A Warrior on a Harsh World: Part 3
Where Kandi enters the hospital
A Warrior on a Harsh World is a story resurrected from our archives. It’s a prequel to The Lyra Cycle, telling the tale of how Kandi — Kandira Sakherani, dutiful daughter, promising soldier — ended up joining the ragtag crew of the Lyra. If you’re just joining us, hop back to part 1.
The sun had set, and the drone of fire bugs had settled for the night. Instead, the whoop-whoop of a peaked owl followed Kandi as she ran across the lawns towards the Lake of Sighs. As she approached the bridge that crossed to the barracks, a breeze rustled the reeds, echoing the name. Pilhadi had told her that wasn’t the source of the moniker, that it came from an old, obscure legend, but she’d just smiled when Kandi asked her for more.
She slowed as she walked across the bridge. Coming to a stop, she leaned on the rail and gazed out over the water. The far end of the lake cascaded down a series of rocks, before tumbling over the ridge at the edge of the Mount. It ended in a narrow stream of water somewhere far below, near the Noumi sicola where she’d earned her recent commendation, pacifying the riots. Beyond the cusp of the ridge sat the ever-expanding capital — the crescent-shaped, grey-black smudge of Noumi circled by the brightness of the so-called new city. Overhead few stars were visible, but the running lights of transports crisscrossed the inky blue sky. A rumble drew her attention to the right, where the main spaceport cast a dome of orange even this late at night. Eventually, the port disappeared around the curve of the mount — she remembered in her own childhood being able to see the whole thing. As she watched, a ship took off, heading up quickly, possibly on its way to the lunar mines or one of the colonies on the other semi-habitable planet. Or the Dominion jump gate port at the edge of the solar system. Silence blanketed the bridge again, except for the ripple of water and the hum of insects. Something rustled in the reeds, and soon a frog started calling for its mate.
Out there, beyond the dark crescent of the sicola, was Citizens’ Hospital 1, where her brother was being kept “under observation”. Waiting to be killed.
She rubbed her hands over her face. “What do I do?” A croak sounded to her left, followed by a splash. “That’s not helpful.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Even though she recognized the voice, force of habit made her spin around and drop down slightly.
A figure emerged out from behind the copse of trees by the path.
Kandi bowed sharply. “Surprefect Makterani.”
The bridge creaked as the woman stepped over to join her. “Really? I thought you called me Pilhadi under the cover of night.” Pilhadi’s calloused fingers trailed over Kandi’s cheekbone, before moving to tuck a wayward curl behind her ear. “Who were you talking to?”
Kandi laughed. “A frog.” She sighed and leaned heavily on the metal, still warm from the day’s heat. “The universe.” She glanced at Pilhadi, who peered at her with an arched eyebrow.
“I might give you better advice than frog.” Her smile turned to a frown, concern written on her face. Kandi looked back at the water. “Though I can’t promise.” Her hand lifted to Kandi’s chin this time. With gentle but insistent pressure, she coaxed Kandi to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
Kandi inhaled at the weight of Pilhadi’s hand as it dropped to her shoulder then ran down her arm. A moth fluttered in her stomach as she peered at the woman. She shifted and quirked an eyebrow. “You’re being awfully familiar with your subordinate.”
Pilhadi’s lips twitched. “I can stop being familiar any time you want.” She stepped back and stood at attention. Kandi swatted her arm, and Pilhadi relaxed. “But from what I recall, you’re the one who seduced me.”
“I wouldn’t call it seduction.”
Pilhadi’s eyebrows raised. “Really? What do you call it when someone waits in your bed? Naked?” She shifted closer again. “But stop changing the subject — what’s wrong?”
A touch of dizziness passed through Kandi as she thought about the day. “What’s wrong?” A harsh laugh escaped. “I started the morning receiving a commendation from the Matriarch herself. A promotion to Sarissan, with a proper stave of my own. My brother came home.” She smiled, remembering the moment he’d appeared in the door of the Sisters’ ship. “He’s seriously ill.” Her forehead dropped to rest on the arms crossed on the railing. “So unhinged people think he’s dangerous.”
“He’s in the hospital.” Pilhadi’s hand stroked her back. “He’ll be taken care of.”
