Damia's Children Read online

  “G’wan,” said one, waving him urgently onward.

  HUMBLE APOLOGY FOR INTIMACY, Thian said and, taking a deep breath, put his arms firmly about the middle body of the ’Dini. And ’ported them both to the sick bay corridor outside the cubicle.

  They both staggered for balance as they landed in the midst of a group. Thian blamed himself for not checking on a clear corridor but no one was hurt and the ’Dini, seeing Mur in the tub, plowed forward to its patient. Dip, bowing nearly double, stepped aside, remembering to keep the breather unit in place as it did so.

  While the medical officer and his staff watched with fascination, the ’Dini made an examination, a blur of moving digits and prods and pokings of the mutely colored Mur who was weakly hiccuping in an irregular pattern.

  “Anything I can do?” the medical officer asked without taking his eyes from the big ’Dini. “Biggest one I’ve ever seen,” he added in a low tone to Thian.

  “Me, too,” Thian agreed, grabbing for whatever lightening he could find in this crisis.

  Another blur of motion and the ’Dini medic extracted instruments from the pack it had brought and then quickly shoved small objects in two orifices which Mur obediently opened.

  The big ’Dini sat back on its tail, crossing its forward appendages across its upper torso. Dip clicked softly and received an affirmative and, Thian was glad to hear, a reassuring clack.

  He inhaled and leaned against the door jamb, abruptly feeling the let-down of recent exertions.

  THIS ONE RESPONDS WELL, the ’Dini said, pulling itself to its two feet.

  WHAT OCCURRED TO MAKE MRG UNWELL? Thian asked, echoing Dip’s more quickly spoken query.

  NOT OFTEN BUT SOMETIMES SHOCK OF ADJUSTMENT TO NEW ENVIRONS. TOO DRY AND AIR IMPURE. CANNOT BE PREDICTED. THIS PARTICULAR COLOR PRONE TO SUCH REACTIONS. DPL ADJUSTED AS REQUIRED OR WOULD HAVE REACTED ALSO. MEDICATION WILL PREVENT RECURRENCE. SPEEDY HUMAN REACTIONS PREVENTED TRAGEDY. GRATITUDE FROM ALL. IT IS GOOD HUMAN THN IS AHEAD WITH FLEET.

  “Will the ’Dini be all right?” the medic asked.

  Weak with relief, Thian nodded. “Seems Mur had environmental adjustment shock.”

  “Oh?”

  Thian wondered how he was going to avoid criticizing the ship’s air and water. “Dehydration,” he said hurriedly. “From coming so far in a capsule. It’ll be fine once the medication takes effect. You can see how much better its color is already.”

  “Ah, yes, it is. Ah, would you thank the medic for us . . . extend professional courtesies . . .”

  HOW IS LARGE ONE CALLED, Thian said, assuming the most courteous posture. THE HUMAN MEDICAL PERSON WISHES TO GIVE THANKS.

  THANKS HAVE BEEN PROVIDED BY RAPID CARE AND OBVIOUS CONCERN. THIS ONE CALLED SBLPK. Sbl bowed politely toward the ship’s doctor who quickly bobbed back.

  Thian took a deep breath and concentrated hard on pronouncing the ’Dini’s name as correctly as he could. A name that long only reinforced the importance of this ’Dini personage.

  “He thanks you, Dr. . . .”

  “Exeter,” the medic supplied.

  “For rapid care and obvious concern,” Thian said with a weak grin. “His name is Sblpk.” Thian managed it creditably and saw Dip flick a digit in approval.

  “Exeter,” the medic said, holding out his hand to the ’Dini.

  When Sbl took it without hesitation, Thian’s relief was compounded. This ’Dini had been among Humans long enough to be comfortable with that convention. The fleet might not know how lucky it was to have such a personage as ’Dini medical officer.

  EXTR, the ’Dini replied after pumping the doctor’s hand three times.

  Exeter laughed and, when his expression suggested that he wasn’t sure if laughter would be understood, Thian reassured him.

  “Extr, Mrdini type name,” Sbl said in reasonably understandable Basic.

  Those listening in—and sick bay seemed well populated at the moment—murmured in surprise. Thian, who had been holding himself tightly closed, opened up briefly, to sample reactions. There was pleased surprise and relief. There was also some disbelief and incredulity about taking care of ’Dini beasts—and the term had derogatory undertones to Thian’s sensitivities—in a human facility. Thian glanced about, trying to see which of the many people in the corridors were anti-’Dini but without either using a broader empathy range or having a particular target, he could not isolate the antagonists in the group.

