Destiny's Road Part 44

He went back inside to a ringing phone.

Jeremy had never gotten used to the phone. He almost never answered its flash and bell. He was only the pit chef, after all; he owned no part of Wave Rider. Barry and Chloe had bought out part of Harlow's share-Never mind. In the absence of Karen and Brenda, they expected him to answer. "Wave Rider Inn, speak to me."

A young man's head and shoulders, half familiar. Man's voice.

"Who've I got?"

"Pit chef Jeremy."

"Karen's man? Brenda talked to Eileen. Yesterday. Dreadful thing.

Anything new?"

Jeremy knew him now. Johannes Wheeler had married his eldest daughter Eileen.

Jeremy tried to think: not easy since Karen's accident had shattered his world. "Let's see, they took her to the hospital day before yesterday, and Brenda called this morning. They're treating her as a burn patient, I guess. I don't know medical terms. Cultured skin transplant?"

The cameo bust of Johannes stared at him. "Means she's lost huge amounts of skin!"

Jeremy settled to a squat so that he wouldn't faint. Johannes must have noticed. "Hey, hey. They mean superskin. They're putting skin back from the cultures in Medical. She'll grow it back, Jeremy!"

"Grow it back."

"Why aren't you with her?"

"Somebody had to take care of the inn." Jeremy remembered that these two had bought out part of Harlow's piece of Wave Rider. "Then again, the Barenblatts are gone. Now it's just us."

"Can you handle it?"

"Just barely, with three of us missing." Tell Eileen I can't come to Destiny Town.

"Well, I can't get away, but we wondered if Eileen should come early. No? Well, you've got our number. And Brenda says her mother is calling for you, and she says they've found your records."

"My records?" Earth, he felt stupid. Karen was half his brain. But what could she have meant?

"You were having trouble with your credit record, I guess, but Brenda says it's all straightened out. Look, if you can get to the hospital, I think you should, and soon. Karen's been asking for you, and Brenda sounded scared."

After he hung up, he stood staring through the empty s.p.a.ce above the phone projector. They found his records?

Did he dare call Brenda and ask? Brenda was staying with Harlow.

They'd given him the number.

Better not. But he knew how to summon a credit check! He typed in Jeremy W~05l0~ @99.200@.

-a reasonable price for a meal for eight.

Green.

Somehow he was in the computer.

He used the phone once more, to get a schedule for the next bus to Destiny Town.

*28*

Destiny T0~11 Most species on Barth aren't adventurous. They occupy one habitat, and ~f it fails, they go extinct. The Otterfolk shouldn't have surprised us. .

Maybe most intelligent species can't travel.

-Wayne Parnelli, Marine Biology A big square bus and the tug pulling it came the next morning. A swing of his arm flagged it down, a gesture Jeremy had seen a thousand times, and never used himself. He climbed up into a box full of indifferent strangers, stowed his backpack, chose a seat.

As soon as Jeremy was settled, it took off at a scary fifty klicks an hour down the Road, straight into the horizon.

When the caravan was in, Wave Rider seethed with strangers. They didn't press this close, though, because too often he was holding something sharp or something hot. At the pit, his word was law, and any strangers about him were in his charge. Here. . . The bus was no more than half-full. They weren't staring, they weren't hostile, yet he couldn't meet their eyes.

He looked out the windows. He got used to the speed and the shaking, and even dozed for a time.

He woke afraid that he'd missed the Swan. But when the bus stopped an hour later, he recognized the bridge. It had a new handrail and new paint. It still sagged almost to the water under a big painted sign: CORSO'S CAMp WAIKIKI.

Six older children crossed the old bridge to the bus. They chattered as the bus moved on. The pa.s.sengers paid not the slightest attention to a landslide slope not much farther on, site of an old climbing accident never discovered or long forgotten.

Terminus was bigger than Twerdahl Town. The buildings were old and blocky and oppressively ma.s.sive, like nothing he'd seen short of the Windfarm.

Still, the town wasn't dying. A street fair was buzzing along the Road.

The bus stopped to let a .dozen people get off, and near as many got on.

Another hour pa.s.sed. Here were more houses, then a line of stores.

Side streets multiplied. The bus stopped frequently, and now it was easing through foot and bicycle traffic.

You're supposed to have seen it all before.

Nothing he saw stood above three stories. Newer structures had a lighter feel, but as the bus moved deeper into town he saw ma.s.sive blocky buildings like those in Terminus. It was as if Cavorite's crew built to withstand some terror left behind on old Earth. Coriolis-driven storms spun off from the Winds. Earthshakes.

Guessing, he was guessing. But he was close enough to taste the answers. All the answers! Ticking in the back of his mind was the certainty that he was nearing the end of the Road. How could he have lived so close for so long?

Stop staring!

He'd grown up with as much variety, if not quite the same styles.

When traffic slowed, he looked for the oldest buildings to encroach on the Road as they did in Spiral Town.

