Endurance (28 page)

“Only too prevalent an opinion among my kind, I fear.” SrrokVar indicated a bare metal chair. “Sit down, please, Doctor.”

Gingerly I lowered myself into the seat. “Am I here for discipline?”

SrrokVar actually laughed—an eerie sound, coming from that inhuman throat. “No, my dear Dr. Torin. Like you, I am a physician. My field of study in xenobiology. I thought we might talk and … exchange experiences?”

He simply wanted to chat. And I was a Larian flatworm. Still, what could I say? “All right.” I pretended to relax in the seat while I studied his equipment array. The treadmills and spinal traction rigs started to bug me. “We could use some of this stuff over in the infirmary. Can I borrow a few things, when we’re through?”

“I have been informed that you treat slaves and Hsktskt alike.”

“Someone’s got to do it.” I tapped my fingers on the narrow plasteel chair arm. “If you’re a physician, why aren’t you attending to your people?”

“My aspirations require me to confine my efforts to research, Doctor. According to your records, you have worked on both a League colonial
world and a Jorenian star vessel. I should like to hear about those experiences.”

He was
definitely
too well-spoken for a lizard. I wasn’t inclined to share fond memories with a Hsktskt. “That would take awhile.”

“We have sufficient time, once we clear up the matter for which you were brought here.” He tested, then adjusted the clamp on a grav-hoist. “You can do so by relating exactly what happened to the five Aksellans removed from your infirmary.”

“Far as I know, their bodies were taken to a disposal and incinerated.”

He extended a limb and pressed something on one of the consoles. A bright white light swept over me, and I got to my feet. “Don’t be alarmed. It is merely a body scan.”

I stayed on my feet and cradled my injured arm. “I’ve been scanned before. Why now?”

He studied the resulting display data. “Two minor carpal fractures. How did you injure your wrist?”

Before I could reply, a door panel slid open, a centuron dragged a motionless prisoner into the central chamber. “Lord. This one has expired.”

“As I expected.” SrrokVar picked up a data pad, made a brief entry, then flicked his tongue at the guard. “Take it to disposal. Bring another of its kind to replace it.”

The guard dragged the dead body out to the connecting corridor. I began slowly inching over in the same direction.

“Well, it’s been great meeting you,” I said. “And much as I’d love to stick around, I really have to get back to the infirmary.”

“Oh, no, my dear.” SrrokVar had two limbs around me before I could blink. “You’re not leaving. Not until you give me all the information I require.”

I refused to panic. Panic got me broken bones and burned arms. “Like I said, Lord SrrokVar, I didn’t help anyone. Those five patients died as a result of toxic reaction to the inhibitors they were given. I have
living
patients I need to attend to.”

“Until you give me a satisfactory explanation, you will remain here.” He picked me up like a doll, trudged over, and placed me back in the metal chair. This time two half-circles of plasteel slid out and clamped around my abdomen and thighs. Through the door panel the guard had come from, I heard the faint sound of someone weeping.

Crying … where had I heard that …?

Crying chambers
, one battered prisoner had said.

Xenobiologists studied off-world species—not that there was a big demand for that career field on Terra. The distant memory of an infamous war criminal from a mid-twentieth century conflict came back to me. A doctor. It was discovered he’d been experimenting on interred prisoners at an infamous concentration camp.

The stains on the floor and odd collection of equipment suddenly made sense. And me furious.

“You’re experimenting on prisoners, aren’t you?”

“I am determining the range of physical endurance limitations among non-Hsktskt species.” SrrokVar returned to his console and began inputting more data. “It is vital to know which slaves have the highest physical endurance ratios, so that an appropriate trade value can be assigned to them.”

“And how do you determine these ratios?” My hands knotted into fists. “By torturing them?”

“I prefer to think of my trials as testing.” He swiveled around, and calibrated a syrinpress as he approached me. “The few Terran trials I have conducted in the past have not yielded significant endurance factors in your species. However, your personal display of superior healing ability has intrigued me. I am looking forward to exploring it fully.”

I told him what I thought of his monstrous work as he infused me. It got harder to swear as my tongue thickened, and the too-familiar lethargy of sedation seeped into my limbs.

