Damia's Children

by Anne McCaffrey

  The orders were signed by the High Council Coordinator and, although several of the names surprised Thian, he had them memorized long before the pencil file disintegrated. As he made necessary, but discreet, contact with the other Talents, he also began to meet some odd resistance and reactions from crewmembers, men and women who had been at least polite to him. He found the answer to that hostility from Gravy. They’d met from time to time in the officers’ mess and in the corridors, but he hadn’t been able to find a time when they were both off-shift and he could outline what might be expected of her as a Talent. But it had become necessary for him to seek her out and he found her alone in the gym, working out on the rowing apparatus.

  “I’m glad to see you, too, Thian,” she said, mopping her brow and resting her arms on the oars. “I’ve heard some spaceflot that I don’t really want to report to the captain . . .” She cocked her head at him and he sensed her hesitation. “You know I’ve got a little Talent?”

  “Yes,” he said, sliding into the apparatus next to her, “in fact, I’m glad I’ve a chance to talk to you because I’m supposed to touch bases with all Talents on the ship.”

  “Hmmm, in case of emergency, yes, I sort of figured you’d get around to me on that score,” she said equably. “I’m not sure what good I’ll be. I’m only an empath . . .”

  Thian grinned at her. “Don’t knock it, Gravy. Only an empath is much more helpful than only a receiving or sending ’path.”

  “But what good would I be?”

  “It’s like this, Gravy,” and he found himself more easy with her than with anyone else on the Vadim, the very reason why her empathy was so valuable, especially as a nurse. “Should an emergency arise when I’d have to tap into all the Talent on board, your empathic strength is added to the pool. You’re down as a T-5 which is the highest, bar me, on the Vadim. You’d be more help than you might realize. Now, what’s this spaceflot?”

  She frowned. “It’s talk but it’s nothing . . . good.”

  Thian wondered if Malice was showing his hand. “Don’t worry about my feelings, Gravy.”

  She gave him a very direct look. “You may think you’re fooling others, and you are, actually, since you’re so good at what you do, but I happen to know you’re not as old, despite that sexy silver streak of yours, as you’d want others think you are. Especially when you’re teaching . . .” and she grinned at him, to take the sting from her message, “you sound exactly like our Professional Ethics prof, so stuffy and precise . . . Of course, speaking ’Dini makes you be precise or you garble everything . . .”

  “Gravy, you’re hedging,” he said, not prying but recognizing a delaying tactic.

  “Partly because I think the rumor’s so stupid,” she said with some heat, and then rushed on to say, “but there’s some think you’re a glory-grabber.”

  “What?” Thian laughed in surprise, more relieved than he could ever let Gravy realize. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could have overheard his interview with the captain, or known of the special preservation list, but if that was what Gravy had heard, such orders were already compromised.

  “They seem to think that you’ll reach out with your Talent and somehow do what the Fleet ought to be doing.”

  Thian laughed more heartily then. “Gravy, that’s not very likely. Not to mention impossible.”

  “But you Talents did that at Deneb. Twice!”

  “Talents, plural, Gravy. In fact every Talent available down to kids of ten and twelve. Not singular, me, with a dozen minor Talents to assist. There’s no way I could or would grab any glory. ’Sides which, I do know my limitations. Heroism is not indicated.”

  She gave a sniff. “Heroes happen. Generally,” and now she grinned rakishly at him, “when it’s not indicated.” Then her expression altered to earnestness. “However wrong the thinking is, it’s there and it’s not good. Folks are odd. I mean, here you got a lot of ’em home for shore leave—even if it got canceled—and you’d think they’d be at least grateful. But no, they’re out to find something . . . something . . .”

  “Negative?” Thian suggested, knowing exactly what people could find to disparage about the Talented.

  “That’ll do,” she said. Then, in a rush of empathy, she put her hand on his arm. “You’re a nice guy, Thian, and I’ll do what I can to offset the flot. D’you want me to report it to Ashiant?”

