The Travels of Scout Shannon: Books 4-6

Chapter 11

11

Scout had only made it through half of the food that Sparrow had piled up on her plate before Caleb returned, hands still folded together as he indicated with his head they should follow him. He had to make the gesture; Scout wasn’t sure what the bright green liquid everyone was drinking was, but the smugglers around them were talking louder and louder, their cheeks flushing even as they poured themselves a fourth or fifth measure of the stuff.

Geeta, having barely touched her food, leapt to her feet to follow Caleb. Emilie split one of the rolls and stuffed it with the rest of her meat before following after.

Scout caught the dogs’ leashes to lead them out of the dining hall, but Shadow only took one limping step before sitting down with a soft whine.

Nothing was broken, but he was definitely hurt. Scout picked him up, putting out a knee to keep a jealous Gert from jumping up and nipping at his back legs.

“Do you want me to help with her?” Sparrow asked, her eyes shining.

“Can you?” Scout asked. “Are you familiar with dogs?”

“No,” Sparrow admitted. “If I hold this end, she’ll just come along?”

“If she wants to,” Scout said, but of course as soon as she started walking out of the room, Gert rushed to follow, almost managing to rip the leash from Sparrow’s hands. But the girl quickly recovered, falling into a trot beside the dog.

Caleb led them through a labyrinth of metallic tunnels, and Scout reminded herself that when she had the chance to ask all her questions, how they had fashioned this ship would definitely have to be one of them. Not that she thought she could understand the answer, but Emilie would be able to explain it to her.

The last corridor opened out onto a vast open space like the marketplace in the last station they had been in, except it was more than twice the size and full of life. Instead of displaying the uniformity of white building components, this marketplace had been designed by whatever this ragtag group of smugglers and black marketers had at hand, nearly as wide ranging as the goods they were selling. It far exceeded what the black market on Amatheon Orbiter 1 had had on offer, not just in number but in variety.

Caleb kept looking back to be sure they were still following him, perhaps nervous they would get swept up in the throng or distracted by something in one of the shops. Emilie nearly did, stuffing the last of her makeshift sandwich in her mouth to run her hands over a supple, glistening sheet of some strange plasticky material that displayed continually updating streams of data. Scout had no idea what the point of that could be, but it took a hard nudge to bring Emilie out of her reverie, and then they both had to jog to catch up.

Geeta didn’t seem to notice any of it. Her eyes were only scanning directly in front of her, more focused on seeing any sign of the hospital even than being sure she didn’t collide with other pedestrians or with the jutting counters of the stall-like shops.

Caleb ducked down a side street between a café serving baked goods and coffee and a smaller shop filled with brightly colored clothing. Then they were back in a narrow, featureless hallway. This one had a much lower ceiling than the ones around the audience chamber had, and the light reflecting off that closer ceiling filled the corridor with light almost too intensely.

“Sanitizers,” Caleb said, although none of them had asked. “For the safety of the patients. Otherwise, of course, you wouldn’t be able to bring dogs in here.”

“My dog is hurt,” Scout said.

Caleb looked back at her and Shadow in her arms. “I am sorry. Yes, of course, we’ll tend to him as well. But let’s see Seeta first, yes?”

He smiled at them each in turn and then continued down the bright hallway. He was walking more slowly here; perhaps the sanitization needed time to work.

Scout closed her eyes and tried to sense whatever was happening, but she didn’t feel a thing, not so much as a tingle. Well, she would have to take his word for it that something was happening. Why would he lie?

At the end of the hallway was a small, round room completely dominated by a large, curving desk. No one was sitting behind that desk. To either side was a set of double doors that appeared to be made of some sort of opaque glass or plastic. Scout could see the shadows of people moving on the other side, but no sound carried through the material.

Caleb stepped up to the desk and tapped the surface. Then he pressed his palm to a glowing rectangle, and the door to the left lit up with a soft green.

“This way,” he said. The doors opened of their own accord as he approached. He stepped to one side in the open doorway and let the three of them pass before jogging to the front to lead the way again.

Where the aesthetic of the main bulk of the ship had been one of tunneled solid metal, and the aesthetic of the marketplace had favored thrown-together bits of whatever was handy, here everything was that same warm, opaque glass that glowed from within softly. The colors clearly had meaning; the walls were all a uniform white with the slightest tinge of blue, but the doors were green, red, pink, indigo, and dozens of other colors.

