Interlude-Transplant

(Starspeak)

"You can't stay here," Macoru insisted.

"I can handle the planet just fine," Ingrid protested. "And I'm not going to stay here!"

"But you want to stay," Mavriste said, "which is why Mac wasn't talking about the planet."

Ingrid sulked.

She was trying to help them out, but all they could focus on was her relationship with Cadrune. What was left of it anyway…

"[So not the point,]" Ingrid sighed. She cast a furtive glance around to make sure she wouldn't be overheard.

Mavriste and Macoru had been quite particular laying down boundaries for the visit to Cadrune's estate; Ingrid couldn't go inside. So one of the estate's staff had directed them to a pavilion-pagoda-structure in the gardens.

Caleb had hung back for a few moments to talk with Halax, and the staff had departed to grab water for anyone who wanted it.

No better chance than now.

"I only wanted to come to Cadrune to get a message to you two," Ingrid said quietly.

"What message?" Macoru asked.

"It's more like I need advice," she said. "I know something, and I don't know who I should tell."

"You don't want to tell Caleb?" Mavriste asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I absolutely want to tell him, and there's big consequences if I don't," Ingrid said. "But…"

"There's big consequences if you do," Macoru gathered, nodding sympathetically.

Mavriste took a more direct approach.

"Spill. There's only so much advice we can give without details."

"I—" Ingrid cut herself off, eyes locking onto Caleb walking up the garden path with Halax in tow.

Apparently their discussion hadn't taken long.

"—wonder what you two were chatting all secretly about," Ingrid said, forcing her voice to stay steady and casual.

"Oh, just gambling the future of humanity on this scrape," Caleb said nonchalantly, jutting his head toward Halax.

"Really? The whole future of your people?" Mavriste shifted conversations effortlessly, not giving off the slightest indication. "Chopper made it sound like you two were barely civil."

"Chopper?" Caleb asked.

Halax physically cringed at the nickname.

"It was what we called him in school," Mavriste said.

"He didn't so much 'swim' as much as he did 'flail' in the water," Macoru chuckled. "Halax had this way of bringing his hand down…"

She pantomimed a chopping motion, and Mavriste broke out in fresh laughter.

"So good to catch up with you too," he said dryly.

"What's the deal with Cadrune?" Caleb asked. "They have any criminal insights into…that thing?"

He'd forgotten that Mavriste and Macoru weren't privy to the manhunt for Shuma Norshun. Just for a moment, but still.

"Does it look like we've gotten to see them?" Ingrid asked.

"It looks like they need to tip the gardener," Caleb said. Looking across the gardens, they'd seen better days. But given that the windspeed hadn't dipped below thirty miles-per-hour in the last three days, the hedges and flowerbeds were in astonishing condition. "What's taking so long?"

Ingrid glared at him.

Caleb, to his credit, actually looked sheepish.

"Sorry. You think I don't like Halax? Cadrune's a thousand times worse," he said. "I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

Ingrid spared a glance toward Macoru and Mavriste. She desperately needed to continue her conversation with them, but trying to hide a psionic exchange under Caleb's nose was a doomed effort.

"What's your [beef] with them?" she asked him, trying to move the conversation.

"I'm going to assume you mean beside the suspected filicide, corruption, and surely jaywalking?"

Ingrid nodded.

"Oh is that all?" Mavriste drawled.

"I just think it's [fucked up] to try keeping a person around as a pet," he said, meeting Ingrid's gaze.

The sentence was so stunning, Ingrid forgot all about the conversation she needed to continue with the M&Ms.

"[W-what?]" she sputtered.

Mavriste and Macoru stayed a little more composed than Ingrid, but no less shocked.

"You disagree?" Caleb asked.

"Yes!" Ingrid said.

"They feed you, house you, show you off to guests," he rattled off. "I'm not saying you were chipped with a collar or anything, but come on."

"You come on! 'Shows me off to guests?' Are you joking?" Ingrid hissed.

Except…

There actually were a few times in the last year visitors to the estate had asked about her. Most of the time, Ingrid had reverted to being a ten-year-old, staying in her room. But she'd poked her head out a couple of those times and caught a glimpse of the bigwigs Cadrune had invited over.

And Ingrid remembered thinking offhand that she was like a cat, getting all shy when strangers came through the front door.

