“What are you doing here?”

Percy looked up from the console at the sound of Ithara’s voice. The medical lab was cooler than the rest of the clinic, and Percy was grateful for that. Though the dust was still causing him trouble. She stood in the open doorway, looking puzzled. Rionel, his ever-present shadow, watched from the corner of the room.

“I’m just studying your ancestors’ machines,” Percy replied, after a particularly loud sneeze. “Trying to figure out what they do.”

Ithara’s eyebrows shot up. “Can you read our language?”

“No,” Rionel said with a derisive snort. “He’s trying to teach himself.”

Taking a step deeper into the room, Ithara asked, “Then even if you can determine what these machines do, how do you plan to use them if you can’t decipher the language?”

“He won’t be using them,” Rionel cut in. “The High Keeper has forbidden him from experimenting on our people.”

Percy’s shoulders slumped, and he let out a long sigh. “I’m not looking to experiment on your people. I just want to study the Wasting and see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“The Wasting was sent by the Vezda,” Rionel shot back. “A test from the gods. If we prove ourselves worthy, they will return and cure us.”

“And if you can’t prove yourselves worthy?” Percy asked.

“Then we will die,” Rionel replied, his chest puffed up.

No one spoke as they absorbed Rionel’s words. Percy chanced a look at Ithara, who didn’t look like she was particularly taken with Rionel’s argument. She met Percy’s gaze briefly but looked away just as quickly. 

“What if the Vezda aren’t gods?” Percy asked carefully.

A fire ignited in Rionel’s eyes. He clenched his fists as he stepped forward, causing Percy to step back. In a cold, low tone, Rionel growled, “Blasphemy.”

“Rionel,” Ithara said, placing herself between Percy and Rionel. “Wait outside. I’d like a private word with Percy.”

Tearing his eyes away from Percy, Rionel looked at Ithara. “My orders are to watch him at all times.”

“I give you my word that I will not allow him to defy the orders of the High Keeper,” Ithara assured him.

Percy watched Rionel’s face. He could see the conflict taking place inside the security guard, reflected on his face. Eventually, he relented and hobbled towards the door. Once it was closed, Ithara turned to him.

“That was foolish,” Ithara grumbled. “Our faith in the Vezda is all that sustains my people.”

“Do you believe they’ll return and cure the Wasting?”

The silence that followed Percy’s question spoke volumes. Ithara folded her arms and avoided Percy’s gaze.

“I,” Ithara paused. With a frown, she continued, “I don’t know.”

Taking a deep breath, Percy let it out noisily. “I’m not looking to upset your beliefs, or those of your people. I just want to help.”

“Do you truly believe you can cure the Wasting?” Ithara asked quietly.

That was a dangerous question. “I can’t promise it, but I’d like to try. If only Kaedric would allow me to perform some tests.”

“What if I offered to help?”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “How?”

“I’ll help you decipher the text on these machines to determine their purpose,” Ithara told him. “And offer myself as your test subject.”

As much as he wanted to accept her offer, he couldn’t allow her to risk Kaedric’s wrath. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. If Kaedric found out I’d experiment on you.”

“He need not know,” Ithara said quickly.

Hayes’ orders echoed in Percy’s mind. He’d been clear that Percy was to abide by Kaedric’s edict. Disobeying the orders of his superior could lead to disciplinary proceedings, maybe even a court-martial. It could end his Starfleet career.

“I doubt Rionel is going to be satisfied just standing outside for the next few hours while we work in here.” Percy knew his excuses were flimsy and half-hearted.

Ithara nodded in agreement. “Leave Rionel to me. When the opportunity presents itself, you can extract a blood sample, and we can test it.”

Percy hesitated. This should be the part where he says no and walks away. But he couldn’t resist the chance to discover what’s killing these people. The possibility that he could cure it was too great. Percy took a steadying breath.

“Okay,” Percy said with a solemn nod. “Let’s do it.”

When Rionel returned several minutes later, Percy and Ithara were already working together to figure out one of the machines. They would work methodically through each menu and each sub-menu, with Ithara translating the text and Percy deciphering the purpose.

“What are you doing?”

