Genmate Imperiled (Genmate Dilemma Book 3) Page 2

  He wished they’d stayed by the river. No, he wished they were still at the settlement where he could have put her in the med unit on his pod. As the saying went, if wishes were horses…none of this would have happened.

  He doused his T-shirt so he could dab her forehead, face, and neck in a futile attempt to help her feel better. A cool, wet compress could do nothing to eliminate the poison still in her veins. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

  I’m so tired.

  You’re sick. But you can fight this. You’re going to get well. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Rest now. Scaring her about the critical nature of her health served no purpose and might undermine her will to fight.

  I’m not awake, am I?

  No. He didn’t elaborate.

  We can talk when I’m asleep?

  She was comatose, not sleeping, but their telepathic connection transcended everything—except death. You actually reached out to me, he said.

  I did?

  He smiled at her surprise. You did. Our bond is that strong. Rest now. I’ll be here when you’re well. His heart clenched. When she passed, a part of him would die, too.

  * * * *

  Another morning dawned, and he left her side only to relieve himself before rushing back into the MHU. Worry and a sleepless night had exacted a toll. Nauseous and weary, he felt like weights were attached to his limbs. Appetite had vanished; the idea of food caused his queasy stomach to roil. To keep up his strength, so he could take care of Lala, he forced down a few crackers and bites of tinned fruit, along with a couple of mouthfuls of water.

  He examined her wound. Still swollen and yellow, it seeped blood and faint traces of the black substance. He cleaned it and applied a fresh dressing. As he bathed her face, neck, and chest, he assessed her condition overall. Was she still losing scales, or had the shedding slowed? Was her skin any bluer, or had it turned greener? Did her breathing seem stronger? Or weaker? He couldn’t tell anymore. Objectivity had been lost somewhere between hope and despair.

  He stretched out next to her but without touching, to avoid adding his body heat to her fever. He felt warm, too. A clammy sweat dampened skin and clothing.

  Outside, the wind whipped up with a tornado-like roar, shaking the walls of the MHU. Mysk choked on a bitter laugh. They’d suffered through fierce rain, thunder and lightning, a flood, and a solar storm that had rendered electronics useless. All I need is a fucking tornado.

  He dragged himself to his feet to peek out the window. He saw no funnel cloud but a sunny clear sky. It should have been a relief but instead caused despair to lurch in his chest. How could the day look so bright when his genmate was dying?

  No! She’s not. She’s not! She’s going to get through this. She has to.

  Sweating, exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed and held her hand, desperate for the physical contact, and then eased into her mind. She did not greet him as expected, and his panic shot up, until he discovered she was dreaming. He poised at the edge of her dream like a voyeur and watched a child Lala chase her older brother. Chameleon laughed, teasing her by staying out of reach.

  “You’re so mean!” she cried.

  “No, I’m so fast! You’ll never catch me.” He darted away.

  “I will, too. Because one day I’ll grow big and then I’ll catch you.”

  “No, you won’t. Because you’re going to die,” Chameleon said. “Die…die…die…”

  Lala burst into tears. Mysk rushed toward her. Lala! Lala! You’re dreaming. Wake up.

  Chameleon vanished, and the dream misted away, but shock and grief did not dissipate. I’m dying, Mysk.

  No, you’re going to live. You’re going to get better! He wiped blue streaks from her face. Last night blood had begun trickling from her eyes, nose, and ears. He had to roll her onto her side so when she coughed up blood, she didn’t choke.

  He was losing her. Through their psychic connection, he could feel her slipping away. The toxin had spread too much; the damage was too great. Circulation and respiratory systems were shutting down, liver and kidneys failing under the poison’s assault.

  I love you, my genmate, she said.

  His chest clenched as if she’d stabbed him. Don’t say that!

  Don’t tell you I love you? She sounded amused.

  Not when I love you means goodbye.

  It needs to be goodbye. There’s nothing you can do for me. Leave me and find the ’Topi—

  No! I’m not leaving you. Tears slipped from his eyes.