  “Only if you have something specific that has an adverse effect on morale as a whole,” he managed to say, more distracted by the warm hand on his arm, and her very feminine presence, the delicate floral taste of her, than he thought possible.

  She caught his response, though, because he was lax in reining in his thoughts, because he hadn’t felt the need to shield in Gravy’s company, and because he was missing the company of Mur and Dip.

  “Sometimes it’s better to squash a rumor as flat as possible—especially right now when we might be heading into action,” she said, keeping her hand on his arm so that he couldn’t help but “read” her which, he also realized, was exactly her intention. Her very expressive eyes confirmed it.

  “I thought,” he began in a sort of daze, “that’s when rumors would multiply, a sort of combat-readiness reaction.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, leaning into him, clearly no longer interested in the previous subject of conversation. “D’you know where I got my nickname?” she asked.

  Thian rather thought he did but he hedged in a sudden fit of shyness. He had had that dream involving her, and he’d dreamed long enough with ’Dinis to know that there were true ones.

  “Can we get to your cabin without being seen?” she asked him, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. He was suddenly deluged by intense sensuality which he was unable, and unwilling, to deflect. Her smile challenged him to seize the moment.

  “Yes, ma’am.” And grasping her in his arms, he ’ported them neatly onto the floor space beside his bunk. But he had slightly misjudged their mass and, off-balance, they tilted onto his bunk. That took care of his residual reserve.

  Thian had never truly appreciated the company of an empath such as Alison Anne Greevy and he didn’t care where she acquired her nickname. He hadn’t had so much experience that he was confident of his ability to perform but Gravy made all easy, natural, and rather special.

  “How long are your friends away?” she asked at one point.

  “Two months.” He suppressed a speculative spurt as to where he’d be in two months’ time.

  “What did they have to go for?” she asked and he realized that she honestly didn’t know. “I mean, all crew have been recalled, haven’t they?”

  “’Dinis in need of hibernation would be no good in an attack. No blame is attached to their absence . . . at least from ’Dinis.”

  “I’d heard about this hibernation business. What exactly happens?”

  Thian chuckled, stroking her fine blonde hair. It was softer and silkier than a ’Dini pelt. “Something like this.”

  “You don’t know?” She was surprised.

  “There are some things species should do for themselves to themselves in absolute privacy.”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” she sighed with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pulled his head down to her again.

  * * *

  The intercom buzz roused them and, for a split second, Thian was disoriented by the feel of the body against his.

  “Mister Lyon?” was the query.

  “Here,” Thian said quickly.

  “Captain’s compliments and can you come to the ready room?” was the voice message.

  “Whoops!” Gravy murmured into her hand, instantly awake and rather charmingly rumpled by sleep, her fair hair standing out in wisps from her head while one errant curl pressed into her cheek. He smoothed it back, not quite wishing to relinquish their physical contact. “And look at the time!” She drew her breath in a hiss, at the same time smoothing her hair back.

  “You don’t share a cabin, do you?”

&nbs
p; “Thank the gods, no,” she said.

  “I’ll just put you back unseen then,” he said.

  “Hey, that’d be tops!” she said, hurriedly pulling on her exercise gear and swinging her legs off the bunk to stand up. “This right?”

  “Thanks, Alison,” he said.

  “Catch me any ol’ time, Thian love,” she said, her grin mischievous, her eyes dancing, and her mind exuding the genuine pleasure she had received and given. And the position of her cabin, two decks below.

  Thian ’ported her there and then took time to use the dry shower and dress appropriately for the day.

  * * *

  “We’ve more information on that object, Mr. Lyon,” Captain Ashiant said. Tikele, the Security Chief and the Comm duty officer, this time Steena Blaz, were also present.

  Thian seated himself comfortably, ready to ’path messages, but the captain continued to pace the length of the conference table.

  “We have first established that there are no emissions of any space drive known to exist, Human, ’Dini, or Hive,” he said.

  That was a surprise and Thian restrained his amusement. No glory at all to grab. And no lives to be wasted in an attack to the death. But he maintained an alert interest as the captain continued.

