"But without your special interest, the solution might well have come too late to do Peregrine any good," the Secretary-General countered. "And it was not only your technique, it was your skill that pulled him through. There is no duplication of that, not in this sector, anyway. That's why I arranged for this visit I wanted to thank you."
Kenny shrugged deprecatingly. This was the most perfect opening he'd ever seen in his life, and he had no intention of letting it get away from him. Not when he had the answer to Tia's prayers trapped in his office.
"I can't win them all, sir," he said flatly. "I'm not a god. Though there are times I wish most profoundly that I was, and right now is one of them."
The Great Man's expression sobered. The Secretary-General was not just a Great Man because he was an excellent administrator; he was one because he had a human side, and that human and humane side could be touched. "I take it you have a case that is troubling you?" Then, conscious of the feet that he owed Kenny, he said the magic words. "Perhaps I can help?"
Kenny sighed, as if he were reluctant to continue the discussion. Wouldn't do to seem too eager. "Well, would you care to see some tape of the child?"
Child. Children were one of the Great Man's weaknesses. He had sponsored more child-oriented programs than any three of his predecessors combined. "Yes. If it would not be violating the child's privacy."
"Here," Kenny flicked a switch, triggering the holo-record he already had keyed up. A record he and Anna had put together. Carefully edited, carefully selected, compiled from days of recordings with Lars' assistance and the psych-profile of the Great Man to guide them. "I promise I won't take more than fifteen minutes of your time."
The first seven and a half minutes of this recording were of Tia at her most attractive; being very brave and cheerful for the interns and her parents. "This is Hypatia Cade, the daughter of Pota Andropolous-Cade and Braddon Maartens-Cade," he explained, over the holo. Quickly he outlined her background and her pathetic little story, stressing her high intelligence, her flexibility, her responsibility. "The prognosis isn't very cheerful, I'm afraid," he said, watching his chrono carefully to time his speech with the end of that section of tape. "No matter what we do, she's doomed to spend the rest of her life in some institution or other. The only way she could be at all mobile would be through direct synaptic connections, well, we don't do that here, they can only link in that way at Lab Schools, the shell-person project."
He stopped, as the holo flickered and darkened. Tia was alone.
The arm of her chair reached out and grasped the sad little blue bear, hidden until now by the tray table and a pillow. It brought the toy in close to her face, and she gently rubbed her cheek against its soft fur coat The lightning bolt of the Courier Service on its shirt stood out clearly in this shot... one reason why Kenny had chosen it
"They've gone, Ted," she whispered to her bear. "Mum and Dad, they've gone back to the Institute, There's nobody left here but you, now,"
A single bright tear formed in one corner of her eye and slowly rolled down her cheek, catching what little light there was in the room.
"What? Oh, no, it's not their fault, Ted, they had to. The Institute said so, I saw the dispatch. It said, it said since I w-w-wasn't going to get any b-b-b-better there was no p-p-p-point in, in, wasting v-v-valuable t-t-time."
She sobbed once, and buried her face in the teddy bear's fur.
After a moment, her voice came again, muffled. "Anyway, it hurts them so m-much. And it's s-s-so hard to be-b-brave for them. But if I cried, th-they'd only feel w-worse. I think m-maybe it's b-better this way, don't you? Easier. F-for every-b-b-b-body."
The holo flickered again; same time, nearly the same position, but a different day. This time she was crying openly, tears coursing down her cheeks as she sobbed into the bear's little shirt.
"We've given her the complete run of the library and the holo collection," Kenny said, very softly. "Normally, they keep her relatively amused and stimulated, but just before we filmed this, she picked out an episode of The Stellar Explorers, and, well, her parents said she had planned to be a pilot, you see, "
She continued to cry, sobbing helplessly, the only understandable words being "-Teddy, I wanted, to go. I wanted to see the stars."
The holo flickered out, as Kenny turned the lights in his office back up. He reached for a tissue and wiped his eyes without shame. "I'm afraid she affects me rather profoundly," he said, and smiled weakly. "So much for my professional detachment."
The Great Man blinked rapidly to clear his own eyes. "Why isn't something being done for that child?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.
"We've done all we can, here," Kenny said. "The only possibility of giving that poor child any kind of a life is to get her into the shell-person program. But the Psychs at the Laboratory Schools seem to think she's too old. They wouldn't even send someone to come evaluate her, even though the parents petitioned them and we added our own recommendations."
He let the sentence trail off significantly. The Secretary-General gave him a sharp look. "And you don't agree with them, I take it?"
Kenny shrugged. "It isn't just my opinion," he said smoothly. "It's the opinion of the staff Psych assigned to her, the shell-person running this station, and a brainship friend of hers in the Courier Service. The one," he added delicately, "who gave her that little bear."
Mentioning the bear sold the deal; Kenny could see it in the Great Man's expression. "We'll just see about that," the Secretary-General said. "The people you talked to don't have all the answers, and they certainly don't have the final say." He stood up and offered Kenny his hand again. "I won't promise anything, but don't be surprised if there's someone from the Laboratory Schools here to see her in the next few days. How soon can you have her ready for transfer, if they take her?"
"Within twelve hours, sir," Kenny replied, secretly congratulating himself for getting her parents to sign a writ-of-consent before they left. Of course, they thought it was for experimental procedures.