The Lexal Affair by DM Arnold (most read books TXT) 📕

“Recreational drugs are specifically formulated to be non-addictive.”

“I have a girl here exhibiting those very symptoms.”

“Bring her in.”

“I can't -- we're on Earth. We're scheduled to meet a packet tonight, but she claims she'll die before then.”

“Do you have any euphoriant?”

“Some class-A injectible.”

“Give her some, then.”

“She's a minor, Aahhn.”

“If a dose of that stuff will stabilize her until she can get transport, then administer it. If she's already addicted, one more dose won't hurt her.”

“It goes against my instinct, Aahhn -- but I'll do it.” The vidphone session went dark.

Nyk took the cartridge from the box and loaded it into the injector. He climbed the stairs and entered Dyppa's room. “I have some euphoriant. It goes against my better judgment, but my doctor friend says you can have it.”

Dyppa sat up, her lips white and her face pale and damp with perspiration. He placed the injector into her trembling hand.

He watched as she turned her left hand palm-up, clenched it into a fist and punctured a prominent vein inside her elbow. “Wait, Dyppa -- it's not supposed to be used that way!” He lunged toward her, then heard the injector discharge with a snap.

Dyppa lay on her back, breathing heavily. Her hands relaxed and he saw the agony drain from her face. Her eyes rolled upward, she arched her back and drew in a deep breath. “Ohh.... ahh...” she let out gasping moans, then caught her breath. Her eyelids drooped and her lips formed a faint smile. “Ohh... floating... floating...”

Nyk watched her as her eyelids drifted shut. Dyppa's hand went limp, fell off the side of the bed, and the injector dropped to the floor. He stooped to pick it up. Her head rolled to the side, her lips parted and she began to snore.

He straightened her arms and legs, covered her with a blanket and kissed her forehead. “You poor, poor girl -- what did Zander do to you?”

Back in the living room, Nyk ejected the spent cartridge and tossed the injector into the carton. He examined the cartridge, then threw it into the box. “Zander, what did you do to her?”

Nyk poured some cereal into a bowl and tasted it. It was stale, but edible. Dyppa walked into the kitchen. “How are you feeling, now?”

“Fine.” She sat at the kitchen table. He looked into her face -- her color was good and her eyes clear and alert. “Perfectly normal.”

“We make transit tonight at midnight. Are you up to it?”

“Sure -- why wouldn't I be?”

Nyk eyed her. “How long can you go between doses of that stuff?”

“A couple of days or so.”

“And, you really believe you'll die without it?”

“Zander withheld it for three days once. I couldn't stand -- I couldn't sit -- I couldn't eat, and the pain was excruciating.”

“Dyppa -- it doesn't make sense. Those drugs aren't addictive. It all must be in your head.”

“Were the shakes all in my head? The sweats, the pain -- all in my head?” Tears ran down her face.

“Your head controls your body.”

“Believe me, Nykkyo -- I don't like using it. I did once, but not since Zander...”

“Zander!”

“I'd give anything to be free of it -- you don't believe me, do you?”

“I think I do. Well, I hope once they get you to Floran -- or, to wherever -- they can help you. Come with me -- you can help me get the shuttlecar ready.”

Dyppa followed him to the detached garage. Nyk unlocked the door and slid it open. He removed and folded a canvas cover.

“We travel to Floran in this?” she asked.

“No -- we travel to the relay station in this. We meet the packet there.”

“I'm not riding in that.”

“You don't have a choice, Dyppa.” He looked at the sky. “It's almost late enough. Let's close up the house and get going.”

Nyk backed the shuttle from the garage and stepped out to close and lock the door. He went into the house to shut off lights and lock up. Dyppa accompanied him to the shuttle and he helped her into the passenger seat. He set the carton onto her lap.

“Make sure you fasten your restraint,” he advised. Then, he buckled his belts, grasped the unistick and backed the craft onto the street.

It was one in the morning and the highway was deserted. A light fog had settled around the small city on the outskirts of Milwaukee. He piloted the craft down the highways to a quiet country road and pulled onto the shoulder.

Nyk ran the prelaunch sequence and tested the doorseals. The safety catches engaged with a snap. He programmed an orbital insertion maneuver into the nav computer. The main panel lit up in a blue “go” condition.

“Here we go,” he said and pressed the launch activator. The shuttle nosed upward and shot into the sky. Dyppa placed her hand over her eyes.

Shortly they were in orbit. Nyk set the subjump parameters and awaited navigation results. The windscreen and windows darkened and the panel glowed white.

“Hold on, we're going to jump,” he said and pressed the warp trigger. The coil discharged with a bang, jolting the vessel. Dyppa shrieked.

Transparency returned to the windows. Nyk tuned the autopilot to the relay station transponders. Soon the house-sized structure loomed in the forward view panel. The space door swung open and Nyk piloted the shuttle into a landing bay. The spacedoor closed and he initiated bay pressurization. The safety catches released.

He helped Dyppa from the car. She was white and trembling. “Sit -- put your head between your knees. Are you all right?”

“I -- I've never flown in such a small craft.”

“How did Zander get you to Earth?”

“I can't remember...”

“You relax while I prepare the decontamination chamber.”

Dyppa had changed into a Floran tunic and lifxarpa. Nyk paced around the relay station main workroom. “The packet should be along any moment.”

“I'm scared, Nykkyo. What's to become of me?”

“You'll get some treatment and then go to your mom. If you need any help -- if you need someone to ... to testify as to what Zander did to you...” Nyk grabbed a polycard and wrote on it. “Here is my locator code -- and Seymor's.” She slipped it into the fold of her lifxarpa.

