Diana Palmer - The Morcai Battalion

Hahnson gave her a tongue-in-cheek glance. “Pay your burial fees first.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” she said curtly. But she didn’t push the issue. “How is he?” she asked Hahnson.

“No major damage that I can see,” Hahnson said absently, checking his scanners. “But there are some minor deviations in the endorphin levels, and there’s some foreign substance that I can’t even identify.”

“I have some memory loss,” Stern admitted at last. He winced. “And headaches that aren’t even describable.”

“Maybe the deviations are responsible,” Madeline interjected.

“That doesn’t explain them,” Hahnson replied. He handed Madeline a copy of his readings. “You’re better at exobiology than I am. Run those through your diagnostic computer, will you? Perhaps you can find something that my scanners can’t read.”

“My degrees are all in Cularian medicine,” she pointed out. “That’s Rojok and Altairian and Centaurian genetics.”

“There are some similarities to Rojok cell structure,” Hahnson said surprisingly.

Stern sat up too quickly, grabbed his head and groaned.

“Just lie back down, if you please,” Hahnson said, easing him onto the medical scanner array. “I’m not accusing you of being a Rojok spy. I said there were similarities, that’s all. You might have picked up some cellular residue left behind by the Rojoks when they attacked the colony. This equipment is sensitive enough to detect week-old skin cells.”

“Oh,” Stern murmured.

Madeline peered into the computer built into the examination array and frowned. She exchanged a glance with Hahnson that Stern didn’t see.

Hahnson read it very well. He patted Stern on the shoulder. “You just lie there and rest for a few minutes. I’m going to walk Madeline through the sensor workup. Okay?”

“Okay.” He opened his eyes and looked up at his comrades of many years with a worried frown. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked abruptly. “I let that cat-eyed terror blow up the Bellatrix without a protest. I let him space Muldoon. On Terramer, I was willing to sacrifice the Jebobs and Altairians. What the hell am I turning into?” he asked in anguish. “Why can’t I remember anything before we left the Peace Planet? Why didn’t I rush that cat-eyed terror when he spaced Muldoon?” He groaned, holding his head. “The pain…is terrible. I can’t…function…like this!”

“We’ll find the answers, Holt,” Madeline said quietly. “I promise.”

He drew in an unsteady breath. “Muldoon’s gone. It’s my fault.”

“It’s his,” Hahnson corrected shortly. “He could have gotten us all killed. If you’d ever seen the Holconcom fight, you wouldn’t be apologizing.” He shivered faintly. “It’s not a sight you ever forget.”

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