The Rowan

by Anne McCaffrey

  ‘I was really messed up, wasn’t I?’ he said in a thoughtful tone as he caught the image in her mind. ‘It’s probably a very good thing that patients don’t see how they look to observers.’

  She hugged him as hard as she could. ‘So, if you don’t object, may I please contrive in my own small way to be of assistance to the beloved planet of your birth?’

  Jeff cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at her. ‘You do mean well. And Makil and the Council are about to give you honorary citizenship for getting this facility working again, so I’ll trust your discretion. Now, since the Tower is functional, how much longer do you think Reidinger is going to allow you a leave of absence?’

  The Rowan smiled beatifically at him. ‘Oh, as long as I can make him believe you’re still recuperating.’

  ‘Oh?’ and Jeff was highly skeptical.

  ‘It’s nice and quiet out here,’ she said, pulling him toward the long bench under the windows, ‘and no-one will knock on the door and then just …’ she halted, hearing the edge in her voice.

  Jeff chuckled understandingly. ‘I thought it was getting a bit much for you – all the Raven togetherness. You have to grow up in such bedlam to be able to ignore it, and you never really had much childhood, did you?’

  ‘Don’t patronize me!’

  ‘Temper, temper!’ And he kissed the corners of her mouth in a way that put all trace of temper out of mind.

  AND JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, YOU WHITE-HAIRED, BUG-EYED ALTAIRIAN LOON …

  An empath with half your range should instantly perceive that I am feeding my nephew his breakfast, she replied equably, as she managed to get another spoonful of thin cereal into Ian’s mouth.

  Jeff, hands cupped under his chin, was closely observing this totally unexpected facet of his lover. Ah! Our master’s voice. Glad it’s directed at you!

  NOW, LISTEN YOU, YOU UNREGENERATE …

  You know I’m immune to flattery, the Rowan replied.

  You’re not immune to contract penalties. And that goes for that culchie whom I sense is in your immediate vicinity. If you and that bondmate of yours are not back at your respective stations by the end of this day – this Earth Day – you will both suffer the maximum deductions for dereliction of duty. And that should put a crimp in this altruistic spending spree of yours, Rowan of Callisto!

  ‘I think he means it,’ Rowan told Jeff, giggling.

  ‘I am snfficiently recovered to shove you back,’ he said ruefully, for the past week had been one of joyful discoveries about each other. Despite busy-ness requiring long days, they had managed to work in tandem now whenever possible. And they had managed to get sufficient sleep at night to work equally hard the next day.

  ‘I’m secure enough now to do my own ’ports,’ she replied, deftly scraping up the residue of cereal around Ian’s mouth and popping it in again. ‘This doesn’t seem to be too arduous a task.’

  The first time, no, Isthia Raven said from another room. By the twelfth, you, too, will be delighted to have volunteers.

  My, what a long ear you have, Granny Raven, Jeff said.

  I can hear with it, too, she added drily. Or are you two so totally engrossed in each other that you can’t tell when you’re speaking or minding it?

  ‘I’ll mind leaving here,’ the Rowan said with a deep sigh, mopping young Ian’s mouth clean. Her brother’s namesake was twice as precious to her for having had the brief care of him. The baby waved his arms vigorously, a deep scowl on his little old man’s face which utterly entranced the Rowan. She lifted him over her shoulder, patting his back.

  ‘Anyone would think you’d been handling babies all your life,’ Jeff remarked with a snort though he regarded his littlest brother with great affection.

  ‘A natural talent,’ was her quick retort. Simultaneously each realized that their inane remarks covered the dismay both felt at the imminent end of this idyll.

  It’s not an end at all, Rowan, Jeff said, his tone infinitely tender and his blue eyes ravishing her with love.

  It’s a separation! she said rebelliously.

  For six days? He raised both arms, to dismiss such a minor parting. Your place or mine? His eyes glinted mischievously.

  I’d prefer to come here, but it might be more politic to remain at Callisto after being away over three weeks.

  The first vacation, may I point out to you, my love, which you’ve had in the ten years you’ve been Callisto Prime!

