by Jean Johnson
(Fascinating. We have Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day, even Grandparents’ Day, but not Different Types Of Love Day . . .) She shook her head. (I think I like your idea of celebrating different facets of love throughout the year.)
(Bright Stone . . . if we are a Gestalt . . . Saints, that thing is loud.) Li’eth sighed as the machine shut off for a moment, then switched to jetting hot air over all the dishes to dry them. The noise was reduced to a dull roar during this phase, but still a bit of a roar. (If we are a Gestalt . . . that will complicate things. A holy pairing is a sacred thing if it is proved and acknowledged. You—and I—would be accounted living saints by my people. We would have a great deal of cultural power under normal circumstances. My mother would be pleased at the honor of having a holy-paired son. But . . . culturally, you don’t look like an adult. That would taint the whole experience.)
(Again with the mark-means-maturity thing!) Ja’ki rolled her eyes. Grabbing a cleaning rag, she dampened it and started wiping down the counters while the air jets dried the dishes. (No offense, but from where I stand, that’s just such a . . . a stupid measure of maturity. Maturity has virtually nothing to do with one’s looks, save for biological maturity. Mental and emotional maturity are what matter most. The only way those all pair together is by giving someone enough time to grow up physically, and hopefully over that time span have enough learning experiences to mature themselves mentally and emotionally. But the color of one’s skin, or hair, or eyes, none of that matters.)
(It does to the V’Dan,) Li’eth countered. He quickly held up a hand, sensing her forming mental protests. (I’m not saying you don’t have a point. You do. But to the V’Dan, that’s what maturity means. Jungen marks . . . because as you yourself said, that is usually considered the point at which a youth has lived long enough to develop maturity . . . and once they develop the marks, they are expected to behave as they look. Mature.)
(Impasse,) she stated. (Get out the mop and mop the floor. The walls don’t need to be wiped down today, I think. Li’eth, I cannot change V’Dan culture overnight. I know I can, but not overnight. But don’t even think about asking me to fake marks, like those I’ve seen in your memories. I mean the ones born without the ability to gain any marks, have to in order to be viewed as adults. I won’t do it. I won’t do it on behalf of the billions of Terran Humans who shouldn’t have to do it, just to be treated as adults by your people.)
(Impasse,) he agreed, moving to the supply closet. (I’ll sweep, first. There are some peelings that need to come off the floor before it can be mopped . . . and what my family will say when they find out I’ve learned to sweep and mop like a Fifth Tier janitor, I don’t know.)
(My mother would say, “It’s about time!” She and Father insisted we learn a wide variety of skills so that we could appreciate the career of every person we met. Father says if you don’t understand what a particular task is like, you’re more likely to misjudge how much effort and time it takes and dismiss those who do that work. Every field of work has some importance to it; otherwise, it would not exist and would not need to be done.)
(What, even assassins?) Li’eth asked dryly, dragging the broom across the black tile of the floor. (That’s a field of work I do not think should exist.)
(In certain rare cases, it is easier to assassinate a brutal, ruthless tyrant, sparing the lives of many who would otherwise be lost in open rebellion,) she pointed out. (Though for true change to take place, it is more likely to firmly take place if the people rise up as a group, even if lives are lost along the way. Especially if.)
(You have actually considered such things?) he asked, pausing midsweep to look at her.
(Every psi is required to take an E&E course, Ethics and Expediency. And every would-be government official must also take and pass the E&E course. This is not to say that all psis would make good officials,) Ja’ki allowed, tossing the used rag into the bin that would be taken to the sonic cleaner for cleansing. She fetched another one and started wiping down the flat ceramic cooking surface. (Nor are all officials psychic by any means. But they are required to undertake similar lessons and train in balancing ethics and expediency. As much as we wish to be idealists, sometimes one must balance the one against the other. Though ethical behavior is always preferred.)
(When would it not be preferred?) he asked, resuming his work.
