Under direction from the many ropelike arms of Pale, the nurses work tirelessly. The treatment that stabilizes Dunc's condition is also being applied to the less severe cases of exposure. Blood is drained and pumped through the machine, which pulls the alien chemical out with some arcane process. The blood is then returned to the body in a cycle that works in concert with the nanoprobes to scour their systems clean.

The first patient to gain release from the confines of the medical bay is one of the tourists. Lews Uld, originally here to gamble and shop with her still unconscious friends. She'll be leaving as soon as her friends wake up. They remain in their beds, still locked in healing sleep, along with the rest of the victims of Noorun's attack.

The recovering Lews is thin. Dangerously so, after her long bout with the toxin. Muscles unable to receive the nourishment they require to sustain themselves struggle now to carry her emaciated form from the communal sickroom. She staggers drunkenly as she laboriously makes her way to her temporary home.

Her case is not unique, and others in similar condition follow throughout the day. The healthy fullness of their skin is gone, instead hanging loosely from their fragile seeming frames. They shuffle out with the well wishes of the medical staff, looks of confusion on their gray faces.

A flock of younger Tserri follow them to their temporary residences, pestering them mercilessly. They ask endless questions about the attack and what the still recovering Selber were doing when the event happened. It isn't until Jetanda arrives with her escort that the pests disperse.

When she gets to the medical facility, she greets Zra warmly, and is politely distant with Pale. The nurses find fresh interest in their duties, paying extreme attention to the surfaces they clean. They polish surgical instruments well past the point where they shine, so diligent are they.

"Now that the formalities are complete," says the elder, "we can discuss the reason I'm here."

Zra smiles, his many teeth gleaming under the harsh artificial lighting and wrings his claws together. "We, we think they'll all recover," he states with little confidence. "Pale's new treatment has been remarkable successful."

"A full recovery?" Jetanda's voice is calm but carries an undercurrent of threat.

The healer wilts under her steady gaze, casting helpless glances at the conglomerate entity. Pale ignores the fur covered healer and continues inserting needle tipped tubes into the next patient. The nurses both rush out of the room, muttering awkward excuses. It must be their break time.

"Well, mostly," Zra starts uncertainly, "that is, we hope the patients will be able to regain healthy weight. There may be permanent mental damage, however. In the worst of the cases, anyway."

"How bad?" She glares up at the taller male yet seems to loom over him. He shrinks further into himself under her demanding gaze and his ears twitch spasmodically.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Th-the last one we released left with a stutter. The one before him was fine, if a little dizzy when she moved too fast."

"And how seriously were those two exposed?"

He half-heartedly slashes that comment from the air.

"Have any of the worse effected yet recovered, Zra?"

He sounds defeated when he answers her, tiredly stating, "No."

Jetanda's posture suddenly relaxes. "Alright, keep working. I don't blame you for what happened, I'm just not ready to find out what this stupid act of my son's will cost me. Not yet."

"We'll do our best," he answers her. "But we could use your help."

Jetanda nods her graying head. "Those corpse-pickers that were circling your patients when I arrived?"

"The same."

"I can't stop them, but I can get them to act with a bit more respect," she declares, stiffening her back once more.

"Thank you, priestess."

This she slashes from the air before taking a place beside Dunc's bed. When she gets there, she takes a carved stone trinket from one of her pockets and places it next to his head. Unfortunately, she stands between the object and my camera.

She never stays long, at these visits of hers, so I'll see it soon enough. Jetanda then bends over the stricken youth, and I believe she whispers something to him. Superstitious nonsense, likely, but it cannot hurt him any.

When she straightens up, she looks up and the ceiling, her four arms outspread. "And if you're listening, guardian spirit, I implore you! Watch over this youth and guide him back to us safely."

I'm stunned as I watch her walk out of the room. She leaves behind her the carving, still next to Dunc as he slumbers. Now that I can see the stone object, I am even more puzzled.

It's flat and shapeless, with odd lumps of stone left uncut and jutting out from the irregular edges. In the center of the dark and shapeless rock is a chip of cut glass, round like an eye staring up from the pillow. The glass glitters in the artificial lighting, and rainbows dance within it. I cannot understand the relevance of this fetish, until it hits me like a tidal wave.

That rock must represent the spirit world, and the round glass eye in the center is, of course, the guardian spirit. She can only have meant the voice that had guided her people into the stars with false promises. A harmless belief that must comfort her in the uncertainty that is her existence. If she chooses to resume her place as priestess among her people, it would be unkind of me to disillusion her.

In my race's long history, we have encountered many different species. Most of them place their faith in hidden powers, beings that they believe watch over them and guide the worlds around them. My people have discovered that this is not so.

There are indeed higher dimensional beings, whose existence is so far removed from our own that we cannot comprehend each other. Those being that our dust eaters stumbled across possess powers in their own realms that they could not properly describe to us, only stating that these uncaring gods are better left alone.

It's doubtful that the voice the Tserri describe belongs to such a being. Their accounts depict an intelligence that, while alien, still functions in ways that could interact with creatures of other cultures. Whether the force that guided the Tserri to the stars was acting in their best interests has yet to be proven.

Yosip might have more insight on the significance of the fetish, so I send an image of it to his desk. I'm about to switch to another camera when Dunc stirs. The young officer remains asleep, yet this is more life than he has demonstrated in days. He moans in his sleep, and Pale rushes over.

The many arms of the biomechanical entity twist around both themselves and the gray officer. They quickly withdrew from him. Pale calls Zra over to confirm whatever it is they found. The two confer in a huddle exchanging medical jargon.

I wait patiently for them to reach a consensus, but alas. My attention is requested elsewhere.

"Mos Denn, what have you done now?" Yosip demands answers from me. "Are you trying to start a cult?"