A lump formed in Kandi’s throat — the words were so close to those of Beya Lialanen: deal with him. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Pilhadi that part. Instead, she wiped her eyes on her arms.
“There’s nothing you can do right now. You should go visit him tomorrow. I’ll arrange it. Give you leave.” Pilhadi’s hand moved up Kandi’s back to rest on her neck, her fingers twining in her hair, turning her head and tugging it up. “But tonight, you should come back to my rooms.”
“You’d help me with my brother?” Kandi focused on the flecks of light reflected in Pilhadi’s eyes. Energy coursed through her veins, but she forced herself not to get distracted, which was difficult with Pilhadi looking at her like she was.
“Yes, tomorrow.” Pilhadi stepped into her space and pressed against her. “Tonight I can be a distraction.”
“And you accuse me of not being serious.”
Pilhadi’s free hand snaked around Kandi’s waist. Out of habit, Kandi leaned in, and Pilhadi’s lips pressed hard against hers.
The LEV tram stopped. Across the tracks sat Citizens’ Hospital 1, its straight lines and flat surfaces saying serious things happened here. She patted the pass Pilhadi had provided, clipped to her collar, just to make sure it was still there. Kandi had never actually been inside this hospital, even though it was the largest in the city and one of the best in the world. She always got treated at the House Hospital — the best in the world. Except for the illicit trip to the Sisters. She spared a brief thought for how her mother had explained that to her house — her daughter had sepsis the House Hospital couldn’t treat, then she didn’t. A miracle.
But the sight of a familiar blue uniform when she stepped out of the pdo onto the platform drove that thought from her head. Her mother’s personal guard, led by Riga Sakhera, milled outside the hospital. Kandi ducked behind a group of doctors, judging from their uniforms, and tried to use them for cover while she watched her mother’s people. They appeared to be scanning the surroundings, while Riga spoke into her wrist.
No doubt getting orders from my mother. At least she could take care of Bash herself. The doctors reached the main doors to the hospital. Kandi lost her cover, but the grey columns supporting the overhang above the sliding doors hid her from view. Glancing back, she saw the group fan out. Some turned towards the train station. But others, including Riga, headed her way.
Kandi hustled into the hospital, only to be stopped as the security scanner picked up on her knives. She flushed, chastising herself for forgetting. Pilhadi had commented more than once about her affinity for the low-tech weapons, saying a stave was the only weapon a warrior needed. The security bot rolled over, a drawer in its belly popping out, and started scanning her. She tugged at her belt, wanting to get past the bot as quickly as possible. Her heart sunk as she realized handing over her belt meant surrendering her Sarissan’s dagger as well.
But the bot stopped and rolled back, its drawer tucking back into its belly. “Clear. Proceed.”
“Wha…” Kandi’s hand went to her neck, grazing the pass on her collar, and smiled. She didn’t wait for the bot to change its mind, instead tightening her belt as she ran. Pilhadi had told her where her brother was being kept, and Kandi had memorized the route on the train ride from the foot of the Mount. She took the wide steps up to the mezzanine two at a time, then got into a pod leading to the left tower.
“Floor 8, Wing B,” she said before the artificial voice had a chance to ask. A twitter filled her stomach at the rapid uplift. There weren’t many lifts on the ancient House grounds. In seconds, a ding sounded, and the door slid away. She stepped out into a whiteness so stark it made her blink. Doctors and medics, even the orderlies, all wore white tunics so pristine they almost blended with the white floors and walls.
The blinding lack of colour hurt her eyes. She’d trained as a medic, had even taken a turn in the House Hospital. But nothing in the army was white. The tunics had been a deep shade of carmine red.
“You’re not allowed to be here.” A woman with a strong jaw and heavy eyebrows stepped out of a room across from the lift.
“I think you’ll find I am.” Kandi touched the pass on her collar, hoping she was right. The woman’s eyes widened as she glanced at it, seeing something that made her pause. “I’m here to see Basherin Sakherajen.”
The woman’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as she continued to stare at the badge. Finally, her eyes returned to Kandi’s face, narrowing. Her hand slid out to the left. “This way.”
Kandi debated following her or hitting her on the head with the next heavy thing she saw. But there was nothing in the corridor, except an orderly pushing an overflowing laundry cart, and they arrived at a glass wall before she found anything heavy.
