“You guessed wrong. I’m not in need of wetland clothes. Bring me your superior.”
The boy’s eyes rounded, and he turned to flee. Rayn’s mind held him with a light restraining hold.
“Oh, and, boy—a piece of advice.” Rayn leaned close to the youngster. Never guess.
The last was communicated by Rayn’s telepathic voice directly to the boy’s mind. Rayn released his hold on the boy, who couldn’t find his feet fast enough.
Rayn shook his head and focused again on the merchandise before him, in truth having no inclination to waste time speaking with the lad’s superior. He quickly chose a pair of loose fitting black trousers and a comfortable black shirt with narrow metallic pinstripes of gold, silver, and bronze. His new outfit donned and paid for, Rayn wanted nothing more than a hearty meal and to feel Cyonne’s touch.
He hailed an air taxi, and as the small craft expertly navigated the narrow connecting tunnels of the westing arm, Rayn thought about Cyonne. Would she befriend Dina? He’d never known Cyonne to harbor any particular ill feelings against Glacians, but twenty-four years had passed. And she had a mate. A strong mate could easily influence her thoughts. What was this Saynt-Aage like?
The air taxi no sooner deposited Rayn in front of a narrow four story building than a small, slender woman ran from the portal, her uncommon dark blond hair flapping behind her like a flag rallied by a gust of wind. She halted before him and took one laughing look before launching herself into his arms.
“Oh, Raynga, you’re more handsome than I remember! I’m so glad you’re here,” she breathed in his ear, holding him tightly before she released him to get another good look at him. She reached out to touch his face. “Still the same widow’s peak and golden eyes. Come on in,” Cyonne urged, her hand on his sleeve.
Rayn hesitated. “Is the domono here?” If Saynt-Aage or other family members were at home, he wanted to be prepared.
“Sage? No, just me.”
“Sage. For his wisdom?”
“No, silly. His name is Saynt-Aage, but that’s a mouthful. Everyone calls him Sage. He’s my bond-mate, Rayn.”
“So I gathered. Tell me about him.” They entered the small front room that opened into a larger eating area.
“I hope you’ll open your mind to him. He’s originally from El’jaran, but like you, had been offworld for a number of years. He was deported back here four years ago.” She quickly bade him to settle into a low chair and placed a cup of mint tea before him.
“Deported why? Just for being a ‘dark outworlder’?” Rayn sipped the drink and smiled at the memories the pungent mint stimulated. He closed his eyes and was on Exodus with Dina, alone in Kathedra Kap, a cavern deep in the hidden, heated folds of the hills of the Chayne Gwer . . .
Cyonne hesitated before answering, and something in her silence brought Rayn back to the present. He opened his eyes and saw her mouth drawn into tight, stubborn lines.
“That, and he was a thief. Ryol hates him, but Sage is a good man, Rayn, truly he is.”
Rayn laughed out loud. “I like him already. That Ryol hates him is endorsement enough for me, but my mind would be open to Sage anyway. I care not what he did on other worlds. Cyonne, I’m here now, like Sage, because I was deported. I was an undesirable on a small Synergy colony called Exodus.”
Cyonne lowered her eyes, and the smooth skin of her forehead wrinkled. “Oh. Then you have no more desire to be here than before. Will you try to leave again soon?”
“No. This time is different,” he said softly.
She looked up at him. “Rayn, if you stay, you’ll have to make peace with your brother. That Sage won’t talk to Ryol is hard enough. If you, too, continue the cold war . . .”
“We’ll see. You know I won’t make empty promises. But this time will be different, Cee. I, too, have a mate.”
Her eyes widened into ponds of green. “I knew something about you was different. Why didn’t you say so earlier? Where is she?”
“She’s on her way here now. She’s a Glacian, Cee.”
The furrows reappeared on her brow. “A Glacian?”
Rayn nodded slowly, his eyes riveted on her every facial cast. Cyonne had accepted a thief into her life. Would she accept a Glacian? “Her name is Dina. We met on Exodus.”