  Ah, but I never had vacation plans before now! And I suspect from the depths of our Master’s anger, that it had little to do with my absence.

  Oh??

  I may, of course, be doing Reidinger an injustice …

  That’s hardly likely, love, considering the terms of the contract he made me sign – in heart’s blood.

  Just keep everyone at their exercises while I’m gone, Jeff. I know Sarjie’s young but she should be at the mines, learning all she can about metals and mining. She should go to Earth for training. Especially since mining’s Deneb’s main source of income.

  We can’t afford to send her away. She’d hate Terra, Jeff added. We Denebians are real homebodies and don’t like leaving our birthplace.

  You did!

  I, my love, had devious ulterior motives … and besides, I lost the toss. He grimaced in mock horror. However, lest he chastise me by sending me somewhere too remote from Deneb …

  Nothing habitable is remoter than Deneb …

  Checking appropriate times, the Rowan and Jeff decided it was best for her to arrive at the beginning of Callisto’s working day, when shipments would be forwarded from Earth. For the first time, the Rowan could enter her personal capsule without a single vestige of the old inhibiting terror. In fact she was eager for the challenge.

  That’s the girl. And aren’t you going to surprise Reidinger!

  Through him she felt the generator whining up to full power. Jeff had done some fine tuning, though he had been full of pride in how she had effected the initial repairs. Closing off the fierce regret at having to leave him for even six days, the Rowan settled her mind against his and readied herself to exert their mutual gestalt.

  The voyage was accomplished in a mood of high elation, for Jeff followed her all the way back. As she felt the slight jar of her carrier settling back into the cradle it had left twenty standard days before, she felt another of his special phantom caresses.

  ROWAN? Afra’s incredulous shout was accompanied by cheers from every other empathic Talent in the Station.

  Those who could teleported to the landing area. Protocol and privacy was forgotten as she was grabbed, hugged, slapped, and made to feel royally welcomed. She found herself unexpectedly warmed by such a reception and felt color flooding her cheeks.

  ‘We’ll lay on a real celebration later, folks,’ Brian Ackerman said, ‘but we got a heavy morning’s work. Boy, am I glad to see you, Rowan! You’ll just never know!’

  ‘You know,’ she said with a surprised laugh, ‘I’m glad to be back, too!’

  When she reached her Tower, with all the sophisticated technology which the makeshift one on Deneb lacked, she was surprised to see two couches in place. And then turned to meet the T-2s who had replaced her. The rising whine of the generators reminded them all of duty.

  We’ll talk later but you have my deepest gratitude and appreciation, she told Torshan and Saggoner. She realized from a quick ‘look’ that their deep, personal attachment raised their efficiency to a level close to Prime.

  The entire Station knew the difference when the Rowan began to spin outbound materiel in or launched waiting inbound shipments. Deneb’s facilities would need to be quadrupled to match Callisto’s, she thought with the part of her mind that was not needed in these routine shunts. There was so much still to be done there: so little more that would be wise to do without giving offense.

  Finally back at work, are you? demanded Reidinger as she deftly caught a ‘fragile’ shipment directly from him.

  I thought
you’d never notice!

  I’ll have a few private words with you later, girl! he said in a tone that once might have distressed her.

  Deep down inside herself, she chuckled. He’d have those words. In private and in person.

  Then, one by one, the other Primes contacted her with welcoming thoughts. David remarked rather caustically that she had finally found out what it was all about, and did she like it? The Rowan had forgotten how clever he could be. Fortunately Capella had so many complaints about ‘inefficiency’ from Callisto that she didn’t bother with personal remarks. The others were courteously glad to have her back in her Tower and relieved that Jeff Raven was able to resume his own duties. Siglen alone sent no greeting, but the Rowan wasn’t particularly surprised by silence from that quarter. Siglen would not have understood why she’d jeopardize everything to go to a sick man!

  Once outward bound freight had been received, and inward stuff dispatched, there would be a four-hour period in which Jupiter’s bulk still shielded Callisto Station from deep space. As the Rowan figured she could complete her ‘talk’ with Reidinger well within that time frame, she spoke in a tight shaft to Afra.