  “It would appear to be a derelict of some sort.”

  “An unusually large derelict,” the comm officer said softly, evidently not comfortable with what she’d seen on the sensors.

  “That’s a pity,” Thian said, since that was their feeling. Odd how brave people could feel after an emergency had passed.

  The captain flicked one heavy eyebrow in dismissal. “If our readings are correct. And I’d like you to check with the ’Dinis on this. There’s been enough time for them to have analyzed the same readings.”

  Captain Plr agreed with Ashiant but Captain Spktm, who was the senior naval commander, was not totally convinced.

  “It says that the lack of emissions is not conclusive evidence that this is a derelict. It advises great caution.”

  “Hmmm.” Ashiant paced one more length. “The KLTS has had more contact with Hive vessels than anyone else in this squadron. Hmmm.”

  “It wants to send a probe.”

  “Of course,” and Ashiant paused, fingers over the terminal station. “Theirs or ours?”

  Thian inquired and replied that the ’Dinis believed Human probes to be more efficient. Thian did not add the ’Dini qualification that Human probes were more efficient because they employed gadgets to do what personal observations could do better. The ’Dinis were not precisely calling Humans cowards, but certainly over-cautious.

  “So they approve of our hardware, huh? Well, they’re right as well as honest,” Ashiant replied and gave the necessary orders for a probe. “It’ll be at least twenty-three hours before it gets there and starts reporting. Carry on, gentlemen, and rejoin me at 0800 tomorrow. A moment, if you will, Thian.”

  “Captain?”

  Ashiant nodded for him to keep his seat as the others filed out.

  “I read somewhere that your family can identify Hive materials by the . . . ah . . . sound of them?”

  As this question wasn’t at all what Thian had expected, he laughed as much in relief as surprise.

  “That’s true enough, sir. On Deneb they’re still turning up buried pieces of the first scout vessels. There’s a naval research facility investigating the composition of the material. I was on only one successful expedition with my cousins: We got an interior panel about . . .” he encompassed the size with his hands, “this big. It did give off a distinctive emanation, I guess you’d say. Family called it a sting-pzzt. Other sensitives agree.” He shrugged, searching for another way of describing the sensation. “It comes across as an actinic smell in the back of your throat, a sharp pinch in your nasal passages, and an unpleasant smell.”

  Ashiant grunted. “But you would know it?”

  “Anywhere, sir.” Thian waited, respectfully silent, while the captain continued to ruminate. He made no attempt to plumb those thoughts.

  “A probe can bring back only mechanical information, Thian,” Ashiant said at length and suddenly Thian knew what he might be asked to do.

  He couldn’t help but react and the captain caught his grin.

  “Yes, Thian?” He raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer.

  “I’d heard, Captain . . . well, there’s some spaceflot about Talents grabbing all the glory . . .”

  “Oh, that,” and a gesture dismissed the rumor. “As you’re already aware, I am under orders not to put you at risk—which is where glory is usually grabbed—but I will ask how far you can propel yourself in a capsule.”

  “To the derelict-planetoid-whatever?”

  The captain held up his hand. “But well outside the known range of Hive weaponry . . . with which our allies are so familiar.”

  “If it would help, sir, I’m willing.”

  “I’m just thinking aloud, Thian. Wanted to get the straight of that . . . ah . . . trick. You are of great assistance to us in many other capacities.”

  “I appreciate that, Captain. In the event such a service is required, it is entirely within my scope of abilities and the position I was asked to fill . . . if that’s what’s bothering you.”

  “Thank you, Thian. That’s all now, I think, until we’ve the probe report. Damned thing could be just lying doggo.”

  “That isn’t what Senior Captain Spktm believes.”

  “Oh?”

  “But it is adamant about approaching with great caution. Even Hiver wrecks have had nasty surprises for boarding parties.”

  “So I’d read in those exhaustive ’Dini reports they furnished us. You’ll be informed when the probe starts transmitting.”

