"They do have anaesthesia, Al. I checked."
Kira decided not to comment on the human's prattle. The dark haired one struck her as volatile and not entirely tame, probably a result of Zana's overindulgent training style. He had been involved in some trouble in one of the corridors earlier - fighting with one of her own humans over a female. She sighed. Humans were always in heat, unfortunately.
And now he was commenting on their surgical equipment and procedures as if he had expected less of them, and was cautiously surprised about their level of sophistication. Kira scoffed silently at that notion; the human had gotten his funny ideas from Zana, she'd bet her microscope on that!
She handed Galen a surgical hood and mask - no matter how well a fur was brushed, tiny particles of dust and dirt were always sitting in it, and if Kira had learned one thing in her years as surgeon, it was that the more diligently she covered up every single hair on her body, the fewer complications the patients suffered from post-surgical infections. It wasn't a practice that was widely accepted, as far as she knew, but in her own operation rooms, it was an iron rule that she enforced on everyone who went in with her.
"You need to tell your human to suit up, if he wants to read that book to me in there," she said to Galen. "I still think he should read it from the preparation room to me - I can hear him just as well from there, and he won't drag that old, dusty tome into my clean theater." It was unhygienic... but having humans in there was unhygienic by definition, so she had allowed it anyway. She was breaking all the rules tonight; she only hoped Leander would never learn about it.
The humans were already in position - Galen's human on the operating table, and a young female, whose blood was, according to Galen, compatible with his human's blood, lying on a second table that Galen and his other human had carried in from the other operating room. It was cramped, even without Galen's human hovering around his companion. But she intended to make good use of him if he was here anyway, and he would read the book to her.
Kira was dying to know what was written in that human book, in human script that this dark wildling was able to read, for some reason. She'd happily break some more rules, if she could learn new skills from that thing.
"Very well," she addressed her surgical team - she sighed; Galen and his human. What a team. "Are you ready to begin? No? Doesn't matter. As long as you do what I say, and don't panic before I do, everything will be fine. And if you have to faint, do it outside." She nodded to the human. "Put him under."
The human nodded back, dark eyes huge and frightened over his mask, and turned to put the cotton mask over his companion's face. "I'll dribble this stuff on the fabric," he explained to him, voice muffled under his surgical mask, "and you just breathe naturally. Okay? No worries, Al, you won't feel a thing."
"At least until I get the bill," Al joked. Kira shook her head.
It didn't take long; it never did. A few deep breaths, and the human slipped into unconsciousness. "I want you to keep a finger at his carotid and feel the pulse at all times," Kira instructed the dark one. "And keep an eye on his breathing, too. When they speed up, give him some more ether; if they slow down too much, tell me."
"How much is too much?" The human's voice sounded strained; having second thoughts, Kira thought sardonically.
"Well, if his lips turn blue, I'd say it's high time you said something."
"You're such a bundle of joy," the human muttered, and laid two fingers on the patient's throat. Galen rubbed some more brandy on the operating field and aligned the lamps.
Kira picked up a scalpel. "So, start reading. Where do I make the first incision?"
"What is going on here?"
A surgeon cannot panic during surgery; the patient's life depends on it. Kira had always been grateful for her inability to startle, although she would suffer a belated reaction long after the fact. So she kept her gaze fixed on the scalpel in her hand, hovering steadily over the red and swollen hole in the pale skin beneath her. "Continuing education in surgical technique, Leander - you know my opinion about surgeons who become complacent."
She flicked a sharp glance at him when she heard him take a step into the room. "You aren't covered, doctor! It may just be a human, but I don't want my study to be compromised by uncontrolled external factors... like the dust in your hair."
Leander stopped where he was, although he made no move to leave. His eyes wandered over the assembled team, stopping for a moment on Galen's conscious human, who'd had the good sense to nudge the book out of view in the meantime, and finally honing in on the girl. "What is she doing here?"
"The human has been injured during a hunting accident," Kira said absently, and made the first incision. "A bullet is lodged somewhere in his pelvic area, and the wound has gotten infected to a degree that we cannot control it any longer without removing the source of the infection first." She sliced the deeper layers under the skin; bloody fluid welled up and Galen's "orderly" hissed in alarm. "Dr. Kova, suction here."