The furrows remained. “How could you bond with a Glacian? I didn’t think that was possible. Or did you mean you hadn’t bonded in the B’haratan sense?”
“Oh, I’m bonded, in every sense. I didn’t think it possible either, but she’s a telepath, one of the strongest I’ve ever encountered that wasn’t a dens. She’s an extraordinary woman, Cee. I hope the two of you can be friends.”
A moment passed, and Cyonne’s face relaxed. “I hope so, too. When is she due to arrive? Sage works at the port. I can have him keep a close watch on the progress of her flight for you.”
Rayn was glad to hear that Cyonne was willing to befriend Dina, but he was even more excited to hear about Sage. A possible ally working at the port? It was the best news he’d had all day. Perhaps Sage could give him additional information on the Palladia and Captain Bhrenth that had been missing in the records he’d viewed. “Three months. Is Sage at the port now?”
Cyonne nodded. “I called to him telepathically after I talked to you, so he knows you’re here. He should be here in about three hours.”
Three hours. He hated to wait to talk to Sage, but he and Cyonne had years of catching up to do. She set several dishes before Rayn, and both were silent while Rayn savored the taste of the first hearty meal he’d had since he left Exodus.
His hunger sated, Rayn leaned back in the chair and stretched. “Cee, tell me who governs now. Have the strictures tightened or loosened? What’s the temper of the land? I had a small touch on the way here, and I didn’t like what I felt.”
“Oh, Rayn, there are so many problems. When we were children, there was a fluidity to society that’s completely gone now. We felt no stigma for growing up outside the domes, but now the class stratums are as hard as if they were carved in stone. The violence has increased, too. Wetlanders aren’t welcome in many sections of the domes, and those wetlanders who find themselves in the wrong part of the city usually pay for it, sometimes with their lives.”
Rayn nodded. “I was taken for a wetlander when I left the port wearing my deportation suit. A wet-nosed salesclerk had the ignorance to assume I was one.”
“Actually, the derogatory term ‘wetlander’ has been so much used that it’s actually acceptable now. That’s how bad things have gotten. Sage tells me that most who arrive here on deportation ships are looked upon as wetlanders at best, criminals at worst. Sage was lucky to be sponsored and employed at the port. And we’re even luckier to have this house.” Cyonne drew a deep breath. “We’ve been very fortunate, Rayn. The strictures have tightened considerably as a result of the violence, but it doesn’t seem to help. The Triarchy rules, and they seem to be good men, but the local Council always seems to be in a state of transition.”
Life on B’harata seemingly had not improved since he’d left. “What about interplanetary relations? What’s the feeling toward the Synergy?”
“Well, bad as things are here at home, there’s a pretty strong movement to improve relations with the Synergy. Many B’haratans are tired of being banned. They want to travel and work legally as spacers. They want their freedom. They’re tired of being called ‘dark outworlders.’”
He understood all too well. “So I’m not alone in my feelings. Good. And the Synergy response?”
“There’s resistance, of course, but I think some headway is being made. At least the diplomats are talking to each other.”
He changed the topic. “What about the Glacian community here? Has it grown since I left? How are the Glacians looked upon?”
“I’m not really sure. I
haven’t had any reason to go into the Glacian community.”
He was disappointed in her answer. He’d definitely need to check on the Glacian community as soon as possible. It was important to him that Dina feel comfortable here. B’haratan laws were vastly different than those on Glacia, and this was a male-dominated society. Dina was a strong woman with a mind of her own. He needed to reassure himself that it would all work out. “Tomorrow, then. I’ll go see for myself. Cee, I need a place to stay.”
“We have room for you here, Rayn. I’m sure my mate will welcome you.”
In spite of Rayn’s impatience, the hours passed quickly as they waited for the domono to arrive home. Rayn spoke of his years on Exodus and his adventures with Dina and the Dailjan, the people he’d befriended in the desert. Cyonne was excited to hear that Rayn had actually aided the Interplanetary Investigative Bureau in solving a major series of homicides on the small mining colony.