“You will change your mind,” he said as he released me, caught me before I fell, and began stripping my tunic from my body. “Let us begin with what happened to the Aksellans.”

“Ak … sel … lans …”

Everything got hazy from there. I broke through the drugged stupor several times to find myself naked, strapped down, and being subjected to a thorough physical examination.

Have to stay awake
. My bleary eyes wouldn’t cooperate.
Have to know what he’s doing
.

When the sedative wore off, I realized I had been moved from the main chamber into a smaller section. I glanced down. My tunic had been replaced, and my arm throbbed. The support strap on my wrist had been augmented with a bonesetter. As for the PIC, it was healing. So fast I could almost feel the edges of the burn pulling together.

I had no clue as to what SrrokVar had done. Had I told him about Noarr? Had he used other drugs to force information out of me?

A broad strap of alloy across my chest manacled me into a sitting position against one wall panel. Another had been fastened to the back of
my slave collar. I wasn’t alone. Prisoners of many different species lined the three sides of the chamber. A few were unconscious, the rest awake, all staring directly at me.

“How long have I been out?” Sounds of distress and despair erupted around me. I repeated the question to the prisoner closest to me. He didn’t respond. No headgear. “Does anyone understand me?”

“I do,” a listless, feminine voice said. “Two hours. Perhaps a little longer.”

I craned my head over and saw a League Ensign’s tunic. A humanoid female was shackled three prisoners down from me. Dark fluid made matted patches in her pale hair, and her face was distorted by a dozen oddly shaped lumps.

I didn’t recognize her species, but at least she spoke my language. “Were you on the
Perpetua
?”

“No. The
Stephenson
.” The thin, weary-looking female rested her bulbous head against the transparent wall. “Why are you here? I thought you were an ally of the beasts.”

“No, I’m not. I never was.”

Her lips spread into a cynical grimace. “You will be now.”

“Not me.” I tested the strength of the straps. I wasn’t going anywhere.

The Ensign closed her three eyes. “You’ll do anything they want, Terran. It won’t get you out of here, but you’ll beg them to do it.”

Before I could find out more, the chamber door panel slid open and SrrokVar entered, along with three guards. He pointed to me, the female Ensign, and the emaciated figure of a badly injured humanoid. “Bring these three.”

The League female cringed. The other being was too far gone to offer more than a low whimper. I lifted my gaze to SrrokVar’s, and saw the avid interest glowing there.

I’d seen that look before. It made me want to empty my stomach on his footgear. “You don’t need them. Take me.”

“Your observations will prove instructional,” he said. “Perhaps after the trials, you can offer more enlightened opinions on the methods I employ.”

I really was going to vomit. “I don’t need to see you in action, thanks.”

The guard had to carry the injured humanoid, but the League Ensign fought them. In the end, they resorted to dragging her by the arms down the corridor. I walked behind them without protest. Watching for a chance to escape allowed me to focus on something besides the coming horrors.

Only there were no chances.

“Doctor, if you will resume your position there”—SrrokVar pointed to the metal chair I’d sat in before—“I can begin the latest test trials.”

He actually expected me to seat myself and calmly observe this sickening abomination. “No. Put them back. I can be your test subject for today.”

“You are.”

The centurons shoved me in the chair, and one stayed to keep his rifle trained on me while SrrokVar briefly examined the first humanoid.

“Hardly worth the time or effort, in this case. Still, I prefer my trials to be comprehensive. Put him there.” He indicated the treadmill, which had twin support clamps to hold the sagging prisoner in place. The half-dead alien’s body twitched spasmodically as he became aware of what was happening. That was worse than hearing him scream.

“I have information!” The League Ensign clawed at SrrokVar’s gear with a desperate hand as the guards lugged her over to one of the traction rigs. “Good information—you’ll be pleased this time, I promise. Please, please, don’t do this to me again.”

My teeth sank into my lower lip as I turned my head away. I couldn’t watch her, couldn’t be a witness to this. Not like this. Not helpless. “Lord SrrokVar, release these prisoners, and I’ll jump through whatever hoops you want me to. I swear I will. Just let them go.”

“In contrast, this species is most resilient.” SrrokVar said, as if he hadn’t heard me. He even patted the Ensign’s head with absent affection. “Today we will thoroughly test her structural limitations.”

