Текст книги "Cyteen "
Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh
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Текущая страница: 39 (всего у книги 61 страниц)
"Hey, I'm glad it worked, I amglad. There's nothing at all wrong with me. Or you. Or Will."
"Addictions. Was that the keyword?"
"Let's talk about it later."
"Talk where, then? At home? Is it that safe?"
Grant gave a long sigh, and faced the muttering of thunder and the flickering of lightnings on Wing Two's horizon. It was a dangerous time. Fools lingered out of doors, in the path of the wind that would sweep down—very soon.
"It's frustration," he said. "That they won't take Will's word on it. That they know so damn much because they're CITs."
"They have to be careful. For Will's sake, if nothing else. For the sake of the other programs he tests, —"
"CITs are a necessary evil," Grant said placidly, evenly, against the distant thunder. "What would we azi possibly do without them? Teach ourselves, of course."
Grant made jokes. This was not one of them. Justin sensed that. "You think they're not going to listen to him."
"I don't know what they're going to do. You want to know what's the greatest irritation in being azi, Supervisor mine? Knowing what's right and sane and knowing they won't listen to you."
"That's not exactly an exclusive problem."
"Different." Grant tapped his chest with a finger. "There's listening and listening. They'll always listento me, when they won't, you. But they won't listento me the way they do you. No more than they do Will."
"They're interested in his safety. Listeninghas nothing to do with it."
"It has everything to do with it. They won't take his word—"
"—because he's in the middle of the problem."
"Because an azi is always in the middle of the problem, and damn well outside the decision loop. Yanni'sin the middle of the problem, he's biased as hell with CIT opinions and CIT designs, does that disqualify him? No. It makes him an expert."
"Ilisten."
"Hell, you wouldn't let me touch that routine."
"For your own damn—good, —Grant." Somehow that came out badly, about halfway. "Well, sorry, but I care. That's not a CIT pulling rank. That's a friend who needs you stable. How's that?"
"Damn underhanded."
"Hey." He took Grant by the shoulder. "Hit me on something else, all right? Let's don't take the work I'd test my own sanity on and tell me you're put out because I won't trust my judgment on it either. I'd give you anything.
I'd let you—"
"There's the trouble."
"What?"
"Let me."
"Friend,Grant. Damn, you're flux-thinking like hell, aren't you?"
"Ought to qualify me for a directorship, don't you think? Soon as we prove we're crazy as CITs we get our papers and then we're qualified not to listen to azi Testers either."
"What happened? What happened, Grant? You want to level with me?"
Grant looked off into the dark awhile. "Frustration, that's all. I—got turned down—for permission to go to Planys."
"Oh, damn."
"I'm not his son. Not—" Grant drew several slow breaths. "Not qualified in the same way. Damn, I wasn't going to drop this on you. Not tonight."
"God." Justin grabbed him and held on to him a moment. Felt him fighting for breath and control.
"I'm tempted to say I want tape," Grant said. "But damned if I will. Damnedif I will. It's politics they're playing. It's—just what they can do, that's all. We just last it through, the way you did. Your project worked, dammit. Let's celebrate. Get me drunk, friend. Good and drunk. I'll be fine. That's the benefit of flux, isn't it? Everything's relative. You've worked so damn long for this, we've both worked for it. No surprise to me. I knew it would run. But I'm glad you proved it to them."
"I'll go to Denys again. He said—"
Grant shoved back from him, gently. "He said maybe. Eventually. When things died down. Eventually isn't now, evidently."
"Damnthat kid."
Grant's hands bit into his arms. "Don't say that. Don't—even think it."
"She just has lousy timing. Lousytiming. That'swhy they're so damn nervous. . . ."
"Hey. Not her timing. None of it's—her timing. Is it?"
Thunder cracked. Flashes lit the west, above the cliffs. Of a sudden the perimeter alarm went, a wailing into the night. Wind was coming, enough to break the envelope.
They grabbed each other by the sleeve and the arm and ran for shelter and safety, where the yellow warning lights flashed a steady beacon above the entrance.
iv
"Dessert?" uncle Denys asked. At Changes,at lunch, which was where she had agreed to meet him; and Ari shook her head.
"You can, though. I don't mind."
"I can skip it. Just the coffee." Denys coughed, and stirred a little sugar in. "I'm trying to cut down. I'm putting on weight. You used to set a good example."