"I know Cadrune's probably a monster," she admitted. "But they helped me."

"They helped themselves," Caleb said. "I'm not saying Cadrune doesn't… care, in their own screwed up way. But you slid into some pretty terrible behavior, and Cadrune was more than willing to let you wallow in it."

Ingrid's mind went back to her friends back on Hashtin's moons.

Klaus. Aaron. Marika. Christina. Willy.

Certain death looming over her head had demanded she leave them. Like a dog, dragging itself away from its pack to die. Cadrune wasn't alone, were they? Ingrid had treated herself as something less than human too.

Now she knew better. She wasn't going to die, but it didn't offer her any comfort. How could she ever go back? What could she even say?

All that was assuming this business with Shuma Norshun didn't explode in their faces…which dragged her back to the dilemma she was so eager to resolve.

God, this was too much. She really had been wallowing. For more than a year now.

…

One bite at a time. It was how even ants could devour an elephant.

She could worry about facing her friends once she finally left Kraknor.

Part of her felt guilty that she was just avoiding that problem for the time being, but she had to remind herself it was a moot point; as long as Shuma Norshun was at large? None of them were going anywhere.

"…Maybe it is a good idea that I don't talk to Cadrune," she admitted, guilt gnawing at her belly from the inside.

"I'll talk to them," Caleb said, holding out a hand like to catch something. "Just give me what you wanted the miserable old coot to look at."

Ingrid materialized a token embedded with the psionic documents in question and threw it to him, trying to convince herself that it was just as risky to tell Caleb as it was to keep quiet.

Caleb took only a moment to inspect the psionics within before walking toward the manor.

"Hey, Chopper—" Mavriste started, but Halax glared at him. "Ba, go with him, would you? Ingrid mentioned she left some stuff in her room here, and Caleb probably won't be able to carry it all."

Halax shrugged, going along with it.

"…Smooth," Macoru said. Once again, they were alone.

"You know about Caleb's big secret peace summit?" she asked.

Macoru and Mavriste nodded vaguely.

"No details, but we picked up the basic idea."

"Well it crashed and burned," Ingrid said. "Long story short, Caleb has to help hunt a fugitive or authorities will consider it a violation of the visas."

"And he doesn't want to get deported?" Mavriste asked.

"No, if he doesn't follow the existing agreement to the letter, the military will get involved and detain him," Ingrid said. "The problem is I figured out who the fugitive is, and who's helping them."

Macoru blinked, looking back at the sprawling manor.

"Look, I know Cadrune's not the worst monster on this continent, but if you're feeling conflicted about—"

Mavriste cut her off.

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"She's not talking about a criminal connected to Cadrune," he said. "Are you?"

"No," Ingrid said.

"Ah."

The silence hung ominously.

"What do I do?" Ingrid asked helplessly. "If I say nothing, I'm just betraying other humans again. But if I share what I figured out, you guys are screwed."

"You share it," Mavriste said, zero hesitation.

"Mav!"

"I'm right," he insisted, looking his sister dead in the eye. "You'd really tell her to lie to her friends and family just to make things more convenient for us?"

"…No," Macoru admitted. "But calling it 'inconvenient' would be calling a seed a meal."

"They're not my family," Ingrid said lamely.

"They're the closest thing you've got right now," Mavriste said.

"What does that make you then?" Ingrid said. "Maybe you're not family, but you guys were even kinder to me than Cadrune was, and I gave them a lot of benefit of the doubt…I feel like I'm betraying you guys just thinking about telling Caleb."

Macoru flicked Ingrid's forehead.

"Quit that. I appreciate you feeling the urge to help us, but…"

"But you need to remember who's really on your side," Mavriste said. "Caleb came to this planet with the express intention of helping you and finding a corpse on the side. Trust me? You don't want to spit on that."

"Would it be too much to…[fuck!] I don't know! What if I waited until you guys were out of the city at least?" Ingrid tried.

"I don't think you want Caleb to get detained by any military," Mavriste said.

"No, but if I just tell him right now, this becomes a fight! I don't want any fighting over this!"

Both the M&Ms adopted the same somber expression.

"Ingrid…there's going to be a fight anyway," Macoru said. "It's possible to avoid every fight, but people aren't perfect. Mistakes happen and sometimes you're trapped in a situation where you can't avoid the fight anymore."

