The moments around midnight she spent with Shanlun became the focus of her days, the rest a dull endurance trial. One night, he turned from the rain-sheeted windows and sat heavily in one of the padded green chairs. He admitted, "It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the abort seizures. He's dying, Laneff, and I can't even make him comfortable."
Earlier that day, she'd dutifully plowed through an article on the mechanism of transfer-abort seizures in elderly channels. It had been a hopeless, heartless article, and she had pondered how her synthetic compound reduced selyn flow and thus nervous sensitivity to selyn flow. She began explaining this to Shanlun before she had it all thought out herself. "But, no! You don't use the Sectuib in Zeor as a human experiment! Especially not on a wild theory."
But he wouldn't listen to that. He made her repeat her explanation three times until he understood.
"I call it olquenolone, though I'm not at all sure of the stereochemistry; my synthesis produces a messy mixture. The fraction I purify out of it I call K/A because it's the first fraction of the eleventh compound I've tried. But I'll bet olquenolone will be a good name for it."
"And this molecule could be the key to transport nerve irritability."
"Maybe, but it's never been tried on living tissue!"
Pacing, Shanlun decided, "I have to tell Mairis—and Digen—about this. Remember, Digen once submitted to Rindaleo ambrov Zeor's experiments, and that led to the end of the Donor shortage. He might go for this, too."
She had learned about the great Rindaleo ambrov Zeor in school, but she was hardly his equal.
The next day Shanlun brought Mairis to her lab. She spent the entire day with them, between their trips to check on Digen. They grilled her on her every experiment more closely than any doctoral committee ever had.
Every time she successfully fielded a challenge, she noticed Shanlun's attention on her, and there was more than just hope in his nager. It was admiration that was gradually becoming intensely personal.
The following day, Mairis brought in two top experts, one a member of Zeor and another a nonHouseholder. She was halfway through the entire reprise of her experiments before the nickname introductions finally sank in, and she realized these men were behind two of the most exalted names in her profession.
The Householder, a Sime, stayed in her lab all night checking her benchwork. She sweated that out torn by a mixture of hope that he'd find her mistake, and a perverse conviction that there was no mistake to find.
At dawn, when Mairis and Shanlun rejoined them, the Householder zlinned her sharply, and said, "Her theory could even be right. The compound does work as described, but I'd like a few weeks to check—"
"We don't have a few weeks," interrupted Shanlun, seeming haggard. "We've got to get a transfer into the Sectuib—or he'll be dead in hours."
Mairis elaborated gravely, "My top four channels have been working with him around the clock, and we can't do anything. This, at least, is worth a try—and he's for it. So tell us what you want set up to capture all the data possible out of this test. And let's get started."
They took all the K/A she had left and set her to synthesizing more under the watchful eyes of their experts. She had to shut her mind to the experiment going on in the security wing in order to stop her hands from shaking. To focus her concentration, she always visualized the reacting molecules tumbling through their gyrations, stage by stage, turning themselves inside out like contortionists or adagio dancers around a gypsy campfire. When she failed to concentrate like this, on each step of the reaction precisely executed, some un-traceable error crept in and she often got no yield of her desired product.
She knew she'd put on a proud display of her bench technique when, nine hours later, she weighed out her yield of K/A, pure. She was beaming radiantly when Shanlun and Mairis returned.
"He's alive! We did it!" announced Mairis, and the Householder observing her beamed radiantly.
Shanlun was weary, but still fluorescent. "Here's the record and a printout from the vital signs display. I think it shows the effect of the drug; I know I felt it when it hit Digen. It was—a miracle."
His hand brushed hers as she took the strip of paper, and he caught at one of her handling tentacles with a finger. "I would have given up if it hadn't been for you. Thank you, Laneff." The tremor of sensuality in his touch kindled a like response in her. His nager was depleted of selyn though its usual pyrotechnic whirling still dizzied her. He's post, she thought, and knew she could have him in bed if she chose. As delightful as the thought was, she found she didn't want to take advantage of him that way. Not this man.
She put on her best clinical facade and examined the recordings. She could see how blood pressure, heartbeat, respiration, and ronaplin secretion had varied as the drug was introduced. The graphs jittered at the transfer point, trembling at the brink of abort for several moments, but then steadied through the transfer. "There's no way," said Laneff regretfully, "to rule out the placebo effect."
"I know," answered Shanlun, but she could tell his agreement was only intellectual. "The important thing is that it did work. And now Digen wants to meet you!"
Her first view of the living legend was in the ruddy light of a stormy dawn. He was propped up slightly in the white-sheeted bed, watching the sunrise while his withered old hands plucked aimlessly at the covers. He turned when she approached, and his eyes were fully alive in a way that belied the bruised throb of his nager.
"So you're the one responsible for letting me see yet another dawn." He paused to slide laboriously hyperconscious and zlin her. Then he said, "You remind me of Ercy—my daughter. I loved her, you know."
"With good reason," Laneff replied, recalling the story of how Ercy had returned from a self-imposed exile and died giving birth to an heir to Zeor, Mairis's mother. "But I'm not a channel like Ercy was."
"So I noticed. I'm not that old and feeble yet, young lady. And with your help, I may be out of this bed again soon."
Laneff glanced about the bare room. For a Sectuib's hospital room, it was singularly bare and depressing. Even the curtains had been removed leaving only shutters. On a rolling tray at the bedside stood a lone cup of water. The absence of flowers she could understand. Farrises tended to be allergic. But usually the rooms in this hospital had some cheerful pictures on the walls, a television, brightly colored curtains, lamps, dresser scarves. This room had been stripped bare except for the yellow fire extinguisher on the wall near the door. The whole place echoed sharply.
"Sectuib Farris, is there anything I might bring you to make your stay more enjoyable?"
"Oh, no. They'll be bringing me in some food in a few minutes. Not much that I'm allowed to eat lately, but they insist. A Sat'htine knows about such things . – ."
She nodded, and he asked that she stay and eat with him. Over the bland diet, which she tried to pretend wasn't so dismal, they discussed everything from how the weather had changed from his youth to the modernization of the Householdings.
Weeks passed during which she became increasingly intimate with Shanlun. He nursed her patiently through pretransfer depression as if it were a malady he himself suffered from. And after her transfer, he quietly let her seduce him into a physical culmination of the growing emotional closeness between them. She had made love to many First Order Donors, but never had there been anything like this.