CHAPTER EIGHT

For the Children

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Let’s review your report one more time.” S.O. Ndo was methodical, precise, and unaware I had a massive headache. A large, horrible instrument of torture pounded at the back of my skull, from the inside.

Barbiturates had that effect on me. Not even two scalding-hot servers of floral tea had helped.

Morning-afters. Universally to be avoided.

“Of course.” I carefully recounted everything I could remember from the moment I woke to find the mercenary Leo standing over my bed.

I was at the point of “Reever managed to disarm him, there was a flash of light, and then—” when Ndo interrupted.

“A flash of light? That was not in your report.” I frowned. I hadn’t put it in my report. The only lights I ever concerned myself with were medical optic scanners, and the ones that made it possible to walk around my quarters without banging into things.

“Sorry. Yes, there was a light or something that flashed, just for a moment. I thought it was from an internal scanner.” Even as I said that, I realized how silly it sounded. Jorenian scanners didn’t produce light. “I really didn't think about it.”

“Describe how it appeared to you.”

I concentrated. “Reever had linked with me to project a false image. The projection fooled the mercenary into believing we were inside the launch already. When he came back out, Reever took his rifle and stepped back.

Then there was this bright flash of…“ I halted. ”Not a flash. Something else.“ I shook my head, frustrated.

”Why can’t I remember?“

“It is understandable. You were under extreme duress.” Ndo appeared sympathetic, but I heard the same frustration in his tone.

“Why are you concerned about the light? Do you think it had anything to do with—” My eyes widened as I remembered. “Fasala saw some kind of light, too. Just before her accident in the cargo bay. A ring of light!”

“That is what you saw?”

“Yes! It wasn’t a flash, but a perfect circle.” I was excited as the image finally sifted to the top of my sluggish memory. “Large, perfectly circular, about two meters in diameter. White with a prismatic edge. It couldn’t have lasted more than a tenth of a second.”

“Two meters?” Ndo seized on that. “You’re certain of the dimensions?”

“Of course. Why?”

“The damage to the buffer was calculated to be the same area, given the amount of alloy recovered from the injured.”

“You’re kidding.” I sat back in my chair. “It could have been the same thing Fasala saw, then.” Ndo nodded as he keyed the information on his data pad.

I speculated out loud. “So what do we have on the ship that creates a two-meter circle of light, slices through adaptable sonic alloy, and dissolves living bone and tissue?”

“Nothing,” Ndo said as he continued entering the data.

While I waited, I went over the shift when Fasala had been brought in. Squilyp and I had argued over how to detect the buffer shards. Roelm had said something…

“The Engineer described equipment used to fit the buffers on ships. He said the technology was based on sound.”

“Harmonicutters.’

“Do you have any those laying around somewhere?” Ndo shook his head. “They are too large. The vessels they are used on must be docked in specially designed bays in a specific region on our homeworld.”

“There is no such thing as a portable harmonicutter?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

That wasn’t exactly a no. “How does a harmonicutter work?“ Ndo gave me a slightly exasperated look. ”Please, it’s important.“

“It produces continuous, high-intensity energy, Healer.

Rather like your surgical lasers, only a harmonicutter uses sound instead of light. Its sonic beam converts raw alloy material into the dimensions required on the particular vessel being fitted.”

“This sonic beam, is it composed entirely of sound waves?”

“Yes.”

In the past, extracorporeal shock-wave lithotripsy, or ultrasonic waves, had been used to break up kidney and upper ureteral stones on Terra. The primitive procedure often caused mild to moderate cellular damage at the entry and exit points.

This harmonicutter was obviously much more powerful. If used on a living being, would such focused sonic energy have a more lethal effect? It would explain the absence of any toxin and why their insides had been turned into liquid, too.

“Roelm and the mercenary could have been murdered using a sonic beam of that intensity,” I explained my theory to Ndo.

