The Refugee (The Korvali Chronicles Book 1) by C. A. Hartman Page A

of recognition on his face, surreptitiously glanced around as well. “Obeying the Alliance’s rule is easy with others. There is no… temptation… as they know nothing of genetics.”
    Catherine nodded, but said nothing.  
    “Why do you appear concerned?” Eshel asked her. “It is I who is sanctioned, not you.”
    Catherine hesitated, fiddling with her fork. “It was made clear to me that discussing that, with you, would result in my being discharged and sent back to Earth.”
    Eshel raised his eyebrows. “Did the Captain offer this warning?”
    Catherine shook her head. “Commander Steele did. That’s why he made such a fuss about us talking in my office that night.”
    Eshel did not reply.
    After a long silence, Catherine noticed Eshel’s hand. “I have a question, Eshel. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Eshel looked at her, indicating for her to continue. “Your tattoo… the others who escaped with you… they had tattoos as well. Two other kinds. Who were they?”
    Eshel looked down for a moment. “Six of them, those with the branches of the tree… they were from the Osecal clan. They were people of science, seeking to associate with outsiders. The others were Moshal, one of whom was a Guardsman.”
    “He helped you escape.”
    “She,” Eshel corrected. “Yes. One has no chance of escaping Korvalis without the help of the Guard.”
    She. “Were there other females in your group?”
    “Two others,” Eshel said. “We are not as dimorphic as humans… but you could not tell they were female?”
    “They were enshrouded when I saw them. But Vargas didn’t notice it. He didn’t even notice the tattoos until I pointed them out.”
    Eshel scowled slightly. “How does such a person become a physician?”
    Catherine laughed and moved on to a different topic. “I’ve received a lot of inquiries about you.”
    “From whom?”
    “Journalists. Scientists. Other people. They’re dying for information about you. Some of them offered me money. A lot of money.”
    “Why do they come to you?”
    “They know the brass will only give them limited information, so they try to wheedle it out of the rest of us. I guess word got out that I know you.”
    Eshel’s expression grew cold. “What did you tell them?”
    “Everything I knew,” she replied. “I even made some stuff up.”  
    Eshel stared at her.  
    She smiled. “That’s a joke. I didn’t respond to any of them. I wouldn’t share anything about you unless you asked me to.”
    Eshel said nothing for a moment. “Perhaps they contacted you because they learned that you are my friend.”
    Catherine looked up from her plate, a little taken aback at Eshel’s words. She realized he was right. They were friends, and she felt a sense of honor at having earned the title. “Perhaps you’re right.”
    They finished their meals, cleared their trays, and left. Just as they reached the intersection that would send them in separate directions, they came upon a series of shelves built onto the bulkhead. Eshel stopped and examined the shelves, which were filled with a variety of random items, mostly clothing and computer equipment. Next to the shelves was a viewer with digital images of other items.
    “What is this?” Eshel asked. “I have wondered since I arrived.”  
    “This is the Free Box. When you’re on a ship for three years, you tend to acquire things you don’t want, or need things you can’t get, so people dispose of their stuff here and other people take it.”
    He peered at the stuff piled on the shelves. “A good idea.”
    “Most of the time it’s junk, but once in a while you can score something good.”
    “And the images?” he asked, looking at the photo display.  
    “That’s stuff people don’t want to give away, but want to sell or barter for a trade. Look through it,” she said. “You could probably find some things you need.”
    “I will.”
    They said their goodbyes, and Catherine left Eshel to