Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“There’re gardens on Padrugoi and at First Base. And I suspect they’ll be even more important on that proposed Mars Base.”
“If,” and again Rhyssa paused a beat, “the Space Authority ever makes its mind up on the project.”
“They have Pete now.”
Rhyssa finished removing the cleanser. “Yes, they do, but do they know what they have in him?”
“I doubt it. Hey, come to bed, love.”
O
n his nineteenth birthday, Peter opted to take his special friends to dinner in a well-recommended uptown ziggurat restaurant. Rhyssa, Dave, Johnny Greene, Lance Baden, Tirla, Sascha, Dorotea, and Amariyah were his guests. It was Amariyah’s first adult outing and Tirla had taken her shopping. Amariyah Bantam had inherited her parents’ estate, including their insurances, and they had been prudent managers, so she had independent means. Although the interest from the total—which was carefully invested by the Center’s Financial Office—was more often spent in acquiring horticultural rarities, she could afford to dress herself stylishly. Peter had reserved a first balcony table, which had not only the hanging baskets of exotic flowers that fascinated Amariyah but an impressive, downtown view of Jerhattan. Theirs was a more sedate party than the one on the balcony above, which got louder and louder as the evening progressed.
Rhyssa, watch out!
Amalda Vaden’s telepathed warning distracted her from accepting her slice of birthday cake. It took Rhyssa a moment to wonder what Mallie was warning her against and then it was almost too late. She had little time to react because events had already been set in motion. The party above them had erupted into angry shouts and curses. She had time to
try
to get a shield out over Peter’s guests. The next moment two bodies hurtled over the balcony railing and dropped, striking Peter flat against the table, knocking both Rhyssa and Amariyah, seated next to him, off their chairs.
Johnny and Lance “lifted” the pair off, dumping them unceremoniously to the floor to continue flailing at each other. Dave helped Rhyssa to
her feet, Sascha went to Amariyah, who had been dazed by a blow to her head. Dorotea was bending over the unconscious Peter, feeling for a neck pulse. Amariyah surged to her feet, covered with cake, and lunged for Peter with an inarticulate cry. Tirla, being nearest, caught her. The child struggled, moaning with anguish.
He didn’t have his shields up!
Dorotea cried in consternation.
Why would he? At his birthday party and in a respectable restaurant
, Rhyssa replied, caustic with fear and anger as Dave steadied her.
I tried to help. Is Peter all right?
She pulled Dave with her as she joined Dorotea examining him.
How is Amariyah?
She’s got cake all over her
, Tirla said in disgust, and reached for napkins and a water glass.
Secure those two
, Rhyssa said needlessly because Johnny and Lance had already exerted force on the drunken pair and they were locked motionless, face to face on the floor, arms outstretched as each was aiming blows at the other. Gargling sounds came from their throats but they couldn’t move.
I want a medical team here instantly, Sirikit
, she ’pathed to the Duty Office at the Center.
Johnny and Lance can ’port them. Just tell me who!
All conversation had ceased in the restaurant at the sound of the crash. Now curious guests were trying to see what had happened. Those on the upper floor were leaning over, their queries slurred by the drink they had taken. Two waiters came forward, one of them beckoning urgently to the maître d’ who hurried up the short flight of steps, undoubtedly forming apologies and stopping short as he took in the damage, and the inert body.
The lights of the restaurant dimmed as Johnny and Lance used that source of power to effect the arrival of the medicopter. Instantly the emergency trio homed in on Peter.
He’s got broken bones
, Dorotea said, anxiously wringing her hands. Peter had not yet developed osteoporosis but brittle bones were associated with long-term paralysis. His exercises on the Reeve Board and frequent massage were supposed to slow the onset.
Dave had an arm about Rhyssa’s shoulders, trying to console her. Sascha gave them a short nod, indicating that he had reported the incident to LEO headquarters.
Boris is coming. Johnny, Lance, bring him in
, Sascha added and suddenly there was a LEO copter hovering sideways outside the windows. Boris Roznine peered into the restaurant and then gave crisp orders. The
copter swept away to the helipad on the next level. In moments, uniformed officers were rounding up those in the disruptive party. Boris arrived on the first balcony with two more officers. He halted when he saw Peter.