“A harmonicutter is not as focused as a laser, as the energy it generates is utilized on immense areas. A harmonicutter used as you describe would destroy everything within at least a ten-meter radius. You and Linguist Reever would not have survived.” Okay, so my theory had some holes in it.

“Tell me something. Who on board the Sunlace would know how to operate a harmonicutter?” He looked thoughtful. “Most of our engineers and senior helm staff. Roelm, of course. Xonea, Captain Pnor, and myself as well.”

No help there, that was about a hundred people. Too many to make a viable list of suspects. I pushed a tired hand through my hair.

“S.O., may I continue this discussion with you after I’ve had time to think about it?” I was feeling distinctly ridiculous, fighting off a continuous wave of yawns.

Surely I hadn't overdosed myself. Had I?

“Of course.” He rose and offered his hand as I struggled from my seat. “Are you feeling ill, Healer?”

“I’ve had better days, Ndo. Thank you for your patience.”

I trudged off to the gyrlift and took it up to my quarters. Dhreen was waiting for me just outside my door panel. He tried to talk me into a game of whump-ball. I yawned in his face.

“Too tired,” I waved my hand. “Later.”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact you and Reever aren’t speaking to each other? Again?” Dhreen's guileless eyes glinted.

“None of your business.” I barely had enough energy to key myself in. The door panel closed behind me. I was in trouble, I thought. My sluggish brain finally processed the fact that this was not a natural weariness.

Nothing could make me this tired. I’d been drugged again.

I reached up and hit the comm panel with an awkward swipe.

“Xonea…” I fell back and slid down the wall. “Alert…

Xon—”

He was hurting me again. The man with the hard hands, who relentlessly probed my body. I screamed and writhed until I thought my lungs would burst.

“Resistance test gamma-fourteen negative,” he said. “No signs of contagion.”

“Shall I prepare the next series, Doctor?” The dark blue eyes looked down at me. “Give me the nasal probe. I want to check the sinuses.”

“If she sounds snotty, it’s because she's been crying for an hour, Joseph!”

The woman pushed him out of the way and took me in her arms. She wrapped my naked body in something soft and warm while she glared at the man.

“Margaret, put her down.”

“You’re hurting her.”

“She will not remember any of this.”

“You hope she won’t.” The woman cradled me close, and my shrill screams died as I nuzzled instinctively at her breast. “When was the last time you fed her?”

“We must keep her stomach empty until the trial is complete.” The man made a curt sound.

“It will not harm her to go without nourishment for a twenty-four-hour period.”

“Give me a bottle.”

“Put her down and leave, Margaret.”

“And if I don’t?” she demanded. “What are you going to do, Joseph? Starve me, too?”

“Put her down!”

My body was wrenched from the woman’s arms, and I heard her scream blend with mine.

Take control of the dream, Cherijo.

Take control.

Take take take—

I was standing in a chamber, my breath burning in my chest. The presence hovered there in the depths of the shadows, just out of reach. I tried to take control, to leave that place.

“You think you can control me, little one? Me!” The laughter was chilling. “I could crush you with a thought.”

“Then do it.” I centered my consciousness and drew strength from the sense of power it gave me.

“Get it over with.”

“You know nothing of power. Watch and learn.”

Before my eyes a window appeared, one that displayed the level where I had just been interviewed by Ndo. He was still there, looking over my report, frowning and making notes on a touchpad.

“He resents his place in the succession, but would never reveal it to Pnor.”

“Leave him alone!”

“Look at him. Ever loyal, steadfast Ndo, who has yet to Choose, yet to make a child. He thinks he knows something, but his arrogance blocks insight.” The voice lowered, became almost gleeful. “Let me show him the true inner path.” I saw a ring of light form in mid-air behind the S. O. He jerked back, falling from his chair as the light shattered over his body.

“Stop it!” I shouted.

“It is done. Now he will know the emptiness I feel.”

I watched in horror as Ndo collapsed in convulsions. He was dead in minutes.

“You killed Roelm and that mercenary, didn’t you? You bastard!”