Fifth and sixth try at sympathy. Ari stared at him quite steadily.
Denys took a paper from his pocket and laid it down on the table. "This is yours. It did pass. Probably better without you—this year."
"I'm a Special?"
"Of course. Did I say not? That's one reason I wanted to talk with you. This is just a fax. There was—a certain amount of debate on it. You should know about that. Catherine Lao may be your friend, but she can't stifle the press, not—on the creation of a Special. The ultimate argument was your potential. The chance that you might needthe protection—before your majority. We used up a good many political favors getting this through. Not that we had any other choice—or wanted any."
Seventh.
She reached out and took the fax and unfolded it. Ariane Emory, it said, and a lot of fine and elaborate print with the whole Council's signatures.
"Thank you," she said. "Maybe I'd like to see it on the news."
"Not—possible."
"You were lying when you said you hated the vid. Weren't you? You just wanted to keep me away from the news-services. You still do."
"You've requested a link. I know. You won'tget it. You know why you won't get it." Uncle Denys clasped his cup between two large hands. "For your own health. For your well-being. There are things you don't want to know yet. Be a child awhile. Even under the circumstances."
She took the paper and carefully, deliberately slowly, folded it and put it in her carry-bag, thinking, in maman's tones: Like hell, uncle Denys.
"I wanted to give you that," uncle Denys said. "I won't keep you. Thank you for having lunch with me."
"That's eight."
"Eight what?"
"Times you've tried to get me to feel sorry for you. I told you. It was a lousy thing to do, uncle Denys."
Shift and Shift again. Working only worked if you used it when it was time. No matter if you were ready.
"The taping. I know. I'm sorry. What can I say? That I wouldn't have done it? That would be a lie. I amglad you're doing all right. I'm terribly proud of you."
She gave him a nasty smile, fast and right into a sulk. "Sure."
"'To thine own self be true'?" With a smile of his own. "You know who planned this."
She ran that through again. It was one of his better zaps, rightout of the blind-side, and it knocked the thoughts right out of her.
Damn. There weren't very many people who could Get her like that.
"I wonder if you can imagine how it feels," uncle Denys said, "to have known your predecessor—my first memories of her are as a beautiful young woman, outstandingly beautiful; and having the same young woman arriving at the end of my life—while I'm old—is an incredible perspective."
Trying to Work her for sure. "I'm glad you like it."
"I'm glad you accepted my invitation." He sipped at his coffee.
"You want to do something to make me happy?"
"What?"
"Tell Ivanov I don't needany appointment."
"No. I won't say that. I can tell you where the answer is. It's in the fifteenth-year material."
"That's real funny, uncle Denys."
"I don't mean it to be. It's only the truth. Don't go too fast, Ari. But I am changing something. I'm terminating your classes."
"What do you mean, terminating my classes?"
"Hush, Ari. Voices. Voices. This is a public place. I mean it's a waste of your time. You'll still see Dr. Edwards—on a need-to basis. Dr. Dietrich. Any of them will give you special time. You have access to more tapes than you can possibly do. You'll have to select the best. The answer to what you are is in there—much more than in the biographical material. Choose for yourself. At this point—you're a Special. You have privileges. You have responsibilities. That's the way it always works." He drank two swallows of the coffee and set the cup down. "I'll put the library charges to my account. It's still larger. —You can see your school friends anytime you like. Just send to them through the system. They'll get the message."
He left the table. She sat there a moment, figuring, trying to catch her breath.
She couldgo to classes if she wanted to. She could request her instructors' time, that was all.
She could do anything she wanted to.
Shots again. She scowled at the tech who took her blood and gave them to her. She did not even seeDr. Ivanov.
"There'll be prescriptions at pharmacy," the tech said. "We understand you'll be using home teaching. Please be careful. Follow the instructions."
The tech was azi. it was no one she could yell at. So she got up, feeling flushed, and went out to the pharmacy in the hospital and got the damned prescriptions.
Kat. At least it was useful.
She got home early: no interview with Dr. Ivanov, no hanging around waiting. She put the sack in the plastics bin and read the ticket and discovered they had billed her account thirty cred for the pills and probably for Florian and Catlin's too.
"Dammit," she said out loud. "Minder, message to Denys Nye: Pharmacy is your bill. Youpay it. I didn't order it."
It made her furious.
