Read Online Dana Cartwright Mission 1: Stiletto by Joyz W. Riter - Free Book Online

crash,” she admitted. “We chatted while he was pinned in the rubble for many hours.”
    Cray took a quick peek into the coffin, but sheepishly bowed his head a moment, as if telepathically in contact with Kieran. Then he turned away, uncomfortable seeing his bodyguard was, essentially, naked. “Pardon me, doctors. I’ll leave you to your discussion and give Colonel Jai his privacy.”
    Cray and his aide quickly ducked out. Garcia scowled. “Did I say something to offend?”
    “Alphan males rarely bare their bodies to dignitaries or elders. It’s a sign of disrespect,” Dana answered.
    “Oh…” Garcia stared down at her. “You appear to know a great deal more about Alphan customs than I do.”
    Exactly what Dana feared. “Please be honest with me, Doctor Garcia. Are you certified for neurosurgery on an Alphan?”
    “Not exactly.” Garcia led out to his desk and swiveled the viewer. “The damage is far beyond repair. Even with surgery, I dare say the Colonel will never walk again. We might restore some sensation and, perhaps, some control of bodily functions; but I doubt full locomotion.”
    Dana heard but disagreed. “I believe your estimate is too low.”
    “So your specialty is neuro?” Garcia jabbed.
    “My specialty is neuro-ophthalmology and transplantation,” she returned.
    “Oh…eyes.” He stared into hers. “Yours are quite fascinating. Complete heterochromia iridia. Haven’t seen another mismatch like it for many years.”
    Dana’s dislike for the surgeon increased from mild to acute, but she remained polite as she asked, “Will you do the left hand surgery first?”
    “I’ve asked the Star Service for a hand specialist.”
    Her shoulders sagged. “Let me guess, they recommended Doctor David Cartwright of MCE?”
    “Yes. Are you related?”
    “He raised me,” Dana answered.
    Garcia let out another, “Oh,” then swiveled the viewer back to front. “Perhaps you’d like to assist. Oh-nine-hundred tomorrow is the schedule.”
    “DOC doesn’t like MATs. I assume you’re sending a shuttle to fetch him at MCE.”
    Garcia nodded.
    “They should have left Kieran at MCE, with me,” Dana grumbled.
    “Yes, well…” Doctor Garcia offered a non-committal smile. “The Colonel is here now. Safe.”
    “I’d like to visit with him awhile longer and check some readings on the coffin,” Dana said. She wasn’t asking for permission.
    Garcia’s eyebrows shot upward. “Are you… intimates?”
    She frowned, “Hardly, Doctor.”
    “Friends then?”
    The question seemed a bit too intrusive, but she understood where he was going with that line of questioning. “I am still officially his attending physician, under MCE rules. We also share some memories in common.” She turned the corner and stood beside the coffin, as though she was reviewing the data again. Her left hand rested on the clear top, just above Kieran’s heart.  
    When she closed her eyes, he whispered telepathically.  

    Doctor Dana? Please, please help me!
    I’m here…
    Please… Do the spine surgery. Please…
    I’m not certified for a spinal weave, but I can ask to assist…
    I can link with you. I can guide you…
    Link?
    Like a Galaxean mind link.
    You’re not a surgeon, Kieran. How can you guide me?
    I can… Trust me. I trust you — only you.
    You hardly know me, Kieran.
    You saved my life. There are no accidents, Dana. You were on that landing platform and I was aboard that shuttle for a reason.
    Synchronicity?
    Read Carl Jung’s writings.
    I have… Inconclusive.

    She could quote Jung verbatim. Kieran beat her to it.

    When coincidences pile up in this way, one cannot help being impressed by them — for the greater the number of terms in such a series, or the more unusual its character, the more improbable it becomes.

    “Yes, well,” Dana scoffed.
    Doctor Garcia called to her, “Sorry, were you talking to me?”
    “Was reviewing the idea of synchronicity,” Dana said.
    “Oh, yes. I was just