Free Earth Has Been Found by D. F. Jones Page B

way of knowing how much worse things were about to become.
     

 
    XII.
     
    By February, 1983, Abdera Hollow had sunk back into its old rut, many citizens very tired indeed of the publicity their little town had received from the ill-fated charter flight. Many, too, were jealous of the time travelers, especially when the first handouts arrived, two thousand dollars apiece. Not that the general citizenry could plead poverty. Free-spending reporters had boosted the slack prewinter sports period, but by the end of the year they’d gone. It might be the news story of the decade, but the travelers were not the news. There were limits to the in-depth study of a seventy-year-old woman whose unremarkable life included only this one fantastic moment, about which she was totally ignorant.
    The average Abderan took more interest in some of the domestic repercussions of the flight. In his wife’s absence, one bereaved husband had speedily taken up with another, younger woman. Marriage was planned. The stormy confrontation between the two women affected most Abderans; they’d known the characters in the drama all their lives. Interest rose when the second woman announced she was pregnant, a state her predecessor had never achieved.
    Freedman and his assistant, Jaimie Scott, kept a vigilant eye on their Special List and found that, far from exhibiting unusual signs of decay, they were remarkably healthy. Using a variety of excuses, Freedman was able to examine many of them thoroughly. In pre-Event days most of the elderly folk had had some defect: Rheumatism, arthritis, varicose veins, and heart conditions were common. Freedman found no worsening of their troubles; in fact, in some cases the conditions had marginally improved.
    The first really interesting evidence came from a younger member of Papa Kilo’s party. Shane de Byl, a pleasant-faced and well-shaped blonde approaching her twenty-first birthday, had now completely recovered from the disastrous love affair which had prompted her to take the tour. She had her two-thousand-dollar government check, and with the expectation of more to come, she believed her big break had arrived.
    The daughter of an old Abderan farming family, she had worked locally as a receptionist before the trip. Quite understandably, that post had been filled during her prolonged absence. But with her check safely banked she turned her mind to far more pleasant thoughts. She would have a winter vacation — learn to ski — meet some of those cute young city guys. Better than being chained to a hotel desk all day.
    Her venture began well enough. She splurged on her outfit, and, heedless of her aunt’s dire warnings, headed for the nearest ski school. Unfortunately, after she’d done deceptively well in the beginners’ class, over confidence led her to try an advanced slope. She ended up with a broken leg.
    Jaimie Scott set the simple fracture. Generally speaking, doctors regard their female patients’ bodies with a detached eye. Often, a body that looks wildly exciting displayed on a dimly lit bed appears very different on an examination couch under cold light. But there can be exceptions.
    Doctors are trained to observe: Jaimie Scott, twenty-eight and unattached, could not help noticing her sensational figure, or the fact that she was a genuine blonde. At no time did he get out of line, but he did tend to make more house calls than were strictly necessary. Freedman, who realized what was going on, smiled slyly below his beaky nose: Jaimie was a good boy, and the de Byl girl — he’d helped her into the world — was a reasonable match. Okay, she’d never win a Nobel Prize, but she was a normal, healthy, good-natured young woman — just what Jaimie needed. He watched with amusement as the lad checked back with him on every detail of her treatment. Then the humor suddenly vanished.
    They had regular evening sessions discussing current cases. Two weeks after the girl’s accident, Scott came into