S. L. Viehl - Stardoc 04 - Shockball

VIP免费
2024-12-20 0 0 743.46KB 358 页 5.9玖币
侵权投诉
SHOCKBALL
S. L. Viehl
A Stardoc novel - 04
Ebook Liberation Front digital back-up
edition 1.0
click for scan notes and proofing history
valid XHTML 1.0 strict
Contents
•PART ONE: MATERNITY
o1: Nascent Inanity
o2: Separations
o3: Endamaged
o4: The Inevitable
o5: Dancing with Christopher
•PART TWO: PATERNITY
o6: Leyaneyaniteh
o7: Choices
o8: Topside
o9: Many Mistakes
o10: Desperate Bargain
•PART THREE: CONSANGUINITY
o11: Not To Be Trusted
o12: Centerfield
o13: Dolts to Fix
o14: A Promise to Keep
o15: Inititation
•PART FOUR: EQUITY
o16: Twins
o17: Change of Course
o18: The Grandfather of All Monsters
o19: Game Sphere
o20: A Gift for Duncan
Don’t miss the other exciting SF medical thrillers by S.
L. Viehl
StarDoc
Beyond Varallan
Endurance
A ROC BOOK
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Putnam Inc, 375 Hudson Street, New York, New
York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL,
England
Penguin Books Australia Ltd, Ringwood, Victoria,
Australia
Penguin Books Canada Ltd, 10 Alcorn Avenue,
Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4V 3B2
Penguin Books (N.Z.) Ltd, 182-190 Wairau Road,
Auckland 10, New Zealand
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices:
Harmondsworth, Middlesex, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American
Library, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc.
First Printing, November 2001
Copyright © S. L. Viehl, 2001
All rights reserved
Cover art by Alan Pollack
Designed by Ray Lundgren
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA
REGISTRADA
Printed in the United States of America
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved
above, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise),
without the prior written permission of both the copyright
owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
BOOKS ARE AVAILABLE AT QUANTITY
DISCOUNTS WHEN USED TO PROMOTE
PRODUCTS OR SERVICES FOR INFORMATION
PLEASE WRITE TO PREMIUM MARKETING
DIVISION. PENGUIN PUTNAM INC.. 375 HUDSON
STREET. NEW YORK. NEW YORK 10014.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should
be aware that this book is stolen property It was reported
as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the
author nor the publisher has received any payment for this
“stripped book ”
Some people share the changes in your
life;
others change the way you live it.
Best friends are the ones who do both.
For the first novelist I ever met,
the gentlest soul I’ve ever known,
and the best friend I’ve ever had,
Marilyn Jordan.
PART ONE
Maternity
Chapter One
^ »
Nascent Inanity
… I will impart a knowledge of the art to my own sons
and to those of my teachers, and to disciplines bound by
a stipulation and oath…
—Hippocrates (460?-377? B.C.)
Hippocrates never had to coach a green cutter, I thought
as I looked at the bloody mess on the table. Otherwise,
he’d have imparted his foot up a certain eager beaver’s
southern orifice.
“You used a laser to do this? Not a hacksaw?”
The Saksonan across from me huffed. “You’re not
amusing.”
“Neither is this.” I gloved, masked, then scanned the
entire disaster. “Stomach is history. Ditto on both
kidneys. Large intestine is ruptured in three, make that
four, areas. Spleen is”—I used a pair of forceps to extract
and hold it up for a better look—“totaled. Nice work,
Vlaav.”
Thousands of dermal hemangiomas swelled, making
the Saksonan appear like a bristling strawberry. “It’s not
my fault!”
“It never is.” I dropped the tattered organ back into the
abdominal cavity. “Let’s see, cause of death would be
exsanguination, or traumatic shock induced by lack of
anesthetic.” I placed my instrument on the discard tray.
“Congratulations, Doctor. You’ve successfully murdered
your first surgical patient.”
“You said I was doing a postmortem this morning. I
didn’t realize it was still alive until I started the abdominal