(If someone has a weapon that could destroy a bunch of people, and they are holding those people hostage, ethics says that you should try to save everyone, including the criminal holding them hostage. But that way is risky, for he may be unstable and liable to use his weapon at any moment. Expediency says if you can eliminate him and his threat through killing him, you will save a lot of lives by taking his.) She gave him a wry look over the island counter between them. (It is never an easy choice, but there is almost always a choice.)
(So what does your Ethics and Expediency training have to say about this Gestalt problem?) Li’eth asked next, curious.
She sighed and switched to a coarse scrubbing pad, along with some cleanser from under the sink. (Ethics says that, in acknowledging the Gestalt bond is forming, that it exists, I should step down from being Ambassador so that I do not cast any doubts upon any decisions I may make as Ambassador, which could harm the interrelations of both our peoples. There is a potential for a conflict of interest. Ethics also says that if I step down, removing myself from the equation as it were . . . I will put the Gestalt bond at risk, potentially harming the two of us . . . but only the two of us. Removing myself from being Ambassador means having no more contact with any of you, after all.)
(Not necessarily. What if you stepped down from being Ambassador, but remained on hand to be in the holy pairing with me?) Li’eth suggested.
She shook her head. (It might still be seen as a point of undue influence. Ethics and expediency both say I should do the least harm, which on the surface would seem to be to step down and step away—hurting just the two of us but no one else. And at this point in the Gestalt, we barely even know each other. The damage would probably be mild, and thus bearable.)
(But what if your stepping down and going away causes far more harm? To my people, a holy pairing is just that. Holy. Inviolable,) Li’eth told her. (To rail against it, to tear it apart, is a sin of high magnitude . . . once a pair has been proved to be blessed in holiness, of course. There have been attempted cases of fraud.)
(Score one for the kinetic inergy machines; they confirm or deny use of actual psychic abilities.) Finished with her meticulous scrubbing, she tossed the scouring pad into the bucket and fetched a fresh rag to wipe down the cooking unit. (We don’t have one in quarantine, but a couple could be scrounged up once we’re out to prove/disprove a Gestalt-based ability to lean upon the other person’s psychic abilities.)
(How so?) There was nothing like a machine that could sense such abilities back home. Li’eth knew the communication satellites were of paramount importance, but these “kinetic inergy” machines would also be important, eventually.
(Easy. You put two people in two separate rooms a good kilometer or more apart—since the machines have a limit to the sensitivity of their range—then you have the person who does not normally have that power attempt to do something with it. Like my holokinesis, which you apparently used when trying to show Sonam what you see when you read auras,) Ja’ki pointed out. (If it’s just you developing a new power, only your machine will register any kinetic inergy being used.
(However, if it’s you leaning upon my holokinesis, and I am very carefully doing nothing, then my machine will show a spike at that exact same moment. But again, that has to wait until we’re out of here. MacArthur Station may have a KI machine on board, or it may not, but it’d only have one, and the station itself is not big enough to separate us by enough distance.)
Li’eth could sense a subthought of hers. (But your Psi League facilities do?)
(Yes, down on the planet.) She chucked the last of the rags into the bucket, th
en heaved up the bucket, muttering under her mental breath. (All the advantages of the twenty-third century, and we still have to do so much by hand . . . but at least it gives us something to do while stuck in quarantine . . .)
(Wise planners, to occupy both body and mind. That’s why I’m not objecting to doing physical labor,) Li’eth agreed. (On top of accepting it as my punishment for losing emotional control of my abilities, that is.)
(I know. Getting back to the problem of Gestalt,) Ja’ki sent, disappearing through the doorway to go run the rags and scrubber through the cleaning machine, (the tangle of it lies in the fact that it is potentially politically dangerous for you and me to allow a Gestalt bond to progress between us. It could be personally dangerous not to allow it, or it could be personally dangerous if anyone on either side decides that verbal objections to our bond aren’t vigorous enough and tries to eliminate the side they don’t like.)
