cold and pulled them away, rubbing at them. A moment later, they started heating again. (
What do I do now?
) he asked Jackie, looking up at her. (
I can feel the holy fire—n
o
n
pyrokinetic
fire, I told you how it’s a different kind of heat—and I’m not very practiced at using it.
)
(
Ask Maria if you can touch her patient,
) Jackie directed him. (
Actually, I’ll do it.
)
“Maria, let Li’eth lay hands on the corporal. I’ll go tell . . .”
She broke off as a trio of silver-suited figures hurried into the kitchen. “Out of the way!” the lead figure ordered. All three of them carried cases that, while not exactly like Maria’s, undoubtedly carried a number of similar things. “Clear the area! What’s the emergency?”
Maria remembered her V’Dan vocabulary. “The emergency is for something
your
people do not even have the words to describe. Back off and let me do my work. Here, you hold this mask over her face. Keep her breathing.”
“Excuse me, child, but you do not—”
“Meioas!” Jackie snapped, halting the lead figure as the . . . man? . . . stooped to reach for Maria’s shoulder. The voice could have been contralto or tenor, and the frame was slender. “Allow me to introduce
Doctor
Maria de la Santoya, chief medical officer of the Terran embassy. Apologize, and
move back
.”
The crouching figure hesitated, then slowly rose and stepped back. Maria finished examining the male soldier, then reached for her epinephrine equipment. Swapping out the needle and adding a fresh ampoule, she injected the male in the thigh and began massaging the muscle, no doubt under the theory of better safe than sorry, though his face was no longer quite so blotchy even if it was still a little puffy. Jackie explained for her, since she was busy with her patients.
“Our doctor is medicating and monitoring two patients who are apparently suffering from medical conditions which your people have not suffered in over ninety-five
centuries
. At least, according to your holy texts,” Jackie added. That caused the trio to exchange awkward looks, thanks to the limited fields of view in their silvered quarantine suits.
(
. . . The heat is gone. Either they’re going to die anyway, and there’s nothing more I can do for them,
) Li’eth half jokedgrimly, removing his hands from the corporal’s knees, the closest part he had been able to touch, (
or my holy gift isn’t needed anymore because they might actually recover. Saints certainly know, because I don’t.
)
(
A lot of biokinetics work that way,
) she reassured him. (
Nobody
has
to use their psychic gifts if they don’t want to, not even medical gifts—it falls under the heading of “bodily autonomy”—but ones like that often trigger anyway when needed.
)
“. . . Is this condition contagious?” one of the silver-suited V’Dan asked.
Jackie shook her head. “It is caused by exposure to certain foods, insect bites, flower pollens, and so forth. It can also vary from person to person. In this case, they ate one of the local fruits. Their bodies went into shock, with itching, stinging, rashes, swelling, and loss of blood pressure. The medicine applied by Dr. de la Santoya is usually very effective at managing the symptoms, but the onset was rapid, and they will require careful monitoring over the next day or so. You will assist our doctor, but
she
is in charge of these cases, as this is something you are not trained to manage.”
“Under
no
account is anyone to be allowed into any places where plants are growing, nor are they to be allowed access to
any
V’Dan food supplies,” Maria added sternly, done with checking the soldier. She moved back to check on the corporal, and nodded. “You six, you are their squad mates?”
“Doctor, yes, sir,” one of the remaining Marines confirmed. “We were to report to the galley for K.P. as soon as our gear was stowed in our cabins. Are Corporal Chaluley and Private Thompson going to be
Muriel Barbery, Alison Anderson