The presence turned on me. Smashed into my mind. I couldn’t shield myself from the pounding fists. The shrill voice shrieked disjointed accusations, punctuated by more blows.

“You let him… believed you… killed for you …” Another presence was there. Something vague, far beyond the battering hands. The other spoke to me.

Cherijo. Wake up. You must wake up.

“… make you wish… never born …” the first one was screaming. I couldn’t take much more. I reached out, desperate to escape.

Cherijo. Wake up. Wake up!

“Cherijo!”

Someone slapped me, hard.

“Wake up!”

I fell out of the dream, and found myself in a convulsive state. Pain clutched at me. I curled up in a fetal position, automatically trying to protect my injuries.

Literally every single inch of my flesh throbbed in agony.

My eyes fluttered open when six-fingered hands touched me.

Xonea rolled me onto my back. I was on the deck.

Then the world went black.

The next thing I knew the big pilot was running, carrying me in his arms. I fought to keep my eyes open.

“Ndo?” Strong hands kept me from getting loose.

“Ndo! He’s in trouble!”

“Be calm, Cherijo. You are injured.”

I fell unconscious again, and woke up on an exam table. The Senior Healer was leaning over me.

“Tonetka? Ndo!” I tried to hurl myself off the table.

Xonea’s face appeared on the other side. Now his hands held me down. “I have to—”

“Remain still, Healer.” Tonetka opened my tunic and performed a brisk, thorough examination. Xonea averted his eyes, while I glanced down. Saw more bruises forming on my pale skin. A lot more.

“Tonetka.” She met my gaze. “What the hell happened?”

“You were beaten,” Xonea said, his voice low and filled with dangerous menace. Now he looked, memorizing each mark.

I sagged back on the exam pad. “Then it’s too late.”

“Too late?” Tonetka echoed.

“Ndo. He’s dead. Whoever did this killed him.” I was confined to a berth in Medical Bay. Again.

“Anaphylactoid purpura,” Tonetka said a day later.

“Severe ecchymoses and petechiae. Three reasons you will stay in that berth, Healer, until I advise you differently.”

“We’ve done this before, remember?” I said. “I won last time.”

She clutched a scanner and passed it over me. “The last time you were my patient, you did not have ruptured blood vessels over virtually every centimeter of your epidermis!”

“No, I had a stroke and two heart attacks. That was a lot worse than a couple of bruises.”

Tonetka muttered something that the nurse next to her overheard. The younger Jorenian woman’s eyes rounded.

“Senior Healer!”

“She’ll never do it,” I told the nurse. “And if she tries, I'll thump her.”

“I would be greatly entertained by such an attempt!” Tonetka said.

A resident came over, brave enough to enter the fray.

“Senior Healer. Healer Cherijo. You are disturbing the other patients.”

“See?” I glared at her. “You’re disturbing the other patients. Now give me my clothes, so I can get up and strangle you myself.”

“I should have induced a coma!” Tonetka said. Was that gesture she made a nonverbal obscenity? “Divert your path with your Terran stupidity. I will dance at your death ceremony.” She stalked off to her next patient.

The news confirming Ndo’s death had left both Tonetka and me with frayed tempers, I thought, and sighed.

“Pig-headed old witch.” I shrugged at the wide-eyed nurse. “What’s worse is she's probably right.” Later, one of the residents offered me an analgesic for my bruises, but I refused. My mind was muddled enough.

I didn’t want to take a chance and slip into another unprotected sleep.

The next time I might not wake up.

The crew heard, of course, and many stopped by to visit me. The Senior Healer spent more time that day chasing HouseClan Torin out of Medical than she did examining the patients. The only thing I was allowed to receive was a package.

“What’s this?” I turned the slim box over in my hands.

“Our passenger from Garnot sent it for you,” the Senior Healer said. “Dhreen related the nature of your injuries to him, and he wished you to have this.” I opened the lid, and removed a thin, golden cuff.

“Wow. Nice bauble.”

“One he claims will heal the body and soothe the soul.”

