I nodded, spoke softly, "She was ever that way."
        "Yes," Gallett smiled gently. "The 1st time I saw her on the Rachella, this strange mix, survivor of the devastating raids and destruction in the Firhv lot our rider had retrieved and brought aboard, I found her battering away at a box she could not get to function because she would not take the time to investigate it but must shove and smack it. She had no patience. She had milky blue eyes. She had determination and stubbornness such as I had never seen. And she was a born med. I was fascinated."
        "You loved her from that moment."
        "Yes, I did."

        I looked out at the terrace. The lake beyond, I thought, would be cold and fresh. "Did the children understand?"
        "Yes. Don't be concerned for them, rider."
        "Still, I am sorry." And would always be.

        Gallett knew it and heard it in my voice. "They want Prescott to find her peace. She has many cycles ahead of her and they will be productive but excruciating if she does not change. They want her opened. They want it for her and for themselves. She's their older sister; they want more of her. They always have."
        I nodded again. It seems I could find few more words within me. I stood. "I will, I think, go out."
        Gallett stood quickly. "You won't leave us, rider?"

        "No, not yet."
        "Don't leave us without a parting."
        "I have the construction site still to assess."
        "Yes, that's so."
        I started away, yet turned back. "Thank you, Gallett. Your schedule must be in ruins about you."
        "No," she smiled, "only varied."