(Every time I think your culture is optimistic to the point of naïveté, you assert something highly cynical. You constantly surprise me, Bright Stone,) Li’eth told her.
She sent him a pulse flavored with a heavy sigh. (That’s another thing. My name is Jackie. Jackie, short for Jacaranda, as in the jacaranda flower, bright violet-blue when it’s in bloom, can’t miss it. Not “ja’ki” as in “bright stone.” What in the name of boot polish is a “bright stone,” anyway?)
(Usually it’s a reflective crystal of some sort, most often a type of gemstone that flashes when sunlight reflects off its polished surface, such as a diamond or a quartz crystal,) he admitted. He finished scooping up the debris from his sweeping into the pan, and painstakingly sorted through it, as instructed, to make sure it was all biodegradable. (The others, their personalities don’t match any V’Dan words similar to their names, but you are bright and sunny, yet your ethics are stone-hard. Like a diamond, you are a bright stone. But I am not the only one mismanaging names.)
(Oh?)
(You call me Lieth when you speak aloud. Not Li’eth. You are good with the glottal stops—better than most of your people I’ve met, particularly in formal introductions—but you keep missing a few when speaking casually.) Dumping the detritus into the composting bin, he put the broom and pan away, and moved to wash his hands. (Lieth means “beloved,” while Li’eth—my name—means “Year of Joy.” Not that I mind you calling me “beloved,” but truthfully, we do not know each other well enough to begin calling each other that, even if we do end up as a holy pair. Gestalt pair.)
(Then I apologize for the mispronunciation,) she replied, giving him the mental equivalent of an apologetic bow.
(I said I don’t mind,) he repeated. Fetching the mop—which looked nothing like a V’Dan mop, since this Terran version required special, solution-soaked, felt-like sheets strapped across a flat board thing—he started assembling the parts. (The more I get to know you, the more I like and admire you. Your sense of ethics is very strong, yet it is tempered from time to time by expediency. I’m not sure I could stomach someone who had to be rigidly ethical all the time. If you don’t mind me being blunt.)
(I don’t think I could stomach that, either,) she admitted. (Inflexibility leads to things breaking when pressure is applied. The trick is to spring back as soon as you can and make sure you’re not permanently bent that way.) Ja’ki . . . Jackie sent him an image of herself made out of a metal cutout being pulled back partway, then twanging upright once more.
He chuckled, applying the mop to the floor. (You are definitely not a ja’ging, a “bright spring.” Though I’m sure whatever metal you’d be made from would be both flexible and strong.)
Moving to wash her hands at the sink, she shook her head. (If I were that strong . . . Damn. I have to do it, don’t I?)
( . . . ?) he sent, lifting his head from his work.
(I won’t be going with the rest of you when you leave quarantine and start the tour of the system,) Jackie clarified.
(You won’t?)
She shook her head again. (I cannot. Not and be true to myself. I have to go to the Premiere and . . . and confess that Sonam and I think that you and I are forming a Gestalt. The possible negative consequences have to be acknowledged, as soon as possible. There’s no point in doing it while we’re stuck in quarantine together,) Jackie added, drying her hands. The air jets in the dishwasher had shut off; she crossed to it, pulled out the crate, and started putting away the dishes. (It’s too sensitive to just blare it in a vidchat, which can be hacked. As soon as we’re set free, I have to go down to the capital and discuss the matter in person.)
(As far as uncomfortable tasks go, this one isn’t too bad,) he offered in comfort. (You don’t have to shoot anybody.)
(Just my career. It’s pretty much my everything. I mean, it’s not as if I have a husband or kids to fuss ov . . . oh.) She stopped midstretch, then absently put the bowl in her hands on the higher shelf and sank back down onto her heels. (Oh . . .)
(Oh, what?) Li’eth wondered. Her mental undercurrents were swirling too fast for him to sample accurately.
