Shadows In Still Water (12 page)

Staring across the water, Aurelia wrapped her arms around her chest and paced back and forth. Her stomach churned and her head felt light but she couldn’t seem to step away from that gleaming silver line.

Come on, hurry up, Zimbin, she thought. Bedden Gel had called the upper valley requesting more time but they had only given him ten extra minutes. Should have gone myself. She turned to walk back the other way. She knew she never would have been able to stand being in an open hauler hanging over the water. During her recovery from the platerius injury, swimming lessons had been part of her therapy and she had been physically ill after each session.

The water lapped softly against the pavement as if to gently pull her into its cold embrace. Where the sun could not reach, the water looked dark with shadows.

Aurelia jumped at a tap on her shoulder and involuntarily swung her fist.

“Hey! That’s my head you’re trying to take off!” Jak exclaimed, ducking out of the way.

“Don’t creep up on me like that!”

“I wasn’t. What’s going on?”

Aurelia nodded her head toward the end of the street. “One of the shuttles is stuck out there. Zimbin and Millie went to retrieve it.”

“The crew techs should do that.”

“They’ve done it before. They can handle it.”

Jak shrugged. “How did it happen?” he asked.

Sighing, Aurelia shook her head, “Who knows. Sometimes I wish Rekhaan would take up farming as an occupation. Anything to keep him away from me. How was your council meeting?”

Jak shrugged again. “Okay. The usual. Do you remember that Kaprinian that was on the space station? The one I said was Kosapi?”

“The one with the funny antennae.”

“Well, he’s here. I just saw him. Thought you should know.”

“So? He is a diplomat. And there is a consulate here.”

“I don’t like him.”

Aurelia raised her hands in the air. “I don’t see that there’s anything we can do about it. What am I supposed to do? Say, hey, we don’t like your looks, get off the planet?”

“Aura, I’m telling you this guy is dangerous and he is here for a reason.”

“Okay. We’ll tell Millie and keep our eyes open. I don’t think we can do much more than that.”

Jak frowned and finally nodded, “I guess you’re right but I don’t like it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to start doing some vaccinations.”

Aurelia watched the young doctor walk up the street and frowned herself. Jak was not prone to undue worry. Perhaps she should keep an eye out for this Kosapi.

Now what’s going on? she thought seeing Rob Keller stop to talk to Jak for a minute then Jak hurry away. The lab tech continued walking toward her with a huge grin on his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Aurelia asked.

“They have a saying on Berellia: Face death with a smile.”

“You’re not Berellian.”

“Nooooo,” Rob replied slowly, “but I’m facing certain death.”

With hands on her hips, Aurelia glared at him, “Now what?!”

“Uh, Rekhaan just called me,” he began and stepped back a pace. “I guess the shuttle bay doors won’t open. Something about an electrical reflux.”

Into the quiet sounds of birds chirping and water gently lapping came a stream of hideous words. Even Rob who had spent five years as a sailor in the Earth Armada looked shocked. Aurelia ripped her receiver off her belt, jabbing at the keys so hard she broke the plastic cap off the number two. After that it wouldn’t depress all the way, and, swearing again, Aurelia threw the comm-link on the ground. Reaching out, she yanked Rob’s receiver off his belt, ignoring his sharp yelp. “The little jot of farck meat’s not answering,” Aurelia muttered, having given the crew chief ten seconds to reply. She tapped the numbers in again and kept at it until one of the communication techs answered the call.

“Where’s Rekhaan?” Aurelia demanded. The little weasel, she thought, I’m sure he calls Keller instead of me.

“He’s working in the engine room,” the comm tech replied.

“Will miracles never cease? He’s actually working. What’s this about the bay doors?”

“They won’t open. In fact we can’t get anything open including the airlocks.”

Shoving a strand of hair out of her face, Aurelia shook her head, “So what you’re telling me is nobody can get on and nobody can get off?”

“That’s right.”

Aurelia could feel the swear words welling up again. “We need the rest of the equipment. Now! Drill a hole in the damn bulkhead if you have to but get it done!” Blowing the breath out of her cheeks, she disconnected the link and threw the receiver back at Keller. A half second later her own receiver beeped. She scooped it up, grimacing at the mud on the back of it, and answered the call.

“I have Admiral Meng on the line for you, Doctor. I’ll pipe it through,” said the comm tech.

After a brief delay, the admiral’s voice came through, sounding entirely too cheerful. “How’s my favorite chief surgeon doing?” he asked.

Aurelia gave a short laugh, “Don’t ask.”

“Was getting worried about you,” Meng replied. “Couldn’t get through for a long time.”

