Endurance (15 page)

“She’s innocent—you can’t do this!”

TssVar went around the post and looked at FurreVa. “Did you interrogate those prisoners without authorization, OverSeer?”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, OverLord.”

“She’s lying!” I fought to break Reever’s hold. “TssVar, for God’s sake, you’ll kill her!”

TssVar activated the unit. “Restrain the doctor, brother.” His tongue slid out once, twice. “Ensure she observes the entire discipline.”

For the next thirty minutes, Reever held me there and forced me to watch as the thresher slowly and methodically flayed the OverSeer’s back.

The displacer bands worked over her like a flail edged with a dozen individual blades, rising and falling. A rhythmic hum vibrated from the base of the unit, one that pulsed against my ears and sent my fingers digging into Reever’s forearm.

Scales began to shred. Then the bands cut into the underlying tissue.

At first the Hsktskt made no sound at all. Her bulky body didn’t move, either. I thought she’d fallen mercifully unconscious, until the bands falling across her raw flesh made FurreVa twist and jerk.

Bile surged up my throat, over and over. I’d never seen anyone tortured before, so I had no point of reference. My experience as a surgeon was useless; the ghastly scene was an affront to my training and a fisted blow against my humanity.

She’d lied to protect GothVar—but why? Why would she endure this to cover for him?

My outrage made me a minority of one. I jerked my head around, saw the faces of the centurons and the OverLord as they watched the thresher tear into their comrade. No one averted their gaze. No one twitched a muscle.

GothVar stood in the front row. He appeared to be enjoying himself, following the movements of the bands with intense concentration.

Perverted ghoul. Enjoying this butchering session, knowing he should have been up there, taking the punishment.

I lost it halfway through the session, and shrieked something vile at TssVar. Reever clamped a hand over my mouth and kept it there from then on. I sank my teeth into his palm, several times. The taste of blood pooled in my mouth, and I didn’t know whether it was mine, or his. I didn’t care. All I could do was watch, and pray it would be over soon.

Still the thresher bands rose and fell.

FurreVa started to grunt after each blow. Gobbets of shredded derma hung from her back in long peels. Rivulets of blood ran down her back and shoulders. The shreds became chunks. The rivulets became steady flows.

Ultimately, her grunts became howls.

Toward the end, Reever had to hold me caged in his arms, simply to keep me upright. Tears of rage and helplessness blinded me, but I still
heard what I could no longer see clearly. No escaping the gradually weakening shrieks, the thresher’s efficient hum, the sound of a body being torn apart. The nauseating smell of blood thickened and changed when the Hsktskt lost control of her bladder and bowels. A moment later, I closed my eyes, and wetness streaked over my cheeks and plopped on Reever’s hand.

My conscience immediately attacked.
No. Don’t shut it out. Remember this. Remember you made this happen to her
.

I opened my eyes, blinked to clear them, and made myself watch. At last, after an eternity of horror, the hum abruptly ended. TssVar had finally deactivated the unit. By then FurreVa hung loosely in her bonds, unconscious, and bleeding copiously.

The back of her body glistened, raw and tattered.

Slowly Reever let go of me, and I staggered to the nearest disposal unit and vomited as quietly as I could. Behind me, a few of the centurons made repelled sounds.

They could watch a helpless comrade be chewed to pieces, but one Terran having the heaves upset them
?

Once my belly settled, I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and headed toward the OverSeer. The clinical part of my brain registered the damage: the thresher had effectively removed all the scales, subderma, and the majority of the upper muscular layer beneath it. Bits and pieces of the Hsktskt’s body had fallen in clumps around the base of the post. An ever-widening pool of blood met my footgear.

I bent down to where she could see and hear me, and lifted a numb hand to her carotid. Slow and feeble, her pulse throbbed like a soundless moan against my fingertips. Then I looked up and collided with the clear, cold gaze of the Hsktskt Commander. Beside him, GothVar gave me equal attention.

“She is dead meat,” he said, and flicked his tongue toward me. Wanting to taste my fear, my despair, or whatever gave his chemoreceptors a thrill.

“Not yet,” I whispered, making an instant pledge. “Not yet.”

