“The Earth campaign commander. I was his aide. While I was away, he fell ill. They shuttled him to the command ship, but the med unit couldn’t save him.”
“That’s how you got separated.”
He didn’t reply, realizing in his panic, he’d already said too much.
“What were the symptoms?”
“Sore throat, runny nasal passages, fatigue, chest congestion. Sneezing was one of the first signs.” The admiral had sneezed during their last conversation. Drek’s voice had sounded nasally, too.
“Ah…” She nodded. “You think because I sneezed, I’m ill?” She regarded him, shaking her head. “First of all, I am not ill. I probably sneezed from dust in the air. Wearein a cave. Many things can bring on a sneeze—dust, black pepper, spicy food, and allergens like pollen, dander, mold. And rhinoviruses like the common cold.
“Your admiral couldn’t have died from a cold. Everybody gets them, and they recover. It’s no big deal. It’s not dangerous.”
“Maybe not to you,” he said, realizing he handed her the means to kill him without bloodshed. Maybe he was already dying. Thecommon coldwas not common to them. They had no immunity, and the med unit had been unable to fabricate a treatment.
He shouldn’t be talking about this. Admitting the leader of the campaign had died exposed a vulnerability. Thank Zok he hadn’t told her any more—like how many millions of his people had perished and that the takeover of her planet had been aborted as a result.
Those stranded on Earth were in a precarious position. While handheld vaporizers were more effective than guns, the Progg were outnumbered by a no-doubt vengeful surviving populace. They would be hunted. That’s what happened to him; he’d been ambushed by a vengeful human.
For his safety and his fellow Progg, the humans had to believe a major threat still existed.
“Besides,” she said. “I haven’t been around anybody to catch a cold. It spreads by touching a contaminated surface or breathing droplets from an infected person—”
“Like from sneezing—”
“Yes,butI haven’t been in contact with a single solitary person in over a year. More likely, I’ll get a disease from you. So, calm the fuck down.” She glowered at him and then surveyed the singed blanket and the puddle of urine and then scowled some more.
Narrowing her eyes, she cocked her head. “Why did you call it the plague?”
“I couldn’t think of the word in your language for disease,” he improvised and swore silently.I must guard my tongue, watch my words.He was ashamed of his panic, the behavior unbecoming a Progg. He felt a little calmer after her explanation, although his concerns were not completely erased.
He had a hunch how the admiral had fallen ill. The regiment had been working with a human informant to ferret out possible hiding places. The informant must have been infected and passed on the disease.
Earth’s best weapons had been ineffective against Progg superiority. Annihilation had been a foregone conclusion.
Except the humans had won. The mighty Progg had been defeated by their own hubris, by failing to take precautions because they didn’t think they had anything to fear. A minor, common disease posing no threat to the native population had been their downfall.
He prayed to Zok she was telling the truth about not being ill.What if she’s sick and doesn’t know it yet?
She regarded him steadily while shaking her head then spun on her heel and left the room, taking the light with her. He sank onto the bunk and held his head in his hands. Would she come back? What would happen now?
Long minutes passed before she returned with a whisk on a pole, a flat tray with a handle, and a couple of lamps. Grav stood up.
“Sit down,” she ordered.
He eyed her warily.
“Sit down, or I’ll breathe on you,” she threatened.
“You said you weren’t sick!”
“I’m not, but you can’t be a 100 percent sure, can you?”’
He sat.
“Don’t freak out, but I’m going to clean up your mess.”
He scooted to the foot of the bed as she approached.
