Zenn Scarlett (17 page)

After Otha had gone to join Hild at the ultratheer’s birthing pen, Liam said he would stay and help in any way he could. But there was little he could do. Zeus’ fate was solely in Zenn’s hands now.

Her finger hovered over the machine’s primary system start-button.

“Alright, this will start the process,” she told Liam, who peered over her shoulder. “Once I push this, there’s no going back. Ready?”

“I’m ready if you are. And if Zeus is.”

“Oh, we’ll assume he’s ready,” Zenn said, and she pushed the button.

The spindly arms of the machine clattered to life, each one moving into its initial position. On the hovering v-screens, a series of colored areas lit up on the images of Zeus’ body.

“What’s happening? What are those?” Liam asked, leaning in to see better.

“That shows the parts of Zeus the machine is working on,” she said, pointing. “Like here, the red, blinking line is the main vein to the thigh muscles of his left leg. That’s what is being rebuilt. Now, I just have to direct the magnetic beam… down here…” She moved a slider on the control screen. “…like that. There.”

“Oh. I get it. You have to tell it where to go.”

“Right. At every juncture…” Zenn directed one of the emitter arms to move a few millimeters. “…I need to keep the process keyed in on the right area, in the right order, at the right time.”

“Otha said you couldn’t stop once you started, though, right?”

“The Mag-Genis has to harvest cells from Zeus’ body. It will use those cells to rebuild him,” she said. “To do that, it makes a sort of… liquidy soup out of his damaged internal organs and other tissues. Then it injects microscopic amounts of magnetite into the cells. So now, every cell has a little extra iron in it. That lets the machine use its magnetic fields to move the cells into place – that’s the energy scaffold. Zeus is on life-support while this happens, but if you stopped the rebuilding process, that soup of cells would disintegrate. We wouldn’t be able to get them back.”

She poked a finger at the control screen. “Alright. We just started the rebuild of his left tibia – the bone between the knee and ankle.” Liam leaned in even closer, crowding her where she sat. She spoke without looking up at him. “You might as well find someplace comfortable, Liam. We’re going to be here for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said. He sat down on the padded bench by the wall. “How long did you say it’ll take?”

“About a day and a-half.”

Liam whistled softly.

“Yeah,” she said, moving another emitter arm to its next position. “You can say that again…”

Six hours later, Zenn was stiff and aching from sitting, and she needed a break. Really needed a break.

“Liam?”

He hopped up from the bench.

“What?” he said, coming over quickly. “Something wrong?”

“No. We’re doing fine. But I’ve got to leave for just a second.” She nodded her head toward the bathroom door at the back of the room. “I’ll be right back.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“I need you to watch this little meter.” Liam came up behind her and she pointed to the control screen. “If this level goes into the red zone, slide this indicator to zero. See?”

“Uh, yeah, I see. You sure… I can do this?”

“This part’s easy. You can do it. Red zone, slider to zero. Yes?” Before he could disagree, she was out of the chair and trotting across the room.

A minute later, she was back.

“Did it hit red?”

“No,” he told her, sounding relieved as he rose from the chair. “It moved a little, but that’s all.”

“Great,” she said, sitting down again. “We’re right on schedule. And only,” she checked the countdown clock on the control screen. “…thirty-one hours forty minutes to go.”

Ten hours after she’d started the operation, Hamish appeared in the doorway, asking if she needed anything.

“You could feed Katie for me,” she told him, not looking away from the screens. “There’s kibble for her in the kitchen, in the small tub just inside the pantry door.”

“I will see to it,” he said. “How is the rebuilding of the mammal-feline proceeding?”

“Slow, but sure,” she said. “I’m doing the main neuron group that controls tail movement right now. Oh, that reminds me – Liam, you won’t mind if Zeus wakes up with a bobbed tail, will you?”

“Bobbed?”

“A shortened tail. We’ll save a good hour’s worth of work if we don’t redo the whole thing.”

“Oh. No problem. He’s pretty laid back. I don’t think he’ll mind a new look.”

At twelve hours, both of Zenn’s legs had fallen asleep. She tried to stand in place as she manipulated the control screen, but it was too difficult to hold her hand steady to make the fine-control movements on the v-screen. She couldn’t afford a mistake, so she sat again. Liam was pacing around the room behind her, stopping occasionally to read the label on a bottle of medication or examine some piece of equipment.

