Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“Of course,” she said. Then she stroked the other fractured places with comforting pats of her hand. “He was scanned two days ago. He is showing progress.”With a deft flick of her arms, she flipped a long towel over Peter’s prone body. “There. That is enough for today. You have Johnny to talk to. Would you care for some refreshments?” she asked, turning solicitously to the general.
“As long as it’s home-baked,” and Johnny licked his lips in anticipation. “Don’t get much of that up on Padrugoi.”
“That is not what Peter tells us,” she said as she left.
What is the situation on Padrugoi, Johnny?
The general grimaced with dissatisfaction.
I’ve gone as far as I can go
,
Pete. The cargo corrals are bursting the edges of their nets. For the next exciting installment, we need you. In the new contract with SpaceShifters International, shipping costs went up eight percent. Not only do freighters require full crews, talk about featherbedding—the thrust to get them under way guzzles fuel. Once a freighter’s up to speed, it can drift down to the Moon, make a braking orbit, and use a brief burn to assume orbit. More to start back to Padrugoi. Hell, we could send down twice as much payload if we didn’t have to use up so much cargo space for fuel and all that extra crew
.
An expense that you hope I’ll be able to reduce?
You got it in one, Pete
. That was when Johnny noticed that Peter’s treasured picture of the
Andre Norton
was partially obscured by the
Arrakis
and high-resolution shots of First Base and the moonscape surrounding it.
Simulating Limo flights, huh?
He swung the chair about and ran a finger down one of the glide-pattern lines, ending at the First Base field and three lonely cargo containers, their hatches open to their emptiness.
Well, it beats watching the tri-d
.
Johnny grinned at Peter’s sudden flush and decided that the kid was embarrassed to be caught at it. No harm really, in his studying shuttle piloting when he had little else to do while healing.
You know
, Johnny added casually, adding another bone for Peter to worry while he was convalescing,
I’ve been doing some use-energy study on myself, like how many calories I burn when I’m lifting. Rather interesting
. He took a pencil file from his blouse pocket and set it on the worktop.
Here are Lance’s study records of you, lifting this, that, and everything, here, there, and everywhere. I think you’ll notice that you’re much more economical, calorically speaking
.
Having spoken his piece, he was properly appreciative of the tea, sandwiches, and little pastries that Dorotea and Amariyah brought in. They had an enjoyable conversation. When Johnny took his leave, he paused briefly.
“Oh, Station scuttlebutt has Madlyn dating Dash Sakai.”
“She is?” Peter grinned with delight. “He noticed?”
“You might say her interest was brought to his attention.” Johnny Greene gave them all a farewell salute.
———
T
hree weeks later, the Center’s chief medical consultant, Martin McNulty, and Dr. Coulson, an orthopedic specialist sent in by the Space Authority for an impartial opinion, pronounced Peter medically fit.
“In fact, if we didn’t have the accident scans to compare with,” the orthopedic man said, “I’d wonder if they ever had been broken. There is, as I’m sure you’re aware, McNulty, some osteopenia.”
“Peter takes dietary supplements against loss of bone mineralization.”
“Not as much muscle atrophy as I’d expect.”
Peter did not like the way Coulson regarded him: as an object rather than a person. He hated being discussed as if he weren’t there, as if he were nothing more than a pronoun.
“Of course, Peter regularly uses his Reeve Board in exercising, has frequent deep tissue massage, swims, and he doesn’t put any strain on his skeleton,” the Center’s medic remarked, eyeing his patient. Martin McNulty was empathic with some contact telepathy to augment that ability. “Being kinetic has some advantages, doesn’t it, Pete?”
Peter nodded, his eyes darting to Coulson’s incredulous expression as he looked from the accident MRI image to the one on the monitor. His professional manner did not conceal doubt from his very perceptive patient.
“Of course, there’d be less weight on those bones in space,” Martin went on.
“Padrugoi Station has gravity!”
“Yes, but still only 0.75 of Earth normal now that the Station is in full operation. Visitors find that more comfortable, you know,” Martin replied.
