Warrior Spirit

by Laura Kaighn

  With a shrug, Sheradon attested, “That’s what life’s all about.” The doctor prepped the machine, and soon Dorinda was sitting cross-legged on the lowered platform, monitoring pads attached to her forehead, temples, crown, and the nape of her neck. “These’ll monitor your brain activity and together will pinpoint the central nerves used during your meditation. Immediately afterward, I’ll ask you to describe everything you saw, so try to hold onto those images. OK?”

  Nodding once, Dorinda closed her eyes and began the ritual of slowing her breathing and clearing her mind. Time passage vanished, and she was soon reliving her visions of the late morning. Breathless and weary, Dorinda then described the scenes to Sheradon who recorded the woman’s every word.

  Grimly Dr. Sheradon considered Dorinda’s story. “I’d say we either need to increase security on this mission,” Yolonda decided, “or classify you as paranoid.” She fell silent as she analyzed the translation from the cognitive imaging scanner. “Dorinda, your cerebral cortex is highly active during meditation. I was monitoring your blood pressure and breathing. You did everything right. These images of yours must be premonitions. Probable future events.”

  “Probable?” Dorinda rose from the platform and stretched with a groan.

  “Well, until we test their accuracy in actual time, your visions are really no more than possible scenarios, a few alphabet variables in a relative soup of time events.”

  Nodding, Dorinda understood enough to say, “Stir the soup and the letters mix, perhaps making words. Stir it again, and you may just have a jumble of letters. Nothing.”

  “Right. At the moment, I wouldn’t be too concerned. Bear knows what he’s doing. And Vesarius knows the Orthops better than anyone onboard. Precautions are standard procedure.”

  Smiling tiredly, Dorinda rubbed the back of her neck then tugged off the monitor pads from her face and head. “I’m glad I came to see you, Lonnie. I think I can sleep now. I was really starting to believe there was something wrong with me.”

  “Nothing wrong, Dori, just wonderfully special. If these readings are any indication, I’d say we have a budding PSY on our hands.” Sheradon finished disengaging her cognitive imaging scanner. “Come by in the morning, and I’ll run a PSY rating scan on you. Then you can tell Coty the good news. He’ll be pleased.”

  With a thank you and a tired sigh, Dorinda headed for the door followed by a yawning Noah. It was well past the otter’s bedtime.

  “Good night, you two,” Sheradon called after them as Dorinda left her to shut down the CIS.

  * * *

  When Vesarius came by to check on Dorinda after his second shift that evening, she was not in her cabin. He frowned deeply, puzzled. There was something important he must discuss with her. But his door chime had remained unanswered. Noah had asked for a swim. Perhaps the two were taking a late night dip.

  Striding back down the hall, Vesarius reviewed Dorinda’s earlier words. She had been upset at first. Her meditation had brought to light a disturbing scenario. Soon the two would be separated; Vesarius would be in danger. Then, during her second attempt at meditation, Dorinda had warned him about Coty. He was going to leave Coty to die. “Impossible,” Vesarius growled annoyed that Dorinda could even imagine such a situation. Coty was his friend, his captain, his star brother. Nearly a decade before, Michael Bear Coty had been the only human who had openly offered the disgraced Vesar his friendship and trust. Vesarius would die before allowing Coty to suffer any injury, least of all at the foreclaws of Orthops who ate their prey alive in great torn chunks.

  Dorinda was worrying herself and doubting him. She was starting to consider Vesarius incapable. Even as she reassured, she doubted. Vesarius felt his face flash fire, suddenly conscious that his footfalls along the corridor were weighted with displeasure.

  Marching into the Pompeii’s pool facilities, the Vesar froze. Dorinda wasn’t there. He stood, fists clenched, eyes stone pits of ire in an empty room. The heat drained from his cheeks as he contemplated the alternatives. Anger abated, Vesarius thought of the library. Dorinda had spent much time there lately. Then there was the arboretum, Yuri Matsumoto’s hydroponics lab, the galley. Next Vesarius’ brows furrowed. Or Coty’s quarters. The furnace of his Vesar heart fired his cheeks again.

