"Yes," Heris said. "I'd like to clear the Benignity with one jumppossible?"
"Yeshere" He read off a string of numbers that Heris passed to Oblo. When she read them back, he said, "Fine. NowI am authorized to say that the situation we both know about is extremely unstable. The Council would like to speak with Lady Cecelia at her earliest convenience; Lord Thornbuckle has filed a Question with the Grand Table; the Crown asks if you can transport a certain Mr. Smith and his friend back home."
"Medical intervention must come first," Heris said, her mind beginning to buzz with the implications of Livadhi's report.
"Of course. I understand. I would urge extreme caution, and suggest that we rendezvous for your return so that we can provide an escort. You might also consider rearming"
"Thank you," Heris said. "Give me a contact coordinate." Another string of numbers followed. Then Livadhi broke contact. Minute by minute the yacht edged closer to safety. Heris kept expecting something else to go wronganother Compassionate Hand ship appearing in their path, another crisis aboardbut nothing interrupted them, and at last Oblo was able to put them back into jump mode, into the undefined and chaotic existence that lay between the times and spaces they knew.
Livadhi's trauma teams had turned two of the guest suites into sickbays. In one, Sirkin lay attached to more tubes and wires than she had arms and legs. Beside her, on a stretcher, Lady Cecelia lay on her side holding Sirkin's hand. Across that room, two of the less critically wounded were dozing, their bandages making humps and lumps under the bedclothes.
"Lady Cecelia," Heris said. Her employer looked only slightly better than Sirkin, pale and exhausted.
"I . . . told . . . you . . ." Her own voice, with its cracked and uneven tone, was just understandable.
"You did, and you were right. I'm very sorry. I should have listened to you."
"If . . . I . . . could . . . talk . . . dammit . . ."
"I knowyou have so much to sayand your people died, too. Must be much worse for you"
"Thought . . . we . . . all . . . die . . ."
"So did I, for a while there. Let me tell you what happened." Heris outlined the events, and then waited for Cecelia's response.
"Damn . . . lucky . . ."
"It's not over," Heris said. "We have to get you all to Guerni; we have to get you home safely, and survive whatever's going on. And find out who's doing it, and why."
"Lorenza . . . Tourinos," Cecelia said. "Remember . . ."
"I will. But you're going to be able to give your own testimony."
The Guerni Republic's customs were as quick and capable with incoming medical emergencies as with casual trade. Heris requested the fastest possible incoming lane; customs sent an escort alongside to do a close-up scan.
"You've been here before; your references are good; you're cleared with the usual warnings," the escort officer said.
"Thanks. What about a medical shuttle from the Station?"
"We'll arrange it. Actually, trauma cases may not need to go downside; we have major medical available on all stations. We normally handle everything onstation unless that facility is fullsaves transport stress and time."
Heris was impressed all over again. It made sense, but in Familias space, most stations transferred serious trauma down to the planet. She had heard it explained as being more cost-effective, but the Guernesi were supposed to be the galaxy experts on cost-effectiveness.
When they arrived at the Station, medical teams awaited them dockside, and the casualties were transferred quickly to the Station trauma center. Cecelia would be shuttled down to the neuromedical center later; she had agreed to have Meharry and Ginese escort her there. Heris would stay up at the Station until Sirkin was out of danger. As soon as she had arranged a private shuttle for Cecelia, her surviving attendants, and her bodyguards, Heris went to the Station hospital.
"Just barely in time," she was told. "That artificial blood substitute saved her, but you really pushed its limitsshould have been using exterior gas exchange as well . . . I'm surprised your doctors didn't."
Heris decided not to explain the limits of transferring medical equipment between ships in deep space while in hostile territory. "When they've finished packing up on our ship, maybe they'll talk to you about it," she said. After all, Livadhi's medical teams had already said they wanted to explore the medical riches of the system.
"And we have a newer substitute with a better performance you might want to consider stockinga license to manufacture would be available through our medical technology exports office"
Typical. To the Guernesi, every disaster had the seeds of profit in it. "When can I see our casualties?" she asked. "Especially Brigdis Sirkin . . ."
