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from their course and make the healing more difficult."
Frustrated and less than reassured, Fawn debated whether to call a halt to the
ceremony and have
Pulickel returned to the station. Assuming he'd shown no improvement by then,
she'd have no choice but to call for a medevac. Her options were limited by
his condition.
Page 101
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She ducked back into the longhouse, waving at the pungent smoke. His color was
unchanged, which meant that it was still not good, but otherwise he appeared
physically healthy. While this could not be allowed to go on for days,
recalling the effectiveness of the planting ceremony convinced her to give the
Parramati healers until the following morning. At that time she would have no
choice but to have Pulickel evacuated to Ophhlia.
Meanwhile she could only try to contain her frustration and nurture a hope
that she didn't feel.
With a start, she realized how much she missed Pulickel's quiet confidence,
his assurance that any problem could be solved, any obstacle overcome. What
she had initially perceived as blind stubbornness she now saw as conviction
born of experience and knowledge.
Maybe he wasn't the liveliest or most entertaining of companions-but he was
human. Once more she had only aliens for company. She found that she'd grown
used to conversing in terranglo again. She even missed his implied insults.
She doubted if analysis of the stones he'd taken would have provided any clues
to his present condition. It did not matter in any event because they had been
returned to their respective stone masters. By now she'd seen many of the
sacred stones. Irrespective of function and while differing in size, all were
similar in shape and composition. Even had they been available for analysis,
she doubted they would have provided the necessary answers.
Night had crept in quietly and the Torrelauapans had prepared and consumed the
evening meal. Too troubled to be interested in food, she had declined polite
invitations to join them. Bathed in torchlight, she stood outside the
longhouse listening to the chanting from within. It did not seem to have
changed much, if at all. In her mind she had begun to compose the evacuation
request that would have to be sent to Ophhlia in the morning.
She forced herself to chew a couple of concentrate bars and drink some
supplement-enhanced juice.
It wouldn't do Pulickel any good to let her own system run down. A glance at
her chronometer suggested it was time to make yet another check on the
xenologist's condition. Knowing in advance what it would be, she took a deep
breath and bent low to reenter the longhouse.
She'd grown semiused to the smoke, and it no longer stung her lungs as badly
as the first couple of times. What she saw through the lingering haze snapped
her out of her lethargy faster than any energy bar.
Ijaju and Solinna had moved. Instead of squatting at Pulickel's head and feet,
they now faced each other across his chest. Each held arms straight out toward
one another, the fingers not quite touching. Ijaju's trembled slightly but did
not falter.
Resting beneath their hovering hands on Pulickel's chest was a single vitreous
mass: their respective healing stones fused to become one. From it emanated an
intense halo of pinkish-green incandescence that had spread out to infuse the
motionless xenologist's entire body. The light was brighter than that of the
torches outside, brighter than that put out by the portable illuminator she
carried in her backpack. So intense was it that his features were partly
obscured, as if by a translucent pinkgreen wave. The concentrated effulgence
cast strange shadows on the squatting bodies of the attendant stone masters.
Afraid of disturbing them, she tiptoed inside and edged slowly along the
interior wall until she found a place where she could see everything clearly.
As she stared, Pulickel's body twitched sharply. Not adrenaline shock, she
decided, but something else, something much deeper. He began to moan then, and
it was the most horrible sound she'd ever heard emerge from a human throat. A
shiver ran like ice water down her spine, and it took a considerable effort of
will for her to keep from rushing forward and terminating the ceremony. All
that stopped her was the realization that the stone masters had managed to
induce a reaction, albeit a terrible one.
The moan changed to a high keening, sharp and measured. It was repeated at [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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