Eternity's Mind (68 page)

Far out in space, Collin rode with Arita in the
Prodigal Son
as they departed from the Iswander extraction field. Delighted to receive the message through telink, the young green priest grabbed Arita. “They know how to cure Reynald! The Onthos memories showed us the right plant—an extract to be used as a molecular block against the microfungus inside of your brother.” He grinned.

Arita was so delighted that she threw her arms around him. “What is it? What did we miss before?”

“We didn't miss it. It was right in front of us—an elusive plant, but the researchers had so many possibilities to test. Now they just need to find a sample. Where are your botanical record books?”

Arita called up images in her logs, all the specimens she had catalogued in her many years of studying the worldforest. She and Collin scrolled through countless plants, and Arita guided him through her personal organization structure, searching for the correct white flower. Collin pointed vigorously. “That one. That is what the Gardeners say we need to find for Reyn.”

It was a creamy white vine orchid that the original settlers had named a starflower. It was ethereal and transient, blooming for only a day and then disappearing, though its root systems lay hidden for years. “I know that flower.”

All the information that Zoe Alakis had given them from Pergamus had sent the medical researchers on the right track, but it was the Gardeners' restored knowledge that had brought out the singular answer.

“The medical researchers need to extract the cure from a starflower root,” Collin repeated what he learned through telink, “but unless the plant is blooming, a starflower is impossible to find.” He frowned. “And starflowers rarely bloom.…”

Arita brightened. “Wait, at the funeral for Father Idriss a year ago, starflowers bloomed over his fresh grave. They are long gone now, but the roots will still be there until the next blossoming. The green priests know where it is, my parents know where it is! They can get the roots from there and save Reyn.”

She beamed. “Send the message, tell them how to cure him.” She looked up, called to Garrison in the cockpit. “Can we go back to Theroc? I want to be there as my brother recovers.”

Garrison smiled. “We'll take you home.”

*   *   *

The
Prodigal Son
landed on the treetop canopy, and Osira'h hurried out to greet the ship, leaving Reynald's bedside for the first time in days. Arita embraced the Ildiran halfbreed, exuberant with their news about how they had discovered Eternity's Mind and how the shadows were finally defeated.

But she had other business first. “Let me see Reyn. How is he recovering?”

“Follow me,” Osira'h said. “He wanted to come see you himself, but he still doesn't have all his strength. I would not let him get out of bed.” She gave a small smile. “I tend to be very protective right now. But the doctors say that the new treatment has cleansed the contamination from him. If you hadn't told us where to find the starflower…” Osira'h looked tired, but happy. “I haven't felt this joyous or mentally exhausted since the end of the Elemental War.”

Osira'h led them to Reyn's recovery chambers in the fungus-reef. Her brother had gotten out of bed and sat at his desk. Arita hurried over to sweep him into a hug as he rose to his feet.

Osira'h grabbed his shoulder. “Not so fast. Do not strain yourself.”

Arita felt just as concerned. “You should be in bed resting.”

“I've already spent too much time in bed,” Reyn said. “I feel stronger than I have in a year. Just let me bask in my health.”

Osira'h put her arms around him. “I plan to take most of the credit for your recovery.”

“A lot of people can share that credit.”

A thin pinch-faced man appeared in the doorway bearing a tray of food and surrounded by an aura of officiousness. The aromas of the dishes surrounded him like tantalizing, mouthwatering music. “Excuse me, I have a delivery of food for the Prince—and his companions.” The man looked around the room, as if disappointed at how many mouths there were to feed. “I am Zachary Wisskoff from the Arbor restaurant.”

“We didn't order any food,” Reyn said. “But it smells delicious.”

“It's supposed to smell
invigorating,
” Wisskoff said. “I chose the items after careful consideration. Rlinda Kett sent a message informing me that I was to take care of you until she arrives.”

Reyn brightened. “Rlinda's on her way?”

