Chronicles of Chiron: Reformatting Data Haven | Scene 12

The tension is gone from the room when Louisa returns for the next batch of equipment. Marina loads her down with a larger electronic device, maybe some sort of EKG. When Louisa is once again on her way outside, Marina asks me and Cleve about her. “So I talked a little bit with Louisa, but you know her better than I do. Do you think she’s safe to bring on our trip as well? I know she would want to go meet more Stepdaughters. But I also think she would want to be part of whatever fight happens here.”

“Be part of the resistance? Yeah,” I agree. I consider my answer for a moment. Cleve doesn’t jump in, so I give my impressions. “Louisa’s group is made up of people who have various concepts of the Stepdaughters of Chiron. Your organization has achieved some sort of mythical status with them.”

“Yeah, that was the impression I got. She asked me many strange questions.”

“Like about superpowers?”

Marina nods. “She was definitely trying not to word it that way, but that is exactly what she was getting at.”

“Some people in that organization, like Louisa, are very militant. Others seemed not so keen on violence but also didn’t have a lot of other avenues for supporting the environment. Except, now they do. We gave them your information virus, so they are spreading that in the dome.” Some of the worry creases smooth off Marina’s features at this one piece of encouraging news. “Some of them were very appreciative to have a non-violent avenue of expression.”

“Yes, the level of militancy, that’s going to be difficult for people to accept back at Stepdaughters of Chiron,” Marina says.

“Yeah, so, I don’t know whether Louisa needs to go meet them, or this is simply another liaison opportunity for you—to get this kid’s head on straight as to what the Stepdaughters of Chiron actually are.”

“She didn’t come with us to see Data Haven,” Cleve chimes in. “She came with us to see you.”

“Oh!” This hadn’t occurred to Marina.

“So we don’t really know what she wants,” he adds.

“All right, I’ll have another talk with her, and we’ll sort out exactly what her role is. I have a feeling that bringing her to the Stepdaughters during this tumultuous time would not be the best choice.”

“I agree,” I tell Marina plainly. I wasn’t even confident about bringing Louisa to Data Haven when we first met. “I think you just impressing upon her a firsthand experience of one of the Stepdaughters would be good. And then hopefully she can take that back to her group.” Marina likes the sound of that. “And if she is going to go back to the dome to press forward your agenda on Morgan’s home soil, then there are other things that we can entrust with her to take back, too.” 

“Yes, that sounds good,” Marina sighs out. She sounds worn down by the conversation, and I don’t blame her. She brightens, though, at the prospect of why I first came in here. “But for now…” she gestures at the arm hidden under my poncho.

I smile. “Yeah, for now, let’s head outside and see what there is to see.”

When we get to the surface, Louisa has the equipment all prepped. Apparently she’s been a quick study down in the medical center over the past few days. So far all the Stepdaughters of Chiron associates I’ve met have some sort of medical support role, regardless of their primary area of study. She’s fitting right in.

I take off my poncho and slip my left arm from its sling. Dr. Citali moves my tank top aside here and there in order to affix leads to various parts of my chest. She’s careful with the ones around my temple, since the bruises are still healing on the left side there. I ask her to unsplint my arm so that I can directly touch the injury with my right hand. Physical contact makes directing my attention much easier.

My left arm looks ghastly, discolored and swollen as it is. I cradle it with my right hand, and then the light show starts. The twinkling begins along the surface of my right hand, but it sinks into my left arm. The purple sparkles are subtle out here in broad daylight, but I’m concentrating a lot of energy and it shows in my eyes, too. Most of my attention is directed inward, at all the twinges and aches, but I hear the occasional comment from my audience.

Marina is fascinated. She’s tracking multiple gauges but also watching with her own eyes. She has an honest-to-goodness magnetic tape recorder, into which she dictates her observations in hushed tones. “Spontaneous appearance of purplish light…” I hear at one point. She has Louisa monitoring a miasma alarm. I don’t set this one off shrieking, but its ticking definitely picks up during the experiment.

When the lights fade away and I declare that I’m done, Dr. Citali rushes over to inspect my arm. Her fingers and eyes can only tell her so much, so we go back down to the medical center for another round of X-rays. “This is incredible,” she says, comparing them to the ones she took on my first day back. Every sliver of bone is back in place, but the thin fracture lines are still visible. The film can’t show the mycelia binding them all together, but I know it’s there. The breaks will heal without any additional surgery or pins to hold the bones in place. “You should still take it easy on this arm for a little bit,” she advises me, helping me put on a brace. “Those edges still need to fuse back together.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “This is amazing, how everything is now perfectly aligned.”

I’m relieved. That this worked, that I’m going to get back full use of my arm, that the pain is going down—and I didn’t hurt myself in the process. But also that Marina is so fascinated. She’s taken reams of notes, and she’s got hours of pleasure ahead of her as she studies them and considers the implications. She and Corazon look nothing alike, but at this moment, that’s who I think of. The worries of an hour ago have been soothed away. Marina looks happy.