Page 70 of Invasive Species
“Huh?” I look up into his face.
“You lost consciousness.”
“I had a power nap,” I mumble.
Ellen dumps lots of blankets by the tent entrance. “Great. Us mammals will be warm enough now.”
“I’ll warm you,” Ilia says staunchly, dismissing the blankets with a wave of his hand. It's cute, and even cuter is Ellen melting a little looking at him.
My view of them gets blocked when Gara looms over me, laying a hand on my forehead. “You’re too hot,” he accuses me.
“I know I am,” I say, flirty despite aching all over. “But, actually, I feel cold,” I admit quietly.
I reach for his hand, but he's already fiddling at his belt and brandishes the scanner over me.
I rush to swat it away. “Hey, whoa now, that's the dinosaur making machine.”
“It’s my diagnostic tool.” Easily holding it up out of my reach, he points it at me and watches the read-out like it’ll tell him his fortune. I don’t need to be a mind-reader, though, to interpret Gara’s stricken face.
“What’s the matter?” I say. Or, at least, I try to say. Even to my ears it’s a treacle-slow, garbled mess, and my vision swims green as Gara rushes to scoop me up.
Oh shit.
TWENTY-TWO
GARA
I raceout of the tent, Arra-bellah bouncing against my chest. She’s too limp, the energy that makes her spark with every breath gone. Tightening my grip on her, I head straight for the new ship and the advanced—and importantly, not broken—systems on board.
Ilia doesn’t question my actions, sprinting silently alongside me and helping to wake the ship, Arture following. The central pillar glows gold as the ship's systems wake, couches circling the outside. This is a female's pleasure ship, so the health station is through the door next to the galley kitchen.
Once the door slides open, I lay Arra-bellah down on the ship’s comfortable couch. This is a luxury interstellar private craft, with no expenses spared on its features. Including, I hope, it's med scanners.
"AI medic, wake up. Full scans, full panels, now!" My voice cracks in a way I hate, but I have no time for that.
The ship responds immediately, red lights flickering to life as diagnostic panels unfold around her.
“She collapsed,” I force out, keeping my focus on the task at hand. “She said she felt cold, but she’s far too hot for ahuman. If her proteins denature, if her organs shut down… she’ll—” My chest tightens.
No.No.I am a medic. She won’t get anywhere close to perishing. I will save her.
My senses narrow to her and the diagnostics panels that slide out to give me the scans, honing in on every detail, the sound of her ragged breaths, the rapid flashes of the diagnostic screens as each result comes in. The numbers don’t make sense.
“Her parameters are… way off,” I murmur. “I need a control.”
“I’ll help,” Ellen says quickly. Her face is drawn, hand clutching Ilia’s, but determination burns behind her eyes. Of course she followed her friend.
“Lie down, El-len. Now.” I don’t even look up, my eyes glued to the screens. My hands clench as I direct the AI to take the other human’s samples. It works efficiently, displaying her readings alongside Arra-bellah’s. I sift through them, scanning each system, comparing, calculating.
Mental activity: similar. Digestive function: within parameters. Skeletal markers: negligible differences. But then I reach results that set my pulse racing.
Arra-bellah’s endocrine system is in chaos, her hormone levels spiking off the charts. Her immune system is in overdrive, attacking something I can’t see. Something she can’t fight off.
“Drok na,” I hiss under my breath.
“What’s wrong with her?” El-len’s voice cracks, but I don’t have answers.
“She’s having an extreme immune response to something, but I can’t see it.” My mind races through every possibility.
