She was touched to learn that Gerolaman had saved those furnishings she had not had sent on to Callisto. Despite fresh paint and sparsely furnished rooms, the Rowan spent a few uneasy nights before she settled in.
You’re sure you don’t want anything from here? Jeff asked. I can ship you anything you want.
I’d rather see you enjoying them, Jeff, she said in a wistful tone.
Oh, I do! Though it’s your Station equipment that I really covet! He imagined himself, rubbing his hands, a caricature of a greedy expression and an unctuous grin.
Don’t bother. Covet Altair when you get here. Though anything would be an improvement on what you made do with on Deneb. HOW you managed so much with that one puny little generator, I’ll never know. Reidinger doesn’t realize just how powerful you are!
Me? There was such genuine surprise in Jeff’s tone that the Rowan stifled a flash of envy. Her lover really didn’t appreciate his unique strength.
The way Reidinger referred to Jeff in such uncomplimentary tones, the old man evidently hadn’t realized Jeff’s full potential. Odd that Reidinger, usually so quick in matters of Talent, should have missed it. He’d been in the mind merge, too. Or had he simply assumed that the merge had made Jeff Raven so omnipotent?
Yes, you, love. You’re a Prime and a half. I realize it if no-one else does. But don’t let any one else realize it. Not yet, at any rate.
Which reminds me: it’s a good thing I’ve got Afra and Brian coaching me on all that FT&T protocol nonsense … The Rowan grinned at his disgust: Jeff found those nuances and niceties the hardest part of his new duties. Deneb was too young, raw, and struggling a colony to waste time on conventions or unnecessary priorities of rank and precedence. Otherwise I’d have made a right drone-brain of myself!
May I live to see the day you’re really droned! The Rowan knew from a chance comment of Afra’s that the Callisto crew found him a lot easier to work with than she. He had assimilated procedures and the subtleties of dealing with freight and passenger captains as if he’d been trained as Prime since his early teens. He was adapting more easily to Callisto than she was to the greater responsibilities of Altair. But then that ineffable Raven charm was a considerable asset.
Are you coming home this weekend?
I really shouldn’t. I’m still settling in. The Rowan remembered with a twinge of conscience the bruising schedule that Siglen had maintained.
That got her dead, didn’t it? Jeff remarked, reading easily into the more private areas of her mind. Come to think of it, it would be more educational for me to visit Altair. Reidinger is so hot on extending my abilities and horizons, and Jeff chuckled with pure malice, I’m only too willing to oblige. Besides, this weekend, I have a whole big thirty hours to ‘rest’ unless I’ve misread Callisto’s orbit.
He hadn’t and arrived just as she told Gerolaman to turn off the generators. He did a repeat of his act at Callisto Station, only this time the Rowan listened in. Just to see how he managed to charm so many people so completely in so short a time. He imaged her as a tiny mascot tucked over his ear as he talked Gerolaman into a buoyant mood. He was nearly as fast charming both Bastian and Maharanjani, despite the fact that they had recognized him as heavy Talent and suspected his true identity.
When she heard him meekly admit that the Altairian Prime had sent for him, she responded with a mocking laugh that preceded her into the main office.
‘And if you believe everything a Denebian tells you,’ she said as she entered, ‘I’m thankful there’s only one in FT&T.’
When she saw Maharanjani blush furiously, she knew the woman had caught some of the very vivid, naughty imagery which was Jeff’s response to that insult.
‘So you’re Deneb’s Prime?’ Gerolaman asked, too bemused by the Raven charisma to take offense at the little charade.
‘Callisto’s,’ Jeff said with a little bow. ‘I take whatever leavings that drop from this one’s fair hands.’ His blue eyes were glinting with such mischief that the stationmaster chuckled. ‘Can I help you clear up any last little chores, Rowan?’ he asked, all politeness as he gathered her proprietarially under his arm.
‘I do believe,’ and she announced magnanimously, ‘that our work day is finished. Altair will resume operations in thirty-two hours. Enjoy your respite.’ They exited, leaving the Station crew bemused by their vivid delight in each other.
