Damia's Children by Anne McCaffrey Page A

as Mur’s hiccups developed into a distressed pattern that was plainly worrying Dip.
    Thian knew he had to get both ’Dinis out of the noise, confusion, and bad air as fast as possible.
    â€œExcuse me, lieutenant,” he said and clutched him by the shoulder just long enough for a quick scan. As Thian had anticipated, the man had a picture in his mind of where he would be guiding this party. “I’ll meet you there.”
    He gathered Mur and Dip in his arms and ’ported them all to the cabin Auster-Kiely had envisioned. It was small, but it had what he needed: a bunk on which he deposited Mur in an upright position, propping it with the pillow and sleepsak, before he swung round to the tiny basin, turned the water spigot on to soak the towel he whippedoff the rack, and also filled a glass. As he turned back to the bunk, he noticed that the water was an odd off-clear shade and even a foot away from his nose, he could smell the chemicals used in recycling. But it was moisture. He held it against the appropriate orifice on Mur’s upper torso and watched the level being ingested while Mur valiantly struggled to suppress another series of hiccups. When partial success was obvious, Thian refilled the glass and offered it.
    Mur clicked in weak protest.
    ALL THERE IS , Thian said firmly and proffered the liquid. This time the hiccups completely subsided. Dip had wrung out the towel and was now laying it against Mur’s upper torso. Mur sagged into the supports, but its pelt color was not returning to a normal hue, and the two lids were still covering the poll eye. BETTER AIR NEEDED ? Thian asked.
    WISE , was Dip’s reply but it added a questioning suffix.
    DOUBLE WISE , Thian said, feeling a soreness develop in the back of his throat which he knew had to be from the air though what was in the cabin was not as contaminated as the air in the shuttle bay. How the navy could operate in this atmosphere was beyond him. He swung round now to the compact room terminal, wriggling his fingers as he held them above the keyboard indecisively.
    Sick bay! That’s what he needed.
    There was a hesitant tap on the door.
    â€œYes,” and he reached out to throw the latch. The young lieutenant stood there, a rating behindhim, holding Thian’s belongings and the two ’Dini pouches.
    â€œThanks,” Dip said in a guttural approximation and both seamen stared down at it in utter astonishment.
    â€œI didn’t know they could speak Basic,” Auster-Kiely said in an awed whisper.
    â€œThese ’Dinis can, though their responses are limited to the words they can get their vocal equipment to sound,” Thian said. “But look, Mur here is not pulling round as it should.”
    â€œHe . . . it . . . even looks sick,” Auster-Kiely replied, his eyes goggling.
    â€œYou don’t have a ’Dini medic on board here, do you?”
    â€œOn the
Vadim?
” The question startled the lieutenant.
    â€œThere
is
a ’Dini ship in this squadron, though, isn’t there?”
    â€œTwo!”
    â€œHow do I contact one? Mur needs more help than I can provide,” and indeed the gasps coming from the ’Dini were causing Dip great consternation to judge by the alteration of its own pelt color. It proffered another glass of water to Mur.
    â€œNo wonder it’s sick if you’re giving him
washing
water,” cried Auster-Kiely, pointing agitatedly at the basin and then at the small cylinder above it: plainly marked “drinking water.”
    Thian groaned, scrubbing at his face and wondering how he could have been so stupid. Auster-Kiely pushed past him now and began tapping keys.
    â€œSir, medical emergency in Mr. Lyon’s quarters.A Mrdini illness. Urgently request contact with ’Dini vessel and their medic.”
    â€œThanks, Kiely,” Thian said, leaning weakly against the wall. And he thought himself so responsible that the