  “Aye, sir . . .”

  “And Thian, I wouldn’t let the spaceflot bother you. Nerves talking, not common sense. We’re still on yellow alert, of course, but some of the urgency has dissipated now we know the thing’s inactive.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  As Thian left the ready room, he wondered if he had missed an opportunity to mention Malice. Though he hadn’t heard any barbs from that direction since the blip had come up. Hopefully too occupied with more urgent duties. The crew of the Vadim were busy preparing for action. He was nearly to his quarters when another pod drill was called by the hooting of the siren.

  With a grunt, he ’ported himself to his designated escape pod and counted in the nine others assigned to it. By now he knew all of them well enough to have saved them no matter where they were on the Vadim should the abandon ship order be given. He wondered if any of them knew of these orders but all he ever sensed was annoyance that their current task had once again been interrupted by a geedee drill.

  * * *

  A circumnavigation by the probe produced very interesting results. The derelict was undeniably Hive designed which excited the ’Dini who were generous in their rectitude.

  “Captain Spktm says it’s bigger than any they’ve encountered, with certain design features that are new and it’s very glad the vessel’s nonfunctional,” Thian reported to the specialists assembled in the ready room.

  “Measurements indicate it’s a third again as large as previously encountered vessels,” Commander Vandermeer said. “A small planet!”

  “Readings indicate the ship was bombarded with intense heat. Radiation is still present as well as some very odd traces of other elements that are being spectro-analyzed. There’s no known weapon that devastating, or one that could have left such traces.”

  “Something blew two-thirds of that ship to hellingone.” Then Vandermeer shrugged. “And it’s nothing the ’Dinis have ever encountered. Nor us.”

  “I’d hate to meet what has that kind of firepower,” Ashiant said.

  “That’s precisely Captain Spktm’s sentiment,” Thian reported and then grinned. “It would like whoever it was to be on our side.”

  Ashiant laughed out loud and there were other smiles about
the table. “I didn’t know the wee . . . ahem . . . our allies had a sense of humor.”

  “They do, sir, believe me!”

  Ashiant steepled his fingers, rubbing the end of his nose, before he laced his fingers together and leaned forward on his elbows. “Gentlemen, this artifact requires our earnest investigation. First time there’ve been big enough pieces to work with, I understand.” He cast a sly sideways glance at Thian, quirking one of his eloquent eyebrows. “Do our allies agree?” He turned to Thian.

  “Indeed, sir, they’re forming a volunteer squad to investigate. Do we wish to send representatives?”

  Several hands immediately went up.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. I will want volunteers from Communications, Engineering, Mechanical, Security. Mr. Lyon has to be included as interpreter . . .”

  Vandermeer cleared her throat. “Sir, I believe that won’t be necessary now.”

  “Yes, Ailsah, I know you’ve become quite fluent in ’Dini but Mr. Lyon goes in several capacities. How soon are the ’Dinis assembling, mister?”

  Thian queried Spktm. “Right now. They’re asking for a pre-boarding conference with our teams. They are appointing fifteen specialists from each of their ships: we should supply as many from ours. This will be a big undertaking.”

  “It’s also an immense ship, even with two-thirds of it blown away,” Ashiant interposed.

  “Captain Spktm strongly recommends that we halt at forty spatials to be sure there is no reaction to our presence.”

  “That’s well beyond maximum Hive weapon range,” Ashiant said, surprised.

  “Beyond range of known Hive weapons. Captain Spktm reminds you that this is a new, unknown design.”

  “But it’s dead.”

  “Captain Spktm may be over-cautious, sir, but . . .” Thian wasn’t sure how to phrase the exact wording of the ’Dini’s statement.

  “Yes, yes, I appreciate that this is an unknown quantity but the probe read no life signs and no viable life support systems working.”

  “As far as the probe could tell.” Thian kept his voice neutral, being merely an intermediary, but he could sense that Spktm’s cautionaries were not being well received by the Vadim’s officers.