Shockball (2 page)

My adopted family, HouseClan Torin, manned the Jorenian star vessel
Sunlace
. My adopted big brother, Xonea Torin, had been adamant about escorting us during the mission. Once that was over, they’d probably go exploring the galaxy again.

I wasn’t sure if we’d tag along. League mercenaries were still hunting me, and rumor had it the Hsktskt Faction had recently put out their own bounty on me.

That thought made me look at the third ship in our little fleet—the
Truman
. My creator, Joseph Grey Veil, had sent the unarmed, drone-piloted League vessel from Terra as a gift for me—some sort of gesture of truce or something. Reever and the Jorenians had thoroughly checked it out before towing it along with us. Personally I’d never liked Joe’s present, and regularly expressed my desire to see someone blow it to smithereens.

Reever was more practical.
We may need to make use of it, Cherijo
.

I cleared the screen and accessed a new file I’d been working on since we’d escaped the Hsktskt. Being pregnant made me realize how important it was for me to record the facts behind the strange twists my life had taken over the last three years.

I want you to know the truth, lump
. I spread my hand over my still-flat abdomen.
You wouldn’t be able to hear the whole story from anyone else but me
.

I scanned through the entries I’d already made about what had happened from the day I’d left Terra. The file headers read like ads for one of the space operas so popular on my homeworld.

Promising thoracic surgeon discovers she’s a genetically enhanced human clone.

Clone escapes brilliant but insane scientist creator.

Insane creator pursues runaway clone across the galaxy.

I’d spent my first year of independence as a trauma physician on Kevarzangia Two, treating nonhumans. My love affair with an alien pilot named Kao Torin had collided with a race to cure a mysterious plague. The fight for my own freedom came soon after, when my creator Joseph Grey Veil had tried to reclaim me as property. HouseClan Torin had come to the rescue, just in time for me to watch Kao die in my arms. Worse, I’d killed him with a transfusion of my own poisonous blood.

I closed my eyes for a moment.
Kao, I hope you forgive me for what I did. Maybe someday I can do the same
.

The next entries covered the year I’d served as Senior Healer on the
Sunlace
. Where I still might be, if not for a demented killer and the Allied League of Worlds. We’d caught the killer, but the League had cornered us on Joren. The Hsktskt had arrived on the scene to make things even more interesting.

I’d been oblivious to everything but saving Joren, which meant betraying the League to the Hsktskt. Finding out my own husband was a Hsktskt collaborator had shattered our marriage.

Being a slave doctor had been about as much fun. So had enduring torture, and discovering some of the guards were actually eating the prisoners alive. Healing and befriending a disfigured female Hsktskt guard had nearly salvaged my sanity. Until she’d sacrificed her life to protect me.

We’re almost done with this mission
, I wrote in my new file.
Still I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to atone for my mistakes
.

“As will I.”

I jumped and swore. Reever had gotten out of bed and presently stood directly behind me. His warm palms slid over my shoulders as I frowned up at him.

“You scared me. Cough or something next time.”

“I apologize. What are you working on?”

“A journal file.” I felt my cheeks burn. “It’s for the baby. What’s this ‘as will I’ business?”

“You are not the only one with regrets, Cherijo.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were great—putting your life on the line, pretending to work for the Hsktskt while you were smuggling slaves off Catopsa,” I said. “What have you got to feel bad about? Even the Jorenians forgave you, and you know how they feel about revenge.”

He reached over, saved the entry, and deactivated the console before swinging my chair around. “Why don’t you write about your own victories?”

“I am.”

“Did you enter the data about the thousands of lives on K-2 and millions on Joren that you saved?”

I shook my head. “That was pure luck.”

He took my hairbrush from the vanity unit and started untangling my hair. He liked doing that. “Luck had nothing to do with the destruction of the slave depot on Catopsa.”

“That was luck and a working relationship with a sentient crystal,” I pointed out, enjoying the soothing sensations the long, slow strokes through my hair sent over my scalp and down my spine.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Sure. I can just skip the part about how I killed Kao, and all the Torins who died in mercenary attacks on the
Sunlace
, and the League prisoners who fought the Hsktskt after I turned their ships over to the Faction.” And then there was the baby. “Piece of cake.”

