Dana Cartwright Mission 1: Stiletto (31 page)

That made her search even harder, because she had two possible donors to find.

She sighed and meditated, troubled by the possibilities. Just as her father’s identity was a secret to protect him, was her mother’s also a secret to protect her?

Station Four’s genetics lab held the answer.

Korwin stuck his head out from his apartment, nodded to Dana, and then came out with a blanket throw and fell into the chair beside her.

“You okay?” She whispered, seeing the trauma etched on his face.

“No,” he mumbled, but did not elaborate. He shivered and pulled the blanket closer while commenting, “Great landing today.”

“My first real landing,” she said with a grin.

“First of many,” he assured. “We should celebrate.” He sighed. “Maybe after the assembly tomorrow we can have dinner at The Viewery.”

Dana scowled. “Another assembly?”

“You haven’t checked your messages,” Korwin teased.

“Oh, I did, but I saw nothing about an assembly.”

“Looks as if some upperclassmen are going with
Starlight
to the rendezvous with the Imperials.”

Dana shrugged.

“You heard my father’s lamentation on the matter,” Korwin scowled. “He thinks the Alphan delegation will walk out of the Republic council meeting in protest. And that ruins all my future plans.”

“How so?” Dana scrambled to sit up, setting her padlet aside.

“I’ll be forced to withdraw my transfer request to medical school.”

“On Earth, maybe, but there are plenty of other medical schools, Korwin,” she countered. “Some are better, actually.”

He scoffed, “Nor for my purposes.”

“And that would be?”

“Following in my hero’s footsteps,” he grinned at her.

She just shook her head, and then blushed, realizing he was talking about her.

Korwin stared off at the sky for a time then added, “I refuse to attend the Galaxean one.”

“I concur,” she said. “You’re right, you need to stay here for medical school. Maybe Doctor Ankara can…”

“If he survives the Imperial rendezvous. My father thinks it is all a trap. I do, too.”

Dana blinked. “We certainly live in interesting times.”

“Every generation says that,” Korwin grumbled.

“Yes, well, they didn’t have Imperials and Castellans demanding the Republic make concessions,” Dana reminded, sliding back under her blanket.

Korwin fell silent.

“You’ll be okay,” Dana counseled.

“Thank you, my friend.”

“Wake me in the morning?”

He chuckled. “I tried this morning, but you weren’t even here. You could have told me… Or left a message. I was worried.”

“I’ll be here in the morning, I promise.”

He stalled for a bit then jumped up. “It certainly was an eventful day.”

She answered, “Aye. Good night, PK.”

He chuckled. “Good night, DD.”

Dana watched him go inside, trailing his blanket. The interior lights winked out not long after. She gathered up her padlet, took another look at the image of her father in his Star Service uniform, affectionately touching the edge of his chin, admitting, “It certainly was an eventful day, week and month.”

She looked to the East. “Too early for the moonrise,” she decided, and feeling exhaustion she clung to her padlet a moment longer, closing her eyes, sensing her father staring out at the stars, dazedly thinking of her, too.

“Goodnight, Commander.”

She sensed him smiling but his brain function — or the N-link blocking her reception — made it impossible to sense a response.

Yet just the thought of a connection gave her satisfaction. “Have to experiment with this skill,” she decided. “Maybe Korwin can help me.”

She gathered up everything and slipped inside, ignoring the viewer and the new blinking message light until after changing into a sleeping gown.

She listened to the Academy instructions about the assembly but deleted it. A second message was from the DNA lab. It shocked her down into the chair.

“Your DNA has mutated to a quaternary state. You no longer fit the profile of an Enturian/Galaxean hybrid. Rather, your DNA has mutated into a drastically new species. Further lab evaluation is necessary. You should come in for…”

Dana instinctively countered, “No! You’re not going to turn me into a…lab rat like Puff.”

She tapped the delete key before reading to the end of the proposal.

“No wonder they sealed my birth records. I’d be a vivisection subject. Or worse…a victim! DOC warned me!”

Dana shuddered and did her best to put all the horrible imaginings of it out of her mind as she shut the viewer down for the night.

