Eternity Row by S. L. Viehl Page B

handed Reever his tunic. “Which is improbable, if not completely impossible.”
    Squilyp hopped over to the scanner and had a look. “I can’t see any formative abnormalities. Even the arterial connections are exactly where they should be.”
    “That in itself belongs on the impossible list.” Seeing Duncan’s frown, I explained, “It’s not just that you grew an extra kidney, honey. It’s hooked itself up to your circulatory system, and organs don’t do that without me or Squilyp doing a lot of cutting and sewing.”
    The Omorr lifted his eyes from the scope. “Nothing but surgery can do this.”
    I wished I could feel as certain. “Run a microcellular repeat on both kidney samples. I’m particularly interested in the bio-organic structure of the right side cells.”
    Duncan finished fastening his tunic. “I will see Dhreen now.”
    It finally hit me, why he was so determined to have a go at the Oenrallian. “You want to try to link with him.”
    He eyed the isolation unit. “You can stay in the room, if you like.”
    “Oh”-I folded my arms-“I’m definitely staying.”
    The Omorr frowned at my husband. “His condition is extremely serious, Duncan. I do not want him agitated.”
    “The minute he agitates, I’ll kick him out,” I assured my boss.
    When we entered the critical care unit, I saw Dhreen was sleeping. Adaola, a former nurse and now one of Squilyp’s surgical interns, was changing his dressing. She saw Reever behind me and immediately stepped between him and the berth.
    “He’s going to be on his best behavior.” I nudged him. “Right, sweetheart?”
    “I will not injure him.”
    The intern stepped aside, but stayed close enough to intervene if necessary. I picked up Dhreen’s chart and reviewed his vitals, which showed no deterioration, but no improvement, either.
    “Will he die?”
    “Not if I have anything to say about it.” I looked up and saw Reever had turned completely white. He’d endured slavery, torture, and endless deprivations, yet he still got squeamish about something like a draining chest wound. “Let Adaola finish dressing his chest, or you’re going to throw up.”
    We let the intern complete her work, then Duncan took hold of Dhreen’s hand. He was still a little pale, but seemed calmer and more in control.
    “Dhreen.” He bent over the berth as the Oenrallian’s eyelids flickered, then opened. “Do you know where you are?”
    “In a hospital.” Drugs made his voice slur the words. “On a ship.”
    “Think of the last thing you remember,” Duncan said, then he went still and his eyes lost their focus.
    I monitored Dhreen’s vitals, but there were no changes beyond a slight elevation in his blood pressure. Reever stayed silent and motionless for a few minutes, then placed Dhreen’s hand back on the linens and straightened. The Oenrallian smiled a little as he drifted into sleep.
    I let out a breath my lungs had refused to release. “Well?”
    “His thought patterns are a jumble of disordered fragments.” He turned and took my hand. “You were right; he is not making a pretense of this. I apologize.”
    I made an impatient sound. “Apologize later. What did you see?”
    “Nothing that made sense. Discarded toys. Oenrallians dancing on a street. Rooms filled with empty beds.”
    Before I could interpret any of that, there was a huge boom outside the starboard hull panel, and we were thrown to the deck.
    The main medical display chimed an emergency signal. “Alert. Exterior hull damage to levels nine, ten, and eleven. All crew members to engagement-response positions.”
    “I’ll check on Alunthri and Marel on my way to Communications.” Reever pulled me close for a brief, hard kiss, then looked into my eyes. “Be careful.”
    I pressed my hand against his cheek. “You, too.”
    As the door panel opened, I heard Squilyp shouting, “Secure Yarek and the other patients! Cheiijo-”
    I stuck my head out. “Give me a minute in