The Last Narkoy: Gathow: Book 2 by Elizabeth Price (find a book to read txt) 📕

“I’ll join you,” Sedom decided, hearing her own stomach rumble. They continued over to the cafeteria, finding the rest of their crew, including Cidele. She waved them over to their table.

“Replicators are online in thirty percent of the city. Order anything you want,” Cidele announced.

“Good to hear. Now, what the hell is going on with the sun?” Sedom asked as she grabbed a tray.

Cidele glanced to the cafeteria doors. “Dranium rebooted Gathow’s computer systems. There was a malfunction that had something to do with a computer virus your grandmother ordered to keep intruders from entering Gathow. I guess it’s taking longer for it to come online.”

Sedom ordered a large bowl of stew. To her amazement, a bowl of stew appeared on the replicator’s platform. “I’m impressed. I never knew what I was going to get before.”

“Good,” Cidele gleamed, almost bouncy. “I also took the liberties of replacing your furniture in your unit. I’m also in the process of redecorating several of the other units, just in case we have more visitors.”

Sedom nodded several times as she carried her tray over to the group. “Good, good. Keep it up. I’ll have Garric help you. The more units we have available, the more opportunities we’ll have to fill them,” she said as she sat.

Rosanheer sat across from Sedom, between Qilo and Zion. “Are you actively looking for more people to join the Tasgool?”

Everyone in the group turned to Rosanheer.

“Tasgool?” Zion questioned.

Rosanheer nodded as he ate. “That is what the Narkoy call their military, right?”

“You have to have one before it can be called by its proper name,” Sedom muttered as she picked at her stew. “I’m surprised you knew the name. The goal is to build an army, yes,” she said within a yawn. “Oh, ah, you know, gentlemen, I’ll catch up with you later.” She stood, grabbing her bowl of stew from her tray.

When Sedom returned to her housing, she was amused to find all of her furniture had been replaced, save for her bookshelves. In her living room now sat a long, ruby sofa with big, fluffy arms. Next to that, a patterned armchair with marking she recognized from her own grandmother’s office chair. There was a coffee table in front of the sofa along with a teapot and two tea cups.

Her body sunk into the sofa, her head falling back against the armrest. Her eyes closed. When they opened, a cup of hot, steaming tea sat on the coffee table. A soft, yellow blanket was lying over her body.

“You’re awake?” Garric asked from the doorway.

Sedom nodded as she yawned. “I can’t believe Cidele did all this while we were gone. This is amazing,” Sedom hummed.

“I provided her with the color scheme,” Garric mentioned. He set her stew on the table before her. “I reheated it for you. I figured you’d be starving.”

Sedom grabbed the bowl, gulping down the stew with mad intensity. “Thanks. I had to…” she wiped her mouth with her shoulder, “…heal Ratisha on the way back. It took a lot out of me. Have you heard any news from Evolanc?”

“Only that Noral needs to speak with you, once you’ve regained consciousness,” he jabbed. “You have to pass-out before you’ll ever sleep.”

Sedom shrugged. “When you’ve seen what I have…” she paused, setting her food back on the table. “Well, I guess you have,” she said, her mind drifting. She shook herself back to reality. “I better go see what Noral wants.”

“What about eating?” Garric questioned from the other room. When he turned to hear Sedom’s response, she was already out the door.

Sedom strolled inside the quiet infirmary. At first, she wondered if anyone was there. She happened to know Noral had been sleeping in his office on an old cot he found, so the odds of him being there were good.

“Anyone here?” Sedom called out.

“In here,” Noral’s voice called back, echoing down the long hall leading to the back of the infirmary.

Sedom rounded the corner to the back where they kept private rooms. She found Noral standing next to Ratisha's bed, chatting about medicine.

“There you are. I forgot how big this place is. How's the patient?” Sedom asked.

“Not. We’re discussing treatment options,” Noral mused.

“I should have a right to choose,” Ratisha called back.

“Sortec, stop bringing doctors into Gathow,” he joked back.

Sedom caressed Ratisha's upper arm. “Someone has to keep you on your toes,” she joked. “Besides, we need her expertise.”

Lines on Ratisha's forehead creased. “Expertise?”

Sedom glanced over at Noral who did not bother to look back at her. “Later. For now, we have to get you back on your feet.”

Ratisha grabbed Sedom's wrist, forcing her closer so she could look into her eyes. “How long have you had the symptoms?” she asked.

Sedom blinked several times, attempting to maintain her composure. She calmly forced Ratisha's hand away. “I’m fine. Noral and Evolanc have helped keep them under control, but…” Sedom trailed off, glancing to Noral to explain further.

“We believe that the Matrads have contracted a variation of the plague, which is being passed to the Crehail,” he explained.

Ratisha released Sedom's hand. “So rescuing me wasn't entirely an errand of mercy?” she surmised.

Tong-in-cheek Sedom shook her head. “I didn't know you were still alive until I heard your name mentioned in conjunction with the plague. If I had known…”

Ratisha raised her hand to silence Sedom. “It sounds like I have a job to do. It’s sad it takes millions dying to save my life.”

“The universe is a mystery,” Noral surmised. “Now, tell this woman, it's safer to live a fuller life in a hover chair than hoping for a miracle. The evasive surgery that she wants may leave her dead or paralyzed for the rest of her life.”

Sedom's face grew stern.