Alawahea

by Sara L Daigle

  Thickening his shields around his mind, Merran bowed to the two of them. “I’ll see you both Friday.” He didn’t wait for an answer but turned on his heel and walked away, using his training and experience to push away all the thoughts he’d rather not have.

  Tamara stared after him, worried about his reaction. “Was he really angry about my wanting to be an intern?”

  Alarin shook his head. “No, no.” He looked at her, studying her for a moment. “Did you just try to project?”

  Tamara’s eyes widened. “Well, I wished really hard that he could sense my desire to be an intern and that he could see I was telling the truth. Is that what you mean? But I thought you couldn’t read me.”

  “Normally we can’t. Since you had that episode at the embassy a couple of weeks ago, you’ve been heavily shielded. For just a moment, though, your shields cleared and we both read your desire to go to Azelle.”

  “Then why did he react that way?” Tamara looked at the doorway through which Merran had left. “It was like he didn’t want to be around us anymore.”

  Alarin laughed. “You don’t just let us read, Tamara. You project whatever it is you are thinking and feeling. It can be uncomfortable for the recipient. Powerful emotion is, especially when it is not your own. For a people who can read others’ emotions and thoughts easily, we are not all that comfortable with them. Or with talking about them. Come on, let’s head back to campus. You’ve got something happening at five, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.” She got to her feet and followed him out of the embassy.

  They walked in a companionable silence for a bit before Alarin spoke, “Do you know what that is?” He pointed at the large building towering ahead of them.

  “The Botanic Gardens.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, they’re gardens.” Tamara waved a hand, trying to think of how to explain to someone who lived on a desert planet just what that large structure housed. The subject kept them occupied for a while as they walked back to campus. After a few moments of confused description, Alarin threw his hands in the air.

  “I’m not sure why you’d want to put a forest in a glass structure. This would be much easier with psi, you know. You could just show me.”

  “It’s just as easy to go. It’s right there, doesn’t cost much to get in, and then you could see for yourself. Form your own opinion.”

  Alarin grinned. “This weekend?”

  “It’s kind of hot in the summer. It’s much better to visit the gardens in the middle of the winter, when everything outdoors is brown and cold. There’s more of a contrast at that time of year.”

  “So that wasn’t a request for a date then?”

  Tamara’s brain stuttered to a stop. She stared at him in shock as it spluttered and fired up again. “Uh, I mean, you have a girlfriend, don’t you? A fiancée? On Azelle. I know that. I would never …”

  His grin widened. “I’m just teasing, Tamara. I would love to see this glassed forest, and I would be honored to have you escort me. As a friend.”

  Her cheeks cooled. His oddly archaic way of asking was actually rather flattering. “Okay. Let’s plan on later in the semester. Maybe over Thanksgiving break or something.”

  “It’s a plan.” They walked up to the entrance of her dorm. Alarin bowed to her as he held open the door. “See you in class?”

  She nodded. “Uh, Alarin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for showing me the embassy and for the help convincing Merran to think about the internship.”

  He smiled. “You’re welcome. Anytime. See you later.”

  “Bye.” She went inside and headed upstairs to her room so she could get ready to head to her parents’ house for dinner.

  After Tamara and Alarin left, Merran tried desperately to think how to broach the subject of Tamara’s internship with Janille. Preoccupied as he came up the stairs, he didn’t say much when he walked past her desk. He sat at his desk for a few moments, then touched her shields lightly.

  She opened the door moments later. “Yes, Ambassador?”

  “Janille, I need to talk to you about a rather touchy subject. Please sit down.” Merran motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. With her usual unflappable composure, she settled in one of them. “How much do you know about Tamara Carrington?”

  “Just that she is a human student who has access to the embassy and appears on the call accept list, sir.”

  Merran raked a hand through his hair. “She’s a little more complicated than that.” He looked at her steadily. “There must be office rumors about her.” Especially after taking her out to breakfast and sparking her aura in the middle of an Azellian-run restaurant, he thought to himself. It had been impulsive on his part, but very enjoyable. It has been a very long time since I’ve slept with another psi user. Ever since I accepted the position as ambassador, I’ve limited myself to humans.

  “I don’t spread rumors, Ambassador.”

  “But you hear them. And I know a good many of them think she’s going to become one more in a long string of my lovers. Reality is considerably more complicated than that. Tamara Carrington is James Carrington’s granddaughter and looks to be Awakening.”

  Janille’s expression betrayed some surprise. “Awakening? Isn’t she human?”

  “Yes, but apparently they have similar talents to ours, because she’s promising to be a projector of some strength.”

  “Do humans Awaken the way we do?”

  “We have no idea.” He sighed. “We’re assuming it’s going to happen that way, if only because she’s showing all the symptoms of it. She’s certainly had at least one episode that’s the same as the way we Awaken and probably will have more before the energies break through.”

  “It is a part of your job, sir, to watch over those humans who might have Azellian blood. Do you think Tamara has Azellian blood?”

