She kept sneaking glances at Hankura, hoping he wouldn't notice. Despite the blue psi-patch on his ice-blue uniform sleeve, she found his dark-haired good looks appealing.
Hankura stifled a grin and turned his attention to Nathan, a big man, all of two meters tall. He had rich brown hair with deep set hazel eyes. His hard, angular jaw was set in defiance as Hankura looked him over.
Nathan figured he wouldn't want him because he was considered big and clumsy. Hankura had to admit to himself that Nathan looked more like a manual laborer than a skilled Med-tech, but he couldn't afford to be fussy. According to the record, Nathan was from Cantes III. His recommendations from Cantes III and from the small medical center in Tharn were excellent. However, he'd had a difficult time adjusting since his transfer to Fargo's team at Salla. In fact, Fargo had just requested his transfer.
Mikal did some fast talking to get him to come and talk with Hankura. He came reluctantly. If Hankura, a Psion rejected him, that was the lowest. If he did, Nathan planned to go back to Cantes III. There was nothing to hold him on Aledus, except possibly his infatuation with Sharlel. Only she wasn't aware of his feelings.
"You're both acceptable as far as I'm concerned. Even if you weren't, I don't have much choice. So--if you're willing to give me a chance, I'll treat you fairly," Hankura told them. "We don't have much work at the moment. You can work out a schedule with Mikal pending surgery. . .."
Just then Mikal burst into the room. "Hankura, we have a badly beaten kid--a psion--internal bleeding, the whole list." He didn't bother to add that Tech-twos were prepping him for surgery. He just let Hankura read him.
"Damn!" Hankura murmured as he stood abruptly. "He's hardly more than a boy. Come on, Nathan, Sharlel. You start now." He skirted the desk and strode toward the doorway, feeling through his sense of responsibility a certain charge of excitement surging inside him. This was his element, what he was trained to do, and he was eager to meet the challenge. At the same time, bitter anger simmered inside him that cruelty and violence had brought him his first patient.
The unconscious youth was waiting for them in Surgical Cell 217, prepped and draped, attended by two techs. Hankura checked his condition quickly on the scanner readouts while Nathan set a neural block by inserting special electrode pins into his scalp. Once the block was completed, Nathan stood by to monitor vital signs. Sharlel began working on the left arm at Hankura's unspoken signal, and he and Mikal started an incision to make repairs on a ruptured spleen and a damaged kidney. There were also three broken ribs to mend after that.
Telepathically en rapport, not a word was spoken among the four throughout the entire set of procedures. This rapport was kept almost entirely intact by Hankura, through a psi-link that enabled his colleagues to work almost as extensions of himself. Yet, they remained separate unto themselves within that harmony.
Sharlel repaired two breaks in the arm by fusing the broken pieces of bone together, then closed the tiny incisions she'd made. There was hardly a trace that the arm had ever been injured when she finished.
Mikal and Hankura continued work on the internal injuries and moved on to repair the broken ribs while Sharlel applied artificially cultured skin patches to some nasty scratches on the boy's face. She also grafted skin over a deep gash on his cheek to a neat, smooth closure. After that, she stood back watching Hankura similarly close the lower chest cavity. As he finished, Hankura signaled for Nathan to remove the neural block gradually and for Sharlel to administer a drug for the pain their patient would begin to feel and a healant to speed his body's natural healing processes.
A few minutes later, the young man began to regain consciousness, looking anxiously at each of the four masked strangers hovering over him. He was frightened and disoriented, and he hadn't scanned them to know whether or not he was still in danger.
Good work. Hankura sent each of his Techs a mental compliment, and turned his attention to the patient on the table before him, pulling off his mask. You're safe now DaVonne. No one will hurt you here. You're at Salla Medical Center. We have patched you up, and I think you'll recover nicely.
Olia? Where is Olia? Did they hurt her?
