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The FirstLevel Healers appeared and she listened to TQas report. She walked to the observation door and gave her own, handing over the blood samples and fluid belts. Ura Heather seemed satisfied, Lark Holly concerned. Lark said theyad come by in the evening, then Artemisia and TQ would be on their own throughout the night.
Late in the afternoon she heard a b.u.mping at the window and looked over to see cats sitting outside it, staring at Garrett.
Their mouths opened and they yowled in chorus.
aStop that!a she snapped, then, aSoundproof the room, TQ!a Silence descended with only the sound of Garrettas harsh breathinga"and his joints cracking as he struggled to get out of bed. aFeeding time,a he gasped. aMust feed ferals. Cats on the bus? Do we have food? Grisc?a He looked to the window, blinked around crusty lashes. aI hear you already. What are cats doing on the front of the bus?a Artemisia was amazed to see Garrett stagger toward the window. She grasped his unsteady body, using Flair to get him back in bed.
He tussled with her. aMust feed feral Fams!a aIall take care of it! TQ, the cats must be speaking to him telepathically. Tell them Iall be right out!a aI am repeating that announcement through an outside speaker,a TQ said.
Garrett blinked again. aDinni? You donat know the cats.a His head shook ponderously. aNot Dinni.a aNo, but Iall take care of the cats.a She didnat want to send him into his tormenting past. aTime for a little break, isnat it?a He sat against pillows as if they were a driving seat, his fingers curled like they held a steering stick.
aRest, get your strength up,a she said.
aTo make the trip.a He glanced along the wall. aDinni is still there. Old Grisc is sick.a aWe can do this.a Garrettas shoulders set, his jaw firmed. aWill do this. Dona like the looks of that shelf road. Might crumble behind us. Gotta go fast as we can . . .a Artemisia shuddered, then counted every second as she was decontaminated and drew on new clothes. Once TQ told her that she was Iasc-microbe free, she teleported out to the back gra.s.syard.
Cats circled her, staring.
Eleven.
TQas actoras voice lilted indulgently. aThe SecondLevel Healer is coming to feed you, please wait.a aIam here,a Artemisia said.
A short growl and inimical glare from a black-and-white tom.
aHe says you have no food in your hands,a TQ said.
aYou can speak with them telepathically?a she asked.
aNot quite,a TQ said. aBut I have had cat Fams within and can read their body language.a Artemisia glanced around until she spotted a series of scrystones that TQ must be using to view them, and a speaker.
A spotted kitten gamboled up. aPppht, phht, fhhoot!a aFood?a She frowned, glanced at TQ. aIsnat he too little for dry food?a aHe will eat a bit, but will also be fed by his mother.a aOh.a She stared at the line of bowls on the deck under the Houseas overhang but saw no food. Turning, she caught the glimmer of more eyes in the bushes.
aThe cats who live here are hungry and want to eat before the dogs and others come.a aAll right, all right. Whereas the food?a aIn the small south-side porch,a TQ said.
And Artemisia realized she was irritated. Instead of being annoyed, she should bless the distraction for getting her outside, letting her feel colorful comfort.
She moved to the window to check on Garrett. He was adriving.a Sweat slid down his face.
aI must get back,a she said.
aHis vital signs have not changed,a TQ rea.s.sured her.
A door clicked unlocked. As she walked to the south, spellshields vanished and a pale turquoise forcegla.s.s door opened.
Artemisia sighed and went into the porch made of the same tinted gla.s.s. She smiled. The House-becoming-a-Residence was optimistic in all its ways, including cheerful tinting.
There was a bin with a slanted top. Inside was a huge bag of dry aMulti-Fam Tasty Fooood!a She didnat think so. aIs thisa"a she began but stopped when she saw cats lining up near the door. aI guess it is.a Using Flair, she lifted the bag and filled ten bowls to the rim.
Gobbling noises filled the air.
aGentleSir Primross does this every day?a she asked, looking at the motley sizes and shapes of the FamCats, the scruffiness of the dogs whoad appeared.
aTwice a day,a TQ affirmed.
aHeas more generous than I thought.a A thin black cat lifted his muzzle, stared at her, made sounds she couldnat decipher.
