Chapter 17.3

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As they walked down the hall, Sabrina had a moment to realize that she was actually here, seconds from seeing what her brother had become. I'm not ready, she thought in a sudden rush of panic. Oh God. I can't break down now. I have to hold it together.

She walked between Tirqwin and Ford; each of them held one of her hands, as if she linked them together. There was a certain tension between father and son; they would have to clear the air sooner or later, have it out between them when she was not there to interfere. She accepted that. But she did not want to add to the recriminations she was sure they would fling at each other by making a scene when she saw Scotty. Tirqwin was exhausted, and Ford was doubtless worried about his ship's fate, and the last thing either of them needed was for her to break down.

I can do this. Pretend it's not real. Pretend it's not happening. It's just a dream. A really weird dream you're having after a bad cocktail party where you ate one too many unidentifiable appetizers.

"In here," Tirqwin said, pausing in front of a door. "Are you ready, Sabrina?"

No! God, no! "Yes, I'm ready."

Tirqwin let go of her hand to press his palm to the door lock. Ford squeezed the hand he held, and she glanced at him, to find him smiling gently at her with a rueful expression. She knew then that she wasn't fooling him. There was a strange comfort in the thought.

The door slid open to reveal a brightly lit room with perhaps half a dozen people in it. Some of them were working at the consoles that lined the walls; two of them stood over a long, narrow table. It took Sabrina a moment to realize that the table was really a stasis chamber. She looked questioningly at Tirqwin.

"They have put him back in stasis until we decide about his mind," he explained, "so he will not form memories he cannot make sense of. It is also much less stressful on him, and on the staff."

She nodded. She supposed a grown man with the knowledge of a newborn could be a real nuisance, and the scientists had better things to do than deal with that.

The scientists moved out of their way, and they stepped up to the stasis field. Sabrina looked at her brother's legs, which happened to be the part of him directly in front of her. They looked the same. Encouraged, she let her gaze travel up his body, which was still long and lean—too lean maybe, she thought, but once he was up and eating that would take care of itself. She tried to contain the instinctive panic that his unnatural stillness and closed eyes provoked; it was a little too much like viewing a body at a funeral home. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for him to breathe.

His face was a little different. The chin was a little less prominent; his nose a little thinner, his cheekbones maybe a shade higher. But it was still recognizably him—if she didn't look at the dark hair of his eyebrows and head. It was a very dark brown, not a true raven-black like Mara's, but it was still a far cry from the blond he'd been.

"His eyes are still blue?" she heard herself ask.

"Yes," Tirqwin reassured her.

"Next time they have him up, I'd like to know," she said. "I want to see his eyes." And to see him breathe.

"Of course," a voice said nearby. Sabrina was too focused on controlling herself to look up and see who'd answered. Every nerve in her screamed at her to fling herself across the stasis field and wail like a banshee, or pound her fists against it screaming until her throat was raw, or at least do something, anything but standing there looking down at her brother's changed body as if he were a mere sculpture she was evaluating.

She swallowed hard, twice, before she could turn to Tirqwin and say, "Thank you."

"Are you all right?" he asked gently.

Sabrina ruthlessly squelched an almost overwhelming impulse to burst into tears. "I'm better," she said. It was true; something in her had unknotted at the sight of Scotty's face. But the rest of her was screaming with pain and anxiety and loss. She looked at Tirqwin for the first time since entering the room. "Now go and get better yourself. One patient is all I can handle at a time."

"Are you sure—" Tirqwin began dubiously.

"I'm fine, Tirqwin," she said firmly. "Go."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but Khediva snatched him away before he got the chance. Sabrina let out a heavy sigh into the space where he had been, then pressed a hand to her head, which was aching with the effort to control herself.

"Come on," Ford said quietly. He took her arm carefully, as if afraid she might shatter, and led her to the door.

Sabrina cast one quick look over her shoulder at the stasis chamber and her brother's still form before the door slid shut behind them. Then she numbly went with Ford, paying no attention to where they were going. When his hand dropped from her arm, she stopped moving but made no effort to look around.

"This is the room I'm assigned; we'll have to see about getting you one," Ford said. "But I think you need to rest much more than I do."

When she didn't respond, he took her face in his hands and made her look at him. Then, without a word, he drew her into his arms and held her, gently pushing her head down to rest on his shoulder. She stood stiffly in his embrace, unable to relax, to let go, until he let out a sigh that ruffled her hair. Somehow, that was the final straw. She let out a sob so huge, so ragged that it tore at her throat, and collapsed into his embrace, weeping for Scotty, for herself, and for them all.

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