“If it does, you’ll be out of a job,” I said, admiring the pretty thing. I slipped it over my hand, but it was a little too big for my wrist.

“Traders will say anything to peddle their wares,” Tonetka said as she examined me, then instructed one of the residents to cover the ward until the Omorr reported for his shift.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I have a class today with the primary students.” Tonetka often scheduled time to teach the Jorenian children. She was an expert in a number of subjects, including (of course) journey philosophy. She held up an old, wicked-looking blade. “Today I am presenting facts for the children about prehistoric medical practices and instruments.”

“Ugh. That looks sharp. I wouldn’t pass it around.

Here.” I removed the bracelet and placed it around her wrist. “You like? You wear. It doesn't fit me, and I'll just lose it or something.”

Once Tonetka had departed, I managed to talk one of the nurses into procuring a terminal for my use by making a solemn and soon-to-be-broken promise to access it for no more than an hour or two.

“The Senior Healer will be most upset if she finds you at work when she returns,” the nurse said. “Then you will begin insulting each other and disrupting the ward—again.”

“Don’t worry.” I winked at her. “I'll take all the blame and the insults.”

I retrieved all pertinent records pertaining to Fasala’s injuries, the mercenary attack, and the deaths of Roelm, the Terran Leo, and Ndo.

The facts would begin to correlate, I thought, if I kept shuffling them around. Roelm, Leo, and Ndo had each died of identical symptoms from as of yet unidentified causes. Fasala and the two educators had been injured, not killed. The only thing the dead victims had in common was that they were male. Fasala and the educators weren’t, and their wounds were completely different, too.

I was comparing medical histories when Xonea appeared and sat down beside my berth.

“Healer, you are looking well.”

“I thought Jorenians didn’t lie.” I looked terrible, and he knew it. “Any progress?”

“The Captain has discovered no evidence connecting the attack on you and Ndo’s death,” he said, and glanced at the data on my terminal. “You are comparing medical charts?”

“I had hoped to find some similarity in their profiles.” I removed the charts on Fasala and the two educators and concentrated on the dead men. “Roelm and Ndo were Jorenian, approximately the same age. Yet Roelm was much heavier than Ndo. The Terran mercenary was older than both, but weighed much less. They were killed in different parts of the ship. Roelm and Leo were surrounded by different people. Ndo died alone. He was murdered at his Command display, wasn’t he?”

“Hado found his body exactly where you said it would be,” Xonea said. Absently, he rubbed one hand across his abdomen. “Do you recall anything else?”

“Only that I have no idea why I wasn’t killed, too.” I switched off the terminal and put my head back. “Tonetka believes whatever killed the men couldn't have caused my injuries.” Xonea was staring oddly at me. Again. “What?”

“It has been suggested that your injuries prove you were involved with Ndo’s murder,” he said. “That Ndo inflicted them upon you in self-defense.”

“Just who is spewing this waste?” I demanded.

“Captain Pnor will not say. There is more I may do to prove your innocence, with your… cooperation.” I’d heard this kind of proposal before. Last time it got me engaged. “Define cooperation.”

“The one who assaulted you will try again. Allow me to guard you.”

“Guard me?” An image of Xonea dogging my heels made me frown. “I don’t see you following me around all day.”

“You can be monitored while you are on duty. I will watch over you by sharing your quarters.”

“You mean, move in with me? I thought you needed to bond with someone for that.”

“Full bonding is not required. It is the only way I can protect you.”

I sat up straight again. “I told you before, I don’t need a baby-sitter.”

That didn’t make him happy. “You must do this, Cherijo.” He stood. “You are my Chosen.” There was nothing that equaled Jorenian arrogance.

Except me. “That doesn’t make me your property, fly boy.”

“Under HouseClan law, you must obey me.” I’d never heard that before. “Space your HouseClan law!” I slammed my hand onto the terminal keypad, scrambling the data.

“It is our path, Cherijo,” he said, then grimaced and pressed his hand against his stomach again.

