“Commander, I don’t know how she knew that the survivor had died, let alone that there were three of them in total, but Lania just opened her eyes and insisted on seeing the corpses of the Thryggians from the crashed ship.” Deneuve’s voice over the comm sounded worried and excited at the same time.
She was right to be concerned, he thought. “You didn’t show them to her, did you?”
“Of course not. Not without your consent, and certainly not without you and Ixbeth being present to provide support. Lania is very determined, though, and she won’t be kept waiting for long. Is the meeting almost over?”
“I think so. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Six pairs of curious eyes watched Dedrick walk through the door of the strategy room and return to his seat at the conference table.
Looking directly at Ixbeth, he said, “Lania’s awake. Somehow she knew we had three Thryggian bodies in cold storage. Now she’s demanding to view them.”
Ixbeth frowned. “And nobody told her about them?”
“According to Doctor Deneuve, who hasn’t left her side since the medical team brought her to the Trauma room, no one else even came near her bed. So either Lania had an out-of-body experience while she was unconscious, or—”
“Well, Captain,” Yorell broke in loudly, “perhaps the child isn’t as fragile as you thought.”
“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But I prefer to make decisions based on facts, not speculation. Odysseus is ready to pilot us to the exact coordinates occupied by the Great Council’s observer ship during the execution of the sentence on the Thryggians. He tells me that we’ll be passing through five space gates and arriving at our destination in approximately twelve days. That should give us sufficient time to iron out the details of our mission once we’ve received Mister Tsieng’s report on the Thryggian craft. Until then, this meeting is adjourned.”
Dedrick waited for Ixbeth to get to her feet. Then he leaned in and said softly, “We’re needed in Med Services.”
She followed him into the corridor and onto the nearest tube car. As the door closed in front of them, Dedrick turned to her and said urgently, “Please, tell me you didn’t—”
“I couldn’t, Commander. Kularians are not telepathic, except with a twin or with a mate. I can project emotion into her, but that’s all.”
He keyed in Medical Services as their destination. “And the Reyota?” he asked as the tube car lurched into sideways motion.
“Telepathy is like a language for them. They can only read the minds of other telepaths. I don’t know much about this out-of-body experience that you refer to, but maybe—”
“No,” he said flatly. “Someone put that information directly into her unconscious mind. If it wasn’t the Kularian helpers and it wasn’t the Reyota, then it had to be a member of the brotherhood. Whoever it was has crossed a line and needs to know it. Lania is a child, effectively my child, and I will protect her by any means necessary,” he concluded, putting emphasis on the last three words.
Ixbeth drew herself up to her full height. “I’ll make sure your message is delivered, Commander, I promise.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. After an uncomfortable few minutes, the door slid open again, depositing them in a corridor just outside the Trauma unit, where Lania and Deneuve stood face to face, deep in conversation.
“Are you absolutely certain about this, chérie?” They were in mid-argument — Deneuve’s voice and expression were both strained. Guessing that the doctor had been stalling until he could arrive, Dedrick hurried over to join them, leaving Ixbeth to trail behind.
The youngster recomposed her expression, her lips forming a hyphen of determination. “Yes, absolutely. I can’t conquer my fear by running away from it.”
“That’s very brave of you, but these alien corpses are not pleasant to look at,” Deneuve pointed out. “They were terribly injured in the crash, and they died slowly.”
“I still want to see all three of them, one at a time.”
“All three?” Dedrick repeated. “Why?”
“Because repetition wears away the sharp edges on our emotions. It takes a lot more than three times to get rid of them completely, but three bodies are all we’ve got, so three times will have to do.” She rhymed this off rapidly, as though reciting a memorized speech.
Someone had put these words into her mouth, most likely the same someone who’d broken into her unconscious mind. Her vulnerable, fifteen-year-old mind. The short hair on the back of Dedrick’s neck came to attention.
“Where are you getting this from, Lania?” he demanded.
Her features contracted. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Oh, really? And who gave you that instruction?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about him either.”
Him?
Feeling Deneuve’s steadying hand on his arm, Dedrick dragged in a deep breath and forced his voice to remain calm. “Why not?”