“Hm,” he said, reading a v-film he’d picked up from the counter. “Says here hooshrikes have one claw that’s like a hollow needle. I never knew that. They dangerous?”

“No, not to humans,” Zenn said, shaking her head to clear it, struggling a little to stay on task. “The claw doesn’t inject venom. It’s for pheromones.”

“And that would be… what?”

“It’s a hormone. Like a mild drug. Moths use pheromones to attract mates. The female hooshrikes do the same sort of thing. But they inject it into the male. When they’re mating.”

“So it’s… what?” Liam laughed. “An aphrodisiac?”

“More like something that strengthens the bond between the pair.”

“Sounds like chemical warfare to me.”

“Well, it’s an amazing adaptation,” she said. A great yawn escaped from her as she inched an emitter arm into its next position. “Our hooshrike here at the clinic is a male. And he’s one handsome guy. If I were a female hooshrike, I’d definitely wanna get my claws into him.”

“Remind me never to go on a date with you,” Liam said. She could hear the smirk in his voice, but his remark left a conspicuous silence in its wake.

“And speaking of that,” he went on after a few moments. “You ever been? On a date?”

It was a simple question. But Zenn felt heat rising to her face, which made her mad at herself, which made her face hotter.

“No. My days are pretty full, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah. Things to do, animals to mess with. I know. But…” he leaned against the wall in front of her, crossed his arms and watched her work. “Haven’t you ever wanted to go out? I mean, on your own? Only times I’ve seen you Arsia you’re with Otha or the Sister. That’s gotta cramp your style.”

“My… style?”

“You know. When it comes to meeting people. Like guys, for instance. Even in a small place like Arsia I bet there’s some guy… some guy you wondered about.”

“No,” she said quickly, uneasy with this line of questioning. “Like I said. I keep busy. More important things to be obsessed with.” This wasn’t entirely true. Not since her talk with Hild the other day. Despite her best efforts to ignore Hild’s off-hand remark about Liam being “more friendly lately,” the thought had embedded itself in her mind, like a tiny virus. She’d denied the virus any sort of nourishing attention. But it hadn’t died off as she’d hoped it would, and still clung to its own, secret life in its own special area of her mind. A part that she had to admit she’d allowed herself to visit more than once in the past few days. In fact, just last night, drifting off to sleep, Liam had, for some unknowable reason, come to mind. But this, she told herself, was simply because the virus-thought that Hild had planted was novel; it was a new specimen that deserved some level of curiosity, surely, merely based on its newness.

“So let’s say some guy wondered about
you
,” Liam said, not letting the subject drop. “You know, say some guy from Arsia took an interest. Like… a great guy like me, for instance. Would they let you out of your cage here? Let you see this guy? Go on a real, live date?”

Zenn bent lower at the control console, forcing her attention where it needed to go.

Was this some kind of… boy-code? Was Liam Tucker interested? In
her
? Was he asking her on a date? It sounded like it. But the fact was, she had no previous experience with the subject, and found this profound ignorance on her part almost laughable.

She shouldn’t be surprised, really. Ever since Hild’s remark, she might’ve known the tiny thought-virus meant that this was going to come up in one way or another. But Zenn had given this whole subject some in-depth consideration quite a while ago. The Rule was put in place for her own good. She needed to keep it in force.

Friends were a bad idea. So don’t make friends. It was a simple equation, and the answer always computed the same way. Allowing yourself to trust, love or depend on any new people simply carried too much downside. They too would leave, or make fun of you, or make it clear they had priorities that came before you. The equation was harsh, she knew. There were probably psychological impacts for her to consider. But that didn’t change the equation. Attachments to others came with a built-in pain-generating mechanism. And the pain generated was exactly proportional to the strength of the attachment. No, there would be no liking. No attaching. No… dating.

“The cloister is not a cage,” she said finally, not looking up at Liam. “It’s where I choose to be.”

“Well, I’ve seen goats that choose to stay in the barn, ‘cause they’re too scared to go outside. What’re you scared of?”