“Your path is giving me a headache, and you an ulcer!” Before Xonea could reply, an explosion rocked the Sunlace. This one was much more violent than the tremors caused by the mercenary attack. I was flung from my berth onto the floor. Xonea covered me with his body.

His massive weight forced the breath out of my lungs.

“Alert,” the display panel announced. “Hull breach on levels five, six, eighteen, and twenty-eight. Internal buffers compromised. Levels will be secured. Evacuation must commence.”

“The League must have tracked us from Garnot.” Xonea pulled me up with him.

I stripped the monitor ports from my arms and called for the staff. Everyone in Medical mobilized around us.

“I want all senior residents to stay put,” I said.

“Squilyp, you’re in charge.” The Omorr nodded. “Set up for heavy casualties. You four emergency teams, take the gyrlifts to the nearest level you can get to the compromised areas. Xonea, which level has the greatest concentration of crew members?“

“Level six. The sub-executive bays and educational facilities are located there.”

“No.” I paled. “Tonetka. The kids.” After dividing up the teams, we grabbed our emergency packs and raced out. More turbulence rocked the ship. I stumbled several times along to the way to the level above Medical. Xonea always managed to grab me before I hit the deck.

Xonea and I entered level six ahead of the team. Heat and a sudden, dense cloud of noxious smoke enveloped us. From the emergency kit I carried I pulled out two breathers and handed one to Xonea. I looked over my shoulder to assure the nurses were masking as well.

“Keep your hand on my arm!” Xonea’s voice was muffled by the mask. I nodded and grabbed onto his sleeve. He led me through the blinding fumes to the first of the children's classrooms. The door panel was jammed.

When Xonea started to force it open, a burst of flames made him snatch his hands away.

“Look!” I shouted, pointing through the open gap.

Over the fiery wall we saw a group of small bodies huddled in a tight mound. Two educators were shielding the children from the fire with their own bodies. One of them was Ktarka Torin.

Evacuation units kicked in at last. They removed enough smoke from the level corridor to let us take off our breathers.

“Emergency controls are operational,” Xonea said. He keyed the exterior deck panel. I wiped the filthy sweat from my face on my sleeve and saw a square aperture open in the upper deck just inside the classroom door panel. “This will extinguish the flames.” Thick streams of chemical foam cascaded from the slot. It worked—the flames were smothered at once. That left smoke, which was as deadly as fire.

“We’ve got to clear the air,” I told him.

“I am purging the room through the exchange dampers,” he said as he rewired the panel controls. I didn’t wait to watch him, but strapped on my breather.

After I grabbed my pack, I kicked aside some smoldering debris, and stepped inside.

The children had to be checked first. All of them were coughing heavily. I handed out breathers as I made a quick scan of each child for lung damage and burns. The educators were calm and kept reassuring the children. I would have never guessed both women had second-degree burns on their backs, a fact I discovered right after I’d dealt with the kids.

Ktarka’s eyes were still filled with panic as she tried to hold the singed shreds of her tunic over her breasts. I patted the part of her shoulder that wasn't injured as I passed my scanner over her.

“Hold on, lady,” I said. She gave me a confused stare.

Shock was starting to set in. “You’ll be just fine.” One of the nurses appeared beside me, a syrinpress in her hand. I injected Ktarka with pentazalcine and helped the nurse get the educator to her feet.

“Healer—” Ktarka began, then coughed violently.

We both stumbled against each other when the Sunlace’s hull was battered with a fresh wave of displacer fire. The nurse supported Ktarka from the opposite side as she sagged. It took a few minutes to maneuver her limp body out the door panel and gently down on the deck.

We went back for the other educator and the kids.

Once the classroom was evacuated, I turned to the nurse.

“Have the women taken to Medical.” I pointed to the children who were in respiratory distress. “These four, too.” I went to the only functional corridor display, and routed a signal to Medical.

