Constant

by Lexi Ander

  Canry thought that was a good guess since the Erdaians were offspring of humans with mutations that happened when a colony was stranded on a world not fully terraformed. They had revolted after Terren scientists and the military experimented, attempting to tailor elite soldiers. Now the Erdaians resided in a solar system right outside the Andromeda Galaxy and were courting the Council of Neighn to be allowed into the coalition.

  “We also looked at the Reasani. Erdaian and Reasani are both species that can look human-like and have psi-abilities, but neither matched.” Father shrugged, his discomfort obvious. Canry empathized with him. Out of necessity, Valdor kept many secrets from his family.

  Canry thought it was strange that Zeus did not seem more upset, only curious after he was reassured that he had not inadvertently harmed anyone. Canry gave a discreet sniff, pulling the air over his tongue. Underwater, his senses were extremely keen. Unexpectedly, his sense of smell was just as sharp on land, though he could not yet identify many of the scents. He tried, though, looking for the bitterness of hurt or anger. What he got was nostrils full of pheromones. It seemed the odor of desire had the same flavor on land as it did in the water.

  “Why did you not consider the Fal’Amoric?” Zeus inquired.

  “For the safety of each generation’s Bespoken, very little is known about the Fal’Amoric and even less is documented outside their own people,” Meme replied. “There are worries, which we now know are well-founded, that someone would try to engineer a Bespoken. The royal line is the only one who knows what makes a Bespoken, the parentage kept secret from everyone but the Fal’Amoric ruler. But what is widely known is the Fal’Amoric are not a psionic people.”

  “But it seems I am,” Zeus replied, taking Dargon’s hand and staring at it as if it held answers. “I know nothing about genetics, but it seems I have only some Fal’Amoric DNA.” Canry found it interesting that Zeus did not identify as Fal’Amoric.

  “The equipment on the Oethra 7 is basic, calibrated to do a quick search for Fal’Amoric mitochondrial DNA, nothing else,” Dargon added, petting Alpha. “What is bothering you?”

  “I do not have a translator chip. Blenders have no need of one when interacting with the species of the Valespian Pact. But I also understood the V’Saar.” When Zeus looked up at his family, there was a hint of fear in his gaze.

  A soft hum filled Canry’s ears. Alpha had to be speaking to Zeus telepathically. The sensation was similar to when Numina spoke privately to each other.

  “Alpha says we can find out while we are here.” Zeus relaxed. “But I do not think it really matters. I am Mar’Sani. I know who I am. Did you have any tutors in mind?”

  Father looked as if he would redirect the conversation back to the subject Zeus obviously wanted to be done with, but said, “I have spoken to Councilmember Rheax Omphalox of the Chi-Lin and reached out to the Councilmember of Vito Aquanis. Both have connections to schools that teach their species how to access and use their psi-abilities. The Variel of Vito Aquanis lean more toward elementalism.

  “Councilmember Rheax would like to meet with you and the Variel will send Kaldor Darkmoonguard to assess you on Atlainticia. They both are interested since lightning is elemental in nature.”

  Canry understood the councilmembers’ curiosity in Zeus. Variel could not practice their elemental talent away from their homeworld. Of the members of the pact, they were the only species who practiced elementalism, and if Zeus was indeed like them, they would love to uncover how he manipulated the weather patterns of Valespia and Atlainticia.

  Zeus nodded his agreement.

  “Have you considered what you will do once you return home?” Azaes asked, gaze hooded. Canry had seen that look many times in his visions and it was connected to Azaes getting something he wanted desperately.

  Zeus shrugged. “I thought I would work on our space fleet and other systems, improving them.”

  “Should you not be a warlord for Azaes,” Meme said. Not quite a question and not quite a demand, making Canry glad he was not Zeus. How could he say no to Meme?

  Zeus’s brows raised, and his eyes widened. “I cannot. I flunked out of the Academy. All warlords must graduate before they can serve.”

