Alawahea

by Sara L Daigle

  “So you’re willing to help?”

  “She’s very likely psi of some type, so yes. If there’s any chance she has Azellian genetics, then I have to.” He sighed and massaged between his eyes. “Can you give me some basics on Awakening protocol and psi training? I’m thinking it might be helpful if I’m going to play a part. Just to cover all the bases, even if she’s human. Human psi might not work the way ours does, but having a little bit of training is better than nothing.”

  “Certainly,” Greg replied. “You want some background too, Alari?”

  “I’d better. I might have a Healer sister who’s shown me quite a bit, but it never hurts to get some training from another Healer, and I’m curious, too. I’d like to help.”

  Greg glanced at the clock on the wall. “Now?”

  Merran nodded. “We might as well take the next hour before the party starts. Otherwise, I won’t have any spare time until later next week.”

  “You’ve got it. Open your minds and let me guide you.”

  Both young men complied and their training began.

  Not far from the embassy, Tamara sat in her family’s kitchen, wrapping her hands around an empty mug that had once contained tea. It had taken her almost an hour to calm herself down after that rather embarrassing experience with Justern, but now she was once again feeling relaxed. It helped to see her mother. “What did they say, Mom?”

  Jeanine shrugged and sipped her tea, wincing as she did so. “We won’t know anything for a week or so.”

  “Do you want me to stay home? There’s a new student welcoming party tonight at … at school and I was invited. But I can stay home and help out instead.”

  Peter was standing behind his wife with his hands on the back of her chair. He shook his head. “No, go, Tammy. You don’t need to stick around here. We’ll be all right. You can’t suspend your life, and we don’t know anything yet.”

  Jeanine reached out and touched Tamara’s hand as she stood to leave. “Tammy, please make me a promise.”

  “What Mom?”

  “Promise me that no matter what happens to me, you will finish school and get a career. I don’t care what you choose, but I don’t want me to interfere with your plans for the future, whatever they might be.” Jeanine looked like she was fighting to hold back tears.

  Tamara swallowed around a suddenly thick throat. “Don’t talk like that, Mom.”

  “Well, promise me, Tamara.”

  “I promise, Mom.” Tamara said finally, as tears burned at the back of her throat and eyes. She wanted to say more but was afraid of breaking down, so she fled.

  Fortunately, she did not run into Andreya on her way to her room. When she broke down, she was able to be alone.

  Again, it took her a bit of time to get composed, but when she came out of her room her eyes were clear, all signs of her crying gone. She kissed her parents goodbye and told them not to wait up for her, as she might sleep on campus. Feeling more at ease, she then left the house.

  The embassy was not far from her parents’ home, but the streets did not directly get her there. By the time she pulled up to the ornate gates, she had managed to work herself into a case of nerves.

  The gates opened as she pulled up and a man—very likely an Azellian, although he wasn’t dressed any differently than any other Denverite—came up to the car. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here for the welcome party,” Tamara replied. “Where do I go?” She thought she heard a murmur, but the man’s lips did not move as he watched the pad in front of him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  With one eyebrow raised, the man focused on Tamara. His dark brown eyes, which were almost black, matched his dark hair. Because of his olive complexion, he could have passed for Mediterranean. “You may go up to the main lobby, Ms. Carrington. They are expecting you.”

  Tamara caught a glimpse of the pad as she drove in. It was blank. How had he known who she was? And how had he known that she could enter? An uneasy feeling crawled down her spine, but she ignored it, pulling her car through the gates. They closed smoothly behind her. She parked the car along the side of the curved drive and got out, walking along the edge of the pavement.

  Her nerves increased as she came to the front of the huge mansion that served as the embassy. Much to her surprise, no one accosted her or did anything overt regarding security. She would have expected at least a metal detector, but maybe they weren’t worried about terrorism. She walked up to the front doors.

  The massive doors opened smoothly at her approach. She couldn’t suppress a shiver, wondering suddenly if they had used a sensor, then berated herself. Of course there’s a sensor. How else would the doors open?

