The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free

to speak, not hers. After recovering from his surprise, Vargas called for the Captain to report to sick bay.
    “You’re on the Starship Cornelia ,” Vargas finally replied. “We represent the Space Corps, from Earth. We responded to your vessel’s SOS and brought you aboard close to two days ago. I am Doctor Vargas, the ship’s Chief Medical Officer. This is Doctor Lieutenant Finnegan, a science officer.” He paused. “I’ve been trying to wake you up.”
    There was a long pause. Then, the Korvali replied, “Attempting to ‘wake’ me would be impossible without the correct conditions.”
    Dr. Vargas glanced at Catherine, then looked back at the Korvali. “So once we supplied you with adequate levels of hydration and nutrition, you woke up on your own.”
    “Yes,” he replied, elaborating no further. He sat perfectly still on medical bed.  
    Just then, two MAs entered sick bay, their weapons in hand as they advanced toward the bed where the Korvali sat. Dr. Vargas put up his hand, and the soldiers ceased their approach and stood aside.  
    Vargas approached the Korvali with his scanner. The Korvali immediately recoiled. Vargas froze, unsure of what to do next.  
    “Does the doctor have permission to scan you?” Catherine offered. “He won’t touch you.”
    The Korvali relaxed slightly, not taking his eyes off Vargas. “Yes.”
    Vargas raised the bed to a full sitting position and began scanning his patient. The Korvali looked uncomfortable but said nothing. Although it didn’t register initially, Catherine realized that he spoke English, and rather well, as though he’d interacted with humans before. He must be a scientist or government official, on his way to make a rare appearance at an Alliance function.
    Vargas finished his scan. “Lieutenant here believes that your ability to enter this stasis was due to some intentional mucking with your… genetic material.”  
    The young man turned his attention back to Catherine, his unblinking gaze peering at her for a moment before he answered. “She is correct.”  
    “You’re not recovered yet,” Vargas said. “Your heart and respiratory rates are better but they’re still pretty low, and you’re running a little hot.”
    “Let me view your instrument.” Vargas, eyebrows knitted, rotated the medical scanner so that the Korvali could see the readout. After examining it for a few moments, he said, “Each result is within normal range for my people.”
    Bewildered, Vargas looked at the readout again. He asked more questions. The Korvali kept his answers quite brief, appearing uninterested in conversing and, on one or two occasions, he simply offered no answer at all. Finally, Vargas gave up and went to download his scanner data. The Korvali turned his attention to Catherine.  
    “The doctor is unaware of your customs,” she said once Vargas stepped out of earshot. “You will find that we all are.” The Korvali continued to watch her, signaling her to continue. “Are you willing to talk about your genome?” It was risky to ask him about genetics. The Korvali rarely shared information, especially about that. But something made her ask anyway.
    “Ask me anything.”
    Catherine, not expecting that response, scrambled to choose her most pressing questions. “So my hypothesis was correct? The epigenomic changes I saw were responsible for your stasis?” She spoke in her most scientific tone, which she used when she was nervous.  
    “Yes.”
    “And your epigenome has been altered so you could survive?”
    “Yes.”
    Unfathomable .  
    He looked at her, encouraging her to continue.  
    “The alterations aren’t enough. What initiated this stasis?” Then the answer came to her. “A drug.”
    “Yes.” He looked almost pleased.  
    “What kind?”
    “You know this. You have a… publication… that discusses a class of related drugs.”
    Catherine stared at him.
    “Are you not Catherine Finnegan, the geneticist who authored the