Squilyp’s face appeared. Behind him, I saw the staff trotting in different directions. “Doctor?” The ship rocked wildly again. I grabbed the sides of the console and held on. “I’m sending you two adults, both with second-degree burns. Four kids on oxygen. Gyrlifts are down, so they'll be on gurneys. Check everyone for inhalation exposure and toxins. Set up for more burn patients.” I felt the transitional thrusters many decks below throb into life. “What's your status?”

“The ward is full. Three serious, one critical. I’m prepping for surgery.” The Omorr looked over his shoulder and yelled at a nurse, “Move those low priorities out in the corridor!“ He looked back at me. ”Adaola is taking triage—“

“Caution,” the display interrupted. “Emergency transition.”

“Get those patients prepped. Don’t be exemplary today, Squil,” I said. “Be quick. Go!” He nodded, and I terminated the signal.

“Cherijo?”

At Xonea’s call, I left the nurse to take care of the patients. The rest of the classrooms we could access were empty, he told me when I caught up with him. The Jorenian stood before an insurmountable pile of rubble blocking off the corridor leading up to level five.

Transition into another dimension began without warning. Once reality untwisted, I found myself on the deck, sprawled next to Xonea. I rubbed a hand over the new bruises on my hip.

“Nothing I love more than emergency transition in the morning,” I said.

“Launch bay has been destroyed,” Xonea told me as he helped me up. He nearly doubled over before he propped himself against one wall panel.

“What is it? Are you hurt?”

“No, I am just winded. Here.” In his hand was a scanner. The display showed a concentration of some fifty life-forms behind the blockage.

“Can you raise anyone on level five?”

“No response. We must find a way through this. Heat levels are rising on the other side of the obstruction.” I knew the gyrlift was useless. “What about the emergency controls?”

“The panel has been badly damaged.”

I spotted a gap in the debris level with the upper deck.

It was too small for Xonea. One skinny human might make it, though.

“Can you lift me up there?” I pointed.

He shook his head. “It is too dangerous.”

“Then I’ll climb.”

“You cannot do this. Cherijo!” He took my arm to hold me back.

“Let me go,” I said, and shook myself loose. Both our faces were coated with blackened sweat. Every bruise on my body throbbed. The stench from the lingering fumes made me dizzy, so I kept my breathing light and shallow.

Then I saw a group of crew members entering the corridor. They were wearing envirosuits.

“You!” I yelled at the smallest one, and waved him over. “Take that off and give it to me.” As the crew member obligingly stripped out of the suit, Xonea fumed.

“This is madness!”

“You can try and stop me.” I tugged the oxygen unit from the back of suit. There was no way I could fit through the gap with it on, and even if I did, the fire would probably cause it to explode. With no air supply, I’d have to make it a quick climb. “Or you could work on what's left of the emergency controls while I climb over through there.”

His mouth was a hard, colorless line. “Your hands will be burned.”

I discarded the gloves—they were so big I’d never get a handhold while wearing them—and fastened the over-large suit as tightly as possible. “Don't worry, I'll live.”

“What about oxygen?”

“I’ll hold my breath.”

He yanked me into his arms, and held me for a moment. My face barely reached the lower vault of his chest.

“Come back to me, Cherijo,” he said.

I nodded, then donned the head covering. At my thumbs-up, big hands encircled my waist, and Xonea lifted me over his head. Wish I had that kind of strength.

Surly patients would no longer be a problem.

I thrust my body forward into the gap. The skin on my fingers and palms split as I grabbed torn metal.

“Ahhh!”

As my body fell against the rubble, hot spots seared through the suit, burning me. I clenched my teeth against another cry. Had to keep moving. I ducked my head in and bent my elbows, my shoulders scraping the sides of the gap. I heard a ripping sound, and felt the back of the suit tear from my neck to my waist. So much for the envirosuit. With a grunt, I hoisted myself through.

Smoke. Flames. The stench of destruction. The sound of children crying made me claw my way forward.

Something hot and jagged pierced the suit and stabbed my right thigh. I jerked my leg away, felt the blood pulsing from the wound. Artery?