“The streak in your hair looks a little wider.” He traced the silver slash that started just above my right temple with his finger. “You have been devoting too many hours in Medical.”

“You won’t let me learn how to calibrate the engines.” If I sat there much longer, I was going to melt all over the chair. I got up. “We’ve arrived at Te Abanor.”

“I know.”

He always knew. Reever took the job of running the
Perpetua
very seriously. I was lucky if I remembered what shift it was. “Where are we heading once we’ve finished this mission?”

“We will find a new world to settle on. A place where we can raise our children and live without fear.”

Considering how widespread the League and Hsktskt Faction territories were, that wasn’t going to be soon. Or easy. I’d avoid thinking about the other problems for now. One migraine at a time. “This Eden is located where? On the other side of the universe?”

“We will not have to travel that far.” Duncan picked me up and carried me back to the platform. Like Kao, he enjoyed carrying me around. It must be a guy thing. “You need to get some rest.”

“We were going to fight over names tonight, remember?”

He stretched out beside me and held me against him. “You did not like the last suggestions I made.”

I could feel his heartbeat against my cheek. “You suggested Ggddkktt or J-byn.” I shuddered. “Why can’t you pick out something with vowels in it?”

“Very well, what do you think of—” he made a low, whistling sound—“for a female, or”—he made something that sounded suspiciously like a suppressed belch—“for a male?”

“I liked Ggddkktt and J-byn better. And I hate them.” I thought about the list of baby names I’d pulled from the computer earlier. “How about Dian-the? Or Daniel?”

“Dian-tha means filthy water in Habarroo. Daniel is a command to jump high in the air while screaming on Andorrii.”

I propped myself up with one arm. “Do they really mean that, or are you just making that up?”

“I will access the linguistic database, if you like.”

“Hmmm.” I eyed him. “What does ‘Cherijo’ mean?”

“It means nothing in any of the languages I know. I think that is why I was initially drawn to you.”

My name came from an acronym for Comprehensive Human Enhancement Research I.D. “J” Organism—the title of the experiment that had resulted in my creation. However, Reever knew a lot of languages. I wondered if he was telling me the truth, or Cherijo meant something like “pond scum” in Trytinorn.

“How about Duncan? What does that mean?”

“In Terran Gaelic, it means dark warrior. In Svgan, burning spear. In Loracian, ice crystal. In—

“Okay, okay.” I ran my fingers through his shaggy blond hair. “
Dark
warrior, huh?”

“My coloring was not a consideration at the time my parents named me.” He stroked the small of my back. “Have you confirmed the gender of our child yet?”

He knew I’d been having tests, but I’d passed them off as the usual prenatal exams. “No. I don’t want to know. That’s like opening Christmas presents in July.” I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe now was a good time. “Duncan?”

He was rubbing my stomach again. “Hmmmm?”

“I need you to know, I…”

“Look.” He pressed my hand under his. “Can you feel the curve there? The child is growing.”

There would never be a good time.

I lifted my head as something crawled over my foot. Saved by Reever’s ambulatory pet mold. “I really wish you’d keep your Lok-Teel out of the bedroom.”

He reached down and gently removed the undulating blob from my leg, then set it on the deck. He’d brought a couple of them from the slave depot on Catopsa, where he’d used their ability to take on any form to conceal his features. The moving mold had since happily adapted to life on board the ship, reproduced and were now all over the plact. The Lok-Teel oozed off to clean something else, while Reever brushed my hair back from my face.

“Better?”

“Yes.” He was always fooling with my hair. “I have an idea. I’ll name the baby if it’s a boy, and you name it if it’s a girl. You have to use vowels and consonants.”

“I agree. What is your choice?”

“Michael. Yours?” He told me, and I smiled. “Hey, that’s not bad. I sort of like it.”

“Go to sleep now, Cherijo.”

I slept, but the nightmares returned. This time I didn’t dream of losing Reever, but of a disaster so ominous that it destroyed everything I loved.