“He said you would be angry, and I need to deal with one fear at a time.”
And he was right on both counts, Dedrick conceded. Nonetheless…
“What really makes me angry is not getting answers to my questions, Lania. I’m your guardian and I have a right to know who’s been talking to you. Or in this case, thinking to you.”
She pursed her lips briefly. “I don’t know his name. I just know that he’s helping me to be strong and not afraid.”
“I thought we were doing that,” Deneuve remarked softly.
“You are, Doctor,” Lania replied. “You’re doing all you can to support and comfort me, and I’m grateful for it. But support and comfort aren’t as good as a cure. Can I please view the first dead Thryggian now?”
More of his words. Dedrick clenched his jaw. Deneuve threw him a resigned look, then turned and led Lania in the direction of the safelab.
Before Ixbeth could follow them, he stepped around in front of her, blocking her path. Startled turquoise eyes glanced up and met his gaze.
“A moment, Doctor Minegar?” he growled. Confident that he had her full attention, he continued in a low, intense voice, “You made me a promise earlier and I expect you to honor it. It’s obvious to me that one of the brotherhood is inside Lania’s mind. I don’t care how benign his intentions may be — he’s putting himself between me and a child that I’m sworn to defend. You’re a defender too, so I know you understand what dangerous ground he is treading, even if he doesn’t. Find out who this brain rapist is and tell him he’s to get out of her head at once and stay out of it, or I’ll see to it that the entire brotherhood pays for what he’s done. Am I making myself clear?”
“Very clear, Commander,” she replied evenly. “I’ll begin making inquiries immediately.” With that, she turned and stepped awkwardly back to the tube car.
“Where is Ixbeth?” Deneuve asked when Dedrick caught up to her and Lania.
His stomach cartwheeled when he saw the expression on the youngster’s face. It was detached, disinterested — the way people looked when they were watching a vid or idly observing the activities of strangers. That was what they were to her as long as the Kularian intruder was inside her mind — kind, well-meaning strangers.
“Ixbeth had somewhere else to be.”
Deneuve shot him a disapproving look. “Somewhere more important than here?”
There was no safe way to answer that question, so he ignored it, asking instead, “Shall we see whether Lania’s new friend got it right, Doctor?”
—— «» ——
Tal!
Ixbeth? What’s the matter?
You have to talk to the brotherhood. It’s important.
I can’t interrupt them. They’re meditating right now.
Three of them are, perhaps. The fourth is in telepathic contact with Lania Dedrick and her guardian knows it. He’s her defender, and he’s furious.
Telepathic? You’re sure it’s not just a projection of courage?
He’s thinking words to her, Tal, and she is repeating them to others. “Repetition wears away the sharp edges on our emotions.” Does that sound familiar?
Yes. I once quoted it to you.
Humans are extremely protective of their offspring. The brother who is helping Lania needs to understand that Commander Dedrick sees this contact as an attack, a violation of her mind. If it continues, it will turn him against the brotherhood. If that happens, he may influence the captain to believe that they are a greater threat than the Thryggians. The brothers are in danger. You need to warn them.
Perhaps. Perhaps they already know.
What do you mean?
There was no answer.
—— «» ——
Deneuve had been understating when she’d described the appearance of the Thryggian corpses as “not pleasant to look at”. Dedrick had already seen them close up, while removing the survivor from the crashed vessel, and that was quite enough for him, thank you. This time his thoughts were focused on Lania, on how she would react to the sight of their mangled and distorted faces, their broken, twisted limbs. Or just to the fact that these shrink-wrapped remains in the safelab’s cold storage vault had once been living, breathing Thryggians.
He knew Lania was no stranger to death. She and Abner had had to burn and bury numerous plague victims on MF-307. And the brain rapist was right about one thing: repeated exposure to something did dull one’s emotional response to it. But Lania was confronting more than death today. Today she was getting her first actual look at the race whose name alone had been used against her like a weapon for so many years. Today she was coming face to face with the bogeyman.
And, to his shame, part of Dedrick was hoping that it would make her collapse in tears and bury her face in his shoulder.
