‘I'm not so sure about that,' Dinah said sweetly. 'You've already proved conclusively that this planet has products that are life-saving.’
‘The Juice is useful, that's true, but let's face it, how many hypothermic victims have you encountered in your line of work?' Sean asked. 'And while it doesn't cost much to produce, there's not what you'd call a good profit margin in Juice either.’
‘Ah, but there may be other items with which to pay your ransom… like your swimming… ah, shall I say, technique?’
Sean threw back his head and laughed heartily. 'That's hereditary, Dama, and not many would put up with the inconveniences.’
‘Like running around starkers in minus-forty Celsius?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I think I need to speak to the Powers That Be on this place. You are, if you'll pardon me, really not the final authority. Or so I've been led to believe.' Dinah had cocked her head again at Sean. Then she turned abruptly to Bunny. 'You promised to guide me to one of the communion places of this planet. Do so now.' She rose. So did Megenda.
‘I will guide my kinswoman,' Muktuk said, putting a hand on Sean's shoulder to keep him seated by Yana.
Dinah gave Bunny and Diego a stern look and pointed her index finger at them. Megenda took the half-step necessary to loom above them. Bunny shrugged. Diego glowered but both rose from the bench. So did Sinead, who eyed Megenda as she idly caressed the handle of her skinning knife.
‘Remember to listen carefully, Dama,' Sean said and paid no more attention to the group setting out to the communion place.
‘Let's go and get this over with,' Megenda said in a growl, herding everyone before him. At the door, he looked back over his shoulder at the bottle, still visible on the worktop, and shook his head.
22
Adak Rourke wanted nothing more than to take his bruised and aching head back to his cabin in Kilcoole and forget about the wider universe and all its problems. He was an amiable man, with simple tastes because he'd never had occasion to have or expect more. He enjoyed the life he had once led, as Kilcoole's expediter, and keeping the snocles working and knowing when spaceships were coming in (which were few enough not to overburden the facilities or himself).
Up until this morning, he'd really enjoyed being Chief Immigration Officer and Official Welcomer but, between getting conked on the head (hard) and now this, he felt inadequate. That didn't set well. Neither did the unanswerable demands of these latest arrivals. In all his born days, he'd never seen anything like this! Though he'd heard both Sinead and Clodagh had had to manage some pretty queer persons lately,
‘You mean, there are no hospital facilities whatever on this planet?' the indignant personage repeated for the umpteenth time.
‘I keep telling you, if someone's sick, they stay home,' Adak replied.
He cast a jaundiced eye at the 'patient' who would have been better off staying at home, too, instead of bringing who-knew-what rare disease to Petaybee.
Right after they'd arrived, a big orange tomcat had sauntered in, sitting down beside the sick man's chair to wash itself. Then it had hopped up on the man's lap, sniffed, lifted its lip in a disgusted way, and hopped down again to saunter out the door. Adak figured it was going to tell Clodagh there was someone sick and smelly here. Personally, he could only hope Clodagh would hurry. He was a little out of his depth, and Clodagh was the healer, after all. Though he was absolutely certain she wasn't what this high and lofty group would expect to tend their patient. Mind you, if he knew Clodagh Senungatuck, and he had all his life, she'd be the very person to heal the man in the remarkable chair.
It floated, dang it, above the floor of the Cube, as he had watched it float above snow and mud and everything else people had to plough through around Space-Base these days. And the 'patient' - a Very Important Personage named Farringer Ball whose helpers seemed to think that even Adak Rourke would know who he was - was hitched up by tubes to the chair.
‘Or,' Adak continued,' they call their local healer if they don't live in Kilcoole, or Clodagh Senungatuck if they do which is what I've done only it'll take her time to get here.’
‘Don't you realize that in medical situations time is of the essence?’
‘Sure, but he ain't bleeding and he is breathing and those're encouraging signs,' Adak said. 'And he's got all of you here to make sure he doesn't bleed and keeps breathing so sit down, please, over there, until Clodagh gets herself here.’
The person in his beautifully tailored, fine travel garment looked at the spartan seating arrangements and the expression on his face when he turned back to Adak was dour and condescending.
‘Surely there is some kind of transit lounge’
‘You're in it,' Adak said, rudely interrupting which was not his normal manner, but he was getting fed up with doing this crazy sort of word dance around the subject as if the name, once spoken, would instantly provide what the speaker truly wanted. In this case, apparently, the most expensive suite in a private hospital, the most successful and omniscient doctors who would provide instant health for the patient. 'I done tol' ya, Intergal pulled everything out, including their infirm'ry when they gave the planet back to itself. At that, us Petaybeans have more than we ever had before,' and Adak gestured proudly around the Cube. It was not only clean and warm but bigger than any four of the biggest cabins in Kilcoole.
‘Now set yourself down and wait,' Adak shuffled the papers in front of him, making a good show of looking for something. Then he picked up the comunit and turned his back on the medic man as if this was a very private call. The guy finally copped on and moved away from the counter.
‘Thavian, didn't you tell him who I am?' wheezed the old man in the chair, pounding the arm-rest with a hand liberally covered with liver spots.
Surreptitiously, Adak shot him a glance. Guy didn't look too good, at that. All sunk in on himself. If he expected Petaybee to bring him back from whatever got him that way, he was asking for a miracle. That was sure. And, as far as Adak had ever heard, you couldn't pay for miracles: they just happened in their own good time. Like the great big mountain that
Petaybee thrust up in the middle of the landing field… and then swallowed back up six weeks ago.
Fortunately, just as Adak himself was getting twitchy, he spotted a trio of cats bouncing through the snow and the bulk of a fur-clad Clodagh lumbering behind them. Looking from her to the immaculately dressed medical folk - even the patient had on fine threads and was bundled in the amazingly coloured pelts that no animal on Petaybee ever grew, Adak was sadly aware of a vast difference in style and appearance between Petaybeans and visitors. Not that those fancy clothes were as warm and as suitable to Petaybee as his and Clodagh's practical, and indigenous, garments. And he almost hated to drop this problem in Clodagh's lap after all the ones she'd had with that Rock Flock which kept growing like some fields will grow rocks no matter how often you clear them off.
‘Slainte, Adak, what's up?' Clodagh asked as she threw open the door and let in a blast of cold air, which smelled refreshingly clean to Adak. He realized then that there was a fusty stink to the air in the Cube, due to the patient, no doubt and all the funny bottles and tubes in his floating chair.
‘I am Doctor Thavian von Clough,' the person said, eyeing Clodagh disdainfully. 'My patient is Secretary General Farringer Ball,' and a graceful hand introduced the patient. 'We were informed by a reliable source that mis planet has unusual therapies to assist my patient back to full health.’