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don't have any more time. Go back to where you were sitting and remain there until you're told what to
do."
A voice, a neutral, dispassionate voice, neither male nor female, a kind of perfect intelligence,
spoke inside Herb Asher's head. "At Bethesda they want to study her disease."
He started visibly. The agent regarded him.
"At Bethesda," he said, "they want to study her disease."
"Research?"
''It's a microorganism."
"You said it isn't contagious."
The neutral voice said, "Not at this stage."
"Not at this stage," he said aloud.
"Are they afraid of plague?" the Immigration agent said abruptly.
Herb Asher nodded.
"Go back to your seat." The agent, irritably, waved him away. "This is out of my jurisdiction. You
have a pink form, form 368? Properly filled out and signed by a doctor?"
"Yes." It was true.
"Are either you or the older man with you infected?"
The voice inside his head said, "Only Bethesda can determine that." He had, suddenly, a vivid
inner glimpse of the person whose voice he heard; he saw in his own mind a visage, female, a placid
but strong face. A metal mask had been pushed back from that visage, exposing wise, impassive eyes;
a beautiful classic face, like Athena; he was staggered with astonishment. This could not be Yahweh.
This was a woman. But like no woman he had ever seen. He did not know her. He did not understand
who this was. Her voice was not Yah's voice, and this could not be Yah's visage. He did not could not
be Yah's visage. He did not know what to make of it. He was perplexed beyond the telling of it. Who
had taken on the task of advising him?
"Only Bethesda can determine that," he managed to say.
The Immigration agent paused uncertainly. His exterior harshness had evaporated.
The female voice whispered again, and this time, in his mind, he saw her lips move. "Time is of
the essence.
"Time is of the essence," Herb Asher said. His voice grated in his own ears.
"Shouldn't you be quarantined? You probably shouldn't be with other people. Those other
passengers We should have you on a special ship. It can be arranged. It might be better & we could
get her there faster."
"OK," he said. Reasonably.
"I'll put in a call," the Immigration agent said. "What's the name of this microorganism? It's a
virus?"
"The nerve sheathing "
"Never mind. Go back to your seat. Look." The Immigration agent followed after him. "I don't
know whose idea it was to send you on a commercial carrier, but I'm getting you off of it right now.
There are strict statutes that haven't been observed, here. Bethesda is expecting you? Do you want me
to put in a call ahead, or is that all taken care of?"
"She is registered with them already." This was so. The arrangements had been made.
"This is really nuts," the Immigration agent said, "to put you on a public carrier. They should have
known better back at Fomalhaut."
"CY3O-CY3OB," Herb Asher said.
"Whatever. I don't want any part of this. A mistake of this kind " The Immigration agent cursed.
"Some dumb fool back at Fomalhaut probably figured it'd save the taxpayers a few bucks Take your
seat and I'll see that you're notified when your ship is ready. It should Christ."
Herb Asher, shaking, returned to his seat.
Elias eyed him. Rybys lay with her eyes shut; she was oblivious to what was happening.
"Let me ask you a question," Herb said to Elias. "Have you ever tasted Laphroaig Scotch?"
"No," Elias said, puzzled.
"It is the finest of all Scotches," Herb said. "Ten years old, very expensive. The distillery opened in
1815. They use traditional copper stills. It requires two distillations "
"What went on in there?" Elias said.
"Just let me finish. Laphroaig is Gaelic for 'the beautiful hollow by the broad bay.' It's distilled on
Islay in the Western Isles of Scotland. Malted barley they dry it in a kiln over a peat fire, a genuine
peat fire. It's the only Scotch made that way now. The peat can only be found on the island of Islay.
Maturation takes place in oak casks. It's incredible Scotch. It's the finest liquor in the world. It's " He
broke off.
An Immigration agent came over to them. "Your ship is here, Mr. Asher. Come with me. Can your
wife walk? You want some help?"
"Already?" He was dumbfounded. And then he realized that the ship had been there all this time.
Immigration was routinely prepared to deal with emergency situations. Especially of this kind. Or
rather, what they supposed this situation to be.
"Who wears a metal mask?" Herb said to Elias as he drew the blanket from Rybys. "Pushed back
up over her hair. And has a straight nose, a very strong nose well, let it go. Give me a hand."
Together, he and Elias got Rybys to her feet. The Immigration agent watched sympathetically.
"I don't know," Elias said.
"There is someone else," Herb said as they moved Rybys step by step up the aisle.
"I'm going to throw up," Rybys said weakly.
"Just hang on," Herb Asher said. "We're almost there."
Big Noodle notified Cardinal Fulton Statler Harms and the Procurator Maximus, and then, to all [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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