It didn’t. Lania scanned the body on the pull-out shelf with impersonal eyes for a long moment before remarking, “It isn’t as big as I thought it would be. Do they get smaller after they die?”
“No, this is a full-sized, fully-grown male Thryggian,” Deneuve replied, pointedly adding, “the one who succumbed to his injuries in our Trauma room.”
Lania tilted her head. “They’re not scary at all when they’re dead, are they? They’re kind of fragile, even. I’ll bet I could take this one apart without much effort.”
Deneuve shuddered visibly. Dedrick felt the same mortal chill but managed to keep it inside.
“Not if he were healthy, you couldn’t,” he said. “Why would you even think about that, Lania? Is your new friend suggesting that you find a living Thryggian and pick a fight? Because, as your guardian, I can tell you with certainty that that is not going to happen.”
She frowned. “Of course not. I still have two bodies to look at.”
—— «» ——
Gorse was not in his quarters or at his workbench in Engineering, and the Thryggian ship on the landing deck was still hours away from being ready for his inspection. Ixbeth followed a hunch and went to seek him out in the mess hall. He was there — she sensed his aura the moment she stepped inside the room. Glancing around, she found him sitting at an empty table, trying a serving of the cook’s daily special. Today it was pasta and vegetables in a cheese-flavored sauce. Of course. It was a Fourthday, and Fourthday and Eighthday were meatless meal days aboard the Marco Polo.
Gorse glanced up at her approach and gestured to the seat across from him, inviting her to sit.
“How is it?” she asked as she lowered herself onto the bench.
“Passable. The flavor isn’t unpleasant, and the vegetables are crunchy.” He took another forkful and swallowed it thoughtfully. “But now I’m tasting anxiety,” he remarked, setting his fork down on his plate. “Is there a problem, Docent?”
“Tal has cut me off again.”
“We’ve been through this before. He doesn’t want to be overheard by the Reyota.”
“That’s not it,” she fretted, with an effort preventing her fingerclaws from extending. “We were having a telepathic conversation about one of the brothers and Tal just— There’s a Human expression: he hung up on me. Then, when I went to his quarters to speak with him in person, he refused to see me. None of the others were available either. In fact, it appears you’re the only other Kularian on this ship who’ll have anything to do with me right now. So, you will have to carry my message to the brotherhood.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice almost to a whisper. “I know that you and the senior brother sometimes think to each other. You aren’t litter twins and you aren’t mates. That means that one or both of you must have acquired the talent of bonding at will from studying the Dr’rava Kula’as. Don’t bother denying it. Commander Dedrick has already figured out that the being who has been thinking to his cousin is a member of the brotherhood, and he is extremely angry about it. He demands that this connection with her be permanently severed.”
“If she has accepted the brother’s contact and is thinking back to him, then they are bonded, and bonding is for life. As the litter twin of a scholar, you should already know this, Ixbeth.”
Shaking off Gorse’s words, she tightened her voice, willing him to understand. “Listen to me. This is serious. Humans are limited to five senses, all physical. When I lived among them, my empathic talent was considered to be an intrusion on their emotional privacy. They tolerated it, but only because they knew I couldn’t control it. A telepathic contact is different. It’s not viewed by Humans as involuntary. To them, it’s a deliberate invasion of their minds.
“The commander has made it clear to me that he considers this bonding with his cousin to be a criminal act, and he is prepared to do whatever is necessary to put an end to it. I am well acquainted with this Human, Gorse. He is a defender, and he does not make idle threats. Lania Dedrick needs to be unbonded immediately.”
Frustration. “As I’ve just finished telling you, that’s impossible.”
Ixbeth got to her feet, placed her hands on the table, and leaned across it. “For you, perhaps,” she said softly, “but not for a master of the mental discipline. If psi energy can break an unseen lock on the other side of a door, if it can reach through two minds and remotely operate a heavy ship from light years away, then dissolving an unwanted bond should be an easy task. And I’m guessing that that is something you should already know. Am I correct?”
Surprise, followed by resignation. “Sit down, Ixbeth, please.” He waited for her to resume her seat, then told her, “You know I can’t answer that question.”
