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said after a moment. Then he added archly, "What were you doing, kicking the
tutor?"
"No," she muttered. She really hated it when the AI program made it get
patronizing. "I stubbed it on a rock, outside."
"Does it hurt?" the 'doctor' continued, oblivious to her resentment.
"No," she said shortly. "It's all numb."
"Well, if it does, I've authorized your bathroom to give you some pills," the
'doctor' said with cloying cheer. "Just go right ahead and take
them if you need them. You know how to get them."
The screen shut down before she had a chance to say anything else. I
guess it isn't anything to worry about, she decided. The AI would have said
something otherwise. It'll probably go away.
But it didn't go away, although the bruises healed. Before long she had other
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bruises, and the numbness of her feet extended to her ankles. But she told
herself that the AI had said it would go away, eventually, and anyway, this
wasn't so bad, at least when she mashed herself it didn't hurt.
She continued to play at her own little excavation, the new one, which she had
decided was a grave-site. The primitives burned their dead though, and only
buried the ashes with their flint-replicas of the skygods' wonderful things,
hoping that the dearly departed would be reincarnated as sky-gods and return
in wealth and triumph.
It wasn't as much fun though, without Mum and Dad to talk to; and she was
getting kind of tired of the way she kept tripping and falling over the uneven
ground at the new 'site'. She hadn't damaged her new suit yet, but there were
sharp rocks that could rip holes even in the tough suit fabric, and if her
suit was torn, there would go the promised Family Day.
So, finally, she gave up on it and spent her afternoons inside.
A few nights later, Pota peeked in her room to see if she was still awake.
"I wanted you to know we were still flesh-and-blood and not holos, pumpkin,"
her mum said, sitting down on the side of her bed. "How are your excavations
coming?"
Tia shook her head. "I kept tripping on things, and I didn't want to tear my
suit," she explained. "I think that the Flint People must have put a curse on
their grave-site. I don't think I should dig there anymore."
Pota chuckled, hugged her, and said, "That could very well be, dear. It never
pays to underestimate the power of religion. When the others arrive we'll
research their religion and take the curse on; all right?"
"Okay," she replied. She wondered for a moment if she should mention her feet.
But Pota kissed her and whisked out the door before she could make up her
mind.
Nothing more happened for several days, and she got used to having numb feet.
If she was careful to watch where she stepped, and careful never to go
barefoot, there really wasn't anything to worry about. And the AI had said it
was something that happened to other children.
Besides, now Mum and Dad were really finding important things. In a quick
breakfast holo, a tired but excited Braddon said that what they were
uncovering now might mean a whole lot more than just a promotion. It might
mean the establishment of a fieldwide reputation.
Just what that meant, exactly, Tia wasn't certain, but there was no doubt that
it must be important or Braddon wouldn't have been so excited about it. So she
decided that whatever was wrong with her could wait It wouldn't be long now,
and once Mum and Dad weren't involved in this day-and-night frenzy
of activity, she could explain everything and they would see to it that the
medics gave her the right shot or whatever it was that she needed.
The next morning when she woke up, her fingers were tingling.
Tia sighed and took her place inside the medic booth. This was getting very
tiresome.
The AI ran her through the standard questions, which she answered as she had
before. "So now you have that same tingling in your hands as you did in your
feet, is that right?" the 'doctor' asked.
"That's right," she said shortly.
"The same tingling that went away?" the 'doctor' persisted.
"Yes," she replied. Should I say something about how it doesn't tingle
anymore, about how now it's numb? But the AI was continuing.
"Tia, I can't really find anything wrong with you," it said. "Your circulation
is fine, you don't have a fever, your appetite and weight are fine, you're
sleeping right. But you do seem to have gotten very accident prone lately."
The 'doctor' took on a look of concern covering impatience.
"Tia, I know that your parents are very busy right now, and they don't have
time to talk to you or play with you. Is that what's really wrong? Are you
angry with your parents for leaving you alone so much? Would you like to talk
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to a Counselor?"
"No!" she snapped. The idea! The stupid AI actually thought she was making
this up to get attention!
"Well, you simply don't have any other symptoms," the 'doctor' said, none too
gently. "This hasn't got to the point where I'd have to insist that you talk
to a Counselor, but really, without anything else to go on, I can't suggest
anything else except that this is a phase you'll grow out of."
"This hasn't got to the point where I'd have to insist that you talk to a
Counselor." Those were dangerous words. The AI's 'Counselor' mode was only
good for so much, and every single thing she said and did would be recorded
the moment that she started 'Counseling'. Then all the Psychs back at the
Institute would be sent the recordings via compressed-mode databurst and
they'd be all over them, looking for something wrong with her that needed
Psyching. And if they found anything, anything at all, Mum and Dad would get
orders from the Board of Mental Health that they couldn't ignore, and she'd be
shipped back to a school on the next courier run.
Oh no. You don't catch me that easy.
"You're right," she said carefully. "But Mum and Dad trust me to tell you
everything that's wrong, so I am."
"All right then." The 'doctor's' face lost that stern look. "So long as you're
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