She had no training as a fighter. It would have shown up in her records.
But then she’d had no computer training either, that he’d known of, and look at what she had done in the medical lab.
The medical lab. Where she had gotten her weapons.
Then somehow she had snuck up here without letting the computer know where she was and nearly taken over the bridge.
Nearly taken over his ship.
He was shaking. She could have killed him.
He collected the laser scalpel and its friends—she had hidden two more—as well as the hypos. He found cydoleen pills in her pocket and recognized them as extreme antitoxins. He put those back. The medical personas had probably given them to her to help with the contamination.
Then he searched the rest of her, finding two more scalpels—one against her ankle and another between her breasts.
He set all the makeshift weapons aside, dragged her to a chair on the far side of the bridge, and threw her in it. She listed to one side. She was covered in blood—and it looked like he had broken her nose.
“Computer, lock her into zero-g position in Chair Six.”
The chair closed around her, so that she couldn’t float. Zero-g position also kept her a prisoner, unable to move, unable to set herself free without the proper commands.
Still, he made sure. This woman was smarter than he had given her credit for.
“Release her on my command only.”
The computer cheeped its affirmative.
Her head lolled forward, hair covering her face.
Yu studied her for an extra minute, stunned she had gotten so close.
Then he examined his wounds.
His thigh was cut open. She’d barely missed the artery. He would need some medical attention to close the wound properly, but that one wasn’t life threatening.
Neither was the wound on his side. He’d lost a chunk of skin, but nothing else. He didn’t know enough about his own internal anatomy to know if she’d gotten close to anything important.
But his hand was an issue. He could see the bones and the connective tissue, some of it severed. The pain was exquisite.
Repairing that might take more than three cheap medical programs and some bandages. He’d probably have to stop at some space dock and have a real expert repair his hand.
Or replace it.
He shuddered, then he kicked Chair Six. The woman’s head lolled to the other side. Blood dripped from her nose. Yu’d done some damage of his own.
He was pleased about that. He’d leave her untreated. She could feel the pain for a while.
Behind him, the computer cooed. That was a different kind of alert, to let him know that whatever he’d been working on had succeeded.
In this case, he’d been trying to get into the medical lab. The computer had finally broken through whatever she had set up.
He turned to the nearest console and saw images of the medical bay.
Nafti was crumpled on the diagnostic table, clearly dead. None of the medical avatars had appeared around him. So much for state of the art. Somehow Nafti had been murdered in the very place that should have saved his life.
Dammit. Yu had liked Nafti, no matter how much of a worrier the man had been. The big dumb lug wouldn’t complain any more. He’d been so worried about dying from a disease that he probably hadn’t realized he was in more danger from the woman.
Nafti had underestimated her.
They both had.
And Nafti had paid for it with his life.
Yu limped to the medical lab. He thought about having the bots bring the medical supplies to him, but he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. The medical lab had been offline, and he wasn’t sure if Shindo had tampered with more than the security protocols.
Maybe she had damaged the bandages or the medicine. He wanted to see for himself.
And he had a hope—a tiny hope—that Nafti wasn’t dead, just unconscious. Or maybe even imprisoned, the way that Yu had imprisoned Shindo. Maybe she had somehow rigged up the cameras so that the image Yu saw of Nafti’s body was a false image.
Yu had left her on the bridge, imprisoned in the zero-g chair. He’d also put a security bubble around her, so that she couldn’t wake up and start talking to the ship. No matter what she had rigged—if she had rigged anything—she wouldn’t be able to access it from inside that bubble.
He was so light-headed by the time he reached the medical lab that he thought he was going to pass out. The lab’s door stood open, and he could see Nafti, sprawled on the diagnostic table, just like he had been in the image.
Nafti’s eyes were closed, but his skin was an unhealthy shade of whitish blue. The diagnostics were running on the screen behind the table, and all of them read flat.
Nafti was dead.
Still, Yu touched his hand ever so lightly. The skin was cooler than it should have been. Nafti had been dead for some time.
Yu stood over Nafti for a long moment. The man looked lonely in death. Lonely and terrified, even though the dead human face never held an expression.
Yu clenched a fist. Damn Shindo. Killing Nafti like that. Cold-bloodedly. No wonder she had been able to kill the Gyonnese larvae, if humans meant so little to her.
He touched Nafti’s hand one final time. “Sorry,” Yu whispered.
And he was. As irritating as Nafti could be, Yu didn’t mean to get him killed.
Black spots appeared in front of Yu’s vision. He was going to pass out soon if he didn’t do something.
He scanned for a chair, and saw one not far from the diagnostic table.
The rest of the lab looked ready for use. He’d been expecting a war zone. Instead, he saw medications lined up on a nearby table, laser scalpels and bandages sticking out of drawers, and a drug list cycling on a screen nearby.
“I need assistance,” Yu said as he slumped into the chairs.
A medical avatar appeared. It had the form of a woman. The avatar was carefully formed so that she wasn’t too tall or too thin. She had light tan skin and eyes that were rounded with a touch of angle at the edges. Her hair was a neutral brown, her eyes also brown, and her features spaced in that precise way that computer programmers thought average. The avatar wore a white smock over her brown slacks, and fake compassion filled her fake eyes.