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at knew only five.
No wonder he'd bonded with Michelle. He was almost synesthesiac himself.
"You spent a bit longer in there than the rest of us," he remarked.
"That's significant?"
A jerking shrug. "Maybe your organs got a bit more cooked than ours. Maybe you just got a delicate constitution. Your pod would've caught anything--imminent, so I figure--ah."
"What?"
"Some cells along your brainpan going into overdrive. More in your bladder and kidney."
"Tumors?"
"What you expect? Rorschach's no rejuve spa."
"But the pod--"
Szpindel grimaced; his idea of a reassuring smile. "Repairs ninety-nine point nine percent of the damage, sure. By the time you get to the last zero-point-one, you're into diminishing returns. These're small, commissar. Chances are your own body'll take care of 'em. If not, we know where they live."
"The ones in my brain. Could they be causing--"
"Not a chance." He chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Course, cancer's not all that thing did to us."
"What I saw. Up in the crypt. It had these multijointed arms from a central mass. Big as a person, maybe."
Szpindel nodded. "Get used to it."
"The others are seeing these things?"
"I doubt it. Everyone has a different take, like--" his twitching face conveyed Dare I say it? "--Rorschach blots."
"I was expecting hallucinations in the field," I admitted, "but up here?"
"TMS effects--" Szpindel snapped his fingers-- "they're sticky, eh? Neurons get kicked into one state, take a while to come unstuck. You never got a TAT? Well-adjusted boy like you?"
"Once or twice," I said. "Maybe."
"Same principle."
"So I'm going to keep seeing this stuff."
"Party line is they fade over time. Week or two you're back to normal. But out here, with that thing..." He shrugged. "Too many variables. Not the least of which is, I assume we'll keep going back until