Don Yosip and Somner Zek lead a work crew through the newest park. The crew carry carved stone blocks in their armored claws. At Zek's direction the crew place these cubes in scattered locations where she claims they'll receive the best resonance.

  With almost direct exposure to the harsh outer void, this park requires a massive radiation shielding generator that dominates a building sized room. Its location under the center of the park allows it to work at the maximum possible efficiency, though it still draws enormous energy to run.

  The energy, the components of the generator, and the space it occupies are all becoming free to be put to better uses. Work crews disassemble the bulky construction with practiced skill. Parts that can be immediately useful are their first targets. Less important components pile up in the already tight access tunnels. Another shift will transfer the bulk parts to warehouses later.

  One of the deconstruction crewmembers gives Yosip a circuit board used in the gravity generators at the nearby hospital. Yosip nods his thanks and holds the well wrapped component under one arm. He'll be leading Zek there next and can pass it off to someone working to finish the hospital.

  The worker thanks Yosip, perhaps too enthusiastically, before turning to rush back to the access tunnels. Zek stops the armored Tserri and presses a carved block into his claws along with giving him detailed instructions on where to place it.

  "Firmly in the back lower portion," repeats the worker, enthusiasm draining.

  The green robed Somner slides past him and reaches down to pluck a young blade of grass. She looks at it momentarily before she puts it into her mouth. As she chews, she hums without any discernable rhythm. Her mouthparts gain a greenish tinge. Taking that for a dismissal, the worker hurries off.

  Yosip watches, shaking his head. With a sigh he turns back to his borrowed crew. They stand there, laden with stone cubes.

  "Where do you want the next one?"

  "I think that was the last one for this sector. From here we need five for the hospital," answers Yosip. "Right, Zek?"

  Yosip turns to address the thaumatist but freezes in shock.

  "Sir?" The crimson armored Tserri sounds concerned. "Is she supposed to be eating dirt?"

  Yosip shrugs then shakes his head. "Just take the stones to the hospital. She can join us when she's ready."

  I activate a speaker to advise Yosip on how to expediently handle the dust eater. Yosip turns at the familiar brief crackling sound of feedback but before I can speak, I hear my name being shouted not far away. Inside the hospital, a nurse is having serious trouble with her newest patient.

  Mimba yells, "Mos Denn, spirits above, anyone. Help!"

  Smoke gushes from her medical powered suit. The enhanced gravity and air thick with the sulfurous compounds the heavy worlder requires for proper health work together to limit her mobility. Gashes in her helmet and across her legs match the claws on her assailant's thick arms.

  The thick walls prevent her shouts from reaching any of her colleagues outside of the sealed observation room. Alone, she calls upon even the unlikeliest of helpers. I may be the only one who hears her. I alert her closest coworker, Zra.

  Stubby claws swipe through the air. Mimba tries to dodge, managing half a step back before the powerful claws shred the armor on her upper left arm. Scarlet sprays onto light tan fur and yellow medical shroud. The patient roars, mind lost to primal motives. His compound eyes track Mimba's fallen body as he sends her sprawling across the floor. She collides with the wall with a heavy thud and a pained grunt.

  I review my options, before the former tribal can harm the nurse again. Deactivating the room's additional gravity generator causes the enraged biped to stumble and fall. Mimba struggles but cannot get purchase to stand. I think she might be seriously injured.

  The patient's ears swivel madly as he fights for balance. His progress is slow but continuous. Roars punctuate his steady approach as he draws closer to the delirious Mimba. The alien is regaining his balance too quickly.

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  Outside the room, Zra puts on an armor suit as quickly as he can. He is no fighter. Even with the armor, I fear he will be little help.

  With Mimba's suit gaping open, I would prefer not to use the atmospheric controls. But if I want her to live, I fear there is little choice.

  Sedative fog rolls out of the vents. Tserri physiology is close enough to the alien patient's that it affects both similarly.

  Zra finishes dressing and turns to enter the security code on the door. I open it, unwilling to risk Mimba's life on security theater.

  The blood frenzying creature who, in a better reality might have been an accountant or a sea water merchant, swipes again. Stubby claws sink into reinforced composite plating and rip. A tide of fog rises over them both.

  Mimba screams once more and passes out. Her patient collapses next to her.

  Zra rushes into the room. The security door shuts behind him. Only a little sulfur rich fog escapes into the hallway.

