“More than anything or anyone.” Leah went to the blond youth’s side. “He’s all I care about. I worry more about what happens to Chan than to anyone on Earth, or off it, or in all your wonderful ‘Stellar Group.’ You just asked a really stupid question.” She put her arms possessively around Chan.
“It wasn’t really a question.” Flammarion sniffed. “I thought that’s what you’d say. Now you listen to me, Leah Rainbow. In all your years of looking after Chan and loving him, didn’t it ever make you sad to know that Chan would not develop as a normal human being? I’m not talking about the physical side, I mean his mental maturity.”
“Of course it did. It broke my heart.”
“And didn’t you grieve, to think that he’d always be like this, and never know the world that we know?”
“I cried myself to sleep over Chan, a thousand times.”
Flammarion looked uneasily across at Chan Dalton. It made him feel very uncomfortable, referring to Chan as though he was not even there; although surety Leah must know what she was doing, and Chan didn’t comprehend what they were saying about him.
But the questions were having a profound effect on Leah Rainbow herself, and Chan noticed that. He put his arms around her in turn, and squeezed her to him.
“You silly old man.” Leah’s eyes were blinking away tears. “I’ve wept more for Chan than I’ve ever wept for myself. I’ve often thought I’d trade everything I had, sell my body, give my whole life — if it could somehow make Chan grow up. I still feel that way, I would do anything. Only now I’m old enough to know that it’s a hopeless wish.”
“Hopeless, is it? Then you listen to me, Leah Rainbow.” Flammarion leaned forward and lowered his voice confidentially, although the room held the only people within seventy million kilometers. “People on Earth don’t know everything, even though there’s many as thinks they do. So you listen. A few years ago, a man named Tolkov built a gadget out on Oberon Station. He intended it for use in working with alien forms, ones who might be intelligent but who seemed like borderline cases. It worked pretty well, and people called his invention a Tolkov Stimulator. Just a few models were made, and their use was pretty much prohibited for use on humans. The only exception is in case of Stellar Group emergencies. You see, the Stimulator heightens the level of mental activity. Sort of like some of the mental stimulant drugs — except that it does it permanently.”
“It makes people smarter?
“Sometimes. Some people. It makes others go insane, and that’s why it’s prohibited for general use. But Mondrian, my boss, he has access to a stimulator if he needs one, because he’s head of the Anabasis. He could make one available.” Flammarion leaned close to Leah. “If Commander Mondrian was sure that everyone else was cooperating with the Anabasis’ effort, he might make it available for Chan.”
“For Chan,” echoed Dalton happily. He was still standing between Leah and Tatty Snipes. “For Chan.”
“See?” said Flammarion. “He knows what he wants. But I’ll guarantee one thing — Commander Mondrian won’t make the Stimulator available if you refuse to cooperate and won’t go ahead with pursuit team training. That’s why I asked you: How important is Chan to you? ” Flammarion paused. He had reached the end of Mondrian’s advice as to how to proceed. Now all he could do was sit and wonder how Leah would react.
She burst into tears. “Chan, did you hear him?” She hugged Dalton to her. “Oh, Chan, you’re going to grow up — read, and write, and know the names of the animals and the flowers and the days of the week, and dress yourself, and learn the names of all your friends. Won’t it be wonderful?”
“You’ll do it?” Flammarion stood up, stretching the creases in his wrinkled uniform.
Leah’s tears gave way to rage, “Of course I’ll do it, you great fool. You’re offering me what I’ve prayed for. You think you’re so clever, knowing exactly which pressure points to push.”
“I didn’t push — ”
“You decided where to probe and twist me, didn’t you, and you think you’ve won. But well be the real winners, me and Chan. I’ll do it, of course I will. I’ll go away, and study, and do my best to work with your stupid Pursuit Team. But you’ll have to promise me something, Captain. Chan must have a full treatment with your machine, and you’ll have to give me regular progress reports. And I get to come here sometimes, to see for myself how he is doing. And you tell me at once when he becomes normal.”
“If he becomes normal. I told you, the Stimulator isn’t a sure thing. There’s a good chance it can fail. And even if it works, you won’t know for a while. It’s an odd process. It goes real slow at first, then all of a sudden the change comes in a big rush. But don’t get me wrong. There’s no guarantee that the change we want will ever come. Chan may stay a mor — a not too bright person, for all his life.” And if it doesn’t work, that won’t be very long.
“Even if it doesn’t work, he’ll be no worse off then he is now. How often will I be able to come here and visit?”
“Maybe a couple of times.” Flammarion wriggled again in his seat. Mondrian would go out of his mind when he learned how Leah Rainbow had bargained. “You see, it’s not a great idea to come here. The period when the Stimulator is being applied is very … intense. Tough for the person being treated, and tough for the one giving the treatment. There shouldn’t be interruptions. For Chan’s own sake, he ought to interact with just one person until the course is finished. And that person wilt be Princess Tatiana.”
“How long — before we know?”
“Nobody can say. Maybe a month or two, but it could be more. Anyway, by that time your training ought to be over, and you’ll have a Pursuit Team assignment.”
“You’re telling me I may not see him at all.”
“I don’t know — and I’m not trying to trick you. Miss Leah, can you get all this across to Chan? It would make Princess Tatiana’s job a lot easier if he really understood what was going on.”
“I can try. It’s very abstract for him, but I’ll do my best.” Leah turned to Chan. “Channy, let’s go away and play, just us, in the swim-room. All right? Tatty and the Captain will stay here.”
Chan nodded. “OK. Captain smell real bad. Well go.”
“There.” Leah turned fiercely on Flammarion. “You think Chan’s not smart, but he just told you something you ought to have been told a long time ago. You smell. Captain Flammarion. To be more accurate, you stink. Come on, Chan, let’s get out of here. Tatty, don’t let him talk you into anything you don’t want to do.”
She headed for the door, pulling Chan along by the hand. Kubo Flammarion stared after them in perplexity. He shrugged, scratched at his scalp, rubbed his sleeve across his nose, and finally walked across to Tatty Snipes. She was still leaning forward with her head on her hands.
Flammarion took a purple globe the size of a small grape from his pocket and pressed it firmly against her arm. “Only half a dose, Princess, but better than nothing. There, now. Give it a minute or two, and you’ll start to feel better.”
She groaned at the first shock of the injection. After a few seconds she raised her head, and a touch of pink began to creep into the livid cheeks. “Ah-h-h. Thanks, Kubo. Oh God, I’ve been feeling wretched. I thought I’d die when I found out there were going to be no more shots.”