He was going to tear her apart. “You’re insane!”

As the centurons forced the now sobbing League female’s limbs into restraint cuffs, it distracted the one watching me. I gripped the chair’s cold plasteel arms and searched the immediate area for anything I could use as a weapon. The only thing within reach was a data pad, sitting near me on a utility tray. I took it and tucked it under my arm.

“Observe, Doctor.” SrrokVar activated the treadmill and placed a monitor patch on the heaving chest of the stumbling humanoid male. He motioned to one of the guards, who positioned himself behind the male. “Fracture one of his lower appendages.”

The guard swung one of his limbs back. I was halfway to the treadmill before I heard the whipping sound and subsequent bone shatter.

“No!” Let them shoot me. “Stop!”

SrrokVar barred my path with his bulk. “You must not interfere with my test subjects, Doctor. All I require now is your clinical observation.”

“Get out of my way.” I tried to go around him, but he was bigger and faster. The Ensign’s shrieks increased in intensity as the traction rig gears
whined. I saw that counterweights had been programmed to pull her body in four different directions. “You can’t do this to them!”

“I’m a scientist.” SrrokVar folded two limbs across his broad chest. “Surely you can appreciate how valuable the knowledge I gain is for the Faction. Now, if you’ll observe the Unohew male, he manages to support his entire body weight on a single appendage. Quite well, as it happens. However, his species has no natural endorphins, which creates—”

I jammed the corner of the data pad into one of SrrokVar’s eyes, darted around him and saw the humanoid male’s unconscious body being dragged backward by the treadmill track. I lunged for the control panel to the traction rig, and managed to slam my fists into the keypad before the first pulse burst over my back.

SrrokVar had me removed to the general holding cell, and left me there for an undeterminable amount of time. The Unohew male never returned, and the newly battered League female sat curled over and wept incoherently.

I was furious. Sick. Frantic to find a way to prevent this animal imitating a physician from continuing his revolting work. I wasn’t going to sit there, stare at my footgear, and wonder how long it would take to die, like the others.

No, I had to stop this madness. But how?

The sight of two new prisoners being brought in snared my attention, especially when SrrokVar directed the centurons to manacle each on either side of me.

Wonlee—and Gael Kelly.

“Up your swiss, you caffler,” the Terran said as he fought the claws restraining him. Once the Hsktskt had departed, the rage faded from his narrow face and concerned green eyes met mine. “How’s the form,
dote
?”

The ache in my back was nothing compared to the vile taste in my mouth. What was SrrokVar using on me? “The form hurts, Irishman. How did you two get thrown in here?”

Wonlee’s spines grated against the restraints as he tested them. “Someone informed the beasts of our escape attempt.”

“The Lieutenant here and I tried to do a flit to the surface. Snared rapid, we were,” Gael said. “Scabby thicks were already there, by God, waiting for us.” He shook his head sadly. “And after I warned your hardchaw friend here to whist—”

“I
had
to tell my comrades, in the event we failed.” Won’s clawed feet tapped an impatient rhythm against the quasi-quartz floor. “They wouldn’t betray us.”

“Someone did, boyo.” Gael banged his head back against the wall. “This place makes me want to bolt. What manner of mortaller are they inflicting on these poor knackers?”

I wasn’t looking forward to telling him. For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to think. Did Reever know I was here? Would he even care? “The one in charge is called SrrokVar. He’s torturing slaves and calling it research.”

Wonlee made a strangled sound of frustration. “How do we get out of here?”

I watched as guards reappeared and one of them came toward me. My stomach solidified into a cold, clenched knot as my restraints were released. “I wish I knew.”

Most of the drugs in my system wore off over the next hours as SrrokVar conducted his first series of tolerance tests on me.

The tests appeared deceptively mild at first. The Hsktskt compelled me to run the treadmill at various speeds, then stand in a tiny envirodome while the internal temperature went from arid to freezing. Uncomfortable, but not painful. Not until the guards removed the bonesetter and strapped my wrists into two small rings suspended from a grav-hoist. SrrokVar raised me a few feet off the floor, and my own weight put immediate, searing stress on my broken carpal bones.