The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  Thinking about that, he nodded slowly. “Then we are in consensus. She gets all the . . . what’s the Terranglo word for it? I want to say sludge work, but that isn’t it.”

  “‘Scutwork’?” she offered. “Which is basically your sludge work, cleaning the sludge filters and other messy, nasty jobs.”

  “Yes, the scutwork jobs,” Li’eth agreed. “Cleaning the filters, mopping up messes, sorting the garbage for composting and recycling, unclogging any drains, all of that,” he decreed, sweeping his hand. “And . . . I should take on some of it, too, for losing my temper and losing my self-control.”

  She opened her mouth . . . hesitated . . . and bit her lip for a long moment. Then nodded. “Doing that would be looked upon with high favor among my people. Taking on personal responsibility is an important part of our culture, these days. Since there isn’t enough ‘sludge work’ for two people to scrub all the filters . . . do you know how to scrub walls and wash dishes?”

  He quirked his brows at her. “Wash walls and dishes?”

  “Yes, by hand, not by machine,” she said.

  Li’eth shook his head. “No. I had no need or time for that in the palaces, and when I went into the military, cadets were punished with physical regimes or sludge cleaning, not kitchen chores. The most I ever did was keep my quarters tidy for inspection.”

  “Then you’re going to learn. I’m going to have you laboring like one of your palace servants,” she teased him.

  Rather than being offended, Li’eth chuckled. “More like palace robots. But if nothing else, it should render me too tired to summon any powers. Unless our priesthood is wrong about too much exercise dulling the holy energies? Compared to your way of training, they’ve been wrong about many other things.”

  “Your priesthood is actually correct about that,” she told him. “The Psi League mandates physical exercise for its trainees for several reasons. Disciplining the body helps discipline the mind, and it exhausts the energies needed to project anything. It may make someone more receptive to incoming information—telepathy, empathy, the ability to read the history of whatever you touch, even precognitive visions—but it reduces the energy to project anything.”

  “You keep mentioning this League, and another organization. You do not gather your psis into one organization to train and watch over them?” Li’eth asked her.

  She shook her head. “We don’t want any one particular system gaining ascendancy—we’ve stories from our past cautioning against . . . well, the phrase is ‘putting all your eggs in one basket.’ With more than one group being responsible, that means no one particular organization can go rogue and attempt to train their psis into an army. The other organizations will have enough psis of their own to go up against them and shut them down. So, when a psi has been proved to have actual powers, you’re given a choice of several different organizations to join, which help train and monitor your abilities to make sure you’re not committing crimes with them.”

  “That . . . makes sense. And is reassuring, even as it makes me reluctantly curious about those stories you mention,” Li’eth said.

  “Well, anyway, the Psi League is the most popular as a single organization because it’s completely secular and doesn’t require any sort of religious belief system, it doesn’t couch things in occluded, mystical terms, and, at the same time, doesn’t deny anyone their choice of faith,” she explained, gesturing vaguely at the air. “The Witan Order accepts all faiths but presumes you have a faith system, so that it can put you into the correct subsect for training. It also requires that you are open-minded enough to accept that others have a right to their own faith systems.

  “While it has as many members as the League, if not a few more—it varies from year to year—the Witan Order has several subsects that do all the training, and you are free to move among them or into and out of the League or the other, lesser organizations. The only requirement is that someone knows you’re a psi, and that some legally recognized group evaluates you once or twice a year to make sure you’re not using your abilities illegally. In fact, I know this one League member who was one of my mentors . . .”

  She trailed off, lost in her thoughts for a moment. Li’eth wanted to reach out to her mind, to share those thoughts since the memories of the man in question brought a soft smile to her lips. He refrained, waiting patiently, and was rewarded with more information aloud.

  “He had a sort of personal epiphany, a moment of realization, that led him to a faith system, and he eventually swapped over to the Witan Order as an instructor—actually, I should include him on the list,” Ja’ki stated, glancing at Li’eth. “I don’t know many of the trainers among the Witans, but he actually may be able to relate things more easily for you because he understands the faith side of things, the religious slant. I’m not the best choice for that.”

