Shackleton's Folly (The Lost Wonder Book 1) (25 page)

“The more you drink, the more blood your body will produce. Med Bay’s system ethics refuses to take all the blood Alec requires.” Electra started to say something but was stopped by Dancer. “I informed the system of your wishes.”

The Medical Bay’s alarms blared as Dancer ran into the room. His made his way quickly to the med-bed, scanning the display for the alert but found none. Dancer turned quickly to Electra’s form. Her skin was pale, and the transfusion unit had been hacked. Electra had overridden the safeties and had given more blood faster than her body could produce. She was dying.

Dancer pulled the unit away from her and switched it off. He grabbed an IV stand from a closet and a fluids bag from the cupboard. He hooked it up above her, and, taking a needle, he found a vein in her exposed arm and stuck it home. The flexible tubing attached started delivering the life-giving fluids to save her life.

Dancer adjusted the flow rate of the solution to “high” and hung a second bag to deliver the blood-producing medication intravenously. She needed to be brought back to health. He was obligated. Dancer quieted the alarms, taking readings of her vital signs. They were no longer dropping.

He looked to the monitors over the med-bed. Electra’s brash act to save Alec may have worked, but it was far too early to tell. Alec’s critical condition was no longer in decline. He was just holding on. The next 18 hours would be critical for both Electra and Alec.

*

The Medical Bay was not designed for comfort. The automation built into the med-bed meant no medical staff needed to be stationed in the room since it was a relatively small yacht. Electra was in her chair asleep; a pillow had been mashed up to rest her head on, and a blanket covered her. Dancer entered the room, trying not to wake her.

Electra had come back from the edge of death herself. When she awoke and realized that she was no longer attached to the transfusion unit, she demanded to be reattached. It took Dancer a while, but he finally convinced Electra that it was out of their hands. It was up to Alec now.

Electra spent most of her time over the next three days running back and forth from the command deck to the Medical Bay to oversee the
Quest
’s journey and Alec’s medical treatment.

Dancer was perfectly able to manage the
Quest
and let her stay with Alec, but she needed a task away from Alec to give her the feeling of control over something. It was plain to Dancer that Electra’s romantic attachment to Alec went well beyond their physical coupling. Dancer provided all the support he could, but that would not cover her emotional need while they both waited for Alec to complete his recovery.

Alec had upgraded the med-bed a few years back, after a near miss when Alec nearly lost the use of his right arm. The old medical system was not too familiar with human physiology and had thought a simple amputation would promote the re-growth of the limb. Alec had managed to dive out of the way as the lasers descended to take his arm. He was able to use a med-bed of another human-owned ship to heal up at the time but then made it a point to upgrade the system to a state-of-the-art model by special order, with a full medical and pharmaceutical guide for human physiology. Alec had worked among the alien races alone; many had never seen a human, so help with an injury was just not possible.

The med-bed’s timer read 92:49. Electra awakened slowly to Dancer’s presence. Dancer interfaced with the medical system to examine Alec’s condition. Electra got up from the chair and stretched some as she ended up next to Dancer.

“Get you a cup of coffee?” asked Dancer.

Electra’s eyes ran across the system indicators showing that everything had progressed as predicted. She shook out her hair and brushed it from her face. “Sure,” she said.

She looked over her shoulder as they exited the Medical Bay. Alec floated serenely in the fluid. They entered the galley, where Dancer moved to the coffee machine. “What would you like?”

“Espresso, double shot, please. I need the caffeine.”

“I can do that — take a seat. It will be just a minute.” Dancer grabbed the appropriate cup and saucer from the cupboard.

Electra found a seat on the couch running along the wall across from where Dancer was standing. The physical strain, emotion, and exhaustion had taken their toll on her. Dancer ground the beans and knocked off the excess espresso from the portafilter. He picked up a tamper and packed the coffee ready for the machine. Dancer replaced the now-full portafilter into place. He set the cup under the dispenser and pulled the lever to start the extraction. The rich brown liquid flowed in a few seconds into the clean white cup below. The process now complete, Dancer picked up the espresso and slid a saucer underneath as he went to Electra.