Halfway through the next day, the Rowan asked Jeff to accompany her. He knew instantly where she meant to go and kissed her gently on the cheek, compassionately supporting her.
At their destination, the smell of the minta, heavy in the air, made the Rowan shudder with memory.
‘Rather a remarkable odor. Hard to forget.’ Jeff’s nostrils flared at the reek.
In the quarter of a century that had passed since the devastating mudslide, minta had grown to formidable size on the mud-filled valley that had once been the site of the Rowan Mining camp. She found nothing to recall here, yet somewhere, fifty meters below where they stood, Angharad Gwyn had lived for three years. Though Jeff had fractured the mind block, she remembered little more than her name and an impression of faces peering down at her, no sharp details at all, though she knew some of the faces had to be her mother, father, and brother. She remembered the rag rug on which she had often played in front of a screened fireplace. And the permeating stench of minta.
‘Not much truly memorable happens to a child of three.’
‘Unless she gets very unlucky,’ Jeff said gently. ‘Where did they finally locate you?’ Jeff asked, knowing this return had to be played out in its entirety.
She took him down to the Oshoni valley, to the ledge where her rescuers had landed. The little hopper had long gone to scrap. The tongue of mud had dried in the ensuing years and was much eroded by rain, sun, and wind. She had a more vivid, if brief, memory of her release from the little broached hopper.
‘There should be something more than this,’ she murmured, unable to express her unease on any level. ‘I don’t even remember more of that awful journey than the rolling and bumping and then I was knocked unconscious.’
‘You were lucky in that,’ Jeff said, trying to fathom the nebulous disquiet which she could not express. ‘Coming to, with mud oozing in on you, scared, cold, hungry, and thirsty and no-one to reassure you was surely the ultimate horror for a three-year-old child. But that’s over and done with. Long done with,’ and he put his arms around her, resting his chin on her silvery hair. ‘I don’t know what you were hoping to see, or find here, love,’ he added in a caressing tone, his mind soothing against her frustration. ‘The miracle is that you emerged alive and had a future which no-one else in the Rowan Mining camp did. Don’t keep looking at the past: that can’t be changed.’
‘I checked with Immigration, you know,’ she said, still depressed. ‘There were three families with the same surname, an older couple and their two sons and wives, so I still have a choice. The Rowan Mining Company was only too willing to open up their records for the Prime,’ and she muttered bleakly. ‘I could be the daughter of Ewain and Morag Gwyn or Matt and Ann Gwyn. Both Ewain and Matt were mining engineers and the occupations of their wives was not given. So, although I do remember that my mother was a teacher, I still don’t know if she was Ann or Morag.’
‘Does it matter very much, love?’ Jeff tipped her head up to gaze with the intense fondness that his blue eyes could reflect.
‘I don’t know why it should since I know a lot more about my background now than I ever have, but it does. Especially when I see – and envy – your big family.’
Jeff threw back his head and laughed aloud, the sound spun away on the wind that soughed down the valley. ‘Didn’t a large family put you off back on Deneb?’
‘You Ravens take getting used to,’ she admitted, burrowing into his shoulder. ‘I want as many children as I can have.’
‘That’s one way of redressing the balance,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘I also want
them to know as much about my side of the family as they do about yours.’
‘Don’t tell me you intend waiting until you do?’ Jeff pretended dismay.
‘I can’t.’ And she opened her mind to reveal what she was only beginning to suspect.
‘Rowan!’ Then he whirled her about, his mind reverberating with his elation.
Easy on me! I’m having enough trouble with vertigo without you spinning me about like a wheel. But she clung to him and grinned at the effect of her marvelous secret.
When he deposited her gently to the ground again, he pressed her as close to him as possible, and she could feel his mind trying to reach the new life in her womb.
‘Not yet, dear,’ she said in gentle amusement. ‘At a bare three weeks, it’s no better than a tadpole.’
He held her from him with mock dismay. ‘My son, the tadpole.’