To Galen's credit, he didn't hesitate; with a swift motion, he dipped the silver canule of the suction pump - which simply was the biggest syringe they had - into the bloody lake, and retracted the plunger. After he had emptied its content into the bucket under the table, he had to apply it three more times before Kira could finally see the human's guts. "I will check the colon for injuries now." She nodded to Galen. "Spreader. - Are you going to stand there and contaminate my op field, Leander, or do you want to help?"
From the corner of her eyes, she saw Leander clasp his hands behind his back. "I'm still unclear why that female is here - aren't you afraid of contamination by her?"
"We'll use her blood in case of severe abdominal bleeding in this one," Kira muttered without looking up. Mothers, this was exactly the situation she had hoped to avoid! How had Leander gotten wind of her little unscheduled experiment?
"We already experimented with blood transfusion, Kira." She could hear the frown in his voice. "We realized it doesn't work. It's against the laws of nature. I didn't authorize this... You didn't even ask me." He made a step towards the table. "You knew that I wouldn't allow you to repeat that failed experiment, so you decided to go behind my back!"
"I insisted on it, Director," Galen interjected. "We are trying a new procedure, I, I heard about it when I was traveling in the Northern Mountains. Apparently, they use it there with excellent results. I'm just a humble country doctor, so I didn't want to try it myself, but Dr. Kira here is an extraordinary surgeon."
"You'll close up now, Doctor." There was a growl in Leander's voice that Kira had never heard before.
She ignored it.
The colon was unharmed, as far as she could tell. She was certain she hadn't left anything out. The bullet had to sit farther back; it had probably traveled along the iliac bone.
"Did you hear me, Kira? Close up, this experiment is being terminated!"
"It is my human we're experimenting on, director, and as you can see, it is injured - we're not doing this out of idle curiosity." Galen's voice was calm and... cold. Kira couldn't remember that she had ever noticed that steely determination in him before.
"It may be your human, but this is my clinic," Leander snapped. "My equipment."
Kira felt her head lift as if on its own. "But I'm not your surgeon," she heard herself say. "At least not in the sense that you're using the word."
The shock she saw in his eyes matched the shock she felt at her own words. How calm she had sounded! Much calmer than she felt right now. "I can learn something new here, Leander." Maybe she could still find a way to reach him. "Without any risk to our clinic or our humans. Dr. Kova here provided us with a free specimen. How could I ignore this opportunity?"
Leander stared at her for a long moment; Kira stared back, frozen, her hand with the scalpel hovering in mid-air. She wished she could read his face.
With an abrupt motion, Leander leaned out of the door and reached for his surgical garb. "Very well." He shrugged into the scrub and pulled the hood over his head. "Let us learn something new tonight." He took position at the other side of the table, looming over Galen, but his gaze stayed fixed on her face.
"I am, as always, eager to see you in action."
Maybe it was too early to pack their things, but Zana needed something to do for her hands, and the act seemed to signal that they would soon have left this latest crisis behind them. She wasn't completely clear to whom she was signaling her exasperation with this whole episode - maybe the Mothers - but it felt strangely relieving to collect their belongings from the table and the cupboard, and from under the bed; retracting the fine roots they had dug into the place as soon as they had stayed longer than a day.
They rarely stayed longer than a day anywhere, Zana realized; she had almost forgotten how easily one spread out over an area one claimed as one's own. Whenever she thought she had gathered everything, she'd stumble over one more thing. And then she had to reorder the contents of their backpacks, so that everything would fit into it.
One cloth-wrapped bundle slipped from her fingers and rolled away when the fabric unfolded. Zana bent to retrieve it and started a bit when she discovered that it was Peet's horse pendant. She had meant to give it back to him as soon as they had found him, but Peet had been so gruff to her... She had told herself that under all his hostility, Peet was simply afraid, but that hadn't made it easier, on the contrary.
Zana slowly sank down on the bed, staring at the little wooden figurine in her hand. Yes, she had meant to give it back to him as soon as the right opportunity would present itself, but somehow, the right opportunity never seemed to arise.
The clatter of hoofbeats from the yard jerked her out of her reverie. The sound had become a signal of grave danger, something that immediately sent her heart racing, making her fur bristle and her lips curl with panic. She jumped up and hurried to the window, careful not to show herself to whoever had entered the yard below.
Torches and moving shadows, yellow light dancing on black uniforms. Police. Zana took a shuddering breath, but forced herself to stay and have a closer look. If she wanted to warn Galen and Peet, she needed to give them useful information. How many men, and...