  “You don’t have a faith?” Li’eth asked, curious. “At least, that is the impression you give me. I know Maria said she’s a Catholic, and Lars said he’s a Lutheran, and that both say these are subsects to your Christianity faith, whatever that is, but Robert called himself a ‘neoclassical Buddhist meat-lover’ when I asked, and . . . I got lost after that when he attempted to explain.”

  She chuckled at his words. “I’ve noticed both Robert and Lars like to pull little jokes on people . . . though Robert might be serious at the same time. I don’t know. And I do have a spiritual side, but I don’t follow any religion. I’ll honor the gods and goddesses of my mother’s side of the family when dancing the legends of the Hawai’ian hula, or expressing an occasional South Pacific haka.

  “And I respectfully attend the occasional church service to placate my father’s relatives . . . but I am what we call agnostic,” she told him. “I believe something may be out there, a higher power we can only glimpse in the tiniest pieces here and there, but it is something that sentient life as we know it cannot yet fully comprehend. Because of this viewpoint, I can attend religious services of the various cultures I’ve represented as a Councilor, since it’s all just facets of a greater thing. But to my way of thinking, that higher power is so far beyond us, it is unknowable, undefinable by traditional religion, which can only ever clip off a corner and worship what little they can understand. I simply cannot bring myself to put any limits on that higher power.”

  “Because if they focus on only a single corner, they will miss all the other corners that are out there?” Li’eth offered, and received a nod that made her long curls, caught up in a band like his, bounce a little on her shoulder. He wanted to reach over and touch her hair . . . and realized how dangerous that line of thought was. There was a cure for that kind of distraction, too. “Right. Physical exercise for punishment detail. Mopping floors and walls and such.”

  “I need to get that report written, first. I . . . hmm. Brad hasn’t had much to do, other than cleaning the ship and taking pathology samples for the doctor,” Ja’ki mused aloud. “I think I’ll ask him to introduce Shi’ol to the joys of Terran sludge work.”

  “And who will supervise me?” he asked, curious.

  “Lars, Ayinda, Robert, and Ba’oul are going over star charts,” she counted off on her fingers. “Brad had offered to teach V’kol racquetball last I heard, but that could be put off . . .”

  “He did teach us your racquetball sport . . . and beat V’kol and me both, even when we paired against him,” Li’eth confessed, remembering the blond, markless male’s athleticism. “That’s why I needed a shower but didn’t take one earlier this sleep cycle. I knew I’d get sweaty with whatever sport he had in mind.”

  (Don’t think about sweaty men, don’t think about striped, sweaty . . .)

  Li’eth laughed, overhearing that. (Maybe you need some review lessons on self-control, yourself?)

  (Oh hush . . . and yes, I’ll consider it.) Out loud, she said as she stood up, “After racquetball, he usually goes swimming. He’s probably still in the pool. Let’s go set up his oversight, and inform Shi’ol of her puni
shment detail. You will join Shi’ol for now in her punishment detail, so that she understands you both acted wrongly. Once that’s settled, I can leave you to it and get those recommendations to Admiral Nayak.”

  Nodding, Li’eth gestured at the door, letting her take the lead. As far as lawbreaking punishments went, mopping a floor or cleaning sludge filters were mild versions at best.

  CHAPTER 13

  FEBRUARY 7, 2287 C.E.

  “Master Sonam, it’s so good to see you again,” Jackie greeted the third member of the trio that had just stepped through the airlock. She moved forward to embrace the red-clad, wrinkled man, stooping a little because he was shorter than her by several centimeters. (Such a pleasure, my teacher,) she added telepathically. (Thank you for coming up here.)

  (It’s an adventure, and I am still hale enough for a mild one like this,) he added politely, returning the hug with strength despite his age, somewhere in his late seventies. (Plus being a biokinetic didn’t harm matters, I am sure—Dr. Jain is eager for me to pursue things psychically where the pathology of these V’Dan is concerned.) Out loud, he said, “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Jackie dear.”