“Do you realize what a feat you’ve accomplished? A B’haratan, willingly risking his life to aid the Synergy?”
“I did it for Dina, not the Synergy.” Selfish, he knew, but the truth.
“So what? Wait’ll the diplomats hear your story! You’ll have a job with them, guaranteed. You’re just what they’re looking for—a shining example of the mutually beneficial co-existence of B’haratan and Glacian, dens and non-dens.”
Rayn laughed. It was the last thing he wanted. “I don’t want a diplomat’s life of endless galloping across the galaxy. All I want is a stable life with Dina.”
“Is this the Rayn I know? The Rayn who hated it here? The Rayn who yearned for escape for more years than I could count? You and Dina would be perfect together. You could travel and still be together.”
“I came to terms with all those feelings, Cee. I don’t long for escape anymore. And I don’t want to waste time with Dina in hypersleep.”
They both turned toward the front portal as they heard the door slide open. Cyonne jumped out of her chair and ran to the door, where a tall, striking figure filled the entrance. She embraced him, kissed him, then led him to Rayn. They made their introductions.
“Saynt-Aage Z’andarc, domono of this dwelling and Cyonne’s bond-mate. At your service. Call me Sage.”
“Raynga D’anthara, Cyonne’s cousin. At yours. Call me Rayn.”
The greetings, by custom, were brief. Both men had said all that needed to be said.
They appraised each other silently, a prelude to the mind-touch that would follow if the first hurdles were cleared. Sage stood a little taller than did Rayn, and though the hair of both was dark, Sage’s was a true black. Sage’s eyes were green and met those of Rayn with no secrets held there. Rayn nodded, and Sage broke the silence.
“Some brandy, Cyonne. Come, cousin.” Sage nodded toward the small lift, and the two men ascended to the second level, a large, comfortable sitting area filled with low divans covered in pillows.
Cyonne has a great affection for you, Rayn. What brought you back to B’harata after so many years?
Something I share with you. I was unwanted elsewhere.
You were deported?
Cyonne entered the room from the lift and opened a panel to remove a large serving tray from the dumbwaiter. She set the tray down on a low table, poured two brandies from a large decanter, then left.
Yes. From Exodus. Working at the port, you’ve heard of it, of course.
Surely, but I’m surprised. Quite a harsh environment, is it not? Sage lifted the two wide snifters and held one out to Rayn. From Cyg Estia. One of the benefits of working at the port.
One adapts. Rayn took the glass and experienced the tempting liquid with each of his senses before he drank. It was all part of the ritual, and Rayn found a comfort in the small expected gestures he hadn’t known he’d missed all those years away from home. With his eyes closed, he sipped the brandy slowly. For those who can see beyond the heat and barrenness of a created world, the place holds an unspoiled beauty and peace. What world had you chosen?
Eruthros. Hardly a peaceful place. Have you ever been there?
No. I’ve heard that one of its port cities harbors a wild populace.
So it does. The Synergy spreads itself too thin when it tries to maintain every frontier colony. Eruthros is so far out of control that it would take an occupational force to rein it back in. But, as you say, one adapts. There are possibilities in chaos, if not peace.
And what possibilities did you pursue?
I was a brigand. A thief. Did Cyonne tell you? I stole from those who deserved it—smugglers who bought and sold women and children, wastrels too sodden with tap to even know they’d been robbed, con men who had victimized innocents . . . I kept some of what I took. The rest I tried to return to those who had been true victims.
How were you found out?
In the usual way. Betrayal.
I think we have more in common than an intimate knowledge of the inside of a deportation ship.
You may be right. Sage extended his hand toward Rayn, palm and forearm upturned, the sign he was open to Rayn’s mind.
Rayn echoed the supine gesture, his hand reaching for that of the other man, but not quite touching it. He fought to control the sudden burst of emotion that filled him. It had been many years since he’d performed the hot touch with another dens. True, he’d touched Dina’s mind, and she, his, but this was different. Rayn would have been hard pressed to explain it, but it was akin to the difference between the need for water and the need for brandy. Or, as his mother had once told him, the difference between life and living. He wondered if Sage could see the unfurling of emotion in his eyes.