‘We don’t know “son” yet awhile. Be patient!’
‘I don’t feel like being patient.’
‘Mankind’s been able to do a lot of things, but no Talent has ever been able to speed up gestation.’
‘My son,’ Jeff insisted, his eyes shining as he looked to the future, ‘the new Deneb Prime!’
‘Give the child a break!’ Rowan protested.
‘How else are we going to get a Prime on Deneb unless we produce one between us!’
The Rowan’s mood altered abruptly and she said in a querulous voice, ‘That’s exactly what Reidinger’s been counting on. Damn him. I hate to find myself doing exactly what he wants.’
‘Aren’t you happy for yourself, love?’ And Jeff turned her face up to his. ‘I am!’
‘Yes, I am.’ But in the deepest part of her, something was not so certain.
‘Your own mother says that she never heard of a kinetic having trouble during pregnancy,’ the Rowan said heatedly, trying not to let her anger get out of hand. Jeff didn’t deserve her temper, even if his attitude was infuriating her. ‘She says that you’re behaving exactly the way your father did for your oldest brother, proprietary, protective, paternal and a pain in the neck!’
‘And I shouldn’t be worried about you?’ Jeff demanded, pacing her room in Altair Tower. ‘You’re rail thin, you work long, hard hours, and you don’t really feel comfortable taking a day off to get the rest and relaxation you need right now.’
‘You saw the food I put away at dinner? You know I’ve always done just fine on four hours’ sleep. And I do take a whole day off … you won’t let me do anything else.’
Jeff halted midstride, fists planted against his hips: he cocked his head and that sudden marvelous smile of his erased the glower. Why on earth are we fighting with each other? And he held out his arms.
‘I don’t know,’ and she gratefully entered his embrace, laying her cheek against his chest. As he usually did, he tucked her head under his chin, one hand gently ruffling her hair. ‘Except you suddenly won’t let me go on as usual just because I’m five months’ pregnant. And the baby tells me he’s fine.’
‘You’re both precious to me, you see,’ he said, his intense feelings vibrating through her mind. ‘I’m new at this fatherhood game.’
‘With your mother, aunts and sisters shelling babies like peas?’
This time it’s my heart’s darling who’s gestating and that adds a totally new perspective. D’you know they’re taking bets on the date Reidinger finds out?
‘Who’s doing a thing like that?’ The Rowan was outraged. ‘How did they find out?’
Jeff threw his head back, laughing uninhibitedly. ‘My darling, you haven’t really looked at yourself in a mirror, have you? You positively glow. And besides, that baby’s loud. Maharanjani heard him, I’m sure, which means Bastian does, too. Gerolaman smiles fondly at you when you don’t notice it. Most of the other Tower staff have suspicions, especially the way you’re eating. And Afra asked me point-blank when you’re due.’
The Rowan made a face. ‘Trust Afra to know.’
‘Are you certain he’s only a T-4? And were you aware that he has always loved you?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a deep sigh. ‘I’m very fond of Afra: I trust him at the deepest level but …’ She fell silent for a long moment.‘If you hadn’t made yourself known …’
‘My timing has always been superb,’ Jeff replied in a tone of ineffable superiority which dissolved into one of his infectious chuckles. ‘You could have done a lot worse than Afra.’ His embrace assured her that Afra had never had a chance.
‘Do let me come to Callisto next week. I haven’t been back since you took over.’
‘You don’t trust me with your ratty old dome?’
‘You’re dodging, Raven,’ she said with some heat, trying to wriggle free of his grasp. ‘It’s my body that’s pregnant, not my head – if I may hand your own words back to you – and my head is what gets me from Altair to Callisto. It took me long enough to know I could travel: don’t restrict me.’
‘Our child is very precious to me, Rowan,’ Jeff said firmly. ‘How can you risk him?’
‘I don’t see any risk involved! Oh, you can be infuriating.’
‘I’ll make one more point, dear heart. On Altair, Reidinger rarely needs to contact you. On Callisto, he will certainly exchange courtesies …’
‘How will he know I’m there if we don’t tell him?’
