"You're not in for anything. Maybe you should be, but that's not my
business," she said in a flat voice. That was the only thing about her
that was flat; the rest curved nicely even under the uniform. "This is
an emergency as well as a police hospital. We were close, so we took you
in."
That was reassuring. Jadiver tried to smile as he lifted a curiously
bandaged arm. "Thanks for this."
"I'll take only half the credit. That was a combo job."
He was going to have difficulty if she insisted on using technical
slang. "What's a combo job?"
"Just what it sounds like. A combination robot-human surgeon. All
hospitals use them. The robot is more precise and delicate, but it lacks
the final margin of judgment that's supplied by the human. Two of us
work together in critical cases."
He still couldn't remember what had happened, but it would come back in
time. "I was critical?"
Her mouth was firm and her cheekbones a trifle too broad. Just the same,
the total effect was pleasing, would have been more so with a little
warmth stirred in. "To give you an idea, you'll notice that every square
inch of your skin is now synthetic." She leaned over and took his hand,
which was encased in a light spongy cocoon. Expertly, she peeled back
the end and exposed the tips of his fingers.
Jadiver looked, then turned away. "Cellophane," he said. "A man can be
born, live, die, and be shoveled away; begot and beget, completely
untouched by human hands."
She looked blank at the mention of cellophane. Probably didn't know what
it was, thought Jadiver. So few people did any more.
"Don't worry about it," she said. "Your skin's transparent now, but in a
few days it will be normal."
"That's nice," said Jadiver. "I suppose it would be educational, but I'd
just as soon not be an anatomy model of the first layer of the human
body."
She stood up and managed to work up a creditable imitation of interest.
"We had to peel off the burned part, and when you were completely raw,
we fitted the synthetic skin to your body. Over that we sprayed the
bandage. New body cells form with this synthetic substance as the
matrix. You'll gradually return to normal or better. Your new skin may
be more resistant to corrosive chemicals and microbe invasions."
"Glad to hear it," said Jadiver. "Superman."
For the first time, she smiled. "Don't count on it. This stuff is too
new for us to know how it reacts in all cases." She turned around at the
door. "In a few days I'll take off the bandages and you can go home.
Meanwhile, you know what to do if you need anything."
* * * * *
Jadiver lay there after she left, thinking. He hadn't asked what the
accident was and she had assumed he remembered. He ought to, but he
didn't. He frowned and tried to recall the last thing he had been doing.
They had removed his skin and replaced it with a synthetic substance.
Why? Take it from there and work back.
He stirred uneasily. The last he remembered, he'd been in his apartment.
That didn't help much; he was often there. He shook his head. He was in
the apartment, preparing to leave. That meant he must have used the
autobath. That was it. The picture came into focus:
He touched the door of the autobath and it swung open. He went inside.
"Shave, massage, bath," he ordered.
The mechanism reached out of the wall to enfold him. He leaned back. It
gripped him, not comfortably, as usual--but tightly. He squirmed, but
when the grip didn't adjust, he relaxed.
The autobath rumbled familiarly and a jet of water spouted up from the
floor. It was icy cold and Jadiver shivered.
"You didn't listen," he said firmly. "I asked for the bath last."
The autobath paid no attention. The top and side jets turned on. The
force was greater than he had ever experienced. It was difficult to
breathe. The water got hotter rapidly, and then, seconds later, steam
blew out of the nozzles.
Jadiver shouted and tried to struggle free. The autobath did not let go.
Instead, it ground at his muscles with hard inflexible hands. Here and
there his skin began parting from his flesh. The autobath kept on
kneading him. It was when it reached for his face--Jadiver remembered
very clearly--he lost consciousness.
He lay on the bed in the hospital, sweat soaking into the bandages. He
could understand why he'd had a memory block--being boiled alive was
frightful enough for his mind to repress.
It was not only the accident that was disturbing, but the manner in
which it occurred. He knew robot machinery and the principles used in
the construction of it. The autobath was one of the best--foolproof, if
there was such a mechanism.
Someone had tampered with it--object: _to try to kill him_.
That was one possibility and he could face it with equanimity.
There was also another, but he didn't like to think about that.
* * * * *
He looked out over Venicity. From his apartment, the topography
resembled that of a lunar crater. In the middle was a giant concrete
plain, the rocketport. From the edges of the rocketport, the size of the
buildings increased gradually; at a third of the distance from the
center, they were at maximum height; thereafter, they decreased
gradually until one and two story structures nibbled at the surrounding
forest.
Five million people and in ten years there would undoubtedly be seven, a
sizable metropolis even for Earth. That didn't mean that the population
of Venus could compare with the home planet. Venus was settled
differently. Newcomers started with the cities; only later did they
venture out into the vast wild lands. Venus was civilized, after a
fashion, but it wasn't a copy of Earth.
The screen glimmered at his back. "Thadeus Jadiver, consulting
engineer?"