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Pegwai's help, bathed Skeen and collapsed near tears when the fever broke
shortly after midnight and left Skeen cool and peacefully asleep. Pegwai
helped Timka across the cabin to the other bunk. They sat side by side and
watched Skeen, not yet willing to trust this change. They'd been suckered
before by one of the infusions when the fever dipped close to normal; the
thing that kept hope simmering in them both this time was a small difference.
Before, the hand didn't change if anything, the swelling worsened; now, the
hand was gone, the ominous red streaks were gone. One hour passed. Another.
Timka turned to Pegwai. "It's over; she's going to make it."
More cautious, Pegwai hesitated before he answered. Finally, he nodded. "I
think so, but I'll be sure if she's still improving come the dawn."
Shortly after noon, Skeen stirred, moaned, opened her eyes. "Wha& "
Timka bent over her. "Skeen?"
Skeen produced a thin smile. "I'm not too sure of that." She lifted her head,
tried to pull her arm along and raise herself on her elbows; the pain in the
stump stopped that. She grunted, tried to raise the arm high enough so she
could see it, but she was still too weak for so much effort; she lay back.
"Things have been happening."
"We had to take your hand off. I'm sorry, Skeen, there wasn't anything else we
could do I'm sorry, yes. but you're still alive. We used the cutter, you
needn't worry about that, the cut was clean."
"Pah! Timmy, don't babble on like that, you make my head ache." There was a
weary fretfulness in her voice, pauses between the phrases. "If you expect me
to scream at you, you're being stupid. And don't worry about the hand. Once I
make the other side, I can drop into a Tank Farm and have the flesh sculps
regrow it for me good as new." She drew her tongue across her lips. "Think I
could have some water?"
Timka brought her a cup of water, lifted her head so she could drink. When she
was finished, Skeen lay back looking exhausted, great dark smudges under her
eyes, so little flesh under the smooth white skin her face was uncomfortably
like a skull. Timka knelt holding the cup and wondered not for the first time
just how old Skeen was; she'd muttered about ananile shots which kept age at a
comfortable distance. Cutter beams, drugs that stopped aging. Tank Farms where
you could grow back missing parts; that otherside world sounded more
frightening the more she heard about it. Pit Stops, world ships, stars that
are suns, suns thick as islands in the Spray&
Skeen yawned, muttered, "Gonna sleep a while, my gear& " The mutter sank into
inaudibility as Skeen's breathing went deep and slow.
Timka waited long enough to be sure she wasn't going to wake soon, then she
went out.
She stood a moment blinking in sunlight she hadn't seen for days. The Aggitj
came running and swirled like windblown leaves about her, even Hart excited
and babbling. "Yes," she said, "Skeen was awake for a little. Yes, she's going
to be all right. Yes, you can see her in a little, but she's sleeping now,
she's very weak. Where's Petro?"
"Up there, still playing with Skeen's tools." Hal waved a hand at the
quarterdeck rising over them. "Where she's out of the way. You want me to
fetch her?" He leaned toward her, his thin face eager. The Aggitj had been
passionately concerned about Skeen; they had tried to help tend her, but Timka
sent them away. They couldn't control their reactions; they shared Skeen's
every pang and developed sympathetic fevers that rose and fell with hers. Once
they were back in the light, with the crew and the scatter of passengers, they
recovered some of their ebullience, but nights were still difficult; they took
mattresses off their bunks and put them on the floor, slept huddled together
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in a pile of warm flesh.
"No," Timka said, "I'll go. I need to talk to her." She squinted into the
brilliant cloudless sky; the light made her eyes water. She blinked. "When
Chulji comes in, let him know, will you?" She turned toward the stairs. The
Aggitj parted for her. They watched her climb, wanting (she knew) to ask more
about Skeen and why she wanted Lipitero; they were teeming with questions, but
they said nothing, not even Ders. Aggitj tact. Lifefire bless them.
Maggi stood in her usual place watching the smooth operation of her crew; she
came striding over and met Timka at the top of the stairs. "Skeen?"
"Fever's gone, I doubt it'll be back. She's sleeping now. If you could send
down some soup in about an hour? I'm going to feed her a little every hour.
She's pretty dehydrated in spite of what we managed to get down her the past
week."
"Does she know about the hand? How did she take that?"
Timka laughed, shook her head. "She wasn't impressed. Do you know what she
said? You'd never guess it. She said, 'Don't fuss, I'll just take myself to a
Tank Farm' whatever that is 'and have them grow me a new one.''
"What? Never mind, I heard. Are you going through the Gate with her?"
"I think so. I haven't much choice, you know what's after me."
Maggi rubbed at her nose, looked thoughtfully at Timka. "Folk who give advice
annoy me." Her mouth twisted into a tight rueful smile. "Keep as many roads
open as you can. I don't know your people or your sister, but from what I've
seen you could give her one fancy fight if you took a notion to; it might be
worth trying. Skeen's world scares the stiffening out of my bones and I'm not
ashamed to admit it. If I had a choice between going home to the Boot or
following her, I'd take the Boot and you know enough about Aggitj to know what
that means."
Timka smiled, but shook her head. Without saying anything more she started for
the cloaked figure tucked away at the bow end of the deck.
Lipitero heard her before she got close, turned, stiffened.
"Skeen is starting to recover," Timka said hastily, she squatted beside
Lipitero and eyed the array of enigmatic objects spread round the Ykx's knees.
"Found out anything more?"
"A few hints." She lifted a squat cylinder. "This seems to have a measuring
function, something to do with forces and numbers." She set the cylinder back
where she'd got it. "How soon can I talk with her?"
"I'm waking her to feed her some soup in about an hour. She's very weak yet.
Don't push her too hard."
"No, of course not. Does she want her gear? That why you came hunting for me?"
"In part, yes. She's very calm about the whole thing, even her hand. I can't
really understand that. Even if she does think she can get the hand regrown
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