Which was the shot. It didthat to her. She took half a dozen deep breaths and went to the library to put the prescription bottles in the cabinet under the machine.
Damn. It was nowhere near time for her cycle. And she felt like that. She felt—
On. Like she wished she had homework tonight, or something. Or she could go down and see the Filly, maybe. She had been working too hard and going down there too little, leaving too much of the Filly's upbringing to Florian, but she didn't feel like that, either. The shots bothered her and she hated to be out of control when she was around people. It was going to be bad enough just trying not to be irritable with Catlin and Florian when theygot home, without going around Andy, who was too nice to have to put up with a CIT brat in a lousy, prickly mood.
She knew what was going on with her, it had to do with her cycles, damn Dr. Ivanov was messing with her again, and it was embarrassing. Going around other people, grown-ups, likely they could tellwhat was going on with her, and that made her embarrassed too.
The whole thing was probably on Denys' orders. She bet it was. And she tried to think of a way to get them to stop it, but as long as Ivanov had the right to suspend her Super's license if she dodged sessions—she was in for it.
Dammit, there wasn't anything in the world those shots and those checkups had to do with her dealing with azi, not a thing—but she couldn't prove it, unless maybe she could do what the first Ari had done and call Security, and get them to arrange a House council meeting.
God, and sit there in front of every grown-up she knew in the whole House and explain about the shots and her cycles? She had rather die.
Don't go up against Administration, Ari senior had told her, out of the things she had learned.
Except it was Ari senior doing it to her as much as it was Denys.
Damn.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
She opened the tape cabinet, looking for something to keep her mind busy and burn some of the mad off. One of the E-tapes. Dumas, maybe. She was willing to do that tape twice. She knew it was all right.
But it was the adult ones that she started thinking about, which made her think about the last sex tape she had had, which was a long time back. And it was just exactly what she was in the mood for.
So she pulled one out that didn't sound as embarrassing as the others, Models,it was called; and she took it to the library, told the Minder to tell Florian and Catlin when they came in that she was doing tape and might be fifteen more minutes—she checked the time—by the time they got the message.
And locked the tape-lab door, tranked down with the mild dose you did for entertainment, set up and let it run.
In a while more she thought she should cut it off. It was different than anything she had thought.
But the feelings she got were interesting.
Very.
Florian and Catlin were home by the time the tape ran out. She ought not, she thought, stir about yet; but it was only a tiny dose, it was not dangerous, it only made her feel a little tranked, in that strange, warm way. She asked the Minder was it only them—silly precaution—before she unlocked the door and came out.
She found them in the kitchen making supper. Warm-ups again. "Hello, sera," Florian said. "Did it go all right today?"
Lunch with Denys, she realized. And remembered she was still mad, if she were not so tranked down. It was strange—the way things went in and out of importance in the day. "He stopped my classes," she said. "Said I didn't have to go to class anymore except just for special help. Said I had too many tapes to do."
So what do I start with?That stupid thing. Like I had all kinds of time.
"Is it all right, sera?" Catlin was worried.
"It's all right." She shoved away from the doorframe and came to put napkins down. The oven timer was running down, a flicker of green readout. "I can handle it. I will handle it. Maybe he's even right: I've got a lot to go through. And it's not like I was losing the school." She leaned on a chair back. The timer went. "I'll miss the kids, though."
"Will we meet with them?" Florian asked.
"Oh, sure. Not that we won't." She grabbed her plate and held it out as Florian used the tongs to get the heated dinner from the oven. She took hers and sat down as Florian and Catlin served themselves and joined her.
Dinner. A little talk. Retreat to their rooms to study. It was the way it always had been—except she had her own office and they had their computer terminals and their House accesses through the Minder.
She went to her room to change. And sat down on the bed, wishing she had left the cabinet alone and knowing she was in trouble.
Bad trouble. Because she was good at saying no to herself when she saw a reason for it... but it got harder and harder to think of the reasons not to do what she wanted, because when she did refuse she got mad, and when she got mad that feeling was there.
She went and read Base One . . . long, long stretches of the trivial housekeeping records Ari senior had generated, just the way they themselves were doing, until she ran them past faster and faster. Who caredwhether Ari senior had wanted an order of tomatoes on the 28th September?
She thought about the tape library, about pulling up one of the Recommendeds and getting started with it. And finally thought that was probably the thing to do.
"Sera." It was Florian's voice through the Minder. "Excuse me. I'm doing the list. Do you want anything from Housekeeping?"
