Peter's expression altered from outright denial to thoughtful consideration.

"Look, Pete, you keep telling me that all you need is a place to stand. Right?" And when Peter hesitated, Johnny went on. "So you stand on Padrugoi and 'port to First Base. You'd have all that power available and that's megawatts more than you had for the monsoon caper. Even more than in Florida, until I made them upgrade the power system." Johnny's lips twitched, remembering just how quickly he'd been able to get funding for additional power once Barchenka started seeing the supply shuttles homing in. The b.i.t.c.h had been good for something.

"But that's still a lot of ma.s.s to shift!"

"Okay, so we shift ma.s.s!"

"We?" Peter caught him up on the use of that p.r.o.noun with an ironic grin.

"Yeah, yeah, this time I'd be in the 'port, I promise you' " and Johnny crossed his heart. "But I proved to you that you could shift something all the way to the Moon, didn't I? So, we build on that. We use windows when the Moon's at perigee in respect to the Station."

"That only cuts it down about fifty thousand klicks," Peter was still skeptical.

"Every bit helps," Johnny blithely reminded him. "Or," and he pretended to submit a second option, "we could send lighter components. Rea.s.sembly's an option, you know. First Base has the technicians."

"Is Lance back up there?"

"No, but he could be," Johnny rea.s.sured him. "We could push and Lance could catch. No matter how little or how much we send on its way, First Base is that much further ahead. Look, it's put-up or shut-up time, Pete. Fuel's just gone up in cost and you know how much those guzzling freighters take to break loose from the Padrugoi orbit. Dirk's counting on you, too. If we don't show the s.p.a.ce Authority a cheaper way to continue with our expansion into this system," and Johnny paused a beat to emphasize his next words, "they might abandon it entirely."

"No!" Peter jerked upright at that, staring in alarm at the general, his face paling at the thought. Peter jerked upright at that, staring in alarm at the general, his face paling at the thought.

"Well, I wouldn't like that any more than you would, Pete. We'd both be out of the jobs we love. So, look this stuff over. Get familiar with the shape and ma.s.s of them. Think hard about just easing them," and Johnny linked his hands, emulating wings gliding through the air, "where they need to go." He dumped the pile of pictures onto Peter's lap. "h.e.l.l, for that matter," and this was an honest inspiration, "we could get them to set up a midway station. All I'm asking you to do now is think about it."

Peter looked over at the door and Johnny heard the click as he locked it. "People barge in here all the time." He activated the electrical unit that altered the bed into a sittingposition. He rearranged the pictures into a semicircle in the air around him.

"Whatever suits you, Pete." Johnny settled back down on the chair by the bed and, crossing his legs, idly swung one foot as his partner looked keenly at each picture.

There was a tentative knock on the door. "Who is it?" Johnny called.

"Nurse Roche," was the reply.

Peter's eyes rounded and he shook his head vigorously. Don't let her in! Don't let her in!

"Come back in a few minutes, Nurse," Johnny called, without interrupting the motion of his swinging foot. He kept his expression bland. "D'you think those girders will give us a problem?"

"Uh? Oh, no, I don't think so." Peter glanced back at the specs, glad to concentrate on them. "Those plasgla.s.s panels might. Odd shapes."

He hadn't looked at more than three sheets before there was another knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Johnny called.

"Dorotea and Amariyah," was the m.u.f.fled response.

"Oh, in that case, advance and be recognized," Johnny quipped, unlocking the door and standing up. He swept a low bow to the visitors, laden with flowers and Peter's favorite cookies.

Johnny didn't stay long after that but took the sheets with him. "Top secret, you know. 'Bye, now," and he waggled his fingers at Dorotea and Amariyah.

Peter was safe enough with them. However, the nurse he pa.s.sed on his way down the hall was a very attractive redhead. She had a determined look on her face as she stopped outside the room he had just left. He wondered if she were Nurse Roche.

Peter was released from hospital three days later, the orthopedic specialist astounded by the rapidity with which the fractures had knitted. The ribs and the humerus fracture were almost healed.

