Pegasus In Space

Amariyah had not lost her knack of massage. Relaxing as her hands gently soothed muscles and tendons, Peter wondered idly how long it was going to take him to move physically, rather than telekinetically. He mocked himself. Amariyah had already performed one miracle. It was up to him to make his way forward.

She extracted payment from him in the form of another tour of her gardens, the ones they'd missed after breakfast. He wondered what Ted and the other groundsmen had left to do. There are all those lawns!

Peter, Dorotea, and Amariyah appeared at Rhyssa's home in time for him to spend half an hour with Eoin and Chester while he told them a suitably edited account of his trip to the Moon.

Over dinner, Peter was able to tell Rhyssa and an attentive Dave more of what had been done. He tried not to wax too excited about seeing the asteroid on the Farside Telescope or the conversations that had ensued. Rhyssa knew that he had taken an astronomy course and would have been interested in that facet of First Base. Nothing more was said about Shimaz, Flimflam, and the "problem" with Limo-34. Dave did mention that all the Parapsychic Centers were actively recruiting: he was in charge of the publicity campaign.

On the way home that night, Peter wondered if Dorotea was aware that they were being "followed."

I'm not that feeble in the wits by any means, Peter Reidinger.

Thank God, Amariyah already has her hair stranded. They've put her in the 'at risk' category, you know. There will be no way she can be removed from these premises, I assure you.

He used the excuse of fatigue when Amariyah tried to cajole him into a trip to the Mall to the Old-Fashioned Parlor of Gastronomical Delights.

"But I got a new dress just to wear there with you. I'll give you another massage. A better one."

Peter chuckled. "I'm also on a strict diet to build muscle and strengthen bones and it doesn't include chocolate sundaes with every topping known to gourmets. I'll bring one in for you, if you like, and you may eat it in your room so I'm not tempted."

That was not quite what Amariyah had in mind but Peter could be as stubborn as she could. They compromised. She could wear the dress and he'd watch her eat the sundae.

The dress was blue, beautifully cut, another example of Tirla's elegant taste. Maree would soon be eleven. He must be back down here for her birthday. No, better still, he'd invite her up to Padrugoi. No use taking chances.

She had heard the physio recommend to Peter that he exercise his fingers to increase their dexterity and improve finer motor control. Although the physio thought he should try playing piano or a stringed instrument or sketching, Amariyah thought that weeding would be equally therapeutic and more useful. He said he wanted to learn how to draw. She said he could use her lightpen-she had the very best one on the market, which she used to plan her garden beds-if he'd help her weed. He agreed.

In fact, he spent a lot of time using the lightpen, clumsily at first, but gradually with more finesse. He got so he could sketch "South America" rather deftly. Then he doodled, as Johnny Greene did, only he doodled asteroids tumbling or spinning through space on their axes, or atmosphere domes and generator units. For instance, his own 60 MHz Gadriel gestalt circuits tuned to C major.

Six days later, Peter was at least refreshed when he 'ported himself to the Jerhattan telepad after Cass duly escorted him to the Center's pad. He'd kept to the Center's grounds, chatted with the young people who had just started training, and played with Rhyssa's children, and Tirla's, for she came three times. "Checking on you," she said, radiating approval of his physical breakthrough.

He waited for Johnny by the personnel carrier. The general arrived, his skin ruddy with new color, his nose peeling, and his whole manner bursting with renewed vigor.

"You obviously had a great time," Peter said, almost grudgingly.

"Sally wasn't campaigning anywhere," Johnny said, his eyes sparkling. "My sons remembered that I was their father and I got rid of my Padrugoi pallor. Now I can take another four weeks of lifting bales and toting barges." He looked Peter up and down. "How'd you get on?"

"I got seven more massages from Amariyah!" And those were actually the high points of Peter's week home.

"You didn't tell Maree your suspicions?" Johnny raised his eyebrows in a query. Peter shook his head.

"No, nothing was even whispered in her vicinity. We're to let her develop at her own pace."

"And how's your forward pace?"

Peter's shrug was a looser, more natural movement than his previous imitations of the gesture. "We'll see what this week's tests reveal, if anything, and Mike's assessment of my muscular strength."

"Our chariot awaits," Johnny said, gesturing to the shell. "I dare you to walk that far."

"Oh, no. You're going to have to wait like all the others for my-"