33
It wasn’t the prettiest incision I’d ever made, but it would do the trick. Relieve the pressure inside his arm enough to keep it alive, let the actual doctors do the rest. We flew him to the Med Corps hospital ship and ran him straight up to their trauma center, where a team of Gray docs waited. I gave my report to the attending, who was astonished that this unlikely human had performed field surgery on one of the Corps’ most senior physicians without making matters worse. So, just another day that ends in “y.”
We checked in with Jarra in the operations center, and filled her in on what that rogue Thuban drop ship had been up to. She was likewise astonished at our exploits, and even more so that Xeelix had been down on the surface this whole time without anyone knowing about it.
That could’ve been a much longer conversation, but she had other things on her plate. Namely, the ship which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
This one was nothing like the bulky Thuban battlewagons, or even the more stylish civilian transports. It was spectacular, a glittering jewel hanging in space, or a Christmas ornament the size of a small town.
It was ellipsoid, with its top half made of a transparent dome protecting what looked to be dense vegetation. It was a massive greenhouse, a conservatory floating in space.
The lower half was more functional, filled with whatever machinery was needed to make it function as a spaceship. A cluster of cylinders extended underneath like stalactites, with the largest of them beneath the ship’s center. This one was filled with windows lit from within, which gave away the scale of the thing. Unless it was made for beings the size of small dogs, this ship was a beast.
Jarra stiffened. She seemed to anticipate what was coming next. One of the holoscreens flickered as its image shifted. An old man appeared against a background of cherry wood paneling, with what looked for all the world like an oriental tapestry hung behind him. His hair was slicked back, and he wore a gray wool suit with a garish floral necktie.
He was human.
“Jarra,” he said.
“Gideon.”
Bjorn winced as I squeezed his hand tight. Gideon?
“Can you tell me what’s happened on Tanaan?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Or rather, the science ministry. I am certain they have questions.”
“I have a few of my own, though I wouldn’t expect you to be knowledgeable about those matters.”
Jarra clasped her hands behind her back, edgily working her long fingers. She looked pissed. “No, but I am curious. Though as you can see, we have many other concerns at this time.”
“You’re right about that. We were already en route to Tanaan when I heard about the accident. This is awful, simply awful.”
Bjorn shot me a sideways glance, which I interpreted as Emissary for bullshit.
“We have the matter of survivors under control. All who could be evacuated are now aboard Union vessels, including many of your Gliesan contractors. You say you were already en route?”
Gideon shifted his weight. That’s when I noticed he was leaning on a cane. “I was coming to evaluate the results of an ongoing research project. Tell me, when will my employees be free to leave?”
“Not for some time, though ultimately that is not up to me. They are all currently either in burn wards or undergoing treatment for radiation poisoning.”
He made a tsk sound. “Terrible. A tragedy.”
“Quite.”
I’d heard enough, and was too tired to worry about stepping on anyone’s toes. I moved closer to Jarra, making sure the man on screen could see me.
His mouth fell open, appropriately startled. He quickly composed himself. “Well, this is certainly a surprise! And who are you, young lady?”
“Melanie Mooney. From Earth, if you haven’t figured that out.”
An insincere smile crossed his lips, ending at his eyes. “North American. Midwest, if I gauge the accent correctly. Forgive me, but it’s been some time since I’ve spoken with other humans.”
“About eighty years, if I have my history right.”
“The gal’s done her homework. Yes, in Earth time. What brings you to the Union?”
“Recruited by the Medical Corps. And you?”
He ignored my question. “Med Corps, hmm? You a nurse?”
I shook my head. “Paramedic.”
“Well, that is impressive. I suppose there’s a lot of things you girls can do on Earth these days.”
“Sure,” I said acidly, getting my back up. “Some of us even work outside the home, become doctors. Lawyers. Even astronauts. It’s all rather . . . liberating.” I threw in that last one just to get under his skin.
“Astronauts are a bit after my time, though it’s an amusing notion given our surroundings. I’m sure you’ll find the Medical Corps to be fascinating work. I’ve had many interactions with them myself,” he said, lifting his arms and doing a slow pirouette. “As you can surely tell. Play your cards right and you’ll have a long, healthy life here.”
My eyes darted over to an image of the hellscape Tanaan had been turned into. “Is that what you’ve been doing here? Playing your cards?”
