Sisters

by Laurence Dahners

  “Give it a shot then,” Daussie said, leaning back, “I’m getting a headache.”

  Hareh leaned down and ported some saline from the bottle into the vein. To his embarrassment, he didn’t move much. He tried to port a bigger quantity, but when he did it took a long time before the saline actually jumped to the new location.

  Daussie said, “By how long that second porting took, you’re trying to port a lot for your ability. That always makes you have to push longer before the porting actually happens. You’ll probably do better porting smaller quantities more often, ’cause if you get distracted while you’re waiting for it to transfer, you’ll have to start over.”

  “Oh. Will I ever be able to move as much as you do?”

  She shrugged, “We don’t know. You’re only the second teleporter we’ve had. I’m moving more than I did at first though.”

  “I thought you had another lady come in who could teleport?”

  “That was just a day ago. Besides, she’s old and says she doesn’t want to do it.”

  “Oh.”

  Daussie laughed, “But if you really want to do better, you’re going to have to lean your head down a lot closer, that’ll help a lot.”

  “Oh,” Hareh said a third time, uncomfortable about kneeling with his head down so close to the man’s crotch.

  Daussie laughed again, “Squeamish, are we?” She snorted, “There’s no room for squeamishness if you’re going to be a healer. You’re going to be doing a lot of gross and uncomfortable stuff.”

