Raven sat thinking about Cery as she was painting. Her
daughter had grown into a beautiful woman. She tended to favor
her dead, unlamented father in looks. She was not beautiful, nor
was she really plain. She had a simple country charm. She too,
in her own way, was favored by her grandmother, for Charley
himself was taking her on a tour, so to speak, to the worlds that
her father had done the most damage to.
Cery had returned to her duties, as she called it, only a few
weeks after Raven had regained her vision. Before she had left,
she had done something special. She has a healing talent, one
that came neither from magic nor Sagans. Something that was
uniquely hers, so it seemed. She had used that ability to heal
Junior, so he could live a little longer. For now, she had arrested
the problems that he had with his heart and its tendency to self-
destruct. Raven was willing to give her own heart to save him.
She had done the same for one other, but that was long ago.
Raven was not yet the full director of the Guild. Her father
had her making most of the decisions, though. When the
problem with Timeline 2631473 came, she had no idea what to
do. It was an Earth-type world that was run by a great computer.
This computer controlled everything, and in essence, ruled the
planet and cared for its inhabitants. The previous species had
left the computer to teach and guide the other humans into their
rightful place. On that world, saurians had been the first species
to evolve. When they were dying, they introduced a form of
nanite into the early proto-humans. These nanites were
connected to the great computer that had the sum total of the
saurian's knowledge. It would, in time, help to guide the race
into what the saurians thought of as their birthright. The
problem was, the computer was dying and the humans had not
yet learned the skills needed to repair it. In fact, even in the
Guild, there was only one person who could do what was needed
to repair the machine.
Schuyler was, when it came to time travel, not the best-
suited man for the job. In fact, he was quite the worst. He
needed to be sent weeks, sometimes months, in advance, so he
could recover from the time trip. This time, he was sent a year in
advance, with a medical technician to ensure his recovery.
There had been a little problem, though. Shortly after
arriving, specifically twenty minutes after arrival, the technician
was killed. They had arrived during a storm and an electrical
pole was struck by lightning. The med tech had sacrificed
himself to save Schuyler. Mind you, Schuyler was very ill when
he was rescued by the fire department. [Tech level of this line
was the rough equivalent of Earth 1970 A.D.]
He was taken to the local hospital and treated. Fortunately,
his toolbox was thought to be just that, a simple toolbox.
Schuyler was in the hospital for several months, mostly because
he had contracted pneumonia and a virulent form of strep that
most of the natives had an immunity to. Only one in a quarter-
million was susceptible to the virus. Unfortunately for us, so was
Schuyler.
I was going to be sent there to give Schuyler a hand. "Why
me?" I asked my father.
"Because you are the only one who can successfully
complete this mission. It has gone terribly wrong, and I need
you to fix it." said my father.
So, I changed my clothes and got ready to leave. Got to love
leather, it never goes out of style. As usual, I had the time
device planted in my thigh bone. That procedure is always fun-
not!
When I arrived, Schuyler had been there for ten months. I
went to the address that was given in his first and only report.
Where did I find him? In a nursing home! He wasn't visiting.
When I walked into the room, I received a nasty surprise. He
looked like he was 70 years old, instead of his normal 35 bio
that he was stabilized at. He was skin and bone and clearly
dying.
"Well, you look like hell." I told him as I walked into the
room. He was clearly startled to see me.
"I was told I was being sent help."
"That's why I'm here." To make a long story short, first
thing I did was get him out of there and into a secure place. With
a little work, a lot of B&E, and three transfusions, I got Schuyler
strong enough to do his job. I should say, he supervised, as I
did all the work. Here's something that is really funny- my hands
can move as fast as he could think.
We were working well together when it happened. Schuyler
had just finished signing off on the repairs two days earlier.
When his heart failed, it just stopped. I managed to keep him
alive by making him drink a small amount of my blood and
shouting in his mind to start his heart up. I had very little
control of the lavender then, and had yet to get the damn TK.
