The Lost Colony, DM Arnold [ebook reader for laptop TXT] 📗

She must engage you in conversation even if the topic is rambling and makes no sense.” Nyk nodded and interpreted the technician's words.

“Okay -- let's get started.”

Nyk took a deep breath. He felt Laida's hand on his, turned his palm over and squeezed hers. A burning sensation began to radiate up his arm and he began to feel as if he were falling. A roaring filled his ears.

“Nykkyo...” he heard a sweet voice call his name. “Nykkyo -- it's Laida.”

“Laida,” he heard his own voice answer. “Laida my friend...”

The conversation between Laida and his own voice grew distant as the effect of the drug deepened, and became a faint echo...

Nyk opened his eyes, unsure of his surroundings. The room was spinning. He rolled his head to the left and looked into a pair of orange eyes in a green face. To the right he saw a pair of pale blue ones. “Laida... Andra...”

“Are you all right?” Laida asked.

“I think I will be.”

“You did well,” Andra added. “They said they have a good pattern. They'll start training interpreters this afternoon.

“Good. Then, they can get the novonids' side of the story.”

Andra showed Nyk her left wrist. On it was a detention transponder. “I have one of these, too.”

“How much longer, Illya?” Nyk paced Kronta's office.

“We're making progress. Laida and the others have been interviewed, and their testimony matches yours. We've reestablished contact with Varada -- the old way, relaying written communiqués through an ExoScout.”

“What about that comm relay we left in orbit?” Nyk asked.

“The Varadans don't seem to know how to make it work. We are near reaching an agreement to repatriate all but Mos and Laida.”

“What of Mos and Laida?”

“We have agreed to table that discussion -- until after our legal system has disposed of their cases. This, at least, defuses the claim Floran absconded with Varadan property.”

“Property ... property, indeed... They'll probably be killed, Illya -- the feral ones for sure.”

“It's a Varadan internal issue -- it's not our affair.”

“Tomyka Wells, Captain Hayt and others yet unknown made it our affair. And, what's Laida's and Mos's legal status here?”

“Mos killed the captain. He must answer homicide charges. Laida...”

“Laida didn't do ANYTHING, Illya.”

“She is being held as a material witness.”

“Illya, we can't keep them here, in confinement. In the days we've been on Floran -- you can see it in Laida. Her color is fading. She's slowly starving to death. We can't sustain them on sugar water forever.”

“I know.”

“Release them.”

“We can't release an accused murderer.”

“Then, release Laida, at least. Let her have some sunshine. She's not going anywhere. She has nowhere to go. She won't bolt.”

Kronta drummed his fingers on his desk. “All right. I'll release her into your custody. Remember -- it'll be on your head...”

“How could I forget?”

He picked up his vidisplay and poked the screen. “Then let's get her some sunshine.”

They approached Laida's cell and found it empty. “Where is she?” Nyk asked a guard.

“We found her on the floor, vomiting and convulsing. We took her to the infirmary.”

“Our doctors won't know what to do.”

“Follow me, Nyk.” Kronta led Nyk to the lift and requested level four. The liftcar door opened and they approached a checkpoint. The post was vacant.

Kronta passed his hand over a proximity pad. He signaled again. And again.

“Coming, coming...” An Internal Affairs sergeant holding a meal package approached the desk.

“Do you have a green girl here?” Kronta asked.

“What?”

“Did you receive a subject from ExoService detention?”

“Who wants to know?”

“I want to know.”

“And, who are you?”

“Check my profile.”

The sergeant scooped a spoonful of his dinner. He presented a scanpad. Kronta scanned his wrist.

The sergeant scooped more of his dinner and began reviewing Kronta's profile. “Okay, let's see here... Do you know the subject's name?”

“Laida,” Nyk replied.

“Laida who?”

“Just Laida.”

“A Floran?”

“No -- an offworlder.”

“Sergeant,” Nyk said, “can't we just look in the treatment rooms?”

He squinted at Kronta, then nodded toward the corridor. “Go on.”

“I really wish we could coordinate better with Internal Affairs,” Kronta said as they headed down the corridor peeking into rooms.

“Illya -- here!”

