The Child Goddess by Louise Marley Page B

light blinking at her like an unfocused eye. She murmured, “Do you suppose they enjoy my prayers?”
    Oa’s eyes moved from Isabel to the camera and back. Isabel wasn’t sure she understood. But as they left the room, she saw that Oa glanced once more up at the camera. Isabel was sure she saw a quick, defiant blaze in Oa’s dark eyes. She hoped they—whoever was watching—had seen it, too.
    *
    WHEN JIN-LI CHUNG spoke a cheerful greeting over the comm system, Isabel and Oa hurried out into the central room. The longshoreman was at the window, a wrapped package in one hand. A big redheaded woman was there as well, wearing a huge grin as she looked through the glass.
    Oa exclaimed, “Ship lady!”
    Isabel turned to see Oa’s flashing white smile, a hand lifted in greeting to the redheaded woman. Isabel nodded to their visitors. laughing. “Good morning, Jin-Li,” she said. “I gather Oa knows your companion.”
    The redheaded woman leaned closer to the glass. “Hey, kiddo,” she said in a deep voice. “It’s good to see you.” She turned her eyes to Isabel. “Mother Burke. I’m Matty Phipps. I was crew on the transport from Virimund.”
    “So I understand,” Isabel said. “You were kind to Oa.”
    “Mother Burke—” Jin-Li began, and glanced to the left, where Appleton stood, arms crossed, eyes watching the corridor.
    “I think you should call me Isabel, Jin-Li.”
    Jin-Li’s long eyes gleamed briefly. “Thank you. Isabel. Matty tells me the doctor kept Oa awake the whole journey.”
    Isabel felt the smile fade from her lips, and her skin went cold. “He kept her awake? You mean, all those months, alone in quarantine . . .”
    “Right,” Phipps said. Isabel saw the anger in the big woman’s eyes, in the set of her long jaw. “Whole ship in twilight sleep except crew, Adetti, and the little girl.”
    A chill fury tightened Isabel’s cheeks and prickled across her scalp. She gripped her cross. “Fourteen months,” she breathed. She turned and gazed at Oa.
    The child had taken her customary place, scrunched on her bed, the teddy bear in her arms. Her eyes searched Isabel’s for reassurance. Isabel tried to smile at her, but her lips were stiff with anger. Fourteen months, alone, with only Adetti for company, and occasional visits from the ship lady. And still the child had not broken.
    She turned back to the window, and her voice dropped. “Jin-Li. Do you have it?”
    Jin-Li Chung held up the wrapped package. “I can send it in with your breakfast.”
    “Adetti?”
    “Hasn’t arrived at the Multiplex yet. But soon.”
    “Better not wait for breakfast then. Please ask Jay if he would bring the package in now, Jin-Li. I don’t want this child to spend another day as a prisoner.”
    *
    “ISABEL?” SIMON COULD hardly believe his ears. When his secretary had announced the call, he had been certain she was mistaken. “Isabel, aren’t you in Seattle?”
    “I am,” she said. He heard the deep note in her voice. She was angry.
    “Tell me,” he said. He saw her in memory, the smooth scalp, the clear gray eyes, the set of her jaw when she lost her temper. He wished she had used a video phone.
    “I have to be quick,” she said. “They’ll cut off the call if they know I’m making it.”
    “You mean—ExtraSolar? They’re not letting you—”
    “Simon. I can explain all that later. For now, listen, all right? You have to hear this.”
    She spoke swiftly, and Simon listened. He soon understood why she was angry, and why she had called. It wasn’t for him, not a change of heart, but for the child. Still, foolishly, his heart lifted.
    Within half an hour he had Hilda Kronin in his office again. Within an hour, he had invoked the authority of World Health and Welfare to demand an accounting from Paolo Adetti, Gretchen Boreson, and ExtraSolar Corporation over the treatment of an indigenous child from Virimund. Within two hours, Simon had a sample of medicator readouts from Adetti’s