She took the drink from him. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Dancer returned to the espresso machine to clean it.

“I want to apologize for what I said earlier.”

“Apology accepted,” said Dancer as he wiped down the machine.

“It was not my intention to draw Alec into this.” Electra sipped her espresso.

“I thought you were on a mission, were you not?”

“Yes, but my mission was to use any means necessary to track down the Rovers and recover the technology they took. It turned out that the technology was critical to the maintenance systems my people were dependent on for their continued existence.”

“You were not going to use any means necessary to recover the technology? You are a very attractive human.”

“When I accepted the command, I knew it might come to that.”

“Should I be concerned?”

She hesitated. “I have never met a man quite like Alec before, and he treats me as an equal.” She then said exasperatedly, “He walks into the most dangerous situations possible with little more than courage and his intelligence.”

“Alec has been the object of much bigotry and racism as the only human many of the other races have ever seen. He will take on the most dangerous individuals to protect the needy. You were a slave — and a human one at that.”

“When I saw him at the coffee house, I thought he was one of the Rovers I was looking for and a source of information. I never imagined that we would be on this mission.”

Dancer folded his arms across his chest. “He might not want to admit it, but he has a brave heart when those he cares about are involved.”

The two were silent again. Electra sipped her espresso again. “What about you, Electra? How did you get here?” asked Dancer.

“I am part of my government’s security forces. A call for volunteers was made for a mission off-world. I immediately sent my name in for consideration. Orders were sent, and I reported with another ten specialists for training. I was the highest-ranking officer and put in charge. We had a month’s worth of training before starting the mission. My people are not much in the way of what you would call ‘explorers.’” Electra studied Dancer’s expression. “We had no reason previously to explore outside our little region of space and had no idea of how we might be received by anyone. The team worked well together, and we accomplished a lot in a short amount of time. Our contacts were few and far between at first. We had to find a source for learning the common interspecies communication and languages.”

“We learned of the horrid fate of humanity and how they had lost their home world, the human hunts, and the human resistance groups who were becoming troublesome in the region. Our ship had been scrubbed clean of anything that would lead someone to our home world. We took on the persona of one of the resistance groups. Our ship was outfitted without any real weaponry. We then went to work and scouted our corner of the galaxy. Then it was a lot of undercover infiltrations on worlds that were very different from ours, but that was to be expected.”

“A human resistance group must have brought unwanted attention,” commented Dancer.

“Very much so, but it gave us the breathing room in the areas of society we were traveling in. You know, anti-establishment. We did a lot of work to blend into the native populations as we progressed in our search. Our downfall came at a very dangerous place called Sha’kam. It was a very ancient world, and there was a sense of things not being right with the place. A sense of something that even now is hard to put into words. Evil, danger, wrongness — they could all hit you at once or individually. We had a lead on one of the groups we were tailing. We passed through that system and landed.

“I sent out three sets of specialists to get information, when one of my teams got caught hacking into the local historical database. They were able to get word and data back to us just before their communication stopped abruptly. I sent out a recall for the others, and the other four made it back. We stayed as long as we could and fired up the engines for liftoff. We followed the trail we found in the data and ended up at the Snowflake. Safe — or so we thought. We sent team after team trying to beat the puzzle of the Snowflake. We lost more of the crew.

“A salvage ship arrived at the Snowflake, crewed by criminals who cared only about what they could sell as ‘salvage.’ They attacked our ship without provocation. We were taken prisoner and sold into bondage. I do not know what happened to the ship — it was either was sold whole, scrapped, or parted out.”

