“Do refrain from that. At least for another nineday. Walking is fine, climbing stairs is fine, but running would be too much right now.”
She pulled out the chair next to him and sank into it with a sigh of bliss. “I’m not a runner anyway. Can I climb a ladder?”
“Yes, within bounds of reason.”
“I’m guessing twenty decks is not inside those bounds?”
He shook his head. “Had I not known you were a warrior before, that question would have told me. I suppose you could climb twenty decks if you were to take it very slowly. But my preference would be that you limit yourself to four or five decks.”
“All right. I can make that work.”
He made a note on his reader card and tucked it back into its pouch. “Do you have any other questions?”
“Yes. What were you doing when you touched my leg after scanning it?”
“I was listening to it.”
Ekatya glanced at the translator, wondering if it had erred. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. You can listen to a body?”
The question seemed to amuse him. “I suppose it would seem odd to a sonsales race. Our healing is not all science and technology, Captain Serrado. Part of it involves using our empathic senses. We listen to what the body tells us, and the more powerful healers can use projection to aid the body in repairing itself. I listened to your leg, and it told me that it was whole and stable. The scanner said the same thing, but we never put all of our trust in scanners if we can help it. A second, more organic opinion is always best.”
Lhyn was going to burst a blood vessel when she heard about this.
“Just to clarify,” she said, “when you say projection, you mean projecting emotions?”
He nodded.
“So emotions can heal?”
“Of course. Do you mean to say that your healers don’t know this?”
She thought about the times her doctors had told her that attitude mattered. “I suppose they do, but not like this. It’s more of a general belief that a positive mental outlook can speed healing. We do know that the brain and body are capable of much more than we understand, but we can’t force them to do what we want. It only seems to happen subconsciously. And even then, it never takes the form of such accelerated healing.”
“If you don’t know how to direct and focus it, then naturally it would not work well, if at all. It would be like…” He paused. “Like starting the engine of a transport but never giving it the command to fly. The energy is there, but without direction it doesn’t accomplish anything.”
She smiled at him. “I appreciate your effort in coming up with an analogy I can understand.”
“When one is a healer, one must learn to communicate with warriors. We see you more than any other caste.”
“I can well imagine.” She still hadn’t gotten over Lancer Tal’s casual mention of nearly losing her leg in a sword fight. “Which are the other castes you see more often?”
“The builders and producers tend to get themselves in trouble more than the rest. Mind you, they’re not nearly so bad as the warriors. At the other end, the crafter caste hardly ever darkens our doors.”
“I’ll bet you love crafters, then.”
“I’m bonded to one,” he said, his expression warming.
“What does she do? Or he?” She added the last a beat late, remembering Lhyn saying that gender distribution in Alsean bondings was quite different from Protectorate norms.
“She’s a musician. She plays the long bells in the Blacksun Symphony.” When Ekatya looked blank, he said, “Here, let me show you.” Opening his reader card again, he tapped it a few times and held it out. “This is my bondmate and her long bells.”
She took it and stared in surprise. A slender, light-haired woman stood in front of a row of gigantic hanging tubular bells, the smallest of which was nearly as tall as she was. “Ah. We would call these chimes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen any so large. They must have a beautiful tone.”
“Yes, you don’t play the long bells if you ever hope to have a portable instrument.” He chuckled at his joke and took the reader card back. “We had to build a separate room just for her to practice in. Fortunately, the Blacksun Symphony has its own set, so she doesn’t need to move them very often.”
“I would enjoy hearing her play.”
He grew somber at that. “You may get your wish. I understand that your three fallen warriors are being given a state memorial. Chrysaltin is often asked to play at such events.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and said, “I am sorry to have brought up a disturbing topic. Perhaps we should move on to the next procedure.”
“There’s no need to apologize. But yes, please tell me your thoughts on the language chip.”
Kameha and Xi had been picked up at the Caphenon and returned to the base in time to join them for evenmeal, and Kameha had thought to include a few pads with their supplies. Among the files he’d collected were the schematics for the lingual implant, which the healers had pounced on with great interest. After an hour with the translator and Kameha’s help reading the schematics, Wellernal had come to Ekatya’s room to set her free from the leg case and discuss his findings.
“It’s a fascinating technology,” he said. “I would enjoy exploring it in greater detail with one of your healers. But based on the schematic, the only real need for a healer’s services is in the installation of the implant itself. Once it has been installed, and the neural connections and skull tissues have regrown, changing out the language chips is more of a mechanical operation than a medical one. I could do it for you right now.”
“If it’s that easy, why does it require general anesthesia? And we always have a headache for two or three days afterward.”
“I can only assume your healers use general anesthesia to keep you from moving during the procedure. Given the size of the chips and their connectors, and the sensitive neural connections to the implant itself, any movement during a critical time would have significant ramifications. However, we would use a temporary paralytic instead. It would serve the same function, but your recovery would be faster. As for the headaches, I can’t see any reason for the procedure itself to cause them. My guess is that they’re a physical manifestation of the effort your brain must make to adapt to a different set of neural instructions. And while I can make no guarantees, I believe we can alleviate that with a little empathic guidance.”