They had a human in their midst; Zana could see him stumbling behind a rider. They had probably tied his rope to the saddlehorn, it was difficult to see in the weak light. Zana remembered that Galen had sent Travin to get a human whose blood was compatible with Alan's... Tomeh. But Tomeh had run away. A patrol had to have crossed paths with him by chance - humans weren't allowed to roam the streets after dark.
She allowed herself a tiny sigh of relief. It had just been a coincidence. The patrol was here to bring back a runaway human, not to search the grounds for four fugitives-
- and then she heard Urko's voice.
For a moment, Zana froze, panic filling her chest like cold mud. Urko was here, Urko had been questioning Tomeh, Urko would start searching the clinic grounds, the corridors, the operating rooms...
Galen was in surgery with Kira, and so was Peet, helping them, reading the book that would enable Kira to save Alan's life. Alan, who was lying naked on that table, unconscious, helpless.
Zana clenched her fists.
Then she yanked open the door and sprinted down the corridor, to director Leander's office. No matter what the man thought about them, he wouldn't want to get caught up in the fallout of Kira's decision to accept Galen's plea. That Chimpanzee was way too ambitious to allow Urko to destroy his career and reputation.
Leander wasn't in his office. Zana stopped a young intern in the corridor. "Where is the director? There is police in the yard!"
"Director Leander is in the operating room with Doctor Kira," the Chimp said. "I'll take care of the police, ma'am, they just brought back one of our humans."
Zana grabbed him by the lapels of his lab coat and dragged him into Leander's office. "You don't understand!" she hissed, "this is Urko in the yard! Do you really think the Chief General would bother to come here just to deliver one of your runaway slaves?"
"Wha- what do you mean?" the Chimp stuttered, nervously smoothing his crumpled coat. "Why is he here?"
"To arrest the director!" Zana snapped. "Which means that your career will be over, too, even if he doesn't arrest you!"
"But I didn't do anything!" the Chimp protested; panic made his voice shrill. "Why should he arrest me? Why would he arrest Doctor Leander?"
"The general is known to be not very discriminating when he makes arrests," Zana informed him. "He prefers to sort them out later. Of course, being released won't help you at all when you'll try to find a new position. Nobody cares if you were innocent in the end - they won't even bother to read your resume once they come across the name Urko."
Now the young ape was really panicking. "Oh Mothers! Oh Mothers, oh Mothers, oh Mothers..." He tore at his hair, something that Zana wished she could do, too, but she had to keep her wits together.
"We have to get him off the clinic grounds!" she said. "If he doesn't find incriminating material, he can't arrest your director. Then you'll be safe, too."
The ape let go of his fur and stared at her. "What material?"
Zana leaned in for a conspiratorial whisper. "You remember the blood transfusion experiments they did a while ago?" The Chimp nodded. "They started them again - but this time, they try to transfuse blood from an ape to a human. And Urko thinks that's blasphemy," Zana whispered. "He has no understanding for science, for the courage of the scientist, or for the sacrifices one has to make for the sake of simian progress. If it was up to him, we'd still call for the priests to pray over our children's appendicitis."
"The... the director wants to transfuse his own blood into a human? Why?" The Chimp looked at once excited and disgusted. Zana decided to change her tactic.
"Look - what's your name again?"
"Stole."
"Look, Stole - of course Doctor Leander won't use himself as test subject. It was the idea of Doctor Kova, who is using one of our own humans for it. But Leander is there to oversee the experiment, which means he authorized it and is responsible for it, and that's enough for the general to arrest him and accuse him of blasphemy!" She waited a moment to let this sink in, although she could feel her time running out. "I'm sorry my husband's scientific daring has dragged you into this situation, but if you don't want to live out your days in one of Urko's interrogation cellars, you better help me to deter him and his baboons."
Stole stared at her, panting. "What do I have to do?" His panic had turned into mad resolve. Zana held his gaze a moment longer; then she nodded lightly.
"You'll inform him that his life is in grave danger here."
The atmosphere in the operating room was humming with tension as if they were in the eye of a storm - they were coated in a thick, deceptively calm silence, only punctuated by Kira's terse commands to correct the lighting, or to hand her an instrument. Leander was a silent presence at Galen's shoulder, his eyes tracking Kira's hands like a cat observing its prey.
A big cat.