Physically, she kept her back to him. Mentally . . . he could feel her blushing even if he couldn’t see it, like a warmth against his own skin. (Oh, as in . . . if we are a Gestalt . . . then I could have . . .)
. . . A husband and children.
(Oh.) His own face heated. (That . . . that would be expected of a holy pairing back home, whatever the gender match. That they . . . we . . . would bond emotionally as well as, ah, psychically. Indeed, if the pairing is male/female, then it’s expected that the pair should marry and breed, in the hopes that their children will be born with similar powers . . . and usually they are.)
(Exactly. Further complicating everything. It is possible that we’d merely become the equivalent of best friends, platonic and so forth . . . but I’m heterosexual, and I’m pretty sure you are, too. At least we aren’t in a triad. They’re very rare, but the bond sets within all three at the same time. There’s no third psi in our group.)
(I didn’t know three people could bond,) Li’eth said, distracted by the very idea. (They can?)
(We know of only five Gestalt triads in the history of the Psi League. The last triad died a good eighteen years ago, but I remember reading about it in my classes on psi history. They had volunteered to be constantly biometrically monitored, to try to see if anyone could crack the code on what makes psychic abilities work. They grew old—as everyone does—and one of them had a stroke. A blood vessel popped in his head. The other two, both ladies, each had a heart attack within seconds of him and each other. Then the first fellow had a heart attack a few moments after that . . . and that was that. All three dead, near instantaneously.)
The undercurrent that went with that thought was easier for him to pick up. (I take it most Gestalt pairings tend to die in similar joint ways?)
(If one of the partners is endangered, if it’s from an external source, there have been known cases of one or the other teleporting to their partner, either away from the danger, or toward it. Particularly if it can be stopped by them working together on the scene,) she offered, resuming the unloading of the dishwashing crate. (But . . . yes. If they’ve lived in the Gestalt for several years, the odds go up that when one dies, the other dies within hours, if not minutes—decades of being bonded equals death within mere seconds. Less closely bonded pairs can take days, weeks, or months to pine away without their partner.)
(How sad,) he murmured.
(Theorists propose that, whatever it is within a Human that allows us to tap into kinetic inergy, the brains of two Gestalt-bound psis become entangled on a quantum-like level. I don’t know if your people know about quantum theory, but quantum entanglement means that, no matter how far apart the entangled particles are taken, they remain linked. If you can measure the spin of one, you automatically know what the spin of the other is, and vice versa.)
(We have similar theories,) he reassured her. (But they haven’t been applied to holy powers, obviously. I’m trying to think of an
y stories of how holy pairings have died . . . but mostly the ones that are reported are the ones that die in spectacular ways, defending each other, their companions, their homelands . . . they had external reasons for their deaths.)
(“May you live in interesting times,”) Jackie quipped. (Rumor says it’s an ancient Chinese curse, but it’s actually from England. The nearest equivalent in Chinese is “Better to live as a dog in an era of peace than a man in times of war.”)
(Charming. And appropriate, given how we’re embroiled in a war right now,) Li’eth warned her, mopping in her direction. (The V’Dan, that is . . . and simply by association, you will be, too. Now that the Salik know a separate branch of V’Dan exist, they’ll come looking for you. I don’t think they’ll find you anytime soon, but they’ll come looking, and then you’ll have to be a man—or woman—living in war, instead of a dog living in peace.)
She pulled out the silverware from the bottom of the tray and neatly stepped over his mop without looking at it. (I guess that’s a good thing because I’d much rather lie down with a fellow Human than lie down with a dog . . . and I’m sure you would, too.)
She’d meant it in a lighthearted way, but both of them stilled, suddenly aware of the intimate implications. Of her lying down with him. Cuddling . . . and more. Blushing, Li’eth focused his attention firmly on the floor. The felt pad needed rinsing, so he moved to deal with that, while she sorted the utensils into their spots in the drawers. His task was unpleasant enough, it resonated through their telepathic link, cooling their straying subthoughts. Mostly.