"Most unusual, most unusual," he said, frowning at the evidence on the scan monitor. "Especially with the presence of some osteopenia and muscle atrophy."

"He's good about his Board exercises, swims almost daily, and has been conscientious in taking supplements. He's never been sick," Rhyssa said. "Since he joined the Center, that is," she added hastily when the doctor's eyebrows rose in surprise. She was equally surprised but wondered if such rapid recovery was some facet of Peter's maturing Talent. He was bound and determined to leave the hospital at the earliest opportunity. Not that she blamed him, knowing his antipathy to a hospital environment. With all the visitors, he wasn't getting enough rest either but she couldn't exactly hint to the admiral or the mayor to suspend their kindly meant visits. "Since there is knitting, can he leave now? We'll take very good care of him, I a.s.sure you. We're just as anxious that he heals completely as you are. He spent so long in the hospital after the other accident, I know he'll progress much more rapidly at home."

"Highly irregular, Ms. Lehardt. Ordinarily I would insist that he went to a convalescent home where proper nursing care is available twenty-four hours."

"He isn't ordinary, Doctor," Rhyssa said gently, and the doctor flushed. "He'll do much better with Ms. Horvath, I a.s.sure you. She's an excellent nurse and very strict. She won't let him lift a finger." She smiled at her most radiant and charmingly insistent, and with firm mental a.s.surances.

"Medically I have no reason to keep him here," he said, tapping the scan's evidence. "It isn't as if he's on a course of medication."

Rhyssa was able to sense the reason the doctor wanted him to remain: he'd never had a chance to examine a parapsychic before. There had to be something something that would show up on a Somatosensory Evoke Potential. But he doubted he could get permission to do one. This kid was too well connected to be used as a guinea pig. Reluctantly he agreed and signed the release. that would show up on a Somatosensory Evoke Potential. But he doubted he could get permission to do one. This kid was too well connected to be used as a guinea pig. Reluctantly he agreed and signed the release.

Peter was nearly bouncing off the firm hospital mattress before the doctor was out the door.

"Hang on, will you, Peter? I've the Center ground vehicle in the parking lot. The hospital'll insist you go down on a grav-pad but don't . . . for Pete's sake," and she grinned at him, "fall out of your multiple-fracture role? Okay?"

He 'ported the clothes she had brought and she discreetly retired to the guest room while he put them on. Then she called for the transport and waited, Peter almost vibrating with antic.i.p.ation. It seemed to take a long time. Then both of them became aware of voices in the hall, growing louder and louder. She opened the door to see four nurses arguing, with some heat, as to who was to escort Mr. Reidinger. If Peter pulled his head back in dismay, he also came as close to levitating his body onto the grav-pad as made no difference. The other nurses followed them to the elevator, pleasantly chatting about how glad they were he was well enough to go home, that he was to take it easy and not overdo, and they were glad to have been of a.s.sistance to him.

Only when the ground vehicle swung away from the exit did he seem to relax into his seat with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "That glad to go home, Peter?" Rhyssa asked.

"You've no idea!" he said fervently.

7.

Rhyssa was especially grateful that he would be at Dorotea's during his convalescence. If Dorotea didn't have an eye on him, Amariyah would. Neither would let him do anything that might jeopardize the knitting of his broken bones.

Both Rhyssa and Dorotea thought that Admiral Coetzer's brief visit, three days later, prompted Peter's demand that he be allowed to work a light schedule.

"I listened," Dorotea said belligerently. She had been conspicuously in the garden when the Admiral arrived. "He has Peter's best interests at heart and it's obvious Dirk Coetzer misses the boy." Peter would always be a boy to Dorotea.

"What did he say?" Rhyssa asked anxiously. It was cold standing out in an unseasonably brisk September wind. "It's s.p.a.ce Authority who want medical updates on Peter, not the admiral."