“You don’t have to. I’ve seen what you can do, Gorse, and so have Yorell and D’Ull. Did you ever wonder why Avo’or called on a Reyot scholar to uncover the ancient ship that made possible the fulfillment of the prophecy? I’ve been thinking about that. It has also crossed my mind more than once lately that she wouldn’t be much of a prime docent if she didn’t have her own copy of the forbidden book to go with the forbidden files in the Central Archives.”
He frowned. “Are you suggesting that the Prime Docent is actually a student of the Dr’rava Kula’as?”
“Not a student, exactly. I very much doubt whether she is doing it to improve her own mental discipline. What I suspect is that she has been attempting to decode the book in order to learn what a trained Kularian mind is actually capable of. Last year I dreamed that I was at an ohe’elu ceremony with my litter twin, and he said something in this dream that has only recently begun making sense to me: ‘What we have are selfish neighbors.’ Kula’as and Reyi’it occupy neighboring orbits. I think Councilor Enne is trying to determine how much of a threat Kularians pose to the security of her home world.”
His expression hardened. “And if word reached the Reyota that one of the brotherhood had bonded with a child against the wishes of her defender…”
“…it would provide justification for whatever D’Ull is planning to do to them — and to the rest of us — once the mission is concluded. Now do you understand why it’s in everyone’s best interests to give the commander what he wants, as quickly as possible?”
Gorse digested this for a moment, then replied, “I don’t have the authority to dictate to the brotherhood, but I’ll do my best to convey the urgency of your request.”
“I know you will,” she assured him, and turned away from the table.
Just inside the mess hall door, she saw Dallia coming toward her with a smile on her face. “Ixbeth! The brotherhood wanted me to thank you for bringing them the fruit and melons from Dimmla—”
This was too much.
“I didn’t do it for them, Mother,” Ixbeth informed her coldly, then swept past her without another word.
—— «» ——
Summoned to the strategy room, Dedrick arrived to find Takamura already in conversation with Watch Commander Leslie Eberhart.
She glanced up as he walked through the door. Immediately, she tensed and turned away, directing her gaze to the polished surface of the conference table. Her blond hair was pulled away from her face and fastened at the crown of her head with the mother of pearl clip he’d given her a couple of years earlier for her birthday. For a moment his heart swelled with hope. She was wearing his gift, so she couldn’t be that angry. Then he saw her expression — an impassive mask with eyes like smoky blue stones — and realized that yes, she could.
Dedrick sighed inwardly, wishing he’d never taken her into his confidence about the reason for his trip to Riviera Hub. That had apparently been his second strike. His first, the one that had chilled the air between them until he could practically see his breath, had been not letting her know that he had changed his mind about helping her brother Sam. But at least she hadn’t frozen him out completely, the way she was doing now.
Once upon a time, they’d been lovers. Now? Let her in or keep her out — either way he was wrong, it seemed. This relationship business was tricky.
“Have a seat, Commander Dedrick,” said Takamura, indicating the chair directly facing Eberhart’s.
As Gael lowered himself onto it, Leslie finally acknowledged him with a brief, icy stare. It triggered an equally cold response in the pit of his stomach.
“I’ve called you both here because we need to agree on a cover story to tell the crew,” the captain explained. “They can’t be allowed to know the true nature of our mission. With all the secretive aliens we have aboard, there is already a great deal of speculation circulating that we may need to quash. Commanders, I am open to your suggestions.”
Takamura leaned back in his chair, his gaze swinging expectantly between the faces of his two senior officers. He was far too intelligent not to have noticed that they weren’t getting along. The captain was a patient man, Dedrick knew, but he had no tolerance for divisiveness. This conflict was recent. If it persisted, he would take action to end it, and his decision might not be to their liking.
Eberhart was the first to speak. “Our original story — that we were taking Doctor Minegar home for a reunion with her family — was simple and convincing, and from what I’ve gathered, most of the crew still believe it. There will always be a few skeptics in the crowd. Nothing we can do about that. So, I would recommend that we ignore the doubters and build on the credibility of the existing story using undeniable facts.”
