I don’t know how long I kept up that inane chatter, but when the medic banged on the door my throat was beginning to feel sore. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Spanner. “In here!” I called. “The door’s open.”
He came in in a blast of cold air and had his coat off before I could even say hello. “Tetany,” he said to no one in particular. “Saw that in a horse, once.” A horse? “It’s the pain.” He had his bag open. “Have you tried to touch her’.”
“No.”
“Any idea where she hurts?”
“No.”
“Can you talk?” he asked Spanner. She blinked twice.
“That means no.”
He grinned at me over his shoulder, and it occurred to me that he thought we were some kind of comedy act. No. And she says no, too. My legs started to shake.
He held up a spray hypo.
“No!”
He looked at me, raised his eyebrow. “Allergic?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I am, but she isn’t.” He waited patiently. This is not the past! “No, I’m sorry. It’s all right. She’s not allergic.”
He reached up to touch Spanner’s shoulder, but she inched visibly so he sprayed it into her left buttock instead. “Watch.”
She began to shudder like a dog, and sweat. Her breathing came in great gasps.
“Help me get her to the bed.”
Between us, we shepherded Spanner into the bedroom.
“She won’t want to lie down.” She balked at the bed. “I can give her one more shot, but it’ll put her out. Can you authorize payment?” I nodded. He squirted the stuff into her right buttock this time. “Catch her!”
She fell as I imagined a robot might: arms and legs stiff and not swinging quite right.
“We need to get her clothes off.”
I think the worst thing was that I couldn’t see anything wrong: no burns or cuts or rashes. No bruises or welts. Nothing.
We had her clothes off and he was palpating this and that, bending knees, thumping her chest, nodding to himself.
“She’ll need watching for twenty-four hours.” He laid out six hypos. “Painkillers and antibiotics. One every four hours. Then I’ll come back.” He had pulled on his coat, held out his reader for me to V-hand, and was opening the door before I realized he hadn’t told me anything.
“What’s wrong? What’s happened to her?”
“All her limbs have been dislocated and then snapped back in. Several times. She’s the second person I’ve seen with this in three days.”
“Dislocated…”
“There’s some maniac out there who seems to get their kicks from hurting people severely. I’m tempted to ignore my Hippocratic Oath and report this to the police. Oh, your friend there will be fine, if she rests, and if no infection sets in, but people like the one she met up with last night shouldn’t be allowed to go free.”
I was taken by a sudden, low impulse to tell him I don’t live here! I don’t do this kind of thing! I’m not like her! but I had, once. And I had been, no matter how unknowingly or unwillingly, complicit in this.
“How long will she need to stay in bed?”
“Up to her. The danger of spontaneous redislocation and infection should be past in about forty-eight hours.” He nodded once, shortly, and left. I felt terribly ashamed.
At four that afternoon, Spanner woke up and managed to drink some water.
“Go home.” Raspy, but perfectly clear.
“The medic said-”
“Just go away.”
“You shouldn’t be left alone.”
“What about. That job. Of yours.”
“I’m not going anywhere while you need me.”
“I don’t want you. In my flat. You left it once. I won’t have you staying. Here. Out of pity. Go away.”
“You need-”
“Go away.” Her eyes were so wide that white showed all the way around the irises. She meant it.
“There are four hypos left. I’ll set the system to wake you every four hours. You must use them. The medic says there’s danger of infection. He’s coming back tomorrow morning. I’ll lock the door behind me, just the mechanical lock, and give him a message about where the key is.”
Silence, apart from her breathing. “I got the money.”
“I don’t care about the money!”
“I do. I earned every. Single. Penny.” Her face was. gray again. “Shit. Shit. Hurts.”
I wondered if she had laughed and come while he had been popping out her joints. I turned away, swallowing bile.
She laughed, very softly, so as not to shake her arms or legs. “You never could. Face reality. Go on. Go back to your job. Earn your. Respectable money. But don’t forget. Me and you. Have a bargain.”
“I’ll call you when-”
“Don’t. I’ll call you. When it’s time. About ten days.”
Tom was leaving the building just as I got back. He asked me something about the fake ad I was making, then peered at me.
“You look terrible.”
“I’m fine.” I tried to smile and push past him.
He grabbed my arm. “Leave him,” he said bluntly. “Or her. Find someone who’ll care about you.”
“I’m fine,” I repeated tiredly. “I need to get some rest before work.”
He sighed and let me go.
I called Ruth and Ellen’s. Both out. No forwarding, as usual. “This is Lore. Spanner’s hurt. She won’t let me help her. She might let you, Ellen.” I told her where I had left the key. “Please. Help her.”
I went on shift that day as though everything were fine. Nothing happened. The readings kept showing normal. It was easier to concentrate on the job than to think about Spanner and her pain.
The next day, and the day after that, I went to each equipment locker on my list and tested oxygen tanks, meters, foam canisters. The moon suits, the level-A protective gear, were good quality stuff flashproof as well as fitted with two-stage regulators. The battery’ telltales were green when I tested them, and the radios were in working order.
“Everything so far is in surprisingly good shape,” I told Magyar.
“Good. Keep checking.”
I made sure that the EEBA by the readout console was working, then checked the portable eye showers, the emergency lockdown valves, the reverse pumps. There was fresh oil on one of the pump works. I rubbed it thoughtfully between finger and thumb. The oil felt strange, almost tacky, on the plasthene gloves. After I’d checked the exits and the sprinkler system I called Magyar again. “I’m puzzled.”
“You surprise me, Bird.”
I ignored that. “I found fresh oil on one of the pumps.”
“Good. Or isn’t it?”
“It’s just puzzling. None of the maintenance logs indicate any attention in the last few months. But I find all the batteries are charged, all the pumps freshly greased, all the air tanks full. That last is especially unusual. A good snort of O, works well on a hangover.”
She caught on fast. “Then who’s been topping everything up?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that.” But I was more interested in why than who. Someone was making sure the emergency gear was in good condition. Whoever it was knew enough to understand we might be heading for trouble. “Who here knows how to use all this stuff?”
“I doubt if anyone does. I can use the moon suits, but the others haven’t clapped eyes on an EEBA since their orientation video, assuming they were shown it, or bothered to watch it if they were.”
“They need to learn.”
“Training will mean a drop in productivity. Hepple won’t authorize it.” A moment of silence.
“If you’re thinking of asking them to stay behind on a voluntary basis, they won’t like it.”
“But they’ll do it.” She looked offscreen at her watch. “Still twenty-five minutes of break left. Lots of time to spread the good news.”
I was right: they didn’t like it.
“Why?” demanded Cel.
“First reduced productivity pay because of the masks,” grumbled Meisener. “Now this.”
Kinnis just looked surly. “I don’t understand.”