Beyond (23 page)

“How exactly are you going to help them?” Zak challenged. “There is no cure, and you sure can’t find one.”

Salvan’s face grew red. He clutched the aluminum portfolio tight to his chest with one arm and the other pointed at Zak. “I’ll be alive yet. That’s more than you will be able to say.”

“But you just told me the disease is retreating inside me.”

“A fluke,” Salvan barked. “Your fate is inevitable.”

“I think I would like the opinion of another scientist.”

Aimee watched the verbal volley, but she was distracted by the portfolio clutched to Salvan’s chest. It was metallic and reflective—reflective enough to act as a mirror.

“Salvan—”

“They are all busy right now.” Salvan continued his debate with Zak, ignoring her.

“Salvan—”

“You just don’t want to face the truth.”

“Salvan—”

“What?” he cried with wild eyes aimed at her.

Aimee nodded her head. “What is that you are holding?”

Salvan glanced down.
“My notes, of course.”

“Can I see them?”

“Absolutely not.”
Pale eyebrows vaulted.

“Well,” she hesitated, “could you just lower that case for a moment?”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about, but we don’t have any time for these absurdities.”

“Salvan.”
A sense of calm possessed her. “Put your notes down on the table.”

Zak caught her eye. She saw curiosity there, but with the brief tip of her head she saw enlightenment bloom.

“Put the notes down,” Zak ordered.

Salvan glanced back and forth between them, and then finally to his assistant who stood rapt in the corner. She edged back a step.

Expelling a curse that Aimee could not translate, Salvan slammed the portfolio onto the table. The loud clap of metal against metal startled her, but she realized with dismay that her hunch was correct. A red band dissected Salvan’s suit, making his abdomen glow. He glanced down at it in dismay, and then he shouted at the assistant. “Give me the bracelet.”

She gawked at his stomach, her mouth agape.

“What are you staring at? You’ll be looking like this any day now.”

Tears welled up in the corner of the young woman’s eyes and Aimee wanted to punch Salvan.

“You don’t know that. You just said Zak was getting better.”

“
No
one is getting better.
No one.”
He looked slightly rabid, and then his eyebrows dipped in consideration.
“Except for one.”

“One?”
She and Zak asked simultaneously.

Reluctant to respond, Salvan grabbed his portfolio and flipped it open, his finger skimming the interior and his lips flowing as he recited the figures.

“Gordy.”
The young woman inserted with a tremulous voice.
“Gordeelum, the boy.”

Salvan glared at her, but the young woman took one last fortifying glance at his chest and then squared her shoulders. “Everyone on this ship has been tested and
all
have shown the initial traces of the disease," she explained. "Progression has been on schedule, with some more accelerated than others.” She paused.
“Except for Gordy.
He tested positive initially, but the follow-up test showed nearly no trace of the disease. He is locked in a chamber nearby.” Her eyes fell to the ground. “He’s very scared.”

“Oh, poor Gordy,” Aimee cried. “You can’t keep him alone. He must be terrified.”

“He must be tested!” Salvan shouted. “His genetic composition could hold a potential antidote. He must be a deviant. He needs to be kept in a sterile place and above all, he cannot come in contact with anyone infected…which is everyone.”

Slipping the bracelet on his wrist, Salvan waited listlessly until it lit up and then yanked the device off, cursing the readout. He hurled the ring across the room where it rolled on its side and warbled into a resting place on the obsidian floor. Stooping to pick it up, the woman swiped her light brown hair back from her eye.

“I am Corin.”

She did not offer her hand. Aimee wasn’t even sure they had that gesture here.

“Hello, Corin. I am Aimee and that is—”

“Zak.” Corin blushed. “I don’t think there is anyone on the Horus that wouldn’t know Zak.”

Salvan snorted in disgust.

Zak shook his head. Seated with his hands gripping the edge of the aluminum table, his bunched shoulders revealed his tension. He was an attractive man, but right now the most appealing feature was his chest and the red glow that was fading back into the black uniform.

“Zak,” she gasped.
“Your suit.”

Startled, he looked down, splaying his hand across the dark fabric.

“We need to test you again.” Corin extended the bracelet, waiting for Zak to thrust his hand through it.

He hesitated and slipped his hand through the green bangle. It lit up like a band of Kryptonite until Corin drew it off. As she held the device up to the light, Aimee was aware of the collective pause of breath. Corin slowly smiled.

“It’s clear.” Her smile grew.
“Completely clear!”

Zak looked like he had been slapped. His head jerked back. “Test Aimee,” he ordered.

Aimee held her hand out aware that her fingers shook. Corin looked sympathetic as she slid the bracelet over those trembling fingers. The band pulsed with a vibrant green glow, but Aimee felt nothing.

“It’s clear, Aimee.” Corin’s eyes were wide with the prospect of salvation.

Zak launched off the table and hauled Aimee up into his arms. She clung to him. He was going to be okay. He was going to live. Her knees buckled under the magnitude of the notion, but Zak held her so tight she didn’t fall.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered against her ear.

Salvan charged forward and wrenched the tool from Corin’s hand. He grabbed the woman's slim arm and forced her fingers through the ring. Corin tried to lurch from his grasp. Zak stepped forward, seizing Salvan by the shoulder, hauling him back with enough force to slam the crazed man against the wall.

“What does it say?” Salvan cried, undeterred.

Zak sealed him to the wall as he struggled to peer around Zak’s shoulder.

Aimee was so consumed by the men wrestling in the corner she barely heard Corin’s muted cry. She turned to find the woman with her hand up over her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at the readout on the green hoop.

