Halian made no effort to chase him. His knees were weak with reaction, frustration and anger a bitter and debilitating taste in his mouth. He started to turn back, to recross the thorascrine and lose himself in the maze of corridors until the others could make the capture... but he'd taken only a couple of steps in that direction when the most chilling scream he'd ever heard jerked him around again. A dozen quick strides took him around the corner—
A hundred meters away Tomo was thrashing like a fish in the grip of two security guards.
Halian got to the scene in record time; but even so, Scharn and Ross managed to beat him. Tomo's whimpering rose to a final scream as Scharn reached between the guards with her hypo, a terrified shriek that left a ringing in Halians ears even after it faded into silence. A moment later the mainter's last twitchings ceased. Scharn said something Halian didn't catch, and the guards lifted the limp form and carried him toward the elevators. "Well?" a soft voice asked at Halians side.
The director jumped; he hadn't really noticed Ross come over. "No," he murmured bitterly. "I lost my nerve."
Ross said nothing, but gripped Halians arm briefly before hurrying to catch up with the others. Halian followed more slowly. All right, Doctor, he thought at Scharn's receding back. You've got your chance now. And you'd damn well better not mess it up like I did.
—
It was a long way up from the starless pit of unconsciousness, but there was something soothing in the darkness that removed any possible terror from the disorientation. Tomo had plenty of time to think and remember; and when he finally opened his eyes it was with total lack of surprise that he found himself lying in the lounge chair in his portside quarters. Attached to his right upper arm was a wide band, and he puzzled over it a moment before deciding it must be some sort of biosensory telemeter.
"Hello, Tomo."
He jerked at the quiet voice... but Scharn was only present via the viewer on his desk. "Hello, Doctor," he said, relaxing again.
"Sorry if I startled you," she apologized. "I wanted to talk to you and thought this would be the best way. How are you feeling?"
Tomo sighed. "Tired, mostly." He locked eyes with her image. "It's true, isn't it, what Max said. I've been conditioned to be afraid of people."
Scharn's lip twitched minutely. "More or less. That part wasn't done on purpose, but I don't suppose that's any comfort."
"Not really." Tomo closed his eyes, feeling almost relieved that it was over. No uncertainties remained; only cold, hard truth. "So that's it, then. I'll never be able to be with other people."
"Does that bother you?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. How can I miss something I've never experienced? It's just—" Something seemed to catch in his throat. "It's just that I know now that there's something normal people can do that I can't. It makes me... something less than human."
He opened his eyes in time to see Scharn catch her lower lip between her teeth. "There are a lot of things in this universe that some people can do that others can't," she said gently. "I could never spend years at a time alone on a starship— and even if I could, I wouldn't know the first thing about maintaining it. You can do both of those. It doesn't mean either of us is better or worse than the other; it just means we're different."
"Maybe." Tomo paused, steeling himself for the crucial question. "Are you going to let me go back to the Goldenrod?"
He saw her eyes shift left, and knew she was checking some of his physiological readouts: reading from his body's reactions the state of his mind. The thought of being laid open like that before her didn't bother him; briefly, he wondered if it should. "I don't think that'll be a problem," she said after a moment. "If it's what you want, of course."
"It is," he said. "It's where I belong. The only place I ever will belong."
"Some people spend all their lives trying to figure out where they belong," she pointed out softly. "At least you've got that much."
Tomo looked at her... and slowly it dawned on him that the gentleness in her voice was perhaps less professional technique than it was simply pity. "You don't need to feel sorry for me, Doctor," he told her. "I really do enjoy being in space... being who I am. It's just—well, I'd like to be able to face other people. Even if I never do it. You understand what I'm trying to say?"
"I think so," she nodded. "You're trying to expand the edges of your life, to push yourself as far as you can go."
He grimaced. "Looks like I'm already there, doesn't it?"
"Nonsense!" Scharn snorted with a vehemence that surprised him. "You're a human being, Tomo. No human being yet has ever found his own limits."
Echoes of his own words to Max, Tomo thought. He'd believed them then; now he wasn't so sure. "Um," he grunted noncommittally.
"I mean it. There'll always be new challenges for you—you'll see." Again her eyes shifted to the bio readouts, and when she spoke again her voice was back to its earlier quiet control. "I'm going to let you sleep now; give your body time to throw off the rest of the sedative. If you want to talk again later, I'll be available. If not, that's fine, too."
Fatigue was indeed tugging at Tomo's eyelids, but with an effort he forced them open again. There was one question he still wanted to ask. "Dr. Scharn? Would you tell me what it's like being dirtside?"
He caught just the briefest half-smile before his eyes closed again. "Mostly," Scharn said from the bottom of a long stairway, "it's very, very noisy."
Somehow, the answer seemed profound... but before Tomo could think about it, he was asleep.
— Scharn turned off the viewer with a sigh, letting the professional calm evaporate from her face as the ache she really felt flooded in to take its place. Yes, Tomo would be able to return to his ship; a couple more days of biochemical analysis on him would conclusively prove what she already knew, that he wasn't drifting into psychosis. A small spurt of growth in his personality—true, in an unexpected direction—was really all that had happened, and in the controlled environment of starship travel there would be no stimuli to encourage further development. Like a teenager's grandiose dreams of his future, Tomo's thoughts of mingling with humanity would quietly fade and die. The mainter would be content with his world again; the company that owned him would be pleased and would return to business as usual.
Owned him. Owned him.
And something in Scharn snapped.
She thought about it for a long minute, and then traced a curve on the control ball. "Yes?" Iris answered.
"This is Dr. Scharn," the psychiatrist said firmly. "Get me the Goldenrod's computer. I'd like to leave a private message for Tomo."
—
The Goldenrod launched on schedule, driving slightly out of the ecliptic plane and incidentally giving a grand view of Maigre in the rear viewer. "Well, that's it, Max," Tomo said, the deck feeling good beneath his feet. "Next stop, Canaan Under Vega. Docking equipment all secured?"
"Secured and shut down," the computer replied. "I'm running a check on deep-space functions, but so far everything registers normal."
"Good." Tomo watched the view of Maigre a moment longer, then picked up the cassette he'd earlier pulled out and placed by the control ball. He toyed with it, wondering if he really wanted to do this.
Max might have been reading his mind. "You don't have to try it yet, you know. Dr. Scharn made it clear this was to be strictly voluntary."
"I know," Tomo snapped, feeling the tension of this brand-new uncertainty and wishing Scharn had left things as they were. Almost wishing it, anyway... Abruptly, he jammed the cassette into the player and dropped into his lounge chair, "All right," he told Max, bracing himself. "Let's give it a try."
And suddenly there was someone else in the room with him.