  I’ve a few things to discuss with Reidinger, old friend, she began. And felt his astonishment. Yes, of course, I’m going to Earth! I can make my points a lot stronger in person. And, it’s about time we met face-to-face.

  Is that wise? Afra asked noncommittally. He had met Reidinger on a number of occasions and was always relieved to escape unscathed.

  He can’t be that bad! He’s got no call to discipline me for responding to an emergency. The Station was covered. I’ve just had a look through the records, and you’ve managed quite nicely without me: Nothing got cracked or spilled and no freight got misdirected. What’s his problem?

  The risk to Callisto Prime, Afra replied, his tone dry and his yellow eyes sardonic.

  He gained a lot more than I risked, she said tartly.

  I know, Afra answered with gentle emphasis.

  The Rowan grinned. I’d like to surprise the old geezer.

  Geezer? Afra sputtered at her impudence.

  You’ve contacts at Earth Prime Headquarters. Can one of them sneak me in without having to announce my arrival?

  Hmmm, that’s not the easiest thing to arrange, you know. Callisto keeps you secure but there’re still a lot of crazies on Earth. Reidinger’s pretty heavily guarded.

  Guarded?

  Guarded!

  But surely a Prime is able to defend himself …

  A waste of energy that could be expended elsewhere on FT&T’s behalf, Afra remarked dryly.

  The Rowan snorted. Well, can you help at all?

  There’s a T-4 I trained with: one of Reidinger’s trouble shooters, a Terran named Gollee Gren. I’ll see if he can oblige …

  Don’t tell him who I am!

  At that Afra laughed. I doubt there’s a single Talent who doesn’t know who you are, my dear Rowan.

  Oh! And when she had absorbed the implications of that, What if I shield tight? And if he’s not expecting the Rowan, why would he know my identity if he can’t read it?

  A point there but you still have to pass Security to get into the FT&T cube. A routine check will reveal your identity.

  If a Prime can’t manage a minor formality like that … The Rowan was dismissive.

  If you want to get in quietly, to surprise Reidinger, it’ll take managing. Let me check with Gren. There was a fairly lengthy pause before Afra came back to her. Well, he’s agreed on my especial request to escort my anonymous young friend as far as he’s able but Security has to be placated. He’ll meet you at the landing entrance.

  The journey was so effortless that the Rowan wondered that self-portation had once seemed so arduous and terrifying. She wondered if there was anything to be done to release Capella or David from that imposed travel fear. She indulged in a projected scene, where she just waltzed into Altair Tower and told Siglen that she had just come in from Callisto Station. The old dear would probably faint.

  She settled her carrier at 14.30 Earth time in one of the single cradles just outside the reception building. She had always known what the main FT&T facility looked like, having shifted carriers, pods, and vessels of all sizes in and out of the great landing field. But standing in the center of it, dwarfed by the immense cube to her right that was the Headquarters building on a field of twenty-square kilometers, gave her the proper perspective.

  Cradles, scarred by long use and rough handling, surrounded her, from the singles and doubles nearest the building to those looming on the edges of the field that could receive the largest freighters, passenger and naval craft. To the east she caught the glint of water. Surrounding the field on its land sides were rank upon rank of buildings, starting with low industrial complexes. Behind them, in seried ranks of varying height and bulk, the business and residential towers of the largest single metropolis of the Central Worlds receded into the distance.

  The Rowan knew from childhood lessons that The City was unbroken along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean and each decade penetrated farther inland. By the turn of the next century, The City would inexorably engulf the entire continent as the western habitations expanded eastward to meet it. What a contrast to Deneb!

  Beneath her feet she could feel the rumble of immense generators, and the wind carried the high pitched whine of hard working turbines. A light sea breeze ruffled her hair, bringing with it the taint of brine. That was almost a welcome change from the metallic stink of air that caught at the back of her throat. Even Callisto’s recycled atmosphere was better than this. She began to cough as the acrid air irritated her throat.

