Chapter Two
“Are you certain this will be all right?” Shona asked, watching through a one-way transparent wall into the Sands family playroom as Alex and Jill sized up Dwan’s three youngsters and were evaluated in their turn. Dougie was Alex’s size. Ginny and Nell were four-year-old fraternal twins: one red-haired and one dark. The room was full of expensive toys and electronic devices, but the five ignored them, instead creating a complicated make-believe involving a discarded plastic packing crate from the hold of the Sibyl and several lengths of flex cable. “I can hook up an auto-tutor program in Dr. Setve’s house. My children have all used them before.”
Dwan patted her arm. “I’m sure. In fact, it will be nice to give the children contact with people from somewhere else. There aren’t any other five-year-olds, I’m afraid Dougie might grow up spoiled if he doesn’t have anybody to learn to share with. That’s so important. I meant what I said last night.”
Shona smiled and sipped her tea. She was pleased by the casual contact of pats on the arms, handshakes, and so on. She’d been afraid that the colonists’ obsession with natural medicine might mean they stood off from personal contact.
“It’s so generous of you to let me help myself to plant cuttings,” Shona said. “It would cost me a fortune for even a small quantity of any of these. I usually end up seasoning with extracts because it costs me credits per gram for cooking herbs.”
Dwan waved a hand. “Take all you want. Indulge yourself. This is one of the joys of Jardindor. I love to cook with herbs, and I like to take baths with handfuls of mint and rosemary.”
“Thank you so much,” Shona said happily. “Fresh is so much better for you. It’s rare that I have access even to a small amount. I feel … shamelessly self-indulgent even thinking about bathing with handfuls of rosemary. Mmm,” she hummed, picturing fragrant clouds of steam rising around her body. “And the chance to cook anything I like. I don’t know where to start.”
Dwan stretched out her legs. “I’m like you: I was born in a bubble colony. I love having land to wander around on. It … it feeds my soul. My husband likes it because it’s quiet.”
Shona glanced around. “Will I see him?”
“Captain Code? Not until afternoon, at the earliest. He’ll be in front of his console until I absolutely drive him away from it. You were lucky to meet him yesterday. Come on, let’s go sit on the terrace.” She picked up the tea tray and led the way. Shona struggled to catch up with Dwan’s long stride.
Saffie and Dwan’s lithe greyhound/shepherd mix, Lark, bolted out of the door ahead of their mistresses. Shona was just in time to see both dogs disappear into the undergrowth. She heard the yelping and crashing associated with two large animals trampling possibly valuable plants. Alarmed, she started to call after them.
“Don’t worry,” Dwan said. “Lark knows her way home. They’ll want to smell every centimeter, but they’ll come home when they’re hungry.”
“Are there any dangerous life-forms here?” Shona had asked the question the night before but had been put off by the reaction from her hostess and the other guests. Dwan seemed more open. Shona hoped she would get an answer, and she was rewarded for her perseverance.
“You mean indigenous species? Nothing larger than microbes. This was such an in-between place when they started terraforming. Almost as though it couldn’t make up its mind whether to have an atmosphere or not, so very little local fauna, let alone flora, evolved. It might have happened in a few billion more years, but nothing was imminent in the next million or so. It made the decision for the board much easier than it’s been on a lot of other planets.”
“I can imagine.” Shona said. Dwan dumped the cold tea into the bushes and poured fresh cups. “The results are fantastic.”
“We like it,” Dwan said complacently. “Where’s the ottle today?”
“Exploring the trees on Setve’s property. His species evolved in trees. When they formed a civilization they started living in pouches, but they’ve always been arboreal. I’ve promised him I’ll take him down to that big round lake tomorrow.”
“Better ask Laren,” Dwan warned her. “It’s on their property.”
“The whole lake?” Shona asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes. But the ocean is community property, just like the spaceport.”
The terraformed part of Jardindor had turned out to be smaller than Shona would ever have guessed, looking out at the forests and fields from Dwan’s patio. Their expanse lay in clever use of perspective, intended to fool the eye. Most of the conifers ran from normal trees at the rear of the property to smaller species further out. She suspected the most distant ones were dwarf trees. With six months in her tenure she had plenty of time to find out.
“What’s that?” Shona asked, pointing at a wing of Dwan’s house that extended into a garden lined with thick evergreens.
“Just a part of the house,” Dwan said hastily. “Nothing important.”
“Setve has a conservatory that looks a lot like that,” Shona said, eyeing it. “There’s a swimming pool in it. Do you have a pool?”
“Everyone has a pool,” Dwan said, clearly wanting to change the subject. Shona wondered if she knew about the odor that Saffie had detected in Setve’s house, the one Chirwl called violent, and decided that it was none of her business.
“What a treat to talk to someone in person,” she said. “The time lag between ships is enough to make me lose the thread of a conversation a dozen times! By the way, perhaps you can help me solve a mystery. Yesterday morning someone left us a glorious bouquet of red lilies, but no note. And today there was a cluster of the most delicious-smelling muguet in the examination room. Gorgeous, but they didn’t come from Setve’s garden. I’m sure of that.”
Dwan handed her a cup of tea. “Everyone likes to be generous.”
“It’s funny,” Shona said, looking out at the landscape as she took a sip, “Saffie went insane when she smelled the vase. It had a scent that intrigued her. I couldn’t smell a thing, of course. Her nose is phenomenal. But I think it must have been the scent of the person who left the flowers, not a chemical compound. Harry wasn’t interested except to eat the leaves. And throw them up. Of course.” Shona sighed. “It’s his hobby. Do you have any other pets beside Lark?”