  Ashari made a rude noise that startled a laugh out of Canry, which he quickly stifled with a hand. “Take the test again,” she prodded. “Sohm’lan was pleased with your performance on the battlefield.”

  The disbelieving sound Zeus made was almost as rude as Meme’s. “I am sure that Sohm’lan only wanted to strangle me or lock me in the ship.”

  “We have all seen the vids,” Mestor said. “The soldiers and Monticore speak of the Striker in reverent tones. Accredited or not, you were their warlord that day. You and Canry led them to victory. I am sure every one of them sent vids home about how they fought alongside you. The tales of the battle will go down in Atlaintician history as one of the top ten confrontations if not one of the top five.”

  “That settles it. You will become a warlord and serve with your brother.” Meme’s tone said the debate was over and she would brook no argument.

  Zeus’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Meme!” She stared at him, waiting patiently.

  ::Trap!:: Canry signed using the language of the hands that Shaneva had taught to him.

  Mestor snorted. ::Indeed::

  Meme swung her steady gaze over to Mestor, and he cleared his throat, sitting straighter in his chair.

  “All right?” Zeus did not sound convinced. When she looked back at him, he sighed in resignation. “I will inquire at the Academy when I return home.”

  Meme and Azaes beamed. If they had been sitting closer together, Canry was sure they would have smacked tails in victory. Zeus’s power fluctuated, but Canry did not hear any thunder. Mestor watched Zeus carefully, as if he too sensed it. Whoever taught him had limited knowledge, Canry guessed. His own teaching with Shaneva had been restricted since Nethus oversaw and approved everything he showed to her. They were able to keep some secrets from Nethus, but even Nethus would notice if he caught Shaneva doing something more advanced than what was allowed of non-Numina.

  Canry frowned. His sister had said people who knew of the Numina were forced to submit to a geas chips. Was the knowledge of quickening only held by Numina? Had they left the People of the Shore clueless? Rarely was Canry allowed around others, not that he had minded since he had always encountered hostility. His knowledge of the People of the Longing and their customs was limited, relying on Nethus to give him the information he needed. Logically, those who quickened would detect the Numina sooner or later, meaning they too would have been forced to accept a geas chip. The Numina did not share information. If the People of the Shore lost said knowledge… then those who quickened would know nothing.

  Canry felt like an idiot. He spent all his energy trying to blend in with the Numina so he could survive and learn everything Nethus could teach him. When finished, he had planned to leave the Numina behind. Though he would not be able to stay ashore indefinitely before he was called to perform his duties, he had dreamed of at least reuniting with his family. He had ignored much that did not have to do with his goals, missing a great deal that was essential to his people. He relied heavily on farseeing to keep tabs on those important to him. Since he did not have a vision of Numina taking Mestor in for a geas chip, it had not occurred to him that the rest of his family could be in danger of being trapped by the Numina. Should he search the future before he laid down to rest?

  “Canry, are you all right?” His father’s voice was close to his sharply pointed ears. He leaned on the chair’s armrest, watching Canry intently.

  He had been following the conversation, listening to Meme encouraging Zeus to tell the story of the brief kidnapping and meeting Dargon and Alpha. Which led to Zeus squawking with embarrassment when she inquired how he did not know that he’d impregnated Alpha. The twins were gleefully adding commentary here and there.

  Canry looked into Valdor’s sunrise-ye
llow eyes. “I was just thinking.” It was not a lie.

  His father waited, but Canry held his tongue. Nethus had not given him a geas chip, afraid it would interfere with his abilities, but he had other ways of keeping Canry in line, one of them being Shaneva’s welfare. Even though he was no longer Nethus’s student he would not take the chance, especially since so much of this reunion was not in his visions.

  “You are probably tired,” Meme said, squeezing his hand. “We should get you situated into your own rooms. Besides, everyone has an early and long day tomorrow.”

  “I will call for attendants to move the capsule.” Azaes rose and crossed to the spindly-legged desk.