exploratory.” With an impatient, three-fingered yank,
Vlaav tore off his mask and threw it on the deck. ‘’And
this is not my first surgical patient.“
“If you want to have more, here’s a new rule: never cut
anyone open until they are under general anesthetic, or you
make sure they’re not breathing.”
“Dr. Torin? Dr. Irde?”
We both turned around. Former League Lieutenant
Wonlee stood just outside the exam room with a tray of
food. He’d adapted a loosely woven garment as an
orderly’s tunic to accommodate the thousands of sharp
spines covering his body. For some odd reason, they
were all standing on end. His hands went lax, and the tray
hit the deck.
“You butchered him,” Wonlee said in a strangled
voice.
The Lieutenant had been a medic, once upon a time,
but he’d never done a surgical rotation. Vlaav and I were
fairly well splattered with synplasma from the death
throes, and I guess the sight of the body was, to an
inexperienced layman, rather disturbing.
“It’s not a him, Won. It’s a training torso.” When that
didn’t sink in, I punched a console button and the
botched surgical simulation disappeared. “A dimensional,
simulated facsimile. Not a real person.”
“Oh.” Wonlee took a deep breath, and his spines
settled back down. “What happened to it?”
I stripped off my gloves. “Dr. Irde learned how not to
conduct an appendectomy.”
Vlaav peeled his off at the same time. “You said to do
an autopsy. I swear on my mother’s deities.”
“Your mom wouldn’t appreciate you swearing. And
schedule yourself for an auditory scan. Your hearing
stinks.” A strange odor reached my nose, and I glanced at
the deck. I’d smelled nicer things in a biohazard container
that hadn’t been emptied for a month. “What is that
stuff?”
“Your dinner.” Won started cleaning up the mess.
“The Captain said you’ve neglected to take any meal
intervals today.”
Lately the Captain had been acting like my mother. “So
he made you come and force-feed me for a change.”
That got me a “now, Doctor” look. “Since I was
reporting for my shift, I offered to bring it down for him.”
I took a step back and gulped. “You programmed it,
right?”
“No, as a matter of fact, the Captain prepared it
personally.”
Personally. “Excuse me.” I ran.
After I finished vomiting into the nearest disposal unit, I
sat back against the lavatory wall panel and pressed a
damp cloth against my hot face. The maniac who
constantly tortured my senses with his alien concoctions
was going to pay for this. Big time.
The lavatory door panel slid open. “You are ill again.”
Speak of the Captain.
“You’re cooking again.” I took the hand he offered,
and let him pull me to my feet. Then I thumped him on the
chest, just out of principle. “So this is all your fault.”
The Captain was a Terran, like me. He disdained a
uniform in favor of his usual black, unornamented tunic
and trousers. Some things had changed since we’d
met—like his blond hair, which he had let grow and now
wore tied back in a queue. There were all kinds of new
muscles on his long, swimmer’s body, courtesy of
training with the Hsktskt and the Jorenians.
Other things hadn’t changed. His personality remained
as chilly as ever. So did his expression. Carved masks
had more life to them. But now it didn’t bother me. I knew
what was behind Duncan Reever’s mask.
“You promised me you’d stay away from the prep
unit.”
“As you assured me that you would only work
standard shifts.” He slipped an arm around my waist and
guided me to the cleanser unit. “Why are you covered in
blood this time?”
“Simulated blood.” I bent over the basin and
vigorously cleaned my teeth and rinsed my mouth, then I
checked my reflection. Still a short, dark-haired, blue-eyed
Terran. Maybe a little thinner than usual. I splashed my
face with cold water. “Vlaav had another go at a Terran
torso on the training simulator.”
He folded his arms and leaned against the wall beside
me. “And?”
“And the torso lost.” I groped for a towel. “Make a