“Who said I’m scared?” she said, unable to keep the defensive note out of her voice. But the truth was: she’d considered this possibility. Perhaps she was frightened, and the Rule was merely constructed as a defense. So? Defense against pain was entirely reasonable.

I’m tired. Exhausted, actually. And this is stupid, anyway. I cannot think about this now
.

“Look,” she said, the fatigue she’d been successfully fending off now descending on her like a heavy, wet blanket. “I’ll… leave the barn when I’m ready. Now, can we just…”

“Alright, alright. Subject closed.”

She moved a slider, and a new artery began to take shape in Zeus’ thigh.

“So,” Liam said then, going to pick up the v-film about the hooshrike again, “You really get to know all the animals here at the cloister, don’t you? I mean, it’s like they’re not just animals. To you, they all have personalities.”

“They do. Absolutely. Just like Zeus.”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” Liam said. “He’s a cat, a person’s cat, from Earther stock. He’s not… you know… an alien.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Zenn said. “To Hamish, Zeus is just as alien as a rikkaset or a hooshrike. Or a goat.”

“Don’t let Vic hear you say that,” Liam said. “Her goats are like family to that woman.”

Zenn thought of Vic’s kid-skin gloves, but didn’t make the obvious remark about certain species of arachnid eating their young.

“They’ve really stripped her land bare, though haven’t they?” Zenn said instead. “She ever think about maybe shifting them to new pastures, buy some fresh land?”

“She says there isn’t any to be had. At least no fertile land she’d be willing to pay for. She left some papers out on her desk once and I took a look. Did you know her family…?” He stopped, as if his thought process suddenly veered off in another direction.

“Her family what…?”

“Nothing. It’s just… boring family history stuff. Just…” He laughed. “Don’t call Vic’s goats aliens in front of her, that’s all.”

“But they are. To Hamish, they’re aliens. And so are you and I.”

“Well, sure. But Hamish’s just a big insect. Of course he’d feel that way.”

“But that’s the point,” Zenn said, adjusting the emitter arm reconstructing Zeus’ right hip joint. “The native life forms on Mars all died out long before humans came. We’re all aliens here. That’s why it drives me crazy when Graad and the others complain about the cloister’s patients. Calling them monsters. Calling them alien ‘things’ and saying they don’t belong. They belong here as much as we do. A sick whalehound or a pregnant ultratheer or an abandoned yote. They all deserve a place where they can be safe. And to be treated with dignity and respect.” She jabbed a finger at Zeus. “Just like this little alien here.”

“Whoa.” Liam held both hands up in surrender. “Fine. Zeus is an alien and so am I. Don’t blow a gasket.”

“Sorry… But you see what I mean, don’t you? Human beings get this idea in their heads that they’re the special ones – the only ones who get to say who’s normal and who’s… just a thing. Think about if the shoe was on the other foot. And someone decides you’re the thing.”

Liam was quiet then. No snappy comeback.

“People around here can be a little narrow-minded. I grant you that.”

“A
little
narrow-minded?” Zenn laughed.

“Alright. A lot. But maybe they have their reasons.”

“What reasons? Like ignorance? Intolerance?”

“Like alien animals can get you killed,” he said, a hard, new edge in his voice. “How’s that for a reason?”

Zenn was caught off guard, and it took her a moment to realize their talk had taken a sudden and serious turn.

“Killed?” she said. “Our animals have never killed anyone.”

“Maybe
yours
haven’t. You don’t own all the alien things on Mars, though, do you?”

“Liam…” She saw what he was getting at. And it made her heave a frustrated sigh. “There’s never been a documented case of an alien life form killing anyone on Mars. I’ve heard those rumors. Everybody has. They’re just stories.”

She heard him start to pace, moving to and fro in front of the Mag-Genis.

“Are they?” His voice now dripped with… what? Scorn? Rage? “Well, I’ve got a story for you, Scarlett. It’s about my pa. It’s about how he didn’t get pulled into the blades of a combine out at our farm. That’s not what got him. That was just what we told people, my mom and me.”

“Liam, I’m so sorry.” She made herself keep her eyes on the intricate processes flitting across the v-screens. “But I don’t understand.”

“It was night. My pa snuck into Gil Bodine’s machine shed. He was… he was there to steal Gil’s new generator, alright?”

“What?”