Bother and damnation.
"Just send it." A thought came, warm and tingly, and very, very dangerous. Then she said, deliberately, knowing it was stupid: "And come here a minute. My office."
"Yes, sera."
Stupid,she said to herself. And cruel. It'smean to do, dammit. Make up something else. Send him off on a job.
God. . . .
She thought about Ollie. The way she had thought about him all afternoon. Ollie with maman. Ollie when he had looked young and maman had. Maman had never had to be lonely. . . while Ollie was there. And Ollie never minded.
"Sera?" Florian said, a real voice, from the doorway.
"Log-off," she told Base One, and turned her chair around, and got up. "Come on in, Florian. —What's Catlin doing?"
"Studying. We have a manual to do. Just light tape. It—isn't something you need to Super, —is it? Should I stop her?"
"No. It's all right. Is it something really urgent?"
"No."
"Even if you were late? Even if you didn't get to it?"
"No, sera. They said—when we could. I think it would be all right. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to come to my room a minute," she said, and took him by the hand and walked him down the hall to her bedroom.
And shut the door once they were inside and locked it.
He looked at that and at her, concerned. "Is there some trouble, sera?"
"I don't know." She put her hands on his shoulders. Carefully. He twitched, hands moved, just a little defensive reaction, even if he knew she was going to do it. Uneasiness at being touched, the way he had reacted with Maddy once. "Is that all right? Do you mind that?"
"No, sera. I don't mind." He was still disturbed. His breathing got faster and deeper as she ran her hands down to his sides, and walked around behind him, and around again. Maybe he thought it was some kind of test. Maybe he understood. Another twitch, when she touched his chest.
She knew better. That was the awful thing. She was ashamed of herself all the way. She was afraid for Catlin and for him and none of it mattered, not for a moment.
She took a hard grip on his shoulder, friend-like. "Florian. Do you know about sex?"
He nodded. Once and emphatically.
"If you did it with me, would Catlin be upset?"
A shake of his head. A deep breath. "Not if you said it was right."
"Would yoube upset?"
Another shake of his head. "No, sera."
"Are you sure?"
A deep nod. Another breath. "Yes, sera." Another. "Can I go tell Catlin?"
"Now?"
"If it's going to be a while. She'll worry. I think I ought to tell her."
That was fair. There were complications in everything. "All right," she said. "Come right back."
v
He left sera to sleep, finally—he had slept a little while, but sera was restless. Sera said she was a little uncomfortable, and he could go back and sleep in his own bed, she was fine, she just wanted to sleep now and she wasn't used to company.
So he put his pants on, but he was only going to bed, so he carried the rest, and slipped out and shut the door.
But Catlin's room had the light on, and Catlin came out into the hall.
He stopped dead still. He wished he had finished dressing.
She just stood there a moment. So he walked on down as far as her room, past his own.
"All right?" she asked.
"I think so," he said. Sera was in a little discomfort, he had hurt sera, necessarily, because sera was built that way: sera said go on, and she had been happy with him, overall. He hoped. He truly hoped. "Sera said she wanted to sleep, I should go to bed. I'll do the manual tomorrow."
Catlin just looked at him, the way she did sometimes when she was confused, gut-deep open. He did not know what to say to her. He did not know what she wanted from him.
"How did it feel?"
"Good," he said on an irregular breath. Knowing then what he was telling her and how her mind had been running and was running then. Partners. For a lot of years. Catlin was curious. Some things went past her and she paid no attention. But if Catlin was interested this far, Catlin wanted to figure it out, the same way she would take a thing apart to understand it.
She said finally—he knew she was going to say—: "Can you show me? You think sera would mind?"
It was not wrong. He would have felt a tape-jolt about it if it were. He was tired. But if his partner wanted something, his partner got it, always, forever.
"All right," he said, trying to wake himself up and find the energy. And came into her room with her.
He undressed. So did she—which felt strange, because they had always been so modest, as much as they could, even in the field, and just not looked, if there was no cover.
But he was mostly the one who was embarrassed, because he had always had sex-feelings, he understood that now—while Catlin, who was so much more capable than he was in a lot of ways, missed so much that involved what sera called flux-values.
"Bed," he said, and turned back the covers and got under, because it was a little cold; and because bed was a comfortable, resting kind of place, and he knew Catlin would feel more comfortable about being up against him skin against skin in that context.