Ithara didn’t look up from the console. “We’re studying this machine to determine its function.”

“The High Keeper’s orders-”

“Were that Percy could not experiment on us,” Ithara cut across him. “He is not performing any experiments. We are studying these machines, and I hope that Percy will be able to teach me how to use them.”

With narrow eyes, Rionel asked, “Why? So you can cure the Wasting?”

“No.” Ithara sighed and shook her head. “As you say, the Wasting is the will of the Vezda. Only they can cure us of this sickness.”

“Then why?”

“Because this is a chance to regain some of the knowledge that has been lost to our history,” Ithara told him.

Rionel looked unconvinced. “The Vezda will provide us with the knowledge we require.”

“Perhaps,” Ithara sighed. “But I don’t see any harm in being prepared.”

Glowering at Percy, Rionel silently moved to a corner of the room where he would have a good view of Ithara and Percy. His movements seemed even slower and more deliberate than before. No doubt long hours on his feet weren’t helping his condition. If he thought Rionel would accept, Percy would have offered him a seat.

Percy and Ithara worked methodically through each menu on each of the machines, identifying their use. The room was filled with the sound of regular high-pitched beeps from the devices as they manipulated the controls. All the while, Rionel stood silent watch over them, like a life-sized gargoyle on one of Earth’s ancient buildings.

The sound of Rionel’s stomach gurgling grabbed everyone’s attention. “You’ve been working for two hours. Time for a break.”

Though he was hungrier than Percy would admit, he didn’t want to stop now. Ithara was of a similar mind. “We’ll continue working. You can take a break.”

Rionel snorted. “Watch the outsider.”

Percy tried to appear more interested in the console than in where Rionel was. Once the door closed behind him, Ithara turned to Percy.

“You must take a blood sample,” Ithara said, her voice barely above a whisper. “He won’t be gone long.”

Reaching for the device they’d identify as a kind of hypospray, Percy pressed it against the flesh of Ithara’s forearm where she’d rolled the sleeve of her uniform back. Ithara winced as the device drew her blood.

They fed the sample into the analyser, and Percy started working through the device’s menu. He selected the correct settings to provide a thorough analysis of Ithara’s blood sample. As he was about to start the analysis, Ithara gently grabbed his wrist.

“May I?”

Percy looked at Ithara. A mix of hope and trepidation played on her features. He could see this meant a lot to her. Percy pulled his hand away and stepped to one side.

“Of course.”

With a shaky hand, Ithara reached out and pressed the control. The machine made no outward sign that it was working. Percy let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. The text on the console’s display changed, which Ithara translated as ‘analysis in progress’.

They needed to maintain their ruse. Percy and Ithara returned to studying the machines, learning everything they could. 

When Rionel returned ten minutes later, he looked brighter, and he had company.

“Committee member Saelith,” Ithara breathed. “This is an unexpected privilege. Are you in need of medical intervention?”

The woman Ithara identified as Saelith shook her head with a tight-lipped smile. “Not at all. Rionel tells me you’re working with the outsider to learn the secrets of the ancestors’ machines. I wished to see your work for myself.”

Ithara nodded. “Yes. Healer Percy has been extremely helpful.”

“I’m pleased to hear it.” Though the words seemed warm, the tone that delivered them was cold, and Percy swore the temperature in the room fell a few degrees. 

As Saelith moved around the room, studying the devices, Percy could feel beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. She would see the analysis, she would know what they were doing. 

“If you’d like, we can walk you through what these devices do.” The words tumbled quickly from Percy’s lips. He motioned to a device on the opposite side of the room. “This is-”

Saelith waved a dismissive hand. “That won’t be necessary.”

A shrill beep echoed around the room, drawing everyone’s attention. Percy closed his eyes momentarily. They’d been rumbled.

“What’s this?” Saelith’s tone indicated she knew they were up to something. She approached the console and studied the display. “You’ve been running an analysis on a blood sample.”

Percy nodded. “That’s right.”

“Whose?” Saelith asked sweetly.

Though his mouth was drier than Vulcan’s Forge, Percy managed to croak, “Mine.”

“Vitamin D deficiency,” Saelith read from the console.