“Our communications were out for awhile.” Aurelia explained about the gravity wave, or what they were calling a gravity wave for now. She thought about telling him of the whole meeting with Arnott and the others but decided it would just sound like she was whining.

“You say Rekhaan doesn’t think it was a natural phenomenon?” Meng asked.

“That’s right. It caused a flood here on Jidal. We’re down here now giving vaccinations.”

“Is there a Kaprinian named Althan Tahk there?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Hmmm,” was Meng’s reply.

“You can’t just ask a question like that and not tell me why.”

“Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, I am worried. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong as far as I know. Got another call. Talk to you later,” Meng signed off.

Aurelia frowned. The Admiral didn’t ask questions like that for no reason. He had an uncanny knack for knowing when there was a problem. She recalled her first assignment as a general surgeon on the Healer.

The ship had answered a call from a Sclarian outpost. The chief surgeon, Dr. Lazarus Stavinsky, a balding, heavyset man with a handlebar mustache who took snuff on the sly, one of the nurses and Aurelia shuttled down to answer the call.

When they arrived at the main building, they were met by a group of four Sclarians. Their spokesman, who would have rolled down a hill like a basketball if he ever fell, quickly explained why they had called for medical help. “Two Cassopian traders have been here negotiating for a shipment of bilexin gas. Yesterday one of them died for no apparent reason. We want you to do an autopsy on her.”

“You can’t do that,” spoke up a pale, young Cassopian male who pushed his way through the group of Sclarians. His brown and white wings were raised slightly as if he were agitated. Although his top pair of hands were folded calmly, the bottom two plucked at his shirt.

Dr. Stavinsky patted his shoulder, “It’s just a scan, son. Nothing invasive.”

“No,” the head Sclarian objected. “We want a full, open cavity autopsy.”

“We’d have to have family permission to do that,” Stavinsky replied.

The Sclarian snorted. “Cassopians don’t have families. Besides Intergalactic law says this happened on our territory so our laws apply. And we don’t need anybody’s permission.”

Aurelia caught a desperate glance from the Cassopian and quickly stepped forward. “I don’t think that applies on an autopsy. The Cassopian’s right, Dr. Stavinsky, we can’t do this.”

The chief surgeon frowned at her. “I’ll handle this, Aurelia.”

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’m telling you, Doctor, an autopsy on a Cassopian is not a good idea.”

“I did not ask for your opinion, Doctor.”

“On the way down here you said this would be my case.”

“I said maybe. I will handle this,” Stavinsky said.

“You’ll have to get through me first,” the Cassopian declared.

“And I’ll help him any way I can,” Aurelia added.

For several hours the standoff lasted. Stavinsky pulled Aurelia aside and demanded to know why an autopsy should not be performed on a Cassopian, but she refused to reveal her reasons. She got a sort of perverse pleasure out of seeing him practically tearing out what little hair remained to him trying to decide what to do. First, he tried to convince the Sclarians to be content with a scan, then he called the Cassopian government and received a terse message refusing permission for an open autopsy, next he called Rama to speak with a judge he knew who was an expert on intergalactic law. Both doctors were back on the Healer, and Stavinsky was no closer to a decision when they received an urgent call from the surface, this time from the Cassopian.

Only the Cassopian greeted them when they arrived on the outpost. He stood, leaning against the wall, shaking his head. “I think it’s probably too late,” he said leading them into the building and down the hall to a door marked with the Sclarian equivalent of Supply Room. “Don’t touch them with your bare hands,” he cautioned as he opened the door for them.

Although, Aurelia had known what to expect her stomach still heaved slightly at the sight of the four Sclarians sprawled around the room in grotesque formations of death. The body of the Cassopian lay on a table, its chest cavity ripped open and still dripping with a black liquid that smelled of hydrochloric acid and burnt raisins. The head Sclarian still gripped a knife in his hand though his face was unrecognizable, covered by the poison liquid now turning sticky on his skin. A quick scan showed all four had died quickly from poison.

“I told them not to do the autopsy,” the Cassopian said.

Stavinsky turned on him. “Why didn’t you tell us this would happen? What is it? Some kind of poison sac?”

Nodding, the Cassopian replied, “We do not reveal everything we are capable of to anyone, especially people who were enemies only two years ago.”

Stavinsky looked over at Aurelia who flipped her hair back and said, “I told you so.”

Admiral Meng had called at precisely that moment, rescuing her from Stavinsky’s wrath. In fact, the chief surgeon was so furious Aurelia had transferred temporarily to a space station before being assigned to the
Pasteur
, first as general surgeon then moving up to chief herself.

