The compleat collected s.., p.603
The COMPLEAT Collected SFF Works, page 603
"Surface condensation is beginning to form," said Nolan worriedly. "Help me move her to your casket quickly, but with great care. Do not grip the body too tightly, nor allow it to touch any hard surfaces during the transfer. In this condition the tissues are as fragile as spun glass and could be damaged if—"
"You have already told me as much, several times within the hour," said Dervla in an irritated voice. "Please do not remind me of it again."
"I'm sorry, Healer," said Nolan.
Within a few seconds it was done. He positioned the restraints and thaw-pads, closed the lid, and initiated the warming. Only then did he take the time to look at her face.
"And I am sorry," said Dervla in a voice that was almost as cold as the sleeper. "It is obvious that you have a deep and personal concern for this one. She is an exceptionally lovely young woman, and you are to be congratulated."
"Don't be ridiculous!" said Nolan. "She's not my ..."
He had to stop then, because the frozen copper statue was coming to life. She was moving, the long flawless body was tensing and twitching with the cold of the icy film of condensation that still clung to her, and suddenly she was looking around the sides of the casket.
Nolan lifted up the lid and released her upper-body restraints, then he slipped his arm behind her shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position.
"Don't be afraid," he said in a quiet, reassuring voice. "We are Healers performing one of the routine, random checks on the functioning of the colonist caskets. You are being awakened for a few minutes so that we may do so."
On the other side of the casket, Dervla gave a sigh that might have been of disapproval. Surely the Order of Orla was not averse to telling the odd therapeutic lie?
"I'm—I'm cold," said the girl, and clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Her face was only a few inches from his own, and her eyes were very large and soft and dark.
Gently, he said, "Of course you are cold. I'm sorry about that, but I cannot warm you properly, or give you something hot to drink, because that would delay and complicate your recooling. And now I must examine you and at the same time ask you a few questions, to confirm the information that the biosensors are giving me. I'll be as quick as I can. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
She nodded, and he went on, "Are there any areas of your body, large or small, which are painful, numb, or giving itching or burning sensations? Any localized loss of feeling, impairment of vision, headache, diminished mental clarity? Any sensation, or lack of it, which I have not mentioned and which worries you?"
She shook her head.
"That's good," said Nolan. "And now the memory check. Can you describe the place where you lived? I know that it will seem like only moments ago to you, but can you recall exactly the date when you were cooled? Can you remember the names and faces of your friends, and your own name, too, of course? Think about these things and take your time."
But the girl did not need time to think. Promptly, she replied, "I was cooled during the Moon of the Leaping Deer, early in the morning of ... you paleskins would call it the seventh day of April, fourteen hundred and ninety-one, Anno Domini ..."
The morning of the same day that she had been taken up to the ship, Nolan thought. Once he had agreed to do that small favor for Silver Elk, Wanachtee had moved fast.
"I can remember the places where I lived both recently and during early childhood," she went on, "and the names and faces of my relatives and friends are clear in my mind, as is my own name which I would prefer not to speak."
"Your name is not important to me," said Nolan, smiling, "so long as I am satisfied regarding your ability to remember it. If you tell me that you can remember all these things, that is good and I believe you."
She returned his smile, then looked down at her uncovered body for a moment before meeting his eyes again. Impishly, she said, "A girl should be allowed to keep something hidden from a man."
Nolan laughed quietly and said, "Not, I hope, from every man. Not from the one who, like you, sleeps in a casket that does not bear his true identity. As a Healer I can find nothing wrong with you, either in mind or body, and must now return you to cold sleep."
"Please wait," she said, and her slender brown fingers were tightly encircling his wrist. "If you know that, you must be Healer Nolan and the one my great-grandfather told me who would be asked to watch over us while we slept. Have you seen my ... Is he, also, well?"
Nolan could give no such reassurance, because he did not know where in the ship Wanachtee might be, but the probability was high that the other was, indeed, well. Not wanting to worry her needlessly with the exact truth, he gently detached her fingers from his wrist and pressed her back into the casket.