“I want you to report over here before you go on this sojourn,” Squilyp said.

My former surgical resident, now a full-fledged doctor and currently the Senior Healer in charge of Medical on board the
Sunlace
, looked very annoyed. Squilyp was an Omorr, so he did that very well.

“I’m busy.”

The white, meter-long gildrells around his oral membrane went into icicle-mode. They made him look like he was wearing a starched beard. “You’re being irresponsible.”

“Oh, like you’d know.”

“Doctor.”

Okay, so he was mad. He’d get over it. “This trip will only take a few hours. We can run the final series when I get back.”

He thumped down the chart he’d been holding in the spade-shaped membranes that served as his hands. “Shall I consult with Captain Reever for his opinion on this matter?”

Now
I
got mad. “You say one word about this to him, and I’ll tie a big knot in your face.”

He sighed. “Cherijo, I know you are avoiding a decision, but you cannot continue to conceal this from your mate. He has the right to know what is happening, and what you propose to do about it.”

“Yeah, I know. I know.” I felt the beginnings of a tension headache start tapping inside my temples. “Just, give me a couple more days, okay? When I’m done with this sojourn, I’ll have Reever bring me directly up to the
Sunlace
. Then you can run as many tests as you like.” And I could finally figure out what to do, and how to tell Duncan.

“I don’t know why I argue with you,” he said. “I always lose.”

“You’re nothing but a big softie.” He was anything
but
. I smiled. “Thanks, Squid Lips.”

With an impatient gesture, he ended the signal.

I sat back in my chair, and read over the chart in my hands again. Trace bilirubin levels—leftovers from blood cell destruction—appeared in the latest sample. The antibodies had crossed the breach and were attacking.

“Cherijo?”

Alunthri appeared in the doorway. Like me, the feline Chakacat had been condemned as a nonsentient life form—in its case, from birth. We’d met on K-2, where its owner had subsequently died from the Core plague. I’d freed Alunthri from domestic slavery, and Reever had done the same when the Chakacat had tried to immigrate to another world run by slavers. It was the gentlest creature I’d ever known.

“Hey, pal.” I cleared the console screen. “Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“My studies keep me preoccupied.” It smiled, baring glittering small fangs. Alunthri was obsessed with all forms of art, and recently had been working on some kind of multispecies thesis. “You are going on the sojourn to Te Abanor?”

“Can’t get out of it.” Couldn’t wait to go was more like it, but I wasn’t going to dump my problems on the Chakacat.

“I wish I could join you, but I am still working on data I collected from the last world we visited.” It cocked its bullet-shaped head to one side, making light shimmer across its silvery pelt. “Would you mind recording any examples of cultural self-expression for me?”

“No problem.” It took a minute before I realized it was waiting and added, “Vid and audio okay?”

“Yes, thank you,” Its colorless eyes met mine, and its pointed ears flickered. “Cherijo, is everything well? You seem rather preoccupied yourself.”

“Just thinking about the sojourn,” I lied.

Alunthri seemed to accept that answer, for it thanked me again, and then departed.

I hadn’t been thinking about the sojourn. I was thinking about my husband. I had two, maybe three days at the most before we had to act. That meant I had to tell Duncan today. Not exactly something we could chat about on the way down to the planet.

Later
. I loved that word.
I’ll do it later
. I grabbed my pack and headed for the launch bay.

The sojourn to Te Abanor required us to take one of the
Perpetua
’s shuttles down. Reever, who unlike me was perfectly at ease with any sort of tech, manned the helm himself.

I strapped myself in behind him and looked over his shoulder. “Are we there yet?”

“No.” He gave me a bland look. “Would you prefer to pilot the mission?”

“Please. I’d like to get there in one piece.” Back during my time as Senior Healer on board the
Sunlace
, I’d barely passed the mandatory pilot training all crew members were required to take. I was good with living things, medical tech, prep units, and that was about it. “How’s the atmosphere look?”

“We shouldn’t encounter much turbulence. How is your stomach?”

“Okay, for now.” I had a container stowed under my seat, in case that changed.