“Help us!” a familiar voice shouted.

I squinted and tried to see where they were. Black, billowing smoke made the air into a thick fog. Above me, ruined deck plates had burst, spilling deadly lengths of live, writhing component wiring. All around me crimson and orange flames crackled and flared, creating a deadly barrier. One I had to get through. Now.

There. Fifty yards away, Tonetka was herding the children back from the danger zone. Painfully I crawled down the steep debris pile, until a solid wall of flame barred my path.

“Go back!” Tonetka shouted.

After ruining a perfectly good envirosuit? Not a chance.

I tucked my hands under my arms, curled up, and pushed myself into a tumbling roll. Incredible heat burned through the suit and seared my flesh as I hurtled through the fire.

When I landed on the deck below, my suit was burning. The children screamed in terror. Tonetka quickly beat out the flames and pulled the smoldering material from my body.

“Your path could have been diverted!” the Senior Healer shouted as she yanked me to my feet.

I coughed convulsively. “You okay?” I asked, when I could breathe again.

The children were in good shape. Some had minor burns, but the majority were simply scared. My boss hadn’t fared as well. Tonetka was covered with lacerations. Dust greyed her hair, and her usually immaculate tunic was a tattered rag. She'd torn up most of it to bind the children's wounds. Dark splotches marred the smooth blue skin of her face.

“What happened to you?” I demanded.

“The corridor panels collapsed on me.” She pointed back to the debris pile. “The children were able to pull me out before the fire started.”

I turned my head, trying to locate a way out. Then I saw it, and gasped. “Mother of All Houses.” Behind the Senior Healer, an entire section of the hull had been blown out into space. The invisible buffer was all that stood between us and the killing vacuum.

“We have to get them back through that gap.” I pointed where I had come from. Tonetka was already busy binding my leg with a strip of her tunic. She straightened to gauge the opening. At the same time, a disjointed com signal announced that the section buffer field was weakening. As if we needed more problems. “Let’s get the flames out first.”

Tonetka shook her head. “The extinguishing equipment won’t work. I have tried manual override, but the backup panel malfunctioned.”

I looked around for something we could use. I spied the classroom equipment. “That,” I pointed to a large plastic tub.

“It is too small, and will melt,” Tonetka said.

I nudged the lid up and pushed it aside, revealing the hundred pounds of clean, sterile sand inside. I knew it would be there. After all, I was the one who had explained the Terran concept of a sandbox to these kids.

“We can pour it on the flames,” I said. “It will extinguish even the chemical fires. Get some of the bigger students to help us.”

We passed out containers to the older children and formed a Terran bucket brigade. Tonetka and I took up positions by the fires. The kids passed full containers of sand down to us. We emptied them on the flames and passed them back. In a few minutes, all that was left was smoldering components and a heap of sand-covered debris.

“That’s it,” I said. “Let's get them out of here!” Tonetka nodded, and gestured to the children. “Listen carefully now. Wrap your hands with strips of your clothing. Do not touch anything for very long. Move as quickly as you can.”

She tried to examine my ruined hands, but I yanked them away.

“Later. We’ve got to move, now.” I turned toward the opening and shouted, “Xonea! We’re sending the kids through! Get ready!”

“Ready!” a distant, muffled voice called back.

It took both of us to boost each child up to the gap. As their weight fell against my burned, broken hands, I said some words I hoped the kids would forget. We kept hoisting them up. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Finally we pushed the last child through.

I turned to Tonetka. “Let’s see how well you can climb, old woman.”

She eyed the gap. “Piece of bread.”

“Cake. Piece of cake.” It hurt to laugh. “Wait till you get to the top. Come on, let’s go.”

“You must go first, Cherijo.”

“Age before beauty.”

“You won’t be able to climb with your hands. I will have to lift you.”

I looked down. So much for my surgical career.

“You’d better not drop me.”

Tonetka cradled my face with her hands, and gazed into my eyes. “I bless the Mother for the day you became our ClanDaughter.” She even kissed my forehead.