A dull thud reverberated through the station. From the feel, Nyk surmised it was a smaller vessel than a passenger packet. He looked out the viewport and saw a deep-space shuttle at the far end of the docking tunnel. The craft bore the insignia of Internal Affairs. The tunnel door opened and a pair of officers emerged. Both were armed with stunners.

“Dyppa Hawryt?” one said.

“That's me.”

The officer approached her with a handheld vidisplay. “Wristscan, please.” The device chirped as she pressed her wrist against the scanpad. The officer examined the display and turned it toward her. “I have a warrant for your arrest for violating the terms of your probation. Please stand still...” He fastened a white band around her neck.

“What's that?” Nyk asked.

“A stun collar,” the officer replied.

“That's unnecessary -- she'll cooperate. Won't you, Dyppa -- you'll cooperate, won't you?”

She nodded.

“It's standard procedure,” the officer said.

“But, it's unnecessary...”

“It's all right,” Dyppa said.

Nyk approached and embraced her. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

“You have my locator code. Call me and let me know how you're doing.”

“I'll do that, too.” Nyk kissed her forehead. She stroked the back of his head and kissed his lips. “See you in a year and a half.”

“Come on,” one officer said. Dyppa gave Nyk a little wave and headed for the docking tunnel.

The other officer drew his stunner and prodded her with its tip. “Move along...”

“Wait,” Nyk called. The officer with the stunner stopped and turned toward him. “You'll want this, too,” Nyk said and handed over the carton.

The docking tunnel door closed. “Good luck, Dyppa,” Nyk said and stood by the viewport to watch the shuttle draw away and vanish into a warp jump.

Nyk checked the vidisplay for the time. It would be a while before the outbound packet was due to arrive. He walked to the control room, sat and leaned back with his fingers locked behind his head. Vidisplays flashed status reports on relayed tachnet and gravnet communications traffic.

Another thud jolted the station. Nyk glanced out the viewport and saw the docked packet, resembling a wingless Earth wide-bodied jetliner.

The tunnel door opened and a woman emerged. Nyk figured she was at least fifty Floran years old -- about forty Earth years. She was in a Floran tunic and bright red lifxarpa. She had long, dark blond hair that was turning grey. He recalled the photo attached to her personal file and realized it was at least a decade out of date.

Nyk made eye contact -- hers were a beautiful shade of turquoise, an unusual color for a Floran.

“Hello,” she greeted him in English. “I'm Q. You must be NK.”

“We can dispense with the coded monikers,” Nyk replied. “I think someone in the Agency has been reading too many Earth spy novels. Shall we go with our Earth names?”

“Oh, God, no. You can't imagine how disappointed I was to learn I had to go through life known as Nellie Hogarth.”

“Then I'll call you Grynnya and you can call me Nykkyo -- or, Nyk.”

“Fair enough, Nyk.”

She headed toward the wardroom to change into Earth clothing. Nyk paced around the workroom. He looked at his watch.

Grynnya emerged from the wardroom naked and holding a green sundress in one hand and a denim skirt and knit top in the other. “What's the weather like down there, kiddo? Which outfit would you go with?” Nyk gaped at her. She held her arms out. “Not bad for an old babe, huh?”

Nyk averted his gaze and could feel his face reddening. “It's not too warm,” he stammered. “I'd go with the skirt and top.”

Grynnya returned to the wardroom. “I think we've lost the darkness,” Nyk called to her.

“That's the trouble with making transits this time of year -- not enough night.” She emerged tucking her top into the waistband of her skirt.

“Are you hungry?” Nyk asked. “I can check and see what meal packages we have on hand.”

“Oh, no you don't. I've eaten nothing but homeworld shit for two weeks.” She opened her personal effects locker and removed a stasis canister. Inside was a frozen lasagna. She withdrew a gallon jug of red wine, opened the lasagna and slipped it into a warmer. “There's enough here for two. Care to join me?”

Nyk sat across from her in the station's galley. She poured herself a tall tumblerful of wine. “Some for you?”

“No, thanks. I prefer not to consume alcohol. I'm concerned about it's deleterious effects.”

“In moderation, wine's no worse for you than any of the homeworld recreational chemicals.”

Nyk took a bite of lasagna. “So, you're the new assistant chief,” she said.

“Yes, and I'm still feeling my way around.”

“I heard about you and Baxa's wife -- and about Baxa himself. I'll tell you, Nyk -- I wasn't really too surprised to learn of Zander's involvement. He always appeared just a bit too smug. What did surprise me was to learn of Andra's exoneration. I would've expected an ax'amfin witch to be up to her armpits in that sort of intrigue.”

“I would've said the same thing,” Nyk replied. “Once I had the opportunity to know Andra, I realized she's quite a sweet girl.”

“I've never even been close to an ax'amfin. Are they really as beautiful as they say?”

“I think in Andra's case, her genetically-engineered good looks worked to her detriment.”

“That's a comfort to those of us without genetically-engineered good looks.”

“Don't underrate yourself, Grynnya -- you're quite an attractive woman.”

She smiled. “Thanks. You should've seen me when I was your age -- I was a knockout.”

Nyk took another bite of lasagna. “Grynnya, I know you're from the Quinn line. I'm a Kyhana -- in name, at least. That's two old-line names who've ended up as Earthbound Agents.”

“Do you know Dalrina Davis?” Grynnya asked.

“No -- I don't recognize that name.”

“She's Agent-in chief for European Operations.”

“Wow -- three descendants of the original Floran crew who're career Agents. I wonder if it's coincidence, or if something