Clemens smiled. ?She’s not in any condition to cause much trouble. Don’t we owe all God’s children a fighting chance??

?We don’t know whose child she is.?The two men stared at each other a moment longer. Then Dillon moved 29

29

aside to let the tech pass. His gaze followed Clemens until he stepped through the portal leading to tunnel D.

The woman lay motionless on the bed, for a change not moaning, not dreaming. Clemens checked the IV pack taped to her arm. Without knowing the specifics of her condition he’d been forced to treat her for general debilitation. In addition to glucose and sucrose the pack contained a broad range of tolerant antibiotics in solution, REM-sleep modifiers, and painkillers. The tough ID tag she’d been wearing had been damaged in the crash, so he’d been forced to treat her without the crucial information it contained. He’d monitored her carefully for any signs of rejection and was relieved when none manifested themselves. At least she wasn’t allergic to anything he’d pumped into her system so far.

He was gratified to see that the armpack was nearly empty. That meant her body was making good use of the rehab solution. The readouts on the VS checker as he passed it over her chest and skull stayed green. Thus encouraged, he slipped a capsule into the injector and turned her arm slightly to expose more of the tricep.

Her eyes snapped open as if she’d only been faking sleep. Startled by the speed of her reaction, he hesitated. She indicated the device in his hand.

?What’s that??

?General site injector.?

?I can see that. You know what I mean.?

He smiled slightly. ?A light cocktail of my own devising. Sort of an eye-opener. Adrenaline, some selected designer endorphins, a couple of mystery proteins. For flavor. I think your body’s recovered sufficiently to metabolize them. Five minutes after they’ve dispersed through your system you’ll feel a lot better than you do now.?

She continued to eye him warily. ?Are you a doctor?? 30

He shrugged and looked away momentarily, as if the question made him uncomfortable. ?General med tech. I’ve only got a 3-C rating. But I’m the best you’re going to find around here.?He leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he inspected her hair appraisingly. ?I really ought to shave your head. Should’ve done it right away but I was busy with more important things.?

This admission caused Ripley to sit bolt upright in the bed, clutching the sheet protectively to her neck.

?Take it easy. I’m no murderer. Though you’ll find them here.?

?Why do you have to shave my head??