airproof plastic. "It looks bad, but it's merely into the fatty wall, not the abdominal cavity." He showed Stenog the damaged windpipe. "That's the worst."
"I think I see the building euthanor," Stenog said in an affable voice. "Yes, somebody must have called him. Do you want him to assist you?"
"No," Parsons said.
"It's your decision," Stenog said. "I won't interfere." He was staring at Parsons with curiosity.
My speech, Parsons thought. But he could not worry about that, now. At least he had altered the color of his skin. My eyes! He realized suddenly. As Wade said: unpigmented.
I have to save this girl's life, he decided. That's first.
With the official watching over his shoulder, he continued his job of healing the girl.
"I failed to catch your name," Stenog said unobtrusively.
"Parsons," he answered.
"That's an odd name," Stenog said. "What does it mean?"
"Nothing," Parsons said.
"Oh?" Stenog murmured. He was silent, then, for a time, as Parsons worked. "Interesting," he said at last.
A second shape appeared beside Stenog. Parsons, taking a moment to glance up, saw a carefully groomed, handsome man with something under his arm, a kit of some kind. The euthanor.
"It's all over," Parsons said. "I took care of her."
"I'm a little late," the euthanor admitted. "I was out of the building." His eyes strayed, as he took in the sight of the girl. "Did this occur here? In the hotel?"
Stenog said, "No, Parsons brought her in from the street." To Parsons he said in his smooth voice, "A vehicle accident? Or an assault? You neglected to say."
Parsons simply didn't answer; he concentrated on the final portion of the job.
The girl would live. In another half minute her life would have ebbed out of her throat and chest, and then nothing would have saved her. His skill, his knowledge, had saved her life, and these two men--evidently respected individuals in this society--were witnesses to it.
"I can't follow your work," the euthanor admitted. "I've never seen anything like it. Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you learn techniques like that?" To Stenog he said, "I'm completely baffled. I don't recognize any of his accessories."
"Perhaps Parsons will tell us," Stenog said softly. "Of course, this is hardly the time. A little later, no doubt."
"Does it matter," Parsons said, "where I come from, or who I am?"
Stenog said, "I've been informed that there's police action going on around the corner. This girl might be from that event, possibly. You were passing nearby, found the girl injured on the street, brought her . . ."
His voice trailed off questioningly, but Parsons said nothing.
Now Icara was beginning to regain consciousness. She gave a faint cry and moved her arms.
There was a moment of stunned silence. "What does this mean?" the euthanor demanded.
"I've been successful," Parsons said irritably. "Better get her into a bed. There's damage that'll have to heal over a period of weeks." What did they expect, a miracle? "But there's no longer any danger."
"No longer any danger?" Stenog repeated.
"That's right," Parsons said. What was the matter with them? "She'll recover. Understand?"
In a slow, cautious voice, Stenog said, "Then in what sense have you been successful?"
Parsons stared at him, and Stenog stared back with a faintly contemptuous expression.
Examining the girl, the euthanor began to tremble. "I understand," he said in a choked voice. "You pervert! You maniac!"
As if he were enjoying the situation, Stenog said in a pleasant, light voice, "Parsons, you've blatantly healed the girl. Isn't that a fact? These are therapeutic devices you have here. I'm amazed." He seemed almost to laugh. "Well, of course you're under arrest. You realize that." With firmness, he moved the furious-faced euthanor back. "I'll handle this," he said. "This is my business, not yours. You can go. If you're needed as a witness, my office will get in touch with you."
As the euthanor reluctantly left, Parsons found
"I think I see the building euthanor," Stenog said in an affable voice. "Yes, somebody must have called him. Do you want him to assist you?"
"No," Parsons said.
"It's your decision," Stenog said. "I won't interfere." He was staring at Parsons with curiosity.
My speech, Parsons thought. But he could not worry about that, now. At least he had altered the color of his skin. My eyes! He realized suddenly. As Wade said: unpigmented.
I have to save this girl's life, he decided. That's first.
With the official watching over his shoulder, he continued his job of healing the girl.
"I failed to catch your name," Stenog said unobtrusively.
"Parsons," he answered.
"That's an odd name," Stenog said. "What does it mean?"
"Nothing," Parsons said.
"Oh?" Stenog murmured. He was silent, then, for a time, as Parsons worked. "Interesting," he said at last.
A second shape appeared beside Stenog. Parsons, taking a moment to glance up, saw a carefully groomed, handsome man with something under his arm, a kit of some kind. The euthanor.
"It's all over," Parsons said. "I took care of her."
"I'm a little late," the euthanor admitted. "I was out of the building." His eyes strayed, as he took in the sight of the girl. "Did this occur here? In the hotel?"
Stenog said, "No, Parsons brought her in from the street." To Parsons he said in his smooth voice, "A vehicle accident? Or an assault? You neglected to say."
Parsons simply didn't answer; he concentrated on the final portion of the job.
The girl would live. In another half minute her life would have ebbed out of her throat and chest, and then nothing would have saved her. His skill, his knowledge, had saved her life, and these two men--evidently respected individuals in this society--were witnesses to it.
"I can't follow your work," the euthanor admitted. "I've never seen anything like it. Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you learn techniques like that?" To Stenog he said, "I'm completely baffled. I don't recognize any of his accessories."
"Perhaps Parsons will tell us," Stenog said softly. "Of course, this is hardly the time. A little later, no doubt."
"Does it matter," Parsons said, "where I come from, or who I am?"
Stenog said, "I've been informed that there's police action going on around the corner. This girl might be from that event, possibly. You were passing nearby, found the girl injured on the street, brought her . . ."
His voice trailed off questioningly, but Parsons said nothing.
Now Icara was beginning to regain consciousness. She gave a faint cry and moved her arms.
There was a moment of stunned silence. "What does this mean?" the euthanor demanded.
"I've been successful," Parsons said irritably. "Better get her into a bed. There's damage that'll have to heal over a period of weeks." What did they expect, a miracle? "But there's no longer any danger."
"No longer any danger?" Stenog repeated.
"That's right," Parsons said. What was the matter with them? "She'll recover. Understand?"
In a slow, cautious voice, Stenog said, "Then in what sense have you been successful?"
Parsons stared at him, and Stenog stared back with a faintly contemptuous expression.
Examining the girl, the euthanor began to tremble. "I understand," he said in a choked voice. "You pervert! You maniac!"
As if he were enjoying the situation, Stenog said in a pleasant, light voice, "Parsons, you've blatantly healed the girl. Isn't that a fact? These are therapeutic devices you have here. I'm amazed." He seemed almost to laugh. "Well, of course you're under arrest. You realize that." With firmness, he moved the furious-faced euthanor back. "I'll handle this," he said. "This is my business, not yours. You can go. If you're needed as a witness, my office will get in touch with you."
As the euthanor reluctantly left, Parsons found
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