  Gritting his teeth against his discomfiture, Hareh leaned down until his head was almost touching the man’s groin. She was right, he could transfer quite a bit more fluid, though still not as much as Daussie’d been moving.

  ~~~

  When Eva finished suturing the man’s neck, Daussie and Hareh were still transferring the fourth of five liters of the sterile saline into the man’s vessels. Tarc came back from doing something else and stood watching for a moment. He said, “You used all our saline?”

  Unhappily, Eva said, “Yeah. I’m hoping Daussie can start sterilizing some more while I’m working on these guys.”

  Doubtfully, Tarc said, “Are you planning to pour more of it into this guy who was trying to kill us?”

  Hareh saw the look Eva gave her son. He was glad she wasn’t looking at him that way. She looked down at the man Daussie was moving saline into and sadly said, “If he dies, he’ll be the first person I’ve ever killed.” She tilted her head slightly, “Unless you count people I’ve simply failed to save.”

  Tarc rolled his eyes, “You tripped him while he was trying to kill your family. That’s hardly murder.”

  “I don’t suppose you remember me trying to console you when you first killed somebody?”

  Tarc stared at her for a moment, then let out a big breath, “Yeah, I do. I still don’t like killing people, even when they roundly deserve it.” He hacked out a laugh, “But once I’ve killed them, I don’t waste time or resources trying to bring them back to life.”

  Eva stepped to embrace him, resting her head against the front of the tall young man’s shoulder. “Can you humor me on this one?”

  He awkwardly patted her back, “Sure.” He sighed, “I’ll start building a fire, then I’ll go find some water. We’re going to have to camp here all night.”

  Tarc strode into the brush. Hareh trotted after him. He desperately wanted to tell Tarc he shouldn’t leave the three of them unprotected. Unable to bring himself to do that, he at least wanted to get Tarc back to camp as soon as possible. He said, “How can I help?”

  Tarc looked at Hareh for a moment, then said, “Thanks. Find us some dry wood for the fire. I’ll check the bindings on our captives again, then start working on a fire pit.”

  Hareh’s first thought was how he didn’t want to wander away from the camp looking for firewood. Then he shook his head and sent out his ghirit. Once he’d confirmed there were no threats nearby, he started searching for wood.

  This time he was a lot more diligent about keeping his ghirit out.

  ***

  When Hareh returned with his third bundle of wood, Tarc already had a substantial fire going. He and Daussie were suspending a large steel canister from a tripod, positioning it so it hung over the fire. Hareh stepped closer to look at it. The top of the canister had a solid looking lid clamped on it. “How’re you going to tell what’s going on inside that?” he asked.

  Daussie said, “This’s a pressure cooker. We’ve got our saline bottles inside it. It’s going to heat them hot enough to kill the germs in the saline.”

  Hareh hesitated, then decided he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t ignorant if he wanted to learn. “And germs are…”

  Daussie didn’t snicker. She said, “The little tiny living animals that cause infections. They’re all around us in the world and don’t cause many problems there. It’s when they get inside our bodies that they make us sick.”

  Hareh felt grateful that he already knew what infection was. He moved on to a different question. “How hot do you have to get it to kill the germs? All the way up to boiling?”

  “Hotter than boiling,” Daussie said offhandedly as she poked at the fire. She elaborated before he could ask another question, “We used to just boil things because boiling kills most germs. But some can survive boiling, so Eva was really excited when she found this pressure cooker in an antiquities shop. Of course, then she had to pay even more to get a blacksmith to repair it.”

  “So I assume you heat it until it boils, then heat it a while longer to get it even hotter. But how do you know it’s even gotten hot enough to boil with that lid on it?”

  Daussie looked consideringly at him for a moment. Then she said, “Come on Cousin. How could you tell?”

  “Oh, sorry, with my ghirit.”

  She nodded, but then kept looking at him thoughtfully. He felt embarrassed because he had the distinct impression she was trying to figure out how to dumb an explanation down enough for him to understand it. She spoke slowly, as if feeling her way into a clarification. “Water boils at a hundred degrees centigrade. You can’t get water any hotter than a hundred degrees because any water that gets over a hundred boils away as steam. The pressure cooker has a lid to hold in the pressure from the steam because pressure keeps the water from boiling until the temperature’s higher. With that lid, we can get the water temperature up to the hundred and twenty-one degrees that kills all the germs. That funny bulge on the top holds a spring device that lets off pressure when it gets too high, otherwise, the pressure might get high enough to explode the cooker… blow it up hard enough to seriously injure or kill us.”

  “Ah,” Hareh said as if he fully comprehended. “Thanks for explaining it to me.” Trusting what she said was true, he viewed the pressure cooker with more respect.

  He looked around. Eva was kneeling down, her head almost touching of one of the prisoner’s heads. Is she trying to figure out what he’s thinking? Hareh wondered. Then he remembered she was supposed to be able to change people. Like Kazy changed the gelding. Which was very impressive in its own right. His initial reaction was that she’d be breaking the code of ethics she’d claimed if she changed the men without their permission. But, better changed than dead… I guess… Or, is the original version of you dead once you’re changed? Are you a completely new and different person then?

  He turned to Daussie, “Do you know how she’s changing them?”

  She gave him a questioning look, “With her telepathy.”

  “Yeah, no, I get that. But what’s she trying to do to them? Make them so they can’t fight or something?”

  “I don’t think so,” Daussie said thoughtfully. “Then they wouldn’t be able to protect themselves. But, you’d have to ask her… Can you get more water?”

  ***

  They spent the afternoon fetching water, looking for firewood, sterilizing saline, making dinner, and watching Eva kneel by one outlaw after another. She took a short break af
ter each one to keep from getting a headache, but still looked wan by the time they actually ate their dinner.

  Daussie watched the fire and the pressure cooker while Hareh and Tarc did the fetching. They also went around temporarily untying each man so he could rub his wrists. Either Tarc or Hareh stood by with a machete, looking threatening, while the other one did the untying and re-tying.