note—if I ever need surgery, don’t let him near me. You
do it.”
“Hold still.” Reever held me by the shoulder and
blotted my face like I was a messy little kid. “You are
trembling. You must eat, wife.”
He liked calling me that. Pleased and annoyed, I blew a
piece of damp hair out of my eyes. “You don’t run my
life, husband.”
Two badly scarred hands cradled my face, and before
I could say another word I got thoroughly kissed. Reever
raised his head after my pulse skyrocketed and I started
wrinkling the front of his tunic.
“How do you feel?”
“Pregnant.” I grinned as his hand went automatically to
my abdomen, and spread over the tiny life growing in
there. His fascination with the baby aroused all kinds of
feelings in me. Not strictly of the maternal variety, either.
“Stop that. You’re befuddling me.”
“Cherijo.” His palm made slow circles on my stomach.
“Come back to our quarters with me.”
I wanted to. Even after two months of living with
Reever, I still hadn’t quite made up for lost time. But then
there was Vlaav. “Not now. I need to talk to my resident
about taking a refresher course in Why We Employ
Anesthesia Before We Cut.”
“Do it tomorrow. Come back with me now.” His
mouth landed on mine again, long enough to make me
really wrinkle the front of his tunic. Against my lips, he
said, “I want to sleep with you, beloved.”
“Oh really?” Vlaav could practice sterilizing
instruments. “Then you shouldn’t have kissed me like
that.”
I dragged him off to our quarters.
Several hours later, I left our sleeping platform and
went to check on the ship’s status. I didn’t want to wake
Reever, so I left off the lights and audio. I pretended I
wasn’t sick to my stomach, and covered in a glassy
sweat. But I was.
The nightmares did that to me.
This time I hadn’t relived the horrors of the past. No,
this bad dream had sprung from a signal I’d received from
the Sunlace earlier that day. The latest batch of test results
weren’t too promising. Squilyp, the Omorr Senior Healer
on the Jorenian ship, wanted to perform another series.
No drastic decisions about what to do could be made yet.
Mostly because I hadn’t told Reever about the
problem.
Guilt had made me dream about what his reaction
would be when he finally heard the news. Reever shoving
me away. Reever flying off in a shuttle. Reever leaving me
for good.
Reever won’t leave. It was only a dream, let it go.
According to the vidisplay, the L.T.F. Perpetua was
close to Te Abanor, our next scheduled stop. We were
halfway through our mission to return all the Catopsan
slaves to their homeworlds.
Where’s the Sunlace? I checked the external viewer and
located the other ship off our port side. Hi, guys.
My adopted family, HouseClan Torin, manned the
Jorenian star vessel Sunlace. My adopted big brother,
Xonea Torin, had been adamant about escorting us during
the mission. Once that was over, they’d probably go
exploring the galaxy again.
I wasn’t sure if we’d tag along. League mercenaries
were still hunting me, and rumor had it the Hsktskt Faction
had recently put out their own bounty on me.
That thought made me look at the third ship in our little
fleet—the Truman. My creator, Joseph Grey Veil, had
sent the unarmed, drone-piloted League vessel from Terra
as a gift for me—some sort of gesture of truce or
something. Reever and the Jorenians had thoroughly
checked it out before towing it along with us. Personally
I’d never liked Joe’s present, and regularly expressed my
desire to see someone blow it to smithereens.
Reever was more practical. We may need to make use
of it, Cherijo.
I cleared the screen and accessed a new file I’d been
working on since we’d escaped the Hsktskt. Being
pregnant made me realize how important it was for me to
record the facts behind the strange twists my life had
taken over the last three years.
I want you to know the truth, lump. I spread my hand
over my still-flat abdomen. You wouldn’t be able to hear
the whole story from anyone else but me.
