all their limbs in the quad—upper, lower, and even their prehensile tail appendages. The results ranged from bone-cracking grappling holds to violent impacts of limbs into torsos and heads. TssVar sent GothVar sprawling to the surface of the quad over and over. GothVar ripped huge gouges in TssVar’s hide.

The blood and brutality made me sick. “How long will they keep this up?” I yelled to FurreVa over the shouts of the crowd.

She never took her eyes from the quad. “Until one of them dies.”

For a short time I thought that might be TssVar. FlatHead sank his teeth into one of the OverLord’s upper limbs and held on, tearing and pulling at the joint until with a horrible cry TssVar went down.

The limb, however, stayed in GothVar’s mouth until he removed it and threw it from the ring.

“No.” I ran over to where the limb had landed and grabbed it. Reever appeared. “I need a cryo-unit to preserve this,” I said. “Get the infirmary to send one down at once.”

Exhausted and bleeding copiously now, TssVar launched himself from the quad surface to wrap his remaining limbs around GothVar’s torso. He planted his huge feet, contracted his limbs, and bones began to snap. GothVar screamed.

I’d had enough of this, I thought, and reached up to climb into the ring. Reever pulled me back down.

When I started arguing, he pointed toward the grappling pair. “Watch. He will finish it now.”

TssVar kept tightening his limbs, GothVar kept bellowing. The crowd fell oddly silent. I stepped back as I heard tissues tear and blood spill between the two Hsktskt. There was a loud, final snapping sound, then GothVar sagged limp and motionless in TssVar’s lethal embrace.

The OverLord released the body, which fell like a sack of broken servers to the quad. “It is done.”

I didn’t have time to applaud. I raced under the cords and over to the tottering Hsktskt, who was now reeling in a pool of GothVar’s blood, and contributing a lot of his own to the same.

“Congratulations.” I tore the sleeve from my tunic and used it as a temporary tourniquet over the jagged stump. “You’re a mess.”

“I will leave you to deal with the repairs,” he said, then sat down heavily.

“That’s what they all say.” I moved my foot to avoid a stream of GothVar’s spreading body fluid, then squinted at it. Like Terrans, the Hskskt had red blood. So there was no reason for GothVar’s blood to have streaks of black … unless …

A feeble strand of black lifted out of the congealing red puddle and started to elongate toward TssVar.

I jumped away from the fluid pool, trying to pull the Hsktskt with me, then yelled at two nearby centurons. “Help me!”

Without hesitation the two guards assisted me as I dragged the OverLord away from the contaminated plasma.

The black streaks subsided, and began to crystallize.

I didn’t have time to celebrate what I’d discovered. The OverLord’s condition required immediate surgery. I ran in front of his gurney to the infirmary, shouted for a scrub team to move faster than the speed of light, and checked the still-twitching limb in the cryo-unit.

“I need full text on Hsktskt limb replantation,” I said as I scrubbed. “If they’re not in our database, signal Command and tell them to relay them
now
.”

A nurse brought them in on a data pad as I geared up, and I studied the data carefully. Had GothVar torn off TssVar’s tail, it wouldn’t have been a
problem—Hsktskt regenerated those naturally. But the limb was going to require some very special, fancy cutting, especially in areas where the ruptured vessels were not as easily accessible, in and around the major shoulder joint.

“Plan on being here for a few hours, people,” I said as I walked into surgery, gloves up to prevent accidental contamination. TssVar’s vitals were weak, but gratifyingly steady. “Power up the laser, and remove the tourniquet. Clamp.”

The microsurgery turned out to be no picnic. GothVar, obviously a pro at rending a victim limb from limb, had done extensive, serious damage.

I clamped off the bleeders and started prepping the stump, then the end of the limb for reconnection. Blood vessels and nerves had to be accurately rejoined in order for regeneration to occur, so I worked with a scope in my face for the rest of the procedure.

I rejoined the major vessels first, then watched the scanner display as circulation was reinstated. “Okay. Six vessels down, twenty-four to go.”

Seven hours later, I stripped off my mask and deactivated the sterile field. “We’re done for now. Wheel him out into recovery.” I turned around and nearly ran over Duncan Reever, who was also dressed in surgical gear. “What are you doing here? I thought surgery made you sick.”

“He is my brother,” Reever said.

“Whatever. I want GothVar’s body brought over here for an autopsy,” I said as I went to the cleansing unit. “Make sure whoever handles it uses a hazardous waste transport and wears an envirosuit.”

“Why?”

“His blood has been contaminated.” I peeled off my surgical gown. “I’ll let you know by what as soon as I get it under a scope.”

“I’ll see to it. You performed well today.” Without another word, Reever turned and left.

That might have been a thank-you, I thought, then went to scrub TssVar’s blood from my hands. I’d have to think about it, though.

Two fully suited centurons delivered GothVar’s body in an enormous, sealed receptacle, and I pulled Vlaav off the ward to assist me with the postmortem. What I’d suspected showed up a moment after I’d made the median incision.

Hundreds of solid black growths encrusted his internal organs.

“I’ve never seen a disease like this,” my resident said as he handed me a clamp.

“It’s not a disease, and yes, you have seen it before.”

The growths couldn’t be detached, I discovered, after practically burning out a lascalpel. Taking a sample required the excision of an entire
lymph node. I had to modify the electroniscopic scanner to accommodate the over-large specimen before I could examine it from the molecular level up.

