Seignur Veeoni’s Private Workroom
“Four!” Seignur Veeoni frowned. “I had not expected so many.”
She walked around the jitney, and stood staring at the bot webbed in on the passenger’s bench.
“And this is—?”
“A bonus,” Jen Sin said, his head throbbing. “It attacked Captain Waitley and myself in the breach hall.”
Seignur Veeoni transferred her frown to him.
“It does not appear formidable.”
“It had a rifle,” Hazenthull said, leaning into the cab and pulling the thing out. She offered it to the researcher across two wide palms. “Mentor Jones removed the power pack.”
“Prudent,” Seignur Veeoni said, making no move to take the weapon. “Why bring them to me?”
“I had hoped your study of station schematics may have revealed the system which motivated the bot,” Jen Sin said. “Tocohl could not see it, save through the hall cameras.”
“That is…interesting,” Seignur Veeoni said. “Very well, I will examine it. In the breach hall, you say?”
“Quite near the seal, yes.”
She narrowed her eyes, as if she were in fact reading the schematic, then shook her head sharply.
“I will examine it, as I said. M Traven.”
Her bodyguard stepped forward.
“Researcher?”
“Take the jitney into the workroom. I will want the boxes in the secure area. Put the bot in a safe-box.” She turned to frown one more time at the rifle Hazenthull still held.
“That—put it on my desk.”
“Yes,” said Traven, receiving the rifle, and carrying it across the room. Seignur Veeoni started after her.
“I have a request to make in commission of my duty to Line yos’Phelium,” Hazenthull said surprisingly.
Seignur Veeoni turned back, eyebrows up.
“Speak.”
“Light Keeper yos’Phelium took damage during the incident in the breach hall. He requires the use of an autodoc.”
Seignur Veeoni turned to look at him.
“I see,” she said.
“There are ships incoming. The light keeper has expressed his intention to meet their crews at docking,” Hazenthull continued, stolidly.
“And he would of course prefer to do so with a clean face,” Seignur Veeoni said. “I understand. This way, please, Light Keeper.”
The autodoc loomed large in the small space. In fact, it was large—larger, its control panel more complex, than the usual house or shipboard ’docs. It bore a distressing resemblance to—
Raw panic clawed at his throat. He stopped walking, taking deep breaths that only seemed to feed the horror.
A hand fell, lightly, on his shoulder.
“Light Keeper?” Hazenthull said softly. “Are you in pain?”
“No.” He could scarcely hear his own voice over the pounding of his heart. “I believe that I will not require the ’doc,” he said. “Thank you for your care.”
He turned—tried to turn, but Hazenthull prevented it.
“Light Keeper yos’Phelium,” Seignur Veeoni said sharply. “You are a sensible and practical man. Pray come forward and examine this device. The model may be unfamiliar to you—it was built for laboratory use—but you will see that it is nothing more nor less than an autodoc.”
The hand on his shoulder urged him, and perforce he went forward, until he was standing beside the researcher at the machine’s control board. She touched a corner and the board lit, showing all the expected readouts and menus.
“My work demands that I have access to a larger onboard database than standard models provide,” Seignur Veeoni said. “Storage room, and increased capacity for quick healing are the limits of the modifications on this unit.”
He’d managed to get his breathing under control; the panic lessened somewhat. Still, he had no wish—not the smallest desire—to lie down, to have the shell close over him…
“The station master reflects the station,” Seignur Veeoni said, surprisingly. “Or so my brother tells me. Is this station a place of refinement and peace, or is it a free-for-all?”
It was the shock of hearing such a question from Seignur Veeoni of all unlikely persons. He laughed—breathless and broken, but honest for all of it.
“We are naturally a place of peace and refinement,” he said. “Korval accepts no less.”
“Very well. Watch me closely as I set this. Examination, yes? Unless something more serious than bruises are discovered, we advance to quick-heal, with an infusion of vitamins and electrolytes. Is there anything in this plan to which you object?”
It was the very course of reason. Jen Sin owned himself impressed.
“No. It is well done. I thank you.”
“Thank me by lying down.”
He drew a breath, removed his jacket, and handed it to Hazenthull. She threw it over her shoulder and helped him up onto the pallet, various of his muscles protesting.
“I will keep watch,” she told him. “I will be here when you emerge.”
Amazingly—absurdly—her promise eased him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“The hood descends,” Seignur Veeoni said.
He closed his eyes so he would not have to watch—and snapped into sleep.