“Whichever,” and Coulson flicked his fingers in dismissal of the difference, “I have to concede that those bones are clinically whole.” He touched Peter on the shoulder, unaware that Talents, especially Peter, disliked casual physical contact. “You can go back to work as soon as they’ll have you,” he said, with a patronizing smile.
Pete
, Martin said warningly when the patient shifted his body away from the orthopedic man’s touch.
He doesn’t know better
.
“Thank you, Dr. Coulson,” Peter said, gliding away from tactile range.
Martin deftly maneuvered the specialist out of the treatment room. “If you’ll just sign the certificate that Pete’ll have to produce to his employers,
Sidney,” he said, a subtle empathy reinforcing his suggestion, “we won’t need to take more of your time.” He closed the door behind him, which was as well because Peter ’ported himself back to his room where he let out his burst of exultation.
You’ve been cleared?
Dorotea asked from the kitchen.
Now don’t worry, Tea. Doctor Coulson doubted I’d ever broken anything, despite all the scans
.
Really? You’ve healed that well?
Peter was far too elated to hear the odd tone of her voice. He only knew that he could go back up to Padrugoi as soon as he could organize his departure.
Do wait until after dinner, dear
, Dorotea said placidly.
I’ve got your favorite casserole in the oven and Amariyah’s done you an apricot pie for dessert. Besides which, you’d better speak to Rhyssa
.
Rhyssa already knows
, Rhyssa and Peter replied in unison. Peter’s triumphant laugh echoed down the hall to the kitchen and telepathically up to Rhyssa in her office.
Rhyssa?
Peter added.
Can you tell Johnny Greene? Madlyn should be on watch and can pass the good news along
.
Of course
, Rhyssa replied with no hint of her mixed feelings. She was, of course, delighted that Peter had passed the physical but she was also depressed that he was so eager to return to Padrugoi.
You can understand his urgency, though, can’t you?
Dorotea said on a tight message.
Yes, I can
.
Don’t sound so defeated and why don’t you and Dave come down for pie. Amariyah’s crust is always flakier than mine. When are you going to be able to ship up that empath and the hydroponics specialist? Peter needs some empathic company up there
.
I’ve held Ceara Scott back to go up with him and Ping Yung is already onstation
.
Then you’ll have done your best for him once again
.
Oh, I do hope so
.
Of course you have
, and Dorotea’s tone was testily reassuring.
Though, perhaps he should be doing more for himself
.
I beg your pardon?
Now don’t get huffy with me, Rhyssa Owen Lehardt!
Dorotea replied tartly.
One of these days he’s going to get into a situation he’ll have to get himself out of, you know!
Yes
, and Rhyssa’s mental tone was abruptly contrite.
You can’t be worried anymore about those stupid threats Cass overheard in court?
Dorotea went on.
As if that drunk would ever be hired onto the Station in any capacity. He wouldn’t pass the age limit much less the physical. Peter
is
safer on Padrugoi, doing what he’s good at and loves
.
C
eara Scott was a space-medicine physician, joining Padrugoi Station for several jobs: one was to do her grant experimentation on the effect of weightlessness on the bone mass of the casual workers—the polite term for grunts. Another was to monitor Peter’s physical condition and the third was to discern any antagonism toward him, either personally or in his capacity as a teleport/telepath.
When Rhyssa announced that she had to be ready to take up her assignment on Padrugoi by ten
P.M
. that day, she was instantly flustered.
“I haven’t got anything packed, Ms. Lehardt. I mean, I knew I’d be going
soon
, but that’s awful soon.”
“Ten o’clock tomorrow morning?”
“Oh, no, I mean, yes I could probably make that but …” The young woman was clearly rattled.
“Just pack what you’d need for the first few days, Ceara, and we’ll see that the rest follows. Would that help?”
“Noon?” was the tremulous option suggested.
“That will be fine. Shall I send Sirikit over to give you a hand?”
“Oh, would you? Please. I’m sorry to be a nuisance.”
“Not at all, Ceara. The delay suits me fine,” Rhyssa said, and with a cheerful smile, broke the comm connection.
“Putting off the inevitable?”
“You heard Ceara,” Rhyssa said, trying not to sound defensive. “She’s the delay.”
Dave grinned at her. “When are we invited for apricot pie?”
“About seven-thirty.”