  Coty had retired for the night over an hour ago, leaving Vesarius to finish his watch in command, and receive the encoded transmission he’d awaited from Vesar Prime. Had Dorinda gone to visit the captain knowing Vesarius was still on the bridge? A hollow voice warned him of his presumption, but his warrior heart pumped him with Fury. Spinning on his heels, Vesarius strode from the recreation facilities, heading for level two and his captain’s quarters.

  As he stomped to a halt outside Coty’s door, icy doubt tickled his spine. Coty would not do this. The captain knew of the pledge, knew of the bracelet Vesarius had presented Dorinda in the wilderness. Vesarius recalled the quiet solitude of the Adirondack lake with its osprey guardian, Dorinda’s totem spirit. The bracelet was Navajo, sculpted by hand in the form of silver feathers and sky blue turquoise. Its meaning was dual: a symbol of the osprey’s strength and vision, and a pledge of Vesarius’ devotion, his love for his human mate Dorinda.

  Abruptly, Vesarius couldn’t advance further. He wouldn’t touch the door chime, wouldn’t disturb his captain. A cooling chill caused him to shiver, and the Vesar retreated to the lift and his own cabin one floor down.

  He was a fool to question her. Dorinda had said she would be patient. She had said she respected his decision. Their love must be kept secret until the right time, until the Vesar Council restored his citizenship. Regrettably, that would now only happen after the Orthop peace talks were complete, only following the gravest of Vesar tests.

  Vesarius frowned at the prospect. The Vesar Council’s answer had finally come. He had requested the procedures in reversing a lapse in duty, a break in tradition nearly a decade old. Vesarius had left his parents’ homestead to travel the stars. He had thus left his matriarch unprotected. A human mercenary – a pirate named Gideon San Tanoki – had later seized that lapse in duty to smuggle valuable zircontian crystal from Vesahran-dani, Vesarius’ birth world. Both his father and mother had been left to die in a fume-infested mineshaft on the border of the Tankawankanyi homestead.

  Off on duty with his ship, the Pvokx, Vesarius had not returned in time to save them. He had not been there – as was his duty – to prevent his former mentor and friend, Tanoki, from murdering his only family. Vesarius had thus been dishonored, dismissed from Vesar society. Forgotten.

  During his recent trip to Earth, his father’s spirit had forgiven him his breach in protocol, restoring the warrior’s honor. Yet, it seemed, the Vesar government still considered him an outcast, a Grilcmzáe.

  Since the murders, Vesarius had been unwelcome on any Vesar colony world including Vesahran-dani. As a result of his misdeeds, the homestead of Tankawankanyi was now property of the state, the responsibility of his mother’s kin. The warrior’s only family and the wealth of the Tankawankanyi mines had been ripped from him in an instant of Tanoki’s greed and Vesarius’ neglect.

  Now Vesarius had regained his honor but not his birthright. He was still a warrior displaced, a misfit of tradition. Only one test could restore his citizenship, the Vesar Council had agreed. Only one deed would correct his past negligence. Frowning, Vesarius marched into his quarters and flopped onto his bed. He must succeed, or he was dead ... and so was Dorinda.

  Tundra sniffed him reassuringly then settled back down to sleep. But the malamute’s Bondmate could not close his mind to the journey he and Dorinda must soon undertake. He had to make sure she was ready. He must teach her all that he knew, for her own survival and the very peace of his soul. If he instead refused this test, upon his death, Vesarius’ spirit would float within a Vesar hell of emptiness. His death would be devoid of honor or purpose – lost in the depths of an eternity lacking in light or wisdom.

  Chilled by his thoughts, Vesari
us shivered in the darkness of his cabin. Alone in his mind, obsidian gaze unfocused to his surroundings, the warrior lived that hell before his exhausted consciousness finally gave out sometime before the Pompeii’s artificial dawn.

  When Tundra shoved him awake a few hours later, Vesarius’ mood was dismal and brooding, his mind hardly rested for the tasks ahead. Groaning, he realized his mission orders would come today. He rose to undress and shower. Dorinda would be expecting another search and rescue lesson after breakfast, and he had promised to meet her at her cabin. Perhaps the Vesar could inquire about last night’s absence.

  No. If Dorinda needed to tell him, she would. He must trust her.

  His shower complete, Vesarius drew on his cleaned leather sandsuit and untangled the totem stone fringes of his family medallion before braiding his wet, raven hair. Tundra yipped his impatience from the door as Vesarius tied the back lacings of his boots. He shoved himself from his chair. “You must not let your stomach do the thinking for you, my friend,” he warned the Alaskan malamute. “It often leads you to a baited trap or poisoned carcass.”