“Excuse me, Doc,” Keller said, breaking into her thoughts. “They’re looking for you up at the vaccination site.”

“I’m on my way,” Aurelia replied, tossing her comm-link to him. “See if you can get that fixed will you? It’s the number two button.”

Keller nodded and Aurelia limped slowly up the street, hoping Zimbin and Millie would get back soon.

Coughing and gagging on salty sludge, Millie gripped Torp Nevad’s strong fingers and pushed with her toes as he pulled her out of the water onto the grass.

“You okay?” the Raman asked.

Millie nodded and waved Bridget and Steve back to their places. “I’m okay,” she choked out the words. “Finish those tags. We don’t have much time.” Shoving strands of wet hair out of her face and mouth, Millie picked up the last anti-gravity tag which had landed on the grass instead of in the water. She limped to the end of the shuttle and stuck the tag as high up as she could reach. Already, her back and neck felt sore. Turning her arm over, she examined the long, oozing red scratch that was just beginning to sting. She waved at Zimbin.

Lowering the hauler, Zimbin waited for them all to climb aboard. “You okay, Mil? I thought we’d lost you for a minute,” he said when they were all on board.

“It’s not that easy to lose me,” Millie laughed. “I’m fine,” she assured him.

The Berellian nodded and thumbed a combination into his control pad. The sound of the engines changed to a high-pitched, steady tone and in a few minutes the hauler lifted the shuttle off its grassy knoll. The vehicle floated directly below the hauler and no matter how she turned, Millie couldn’t see it. With her neck protesting, she asked Zimbin, “Is it in balance?”

Checking his instruments, he nodded, “It’s okay. We’re out of here.”

By the time they reached the spot where they had left Aurelia, the water had already risen to that point so they flew on to Linden Court. Zimbin set the shuttle down and released it then landed the hauler. Climbing out carefully, Millie walked over to the shuttle and opened the door. Some water had leaked in and several of the equipment boxes were covered with mud.

“What happened to you?” Millie heard Aurelia’s voice behind her and turned around, holding one of the boxes in her arms.

“Just an unexpected swim. Got a nice scratch. I think I gave myself whiplash too.”

Aurelia frowned, “Do you want me to check it?”

“Nah, just give me two Tridols. I’ll be fine.”

The doctor fished through her utility belt then glanced around. “Jak,” Aurelia called. “Do you have any Tridol?”

The Kaprinian waved and finished the vaccination he was performing then sauntered over to the two women. His nose wrinkling, he looked Millie over. “Phew, you smell ripe.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m thinking of bottling it. Essence of rotting fish,” Millie replied than looked up at him suspiciously. “Have you been with the council all this time?” she asked.

“No,” Jak admitted, both antennae waving lazily. “I did some shopping and ate lunch.”

“Oh, you did a little shopping and ate lunch, how nice. Here!” Millie shoved the box into his arms.

With a yelp, Jak pulled the box away from his chest but a wide band of mud already streaked his dress uniform.

“Look what you did!” he yelled, dropping the box and swiping at his shirt. “Now I’m going to have to go back up to the ship and change.”

“Oh, here,” Millie said, feeling slightly guilty as she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his muddy front.

“That won’t be possible,” Aurelia said. “The shuttle bay doors won’t open.”

“What?!” It was a chorus from Millie and Jak.

“We can’t get in or out.”

“Okay, people,” Millie said, suddenly feeling more than exasperated. She picked up an orange box that had a handle on top and started walking up the road. “I’m going to go put up one of these domes and take a shower. And then I’m going to do nothing for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, Millie, I forgot to tell you...” Jak began.

“Save it,” Millie interrupted, throwing the words over her shoulder. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

“But it’s important.”

“Oh no, it’s not.” Millie waved and kept walking.

Despite her best intentions, after her shower, Millie ended up helping Zimbin and the students set up camp in a park-like area just below the bluff. It was rather a pitiful sight with only four envirodomes where normally there would be more than ten. The rounded structures held six to eight people each in comfort with regular beds and a temperature controlled environment. In addition, a large water-repellent tarp had been rolled out along with an odd assortment of cots, sleeping bags and cushioned mats. Zimbin had checked all the hotels in town but they were already filled with flood victims. Some of the townspeople had scrounged up a few extra mats and blankets for them. A couple of cases of rations had made it down from the ship but most people were opting to eat in town.

About 1800 hours, Millie collapsed on the tarp with arms and legs outstretched and released a long sigh. She eyed Zimbin as he walked over with a paper bag in his hand. Tapping her with his foot he held it out to her. “We’re all drawing numbers for the envirodomes, Millie, Aurelia’s orders. The first thirty two are the lucky ones.”