TQ chuckled. aThe cats say this is payment for information.a aHmm.a Artemisia put the bag back and looked longingly at the late-afternoon summer sunlight. aHowas he doing?a aI would inform you if he had problems,a TQ said.
As she nodded and left the porch, a plump calico trotted up and swished across her legs.
aThe cats also get petting,a TQ said.
aOh.a Artemisia crossed to a bench that was half in and half out of shade. The sun felt good, but shead get hot soon if she stayed in it, and she didnat want to spare any Flair to shield herself from rays.
She was enjoying petting the cat when the black-and-white tom strolled up, growled at the calico, swatted her rear, and took her place. Other cats sauntered up in a raggedly s.p.a.ced line, waiting their turn, and grooming.
Stroking the cats, rubbing the dogsa"who were at the last of the linea"helped Artemisia relax even more. And as she saw the cats arrange themselves in the sun or shade as they pleased, she thought of the small cat in TQas HouseHeart.
aFeral Fams?a She projected her voice.
They all looked at her.
aGentleSir Primross must like you very much.a A couple sniffed, most revved their purrs. The dog she was petting swiped her hand with his tongue. aIf you like him, you might want to send him any energy you can spare during his sickness.a At that two of the cats jumped upon the wide sill outside the MasterSuite bedroom window and stared in. Artemisia could feel their supporta"mental, emotional, physical, even Flaira"being trans.m.u.ted to Garrett.
Which reminded her it was time to step back into his nightmares.
She stood slowly, absorbing all she could of the peace in the gra.s.syard. Then with a sigh, she teleported into her dressing room.
And saw the spotted kitten on the bed with Garrett.
aWhat are you doing here?a she demanded.
I am his Fam, the kitten insisted.
aTQ?a she asked.
aHe teleported through the window. I think a Fam will be good for Garrett.a The kitten looked at the four cats on the windowsill and lifted his small brown nose. I will give him MORE love, MORE energy, than They. Because I want to be FAM with him. A loud sniff. They come and They go and They eat and get little pettings from him, but I will give more and get more!
She certainly heard him clearly and didnat know if that meant he was more Flaired than the others or he was more interested in telepathically speaking with her.
aWhat about your mother?a She does not want to be a Fam. I do.
aArenat you too younga"a No. This is MY FamMan. With a rough purr, he curled up in the curve between Garrettas shoulder and head and flicked a tongue out at Garrettas jaw, then sent her an accusing gaze.
He needs washing.
She supposed he dida"and his fluids belt changed and his blood taken again. But the man appeared to have subsided into sleep, though his fingers fisted and released and he mumbled.
Narrowing her eyes, she thought she saw the aura of the small cat impinging on Garrettas, helping him.
All to the good.
aAnimals donat get the Iasc sickness?a She knew that, but her voice raised in a question to TQ anyway.
aNo, Artemisia,a the House said.
After one last sigh, she got to work.
The next couple of septhours, she spent hands-on time with Garrett, wiping him down, rubbing ointments into his body, replenishing his fluids. The kitten watched her, and the Fams outside the window rotated.
Ura Heather and Lark Holly arrived after Artemisia had drunk her liquid meal and energizer, and they all discussed Garrett. Heather referred to him as the case or the experiment.
Opul Cranberry was continuing to do well.
Before the FirstLevel Healers left, Lark Holly said, aGet a few septhoursa rest, Artemisia. The Turquoise House will monitor GentleSir Primross.a aVery well,a Artemisia said.
aWe will return at TransitionBell,a Lark said.
aWhat!a Ura Heather exclaimed.
aMany of those with the Iasc sickness died during TransitionBell.a aAs many folk do,a Artemisia murmured.
aExactly, thatas why itas called TransitionBell,a Lark said. aI will be here, at least.a aI will, too,a Ura Heather gritted out, but Artemisia could tell that the womanas niece had forced her hand.