His eyes narrowed, signaling I needed to watch my tone. “All in legitimate business endeavors, young lady.”
I glanced at Bjorn, who quirked an eyebrow. Exhaustion had depleted his normal reserve of diplomacy. “Any chance those ‘endeavors’ include monkeying around with zero-point energy?”
It was his turn to stiffen up. His calculated smile turned ice cold. “I’m not about to discuss my interests with you or anyone else here. They are between me and the science ministry.”
That was as good as a “yes” by my reckoning. “And a few thousand innocents on Tanaan.”
Gideon leaned forward on his cane, shaking a finger. “You’re out of line, miss. The research I sponsor stands to benefit every race in the galaxy. There is nothing here that the Union isn’t kept apprised of.”
“Or maybe you only tell them what you want them to know.”
“Unfortunate accidents are sometimes the price of progress. The workers on Tanaan knew the risks.”
“You sure about that?”
“It’s all spelled out in their contracts.”
“What about industrial accidents that destroy entire planets? That kill and injure thousands? Is that in the contract, too?”
He was glowering now. “Do you know the sacrifices it took to build the first railroads, young lady? Power plants? Hell, to beat the Nazis for that matter? Or do they not teach history anymore on Earth?”
“I know there are great men, and not-so-great men that end up with a lot of money and power anyway. I’m guessing you’re in the latter.”
His cheeks flushed. “Jarra, get your human pet there under control. We’re done here. Let me know when my employees are released for duty.” With that, the screen went blank. Outside, the space around Gideon’s yacht began rippling from the same kinds of gravity waves I’d only seen from inside Bjorn’s ship. It soon disappeared, and the space where it had been returned to normal.
Jarra turned to face me. “We’ll discuss this later. I believe you are off duty now.”
It was a long trip back to the ring city. I spent my time on the hospital ship taking turns on shift rotation, though there weren’t many emergent cases left to deal with. The Med Corps doctors had their hands full, so my duties mainly consisted of playing nurse, monitoring patient’s vitals and administering meds. It was important work but a little boring, a reminder of why I’d chosen EMS in the first place.
Whenever possible, I’d visit Xeelix in his ward. Much of the time he was asleep as his body worked overtime to heal itself. The docs had cleaned up my incision but it still looked nasty. The muscle tissue remained exposed, protected beneath a sterilizing force field while a skin graft was grown in the lab from a batch of Reticulan stem cells.
It had to hurt like hell but he stubbornly refused any pain meds, protesting that they dulled his senses. With the sensory overload he’d had on Tanaan, I’d have thought he’d welcome having them dulled a bit. Personally, I was looking forward to dulling my own senses at Wayside when we got home.
Home. What a strange word for out here. Shared trials will do that for you.
I was sitting by Xeelix’s bed when he awoke. “Hello, Melanie.” His voice was weak.
“Don’t strain yourself on my account.”
“You have earned the privilege.”
“As have you. Feel free to think at me.”
His thin mouth curled up into a grin, or the closest he could manage. His voice was raspier than usual. “It helps to master your language if I vocalize instead of relying on the translator. Have you not noticed?”
I was taken aback at his gesture. “You’re speaking English! That’s not the chip in my head?”
“Ah. Then I was successful. I wondered if you were simply playing along with me.”
“Never. I respect you too much. And thanks, by the way.”
“It is I who owe you thanks. For rescuing me, and for teaching me.”
“Teaching you? You’re the reason I made it through training here. I was drinking from a fire hose in class and you broke it down into bits I could understand. Showed me how to pull it all together on runs.”
He reached for me with his good arm and grasped my hand. “You possessed that ability when you arrived; we only needed to teach you the particulars. Remember why you were recruited.”
I was still having trouble getting my head around that idea. Out of eight billion people on Earth, why had they chosen me? It was still hard to believe it had started with an accident, simply being in the right place at the right time.
There is something to that, of course. But your compassion and tenacity attracted our attention.
I tapped my forehead. “You’re cheating.”
He coughed. “My apologies. You must forgive me, I’m still rather weak. The old habits assert themselves.”
“It’s okay. But promise me you’ll take it easy for a while.”
“Of course.” He fixed me with those deep black eyes, as if he could see right through me. It would always be a little unnerving, no matter how many Grays I might get to know. “I have learned a great deal from you, Melanie. I have always believed in your kind’s potential. I also know there are many more like you, and they will be the ones who ultimately win over the Union. Not . . .”