No one hurt her. Your free mates waiting in your recovery cell to see you. An autocart will take you there in a moment, and I'll check on you later.
Davonne lolled his head from side to side in mental anguish. Why did they do this to me? I did nothing to provoke them. They just kept hitting and kicking me, and I could feel that they liked hurting me. But, why?
Hankura grimaced at the young man's pain, shaking his head. "Mother of life, I wish I really knew!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Chelle watched Landis poise the pipette over the Petrie dish for his part of their joint laboratory experiment. She compressed her mouth into a thin line. He was doing it wrong as usual.
"Wait, Landis." She touched his wrist lightly. "You must not accelerate mitosis until you've confirmed your correction of the genetic defect on the chromosome chain."
"Keep your hands off me, minder!" He jerked his arm from her touch as though she'd poked him with a hot probe. "I know what I'm doing."
"The hell you do. You're going to botch the experiment for both of us. That kidney will be good for nothing. At least let me check it if you won't."
"Don't touch it!" Landis glared at her. "Who made you an expert anyway?"
"I'm no expert. I never claimed to be, but Hankura told me you always check the chromosomes before you accelerate the growth of tissue. Otherwise, the new organ may have the same defects as the old one."
"So? What does he know?" Landis placed the cover over the dish and set it inside the incubator.
"He knows. He's a physician, and a good one. He explained this entire process to me this morning."
"Another bleeping psion, I suppose?" he muttered.
"What has that got to do with anything? Psions aren't stupid! Most are more intelligent than a lot of Normals, so don't give me that sludge," she spouted back, her temper boiling. "The only reason you won't check for genetic damage is that I suggested it. You know that's the right procedure."
About half an hour later, Instructor Marcus came to analyze the regenerated organ with a bio scanner. Chelle's disgust with Landis increased as Marcus showed her the readouts first. "Can you tell me what this indicates?" he demanded.
"The organ has the same defects as the original," she stated in a respectful tone, steeling herself for the reprimand she sensed was coming. "They weren't successfully corrected.
"And why not? You know the correct procedure, Madam. You are psi-mated to a physician. Had this organ been implanted in a patient, it would have deteriorated in the same manner as the original. That is precisely what this experiment is to teach you to avoid. Your mistake would have caused a patient to undergo a second unnecessary surgery for your carelessness."
"Yes, sir. I'm well aware of that. But, Landis has no use for my opinions or my assistance." She'd let Landis get away with it too many times before. She was tired of it.
"I see." Marcus glared at both of them and his mouth compressed into a grim line. "I'm warning both of you for the last time. These are not competitive experiments. One cannot always work with colleagues of his own choosing. I think you have both lost sight of our main concern here, which is---if you will remember---the patient. If you can't put your personal differences aside and work together efficiently, perhaps this profession is not meant for either of you. Repeat this experiment, and do it correctly or get out of my class. Is that clear to both of you?"
Landis nodded and gave Chelle a murderous look as Marcus turned and strode out of the lab cell. "You're so smart minder; you correct the genetic defects. If you do it wrong, I'll make sure you get the blame."
Chelle face grew warm, and she turned to him with her fists doubled in rage. Nobody had ever treated her like that and gotten away with it. She wanted nothing better than to wipe that smug look off his boyish face. He was a little bigger and a little stronger---
maybe. But he hadn't been raised on the streets of Farringay. She would teach him to respect her one way or another . . ..
No, Chelle! Calm down, it isn't worth it. Please! Her eyes widened for an instant, then she relaxed her stance as Hankura's telepathy soothed her. It would change nothing, love. If it weren't him, it would be someone else. I know you want to hit him but don't do it. If you hurt him, there'll be others to hurt you---and you'll be expelled.
The last inflection convinced her. She wanted to teach Landis a lesson, but she didn't want to risk being expelled when she had come so far in such a short time. She had to get out of there before she succumbed to the temptation.
