The Hierarch gave her a long looking over, head to toe, as though assessing how well she would dress out for meat. It was not a look Marjorie had met before, and it chilled her. The Hierarch was not interested in her as woman or person, so much was clear.
“I will tell you precisely what we heard. A minor official at Sanctity was visiting his family. One of his visiting kinfolk worked as a port controller on Shame. Sometimes this kinsman stopped in at a port tavern after work. On some unspecified occasion, he talked over his ale with a crewman from an unnamed freighter, The crewman said his friend, unnamed, had come down with some sores on his legs and arms just before the ship landed on Grass. The sick man was in a quarantine pod. The ship was on Grass an unspecified length of time. When it arrived at some farther destination, the man was cured.”
“That’s all?”
“Our official repeated this story to us when he returned from his visit to his family. Our computers say the likelihood is great that the unnamed crewman had plague, but we’ve been unable to verify the story. The man who told it to our official died of plague shortly after leaving Terra. We don’t know where the alleged ship went from Grass. We have been unable to identify the ship or the crewman.”
Rigo threw up his hands, indicating frustration. “Assuming the story is true, the cure could have come about here or elsewhere. Or he might not have had plague at all. Plague isn’t the only thing that causes sores!” He let his voice and manner indicate frustration and fear. That was normal, and it would cover his agitation.
The Hierarch stared at them expressionlessly. “Have any survivors from the Friary been found?”
Rigo nodded. “A few, yes. Some are beginning to wander back to the site as they realize we’ll be searching for them there.”
“My old friend Nod—that is, Jhamlees Zoe?”
Rigo shook his head, unwilling to trust his voice. No. Jhamlees Zoe hadn’t turned up. If Rigo said that aloud it wouldn’t take a machine to detect that he rejoiced in the fact.
The Hierarch nodded, as though someone had asked him a question. “I think we’ll remain here for the time being. Zoe may yet turn up. Or you may find some more definite information.”
In the shuttle, Marjorie asked, “Rigo, the crewman in the quarantine pod, assuming there was one, would have been given Grassian food and water and air, would he not?”
“Certainly.” He nodded, indicating the men seated in front of them. “Quarantine pods allow nothing out, but materials do go in.”
She chased an idea, worrying at it, but she asked no other questions.
They were escorted back to the order station by a handful of troopers. “There are definitely enough armed men on that ship to control the planet.” Marjorie said to Roald Few.
“If they decide to do so,” Rigo agreed.
“What do you think?” Roald asked, throwing a side long glance at his son-in-law, the Mayor.
“I think the Hierarch is doubtful,” Rigo replied. “If I were the Hierarch, my next step would be to send the scientists down.”
“Wouldn’t he have told you that?” the mayor wanted to know.
Marjorie laughed, an unamused sound. “We aren’t among the Sanctified, Mayor Bee. He doesn’t like us, doesn’t trust us. Probably he doesn’t like or trust much of anyone. He’ll get what he can from us, but he won’t give us anything in return.”
“Smart man,” remarked Alverd. “Not to trust us Commons. We’ve no love for Sanctity. He’s one should die of plague.”
“When that letter of his becomes public, he may wish he had,” Marjorie said. “Until then, we simply hang on and get in his way as much as possible.”
They were given no further opportunity to impede the Hierarch. Sanctity scientists came down and occupied the hospital, setting up their own mysterious equipment.
“It doesn’t matter what they find out,” Marjorie reminded Rigo. “So long as Dr. Bergrem finds it, too.”
“It would be better if she found it first,” Rigo objected, taking Marjorie by the arm and leading her to a quiet corner. “You and I need to agree on what we will say if the Hierarch asks more questions. All of Commons needs to agree on what they will say.” They discussed their strategy, at first alone, then with Roald and Alverd. When they had worn the subject thin, they returned to their rooms in the winter quarters, to more sleep and more of Kinny’s cooking.