A Broken Fighter on Bloody Sands by Rene Astle

Author:Rene Astle [Rene Astle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Armchair Alien
Published: 2023-10-22T00:00:00+00:00

23: Halcyon

"Doctor Sorkin." Halcyon examined the geneticist as he stepped into the exam room. He swallowed but barely a flicker of surprise passed over his face.

"Archon." He glanced around. "I was expecting a ..." He studied his tablet, although she was certain he knew his daily patient list by heart. "Samina Makter"

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him marshal his reactions. His unflappable demeanour was one of the reasons she hadn't had him eliminated when he'd first mentioned the Song of Death — only an elite few in the Dominion were supposed to know about the pre-Exodus treatise on biological weapons and disease. An opus presumed lost forever since it hadn't been discovered on any of the great treasure ships. The only one that had been left was the Celeste.

"The Lieutenant was called away. Your receptionist was kind enough to let me take her spot." Halcyon straightened her mantel with a shaking hand as he coughed. "I'd like to continue our last conversation."

His head jerked up. "You've found it, then?"

It was her turn to clear her throat. "No." Her brow furrowed as her thoughts turned back to the Celeste, and its empty data banks and hold full of gems and precious metals, but not the one treasure she sought. "I had a lead." Her lips pursed; she'd only shared the discovery of the last treasure ship with her inner circle ... and Doctor Sorkin was not in that group. He might be unflappable, but he was also greedy. She forced her face smooth. "It didn't pan out. So, I need to know the latest test results." Well aware of the discomfort her icy gaze could cause, she focused on him, unblinking.

He shifted his attention to his tablet. "The latest tests show little change." His fingers flicked through screens of charts.

"But there is a change." Anger flared in her chest — she knew the change only went one direction. Pain lanced through her abdomen, and she clenched her muscles against it.

Sorkin glanced at her and nodded. "The last treatment didn't take."

"So, what do you suggest we do?"

"There's nothing more I can do." His voice was surprisingly level, sympathetic even, given she was one of the most powerful people in the Dominion. "We don't know the cause of the disease. That it's genetically keyed is even a guess given those affected."

"Me, you mean."

"There may be others," he said but tipped his chin, conceding the point. "The only other clue is that the symptoms match fragments of text from this Song, and its recipes for death."

Her jaw pulsed. "So, you're saying you can't help me anymore." She was running out of doctors she could trust. Even Sorkin she'd only trust because of his illicit knowledge of the Song.

"I can do nothing more without another avenue to pursue. Not without additional information." His shoulders shrugged, a move she found too casual. "Maybe try the Sisters."

Her cheeks flushed. "I can't go to the Sisters."

"Why not?" He tapped a thumb on his tablet. "They have a depth of arcane knowledge.

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