Dorotea gave a dismissive sniff, settling back to her gardening stool while they were chatting. "Them! Coetzer didn't even mention work to Peter or ask for a time when he'd be able to work again. He remarked on seeing the old Andre Norton Andre Norton diagrams superseded by the diagrams superseded by the Arrakis Arrakis, recommended some books. Said that his downside leave was over. Never a mention that he applied for it the moment he heard from Madlyn that Peter'd been injured. Of course, I suppose he can administer the Station from wherever he is and possibly had meetings with s.p.a.ce Authority down here. I got the feeling," Dorotea remarked thoughtfully, "that he's having trouble with them."

"Bureaucracy in its usual obstructive role," Rhyssa said drolly. "Anything else?"

"Dirk Coetzer admires our Peter very much indeed. He was very nice to Amariyah, too."

"I'd expect that. Was she on her best behavior?"

Dorotea chuckled. "She quizzed the admiral rather closely about station hydroponics. He was startled but he recovered well and answered her quite fully."

"Did she mention her current ambition?"

"Of course, and Coetzer recommended the Controlled Environment Life Support System course at Columbia. There's one in Alaska, too."

Rhyssa grinned. "No matter what her rating is from Teacher, she still has to wait until she's eighteen."

"Then the admiral took a polite leave and departed to that fancy ground machine with the s.p.a.ce Authority emblem plastered all over it. The sort that glows in the dark." She paused. "Will you allow Peter some 'ports? He isn't sufficiently occupied right now despite everything Maree and I can invent. Even Tirla's running out of amusing incidents of trouble those yearling twins of hers get into."

"I know," Rhyssa said in a dire tone since Mischa and Miriam had been in her house with Rach.e.l.le while Tirla visited Peter. They made Eoin and Chester look like saints in comparison.

"I'll bet you do." Dorotea plunged her trowel back into the dirt, digging a small cavity for the hardy pansies she was planting. "I'd let Peter do something, Rhyssa."

"I will. Maybe he won't ask right away."

Peter did the same afternoon.

"I don't do do anything with my body." Peter argued with Rhyssa to give him some sort of work, no matter how limited. "I lie totally still when I 'port. You know I do. I'm sick and tired of being a convalescent."' He emphasized the word with contempt. "I'm bored with reading and watching the news. The current daytime programs are abysmal and I've memorized most of those old films and replays of the good cla.s.sics." anything with my body." Peter argued with Rhyssa to give him some sort of work, no matter how limited. "I lie totally still when I 'port. You know I do. I'm sick and tired of being a convalescent."' He emphasized the word with contempt. "I'm bored with reading and watching the news. The current daytime programs are abysmal and I've memorized most of those old films and replays of the good cla.s.sics."

"You should keep in touch with what else goes on in the world, Peter," Rhyssa said. She ignored the pile of visuals that he seemed to spend a lot of time reviewing.

"I watch the newscasts. But I need need to work!" He put a lot of feeling in that statement. "I was safer on Padrugoi!" he added sullenly. to work!" He put a lot of feeling in that statement. "I was safer on Padrugoi!" he added sullenly.

She accepted that remark with equanimity and yielded to the inevitable, getting Rick Hobson to replace the old generator outside Peter's room with a much heavier new one. Though Peter hadn't said it, she knew he was keen to get back to Padrugoi and further EVAs, or whatever that pile of visuals he kept examining represented. If doing some work delayed his return until his bones were fully healed, she must be grateful.

When the members of the fraternity that had disrupted his birthday celebration were brought to trial, his name-and that of the Eastern Parapsychic Center-was not mentioned. s.p.a.ce Authority's bureaucracy had so decreed. The restaurant actually filed the complaint and appeared as plaintiff. The severe fine, awarded to the restaurant, depleted the group's treasury and effectively disbanded them. Those whom LEO had charged with drunk and disorderly conduct were sentenced to three months' community service. Not all at the dinner had overindulged, though; as the judge remarked in delivering his verdict, they should have restrained their offending colleagues. The two who had crashed into Peter had heavier fines and were given a six months' sentence for the grievous bodily harm of an unidentified diner. One of them, a man in his middle years who had held the position of deputy chief in the fraternity, made certain allegations about what he'd do when he was free again. His threats, for that's what the listeners took them as, were duly noted down by Ca.s.s Cutler, who had attended the court hearings in her capacity as crowd-control empath.