  ‘Hey, where did you sneak in from?’ asked a man in the bright orange of a cargo handler, appearing from behind a rack of single carriers.

  ‘I didn’t sneak in,’ the Rowan replied. ‘I’ve come from Callisto with orders to report to Reidinger.’

  ‘Prime Reidinger to the likes of you,’ he replied with a sneer. He peered at the number of her shell and consulted a wrist-unit. ‘Hey, your carrier’s not listed.’

  ‘T-4 Gollee Gren has been delegated to escort me,’ she replied. So much for Afra’s contention that Callisto Prime was well known.

  ‘Talent Gren? Well, now, we’ll just …’ Suddenly his expression altered to nervous surprise and he straightened, giving her a strange glance. His right hand went to his ear and it was then that the Rowan noticed he was wearing a comdevice. ‘Yes, sir, Talent Gren. A carrier of that ID has arrived. Yes, I’ll direct her.’ With a much altered manner, he pointed toward the FT&T building. ‘You go there. Talent Gren’s waiting for you. And you don’t keep Talents waiting. Not around here you don’t’

  He jerked his head toward the airy shell of concrete and plasglas that extruded from this façade of the vast opaque cube of the Federal Telepathic and Teleportation Agency. From the sides of the great cube she could see transport cables stringing out to the edges of the great portfield and the dewdrop vehicles speeding along them.

  Housed within Earth Prime Station were the administrative and training facilities of Federal Telepath and Teleport, and somewhere inside was Reidinger. The size of the place was daunting. Her whimsical notion to surprise Reidinger would tax her ingenuity. She ought not to have dismissed Afra’s mental reservations so airily. How had Jeff got in to see Rowan? She pressed her lips together: that man could charm his way anywhere in the galaxy. But if he could, so could she.

  The Rowan straightened her spine, rejecting the grandeur and sheer size of Earth Prime Station. Would Reidinger be as grand face-to-face? How truly realistic had that hologram cube been? She squashed notions of inadequacy, and impudence, and walked as briskly as she could, considering the difference in gravity between Callisto and Terra, toward the shell entrance.

  As she neared the entrance, she saw a lone figure waiting by the door, highly visible in the deep crimson suit he wore. Suddenly she wished she had taken time to plan this expedition, for she was in rat
her drab work clothing. So much for impulsive decisions. Perhaps. But she was here on Earth and that was a positive action … and long overdue.

  The central door panel of the plasglas façade whooshed open and the man stepped forward smiling, hand extended. She battened down her shields.

  ‘Good afternoon, Angharad Gwyn.’ The Rowan took a second to recognize her birth name. That was clever of Afra. Had she actually told him or had he accessed that discovery from her mind? Sometimes she wondered if Afra had not improved beyond a T-4. ‘I’m Gollee Gren. Afra of Callisto requested that I escort you to the Prime’s offices.’

  Smiling, she shook the offered hand and deflected the tentative peek which the physical contact allowed. She permitted him to glimpse an inexperienced mind awed by its present surroundings. In return she extracted a good deal more from the T-4’s mind.

  ‘I appreciate your escort, Gollee Gren,’ she said in a breathless manner. ‘I had not realized how massive the installation is.’

  He hesitated, holding her hand longer than the courtesy required, and he frowned slightly. ‘Have we met before?’

  ‘I doubt it. This is my first trip to Earth.’

  ‘I see. Well, let’s get inside, shall we? That air’s bad for the lungs,’ Gren said with an ingratiating smile as he gestured for them to proceed. ‘I’ve always been in Afra’s debt,’ he went on, ‘but I’m not at all sure that I can assist you very much, no matter what Afra may have hinted. Especially today with all that’s happened.’ He led her to a bank of shafts, set in the rear wall, on one side of the main exits. ‘Once we’ve got your Security Clearance,’ and from his mind she neatly picked all she needed to know about that procedure, ‘I can, of course, escort you to the Prime’s office.’

  ‘I’m properly cleared,’ she said and showed him the Top Security Clearance badge which she had just procured for herself. ‘Afra took care of everything.’ She stepped into the first vacant lift.