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“As long as she has full
mobility,” Taodore told her.

“She got lucky there,” the doctor
admitted. “She cracked two vertebrae, but there was no nerve damage at all
because of that. She’ll need to stay off her tail completely for four weeks and
then take it easy another two or three weeks afterwards, of course.”

“That won’t be easy for her,”
Sartena remarked. “How does a Mer get around without the use of one’s tail?”

“Crutches, of course,” the doctor
replied. “We generally set our suspensor belts to keep our tails clear in any
case and use crutches to propel ourselves. It’s not so bad. I broke a tail
vertebra once when I was a girl. It takes a day or two to get used to using
crutches, but after a bit it becomes second nature.”

“What about Park?” Sartena asked.

“He also took a shock,” the
doctor replied, “probably from that strange weapon. It both cut him and gave
him burns. The burns were probably electrical in nature. He’s up and about now,
though. We cleaned up the wound and
 
stitched him up.”

“So he’s awake?” Sartena asked.

“It was nearly impossible to get
him to sit still long enough to treat him,” the doctor laughed. “I had to
threaten to give him a general anesthetic before he’d allow me to work on him.
Even so, he was making calls all over the world even while I was putting in
stitches. He’ll be sore for a week or two, but I can tell that won’t slow him down.”

They stayed in Marta Lesto for
several days while Park grumbled his way through his duties by the proxy of his
torc. Marisea, once she finally woke up, was hard to keep in one place. “This
is a disaster,” she muttered to Sartena and Iris. “Do you know where the best
surfing on Earth can be found? That’s right, Marta Lesto. And now I can’t even
use my tail.”

“So you can always come back,”
Sartena pointed out.

“But we’re here now,” Marisea
complained. “Hey! There’s a really great amusement park on the east side of
town.”

“Fine,” Iris agreed, “but none of
the rides for you.”

“Not even the Melody-wheel?”
Marisea asked plaintively. “That’s harmless enough and without that all that’s
left is the fried food.”

“It’s very important you do not
take chances with your tail, dear,” Iris insisted, “Doctor’s orders.”

“What does she know?” Marisea
replied sulkily.

“More about this sort of thing
than you do,” Sartena replied, unable to keep a smile off her face.

“But it doesn’t even hurt!”
Marisea protested.

“And that’s the danger, dear,”
Iris explained yet again. She had stopped keeping track how many times she had
said that.

“Oh, poo!” Marisea grumbled.
“We’ve been here for days and all you’ve let me do was go to a couple museums.”

“You didn’t want to go an on air
tour of the area,” Sartena pointed out.

“Time to pack up, folks,” Park
told them as he entered the room.

“Park,” Marisea asked. “May I
ride the melody wheel?”

“What’s a melody wheel?” Park
asked.

“It’s sort of like a merry-go-round,”
Iris informed him.

“Yeah, sure,” Park told her. “Go
ahead.”

“See?” Marisea told Iris
triumphantly.

“If you can find one in Van
Winkletown, then it’s fine by me,” Park continued.

“We’re going home?” she asked.

“It’s time,” Park nodded.

“You got me,” Ronnie Sheetz
admitted after having time to examine the odd knife. “It’s not the same
material the Dark Ships are made of. They’re definitely metallic. This blade is
a polymer of some sort. It could be the same technology, or just something that
kind of looks the same. I can tell you part of what’s happening, though.

“When the weapon is activated,”
she continued, picking it up off her lab bench, “the polymer blade
metamorphoses from the clear rod into that wicked glowing blade.” She pressed
the
 
activator button on the pommel and
the
 
weapon transformed as she
described.” The blade is electrically charged, as you know, which accounts for
the burns.”

“And also for why I went flying
back from it,” Park added.

“Yes,” Ronnie nodded, “When it
touched you, your muscles jerked and you literally jumped away. I don’t know,
however, how such a small hilt could generated such a large charge. It may be a
side effect.” She switched the weapon off again, but did not put it down yet.

“A side effect of what?” Park
asked.

