Burn | Page 3

on Walden."
"So why do you want to know what kind of creature would puree his mind into a smear
of quantum foam and entangle it with a bot brain a hundred and thirty-some light-years
away? Sit up, son."
Spur didn't know what to say. He had imagined that Dr. Niss must be posted nearby,
somewhere here at the upsiders' compound at Concord, or perhaps in orbit.
"You do realize that the stars are very far away?"
"We're not simple here, Dr. Niss." He could feel the blood rushing in his cheeks. "We
practice simplicity."
"Which complicates things." The docbot twisted off its medfinger and popped it into the
sterilizer. "Say you greet your girlfriend on the tell. You have a girlfriend?"
"I'm married," said Spur, although he and Comfort had separated months before he left
for the firefight and, now that Vic was dead, he couldn't imagine how they would ever get
back together.
"So you're away with your squad and your wife is home in your village mowing the goats
or whatever she does with her time. But when you talk on the tell it's like you're sitting
next to each other. Where are you then? At home with her? Inside the tell?"
"Of course not."
"For you, of course not. That's why you live on Walden, protected from life on the upside.
But where I come from, it's a matter of perspective. I believe I'm right here, even though
the shell I'm saved in is elsewhere." The sterilizer twittered. "I'm inhabiting this bot in
this room with you." The docbot opened the lid of the sterilizer, retrieved the medfinger
with its gripper and pressed it into place on the bulkhead with the other instruments.
"We're done here," it said abruptly. "Busy, busy, other souls to heal, don't you know?
Which reminds me: We need your bed, son, so we're moving your release date up. You'll
be leaving us the day after tomorrow. I'm authorizing a week of rehabilitation before you
have to go back to your squad. What's rehab called on this world again?"
"Civic refreshment."
"Right." The docbot parked itself at its station beside the door to the examining room.
"Refresh yourself." Its headplate dimmed and went dark.

Spur slid off the examination table, wriggled out of the hospital gown and pulled his
uniform pants off the hanger in the closet. As he was buttoning his shirt, the docbot lit its
eye. "You're welcome, son." Its laugh was like a door slamming. "Took me a moment to
understand what you were trying to say. I keep forgetting what it's like to be anchored."
"Anchored?" said Spur.
"Don't be asking so many questions." The docbot tapped its dome. "Not good for the
soul." The blue light in its eye winked out.
Two
Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not
indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
- Walden
Spur was in no hurry to be discharged from the hospital, even if it was to go home for a
week. He knew all too well what was waiting for him. He'd find his father trying to do
the work of two men in his absence. Gandy Joy would bring him communion and then
drag him into every parlor in Littleton. He'd be wined and dined and honored and
possibly seduced and be acclaimed by all a hero. He didn't feel like a hero and he surely
didn't want to be trapped into telling the grandmas and ten-year-old boys stories about the
horrors of the firefight.
But what he dreaded most was seeing his estranged wife. It was bad enough that he had
let her little brother die after she had made Spur promise to take care of him. Worse yet
was that Vic had died a torch. No doubt he had been in secret contact with the pukpuks,
had probably passed along information about the Corps of Firefighters -- and Spur hadn't
suspected a thing. It didn't matter that Vic had pushed him away during their time serving
together in Gold Squad -- at one time they had been best friends. He should have known;
he might have been able to save Vic. Spur had already decided that he would have to lie
to Comfort and his neighbors in Littleton about what had happened, just as he had lied to
Dr. Niss. What was the point in smearing his dead friend now? And Spur couldn't help
the Cooperative root out other pukpuk sympathizers in the Corps; he had no idea who
Vic's contacts had been.
However, Spur had other reasons for wanting to stay right where he was. Even though he
could scarcely draw breath without violating simplicity, he loved the comforts of the
hospital. For example, the