Pegasus In Space

"You should keep in touch with what else goes on in the world, Peter," Rhyssa said. She ignored the pile of visuals that he seemed to spend a lot of time reviewing.

"I watch the newscasts. But I need to work!" He put a lot of feeling in that statement. "I was safer on Padrugoi!" he added sullenly.

She accepted that remark with equanimity and yielded to the inevitable, getting Rick Hobson to replace the old generator outside Peter's room with a much heavier new one. Though Peter hadn't said it, she knew he was keen to get back to Padrugoi and further EVAs, or whatever that pile of visuals he kept examining represented. If doing some work delayed his return until his bones were fully healed, she must be grateful.

When the members of the fraternity that had disrupted his birthday celebration were brought to trial, his name-and that of the Eastern Parapsychic Center-was not mentioned. Space Authority's bureaucracy had so decreed. The restaurant actually filed the complaint and appeared as plaintiff. The severe fine, awarded to the restaurant, depleted the group's treasury and effectively disbanded them. Those whom LEO had charged with drunk and disorderly conduct were sentenced to three months' community service. Not all at the dinner had overindulged, though; as the judge remarked in delivering his verdict, they should have restrained their offending colleagues. The two who had crashed into Peter had heavier fines and were given a six months' sentence for the grievous bodily harm of an unidentified diner. One of them, a man in his middle years who had held the position of deputy chief in the fraternity, made certain allegations about what he'd do when he was free again. His threats, for that's what the listeners took them as, were duly noted down by Cass Cutler, who had attended the court hearings in her capacity as crowd-control empath.

In his third visit to Peter at Dorotea's, Johnny Greene brought Admiral Coetzer's representations to Rhyssa that Peter could actually return to Padrugoi: his welfare would be their constant concern.

"I know I'm being protective," Rhyssa told Johnny Greene and, seeing his expression, added, "possibly overprotective but the medical opinion is that we'd be smarter to let him heal both from the breaks and the trauma of the affair."

"Trauma?" Johnny asked, eyebrows rising on his forehead. Then his expression of surprised dismay altered. "Well, I suppose it was. I certainly 'felt' how he hates hospitals. It's just that Coetzer needs him badly." He came to an abrupt halt.

Rhyssa caught something in his voice that sounded false. What are you up to now, Greene?

He gave her a wide-eyed innocent stare.

And don't try that on me. Let me guess. You and Coetzer need all that stuff Peter keeps looking at on the Moon, don't you? Rhyssa said.

"Yeah, to be honest."

Rhyssa gave him a long hard look. "And you want that boy…"

"He's not a kid any longer, Rhyssa," Johnny interrupted. "And we both know I don't have Peter's heft."

"You think he could 'port as far as the Moon?" Privately Rhyssa thought Peter was capable of such a feat but that was loyalty speaking, unsupported by proof. They still hadn't reached the limit of his thrust.

"Lance thinks so," Johnny replied. "I do, too." It was not yet the time to tell her about Peter's Bollard Bag special lunar delivery.

"He isn't well enough," Rhyssa said almost too quickly. And flushed as Johnny cocked an eyebrow at her for her vehemence.

"We'll be glad to have him back when and as soon as he's well enough. Got any guesstimate I can placate Dirk with?"

"He's only been home two weeks. Give him another month. At least."

Johnny snorted in disgust, caught her determination not to let Peter be rushed, and nodded. "Three weeks maybe?" His expression beseeched her.

"Only if the scan shows those bones are completely knit."

"I thought they were! Okay, I'll just pop in and see how he's doing."

Peter was doing fine. When Johnny arrived, Amariyah was giving him his daily massage. Since Peter wasn't yet allowed to continue his daily Reeve Board exercises, massage with healing oils was at least an alternative passive muscle toning. Amariyah had watched the therapist until she knew each of the movements and then insisted that she be allowed to help. The therapist had remarked on how strong her hands were.

"All that gardening," Peter said teasingly.

Despite his lack of physical sensations, Peter always felt better after a massage. Oddly enough, Dorotea noticed that he wasn't as nervous with Amariyah as he was with the therapist, an attractive girl as well as an empath. Dorotea was also keen to have Amariyah take on a change of duty from Teacher and her garden. If she tended toward caring, that would be a good career for her and might nourish whatever Talent Amariyah had. Gardening was, in its own way, a form of nurturing.

"Well, hi there, skeleteam," Johnny said, peering into Peter's room.

"Heard you coming," Peter said, prone on the massage plinth, not bothering to turn his head toward the visitor. "Any luck on getting me back up to Padrugoi?"