Ship Who Searched by Anne McCaffrey, Mercedes Lackey Page B
Authors: Anne McCaffrey, Mercedes Lackey
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mind. “It’s okay, really, I’ve been kind of numb for a while so it doesn’t hurt, honest—”
Pota and Braddon both froze. Something about their expressions startled her into silence.
“You don’t feel anything?” Pota said, carefully. “No pain, nothing at all?”
She shook her head. “My hands and feet were tingling for a while, and then they stopped and went numb. I thought if I just waited you could take care of it when you weren’t so busy—”
They wouldn’t let her say anything else. Within moments they had established through careful prodding and tests with the end of a sharp probe that the numb area now ended at mid-thigh and mid-shoulder.
“How long has this been going on?” Braddon asked, while Pota flew to the AI console to call up the medical program the adults used.
“Oh, a few weeks,” she said vaguely. “Socrates said it wasn’t anything, that I’d grow out of it. Then he acted like I was making it up, and I didn’t want him to get the Psychs on me. So I figured I would. . . .”
Pota returned at that moment, her mouth set in a grim line. “You are going straight to bed, pumpkin,” she said, with what Tia could tell was forced lightness. “Socrates thinks you have pinched nerves; possibly a spinal defect that he can’t scan for. So you are going to bed, and we are calling for a courier to come get you. All right?”
Braddon and Pota exchanged one of those looks, the kind Tia couldn’t read, and Tia’s heart sank. “Okay,” she sighed with resignation. “I didn’t mean to be such a bother, honest, I didn’t—”
Braddon scooped her up in his arms and carried her off to her room. “Don’t even think that you’re being a bother,” he said fiercely. “We love you, pumpkin. And we’re going to see that you get better as quickly as we can.”
He tucked her into bed, with Ted beside her, and called up a holo from the almost-forbidden collection. “Here,” he said, kissing her tenderly. “Your Mum is going to be in here in a minute to put something on those burns. Then we’re going to spend all our time making you the most disgustingly spoiled little brat in known space! What you have to do is lie there and think really hard about getting better. Is it a deal?”
“Sure, Dad,” she replied, managing to find a grin for him somewhere. “It’s a deal.”
CHAPTER TWO
Because Tia was in no danger of dying—and because there was no craft available to come fetch her capable of Singularity Drive—the AI-drone that had been sent to take her to a Central Worlds hospital took two more weeks to arrive. Two more long, interminable weeks, during which the faces of her Mum and Dad grew drawn and frightened—and in which her condition not only did not improve, it deteriorated.
By the end of that two weeks, she was in much worse shape; she had not only lost all feeling in her limbs, she had lost use of them as well. The clumsiness that had begun when she had trouble with buttons and zippers had turned into paralysis. If she hadn’t felt the need to keep her parents’ spirits up, she’d have cried. She couldn’t even hold Ted anymore.
She joked about it to her Mum, pretending that she had always wanted to be waited on hand and foot. She had to joke about it; although she was terrified, the look of fear in her parents’ eyes drove her own terrors away. She was determined, absolutely determined, not to let them know how frightened she was. They were already scared enough—if she lost her courage, they might panic.
The time crawled by, as she watched holo after holo and played endless games of chess against Braddon, and kept telling herself that once she got to the hospital everything would be fine. Of course it would be fine. There wasn’t anything that a Central Worlds hospital couldn’t cure. Everyone knew that! Only congenital defects couldn’t be cured. But she had been fine, right up until the day this started. It was probably something
Pota and Braddon both froze. Something about their expressions startled her into silence.
“You don’t feel anything?” Pota said, carefully. “No pain, nothing at all?”
She shook her head. “My hands and feet were tingling for a while, and then they stopped and went numb. I thought if I just waited you could take care of it when you weren’t so busy—”
They wouldn’t let her say anything else. Within moments they had established through careful prodding and tests with the end of a sharp probe that the numb area now ended at mid-thigh and mid-shoulder.
“How long has this been going on?” Braddon asked, while Pota flew to the AI console to call up the medical program the adults used.
“Oh, a few weeks,” she said vaguely. “Socrates said it wasn’t anything, that I’d grow out of it. Then he acted like I was making it up, and I didn’t want him to get the Psychs on me. So I figured I would. . . .”
Pota returned at that moment, her mouth set in a grim line. “You are going straight to bed, pumpkin,” she said, with what Tia could tell was forced lightness. “Socrates thinks you have pinched nerves; possibly a spinal defect that he can’t scan for. So you are going to bed, and we are calling for a courier to come get you. All right?”
Braddon and Pota exchanged one of those looks, the kind Tia couldn’t read, and Tia’s heart sank. “Okay,” she sighed with resignation. “I didn’t mean to be such a bother, honest, I didn’t—”
Braddon scooped her up in his arms and carried her off to her room. “Don’t even think that you’re being a bother,” he said fiercely. “We love you, pumpkin. And we’re going to see that you get better as quickly as we can.”
He tucked her into bed, with Ted beside her, and called up a holo from the almost-forbidden collection. “Here,” he said, kissing her tenderly. “Your Mum is going to be in here in a minute to put something on those burns. Then we’re going to spend all our time making you the most disgustingly spoiled little brat in known space! What you have to do is lie there and think really hard about getting better. Is it a deal?”
“Sure, Dad,” she replied, managing to find a grin for him somewhere. “It’s a deal.”
CHAPTER TWO
Because Tia was in no danger of dying—and because there was no craft available to come fetch her capable of Singularity Drive—the AI-drone that had been sent to take her to a Central Worlds hospital took two more weeks to arrive. Two more long, interminable weeks, during which the faces of her Mum and Dad grew drawn and frightened—and in which her condition not only did not improve, it deteriorated.
By the end of that two weeks, she was in much worse shape; she had not only lost all feeling in her limbs, she had lost use of them as well. The clumsiness that had begun when she had trouble with buttons and zippers had turned into paralysis. If she hadn’t felt the need to keep her parents’ spirits up, she’d have cried. She couldn’t even hold Ted anymore.
She joked about it to her Mum, pretending that she had always wanted to be waited on hand and foot. She had to joke about it; although she was terrified, the look of fear in her parents’ eyes drove her own terrors away. She was determined, absolutely determined, not to let them know how frightened she was. They were already scared enough—if she lost her courage, they might panic.
The time crawled by, as she watched holo after holo and played endless games of chess against Braddon, and kept telling herself that once she got to the hospital everything would be fine. Of course it would be fine. There wasn’t anything that a Central Worlds hospital couldn’t cure. Everyone knew that! Only congenital defects couldn’t be cured. But she had been fine, right up until the day this started. It was probably something
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