Ingrid couldn't accept that.

How was she supposed to pick a side? Even if she did nothing, it would be sabotaging Caleb. Sooner or later someone else would put together the truth. And if it wasn't one of the Flotilla's people…

Caleb and the Jack's crew would look damningly chummy with Macoru and Mavriste.

Part of Ingrid's mind went to learning about emergency landing procedures for aircraft. There was always some small optimization, some switch to try that might restore function to the plane or enable a safer landing.

But every pilot could imagine what it was like for all of those to fail. There would be some moments before impact where there was just nothing you could do but watch the plane hurtle to earth.

"I-I can't," she said. "You might as well just ask me to shoot you right now!"

"Yeah. That's probably your best move," Mavriste said kindly. He didn't move. His sister wasn't set in defensive footing.

Ingrid realized even if she materialized a gun right there, they wouldn't stop her.

She was a coward. It was why she'd run away from her own friends when she was dying. She couldn't even face sympathy from friends. How could she stab a friend, right to their face?

Macoru and Mavriste were being supportive, earnest, and genuine too.

"This would be a lot easier if you were terrible people," she lamented. Learning more about Cadrune had certainly made it easier to walk away.

Macoru and Mavriste traded a knowing look.

"Do you know the real meaning of taking responsibility?" Macoru asked Ingrid. She knelt on the garden stones, bringing their eyes level.

Ingrid couldn't answer. It took all she had in her to hold back tears.

"Most Vorak cultures have an idea of 'yoke' or 'bag'. It's where you're responsible for your own lot. You dive into a shoal, and the weight of the clams you put in your bag is your own responsibility. However much weight you grab, you have to drag it back to the surface yourself," Macoru said. "From what I've read about Casti and Farnata, every species has some idea about taking responsibility. Oher cultures look primarily at the 'responsibility'. But Vorak cultures—at least the one Mav and I grew up in—it's a lot more focused on the 'taking'. Sometimes people dive for too much weight, and they can't make it up on their own. When that happens, sometimes another rak will swoop in and take the bag out of your hands and without such a burden you can survive, make it back to the surface. Some cultures considered that theft—even though it saves a life. You could be punished for it. You said it yourself, there would be consequences if you say nothing. Are you really willing to see those consequences happen? To other people, no less? You really… care about us that much? We met last year and then didn't meet again until the last week."

"…I just know that it feels like I'd be betraying you guys," Ingrid said.

"Yeah. Well, I'm sorry, but I don't think we can accept that," Macoru said quietly.

"What?"

"Sometimes taking responsibility means stealing a choice from someone," Mavriste explained. "Mac and I would rather betray you…than force you to make that choice."

A sharp pinprick went into her arm.

"Hey!"

Mavriste had slowly moved through her peripheral vision and snuck up beside her. He held a spent syringe in his hand, and numbness quickly spread up Ingrid's arm.

It took only a few seconds for unconsciousness to sweep in, leaving her just lucid enough to catch a psionic signal go out.

<Caleb! Ingrid's passed out. Get back here.>

·····

Madeline's flight rotors ground to a halt as she touched down inside the manor gates. She dematerialized her wings and dashed toward the gardens.

Caleb, Macoru, and a Vorak that looked like one of the estate staff were gathered around an unconscious Ingrid, laid down on a lounging chair.

A number of other staff were gathered in clumps around the periphery, but they were all keeping their distance. Caleb was oozing psionic irritation, hostility, and anger that everyone picked up on, consciously or otherwise.

"Harpe Gomi, hold her up, please," Caleb said, shining a light into Ingrid's eyes.

The staff member helped prop Ingrid up enough for Caleb to inspect Ingrid's pupils, but she was completely out cold.

"Hey," Madeline said breathlessly. "I got the call. Does she need to be moved?"

"I thought so, but her heartbeat is holding steady," Caleb said, nodding to some of the medical equipment that had been hastily clamped to Ingrid's arm. "She's breathing fine too. I don't think she's sick…"

"I'd say she almost looks sedated," Macoru chimed in. "Except she didn't eat or drink anything."

Caleb dove into his own mind, chewing through a dozen possibilities in just a few seconds.

Madeline put a hand on his shoulder.

<Keep your cool,> she tried to reassure him.

To her surprise, he actually did. Some of the psionic 'edge' coming off him waned, and he forced an uneasy breath in and out.