The two sat across from each other and closed their eyes. Rayn stretched out his mind to Sage, proceeding slowly and with the proper decorum for a first time touch. He waited for Sage’s mental guards to drop, then broached the surface of his mind, drawing off the feelings there. He felt honesty first, but that wasn’t unusual. Most dens displayed a carefully constructed facade of honesty at the outer reaches of their mind as a defense mechanism. Only a deeper probe would show if the honesty was real or a ruse.
Rayn next felt a layer of pleasure and sense of well-being that reflected contentment and acceptance in an outward direction. He edged his probe beneath the overlay and touched the reverse side of the well-being. While not entirely false, there was a current that expressed deeper desires than the coating of contentment would have indicated. Strength of will and character powered the current, but Rayn detected no sense of evil or deception. A deeper probe at this point in their relationship would have breached etiquette, so Rayn attenuated his probe and withdrew from Sage’s mind.
The two men opened their eyes, nodded to each other imperceptibly, and reversed roles. Rayn lowered his guards for Sage and felt the wonder of having another being know him truly in a short period of time. Rayn hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d missed interacting with his own kind. He felt an empathy with this man that was extraordinary and wondered if it was possible this man could be his soul-counselor. Closer even than a brother, a soul-counselor was bound by trust and faith, not just accident of birth, and remained so by the test of commitment. It was something the ancients had embraced, when the practice of the m’riri was more revered than the honing of mind tricks.
Sage retracted his probe, and his gaze met Rayn’s. A moment later, Sage extended his hand to Rayn once again. Rayn reached out, clasped the man’s hand, and held it in a strong grip.
“Come downstairs, cousin. Have you eaten?” The ritual now complete, the men could think of other pleasures.
“Several hours ago, when I first arrived.”
Sage laughed. “Then you’re well due for another meal.”
There was no discussion of the mind touch. What had been felt had been felt, and no words could either enhance or disguise what th
e probes had laid bare. The evening passed swiftly in companionable ease, as Rayn told Sage about Dina and their meeting on Exodus. Sage, like Cyonne, told Rayn he would welcome Dina, and he assured him that her Glacian heritage would be no impediment to their friendship.
Hours later, as Rayn prepared for his second night of natural sleep in months, he yearned for tomorrow to come. He needed every bit of information on Dina’s flight that Sage could give him, and he needed to reassure himself that Dina would be able to fit into the Glacian community.
He thought again about Cyonne and Sage and felt a bittersweet joy. Even if relations with his blood brother Ryol couldn’t be mended, Rayn had unexpectedly found a brother in Cyonne’s bond-mate—a man, who, like Rayn, had never been satisfied with the limitations imposed by the strictures and ordered living of B’haratan society. As comforting as many of the rituals were to perform, Rayn sensed a yearning in Sage that wouldn’t be answered by his job at the port or perhaps even by his comfortable home life with Cyonne. Rayn had felt the same longings, and they had prompted both men to leave B’harata long ago to search for their answers elsewhere.
Rayn had told Cyonne he’d come to grips with his longings, but had he? Could he truly be happy with Dina here, or would he be as Sage was, outwardly content—with all a man could wish for—but inwardly burning for more?
Chapter Three
Flight
“WELL, HELLFIRE, the next moments will tell. If the long range sensors don’t pick up that mission ship by then, we should be safe.”
The stun was starting to wear off, and Dina could turn her head a little to see the man sitting next to her. His bronze hair was damp where it came in contact with his skin and lay plastered to his forehead in curved strands dark with sweat. She studied his profile as she tested her muscles and limbs, waiting anxiously for the moment she once again had control of her body and voice.
He had a strong chin and jaw line. Long sideburns framed prominent cheekbones, and behind his ears his shoulder length hair covered his neck. His eyes never left the instrument panel and shifted continuously between the sensor displays and the time display.
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