Another itch, this one deep and nagging in Ca’aed’s digestive veins. A small cramp formed around the itch.
Worry stroked Ca’aed’s mind. What caretakers were in that area? Ca’aed felt and Ca’aed looked.
“Indenture T’elen,” said Ca’aed. “A review of the digestive veins near you. There is a break in flow.”
T’elen was responsive and competent. She bore her indenture well. Ca’aed tried to take care of its indentures, make their servitude easy, but some could not flow with their service. It understood, but it needed indentured and free people to live, as the people needed their city. All had to work together. Life served life.
Ca’aed watched T’elen as she located the swelling in the vein. T’elen smelled it carefully, touched it gently, checked with the interior antibodies, injected an anti-inflammatory, which eased the cramp but not the itch, and removed some cells and antibodies from the needle into a microcosm of her own design. Ca’aed knew T’elen hoped to make some promises based on the new microcosms to shorten her indenture and felt strangely pleased that its discomfort might help prove their worth.
A sharp spark of pain cut through Ca’aed’s primary thoughts. The city isolated the spot. One of the sensor roots that tasted and tested the canopy to find the best harvest points. A blister swelled painfully on the outer skin, squeezing the pores closed and pinching the delicate papillae.
Worry pressed harder against Ca’aed’s consciousness. It pulled out from several conversations with citizens and speakers and put as much of the traffic on its own behavior as it could. Ca’aed withdrew its thoughts into its own body that stretched across miles of wind and tried to understand what was happening.
Muscles contracted smoothly, hearts circulated the gases and chemicals, timed the electrical pulses, intestines filtered wastes, its own and its peoples, veins guided potentiated and unpotentiated neurochemical flows, and pores regulated diffusion. All good, all smooth, all as it should be, except there, and there and there….
Ca’aed looked out onto the body of Gaith behind its quarantine blankets, and worry blossomed into fear.
Ca’aed found its chief engineer in the refresher of his private home with D’cle, who was one of Ca’aed’s adopted citizens and the chief’s companion-wife.
Another cramp, this one along a muscle for one of the upper southwest stabilizers. The muscle contracted involuntarily and the stabilizer wavered.
“Engineer T’gen,” said Ca’aed through his headset. “Alert. I am ill. I repeat, I am…”
Pain! It lanced up the sensor roots, straight into Ca’aed’s primary cortex. Blisters, dozens of them, popping out of the skin like a burning fungus. Pain, wrongness, illness, pain…
The pain ebbed for a moment, and Ca’aed was aware that T’gen was calling all the engineers and indentures via their headsets. Ca’aed mustered its resources and tracked them down, circulating the call with its own voices. It routed images of the affected areas to the research houses and tracked the response. T’gen flew fast into the deep crevices and chambers near the center of Ca’aed’s body, where the main antibody generators lay. The required varieties were not getting released; new growth might have to be facilitated.
Below, indentureds and engineers numbed the pained roots and began treating the blisters with steroid compounds. Relief blew through Ca’aed and opened its mind up again. It was able to alert the surrounding traffic that there would be interruptions, that all should return to the home ports. It found the district speakers, let them know what was happening and that it was all being attended to, but alerted them to keep in contact with the city and each other. Ca’aed set some of its voices in reserve, just for the speakers.
Now, inventory the position and health of the sails and stabilizers. Along with waste disposal, those were key to comfort of the Kan Ca’aed. They were near a living highland cluster, and pockets of warm air would cause unpredictable currents necessitating thousands of small adjustments, and everything had to be in health.
Ca’aed felt the first patch of gray rot blossom on its skin, and it took all the strength of centuries for the city not to scream.
Vee yawned hugely as she stepped, dried and dressed, out of the shower cubicle. A mug of opaque black tea appeared in front of her. The mug was attached to a hand, which had an arm, on the end of which was Josh.
“My hero,” she said fervently. Grasping the mug in both hands she took a huge gulp, almost scalding her tongue. “Ahhh,” she sighed blissfully. “Is she out there?”