Chapter 13: Patting Ronnie, Part 1

Merkury Log 160 Days

We are getting closer to our goal! I can't supply a precise time for our arrival, but I figure within 30 days. I am tremendously excited; I find myself forgetting things, some times important ones, like misplacing the air uptake filter! I find myself standing at the realview staring out into the wilderness of creatures and lights near and far. Being closer to Olive's home makes me feel that I belong herehhereere, that I'm not just a visitor, that I could just step out into the warm black and be welcomed somehow.

The condition of Ronnie continues to perplex and alarm us. He still drinks his gofee, several cups, and he allows us to set a bowl of gob2 in front of him, and he'll pick at it. Vuud has a collection of powerful medicines in his robes but he believes that most would do more harm than good. Ronnie agreed to let him administer a dose of a strong stimulant but it had no effect. He mostly lies on a piece of orange bedding in the galley. He looks like a sick canine and his hair has gotten clumped and matted. I think it is a good sign that he wants to be by us and not alone. About four days ago I asked him to change his form, just hoping to cheer him and he looked at me droopily but quickly became a hot dog with mustard, about 24 inches long. I laughed and Vuud actually smiled.

Of greatest concern, however, is the transparent asphixfilm that is creeping up his neck. It is like an ultra thin plastic sheath. I thought maybe I could peel it off, but when I finally got the dull edge of a cooksnife to separate the film from his neck, a very small amount, he howled piteously and snapped at me, which he would never do. I noticed that where I had tried to lift the film off, blood had seeped out through torn skin. The film has apparently become part of him now. I quit that.

Today our shipmate Ronnie looked so sad and weak. I lifted him up onto my lap; he was so light. I put his cup of gofee to his rubbery lips and somehow I felt that I was doing something right. I thought I'd see if I could get him something solid to eat and started to set him down on his seat but immediately felt that that was the wrong thing to do. SoI sat with Ronnie on my lap-I got a more contented vibration from him when I placed my hand on him. Since I couldn't do anything else, I turned on a lullaby and scratched and patted our friend. Vuud came from his maintenance rounds. He looked at the two of us and sat down. "That's very soothing music; I've never heard it." I didn't say anything and continued to pat Ronnie, he adjusted his body a little.

After a while I said to Vuud, "I'm getting really hungry could you get me some yobean; I don't want to disturb---"

Vuud brought a fork too, and I leaned over to open the tub, I drooled a little. A couple of drops fell on Ronnie's lethal film. I started to wipe them off but they seemed to disappear through the film. Two tiny holes appeared. I showed them to Vuud. He said, "What happens when you lick the film?" I tried this, it actually seemed to thin the film a little. I licked some more hoping for great things and could tell soon I would be through to hair, but it tasted horrible and made me feel nauseated. I wondered what else would have this melting effect. I felt certain that tears would do the job, but I was unable to make myself cry. I slid the flenser out of my right leg skinslip and made a cut on my finger; where the drop of blood pooled on the evil dull skin of Ronnie's affliction, a distinct hole formed again. "Hm-m, let me try," Vuud sliced the back of his long hand with a sharp fingernail and drops of brownish glistening blood dripped on Ronnie's coated neck.

"You don't call that stuff blood do you, you dried stick!"

"I must point out that the only true blood is black," answered Vuud with a sardonic wrinkle of his bony forehead.

We watched as his blood worked. I must admit to small shiver of envy as I noticed how his blood erased an even wider area of the chokefilm than mine.

Over the next couple of days we wept, licked (both of us got violently sick), dripped and wiped blood on Ronnie while holding him to soothing music. We tried mixing our saliva, tears, blood in a suspension with water, but that wasn't nearly as effective as directly from the source. It was draining.

And he began to get better. He got a bit heavier, his exposed fur a little glossier, his eyes not quite so dull. But he was still listless, and despite our best efforts, the film would continue to close the repairs we had made though its progress toward Ronnie's mouth had slowed. We wondered if some soothing scent, some comforting smell might help---

In the early morning, about two days after starting our treatments for Ronnie, Vuud was moving around, checking our progress and examining charts to see if they showed any hazards; "rocks and shoals" in ancient English. Satisfied, he turned to the wall and opened the realview. Any person, when that toe to ceiling vista is opened in front of them visibly rocks backward, to keep from falling into infinity. One can stand there astonished and mesmerized for long periods. After a few minutes, Vuud said, "Mica, come look at this."

"I can't, I'm holding Mr. Infirmity."

"I beg your pardon," said Ronnie sleepily, "I am not what you said."

"Couldn't you carry him over here with you?"

The two of us joined Vuud at the screen. "What," he said, "is that?"

There was a round shape out there, probably at least 400 feet in diameter. It appeared green and looked more than anything like a vegetable, like an unripe squash, with darker lines running from top to bottom. It was still quite distant but getting larger by the minute and apparently in line with our course.

"It looks healthy," I observed.

"Indeed, and like it could split, almost like it's bulging."

We kept on our course and were soon close to the object. It must have been approaching. Its gray-green skin almost filled our view screen. It appeared somehow softer than a squash, more like a green tomato. As we watched dumbfounded, it seemed to suddenly produce a silver cloud; a kind of shimmer surrounded it and thousands of shiny leaves? scales? silver bats? confetti? were lifting off the object. They glinted and then disappeared the way a school of fish will seem to do as they turn into and out of the light. They were definitely heading towards us.

Although they had surrounded us, I got no real feeling of danger. I heard a kind of whisper, and there they were, shimmering around us in the chartroom and galley. They were there but then sometimes seemed not. Each looked like transparent tissue about six inches by four inches-a rectangle. Seen very close they had tiny filaments of green or pink running lengthwise and tiny blue or black dots or grains. But sideways they were virtually invisible. If you stacked them up like pages of an old book, it would probably take twenty or so before you could make them out in profile at all.

"We're called Slight People," they murmured together and tittered softly. But there was nothing threatening about it-just funny. We slipped through the hide of your ship to see what you Are."

"How can I understand you, I don't really hear your voices?" I asked.

"Here's a word you probably will understand. It could be called "stemshare", You hear our thoughts and feelings through your "stems". I think you already know about that."

"It is customary to request permission to come aboard," intoned Vuud gently.

"We're rude, I suppose. But we mean you no harm."

"Do you all have names?" I ventured, "There must be several hundred of you here."

"And many thousands more back aboard our ship," a sense of raucous laughter. "Sometimes we do have names, like I'm Tasso," a polite shimmer from one of the rectangles, "And I'm Yasso, and where's Asso? That Asso, never around when you need him," the explorers cracked up again. Vuud, Ronnie, and I smiled uncertainly.