Dreamstorm

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  “I can’t… I don’t…” Jahir trailed off. “Alet.”

  “Lafeyette.”

  Jahir looked up sharply.

  “Either I’m your mentor, and you’re going to do what I tell you to because I know better than you how to walk the path you’re walking,” the Tam-illee said. “Or I’m your friend, and you’re still going to do what I tell you because I can see the mistakes you’re making and I don’t want you to make them.”

  “Sometimes one has to make mistakes to learn,” Jahir breathed.

  “And sometimes, you can save yourself the grief because you already know the lesson.” KindlesFlame’s voice gentled. “Arii. You’ve bruised your brow on this particular wall enough times. Don’t you think?”

  “It does seem familiar,” Jahir answered, voice low. He turned his coffee cup, thinking of his brother’s habit of fidgeting with silverware and surprising himself with how natural it was to mimic him.

  “So. You’ll go home to Vasiht’h and have the talk you’ve been avoiding,” KindlesFlame said. “And over breakfast I’ll get to hear the triumphant and probably funny story of how he had to drag you to the tablet to re-register. Yes?”

  How could his heart feel like breaking, and it be entirely because of love? “Yes.” He glanced at his mentor and said, “This seems a good time to segue into why you are on Veta.”

  KindlesFlame grinned and refreshed his cup. “It does, doesn’t it? You’ll laugh. I was here for a job interview.”

  Jahir straightened. “Do not say it!”

  “Your general hospital needed a new Chief of Staff,” KindlesFlame said. “But I turned it down. It’s not the right fit, not right now anyway. I can see myself being in charge of a hospital, but I’m not prepared to settle down. I’d like to travel a bit, do the conference circuit first.” He grinned. “Then I can ask for more money, anyway.”

  “You were almost Veta’s Chief Physician,” Jahir said, unable to believe it.

  “I did say I was following up on some leads.”

  “But not this one!” Jahir shook his head. “Oh, but it would have been good to work with you, arii.”

  “No reason why we can’t in the future,” KindlesFlame said. “Eventually I’ll want to stay in one place, if only because you can’t go deep while you’re going wide. Sinking into a good challenge… I can see myself needing that in the future. But later.” He chuckled. “I admit it was hard to say no, knowing you’d be here.”

  “Perhaps, then… another time?” Jahir said.

  “I don’t see why not. And in the meantime, I’ll badger you in mail, the way I have been.” KindlesFlame looked at their empty plates. “That was an excellent appetizer. Are their entrees any good?”

  “God and Lady!” Jahir exclaimed. “You could eat more!”

  KindlesFlame grinned. “Well, you did eat one of my scones. What do you expect?” He waved to one of the waitstaff. “Now, back to that thorny hypothetical they posed in the health administration segment…”

  From there, Jahir went home. What else, with such a vow riding him? And the mindline told him that his partner was waiting there; there would be no putting the discussion off, thus. As he walked, he wondered how he would begin it. Sought and discarded any number of openings, found none of them adequate. He was here, confused, grateful, full of regret and joy both. Was that not what it was to be alive?

  In the end, he entered their apartment and set his bag on the stand by the door, and said to the Glaseah sitting at the breakfast table, “It was a New Year’s world, but there was no new beginning. I did not pass the test.”

  Vasiht’h looked up at him. “I figured.”

  So much fretting for nothing. Of course the Glaseah knew. “How did you divine…”

  “You would have said something,” Vasiht’h said. “Even though you hate them, you know I like fusses. When you didn’t bring up the need for a party, or even celebratory ice cream, I knew something went wrong.” He touched his breastbone with a thumb. “In my heart. But I was avoiding looking at it for my own reasons.” He smiled a little, and the mindline softened with resignation and love both. The image that carried was of a much-adored plush rabbit with its stuffing showing from a broken limb.

  “Was that…”

  “Not mine,” Vasiht’h said. “My sister’s. But don’t tell her I told you about it, she might kill me.” He nodded. “We started this whole business with a talk at this table, we might as well finish it here. Though I don’t have any fancy muffins this time.”