"Thanks for that," he said. "Thanks for coming so quickly too. Help me get her back to the spaceport?"

"Is she safe to transport?" Madeline asked.

"I have no clue," Caleb said. "But she didn't hit her head or spine, so I don't think she's at risk for any of those injuries, and I don't want to leave her here."

"Caleb, do you need anything from me or Mav?" Macoru asked.

"No," he said dismissively. "You've already been a big help."

"Okay. Just wanted to give you the heads up our Marines are departing this evening, heading north. So if you need anything?"

"I know how to contact you," Caleb nodded.

"My gut says she'll be fine," Macoru offered. "In the meantime? Good luck."

The Vorak grabbed her brother and the two of them departed, giving Cadrune an unfriendly look on their way out. A moment or two later, a motorbike's engine roared to life and peeled away.

Everyone's attention was on the unconscious Ingrid then. Madeline and Caleb were quick to materialize a basic spinal board to carry her back to the vehicle, despite Cadrune's protests.

Surely they hadn't somehow drugged Ingrid, had they?

"Nobody ate or drank anything?" Madeline asked.

"No," Caleb confirmed. "Cadrune trying to slip her something was my first thought too. But I was right in front of them when we both heard. They were as surprised as I was."

"Her vitals still stable?" Halax asked.

"You thinking her heart?"

"Transplants can fail," the rak said.

"That was my second thought," he said. "But her blood oxygenation is fine, and her blood pressure is within the bounds the Org wrote for us."

"So this is a 'wait-and-see' situation," Halax surmised.

"I'll feel a lot better about waiting and seeing after we get her in front of some more qualified medical opinions than what Dyn and Nerin are feeding me through Jordan."

"What?" Halax asked, confused.

Madeline glanced between Caleb and the rak driving. Halax hadn't been told about Jordan's ansible psionics, and Caleb was no doubt exploiting her creation to trade messages with the Flotilla's medical minds in real time.

"I said the Flotilla had a faster-than-light communication method, didn't I?" Caleb said.

"It's Jordan?" Halax asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Caleb said, refusing to elaborate further. "Just drive."

The rak did so, but silence quickly filled the car and Caleb apparently couldn't let it sit.

"Madeline what's our manhunt looking like?"

"…You are trying to distract yourself from Ingrid by focusing on work, and I am completely on board," Madeline said. It was best to be supportive with so many unknowns in play.

"That's it exactly," Caleb said. He was trying to sound funny and unconcerned that his 'vacation's' principal rescue might be dying in the car's back seat. "My brain is in 'get us off planet [ASAP]' mode, and that means finishing this manhunt quickly."

It was funny. Put Caleb against armed Adepts and he wouldn't even blink. But a mystery affliction on his fellow abductee? He was sweating bullets.

"We were reviewing Gogathi records and exactly what Shuma actually destroyed in their escape," she answered. "Avi really wants a better picture in case their appearance needs to be publicized."

What pictures the investigation was working with were fuzzy and from a distance. Shuma had been very thorough to destroy almost all the government records of their existence when they disappeared.

Madeline didn't know exactly what century Gogathi record keeping was stuck in, but incident reports described Shuma destroying computer and paper files, as well as backups for both. She couldn't believe anyone had managed to get completely off the grid in this day and age, even on an alien planet.

But Shuma had just about pulled it off.

"We've got plenty of irons in the fire," Caleb said. "I'm willing to bide our time and energy, make sure this is just Ingrid getting heat stroke or something manageable."

"You think in this manhunt, Shuma's going to come to us?" Halax snorted.

"No, I think we're so far behind that waiting for better information only helps us," Caleb said. "Avi and his task force have been following every last false trail for months now with nothing to show for it. We need to do something different or we're going to still be on this planet next year."

"That sounds nice, but we also need to make sure we do something," Halax insisted. "Just sitting around doing nothing won't catch anyone either."

Caleb gave Halax an annoyed psionic prod. Madeline almost jabbed the rak too.

Ingrid was completely unconscious in the vehicle's backseat, head lolling limply against the brace materialized around her neck. It wouldn't take more than a few hours to learn something about her condition.

So for the meantime, Caleb was right. It was fine to keep bulletproofing theories and leads, but there were more pressing matters demanding their attention.

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