Part 3 (1/2)

”Tinker has vouched for you.”

Lain threw Tinker a concerned look. ”I see. Yes, you have my word.”

”Word about what?” Tinker asked.

”The treaty allows for simple first aid.” Lain scanned the equipment connected to Windwolf. ”It theorized that since we can interbreed, humans and elves must be ninety-eight percent to ninety-nine percent genetically identical. But then, we're ninety percent identical to earthworms, so it's not that amazing, except that this is an alien world.”

”We're that close to earthworms?”

”Yes. Frightening isn't it?”

”How close are Earth earthworms and Elfhome earthworms?”

”Do you know how many species of earthworms are on Earth?” Lain eyed the power sink. ”Of course primates are also ninety-eight percent identical to us, and we can't interbreed.”

”Has anyone tried?”

”Knowing humans,” Windwolf murmured. ”Yes.”

Lain laughed, looking amused and yet insulted. ”As a scientifically controlled experiment or a s.e.xual perversion?”

”Both.” Windwolf earned a dark look from Lain.

”What does that have to do with anything now?” Tinker asked to distract the two.

”The point is that the elves want to keep it all theory,” Lain said. ”It's against the treaty to cull any genetic samples from an accident victim. It's why Mercy won't treat elves.” She shook her head. ”This is going to be tricky. I'll need him in my operating room to properly treat him.”

Tinker considered. ”I have longer leads. We could leave the sink in the trailer and run the magic into your OR with the longer leads. There might be a drop in power, though.”

Oilcan peered through the AC slot from the truck cab. ”If I take down a section of the fence, we can back up almost to the OR's window.”

”Oh, we can't,” Tinker said. ”We'll drive over the flowers and ruin them.”

”A man's life is more important than flowers.” Lain brushed the objection aside. ”Will the spell let you disconnect and reconnect?”

”I am not a man,” Windwolf whispered.

”Elf. Man. Close enough for horseshoes,” Tinker said, shaking her head in answer to Lain's question. ”I can print a second spell and activate it in the OR. We'll have to scrub his chest to get all traces of the old spell off.”

”Horseshoes?” Windwolf asked.

”It's a game,” Tinker told him. ”Oilcan and I play it at the sc.r.a.p yard. When you're better, I'll teach it to you.”

”Okay.” Lain limped to the door. ”Let's make this happen.”

Tinker printed off another copy of the spell and found longer leads. Oilcan found help at the Observatory in the form of astronomers. They took down much of the picket fence and eased the truck to the porch. Luckily Lain had a hospital gurney in her lab, and they wheeled it over a ramp into the trailer. After Oilcan and two of the postdocs slid Windwolf onto the gurney, they wheeled it as far as the present leads allowed, which took them inside the foyer of Lain's grand Victorian home.

There they let him sit, while Tink threaded the longer leads out the lab window. Then came the mad scramble of disconnecting leads, pus.h.i.+ng Windwolf to the lab, moving the truck, cleaning Windwolf's chest, applying the spell, and reconnecting the leads. Windwolf lay still as death on the gurney even after Tink activated the spell.

”Is he dead?” Tinker had been entertaining herself with thoughts of Windwolf's aristocratic reaction to flinging large metal horseshoes at a metal peg. Would he even come see how the game would be played, she had wondered, or would he vanish out of her life like he had done last time? The thought of him dead and unable to do either sickened her. Oh please, no. Oh please, no.

And then after that, an even more horrible thought. Oh, no, the life debt! Oh, no, the life debt! She patted her s.h.i.+rt pocket, and the cancel spell crinkled rea.s.suringly. There was even magic left in the sink to power the spell. She patted her s.h.i.+rt pocket, and the cancel spell crinkled rea.s.suringly. There was even magic left in the sink to power the spell.

Lain pulled on latex gloves and then pressed a hand to his neck. ”No. He's hanging in there. Barely.”

Tinker sniffed as blinked-away tears made her nose start to run.

Lain looked at her strangely.

”If he dies,” Tinker offered as an excuse for the sniffling, ”I'm screwed.”

