The Loranth (Star Sojourner Book 1) (20 page)

Acid.

My hand went instinctively to my right thigh where Carrier had burned me. This also had to be the Loranth's body acid. I checked my pants and shirt. Untouched. Still, it hadn't all been illusion. What was it Morth had said about body weapons? I rubbed the sore muscles of my shoulder and sighed.

The incident with Kor had drained me. I was too tired to think, too wet and grimy, cold and hungry, to sleep. But after looking in the mirror, I decided to put aside
tired
. I used the owner's shaver, his shower. I didn't relish more water but it was warm. I vibed my clothes in his ultra while I ate his food and drank his bru.

I'd leave before he arrived next morning, beat him to the police station and try to hash out the night's events with Hallarin. I considered the welcome I was in for with the Big H and sighed. He couldn't imprison me for escaping from a hospital and not attending a meeting. Could he?

I lay back on the cot, closed my eyes and had a vivid image of Kor rearing up over me. I sat up with a cry, then laid back down. Was he dead by now? One could hope, but I thought not. Why should things be that easy?

“Small brens, se enough, Jack,” I mumbled. I'd have to tell Jack that Kor couldn't reach Annie and the kids in Cape Leone. I closed my eyes and wondered how the meetings had gone. I hoped Morth didn't decide to report in while I slept.
Do Not Disturb,
I projected and let my mind drift. I'd a feeling tomorrow might be a long day.

* * *

“The box, Chris, give me the box!”

She was clutching a box as she drifted down a hill of water in a stone-carved boat. I swam toward her but a current drew me into a cave. “Don't let her open the box,” I shouted to a white sail drifting past. “It doesn't matter,” the sail replied. “Geth is all, and all is geth.” Christine turned eyes that were burning coals on me as the boat ran aground on a grassy bank where a family fished from a dock. “You will understand, Jules, when He…”

“What, Chris? What did you say?”

A black wave swept over me. I was riding a motorcycle back on Earth. Ahead, a light grew into a bright room with a long frightening box. I thought Christine was inside because I heard knocking. I opened the box. Roses. Terrible black roses that swayed and became snakes. They hissed and struck at me. I tried to close the lid, but Christine was under the snakes. They were growing out of her body and that was the horror of it.

“What will I understand?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“I'm the owner,” she said, still knocking.

It woke me up.

“Whoever you are,” a voice called sharply from outside the office door, “open up right now or I'll call the police!”

“Uh oh.” I sat up.

The owner! It was daylight. I grabbed my jacket, went out the back kitchen door, jogged to the bike and left hastily.

“Hey, I got your license plate number, thief!” he called as he ran after me, shaking a fist. “You'll pay for this!”

I pictured him scooping in silver coins from all the people who had ever wronged him.

Roadblocks!

And police spikers, robot and real, patrolling the streets.

What the hell had happened? Was this just Hallarin's precautions after last night's meeting with the other Leone officials? I hoped so as I skirted the town, not wanting to be escorted to police headquarters. There was something I had to do before facing the Big H again. The animal shelter wanted fifteen creds to bail out Christine's dog, Dancer. Dancer was scheduled for the euth-box later that afternoon. I was surprised, I told them. “I thought executions were always held at sunrise.”

“Smartass,” the vet said. And “Go ahead, take the little shit without the owner's permission.” They couldn't stand his whiney bark till late afternoon. I used Jack's credcount again, tucked Dancer inside my jacket, pointy brown terrier ears and head protruding, and rode through the rocky treed canyon between the town and the Institute, then up the steep slope to the back of the hospital. I couldn't get that dream…nightmare, out of my mind.

* * *

“Then call it therapy,” I told the receptionist in the hospital's lobby. She wouldn't let me by with Dancer.

“You may call it whatever you like, sir, but it's still against hospital rules to bring animals into patients' rooms.” She shook her head. “Or the hospital itself, for that matter.”

I muttered a few things about rules as I left, went to a side entrance and walked upstairs to the third floor. I stuffed Dancer's head inside the jacket, sealed it and winked at the familiar tired nurse behind the desk. “A present,” I answered her frown as she studied the moving lump under my jacket, and went to Christine's room feeling anxious, but chalking it up to that nightmare at the stables.

