Eternity Row (14 page)

I moved closer to the vid screen. “I beg your pardon, the wanting what condition?”

“The wanting condition. That is all we call it.”

“Okay.” I pursed my lips. “Can you transmit the complete medical data on this condition to my ship?”

He looked away for a moment, then gave me another slow smile. “No, that is not permitted.”

His languid, nonchalant attitude was really starting to bug me. “Then can you tell me about it?”

“I’m not a physician.”

“In your words will be fine.” For now, anyway.

“It began one hundred revolutions ago.” He made an airy gesture. “Our people simply stopped having children. Now there are no more left.”

Maybe he was intoxicated. “No children have been born on your homeworld since this wanting condition showed up?”

“That is correct.”

“Everyone’s reproductive system suddenly shut down overnight? Males
and
females?” He nodded, and I rubbed my palms against my trousers. “What is your current population, Plaak?”

“One moment.” He checked something, then turned back to the screen. “At the last world census, two billion, five hundred and forty-three million, seven hundred and thirty-three thousand, nine hundred and twelve.”

Oenrall had too large a population to have suffered long-term effects of a limited gene pool. It didn’t make sense. Two billion plus people simply didn’t spontaneously lose their ability to proliferate. Not unless they’d been subjected to serious planetary-scale radiation. Or I was getting the data from a less than reliable source.

I picked the more realistic of the two. “Are you sure about this, sir?”

He shrugged. “Why would I lie?”

Most species went through fertile and infertile periods during their development, but individual age was generally the determining factor. “Has there been any widespread environmental contamination on Oenrall? You know-industrial waste, biotech weapons fallout, that sort of thing?”

Another yawn, one he didn’t bother to cover. “Our people don’t pollute our resources, or engage in warfare.”

Maybe it was part of the Oenrallian life cycle. “Has it ever happened before?” At his blank look, I added, “In the history of your planet, have your people ever experienced mass reproductive problems?”

“Not that I know of.”

I dredged up one memory of reading a report on certain types of solar radiation, the unexpected increase of which had wiped out a number of inhabited planets. “What about the other life-forms on Oenrall? How are the nonsentients doing?”

“The wanting condition only affects my species.”

Cross out the usual sources, which left only a few unpleasant possibilities. Genetic mutation. Plague. Other forms of natural annihilation. “May I petition your government to have the medical data on this condition sent to my ship?”

“No.” He seemed a little annoyed. “I’ve answered all your questions, haven’t I?”

That he had. Now I only had a thousand more to ask. “Perhaps I should speak to another physician. Would that be possible?”

“I don’t know.” He looked away again. “No, there are none available to speak to you now.”

I ground my molars together. Diplomacy was getting me nowhere. Maybe telling them about Ilona’s pregnancy would. “Would you ask one to signal me as soon as possible? I have a female passenger who is pregnant with an Oenrallian child.”

He didn’t jump for joy. He chuckled. “Sure you do.”

“I’ll transmit my medical data, if you need proof.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” He obviously didn’t believe me. “You want anything else?”

Besides a blunt object to use on his head? “No, that’s all for now. Thank you for your… assistance.” I terminated the signal, and sat back to mull over what I’d learned.

I found myself pulling up the data on Dhreen’s species, and checking the average life span. In both genders, it ranged between two hundred and fifty to three hundred revolutions.

Which meant the people of Oenrall only had two hundred years left before they became extinct.

PART Two Persuasions CHAPTER SIX Remnants of Battle

I temporarily put aside the problem on Oenrall and went back to working on a way to keep Dhreen’s liver functioning. There was little I could do without hard data, and I got the impression the physicians on his homeworld weren’t in any rush to consult with me.

The Lok-Teel had actually been helping Dhreen’s failing liver by removing toxins from his blood, and more. After I read through some unusual notes on his chart, I called the ward nurse who made them into Squilyp’s office.

Savetka, a new addition to the staff, seemed a little nervous as she stood before the desk. “How may I be of assistance, Healer?”

I held up Dhreen’s chart. “You recommend we investigate using the Lok-Teel for wound management. Why?”

“They seem to sense what needs to be done.” She shifted her weight and dropped her gaze to the deck. “Initially, I noted how they were drawn to the patient’s surgical site whenever I changed his dressing. Then the patient dislodged the chest drain, which I discovered shortly after during my hourly monitor. I found a Lok-Teel adhered to the drain site. There was no fluid buildup, and his vitals improved greatly over the course of the remainder of my shift.” She met my gaze.

“If I have exceeded my authority with this recommendation, Healer, I would ask your pardon.”

“Exceed your authority anytime you like, Savetka.” I got up and handed her the chart. “I’d like you to work with the surgical residents and compose a treatment schedule using Lok-Teel application for direct wound drainage.”

Her eyes rounded. “To initiate therapy?”

“Uh-huh. I also want your recommendations on how the therapy can be used for other postsurgical patients. You’ll need to set up some trial runs, see if your idea works on other types of wounds. Arrange a testing schedule with the residents, and copy your findings to me and the Senior Healer.”