Nyk opened the door. Laida lay on a therapeutic pallet. Her skin had faded to a sickly yellow-green. Her head was raised and her breathing appeared labored. A medical intern was attempting to scan her. He shook his head. “Her anatomy is ... flipped ... backward!”

“Yes,” Nyk said.

“Her spleen is more than double the usual size. I don't know if that's normal or not.”

“What are you doing for her?”

“I don't know what to do -- I don't know what's wrong -- I don't know where to start. We've drawn blood -- if that brown stuff in her veins is blood. Our panels are coming back all confused. It has red, white and green corpuscles!”

“Give her glucose,” Nyk said. “Glucose syrup and water. Get a feeding tube into her or something.”

An attendant attached a large syringe to the feeding tube threaded into Laida's left nostril and pressed the plunger. “I don't know why we keep doing this,” the attendant said. “She'll just vomit it up again.”

“She must be absorbing some of it. I'll watch her.”

“Keep her on her side and her face pointed down.”

Nyk sat beside her and ran his fingers along her temple. Her eyes cracked open and she began making retching sounds. He grabbed a basin and held it under her face as she vomited a clear, frothy fluid.

The attendant returned with a pouch of clear fluid. “Doctor wants to start an intravenous glucose infusion.” She hung the pouch, pushed a stool near the pallet and began examining Laida's left arm. “Let's see if we can find a good vein... This will do.” She pulled the guard off a lance.

Laida shrieked and jerked her arm away. Tears filled her eyes. “NO! NO! NO!” she blubbered.

“You must cooperate,” the attendant said. She addressed Nyk. “Please tell her to cooperate.”

“You must understand,” Nyk replied, “that on her world, they execute her kind with lethal injections. She must fear you're about to put her out of her misery.”

The attendant stepped back, her hand to her lips. “Oh, no, sweetie,” she said. “We won't hurt you.”

Nyk crouched. “Laida... They want to give you medicine in your arm. Do you understand?” He held her hand and stroked the back of it. “I won't let them hurt you. Do you trust me?” Her lip trembled and a tear ran down her face.

“I don't think she's fully coherent,” he said to the attendant. He caressed her face. “Laida -- it's Nykkyo.”

“Nykkyo...”

“Your friend, remember?” She smiled and nodded. “The doctors want to give you medicine in your arm. They want to help you, not hurt you. I won't let them harm you. I'll hold your hand.” He looked toward the attendant. “She's left-handed.”

“I'll use her right arm.”

Laida bit her lip and whimpered. Nyk held her hand as the attendant pierced her skin and connected the line leading from the pouch. “Done.”

Nyk caressed Laida's head and cheeks. “You're all right -- rest now.”

“That struggle must've taken most of her strength.”

“Probably... I'll sit with her until she calms.”

Andra stepped into the room. “Any change?”

“Only for the worse. She can't keep the glucose syrup down, so they've switched to intravenous.” Laida lay on her back, her eyes closed and her breathing labored. “We're not giving her what she needs. She needs sunlight.”

“What she needs is that pink paste,” Andra replied.

Nyk looked up. “Of course! The protein and minerals -- what has it been? Fifteen days without it?”

“Maybe twenty.”

Nyk grabbed Andra's hand and led her to the lift and out onto the plaza at Government Center. He ran down a moving staircase and along the street to the hostel, scanned his wrist and rode a liftcar.

“Open up!” He pounded on the door to a room. It slid open. “Zane! We need your help!”

“Nykkyo... Fancy meeting YOU here. Do you know I'm in double trouble? That's right -- for being a member of the crew that smuggled those green people, AND for helping you in the mutiny.”

“Did you know about the novonids?”

He shook his head. “No. As far as I can tell it was the captain, first officer and two yeomen. They had deck four locked out during those shuttle landings -- to protect the rest of the ship in the event of an accident, they said.”

“The truth to this will come out. When it does, we'll all be exonerated. I wouldn't be surprised if you get a commendation.”

“I don't know about that. The ExoService doesn't hand out medals to mutineers. I don't know of a precedent for what happened.” Zane eyed him “I'm sure this isn't a social call...”

