The Terrans

by Jean Johnson

  “Forgive my ignorance, not being a psi, but . . . If you are aware that you are now a biokinetic and a pyrokinetic when you’ve shown no aptitude before now, what is the purpose of the two KI machines?” Callan asked, frowning softly in puzzlement.

  “If Master Sonam can confirm that Li’eth is not using his abilities at the exact moment that I am leaning upon him, but the KI machine still reacts as if his gifts are being triggered, then that is definitive proof that we are in a Gestalt. It will prove I have not spontaneously developed two extra abilities. Conversely, he could test for telekinesis, which Sonam says the prince can already use to the tune of shifting around small screws and bolts, and if I am not using my abilities here on Earth, but the machine registers kinetic inergy activity emanating from me, then it’s double confirmation. He would be leaning on my gifts. If this is merely a display of innate new abilities, there would be no simultaneous confirmation of KI activity at the opposite location.”

  He tilted his head, giving her a dubious look. “You want him to be at Jupiter for this test.”

  “That would be the soonest we could be tested, yes,” Jackie confirmed.

  “Surely the distance involved . . .” he muttered, mulling it over.

  Jackie shook her head. “Distance is irrelevant. The theory is that Gestalt pairings are quantum entangled. Tests performed here on Earth at distances of thousands of kilometers have confirmed that both psychic activity and kinetic inergy emanations take place in both locations simultaneously. Entangled molecular research has been tested at thousands of light-seconds apart, as well as thousands of kilometers. I don’t see why it should be any different for psychic gifts if it is a Gestalt bond.”

  “Except the two of you could be out of range, if you already cannot communicate telepathically,” he pointed out.

  “I said we could not communicate easily, Premiere,” Jackie had to correct him. “And the bond is still in the lightweight stages. If and when it sets, telepathy can work simultaneously—as proved by hyperrelay communication—between Gestalt partners over insystem distances. Astronomical units. Or at least between Earth and Jupiter in previous pairings . . . which is as far as this pairing is being separated. If nothing else, we can try it, and if we receive no confirmation, we can wait until the V’Dan come to Earth and try it again at a more reasonable separation distance—thousands of kilometers instead of thousands of light-seconds, to be absolutely sure one way or another.”

  “If I remember correctly . . .” He lifted a finger and pointed it at her. At her lap, and the hands twisting and fidgeting just above it. “Signs of agitation are also a possible indicator. Yes?”

  Jackie glanced down reflexively. Bits of white tissue speckled her mostly black lap since the colorful flowers rising from the hemline stopped at about knee height. Her hands had not only crumpled the tissue but had essentially shredded it from twisting and worrying the material. If she stood, bits and pieces of mangled facial tissue would scatter over his office carpet. She blinked and looked up at him, remaining carefully in place. “I apologize for the mess. I don’t normally fidget.”

  “You didn’t seem the type to fidget at our last meeting,” he told her.

  “Is there a recycling bin . . . ?” she asked. He pointed to a set of low cabinets with flap-style doors near their tops. Jackie carefully gathered up all the little pieces with her telekinesis. Adding the remaining bits of mangled tissue from her grip, she sent it all wafting to the bin he indicated. “Thank you. Again, my apologies.”

  “For mangling the tissue? Or for mangling your job as our first Ambassador in over a century?” he asked wryly.

  “Yes.” She didn’t clarify. Didn’t need to clarify which, really.

  “If you’re not a Gestalt . . . then this is all just newly found abilities and cautious speculation. Your coming to me to ‘confess’ is the appropriate action to take, with very little harm done. An appropriate, honorable action,” he added. “I could continue to keep you as Ambassador, because your integrity is without par. And if you are in one . . . your honor as a public servant is without question. You have placed the welfare of the United Planets above your personal interests . . . because if you are, I could have you stripped of all rank, authority, and power.”

