Page 3 of Stellar Drift
Houyen’s pilot chair was swiveled to face the opening, but he was still webbed in.His head lolled back and to the side, and his limbs sprawled bonelessly.His light brown face was ashen, but the sweat-damp skin of his neck under his tunic was mottled with a cherry-red rash.
She spat a vile curse.
Houyen was very sick, and she’d seen it before.Within the last ten-day, in fact.
Infinity fever.
It came on hard and fast with some people, sometimes within fifteen minutes or less, which explained Houyen’s erratic landing.If she opened his tunic, she’d probably see the characteristic red half-circles all over his torso.She even had the means in her first-aid kit to confirm her diagnosis.
The survival part of her brain told her to leave him alone, but she ignored it.Walking away wasn’t an option.Without treatment, he could die.Hell, even with conventional treatment for his symptoms, he could die.
Muttering more curses, she climbed into the aircar and dropped the bags to the deck.
Kyala whined and looked anxiously at the unconscious man.Sairy didn’t need to connect mentally with the gargoyle to know she didn’t like the smell.The acetone scent was strong enough for even Sairy’s human nose to detect.
He was even sicker than she thought.She’d test him just to be sure, but another signature symptom of infinity fever was ketones in the bloodstream.As was his wheezy breathing.The disease was resurging in the towns again, as if it had drifted in with the wet-season mists.It was his bad luck that he’d caught it.
From her first aid kit, she pulled out the mixed pack of hypojets and injets.She also pulled out gloves and a face shield.As far as she knew, she was immune, but why push her luck?
She selected the black injet and knelt to touch it to the back of Houyen’s hand.He didn’t even twitch when the multiple microneedles pierced his skin to draw tissue and blood samples.The readout blinked yellow once, then turned a steady red.
She stowed the injet in the decontamination pocket of her bag.Houyen needed treatment, and soon.
Calling for emergency medical assistance via the planetary net for help would put her personal pingref in CPS records and bring strangers entirely too close to her proverbial front door.And that assumed EMA would respond quickly, which wasn’t a safe bet deep in the middle of the nature reserve.
Even if his aircar would let her fly it, she couldn’t in good conscience take him to Irakat Collective, the closest town.They only had two autodocs and maybe five people who knew more than just how to press the power button.
The best option for her own safety would be to bring the treatment to him and let him sleep it off in his aircar.Unfortunately, he wasn’t awake to get his consent to administer an experimental drug.Guilt needled her with the reminder that she hadn’t let consent stop her from secretly treating townspeople, either.So far, she and the others had suffered no aftereffects from the treatment she and Elkano had developed.Each dose was a gamble, but the alternative was watching more people die.
The best chance for curing him would be to take him to her home and treat him there so she could deal with any adverse reactions.No one else had been allergic, but he could be the first.
If he’d been one of the locals, she’d ping the Irakat administrator to come get him.If he had been any of the other rangers, or the pain-in-the-ass enforcers from Falco Joro’s so-called construction project, she’d have administered the hypojet and left them to fend for themselves.
But this was Houyen.Dedicated, kind, and sexy Houyen, who fluxed her engines on a bone-deep level despite her pretending otherwise.He didn’t deserve to die.
She tapped her earwire.“Elkano.The ranger has infinity fever.If I bring him to our home for treatment, what are the chances we’ll regret it?”
After a long moment, he responded.“Sorry, but there are too many unknowns.”He sounded more relieved than apologetic.Making nuanced, no-right-answers choices wasn’t his strong suit.”That’s a pilot decision.”
She was the only pilot, or at least the only conscious pilot, so that meant her.“Alright, then, he’s coming with us.I’m not going to waste time trying to breach the aircar’s security so I can fly it.I’ll strap him to the airsled’s cart.”
“Okay.Want me to get the autodoc ready?”
“Yes.And he’s going to need electrolyte fluid replacements.”
“I’ll check our stock and synthesize more if needed.”
“Thanks.”She scooped up her bags.“Come on, Kyala.Let’s get the sled as close as we can.The ranger is too heavy to carry very far.”
Four days later, in the small, darkened room that housed her still-pristine white, military-grade autodoc, the soft interior glow on Houyen’s body was the only light.The blended harmonics of the autodoc’s systems hummed quietly.
Sairy leaned against the doorjamb, arms crossed.Kyala, her muzzle still wet from lapping at the fountain, pressed her shoulders gently against Sairy’s thigh.Through their mental link, Sairy knew Kyala didn’t care for the medicinal smells from the autodoc and was still distressed by Houyen’s illness.The gargoyle had taken a liking to Houyen, as if he were one of her long-lost pups.
He looked vulnerable and helpless.Sairy felt an unexpected wave of protectiveness.He must have been particularly susceptible.She would have spared him the last days and nights of fever spikes, chills, and delirium if she could have.Now that he was on the mend and showing signs of regaining consciousness, she had a choice to make.
Seeing him up close — and wrestling his body and uncooperative limbs into the autodoc’s shell-shaped chamber — confirmed her opinion that he was beautiful.He wore his thick dark hair short with no styling, which suited his angular features and light brown skin tone.He was strong and fit, and looked to be in his mid-40s.But she really had no idea how old he was.Thanks to modern medicine, simple body maintenance could shave ten or fifteen years off anyone.A couple of days in a decent bodyshop in the megacity to the north could make him look anywhere from twenty to a hundred and seventy, and whatever shape, ethnicity, or gender he liked.
At least she hadn’t needed to remove more than his gauntlet-style percomp and his pocketed work vest to let the autodoc’s probes and nano-needles do their jobs.Stripping off his clothes would have felt like taking advantage of him.Which made no sense, considering she’d already given him a little-tested, experimental treatment without his consent, but there it was.