  Groaning his disapproval and the nonexistence of such dangers onboard the Pompeii, Tundra led his Bondmate out the door and up the corridor to Dorinda’s cabin. Stifling a yawn, Vesarius pressed the thumb-sized door chime and waited. A minute passed, and his inner voice told him Dorinda was not inside.

  But she had to be. He had told her he would meet her here. Had she even been in her quarters last night? Vesarius pressed his reproachful demons back into their dim corner. Dorinda had simply awakened earlier and gone for that swim with Noah.

  “Tundra, check the galley. I will go to the pool.” Splitting from his Kin, Vesarius strode into the Pompeii’s recreational facilities a few minutes later. The community pool was busy with several morning swimmers. Even the elderly Yuri Matsumoto and his otter Kin Kite were enjoying the coolness of the water. Vesarius approached the ship’s horticulturalist. “Has Dorinda been here? I am to give her another lesson after breakfast.”

  The silver-streaked, bobbing head of the floating Asian shook. “Haven’t seen Jade since yesterday, Commander. She came by the hydroponics lab to check on her bonsai. She’s growing a Serissa from seed, you know. She’ll make a wonderful mother someday.”

  Frowning at the change of subject, Vesarius nodded his thanks. “Please tell Jade I will be in the arboretum if you see her.” He then spun around ignoring the curious stares of fellow swimmers and strode back into the corridor. Through an inquiring image, he checked Tundra’s status. It seemed Dorinda Jade was not in the galley either. Vesarius would try the arboretum.

  * * *

  “Well?” Dorinda asked peeking past Dr. Sheradon’s shoulder at the PSY readout. “Did I pass?” Her curiosity could hardly be contained, and she swung her legs at the edge of the medical bed. From the floor, Noah trilled his expectation, bopping his rounded head against her dangling shoe.

  Yolonda Sheradon spun on her, eyes wide. “I don’t know what triggered this, since you swear you’ve had only occasional premonitions, but your PSY rating’s a five point two.” The doctor pointed to the medical screen. “What’s better, there’re indications that with training your abilities may increase. Your PSY rating could reach close to eight or nine, near the human limitations of telepathy.” Sheradon grinned in amazement. “Yeah, I say you passed.”

  “How can this be possible? My dad wasn’t psychic.”

  “He never told you everything, I think.” Sheradon poked a few tabs and the machine spat out a paper copy of the test results. “Psychic ability is inherited, Dorinda. Your father undoubtedly kept his talents under the rug. He avoided drawing extra attention and criticism from a society that wouldn’t have accepted or taken those gifts seriously.”

  Dorinda sighed still incredulous. She smacked the bed with her palms. “Now what do I do, Lonnie? I’ve been given a talent I can’t handle. I think I could more easily accept an extra hand or another time jump.”

  “I can help you there,” Yolonda countered with obvious enthusiasm. Paper in hand, she crossed her arms and faced her patient. “I’ll match you up with our resident PSY instructor. He’ll get you started on some control techniques.” Yolonda jerked her chin at Dorinda. “He’ll help you tap your talent. To use it when you want, and shut it off when you don’t.”

  “Anybody I know?” Dorinda asked, intrigued. She slid from the diagnostic platform to stand beside her otter Kin. Noah conveniently propped his head for a congenial stroke.

  “I’d say so,” Yolonda quipped with a teasing grin. “He’s a practicing empath, though he doesn’t advertise. It’s one of the reasons he refuses to take another Kin Companion. When he lost Achilles in a hover crash, he was too grieved to -”

  “Michael?” Dorinda blurted in sudden realization. “Michael’s an empath?” Dorinda slapped the platform again. “That explains his perceptiveness, why he’s always able to know my feelings.”

  Sheradon was nodding. “Coty doesn’t let his talent rule him. That’s why he’s such a good instructor. He has to contain his perceptiveness if he’s to function as captain of the Pompeii, responsible for over sixty lives.”

  “When can we start?” Dorinda spouted rolling onto her toes and clapping her hands.