  “If you did that, sir, it would only reduce any possible accusation of undue influence in either direction. It would not completely remove it, and it would not solve the conundrum of the two of us being a bonded pair. If you ban me from his presence, it is a known fact that parted Gestalt partners suffer emotional difficulties, even at the earliest, lightest levels of bonding. Past a certain threshold, these difficulties can endanger the health and well-being of both partners. And at a certain critical threshold . . . spontaneous teleportation.

  “If you send him back to V’Dan—once we find it,” she allowed, “but send him home without me, there is no telling what would happen. Agitation, teleportation, perhaps even grievous physical harm. Nobody yet knows because the farthest we’ve ever parted a pairing was Earth to Jupiter . . . which is why I knew we could be parted in relative safety for a limited span of time.”

  “The severity of that harm would be difficult to gauge without knowing just how far along in the Gestalt the two of you have grown. You haven’t . . . ?”

  She shook her head. “Not even a physical touch once I realized it was a possibility. Telepathic contact, yes, because there has been an ongoing need to explain unique aspects of each side’s culture. It is the grease needed to keep the gears rolling, rather than risk any bout of ignorance damaging the diplomatic machine.”

  “Yet you risked removing yourself from ‘easy’ telepathic range to come here?” he asked sardonically. “It is good you haven’t taken this anywhere fast or too soon, but you in essence have abandoned your job as a diplomatic envoy.”

  “At this point, they need a tour guide more than they need an Ambassador,” Jackie defended. “They’re busy learning about us, not busy trying to figure out what sort of things we could trade with each other. Besides, Master Sonam did go with them,” she pointed out, flicking a hand skyward. “He is just as adept at delivering contextual thought packets as I am. He’s not the polyglot that I am, but I did give him V’Dan, and he can act as a Terran cultural interpreter.”

  “I am grateful he volunteered for that. It is needed right now,” Callan agreed. “Particularly to smooth over any more possible ‘incidents’ before they can get out of hand. But later on . . . If you were to remain with the group, if we sent you to these people’s home system, even if you weren’t Ambassador at the time, your constant ‘packet sending’ could be construed as undue influence. We don’t know how the V’Dan would react to that.”

  “I know, sir. I am literally reading the thoughts of their leader’s thirdborn offspring,” she agreed grimly. “They don’t know our rules for ethics and integrity. Until they come to understand us and have faith in such things . . .”

  “Yes. They certainly don’t know how closely you in particular follow such rules. Not perfectly—no one is one hundred percent perfect every single day—but closely, yes,” he praised briefly. “Under simpler circumstances, I think I could in good conscience send you with your rank as Ambassador intact . . . except you also do not know how strongly this Gestalt bond could affect your judgment via his influence upon you, not just yours upon him. Nor do we know how much bias they will infer through their own cultural lens on that point. It could be a good thing, it could be a bad thing. We just don’t know.”

  “To play devil’s advocate, sir? On a positive note?” she offered. “If I went as Ambassador and performed properly, responsibly, with honor and integrity intact, it could show them more than mere words that we are who and what we say we are. A display of Terran maturity to counter the lack of fancy marks on our skin. By being up-front about the fact that we know about the Gestalt, yet you—the Terran government—have faith in me to perform my duties honorably and ethically in spite of the Gestalt state, it would show them
stronger than words that we are mature because we act mature.”

  “Devil’s advocate on the downside, it could be seen as an act of hubris, of arrogant belief in your self-control,” the Premiere pointed out, waggling his hand. “It’s a gray area, and it depends very much on how the V’Dan will react. Which, again, is something we simply do not know.”

  “Which is why I am here, trying to figure out all the possible permutations and ramifications, and not making any unilateral decisions, sir,” Jackie told him. “I cannot make this decision on my own. It isn’t my own decision to make, for all that my life may be permanently affected by it, one way or another. More than my own happiness and comfort—or even His Highness’—is on the line, here. The future of the Terran United Planets in the interstellar arena is on the line.