  You have to. How many travel days have you lost because of me? Time is running out to save your people.

  Two days, three, he couldn’t remember. It all blended together, but he didn’t care. If Lala didn’t survive, nothing else mattered. He didn’t want to live without her. And that was one wish that might come true. He’d finally realized his symptoms, the fatigue, the body aches, mirrored hers. He’d been poisoned, too.

  Don’t risk the lives of your people when I’m going to die anyway. I want you to go on, she said.

  Is that an order?

  If it has to be.

  Fortunately, I don’t take orders from you. He saw no reason to tell her he might die, too.

  He scooted near and pulled her close. If he felt feverishly warm, she was producing heat like a furnace. All over, her skin was more yellow than green.

  How much longer did she have? A day? Hours? Pain shot through his heart. He would never forgive himself for the angry accusations and insults, for the harsh way he’d treated her, for not appreciating her when he had the chance.

  “Mysk! Are you in there! Mysk, answer me!” came a shout from outside the MHU.

  Chapter Four

  Mysk bolted outside, afraid he was hallucinating.

  But Jag, his Saberian crewmate, stood there, holding a blaster and wearing an expression of concern. “Are you all right?”

  Mysk’s gaze shot past him to the space pod sitting in the field.

  “You look like herian. Where’s the Xeno?” Jag asked.

  “Put the weapon away. Tell me there’s a med unit on the pod.”

  “Of course! They all have one.”

  “Thank god!”

  “You look like you need a med pod. What the heri—”

  “Stay there.” Mysk dashed into the MHU, wrapped a thermal around Lala, and lifted her into his arms. He staggered under her weight. He’d carried her through the floodwaters with no difficulty, but now he could barely lift her, a testament to his waning strength.

  I’m taking you to a med pod, he told her.

  On your ship? I’ll never make it, Mysk.

  No. There’s one right here.

  Jag widened his eyes as Mysk exited with an unconscious Lala. “I told you to put the blaster away,” Mysk said. “Lala is my genmate.”

  “No shit?”

  “Well, there’s been a lot of shit, but I’ll fill you in later.”

  “She looks worse off than you.” Jag tucked the blaster in his belt.

  “She is.”

  “What the fuck happened to her?”

  “She’s been poisoned.” He staggered toward the space pod and its lifesaving med unit.

  Jag held out his arms. “Let me carry her.”

  No! Don’t touch her! He didn’t want the Saberian’s hands on his genmate, but good sense overruled instinct. Jag was stronger and faster than Mysk on his best day, and today wasn’t one of those days. The space pod was halfway across the field, and every second allowed the poison to wreak more destruction.

  He passed Lala to Jag who bounded across the field at a speed Mysk never could have achieved.

  He staggered to the ship out of breath and exhausted to find Jag had settled Lala on the treatment bed. Slimmer and more compact than what was used on large ships and on land, the med capsule still had all the same diagnostic and treatment capabilities.

  With a couple of keystrokes to the control panel, Jag closed the lid. A transparent cover rolled over the unit, encasing Lala in
side.

  From his pocket, Mysk pulled out the bagged cylinder he’d remembered to grab before leaving the MHU and handed it to Jag. “Analyze this, but treat her first. Hurry!”

  You’re in a med pod, Lala. The scan is about to start.

  “Full diagnostic with emphasis on toxins.” Jag’s fingers flew over the keypad.

  Mysk moved close to the unit to watch the readout.

  The machine whirred and emitted a blue light that swept over Lala from feet to crown then down again. A quiet ticking ensued as the data was analyzed. Then the results began to pop up on the screen. As he’d guessed, she had been poisoned, causing nearly every system to fail.

  Jag sucked in air through his teeth. “I got here in the nick of time.”

  How had he gotten here? The solar storm should have knocked out the pod’s electronics. Explanations could wait. First, he had to know that Lala would be okay.

  It took a volley of injections to treat her. An antidote was formulated and administered as well as a series of drugs to reverse the damage to her organs. Mysk sagged in relief as he watched her vital signs improve and her skin begin to blue.

