“It’s not silly.”
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss my quilt. I’m guessing my offer sounded more inviting with time.”
“Yes.”
“Any trouble on the way over?” she asked.
“None at all.”
A tired sadness filled her olive-colored eyes. “I’m not surprised. People have been afraid to get to know others who are outside their families. The halls are filled with strangers.”
Sounded liked the scrubs. “Why?”
“When noticed by the Travas, the friendship is immediately a cause for suspicion. The Travas view any group of people as potential rebels. Also, people are afraid of being reported. If you don’t have a friendship with another, then when they get mad at you, they can’t call you a scrub-lover and have you arrested.”
I stared at her. If I exchanged Trava for Pop Cop, she could be talking about the lower levels.
She shook her head. “You don’t want to hear about this. Wait here, let me check to make sure my clothes aren’t all over the floor.” The doctor disappeared through another door.
This place reminded me of a maze. I glanced around the rest of the room. Her computer occupied the middle of her neat desk, and two big armchairs faced it. A basket of toys sat on the floor. I knelt next to it and rooted through the meager contents. When disappointment stabbed, I realized I had been searching for Dada Sheepy.
“For my younger patients,” she said behind me. “The shower is clean, but I want a peek at your incision before your stitches get wet.”
She led me to her suite. Bigger than Riley’s it had two bedrooms, a sitting room, small kitchen and a washroom. I peeled the jumpsuit down and showed her the cut. In the brutal glare of the daylights, the bruises appeared purple and black thread held together a swollen and angry red line. I swayed and rested against the wall.
“Healing nicely despite your adventures.”
I gave her a dubious look.
“Trust the doctor.” She sniffed and eyed my jumpsuit. “Shower. I’ll bring you a bowl of hot soup and a change of clothes.”
I removed all the devices and decoder and hid them under a towel. The warm water sluiced wonderfully along my body despite the sting of the soap. When I finished, a steaming cupand a clean jumpsuit waited for me as promised. I could get use to this attention.
Perhaps I could let Trella die in the air shafts so Ella could remain here.
“Better?” Doctor Lamont asked.
“Much.”
“Your room’s on the right. Get some sleep.”
My room, I repeated in my mind. My room. With a narrow bed and single table with a lamp, it wasn’t elaborate or even special. But it was a rich luxury compared to sleeping in the barracks. The mattress’ springs creaked when I sat on the bed. Fun. I bounced, enjoying the sensation. The bunks in the lower levels were cushioned with thin mats. Not that it mattered to me, I could sleep in an air shaft. But this was the first time I found a real difference between the uppers and lowers.
If my parents hadn’t abandoned me, would I be living in a similar room? Would I be happy? I imagined my life before the whole mess with Domotor. Would I trade that life for this? Yes. But trade my life now? No way.
As I stretched out on the bed, I worried I would be spoiled and unable to sleep in the vents after spending time here. For once, I decided to enjoy the moment.
Riley’s insistent voice roused me from a dreamless slumber.
“…need to speak with her.”
I stepped from the room. The short rest had revived me. I followed the voices to the doctor’s office. Riley sat on the edge of one of the armchairs, leaning forward as if ready to launch himself across the desk. He sprang to his feet as soon as he spotted me in the doorway.
“Youarebetter. When I saw your note…” Riley glanced at the doctor.
“He thought your condition had worsened and you sought medical help.” A glint shone in her eyes. “He didn’t believe me.”
“Do you know how long it took her to trustme?” he asked the doctor. “I couldn’t imagine Ella risking so much for a shower.”