"When you next awaken," he said softly, "it will be many centuries from now, but to the both of you only a moment will have passed. You can ask that question of him yourself."
When she was cold again Nolan continued to look into the casket for a moment. Her face was composed, her eyes closed, but it was the first time that he had seen anyone smiling in their cold sleep. He rubbed at his eyes irritably and looked across at Healer Dervla.
"She is well," he said, "but now we must try to cure the ills afflicting her casket."
Healer Dervla's response was to take a deep breath that she exhaled not at all silently through her nose. Then in a calm, controlled, and entirely clinical voice she said, "Healer Nolan, may all of your hair fall out and your eyes shrivel in their sockets, may a wasting fever turn your lungs to slime, may the manhood of your loins wither and drop off, and may an oozing, suppurating pox cover every single inch of your outsized body, if you do not tell me, now, at once, who is this woman, what secrets do you share, and what the hell is happening on this ship.
"Speak, Healer, ere I succumb to terminal curiosity," she ended fiercely. "Spit me out another tooth!"
Nolan moved to the other casket and began opening the fastenings that kept its internal padding in place. He said, "She is Golden Rain, the recently married squaw of the Redman executive sub-Chief, Wanachtee, who also sleeps somewhere in the ship. She is also greatly beloved by her great-grandfather, the great Chief of Chiefs, Silver Elk, who asked that I perform a small favor for him, that of secretly bringing her, with the help of Wanachtee and a number of Mojave Spaceport personnel, to the ship.
"If you don't mind, Healer Dervla," he added, "I will work as we speak."
While he was making a careful visual inspection of the circuitry that lay under the layers of padding, he went on to relate the effect on Silver Elk of the Coshawnee incident and the relevant conversations and actions of Wanachtee and himself.
"I remember that you were given permission to visit the children of some influential Plains Chief," she said when he had finished speaking. "At the time you were scarcely missed—because there were some difficult financial negotiations in progress, His Eminence told me later. Was it a coincidence that the difficulties were resolved, to the satisfaction of all concerned, on the seventh of April?"
"Probably not," said Nolan.
Dervla made a sound that could have meant anything. She said, "Do I understand correctly? You have been asked to take special care of this Westland woman because she is already married to another colonist, when we both know that all such pairings are expressly forbidden until the colony is established. As well, you have in your possession a brassard that is worn only by those entrusted with the urgent and private business of His Celestial Highness of Cathay. Healer, I would hear more."
In a voice that was louder than would normally be considered mannerly, for the reason that his head and upper body were deep inside the faulty casket, he told her of his lecture in the Imperial College of Lensmakers and the subsequent request by Hseng Hwa that he travel silently, his features hidden by the glare shield and wearing the brassard in plain sight. He had not been told the identity of the person he was to escort, but had learned later that it was a boy-child of the Imperial Family.
"... And I cannot find a fault in this accursed thing!" Nolan went on angrily as he looked up at her. "But fault there must surely be, and it must be found."
It was plain from Dervla's expression that curiosity rather than the technicalities of cold sleep caskets was uppermost in her mind.
She said, "It seems that you have been requested, or perhaps have chosen to make yourself, personally responsible for the safety of the Heir Apparent of Cathay as well as this lovely and unlawfully married colonist from Westland. Before I ask you why, please answer me this: Are there others of whom you have appointed yourself a special guardian?"
He must have missed the fault during the first and perhaps overly hasty examination, Nolan thought, so he would have to repeat it with more care. He sighed, and said, "There is the Ionadacht, Ciaran, and—"
"Surely not!" said Dervla incredulously. "What need has the Captain of the Imperial Guard for a guardian?"
"And the Princess Ulechitzl," Nolan went on in a firm voice. "I believe now that his concern was for her safety rather than his own. They met for the first time at Maeve's reception at Tara, but it was plain that Ciaran felt very protective toward her, although her own feelings were not so clearly displayed. In any event, his concern seems to have been justified, because her casket was one of many others that were moved aft from the crew module. Fortunately, hers did not develop a fault."