  His parents had obliquely warned him that not all Humans wanted to be partnered with Mrdini: that Thian might find unexpected bias against him because of his close association with ’Dinis. He just hadn’t expected to come face to face with it quite so abruptly. Then Sbl touched his arm lightly.

  WITH MRDINI COMING AND GOING IT IS WELL FOR EXTR TO KNOW NECESSARY REMEDY, Sbl said to Thian. Taking a writing implement from its belt, it swiftly sketched some letters on a pad which it then handed to Exeter.

  “These are the remedies to be used if another ’Dini has similar symptoms, Dr. Exeter.”

  The man was staring at the pad. “Why, these are chemical formulae.” His jaw dropped.

  “There’s been a lot of exchange on the scientific levels, Doctor, where it’s easier to find means of expressing constants. Sbl here has probably had some intensive sessions on medical practices,” Thian said with just a little pride in his friends.

  “Well, I’m pleased to have this. Tell him?”

  Thian did so and there was another exchange of warm bows and nods.

  Just then the remainder of the ’Dini medical team arrived with their equipment.

  MRG WILL NEED SPECIAL ATTENTION FOR THIRTEEN HUMAN HOURS, Sbl told him. ITS SYSTEM MUST BE FLUSHED OF THE POLLUTANTS AND THOROUGHLY CLEANSED AND ANTIDOTES ADMINISTERED REGULARLY TO PREVENT RECURRENCE. DPL MAY REMAIN FOR COMFORT. NO MORE EQUIPMENT WILL BE NEEDED. EXTR MAY WATCH BUT NO OTHER HUMANS ARE NEEDED. THIS ONE MUST RETURN TO KLTL (which Thian recognized as the name of the ’Dini vessel), IF THAT CAN BE ARRANGED.

  IMMEDIATELY, Thian replied.

  WITHOUT SO MUCH HASTE, Sbl added, twitching its head in the manner Thian recognized as signalizing good humor.

  WITH GRACE AND DECORUM THIS TIME, Thian said, twitching his head in what he hoped wasn’t a breach of etiquette with so prestigious a personage as Sbl.

  “What’s that all about?” Exeter asked, his eyes darting from one to another.

  Thian explained what treatment Mur would be getting and that Sbl preferred only the doctor of the Human staff attend the patient. Then, because he felt it might do some listeners good, added Sbl’s request for a less dramatic return to the shuttle bay.

  Exeter chuckled, nodding his head. “Can’t say as I blame him. You don’t always pop in and out of places, do you, Prime?”

  “Only in great emergencies, I assure you,” Thian said. “And I hope the captain is as good a sport about it as you’ve been.”

  Exeter raised his eyebrows, his dark eyes twinkling. “Oh, our captain’ll doubtless have a few choice words to say but he’d be a lot less pleased if this had turned out fatal.” His expression was fleetingly more dour than it had been during the worst of the emergency. “Don’t worry, lad. You acted with the speed required to save a life. Can’t fault that. Now, I am permitted to observe the treatment?”

  “That’s the general idea. I’ll get back in touch with you at . . .” and Thian checked the clock, “0300 when it will be completed. Or before if you need me for something.” Then he turned to the nursing ’Dinis. THIS SMALL ONE NAMED THN. TELL EXTR NAME AND WILL CONTACT FOR QUESTIONS/PROBLEMS/NEEDS.

  GRATEFUL. COMPLY, said the larger of the two nursing ’Dinis without looking up from the apparatus it was setting up in Mur’s bath tank.

  GO. ALL PROCEEDS WELL NOW, Dip added, fingering relief/approval/affection signs with its left appendage. GO MORE SLOWLY. AFFIRMATIVE?

  Thian laughed, resting his fingers briefly on the slope from Dip’s head to body before he bowed again to Sbl, and gestured toward the corridor
.

  The two medics bowed once more to each other.

  “Ah, Dr. Exeter, can I have directions back to the shuttle bay?” Thian asked as he realized he didn’t know the pedestrian route.

  “Sally, you take ’em, will you?”