No one stopped me when I got up and went to the console to signal Medical, or made Reever and two other Hsktskt help me cut her down. The medevac team arrived just as we prepared to lower FurreVa’s heavy weight to the deck.

“Lift her up there. On her front, yes, like that,” I said, directing the centurons as they placed her onto the grav-unit. I went over to the console again and signaled the duty nurse. “Set up a foam cradle in an isolation
room. She’s big, so suspend it with a couple of traction rigs.” The nurse was inspecting me with visible revulsion. “What?”

“You’re covered with—with—” She gestured at my tunic, and I glanced down.

Hsktskt blood and bits of tissue made splotches and stains all down the front off me.

I heaved a sigh. “I’ll change. Now,
move it
.”

As we moved FurreVa from launch bay to Medical, I stayed at her side. I didn’t need to scan her to know her injuries were life threatening. Then I saw her lift her head and stare up at me.

“Let me die,” she said.

“You lied to your commander, and I know it.” If I was going to have any chance of saving her, I needed to give her a reason to fight. “So kiss my Terran ass.”

Once at Medical, we moved her into the isolation unit and sedated her. I couldn’t use skin seal on such massive stretches of flesh, and there wasn’t compatible synthetic grafting material available. I’d have to grow new skin and scales for her from her own cells—the database indicated her body would automatically reject any live donor tissue—but for now it was vital I simply keep her alive.

Working on the Hsktskt over the next several hours wasn’t pleasant. The mess and smell were, well, without parallel. Two nurses got sick and left. Interestingly enough, Pmohhi, one of the nurses I’d rescued from FurreVa’s clutches, stayed. Vlaav the Saksonan intern stuck at my side, too—although his lumpy skin turned a number of interesting colors during the treatment.

“They said you watched them do this,” Vlaav said when we were finished sealing off torn vessels.

“Yeah.” I changed my gloves for the fourth time. “It wasn’t like I had a choice.”

The nurse shifted, peering down at the big female with a queer expression. “I would have liked to watch.” Then she did something even worse.

She laughed.

The front of her tunic got in my hands. Next thing I knew, she was jammed between me and a monitoring unit, and I was in her face.

“You think this is funny? Want to volunteer next time, do a little whipping yourself?” She shook her head, terrified. I shoved her toward the door. “Get out.”

Pmohhi fled. Dchêm-os appeared a few moments later as replacement.

“A mess, this one is.” Dark fur rose slightly around her muzzle as she stopped inspecting the patient and started on me. “Unkind to Pmohhi, you were.”

“She’ll live,” I said. So I was snarling. The shrew could relate to that. “Get that setup tray over here.”

We treated FurreVa much the same way we would a third-degree burn patient. Fragments of pulverized osteodermic matter had to be removed, then wide swaths of aerated antibacterial dressings applied over her torso and legs. I annotated what areas would require deep skin-flap transplants, and hoped there was enough flesh left on her lower abdomen and appendages to harvest what I needed.

“God, I feel like I’m piecing her together with tweezers,” I said as I stripped my mask off and finished my notes.

“May I assist with the plastic surgery?” Vlaav asked.

He’d been reading FurreVa’s chart over my shoulder. “Why? You want some cheap thrills, too?”

“No.” His pocked, sallow face sobered. “I would like to comprehend your methods, and learn the techniques.”

I carefully set down the chart and considered his solemn expression. It appeared I had a potential cutter on my hands. “Fair enough.”

The damage to the back of her skull gave me justification for a full scan series, and I confirmed what I’d suspected—someone had in the recent past tried to split her head in two with some sort of heavy, bladed weapon. The articular and quadrate bones of her jaw were crushed, with additional comprehensive damage to the structure of the dentary plate.

“See that?” I showed Vlaav the readings. “Good thing her species has a kinetic skull, or she would have starved to death. Among other things.”

My main concern was the damage to the cerebral hemisphere. Reptilian life forms had small brains to begin with, and judging from localized damage, this female had lost more than twenty percent of her higher functions. That particular area of the Hsktskt brain, I discovered, also controlled personality.

“No wonder she’s such a harpy.”

It amazed me that she’d lived through the experience. I also discovered another, urgent reason FurreVa and I needed to have a little chat when she woke up.

If
she woke up.

At last Vlaav and I shifted her to the foam cradle, which groaned under her weight, but held. I instructed two orderlies to reinforce the frame and put the intern on constant monitor.