  “Bread, though,” Jahir observed, drawing a chair back for himself.

  “Just plain sourdough with butter,” Vasiht’h agreed. “Toasted. Sometimes you want something simple.”

  “And…” Jahir glanced at the mug. “Kerinne?”

  “Café au lait, actually. In keeping with the theme. I was in this amazing bakery and they talked me into all sorts of things you’re going to groan at the sight of.”

  “I do not groan,” Jahir said, but he was smiling now too.

  “Want some?”

  “I have just had scones. The thought of more food is distressing.”

  Vasiht’h huffed a laugh. “Yes, I bet it is. So… you failed. How is that even possible?”

  “It was forfeited when I quit the premises to seek you.”

  Vasiht’h’s hand halted on the way to his mug. “You threw the test to rush after me.”

  “I saw the storm,” Jahir answered, his own anxiety tightening into a knot. “There was news… it was dire… I could not but go?”

  Vasiht’h’s head hung, but the mindline had grown dense with emotions, like blooming flowers, bright and fresh and perfumed with happiness. “You really ran after me like a hero in a romance novel.”

  “I ran after you like someone whose beloved was parted from him, and in mortal danger,” Jahir answered firmly. “There was little romance involved, I assure you.”

  Vasiht’h was laughing now. “Oh, that’s not what Sehvi would say. She’s going to die when she hears this.”

  Jahir considered. “Best tell her about this first, so that you might be spared your own death when she hears about your indiscretion with the stuffed rabbit toy.”

  “And you made a joke too!” Vasiht’h shook his head. “Oh, arii. So, you failed. But you haven’t talked about it at all. Why? Were you just going to… soldier on without sharing it? Let me guess. You didn’t want to upset me by telling me about it, so you haven’t even figured out how to salvage the situation.”

  “KindlesFlame did say you would say something of the sort,” Jahir admitted, wishing now he’d requested something to eat or drink if only to have an excuse to look at the table. He folded his hands together on it instead, ignoring the blatant reminder of the responsibilities his House ring represented. Hiding from the sight of such things did not make them go away. He should have known better by now. And yet: “I love our life.”

  “I do too,” Vasiht’h said. “And I have no leg to stand on here, getting upset about your mental gyrations when I was going through my own ridiculous contortions. Trying to reconcile the fact that I didn’t want a ‘new year’ of my own because I liked what we had. But so afraid to admit to it because it might not look like enough to anyone else, and then I’d have to feel ashamed of being happy in my ‘rut’.”

  Jahir looked up, startled. “Oh, arii. No!”

  “Yes.” Vasiht’h shook his head. “Like I said. Not my finest moment either.” He sighed and smiled. “So where do we go from here? Other than you taking the test again? And no, this time I’m not going with you, so pick whatever place you want as long as it’s soon. I don’t want you wiggling out of it again.”

  “I don’t want…”

  “A different life,” Vasiht’h finished. “Me neither. But that’s all right.” He inhaled and said, “I think… we’re both operating under the fallacy that just because you can do something, you have to. You can get licensed as a healer-assist, but that doesn’t mean you have to change jobs. It c
an be just a thing that you are, and maybe sometimes keep your hand in, but that’s it. I can be…” He laughed. “I can be anything besides a therapist in a committed mindbonding with an alien, but just because I could, doesn’t mean I have to. Because I’m happy with where I am.”

  “Are you truly?” Jahir asked carefully, knowing the answer was almost always more complicated than ‘yes.’

  But Vasiht’h did say, “Yes.” And then chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I won’t fret over things. All the things! But yes, I am happy. I want to keep doing this until we’re both tired of it. And if we never get tired of it, and we’re still doing good with our lives… why do we have to do anything else?”

  Jahir exhaled. “Then… I shall take the test. And we shall continue as we are. Until we must not.” Which, he reflected, was perhaps too odd and therefore revealing a comment, but Vasiht’h answered.

  “Yes.” The Glaseah lifted his eyes. “Funny how we can be so lucky in so many ways and still have so many struggles.”