Dervla was silent for a moment, then she said thoughtfully, "Why should she, or indeed any sleeper, be moved during the course of the voyage? I remember this Princess Ulechitzl. A small, beautiful, and very intelligent girl who, in the years ahead, would naturally seek the protection of a large and capable man like Ciaran, or indeed yourself. She is doubly fortunate in having both of you as guardians. And, Healer, my original question remains: Are there any other beautiful young female colonists under your protection?"
Nolan's eyes were on her, but his mind was seeing only the complexities of the last circuit board he had examined. Again she misread his expression.
"It seems, Healer," she said coldly, "that my questions have become an irritation to you. I shall therefore leave you to work without distraction."
"No, please stay," said Nolan quickly. "I need all the nontechnical and moral support that you can give me. And I will gladly answer your questions until there isn't a tooth left in my mouth. But now I must concentrate, because this time I shall be powering up the individual circuits which together make the warming possible, and hope to uncover the fault in this way since the other method has failed. The procedure is risky, however, in that I might accidentally initiate a premature warming sequence and—"
"Risky!" said Dervla fiercely. In a voice of angry concern she went on, "That is no exaggeration. I have learned enough about hibernation anesthesia to know that the radiation needed to warm a cold sleeper is seriously damaging, perhaps even lethal, to a body that is already warm. Please be careful. I need you as a Healer, not a patient."
"There should be enough warning for me to withdraw in time," Nolan said reassuringly. "The risk, if you think about it, is to Golden Rain and the ship."
She was thinking about it, for the scattering of freckles that he had not hitherto noticed were standing out darkly on a face that had grown suddenly pale.
"This is a colonist casket," he went on grimly, "which means that if I cause it to go prematurely into the thaw cycle, its usefulness is ended so far as warming Golden Rain is concerned. She could remain in your casket until journey's end, but that is not a possibility to be given serious consideration by either of us, because you would then have to remain warm in the ship for the rest of your life. That would be a complete waste of a multi-cycle unit, and of your own life and professional knowledge which will undoubtedly be instrumental in saving many lives on the New World. You would have to be a martyr, a selfish and stupid and most irresponsible martyr, to consider doing that. So it would be Golden Rain who would have to live out her life on board, with all the personal tragedy, not to mention the moral difficulties she would cause to a succession of celibate watch-keeping officers."
Dervla laughed suddenly, then said, "I'm sorry, it is not a matter for laughter."
"No," said Nolan, and went on, "out of kindness, and to reduce the level of temptation to our priestly watch-keepers, I would seriously consider reviving Wanachtee as well, so that the two of them could at least live out their lives together on the ship."
Dervla looked at him long and steadily, with an expression he could not read. When she spoke, her words were critical but the tone was not.
"Healer Nolan," she said, "you seriously trouble me. Your heart is too soft. Were you to do anything as stupid and sentimental as that, I have no doubt our priestly colleagues would find it easier to resist the temptation of a married female, but the other forms of disruption might be great indeed. What if, as is highly probable, there are children? And the children have children? Aisling Gheal was never designed to be a generation ship. But I assume you have already considered these possibilities?"
"Yes," said Nolan.
"And?" Dervla prompted gently.
"And I must correct the fault in this bloody casket," he replied, "and make no mistakes while I'm doing it."
Dervla gestured toward her own casket and said, "Golden Rain sleeps and there is no great urgency about this repair. Much depends on your skill as a technician rather than a Healer, and it may be that a lengthy pause, to rest, or talk about other matters, would help you to order your thoughts."
"You tempt me sorely," said Nolan, "but I feel that if I do not find this fault soon then I shall never do so. But it is work for the fingers, not the mind, so by all means talk and give me something else to think about."