I scanned through the entries I’d already made about
what had happened from the day I’d left Terra. The file
headers read like ads for one of the space operas so
popular on my homeworld.
Promising thoracic surgeon discovers she’s a
genetically enhanced human clone.
Clone escapes brilliant but insane scientist creator.
Insane creator pursues runaway clone across the
galaxy.
I’d spent my first year of independence as a trauma
physician on Kevarzangia Two, treating nonhumans. My
love affair with an alien pilot named Kao Torin had
collided with a race to cure a mysterious plague. The fight
for my own freedom came soon after, when my creator
Joseph Grey Veil had tried to reclaim me as property.
HouseClan Torin had come to the rescue, just in time for
me to watch Kao die in my arms. Worse, I’d killed him
with a transfusion of my own poisonous blood.
I closed my eyes for a moment. Kao, I hope you
forgive me for what I did. Maybe someday I can do the
same.
The next entries covered the year I’d served as Senior
Healer on the Sunlace. Where I still might be, if not for a
demented killer and the Allied League of Worlds. We’d
caught the killer, but the League had cornered us on Joren.
The Hsktskt had arrived on the scene to make things even
more interesting.
I’d been oblivious to everything but saving Joren,
which meant betraying the League to the Hsktskt. Finding
out my own husband was a Hsktskt collaborator had
shattered our marriage.
Being a slave doctor had been about as much fun. So
had enduring torture, and discovering some of the guards
were actually eating the prisoners alive. Healing and
befriending a disfigured female Hsktskt guard had nearly
salvaged my sanity. Until she’d sacrificed her life to
protect me.
We’re almost done with this mission, I wrote in my
new file. Still I think I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to
atone for my mistakes.
“As will I.”
I jumped and swore. Reever had gotten out of bed and
presently stood directly behind me. His warm palms slid
over my shoulders as I frowned up at him.
“You scared me. Cough or something next time.”
“I apologize. What are you working on?”
“A journal file.” I felt my cheeks burn. “It’s for the
baby. What’s this ‘as will I’ business?”
“You are not the only one with regrets, Cherijo.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You were
great—putting your life on the line, pretending to work for
the Hsktskt while you were smuggling slaves off
Catopsa,” I said. “What have you got to feel bad about?
Even the Jorenians forgave you, and you know how they
feel about revenge.”
He reached over, saved the entry, and deactivated the
console before swinging my chair around. “Why don’t
you write about your own victories?”
“I am.”
“Did you enter the data about the thousands of lives on
K-2 and millions on Joren that you saved?”
I shook my head. “That was pure luck.”
He took my hairbrush from the vanity unit and started
untangling my hair. He liked doing that. “Luck had nothing
to do with the destruction of the slave depot on Catopsa.”
“That was luck and a working relationship with a
sentient crystal,” I pointed out, enjoying the soothing
sensations the long, slow strokes through my hair sent
over my scalp and down my spine.
摘要：

SHOCKBALLS.L.ViehlAStardocnovel-04EbookLiberationFrontdigitalback-upedition1.0clickforscannotesandproofinghistoryvalidXHTML1.0strictContents·PARTONE:MATERNITYo1:NascentInanityo2:Separationso3:Endamagedo4:TheInevitableo5:DancingwithChristopher·PARTTWO:PATERNITYo6:Leyaneyaniteho7:Choiceso8:Topsideo9:M...

展开>> 收起<<
S. L. Viehl - Stardoc 04 - Shockball.pdf

共358页,预览72页

还剩页未读， 继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

相关推荐

更多
立即下载
分类：外语学习 价格：5.9玖币 属性：358 页 大小：743.46KB 格式：PDF 时间：2024-12-20

开通VIP享超值会员特权

  • 多端同步记录
  • 高速下载文档
  • 免费文档工具
  • 分享文档赚钱
  • 每日登录抽奖
  • 优质衍生服务

作者详情

相关内容

更多

热门标签

人际关系 配电装置 动力学连接体 力的合成 高考理综 全宋诗作者索引 公务员考试
/ 358
评分 收藏
分享
立即下载 VIP免费下载
客服
关注