A Closed and Common Orbit (Wayfarers #2)(90)

Jane missed whatever else the Aandrisk said. ‘Where’s Laurian?’ she blurted. ‘Where’s Owl?’

The Aandrisk blinked, yellow eyes disappearing behind blue-green lids. ‘I don’t know who Owl is. Laurian’s fine. He’s in quarantine. You are, too, technically, but he didn’t require medical care.’

Too many thoughts. Jane shook her head. Her brain wasn’t working right, and everything ached, and none of this made sense. One thing at a time, Owl would say. ‘Where am I?’

‘You’re in the medical ward at the Han’foral Lookout Station,’ he said, pulling over a backless chair. He sat, sleeved tail draping down behind him. ‘My name’s Ithis. I’m one of the doctors here.’

Jane pulled his words in, held them close, turned them over. A Lookout Station. ‘We made it,’ she whispered.

The Aandrisk nodded. ‘Yeah. You made it.’

Jane leaned back into the pillow, slowly. The moment felt nothing like what she’d imagined. She felt . . . empty. Quiet. She looked again to the suckers in her arm. ‘What – what are these?’

‘Your name is Jane, right?’

She nodded. Holy shit, she was talking to an alien.

‘Jane, you’ve been suffering from a bacterial disease previously unknown to science – congratulations – on top of a severe case of long-term malnutrition and a broad assortment of other maladies. We figured out pretty fast that your immune system is . . . atypical. But as deficient as you were in just about everything you need to stay healthy, there’s no way your natural defences could keep up. You had superficial wounds that hadn’t healed properly, fungal growths under your nails, different fungal growths in your oesophagus, and an amazing variety of precancerous polyps on and around your liver and kidneys, which I’m assuming were the result of the high levels of heavy metals and industrial waste products we found floating around your bloodstream.’ His face was hard to read, but he looked emotional. ‘You’re the sickest patient I’ve ever treated.’

Jane took that in. ‘Okay,’ she said, ‘but what are these?’ She waved her sucker-covered arm at him.

‘Those,’ Ithis said, ‘distribute medicine through your system. As well as nutrients, in your case. We’ve scrubbed all the junk out of your blood, and you’ve got imubots now.’ He pointed to the patch on her wrist. ‘Your body’s undergone a lot of damage, but we’re giving you as fresh a start as we can.’ The Aandrisk made a weird almost-smile, and spoke the words she’d been waiting to hear: ‘You’re going to be fine.’

Jane had more questions, but another person walked in – a Human woman, also clad in a biosuit. The doctor gestured to her. ‘Jane, this is Teah Lukin, a legal counsellor for the GC. She normally works in trade law, not immigrant cases, but she was the closest Human GC representative to us, and we thought having someone of your own species around might make this whole process easier. She’s here to help you and Laurian get started.’

The woman approached Jane’s bedside and touched her hand. It was a gesture Jane should have liked, but she didn’t. She didn’t know why. She just didn’t. Jane studied the woman’s face behind her thick protective helmet. This woman had been a girl once, but Jane couldn’t see that. She couldn’t see anything she recognised. This Human was every bit as alien as the scaly guy sitting beside her.

‘Hello, Jane,’ Counsellor Lukin said. She had a weird accent. ‘You probably don’t remember me. I came to you a tenday ago, but you were too sick to properly speak. I’m so glad you’re feeling better now.’

Jane frowned. If this woman had been there ten days ago – what kind of days, anyway; did she mean standard days? – and they’d had to send for her from somewhere else, then . . . ‘How long have I been here?’

‘Nearly four tendays,’ the doctor said gently.

Jane swallowed. Huh, she thought. ‘Where’s Owl?’

Counsellor Lukin looked at Ithis. He shrugged at her, subtly, as if Jane wouldn’t see. ‘Who’s Owl?’ Lukin asked. Jane wasn’t sure how Humans out here were supposed to sound, but something about this one’s tone was a little too nice.

‘She’s in my ship,’ Jane said. Both of the biosuited people looked blank. ‘The AI in my ship.’ Counsellor Lukin and Ithis looked at each other again. Jane sat up as tall as she could, even though it was work. ‘Where’s my ship?’

‘Jane,’ the Human woman said with a big smile. Jane had got nothing but sim smiles for years, and yet this was the fakest she’d ever seen. ‘You’ve been very sick, and there’s a lot for you to take in. Today, I think it’d be a good idea for you to get some rest, take it slow—’

Jane glared. ‘Where’s – my – ship?’

Counsellor Lukin sighed. ‘Jane, the thing you need to understand is that in the GC, there are strict laws concerning space travel. Space is dangerous, especially out in the open. Our laws keep people safe. Your ship . . . your ship wasn’t very safe, Jane. Its internal components racked up dozens of transport code violations, and it was flying on improperly recycled fuel, which is both illegal and highly hazardous.’ She laughed. ‘I don’t know where you found that thing, but—’