She dreamt of Puff, soft white furry Puff, running the maze that Kieran and his brothers created. The dream turned nightmarish when she found a horde of lab techs, mostly Galaxeans, chasing her through the maze of corridors at the stadium where she’d been stabbed during the Meeting of the Masters closing ceremonies.

The twist at the end of the dream kept her from going back to sleep.

She stared up at the ceiling tiles until dawn, got ready for class, even having time for a second cup of tea before Korwin came over.

Dana noticed he hadn’t slept well, either.

Before she could ask he volunteered, “I couldn’t sleep. Too worried I guess.”

She slung the strap of her med-kit over her shoulder, slipped her padlet in and then they went out to the corridor and to the lift, heading for the tram.

They waited only a short time. It was empty.

“Are we late?” She quipped.

“Apparently…”

Two men, wearing Star Service uniforms with ensign insignia, nodded to Korwin and took seats behind them. Dana guessed they were his new security detail.

At the campus, the ensigns fell into step with them and some other stragglers. Just as they started up the steps to the auditorium, Korwin pulled at Dana’s sleeve.

“Check my right eye, please?”

She stared for a moment then got out her scanner from her med-kit and they stepped aside.
 

Korwin whispered, “One of my guardsmen just signaled to wait. Not sure why.”

Dana hadn’t noticed any signal, but as she checked Korwin’s eyes she realized, “You’ve got some blood in the aqueous humor. After assembly, we should visit the infirmary and do a full scan. You may be experiencing rejection syndrome.”

“It’s been hurting all morning…burning,” Korwin said. “I agree… Feels scratchy now.”

Dana frowned. “Maybe our flight yesterday was a bad idea — too much eye strain.”

“You did most of the flying,” he reminded. Then he bowed to her. “Okay, just got the all clear signal. Stay close once we’re inside. Don’t know what’s up.”

Dana nodded, stored her scanner in the med-kit, and then fell into step beside him. There were no seats vacant and only standing room near certain faculty members.

One of the Ensigns from the security detail stayed close. The other moved to a higher location from which he could watch the crowd.

The C-in-C was just approaching the podium and everyone was called to attention, standing stiffly until he signaled ‘at ease.’

“Watch Cartwright,” Korwin whispered into Dana’s ear.

She had already noticed the Admiral’s changed demeanor.

Korwin reached inside his uniform and pulled his N-link off over his head, handing it to Dana. His eyes were shut tightly and his face registered pain… and something more.

She held his N-link in her left hand and wearing her own, she could not sense more. They dampened her empathic abilities completely.

Korwin’s face drained of color. He put out his right palm against the wall for support and seemed to slouch.

Dana reacted when the security officer slipped an arm about Korwin’s middle to steady him. She touched both with her left hand, tapped her voice-badge with her right, and demanded, “Emergency transfer, three to MCW! Stat!”

The MAT pod beam instantly engulfed them. Only a few nearby faculty members seemed to notice.

Dana went into action the moment they materialized in the decontamination chamber and the Medical Center West ER staff doctor asked the situation.

“Possible rejection syndrome, post-ophthalmologic transplant.” She called off other statistics as she and the security officer helped Korwin onto the diagnostic bed. “Alphan male, age nineteen…”

“Pain’s excruciating,” Korwin told her, his face contorted.

“Trust me,” she whispered and immediately administered a pain medication via DIA-dermal injector, which put him instantly to sleep.

“Cartwright, Dana J.” She told the computer to log in.

The ER doctor immediately responded, “Oh, you’re DOC’s girl. How nice… I know him well.”

He was an old-school, white-haired, brown-eyed human. “Rutherford,” he said in introduction.

She frowned, blurting out, “Are you going to help or socialize?”

He led into the first exam room, leaving Dana and the security officer to push the exam table into position. Finally, two ANs appeared, waiting for orders.

Dana did an eye exam of both Korwin’s new, transplanted eye and the other blue one. “This isn’t transplant rejection. Both eyes are affected.”

Rutherford ambled over and reviewed the readings for some time. “Seems within normal ranges.”

“For a human! Not for an Alphan,” Dana grumbled. She ordered the ANs to administer another medication, and then turned on Rutherford. “Is Doctor Johns on campus? He assisted with the transplant and knows the patient’s history.” She hated to be so blunt, but he was not being helpful.