Vlaav had completed the brain examination and brought a slice of GothVar’s outer cerebral tissue over in a specimen tray. “You’re not going to believe this, Doctor, but he was—”

“Infected with meningitis?” I glanced at the mucus-covered sample. “Yes, I believe it. He wouldn’t let the Lok-Teel near him.”

Vlaav appeared totally confused now.

“The meningitis was the body’s natural reaction to the bacteria, which isn’t a bacteria, by the way. It’s minute particles of this black crystal.”

I adjusted the scope’s magnification and had Vlaav take a look at it.

“Those cells resemble the microbe we found in all the spinal fluid samples.” He lifted his head, confused. “But these are transparent, and there are no nuclei present.”

“It’s not bacteria. This mineral seems to have two forms: liquid, and solid. Heat seems to be the factor. The pseudo-bacteria solidifies when the body temperature cools.”

“But why didn’t we find any of them in the autopsies we performed?”

I spotted one of the blobs ambling along the side of a wall, and gently picked it off. After pulling the organ sample out from under the scope, I set the mold beside it and stepped back.

The Lok-Teel instantly flowed over the encrusted node and began contracting and expanding. A few minutes later, it moved off and revealed a normal, crystal-free specimen.

“The Lok-Teel ate it. These little guys make penicillin look practically useless.”

“So that must be the reason the others didn’t die!” Vlaav’s arms flapped with excitement. “I remember, I kept picking the mold off their berths—it must have absorbed the mineral directly through contact with their flesh.”

“Yep. That’s it.” I cleaned up and went to send a signal to Central Command.

You’d think reattaching the limb of a Hsktskt OverLord and curing a toxic plague would make the powers that be just a tad grateful to you, wouldn’t you? I thought so, too, until I was seized and dragged back to the solitary confinement pits.

Well, it really wasn’t TssVar’s fault. SrrokVar had been responsible for the entire mess.

It happened a few days after the battle over FurreVa, while I was on duty. Dr. Mengele showed up at the infirmary and demanded to see
TssVar. I let him, mostly because I was busy. Next thing I knew SrrokVar was arguing with my patient about the tunnels, and the informant who had seen me using them.

“How many slaves has she declared deceased, only to smuggle them through these passages? How many have escaped Catopsa?”

I came to the berth and regarded the Hsktskt scientist with extreme exasperation. “The OverLord can listen to your allegations later—when he’s recovered. Leave.”

“Such audacity,” SrrokVar said. “I will leech that out of her, TssVar—”

That’s when the OverLord summoned his personal guard, and sent me to sit in an isolation pit until further notice.

I should have been furious, but an hour into my confinement I realized something. By putting me in the pit, TssVar had actually protected me. Without his intervention, SrrokVar would have certainly taken me back to the crying chambers.

So he does care what happens to me, in his own cold-blooded fashion
.

Since they’d placed me in one of the deeper shafts, I tried communicating with other prisoners. Either no one spoke Terran, or I was the only lucky occupant of the confinement pits.

I leaned back against the crystal wall, still fighting frustration.
I have to get out of here, before the liberation forces reach Catopsa. Can’t trust Noarr. Maybe Gael
…?

An odd sensation passed over the back of my neck, and I sat up to rub it. That was when I felt the first, barely perceptible trace of another presence, and turned toward the crystal.

“Hel …”—my eyes widened as glittering black veins flowered inside the transparent surface—”… lo?”

The wall of the pit began to crackle, and I edged back away from it. A tiny shard fell down by my right hand. Then another. Then four more. Suddenly the entire wall was crumbling, and I had nowhere to go.

Stop
!

As if it heard me, the wall stopped disintegrating. No hidden passage appeared, much to my disappointment. Just more of the black-shot toxin. Before I released my breath, I felt the presence again.

Then I
heard
it.

*you*

I waited. That was it. Not audible sound, more like a vibration, traveling up my arm and into my head. “Me what?”

*you* can*

Some kind of telepathy?
What do you want? Who are you
?

*you*can*be*you*can*be*trus*

I can be a truss?

*ted*you*can*be*trus*ted*

Some instinct made me reach out and press my palms to an intact part of the wall. “Noarr?”

*not*the*way*we*are

It was some sort of echo … or not.
Of course it’s some kind of weird echo
. I dropped my hands.
Or wishful thinking. What else would it be
?

The vibration shot up through my legs and made my ears ring.

*pel*

The presence became stronger. As I shook my head, trying to clear the muddle caused by the odd effect, something moved inside the wall. Something large. Very large. And it moved very fast.

“Noarr?” The name burst from me before I could control myself. “Noarr, if this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny.”

*no*no*arr*pel*

An oozing mass of clear, thick fluid spilled over the shattered edge of the wall, and I scrabbled backward to avoid it. It didn’t puddle around me; it froze in mid-spill, then backed up a few inches. Not much more than a huge mass of quivering, colorless glop. I could almost swear that if it had eyes, it would be staring at me.

*pel*

Why do I keep hearing that
—I saw the glop extend an arm-sized mass that wrapped around my ankle before I could move. The cool, satiny texture of the stuff against my skin didn’t scare me as much as astound me.

That’s exactly what the Lok-Teel feel like
. I placed my hand on the top of the mass, and it threaded itself around my fingers.

*PEL*

The vibration was so strong I yelped in pain, and reflexively shook the glop off my hand. It didn’t spatter, but hastily retracted back into itself.

Geez, you don’t have to yell at me
.

That’s when it really astounded me.
*for*give*

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