23. Tan

23

Tan

It takes a full cycle for the poison to clear my system. I wake with Skylar at my bedside. She looks exhausted, but when her eyes meet mine, her smile is brighter and more welcome than the stars. "You're awake. They said you would be, but…" She laughs and takes my hands. "Tan, you could have died!"

"We have anti-venoms," I tell her. I feel like an angry bag of rocks bludgeoned me for twenty-minutes, but my fingers and toes are working. It was only a short exposure to the poison, thank the Deities. "They are effective."

"The healers said you would be okay, but I don't want you doing that again. "

"If I must stand between you and danger, I will. And you can be angry at me after."

Skylar snorts, but a tear slides down her cheek. She wipes it away.

"I will be well soon," I say, reaching for her hands. "Do not cry."

She threads her fingers through mine. "And so you are alive. The Ehan Janu say a bokdazi's tears have healing properties."

"I am healing well enough," I say, smiling. "Have you eaten?"

Skylar wrinkles her nose. "Hospital food is hospital food, no matter where you are in the universe."

We laugh and talk of foolish things until the healer returns with a tray of the promised bland but healthful fare of healers everywhere.

It takes another day for me to be well enough to return to my quarters and my duties. In some ways, being ill was preferable. We know there is at least one more rogue Gice Kohath on the ship. Ano has set up checkpoints and officers and crew are subject to random testing as Masg search through the ship .

Worse, the ship's systems are acting up, and it's getting worse. And one of the Janu navigators has taken ill. There are six full navigators, total, and three apprentices, so the ship's functioning is not compromised.

Still, it is troubling.

We have a team of Aegiseers working on the ship's systems. Janu should not be affected by them, but they are telepathically connected to the ship, so it's not impossible.

"Do you really think the ship's malfunctions are related to Janu's sickness?" Skylar asks, echoing my fears.

"I do not know." And I hate that. "As for the ship, we have run diagnostics but have found no clear cause yet. I'm going to talk to the other Janu, to see if they've sensed anything unusual. Their abilities give them insights we lack."

One sick Janu is worrying enough. If more fall ill, if we can't navigate… No, I can't think like that. There has to be a way to fix it. I will find it. I have to.

I stare in disbelief as Ano delivers the grave news. "The Janu Sal'hyakin is dead?" I ask, needing to hear him confirm it again.

Ano nods. "Yes. It started as a minor illness, but it suddenly worsened. The healers did everything they could, but her body just seemed to shut down. She now walks forever in the fields of Shekan-Ahru."

I clench my fists, anger and guilt churning inside me. As Raiva, the lives of every crew member are my responsibility. Losing even one feels like a personal failure. And a Janu at that. All of them are essential, but beyond that, we consider them the soul of our vessels—cherished. They not only navigate but they interface with all areas of our ship. To have one die in such a way is unthinkable, but here we are.

"And you say another has fallen ill?" I ask.

"Yes, her apprentice. She started showing the same symptoms this morning—fatigue, headaches, fever. The healers have her quarantined."

I curse under my breath. "Have the healers determined the cause?"

"No. And it is worse than that," Ano says hesitantly. " The remaining Janu—their interface with the ship's systems appears to be deteriorating. They say the ship feels cloudy to them. Unclear."

"What of the missing Gice Kohath?" These two things must have a connection.

"No sign. Are you sure there were two?"

"Skylar saw two."

Ano sighs. "If whatever is going on with the ship is affecting the Janu, it might be best to anchor for a full system by system reset," Ano suggests. "It will leave us vulnerable to attack, but we cannot afford to lose our Janu."

After a moment's consideration, I must agree with my Second's assessment.

"Do it," I order.

I would rather control our shutdown than wait until this glitch or virus finishes its course.