The office was bigger and more comfortable than she had imagined it would be. It was obviously a t'Therian construction with Human conveniences laid over top. Fiber-optic bundles made veins on the white-plaster walls. The examining table was wide enough for two of her. The instrument stands were held to the side with C-clamps. Everything was scrupulously clean. In fact, the jobber in the corner was still humming, so it probably had just finished from the last patient.
“It wasn't neglect that ran this place down, it was death.” David climbed up on a stool between the examining table and the comm station. “The trained care-takers had all died. When we got here, we found family members, arms-sisters, students, an incredible array of people, trying to learn on the fly out of books or from medical instructors, what instructors there were left. It wasn't that no one was willing to try, it's that there was no one left who knew what to do.” His voice shook and he stopped. “As it is, you've seen what a mess it is out there. Bioverse isn't willing to let anything major wait to get us a proper facility going. They say they're all going to be relocated within the week, why waste time and resources on a building down here?” She saw a familiar gleam in his eye. “We're working on persuading them otherwise.”
“Lynn said you were having cultural problems?” asked Praeis.
“We can't separate the families,” he said. “When one sister is sick, they all come in and they all stay here. They keep constant hold on her, breathing her air, breaking what little sterility and isolation we've got …”
“Yes, I saw.”
“I thought we'd handle it the way we did in the colonies. Firm persuasion and explanation.” He shook his head. “But here …”
“Here the ties are even stronger than they are there, yes.” Praeis ran her hand over her belly guard. “What most Humans never understand is that our basic need, what keeps us going at the core, is not the survival of ourselves and our children. It is the survival of our sisters. We will kill or die to save a sister and her children. When a sister is sick or hurt …” She waved her ears. “It is hard for us to be detached. Have you tried prayer shifts?”
“What?” David's face wrinkled.
“Prayer shifts. Ask the family to designate one sister to stay to tend the patient, and send as many of the others as you can convince to their Ancestral shrine to call for protection and help.” Her face puckered. “Presence is vital, but in its place any useful activity will do. They, we, just need a direction, and you will see amazing cooperation. Those who are not petitioning their Ancestors, you can send on errands, or maybe use them as scavengers. There are a lot of abandoned buildings left in the cities. Who knows what's useful out there? You can ask them to go see. Or get them to lobby the Council offices for what you need—” All at once, an idea blossomed inside her. “No,” she said. “Send them straight to the Queens.”
“What?”
Neys and Silv can run a letter to the Queens saying the sisters should be admitted, they should hear about the hospital's shortages and inadequacies in style, along with any other shortages and inadequacies anybody can think of. Then the Queens can harangue the Council for not doing its job, get a reporting structure going at the bottom, get some largess out, fix this death trap, renew their link with the people, use it on the Council … It's the perfect chance to change minds. The Council won't be able to hold out if the rest of the Great Family turns against them!
“Hello?” said David. “I think I just lost you.”
“No, no.” Praeis shook her ears and shoulders. “I'm sorry. Yes, get some lobby parties arranged, about anything anybody wants done, and send them straight to the Queens. They'll be heard, I promise.”
David's eyes narrowed. “I have a feeling we've just made it onto an agenda.”
“Isn't that what you wanted?” asked Praeis innocently.
David's face broke into a delighted smile. “I knew you could help us.” He leaned forward. “Now, tell me what I can do to help you.”
Praeis told him. As she spoke, his expression rearranged itself into calm, professional lines.
“Would you get undressed, please?” he said, turning away to reach for a fresh pair of thin, outer gloves. “We'll see what's here.”
David's gloved hands were cool and careful as he palpated the swellings at Praeis's groin. His expression remained bland as he turned away from her to his comm station. He threw out a few new threads, but Praeis was too far away to read the data as it flowed back to him.
“Ad right, Praeis,” said David, stripping the outer gloves off his clean-suit gloves. “Why don't you get comfortable, and we can talk.”