The Healer by Michael Blumlein Page A

They called her uppity for not joining them, not that they wanted her to or would have known what to do if she had. For one thing, she was tesque, and for another she was their healer, both of which set her well apart. She was also female, which to many of the men was the most alien thing about her.
    As a rule, she had the sense to ignore their catcalls. From her point of view, responding only encouraged them and made things worse. Payne was a man, but he was different from the miners. He wasn't hostile and didn't ever laugh at her. If he had a fault (and Vecque was not one to let a fault go unnoticed), it was that he was so damn upbeat.And so fervent sometimes. But she was almost always glad to see him, especially when she compared it to the alternative of eating alone.
    After getting herself some food, she joined him at his table, pulling up a chair. “I heard about your little escapade.”
    â€œNews travels fast.”
    â€œLike lightning. How are you? Recovered yet?”
    He didn't really want to talk about it, mostly because he didn't want the miners to overhear and get started in on him again. They were ruthless with their hazing. Emotionally, he was still a little raw.
    â€œI'm fine,” he said.
    She knew he wasn't. “You should have listened to me. I told you not to go.”
    He shrugged. “Nothing wrong with going. Only with what happened.”
    â€œI'll say.”
    â€œAnd nothing even wrong with that. It was a learning experience. No harm done.”
    â€œOh stop.”
    â€œIt was.”
    â€œAdmit it. You were scared to death.”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œNo? I would have been.”
    This was as close to sympathy as Vecque had ever gotten, and it loosened something up inside of him. All at once he was gushing.
    â€œI was terrified. Beyond reason. And afterward, when we were coming back, they were cracking jokes about it. I felt so embarrassed and so incredibly dumb.”
    â€œThat's just the way they like it. Makes ‘em feel smart.”
    Heads were turning toward their table, and he lowered his voice and leaned forward. “They are smart, Vecque. Down there at least. They know exactly what they're doing. I'm the one who made the mistake of getting lost.”
    â€œIs that what you think?”
    â€œIt's what happened. You can't blame them for that.” It seemed stupid, but here he was defending them.
    Vecque regarded him, wondering how anyone could be so out of touch. Was the point even worth pursuing? She had her doubts.
    â€œI hate to burst your bubble, but you didn't get lost.”
    â€œYes,” he answered stubbornly. “I did.”
    â€œThey ditched you.”
    â€œYou're wrong.”
    â€œI'm not,” she said. “They did. Intentionally.”
    He didn't believe her. “Why do you say that? How do you know?”
    â€œBecause I know these men. I know what humans are capable of.”
    It was just as he thought. This was Vecque speaking; it was prejudice, not fact.
    â€œThat's your fantasy. It isn't mine.”
    â€œIt's no fantasy, Payne. I heard them talking.” She hesitated, not thrilled to be the bearer of this news. “Look, I'm sorry, but I heard.”
    â€œHeard what?”
    â€œThat they let you get lost. That they left you there.”
    â€œThey said that?”
    She nodded.
    â€œOh,” he said, then “oh” again. “So that's why they were laughing.”
    â€œI imagine so.”
    He considered this, and at length he brightened. “It was all a joke.”
    â€œNot exactly.”
    â€œSure it was.” He had heard of pranks being played on new miners, harmless things like bolting down their lunch pails or serving them grease sandwiches. Humiliating in the moment but not to be taken personally or confused with the intention of doing a person harm. More like rites of passage, required for acceptance in the group. Which had to be what this had been.
    He took it as