After we had managed to get to a hospital, we were told,
after a lot of tests, that Schuyler was going to need a heart
transplant. Great, just peachy. That was when he informed me
that he had not done a brain tape since he had arrived at the
Guild. I'm thinking what more could go wrong. The transplant
request was denied automatically, because once you contract
the virus, there is no way to get rid of it. 'By your technology'
both of us thought.
When we went to go back to the Guild, I realized, about
three minutes before he did, that we were stuck there. Damn
temporal fugues- this one was due to the damn dragon getting
loose again. Well, what do we do now? Enter Dr. Daniel Carter, a
good kid who was really fed up with the system. This was the
young man that had initially diagnosed and treated Schuyler. He
was a cardiologist who had a brother die from the same virus,
which drove him into medicine.
Schuyler's heart was self-destructing at a rapid pace. I had
taken to giving him a pint of my blood every night just to keep
him alive. That was when I got caught.
The doctor had stayed late and caught me in the
transfusion process. He was about to call security when I tried to
use Voice on him. Here's where it gets good. He was immune to
Voice, and to make matters worse, it seemed any other will-
controlling activities. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Trying to save his life."
"By giving him a transfusion of untyped blood?"
"Yeah, just call me the ultimate universal donor."
"I'm calling security..." was all he was able to say before I
had my hand around his throat and had him standing on his
tippy-toes.
"You're not human, are you?" he asked me in a voice that
showed no fear. Turned out that he had watched me about five
days earlier doing what I was doing, but had said nothing. He
had taken a sample from the still-sleeping Schuyler and taken it
to the lab. He had seen what my blood was doing in that it was
keeping the ravages of the virus at bay.
"No, I am not." I told him. "I am trying to find a way to save
my friend. He needs a new heart, and your people won't give it
to him."
We wound up talking most of the night. I told him of the
Guild, and that we had been sent to repair the Great Machine,
but now we needed to go home. I told him that if there was a
way to give him my heart, I would.
"You can regenerate that kind of damage, can you? Then,
why not? Your cell structure bonds with that of the host, so, no
anti-rejection drugs are needed." he told me.
"One problem- who's going to do the surgery?" I asked.
"I can. I have assisted on three heart transplants." he said.
Over the next three days we, Daniel and I, formed a plan. I,
dressed as an orderly, would take Schuyler and sneak him into
the old section of the hospital's OR theater. There, we would
have the table, the anaesthesia equipment, a bypass machine,
and me. I would monitor the anaesthesia process while I was
being hooked up to the bypass machine. We would transfuse my
blood into Schuyler to help reverse the damage. While that was
happening, Daniel would remove Schuyler's heart, then would
take mine. We had it all set up, or so I thought.
We were about to start when he said, "I'm going with you. I
have no family left alive, quit my job, effective tomorrow, and
gave all my possessions to Goodwill. You have no choice but to
take me."
"Fine." was all I could say at the time. He then rolled in a
large dolly. On it was Schuyler's tool kit, my backpack of clothes,
a large metal briefcase, and a large coffin-sized crate.
"What's that for?" I asked, indicating the large crate.
"For you."
"Okay. Let's get started." I had used my ability to put
Schuyler to sleep, and set it so he would wake up when Daniel
called his full name. Better then an anaesthetic and less risky.
We put a sheet on another table and started our little
meatball surgical operation. I had removed the time device
beforehand, telling Daniel to press the button when Schuyler
was lying down on the box. We agreed that three hours would be
sufficient for my blood to do its work.
"Are you ready?" he asked me as he finished prepping
Schuyler.
"You need to leave a piece of the heart attached to the
aorta. That piece will regenerate in the basin- give it about two
minutes. Then, attack the heart and pull the bypass off once it
starts beating. The blood will do the closing for you." I
instructed. I watched him as he got ready to remove my heart. It
hurt, but I knew it was necessary.
The next thing I knew, I was back at Guildhall. Daniel had
said nothing, and I had made Schuyler forget the whole problem
with his heart. Steven just looked at me strangely. "Don't ask." I
snarled. He didn't. Danny would eventually marry, of all people,
Sydney, but that was a long time in our future. Daniel, thanks for
keeping our little secret.