"The two worst, not for at least two days. They'll have two long sessions in regen, but they need transfusions first. The other three will be out of the regen tanks in another six hours, so any time after that"
Heris went back to the yacht, and found that Livadhi's teams had scoured the areas they'd been using; these now smelled like any sickbay. But one of them stopped her in the midst of her thanks.
"What's this, Captain?" The woman held up an unmistakable cockroach egg case. Heris had a sudden vision of being detained forever on a charge of importing illegal biologicals.
"An egg case," Heris said, trying to sound unconcerned. Inspiration hit. "We had to evacuate Lady Cecelia from Rotterdam in haste; we had no time for proper disinfection procedures. And she was living at a training stable."
"Ah. I presume you disinfected the ship?"
"Oh, yes. I can't be sure we got them all, but we'll do it again. It was on my schedule, but then we came out of jump in the wrong place"
"Ohof course." The woman's accusing expression relaxed. "I'd forgotten about Lady Cecelia's luggage . . . and from a stable yard . . . it's just that contamination from vermin is a serious problem."
You don't know the half of it, Heris thought. At least they'd found an egg case, and not one of the albino cockroaches. She wasn't about to tell this starchy person about the cockroach colonies down in 'ponics.
"They were telling me in the hospital here that they have a newer, more efficient oxygen-exchange fluid for blood replacement," she said. Sure enough, that took the woman's attention off cockroach egg cases.
"Really! Expensive?"
"They said something about a license to manufactureif you found something the Fleet wanted to use, it might make your time here worthwhile."
"Certainlythanks. I'll just get the team together"
Sirkin was asleep, curled on her side like a child, when Heris arrived. She looked perfectly healthy, with color in her cheeks again, and no obvious bandages. Heris had made herself visit Cecelia's attendant first, though she didn't know the man at all . . . now she sat beside the bed and waited for Sirkin to wake. Once an attendant peeked in, jotted down some numbers off the monitor above the bed, smiled at Heris, and went back out. Heris dozed off, waking when Sirkin stirred.
"Captain . . ." Her voice was drowsy.
"You're almost recovered, they tell me," Heris said. "I'm sorryall of us are. We should have trusted you."
"Idon't know. I didn't trust myself. And I don't know how she couldshe had been on your ship"
"Don't worry about her. Let's talk about you. You know Lady Cecelia stood by you all along?"
"Yesshe came to my cabin and said she knew it wasn't my fault."
"She'd like you to stay with us, Brig, though no one will blame you if you don't. We all want you to."
"You're sure?"
"Of course. I can make stupid mistakes, but I can also admit them. It wasn't your fault; you did good work and someone else messed it up. You'll do good work again. It's more a matter of whether you trust usif you're sure of us."
"I want to," Sirkin said. "I like you." That almost childlike admission struck Heris to the core. She could have cried. "You were all so . . . so good when Amalie died. Even Lord Thornbuckle's daughter . . ."
"Even? Brun's a r
emarkable young woman, if she did happen to be born rich. She liked you; I daresay if she'd been aboard she'd have chewed my ears about you, and made a dent in my suspicions."
"I really like her . . ." That was said so softly Heris barely heard it, and Sirkin flushed. Heris mentally rolled her eyes. Youngsters. Meharry had told her privately that Brigdis and Brun were likely to go overboard. Clearly Sirkin had. But they'd have to work that out; she never interfered in her crew members' romantic entanglements unless it endangered the ship. This wouldn't . . . in fact . . .
"Not surprising," she said dryly. "Considering" Considering what, she didn't say. "One of us will be by every shift, until you're out of here. You're under guard, because we still don't know how much trouble we face, but you can call the ship any time you're concerned. I've got to go down and see how Lady Cecelia's coming along."
"Thank you," Sirkin said. Completely awake now, she had begun to regain that sparkle she'd had at first. Resilience, thought Heris, and wondered again if she would be able to afford rejuvenation someday. And what her employer would think about it.