In his third visit to Peter at Dorotea's, Johnny Greene brought Admiral Coetzer's representations to Rhyssa that Peter could actually return to Padrugoi: his welfare would be their constant concern.

"I know I'm being protective," Rhyssa told Johnny Greene and, seeing his expression, added, "possibly overprotective but the medical opinion is that we'd be smarter to let him heal both from the breaks and the trauma of the affair." overprotective but the medical opinion is that we'd be smarter to let him heal both from the breaks and the trauma of the affair."

"Trauma?" Johnny asked, eyebrows rising on his forehead. Then his expression of surprised dismay altered. "Well, I suppose it was. I certainly 'felt' how he hates hospitals. It's just that Coetzer needs him badly." He came to an abrupt halt.

Rhyssa caught something in his voice that sounded false. What are you up to now, Greene? What are you up to now, Greene?

He gave her a wide-eyed innocent stare.

And don't try that that on me. Let me guess. You and Coetzer need all that stuff Peter keeps looking at on the Moon, don't on me. Let me guess. You and Coetzer need all that stuff Peter keeps looking at on the Moon, don't you? Rhyssa said. you? Rhyssa said.

"Yeah, to be honest."

Rhyssa gave him a long hard look. "And you want that boy . . ."

"He's not a kid any longer, Rhyssa," Johnny interrupted. "And we both know I don't have Peter's heft."

"You think he could 'port as far as the Moon?" Privately Rhyssa thought Peter was capable of such a feat but that was loyalty speaking, unsupported by proof. They still hadn't reached the limit of his thrust.

"Lance thinks so," Johnny replied. "I do, too." It was not yet the time to tell her about Peter's Bollard Bag special lunar delivery.

"He isn't well enough," Rhyssa said almost too quickly. And flushed as Johnny c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her for her vehemence.

"We'll be glad to have him back when and as soon as he's well enough. Got any guesstimate I can placate Dirk with?"

"He's only been home two weeks. Give him another month. At least."

Johnny snorted in disgust, caught her determination not to let Peter be rushed, and nodded. "Three weeks maybe?" His expression beseeched her.

"Only if the scan shows those bones are completely knit."

"I thought they were! Okay, I'll just pop in and see how he's doing."

Peter was doing fine. When Johnny arrived, Amariyah was giving him his daily ma.s.sage. Since Peter wasn't yet allowed to continue his daily Reeve Board exercises, ma.s.sage with healing oils was at least an alternative pa.s.sive muscle toning. Amariyah had watched the therapist until she knew each of the movements and then insisted that she be allowed to help. The therapist had remarked on how strong her hands were.

"All that gardening," Peter said teasingly.

Despite his lack of physical sensations, Peter always felt better after a ma.s.sage. Oddly enough, Dorotea noticed that he wasn't as nervous with Amariyah as he was with the therapist, an attractive girl as well as an empath. Dorotea was also keen to have Amariyah take on a change of duty from Teacher and her garden. If she tended toward caring, that would be a good career for her and might nourish whatever Talent Amariyah had. Gardening was, in its own way, a form of nurturing.

"Well, hi there, skeleteam," Johnny said, peering into Peter's room.

"Heard you coming," Peter said, p.r.o.ne on the ma.s.sage plinth, not bothering to turn his head toward the visitor. "Any luck on getting me back up to Padrugoi?"

"Nope." Johnny sat himself down in the specially built chair in front of Peter's worktop. Idly he swung it about on its gimbals. "She's giving you another three weeks lounging around down here. Can't say as I blame her." He eyed Pete's long, bony frame, shiny from the oils used, a towel draped over his hips. "If you were up there, you'd be working your b.u.t.t off. Sorry, Amariyah."

