"No," exclaimed Garnet. "You needn't tell Jasper."
"Just for overnight observation."
"But if they've done something forbidden—"
"We'll see."
Garnet's irises flashed pink; that was Rose.
"I need them back now," Chrys told him.
"What did they say?"
Chrys flexed her fingers awkwardly. "I don't know yet."
Garnet looked from her to Daeren in a calculating way. "Just let me go. I've a home on Solaria; I'll go, and won't come back." Run twenty light-years, but not escape what's within.
Daeren caressed his shoulder. "We'd miss you. All of you. Olympus wouldn't be the same." At his touch Garnet relaxed enough to let Chrys have her people back.
"They've 'experimented' with his neurons," reported Rose.
" 'They?' You mean his own people?"
"They claim he asked for it, just for fun. They offered us untold amounts of palladium not to tell—as if the nanos won't find out anyhow. Pathetic, if you ask me."
"You yourself once looked pathetic, as a refugee," Chrys reminded her.
"Look, I know the Great Hosts don't give an atom for what I think, but what's the harm in a little Enlightenment? Sure, they messed up a few dendrites out of ignorance, but they'll grow back...."
"I'll call my attorney," Garnet added, but his tone had softened.
"It's not yet a matter for the law," Daeren pointed out. "If you come now, it stays with the Committee. Section Five-oh-three-three, subsection A."
At the hospital, Doctor Sartorius took Garnet away for the nanos to test every neuron. Chrys imagined him lying there amid worm-tubes all snaking into his head. She turned to Daeren. "What will become of him?"
The peach-colored walls extended a packet of instruments into a bubble of plast, which took off down the hall, dodging the humans at the last moment. Drunks and accident victims passed to and fro, the hospital's usual evening clientele. Daeren sank into a chair. "What happens next depends on what we find. If Rose is right, Garnet's people were just starting to go bad. We take out the main instigators and make an example of them."
Chrys sighed. "Hope mine learn a lesson too."
"They still ask?"
"Now and then."
Daeren watched her curiously, as if trying to figure her out. "I'm glad you were there. I'm not sure he would have made it with me."
Her mouth twisted. "His people thought they could buy mine off."
"Perhaps. I prefer a more generous view. But remember—" He looked her in the eye. "Never make a promise you can't keep."
She looked down. "I'll remember."
"Jasper?" Daeren rose from his seat. "We're glad you're here."
Lord Jasper strode quickly toward them, the map stone gleaming on his fur talar. "Is he all right? Where is he?"
"He's having the brain scan. We expect he'll be fine, but we need to make sure."
"Good god, what a scare." Jasper wiped his brow. "Are you sure he's all right? You've cleaned them out?"
Daeren hesitated. "Chrys is training with us," he added, noting Jasper's questioning look. "Her people checked him out."
"Yes, I recall now he mentioned it." Jasper nodded apologetically. "Dreadfully sorry for this ... inconvenience."
Chrys said, "It's an honor to be of service." She saw the sweat on his forehead. He must be worried sick, but for Jasper, dignity was everything.
Daeren addressed the wall. "Consult, please." The wall punched in, shaping a small round conference room done in blues and greens. Depression color, Chrys would have called it. As the three entered and took seats, the wall closed them in. "Here are Garnet's options," Daeren began. "The choice is his, but he'll need your support. He's lucky to have you."
Jasper waved his arm impatiently, as if at a poor business presentation. "I know he'll be fine. He just needs a clean start."
"That's one option," Daeren admitted. "If micros damage dopamine receptors, the carrier can choose to be swept for arsenic. The people know that." He hesitated. "That's a drastic choice."
"The hell it is. I know the law as well as you." Jasper faced Daeren coolly, but his hand was shaking. "I want him safe, do you hear?"
"If he chooses to keep them—the innocent majority—he'll be safe enough. My Watchers will see him through."
Jasper's hand closed into a fist. "You put him up to this."
"We haven't yet spoken—he doesn't even know if—"
"You wanted an excuse to give him your people, was that it? Or was the idea his?"
"Jasper," said Daeren in a low voice, "you're not yourself. Think clearly—you need to help him."
Chrys's heart pounded. "I could give him Watchers."
The two men turned to her. Jasper was incredulous. "You?"
"She's trained," Daeren agreed.
Jasper added, "You mean Eleutherians would be willing to spend their lives with Garnet?"
"I'll ask them. I mean, they'll do as I tell them."
Daeren looked away. "Thanks, Chrys. You know, this was my third call today. Perhaps you and the doctor could take it from here." He caught her hand, a bit harder than usual. They quickly exchanged transfers. Then he left without looking back, the taut deltoids shifting smoothly beneath his nanotex. Chrys wanted to run after him, to say something, but he was gone.
"Jonquil, could you recruit seven Watchers for the God of Love?"
"Certainly, God of Mercy. Though it's hard to believe, I know elders of good character who despise modern design and would embrace a mission of service." And the chance to invest in palladium, she guessed.
Jasper sat straight and folded his hands. "We're greatly in your debt."
"It's our job," she breathed. "Thank the Committee." Damn it, she was sounding like a bureaucrat already. She watched Jasper, his face like a mask, his fingers tightening and flexing, struggling between pride and fear.
"The God of the Map of the Universe?" inquired Jonquil. "Any word on our bid? Our aesthetic engineers have new options to offer."
Chrys tapped Jasper on the hand. "They want to talk shop."
He looked up in surprise. "Here?"
She shrugged. "You know Eleutheria."
Jasper accepted a transfer. His face relaxed. "The Silicon planning board agreed to hear us next month," he told her. "A good sign."
A bad sign, thought Chrys glumly. Even sentients made mistakes.
At the door appeared a face full of worms. It was Doctor Sartorius.
"The Terminator," flashed Jonquil. "Flee for your lives!"
"Be dark." Executions—that's all her people could think of the good doctor. "Be glad for those spared."
"You can see him now," Sartorius told Jasper. When Jasper had gone, the worm-face took a seat, out of politeness; he could just as easily have shaped himself down. "Welcome aboard, Chrysoberyl." His voice sounded more melodious than usual. "You are a welcome addition to the Committee."
"What happened exactly?" Chrys asked. "How did Garnet get in trouble? Why didn't the nanos warn him?"
The doctor's eyes swiveled unnervingly around the post of his body. "Our dopamine sensors are tuned to a fine threshold. We wouldn't want to sound alarms, say, every time you look at a beautiful painting."
Chrys rolled her eyes. "Saints preserve us."
"His people convinced themselves they did no harm, so long as they set off no alarms. But when testing time came, they panicked. They even fudged his memory, a worse sin than the original. He actually believed he was okay; but when they couldn't face the blue angels, he panicked."
"I see. That's why he seemed fine at first." She shuddered.
The worms hung still. "I'm sorry." The doctor's voice came soft. "Sorry we let this happen. I've contacted Opal; we'll redesign the sensors."