“Don’t mother me, Mayerd. I’m not old and decrepit.”
“No,” said Mayerd shrewdly, “but you’re about to meet a fourth-generation ancestor who’s years younger than you are, and for all you know a raving beauty who’ll steal Ford’s heart away and leave you withering in the blast of dead passion.”
Sassinak whooped, and her tension dissolved in an instant. “You - That’s ridiculous!”
“True, O Captain. So are some other people. Done grieving for Huron yet, or are you still feeling so guilty you can’t enjoy your many admirers?”
“You’re making me blush. None of your business, I’d say, except it is, since you’re my physician. Well, yes, I have enjoyed normal - or at least pleasurable - involvement in the last few weeks.”
“Good. About time. That boy Tim’s in awe of you, by the way, so I hope you’re going to let him back into your good graces sometime.”
“Already done, fairy godmother, so let me be.”
“Back to Kai, then. The toxin destroyed nerve tissue, so he’s got sensory deprivation on some areas of skin - nasty, because he doesn’t know when he’s hurt himself. Where the tissue’s not destroyed, it’s stimulated - just like pain, but the brain can’t register constant stimulus like that, so he just gets these odd stabs and twinges, and a general feeling of something very wrong, very deep. His blood count’s off, which probably causes the exhaustion you noticed, and he’s not sleeping well, which doesn’t help. I offered to slap him in one of the big tanks, and let him sleep it off until we got him to Sector, but he refused. Which, in this case, took considerable guts, despite that display while you ran the tape.”
“Umm. It bothered me, particularly in someone in his position.”
“That Varian’s got enough bounce for two,” said Mayerd; Sassinak could detect the faintest trace of distaste, and knew that Mayerd would always prefer a patient to a patient’s healthy friend. With that in mind, she suggested that Mayerd visit the survivors that afternoon, when the diagnostic unit had finished meditating over Kai’s condition.
“I’d already thought of that. They’ll need clothes… you were planning a formal dinner, weren’t you?”
“To show off, yes.” Sassinak chuckled. “You mind-reader: people will think you’re a Weft if you keep that up. Raid my closet, if you need anything I’ve got - there’s a red dress that might suit Varian.”
“I’ve got a green that will be perfect for Lunzie,” said Mayerd smugly. “And all Kai’s measurements, so I’ve already located something for him.”
By the time Mayerd stopped by to show Sassinak what she’d chosen, on her way to the sled, the stewards were giving Sassinak sideways looks that meant they’d like her to clear out so they could set up for dinner. She had elected to serve in her office, a more intimate setting than the officers’ mess.
“I’m going, I’m going,” she said, grinning at the cook as he came to survey the room’s layout, with an eye to planning service. She stopped by the bridge, where everything seemed to be under control, and discovered that most of them knew about her ancestress… after all, she hadn’t told Ford or the others to keep it a secret. She worked through the day’s reports, noting replies to some queries back to Sector, and some pending - she’d hoped to have more information for Kai and Varian tonight, but apparently not. Something might come in any time, of course. Finally Arly caught her attention and pointed to the clock. Time to be getting ready - but she’d cleared most of her work, and would start the morrow only slightly behind.
As she went to her cabin to clean up, she found she could not quite analyze her emotions. Lunzie… another Lunzie. No, not another Lunzie, butthe Lunzie. That hardly seemed fair to her little sister - but then nothing had been. She wouldn’t think about that, she told herself, and poured another dollop of shampoo on her hair. Thank the gods that the cruiser didn’t have to use Iretan water!
But what would she be like? What could she be like? More like someone her elapsed age, or more like an old lady… a very, very old lady? She had the file holo… but that told her little. Her own file holo, the still one, didn’t tell a viewer that much. Movement was so much of a person - she thought of this, wringing out her hair, and flipping it into a towel with easy practiced gestures. No two people even bathed alike, dried themselves alike… and what if her ancestress turned out to be prudish about sex? That thought brought a blush to her cheeks. She looked at herself in the mirror, thinking of Mayerd’s teasing remarks. What if she wasn’t… what if she had Sass’s own casual attitude… and after all Ford was very good looking. No. Ridiculous. Here she hadn’t even met her, and already she was thinking of that kind of rivalry with her great-great-great-grandmother?
Besides, Mayerd would be back before then, and could tell her - if she would, because doctors did stick together - and would it be worse, Sassinak asked herself suddenly, to lose a family because of long coldsleep, as Lunzie had certainly done, or gain one because someone down the line was alive when you awoke? She eased into the long black slip that fit under her formal evening dress uniform, and began assembling it: the black gown, skirt glittering with tiny stars, and the formal honors winking on the left breast of the bodice. Somehow the formals, jeweled as they were, seemed more remote from the events that earned them than the full-size medals that jingled softly on a white-dress suit. This was the first time she’d pinned the formal rank jewels of Commander on the shoulders; the last time she’d worn this outfit, she’d been a Lieutenant Commander at Sector Headquarters, on duty at a diplomatic ball. The long, close-fitting black sleeves were ringed with gold: the captain of the ship, even in evening dress.
A last look - the merest touch of color on her lips - and she was ready. The proper twenty minutes before the guests would arrive, and there was Mayerd, also ready, and Ford. They grinned at each other, and Sassinak resisted the temptation to check on her office. Ford would have done it. She congratulated Ford on the increased “coverage” of his chest… he had picked up more than a few impressive medals, in the years since she’d seen him last. Mayerd wore her Science Union badge, and the little gold pin that meant honor graduate of the best medical school in the human worlds. They chatted idly, waiting at the head of the ramp, and Sassinak was very aware that both were watching her closely, to catch her reaction to Lunzie. They’d said nothing except that her relative would “suit” her.
“There it is - “ Ford gestured, and Sassinak caught a moving gleam in the darkness. Hard to see which was which, with so many bits of light shifting around, but Ford, as usual, was right. A four-seater airsled settled gently near the foot of the ramp, and the honor guard jogged out into place. Sassinak wondered, suddenly, if she should have gone quite this far without warning them… civilians, after all… but they seemed to understand what the shrill piping whistle meant. And the crisp ruffle of drums.
Varian and Lunzie, long skirts swirling in the wind, led the way up the ramp past a rigid honor guard. Sassinak could tell they were impressed, though she had trouble keeping her eyes off Lunzie’s face: she hadn’t wanted to stare like that since she was a first-year cadet. Instead, she pulled herself up and saluted: appropriate to the planetary governor and her staff, but they’d all know it was for Lunzie. Varian gave a quick dip of the head, like a nervous bird, but Lunzie drawled a response to her greeting and offered a firm handshake.
For a long moment they stood almost motionless, then Lunzie retrieved her hand, and Sassinak felt a bubble of delight overcoming the last bit of concern. She would have liked this woman even if she hadn’t been a triple great-grandmother - and she’d have to find an easier way to say all that. They had too much to say to each other! She grinned, cocking her head, and Lunzie’s response was too quick to be an attempt to mimic - it was her natural gesture, too.