"I had no intention of tempting you," said Dervla, her face deepening in color. She went on thoughtfully, "The captain once told me that the original intention was to make the unlawful warming of a colonist or crew-member a crime punishable by death. This was during the early days, he said, when the crew as well as the colonists were expected to be in proportion to their natural contributions. It was believed that the loneliness and other psychological pressures of a solitary two-year watch made the threat of the ultimate excommunication the only effective deterrent to would-be offenders. But that would have meant that any watch-keeper might have been called on to execute a colleague. Fortunately, the planners considered this solution to be barbaric and the psychological pressures on each and every crew-member to be unacceptable. That was why Maeve's suggestion that the ship be crewed entirely by technical members of the Imperial Civil Service of Hibernia was adopted after much long and bitter disputation. But it was finally agreed that the ship would indeed be manned exclusively by Hibernian-trained ecclesiastics rather than their brethren of the European Church, some of whom in the past had been inclined toward moral laxity, the excessive acquisition of worldly riches, and much other unpriestly behavior. Hibernians strict religious training, rigorous, near-Druidic self-disciplines, and uncompromising dedication to the celibate life would enable them to serve as watch-keepers with minimum risk of psychological disorders. Also, as priests, they would be obliged by their calling to mete out such punishment as might become necessary in as nonviolent a fashion as was possible.
"A few nonclerics were included," Dervla went on. "Lander pilots, who were not to be allowed to stand watch, and the members of the medical department who were thought to be psychologically stable and sufficiently dedicated to their own calling to similarly resist the temptations of the flesh. They were also included, His Eminence told me, to help ward off the criticism that Aisling Gheal was becoming the private property of the Hibernian Empress."
"The captain," said Nolan in surprise, "spoke of such highly confidential matters to you? Should you be telling me about them?"
"His Eminence," said Dervla, her tone becoming defensive, "has been helpful to me at Tara and on the ship. He is the only other officer on Aisling Gheal with whom I could talk freely, and in the present circumstances any misplaced confidences will not get back to the High-Queen. Besides, I spoke only to relieve your mind of one of its problems by reminding you of the form of relatively mild, nonviolent, priestly punishment that awaits you if the work does not go well."
"Thank you," said Nolan. "I meant no offense—"
"Of course you meant no offense!" said Dervla, with a sudden flare of temper. "You never mean to give offense. You seem always to consider the feelings and needs of others to the exclusion of your own. You are a great, fat jelly of a man with no backbone, no mind of his own, and a man who can refuse nothing to anybody. And yet there are times when you seem to lose whatever mind you have, and you speak or act in a fashion that places you, places us, at the most fearful risk. The Coshawnee incident, the rescue on the blast shield support, your use of that ceramic splint, and ... and Father Quinn told the monsignor who told the cardinal who told me about the lecture in the College of Lens-makers. Highly complementary to the Order of Orla and myself you were, and I should thank you for that. But if those black-thumbs had succeeded in discrediting you and casting doubt on the already-agreed postlanding medical procedures, the project could have been set back by months or even years. And now you have involved me in this present situation, one that could place the entire project in even greater jeopardy if the Redwoman cannot be cooled. For a big, soft, inoffensive man who is everyone's tool, you can certainly cause havoc out of all proportion to—"
"I'm sorry," said Nolan, feeling his own temper begin to slip, "but what else could I have done?" In an attempt to answer at least one of her accusations he went on, "If I am used, then it is only by those I like or respect or—"
"Your trouble," Dervla broke in angrily, "is that you like people too easily."
"Again, I am sorry," Nolan replied, in a tone that was a total contradiction of the words.
For a moment they glared at each other in silence. Then gradually Dervla's angry expression began to change to one of sympathy and concern.
"Healer Nolan," she said quietly, "it is I who should apologize. This is not the time for recriminations and harsh or hasty words which I, to my shame, have been using for the relief of my own feelings rather than in your support. You have a difficult and delicate task ahead, one that only you can perform, and harsh words from me are not helpful. Once again, I apologize."
