Chapter Twenty-Seven
That same evening, she entered sickbay for two reasons. First, to check on the remaining warriors still in the infirmary, and to ask Juna a few unanswered questions. As she made a quick round through the warriors, she was at the next-to-the-last bed, and the next-to-last patient, when she stopped with her hand on the partition, surprised to hear Eryn’s voice.
It was weak, and she was in obvious discomfort. Still, Maggie had known her for years and would recognize her voice anywhere.
“Kill me, doc,” she was saying. “Take a photon blaster and put an end to my misery.”
“No one is going to shoot you,” a deep voice replied.
Maggie hesitated, as did Eryn, for there was a long silence.
“Ram.” She practically choked on his name, such was her surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard you were sick.”
“No, I mean here. On the Odyssey.”
“I traveled with the general on the Dauntless. What ailment do you have?”
Another pause then she replied in a bitter tone. “I’m surprised that you care.”
“I do not.” Maggie’s breath caught in her throat at his matter-of-fact response. Eryn wasn’t exaggerating when she had shared that there was no love lost between them.
“However, when I learned you were the only female that had sickened, I became curious. Did you drink the poison, too, or is it something else? Is it separation sickness? I need to know.”
The bed creaked. Through a break in the divider, Maggie saw Eryn roll over and pull the covers up to her chin as a shiver hit her. “For me to be ill from separation would have required a bond, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“We both know that didn’t occur.”
“You’re certain? I’ll want the medical team to confirm it.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“I’m afraid it is,” he insisted.
“What’s with you distrustful Primarians?”
“My experience with Earth females hasn’t given me much reason to trust, Eryn, in particular, you.”
“You’re off the hook, Ram.” All emotion had leached out of her voice. “My doctor has
determined it to be a case of stomach flu. Something we humans get from time to time. You can stop worrying and forget all about me. Our torment is ended. Go on with your life, as I will with mine.”
“That is the only nice thing you’ve ever said to me.” His words dripped with sarcasm.
Eryn’s did not, when she replied softly, “No, it isn’t.”
He stared at her, and Maggie could tell by the expression on his face he remembered whatever it was Eryn referred to, and he was not pleased.
“Maggie,” the man in the bed behind her called out. “Did you need something else?”
She twisted with a finger to her lips, hoping he would understand the universal signal for silence and give it to her.
“It’s best if you don’t mention that to me ever again,” Ram was saying in a scary, angry voice. What in the world had gone on between them?
“Agreed. And, since I’ll be remaining on Earth when we get there, it should be something easy to do.”
“Maker willing, for your sake, our paths won’t cross again.” With this last awful declaration, Master Warrior Ramekin left, striding from the sickbay without looking back.
“What are you doing?” the warrior in the bed next to her inquired.
This time when she answered him, she was more precise. “I was listening and needed you to be quiet.”
“You were eavesdropping?” he asked, patently shocked.
“No, we’re, um… investigating. You know, to find out why everyone got sick, and I thought this might be important.”
He raised a brow at her blatant lie, yet didn’t say anything more.
“You didn’t tell him.” Another voice in Eryn’s cubicle had Maggie spinning around. Juna now stood beside her bed.
“There is nothing to tell,” Eryn responded vehemently.
“We don’t know that for sure,” the doctor argued. “If there’s a remote possibility.”
“I know that there isn’t, and so do you, Doc. Besides, anything I choose to relate to my ex-mate is up to me to decide, don’t you think?”
“Unfortunately, Eryn, it isn’t up to you. And he has the law on his side.” She also left, her words confusing Maggie all the further.
Eryn sighed heavily and rolled over on her bed. Facing her now, Maggie noted her pallor, and how her features were set in a painful grimace, which Maggie didn’t think came from her mysterious illness, because she spotted a tear on her cheek. In the ten years she’d known Chief Eryn Lockwood, she’d never seen her cry.
Puzzled, she moved away from the partition.
“Well,” her reluctant warrior accomplice insisted. “Did you learn who was behind it all?”
“No,” she grumbled, “and now I have more questions than before I walked in here.”
It was her turn to leave someone in confusion as she, too, made her way out of the sickbay. First Lana, now Eryn: two of her crew’s matings hadn’t taken, and both women, and their former mates, were miserable. Eryn so much so she was ill, or was it really what she’d told Ram, the stomach flu? She didn’t believe it for a moment; the woman hadn’t been sick a day since the Odyssey launched.
Something was terribly wrong, and her frustration was she didn’t have a clue what to do about it or an inkling more about who was set on sabotaging their mission. Lost in thought, she wandered through the halls, not acknowledging, and barely noticing, the others who called to her in greeting.