Ekatya could almost laugh. It just figured that these Alsean doctors could add “headache-free chip swap” to their list of miracles. After healing her broken leg in less than one day, what was a little headache?
“In that case,” she said, “I’d like to schedule a few procedures with you.” It looked as if she’d be waking Lhyn after all.
Chapter 27
A common language
Tal strode toward the arch of the healing center, its white marble lit brightly by the morning sun. She felt more like herself today, having caught up on her sleep at last. A dawn run had blown the last of the spinner’s webs from her mind and she was ready to handle whatever the day would bring—which, she thought grimly, was going to be a transport full of dokshin. Today they’d get the final fatality count from the ground pounder’s killing spree, and she’d have to make another public announcement. That was bad enough, but the worst part of her schedule was the two hanticks she would spend sitting in front of her vidcom with a list of names, calling the families of the warrior dead. Though that was normally the duty of the base commander, in this instance she, Aldirk, Micah, and Debrett all agreed that the call should come from the Lancer. The most common war cry in their history, for hundreds of generations, had always been “for Alsea.” These warriors were the first to actually die for that cause.
Last night’s schedule had been rearranged over evenmeal, when the Gaian engineers joined them. Commander Kameha had managed to open voice communication between the Caphenon and Lhyn’s ship, and was able
to report that all of the evacuated crew had been accounted for. Tal had watched five cycles of age drop off Serrado’s face at that news, but the change in her emotions was even more profound. The undercurrent of anxiety that had been her constant companion dissipated, and when she decided that a return to her ship could wait until the morning, Tal understood what had been driving her. It made perfect sense, given that the captain had refused to be moved until she knew the status of the twelve crew still in her crashed ship. How much harder must it have been for her to be cut off from news of the thousand others who had evacuated?
Just before she’d gone to bed, Tal received notice from the healing center that the language chip installation was not only feasible, but would be done that night. This morning she’d learned that every one of the Caphenon’s crew had opted for the chip swap, so Lhyn had spent her evening burning language chips, while the healers spent half the night methodically installing them. And now Tal would be able to speak to Captain Serrado with no translator between them, living or mechanical.
Gehrain opened the door, and she stepped through to find a different healer waiting. The older woman bowed her head and said, “Well met, Lancer Tal. I’m Healer Graystone, next-in-charge of the healing center. Healer Wellernal sends his best and wishes he could be here to greet you this day, but he didn’t leave until night-four, after the final language chip installation.”
“Well met, Healer Graystone. And if anyone has earned a night’s rest, it’s Healer Wellernal. I suspect he’s had less sleep than any of us since the ship landed.”
“You suspect correctly. I had to throw him out.”
“And healers complain about warriors.”
“With excellent reason, I assure you. But it’s true that we rarely take our own prescriptions.” She stepped back, indicating the corridor behind her. “With the exception of the two patients who cannot be moved, all of the Caphenon crew are waiting in the east conference room.”
Tal thanked her and began walking in the direction of the conference room. “Since I’ve not heard otherwise, is it safe to assume that all of the chip installations went well?”
“They did,” Graystone said. “And a remarkable piece of micro-engineering that is, too. I’m hoping that since Lieutenant Hmongyon is still incapable of travel to her ship, she might entertain me with a discussion of how this technology works.”
“Does Captain Serrado know that you have plans for her crew?”
“Just the ones staying behind. Besides, since learning that they’re allowed to share information freely, and then being given the language to do so, it appears that our Gaian friends are eager to speak with us.”
“What a lovely thought,” Tal said.
Graystone left her at the conference room, and Tal asked Gehrain and Corlander to come in with her. The other Guards flanked the door.
Ten smooth faces looked up at her as she entered. She’d gotten somewhat used to the lack of facial ridges on the officers and Lhyn, but the four new Gaians in the room were a fresh reminder of just how different these aliens were.
Captain Serrado immediately stood to offer a palm. “Lancer Tal, well met,” she said in flawless High Alsean. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to speaking with you.”
Tal had not seen her smile that broadly before and couldn’t help matching it as they touched palms. “Well met, and I feel the same. I must compliment you on your accent. You sound like a Blacksun native.”
“I should hope so.” Lhyn stood to offer her own palm. “Those chips have my name on them. If they weren’t perfect, I’d be embarrassed.”
“I didn’t say they were perfect.” Tal waited for the disbelief to hit her senses before adding, “I’m joking.”
“I hate that I can’t tell when you are. You must have a giveaway, but I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“I have.” Serrado gave Tal a conspiratorial look. “Don’t worry, I won’t share. She’ll have to puzzle it out on her own.”
Tal was a little startled at this new version of Captain Serrado. Of course, she reminded herself, until now the captain hadn’t been in a normal state of mind or body. Now she stood straight, in a crisp uniform her engineers must have brought from the ship, and radiated an easy confidence that hadn’t been apparent yesterday. This was a woman comfortable with her power and long accustomed to wielding it.