  “According to her records here, Tamara has not a shred of Azellian blood. So, except for the fact that I think she’ll make an excellent exchange student to Azelle, I really have no jurisdiction to get involved officially.”

  Janille gave him a look. “That hasn’t stopped you before, sir.”

  A smile flashed across his face. “No, it hasn’t. But maybe it will explain the next few things I have to tell you. Jason Bennington has promised his class extra credit for being an intern here at the embassy.”

  Janille sighed, the only indication of irritation marring her perfect composure. “I’ll warn the staff.”

  “I have a way to head it off, but I need your support to do it. Because of her potential Awakening, and because she’ll probably be going to Azelle in a few years, why don’t we allow her to be our intern? We don’t have to hide what we are with her, as she’s going to be exposed to it sooner or later. Actually, it’s preferable that she starts to get a feel for our abilities now. Can you keep her busy?”

  Janille’s expression was unreadable, but it certainly was not neutral. Merran wished, as he did frequently, that her shielding were not quite so perfect. “I could find things for her to do.”

  “This is where it gets complicated: I’m going to trumpet our acceptance of an intern to the world as an example of our new openness with everyone. Tamara’s possible Awakening and her abilities need to be kept quiet, as that won’t help my plan any and she probably won’t want them broadcasted around. I’m going to make her a junior assistant, at least for some of the meetings I have planned with the humans. It may take the teeth out of some of their accusations and their negotiations.”

  Janille was silent for a moment. “That could work. Although it could backfire if they found out about our and her abilities, as if we weren’t actually accepting a human, but one that may turn out to be pretty much like us anyway.”

  Merran shrugged. “It’s all part of the game.”

  “What about the girl herself? Is she willing to be a political pawn?”

  “She’s certainly going to learn some hard lessons abo
ut diplomacy.” Merran leaned against his hand and rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

  “And she will be your employee.” Janille didn’t say any more about it, but he could hear what she didn’t say.

  “I have no intention of making her anything more than an assistant, Janille.”

  “That’s what has me concerned, Ambassador.” Janille got to her feet. “Now, if you have nothing more to discuss, I will start to write up the agreement for the Diplomatic Studies Department.”

  Merran waved her away, resting his chin on his hand. Staring out the window, he tried to figure out whether he had done something bad or something really good.

  Across campus, at the dorm, Tamara headed off to her car to get home before five, then back to campus to finish her homework and sleep. Her mother was not much worse, they said, the disease having slowed its progress a little, but Tamara couldn’t tell. The chemotherapy they were giving her mother made her terribly sick. It hurt Tamara to see her mother lying on the bed, weak and drained, her hair thin and brittle, her eyes bruised and puffy. Tamara managed to get through an evening of her grandmother’s bitter complaints about everything and her sister’s snide comments about anything Tamara said. Her father, distant and unapproachable, remained remote throughout the evening. Tamara sat with her mother for an hour after dinner, then fled back to campus and tried to do some homework. She stared at the meaningless problems, tears welling up in her eyes. She fought them for a while, then let them consume her. As she hugged her pillow to herself, Tamara lay on her bed and sobbed.

  Her cell phone rang, forcing her to pull herself together. She didn’t know the number that came up; it was blocked. She blew her nose and answered the phone. “Hello?” Her voice quavered a little despite her best effort to sound “normal.”

  “Tamara? I didn’t wake you, did I?” It was Merran.

  She cleared her throat and tried to mitigate the nasally sound in her voice. “No, no.” It didn’t work.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine. What’s wrong?”

  Tamara blinked rapidly, her throat choking up again. She took a deep breath as she warred with her body, which wanted to keep crying. “I went to visit my family tonight.” She waved a hand, too choked up to say anything more. She struggled for composure, then collected herself as Merran waited patiently. “My mother’s going through chemotherapy right now, and it’s making her really sick.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never easy to watch someone we care about suffer.”

  She could sense the waves of calm emanating from the phone. The sensation was novel and odd enough that it chased away her tears. “You’re projecting at me right now, aren’t you?”

  “You can sense that?”

  “I’m just amazed you can do that over the phone.” Tamara touched the edges of her cell phone. It didn’t feel any different than it ever had. “How do you manage it?”

  “It’s not hard. Once a connection has been made, the energies are not hard to send over certain distances.”

  “Over any distance?” Glad to be talking about something else, Tamara leaned forward, listening intently. Her own problems with psi seemed miniscule compared to her mother’s illness.

  “Depends on the person. The farther the projection, the more energy it takes. It’s rather hard for most of us to project to Azelle, say, even when a connection has been made first over the phone. Although if the desire is strong enough, a person could project to Azelle without the benefits of the phone first. It just takes a huge amount of energy to do it.”

  “I wonder how much of it is just plain the way any of us communicate emotions … in our body language, tone of voice, et cetera.”

  “There’s more to projection than that.” He sounded amused. “There’s a manipulation and sensing of energies that doesn’t occur unless we’re in the right state of being. A very powerful projector can actively force someone to feel everything they are feeling. It can drive the recipient mad or even kill sometimes. Most of us projectors are also fairly sensitive receivers. Body language is not quite the same thing. Greg would actually be a good person to talk to about this. He’s more up on the current theories about psi and the manipulation of energies. I just know that I do what I do and don’t question it. Did you still want to work at the embassy as an intern?”

