Page 31 of Master (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #3)

“The rain removes the drug from the air, but once mumje takes hold, there is no way to reverse the infection.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So what?” She gestured at the village angrily. “These poor people just stand around drooling for the rest of their lives?”

“No.” I curved my hands over her shoulders. "We can lead those affected to care for themselves, but not cure them.”

"No," Clara whined. "Mei was going to adopt one of the children arriving on the Bardaga. She was so excited."

It took a minute to realize most of the moisture on her cheeks came from her tears.

"I'm sorry, my darlin'."

“We have to do something for them,” Clara wailed, burying her face against my chest. I wrapped an arm around her waist, holding tight, while my other hand reached for Bartholomeus' shoulder.

“Bartholomeus... Mei,” I said as soon as my hand made contact.

The two straightened stiffly. Being under the influence of mumje didn't shield one from the agonizing soreness of holding the same position for hours on end.

However, they could not express discomfort unless allowed.

The two faced me, a faint tilt to their heads as though some part deep down wanted to signal attention.

“Both of you go to Mei’s home and care for yourselves. Clean up, eat, and rest.”

“Are you their master now?” Clara asked softly as we watched Mei and Bartholomeus disappear down a side street.

“Don’t call me that.” My retort came out harsher than intended. I sighed, pulling Clara close. "No man should be master of another. Being responsible for so many…." My voice trailed off, stomach clenching in disgust.

"I agree with you, Tarook. I do." Bright violet eyes regarded me through the drizzle. “But if we don’t accept responsibility for these people, someone awful might.” Her arms slipped around my waist, squeezing tightly. "In my opinion, there's no one better to do this than you."

Clara had a point. Luckily, whoever perpetrated this attack hadn't returned.

No telling who it was or what plans they held for these innocents.

My mind flashed to the image of my father and another man locked in a bloody battle, each too tired to land a blow but fighting for the sport of someone unknown who made himself their master.

“Come with me?” I asked.

“Always.” She pressed her lips to my cheek, the warmth of her mouth a welcome respite from the chilling rain.

Hand in hand, we moved through the crowd.

I stopped beside each villager, gently touching an arm or shoulder while giving the same command— go home, eat, and rest .

Each time, my stomach churned in disgust. I called some of the villagers by name.

.. some names I did not know and prayed the journey home for them would not be too distant.

We found Lula near the bandstand, and at Clara's suggestion, I sent her to Mei's. There was no sign of Buck in the immediate throng.

The rain quelled by the time we made it through the town square, and shards of afternoon sunlight squinted through the cloud cover.

The last people we found were a mother and child huddled under a bench at the edge of the village square. It appeared they'd tried to escape, taking refuge under the only available option. Even in her infected state, she held her child close. I knelt, placing my hand gently on her frail shoulder.

“Go home, clean yourself, eat and rest. Take care of your child.”

A faint moan drew my attention from the pair totting away toward Clara. Her face scrunched in worry, her shoulders shaking as tears fell from her eyes, as furious as the earlier torrent of rain.

“Clara?” I gathered her against my chest. She buried her face in the dampness of my shirt, clinging to me, trembling.

“I can’t help thinking how scared she must have been,” Clara sobbed. “How helpless and powerless she must have felt trying to protect her daughter.”

"We'll protect them. It's a promise," I offered, knowing her tears were as much for the grief over her own daughter as this unknown child.

Pulling her close, I cradled her head against my chest, offering a comforting murmur.

Errant drops splashed from a gray sky; nature not content to let her cry alone.

“What’s going on?”

The shock of another voice broke us apart. We turned in unison to find Buck standing a few feet away. He looked rumpled, face and hair mottled by dirt and leaves. He swayed on his feet while rubbing his temples, but the pale blue eyes were clear.

“Buck!” Clara darted toward him.

"Buck, are you well?” I moved between Clara and the male, watching him squint at us. I would allow Clara no closer until I determined Buck was no threat.

"I—I think so." He rubbed a finger between his brows. "Got a heck of a headache. Ya'll seen Lula?"

Clara and I shared a guilty glance.

"She's at Mei's house resting," I said. It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth.

"Where have you been, Buck?" Clara led us all to a nearby bench.

Buck sagged tiredly onto the seat, the wet wood giving a painful creak.