  After Eva finished treating each of the men, she had Hareh untie them and leave them that way. Tarc kept an eye on them for a while after they were released but none of them caused any trouble. After a while, Tarc put the ones who’d been released first to digging a grave for the dead archer.

  After a while, Hareh started to worry about how many of the criminals had been freed. Admittedly, they looked a little stunned and hadn’t caused any trouble yet, but they looked fully functional. He got apprehensive that Eva’s treatment might be something she only imagined she was doing. What if these men turn on us once enough of them are free?

  Then he realized two of them were weeping. Uneasy, Hareh indicated the grave of the bowman and asked, “Was he a friend of yours?”

  “Huh?” the tall one said, turning to see where Hareh was pointing. “Oh, no. I hated that bastard.”

  “What’s got you so upset?” Hareh asked suspiciously.

  “Rememberin’…” The tall man cleared his throat and wiped his nose, “Remembering some of the things we done,” he said, speaking as if he had a constriction in his windpipe.

  The shorter man nodded but didn’t speak.

  Hareh looked around at the rest of the men who’d been freed. They look… ashamed, he realized.

  ***

  Eva did her thing with sixteen of the thirty-one men in Vargas’ Raiders, as the highwaymen called themselves. Then they took a break to eat dinner. She’d gone out into the brush to relieve herself, then talked briefly to Daussie. By the time she’d filled her plate, she looked less exhausted.

  She sat down to eat beside Hareh, asking, “How are you holding up?”

  After a moment of self-reflection, Hareh said, “Better than I was doing before we were attacked. For the past few days I’ve been practically frantic with fear, waiting for outlaws to appear and kill us all.”

  She gave him a gentle smile, “Didn’t think our talents could actually protect us, huh?”

  He shook his head, then snorted. “Moving little things by telekinesis or teleportation. Reading people’s minds. Doesn’t seem like much compared to a sword.” He glanced over at the grave, “Even then, we might’ve been in a lot of trouble if Tarc hadn’t been lucky enough to take out the archer before he shot one of us.”

  “You know that was talent too, right?”

  Hareh gave a little laugh, “That was an arrow driven by the power of Tarc’s strong arm.”

  “But that arrow was guided by Tarc’s telekinesis, to a target hidden in the leaves but for Tarc’s ghirit.”

  Hareh’s eyes widened, “Wait. I thought his telekinesis couldn’t exert much force at a distance?”

  “As I understand it, he uses his ghirit to push the arrowhead onto the line he wants and the arrow’s shaft follows. He can push a lot right after it leaves the bowstring. That lets him straighten wild shots. But even at twenty to thirty meters like that shot he just made, he’s still pushing the arrowhead onto line with 10 to 20 grams (0.4-0.7 ounces) of force.”

  “So, he’s really good?”

  “Using his talent he never misses. And he can hit things no one can see, over walls or… hidden in bushes.”

  “So…” Hareh trailed off, trying to get his head around the possibilities.

  “So,” Eva said, waving around at the criminals who—to Hareh’s immense surprise—they were feeding, “Tarc could’ve killed all these men when we were still seventy meters away. That’s what he thought we should do, but he acceded to my request that we try to disable them instead.”

  Doubtfully, Hareh said, “Once he shot a few of them, the others would have been running and hiding.”

  Eva gave a little shrug, “His ghirit’s able to sense people out to about two hundred meters.” She got a speculative look, “His range’s probably farther than that now. So they’d have had to run a long way before they’d have been safe. Probably a few of them would’ve gotten away. The ones who were lucky enough to run along paths that kept too many trees between them and Tarc.” She sighed, “But most of them would’ve died.”

  Looking at the men, Hareh said, “You’ve been changing them without their permission.”

  She nodded, “Kazy and I decided that’s okay when the person’s a danger to themselves or others, as long as several other people agree with that assessment. Kind of like a jury trial.” She looked at him musingly, “You think they need to be changed.”

  He chewed a lip for a moment, “I’d feel better if they were dead.”

  “I thought you were nonviolent?”

  He looked away. “To my shame, it turns out I think violence’s okay when it’s protecting me.” Turning, he looked Eva in the eyes, “I assume your ‘jury’ for going ahead and changing these guys was Tarc and Daussie? I didn’t hear you ask them.”

  “And you,” Eva said, studying him like he was studying her. “I didn’t have to ask you guys because when people are strongly and emotionally excited they broadcast thoughts so loudly I can hardly ignore them.” She shrugged, “I’ll admit, most of the thoughts broadcast by all three of you had to do with how you wanted these people dead.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, “So I compromised. Somewhere between the dead you guys wanted them to be, and the ‘alive-and-unchanged’ they wanted to be, is the ‘alive-but-changed’ I wanted them to be.”

  “What changes are you making? It’s like they’re in mourning.”

  “I think of it as giving them a conscience. Kind of altering their thought processes so they think more about other people and less about themselves.” She shrugged, “Everyone’s somewhere on that axis, but as you can imagine, the kind of people who do what these guys’ve been doing are pretty far to the right—mostly thinking about themselves and not giving a damn about others. I’m not shifting them all the way to the left, just pushing them until they’re a little to the left of the middle.” She looked around at them, “I imagine, now that they care about others, they regret what they’ve done so far in life.”

  “Yeah, a couple of the guys you treated were crying. One said it was because of the things he’d done.”

  Eva nodded, “Every one of Vargas’ men has done some pretty horrific stuff.”

  “Maybe they should be dead then.”

  “Believe it or not, almost all of them have families that depend on them. Killing them would leave their families destitute. Most of their families are afraid of them. I think sending them back rehabilitated is kind of a win-win. The family still has its breadwinner. Neither the family nor the countryside is going to be terrorized anymore.”

  “What if they can’t ‘win bread’ without stealing it from travelers?”

  “They all have other jobs. The stealing business hasn’t been all that great since word got out that this route’s so dangerous. People pretty much only travel this road in heavily guarded caravans nowadays.”

  “But they still keep a lookout for travelers?”

  “Just a kid. They used to keep one of their regular crew out here. Believe me, they were pretty excited to have an unguarded group coming through.”

  “I guess they were wrong about the ‘unguarded’ part…”

