First Channel

Rimon said, "His fever's rising. We've got to get some fosebine into him. You do have some ready, Slina?"

"Sure—can't get them to drink it, though—not unless they've dehydrated from the fever. And I'm just not cruel enough to withhold the water that long."

"Get the fosebine and let me see what I can do." He turned back to the Gen as Slina left. "You are smart enough to take medicine even though it tastes bad?"

The Gen rolled his head on the mattress, a weak negative. Rimon was at a loss until Abel said, "Rimon, we've got to make him understand that we're trying to start a whole new way of life here."

Zli

Veritt wasn't paying much attention to Rimon. He began talking to the Gen, urgently. "—and my own son no longer has to kill every month. Families aren't being broken when the children mature. Men and women can fall in love and marry—Sime and Gen together. Rimon and my son are both married to Gens—Rimon has a son by a Gen. Don't you see—you've work here, a place here, if you can survive this trial. Take the medicine—live—and join us."

Slina returned with a large bottle of pale gray liquid and a wooden drinking bowl. "For whatever good it'll do!"

Rimon took the bottle, examining the liquid. He could see right through it "This isn't concentrated enough," he said. "Put in about four times as much powder to this amount of water."

"Rimon, it already tastes so foul they won't touch it!"

Rimon shoved a lock of hair off his forehead with one tentacle and poured some of the liquid into the bowl. "Come on, now—if you don't drink this down, Slina is likely to sell you to the next customer for immediate kill before you just die anyway."

"Rimon!" said Jord.

"What'd he say?" Slina asked Abel, who motioned her to silence.

Rimon offered the drinking bowl, his tentacles carefully retracted. "Show her you're intelligent, and she'll keep you alive long enough for us to get you out of here."

Warily, the Gen took the bowl and tasted the concoction with curled lip, and then drank it all down. He flung the bowl away at random and slid back onto the mattress, muttering something about hoping it was poison.

Rimon fielded the bowl in midair with two tentacles and flipped it into his hand. "There, Slina, see? Zlin that."

As the medicine took effect, the Gen relaxed, his aches and pains quieting, his fever leveling off. Rimon said, "Go prepare some of the stronger mixture, Slina, while we take a look at the two women."

Rimon and Jord with Willa beside him went to the next room, where two female Gens occupied the beds, one coughing spasmodically, the other watching and whimpering in fear. Again, Rimon realized just how unique Slina was among Penkeepers for not selling these two breeders when they first showed symptoms—certainly there were customers in town who'd relish a pregnant Gen. Intense disgust rose in Rimon, surprising him.

"What's wrong?" asked Jord, one tentacle around Willa's wrist.

"Nothing," answered Rimon, shaking off the mood and zli

Jord, too, was zli

"I've dealt with it only once or twice before. Pregnancy weakens a Gen—any disease is serious then." Rimon found an empty basin on a side table and handed it to Willa. "Go fill this with water and get some rags. We're going to have to sponge down that fever."

The rest of the night, they nursed the five patients along, while Slina searched for new victims, and then returned to the infirmary with hot trin tea and a few biscuits.

Jord said, "I got the man to take concentrated fosebine by showing him how Willa would drink it if I told her to. Now she's fallen asleep!"

"Let her sleep," said Rimon. "She can't keep up with a Sime, you know."

Jord gave Rimon a wry grin. "You should have taught her that from the first!"

"Kadi hasn't learned it yet!"

In a moment of camaraderie, Jord said, "I rather doubt Henry ever will, either."

"Henry?"

"Steers. Henry Steers. I asked him his name. It was as if I'd given him his identity back—he said no one on this side of the border ever cared enough to ask even his name."

"You know why, Jord."

"Yes, of course," he replied. "It's only after you don't have to kill that you start to see your defenses. But did you notice that he isn't scared of any of us? I don't know if he assumes that no one would take a sick Gen, or if he's just naturally like Willa."

"More likely he's just emotionally wrung out. Slina's had him a while, and we don't know what he went through before that. If Fort Freedom does buy him, you'll probably end up sending him across the border. He's got a life out there somewhere."

"We'll get the money," said Abel. He turned to Slina. "We'll pay what you were asking—but it's going to take us a while. It's been a bad year, but things are getting better now."

"You've been good customers all these years, never making any trouble. But I can't let you have him on credit—

Rimon is right. He's a troublemaker and probably will get himself killed trying to escape. I'm doubling my security on this wing as soon as he's well enough to stand on his feet."

"Just don't sell him to anyone else," Abel said.

Rimon wondered if Abel was following Slina's thoughts as she nodded. "It's a deal, Veritt. I'll keep him for you until midsummer. But that's as long as I can guarantee you—then I may have to send him to auction to recoup some of my losses." She hadn't really wanted to sell Steers right away—she had other plans in mind.

All three males were out of danger before the next morning. The two females were another matter. Near midnight, Slina called Rimon in to support the field of one of them as she miscarried—not such a painful experience as Carlana's, since, the pregnancy was so little advanced, but racking coughs added to the misery of her cramping, and she could not seem to get enough air. Rimon had to concentrate on bolstering her selyn production, alternating with Jord, who still could not hold very long in healing mode.

Willa was upset at the loss of another baby, although she was not frightened. When the worst was over, Rimon collapsed into a chair, letting Jord take over seeing that nothing went wrong after the fact. Willa asked Jord, "Why do so many babies die?"

"Not many, Willa. I know this is the second time you've seen it, but most women" have their babies without even as much trouble as Kadi had."

"When can we have a baby?"

"Maybe next year."

"That's what you said last year. It's next year now. The Year's Turning is over."

"You know I don't want to wait, Willa, but we have to, for your sake."

It was obviously an old argument. Rimon lost track of their murmurings and drifted into a light doze.

He woke with the sound of a strangled wheeze dying in the air about him, a Gen field fading to nageric silence. He was on his feet with a start before he realized it was too late. One of the women had died. On the other bed, the one who had miscarried was having a coughing fit while Slina tried to coax her to drink some fosebine.

His' knees suddenly weak, Rimon sank back into his chair. Jord and Slina hurried to his side, but he fended them off. "I'll be all right if I can just sit a few minutes." There was a weak, fluttery sensation somewhere inside him that he'd thought he'd never have to cope with again. "Jord, you'd better check out the other Gen."

"She drank some fosebine," said Slina. "She's asleep." She moved to look down at the dead girl. "Shidoni! A good, healthy breeder, and the kid, too—and the other one's kid. What am I go