Is he all right?
he asked Sascha.
We’re checking. Those are the ones responsible. Bury them deep in the LEO cells, will you, bro?
As deep as the law allows me
, was Boris’s response and he signaled for assistance.
“Fractures to the right arm, leg, and rib cage,” the emergency medic was reporting to Rhyssa. “I don’t think his neck, or his back, are injured. His pelvis might be. A portable scanner’s on its way in.”
Rhyssa came as near to fainting as she ever had, leaning into Dave’s supporting body. Dorotea started to weep. Lance, who was nearest, assisted her to a chair and ordered a brandy. Cursing and uttering dire threats in a variety of languages, Tirla was attempting to clean cake off Amariyah’s pretty dress. Amariyah, tears streaming down her face, kept her eyes on Peter. Then Tirla grabbed the arm of one of the medics, and pointed to Amariyah.
“She’s in shock,” she said, and the woman swung round to check the dazed child.
I’m terribly, terribly sorry, Rhyssa
, Mallie said.
It all blew up so suddenly. One moment it was all right and then I felt the precog. How badly is Peter hurt?
We don’t know yet. I saw the falling bodies and tried to shield him. The portable scanner just got here. He’s alive. Tell me something good will come of this, Mallie. There’s got to be something good out of it
.
A long pause.
He isn’t going to die. He can’t hurt, you know. He’ll heal. I see nothing else
.
Thanks
.
Wish I’d been just that little bit faster
, Mallie’s repentant voice dwindled into silence.
“He will be all right, Rhyssa,” Dave said. “He survived the wall. He’ll survive this. He
is
a survivor!”
The portable MRI scanner was in place, clicking as it was slowly passed over the unconscious victim. Rhyssa leaned close enough to see the monitor that Bob Gerace, the emergency medic, was intently watching.
“Yup, buckle fracture of the humerus, three, no four, broken ribs, a
hairline fracture of the right pelvic bone, a break in the femur, fortunately just past the joint so he’ll,” Gerace hesitated on “walk again” and then continued briskly, “well, nothing that won’t mend. No internal injuries that are visible on the portable. It could have been worse, Rhyssa.”
“It’s quite bad enough as it is, Bob,” she said tartly, and felt Dave’s hands on her elbows, calming her. “No further damage to his spine?” she asked because she had to know.
“He had enough to begin with, Rhyssa,” Gerace said with a grimace. “It was obviously a glancing blow, all the injuries are on the right side. Okay, people, let’s immobilize him.” He visibly winced at his choice of words, apologizing for his gaffe even as he placed a protective shell over Peter’s upper arm.
With skill and speed, the breaks were given first aid. Johnny and Lance kinetically turned him over and laid him very, very carefully on the litter.
“D’you know Henry Hudson Hospital?” Gerace asked of no one in particular. “It’s nearest.”
“I do,” Rhyssa said, turning to Johnny and Lance.
Take the placement from my mind
. She let them see the accident and emergency facility at the uptown hospital.
Again the lights dimmed as the ’port was made.
On the level above, indignant guests were complaining about being detained by LEO officers. Conversations were muted in the main dining room and most of the curious diners had gone back to their tables.
“C’mon,” Boris said, with a jerk of his head in the direction of the stairs. “I’ll fly the rest of you there.”
“I think, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take Amariyah home,” Dorotea said.
“We’ll come with you,” Tirla said, gesturing for Sascha to accompany them.
“I’ll get transport,” Boris said, giving a crisp order on his wristcom.
The maître d’ was hovering on the fringe. “Ah, there’s the matter of the bill …” he began, and then backed off, scissoring his hands to indicate he hadn’t meant that at all as Boris and Sascha both glared fiercely at him.
Boris motioned for the others to follow him to the helipad. They reached the accident ward just as Peter was being taken to surgery. He had not regained consciousness but Bob Gerace and the resident orthopedic
man had conferred over the results of the MRI and decided how to proceed. Gerace was trying to argue the doctor out of anesthesia since Peter had no feeling in his body.
“What if he wakes up in the middle of the procedure?” the man demanded.
“I am Rhyssa Owen Lehardt,” she said, marching up to him. “I will be present. Just in case he decides to ’port himself out of reach. Which is, I assure you, the more likely danger than that he would have any sensation. He also reacts badly to anesthesia.”
