Clodagh squatted down so that her face was on a level with Ball's. 'Slainte, Farringer,' she said softly. 'You looked better on the comscreen. What's wrong?’
Ball wheezed and looked at Clodagh from under lowered eyebrows. 'That's apparently supposed to be for you to find out, young woman.’
He looked startled at Clodagh's laugh which was not only ripplingly young but beautiful.
‘Thanks for the "young" ' she said, patting his hand companionably.’
‘It wasn't intended as a compliment,' Dr von Clough replied stiffly, eyeing Clodagh not only with distaste but patronizingly.
Clodagh shrugged, unconcerned. Before any of the medical team could intervene, she had her fingers on Ball's wrist. She stooped so she could look him squarely in his lined and sad face, and tut-tutted. She pinched a flap of skin on his arm and observed the rate of its relaxation.
‘You're real tired, aren't you?’
‘The Secretary General is suffering from a serious PVS condition
She nodded. 'Real tired.' Straightening and standing she added, 'He should stay here awhile.’
‘That's what Luzon said, though he wouldn't say why,' Ball wheezed.
‘Him?' Clodagh snorted derisively. 'Just goes to show you anybody can do something right once in a while. Don't suppose he meant to. But the joke'll be on him. How'd you all get here? Whit Fiske said the PTS was grounded.’
‘Why, the Secretary General has a private launch for the necessary travel he must’
‘On SpaceBase? Now?’
‘Of course it is.’
‘Good, then you can all stay there and I think I can find space for Mister Ball…’
‘But… but this… individual… said you had no hospital facilities.' Von Clough regarded Adak accusingly.
‘Don't need them. So far, folks have found the whole planet pretty healthy - good food, good air, nobody havin' to take on more'n they can handle. Sick folks can rest when they need to, exercise if they need to. That and a bit of a tonic seems to do the trick. You might say the whole planet's a hospital facility, only it's so good at it, everybody stays pretty well so's you'd never notice,' Clodagh said, speaking slowly as if turning over the words she spoke in her own mind at the same time. 'I never thought about it before, but now that I do, it's true.' She made an expansive gesture which included everything outside the Cube. 'We got everything a human body should need to keep well or cure what's ailing.’
Von Clough's eyes bulged with indignation.
‘Mind you, Farringer, you were a little late comin' but I still think we can help you out.' She eyed the apparatus with as dubious a glance as von Clough had awarded her. 'Right now, of course, as we're getting started, we have to make do with what we've got.' She indicated the Cube. 'We're organizing slow but sure.’
‘So, where can the Secretary General go?’
‘The school at Kilcoole doesn't need all the rooms in their Cube yet,' she said. 'We're kinda short of places to put people since Doctor Luzon', and Clodagh paused to grin, 'has been so good as to send us so many unexpected guests. But we'll find a place for Farringer, since he's so bad off. If you wanted to help, Doctor, the men could use more hands to build more houses, unless you thought you could get some more of these for the new folks,' she indicated the Cube,' specially now we're getting seasonal blizzards…’
‘Seasonal blizzards?' von Clough's eyes bulged from their sockets again as he saw what was slanting past the window area - as thick and earnest a snowfall as the season provided.
Clodagh cocked her head at von Clough, smiling her beautiful smile. 'Since these Cubes are probably more like the environment Farringer's used to, you might ask the Cube-builder to send him one. Meantime, we'll get him started mendin'.' Low mutters of disapproval were exchanged among the lesser minions while von Clough sputtered with renewed outrage.
‘But, we're in attendance on the Secretary…’
‘Now don't fuss,' Clodagh said irrepressibly. 'You can use his space launch to come visit whenever you want.’
Farringer Ball tried to insert a comment here but a bout of coughing required all his attention and the discreet dials on the back of his invalid chair started to dance about.
Clodagh took a bottle from one of her capacious pockets, uncorked it, and then produced a carved wooden spoon. Before his medical advisers could protest, Clodagh had slipped a dose into Ball's mouth. He swallowed in spite of himself. Instantly the cough subsided and weakly Ball waved a hand in gratitude.
‘Is this what Colonel Maddock took?' he asked when he had regained his breath, with something of the air of a schoolboy asking his grandmother about mythical animals.
Clodagh nodded. 'Can't beat it.' Obviously swallowing his pride, von Clough executed the barest of civil bows to Clodagh and held out his hand for the bottle.
‘What, may I ask, are the constituents of this preparation?’
Clodagh shrugged again. 'This 'n' that,' she said vaguely. 'Important thing is, it works pretty fast. Long-term results take more time though.’
Von Clough uncorked the bottle and delicately sniffed, blinking at the aromatics that caressed his nostrils. Then he looked at Ball who was still recovering from the spasm of coughing although his breathing was less ragged with every passing moment.
‘Amazing. Really remarkable.' He passed the bottle to one of the minions.
‘We've been tryin' to tell you,' she said as if talking to a child who'd just burnt himself. 'Petaybee's good for most people. Hardly anybody gets sick ever. If you want health, it only makes sense to go someplace healthy.' Her conviction and clarity in the face of so much pretension and general dogcrap made Adak want to cheer.
‘S'truth, too,’ he said whether anyone cared for his opinion or not.
23
‘Neva-Marie? Looks like we got ourselves a situation here.' Johnny Greene spoke calmly and soothingly enough to quiet any of the savage beasts who were circling. 'We're up to our collective arse in planet-rapers, polar bears and pumas, so to speak… How many what?… Oh, planet-rapers? Oh, a couple hundred or maybe a little less… Nope, sorry, I'm not going to count the polar bears and pumas for you. Let's just say there's enough, shall we?… My position is about - ummm - a hundred and fifty miles south south-west of Bogota, pretty much in the middle of nowhere special. It's flat, it's dark, and me, Mr and Mrs Ondelacy and the Town Council as well as little Cita Rourke got ourselves surrounded first by these planet-rapers, then somehow or other got our position reinforced by the polar bears and the pumas and other associated species. It's dark. It's cold. We want outta here muy pronto… I damn sure know I drive the only winged beast in the vicinity but we need help fast. I don't care how. There's too many here to take out and I don't have the fuel to run a ferry service between here and Bogota and I - er - rather suspect the planet-rapers would take it ill if I tried to leave without them. Besides, goodness only knows what they'd do to the polar bears… Well,'' don't know what you're supposed to do, sweetheart. Call Adak to call Sean and see if he's got any bright ideas. If Oscar O'Neill hasn't left the planet yet maybe he could lend a hand… Call Loncie's kids and tell them to send a dogsled posse. But hurry. There's a polar bear eyeing me lustfully even as we speak and I was saving myself for you. Out now, love. I really miss you.’
Tanana Bay
The dogsleds were loaded and the teams hitched and ready to go when Liam Maloney mushed in, accompanied by Dinah, his late mother's lead dog, and Nanook, most companionable of Sean's large track cats. Dinah, the good sled dog that she was, leapt up on Diego at once and began washing his face with a tongue that smelt like fish. Diego called her by name several times, looking over to see the effect on Dinah, but she, the human, didn't change expression.