  Mysk? I…feel…better, Lala said. He could feel her start to emerge from the coma.

  Yes. We got you to the med pod in time. You’re going to awaken soon. Please hold still when you do. The treatment isn’t complete yet.

  Several more injections were delivered, and then the machine rescanned her. Lala’s eyes popped open. Mysk moved closer to the pod. You’re awake! We’re almost done.

  The machine beeped.

  “All done,” Jag said.

  The lid rolled off, and Lala sat up. Mysk helped her out of the pod then pulled her close. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged her, never wanting to let her go. I love you.

  I love you, too.

  Jag cleared his throat.

  They broke apart. Lala tucked the thermal cover tighter and faced the Saberian.

  “Jag, this is Lala. Lala, this is Jag from the Intrepid.” He knew she feared how his crew would react to her. It’s okay, he soothed her. She needn’t fear anything. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her ever again.

  Saberian’s whiskered face broke into a fang-baring grin. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Lala. Congratulations, Mysk! Now, get in the med pod. You need treatment, too.”

  Lala scanned his face. “You don’t look well at all. What happened?”

  “There’s a bit of a story. I’ll explain later.” He climbed in. The sooner he got treated, the sooner he could get some answers.

  * * * *

  Lala felt better than she had in days—better than she had in weeks. She must have been ailing for a while.

  Mysk had tried to mask his concern—and they would have to have a discussion about him hiding information—but she knew she’d been on the verge of death. If the Saberian hadn’t arrived when he had, she would have died. She just wasn’t sure what had caused her illness. Had it really been the water?

  “What happened to me?” she asked, studying his whiskered feline face. Jag was the first Saberian she’d seen in the flesh. She had a faint recollection of him carrying her and running across the field. Had that happened? Or was it a dream?

  “I’d better let Mysk explain that to you, if you don’t mind.” He flashed some serious fangs, but his smile managed to appear friendly and apologetic. “I don’t want to overstep my authority.”

  His long, tensile tail twitched out of the rear of his uniform as he shifted his gaze to the screen. “Hmm…” he muttered in a low growly voice.

  “What does that mean?” Her heart rate spiked. “Is he going to be okay?” Her gaze darted to Mysk. The pod had finished scanning him with a cyan strobe. He lay motionless but then winked, as if to reassure her.

  “He’s going to be fine. Trust me. The med pod fixed you, and he’s nowhere near as bad as you were.”

  “So why the hmmm…”

  “It’s just…that your illnesses originated from the same cause.”

  “Bad water?” she guessed. Mysk had cautioned her against drinking from the pond, but he’d swallowed a lot of water when she’d towed him across the river. Or maybe his disinfection tablets didn’t work.

  “No, it wasn’t a waterborne parasite.”

  “Then what?”

  He flashed another rueful smile. “I can’t tell you that, either.”

  “Because you don’t know? Or because I’m Xeno and you don’t trust me?”

  “Because Mysk is the man in charge, and I report to him. Be patient. He’ll be out in a flash.”

  A robotic arm delivered a couple of injections into Mysk’s thigh. Lala vaguely recalled being jabbed herself. She remembered how ill she’d felt when she’d retired to the MHU but then had no recollection of anything other than the telepathic communications. The warmth from happiness and not fever suffused her at the connections they’d shared. He cared about her. Loved her. Had forgiven her. Had been willing to forsake his people to stay with her. Now, more than ever, she had to contact her ship!

  She frowned. How had Jag managed to land? “Isn’t there still a solar storm going on?”

  “Technically, yes. But...” He held up his hand. “Hold your questions. Mysk will want answers, too.”

  The rescan finished, the machine beeped, and the lid rolled back. Vim and vigor restored, Mysk hopped out.

  “Okay.” Lala planted her hands on her hips. “Will you tell me what the herian happened to us?”

  “You were poisoned.” Mysk motioned, and Jag passed him a small cylinder oozing an oily black substance. “I dug this out of your neck while you were unconscious.”