The girl had given him a sharp frown.

Peter chuckled. "She doesn't want to lose her patient. Nags me all the time, she does."

"I don't," said Amariyah, her dark blue eyes protesting. "Dorotea's the one who nags at you. 'Eat this, have more of that. You're too skinny.' " Her mimicry of Dorotea's tone was perfect. Then she demonstrated the point, trying to pinch Peter's thin waist above the towel to show how little flesh there was. She then soothed the reddened spot.

"Are those ribs healed, Maree?" Johnny asked, noticing where she'd nipped him.

"Of course," she said. Then she stroked the other fractured places with comforting pats of her hand. "He was scanned two days ago. He is showing progress." With a deft flick of her arms, she flipped a long towel over Peter's p.r.o.ne body. "There. That is enough for today. You have Johnny to talk to. Would you care for some refreshments?" she asked, turning solicitously to the general.

"As long as it's home-baked," and Johnny licked his lips in antic.i.p.ation. "Don't get much of that up on Padrugoi."

"That is not what Peter tells us," she said as she left.

What is the situation on Padrugoi, Johnny?

The general grimaced with dissatisfaction. I've gone as far as I can go, Pete. The cargo corrals are bursting the edges of their nets. For the next exciting installment, we need you. In the new contract with s.p.a.ceShifters International, shipping costs went up eight percent. Not only do freighters require full crews, talk about feather-bedding-the thrust to get them under way guzzles fuel. Once a freighter's up to speed, it can drift down to the Moon, make a braking orbit, and use a brief burn to a.s.sume orbit. More to start back to Padrugoi. h.e.l.l, we could send down twice as much payload if we didn't have to use up so much cargo s.p.a.ce for fuel and all that extra crew. I've gone as far as I can go, Pete. The cargo corrals are bursting the edges of their nets. For the next exciting installment, we need you. In the new contract with s.p.a.ceShifters International, shipping costs went up eight percent. Not only do freighters require full crews, talk about feather-bedding-the thrust to get them under way guzzles fuel. Once a freighter's up to speed, it can drift down to the Moon, make a braking orbit, and use a brief burn to a.s.sume orbit. More to start back to Padrugoi. h.e.l.l, we could send down twice as much payload if we didn't have to use up so much cargo s.p.a.ce for fuel and all that extra crew.

An expense that you hope I'll be able to reduce?

You got it in one, Pete. That was when Johnny noticed that Peter's treasured picture of the That was when Johnny noticed that Peter's treasured picture of the Andre Norton Andre Norton was partially obscured by the was partially obscured by the Arrakis Arrakis and high-resolution shots of First Base and the moonscape surrounding it. and high-resolution shots of First Base and the moonscape surrounding it. Simulating Limo flights, huh? Simulating Limo flights, huh? He swung the chair about and ran a finger down one of the glide-pattern lines, ending at the First Base field and three lonely cargo containers, their hatches open to their emptiness. He swung the chair about and ran a finger down one of the glide-pattern lines, ending at the First Base field and three lonely cargo containers, their hatches open to their emptiness.

Well, it beats watching the tri-d.

Johnny grinned at Peter's sudden flush and decided that the kid was embarra.s.sed to be caught at it. No harm really, in his studying shuttle piloting when he had little else to do while healing.

You know, Johnny added casually, adding another bone for Peter to worry while he was convalescing, I've Johnny added casually, adding another bone for Peter to worry while he was convalescing, I've been doing some use-energy study on myself, like how many calories I burn when I'm lifting. Rather interesting. been doing some use-energy study on myself, like how many calories I burn when I'm lifting. Rather interesting. He took a pencil file from his blouse pocket and set it on the worktop. He took a pencil file from his blouse pocket and set it on the worktop. Here are Lance's study records of you, lifting this, that, and everything, here, there, and everywhere. I think you'll notice that you're much more economical, calorically speaking. Here are Lance's study records of you, lifting this, that, and everything, here, there, and everywhere. I think you'll notice that you're much more economical, calorically speaking.