Dchêm-os came out after cleaning up the treatment room to inquire what to do about Alunthri, who had been transferred from Detainment.

I was covered with a fresh coat of Hsktskt blood, and in no state to greet my highly sensitive friend. “Give me a minute to clean up.”

I noticed Shropana’s berth was empty on my way to the cleanser and grabbed his chart. “Who discharged this patient?”

One of the nurses gave me a wary look. “He discharged himself, as soon as we brought the Chakacat in.”

Which, when I thought about Shropana’s basic wimp capacity, made perfect sense. “Have him report for follow-up in the morning.”

In the clean-up room, I was forced to strip down to my skin and sluice the stains away with a sprayer. Diluted maroon blood ran down and vanished into the duct as I watched without blinking.

You made this happen
.

I’d wanted the ruthless Hsktskt to get a taste of her own brutality, but not like this. Not knowing I was the cause. And my guilt had only worsened, knowing what she’d been hiding from everyone. The damage to her head would require substantial work—comprehensive bone grafts, cartilage transplants, and possibly open cranial repairs….

I could heal her
.

Mulling over exactly how I’d fix Helen’s face kept me so preoccupied I never heard the door panel slide shut. Something grabbed me from behind, and I shrieked in astonishment.

Four very sharp teeth, one slightly shorter than the others, clamped on the back of my neck. “Finish this now, Doctor, we will.”

Under ordinary circumstances I might have been afraid, even terrified by the assault. After watching FurreVa’s discipline, however, I virtually welcomed it.

Let her tear my throat out and get it over with now
.

Who really cared, anyway? It wasn’t like anyone would
miss
me. Maggie and Kao were dead. Reever belonged to the Hsktskt, Dhreen had sold me out, and Alunthri would be much better off without our friendship. Joren was safer without me on it, as was my adopted family.

There was no one left who needed me.

What about Jenner? Vlaav? FurreVa
?

Self-disgust instantly boiled up into the crater of shame. No, standing there and letting this homicidal shrew gnaw through my jugular wasn’t an option. Not while I still had something to love, someone to teach, and a new debt to pay.

I tugged the hand sprayer up, turned the applicator and blasted Dchêm-os directly in the face. That knocked her off and sent her hurtling to the deck. She landed close enough for me to step on her broad, flat tail.

“Zel, this is really getting old.” I could have cheerfully drowned her in the cleaner unit. No, it wasn’t worth having to scrub all over again afterward. “Tell me something. Why is it so extremely vital that you
personally
kill me?”

She jerked free with such violence that she left several inches of her tail under my footgear. Her vibrissae dripped as she snarled at me. “Never stop, I will.”

“I guess you won’t.” If it hadn’t been so sad, it would have been funny. Keeping the sprayer trained on her, I picked up the piece of her tail, which was still twitching, and held it out. “Here. You detached this.”

She snatched the stump and scuttled back out through the door panel. I pulled on a fresh tunic and went out to examine Alunthri.

The Chakacat wasn’t in any of the berths, but it didn’t take long for me to locate it. Someone had put it in a live cargo unit, from which sounds of feline displeasure were plainly audible. I released a sigh of disgust and went to let my friend out of its cage.

I crouched down next to the air slits and fumbled with the hatch lock. “Your performances have gotten pretty convincing, pal.”

“Cherijo.” Whiskers sprang through the narrow opening. “Is it safe to release me?”

Probably not, I thought, and my heart dropped a little farther into the black pit of depression. “You’ll need to keep up the feral act, okay?”

“Of course.”

I got the hatch open, and an emaciated body crawled out from the carrier. Alunthri was beyond filthy, covered with lacerations and missing patches of fur.

I sat back on my heels in shock, then took a deep breath, and began examining it. “Who did this to you?”

“The League Colonel. Some of the others.” Alunthri tried in vain to bathe some of the grime from its fur with a few swipes of its tongue. “I was compelled to defend myself.”

One of the nurses approached tentatively. “Over there,” I said, jerking my head toward a severe trauma room as I lifted my friend in my arms. “Prepare the berth for maximum restraint.” Against Alunthri’s ear I whispered, “Sorry. Have to make this look good.”