Galen admired how unmoved Kira seemed to be. She was completely focused on her work, systematically searching for the bullet, stitching together torn blood vessels, pulling aside guts and membranes to get at the hip bone where she suspected the lump of metal had lodged.
"Better put a clamp on that vessel, doctor."
Galen flinched when the deep voice suddenly sounded at his right ear. Now he was exactly where he had never wanted to be - in a surgery with Doctor Leander. I only sat in the lectures, I never even cut into a corpse!
To his surprise, it was Peet who handed him the clamp; after a hasty glance to where Kira had already placed another one, he set his own and slowly, cautiously exhaled as the bleeding stopped.
"Clean that up, Kova. I need to see what I'm working on." Kira's voice was matter of fact, but Galen couldn't help but flinch again. He dipped the syringe into the little pool of blood that had collected in Alan's intestines, and retracted the plunger.
"That bucket is filling up... don't you think we should start with the transfusion?" he asked when he straightened again.
Kira hesitated; she flicked a glance at Peet, who still had his fingers at Alan's throat. His dark eyes were fixed at his friend's flank, monitoring their movement as if hypnotized. "How is his pulse?" Kira asked.
Peet's shoulders rose and fell as he took a quick breath. "Slow. But... okay, I think."
Kira's brows rose. "You think?"
Peet looked up; his eyes were huge. He was afraid, Galen thought. "I can feel his pulse, Doctor Kira. It's not strong, but I have no problem feeling it."
Kira glanced at Galen. "We wait with the transfusion." She lowered her gaze back to the bowels that glistened in the light of the surgical lights.
Galen understood her hesitation - after the disastrous results of their former experiment, Kira didn't want to use this experimental treatment if it wasn't absolutely necessary. She might not think a human was worth the trouble of doing surgery on at all, but once he was on her table, she'd treat him the same as any ape. He smiled wistfully behind his mask. Kira took great pride in her skill; she wouldn't allow her standards to slip.
"I can see the bullet," Kira said.
Galen drew a deep breath. Finally. At Alan's head, Peet closed his eyes for a moment.
Then he noticed that Kira's hands weren't moving. "What's the matter, doctor? You just said you can see the bullet..."
"I can see it," Kira said grimly. "But I can't reach it. It's trapped between that nerve and the big leg vein. And it looks as if it's plugging up a blood vessel. The moment I move it, this will bleed like nothing you've seen before."
"If you clamp the vessel..."
"You don't understand! I can damage the nerve if I can't see anything under the pooling blood, and if the blood vessel ruptures, he'll go into shock and bleed out in moments. Do you really want to risk that?"
"If you close him up now, he'll die from septic fever," Galen said with a calmness he didn't feel. "So yes, I really want to risk that. I trust you not to kill your patient."
Kira snorted. "Don't misplace your trust. A number of patients have died on my table."
Leander leaned in and took a long look at the bloody mess between the metallic spreaders. "There is no way of removing that, Kira. You'd better close up." His voice was cool and detached, as if he was consciously refraining from saying, told you so.
Kira stared at him, the muscles of her face taut above the mask. Leander returned her glare with one of his own unreadable, catlike stares. Galen found himself looking at both of them by turns, as if he could catch a word of that silent conversation.
Then Kira turned her head to Peet. "You," she said. "Read me that chapter from the book."
Galen felt the breath catch in his throat. That book was blasphemy, much like the one he had taken a long, long time ago. It could get her killed. If Leander informed Urko, it would get her killed.
Peet was staring at her, apparently realizing the same dire truth. "Didn't you hear me, boy?" Kira snapped. "Read the damn book!"
Peet's eyes flicked to him; then, one hand still at Alan's neck, he pulled the book out from under the table with his other hand, and set it on the table.
Leander went very still all of a sudden, his gaze fixed on the book, then on Peet, whose eyes were rapidly scanning the text, the undecipherable symbols on the page, to find the right passage, the one that would save his friend's life.
"You obviously have things well in hand here, doctors," Leander purred. "I think I can return to my other duties." He stepped back from the table.
Galen squeezed himself between Leander and the door. "I must ask you to stay, director; you wouldn't want to miss this." He looked up, into the taller ape's eyes. But Leander's gaze was resting on his hand.
The hand holding a scalpel.