  Lala clapped a hand to her nape, recalling the inoculation before she’d left Xeno. “I was… vaccinated against alien diseases…I was told…they tried to kill me?”

  Mysk nodded. “The cylinder either started leaking or was activated a few days ago. Further analysis will be conducted on the Intrepid.”

  She was horrified but not surprised. She’d always expected to be executed. But why send her to find the ’Topians if they intended to kill her anyway? And what about Mysk? She widened her eyes. “But you…Jag said we suffered from the same illness?”

  Expression grim, Mysk nodded. “After I removed the cylinder, I sucked out as much of the toxin from you as I could. I got poisoned in the process.” He turned to his crew member. “I’m so grateful you’re here, but why are you here? How did you get through with the solar storms?”

  “About that…there’s been an interesting development. I think I got another piece of the puzzle.” Jag glanced at Lala.

  “Anything you say to me, you can say in front of Lala. I trust her.”

  She already knew their relationship had changed for the better, but to hear those words meant the galaxy to her.

  “Well, when we moved the Intrepid to the other side of Laxiter 4 to escape the solar storm, we found a Xeno ship...”

  “My ship!” Lala said.

  “At the time, we only knew a Xeno vessel was hailing us.”

  “Rayo contacted you?” That was totally outside of the parameters of his programming and orders.

  “Rayo?”

  “That’s my AI. What did he say?”

  “We didn’t answer to avoid revealing who we are or where we came from.” The Saberian turned to Mysk. “But at that point, we realized the ’Topian woman our initial scan detected on the surface was really a Xeno. Shortly after being hailed by the AI, we discovered there would be a break in the solar storm, during which time we could use our electronics. As soon as we could, we locked onto your life signature and discovered you were with her, and the two of you had strayed pretty far from the settlement area. We got concerned. We pinged your handheld but got no response.”

  “I never powered it up. I had no way of knowing a break in the solar storm had occurred.”

  Jag nodded. “We’d figured something like that, but there was the other scenario…”

  “That I might have been t
aken hostage?” Mysk asked.

  “Yeah. We decided we might need to extract you. In the event the rescue required some muscle…” Jag spread his hands and flashed his fangs in a toothy smile. “Since we had the ability to scan, we homed in on your location, I hopped in a space pod, and here I am. I assume since you’re together and everything is okay, you’re ready to return to the ship?”

  Mysk shook his head. “We haven’t located the ’Topians yet. I found a baby’s shoe, so I know they’re here—or were at one time. It’s possible they may have left, but I believe they’re still here. They’ve had no reason to leave—until now.”

  Jag’s face lit up, but then he drew his brows together. “So, why didn’t our scan detect them?”

  “Because they relocated some distance away,” he said.

  “According to my AI, there’s a cave system that could provide shelter, but the mineral composition blocks scanners, so you can’t get a good read,” Lala explained.

  “We were headed to the caves when Lala became ill. We still have to find them,” Mysk said.

  Jag ducked his head and scratched his neck. “I have to ask…um, you two are genmates and are simpatico, but…Lala, what about your ship? What about the other Xenos aboard?”

  “There is no one else. It’s just me—and Rayo.”

  Jag arched his eyebrows in skepticism. “You came alone?”

  “She did,” Mysk confirmed without hesitation.

  Lala realized he believed her unconditionally. Maybe now, he’d listen to her. “At the risk of being repetitive, if I can contact Rayo, I can buy the time we need since we lost several days while I was sick.”

  “You’re right. I should have listened to you,” Mysk said. “How long can you stall him?”

  “Indefinitely.” She shrugged. “But to be safe, let’s assume a couple of weeks.”

  “Stall the AI? Safe? What are you trying to do?” Jag asked.

  “Lala had an arrangement with her AI. If she didn’t report in, he would report to the High Council she’d gone MIA—at which point they would send a ship to investigate.” He paused, rubbing his nape. “We have to stop that transmission, but how? She lost her handheld in a flood. Beak could patch through a relay between us here and the AI, but we’d reveal everything we want to keep secret.” He looked at Lala. “We’ll have to find a way to cross the river, again.”