  ~~~

  Eva treated the rest of the outlaws after dinner and went to bed exhausted.

  All but three of the men left for their homes that evening. In the morning those three made a travois and dragged away the guy with the neck wound.

  Daussie was beside Hareh as the travois disappeared into the woods. Hareh asked, “Is that guy going to make it?”

  Daussie shook her head, “Doubtful. There’re way too many things that can go wrong. A failed repair, infection, o
rgan failure from blood loss… I don’t think he’s got a chance without Eva watching over him. Probably wouldn’t have a chance even if we did stay here and nurse him.”

  “I’m surprised she doesn’t want to stay here and keep trying to get him through it.”

  Daussie eyed him, “Oh she wants to stay. But, not enough to take a chance she’ll be too late to see your mom.”

  “Does she really have a treatment for cancer?”

  “Yeah. Tarc.”

  “Tarc?”

  “Tarc can kill cancers.”

  Hareh stared at Daussie for a moment, then looked ahead at Tarc, “Really?”

  Daussie nodded, “Good thing for your mom Tarc shot their bowman before the guy shot him, huh?”

  “Eva says he could’ve shot those men from a lot farther away. Why didn’t he take out the bowman before we were close enough to be in his range?”

  “So we could get close enough to disable the rest of those guys instead of Tarc having to kill all of them.”

  “Oh,” Hareh said, suddenly understanding the chances Eva’d been willing to take with the lives of the four of them in order to keep from killing those men. I guess it worked out, but it makes her seem kind of crazy.

  As they mounted up and started on down the road, he couldn’t help but think Daussie didn’t seem all that happy with Eva’s decision-making either.

  Chapter Six

  Without any connections, Argun had been having a hard time finding a job. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d gotten several offers to work as an unskilled laborer. The very idea was insulting; after all, he came from a higher class than the people who were trying to hire him.

  But, he was running low on coin. He’d expected collecting everyone else’s luggage would give him a big cushion against a cash shortage. After all, everyone in their little party of five had been carrying a fair amount of either money or items that could be converted to coin. And, he could’ve sold the gear in their packs and the packs themselves.