Jeff cleared his throat, amused. ‘I remember once suggesting that I could manage Reidinger. I take that back. To the nth power. That man knows everything about everyone connected to FT&T. He’ll know you’re there and once he establishes contact, he’ll know you’re pregnant. When he knows that, he’s not going to let you go anywhere.’
‘Nonsense!’
‘So be it!’
And it was. Within an hour of her arrival at Callisto, Reidinger was in touch with her.
‘Now, listen here, Rowan, it’s one thing for that ass-eared Denebian to ricochet about the stars like a …’
Aware of the contact, Jeff had covered his face to conceal his ‘I told you so’ grin. As Reidinger’s voice broke off, Jeff raised his hand and began ticking off seconds with his fingers. He had just added the fourth when Reidinger came back.
YOU’RE PREGNANT? And you RISKED yourself ’porting from Altair? Shock, horror, and fury reverberated so violently in her mind that the Rowan exclaimed.
Reidinger! Jeff’s stern voice cut through even as he jumped from his chair to put protective arms about his shivering mate. Ease up!
BY ALL THE HOLIES, RAVEN, I thought you’d have more sense! How COULD you permit such a risk?
No risk was involved, Reidinger, the Rowan snapped, furious that Reidinger could startle her so badly. I’m quite capable …
CAPABLE? You’re no more capable …
That is quite enough of that, Reidinger, Jeff intervened in a tone that halted the Earth Prime mid-fume. The Rowan’s in excellent health and the pregnancy is proceeding normally. Not that that is YOUR business.
It is MY business if a Prime jeopardizes herself …
Especially one who can breed for you and FT&T! the Rowan angrily shot back at him. Well, I’m NOT breeding for you and FT&T. This is between Jeff Raven and me. There’s nothing in my contract that says FT&T controls the produce of my womb! Get that straight, Reidinger. My son is not automatically indentured to FT&T.
A long pause. A son? You know that already? Something akin to awe replaced the bluster. It wasn’t just that Reidinger had abruptly discarded anger as a useless tool against the partners he was trying to dominate. It was something more but what eluded the Rowan.
Yes, and the Rowan, too, reduced her tone to the conversational. She didn’t really want Reidinger angry with her. Or with Jeff.
You’re in contact with him? The need to know came across as a painful urgency.
Jeff raised his eyebrows in surprise at the near plea.
Five months into the pregnancy, we both are, Jeff answered when he felt the Rowan was spinning out the silence too long.
&n
bsp; Why did you tell him that? she said in a private shaft at him. He doesn’t deserve it.
We’ve had our fun with him, Rowan. I’ve been listening on another level. Reidinger’s a tired, worried old man and you’ve just given him something to hope for at a time when he needs it.
What does he need hope for?
I don’t know, and Jeff was baffled. To Reidinger he said, It’s a nebulous contact, of course, at this stage of fetal development …
And what do you know of fetal development? the Rowan asked again on the private level.
Jeff grinned at her. I didn’t have six sisters without picking up some dribs and drabs of obstetrics!
Suddenly both realized that Reidinger had broken off contact during their swift mental exchanges.
‘Well, that was sudden!’ the Rowan said, piqued.
Jeff chuckled. ‘We gave the old boy something to mull over.’
The Rowan let out a long sigh then. ‘I’m glad it was a short inquisition. Now, whose turn is it to cook?’
‘Ah-ha, I decided neither of us would waste time on mundane chores so scan the list of viands made ready for your arrival!’ He tapped up a menu which used such an elegant archaic script that the Rowan had trouble deciphering it.
‘I could probably eat all of it!’
‘And grow to Siglen’s size over the next few months? I won’t permit it,’ and with the foolery that followed, it was nearly an hour before they returned to the menu again.
They were sitting in front of the artificial fire which was, as Jeff reluctantly admitted, a very good simulation, when the comunit gave a discreet burp and tripped the green flash all over the house.
The Rowan Page 24