  “I may still barely be able to fit into my original uniform, but I was a soldier ten years ago, I still am a soldier to some degree today, and it goes against my every bit of instinct and training to put the United Planets needlessly at risk.” She looked down at her hands, which were twisting mindlessly together once again, and sighed. Untwining them, she brushed back a few stray wisps of her hair. That aide had worn hers in a stylish, off-the-shoulder cut, low fuss, low muss. Maybe it was time to change her own waist-length mess. Except she didn’t know if Li’eth liked short hair or long—Wrong line of thinking, Jackie. “My opinion is potentially biased and thus potentially compromised.”

  “Except you are aware that it could be compromised, and have taken steps to ensure others are apprised and are able to assist you in making good decisions.” He studied her, falling silent for a long moment. Her hands started to twist together again, drawing his gaze once more. “I can literally see how much this is bothering you.”

  Pulling her fingers apart, Jackie flipped them in a shrug. “I don’t know why my hands are doing this. It could be for any number of reasons.” Reclasping them, she tried to keep them still. “Devil’s advocate number three . . . I could be a positive influence on Terran-V’Dan relations. As could His Highness. The bond would force us by its very nature to get along, to cooperate and seek out understanding and effective compromises from and for each of our respective governments.”

  “You know, we haven’t had to face down more than minor pockets of rebellion and attempted independence for far too many years,” Callan stated out of the blue.

  “. . . Sir?” Jackie asked, confused by the sudden change in subject.

  “There is the question of just how closely aligned Terran and V’Dan interests might become. They apparently have settled several star systems, whereas we have barely begun exploring our nearest stellar neighbors, never mind establishing colonies . . . though it would be a deep relief to have the room to expand, and not have to limit our population growth anymore,” he murmured. “But would they insist upon absorbing us, as a one-system entity? Would we—should we—instead insist that, as we evolved here, we are the parent and they are the child, and consider having them join our government?”

  That made her shake her head, letting out a half laugh. “Oh, I doubt that’d ever happen. They’re very proud of their nearly ten thousand years of history, and their idea of a one-world government, ruled by a specific bloodline, has apparently lasted more or less unbroken for nearly five thousand years. They’re very proud to be monarchists and aristocrats and . . . and reciters of lineages thousands of years long. In comparison, we’re merely a meritocratic republic of common plebeians—I may be wrong, but I don’t think merging the two governments is going to happen the moment we meet up with them.”

  “No, but from what we’ve learned already of their technology, they are in many ways more advanced than us. Merging may be an option for swifter integration of various benefits. It is an option to be considered,” he stated.

  Her fingers were wringing each other again. Jackie stilled them, hope for her chosen career rising a little. “I . . . wouldn’t need to know and consider that possibility if I weren’t going to be the Ambassador . . . would I?”

  Callan shook his head. “I cannot make that decision right now. I agree with you that this is a decision, a situation, that is too important to handle lightly or casually. If you are Gestalt, it would not be good to separate the two of you permanently. The long-term consequences are either a severely depressed or possibly dead Imperial prince—as well as how it would affect you—but we won’t know for a while.

  “For now . . . so as not to cause undue speculation in the population . . . we will assert that you came back to Earth to get in some practice for the Merrie Monarch Festival and to deliver to me a personal evaluation of the V’Dan and the possible impacts of this First Contact situation. Which you will do more formally later in the week to the whole Council,” he told her. “This will be after you have attempted to establish the Gestalt all the way from Jupiter. For that matter, you will undergo a second series of testing when he comes back to Earth, under full Psi League supervision.”

  “Understood, sir. In the meantime, my status is . . . ?” she asked.

  “‘Innocent until proven guilty,’ of course,” he offered with a soft smile. “I see no need at this time to alter your status as our Ambassador. You are still acting with due diligence despite all the possible negative ramifications to yourself and your situation . . . which is all we can ask of each other, as civil servants. We do not expect perfection, but we are expected to at least try with a whole and willing heart.” Rising, Callan offered her his hand. “Thank you for bringing this information to my attention, Ambassador. I look forward to your next report and any revelations it may contain.”

