Partnership by Anne McCaffrey, Margaret Ball Page B
Authors: Anne McCaffrey, Margaret Ball
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the girl's face before the attack and as she would look after plastifilm had replaced what used to be living flesh.
Eventually.
After she rushed out of the lab theater and threw up in front of the senior surgical advisor.
At the time, she'd thought it would be the most humiliating thing that could ever happen to her in med school.
Remembering, she barely heard Polyon's bland reply that he had no intention of selling defective chips to anybody.
48
Anne McCaffrey & Margaret Ball
PARTNERSHIP
49
Blaize gave a low, admiring whistle. "Of course. Fitf.
die the QA parameters one way for Governor Lyautey's reports, the other way for sales, and who knows what happens to the metachips in between?
You could make a fortune in 6ve years!"
"I intend to," said Polyon.
He was really much too self-satisfied, especially for a man who'd left the Academy under some kind of a cloud that he was afraid or ashamed to discuss. Alpha decided that it would be doing humanity a favor to wipe that smug smile off Lieutenant de Gras-Waldheim's face. He really shouldn't smirk like that Spoiled his looks.
"I do hope you'll still be able to enjoy your fortune by then," she cooed sweetly at Polyon. "Better stay out of the way of your convict laborers, though. Nasty accidents are so easy to arrange in a D-class facility, aren't they? But don't let it worry you. Even if you do get a little spot of Ganglicide on your precious skin, I'm sure Governor Lyautey will rush you to Bahati for medical treatment. And you're lucky to have an expert in Ganglicide therapy right there at the Summerlands clinic."
"You." Polyon nodded stiffly. "That was to be your thesis topic, wasn't it?"
Alpha suppressed a start. How had Polyon known of her research? Oh, well, the High Families were such an inbred group. Probably her aunt Leona had been gossiping over the chai tables. But Polyon wouldn't know much more than the title of her projected paper; the symptoms of Ganglicide exposure were hardly fit material for chai-table gossip. She relaxed and prepared to enjoy her project of wiping that superior smirk off Polyon's face.
"I had some success with chemical treatments for the skin decay," she told him. "Halted the disintegrating process, anyway. I'm afraid we couldn't do much to verse the effects, though. The skin shreds like paper d turns sort ofblue-green. And it spreads very rapidly.
ifvou get a drop of Ganglicide on one finger while you're n Shemali, your arm will look like it's been through a per snredder by the time the shuttle delivers you to Bahati. Do try to keep it away from your pretty face."
Polyon's handsome features betrayed only slight uneasiness, but there was a knowing look in his eyes.
«you—had to interrupt your research rather suddenly, didn't you?"
Alpha silently cursed all interfering, gossiping old relatives and friends. Never mind. "More's the pity,"
she sighed. "I was just getting into the most interesting cases. You know, when Ganglicide goes into its gaseous form it attacks nerves and brain synapses. Has much the same effects on them that it has on the skin; we dissected a really fascinating case, a senior assembly tech from Shemali, as it happens. The inside of his head looked like a wet blue sponge. Of course, by the time the Ganglicide got that far he was too far gone to know or care what was happening to him. A mercy, really.
Not that we'll ever really know how long he felt the pain. Ganglicide goes straight to the pain receptors, you know; we can't block the effects with drugs. And towards the end he was screaming continuously. Like an animal dying under torture." She licked her lips and regarded Polyon. He was standing quite still, two fingers beating a nervous tattoo on the command panel behind him. The dance of his fingertips on the sensitive pressure pads made the SPACED OUT screen on the far side of the room shift back and forth jerkily, displaying alternate images of deep space and of a flaming labyrinth
Eventually.
After she rushed out of the lab theater and threw up in front of the senior surgical advisor.
At the time, she'd thought it would be the most humiliating thing that could ever happen to her in med school.
Remembering, she barely heard Polyon's bland reply that he had no intention of selling defective chips to anybody.
48
Anne McCaffrey & Margaret Ball
PARTNERSHIP
49
Blaize gave a low, admiring whistle. "Of course. Fitf.
die the QA parameters one way for Governor Lyautey's reports, the other way for sales, and who knows what happens to the metachips in between?
You could make a fortune in 6ve years!"
"I intend to," said Polyon.
He was really much too self-satisfied, especially for a man who'd left the Academy under some kind of a cloud that he was afraid or ashamed to discuss. Alpha decided that it would be doing humanity a favor to wipe that smug smile off Lieutenant de Gras-Waldheim's face. He really shouldn't smirk like that Spoiled his looks.
"I do hope you'll still be able to enjoy your fortune by then," she cooed sweetly at Polyon. "Better stay out of the way of your convict laborers, though. Nasty accidents are so easy to arrange in a D-class facility, aren't they? But don't let it worry you. Even if you do get a little spot of Ganglicide on your precious skin, I'm sure Governor Lyautey will rush you to Bahati for medical treatment. And you're lucky to have an expert in Ganglicide therapy right there at the Summerlands clinic."
"You." Polyon nodded stiffly. "That was to be your thesis topic, wasn't it?"
Alpha suppressed a start. How had Polyon known of her research? Oh, well, the High Families were such an inbred group. Probably her aunt Leona had been gossiping over the chai tables. But Polyon wouldn't know much more than the title of her projected paper; the symptoms of Ganglicide exposure were hardly fit material for chai-table gossip. She relaxed and prepared to enjoy her project of wiping that superior smirk off Polyon's face.
"I had some success with chemical treatments for the skin decay," she told him. "Halted the disintegrating process, anyway. I'm afraid we couldn't do much to verse the effects, though. The skin shreds like paper d turns sort ofblue-green. And it spreads very rapidly.
ifvou get a drop of Ganglicide on one finger while you're n Shemali, your arm will look like it's been through a per snredder by the time the shuttle delivers you to Bahati. Do try to keep it away from your pretty face."
Polyon's handsome features betrayed only slight uneasiness, but there was a knowing look in his eyes.
«you—had to interrupt your research rather suddenly, didn't you?"
Alpha silently cursed all interfering, gossiping old relatives and friends. Never mind. "More's the pity,"
she sighed. "I was just getting into the most interesting cases. You know, when Ganglicide goes into its gaseous form it attacks nerves and brain synapses. Has much the same effects on them that it has on the skin; we dissected a really fascinating case, a senior assembly tech from Shemali, as it happens. The inside of his head looked like a wet blue sponge. Of course, by the time the Ganglicide got that far he was too far gone to know or care what was happening to him. A mercy, really.
Not that we'll ever really know how long he felt the pain. Ganglicide goes straight to the pain receptors, you know; we can't block the effects with drugs. And towards the end he was screaming continuously. Like an animal dying under torture." She licked her lips and regarded Polyon. He was standing quite still, two fingers beating a nervous tattoo on the command panel behind him. The dance of his fingertips on the sensitive pressure pads made the SPACED OUT screen on the far side of the room shift back and forth jerkily, displaying alternate images of deep space and of a flaming labyrinth
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