Without another word, they both teleported away.
aTQ, please wake me every two septhours to take GentleSir Primrossas blood.a aYou should call him Garrett,a TQ said.
aNot when heas my patient, and he didnat give me leave to do so,a she said primly.
aHe thinks you are beautiful,a the House said.
Artemisia snorted. aI doubt that.a Once again she dabbed his face clean of sweat, then arranged his pillows.
The kitten hummed approval, then curled by Garrettas shoulder. After a deep sniff, the little cat raised his muzzle and smiled. Smells nice. I like being in a warm, clean room, next to a nice-smelling man. My room, My FamMan.
aIam sure heall appreciate you,a she said. Whether the man knew it or not, he was making a family. If he appreciated the ferals for what they werea"unique and uncivilizeda"it was another reason why he didnat care too much for overcivilized n.o.ble humans and their rules.
Or was she making sense at all?
The long day of summer wasnat done, but she was exhausted. Two septhours of sleep sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.
She trudged toward her own bedroom, using real effort to push through the decontamination shield. After showering, she slipped into bed. Long, soft summer shadows patterned the back gra.s.syard with varying shades of green. At any other time, shead have gone to the window or even to the garden. Not now. She could only hope for instant and deep sleep and no nightmares. Watching Garrett fight his own demons, relive the first time of his sickness, was nightmare itself.
And more would come.
Her eyes remained open; she continued to strain for sounds of Garrett. The sickness was progressing as if head received germs through second- or third-hand contagion, not a pure, virulent injection.
TQ said, aYou need sleep. I will observe.a She was used to a sentient Residence, but one who knew how to use its atmosphere to Heal and when to alert humans. So she hesitated.
aDo you not trust me, Artemisia?a TQ asked softly.
aIam just not accustomed to you.a She bit her lip. She did need her sleep. aContact me if his temperature rises, if he has convulsions or fever dreams.a aYes, Artemisia.a aFine.a She shut her eyes. The insides of them hurt with dry strain. Rolling over, she buried her face in the familiar comfort of her pillow and let sleep take her away.
He was the main driver nowa"good thing he was a quick learner and had mastered the controls. Old Grisc had hack-coughed his way to the first row of the main compartment. Garrett hadnat bothered to shut the door of the cab. No reason. Head started sweating and shivering like all the rest of them.
Night had fallen and sleet started. This was going to be bad.
For a while, head felt as if head already survived this; reality had been misty around the edges. Head even caught a whiff of clean scent that lured him into thinking of hidden sacred s.p.a.ces. And head thought head seen a well-kept road before him, leading to a special, wondrous grove.
But now rain and ice spattered and his breath shuddered from him, fogging the windshield. Head have to go out and check the road and the vehicle.
Now there was only the trip and he was grimly determined to get this bus to help. Dinni was still alive, and so was the babe. They would live. So would he. If he fought hard.
So he did.
Artemisia woke before TransitionBell, made Garrett comfortable, did all her tasks, and tidied before the FirstLevel Healers arrived.
Then she gave her report and handed over all the fluid belts and blood vials. The work was tedious, but she kept her goal in the forefront of her mind. She was partic.i.p.ating in a project that might find a cure for the Iasc sickness. And she was ensuring her place on the staff of Primary HealingHall.
As minutes ticked to TransitionBell, they watched Garrett, and though his condition deteriorated, when the dawn came, he still lived.
The crises happened in the middle of the next day.
The trip would never end. He knew that now. He would be trapped, forever driving the sick and dying.
His eyes hurt. h.e.l.l, all of him hurt. He gripped the steering stick hard, peering through the thick fog before him.
Had there been fog before?
There was now, and ever would be. He was stuck.
And Dinni stood before him, sad faced as she so rarely was, tears dribbling down her cheeks and dripping into the mist with the scent of sickness, death, despair. She cradled and rocked her childa"her dead baby son. She was too pale. One last inclination of her head and she turned from him.
He knew shead walk away, as shead always walked away from him, and disappear into the mist. He didnat think he could bear it.
aDinni! Stay with me!a he yelled with all his might. He reached for her.