  The noise level from the party stopped her at the door. People stood in clusters and thronged the lobby entrance of the embassy. She halted just inside the doorway, blinking in confusion. It certainly sounded like thousands of people had been invited. The low murmur of voices swelled around her, making her dizzy, overwhelmed, and a little sick.

  “Ah, Tamara,” a voice greeted her smoothly. “Welcome to our little gathering.” It was the ambassador, his hair pulled back and tied loosely at his neck. The sense of a thousand voices retreated and Tamara was able to catch her breath. The ambassador bowed to her, smiling warmly. She returned the bow, using one that her grandfather had taught her.

  The ambassador looked surprised, but his smile widened. “I’m impressed. That was just the right response.”

  “Grandpa taught me a few of the most common bows before he died. I don’t understand nearly all the nuances, though,” Tamara admitted somewhat shyly. “How many people are here? I didn’t think there were this many students on campus yet.”

  “Oh, this is mostly embassy workers and a few diplomatic humans. Maybe a hundred people,” the ambassador replied, standing aside to let her pass in front of him. His arm came up to guide her, but he did not touch her as she thought he might. “Come, let me introduce you to the Azellian students formally. I know you saw them earlier, but we didn’t have time to properly introduce them.” Tamara passed in front of him. She thought she felt his hand brush her side as she passed. Someone laughed loudly beside her, cutting through the oddly muted sounds around her, and she flinched.

  Unbeknownst to Tamara, as Merran guided her through the throng of people, he carefully kept a shield around her and himself. Greg! He called the Healer through his intimate level, reasonably sure Tamara could not hear it.

  Merran? Greg’s response came within seconds.

  Where in hell are you? Tamara’s here and she’s wide open. Projecting like a son of a bitch, too. Mostly terror.

  I’m trying to get Justern calmed down. It seems he’s having an attack of something. Nerves or what, I don’t know. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Then, after a moment had passed, Are you shielding her?

  What do you think? Merran snapped. I’m just letting her project at everyone here? Do you know how many telepaths are here today? Damn, she’s strong.

  The ambassador seemed oddly quiet as they walked through the room. Tamara got the strong impression he was distracted by something, although she couldn’t tell what. “Is everything all right?” she asked him.

  “Everything’s fine,” the ambassador said with a somewhat strained smile. “I am a little surprised at the number of people who’ve shown up tonight. I need to be more of a host than I thought I’d have to be. But then,” he smiled and it seemed normal, as normal as she had seen up until now anyway, “that’s what I do. And what I get when almost everyone accepts your invitation.” He shrugged gracefully. “Of course, I will definitely limit the invite list when I ask the human students here to get used to Azellians.”

  Tamara laughed as she tried to relax and control her fear. The laughter helped. The ambassador gave her a look, one she could not interpret. In a flash, she became aware of a slight musky, spicy scent. A rather nice smell, she thought, breathing it in. He was wearing a robe, a very unusual garment for Earth, but it
looked quite comfortable and appropriate for him. The robe outlined his wide shoulders, tapering to his narrow waist, and was cinctured by a wide, ornate belt. His body shape was not so much different than the redhead’s she’d seen earlier, although Merran wasn’t as lean. She wondered suddenly if he was wearing anything under the robe.

  Merran closed his eyes briefly as a new sensation spread over him. She was still wide open, although patchy shields had appeared. The question that flew across her mind was not simply there for him to read—it was projected at him, followed by a powerful wallop of good old desire. Although he already knew she found him attractive, his own response took him completely by surprise. His body resonated with the vibration of sexual interest, strong enough to send him into immediate overdrive. He was not going to be able to shield her and control his physical reaction at the same time. Greg! He let the panic in his mind tone show. Get in here!

  The response was from Alarin. Greg’s on his way. I’m here, though. Do you want help?

  You can’t help her, Merran flashed back. Not while she’s open like this. You’ll end up in the same boat I am.

