They put him in the hospital at Caledonia.
The doctor was friendly but firm. "You actually got touched by that
Dragon. That's as close a shave as I've ever seen. It's all so quick
that it'll be a long time before we know what happened scientifically,
but I suppose you'd be ready for the insane asylum now if the contact
had lasted several tenths of a millisecond longer. What kind of cat
did you have out in front of you?"
Underhill felt the words coming out of him slowly. Words were such a
lot of trouble compared with the speed and the joy of thinking, fast
and sharp and clear, mind to mind! But words were all that could reach
ordinary people like this doctor.
His mouth moved heavily as he articulated words, "Don't call our
Partners cats. The right thing to call them is Partners. They fight
for us in a team. You ought to know we call them Partners, not cats.
How is mine?"
"I don't know," said the doctor contritely. "We'll find out for you.
Meanwhile, old man, you take it easy. There's nothing but rest that
can help you. Can you make yourself sleep, or would you like us to
give you some kind of sedative?"
"I can sleep," said Underhill. "I just want to know about the Lady
May."
The nurse joined in. She was a little antagonistic. "Don't you want to
know about the other people?"
"They're okay," said Underhill. "I knew that before I came in here."
He stretched his arms and sighed and grinned at them. He could see
they were relaxing and were beginning to treat him as a person instead
of a patient.
"I'm all right," he said. "Just let me know when I can go see my
Partner."
A new thought struck him. He looked wildly at the doctor. "They didn't
send her off with the ship, did they?"
"I'll find out right away," said the doctor. He gave Underhill a
reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and left the room.
The nurse took a napkin off a goblet of chilled fruit juice.
* * * * *
Underhill tried to smile at her. There seemed to be something wrong
with the girl. He wished she would go away. First she had started to
be friendly and now she was distant again. It's a nuisance being
telepathic, he thought. You keep trying to reach even when you are not
making contact.
Suddenly she swung around on him.
"You pinlighters! You and your damn cats!"
Just as she stamped out, he burst into her mind. He saw himself a
radiant hero, clad in his smooth suede uniform, the pin-set crown
shining like ancient royal jewels around his head. He saw his own
face, handsome and masculine, shining out of her mind. He saw himself
very far away and he saw himself as she hated him.
She hated him in the secrecy of her own mind. She hated him because he
was--she thought--proud, and strange, and rich, better and more
beautiful than people like her.
He cut off the sight of her mind and, as he buried his face in the
pillow, he caught an image of the Lady May.
"She _is_ a cat," he thought. "That's all she is--a _cat_!"
But that was not how his mind saw her--quick beyond all dreams of
speed, sharp, clever, unbelievably graceful, beautiful, wordless and
undemanding.
Where would he ever find a woman who could compare with her?
--CORDWAINER SMITH
[Illustration]
* * * * *