“Build on it how, Commander?” said Takamura.
“Fact: no one was expecting the kind of severe weather that the landing party encountered on Altera, including Doctor Minegar, and we know from our biofiles that she lived there for five years. Obviously, something cataclysmic is happening to this planet. It makes perfect sense that you would evacuate the remaining population.
“Fact: we already know that Human emotions give Kularian empaths terrible headaches. Doctor Minegar used to take refuge from them by sequestering herself in her quarters. Why wouldn’t these fifteen new passengers do the same?”
“I see where you’re going with this.” And Dedrick continued, picking up where she’d left off, “Fact: our arrival at Ixbeth’s birth world coincided with a Dimmlesi crisis. Since we had the wherewithal to help, how could we in good conscience withhold our assistance? Fact: the crashed ship and the bodies of its crew need to be returned to Thrygg. That is where we’re now headed. It leaves out half the story, but it provides a plausible explanation for everything we’ll have done before we go back to Kula’as.”
“It also paints us in a very favorable light,” Takamura remarked. “I’m sure Earth High Council and Fleet Control cannot object to anything that might earn Humanity a bit of good will from the aliens we encounter on this voyage. Nonetheless, I am not entirely comfortable about lying to the crew in a formal announcement, even if it does contain a grain of truth. There must be some unofficial way to disseminate the necessary information.”
“There is, sir,” Dedrick told him. “Leslie and I can arrange to have a discussion within earshot of some of the crew. We drop a few factual details, then let the rumor mill do its work. Word will spread quickly throughout the ship. Later, when we return to Earth space, you can decide whether and how to set the record straight.”
“Very well,” said Takamura with evident satisfaction. “Commander Eberhart, Commander Dedrick, you know what you must do next. And I need to be on the bridge. Good luck to you both.” With that, the captain got up and left.
“Commander Eberhart,” said Dedrick stiffly, “I believe that’s our cue. Shall we go to the mess hall for a hot drink and a chat?”
“Is that an order, sir? You do outrank me by seniority.”
He drew in and let out a breath. “Does it have to be an order?”
Her chin rose, her expression issuing a challenge. “I’m afraid so, sir.”
“Then it’s an order,” he said, trying and failing to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach. Regardless of her personal inclinations, Leslie could always be counted on to do what was required of her. So could Dedrick. But something told him that neither one of them was going to enjoy this cup of java.
—— «» ——
Lania flopped down onto her bed and stared upward, into the dark. She’d purposely left the lights off inside her sleeping module. Being surrounded by blackness made it easier for her to picture her friend in her mind’s eye, to pretend that he was in the room with her, not just inside her head.
She’d asked him to show her what he looked like, but he’d refused. So, she’d imagined a blank canvas and mentally drawn a face he might wear. When he laughed at it, she erased it and tried again. And again. Finally she produced an image that he approved of. This was the visage that she now projected into the darkness of her bedroom, an adult’s face with round, ruddy cheeks and blue eyes sparkling with mischief, under a wild mop of curly brown hair.
Drovanu? she thought to him, using the word that he’d told her meant “my friend” in his own language.
I am here, Lania. You are well?
I am. I did what you told me. I looked at all three of them and pretended they were burned bodies pulled out of a pyre on Dedrick’s Planet. I remembered how those bodies looked as though they’d never been alive, and I remembered how I felt inside when I saw them. And when I looked at the Thryggians, I made myself feel the same way. And it worked. I wasn’t afraid.
Excellent! Now you have a weapon to use the next time fear tries to take you over.
And you’re going to help me then too, right?
I’ve already helped you as much as I can. Now you need to help yourself. Anytime you are afraid, remember how you felt as you gazed upon the three dead bodies. Command that feeling to fill you up. It will free your mind from the fear, allowing you to do whatever you must in that moment.
But you said you would always be with me. You promised!
If you truly need my help, just imagine my face and think to me, and I will answer. But freedom means living your own life, making your own choices, taking your own risks, and solving your own problems as best you can. You have sacrificed a lot to win your freedom. Never give it away to anyone. Especially not to one like me.