For a tiny moment, the memory of Alan flicked up in Galen's mind: eyes bright with a terrible joy, the scalpel cold and bright against Maltus' throat. And for a moment, he understood that joy, that elation, when a tiny scrap of metal erased all differences of height, of status, of power. When the most dangerous thing in the room was him.
Leander was looking at Kira, who was following Peet's murmured instructions, easing a forceps into the wound. "Why, Kira?"
Kira didn't look up from her work. "Because I'm a doctor. It's my duty to be the best surgeon I can be, and to not reject any source of learning, no matter its origin."
"This book is blasphemy!" Leander growled.
"This book holds knowledge we can use." Kira held her breath; she had to be near the bullet now. "I would be a fool to close my eyes before the truth."
"The truth! That book isn't truth! It's treason! It's madness!"
Kira's hand stilled. "The book exists," she said, very quietly. "Madness is to deny what exists."
She slowly retracted her hand.
And then pulled it back with a curse all of a sudden. Blood welled up, too much blood, too quickly, and Kira dropped the forceps into the metal tray. "Clamp!"
Galen found himself transfixed by Peet's panicked stare. "I can't feel Alan's pulse, doc!" He swallowed.
"And he's not breathing!"
The plague mask was a bizarre contraption; with its long snout and huge goggles, it turned the staff into nightmarish ghosts that reminded Zana of dead birds. It helped that the protective robes were colored bright red, for greatest warning effect even at a distance.
And they now all looked the same, which meant she could stay nearby and monitor Stole's dealing with Urko, who was balancing on the balls of his feet, thumbs hooked into his belt, and pinning him down with a grimly amused stare. "Kahrna fever? Never heard of it."
"I don't expect you to, General," Stole said, and Zana admired the lazy arrogance dripping from his voice. "You're not a physician, after all. I wouldn't presume to know how to secure the city gates, either. I do know, however, how to secure the clinic, so that the fever won't spread like wildfire over the City."
He did, Zana admitted silently. Stole's transformation from a panicking young intern to a medical commander bellowing orders had been a sight to behold. In mere moments, all patient wards, every security door in the corridors, and the outer doors of the clinic had been closed and covered with plague cloths. The humans had been driven into their stable and locked in - that had been something Zana had overseen herself, to make sure that the troublemaker Travin would have no chance to come into contact with Urko. The plague flag had been hoisted up above the roof, and the staff had been ordered to wear protective gear and stay inside until Stole had dealt with the police. Apparently, Leander had been conducting emergency drills on a regular basis; everything had run smoothly and quickly, and by the time Urko had dismounted and ordered his men to spread out, all doors had already been locked.
For now, the surgical team was safely tucked away. They were probably not even aware of the drama going down in the yard. Zana was determined to keep it that way.
"I heard some interesting stories about medical experiments going on here," Urko said softly. "Seems like some strangers were visiting the good doctor and incited him to try his hands at blasphemy. And now you're trying to keep me from having a look at the evidence by pulling some made-up sickness out of your ass. How stupid do you think I am?"
Stole wisely decided to ignore that question. "I for my part stopped listening to stories after I left the nursery."
Urko's eyes narrowed, and Zana felt her heartbeat pick up. Stole seemed to be blissfully unaware of the tension crackling in the air, as he continued, "And I don't want to speculate about the source of that story, General, but there is a reason why we don't accept humans as witnesses in court. The fever seemed to have entered the City a few days ago, only infecting humans at first, which is how it escaped our attention. But you may have heard about Zaius' body servant."
"I heard it's dead," Urko growled.
"Is it? That was fast. Nurse, remind me to add that information to my notes after the general has left!"
Zana nodded, inwardly cursing Stole for having directed Urko's attention to her. She felt his eyes bore into her through the leather of her mask, and stood perfectly still, not daring to move a muscle - it was entirely possible that Urko would recognize her by the way she walked, or by some habitual gesture she wasn't even conscious of.
After an eternity, Urko directed his gaze back to Stole. "It's a human plague. No need to put this clinic under quarantine."
"The illness has jumped species," Stole said coldly, "and it is even more aggressive in apes than it is in humans. So far, we have no reports from infections outside this clinic, and I like to keep it that way. That means I cannot allow you or your men to drag your bodies all over the grounds, collect the miasma of the sick ward in your fur, and then spread it all over the city. In case you've forgotten, General, you aren't the only one sworn to protect the citizens from harm."
