“Mention my name. And good luck.”
Kieran expected Trevany to clear down, but a short pause followed. Then Trevany said, “There was something else I wanted to ask. Our expedition’s medic has had to drop out. His main work is in biological research. He thought he’d have some spare time, but it turned out that some work he’s involved with in Lowell is at a crucial point. What kind of doctor are you? I wondered if it was something you’d be able to help out with at short notice. We could offer pretty good remuneration . . . if you were interested.”
Kieran smiled. “It’s nice of you to think of me. But to be frank, my calling to the curative arts is not of the physicians’ kind. I suppose it would be better described as remedying wrongs that ought to be put right.” June caught his eye with a questioning look.
“Oh . . . okay,” Trevany said. “Maybe this Elaine might know someone, if she’s a nurse.”
“Possibly,” Kieran said. “But I’m afraid she left Mars yesterday. She’s going to be gone for a long time. But I know other people too, Walter. Let me ask around. If I come up with someone who might be able to take it on, I’ll have them get in touch.”
“Well, if it wouldn’t be a lot of trouble . . .”
“Not at all. It’s my turn to do the favor. Leave it to me.”
“Thanks a lot. I’ll be hoping to hear from someone then.”
“Bye for now, Walter.”
“So what was that about?” June asked after Kieran had cleared down. “I presume the `Walter’ was Walter Trevany.”
“Yes. He had another detail about Elaine that he’d remembered. Also, they’re having trouble finding a part to fix something on the Juggernaut—that’s what they’ve called their mobile lab.”
“Hm. I kind of like it.”
“Anyway, I put him on to Mahom.”
“So what was the bit about curative arts and physicians?” June asked. “I take it he still thinks you’re a doctor.”
Kieran explained the situation. “I’ll try calling Donna for a start. She might be able to put me on to some ships’ doctors who are laying over between trips right now. A jaunt out across the surface might be appealing. It sounds as if they could find themselves involved in some quite interesting things, too.”
June looked at him thoughtfully while he drank from his cup and then began folding the paper with the forged signatures into an origami form. “Then why don’t you?” she said finally.
“What?”
June leaned forward to the table, intent on making her point. “Perhaps you ought to disappear for a while. I’m probably going to be tied up for some time in whatever repercussions develop at Quantonix. But more importantly, it’s very likely that there are people still here in Lowell who might recognize you—with very awkward consequences. Making yourself scarce might be a good idea.” The movements of Kieran’s hands slowed as he considered what she was saying. He looked up. There was, of course, one small detail that she couldn’t have overlooked: he wasn’t a doctor. As if reading his mind, she went on, “Didn’t you have some training in that line when you were with the military? If what Walter needs is someone on hand for accidents, emergencies and that kind of thing, you might be able to fit the bill as a kind of corpsman. And backup is never far away these days. I think you should think about it.”
Kieran sat back, rubbing his chin. The look on his face already said there was nothing to argue or disagree with. It also said he was becoming more taken with the thought by the moment. “I’d probably have to leave Guinness with you,” he said at last. “Walter was a bit stodgy about having dogs around when I was out there. In any case, Guinness would have to be shut up inside all the time if he went. . . . I wonder if they’ll ever make dog suits.”
“That’s not a problem. Patti and Grace could have him some of the time. They’d love it.”
Kieran let the proposition shuffle through his head one last time. Then he picked up his comset again, drew out the handpiece, and called Trevany’s number. “Walter,” he said when Trevany answered. “Kieran Thane again. Look, I’ve been thinking more about this problem of yours. There’s a chance I might be able to help after all. What kind of thing are you looking for, exactly? . . .”