  I use the remote features of the medical suit to decouple segments of the armor. Zra removes them, not wasting time on wondering why they're coming apart before he can touch them.

  As soon as her wounds are exposed, Zra uses his claw tips to extract shards of jagged metal and fiber mesh from her muscles. A scanner built into his helmet ensures he misses none.

  The other patient stirs dangerously next to them, but Zra works on. Once each wound is cleared of foreign matter, he sprays chemicals calibrated to her species to disinfect the area. Another spray follows to seal the wound in artificial skin. Lastly, he applies adhesive sealant strips to keep the area clean.

  As he operates, the air in the room clears. Smoothly operating ventilation systems filter and separate the chemicals for reuse before returning the air to the hospital's atmosphere.

  Two more nurses hurry into the room in time to see Zra inject the patient with a stronger sedative. One of the nurses carefully carries Mimba out. The other takes over care of the sedated alien.

  The lighter medical suits prove adequate for their intended purpose, aiding Zra immensely in his operation. The design needs further refinement, however. The thinner armor fails to provide enough protection. Fancy tools cannot aid a corpse.

  Crimson stains the armor Zra wears as he turns away tiredly, eyes tracking Mimba.

  The armor also takes too long to put on, even with the weight reduction.

  Zra follows Mimba's senseless body down to the second floor. There the nurse places her into a clean bed in a private room.

  "Mos, I know you're there. Let someone know I'm taking a break," he says, sitting in the chair next to the bed. "I'm going to stay here and monitor Mimba. At least until she wakes up. And thanks, you helped a lot."

  "You're welcome," I reply quietly.

  The healer smiles briefly. He turns worriedly when the injured nurse makes a pained sound in her sleep.

  "What happened in there?"

  The video of the incident is easy to locate. The third floor of the hospital has special security flags on all records, making them stand out in the sea of files. I review it quickly, then activate the screen meant for entertaining recovering patients. I play the relevant segment for the medic.

  We watch as, a shift prior, a nurse injects sedative into the patient. New as she is to the procedure, it is excusable that she doesn't notice that the thick fur of the patient, as well as leathery skin and dense musculature, hinders the proper application of the drug.

  The needle comes out of the thick skin with a slight curve. The nurse, receiving a call to come assist with a group of tourists with severe lacerations from a bar fight, doesn't notice the state of the needle as she throws it into the trash chute.

  Another segment of video shows the muscular creature wakening from its slumber at Mimba's entrance. She notices that the creature is awake too late. He springs from the bed, body at ease in the heightened gravity and she turns to run. His thin medical robe rips from the violent movement. He catches her before she can reach the door. I terminate the display when she begins shouting for assistance.

  "He fooled the monitors by staying still. That shows foresight," observes Zra.

  "That or the creature is simply lazy," I counter, half joking.

  Zra makes the complex Tserri shrug. "Perhaps. I'll review the patient's blood levels later to be sure, but I think the sedative had fully worn off. Have you ever seen his race before?"

  Thousands of civilizations, once thriving, now lay in ruins thanks to the scourge that is the Southern Tribals. Able to travel instantly between distant worlds, their reach spreads across the galaxy. Their inborn ability to target developing cultures keeps space free of true advancement.

  It is possible that this specimen belongs to a species that I might have experience with. My career spans more seasons than most could claim. Yet in all that time I know that I couldn't have seen more than a tiny fraction of all the races the tribals control. The Spanless Empire tries to dam the tide of the parasitic cannibals, but their numbers far outstrip our own.

  "I do not know them. I avoided heavy worlds, mostly. After the battle on Bent Peak, my lung couldn't function well under the stress."

  Those worlds are given to the Svost to cleanse. The black robed dust eaters excel in such conditions.

  "We can't keep calling him 'the patient' forever," murmurs Zra. He reaches to scratch at an itch in his fur, but his claws clang off his suit. "There's a creature on my world that has claws that can dig through stone. We call it a rock thrawl."

  "What does this rock thrawl look like?"

  He spreads his upper claws maybe a ubit and a third apart. "About so big. Fat with reddish skin. Tiny red eyes and recessed ears. Long skinny snouts to catch buried grubs and chisel teeth to chew through deep roots. Thin stripe of black fur running along its spine ending on its stub tail."

  "So nothing like your patient, then?"

  Zra shrugs again. "Better than Patient One. And the claws are the same."

  "Thrawl he can be, then. I'll update the records."