Part 55 (1/2)

”You must be Perry,” she said, setting the laptop down and giving him an unexpected hug. ”That was from Hilda. I saw her a couple hours ago. She was very adamant that I pa.s.s it on to you.”

”Nice to meet you, he said, accepting a cup of tea from an insulated jug on a cardboard side-board. ”Hilda is all right?”

”Sit down,” the lawyer said.

Perry's stomach turned a somersault. ”Hilda's all right?”

”Sit.”

Perry sat.

”She was ga.s.sed with a neurotoxin that has given her a temporary but severe form of Parkinson's disease. Normally it just renders people immobile, but one in a million has a reaction like this. It's just bad luck that Hilda was one of them.”

”She was *ga.s.sed*?”

”They all were. There was a h.e.l.l of a fight, as I understand it. It really looks like it was the cops' fault. Someone told them that there were printed guns in the ride-location and they used extreme and disproportionate force.”

”I see,” Perry said. His blood whooshed in his ears. Printed guns? No frigging way. Sure, ray-guns in some of the exhibits. But nothing that fired anything. He felt tears begin to stream down his face. The lawyer moved to his sofa and put her arm around his shoulders.

”She's going to be fine,” Candice said. ”The Parkinson's is rare, but it goes away in 100 percent of the the cases where it occurs. What this means is that we've got an amazing chance of taking a huge bite out of the local law that we can use to fund future defense. Tjan told me that that's the strategy and I think it's sound. Plus the harder we hit the law today, the more reluctant they'll be to rush off half-c.o.c.ked the next time someone trumps up a BS trademark claim. It could be much worse, Perry. There's a kid who lost an eye to a rubber bullet.”

Perry fisted the tears away. ”Let's go get her,” he said.

”They say she shouldn't be moved,” Candice said.

”What does our doctor say?”

”I phoned a couple MDs this afternoon and got conflicting stories. Everyone agrees that not moving her is safer than moving her, though. The only disagreement is about how dangerous it would be to move her.”

”Let's go see her, then.”

”That we can do.”

Perry had trouble with the search at the prison hospital. His cast and their scanners didn't get along and they couldn't be satisfied with a hand search. For a couple minutes it looked like he was going to be kept out, but Candice -- who had changed into a power-suit before they left the office -- put on a stern voice and demanded to speak to the duty sergeant, and then to his commanding officer, and in ten minutes, they were on the hospital ward, where the metal-railed beds had prisoners handcuffed to them.

”Hilda?” She looked sunken and sick, her face slack and her jaw askew. Her eyes opened and rolled crazily, they focused on him. Her body shook through two waves of tremors before she was able to raise a shaking hand toward him, trailing IV tubes. She was trying to say his name, but it wouldn't come out, just a series of plosive Ps.

But then he took her hand and felt its fine warmth, the calluses he remembered from all those months ago, and he felt better. Actually better. Felt some peace for the first time in a long time.

”h.e.l.lo, Hilda,” he said, and he was smiling so broadly his face hurt, and tears were running down his cheeks and dripping off his nose and running into his mouth. She was weeping, too, her head vibrating like a bobble-doll. He bent over her and took her head in his hands, burying them in her thick blond hair, and kissed her on the lips. She shook under him, but she kissed him back, he could feel her lips move on his.

They kissed for a long time. He subconsciously took note of the fact that Candice had moved back, giving them some privacy. When the kiss broke, he had an overwhelming desire to tell her he loved her, but they hadn't taken that step yet, and maybe a prison hospital bed wasn't the right place to make p.r.o.nouncements of love.

”I love you,” he said softly, in her ear, kissing the lobe. ”I love you, Hilda.”

She cried harder, and made choking sobs. He hugged her as hard as he dared. Candice came back and stood by them.

”They think that she'll be better in the morning. She's already much better off than she was just a couple hours ago. Sleep's the only thing for it. They've got her mildly sedated, too.”

Hilda smelled like he remembered, the undersmell beneath her shampoo and the chemicals clinging to her hair. It took him back to their night together, and he stroked her cheek.