After what seemed to be an interminable time, but was probably no more than a few minutes, the machine gave him the results. She had been poisoned, but the antivenom had been received in time. Her body was burning through the remnants of the poison, but she was dehydrated and that had exacerbated her condition. The diagnosis recommended a short temporary period of unconsciousness while the bed administered fluids and nutrition. He approved the treatment plan and sagged against the wall in relief.
She would be fine. He hadn’t lost her due to his foolish mistakes.
George chirped inquisitively.
“She’ll be fine,” he promised, stroking the lizard’s small head. “And as soon as her treatment is complete, we’ll see what it can do about your leg.”
He hated to leave her, but now that his fears had been put to rest, his thoughts went back to the rest of the party.
“I have to go back and help the others,” he said, before he remembered that he was talking to an animal. But George bobbed his head as if he understood. “I’m going to leave you here with her and lock the ship behind me. You will both be safe.”
Once again, George seemed to bob his head in agreement, and Varga wondered just how much the animal really understood. He placed George carefully on a padded chair where he could keep watch on the medical bed and hurried back to the entrance. He only paused long enough to grab a couple of traveling cloaks—they would be too big, but they would provide some protection—before returning to the hangar.
Baahy’s body was where he’d left it, starting to emit an unpleasant smell, but he ignored it as he headed back to the entrance. Just as he reached it, he caught sight of a tall, dark figure rounding the spur of rock. Issar. Taliane was still in his arms, and the others were huddled around him like lost infants.
Varga reached them just as Polly swayed and started to crumple to the ground. He reached for her, but despite her exhaustion, she started to struggle. After a quick exchange of glances with Issar, Varga gave her a careful blow under her ear. Her body immediately went still, and he wrapped her in one of the cloaks as Issar nodded approvingly.
“What did you do?” Rummel demanded.
“I knocked her out. She’s too exhausted to walk but too terrified to let me carry her.”
“You can carry me,” Saka purred, but despite the provocative words, he could hear her exhaustion and simply ignored the suggestion, handing her another cloak.
Rummel grunted but made no further protest, peering up at Varga instead. “How’s Joan?”
“She will be fine,” he said, relief sweeping through him once again. “She’s currently receiving treatment but she should be awake soon.”
Rummel grunted again, and the party went the rest of the way in silence until Saka spotted Baahy’s body and snarled. The male’s face was swollen almost beyond recognition, but she didn’t seem to have any doubt about who was lying there.
“You don’t know how often I wished that bastard would die,” she said softly, standing over his body.
She pulled back her foot to kick at him but Varga stopped her. “He was poisoned. I don’t know what it would take to spread the poison.”
“I hope he died in agony.”
“He did,” he assured her and gently urged her in the direction of the ship.
As soon as everyone was on the ship, he checked on Joan—still sleeping—and George—still watching over her—and headed for the bridge. He wanted off this planet. Now.
As he passed through the lounge, he noticed Issar passing out water bottles and protein bars to the others and nodded approvingly. He could do with sustenance himself, but it could wait until after they were in flight.
As he initiated the startup sequence, the comm light blinked. After a moment’s hesitation, he accepted the message.
“Is that you, Varga?”
He gave a relieved sigh as he recognized Nepala’s voice. “It is. We are just about to leave. It appears that your revolution was successful.”
“On the whole, yes.” Nepala’s voice was tired but triumphant. “However, there is one small problem and I was wondering if you could assist.”
“We’re leaving,” he repeated, ignoring the twinge of guilt.
“I know, and I’m not trying to stop you, but I wondered if you had any weapons.”
“Very few,” he admitted, thinking of his limited arsenal. “But I could drop them off if you tell me where to leave them.”
“Not that kind of weapon. I meant the ship’s equipment. You see, the remaining guards have barricaded themselves in their quarters, and I’m not sure how long it will take us to break through. But if someone could cause sufficient damage from the outside…”
Varga started to laugh. Although luxury yachts were not supposed to be equipped with weapons, his had not only come with an assortment of powerful—and illegal—weapons, he had added a few extras over the years.
“That I can handle. Is there anything I need to avoid?”
“If you could avoid damaging the hangar, that would be helpful. We are considering attempting to run the mine on our own.”
Varga thought back to the harshness of his own upbringing on Sorvid and shuddered. But even though it had been a hard, dangerous life, the fact that they had been working for themselves made a difference. He thought of his friend Draka, refusing to leave Sorvid because he had accepted his existence. Nepala’s plan might work. He caught the sound of a distant cheer from