“Oh.” The doctor acquiesced without a single word about hospital protocol.
“We’ll be right outside,” Johnny said in his best military voice.
P
eter did not regain consciousness until he was in the bed of a private suite of rooms in the Henry Hudson Hospital.
You’re all right, Peter
, Rhyssa said in the softest possible ’path when his eyes slowly opened.
I’m right here
.
He blinked, swallowing. He didn’t feel a thing but he could smell “hospital” around him. He turned his head toward her.
“What happened? One minute I’m cutting the cake …”
She explained tersely.
“I can’t feel a thing, you know.”
“Fortunately,” she replied in a light tone. “They’ve glued you back together. You’re in one piece again.”
“That’s good,” he said, matching her levity. “Maybe I should have taken you all up to Padrugoi. The view there is terrific, too, you know.”
“You’d’ve at least had your shield protecting you up there,” she retorted, letting some of her anxiety show.
He made a face. “I should’ve kept a shield up. I’m sorry, Rhyssa, but I didn’t think I’d need it at my birthday party. And in such a respectable restaurant.” Scaring her, he shot upright in the bed. “Did anyone remember to pay the bill?”
Rhyssa was on her feet beside him, trying to get him to lie back as the monitor caught the rise in his vital signs and set off the alarm. Nurses and a doctor rushed in, gawked to see the multiple-fracture patient able to sit upright in the bed.
“He’s all right. He’s a kinetic. He can do this,” Rhyssa explained.
“I don’t care what he is, madam,” the doctor said, attempting to push Peter down to the mattress. “He’s on complete bed rest.”
“Peter!” Rhyssa said, urging him with voice and gesture to a supine position.
“How’d he do that?” asked the nurse who was examining the monitor screen.
“Trade secret,” Peter said, suddenly hoarse. “I’m thirsty and hungry and I missed my birthday cake.”
The intern was not amused but, after he had assured himself that the antics had not interfered with the newly set bones, he left.
Rhyssa didn’t know whether to cry with relief or give Peter a piece of her mind.
No need to do either
, Peter said. “But I am hungry and I am thirsty and I don’t know where the kitchens are in this place.”
“We have one handy,” Rhyssa said, and went to the serving facility of the suite to see what was on hand. “Just about anything you want. A piece of birthday cake will take a little longer.”
I’ll make one immediately
, Dorotea said in her mind, immeasurably relieved.
How long have you been listening?
Rhyssa wanted to know.
I didn’t stop listening
, Dorotea replied in a tart mental tone.
What kind of cake do you want?
I’d like double chocolate with boiled icing
, Peter promptly replied.
I’ll just turn the oven on and get Amariyah to help me. And, if she isn’t allowed to see Peter at the first available moment, I won’t be responsible for her mental state
.
Could she hear me, Dorotea?
Peter asked, his expression anxious.
Try. She might just be receptive. She’s been so worried about you! Good Lord. I think she did hear you. She’s just stopped that silent weeping of hers. She’s got the funniest expression on her face. Yes, Amariyah, Rhyssa’s with him and we’re to bake a chocolate cake with boiled icing to make up for the one he didn’t get to eat. All right, now just get out the big bowls
.
“Is Dorotea ’pathing to her?” Peter asked, astonished.
“No, she’s vocalizing to Amariyah. Juice? There’s anything you can name.”
“Apple if there is some.”
“Apple it is,” and Rhyssa returned quickly with a large glass. “Don’t you dare sit up again, Peter Reidinger. You’re to use a straw or that monitor will have them all in here again.”
While he dutifully sipped, she sent word to those waiting anxiously to hear from her. Dave, Lance, and Johnny were in the cafeteria, drinking coffee. They came up to reassure themselves with the vision of Peter, ’porting the glass and dutifully sipping from a straw. Then Dave insisted on taking Rhyssa home. Johnny said he’d take the first shift and Lance made himself comfortable in the small guest room of the suite.
“Can’t I have pretty nurses?” Peter asked with mock petulance.
“I
know it’s breakfast time,” Dorotea said when she and an anxious Amariyah arrived in Peter’s room the next morning, bearing a covered cake dish and a bouquet of choice blooms from their gardens.