  “Sohm’lan has returned to shore and is on his way back. I will meet him and bring him back to Canry’s suite.” Mestor rose too, staring at his data pad. When he passed behind the sofa, Mestor lightly grasped Canry’s nape.

  “Do we have additional clothing for Canry?” Zeus asked, leaning forward to look at him past Meme. “You look to be my size. You can choose anything from my wardrobe until a tailor can make you a few robes and suits.”

  Canry’s heart warmed with Zeus’s generosity, and he followed him into the sleeping chamber. Meme joined them, helping to choose outfits for Canry. He did not fail to notice that she constantly touched him or stood near as she laid out Zeus’s clothing for the meeting the following morning.

  With an armful of garments, Canry watched as everyone said goodnight to Zeus and Dargon. He savored every second, locking away the images to pull out later. The coming conversation with his parents would cause a rift between he and them. This closeness and love would go away, but he could not avoid what needed to be said, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Attendants came and lifted the capsule, water and all, though the lid was closed to keep the sea water from sloshing over the edge. Father led them down the hallway a couple of doors, and Azaes promised he would return shortly.

  “Our suite is here,” Meme said, indicating the next set of doors. “In case you need anything.”

  “I have a data pad connected to our system placed in your rooms so if we are not available, you can find us,” Father added.

  Canry’s stomach churned, acid scorching the back of this throat. “There are some things we need to talk about before the twins return.”

  “I thought as much,” his father said. Did he already know what Canry needed to say? Many of the Vondorians were farseers of some kind. Had Father foreseen this conversation?

  Canry ignored the awed glances of the attendants as Meme thanked them for their assistance in moving the capsule. She secured the doors and locked them so any who wanted to enter had to knock.

  “You can speak freely.” Father motioned to a seating arrangement, but Canry was too restless to sit.

  “Be my guest,” he offered politely to his parents, pulling himself back in preparation for the reactions they would have. “Please sit.” He did not quite pace but moved about the receiving room, looking at everything but not really seeing anything.

  He had practiced this speech so many times and still felt unprepared. “We need to discuss why I went away. And Zeus.”

  His parents were quiet, attentive, but they laced their fingers together and leaned into the other as if seeking solace and strength. He wanted to kneel before them and beg their forgiveness, apologize for the sorrow he had brought them, but he was frozen in place, his carefully crafted speech broken and jumbled into incomprehensible sentences. His throat closed over. The sharks were back, pushing a tangle of emotions up his esophagus as his vision blurred.

  How could he tell them he knew how to get home, but he had not tried? That he sensed Meme’s constant sorrow, and yet he had not responded? How could he reveal that Shaneva had been severely punished because of him? How did he explain things without revealing the Numina or talking about quickening?

  The doorknob rattled, bringing him out of his dark thoughts. Meme and Father did not move to answer the door. A soft click followed and Mestor entered with Sohm’lan close behind. Surprisingly, Azaes and Ariafella were with them.

  “Sorry,” Mestor said. “We were going to wait outside but Sohm’lan said Canry needed us.” He closed and relocked the door, pocketing the key.

  Canry turned to Sohm’lan, so much taller than everyone else, his size reminding Canry of the older Numina.

  “I know what happened,” Sohm’lan said aloud. Then through telepathy, he knocked on Canry’s shields. He reluctantly let them down. “You do not have to be afraid anymore. Shaneva and I are working on freeing you and our people without causing strife.”

  “But I cannot tell them everything yet.”

  Sohm’lan crossed the space between them and pressed his forehead to Canry’s. “They do not need to know everything right now, Waterson.”

  Tears spilled over his cheeks, and he hated this show of vulnerability. “They are going to despise me.”

  “No, they will not,” Sohm’lan said aloud before embracing him. “I have you now, young one.”

  This time Canry did not hesitate to wrap his arms around Sohm’lan. “I missed you, too.”

  “Come, it is time to tell your family about who you are. I will help you if you need me.” Sohm’lan pulled away and sat him in the space Meme and Father had made between them.

  “We will listen with an open mind,” Meme promised.

