I realized I had to do something fairly horror-y, and that might actually get the book in proper shape. Here’s hoping!
“He’s not doing well, is he?” I asked Gina quietly.
She looked back at Syah, who was sitting up in the bed. He had a handheld in his good hand, and was trying not to scowl at it. “He’s healing,” she allowed. “Just not as quickly as he should be. There’s some kind of resistance going on, in his head. I don’t think Syah’s giving himself full permission to get better.”
“Wait. Why wouldn’t he do that, Gina? Everybody knows you can’t let yourself get in the way of your own body.”
Gina quirked one side of her mouth. “Why do you think, Pam? It’s guilt. Heck, even the readouts say so. Poor bastard probably blames himself for [Spoiler].”
I looked at Syah myself. There was a tension there, uncomfortable and unspoken. I sighed. “I want to say that’s ridiculous, but it’s not, is it? Dammit, he stuck his arm down in the middle of live circuitry to sequester the sabotage. What was he supposed to do, use both hands?”
“He probably thinks so. Yes,” she went on before I could interrupt, “that’s stupid of him. You’d be amazed how stupid smart people can be, when it comes to second-guessing themselves.”
“Okay,” I managed, after a minute. “Can I do anything for him?”
“Sure. Tell him to get up, stop feeling sorry for himself, and walk it off.” I blinked at Gina, and she laughed. “What do you think this is, the Dark Ages? You can’t talk a mental block to death. Besides, the crystals don’t lie, Pam. They say he’s just in a funk, and they’re right. I’ve tried to tell him that, but maybe he’ll listen to you. I figure its worth a shot.”