  (And what does Dr. Du think of you?) Jackie asked

  (She doesn’t have patience for “mental twaddlings,” though she will, of course, accept my findings if there’s a way she can replicate them scientifically.) He grinned at Jackie, brown eyes gleaming with mirth. (I have been trying to convert her to Tibetan Buddhism. Alas, I shall learn the patience of a bodhisattva before I will convert her . . . but I am told it is good for my karma to be patient as I try. Now, introduce me. Which one is my pupil? This is the prince, yes?)

  “Master Sonam, I present His Highness, Li’eth V’Daania,” Jackie introduced, gesturing toward the waiting, burgundy-striped man. “Li’eth, this is Sonam Sherap, a Master Trainer of the Psi League, the Witan Order, and a monk of the Buddhist religion. Their monks wear robes that vary from sect to sect, but are usually some shade of saffron yellow through crimson red, with other shades being less common.”

  Maria, who had just finished greeting the two pathologists, moved over to speak with Jackie. She gave a nod to the monk as she did so. “Greetings, Master Sonam. Major MacKenzie . . . I know we have a good variety of vegetables thanks to the aquaculture bay, but can we sustain a vegetarian diet with the proper ratio of amino acids while in quarantine? Did anyone remember to address that?”

  Sonam smiled and bowed a little in her direction. “Doctor, you are kind to be willing to go to the trouble of not only providing vegetarian meals but healthy meals. I am, however, a Tibetan Buddhist. Our karmic balance is countered by our teachings, our meditations, so it will not be necessary to deviate too much in creating special meals for me. As my meals in quarantine are paid for by the government,” the red-robed monk added lightly, “it is also more of an alms-giving than anything, and thus not prohibited. Nor was it packaged in advance specifically for me, which helps alleviate karmic concern in that direction. I do like vegetables more than meat these days,” he added, patting his red-draped stomach with a chuckle, “but I think it is more a case of my digestive needs as I age.”

  (Dietary restrictions? That sounds like it happens all year long for him,) Li’eth sent to Jackie. (We have some minor religions with similar lifelong constraints back on V’Dan, but in the Sh’nai faith, diet cycles with the seasons as to what is available. With modern agriculture and transportation providing things all year-round, the seasonal foods are therefore merely reserved for special meals, such as holy days, natal celebrations, and such. I would like to know more about this faith of his, that his specific sect doesn’t have such restrictions yet clearly most of the other related subsects do.)

  Sonam eyed the two, one brow quirking upward. (Did he just send something to you?) he inquired. (Telepathically?)

  (I’m sure he’d be willing to discuss religions with you,) Jackie sent to Li’eth, before parsing a separate sending to her former teacher. (Yes, he did. Is he leaking? As the only one here, I haven’t been able to tell. He doesn’t leak to the nongifted, at least.)

  (Yes and no. He leaks a little. It was wise, I think, for you to have called for an expert instructor,) Sonam told her.

  (I am strong, but I do not teach for a living; I know my own limitations,) Jackie promised him. He mock-touched his heart, as if staggered by her confession, along with a pulse of faked shock. (Hush,) she shot back. (I need you to verify he is not yet fully in control of his abilities.)

  (Oh?)

  (We had an incident. I need an expert opinion to place him firmly in the category of—)

  (Firmly in the category of the still as yet untrained, yes. I don’t need to know the details of what happened in order to evaluate him for that. I do need to know the gifts involved,) Sonam reminded her.

  Jackie sighed. (Pyrokinesis, predominantly.)

  (Oh joy. That’s the one that went rogue? Training that one on a space station will be fun,) he sent back, and patted his chest with the fingers of the hand still covering his red-robed sternum. “Well, we had better show me to my quarters. I was informed that there is just enough room for privacy per person?”

  “We’ll still have a couple cabins left over, Master,” Jackie stated aloud. Now that he was a Tibetan monk, the proper term for teacher should have been lama, but as the lessons being sought were not in Buddhism, it didn’t feel right to address him as such. Jackie wasn’t asking him to teach Buddhism to anyone, after all, though he would be free to answer questions on it. “You’ll even have your choice: a view of Earth or a view of space.”