I knew it, Percy thought triumphantly. His elation was short-lived as he remembered his situation.

“Is that serious?”

Maintaining eye contact with Saelith, Percy replied, “It can be if left untreated.”

“What would the symptoms look like?” Saelith approached him.

Percy swallowed. “Fatigue, bone pain, muscle weakness, skeletal deformities.”

“Now, those sound familiar,” Saelith mused aloud. “Show me your arms.”

One by one, Percy rolled his sleeves back to reveal his forearms. There wasn’t a mark on either of them.

“How can you have provided a blood sample?” Saelith asked, feigning confusion. “There are no marks on your arms.”

Percy Montague had many faults, but being dishonest was not one of them. It amazed him, therefore, just how easily the lies were falling from his lips. 

“Hyposprays don’t leave marks, unlike the needle syringes of old.”

Saelith nodded along. “How interesting.”

She wasn’t buying it, and Percy knew it. This was confirmed when Saelith looked to Ithara for the first time.

“Healer Ithara,” Saelith’s tone was stern. “Show me your arms.”

Ithara pulled her right sleeve back first. There were no marks. When she pulled back her left sleeve, a large fresh bruise could be seen on the underside of her forearm. The sight Percy had drawn blood. Apparently, the Kaelani hypospray wasn’t as advanced as those used by the Federation.

“I knew it,” Saelith sneered. She barked, “Rionel, these individuals are under arrest. Bring them. We will see what Alyra has to say about this outrage.”

A gasp escaped Percy’s lips as Rionel moved behind them, his weapon drawn. His heart raced as he felt the muzzle of the disruptor pistol pressed against his back.

“Move,” Rionel growled. 

The guard was close enough that Percy could feel Rionel’s breath on his skin. Glancing at Ithara, Percy was expecting her to look afraid. Instead, what he found in her eyes was a look of defiance. 

Straightening his back, Percy took a first step forward. He was certain that his life would soon be at an end. The only consolation was that he’d discovered what was killing the Kaelani, and might at least be able to tell them how to treat it before they executed him.

With his hands clasped tightly in front of him, Kaedric walked slowly through the familiar tunnel. His right hip was causing him much discomfort, but he had to use that pain, channel it towards achieving his objective. If he were successful, that pain would be but a memory.

“High Keeper.” The two men guarding the sacred tunnel stood taller.

Kaedric bowed his head. “I must pass.”

“You may only enter with the permission of the Committee.”

It was true that only a unanimous vote of the Committee would give someone permission to pass by the guards at the mouth of the tunnel that would lead to the central control matrix of the planet’s atmospheric processors. An ornate arch of gold and white signalled this tunnel as something special, as did the men guarding it. 

Kaedric could feel a gentle breeze coming from deep within the tunnel. It brushed his cheek and ruffled the hair on his head. Lanterns placed at regular intervals along the tunnel lit the way as it curved to the left.

“You are quite correct,” Kaedric admitted as he reached into a large pocket on the inside of his cloak. “Perhaps this will help.”

Instead of PADD, Kaedric pulled a weapon and fired it twice in quick succession. The first guard fell back against the stone wall and slowly slid down it, a horrible moan escaping his lips as the life left his body. The second guard crumpled to the ground. 

Their deaths were regrettable. Kaedric would carry them with him for the remainder of his days, but it was a necessary action if his plan was to succeed. The destruction of the outsider vessel would prove the Kaelani worthy of the Vezda’s return. With difficulty, Kaedric knelt beside the body of the first guard.

“Be at peace now,” Kaedric murmured as he closed the guard’s eyes. “Your sacrifice will be honoured with the return of the Vezda.”

He did the same thing with the second guard before pushing himself back to his feet. Foot traffic in this area was very low. No one had seen him. His eyes fell upon the monitoring device attached to the opposite wall. It was a dull grey orb that transmitted a visual image of the tunnel’s entrance to a central security centre. 

His crime would soon be found out, but by then it would be too late. The outsiders’ ship would be destroyed, the Kaelani would have proven themselves worthy, and the Vezda would absolve him of his sins.

Kaedric entered the long tunnel that would lead to the central control matrix. Their suffering would soon be at an end.