Urko unhooked his thumbs from his belt and ambled closer until he was directly in Stole's face. Zana saw the young doctor's back stiffen as he refused to step back; her respect for him increased tenfold.
"I don't believe in coincidences, Stole," Urko said amicably. "In my line of work, coincidences always line up to be attempts at covering up some bad, bad mistake you made. I give you a chance, Stole - one chance - to step aside and let me do my work, and I promise you, whatever bad mistake your boss has made, I won't let him drag you under with him. I'll let you off the hook, Stole. I'll round up everyone who is only marginally involved in this fuck-up, but you have my word that I'll let you walk." He waited for a moment. "Better make up your mind now, Doctor, before that deal runs out."
Don't believe him! He'll never let you go! Zana stood there, not daring to move or speak for fear Urko would recognize her; buried alive in her heavy plague garb and condemned to watch Stole make his lonely decision.
If he steps aside now, I won't even be able to run to the operation room to be arrested together with them.
"I'm sorry," Stole said, and Zana closed her eyes.
"But I cannot break emergency protocol. Not even for you, General. Not even if director Leander was breeding man-apes in there. Come back once we've determined that the infection is under control and poses no danger for the City."
Urko took a step back, a quiet fury burning in his eyes that made Zana shiver. "I'll be back sooner than that, Doctor - I'll be back with a Council order, and then we'll put up a few gallows in this yard."
Stole just watched with her as the Gorilla mounted his horse and jerked the beast around and towards the gate. Gravel clattered against Zana's heavy leather apron as his men spurred their horses on to follow their enraged commander from a safe distance.
As soon as the patrol was out of sight, Stole crumpled into the panicked intern from before. He whirled around to Zana and tore the mask from his face. "You heard what he said! He'll be back before sunrise, and then we'll hang!"
"I doubt that he'll get that Council order as easily as he thinks," Zana remarked, "after Zaius just lost his human to that illness. I heard he was very fond of it - he had it for many years." She had known Semon, although she hadn't interacted much with him; and it sickened her to know that someone had poisoned the poor creature.
"Anyway, we'll be long gone by then," she assured the Chimp, "but I'd advise you to keep up appearances for another day or two. Even if it turns out that it was a false alarm, better safe than sorry, right?" They turned to go inside.
"Urko will have the clinic watched," Stole said darkly. "He'll hold up anyone who tries to leave."
That was highly probable, Zana admitted to herself. Galen had bought a doctor's wagon and stuffed it with herbs and leeches and other medical equipment, so that they would have a more permanent cover, and she was loathe to give that up. Besides, traveling in a cart would be so much easier for her, especially in the months to come...
"Then we better think of something," she said. "The City needs bright young surgeons like you, Stole. It would be a shame if your career ended three feet above the gravel, right?"
"Kova, clamp! No, there! I'm plugging his vein with my finger, Kova, how do you think I'm going to make a suture? With my teeth? Put it here! Good! Now clean up this mess so that I can see what I'm doing!"
Galen drew up Alan's blood in the syringe, feeling it get heavy and warm in his hand as the metal conducted the blood's heat outward. Hot and heavy and slippery in his bloodied hands. He pressed the plunger, and the blood shot into the bucket with a sickening, foamy sound.
So much blood.
"Doc, he's not breathing, and his lips are blue!"
Kira's hands were quickly sewing the springy tube of the blood vessel together. She didn't even look up. "There's a ventilation bag hanging on a hook behind you." They had inserted a metal tube into Alan's throat after he had slipped into unconsciousness, to prevent his tongue from choking him, and the ventilation bag - which consisted essentially of a pig's bladder and two wooden paddles - had a fitting tube at its end, so that even a layperson like Peet could operate it.
"That air won't do it any good as long as its heart isn't beating," Leander remarked. "What does your book say about that?"
For a moment, everyone froze.
Then Peet laid the ventilation bag on Alan's unmoving chest, tilted the book, so that the block of pages fell over to reveal the first page, and began to read.
"I swear by Apollo the Physician and Asclepius and Hygieia and Panaceia and all the gods and goddesses..."
A hush fell over the operation room, as the human invoked gods of eons past; gods of healing, gods of science.
Gods of Man.
Galen felt a strange awe choke his throat. Kira's was watching Peet's face, her dark eyes unreadable.
"... I will fulfill according to my ability and judgment this oath and this covenant: that I will apply my measures for the benefit of the sick, according to my ability and judgment."
