“I'm sorry,” Fords apologized at once. “I didn't mean to react so negatively. It's just that I fear
for this soul.”
His eyes moved to the cryotank on its stand beside the table. The light was a steady, dull red,
indicating that it was occupied and in hibernation mode.
“This soul was specially picked for the assignment,” Darren said soothingly. “She is exceptional
among our kind–braver than most. Her lives speak for themselves. I think she would volunteer,
if it were possible to ask her.”
“Who among us would not volunteer if asked to do something for the greater good? But is that
really the case here? Is the greater good served by this? The question is not her willingness, but
what it is right to ask any soul to bear.”
The Healing students were discussing the hibernating soul as well. Fords could hear the
whispers clearly; their voices were rising now, getting louder with their excitement.
“She's lived on six planets.”
“I heard seven.”
“I heard she's never lived two terms as the same host species.”
“Is that possible?”
“She's been almost everything. A Flower, a Bear, a Spider –”
“A See Weed, a Bat –”
“Even a Dragon!”
“I don't believe it–not seven planets.”
“At least seven. She started on the Origin.”
“Really? The Origin?”
“Quiet, please!” Fords interrupted. “If you cannot observe professionally and silently, then I will
have to ask you to remove yourselves.”
Abashed, the six students fell silent and edged away from one another.
“Let's get on with this, Darren.”
Everything was prepared. The appropriate medicines were laid out beside the human girl. Her
long dark hair was secured beneath a surgical cap, exposing her slender neck. Deeply sedated,
she breathed slowly in and out. Her sun-browned skin had barely a mark to show for her…
accident.
“Begin thaw sequence now, please, Darren.”
The gray-haired assistant was already waiting beside the cryotank, his hand resting on the dial.
He flipped the safety back and spun down on the dial. The red light atop the small gray cylinder
began to pulse, flashing faster as the seconds passed, changing color.
Fords concentrated on the unconscious body; he edged the scalpel through the skin at the base
of the subject's skull with small, precise movements, and then sprayed on the medication that
stilled the excess flow of blood before he widened the fissure. Fords delved delicately beneath
the neck muscles, careful not to injure them, exposing the pale bones at the top of the spinal
column.
“The soul is ready, Fords,” Darren informed him.
“So am I. Bring her.”
Fords felt Darren at his elbow and knew without looking that his assistant would be prepared,
his hand stretched out and waiting; they had worked together for many years now. Fords held
the gap open.
“Send her home,” he whispered.
Darren's hand moved into view, the silver gleam of an awaking soul in his cupped palm.
Fords never saw an exposed soul without being struck by the beauty of it.
The soul shone in the brilliant lights of the operating room, brighter than the reflective silver
instrument in his hand. Like a living ribbon, she twisted and rippled, stretching, happy to be free
of the cryotank. Her thin, feathery attachments, nearly a thousand of them, billowed softly like