So she got in and lay on her side facing him, and got up against him when he told her she should, and relaxed when he told her to, even when he put his hand on her side and his knee between hers. "You let me do everything first," he said, and told her there was a little pain involved, but that was no more than a don't-react where Catlin was concerned. You didn't surprise her in things like that.
"All right," she said.
She couldreact, he found that out very fast, with his fingers.
He stopped. "It gets stronger. You want to keep going with this? Does that feel all right?"
She was thinking about it. Breathing hard. "Fine," she decided.
"You let that get started again," he said, "then you do the same with me. All right? Just like dancing. Variations. All right?"
She drew a deep, deep breath, and she took his advice, until he suddenly felt himself losing control. "Ease up," he said. "Stop."
She did. He managed all right then, finding it smoother with her than with sera—but of course it would be. Catlin would listen, even when it was hard to listen, and he had a far better idea this time what he was doing.
He warned her of things. She was as careful with him as he was with her, not to draw a surprise reaction: he had more confidence in her in that way too.
She did not put a mark on him. Sera had, a lot of them.
He finished; and said, out of breath: "Most I can do, Catlin. Sorry. Second round for me. I'm awfully tired."
She was quiet a minute, out of breath herself. "That was all right." In the thoughtful way she had when she approved of something.
He hugged her, on that warm feeling. She didn't always understand why he did things like that. He didn't think she had understood this time, just that it was temporary reflex, a sex thing, but when he kissed her on the forehead and said he had better get back to his own bed:
"You can stay here," she said, and sort of fitted herself to him puzzle-fashion and gave him a comfortable spot it was just easier not to leave.
They had to get up before sera anyway.
vi
Ari woke up at the Minder-call, remembered what she had done last night, and lay there for a minute remembering.
A little scared. A little sore. It had not been quite like the tapes—like real-life, a little awkward. But someone had said—the tape, she thought—that happens; even sex takes practice.
So they were twelve pushing thirteen real hard. Which was young. Her body wasn't through growing, Florian's wasn't. She knew that made a difference.
The tape had said so. "Does Ari have any reference on sex?" Ari asked
Base One.
But Base One only gave her the same thing it had always given, and she had read that so often she had it memorized.
She had been irresponsible, completely, last night, that was what kept eating at her. She could have hurt them, and the worst thing was she still could: this morning she was still on, —a whole lot cooler and calmer, but sex was just like the tape, hard to remember what it felt like the minute it was over, a damn cheat, leaving just a curiosity, something you kept picking at like a fool picking at a scab to see if it hurt—again.
It was hard to remember a whole lot of things when thatgot started.
Like responsibility. Like people you cared about.
Like who youwere.
Ari senior was right. It messed up your thinking. It couldtake over. Real easy.
Sex is when you're the most vulnerable you'll ever be. Brains is when you're least.
Damn those shots! They're Working me, that's what they're doing, they're Working me and I can't stop it, Dr. Ivanov can pull my license if I don't take them, and I know what they're doing, dammit!
That stuff is still in my bloodstream. I can still feel it. Hormones gone crazy.
And I still want to pull Florian in and try it again like a damn fool.
Fool, fool, fool, Ari Emory!
"Are you all right?" she cornered Florian to ask, before breakfast, in the hallway. Carefully. Careabout things. It was the only antidote.
"Yes, sera," Florian said, looking anxious—perhaps for being pulled alone out of the kitchen and far down the hall and backed against the wall, perhaps thinking they were going to go through it again.
Calm down. Don't confuse him. You've done enough, fool. She could hear maman, could hear maman clear when she did something stupid– Dammit, Ollie!"You're sure. I want you not to try to make me feel good, Florian. If I did something wrong, tell me."
"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "But, sera, —Catlin and I—she—I– Sera, I slept with her last night. We—did sex too. It felt all right—then. It wasall right, —wasn't it?"
Surge of hormones. Badtemper. Panic. She found her breath coming hard and folded her arms and turned away, looking at the stonework floor a moment until she could jerk herself sideways and back to sense.
Stupid, Ari. Real stupid. Look what's happened.
She's his partner, not me, what in hell am I being jealous for? I did a nasty thing to him and he doesn't even know it's not right.
Oh, dammit, Ari. Dammit!
Flux. That's what sex sets loose. A hell of a flux-state. Hormones. That's what's going on with me.