“Oh, yes,” Dwan said, rising suddenly. She glanced at her sleeve chronometer. “Is that the time? The kids will be chewing the walls. Join us for lunch?”
Shona spent the rest of the day with her new friend. She felt a trifle guilty skipping office hours, but decided she would open for business after dinner. Using Dwan’s console to call Hanya’s house, she checked in with Lani. The teenager didn’t want to come home. She was having so much fun with Zolly that they decided to make a night of it. Hanya assured her it was all right. Feeling very content, Shona decided she was going to enjoy the posting.
* * *
The isolated quality of Jardindor might have been why the families there chose it in the first place, but Shona began to notice a desperation among her patients to spend time simply talking. Few of the thirty families interacted, outside of the Friday parties—to those everyone came, almost as though there was mandatory attendance being taken. Shona began to understand the need for great rooms. A hundred people, all sitting at maximum distance from one another, made a large party chamber a virtual necessity. She began to see that while Hethyr was the governor of the colony, Finoa seemed to be the real leader. The parties did not seem to begin until she and her husband arrived. Some of the younger women and a few of the men appeared to be openly afraid or in awe of her, though she was always polite, even warm, to Shona. She and Robret were genetic researchers, though she never discussed her work, but that did not explain Finoa’s clear preeminence. Her fellows were all captains of industry, owners of important financial concerns, inventors, and artists, but they all tried to curry favor with her, deferring to her wishes in everything.
She observed, too, that the Jardindorians might as well have been living on spaceships. The fabulous gardens were empty, more often than not. Shona discovered that she was a rarity, taking advantage of the blissful scents and sunshine. Except for Dwan, she seldom saw anyone else hiking or riding out in the voice-operated carts. They rarely gardened for themselves, and no living support workers lived on the planet. There were gardening robots that took care of the outside, as the housekeeping robots minded the inside. Jardindorian pets, at least one cat or dog per household, seemed to enjoy their beautiful land more than the humans did.
Her own animals adapted to Jardindor as if they had always been there. Saffie dashed out every morning to sniff favorite trees and rocks before doing her business. Harry sauntered in and out at a more leisurely, catlike pace, chewing plants and leaves only for the pleasure of throwing them up later.
As for her patients’ health regimens, Shona approved of most of what they were doing. There was no harm in herbalism and aromatherapy, so long as they didn’t use toxic plants, or ingest too much of what they didn’t need. On the whole they had little requirement for her services. They seemed to value the listening ear more than the medical care, which always was for very trivial problems. Kely chafed frantically one day while she opened up the office for nothing more than a simple hematoma on his finger that he got slamming it in a door. Underneath it all Shona believed their impatience could be put down to rank, and hoped that if fabulous wealth ever befell her she would try not to become that spoiled.
Still there was the mystery of the flowers. They kept coming, a fresh vase of them every day. The whole-house computer’s security system was supposed to set off an alarm if anyone entered, but the first morning Shona held open office hours there was a huge vase of yellow chrysanthemums on the dining table. She hinted to her visitors that she would like to thank the donor, but no one admitted to the gift. Puzzled and a little taken aback, Shona set the computer to detect intruders, but the next morning there were bouquets of alstromeria and Dutch irises in the examination room and on the table she liked to sit beside in the garden. The flowers were taken away every night and replaced every morning. Shona never managed to see who or what changed the flowers, and Saffie went crazy every morning.
As for visiting the houses, Shona had carte blanche. She and her family could have eaten every meal every day at one neighbor’s or another. Behind their own walls her hosts were open and friendly, their archness and coldness set aside. She wallowed splendidly in soap operas with Laren and Finoa, talked fine fabrics with Baraba, and had cook-offs with Dwan. None of them ever invited another person or couple at the same time. It was as though they were reluctant to share her company.
Chirwl had invitations galore to visit homes. All the families asked him almost daily to come by. Keeping in mind her sense of uneasiness from the first Friday party, Shona always accompanied him on these outings. She cited Alien Relations rules, and most of his hosts accepted Shona’s presence without question, but Finoa seemed impatient to have the ottle to herself. The most privacy she’d been able to obtain was when Shona allowed Finoa to take him on a grand tour of their home in the third week of her tenure. Before they had left Setve’s house Shona had instructed Chirwl to stay in his pouch and not to get out of it for any reason when she was out of sight. Finoa’s obsession with getting Chirwl alone made her very uncomfortable.
“A pleasant occupation afternoon,” Chirwl chittered, as they rode back to the surgery, as Shona had come to call their adopted home, in the handsome dark-green cart.
“So, what’s the rest of the house like?” Shona asked.
“Rooms in profuse mass, like divided cells.” When Shona looked alarmed, Chirwl tittered. “Mitosis!”
“Oh, you mean there’s a lot of them,” Shona translated, with a laugh. “I thought you meant they were secure rooms for keeping prisoners.”
“There are prisoners,” Chirwl said seriously. “Many small animals, as in your lab, but unhappy. And strange smells I breathe, like incense musk. I think my friend Saffie would growl at them.”
“If Finoa and Robret are doing genetic research, she will have animals,” Shona said. “It’s an ugly truth. What did she talk about?”
“Many subjects. I am not bored with her.”
“Well, I’m not bored with her, either. She wants you to come back again soon. I think we may wait until next week,” Shona said, shifting the pouch on her lap. “Your social schedule is cutting into my work schedule.”
“I could go by myself,” Chirwl offered. “The house would drive the cart for me. But I do not think I want to. The scents raise for me discomfort.”
“Now, that is very well put,” Shona said.