one with the red handle,” demanded Zuchmul.
She found the tool in the drawer under the housing and gave it to him, but before she could slide the drawer shut again, several of the tools bounced out, then the drawer came off its tracks and slid toward the hatch leading to the bunks. Just then Elias rolled out of his bunk, one hand on his head, where she’d removed the bandage.
As Zuchmul struggled to insert the tool accurately, he twisted to catch a glimpse of Elias. His expression was unreadable, but she knew he could smell Elias’ blood.
“What’s wrong?” bellowed Elias, gripping the hatch cowling and peering over his shoulder at Idom, then turning to look at Zuchmul again.
“Stand still!” ordered Kyllikki. To her surprise, Elias did. She sat down and thrust one leg over Zuchmul’s folded knees to make a table and told him, “Lean your elbows on my leg. It’ll steady your hand.”
“Good. Hold it!” he grunted, drawing a bead on his target and thrusting the tuner into the mechanism.
The device lit up bright orange, spat, shrieked, and went dark and silent. Instantly, the jiggling stopped, and all they heard was the smooth whine of the gravitic drive. She repossessed her leg and they climbed to their feet, panting and grinning, Kyllikki between Elias and Zuchmul. The luren faced the controls, while, over his shoulder, Kyllikki noted the readouts claimed nominal function. She turned to Elias.
Without warning, the gravity gave one more lurch, throwing Elias into the chamber. As he staggered toward them, one of his feet came down into the loose tool drawer.
Dancing frantically, he grabbed at the overhead maze of equipment and caught a strut, regaining balance for a second. Then there was a loud snap, and one end of the strut broke loose. It slid out of Elias’ grasp. The free end slashed down in an arc, aimed directly at Kyllikki’s head. Elias staggered forward, arms flailing.
“Duck!” screamed Kyllikki, grabbing Zuchmul’s shoulder as she went down. But the luren twisted to look for the hazard. The sharp end of the beam just missed Kyllikki’s head, then slashed through the soft flesh of Zuchmul’s throat.
Elias landed with a cry of pain.
A gout of bright red blood fountained onto Elias and splashed onto the floor. The swinging beam reached the end of its arc just short of the gravitic panel and swung back over Zuchmul.
“Idom!” yelled Kyllikki, scrabbling around to examine Zuchmul while keeping her head under the beam’s arc.
The pulsing fountain of blood subsided with a shocking finality before she could touch the wound.
“I killed him,” muttered Elias, glassy-eyed. “I didn’t mean to—Kyllikki—”
She thrust her hand behind Zuchmul’s head and felt his neck, watching as the head moved normally. She felt no grinding of broken vertebrae. The beam had hit him sideways, slicing through the front of his throat and the main arteries at the sides, but not touching his spine.
Idom saw what had happened, and snapped, “Elias, help me!” He grabbed the flying beam to drag it to a halt.
Elias rose up and wrapped his arms around the beam, and their combined mass finally stopped the swing.
“I think he’s all right, Idom,” said Kyllikki.
Elias, arms wrapped around one end of the captured beam, cried, “All right?! He’s dead!”
Idom knelt beside Zuchmul and turned the body on its side, inspecting the spine and the wound. “Missed by a fraction. You’re right. He should be all right.” He looked up at Elias. “It’s a good thing he’s luren.”
“Luren?”
“It’s hard to believe, just reading about them I know, but I’ve seen them recover from worse.”
Kyllikki watched Elias’ expression. He’s never heard of luren. Granted, there might be a few people in the Metaji who’d never heard of the only human race that routinely died and revived, but they weren’t likely to be riding around in courier ships.
“Help me get him into a bunk,” said Kyllikki. “That’s not much of a wound. We’ve got to get him into stasis right away.” She didn’t dare think of the risks of stasis itself, never mind if the stasis machinery malfunctioned. He might never wake up, but she knew he’d prefer that to what would happen if he revived out here, without the help of his own people. And so would they.
CHAPTER THREE
The two men wrestled the luren’s body into one of the bunks while Kyllikki read the manual on how to activate the bunk’s stasis facility. As pod medic, she had been drilled in this routine, and knew that even for luren it could be fatal. Even the newest designs weren’t reliable.
Very carefully, following the step-by-step diagrams, she primed the bunk and set the control probes in the body. She found three cautions specifically for luren suspected of being dormant, not dead. Idom hung over her and double-checked each move before returning to the pilot’s station.
Only after the translucent cover had been pulled down isolating the bunk, did she dare to think of the body in it as her friend, Zuchmul. Then she blinked back tears and clenched her hands together. They were cold and shaking.
A strong, warm arm came around her waist. She was too tense even to be startled.
“I guess he was a friend of yours.”
She looked up into the face that had haunted her for days. His distinctive mental tone permeated her body.
She wanted to turn into his arms, lay her head on his shoulder, and cry. Instead, not trusting her barriers, she tried to pull away. He held on to her, a move she hadn’t expected. She was wearing a Com Officer’s uniform. Who would treat a telepath like that?
“Elias, no.” She freed herself.
He stepped back. “I only wanted to help.”
A conviction came from nowhere. He didn’t recognize the Com Officer’s uniform. She presented her sleeve, stretching the device out for him. “I’m a telepathic communicator, with commercial level skills, but sometimes when I’m upset...well, I wouldn’t want to invade your privacy accidentally.” It was hard to say after giving hundreds of earnest reassurances that she didn’t read minds uninvited.
He stepped back and came up against the opposite bunk. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m upset, too.”
He’s a passenger, and I’m supposed to be crew! “Elias, we’re going to make it to Barkyr just fine. We’re not in any danger. So all you have to do is lie down on that bunk again, and let the healer do its job on your head. Meanwhile, I’ll see about getting a meal together.”
By the time she got the food on the table, cross checking everything against the healer’s readouts on Elias to make sure she didn’t poison him, she had cheered up considerably. At least they could eat without guilt. Zuchmul wasn’t starving anymore.
Maybe he’d planned to ride back in stasis anyway!
When she’d released Elias, he, too, had looked considerably less white-lipped and dazed. But he was as taciturn as ever during
