Ship Who Searched by Anne McCaffrey, Mercedes Lackey Read Free Book Online Page A

any less, and we think about you all the time, and we miss you like anything.” Pota blew a kiss toward the camera. “I know you can take care of yourself; in fact, we’re counting on that. You’re making a big difference to us. I want you to know that. Love you, baby.”
    Tia finished her juice as the holo flickered out, and a certain temptation raised its head. This could be a really unique opportunity to play hooky, just a little bit. Mum and Dad were not going to be checking the tutor to see how her lessons were going—and the Institute Psychs wouldn’t care; they thought she was too advanced for her age anyway. She could even raid the library for the holos she wasn’t precisely supposed to watch. . . .
    “Oh, Finagle,” she said, regretfully, after a moment. It might be fun—but it would be guilty fun. And besides, sooner or later Mum and Dad would find out what she’d done, and ping! there would go the Family Day and probably a lot of other privileges. She weighed the immediate pleasure of being lazy and watching forbidden holos against the future pleasure of being able to pilot the sled up the mountains, and the latter outranked the former. Piloting the sled was the closest she would get to piloting a ship, and she wouldn’t be able to do that for years and years and years yet.
    And if she fell on her nose now , right when Mum and Dad trusted her most—they’d probably restrict her to the dome for ever and ever.
    “Not worth it,” she sighed, jumping down from her stool. She frowned as she noticed that the pins-and-needles feeling in her toes still hadn’t gone away. It had been there when she woke up this morning. It had been there yesterday too, and the day before, but by breakfast it had worn off.
    Well, it didn’t bother her that much, and it wouldn’t take her mind off her Latin lesson. Too bad, too.
    “Boring language,” she muttered. “ Ick, ack, ock! ”
    Well, the sooner she got it over with, the better off she’d be, and she could go back to nice logical quadratics.

    The pins-and-needles feeling hadn’t worn off by afternoon, and although she felt all right, she decided that since Mum and Dad were trusting her to do everything right, she probably ought to talk to the AI about it
    “Socrates, engage Medic Mode, please,” she said, sitting down reluctantly in the tiny medic station. She really didn’t like being in the medic-station; it smelled of disinfectant and felt like being in a too-small pressure suit. It was just about the size of a tiny lav, but something about it made it feel smaller. Maybe because it was dark inside. And of course, since it had been made for adults, the proportions were all wrong for her. In order to reach hand-plates she had to scoot to the edge of the seat, and in order to reach foot-plates she had to get right off the seat entirely. The screen in front of her lit up with the smiling holo of someone that was supposed to be a doctor. Privately, she doubted that the original had ever been any closer to medicine than wearing the jumpsuit. He just looked too—polished. Too trustworthy, too handsome, too competent. Any time there was anything official she had to interface with that seemed to scream trust me at her, she immediately distrusted it and went very wary. Probably the original for this holo had been an actor. Maybe he made adults feel calm, but he made her think about the Psychs and their too-hearty greetings, their nosy questions.
    “Well, Tia,” said the AI’s voice—changed to that of the “doctor.” “What brings you here?”
    “My toes feel like they’re asleep,” she said dutifully. “They kind of tingle.”
    “Is that all?” the “doctor” asked, after a moment for the AI to access his library of symptoms. “Are they colder than normal? Put your hand on the hand-plate, and your foot on the foot-plate, Tia.”
    She obeyed, feeling very like a contortionist.
    “Well, the circulation seems to be fine,” the “doctor” said,