  A girl with short red hair stepped up and saluted. “This way, sirs.” And with a smart about face, she led them down the passageway, a trip that gave Thian far more time to worry about how to mend public relations than he needed.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  THIAN saw Sbl courteously into the capsule when the corpswoman delivered them to the shuttle bay.

  GOOD DREAMS LARGE SBLPK, Thian said in polite farewell.

  DREAMS WILL BE GENTLE was the astonishingly courteous rejoinder.

  Even during the brief exchange, Thian sensed, with no great extension of empathy, that the crew were waiting to see what this civilian—the tone in which that title was couched was scathingly critical—would do next. He wondered how his father would have handled such a situation. Except that Afra would never get himself into such a situation. There was a lot, Thian reluctantly admitted, to be said for the Capellan method of doing things. At that, he didn’t wish to admit—by contacting his parents for guidance—that he’d come a cropper within minutes of arriving on the Vadim. Fortunately he could also recall some of his father’s tales about episodes of Damia’s more spontaneous behavior. Anyway, he could only take things as they came. The important aspect was that Mur would recover.

  Closing the lid on Sbl’s transport, Thian turned to the expectant crew with a rueful expression on his face.

  “Has anyone else ever broken as many navy regulations as I have in the past hour?” He kept his voice humorously self-deprecating, then went on with, “But I do want to thank you for your help and cooperation because my friend would be dead without it.” He felt a slight lessening of the tension. “There isn’t an engineer crewman among you, is there?”

  “Why?” and a man in engineering green leaned forward on the upper level railing. His manner was more curious than critical and Thian knew he’d adopted the right tack.

  He grimaced. “Because, if I could access the generator power from this level, I’d frankly rather not have to beard the captain on his own bridge right now if I don’t have to. But the ’Dini’s an important personage and should be sent right back to its own ship.”

  “Up here! You can access from the auxiliary station here,” the lieutenant said, “. . . sir.”

  Relieved to hear that “sir,” Thian took the companionway steps, two at a time, noting an odd expression on the ensign’s face as he reached the top.

  “This panel?” he asked and the lieutenant nodded, half closing his eyes as he did so. There was some quality about the man’s faint grin that gave Thian pause: he was likely one of those who resented Talent on the general principle that they didn’t have any. This was the auxiliary access to engineering, but beside it was the clearly marked communit. He might have breached protocol on his arrival, but he didn’t intend to continue now the immediate emergency had passed. He depressed the open channel toggle. “Commander Tikele,” he said in as firm but respectful tone as he could muster. And felt a shaft of irritation.

  “Prime Thian, back again?”

  “Sir, permission to access the generators to return Medic Sblpk to its ship.”

  “Ssssbil . . . what?”

  Thian repeated the consonants as glibly as if he hadn’t any trouble manipulating his tongue through them. “The medic has diagnosed and provided treatment for the ill member of my group. It wishes to return.”

  “That was quick. The generators are yours, Prime, work away.”

  Thian caught the pulse of the engines, pressed against them and lightly “lifted” Sbl’s capsule back to its own ship, laying it so gently down that he hoped Sbl would not realize that it had been teleported. He’d had to use more power for the return, which annoyed him, but who else would know?

  “Thank you, Commander,” he said.

  “Ah, Prime Lyon?” Tikele began. “Ah, the captain wishes to see you in his ready room. And, ah, Mr. Sedallia, please assign a guide to the Prime?”

  “Aye, sir.” And the look the lieutenant then turned on Thian was so neutral it bordered suppressed hostility.

  “I really don’t just ’port about places, lieutenant.”

  “Couldn’t prove it by me. . . . sir,” and Thian caught just a hint of resentment before Sedallia grinned. “Greene, escort Prime Lyon to the captain’s ready room.”

  Halfway there, Thian found the uninhibited thoughts of the seaman unbearably depressing. Not only did Greene treasure the thought that this civilian (an epithet by tone) was going to get reamed by the captain, which he justly deserved in Greene’s opinion, but it was just as well that a weasel lover wasn’t going to be long aboard the Vadim. Bad enough to have the critters in the squadron and have to share possible glory with ’em, but to have ’em on board, all the time, with their smell and that queer mid-head eye cocked at you all the time, why it was enough to turn a man’s stomach! Greene sure wished that he could be the proverbial insect on the wall of the captain’s ready room. Ten to one, the guy’d get sent back in disgrace and the ship’d just have to make do with what it had on board, after all. Some inconveniences were just not worth the fuel it took to correct ’em. This cloudhead was really in for it. Greene wished now that he’d laid a stake on how long this Prime would last on board the Vadim.