  Let the shield go. I’ve got it. Alarin told him, walking up to them. She’s just projecting at the moment. I don’t think she’s particularly sensitive right now.

  Damn, she’s strong. Whatever the hell she is, she’s got enough power behind her projection to be a Corina, Merran managed to say through his discomfort.

  For a moment, Alarin was silent. He sought to reach that part of her mind accessible behind the patchy shielding. She certainly could be a projecting empath like you, if she can project her emotions out strongly enough to knock you off balance. You can usually roll with emotions that come in, except when someone equally strong projects them at you. If she were Azellian, I’d say she is for sure, but as I didn’t even know humans had psi until a few hours ago, it might very well be something else. I don’t think your reaction was entirely due to her projection, though. Find her attractive, do you?

  Merran’s response was a low mental growl. He concentrated on draining the blood that filled him by opening the capillaries. He projected at Alarin just a hint of the pain caused by the forced draining of his erection. Alarin winced and shut up.

  When Merran could speak again, he turned to Tamara. “Alarin, I’d like you to meet Tamara Carrington. Tamara, this is Alarin Raderth.” Tamara recognized Alarin as the redhead that had come into the office earlier that day. “Now, as I have other duties to attend to, I’m going to leave you with Alarin, Tamara.” He bowed to her. “Please feel free to visit the embassy at any time. We will certainly be having more get togethers. I hope you will attend many more of them.” He knew he was being abrupt, but his body was more off balance than he’d expected. It had been a long time since he’d dealt with another projecting empath and he needed a moment to re-center himself. Otherwise, he knew he’d find himself leaking to the rest of the room. The last thing he needed to do was project sexual frustration at a room full of telepaths.

  He left, trying not to feel like he was fleeing. Still fighting his body for control, he ran into Greg on his way out.

  “Damn,” Greg said in response to Merran’s state.

  “Tell me about it,” Merran replied. “Alarin says she’s possibly a projecting empath.”

  Greg blinked at him. “Given your reactions, I’d say that’s more than a possibility. Is she only projecting at the moment?”

  “She was sensing pretty hard when she arrived and projecting too. I think she could hear some of the mental conversation and it scared her. She started projecting stark terror so loud I went over and shielded her. Then she started to relax and got attracted to me. That’s what undid me. I couldn’t shield her and myself at the same time,” Merran explained. Greg touched him lightly, doing something to his limbic system, and his body began to settle down. “Alarin’s out there shielding her right now. If she becomes attracted to him, she’ll put him into my state in moments too.”

  “And she has no idea she can do this?” Greg studied him.

  Merran shook his head. “Not that I could tell. Her projection of desire at me was innocent. I don’t think she’s done this much.”

  “That would make sense if she’s never had sex. Among Azellians, the awakening of psi energies and sex usually go hand-in-hand.” Greg shook his head. “This particular incident should almost be over. I’ll start getting her used to the idea of psi immediately, just in case there’s a link between human psi and sex too.” He studied Merran clinically and grinned. “Considering you seem to find her quite attractive and we know how much you love human women.”

  Merran waved a hand, ignoring the comment. “You’d better get out there, then. Oh. How’s Justy?”

  “Better. I think he’s just a little freaked out and not used to the sensation at all. And space lagged besides. He’ll be fine as soon as he settles down.”

  Merran nodded. “Is my office empty? I need a few moments to collect myself.”

  Greg waved his hand. “Be my guest.”

  It was with a tremendous sense of relief that Merran escaped into the quiet of his office.

  Across the lobby, Alarin guided Tamara unobtrusively to the edges of the crowd. Tamara’s patchy shields thickened, laying a soft veil across her thoughts that protected her mind from the chaos around her. As her shields thickened, Alarin gently withdrew his shield from around her.