  “I’ll make sure to schedule another meeting before I leave the Council Hall, sir,” Jackie agreed, rising and clasping hands with him. It . . . felt wrong to be touching him. Not because of anything on his side of things; he was an honest, honorable Councilor, with solid reasons behind his being trusted and liked by so many within and without the Council Hall. But because of all this talk of Li’eth and . . . a chain of thoughts that brought up a good question. “Sir, should I let things progress at a natural pace, or attempt to delay the maturation of any bond that may exist?”

  “What does your sense of ethics tell you?” the Premiere asked, arching a brow.

  Jackie sighed, since there was only one answer she could give in good conscience. “Delay it.”

  “And that is why I trust you to be an effective Ambassador. For now.” He gestured toward the door out of his office, indicating their meeting was now over. “Please try to keep up the good work, Jacaranda.”

  “I’ll try, sir,” she promised, though she realized her hands were once again wringing and twisting together.

  CHAPTER 16

  MARCH 3, 2287 C.E.

  NEW LUNNON MINING STATION

  JUPITER, SOL SYSTEM

  Strangers. Surrounded by strangers. Gawking, juvenile-looking strangers. Li’eth sat in the chair indicated by Master Sonam, putting up with the wired cap and the matching forearm bands. Ever since parting company with the Ambassador, he had felt increasingly adrift. Lost. Abandoned in the wilds of this backwater system with its “top-of-the-line” space station that still required rotation to create the illusion of gravity underfoot.

  He had nothing to anchor himself in the alienness of these Terran surroundings. All of the equipment was new; the only impressions he could feel from their past were senses of them being crafted and installed, bland, utilitarian memories. On board the military ship that had brought him and the others here, it was similar, nothing but creation, installation, and spacefaring soldiers going about their daily routines. Nothing felt truly familiar. Nothing felt safe. He didn’t like this sensation creeping into him, that he was adrift with no safety line, no anchor, nothing he knew how to cling to for relief.

  Nearby, a communications unit snapped to life. He couldn’t see the screen comfortably from where he sat, but he could hear the voices. “. . . Sonam, you old son of a psi! How is it you go into retirement and lan
d a cushy, prepaid tour of the system, while I’m still stuck on the ground?”

  The aged monk moved over in front of the screen, smiling warmly at it. “Ah, Jonesy, if we knew how the twists and turns of pure chance could evolve in advance, then it wouldn’t be chance, now would it? And I know you enjoy a lucky gamble once in a while,” the red-clad monk stated. A soft sound—a growl?—came through the speakers. Sonam sighed, a smile in his tone. “And you do still owe me sixty from our last card game, if I remember right . . .”

  “Aren’t you monks supposed to refrain from gambling?” Jonesy—whoever that was, someone male from the sound of the tenor voice—demanded.

  “I was not yet a monk when we last played cards. How is dear Jackie doing?” Sonam added, moving back to the machine that was supposed to monitor Li’eth’s holy powers.

  Jackie? Bright . . . Blue Flower, he corrected himself. He had seen pictures of jacaranda trees in bloom, and they were very lovely. He twisted in his seat, hoping to glimpse her in the monitor, but there was just some dark-skinned male on the screen.

  “She’s already hooked up and has been testing each of her rankings.”

  “Any signs of improvement?”

  “Actually, yes.” Jonesy’s report had the monk straightening from adjusting the controls on the KI machine next to Li’eth. “Her telepathy has strengthened half a rank. Considering her age and her constant, advanced use of it, she shouldn’t have gone up even a tenth of a rank, once past her late twenties.”

  “Half a rank, already?” Sonam murmured, surprise in his voice.

  “What does that mean?” Li’eth asked, worried over the way the two men remarked on these Terran rank things. “I know you rate your abilities based on their kinetic inergy output, but I was told those abilities aren’t completely static. That with time, and training . . .”

  Sonam nodded, checking the fit of the armbands. “Yes, yes, with time and training, you can improve up to four ranks beyond your normal peak—just as you can have muscles of a certain size and strength as a normal Human, but with time and training, turn yourself into a bodybuilder or a master martial artist, all covered in bulging muscles and fast-striking tendons. But, Li’eth, when we speak of that, we speak of those who are like you: untrained or incompletely trained.”