"If I'm at fault then I will accept the blame," she said with a quiet dignity that belied her raging emotions. "I'll take no credit or blame from you or anyone else that I don't deserve. I'm going for a walk. When I get back, I suggest we each do our part of the experiment the right way and select one of our specimens for regeneration--yours if you prefer. We should both learn the technique for reorganizing the genetic structure. That is the most difficult part of the process."
"I don't want to," Landis said, and Chelle could sense that he didn't understand the process. Yet he was angry with her as if it were her fault.
"Have it your way, then," she told him. "And Landis . . . I don't need to make and ass of you. You do that quite well yourself."
Chelle took off her lab apron and walked out of the cell. She needed some time alone to think. Had she not wanted to be a Tech so badly, she wouldn't be going back. She'd do the experiment later--without Landis' 'help.'
With another hour before her next lecture, Chelle decided to spend the time by Narcaza Fountain. She sat down in the thick brown moss before the huge fountain. The moss smelled like fresh mushrooms, and the air was filled with a cooling mist. Watching the water rise and fall into the huge, round, marble pool soothed her. Although her courses were interesting, attending the University of Salla was exactly the ordeal Trevin, and Capra warned it would be. After eight months, she had yet to make a friend. The realization depressed her and angered her as well.
She was openly snubbed by the Normals as she expected, but she had hoped at least some of the Aledan psions would be cordial. Instead, they were barely polite. They were even afraid of her. Maybe it was because she was not conditioned as they were--that her spirit had not been broken. She possessed an inner kind of wildness that they sensed and feared---and envied. And they sensed the barely controlled violence in her when she was taunted by the Normals.
If they would just give me a chance. I could be a better friend than they have ever known.
From time to time she looked up from her idle contemplation of the rising water. It made her feel wistful to watch others walking in couples or groups of friends. Capra and Trevin were friendly enough, but their friendship stopped short of the intimacy she needed aside from her relationship with Hankura. She needed a friend to fill some of the void Jerry had left. She ached with that need.
I need, too.
Chelle looked up; as someone stopped beside her. A petite blond woman about her age offered a shy smile. Chelle smiled back, recognizing her as a fellow loner who she had seen before in Narcaza Circle. She was a psion, too.
I am Kaara. The woman lowered herself to sit beside Chelle in the moss.
I am Chelle--from Earth.
Is it as bad as they say? Asked Kaara.
Probably worse. Chelle grinned, already feeling in harmony with this young woman.
Would you share memories with me?
Yes.
To put Kaara at ease, Chelle offered her memories first. She shared her memories of her life on the streets of Farringay, her psi-mating with Hankura, their journey to Aledus, and their life here. She shared the frustration of trying to fit in where she wasn't wanted, and she offered Kaara her trust. Kaara then offered her memories...
Kaara squatted at the edge of her sandbox scooping sand into a pile with her playmate Gray. She was five, and he was seven. They played together almost every day since his parents had moved to Darayn village a few months before. Gray was showing Kaara how to build a miniature agricomplex in the sand, starting with the main dome. She piled the damp sand while he packed it down.
"Father says that rural life is better because there are too many psions in Lenth now. He doesn't mind working there, but he doesn't want to live where so many people can get inside his head without his knowing it," Gray told her. He picked up the other shovel and started making a second pile for another dome.
"Why would they want to get in his head?" Kaara asked.
"Because he is an Enforcer. They don't like Enforcers, and Enforcers don't like them."
"You mean just because they can think to other people and help them think back?"
"Partly, but he says that they can make people do things even if they don't want to."
"They're not s'posed to. Mama said."
"Father says they do anyway--whenever they can get away with it."
"I don't." Kaara gasped as she realized what she had said. She put down her shovel and looked at Gray apprehensively.
"What do you mean, you don't?" he demanded.