I scowled up at her. “Yeah, I honor you, too, you stubborn old battle-axe. Now give me a boost.” I was the same size and weight as most of the kids, but Tonetka had to push me up by herself. With a string of curses my vocollar ignored, she thrust me up to the gap.

Large hands were waiting to pull me through—Xonea’s and Hado's. I made it without bruising my already abused body too much. Xonea saw my hands and leg, and cursed. As soon as my feet touched the lower deck, I turned and called out to Tonetka.

“Come on, Senior Healer!”

Hado put a hand on my shoulder. “Healer Cherijo. You must come away from this area, now.”

A strange sound and subsequent vibration shuddered through the level. Had the mercenaries somehow followed us? The huge pile of rubble shifted, as if it was sliding over, away from us.

It was collapsing. On top of the Senior Healer.

“Tonetka!” I screamed, but Xonea was helping Hado pull me away. “Hurry—we’ve got to—” My hands wouldn't work right, I couldn't get them off me. “What are you doing? Help her!”

Hado looked at the opening with a sad expression.

“She cannot fit through the gap.”

“I’ll make her fit!”

“Cherijo!” Xonea shook me. “You must see to the children!”

Small cries of pain finally penetrated my fury. I grabbed the front of my Chosen’s tunic as best I could, and thrust my face close to his. “Listen! I don’t care how you do it, get her out of there!”

Xonea nodded. I let go. He went back to working on the panel with Hado.

One of the nurses sprayed my wounds with skinseal, against what she told me was her better judgment. I ignored her. I gloved while I bit back a shriek of pain, then went to treat the wounded. Four entire classes of children had been rescued. Most were suffering from shock, minor burns, and smoke inhalation.

More injured were brought out from a collapsed section. They were educators who had been in a planning session when the attack occurred. Two were dead. Three more died on the deck as we tried to keep them breathing.

Their bodies weren’t just burned, they were charred.

Crew members from all over the ship assisted in removing the critical cases on litters. When those ran out, the injured were simply carried off in strong Jorenian arms. I had just stabilized one of the children for the move when an ominous rumble shook the deck. The sound of tearing alloys ripped through the air. I glanced toward the obstruction, saw it shaking, and ran.

“Tonetka!”

Xonea and Hado stood a few feet from the pile of rubble, still fiddling with the emergency controls.

“Get her out of there!” I screamed at them.

“We cannot. The buffers are too weak.” Xonea caught my arms. “They have already begun to reform. She has chosen her path!”

“The hell she has!”

Another vibration shook the level, then the rubble collapsed and disappeared out into space. All that was left was a huge, empty hole.

“No!” I shoved Xonea away from me and ran up to the buffer. Debris floated just beyond the gap in the hull. I pounded on the invisible wall, making my gloves split, leaving bloody splotches hanging in mid-air.

A strong arm hauled me away. “She is gone, Cherijo.”

“No!” I looked over at the navigator, who was closing the access panel. He shook his head. I wrenched myself around until I faced Xonea. “Why didn’t you get her out?”

“I tried.” He lifted his hand toward my face.

“Don’t touch me!” I pushed him away.

Hado spoke up then. “She begins a new journey, Healer.”

That made me snarl, “Oh, shut up!”

The navigator inclined his head. “I regret your pain.”

“And you.” I turned on Xonea and thumped a bloody fist against his broad chest. “You’ll just plan another big party, won't you?” Snarling had become ranting. I didn't care. “Maybe her body will get pulled into a star, and you can save yourself a grass shroud!”

“Doc.” Dhreen put himself between us. His spoon-shaped fingers settled on my shoulders. Troubled amber eyes peered into mine. “Don’t do this.” I pushed Dhreen to one side, and advanced on Xonea.

Once I got close enough, I pulled back my arm, and let it fly. My shredded glove made the slap sound louder than it was. My bloody handprint glowed against his blue face.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” I said. “Never.” Then I walked away.