“Corin?”

Bright blue eyes met hers. The anguish in them told Aimee what she didn’t want to hear.

“The disease is advancing in me,” Corin stated, crushed. She added a nervous laugh. “I guess it was a little too much to hope that there was a sudden adaptation to this virus.”

“Oh, Corin.” Aimee put her arms around the woman, thinking how slight her frame felt. “It can still turn around.”

“The entire ship needs to be retested,” Salvan ordered, struggling against Zak’s grip. Zak was bigger and it took little effort on his part to keep Salvan restrained.

“Corin,” Salvan continued, but saw that the woman was disconsolate and not even listening.

“JOH!” he barked, wriggling his arm free to tap the screen.

JOH’s blue face appeared with alert black eyes, absorbing the scene.

“Everyone on the Horus needs to be analyzed immediately.” Salvan shouted.

“Tests were run just an hour ago.” JOH pointed out.

“Now!”
Salvan’s eyes bulged as his chest
throbbed
a vicious red flare. “It can’t be that only three people on this god-forsaken ship are safe from this curse.”

JOH blinked.

“Now!”

“I will see to it.” JOH floated away.

“And you two need to be quarantined.” He glared at Aimee as he specified this. She shivered under that crazed stare.

“Corin,” Salvan continued his dictation, disregarding his restraint. “Take them to the BX lab. It is sterile and unoccupied.”

“That’s your research lab.” She pointed out, still flustered by grief.

“Did it sound like I was asking for an opinion?” Salvan finally shrugged off Zak’s hold, only because Zak allowed him to.

Zak addressed Corin. “Will someone oversee this?”

The words,
someone sane
were implied.

She nodded. “Yes, there is a group of scientists supervising the official testing. Several physicians are still healthy enough to make the rounds at Jay-nine to assure everyone is—” she swallowed, “—comfortable.”

“And what about you?”
Zak asked with compassion. “Where will you go from here?”

Corin twirled the thermometer in her hands. “I—I can help with the testing for a little while. I will be in the labs if you should need me. My symptoms won’t become apparent or debilitating for a couple of days yet.”

Aimee wanted to know how the disease manifested itself, but she had the wretched premonition that she would witness the signs firsthand.

“Follow me,” Corin instructed.

Aimee cast one last cynical glance at Salvan. He was engrossed with his tablet and scratching his hair. Not a casual scratch. His pointer finger dug in like a hook with enough effort to draw blood. It disturbed her. She opened her mouth to say something, but Zak shook his head and whispered, “Leave him be.”

“Corin,” Zak said. “I want to see Vodu.”

Corin fretted at the notion. “If you are battling this disease…and winning,” she hesitated, “why would you want to subject yourself to that, or even risk jeopardizing yourself?”

It marveled Aimee to see Zak’s strong conviction. The measured look he gave Corin was patient and resolved.

“It has already been established that physical contact and proximity play no role in transmitting this virus,” he reminded. “It is airborne, and at a velocity that we can’t calculate. So if I go to the Jay-nine, it will have no greater impact than if I was to remain standing here.”

Corin tilted her head. She sought a valid argument, but became distracted by the glow of her own chest. With her face still cast down, she nodded, defeated. “You will excuse me if I don’t accompany you. I don’t want to go there…just yet.”

“I understand.” Zak’s voice was solemn. He turned toward Aimee. As soon as their eyes met, his pained expression eased. He reached out and rubbed her arm. “I’ll be back soon.”

No!

“I’m going with you,” she whispered.

That declaration pained him. “You don’t want to go there. You don’t want to see it. Stay here.”

“Compromise with me.
Come with me to see Gordy and then I’ll go with you to the Jay-nine.”

Zak frowned, but a grin tugged at his lips. “I fail to see how that is a compromise if you’re getting both things that you want.”

She couldn’t help it. She had to laugh. “You really haven’t been around women much, have you?”

“No. But I already know you well enough to realize I’m not going to rationalize my way out of this debate.” He paused and then added, “Dammit.”

The impulse to reach up on her toes and kiss him was strong, and he seemed to read that in her eyes. His own smoldered.

“If I said no, you would just stow away, wouldn’t you?”

“I would,” she affirmed.

“Alright, but we have to hurry,” Zak urged.

Aimee took the cue and stepped up to Corin, holding the woman’s arms. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be if more recovery cases are identified like both of yours.” She smiled weakly.

“There will be!” Aimee squeezed Corin’s arms.

"I have to stay here as long as I can," Corin explained, her eyes darting towards the hunched figure in the corner.

Salvan was speaking to JOH and paid no heed to them. He was a demented man lost in a battle he would never win.

"Gordy is two doors down on the left."

"Thank you, Corin. We will be back soon."

***

Two doors down, Zak waved his hand to unlock the chamber. It was a sterile room similar to the one they had just been in. It contained an elevated table and a spherical chair tucked into the corner. White counter space with transparent cabinets accommodated decanters of mystical colors. At first Aimee thought they had the wrong place. It appeared to be empty. Then she took a step around the pedestal and located the young boy sitting cross-legged on the floor. He held a JOH down on his lap and let loose a faint giggle at whatever joke the blue character had just cracked.

Aimee cleared her throat and Gordy's head jerked up. His shoulders quaked slightly, but the blessed sight was his clear silver uniform.

"Hi," he said, watching her curiously.

"Hi Gordy."
She smiled.

Zak walked up behind her as Gordy's eyes grew wide—wide enough she could see the lights of the ceiling flicker there.

"Zak!"