Propping herself up on one elbow, Millie reached for the bag, but Zimbin held it back. He eyed her hopefully. “Doc didn’t draw. Said she would take a sleeping bag,” Zimbin informed her.

“So? What, as head nurse I’m supposed to be noble and self-sacrificing? Forget it, bub. Give me that thing.” Reaching up, Millie dipped her hand in the bag and brought out a yellow plastic disc with a number on it. She glanced at it and groaned, “Thirty-three! I say this thing is rigged.”

“Not at all,” Zimbin replied. “A Berellian is always honest.”

“And what number did you get?”

“Well, gotta go.” Zimbin scrunched the bag closed and lumbered off.

“May your envirodome lose power and collapse on your head during the night!” Millie called after him.

“I got gypped too,” said Bridget as she came up from behind Millie and sat down next to her. She held out a steaming mug, “Reconstituted chili, want some? Or are you going into town?”

“I’m not moving from this spot the rest of the night.” Millie gratefully took the mug and started eating.

“I offered some to Dr. Aurelia, but she just glared at me,” said Bridget with a sigh.

Millie shrugged. “Just ignore her. She’s in her silent mode again. It happens quite frequently.”

Turning over on her stomach, Brid picked at the purple grass at the edge of the tarp. “This isn’t exactly what I expected,” she admitted. She stuck a piece of grass in her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “It seems like we’ve been shuffled here and there with everybody yelling at us and I haven’t learned a thing. I just feel so dumb.”

Millie smiled and slid an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “You’re not supposed to know everything yet. That’s what this program is all about. Getting some on-the-job training, see if you even like it. Right?”

Bridget nodded in agreement but still looked doubtful. Millie drew a breath and continued, “Look, everybody on the
Pasteur
is more than willing to help you. All you have to do is ask. Most of us have been aboard for a long time and we all help each other.”

“What about Dr. Aurelia? I think she hates me. She scares me.”

“Aurelia is mostly bark.” Millie paused and smiled. “She’s only hit one intern in all the time I’ve known her.”

“She really hit somebody?”

“He refused to treat a patient and made some nasty racial remarks,” Millie explained. “I would have hit him myself if Aura hadn’t gotten there first.”

“What happened?”

“He sued but they settled out of court. He’s not working for GEM Co. anymore. But he’s the only one.”

Bridget still looked uncertain.

“Look, you may not believe it now but Aura would fight her way through a blizzard and a horde of Kartillions if she thought you needed help. She’d bitch about it but she’d do it.”

Laughing, Bridget raised an eyebrow, “That is a little hard to believe.”

“You’ll have to figure out how to handle the boss in your own way, but if you have a problem come to me first and I’ll do what I can, okay, hon?” Millie patted her on the back then picked up her cup of chili again.

“Thanks, Millie.” Bridget smiled then seemed to perk up, sitting up straight and folding her legs beneath her. “Say wouldn’t a bonfire be great?”

Millie yawned. “With everything so damp it might be hard to get it started,” she replied with another yawn.

“Well, I’m going to try.” Bridget got to her feet and walked over to talk to Zimbin.

Millie finished eating then stretched out on the tarp. Despite two Tridols, every muscle ached, and the scratch on her arm was irritating. She shifted onto her side and closed her eyes. Reopened them. Stop thinking about Neil Sanders, she told herself. Shifting to her other side, she saw Jak standing outside an envirodome trying to scrape dried mud off his uniform with a knife.

Jak saw her and gave her an exasperated look, pointing at the mud then at Millie.

Millie mouthed a kiss to him.

Sliding the knife back into his boot, Jak walked over and crouched down beside her.

Millie sat up, leaning back on one elbow. “Going to your date with Co-Lanen?”

“It’s not a date.”

Millie grinned. “I’m just teasing.”

Jak rolled his eyes. “I wanted to tell you that I saw Althan Tahk earlier today.”

“Oh? How’s his head?”

“I didn’t ask. Thought you should be warned that he’s planetside now.”

Millie shrugged. “He’s not so bad.”

“Mil! At the very least, he’s an assassin.”

“He’s sort of a nice assassin.”

“Millie!”

“Okay, okay,” Millie laughed. “I’ll be cautious. I would like to know what he and Renner Conlin are up to.”

“My advice? Stay away from both of them.”

Millie gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir. Oh, and good luck with Co-Lanen.”

Shaking his head, Jak stood up and walked away, heading for town.

Millie watched him walk down the hill then stretched out on the tarp again. If Tahk comes after me up here, he can have me. I’m too tired to move. That was her last thought before she drifted off to sleep.