The espresso cup, now empty, hung forgotten on her index finger. “We were held, three in one cramped cage and two in the other. There were two other cages with prisoners like us. Their ship had been attacked while exploring the city of ruins on a moon — or so they said. They were taken as salvage, too. I only remember images of the next few days… weeks? Time was meaningless for us — pain, fear, hunger, and sleeplessness were our existence. I do not know what happened to those captured in the city, but they were taken away. The five of us on the ship tried to support each other as much as possible. Death would have been a welcome release, but it did not come. The salvage crew believed our cover — no reason not to — and we were able to maintain it. I cannot say why it all stopped, but, one day, they came in and fitted me with slave anklets. I was taken to the slave markets and sold.”

“And the rest of the crew?” asked Dancer.

“I never saw them again,” replied Electra. She stared off into the distance in deep thought. The tips of her fingers dug into the couch pillow, her body language reflecting the emotions that welled up after telling her story.

Electra teared up. “I waited until I was alone before it really touched me. We had all volunteered for the mission, but… I was responsible for them then and now Alec.” She fell silent.

“Alec did what needed to be done, what had to be done. He survived and is on the mend. He would have done what he did back there whether you were here or not. Remember, he was on his own mission,” reminded Dancer. “His information about the inscriptions proved to be wrong, but he did not know it at the time. He would have flown through that mini-star with or without you. In a very substantial way, you are the reason he is still alive and in the Medical Bay. You were there for him and brought him into the ship. I couldn’t have done that and fly the ship at the same time.”

“He is a good man, Dancer,” she stated.

“Yes, I believe so,” he responded.

Electra turned her attention back to Dancer. “Do you think we have a chance?” Electra leaned forward.

“With?” Dancer observed her body language.

“The mission, of course,” she replied. Her expression said there was something else, more than what she had said.

“Alec has the resourcefulness needed for this kind of expedition. It is in his blood. You see, his ancestor became known for his leadership and ability to pull through the most harrowing and dangerous expeditions. The hero’s journey has led us here, and I am sure that his path does not end here. He might not want to admit it, but he has a brave heart and a good soul.”

Electra ran through all the events that had brought her to this place. She had stepped into command of the mission without questioning her motives or abilities. Now she wondered about how things had turned out. If there were survivors, they would be continuing the mission, just as she did. She had found allies. “Thanks for the espresso and the chat.”

“My pleasure. Is it time to check on Alec?”

“Oh, yes it is. I will let you know if his status changes.” She got up and handed Dancer her cup as she went by to disappear down the corridor.

Dancer had been in constant contact with the systems in the Medical Bay. Alec had kept himself in good physical condition, giving his body a healthy framework to work from if injured. It was one of the few things in his favor.

*

Alec could feel the soft current of air across his body. He knew without opening his eyes where he was. The med-bed was in the final phase of the healing process. A warm breeze enveloped his body, drying the liquid from his skin.

Alec tried to move a bit, only to be rebuffed by his own nervous system. It hurt just to think. Every fiber of his being rebelled against his moving even a centimeter. He had been terribly beaten up, and he would have welcomed unconsciousness again. He was like the bait used to hook a large fish — thrown out into the ocean, dragged until the strike of the fish, and reeled back in, coming back in much worse shape than when he was cast out.

Alec tested his body to see what worked. He could flex the forefinger on his right hand. It hurt — not enough for him to let out a yelp of pain or anything, but it meant that what he remembered about coming back in was not far off the mark. He knew he was lucky to be alive.

Alec steeled himself and opened his eyes. The med-bed registered his consciousness and slid back the canopy. He gazed up into Electra’s concerned face. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She gently reached down and brushed back the hair from his face. He turned his face into her hand. She went still and allowed him to caress her hand.

“You said that you would be safe,” said Electra. She wiped away excess moisture from her eyes.

“I did come back — it just did not go as to plan,” he said as he raised his hand up to take hers. He held it tightly and brought it up and kissed it. “Thank you.” Alec reached down and pressed one of the med-bed’s buttons. An internal mechanism lowered the bed for easy egress. Alec slowly raised himself up and grimaced as he breathed deeply. Electra helped him get himself situated as he put his feet down on the floor for the first time in more than four days. “Did we do it?” he asked.