“Yes, apparently she intends to take a more active role in restaurant management. She just survived the Shana Rei in the Fireheart nebula, but now for some reason she is worried about Arbor. Her ship is on its way to Handon Station for repairs, but she will be here soon to look over my shoulder.” He added in a cool, deadpan voice, “As you can tell I am thrilled at the prospect.” He heaved a noisy breath, let it out. “She instructed me to make the best possible meal for you, so you can regain your strength.”

Osira'h, Arita, and Collin cleared the desk so they could set out the meal Wisskoff had brought. The man bustled about with unnecessary attention to detail to make sure that all the dishes were served with the proper perfection. When the meal had been laid out, he stood back and watched as they ate with great gusto. The smells were wonderful.

Wisskoff seemed to be waiting for something. “Although Rlinda did not specify, I believe she does not intend for there to be a charge for the food.”

Reyn looked up. “Thank you very much.”

The man's smile was as thin as a sheet of paper. “I'll be sure to let Rlinda know, so she can add your gratitude to the account. If there is nothing else?”

Osira'h was enjoying a dish of stewed pollen-filled stamens from treelilies, while Arita and Collin ate roasted butterbeetles right out of the shells. They all remarked on the delicious tastes.

“Thank you again,” Reyn said. “We'll be certain to tell Rlinda when she arrives.”

“You're welcome, I'm sure.” Wisskoff departed.

When he finished eating, Reyn picked up the documents he had been reading. “Summaries of the recent events in the Spiral Arm. If I'm going to be the next King, I have to learn how to lead people.”

Osira'h hugged him again. “One of the most important things you can do as King is make sure you have a solid alliance with the Ildiran Empire. Therefore, you should stick with me.”

Reyn hugged her back … and then Arita wanted part of it, and then Collin was hugging
her.
Osira'h didn't need the light of the seven suns to know how bright the future was.

 

CHAPTER

132

XANDER BRINDLE

Back at the site of Rendezvous—
Handon Station,
Xander corrected himself—more ships came in every day. Finally one brought the long-awaited medical-analysis reports that Xander had secretly requested.

He compiled his full case for Terry, wanting to be sure he had all of the options and all of the risks. Xander had to be as convincing as possible, although he wasn't sure Terry wanted to be convinced.

After their side trip to Theroc to bring Arita and Collin home, the
Prodigal Son
had flown back to Rendezvous, and Garrison resumed his admin duties. He got to work organizing all the new arrivals and ranking the necessary repairs, assigning teams to the vessels that could be most quickly returned to service. Even with the cessation of bloater harvesting, the market for new and repaired ships was going to be huge. Xander had no doubt that Handon Station would thrive, and the two of them would triple their fortune.

Orli set up her shop for compy maintenance and program upgrades. She was quite content to be with Garrison. DD was her ever-faithful companion, and Seth Reeves seemed to be a budding genius himself, eager to help Orli with the compies. Xander was glad Handon Station could provide the opportunity.

He looked out at the screens on the control center walls. The souped-up
Verne
was docked in the thick of all the busy traffic. Omar Selise returned with another haul of salvage from Relleker, clearly impatient. “Do you have it yet, Brindle?” he said in an open transmission while they were inside the main control center. “I've got to know.”

Xander drew a breath and replied to the old clan leader on the comm. “I compiled a full report for Terry to consider. You can look it over and make your own decision.”

“I want to be damn sure. This is my grandson we're talking about.”

“I understand completely. Here it is.” Xander transmitted the data while Terry stared at him wide-eyed.

“What is he talking about? What are you two scheming? You and Omar aren't even friends.”

“We have some things in common.” He straightened. OK stood silently by. Xander had taken a lot of time to convince the compy to keep the secret, and OK had admirably kept the confidence. But now it was out in the open.

“All right, explain it to me!” Terry said, sounding exasperated. “If it's good news, go ahead and ruin the surprise. If it's bad news, I can handle it.”

“What if it's just something serious I want you to consider?”