I wonder if I could writethis up for one of Dr. Dietrich's damn papers.
"But she's all right," she said, looking around at Florian—at a painfully worried Florian. "She is all right this morning, isn't she? I mean, you don't think it's messed anything up between you. That'swhat I'm worried about."
His face lightened, a cloud leaving. "Oh, no, sera. No. Just—we got to thinking about it– Sera, Catlin was just curious. You know how she is. If it was there she wants to know about it, and if it involved me—she—really needs to know, sera, she really needs to understand what's going on." The frown came back. "Anything I do—is her, too. It has to be."
She put her hand on his arm, took his hand and squeezed it hard. "Of course it does. It's all right. It's all right,Florian. I'm only upset if you two are. I don't blame you. I don't care what you did. I only worry I could have hurt you."
"No, sera." He believed everything. He would do anything. He looked terribly relieved. She took his arm through hers and held on to his hand, walking him back down the hall toward the kitchen where rattles and closings of doors said Catlin was busy.
"But Catlin's not as social as you. And sex is a hell of a jolt, Florian, an awful hormone load." But it's the flux-values it goes crazy with. Flux and feedback loop, brain and hormones interacting. That's what's going on with me. CIT processing. The whole environment fluxing in values. Even Florian doesn't flux-think that heavy."It didn't bother her—really?"
"I really don't think so. She said it—was sort of like a good workout."
A little laugh got away from her, just surprise on top of the angst, that left her less worried and more so, in different directions. "Oh, damn. Florian. I don't know everything I ought to. I wish I was azi, sometimes. I do. Keepan eye on Catlin. If her reactions aren't up to par, or yours aren't, I want to know it, I want to know it right then—call me if you have to stop an Exercise to do it, hear?"
"Yes, sera."
"I just worry—just worry because I'm responsible, that's all. And experimeriting around with us makes me nervous, because I can't go and ask, I just have to try things and I really need you to tell me if I do wrong with you. You object, hear me, you objectif you think I'm doing something I shouldn't."
"Yes, sera." Automatic as breathing.
They reached the kitchen. Catlin was setting out plates. Catlin looked up at them, a little query in the tension between her brows.
"No troubles with me," Ari said. "Florian told me everything. It's all right."
The tension went away, and Catlin gave one of her real smiles.
"He was real happy," Catlin said, the way she could go straight to the middle of something.
Of course Florian had been happy. His Super took him to bed and told him he was fine; sent him away in a heavy flux-state to deal with a Catlin fluxed as Catlin could get—her Super locking her out of the room and doing something emotional and mysterious with her partner.
So they wake up with thatload on them.
Fool, Ari. Upset them twice over, for all the wrong reasons. Can I do anything right?
They ate breakfast. Pass the salt. More coffee, sera?—While her stomach stayed upset and she tried to think and look cheerful at the same time.
Then: "Florian," she said, finally. "Catlin."
Two perfectly attentive faces turned to her, open as flowers to light.
"About last night—we're really pretty young yet. Maybe it's good to get experience with each other, so we don't get fluxed too badly if we do it with other people, because it's a way people can Work you. But the last thing we need to do is start Working each other, not meaning to, even if it is fun, because it sure gets through your guard. It got through mine."
It was Catlin she was talking to, most. And Catlin said: "It does that." With her odd laugh, difficult to catch as her true smile. "You could use that."
"You sure could," she said finally, steadier than she had been. The flux diminished, steadily, now that she knew her way. "But it's hard for CITs. I'mhaving flux problems . . . nothing I can't handle. You'll have to get used to me being just a little onnow and again; it doesn't last, it doesn't hurt me, it's part of sex with CITs, and I know I'm not supposed to discuss my psych problems with you—but now I'm onto it, I've got my balance. Nothing at all unnatural for a CIT. You know a little about it. I can tell you a lot more. I think maybe I should—use mefor an example, to start with. You aren't used to flux—" Looking straight at Catlin. "Not real strong, anyway. You did fine when Florian got hurt. But that's something you knew about. This is all new, it feels good, and it's an Older thing. Like wine. If you feel uneasy about it, you tell Florian or you tell me, all right?"
"All right," Catlin said, wide-open and very serious. "But Florian's had tape about it already, so he's all right. If he doesn't get a nowith me it's just something he's the specialist at, that's all. But I can learn it all right."