“Zane, Laida is dying. Her testimony will be crucial in resolving this for all of us. You need to help us.”

“How can I help?”

“That comm relay we dropped off near Varada -- how operational is it?”

“There's still work to be done on the ground. We installed one uplink at Ogan's office. It'll work when that hemisphere faces the relay.”

“The Varadans can't make it work.”

“That doesn't surprise me. Assuming the fusion reactors are still on line, it should function.”

“Can I use it make a call to Ogan?”

Zane looked skyward. “An inbound call would have to be connected manually.”

“What does that entail?”

“I'd need access to a vidisplay to bring up the control channel. Then, another vidisplay could connect a call.”

“Let's do it, then.”

“Use my handheld,” Andra said. She pulled it from her sash and handed it to him.

Zane poked the screen. “This could be somewhat complicated... That relay isn't registered in the comm net directory...”

“Not registered?” Nyk asked.

Zane's gaze flicked up to Nyk. “The Comm Corps doesn't know about this particular node.”

“Are you telling me that comm relay is a bootleg?”

“Not exactly... It's only accessible through dedicated ExoService portals.”

“Where would those dedicated portals lead, Zane? To Gamma-5?”

Zane shrugged. “Perhaps... I've got the relay's control channel ... I think it's the right relay...” He poked the screen again. “Okay -- I have a control panel.”

“To think someone could use a handheld to access a control panel on one of our relays,” Andra remarked. “Isn't that poor security?”

“That someone would have to know about a half-dozen passwords... And, he'd need to know what he's doing... I'm in and accessing the uplink on the surface... No response.”

“Was the relay parked over their sun's north pole?”

“South pole. The capital is south of the equator.”

“I don't know what time it is there. If it's night, the uplink could be pointing into empty space. Keep trying, Zane.”

Nyk paced around Zane's hostel room. Floran's sun set in the west and the city's lights came on. Zane poked the handheld. “I have the uplink!”

“Now what?”

“Let me acquire a local comm trunk... Okay, make your call. I'll transmit the port numbers.”

Nyk manipulated his handheld. “Can I use this as a locator code?”

“Yes -- it should connect.”

He entered the code and a blue screen appeared. “Voice-only?”

“We don't have the video format converters in place.”

The call connected. “Prefect Ogan's office,” a female voice answered.

“Glinni?”

“...yes...”

“This is Nykkyo Kyhana. I'm calling from Planet Floran. I must speak with Prefect Ogan.”

“Just a moment...”

Nyk flashed a thumb's up sign.

“Mr Kyhana...” He heard Glinni's voice again. “Prefect Ogan does not wish to speak with you.” The call disconnected.

“Their trunk dropped,” Zane reported.

“Open it again.”

“Just a moment... Okay, place your call.”

“Prefect Ogan's office.”

“Glinni -- it's Nykkyo Kyhana again.”

“Mr Kyhana...”

“Please don't hang up. This is a matter of life and death. I must speak with the prefect. Tell him I think we can help each other.”

“Just a moment...”

Nyk's palms were beginning to perspire. “Mr Kyhana -- Prefect will be with you shortly.”

“Mr Kyhana...” He heard Ogan's voice. “I must say, you have the most presumption of any young man I have met. From the very top, indeed -- to abscond with our novonids...”

“No, Prefect. You and I were both duped. This Letter-of-Intent was just a distraction.”

“I am a laughing stock here. I don't know if I'll keep my job.”

“Prefect -- we have some novonids here on Floran.”

“Yes, I know. I learned that, while Envoy Wells and I were hashing over the tenses of verbs, some other negotiations were going on behind my back.”

“I had nothing to do with it, Prefect. Please believe me. If I had known this was going on, I wouldn't have participated. I'd have notified our authorities ... put a stop to it. Can you believe that?”

“I don't know what to believe.”

“Prefect -- these novonids are dying.”

“Best to let them die. It will save us the trouble of exterminating them.”

“No, Prefect. We want to save them. I need to know what goes into the nutrient they eat.”

There was silence from the other end of the call.

“Prefect -- what constitutes the food they eat? I know it's protein and minerals. What minerals?”

“Why do you want to save them? What are you planning