“Of the metamorphosis,” Ronnie
explained. “That thing doesn’t just change shape once, it’s constantly changing
when active. The blade isn’t vibrating, it’s developing a moving micro-serrated
edge. With all that matter moving around, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn it’s
generating one vicious static charge. It’s still charged now. I have to put it
on a special pad I rigged up to allow it to drain off.” She did so and there
was a strange sizzling noise for a few seconds. “Actually, you can touch it to
anything that’s grounded, but there’s the risk of a shock. Anyway, when I’ve
examined it longer, maybe I’ll know for certain, but I think the real reason
for that edge is that this toy can cut through practically anything on its own.

“Even steel plate?” Park asked.

“Given enough time,” Ronnie
replied, “certainly. At least I think so. Of course the blade would be eroded
by the process as well so I guess the question is which would run out first,
the amount of steel you wanted to cut or the mass of the blade, but the knife
would remain just as sharp and just as deadly so long as any of the polymer was
left.”

“So even armor would do no good
against it?” Park asked.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Ronnie
disagreed. “A flak jacket, one with steel plates, would slow it down long
enough to allow you to fight back. Do you think there are more of these things
on Earth?”

“Probably some,” Park answered,
“but I’m not going to start going everywhere in a flak jacket. So far the only
pattern to these assassination attempts is that they are being made by Premm
masquerading as our sort of humans. The ways and means are all different. Also,
we’ve tightened up security now so they can’t get from one place to another
without our catching them. We caught four three days ago and one each on the
days since then. They are probably starting to run out of agents.”

“Or the rest are just laying low
and hoping for the storm to blow over,” Ronnie suggested.

“It will be a while before that
happens,” Park told her. “We’re on guard now and after all the attempts we
aren’t likely to let it down for a long time. Besides, how many could there be?
The amazing thing is that their plan worked even a little. We should have
spotted them as strangers immediately.”

“Only here in Van Winkle,” Ronnie
told him. In the rest of the world the Mer and the Attackack don’t know us all,
but I think you are right. We probably would have noticed a large influx of
people who look like us arriving on planet had they all come at once or in
large numbers.”

“They trickled in slowly,” Park
told her. “That much we know from the ones we have questioned. They all came in
one at a time and made contact with one or two fellows after arrival. From the
sound of it, I doubt there are more than two or three such left that we haven’t
found. No one is being allowed to bypass security, so any agents left are stuck
wherever they are unless they care to travel on foot.”

“Or buggy,” Ronnie pointed out.

“They can’t rent a buggy without
being found out,” Park told her.

“They could steal one,” Ronnie
told him.

“You’re right,” he admitted.
“I’ll pass that notion on to Arn and his security people. They can look to see
if there have been any buggy thefts in the last few weeks and if any are
unaccounted for. I doubt it though. If anything it will be a new and desperate
ploy. Up until now they have done what they could to blend in. Getting arrested
for grand theft buggy is not blending in.”

“I suppose that depends on where
you live,” Ronnie chuckled, “but we’ve been a well behaved lot here in our
brave new world.”

“We were the best of the best
back in the Twenty-first Century,” Park pointed out.

“No we weren’t,” Ronnie laughed.
“We were the ones foolish enough to believe the government people would wake us
up when the crisis was over.”

“We were still the best that
could be found,” Park maintained.

“Sure,” Ronnie laughed, “The
really smart ones knew how to stay hidden.”

“Would you rather have stayed in
the Twenty-first?” Park asked.

“Heck no!” she laughed again.
“I’m having way too much fun these days, but I’m one of the exceptions. I think
you are too. So many of our people really would like to go back, Park. They
still think of the Twenty-first as home even though we all know we can never go
back. Did you know we had twelve psychologists and five psychiatrists in our
cast of characters? They’ve been working overtime since we woke up.”

“Have they?” Park asked. “I
haven’t noticed.”