  “To live is to strive,” Jahir said. “Even in the most idyllic of contexts, there is friction.”

  “And I guess it’s a sign that we’re growing.” Vasiht’h tore off a piece of his toast and pushed it over. “If we were complacent, we’d be all right all the time. Wouldn’t we? But we’re not. We’re asking questions.”

  “One must be satisfied with the answers, if the answers are in fact satisfactory,” Jahir said, accepting the bread.

  “We both have that problem,” Vasiht’h said. “But that’s fine. It just means we can figure it out together.”

  Jahir said, quiet, “We are well?”

  “We are, yes. Both of us.” Vasiht’h nodded. “Maybe not perfect, but… we’re well. As long as you actually take the test and I get to have that party!”

  “I promise,” Jahir said.

  “And what’s this about KindlesFlame putting words in my mouth? You told him about this before you told me!”

  “He ambushed me,” Jahir said ruefully. “In the flesh. I took him to the scone café.”

  “He’s here?”

  “Interviewing for a position at the hospital he turned down.”

  Vasiht’h’s eyes widened. “Wouldn’t that have been something. Huh. I’m almost tempted to go tell him to take it just so we can double-team you when you’re being unnecessarily self-sacrificing.”

  Jahir sighed. “He is well and again capable of doing so across the sector, I pledge it.”

  Vasiht’h chuckled. “I bet. So are we feeding him?”

  “Breakfast tomorrow. At which time I am to report I have already registered for the next exam.”

  “Good. Oh. Mm. Speaking of which.” Vasiht’h tapped his fingertips on the walls of his mug. “I… would like to send my brother to school on our money, if his scholarship doesn’t cover it.”

  “Ah?” Jahir looked up, surprised. “You wish to spend our money?”

  “You don’t mind, do you? He needed a quick jab in the rear to get his head straightened out.” The mindline darkened with exasperation, like a short and grumpy rainstorm. “He’s good in the kitchen, so I sponsored him into a culinary competition that leads to a scholarship opportunity.”

  “You think he has a chance?”

  “I don’t know,” Vasiht’h admitted. “But I really hope so. And if he does…”

  “Your family’s welfare is ours to caretake,” Jahir said gently, extending his sincerity through the mindline like a vow on the tongue. “I would never begrudge the funds.”

  Vasiht’h sighed out. “I knew you wouldn’t.” Tilting his head, he added, “Does that make your family’s welfare ours to caretake, too?”

  Jahir thought of the worlds and time between himself and duty. “Not yet.” When he looked up from the bread, he found Vasiht’h’s eyes waiting. He said again, more definitely, “Not yet.”

  The Glaseah was willing to leave it at that, and he was glad.

  Chapter 21

  “You really did fix my problem,” Sehvi said.

  “I’ve fixed a lot of problems last week,” Vasiht’h answered, plopping on the pillows in front of the screen. He stretched his entire body out, including the wing that had broken and had its vane frayed. Seeing it whole out of the corner of his eye relieved him. Not in a bad way, either… more in a ‘I’m grateful for things I’ve been taking for granted’ way. “I assume in this case you’re talking about Dondi.”

  “Said he was sorry to Pes and everything. Grandly. Not only that, he told our cousin to stop messing around and start paying attention to what they were going to spend the rest of their lives doing, because they were running out of time to make decisions.”

  Vasiht’h’s ears rose. “Goddess! Did he really?”

  “Aunt Sattri is delighted. Now she spends our calls cackling about how Ditreht is rushing around in circles, trying to get his grades up and sweating about his future. Because if Dondi’s straightened out, then the sky is obviously falling and he has to plan for it immediately.”

  Vasiht’h laughed, a lazy, huffing laugh made more difficult by the pillows pressed into his ribcage. “That’s rich. I can’t even imagine!”

  “Me neither.” Sehvi grinned and loomed toward the camera. “You look comfortable. Got everything tidied up on your end finally?”

  “I think so.”

  “And Prince Perfection?”

  Vasiht’h smiled. “Prince Perfection is leaving tomorrow to go re-take his exam.”

  “Oohhhh. So he has to re-take it?”