  Tamara’s breath hitched. “Yes, yes, I do.”

  “Janille does have some work you could do. We can work with your schedule to see what fits. She works six days a week.”

  Tamara’s heart leaped into her throat. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Was she actually going to be working with Merran? “What kinds of things would I be doing?”

  “This and that. Filing, sorting, scanning. Assisting me with meetings, if I can arrange it, and if you’re there when I have one in the office. Possible off-location meetings, too, depending on the the subject matter.” He hesitated for a moment, then continued, “This is going to be a high profile political position, Tamara. I am going to be accepting a human intern into the Azellian embassy for the first time in the fifty years Azelle has had an embassy on Earth. I am going to use this fact as a political tool in my efforts to get Earth humans and Azellians to be more open with each other.”

  Tamara swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. What had she gotten herself into? “Oh God.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. “All part of diplomatic studies, Tamara. As an ambassador, I can’t do anything without it having political repercussions, so I don’t. I make everything I do have political repercussions. I’ll be sending the agreement over to the Diplomatic Studies Department in the morning. You can handle it. It may sound glamorous, but actually it’s more like being a babysitter to a bunch of squabbling kids.”

  “I wish I were as confident as you are.”

  “You’ll see. It won’t be so bad. I work my staff hard, but we have a good time while we work.” He paused. “You can always say no.”

  “I know. I’m the one who wanted to work with the embassy, remember?” Tamara brushed her hair out of her eyes. “I’m just not used to getting what I ask for.” She could feel her excitement growing. It really will be an opportunity for me, she thought to herself. And extra credit with the toughest professor on campus! “It’ll be good and give me something else to think about besides my mom,” she said to Merran.

  “Why don’t you come by a little early on Friday, before the party, and we can get your schedule worked out?”

  Tamara nodded. “Thank you, Merran. See you Friday then?”

  “You’re very welcome, Tamara. Friday.” She hung up the phone and sat back down on her bed. Hugging her pillow, her mind and emotions twirled wildly. An internship. She had an internship at the Azellian embassy! Lying back against her bed, she let that awareness—and a tiny little fantasy about the boss of the embassy—play through her mind, distracting her from the rest of her worries.

  Merran hung up, wondering how the hell he was going to survive working with her. She was the most interesting mixture of insecure and fragile, occasionally showing flashes of something else far more alluring. And her projection! Suddenly jealous of Greg and the allowances given to him as a Healer, he twisted his chair around, jumped up, and stalked into the living room. He pushed her out of his mind and went over to the television, turning on the news to see what was going on outside of Denver and his little world.

  Chapter Six

  EXCITEMENT CARRIED HER through Tuesday. Not even Justern’s teasing could dampen her spirits, but by the time her next diplo class came around, her excitement about the internship shifted the other way. What had Merran meant when he said it was going to be a high profile position? Her family would not be at all happy with that! She found herself very nervous as she walked to her Diplomatic Studies class, wondering what Merran had said to her professor.

  She suspected that she wouldn’t have that long to wait—and she didn’t. Professor Bennington met her
at the door of the classroom. “Tamara, would you come to my office, please?”

  Her stomach leaped to her throat as her heart pounded intensely. She followed him to his office. “Yes, Professor?”

  The professor held up a thick sheaf of papers. “This came through to me this morning. It seems you have been accepted as intern to the Azellian embassy.”

  Tamara flushed. “I know. Ambassador Corina told me two nights ago.”

  The professor leafed through the pages. “It is a very thoroughly thought-out document. It is comprehensive … covering almost any eventuality you might think of, from what conduct the student is expected to have to the qualifications to the grounds for termination or dismissal. When did you discuss this with the ambassador?”

  “Monday.”

  “You managed to convince him in one day to do this? One day?”

  “I had help,” Tamara admitted hastily, trying to minimize her influence on the ambassador. “I’m going to declare a focus planet this year of Azelle, and I’m going to be applying to go to Azelle on the exchange program. Also, my grandfather was ambassador to Azelle for a long time. I think he thought I might adjust more easily because of my history. And I’ve made friends with a couple of the Azellian exchange students. One of them helped me convince the ambassador.”

  The professor looked at her steadily. “However you managed to get him to agree, it’s not going to be an easy assignment. And he’s made it quite plain that other students will not be accepted.” Although somewhat impassive normally, the professor’s expression grew faintly rueful. He focused on her again. “You have managed to pull off quite a diplomatic coup, Tamara. Quite worthy of your grandfather. I’m willing to offer you a percentage increase in your grade should you need it.” He frowned slightly. “I do have to warn you, however. I will expect tremendous things from you this semester. You will be expected to do better than any other student in the class. Your grade may or may not reflect other things, but you and I will know that the true test will be in how well you handle the concepts I am going to be teaching.”