Commander Baldassar stepped up next, holding out his palm. “Well met, Lancer Tal. It’s nice to hear your voice instead of the translator’s.”
“Hey. I’m insulted.”
“I meant the mechanical one, Dr. Rivers.”
“I’m still insulted.” But Lhyn was fooling no one, as the smiles in the room attested.
“Now that we’re all hearing and understanding Lancer Tal for ourselves, I think it’s time for some proper introductions.” Captain Serrado turned to the remaining crew members, who stood up with a scraping of chairs. “Lieutenant Candini, my best pilot.”
“At the moment, your only pilot.” Candini stepped forward and touched palms. “It’s a great pleasure to meet you for real this time, Lancer Tal.”
“For me as well. I’m glad you’re no worse for wear after your unexpected landing. And thank you for keeping my pilot in one piece.”
“Not a problem. Besides, Tesseron repaid me by taking care of everything once we landed, and he was good company on the flight back. I now know all about the superiority of the Blacksun Vallcats in wallball.”
Tal chuckled. “Then you’re equipped to make conversation with half the residents of the city and more than three-quarters of the warriors at Blacksun Base. Wallball is either a sport or a religion, depending on who you ask.”
Captain Serrado beckoned to the extremely short, well-muscled chief engineer and the taller young man beside him. “Commander Kameha and Trooper Xi, who helped hold the Caphenon together long enough to wipe out a Voloth invasion group.”
Tal touched palms with both of them, thanked them for their efforts, and turned to the last four.
“And this is my best weapons team, led by Warrant Officer Roris. They’ve won five out of my last six drills, and I think the only reason they didn’t win the sixth was because Roris was still recovering from the Palasian flu that day. Oh, and they also knocked a Voloth orbital invader out of your sky.”
The woman who stepped forward had pronounced musculature, short brown hair, and an easy smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet the person who took such good care of all of us,” she said, holding up her hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet the team who helped save my people. Taking care of you was the least I could do.”
“May I introduce my team, Captain?” At Serrado’s nod, Roris indicated the tall, burly man with a haircut like Micah’s and said, “Trooper Torado. He had to be carried out yesterday, but your medtech is incredible.”
“I didn’t even get to add another scar to my collection,” Torado said as he offered his palm.
“Did you want one?” Tal asked. “I’m sure I can arrange something with the healers.”
“No, that’s all right. But thank you.”
Tal was amused by the difference between the warrior swagger he presented on the outside and the nervousness that poured through his touch. She suspected that weapons teams weren’t often included in diplomatic meet and greets.
The shorter man whose haircut matched Torado’s was introduced as Trooper Ennserhofen, and the white-haired young woman with colorless eyes was Trooper Blunt. Both of them gave every appearance of laid-back confidence, and both were just as tense as Torado. But by the time Tal had touched palms with Blunt, she’d made an interesting discovery. It wasn’t meeting the leader of a foreign world that made them nervous; it was being around Captain Serrado. They viewed her with an awe that seemed to leave them tongue-tied.
“Tell me,” she asked the team, “what was the weapon that took out that invader?”
It didn’t surprise her that Roris was the one to answer.
“A Delfin-class torpedo. It’s the biggest thing in our armory. But we were too close to Alsea by the time we got the Voloth’s shields down; we didn’t have time to take it apart with a series of torpedoes.”
Next to her, Torado picked up the thread. “We only had one shot at it, so we had to get that torpedo past the Voloth’s hull before it detonated. That way the entire yield would be inside the ship. And we wanted it inside the armory.”
“Right,” said Roris. “So we used the rail gun to punch an entrance hole for it.”
“A rail gun? That’s what our heavy artillery units use. Though I suspect our projectiles are smaller than yours.”
“We have different types,” Roris said. “Some are larger and carry explosives; some are smaller and used for penetrating hulls and armor plating. We needed the penetrative force, so we used a small one.” She held her hands apart to demonstrate the size. “It carries a small explosive as well, to widen the hole.”
“Let me make sure I understand this,” Tal said. “You punched a tiny hole through the orbital invader with your rail gun projectile. And then you hit that little hole dead center with a torpedo.”
All four of them nodded.
“Impressive accuracy. But wouldn’t punching a hole through the hull result in decompression? It seems as if that would blow your torpedo off target.”
“That’s why it had to be right behind the rail gun projectile,” said Ennserhofen. “The shockwave counteracts the decompression, but only for a piptick.”
“Yes, the timing has to be perfect,” Roris agreed, and they all nodded again.
Tal turned to Captain Serrado. “I see why they’re your best weapons team. That kind of precision must take an enormous amount of practice and effort to achieve.”
“We’ve been together for six stellar years,” Roris said proudly.
“Yes, I know those three so well by now that I can tell them apart by the smell of their—” Torado stopped and turned bright red.
Blunt elbowed him in the ribs. “You idiot,” she whispered.