  “I call dibs on Earth,” Dr. Du called out, breaking off her conversation with the other two doctors in the entry cabin just beyond the quarantine airlocks. She shuddered a little, her bony frame quivering for a moment. “I don’t think I could stand looking at the void of space without something at least vaguely familiar in view.”

  “Then I shall concede my rights to an Earthly view,” Sonam stated.

  Jain smacked Du lightly on the shoulder. “He has seniority as an elder, Du. You should let him have the view.”

  “Please, gentles, we have plenty of cabins on the Earth side of the station, enough for one for each of you if need be,” Jackie quickly soothed.

  “Well, I will take a spaceside cabin,” Dr. Jain told her. “I do not need to look at the planet to know it is still there.”

  “As you wish. As soon as you have picked up your things from the sterilizer bins,” Jackie added, nodding to the machinery off to the side, “I can take you to your quarters and get you settled. There will be a drill on the various emergency alarms and procedures in half an hour, which will be directed by Commander Robert Graves. It is mandatory for everyone in quarantine to attend, but you should have at least a little time to settle in, first.”

  She switched to speaking telepathically as the trio moved to gather and pack their things in the carrying bags provided.

  (The prince is doing fairly well at controlling his projection and reception telepathically, as far as I can tell. His other skills will need work, though. You did read the profile I sent?)

  (I cannot help train his auramancy outside the context of biokinetic healing, as that is not one of my skills, but within it, I should be able to give him a solid evaluation, and I know enough of the discipline to guide him in the right direction for self-teaching,) Sonam informed his former pupil. (I should also like to test your telekinetic and holokinetic progression from the days when you were my pupil. How long will this emergency tour last?)

  (Half an hour or so, but right after that, I’ll be eyebrow deep in trying to practice long-distance with the Honolulu University Hula Team. I was supposed to be on the surface, retired from being a Councilor and thus free to put on a joint show during the Merrie Monarch Festival,) she added.

  (Ah, yes, I heard through both my high-ranked friends in the League and the Order grapevines about precognitive visions of you dancing in front of oddly painted strangers . . . and
lo, we have oddly painted strangers among us. I look forward to seeing the performance,) he told her, smiling as he worked to put his few personal belongings, mostly sterilized clothes, into his carry bag. (Any chance we’ll get to eat at a lu’au? I love the raw ahi dish—poke? Silly name, but delicious. And the ground-roasted pork, and the poi with soy sauce and brown sugar on top . . .)

  (Master Sonam? You’re drooling all over my neocortex,) Jackie pointed out, trying not to laugh.

  He chuckled aloud at that, if seemingly to himself.

  FEBRUARY 10, 2287 C.E.

  The instant Jackie felt polite mental tapping for her attention, she opened her inner shields to her old mentor. At the moment, she was sorting through yet more invitations for the “Human Aliens” to come visit various locations around the United Planets. So far, only Mars, the Moon, and Earth had been included. Nayak wanted her to assess the cultural value of taking the V’Dan to one of the mining or research stations farther out in the Sol System.

  (I thought you said he was growing quite skilled in his telepathic control,) Sonam stated without preamble.

  (He clasps mental hands with me almost like you do,) Jackie told him, lifting her gaze from her monitor. (Like a seasoned pro.)

  (He has the fumbling touch of a thirteen-year-old,) Sonam scoffed.

  (I’m telling you the truth; clasping mental hands with him is like clasping hands with a close friend,) she stated.

  (And I am telling you the truth; he hasn’t mastered more than a third of what he’s supposed to be doing.)

  (Maybe . . . maybe he doesn’t like you?) she offered. (Oh, don’t laugh, someone eventually won’t.)

  (True, that high-strung female, Shee-oll, doesn’t like me,) Sonam admitted. (She only likes that Dr. Du, the one with the melanin pigmentation. But this Li’eth does like me. He just has no finesse. But I believe you when you say he does, so I should like to observe the two of you interacting if you have the time.)