The old man who occupied Christine's former bed turned and looked at me with bright sunken eyes in a body so frail it could no longer respond to his commands. I nodded and smiled as I backed out. It was hard as hell to look into those eyes.

“Did they move Ms. Saynes to another room?” I asked the nurse. Dancer began to pant.

She flicked the pulsing jacket a look. “Are you a relative, Mister Rammis?”

Anxiety turned to a quick sting of fear. “I'm her cousin.”

She checked a clipboard. “No cousins listed anywhere on Tartarus. In fact…” She looked up. “There are no relatives listed at all.”

“Long lost,” I tried.

“I'm sorry.” She suddenly had papers to shuffle and wouldn't meet my eyes. “You'll have to talk to the doctor.”

“About what?” The sense of shock I tried to hold back broke through the numbness. “About
what,
nurse?”

She stopped shuffling and sighed. “I can't help you, Mister Rammis.”

Dancer began to squirm. I opened the jacket and he poked out his head.

“Was that her dog?” the nurse asked sadly.

“Oh God. How did she die?”

“I'm really sorry, Mister Rammis. You can wait for the doctor in the lounge, or the chapel room, if you like. There's coffee and bru.” She shook her head and began to write again.

I didn't need the doctor to tell me where the morgue was. I stroked Dancer's head and held him close as I descended the stairs to the basement, wiping tears on his fur. Nobody ever locks doors in Leone. Sometimes I wish they would.

There was a smell of formalin in the morgue. I put Dancer down and lifted the sheet covering her body. A shock like the bite of an arctic wind touched me and something inside me recoiled. They say the dead look peaceful. I guess so. If oblivion is any sort of peace. “Chris.” My hand trembled as I touched her cheek. So cold. Her skin, so waxen. No more tears.

I couldn't bear to look at the angle of her head, but I knew her neck was broken. What the hell had happened? I brushed back strands of her hair and tried to picture her happy, laughing. I'd never seen her that way. “Oh, dammit, Chris.” My shoulders shook as I sobbed. All she ever wanted out of life was to be a dancer, to be herself. It wasn't a lot to ask. Maybe I could have done more for her.

I don't know.

There was no sense to her death. I rubbed my eyes and felt listless. I wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep. To forget this.

I sat on a chair next to the metal autopsy table with its perforations and drains, and squeezed my fist against my lips. Tears ran between my fingers. “Ah, dammit!”

Dancer jumped onto my lap, sniffed Christine's hand and whined as he pawed her. I held him tightly against me. He struggled and I let him jump down.

There is no death,
Morth had said. But this woman, this Christine Saynes, was gone, wherever her kwaii was now. If there is A Divine Plan, I don't think it includes a life cut short for want of love and understanding.

I got up, kissed her forehead and gently covered her with the sheet. “Goodbye, Chris.” I turned toward the door.

Hallarin stood there with a cup of coffee in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot. I was about to push past him when he extended the cup to me.

I shook my head. “I…I can't drink now.” I wiped my eyes on my jacket sleeve. “It wasn't Kor,” I said. I picked up Dancer and walked out. Hallarin followed.

“She did it herself, didn't she?” I snapped. “You were supposed to guard her!”

“We did. We didn't expect her to jump out the goddamn third floor window! Did you see the morning paper?” He rang for an elevator.

“No. Why?” I took the coffee from his hand and swallowed a mouthful. It was cold.

* * *

The conference room was empty. I'd bet Hallarin had seen to that. I sat down and stared out the long window. The day was bright, the sky pink.

“You think Kor's right?” I said dully.

He poured himself a cup of bru and watched me.

I sighed. “Do you always put people under microscopes?”

“When I need answers, Rammis.”

“You think we're so violent, so devious, we can't live with the knowledge of our own natures?” I sipped the cold coffee. “After all, consider our past history.”

He reached for a folded newspaper on the table and slid it toward me. “Consider this.”

I looked at the headline. My hand shook and coffee spilled.

