The first thing that came to mind was the memory of the four black stones that were piled in the safehold. She had to destroy them. There was no telling when Severance might decide to make another trip inside and carry one out. Furthermore, there was no telling when one of those awful eggs might hatch of its own accord. The thought of four of the dark blue reptiles wandering out of the safehold seeking food was more than Cidra wanted to contemplate.
Wearily she got to her feet again and went to stand at the entrance of the safehold. From the walls came a faint glow, illuminating the interior now. At the far end of the room the four stones rested in shadow. Cidra tried to decide what she would do if she went into the room and accidentally triggered the illusions. She would need the Screamer. She went back to Severance and removed it from his loop. Then she tightened her grip around the pulser and stepped inside the chamber.
Nothing happened, just as nothing had happened the first time she had entered. Staying close to the wall in case she needed to use its surface as a point of reference, she walked slowly around the room. She reached the small group of eggs at the back without having touched off either the Ghost history or the horrific illusions. Facing the eggs, Cidra took aim and systematically shot each.
At first nothing happened. The tough stone casing around the creatures seemed to absorb the energy of the pulser. She stepped closer and fired again. This time one of the shells cracked. When it fell apart, Cidra could see that the reptile inside was dead. She used the pulser to break open the rest of the shells so that she could assure herself that all the creatures were destroyed.
A part of her wanted to clear the remains out of the safehold, but she didn’t feel up to the task. She would have to content herself with knowing that the eggs were no longer a menace. Cidra turned back toward the entrance, one palm still flattened on the curving wall, and trotted quickly toward the sunshine.
Expecting a wave of illusions to block her path, she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she stepped outside without incident. It occurred to her that perhaps the illusions were somehow tied to the eggs. Perhaps a protective device. With the eggs destroyed the trap might not work any longer. As for the Ghosts’ history projection, perhaps it was simply so old that it had faded into oblivion after one last showing.
There was no point speculating on either possibility. She had her hands full, tending Severance. For the next two hours she kept up the cooling baths. He slipped in and out of a troubled sleep, muttering occasionally and once in a while knocking her hands away in restless irritation.
At the end of the two hours of bathing his fevered body, Cidra thought she detected some improvement. He seemed to be cooling down at last. She peeled off the bandage and examined the wounds. They were red and swollen but not alarmingly so. She sprayed more antiseptic on them and then covered them again with the plastic adhesive. Severance opened his eyes just as she was finishing the task. His gaze was clearer than it had been for hours.
“Did I hurt you?” Cidra smiled, relieved to see something besides fever in his eyes. He still looked dazed and uncomprehending, but she could see him struggling to identify her.
“How could you hurt me? You’re from Clementia.”
Cidra shook her head at his logic and touched his temple. “You’re on the mend, Severance. Your fever is breaking.”
“I didn’t take care of you. I almost got you killed.”
“No, Severance. You saved my life. More than once.”
He moved his head in restless denial. “Just like Jeude. Almost got you killed, just like Jeude.”
“Hush,” she soothed. “You didn’t kill your brother.”
“Should never have let him go to QED alone. He was too soft. Too gentle. Followed a distress signal right into the ground. Never realized he’d been tricked.”
Cidra frowned. “Be easy, Severance.”
“Had to kill Racer. Racer set up the signal. Racer tried to take you from me. He would have hurt you, Cidra. He wanted to hurt you to hurt me.”
“I know,” she whispered, wondering about what he had said earlier. “Racer drew your brother to his death with a fake distress signal?”
“Racer murdered Jeude. Said he hadn’t meant to, but he did. And I never even knew until… until—” He broke off, clearly groping for some sense of time.
“It’s all right, Severance. It’s all over. Everything’s over. Racer is dead.”
“All my fault,” he muttered again. “I put you in danger. Just like I put Jeude in danger.”
“Severance, listen to me. It is not your fault. You’ve taken care of everything. Racer is dead.”
But he wasn’t listening. The gray eyes looked up at her with unnatural intensity. “I let Jeude get killed, and I almost let you get killed. You’re like him. I’m supposed to protect you. You and he both belong in Clementia.” His voice faded as his eyes began to close. “You’re like him.”
Cidra stared down at his hard face as he drifted back into sleep. “No, Severance. You’re wrong. I’m not like Jeude.” Her eyes fell on the pulser that lay close at hand on the ground. “I’m not at all like Jeude.”
She bathed him once more, but now she was certain that he had turned the corner. The fever was definitely subsiding. A damp, healing sweat filmed his skin. Cidra concentrated on getting Severance to drink plenty of water. Toward nightfall she stationed herself near the edge of the circle, slipped into the trance that made the pulser a part of her, and waited for another unwary hopper. Now she was amazed that anything as stupid as a hopper survived on Renaissance. The food chain was a complex thing. Right now she was sitting at the top of that chain: a reasonably well-adapted predator.
For someone who had never before eaten meat, doing so was a major change. But, then, everything else in her life was changing, so her eating habits might as well also. A flicker of ears caught her attention. The hopper made a dash through a relatively open area of vegetation, and Cidra killed it in mid-leap.
This time she didn’t throw up when she cleaned the carcass. Cidra wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not. It seemed to her that part of her should still be fastidious enough to get sick at the thought of killing and butchering food. On the other hand, a steady stomach was proving much more convenient than an unsteady one.
When Severance awoke long enough to eat some of the roasted meat and drink more water, Cidra stopped worrying about her weakening vegetarian ethics. She was too busy being grateful that she had managed to get her patient to eat.