  The moment he’d been waiting for since his talk with Jahir had arrived. “He failed it the first time to chase after me when he found out I was trapped in the storm.”

  Sehvi’s gasp was dramatic, and involved both her hands flying to her cheeks. “He did not. Just like one of my Nouveau Regency heroes!”

  Vasiht’h started chortling. “Yes. Exactly like. If they’re the type to go dashing after their lovers-in-distress.”

  “You have no idea. I am absolutely going to send you the one I just finished, about the Hinichi duke who falls in love with this rag-and-bone Harat-Shar guy and there’s a crimelord and an unlikely rescue and lots of hot ‘Oh, I must not for we are too far from one another in station, why you do not even have the same accent!’ loving action…”

  Vasiht’h pressed his hand to his eyes. “Can my bank balance take another binge-read of some author’s backlist.”

  “It can apparently handle sending Dondi to the one of the most expensive culinary schools in the Core!”

  “Goddess, is it really?” Vasiht’h’s eyes widened. “I hope he wins!”

  Sehvi snickered. “If he doesn’t, just think of the golden opportunity you’ll have to let your partner buy you extravagant things without objecting to it for once.”

  “I’m still waiting to hear about your first fight with Kovihs.”

  “You’ll be waiting a long time.”

  By tacit mutual consent, neither of them made much of Jahir’s leaving for the exam on his own. Vasiht’h accompanied him to the docks and waved him off, and the mindline held nothing but a hearty cheer Jahir thought a trifle forced, but less so than he’d expected. Neither of them wanted to be parted again so quickly; both of them wanted the task complete. All there was for it was the doing.

  Fortunately, there was an option to sit the exams soon, and not far, nor in any location so exotic as Tsera Nova: Aren’s welcome station was hosting, only a short hop from Starbase Veta. He would be there and back in the three days it took him to complete the test, plus two on either side for the flight. One week, alone. He hated the thought, but knew that he was leaving Vasiht’h in one of the safest places in the Alliance. There would be no more need for dashing rescues worthy of a romance novel. For now, at least. Given that Vasiht’h had committed one, fleeing Seersana for Selnor to deliver him from the consequences of his decision to leave, and now he had returned the favor on Tsera Nova….

  Surely they had used up their quota of harrowing advent
ures. The Alliance, of all places, did not lend itself to perils so grievous, nor tragedies so quotidian as the ones on his homeworld.

  Jahir hadn’t known what to expect of the nomadic Aera’s solar system, but the amount of infrastructure littering every orbit from innermost planet to outermost debris field was staggering. And the constant movement! They practiced traveling, he divined, delighted by the revelation. Even the most conservative clans, who preferred to bide in their home system, could not resist jetting around it. As the passenger liner swept closer, awaiting its docking assignment at Aren’s welcome station, Jahir queried the flexglass window for identification of as many of those distant winking platforms as he could see, and found that they were not only practical—mining platforms, power collection—but recreational as well. At least one proclaimed itself the best diner in-system, and as far as he could tell, it was the only establishment in that particular asteroid.

  The room he’d procured for himself was in the same section of the station as the testing facility, and he dropped his bag on its utilitarian bed before going for a walk, because on the way to the hotel he’d passed such colors and scents that he couldn’t not investigate. Aren’s station was less a network of grim catwalks and dark bulkheads and more a bazaar, and he lost several hours wandering it, astonished that anyone would decide that tents and awnings were properly at home on a station, and agreeing with their decision because it was appealing in every particular. He indulged in a little shopping as well, because the gifting seasons were never far away when one lived at the pace of the Pelted.

  That evening, he committed himself to a desultory review of the material before attending to his mail. Vasiht’h had responded to his report that he had arrived safely with an adjuration that he do well, one Jahir imagined him delivering with an expression of mock sternness. Jahir smiled and moved on to the next, which was another missive from his mother. He sank into the familiar details of estate management as she related them, of this mare in foal or that orchard’s yield, of the lives of their tenants, and the lives of their peers. Only near the end did his mother mention politics, and briefly.