Chapter Twenty-two
Cecelia had had reports sent up to Herisencouraging reports, on the whole. Heris didn't entirely understand the medical terminologyshe skipped whole paragraphs of multisyllabic gibberish and tried to figure out the "prognosis" sections. Here she hoped the percentages referred to functions recovered, and not permanently lost87% this, and 79% that, and 93% the other thing. Livadhi's medical teams might have helped interpret, except that they were spending all their time in the station hospital. She would do better, she decided, to go down and find out in person.
The receptionist recognized her now, and gave her Cecelia's room number. When she came out of the lift on that floor, Meharry was stretched out in the visitors' lounge.
"How is she?"
"Better you should see her," Meharry said gruffly. "We're taking alternate shifts now; Arkady's in the visitors' hostel."
"Sirkin's doing well," Heris said, anticipating Meharry's question. "She's staying with us."
"She's a sweet kid," Meharry said. "Almost too sweet for her own good. I think that's what made me so madI liked her so much, and she was so good, and thenyou know, if Skoterin had been anything but a bland nothing, I'd have figured it out."
"So we look out for bland nothings," Heris said. "See you after I talk to Lady Cecelia."
"You'll be surprised," Meharry said. It was an odd tone of voice, not at all encouraging, and Heris worried all the way down the corridor. The bright floral prints and soft carpet did nothing to reassure her.
She found the number and knocked lightly.
"Come in." It didn't sound like Cecelia; perhaps a nurse was with her. Even more worried, Heris pushed the door open.
The large room opened onto an atrium filled with flowering plants and ferns. Across an expanse of apricot carpet, a woman in a green silk robe stood by a table set for a meal.
The woman couldn't be Cecelia, Heris realized after a startled glance. She was only in her forties, and although she was tall and lean, she had not a single strand of gray in her red hair. It must be the wrong room. Heris turned to look at the room number, and the woman chuckled. Heris felt that chuckle as a blow to the heart.
"It isbut how?"
"Do come in and shut the door. That's better." Cecelia gestured to the chairs by the table. "Heresit down; you look as if you'd seen a ghost."
"II'm not sure"
"Vanity has its uses, you know." Cecelia sat down herself, and grinned at Heris. "I decided to take advantage of it."
"But youyou said you'd never go through rejuv."
"If you'd asked me, I'd have said I'd never be poisoned by that wretched Lorenza. Here, have a cup of broth. They have quite good food here."
Heris opened her mouth to say she wasn't hungry, and realized she was. And her employer was looking at her with a wicked gleam in her eyes. She sipped the broth.
"It was vanity that saved me, actually," Cecelia said. "And now I'll have to confess it, and you'll laugh at me"
"No, I won't. I'm too glad to have you aliveand by the way, thanks for saving us from that mess on the ship."
"I only wish I'd done a better job of it. Butlet me tell you. You remember how smug I was about taking no medicines and refusing rejuv?"
"Yes," Heris said cautiously.
"Well, I was lying. To everyone and to myself. There was this . . . this preparation. Herbal stuff. Lots of women used it, and none of us considered it medicinal exactly. Or cosmetic, exactly. I thought of it as a kind of tonic . . . of course I knew my skin was smoother, and I felt better, but I didn't consider what it really was."
A pause followed; since a comment seemed to be required, Heris said "And it was . . . ?"
Cecelia laughed. "I was so arrogant about drugs, it never occurred to me that many of them come from herbsplants. That I was taking quite a solid dose of bioactive chemicals that functioned in some ways like the rejuvenation chemicals." She shook her head. "So there I was, smugly certain that I wasn't like those othersthe ones I despisedand in fact I was. I must have knownI didn't tell anyone I took it, not even my maid, and certainly not anyone medical. My doctor just thought I had naturally good genes. Which I do, but not that good." She paused and drank a few swallows of broth herself.