Caleb seemed to know where he was going, walking briskly and occasionally looking back to make sure they were all still with him between trading nods of greeting with the few people they passed in the hallways.

The people all wore white leggings and tunics, but on their chests were badges that also seemed to be color-coded.

Caleb stepped up to another pair of double doors glowing green and once more triggered them to open, then waited for the others to go through ahead of him.

The first thing Scout heard was the faint hiss of air moving. It reminded her of her time in the medical pod back on Amatheon Orbiter 1, although that had been soft puffs of air across her face. This was more continuous.

She followed Geeta and Emilie into the room and saw a short, round woman with close-cut black hair and a face defined by well-worn smile lines.

Then Geeta gave a little cry and rushed past the woman to bend over what looked like a coffin fashioned from the same clear material as the rest of the hospital only less opaque and not glowing. Seeta lay within. No—floated. Scout bent to look under Seeta’s back but saw nothing between her body and the padded bottom of the pod. Scout had seen hover carts before, but those were magnetic. What held Seeta aloft in the air blowing past her as if she were flying? She looked like something from a fairy tale, her hair fluttering around her face and rippling against her back all the way to her hips.

“Is she all right?” Scout asked, turning to look back at Caleb, then at Emilie. Did Emilie know how that floating effect worked?

“This is Dr. Tajaki,” Caleb said to the three of them.

“No relation,” Dr. Tajaki said with a soft smile.

“She is in charge of your sister’s care and can answer all of your questions,” Caleb said.

“But is she all right?” Scout repeated.

Geeta turned from the coffin to look at the doctor.

“We are doing our very best, but I don’t want to make any false promises,” Dr. Tajaki said. “Your sister has been through a life-ending trauma. She was put into cold stasis, and I’m sure with the technology you had at hand that was absolutely the best choice. Certainly, it brought her to my care before deterioration set in.”

“She’s not cold anymore,” Geeta said, pressing her hand to the side of the coffin.

“No, you are correct,” Dr. Tajaki said with another little smile. “Cold stasis is prone to certain side effects in rare cases. Current protocols call for a warm stasis. This prevents the possibility of ice crystals forming in the major organs.”

“Could that have happened already?” Geeta asked.

“The chance is very remote, but it does happen. We are transitioning her to a warm stasis, which is much safer. We are warming her very slowly, as that is the safest method.”

“Will she wake up?” Geeta asked, looking down at her sister’s face. She certainly seemed like she was only sleeping, now that she was no longer covered in a fine coating of frost.

“Oh no, my dear,” Dr. Tajaki said. “She is still in a state between life and death. Even on this ship, we don’t have the equipment necessary to attempt to revive her from stasis. But you will have access to that in galactic central, and I will oversee the procedure myself.”

“It’s not like a coma?” Emilie asked.

“No. Her heart rate and breathing are not just slowed down, they have stopped. But I promise we are taking the very best care of her.”

“Thank you,” Geeta said. Her voice was trembling ever so slightly.

“There are some things you need to understand. The warming will take several days to complete. Gradual warming gives us the best outcomes, statistically. That process cannot be interrupted. Of course, there is no reason it should be; I don’t want to alarm you.”

“I think we get you,” Emilie said, trading a glance with Scout. Scout was thinking much the same: the doctor was telling them if they tried to leave, they’d have to leave Seeta behind.

“Could the entire pod-coffin thing be moved, say, to another ship?” Scout asked.

The doctor frowned. “I really wouldn’t recommend that. Especially as there are no other ships in this part of the galaxy with a medical department capable of caring for her.”

“But it’s feasible?” Emilie pressed.

“I really wouldn’t recommend it,” the doctor said again, shooting Caleb a puzzled look.

“You are free to stay as long as you like,” Caleb said to them, “and I will send someone from security to scan your palms so you will have access to this room anytime you like. If you should require anything, just speak aloud. The room will hear you. Now, Miss Scout,” he said, turning to look at her. “Shall we see to your dog?”

Scout looked to the others. Geeta had pulled up a chair to sit by her sister’s side and didn’t look up at all.

“I’ll stay with Geeta,” Emilie said. “Do you want me to keep Gert with me?”