"I can't tell you." She swallowed hard. Suddenly, she wanted to cry. Ever since that dumb test showed she was different, there were so many secrets to keep. Now Gray would figure it out, and he wouldn't be her friend anymore. "Mama said not to tell anyone--not even you. She said we wouldn't be able to stay in Darayn anymore."
"But, we're best friends. I won't tell anyone, Kaara. I swear--not even Father."
“'Specially not him. He would tell and make Mama and Papa send me away or leave Darayn."
"I won't tell. I swear by my ancestors," Gray assured her. "You're a psion," he whispered, understanding the need for secrecy.
Kaara studied his face and let herself sense some of what he was feeling without actually seeking a path into his mind. She sensed a combination of curiosity and excitement, but he wasn't threatened by her.
"Yes. It started after we came here. I can hear what people think, and I can think to people I like. Mama got me a psi tutor, so I could learn the right way."
"Can you think to me?" Gray looked at her with a new respect.
"You're not afraid."
"Uh huh." Gray shook his head. "We've been best friends all this time. We promised to always share and never be bad to each other. I know you. It's different than those other psions."
Kaara could tell that he was a little nervous because of the things his father told him. But Gray wanted to prove himself to Kaara. He couldn't believe a little girl like her could possibly hurt him despite what his father said.
I would never hurt you, Gray.
His eyes widened with this new sensation of sharing then he grinned. "That's super! It felt good."
I like you. Kaara smiled back. We can have secrets and share dreams--and never share them with anyone else.
"And you won't make me do things?"
I can't do that. I'm still a kid, and my psi isn't that strong yet. I can just think to people who let me. And I only think to people I like. Only eights or higher can do thought changing. My tutor said I might be an eight when I grow up, but I still won't do that. It's not fair to people who can't block psi.
"And we're best friends. You would never do that do me," Gray said earnestly.
"'Course not," Kaara said. "It's against the law, anyway. But Mama says people don't understand about psi. They believe all the dumb government lies and get scared. She used to believe that dumb stuff 'til I got tested."
"My Father says it's true."
"Maybe sometimes, but not always. Psions get scared, too, 'cause people don't like 'em. People won't like me anymore if they know. You can't tell anyone, Gray. Not ever."
"I never will," Gray promised.
He never did in the five more years they had as playmates before the Psi Institute representative came to Darayn to officially test all the ten-year-olds for psi. Once the resu
lts were made public, Kaara wasn't allowed to see Gray anymore before she was sent to Salla for conditioning. But they thought to each other every day as always until she left and said their goodbyes at night when they were alone in their separate bed chambers. She shared her fear with Gray, and he shared his faith in her, and they shared a dream that they built from holo-programs to leave Aledus someday to explore other worlds together. In the two years since they first came upon this plan, their fantasies grew into elaborate adventures that they shared mentally.
"Remember our dreams, Kaara. Someday, we'll make them come true. Even when you can't think to me in Salla, I'll think about you, and you think about me. I'll never forget you." In their years as playmates, Gray had learned to hold his thoughts for Kaara to seek them. Kaara was closer to him than anyone else in her life.
Kaara found his thoughts, and the sadness in them made her cry. I will never forget you, Gray.
It was eleven years before she saw or heard from him again. His father made sure he had no further contact with her, once she was identified as a psion….
Kaara heard the warning chime as she neared Narcaza Fountain. It was time for all Psions to leave the gardens for the rest of the day. She was reluctant to leave the peace she had found there after the harassment she had received from the Normals in her first integrated class at the University.
Kaara stayed in Salla after her psi conditioning to enroll in the University of Salla in the Alien Relations program. Unlike Chelle, she had opted for segregated classes, but there were several integrated studies in Kaara's program. It was proving to be a more difficult adjustment than she expected.
Psi-conditioning created a wall of suspicion among the Aledan psions. They were mostly all loners, except when they mated. Kaara had no mate: she was feeling very much alone. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the second chime.
The Aledan PSION: The Aledan Series Book 1 Page 15