“Just us?”
“I suspect so.”
“Then why are you wringing your hands, Rhys?” Dave asked, cocking his right eyebrow at her.
“I am?” Rhyssa hastily rubbed her hands on her pants legs. She stood up. “I think I will actually be relieved to have him back on Padrugoi.”
“Look, Rhys,” and he put his arms about her waist, drawing her into him, “the drunk and disorderly guys haven’t finished their term of community service and, double-banded as they are by LEO, there’s no way they could get into the Center here. And there’s even less chance of one getting on Padrugoi.”
“You saw the latest of their on-line threats.”
“And,”he said, hugging her, “I saw Boris’s report of how quickly the pair were arrested. The Faithful Brotherhood of the whatever they called their little coven are now all tagged and their associations identified as well. You
know
that.”
She sighed. “I know it. Do they?”
“Pete’ll be safe for the next four weeks. You can always suggest he take his free week at Johnny’s.” When he felt her stiffen slightly, “Okay, so that’s the most obvious alternative. At Lance’s then, or Kayankira’s, or at your parents’ place in Montana.”
“Dorotea and Amariyah would never forgive me.”
“At Tirla’s then.
No one
could ask for better security than that. It wouldn’t arouse Peter’s suspicions, unless you broadcast them. Dorotea and Amariyah can go there. You know Maree is great with Tirla’s Hyper Twins.”
Rhyssa gave her husband a reproachful look.
“Well, they’re a handful,” Dave said.
“Our kids aren’t?”
“We had them one at a time and got used to ’em.”
“Which reminds me, I promised to read Eoin a story. Did I tell you I actually got reproductions of the Dr. Seuss books?”
“Several times.” He kissed her and let her go. He didn’t have an ounce of psychic ability but he’d been reading her body language—with great appreciation—for six years. He might not know exactly
what
was worrying his wife but he knew when she was upset and could comfort her.
———
P
eter Reidinger had been all set to dislike Dr. Ceara Scott on sight when he found out from Rhyssa that the space-medicine specialist had been unable to leave the moment he had clearance. She arrived at the Jerhattan telepad in a ground vehicle filled with family and three carrying cases. She’d taken another twelve hours to pack that little?
Some people organize their packing
, Rhyssa reminded him. She had said her good-bye the previous evening, Dorotea affectionately but not fussily ten minutes ago. It had been Amariyah who had clung to him, her fingers patting each one of the old fractures as if reassuring herself of his health. Peter hated it when Amariyah cried, the silent tears streaming down her face.
“No, dear,” Dorotea had said firmly. “Give Peter a happy face.”
An obedient grimace sent the tears to one side of the nine-year-old face.
“See? I’m smiling,” Amariyah said, spoiling it with a gulping sob.
“I promise, Maree,” Peter said, leaning down to rest his cheek against her wet face, “I’ll see if you can come up on a visitor’s pass. You and Dorotea.”
“Don’t include me,” Dorotea said, urgently waving away the offer.
“Well, you and Ted, too, so you can both see the hydroponic gardens.”
“The gardens? I could see them?” The child brightened.
“Didn’t I promise?”
Go now, Peter
, Dorotea said, lightly putting her hands on Amariyah’s shoulders and drawing her away from Peter.
Peter ’ported himself to the Jerhattan telepad and waited. He hoped that Amariyah would stop crying.
She’s accessed this morning’s Teacher, Peter. Don’t worry about her
, Dorotea said.
I’m not worrying about her
.
Hmmm. Yes, of course not. ’Bye
.
Peter settled his one duffel bag behind the passenger seats and waited. He checked the personnel carrier. He glided over to the generators and inspected them. He waited. Shading his eyes, he saw a ground car on the perimeter road. He flicked out his mind. He had had no contact with this Ceara Scott so he doubted that he could ’path to see if she was in it. He did, to his surprise, feel anxiety, nervousness, fear, and keen anticipation. He waited more patiently.
When he identified her as the second person to emerge from the
crowded vehicle, he was agreeably surprised. She had the most glorious red hair, curling vigorously around her head. She had the almost translucent skin that often went with such coloring and her eyes, anxiously seeking his, were an amazing shade of blue. He stared.