“The ones like Gideon?”
“I suppose those personality types are unavoidable. Unfortunately, your kind possesses more than we typically encounter. It is one of those civilizational filters we discussed.”
“I still don’t understand why the Union puts up with him.”
“Nor do I, though he largely resides outside of its influence now. I suspect after this misadventure, he will become even more estranged. You played no small role in that.”
“You mean when I blew up at him? All I did was show my ass, and he barely gave up anything.”
“It was enough. Trust me, Jarra will ensure the science ministry is fully informed. Small steps, Melanie. Small steps.”
Weeks later, life had returned to normal. That is, normal for a medic in the Union. After a stint back in dispatch as “punishment” for missing two shifts in a row, I was finally back on ambulance duty. Whatever burr I’d planted under Jarra’s saddle must have been forgiven, as I couldn’t have asked for a better crew: Bjorn piloted, while Chonk worked with me in back.
Our first day together had come after a night of celebration at Wayside, but this time I’d been smart enough to pace myself. It had been a memorable evening, with plenty of ka’vaa’ma’loi, though none of us touched the stone bug burritos and we barely tolerated the smell from the grill. We elected to sit outside in the fresh air of the biodome.
Turns out it was all engineered for my benefit. Chonk led me to a patio crowded with Thubans, Reticulans, and a clan of Gliesans. Bjorn and Sven stood to one side with knowing smiles.
“What’s this?”
Chonk unrolled a bolt of violet fabric from his waist pouch. “This for you. On behalf of all. Is Th’u’ban combat medic sash. You have proven worthy. Wear with pride.”
I didn’t know what to say, in fact I was a little weak-kneed. Thubans beat their chests, Gliesans clicked their mandibles, and Reticulans regally bowed their heads as I slipped on the sash. It hung past my knees.
Bjorn placed a hand on my shoulder. “I believe you are one of us now,” he said. “Welcome to the Galactic Union.”
I’d heard that months before, from a faceless immigration clerk. Now it meant something. For the first time in too many years, I had a family again. I self-consciously wiped at my eyes. “Thank you, everyone. It’s an honor, truly.”
There was something of my own to give. I reached into my pocket and pulled out an old pin that I’d been keeping as a memento. It was the blue-and-white, six-pointed “Star of Life.” The EMS pin. I handed it to Chonk.
“This is our shield. On behalf of . . . Earth.” It sounded a little melodramatic, but it’s hard not to be when you’re surrounded by extraterrestrials. “You’ve proven yourself as well, Chonk.” I finished by giving my friend a tight hug, and reached up on tiptoes to peck his cheek.
That’s not weird. I was occasionally known to kiss my pet lizard. Deal with it, Earthlings.
We sat the next day aboard our good old Class III transport, waiting for the next call, with me fingering the sash now safely tucked away in my hip pocket and Chonk obsessively fidgeting with his human medic badge. He’d pounded it into the scales on his chest, and there it remained.
“How long you stay?” he asked.
I looked up in surprise. “How long? I just got here!”
“You once say human medics ‘burn out.’ Don’t want you ‘burn out.’”
“Me neither, buddy. I kind of like it here. It’s a lot more interesting than picking up old ladies that fall on the sidewalk.”
He considered that. “Happens much?”
“Too much.”
We were interrupted by the warning siren and the beacons pulsing outside. Bjorn leaned in from the pilot’s station, holding up a dispatch notice on his crystal. “I understand you’d like things to stay interesting? As your kind says, be careful what you wish for.”
“What’ve we got?”
“An Orionid mother in labor, on a passenger transport passing our sector. The ship’s physician is unfamiliar with her . . . unusual needs. He’s requesting assistance. Jarra thought we’d be the ‘optimal crew’ for this run, as she put it.”
I hopped up to wave the door shut, then strapped myself in. “We’d better get moving if there’s a mom in labor. Babies tend to make their own schedules.” And I was anxious to deliver my first baby; human or otherwise it’s the high point of any medic’s career. “Orionid,” I wondered. “They’re the octopus-looking guys, right? Haven’t had a run for one of them yet.”
Chonk and Bjorn shared a look. “First time everything.”
Enough screwing around. “I don’t know what you guys think is so funny. How hard can it be?”