"Deny it," Tisiphone suggested.
"Won't work. She'll have heard the recordings by now, and I'm sure Okanami's staff psychologist has already briefed her. It would've been nice if you'd let me know I didn't have to talk out loud before I opened my mouth."
"l had not considered the need. When last I had dealings with humans, there were no such things as recorders. Besides, people who spoke to themselves were thought to be touched by the gods."
"Yeah. Well, times have changed."
"Indeed? Then who are you talking to?"
"Well," Alicia said finally, looking back up at Tannis, "I guess maybe I was a bit shaky when I woke up. Blame me?"
"You didn't sound shaky, Sarge. In fact, you sounded a hell of a lot calmer than you should've. I know you. You're a cold-blooded bitch in combat, but you come apart after the fire fight."
Yeah, Alicia reflected, you do know me, don't you, Tannis?
"So you think I've gone buggy?" she said aloud.
"'Buggy,'"Gateau observed, "is hardly a proper technical diagnosis suited to the mystique of my profession, and you know I'm a mechanic, not a psychobabbler. On the other hand, I'd have to say it sounds ... unusual."
Alicia shrugged. "What can I tell you? All I can say is that I feel rational—but I suppose I would, if I've really lost it.
"Um." Gateau uncrossed her arms and clasped her hands behind her. "That doesn't necessarily follow—I think it's one of those self-assuring theories cooked up by people worried about their own stability—but I'd be inclined to write it off as post-combat shock with anyone else. And if we didn't have you on chip still doing it in your sleep."
"Damn! Am I doing that?"
"At times."
"So why didn't you stop me?"
"I was built by the gods, Little One; I am neither a goddess myself nor omniscient. All I can do is quiet you after you start to speak." "Damn." "Have I had a lot to say?"
"Not a lot. In fact, you tend to shut back up right in mid-word. Frankly, I'd prefer for you to run down instead of breaking off that way."
"Oh, come on, Tannis! Lots of people talk in their sleep."
"Not," Gateau said at her driest, "to figures out of Greek mythology. I didn't even know you'd studied the subject."
"I haven't. It's just— Oh, hell, forget it." Gateau raised an eyebrow, and Alicia snorted. "And get that all-knowing gleam out of your eye. You know how people pick up bits and pieces of null- value data."
"True." Gateau hooked a chair closer to the bed and sat. "The problem, Sarge, is that most people who talk in their sleep haven't dropped right off Fleet scanners for a week—and they don't have weird EEGs, either."
"Weird EEG?" It was time for Alicia's eyebrows to rise, and her surprise was not at all feigned.
"Yep. 'Weird' is Captain Okanami's term, but I'm afraid it fits. He and his team didn't know what they had on their table till they twanged your escape package, but they had a good, clear EEG on you throughout. Spiked just like it's supposed to when you flattened that poor Commander Thompson—" Gateau paused. "They tell you about that?"
"I asked, actually. I knew they'd hit something, and most of the medicos were too busy staying out of reach to get anything done. I've even apologized to him."
"I'm sure he appreciated it." Gateau's eyes gleamed. "Nice clean hit, Sarge, just a tad low." She grinned, then shrugged. "Anyway, there was the spike and all those other squiggles I recognize as lovable old you. But there was another whole pattern—almost like an overlay— wrapped around them."
"Ah?"
"Ah. Almost looked like there were two of you. Mighty peculiar stuff, Sarge. You taking in boarders?"
"Not funny, Tannis," Alicia said, looking away, and Gateau inhaled.
"You're right. Sorry. But it was odd, Alley, and when you tie it in with all the other odd questions you've presented us with, it's enough to make the brass nervous. Especially when you start talking as if there were someone else living in your head." Gateau shook her head, eyes unwontedly worried. "They don't want a schizoid drop commando running around, Sarge."
"Not running around loose, you mean."
"I suppose I do, but you can't really blame them, can you?" She held Alicia's gaze levelly, and it was Alicia's turn to sigh.
"Guess not. Is that the real reason they've kept me isolated?"
"In part. Of course, you really do need continued treatment. The incisions are all done, but they had to put a hunk of laminate into your femur, and about four centimeters of what they managed to save looked like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. You know how quick-heal slows up on bone repair, and you ripped hell out of your muscle tissue, too."
"I realize that. And I also know I could've been ambulatory in this thing—" she tapped the upper tractor collar "—weeks ago. Okanami's 'have to wait and see; we're not used to drop commandos' line is getting a bit worn. If he weren't such a sweet old bastard, I'd have started raising hell then."
"Is that why you've been so tractable? I was afraid you must really be messed up."
"Yeah." Alicia ran her hands through her amber hair. "Okay, Tannis, let's get right down to it. Am I considered a dangerous lunatic?"
"I wouldn't go so far as to say 'dangerous,' Sarge, but there are ... concerns. I'm taking over from Captain Okanami as of sixteen hundred today, and we'll be running the whole battery of standard diagnostics, probably with a bit of psych monitoring cranked in. I'll be able to tell you more then." Alicia smiled a crooked smile. "You're not fooling me, you know."
"Fooling?" Gateau widened her eyes innocently.
"Whatever your tests show, they're going to figure I'm over the edge. Post-combat trauma and all that. Poor girl's probably been suppressing her grief, too, hasn't she? Hell, Tannis, it's a lot harder to prove someone's not loopy, and we both know it."
"Well, yes," Gateau agreed after a moment. "You always liked it straight, so I'll level with you. Uncle Arthur came out with me, and he's going to want to debrief you in person, but then you and I are Soissons-bound. Sector General's got lots more equipment, so that's where the real tests come in. On the other hand, I have Uncle Arthur's personal guarantee that I'll be your physician of record, and you know I won't let them crap on you."
"And if I don't want to go?"
"Sorry, Sarge. You've been reactivated."
"Oh, those bastards!" Alicia murmured, but there was a trace of amused respect in her voice.
"They can be lovable, can't they?"
"How long do you expect your tests to take after we hit Soissons?"
"As long as they take. You want a guess?" Alicia nodded, and Gateau shrugged. "Don't make any plans for a month or two, minimum."
"That long?" Alicia couldn't quite hide her dismay.
"Maybe longer. Look, Sarge, they want more than just a psych evaluation. They want answers, and you already told Okanami you don't know what happened or why you're alive. Okay, that means they're going to have to dig for them. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"And while they're looking, the scent's going to freeze solid."
"Scent?" Gateau sat up straighter. "You in vigilante mode, Sarge?"
"Why not?" Alicia met her eyes. "Who's got a better right?"
Gateau looked away for a moment. "No one, I guess. But that's going to be a factor in their thinking, too, you know. They won't want you running around to do something outstandingly stupid."
"I know." Alicia made herself smile. "Well, if I'm stuck, I'm stuck. And if I am, I'm glad I've got at least one friend in the enemy camp."
"That's the spirit." Gateau rose with a grin of her own. "I've got an appointment with Uncle Arthur in ten minutes—gotta go give him my own evaluation of your condition—but I'll check back when it's over. I may even have more news on your upcoming, um, itinerary."