Clara perched beside him, gingerly laying her fingers against his forehead and cheeks.

I recognized the touch from watching our healer, Hakkar, work.

Buck blushed, embarrassed by her ministrations.

“I woke up in the greenhouse,” Buck chuckled. "I went to water the plants, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up face down in the sweet tater vines, feeling like I'd been on a four-day drunk. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”

As carefully as Clara had touched his forehead, I laid my hand on Buck’s shoulder.

“You weren't tired, my friend.”

Buck raised his head, the humor on his face dying as he met my gaze.

“What happened?”

Somehow, I knew this news would be better coming with a soft touch. I nodded to Clara, and she reached for Buck's hand, clasping it tightly as she explained the last few days' events. I chimed in only when necessary to offer a more detailed explanation of the drug.

“Lula?”

It was the first word he uttered. I understood it. Clara was foremost on my mind… always.

“We sent her to rest at Mei’s house,” Clara said, squeezing his hand. "She's infected, Buck."

He jumped to his feet, tall for a human, but still a head shorter than I stood.

"What does that mean?" His long, thin fingers wrung against each other. "Will she die?"

All the intricacies of Lula's condition sped through my mind. How could I tell him that although she would live, the woman he loved was gone, her every future interaction with him governed by another? It made me sick.

“She’s safe and resting,” Clara assured him, her words calming. “We just need to figure out a way to get her and the others out from under the influence of mumje.”

“How do we do that? His gaze flickered from Clara in the direction of Mei’s cottage.

“A good start is to figure out why the drug didn’t affect you like everyone else,” Clara suggested. Her violet gaze shot to me for a moment before she asked. “Can you tell me exactly what you were doing when the mumje fell?”

Buck frowned, rubbing furiously at the spot between his eyes.

“I was in the greenhouse.” He said the words slowly, forcing them from memory to tongue. “I’d just grabbed the hose to give the sweet tater vines a drink when I heard what sounded like rain hitting the roof.”

“Do you remember seeing particles of white power in the greenhouse?” Clara prodded.

“No.” Buck paused, sinking down on the bench as if the recollection exhausted him. “It got hazy, but I don’t recall any white powder.”

“What happened then?” Clara had the gift of pushing just enough to keep him on track without being overwhelming.

His slender shoulders moved in a heavy shrug. "I don't remember. Like I told you, I woke up face down in the sweet potato plants, my head hurting like I'd been on a bender.”

“The greenhouse isn’t airtight, is it?” Clara wondered aloud.

"No." The last time I saw the structure, it needed several panes of glass.

“I left the door open too,” Buck said absently, his mind elsewhere.

Clara gave a faint hum, the forefinger of her left hand tapping against her lips.

I knew her well enough to recognize the gesture as signaling deep thought.

Her violet gaze swept over the square, dappled sunlight erasing the earlier dismalness.

Her eyes settled on a nearby bush full of deep purple blooms.

Her sharp gasp made me tense.

“Mei’s research!” She jumped to her feet, pacing and tapping her lips so furiously that I feared she might bruise one of my favorite body parts.

"I thought Mei's research was on plants," I remembered. Granted, I'd been paying more attention to Clara's plump, sweet ass than her words when she told me about the science experiments.

"Yes and no," Clara grinned. "Remember, she was working on bolstering a plant's natural defense systems. Her notes said that sweet potatoes have a compound called DMNT.

It's found in other plants, but sweet potatoes have twice the usual amount.

What if something in the mumje triggered the sweet potato's natural defense system, which kept Buck from being infected?

As long as the mumje remained in the air, it kept him kind of out of it , but once the rain fell and neutralized the drug, he woke up.

" Her attention jumped to Buck. "You said you woke up face down in the plants... right?”

“Yes, ma'am." Buck blinked up at her."Still got dirt in my nose.”

"How do we test your theory?" My question only broadened her smile.

“What if we get the sweet potato plants from the greenhouse and see if they help Lula?” Buck suggested, jumping to his feet.

“It’s as good an idea as any,” Clara agreed.

The greenhouse was as I remembered from my last trip to Tau Ceti many years ago, except showing more broken and missing windowpanes. We gathered the plants between the three of us, arriving at Mei’s cottage a few minutes later.