“Of course I'll consider it. We're partners. You and I have been through enough. I'd just like to get back to normal and have some calm stability so that the only headache I have to worry about is running our new station.”

Xander swallowed hard and began to explain. “Omar has a grandson with a degenerative spinal condition very similar to yours. That's what this is about. I've got something to ask you. Come with me to the galley—I hope you keep an open mind.”

Terry maneuvered very well without the use of his legs in the asteroid's low gravity. The analysis reports he had received were a mixed blessing; some touted enthusiastic successes, some failures, some extremely happy customers (which may have been faked or otherwise solicited), and some disappointments. There were clearly risks. It would have to be Terry's decision.

OK said to him, “I wish you the best of luck, Xander Brindle.”

Terry had taken a seat at the galley table, fidgeting with his fingers. Xander activated a screen, called up his files, and jumped right in. He had put this off long enough already. “I'm going to present you with a medical possibility for restoring your legs. It's expensive, and it's risky. There are possible side effects.” Xander turned to look at his partner. “And I think it might be real.”

Terry frowned. “There's no cure for my condition. I've been through all that, had every one of the tests. And I moved on a long time ago.”

“But something's changed—two things, actually. There's been continuing research in a new treatment process that shows promise. The other thing that's changed is that we can
afford
it now, no matter how much it costs.”

“How come I haven't heard about this research before?” Terry asked.

“It's not exactly orthodox. I won't kid you, the primary researcher had some connections to Rakkem.”

“
Rakkem?
Then the answer is no.”

“Everything about Rakkem wasn't corrupt or useless.” He displayed the report. “I tracked down several patients who have had the procedure, people who suffered from a similar condition … the same one Omar Selise's grandson has. The treatment didn't always work—I won't lie to you—but the success rate is better than fifty percent. I want you to be realistic about the pain and the recovery.”

“And what if it fails?” Terry said.

“Then you'll be in the same condition you are now, and at least I'll know that we tried everything.”

“Side effects?”

“Serious tremors, possibly. Loss of vision in a few rare cases. It's not a walk in the park.” Xander winced as he realized how blithely he had mentioned “walking.”

Terry skimmed through the files, but didn't seem to be interested. Instead, he was frustrated. “We've talked about this over and over again. I'm excited about the good things happening here, but I don't understand your obsession to fix me. Have I led you to believe that I'm unhappy? That I'm somehow desperate enough to take risks like that?”

“I just thought that you'd want it,” Xander said. “I keep trying to think of something I could do for you, something you could do for yourself, with all the money from Maria.”

“I'm happy with who I am.” Terry gestured generally toward the walls of the room. “And when I'm out there, with the salvage yard and the repair facilities, I'm just as capable as anybody else. Does it bother
you
that I can't walk?”

“No!” Xander felt he was tied in knots, and he realized he was crying. “I was just doing it for you.”

“I'm fine, really.” Terry reached out to clasp his forearm. “I don't feel like I'm any less of a person. I wouldn't risk the pain, the recuperation time away from you, and what if something went wrong with the treatment? Tremors or blindness? Honest, I'm happy as I am.” He looked up. “Aren't you?”

“Yes, I'm perfectly happy, and I'm happy with you.” He gave Terry a tight embrace, and they held on to each other for a long time.

Xander explained about Omar's grandson, who was considering the same treatment, waiting for the more thorough investigation in light of the huge expense involved.

Terry said, “Then I'll pay for it. If that's what Omar and his grandson really want to do—once they've reviewed all the possibilities and drawbacks—we'll give them the funds.”

Xander felt a rush of happiness. “That would be wonderful. But it has to be their decision.”

“It will be,” Terry said, and responded with an unexpected quirk of a smile. “Now, it may surprise you that I haven't been entirely ignoring my situation either. I've been thinking of a few other options myself.” He called for OK to come in to the galley. “I've got some news of my own, Xander.” He grinned. “I guess it shows just how much you and I understand each other. But I found an alternative solution.”