In an unexplained incident Sunday night, the article began, five young Terran residents of Cape Leone were found drowned in Chablis Harbor. The harbor is being dragged for a possible sixth victim who is still missing. According to Police Chief Robert Hallarin, who has postponed plans to retire until this case is solved, the victims, all teenagers, were found fully clothed at 10:30 pm by a vegan couple strolling the beach. It is believed the group had just returned from a fishing trip at the reservoir. “There were fishing poles on the roof,” Officer Thomas Trement of the C.L. Police Force informed the Herald, “and no sign of illegal drugs, brain stims, dream crystals, or alcohol.” According to Police Chief Hallarin, who stated that he believes this case will be solved quickly, the police are taking extreme measures to protect the town, and there is no cause for panic. Further measures for public safety, the police chief added, will be announced if and when they become necessary. The police department has declined to disclose further details pending investigation. County Administrator Lawrence T. Adair stated.

I ran down the list of victims' names. There were no Coles among the dead. Was that cause for relief? Five teenagers! Probably six.

“My God!” I whispered, “the kids on the dirt road.” I rubbed my eyes. So it begins. “The reservoir water?” I asked Hallarin.

He nodded. “The town's using water from filter stations the Institute set up.” He frowned into his cup. “They tell me this shit is pure. Tastes like pure shit.”

I put down the newspaper. “I wounded Kor last night. I shot him twice, I think. He could be dead by now.” I looked up. “I'm sure you're not taking that chance.”

“I'm not taking any chances.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Six people…
kids!
How many more before this nightmare is over? I hit the table with a palm. “Dammit, why doesn't Morth contact me? I guess you're bringing in teams from Earth Central and Interstel?”

“And the Worlds Court. They'll arrive this afternoon.”

“You're trying for a declaration of war, aren't you, Hallarin? That should please Kor, or his followers if he's dead.” I stared at my coffee and swirled it.

“Don't stop now.”

“I'll bet he's been trying to convince the Loranths all along that we're an aggressive warlike race.”

“He succeeded,” Hallarin stated. “And we are, when we're attacked.”

“We're giving him exactly the reasons he needs to justify retribution. After all, Terrans are just subnormal intruders here, but if we start killing native Loranths.” I rubbed my lips. “How in hell does he expect…”

“Expect what?”

We're a plague upon Keepworld.
Who had said that? Christine.

I thought on Shayls and their ability to develop microbes in body glands to use in hunts. Could Loranths do that? A small light blinked on inside my head.

A plague!

“No!” I jumped up. “It's not the chemical in the water
or
his tel power. Neither could devastate Earth!”

Then what is it?" Hallarin gripped the table's edge. “What is it, Rammis? Goddammit, we could've used this input at the meeting last night!”

“Kor gave those kids the directive to kill themselves before I got to the reservoir. I passed their car on the dirt road. They were already returning from it.”

“So?”

“These murders were a ploy.” I pushed the newspaper toward him. “A diversionary tactic. Why didn't I see it before!” I slammed my fist on the table.

He put down his cup and slowly stood up, his shoulders hunched. “See
what
before?”

My breath was coming fast. “Cancel all shuttle flights, all flights, even government ships scheduled to leave Syl' Tyrria!” I went to the door and threw it open.

Hallarin followed, kicked the door shut and pushed me against it. “By the ChristLotus, you tell me what you figured out or you'll be spitting teeth!”

“Nothing takes off. Nothing lands!” My knees felt shaky. “It can't be too late!” I looked at him. “This can't be the end.” For the first time since I've known Hallarin, I saw fear cross his face. He grabbed my shirt and shoved me against the closed door. “Goddamn it, Rammis, you tell me what you figured out. Right now.”

“Plague.”

His mouth fell open. For some strange reason I wondered what would've happened had he been smoking a cigar. “Quarantine the planet,” I said hoarsely. “Do it.”

His hands dropped

“That's his weapon,” I said. “His real weapon. A viral plague.” Just mouthing the words scared me. “Morth told me Kor might use body weapons against us. I thought he meant acid glands!”

I strode to the window and tried to remain calm, to think logically. The people out there, the traffic moving down Hospital Road. Everything seemed so normal.

I turned. “We're a plague upon Keepworld”, Christine said. ”I thought it was a fucking metaphor!” I drew in a hard breath and bit down on a knuckle. “That bastard! Kor, that's why he took humans into his lair. Not for hunter-slaves. He could get all the native animals he needed to hunt for him.” I walked around the table, went back to the window. Hallarin followed me with his eyes. “To use us as test animals,” I said. “To develop a viral strain that would prove effective against humans. Chris knew that, she… Jesus, Hallarin, she knew it!”