Peet's hands were shaking, and his voice was thick with emotion. He was pleading with them, Galen realized, pleading with them and with the forgotten gods of Man, to not let his friend die on this table.
Peet looked up at last; looked at Leander, who was regarding him, silent and unconcerned. "... and I will keep them... keep them from harm and injustice."
He let the book fall on the table as if it had gotten too heavy for his grip.
Leander pursed his lips.
"There is tincture of belladonna in the cabinet behind you," he said. He gestured impatiently when Peet didn't move. "What's the matter? Are you waiting for your gods to sweep in and revive your companion's heart?"
Peet blinked, then turned abruptly to the cabinet. "Which one? I can't read your script..."
"Second to the right, the small octagon flask. - Here, doctor," Galen stared at the silver syringe that Leander had slapped into his hand, "I think it's time to demonstrate that new protocol for blood transfusions that you've witnessed during your journey through the Iron Mountains." The surgeon didn't wait to savour his shocked reaction; he took the flask with the belladonna tincture from Peet's hands and carefully applied some drops under Alan's tongue.
"Resume ventilation, boy. Doctor Kira, that vein won't close up on its own. Doctor Kova, I suggest you start the transfusion now." Leander put his hands on Alan's chest. "This pump is almost running dry, and I don't want to exert myself for nothing."
He started pressing down on Alan's breastbone, and with that, the strange spell was broken; everyone moved at once, Peet inserting the ventilation bag into Alan's mouth once more, Kira quickly drawing the cat gut through the punctured tissue. Galen moved to Arna's side and flicked her an encouraging smile as he pulled the tourniquet tight around her arm.
"Don't worry, girl," he murmured while he rubbed the crook of her arm with alcohol. "I won't take much. You'll get something to eat afterwards, and you'll stay lying down for a bit and drink lots of water..."
"I don't want to kill him with my blood," Arna whispered.
"I can assure you," Galen said grimly while he slowly retracted the plunger, "if Alan dies, it won't be because of your blood." He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, where Leander was still massaging Alan's heart. Peet interrupted his pumping to lay a finger at Alan's throat.
"Still no pulse."
Burke knew it was ridiculous, and actually, it was also damn embarrassing, but he just couldn't help it; he pulled back the tarpaulin a bit. A slice of sunlight cut through the twilight inside the cart and gleamed off the white porcelain of the leeches jar. He'd have to change its water later. Burke suppressed a slight shiver.
"You're okay in there?"
"'m fine."
The voice was low, and the words had become more slurred with every time Al had to assure him that he was still alive; and yeah, he should leave the man alone already, but he just had to check. And check again.
Burke's hands were still shaking every time he thought back to that moment in the operation room when the bastard had stopped breathing. Had stopped having a pulse. Galen had told him later that he'd gone gray around the eyes; that even his fingertips, that had been frantically searching for a pulse, had gone gray. Burke hadn't noticed then, he'd been busy dying inside himself, but people under stress noticed the damndest things, so maybe Galen had really seen it.
Two days later, the crimson flags were still flapping in the breeze, sealing off the clinic to the outside world and killing Leander's business. Well, better than killing the man himself, Burke supposed. Invoking a deadly plague had been a genius idea of Zana, but it had presented them with the problem of basically being under siege, and sneaking away with a horse and cart was a tiny bit more difficult than to crawl through the underbrush in the dead of the night.
They had no choice, though; Al wouldn't crawl anywhere anytime soon.
"We should get the hell away from here, before Urko goes to check on his sentry," he said to Zana and nodded towards the main entrance, where Galen was chatting up Leander and Kira.
"Galen will be done in a moment," Zana assured him. From the corner of his eyes, Burke saw that she was studying his face; he pretended not to notice. "What happened to that sentry?" she wanted to know.
He hesitated for a moment. Galen had sent him out to 'take care of the problem', knowing full well what that 'taking care' would entail. After his little run-in with Arna's bully, the ape had probably decided that he was a vicious dog, and put him to use like one.
Zana... Zana still thought that he was civilized. That he could get better again. But she deserved the truth. "I cut his throat." He waited for a sharp inhale, or some half-muffled outcry, but nothing came.
When he finally turned his head to look at her, she gently laid a hand on his arm, and he consciously didn't flinch away. "I'm so sorry, Peet," she said.
