The Red King - Michael A. Martin [75]
“You’re right, Suran. We must act,” Donatra said, her eyes lingering on the bandages that still swathed Suran’s head.
Suran noticed her stare and scowled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are you sure you’re feeling well, Suran?”
Suran’s scowled deepened. “I’m fine.”
Donatra assayed her most serious I’m-terribly-concerned-about-you expression. “You’ve gone as pale as a Reman, Commander.”
“Nonsense.”
“Dr. Venora wasn’t very happy when you checked yourself out of the infirmary.”
“Venora’s never very happy,” Suran said with a grim laugh.
Donatra nodded toward the centurion. “Take over up here, Liravek. Get the fleet under way.”
Liravek rose again from his seat and again saluted smartly, though his countenance betrayed a look of growing confusion. Was he becoming suspicious? “At once, Commander Donatra.”
She turned and strode toward the lift doors. “I need to speak with you, Suran. Alone.”
Stepping into the lift, Donatra saw the thunderclouds gathering behind her colleague’s bandaged brow. He stepped into the lift with her.
“Infirmary,” she said once the doors had closed.
“I haven’t the time for this,” he said. Turning his face toward the ceiling, he said, “Computer, halt lift.”
But the lift continued. “I have overridden the lift’s voice-command protocols, Suran.”
“Why?” Suran asked, the suspicion in his voice now plainly evident. “Do you believe me somehow unfit for duty, Donatra?”
“That depends upon what you decide to do next. How long has it been since you last visited Dr. Venora?”
“You know I’ve been a bit busy since my release from the infirmary, Donatra.”
“You released yourself,” Donatra reminded him yet again. “Now that we have recovered the fleet and have gotten it under way, I insist that you make some time to visit the good doctor. Now.”
“I will decide if and when I visit the infirmary, Commander.”
Donatra reached quietly into her tunic pouch. She sighed, truly regretting what she had to do next. “I’m afraid I must insist.”
Suran froze as his eyes lit on the small disruptor unit in her right hand, which she leveled straight at his lungs. At that moment, he truly did look as pale as any Reman.
“This is tantamount to mutiny, Donatra!”
She made a brushing-away gesture with her left hand. “Nonsense. Unless you mean to imply that I’m your subordinate. We are equals in rank, Commander.”
Suran seemed to ignore the point. “You can’t fire that without setting off every security alarm on the ship.” But he remained still, clearly not willing to test his assertion. After all, if she had tampered with the lift command protocols, how could he count on the security alarms?
Donatra allowed her left hand to fall to her side, where it moved toward a second pocket on her tunic.
The lift settled to a stop, and the doors whisked open, revealing Dr. Venora standing near the threshold. No one else was visible in the corridor beyond, which led directly to the infirmary entrance. That, Donatra knew, was a detail that Venora had arranged.
“So you’re in on this, too, Doctor,” Suran said, turning toward the Valdore’s chief medical officer. He moved into a defensive crouch, as though daring Venora to attack him.
Never, ever turn your back on me, Suran, Donatra thought, removing the hypo from her left tunic pocket. Striking with the speed of a jhimn adder, she emptied its contents into Suran’s neck.
Suran turned toward her, eyes blazing, before sagging insensate toward the deck. Donatra caught his limp form on its way down, hoisting him up and draping one flaccid arm across her back. Venora picked up and pocketed Donatra’s hypo and disruptor, then assisted Donatra and Suran out of the lift, down the empty corridor, and into the infirmary, where several officers, all injured during the Valdore’s passage through the Great Bloom, still lay recuperating. Moments later the unconscious Suran lay safely on one of the infirmary beds, Venora standing