She seemed dazed as she cradled the chart between her big hands. “Yes, Healer.”

“One more thing.” I gave her a megawatt grin. “Excellent work, nurse.”

Duncan was waiting up for me when I came off duty, and Marel’s room was dark. I checked the late hour on the wall terminal and nearly groaned as I recalled his request from the morning.

“Sorry.” I went over to kiss him, and collapsed on the sofa beside him. “I had the best intentions in the world, until I started trying to reconstruct an organ.”

“It does not matter.”

But it did. I could tell. I sat up. “What did I do now?”

His arm pulled me close, and one of his hands touched my face. The link was immediate and shook me. Not from the suddenness of Duncan in my thoughts, but the state of his emotions. He was beyond angry.

I found something in our bedchamber last night
. Reever pulled me from the sofa and led me into our room.
Pretend we are retiring as usual
.

I tried to joke my way out of my nervousness.
That would mean tearing your clothes off and throwing myself on top of you
.

His mouth curled on one side.
Not this time
.

I didn’t have to fake a yawn as I stripped down and lowered the optic emitters. Reever did the same on his side of the room, then we both climbed into bed. I snuggled up beside him, trying to figure out how I was going to see what he wanted to show me.
Well
?

Roll over and look at the wall panel above your head.

I rolled and looked. Something, a tiny something, sparkled against the polished alloy surface. As what it was sank in, I forgot to feel tired. I reached up, but Reever grabbed me and rolled me under him.

You can’t remove it. The hell I can’t
. I tried to push him off.

Sauilyp signaled me about Qonja. Joren may be planning to enter the League/Hsktskt conflict. If they do, they would be fools not to make use of you and me, and our particular knowledge of either side.

I went still as the implications of what that meant flooded inside my head.
No. They wouldn’t. Xonea wouldn’t do that to us
.

Recording drones don’t implant themselves
. He stroked my arm.
Unless… are you sure Joseph is dead
?

I watched him die
. My numbness wore off as I looked through the door panel toward Marel’s room. It would be simple to use our daughter to ensure our cooperation-but I couldn’t believe the Torins would do that. The Ruling Council, on the other hand…
We have to get off this ship
.

Reever lifted his head and looked down at me.
Not until we know who did this, and what they want
.

The next day, Reever found seven more drones, using some kind of structural analyzer he “borrowed” from Engineering. They were in every room, even Marel’s. We decided to do nothing immediately-actually, Duncan decided that. I was personally in favor of ripping them out and stuffing them down Qonja’s- or Xonea’s-throat.

His argument was logical:
If we don’t learn why they have us under surveillance, we may walk into another trap
.

Fine. Just remember, until those things are out of here, we don’t get to do anything but sleep.

Alunthri stopped by our quarters to see Juliet and Jenner’s new family a few days later. Marel, who had appointed herself both godmother and guardian to the kittens, warned the Chakacat not to handle the kittens just yet.

“Makes Juweeyed berbous, Mama says.”

“Your mama is right.” Alunthri crouched down beside the storage unit and peered into the kittening box. “A fine litter. My small sibling must be proud.”

“Your little brother keeps trying to crash the maternity ward,” I told Alunthri as I brought over a server of its favorite beverage, cafe au lait, heavy on the au lait. “I had to reprogram the door panel to keep him out.”

Hearing that made Marel demand to go and console the sulking Jenner, so I signaled Fasala and asked her to come by and pick up my daughter for a visit. Already a few inches taller than me, Darea’s daughter had grown back the hair she’d lost from radiation exposure two years before, and was turning into another Jorenian beauty.

“How’s your ClanMom and ClanDad?” I asked her when she arrived.

“Very well, Healer, but perhaps more fatigued than is usual.” She wrinkled her nose at me. “At least, they tell that is the reason they spend so much time in their bedchamber of late.”

I hid a smile. “Old people like us get tired easily.”

After the girls left, Alunthri lingered, talking about its work on cataloguing the different types of artistic expression from around the galaxy, and the anticipation it had for our sojourn on Taerca. It inquired about Dhreen, and I filled it in on his condition, Ilona’s pregnancy, and the whole strange conversation with the Oenrallian communications officer.

“Why would he reject his own child when it obviously represents a solution to his people’s dilemma?” Alunthri’s confusion made its ears flick back and forth. “And why would Plaak show no interest in your information about Ilona’s pregnancy?”

“Beats me.”

We sat for a time in silence, until I noticed my friend’s colorless eyes straying back to the storage unit. “Is something bothering you, Alunthri?”

Whiskers twitched. “Oh, no, Cherijo. I was simply… thinking. It is good that Jenner bred Juliet. Many of the crew would enjoy having domestic companions of their own.”

“Nice try, but that’s not it,” I guessed.

Alunthri grimaced, baring its small, sharp teeth for a moment. “You know me too well.”

“Might as well get it over with and tell me now.”