“Well, it’s not something anyone
is likely to be proud of, is it?” Ronnie countered. “And I think the main
reason you haven’t noticed is that none of those who feel the need for
counseling or treatments are in the Explorer Corps. Well, think about it.
Everyone who joined up was glad to embrace the new world and to see what it had
to offer. The rest of the population, not so much.

“Look at Bill Bolger and his
philosophers all out on their retreat together in the mountains to the west,”
she went on. “They sneaked out of town in the dead of night not long after we
woke up. Can’t say they adapted to the new world all that well and they were
just the first and most noticeable.”

“They seemed fairly well adjusted
when I found them,” Park pointed out.

“Several years after they bugged
out,” Ronnie argued. “Either they were going to go completely around the bend
and stay there or eventually they would find a new equilibrium. I think in this
situation the latter was more likely. But how about the ones who stayed here.
They’re the ones who decided to tough it out. Naturally, there are still some
who have never completely adjusted and they’re having problems. Minor ones,
since none of us were predisposed toward psychological instabilities – we were
screened, you know, but the stress of being so far out of our time and cultural
home has been more than some could take. I think most of the affected are ones
whose specialties turned out to be superfluous and have not been happy in the
jobs they found. So we’re quietly taking care of our own.”

“Maybe we need to take another
look at job placement. If someone’s original specialty isn’t needed let them
choose something new to study,” Park suggested. “Full scholarships at the
university and so forth.”

“Good idea,” Ronnie nodded. “Tell
Arn that. It’s his jurisdiction and it might a handy political platform plank
for him. I notice his standing in the polls has been slipping since these Premm
agents started up.”

“Is there someone running against
him?” Park asked.

“Two others,” Ronnie informed
him. “A few weeks ago they seemed like dark horses even to themselves, but
now…”

“I didn’t know you supported Arn
so strongly,” Park commented. “You’ve always seemed apolitical, like me.”

“I’ve never been fond of any
politician,” Ronnie admitted, “and if the Premm were not still a threat I
probably wouldn’t care a whit, but now is hardly the time to make changes,
especially since one of the candidates, Jim Plantiera, is promising to
 
make the Explorers a part of the new
government whether we want it or not.”

“He’ll have a time getting that
through,” Park laughed. “The new charter specifically recognizes us as
autonomous.”

“That was one of the amendments,”
Ronnie agreed, “but you’re naïve if you think our crop of neo-modern
politicians can’t repeal any law they like if it suits them. Sure, that might
alienate the Mer and the Atackack, but this is a government we’re talking
about. That’s a monster that’s never completely under anyone’s control, not
even the people who are a part of it. So for now at least I support the status
quo because if Plantiera is elected it’s an instant civil war.”

“Oh we wouldn’t go to war with
his administration,” Park told her, “Just move out of town. We already have
installations outside of Van Winkle, I would just move the central office. Do
you think I need to start thinking about that?”

“Probably not,” Ronnie shook her
head, “but keep that thought on the back burner. I don’t like the idea of
moving, really. This is my home, but I suppose I could work in Questo too.”

“Well, let’s not worry about that
for now, then,” Park suggested. How’s the new mothership coming along?”

“Final fabrication is taking
place in Questo,” Ronnie replied, “although most of her is already assembled in
orbit. In the new spacedock.”

“We have a spacedock?” Park asked
“When did that happen?”

“Last week,” she replied. “We
needed some sort of platform from which to assemble the new larger ships, so we
sent the parts for the dock up with the first ship and assembled both at the
same time. I know I said we couldn’t afford an orbital shipyard, but this is
really just a large frame to hold the parts while being assembled. I just added
a habitat zone for the crews to stay in when not working. It’s big enough to
stage ships crews coming and going too although our other ships can act as
ferries as well.”

“I thought the new ships were
going to be able to land,” Park told her.

“They can land safely, but I
would only do so in an emergency,” Ronnie replied. “You’d have to strip it to
get it aloft again.”

“Didn’t you say a dock is going
to be a fat and juicy target for the Dark Ships if they attack Earth again,”
Park pointed out.