"So when Lorenza poisoned me, she used a dose based on my supposed drug-free biochemistry. It worked, but the damage was not as complete. It required more maintenance drug than expected, which meant that when I came off the maintenance drugs, I could recover with therapy . . . and it also meant that a complete rejuvenation treatment would reverse all the damage."
"And so you thought if vanity had saved you so far, you'd go the whole way?"
"That, and the fact that nothing but rejuv would give me natural eyesight again. That visual prosthesis is good enough for walking around without bumping into things, but it doesn't begin to substitute for real sight." Cecelia looked out at the atrium. "The colors . . . the textures . . . oh, Heris, I thought I would go mad, locked away in that darkness, motionless, helpless."
Heris reached to touch her hand. "CeceliamiladyI don't know how you did it, but it took incredible courage."
Cecelia gave a harsh laugh, almost a croak. "Nonot courage. Pigheaded stubbornness. I simply would not give up. And the advantage of being over eighty when something like that happens is that you have a lot of experience to remember. Not enoughit's never enoughbut a lot."
"Do you think this personLorenzaintended to kill you?"
"Oh, no. She intended exactly what happened. She used to come visit, you know, and sit by my bed and whisper into my ear. 'I did it,' she would say. She never gave her name, and at that time I couldn't figure out who it was . . . but it told me that someone had done it, and thatthat helped. It gave me a target. I didn't rememberthe drug I was given was supposed to knock out short-term memory for the eventuntil one day after a long ride in therapy. I was suddenly there, where it happened, in Berenice's drawing room, with Lorenza handing me a glass of fruit juice." Cecelia stared at the ferns and flowers a long moment before going on. "She said that once, too: You'll never ride again, Cecelia. You'll never feel the wind in your face, never smell the flowers."
Heris shivered in spite of herself. "She must be a terrible woman."
"She's the main reason I refused rejuvenation so long. We knew each other as children . . . and she began to have rejuv early, and often. She was obsessed with her appearanceand I admit, she's a beauty, and always was. But the last time I saw her . . . that smooth young skin and glossy hair, and those ancient, evil eyes . . . I didn't want to become that sort of person."
"You couldn't," Heris said.
Cecelia smiled at her. "Heris, I love your loyalty, but one thing I have learned in my long eventful life is that anyone can change into anything. It takes only carelessness. My mistake was in confusing surface behaviors with the reasons behind them. It wasn't rejuv that made Lorenza what she iswhat she is propelled he
r to that many rejuv procedures."
"Still, you would never"
"I hope not. Certainly nothing that cruel. But if you put Lorenza and me in the same room? I could kill her. You know I can kill."
Remembering Cecelia as she had been on Sirialis, when she shot the man who would have killed them both, Heris nodded. "For cause, you could. Maybe even in vengeance. But you would not ever torment someone as she tormented youthat I'm sure of."
"Good. So far I feel no temptation that way, though I do have a strong urge to pull her blonde hair out by the roots."
Heris had to laugh then. "Sowhen do we do just that?"
"I have one more round of neurological testing, and we want to be sure Sirkin's fully recovered . . ."
"She's younger than both of us, and recovers faster even without rejuv"
"Good, then. Let's go back and . . . er . . . clean house, shall we?"
Heris said, "There is the problem of the prince and his clone, or the clones and no prince. I accepted a mission from the king, as I explained to you"
Cecelia scowled. "The medical reports haven't straightened anything out?"
"Not really. All the tissue samples are identical. The clones believethey told methat they carry markers somewhere. But if these doctors can't find them, who can? As for the mental limitations, both these clones perform at normal levels on tests. Not as high as you'd expect from a Registered Embryo, but not as low as you'd expect from the prince, judging by what we saw on the way back from Sirialis."
"What do the clones say now? Have you talked to them since you got back?"
"Nohave you?"
"Once, yes. Heris, I believe in my heart that the young man with usGerald A., as you called himwas the real prince. Their prime. I can't give you any reason that would make sense except an old woman's intuition. But remember how he and Ronnie both fell on that gas grenade?"