  Pain built behind her eyes, a steady throbbing pressure that spread to the back of her head and thumped heavily in time to her heartbeat. Tamara didn’t quite know what was happening or why, but suddenly the light stabbed at her eyes, nausea burned at the back of her throat, and the sounds of the talking people made her ears hurt. Tears eked out the corners of her eyes as she looked up at Alarin, barely even aware of his presence. Flashing lights danced across her vision and she wobbled on her feet. Strong arms caught her, picked her up, and carried her away. Her head started to whirl faster and faster, and she slid slowly toward complete black.

  When she awoke, she was in a dark room. Disoriented and confused, she moved, but pain exploded through her.

  “Don’t move,” a very soft voice told her. “Stay calm.”

  “Wh—” Her voice failed, nothing but a croak came out. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Greg Tenricth.” The young man was barely visible in the dark room, but his voice came out of the shadows from somewhere to her right. As he approached, she recognized him as the stocky, sandy-haired young man from earlier. “I can help you with your headache, if you cooperate with me. Do you mind if I touch you?”

  Tamara fought down a sudden wash of nausea. She nodded gingerly, not having the ability to say anything right then. Greg could either see in the dark or took her silence for assent, because a light touch on her forehead soothed away the pain. With it went the nausea, until Tamara felt human again. Greg moved his hands and a low light sprang up.

  “Where am I?” she asked, still feeling the need to whisper.

  “Merran’s office. It’s the most shielded place I could bring you.” Greg said matter-of-factly, but she did not understand his explanation. “How’s your head?”

  “Fine. H—how did you know? I w—was talking to—” She frowned. Nothing was clear since her arrival at this party.

  “You were talking to Alarin. When you developed a headache, he brought you here to recover and called me to help.”

  “Wh—what did you do?” Tamara looked at him, suddenly nervous. She just remembered him touching her forehead, followed by a tremendous feeling of warmth, then the blessed cessation of pain.

  “I healed you.” Squatting at her side, Greg sat back against his heels. “It’s something some of us Azellians can do. Comes in useful at times.”

  “Healed?” Tamara asked, fascinated despite herself. “What do you mean? Like Jesus?”

  Greg laughed. “Not nearly so mystical or religious as that. You had inflammations in the muscles of your neck and it cut off a few capillaries, causing a
very common phenomenon known as a migraine. I believe that’s what you call it in English. I simply drained the inflammation and freed the blood flow again.”

  Alarmed, Tamara sat up and stared at him. “I had what? Oh no!”

  Greg touched her shoulder lightly and her alarm faded. “Nothing unusual, just a typical migraine. I healed it. It doesn’t matter exactly how.”

  Tamara stared down at his hand. “You mean like that? You’re doing something to me right now, aren’t you?”

  Greg smiled at her, removed his hand, and looked harmless. “I’m calming you down. Encouraging your body to produce calming hormones.”

  “Do all the others here have these abilities?” Tamara asked. Deep down inside something clicked. Unbidden, a memory welled up of her grandfather’s gruff voice telling her about fantastic things he had witnessed by the Azellian Healers. She had always thought the stories were exaggerations, especially because that was what her grandmother always claimed.

  “No, I’m the only one on Earth right now who can do this. It takes a certain combination and fine tuning to make a Healer, and it’s not actually all that common.” Again, the explanation didn’t quite make complete sense to her.

  “The others do have abilities, though, don’t they?” Something tickled at the back of her brain again. More of Grandpa’s stories.

  Greg nodded. “Different ones, in varying degrees. There’s nothing mystical about these abilities, Tamara. They simply are very natural results of using certain parts of the brain.”

  “ESP has never been proven.”

  Greg smiled. “Psi exists, Tamara. Probably among humans, too, even if you don’t know about it yet. Azellians aren’t that different from humans. Our talents might be stronger than human talents because of environmental and acceptance factors, but we are all the same. Would you like me to show you about it?”

  Fascinated despite herself, Tamara nodded. “But why would you? I’m just a human.”

  “Let’s just say it may come in useful. Especially if you ever decide to come to Azelle to visit. You wouldn’t be frightened or overawed. We aren’t gods just because we can do things with our minds that others can’t, Tamara. We still have frailties and feelings, just like humans.”