“Violating quarantine,” Manning said in an amused tone of voice. “I’d let go of my arm if I were you. Roughing up the president of ISEWU wouldn’t be a good idea. The crew of the Homa Darabi Maru needs an on-site union observer to ensure that their rights aren’t being violated. Given the situation, it wouldn’t be right to ask a subordinate to risk violating quarantine, so I’m volunteering for the job.”
Juna’s eyebrows rose in astonishment and admiration.
Manning coughed several times, “And if this unreasonable quarantine is not lifted within five days, I will go on a hunger strike,” he continued in his reasonable, slightly breathless tone of voice, as though he were explaining this to a small child. “If the quarantine continues for more than ten days, I will urge all our union members to show solidarity with their fellow workers aboard the Homa Darabi Maru by declaring a general strike.”
Matters moved fairly quickly after that. Manning had brought along a small portable IR transmitter that he rigged to the ship’s antenna. He began broadcasting the union’s demands and taking part in the negotiations for their release from quarantine. Communications were restored to the ship as a whole within hours of Manning’s violation of quarantine.
Juna was besieged by requests for interviews from the press. She issued a brief statement, explaining the situation, reassuring people that the Tendu posed no health risk, and pleading for a quick release from quarantine. When she was done recording her statement, Moki touched her arm.
“Siti, can I say something to your people? I know that Ukatonen would want to if he was awake.”
Juna smiled. “Thank you, Moki. That would be wonderful.”
Moki stood in front of the recording camera. “Hello,” he said, speaking simultaneously in formal Tendu skin speech and verbal Standard. “My name is Moki, and I am a Tendu. I greet you on behalf of my people, and for Uka-tonen, who cannot speak to you today. His sickness is nothing that affects humans. He will be well as soon as we are in a natural environment. We’re looking forward to seeing your world and learning more about you. We hope that the Tendu and the humans achieve harmony together. Thank you.”
Watching her bami, Juna felt a surge of pride. He was a little awkward, but he spoke with the undeniable authority of someone who spoke from the heart. His words would help ease people’s fear of the Tendu.
“Was it okay?” Moki asked when the camera was turned off.
“It was fine,” Juna assured him. “Just fine.”
“You did well, both of you,” said someone at Juna’s side.
She looked up. It was Mr. Manning.
“Thank you,” Juna said. “And thanks for the risk you took, breaking quarantine.”
“It wasn’t much of a risk. No one was sick,” Manning said with a shrug. He sat down and took out an inhaler. “Excuse me, but I have bad lungs. Decompression burn. My suit got torn by flying debris while I was trying to patch a badly holed habitat. At least I got the hole patched.”
“You take a lot of risks,” Juna remarked.
“Somebody’s got to,” he said, looking at her levelly. “Otherwise everyone who works out in space would get screwed. The union went to bat for me when I got injured. I’m just carrying on the tradition.”
“Well,” Juna said, feeling a little awkward in the face of such commitment. “I wish it wasn’t necessary. If I’d stayed on Tiangi instead of coming home …” She left the rest unsaid.
“Juna, this is the Expansionists’ fault, not yours. It should be over soon,” Manning reassured her. “Thanks to Ms. Goudrian, the media is all over Burnham and the Survey. Burnham can’t take that kind of pressure, not in the middie of the appropriations debate. It’s a pity,” he noted, glancing down at his stomach. “I was kind of looking forward to a hunger strike. I need to lose some weight.”
“Can I see what’s wrong with your lungs?” Moki asked, when the technicians had left them alone in the room.
“All the damage is inside, Moki. There’s nothing to see.”
“That wasn’t what he meant,” Juna explained. “He wants to link with you, and see if he can heal your lungs.”
“Do you think he can?”
“The Tendu can do a lot. But there’s no guarantee. And linking can be overwhelming and a little frightening if you’re not used to it.”
Manning hesitated.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Juna said.
“Do you really think Moki can’heal me?” he asked again.
“When we were negotiating with the Tendu one of our negotiators had a massive heart attack, out in the middle of the jungle. The Tendu saved his life. The doctors who examined the man after the Tendu healed him, said that his heart was as healthy as that of a twenty-year-old. I’ve seen Tendu regrow severed limbs. And then there was what they did to me.”
“But Moki is just a child,” Manning pointed out. “Does he have the experience to do this?”
“Moki is thirty-four years old. And he’s been learning from one of the best healers on Tiangi.”
“And Juna will be monitoring me,” Moki added.
“I’ve felt like a fish out of water every day for the last ten years,” Manning said, looking thoughtfully down at Moki. “And if you say that he can heal me, then I’m willing to try it. What do I do?”
“Roll up your sleeves, and hold out your arms,” Juna directed.
Moki pulled his chair a little closer to Manning, and grasped his outstretched arm. Juna grasped Moki’s other arm.
They linked. Juna could taste the flat acidity of insufficiently oxygenated blood, felt the leathery scars of decompression burn on the inside of Manning’s lungs. She felt the bright, tart taste of Manning’s fear, and enfolded him in reassurance. When he was calm again, Moki set to work clearing away the scarring that kept Manning’s lungs from fully expanding. Then he triggered the growth of fresh new tissue in the damaged parts of his lungs. That done, the bami scanned the rest of Manning’s body for more subtle damage.
Moki had learned a lot from Ukatonen. He tired much less easily now than he had back on Tiangi. He managed to repair a damaged shoulder joint and cleared most of the plaque from the inside of Manning’s major arteries before Juna broke the link. She would have to tell Ukatonen how much Moki had improved.
Manning awoke. Cautiously, he took a breath, then another, deeper one. “It doesn’t hurt!” he said wonderingly. “I can take a deep breath and it doesn’t hurt!” His voice sounded smoother, all traces of the previous hoarseness gone.
“Your lungs will improve as more new tissue grows back,” Moki told him. “It’ll take a week or so before it’s done. Eat lots of meat and vegetables. Get plenty of sleep. Your body will be working hard.”
Manning took Moki’s hand in his. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for trying to get us out of here,” the Tendu said.
“It’s my job,” Manning replied.
“And healing is part of what I do,” Moki said. “We have achieved harmony.”
Manning returned to the negotiations with a vigor and energy that amazed his opponents. A day later, word came that the quarantine would be lifted the next day. Joy swept through the ship. The crew cheered, embraced one another, and then hurried off to pack.
Ukatonen was swimming deep below the surface of the sea, the waters dark and murky. The faint shadows of fish flickered away from him as he swam. The water was thick with the taste of life. He swam through a curtain of millions of tiny plants and animals, living, breeding, dying, and being born. It was cold and dark, but reassuring to be surrounded by so much life, even here in the depths.