His throat was tight all of a sudden and he had no idea why. "We should go over and break up their little tea party," he said gruffly, "we really need to leave."
She patted his arm. "You're right, Peet, but before we do that, I wanted to give you something."
It was small, and light, rolled into several layers of cloth and bound with a rough thread. He sent her a curious glance, but she just gestured for him to open it.
The little wooden chess knight rolled into the palm of his hand. Its contours blurred a little before his eyes, but his fingers knew its tiny nooks and crannies, the smooth curve of its neck, polished by his thumb that had stroked its mane uncounted times.
Katlin's horse.
Katlin.
He cleared his throat. "Where'd... where'd you find it? I thought I'd lost it for good."
"I found it at the spot where the bounty hunters had taken you captive," Zana said. She kept her voice and face carefully neutral. "I saved it for you, so I could give it back to you later."
He closed his fist around the figurine, felt its edges bore into his flesh. He wasn't sure he could keep his voice steady right now, but Zana saved him again, patting him on the arm once more.
This time, it was easier not to flinch.
"I wasn't going to let them arrest Dr. Kira," Leander was saying when they came into hearing range. "We have a date tonight." Kira smiled faintly, but said nothing; she had her hands deep in the pockets of her lab coat.
"And besides, we are eagerly waiting for your translation of that book." Leander frowned. "What if they catch you on the road? General Urko is vicious."
Everyone seemed to be on the same page about the gorilla, Burke thought; but nobody had found a way to get rid of him, for some reason.
"Don't worry about that." Galen glanced at him, and Burke clenched his jaw and fought the urge to cast down his eyes. "My orderly has taken care of it."
Suddenly he found himself scrutinized by two pairs of eyes, as Leander and Kira thoughtfully assessed him. "Yes, I heard it mentioned that you trained this one as a bodyguard," Leander said slowly. "A risky move, in my opinion... but up North, everything is a bit different, they say."
Burke fervently wished that to be true. He needed something different from these folks here, something drastically different. He left the apes chatting among themselves and drifted to the edge of the building. Arna stood there, balancing her pitcher on her hip.
"Hey," he said. "How you feeling?"
Arna smiled shyly. "Fine. How is your friend?"
"Still breathing," Burke joked. "He's fine, Arna," he added gently. "Your blood saved his life."
The girl took a deep breath. "I'm so happy."
"Yeah, me too." As much as he liked Zana, the thought of having to face this world alone, without the one human who understood what human life, human... dignity really meant, was unbearable. Al shared his culture; they got each other, the way nobody else, human or ape, would ever get them on this shithole of a planet. He smiled at Arna. "See, I told you - no curse."
"My father told the others to call me Arna again," the girl confided. "He's... he asked me to forgive him."
Burke drew his lip through his teeth. "An' did you?"
Arna stared at the ground, digging her toe into the gravel. "I know I should do it..."
"Who says that?" Burke shrugged when she looked up to him, wide-eyed. "Yeah, I mean you could. Forgiveness is... is given, can't be earned. But it's also nothing that can be demanded. It's yours to give, on your terms, in your time. If you're not feeling it right now, don't force yourself. You know, he hurt you a lot. Maybe you need a little more time to get well again first."
Arna surprised him when she put down the pitcher and stepped forward to embrace him. "I hope you'll get well again soon, Pete."
Burke cautiously hugged her back. "What do you mean, princess?"
Arna looked up at him, her grey eyes sad and knowing. "How you feeling?"
The air rushed out of his lungs with a sigh. All of a sudden, he was too tired to pretend. "Like I should crawl around on all four and howl at the moon."
Arna squeezed her arms around him. "Don't let them mess with your head, Pete. Watch the stars."
He had no words; he just put his forehead to hers and held her tight, until Zana called out to him, and he had to go.
He jogged up to the wagon that was already rolling through the gate of the clinic, and pulled himself up to the passenger's seat. "Let 'em run, doc. I want to see the mountains." Galen flicked the lines and urged the horses into a trot, and Burke turned around in his seat to look back a last time.
Arna was still standing at the corner, the morning sun in her hair. She waved at him. Burke waved back. Then the road made a bend and she was gone.
Burke turned around again to face the road, and stretched his legs. The day promised to be hot and humid again. Poor Al would have a hard time under the tarp. But he was alive, and they were on their way.
He looked up, and up, until his eyes found the horizon.