The shops along this part of the Road were marked by signs; few had holograms, and those were faint in daylight. The glowing ghost of a man-high fur hat caught his attention. The hologram letters were too dim to read, but there was a painted sign too. ROMANOFF.

The Road curved gently right, then gently left. Still the buildings stood well clear of the Road.

Jeremy suddenly realized that he was looking up at the curving hull of Cavorite, so close that he couldn't see the top, but only what he had taken for a cobbled wall: the lander's lava-spattered ground-effect skirt.

Other pa.s.sengers were staring too. Cavorite!

The end of the Road was a ioop, and Cavorite was the middle of it.

Like Columbiad in Destiny Town, the lander stood among smaller structures, in a lava dish of its own melting. There was a fence around it.

Traffic was clogged here, but only because there was so much of it.

Nothing blocked the Road. Building must have been restricted from the beginning.

He had wondered whether it would be safe to ask directions. No need. Faded holograms marked three buildings of ancient poured stone, all with big gla.s.s windows. Medical, Medical, Medical.

The bus stopped. With his case on his back and a cane in his hand, Jeremy climbed down to the Road.

Closer, he could read more.

Medical: Reception and Records Medical: Intensive Care and Surgery Medical.' Outpatient and Recovery He stagger-stepped into the leftmost building.

A narrow-faced woman his own age looked up. What she wore was likely a uniform, white with scarlet markings: Lisa Schiavo Reception Duty Doctor He was the last thing she wanted to see. "Patient?"

He said, "I'm here to see Karen Winslow."

She repeated, "Patient?"

"Yes. Emergency, burn patient, four days ago."

"Family only." Her brows furrowed: puzzled at the Spiral Town accent that he'd thought long lost.

"I'm Jeremy Winslow," he said more carefully. "Karen's husband."

She said, "Okay. Okay. We're all speckles-shy here today, and the reason is, the computer went out about quitting time yesterday." Her hands shuffled a stack of printouts, helplessly. "We spent the whole morning trying to keep track with notes on paper. Now we're using the library computer, and that's where you'll find out where your wife is. Through that door and up three floors. There's a lift. Wait. What's wrong with your leg?"

"I hurt my knee surfing."

"Really. Wonderful. Brendan!"

Nothing happened immediately. Schiavo said, "Sit down. How long ago?"

"Almost three weeks." He sat down.

"Is it healing all right?"

"I suppose."

"Come back after you see your wife. I'll have Brendan scan you.

Here," She handed him a card. "Your wife's name, address, age, and whatever you remember about her medical history."

Jeremy began writing.

A barrel-shaped man jogged in. 'ja, mein Fuhrer!" His uniform was very like Schiavo's, with a label that read: Brendan Shaw Surgery Duty Doctor "Brendan, want some exercise?"

"Run up to the library?"

"Yeah, find out where they're keeping a burn patient and get her status. Karen Winslow. You could take the lift. Who'd know?" She took Jeremy's card, glanced at it, handed it to Brendan.

"I go, effendi!" Brendan jogged out, knees high, arms pumping. He slowed to a walk while in Jeremy's sight, but not Schiavo's.

Schiavo handed him another card. "Fill one out for yourself too."

Jeremy filled out what he remembered from his credit rating. Put it in his pocket. Closed his eyes....

Brendan's voice jolted him awake. "Winslow? We've got her in Intensive. Out the door, turn left, it's the next building over, fourth floor, Room Four-ten. Her doctor's Nogales, but she's home today. Come back after you see your wife and we'll scan your knee."

Karen smiled. "Jeremy. Can't move. I can't disturb the skin."

"All right." He went around to her good side and she gripped his hand. The sheet didn't cover much of her. They had her hands tied...

loosely, and padded, but she couldn't reach herself. The skin over half her body was s.h.i.+ny and patchy. It made him queasy to look, but he could well understand why nothing should touch her skin.

"So good to see you, Jeremy. What kept you?"

"They couldn't find my credit record at first."

Her eyes doubted him. He'd always wondered how much she'd guessed.

He told her how matters stood at Wave Rider. No customers, and a good thing too. Himself, walking around brain-dead with worry. The Otterfolk were getting bored; what they brought in was skimpy. Nine days until the caravaners arrived. She listened. . . dozed. .

There was a hand on his shoulder.

He'd gone to sleep with his cheek on Karen's good arm. "Lloyd?"

"Don't wake her."

Karen's hand was slack now, and he disengaged. Their youngest daughter's mate said, "I'll take you back to Gran Harlow's place. It'll hold four for one night."

"Can't go yet. The doctor wants to look at my knee."

"About time."

Medical was the strangest, scariest place Jeremy Winslow had ever been.

He hoped it didn't show. You're supposed to have seen this before.

He told Brendan Shaw, "The waves were rQlling in from way out there. Little sh.e.l.led heads all around me. I hadn't been out for weeks because the caravan was in. They like it better when you take chances, you know? I caught this beautiful curl and rode it till my knees turned to water, and then let it break and carry me till the board hit sand and I lit running. I twisted my knee running in sand. Just too tired."