  Greene wheeled smartly at the door to the captain’s ready room and rapped twice.

  Disregarding Talent protocol, too (in for a half-credit, in for it all), Thian reached out to the captain now sitting behind his desk, both hands flat on its surface, awaiting the interview. He might as well know how to frame his responses. Thian caught a brief echo of another mind before he was thwarted by the captain’s natural shield, now firmly in place in anticipation of an interview with a Prime Talent. Withdrawing instantly, for fear the man might be aware of the attempt, Thian gave a convulsive shudder. Fortunately, Greene was busy opening the door and didn’t see it.

  There was that about the captain’s posture that told Thian that Ashiant was totally relaxed. Was he, too, looking forward to the dressing down he was going to give this . . . this civilian?

  “That’s all, thank you, Greene,” the captain said and nodded for the seaman to retire. “Return to duty.”

  The man silently swore as he closed the door behind him.

  “Commander Exeter tells me your . . . ah, companion will survive this . . . ah allergic reaction,” the captain began with what Thian decided was a cunningly bland tone.

  He’ll come down on me like a big daddy once he’s softened me up, Thian thought and tried to relax, matching the captain’s urbane air. He could be no worse than Grandmother in her Tower mode. Could he?

  “They did the courtesy of sending a very senior medical officer, Captain Ashiant,” Thian said, moving forward to take the seat the captain indicated. Well, it won’t be right now if he’s letting me sit.

  “So Exeter said, and left chemical formulae for future reference. Good idea, that. Fleet Command keeps sending us bursts of information but it’s not always what we need, or what we can profitably use. I dare say you’d be able to explain it.”

  “My pleasure, I assure you,” Thian said, steeling himself against the inevitable storm.

  “You’d have no objections to sharing explanations?”

  “Me? No, why would I, sir? The ’Dinis are open in their admiration of Human achievements, and I think they’ve a few we could profit from.”

  “Do you now?”

  Thian rebuked himself for being so cocksure but nervousness, the knowledge that he’d already bungled his first moments aboard, made him babble so inanely. If only he knew whether the captain was pro- or anti-Talent. Or ’Dini.

  “Such as?”

  Well, go for broke, Thi boy, he told himself. “Such as their air purification systems.”

  �
��Really?” And the captain’s heavily marked eyebrows rose.

  Just then Thian felt something soft brush his hand. As unexpected as it was, the touch was so familiar that he automatically put his hand down to caress the animal that had somehow got in the captain’s ready room.

  “Hello there,” Thian said in another almost automatic response to the presence of a known and friendly entity. Then he blinked in utter astonishment. “You’ve got a barque-cat!” he exclaimed in surprise and awe, his hand poised to complete a stroke.

  The cat raised her front paws off the ground, imperiously butting her head at his hand to continue the caress which he hastily completed. She was a magnificently marked tri-color with a white muzzle, white socks all round, and a tiny puff of white on the tip of her tail. She was also very pregnant and nearly overbalanced. He put a deft hand under her barrel to support her and felt a rumbling purr vibrating through her gravid body.

  “What’s her lineage, captain? She’s gorgeous. I’ve only seen one other tri-color and little Zsa Zsa isn’t a patch on this one.”

  “Princess Zsa Zsa of the Trebizond?” Ashiant asked, watching as the cat continued to push herself against Thian’s leg and hand.

  “That’s the one. She never threw any tri-colors that I heard about.”

  “No, she hasn’t but not for want of the Treb’s crew trying,” the captain said with a snort. “They even asked for the service of our tom. They got marmalades and even a tabby but no tri-colors, or females for that matter.”

  “Who is your beauty? Whoops, easy there, missus,” Thian said when the cat, despite her bulkiness, leaped into his lap and began circling to settle.

  “I’ve never seen Tab do that before,” and the captain sounded slightly offended.

  That’s all I needed, Thian thought, closing his eyes briefly, not only against the sudden kneading of Tab’s claws in his leg but also because no crew liked to see their barque-cat display affection to, or even interest in, newcomers.

  “I’m sorry about this, too, sir,” Thian said, lifting his hands up and down, wanting to pet her because one was always polite to a barque-cat but not wanting to further offend the captain of her ship.