  Leaning back against the medical bed, Sheradon shrugged good-humoredly. “Do you want to break the news or do you want me to? You’ll get to be the pupil instead of the teacher. Can you handle that?”

  Now Dorinda shrugged. “Lately I’ve had a lot of practice as a student. And Michael’s a good teacher.” She grinned widely in pride. “Someday I’ll have to take you on a hover ride.” Dorinda took the paper printout from Sheradon’s hand. “Do I just show him this?”

  Nodding, Sheradon agreed, “If you want him to take you seriously. Otherwise he’ll think Vesarius sent you on a practical joke.”

  “Vesarius!” Dorinda gasped and checked her wrist chrono. “I was supposed to meet him for breakfast.” With printout in hand, she started for the door.

  “Send Noah to tell him where you are,” Sheradon called halting Dorinda’s and the otter’s retreat. “Coty must know about this.”

  “But Vesarius should know too. He’s ...” Dorinda stopped herself. Sheradon didn’t know about the pledge. “He’s my teacher too. He’s my friend.”

  “You’re a member of this crew now. Coty should be told first. He’s your captain.”

  Sighing, Dorinda had to agree. She didn’t much like chain-of-command politics, but she had lived by them all her working life. Michael understood her reservations but would approve of her bowing to Alliance protocols. It was another indication of Dorinda’s adaptability, her willingness to belong. And compliance was essential if she was to be granted her citizenship papers. A woman out of time was not guaranteed a permanent home unless she could follow proper channels. Major General Chan had told her so himself.

  “I’ll take your suggestion.” Dorinda turned to Noah, giving him her picture commands. With a chitter of understanding, the otter Kinpanion pivoted on stubby legs and bounced out of the med center.

  When Dorinda, too, turned to leave, Sheradon interrupted again, this time with an expectant smile. “Congratulations, Dori. I wish you the best with this, yet another gift from Brahmanii Sule.” With a gasp of hopeful excitement, Dorinda hugged Yolonda quickly, muttered a thank you, and rushed from the room to seek her captain and friend.

  * * *

  Vesarius found it hard to concentrate on the darkness behind his eyes. He kept thinking of the lapse of time. Where was she? Tundra was out looking for her while he waited, seated upon the grass, legs folded in attempted calm. Then the arboretum doors behind him hummed open. Someone had entered. But it was not Dorinda. The closeness and number of flopping footfalls told the Vesar’s sensitive ears his messenger had arrived.

  “Where is she, Noah?” he asked without glancing over his shoulder at the approaching Kin. Sidling up beside him, the otter stared intently at the Vesar. Noah present
ed the fuzzy but recognizable image of a bronze, angular face framed in wavy black locks. “With Coty?”

  Lurching vertical in one great shove, Vesarius was on his feet a second later. He disregarded the otter’s squeal of alarm and strode through the trees. In the corridor, the Vesar dodged a near collision with several crewmembers who froze at his sudden appearance. Those eyes followed him, mouths mumbling expletives of agitation. Vesarius ignored them. His mind was too jumbled with conflicting, riotous thoughts.

  * * *

  Dorinda watched expectantly as Coty’s dark eyes expanded. He studied the paper she had brought to his cabin. Smiling, she waited for the captain to find his voice. “This ... this is yours? How can ... Dori,” Coty blurted his gaze finally breaking from the printout. “You’re a PSY?”

  Dorinda could only shrug. “I guess I am.”

  “When ... I mean, how long have you known? Why didn’t you tell me before now?”

  “Because I’ve only been sure for about six minutes longer than you, Michael. Only since yesterday have I even guessed.”

  “But PSY ability doesn’t just happen. What triggered this?”

  Again Dorinda lurched her shoulders. “Vesarius was teaching me how to meditate. I’ve never done it before.”

  “Then the meditative state must conduct the proper brainwave sequences needed to tap your talent.” Coty squinted to the printout. “This shows you’re clairvoyant, able to predict events. I’ve never worked with a clairvoyant.”

  “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

  Coty’s full mouth froze between a smile and a frown. “Help you?” He lowered the paper and wrapped his free hand around Dorinda’s arm. “I’d sooner jump ship than refuse.” Pulling her close, Michael Coty pressed his lips warmly against hers.

  Smiling at the gesture, Dorinda leaned into him with a grateful embrace. She could think of no one she’d rather have assist her with this new talent.