The Child Goddess Read Online Free PDF Page A

farther than the distance between the island of the anchens and the three islands of the people.
    Oa wondered if those who kept her here knew she wasn’t one of them. Maybe they didn’t know about the tatwaj. When she began to understand what they said, when the words began to form ideas in her mind, the man called Doctor had asked her how old she was. She held up her arms for him to count, but he didn’t seem to understand. They must not understand, or they wouldn’t bring her food, and toys, and books. Yet they let the spider machine crawl over her every day. It made no sense to Oa.
    She pulled the sweater tighter around her shoulders. Sometimes she thought she had not been warm since she left Virimund, since they took her in the awful noisy flyer that stank of fear and anger, and then up to the ship, which smelled of nothing. She huddled on the bed, the fuzzy toy nestled close in her arms. It, too, was not-real, but it had picked up the scent of a person. A child, perhaps. She buried her face in its plush body.
    *
    ISABEL WAS SURPRISED at what Gretchen Boreson had referred to as the infirmary. It looked more like a small hospital, with a waiting room, several treatment rooms, each with a medicator, and a small inpatient ward, three single rooms and a tiny lounge. All the rooms were deserted now, dark and empty, except for the inpatient ward. Outside the building, three armed Port Force guards clustered under the eaves, out of the rain. Inside, one woman stood guard before the quarantine bubble that had been erected around the door to the ward. A long window opened on the room, obviously mirrored on the opposite side. Isabel and Boreson and Markham stood before it, looking in on the child.
    Someone had tried to turn the little lounge into a bedroom, with a small plastic table and two child-sized chairs, and a bed fitted into the corner. A wavephone receptor and wand hung on one wall, antenna glistening. A large reader was built into the opposite wall. A small portable reader lay on one of the chairs. A doll and an assortment of mechanical playthings were lined up in a neat row on the table.
    The girl crouched on the bed, her back to the corner. She wore a vivid pink sweater. She held a brown teddy bear, her face buried against it. All Isabel could see of her were thin legs, sharp knees, a cascade of kinky black hair. A child, snatched from her people, transported through space, without concern for her welfare. Isabel trembled with fury.
    “Why is she still in quarantine?” she asked in a tight voice. “It’s been more than fourteen months! Surely if she had any sort of communicable illness, the medicator’s taken care of it?”
    She felt, rather than saw, Boreson and Markham glance at each other. Boreson said, “We wanted to be certain.”
    “How can you not be certain? Who has been examining her?”
    Boreson said, “The doctor’s on his way now.”
    “But you know what he’s found.”
    “I’m not a doctor. Mother Burke. Dr. Adetti says he’s still assessing.”
    The girl lifted her head as if she could sense their presence. Her great eyes glittered under the lights, irises dark against astonishingly clear whites.
    Isabel put her hand to her throat. “So young,” she breathed.
    No one else spoke. Isabel watched the child unfold her legs, pull her hair free of the pink sweater, and climb off the bed. She laid the teddy bear carefully on her pillow, and walked toward the mirrored window.
    Isabel turned abruptly to the guard. “Let me in.” The guard nodded.
    “Wait, Mother Burke,” Boreson said uneasily. “Wait for the doctor.”
    “You really should,” Markham said. “A few more minutes can’t hurt.”
    Isabel ignored them. “Open the door, please,” she said to the guard. The Port Forceman’s eyes kindled, and Isabel knew the woman had been waiting for someone, anyone, to do something for this child.
    “Mother Burke,” Boreson began again.
    Isabel spun to face her. “Administrator,” she