“Yes, thank you,” Scout said. “I’ll come back here when we’re done.”

She turned back to Caleb, who smiled at her and led the way back out to the corridor.

“Do you have vets here?” Scout asked.

“Our doctors are familiar with all forms of physiology. Any of them can help us. We’ll just be going to an exam room a short way down the hall. I don’t want to separate you from your friends too much.”

Scout hugged Shadow tighter. “You’ve been with the Months for six years, you said? Has this ship been here the entire time? And no one knew?”

“A few were aware,” Caleb said, opening a smaller door and guiding her inside. There was a low table set in the middle of a room lined with cabinets and an egg-shaped machine on legs in one corner. Scout set Shadow down on the table. He objected to the sudden loss of her body heat, but he was getting heavy.

“But doesn’t it bother you?” she asked. “All of this technology and they aren’t sharing it with the Space Farers. And no one is sharing anything with the Planet Dwellers.”

“There are legal complications,” Caleb said. “Believe me, I know your frustration. I work for the Months specifically because I want to see an end to all the barricades and embargos. And I think we’re nearly there. But it’s taken most of my lifetime.”

He looked profoundly sad, but Scout still couldn’t help asking, “Six years?”

“No, I’ve been trying to unite all of us on the surface and in space for a lot longer than that. When I was a young man, long before the war, I visited the surface once. I loved it: the land, the city life, the people.” He lingered over that last word and seemed to drift off into thought, but then he took a breath and came back to the moment. “I did everything I could to return, but the increasing tensions and then the war made it impossible. Short of creating my own landing craft, which believe it or not I looked into, I was separated from what I loved best. But soon that will be over.”

“I hope you’re right,” Scout said. “The technology should be shared, and the coronal mass ejection storms should be a thing of the past.”

“Definitely,” Caleb agreed. “Do you have people still on the surface, people who might be worried about you and your dogs? I have a way to send messages to the surface. Or at least I did; it’s become unreliable of late. I’m not sure if anyone is still down there to hear me, but I’ll be happy to give it another try.”

“No, there’s no one,” Scout said, but something was bugging her. It took her a minute to work out that it was his eyes. They were so familiar. Then something inside her brain went supernova. “Who is your contact on the surface? What’s her name?”

“Her name?” Caleb repeated. “It’s Viola McNabb, but how did you know it was a woman?”

“Because you remind me of her,” Scout said. Well, not personality-wise—in that sense they were complete opposites—but there was no mistaking those eyes. Some of the facial structure was also the same, and the kinky gray hair. “You were her mother’s secret admirer who lived in space. She kept every letter you ever sent her.”

Tears sprang into Caleb’s eyes. “Did she? She never answered. Not even once.”

Scout stepped closer to the table and hugged Shadow close to her belly. She felt the sudden need for his warmth.

“I’m not sure when Viola’s mother died,” she told him. “She never said. I’m sorry to have to tell you, but Viola is dead too.”

“Viola,” Caleb said, running a shaking hand over his mouth. “I did fear that. She never really talked to me, but she would pass things on, squawk her communications equipment, so I knew she was still there. But all of a sudden even that stopped. Do you know what happened?”

Scout bit her lip. Viola had died spewing blood, poisoned by a trio of girl assassins who weren’t even targeting her. She had just been collateral damage.

Scout hated that phrase.

“It was in the last coronal mass ejection storm,” Scout said.

“That was a bad one,” Caleb said. “Four days. I asked the Months to intervene when the Tajaki employees in space started dismantling those satellites, but they said their hands were tied.” He sniffled, then turned to look over the counter behind him to find a tissue. He carefully kept his back to Scout, and she tried not to notice the shaking of his shoulders. “I had never met her—Viola. I had always longed to, and I was getting so close.”

Scout tried to think of something to say, some words of comfort, but before she could summon any, the door opened with a soft hiss and a young man walked in, eyes on a tablet in his hands before lifting them to Scout and Shadow at the table.

“A dog,” he said, his face lighting up. “I drew the lucky card today.”

Shadow registered the man’s growing enthusiasm and started wagging his tail, thumping against Scout’s side. At least Shadow’s injured leg was one thing that could be easily fixed.

The rest of her life and her mission to get to galactic central, what could be salvaged, was going to be much harder.