  After Sohm’lan gave him an encouraging nod, Canry prepared to tell his family as much of the truth as he was able.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Canry

  * * *

  “The first is about Zeus and what you know about Rathmar. You plan on telling him the truth of Rathmar’s situation before he returns home.” Out of the corner of his eye, Meme and Father were watching him expectantly but not with suspicion or hostility. Mestor and Azaes were alert, perched on their seats as if at any moment they could burst into deadly action. “I would suggest you wait until you are all home to break the news. Zeus will feel badly and internalize guilt that does not belong to him for leaving Rathmar behind. It will lead to a couple of incidents, while not life threatening—” Canry shrugged as if he did not care when it mattered very much. The decision needed to be theirs. It was not yet time for Zeus to discover many things. He let his family fill in the blanks, trying not to feel guilt for not telling them more.

  “Besides, Rathmar is in the Black Sands Desert with Whirlwind,” Canry pushed on. “And he will not come back to Thrace until Meme and Father return to Atlainticia.”

  Canry expected questions, demands for answers. His visions of this meeting had been hazy and unclear, but he thought he had a grasp on what would happen, and yet they watched him with open expressions. Which only unnerved him.

  “You are an exceptionally strong farseer,” Azaes said, moving to stand behind Ariafella’s chair, his hands going to her shoulders. Her smile had a hard edge when she noticed him watching.

  “That was easy for us to discern since you sent Zeus on a mission. You saw farther into the future than any of us could, with more clarity than any of us are capable of,” Mestor added, bringing a tray of glasses over and set them on the low table.

  “What Mestor is not saying is that he tried to look into the same event,” Azaes explained. Father frowned, and Canry imagined that he would be speaking to Mestor later.

  “Brother,” Canry whispered. “All of the outcomes were—”

  “Bad. Horrifying,” Mestor finished for him. “But you chose the one with Zeus and—”

  Canry made a low noise of disgust. “I sent Zeus into danger without warning and many were hurt.”

  “That was the best outcome we could have in those circumstances, little brother. Your decision saved Valespia, saved us. You gave us a chance to survive against the odds,” Azaes said with vehemence. Canry swallowed his self-loathing at Azaes’ defense of him. “You guided us on the path that would lead to success and minimized the harm.”

  He blinked back more tears.

>   “Farseeing any distance in time is a heavy burden,” Father rumbled next to him. “The more powerful the seer, the greater the responsibility. Every vision I have, I have to decide whether I should act or keep the knowledge to myself.”

  “Yes, but people I love have been hurt because of something I chose not to disclose.” Or from something he had not seen. He experienced so many pathways and he could not always remember them all. They blurred together, the details a jumbled chaotic mess.

  “And I have not?” his father countered. “The three of us,” he indicated Azaes and Mestor, “are farseers of different strengths and degrees. There is a penalty every time we use the gift granted to us. Not just the emotional one when we choose not to act on what we see, but a physical one that makes us unable to rise from our sleeping platforms for hours, sometimes days.”

  Perhaps he did not have the same physical consequence, but his farseeing of the roads he could take personally… most led to pathways of megalomania if he interfered too much. Those visions terrified him. He would not be ill in body but in mind as his ability twisted his perception, making him seem like a god until he believed he was one. Then all the people of the galaxy would live under his tyrannical rule, not allowed to make mistakes, living in fear that Canry would alter their fate for better or worse and they would not know.

  In order to keep from becoming a monster, he had to allow monstrous things to happen, to allow people to live their lives without him interfering in the events. He could not stop Timsah Gadrius from harming Zeus without changing Atlainticia’s future for the worse. Well, of course he could have done something, but the consequences… he swallowed back the guilt he carried. The memory of that farsight vision threatened to drag him into a recall, rendering him mute and unable to move until the vision finished playing out before releasing him. He would not be able to explain what happened in a recall adequately, so he pretended he was fine. His family remained still and silent, waiting on him. Once he started explaining what he could, he would lose their regard.