In the distance was Mallik’s skimmer; its silver foils in the deep blue-green water mirroring the sunlight, blinding her.
She spoke into the handset. "Mallik, how was your catch?"
"Good, Jo. A fine haul, but nothing compared to what I will catch tonight."
"Mallik!"
"My scoops will net round, soft, and warm things-"
"Mallik! You are on a radio! Do you want the world to hear?"
"Joanne, the world knows…"
"…The Timans evolved next to two other intelligent races. Physically and numerically the Timans could not contest the other races, and any kind of physical combat was an early bad to them. But the survival of their race dictated their set of goods. It is logical for a Timan to seek social control over others. And it is logical for a Timan to use such control to manipulate others toward paths of self-destruction.
"While the other races of the planet sharpened their skills at war, the Timans learned how to turn rules back upon themselves. And now, despite their still small numbers, the Timans are one of the most influential races represented in the Ninth Quadrant Federation. The two races that evolved with them are now extinct. Genocide to the Timan is logical…"
…The humming stopped. The voices were very close…
…Someone handling her arm; a low, muttered "kiz," footsteps, voices:
"Jetah Pur Sonaan, see this."
Silence. A new voice. "The skin should be healing… these cracked areas running with red and yellow fluid."
"The human’s skin reacts differently to the ointment than ours."
"This was a conclusion that even your master could reach, Vunseleh."
"Jetah, I meant no disrespect-"
"Remove the bandages and wash off the ointment-" A deep shocked silence. "Her eyes. Her eyes, you fool! Hurry…"
It seemed so easy for her to direct her mind away from the threatening, the uncomfortable.
Mind, she would say, look at Mallik. And she would see Mallik.
Move among the stars, mind. And she would see great blinding spheres race by.
She explored the bottoms of oceans, the layers of clouds surrounding gas giants, tangled tropic jungles…
…A fog of sound; her head on a dizzy high; the smell of flowers; the singsong that was Dracon:
"…Joanne Nicole, can you see this light?"
…Light? What light? Her lips felt thick and fuzzy as she tried to speak. "I can’t see anything unless I open my eyes." She tried to open her eyes.
"I don’t seem to be able to open them."
"…They are open, Joanne Nicole…"
Hours or years later, her mind allowed what she had perceived before to be explored. Blind? Was this the horror so many feared? Not to see?
She swam in drug-soaked dreams; seeing. Seeing things she had never seen with eyes.
…I should react, feel.
But she was detached from her pain, from her awareness, from her feelings. The darkness was something warm, friendly, comfortable. Long stretches of silence, sleep, and a delicious, drugged something between nonexistence and being. Thought, feeling, and reality were mundane irrelevancies as she let herself drift endlessly upon black billows…
…Bursts of light, sound, the taste of copper. The dirt and rock glowing, exploding; the blue streaks of assault landers against the night sky.
Benbo’s face floating in front of her. "We lost the foothills, Major. But toadface paid for them."
"How much did we pay to collect, Sergeant? How much did we pay to collect?"
His confused expression disappeared in a flash of white…
It seemed as though she had been treading water endlessly; but she was not tired. Numb, detached; but not tired. And Joanne Nicole took notice of voices. Sound-any sensation-was something approaching a gift. The voices became louder.
"Jetah, the human master is in the corridor. She is a female."
"Send her in, Mitzak. And be restrained. She is Akkujah vemadah and owes us no favors."
Footsteps.
"Your name-ha! Your skin! It is yellow!"
"No shit, toadface. So is yours."
"Yes, but… I didn’t mean… your name?"
"Tokyo Rose. And who is this one?"
"Leonid Mitzak, Captain."
"No guts for the Madah, eh Mitzak?" A pause. "Where’s the patient?"
Pur Sonaan’s voice. "Here, then, is the human you were told of, Tokyo Rose."
More footsteps. Nicole felt a presence over her, then a gentle hand on her face.
"What is her name?"
"Joanne Nicole."
"Very well, you scumbuckets take off while I examine her."
"…You want us to leave the room?"
Silence, then soft footsteps, as the hand moved and a finger pulled at the skin above first the left, then the right eye.
"Damn…" The hand left Nicole’s face. "Nicole? Nicole? Can you hear me?"
As she answered, her mouth felt fuzzy. "Is that you, Tokyo Rose?"
Surpressed laughter. "Captain Tegara. I’m a doctor. What in the hell did they do to you?"
Nicole heard Tegara moving some objects around on a hard surface. "Fire. I was in a fire."
Again Tegara bent over Nicole and opened her right eye. "You must be someone pretty special, Nicole. Toadface pulled me out of the Madah on Akkujah to give you a checkup. Can you see anything with your right eye?"
"No."
A click. "Now?"
"No. Tegara, what’s happening with the war?"
Her hand moved to Nicole’s left eye. "Up until my unit was snagged, everybody seemed to be losing. Can you see anything with your left eye?"
"No."
"Where did they get you?" A click. "Anything now?"
"No. I was garrisoned on Catvishnu."
"Catvishnu?" She moved away; more objects clattering. "We didn’t think anyone lived through that."
"I’m about it." Nicole felt Tegara lift her left arm; "Well? What about my eyes?"
A pause. "There’s nothing anyone can do about your eyes, Nicole. Maybe if you can get to a USE hospital. I don’t have either the skills or the equipment. It looks as though they used some of their own burn ointment on you. The surfaces of both eyes have been burned and stained black. I think the damage might be repairable, but not here. A lot depends on how long the ointment was used."
"What do my eyes… look like?"
"Wall-to-wall black." She lowered Nicole’s left arm, then walked behind her head and picked up her right arm. "You’re going to look like a boiled beet for a while, but I think the scarring on your skin will be minor." She lowered the arm. "Are you in any pain?"
"No. None at all. In fact, I can’t feel much of anything. It’s like I’ve been swimming in morphine for a hundred years."
"Catvishnu was a while back. Can you feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"How about that?"
Nicole felt something. "A pressure; scratching on my upper right arm?"