Lain frowned at her, then swung the brilliant light over to s.h.i.+ne on the elf's face. ”Wolf Who Rules Wind.” She used his full true name in Elvish, seemingly stunned to immobility.

”You know him? Lain?”

Lain looked at her. ”When are you going to start taking notice of things beyond that sc.r.a.p yard of yours? There are two very large worlds out there, and you are in an uncommon position of being part of both of them. Speaking of which, Oilcan, can you see if the phones are working? I have several hours of data to upload while we're on Earth. These Foo dogs-they have fangs, like a cat?”

”Yes.”

”These puncture wounds must have been made by the fangs. There is crus.h.i.+ng damage from the teeth between them. I'm going to treat all this with peroxide, or they'll go septic.”

”They weren't genetic constructs-more like a solid hologram. When I hit them with the electromagnet, they unraveled back down to the original creature. Their breath smelled like-” Tinker searched her memory now that she didn't have one of the beasts breathing down her neck ”-like incense.”

”Foo dogs are actually Foo lions-protectors of sacred buildings,” Lain said. ”Temples and suchlike. They're supposed to scare demons-oni.”

”I thought you said oni were elves, related to the tengu.”

”Elves, demons, spirits. Two cultures rarely have one-to-one translations. So, you're saying that these bites were made by holograms? You're guessing there's no bacteria involved because they weren't eating, breathing, real creatures?”

”Solid illusions, possibly. Oh, who the h.e.l.l knows?”

”I'd rather be safe than sorry. We have another”-Lain glanced at the lab clock, which read 6:10-”eighteen hours. The thing about animal bites is that they will go septic if you don't stay on top of them.”

It took hours. News of Windwolf's condition spread through the commune. Despite the frantic shuffle of leaving and incoming postdocs, many of the scientists stopped by to lend a hand. Hot food was carried from the kitchens. Biologists came to help with the first-aid efforts. When the phones came back online at eight in the morning, the biologists fielded phone calls from Earth-bound scientists looking for specimens and data forgotten during the callers' last trip to Elfhome. They even ran Lain's data transfer.

At ten, a van arrived to pick up botanical specimens that Lain had collected and quarantined over the last thirty days. Lain had to supervise, making sure that only the most harmless of Elfhome's biological flora were loaded, even though the most deadly, like the strangle vines and black willows, probably wouldn't flourish without magic. The drivers complained about the ten hours to travel the ten miles in from the Rim, unloaded the truck of food and supplies, stared at the improving Windwolf in open curiosity, and then hurried off, hoping aloud that the twelve hours of Shutdown remaining would be enough time to reach the Rim again. They prompted an exodus among the scientists who were returning to Earth.

Finally the house emptied, and Tinker sprawled on a white wicker chaise stolen from Lain's sunporch. Lain found her nearly asleep and tapped tapped her on the cheek with a printout. Tinker slit open her eyes, took the paper, and closed her eyes again. ”What's this?”

”Carnegie Mellon University reviewed your application. Apparently they've been able to confirm your father's alumni-slash-faculty history prior to their hasty move out of Oakland. They were impressed by your placement tests and they've accepted you. They're offering you a scholars.h.i.+p, and your living costs would be handled by the displaced citizen fund. They're trying to decide if you qualify for the in-state tuition scale. If we get your reply out today, you can start in the fall.”

”Lain!” Tinker kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see Lain's excitement. They were impressed by my placement tests? They were impressed by my placement tests? How? How? I know I didn't get any of the questions right. I know I didn't get any of the questions right. ”I applied just to make you happy. I didn't think they would accept me.” ”I applied just to make you happy. I didn't think they would accept me.” I thought I made sure they wouldn't accept me. I thought I made sure they wouldn't accept me. ”I don't want to go.” ”I don't want to go.”

Frosty silence. Tinker could imagine the disapproving look. Even with her eyes closed, it had Medusa-like powers.

”Tinker,” Lain said, apparently realizing the magic of her gaze alone wasn't working, ”I didn't push this last year because you weren't legal yet, but now you can come and go without worry. You're wasting your life in that sc.r.a.p yard. You are the most brilliant person I've ever met, and you're twiddling with junked cars.”