In the room beyond, her brother lay on the bed set in the middle, his arms tied down at his sides, and his eyes staring at the ceiling. The doctor remained at her side.
“I’d like some privacy with the…patient.” Kandi stopped herself from saying ‘prisoner’, though she knew he wasn’t being restrained for his own safety. He was so frail she doubted he could hurt himself if he wanted to.
“I can’t allow—”
“I’d like to question him alone.” Kandi’s hands came to her hips, and the woman glanced at them. Whether it was her insistence or the weapons still strapped to her thighs, the woman retreated the way they’d come after gracing Kandi with a squint and pursed lips.
As the woman walked away, Kandi turned back to the glass wall and realized she didn’t know if Pilhadi’s pass would open the sliding door. Glancing back down the corridor, the woman had disappeared. The orderly peered at her over his cart, and she supposed he had a pass she could force him to use if needed.
She tapped the pass over the entry pad and held her breath. After a few seconds, the door opened with a whoosh, and she stepped into the room. A chair sat to her left; she pulled it closer and tucked it into the entry: just because the pass let her in, didn’t mean it would let her out.
That done, she stepped closer to the bed. Bash jerked out of his stupor, snarling like an animal, and tugged at the restraints holding his limbs down. Then his head rolled towards her. His eyes focused, and his thrashing stilled.
“Kandi.” A quavering smile came to his lips. He’d been the one who gave her the nickname — when he was little, he had trouble with Rs — so Kandira became Kandi and he became Bash. “I thought you were another —” He jerked his chin towards the door.
“Bash, you look like hell.” It wasn’t a sisterly tease. Purple circles under his eyes made it appear as if someone had punched him. His skin, usually a deeper tan that hers, had a ghastly green cast to it. His hair was straw, and his limbs skeletal. She wondered if it was just something physical after all, something easily treatable by the nanos they’d no doubt injected him with.
“I feel worse.” His voice was hoarse, like he was coming off a chest infection. He tugged at the restraints again. “What did they give me?”
“Just something to calm you down.” Reaching out, she stepped closer to take his hand, though it was awkward with the manacles at his wrists.
Looking at the ceiling, he huffed, which set off a coughing fit. “Something to make me forget.” He focused his gaze on her again. “Get me out of here. Please. I’ll die in here.”
Kandi didn’t doubt his statement, even without what their mother had in store for him. He’d always been happier outdoors, unless he was studying. He was happiest when he was studying outdoors.
“I’ll try.” She didn’t want to promise her brother something she had no idea how to deliver on. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”
His restraints rattled when he grasped her hand with more strength in his fingers that she expected he had. “I’ll be dead tomorrow.”
“No, I —” A sound outside of the room drew her attention. A voice she recognized ricocheted along the hall.
“Linnea Makter.” The name slipped from her brother’s chapped lips like sand over paper: the Matriarch’s Own. His eyes widened, and he yanked at his restraints.
“Shh. Shush.” Kandi realized in that second that her brother was right — if she left him here, he’d be dead well before tomorrow. “I need more time.” The words escaped her mouth, even though she spoke to herself. Bash stared at her with pleading eyes as he pulled at the shackles again. Kandi put her hand on his chest, her lips opening to speak. But there was nothing to say.
Her mouth snapped closed, and she tugged at the fastenings on the nearest restraint. Her fingers felt thick and arthritic. Once she had the first one undone, her brother’s hand flew to the next. His long fingers were more nimble, so she went to peek out the door. The hall was empty, but she still heard the Own’s voice echo along the tiled floor and plex walls.
“Ah!”
She glanced back at the cry. Bash stood behind her, his hand pressing the crook of his elbow as blood tracked down his arm. He’d pulled out the drip and taken off the sensors. Somewhere a beeping started.
“Psst.”
Kandi glanced the other way, away from the medic’s station. The orderly she’d seen earlier waved at her from a doorway.
“This way.” He hissed the words and flapped his hand at her. “This way’s out.”
Her eyes narrowed as she peered at the stranger. He might lead them both to their deaths. The Own’s voice become louder. Kandi’s jaw clenched, and she pressed her lips tight. Then she shoved her brother out the door and towards the orderly, before following in his footsteps.
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