Playing God(128)

“Lynn!”

Lynn turned. The next thing she knew, she was enveloped by David's arms. Unable to speak, she held on to him, drinking in his warmth and his presence.

Oh, God, you're here, you're all right! She knew the same thoughts rang through his mind.

At last, David pulled away. “What happened?” His careful fingers touched her bandaged face.

Lynn rested her forehead against his shoulder. “A lot,” she confessed. “I'm going to need a new cheek, and a new camera.”

He wrapped his arms around her again. “We'll take care of you.”

It took a moment, but the intensity of seeing each other began to fade. Lynn remembered they were in public and realized that even by their lax standards this was a massive display, and noticed that the entire shuttle crew was flowing around them. The same thoughts must have reached David, because he did not resist as she pulled back to a more polite distance. It was then Lynn saw Trace and R.J. standing nearby. Not even perpetually polite Trace pretended to ignore the scene.

“Welcome back,” said R.J. blandly. “We've missed you. You would not believe the admin backup we've got.”

“I'm sure,” replied Lynn, matching his dry tone. Tired as she was, hurt as she was, she could not miss the tension singing between the two of them. They were both standing stiffly, as if every fiber in them had been tightened to the breaking point. “What's going on?”

“In a half hour, the seniors and veeps are having a meeting,” Trace said. “There's going to be a vote on a pullout. Everyone's gone out of their minds.” The set of Trace's jaw showed how little she thought of that. “They want you there. C16.”

“Good,” said Lynn, meaning it. “I want to be there.”

“Lynn,” David said softly. “Don't make me say ‘You are not going anywhere until I've looked at you.’ ”

She shook her head, briefly, because the motion made things hurt worse. “Never. But I need to be at that meeting.”

“Then we'll get you there.” David took Lynn's left arm and walked her down the familiar summer-lit corridors, with their gardens and statues, until they reached the white, sterile infirmary. The med-techs on duty took one look at her and started forward, but David waved them back.

Lynn hopped up on the table. David extended a privacy screen and whistled for the instrument jobber. With careful fingers he peeled away layers of bandage and flaking tempskin. His face dropped immediately into professional mode. “Talk to me, Lynn. Tell me what happened.” His voice shook gently, although his hands remained perfectly steady.

She told him. He layered her wounds with anesthetics, antifungals, and vat grown T cells. He covered it all over with patches to keep her skin from growing until they could take care of the muscle damage. The only time they both faltered was when he had to clean and clear her eye socket He laid another patch over the empty hollow. Finally, he strapped support braces around her knee and ankle.

Just call me Dr. Ragdoll.

When he was finished, he pulled a clean cotton kaftan out of one of the jobbers.

She slipped it over her shoulders. “I'm sorry, David, I have to go. We'll talk after the meeting.”

“I almost killed them all.”

Lynn said nothing. David turned around. His bands shook visibly.

They had you. I didn't know if you were dead or alive. They were taking over the ship. I could have let loose the plague samples we had. I was going to. I wanted to.”

“David.” He leaned close, and she wrapped her arms around him. “It's going to be all right. There is a way out of this.”

He pulled back just a little. “Lynn, what are you going to do?”

“What you were going to do aboard the Ur, David. Just what I have to.” She kissed him gently, and, as fast as she was able, limped out of the infirmary.

Without her implant to help her remember her route, Lynn had to ask tine Base AI for directions three times before she found her way to conference room C16. As she paused in the threshold, the door opened to let her in.

The room was jammed. All the chairs around the conference table were filled with seniors and uppers, except for one next to Veep Brador that Lynn really hoped was for her. Veep Brador, unshaven and wide-eyed, sat at the table's head. Yet more people stood around the walls, balancing portables on their hands, or murmuring to their implants.

Everyone watched her as she threaded her way between people and chairs to the seat next to Brador.

“I am glad you could join us, Dr. Nussbaumer,” said Brador evenly.

So am I, believe me. “Thank you, Vice President Brador.”

Brador turned to the entire assembly. Lynn recognized about two dozen of the faces there. The rest were strangers. Their names had probably been stored in her implant.