Rutherford immediately left the exam room.

Dana looked to the security officer. “I think Prince Korwin has been poisoned.”

“That’s not possible.”

“I said, I think it is poison. Order an investigation. Someone may have accessed his apartment while we were gone yesterday. Also, contact his father, please.”

Dana gave the man all of two seconds before shouting, “That’s an order!”

The security officer took a few steps aside and tapped his voice-badge.

Dana focused on Korwin, treating both his eyes for alkali chemical exposure, doing irrigation with saline solutions, and then testing again for ph balance.

She ordered the ANs to prep a C-FIIN for him to be made more comfortable and moved aside, reviewing the eye scans while they worked. The fluorescein test showed no corneal abnormalities. She felt satisfied he would be fine.

Once he was prepped, and the ANs had him stable, she ran a test on the fluids to determine the substance.

“Hmm, trisodium phosphate…” She fretted, hoping his eyesight was not in jeopardy.

When Doctor Johns came in, she showed him the evidence.

He scowled deeply. “This was deliberate?”

Dana shrugged. “Can’t be certain.”

Johns checked the vital signs. “Best to keep him sedated. That will be painful. I think we should admit.”

Dana shook her head. “I need to hear from Ambassador Kord first.”

Johns suggested moving him to a private room.

She hated to admit, “We may have to transfer to a more secure location off-world.”

As they spoke, the security officer approached. “Ambassador Kord is asking if his son can be secured here. With all the turmoil in the Republic right now…”

Doctor Johns nodded. “Let’s keep him here, at least overnight.”

Dana nodded. “I’ll stay.”

Johns did the admit order and one of the two ANs pushed the coffin down the corridor to a private room, with both doctors and the security officer trailing.

Once inside, Johns took Dana aside. “Not sure what you said to Doctor Rutherford, but he was quite riled.”

“He brought up my guardian, DOC, and I snapped at him. I had a patient on the table and he wanted to chat.”

“Yeah, he has a habit of doing that, even in the OR. I’ll note that in my report.”

Dana sighed. “He did not realize this is a Prince of the Elect, son of the Alphan Ambassador, and we had just done an emergency transport from the Academy.”

Johns understood. Then he did a check of vital signs. “Ph balance is still too low.”

Dana named the chemical in Korwin’s tears. “What’s that used for?”

“Trisodium phosphate? It’s a heavy duty cleaning compound.”

Dana frowned. “I don’t recall it from chemistry class.”

“I believe it’s on the banned compounds list, under the alternative TSP.”

That name she did remember. “How would Korwin come in contact with that?”

Johns shrugged. “Someone used it for cleaning and there were fumes perhaps?”

The security officer caught Dana’s attention. “Sir? Ambassador Kord is coming.”

Dana nodded. She ran another test on the transplanted eye and discussed with Johns the possibility of rejection syndrome.

“The med you chose should resolve that issue. Let me run some blood work.” Johns set about programming the coffin.

Both doctors turned, hearing the sound of a MAT pod, and saw the Ambassador and three men arrive.

Kord rushed to his son but did not touch him or say a word.

Dana watched the Ambassador. It seemed to her that he was meditating or praying.

Without lifting his eyes from his son, the Ambassador asked, “Do you have his N-link?”

Dana answered, “Yes, sir.”

“He needs to wear it.”

“Right now it would affect our diagnostic readings. I’ll see to it that it is returned.”

That seemed to satisfy.

“How long?”

Doctor Johns suggested, “Just overnight, until we’re sure the ph balance in his eyes is back to normal.”

Dana added, “He’ll experience a great deal of pain. We need to administer some drops at regular intervals.” She looked to the Ambassador for a response.
 

Doctor Johns interrupted, “Do you wish to transfer your son to another location?”

“Is he safe here overnight?”

Dana answered, “I cannot guarantee that, sir, after what happened to Ambassador Cray.
 
However, I will stay with him.”

The Ambassador folded his fingers together. “You’ve been a good friend to my son. Thank you, Doctor Cartwright.”

“He’s been a good friend to me,” Dana returned.

“The situation right now is tenuous. If you would keep him here and keep him safe, I would be grateful.”