Crystal Healer

by Viehl, S. L.

  I stayed in the office and thought about the Skartesh’s words and behavior until Squilyp came in.

  “Jylyj told me that he refused your request, and then suddenly developed a headache that prevented him from finishing out his shift,” the Omorr said. “Either your headache is contagious, or both of you are lying to me.”

  “If I explain all this, you will have the headache,” I warned him. “What do you know about Jylyj?”

  “Why should I answer your questions when you will not answer mine?” Squilyp countered.

  “Something about him feels . . . wrong.”

  “It cannot be his skills as a healer,” the Omorr assured me. “He’s the finest resident I’ve ever supervised. His work is faultless.”

  “I am not questioning his abilities.” I did, however, want to know more about his past, and who had been a part of it. “Can you acquire copies of Jylyj’s personnel and transfer data, and send them to my quarters?”

  “I can.” Squilyp made an impatient gesture. “I will still need a reason why.”

  “I think Jylyj may have known Cherijo.” And I did not want to talk more about that possibility until I reviewed his records. “I must go now.”

  “I want to know whatever you find out,” the Omorr called after me.

  I left the medical facility to return to the Torin pavilion and face my next task: telling Marel that her father and I were once more leaving her behind on Joren. So engrossed was I in sorting out how I would explain the necessity of the separation to our daughter that I did not see the resident waiting outside for me until I nearly walked into him.

  “Oh. Your pardon.” I stepped back, dropped my gaze, and made to go around him.

  Jylyj stepped into my path. This close, he towered over me. “I must ask forgiveness for my discourtesy to you earlier, Healer Jarn.”

  “Why?” Puzzled now, I regarded him. When he did not reply, I said, “Resident, I may appear Terran, but I was born on a world where males subjugate females. They do not offer apologies to them. Why should you?”

  “Wherever your homeworld, you are not a Skartesh female.” He forced himself to meet my gaze. “It was rude to treat you as such. I am sorry.”

  I felt as uncomfortable as he did now. “Apology accepted.”

  He wasn’t finished. “My beliefs require me to make amends. If you are still willing to have me serve on the crew, I will join your expedition.”

  Astonishment left me mute until I realized he was waiting for a response. “That seems a great deal of trouble to go to when you have already apologized.”

  “We Skartesh have very specific codes of behavior,” he explained. “The only alternative to granting your request would be to prostrate myself in ritual contrition. It involves providing a period of personal servitude, fasting for several days, and shaving off all of my mane.”

  The mental image his confession provoked made me press my lips together. “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

  “Proper contrition rarely is.”

  I looked at him, trying to discern a real motive. His features gave nothing away. “Very well, I accept your offer, and will inform the Senior Healer and make the arrangements. I thank you, Doctor.”

  “I prefer to be called Jylyj,” he said, rather stiffly. “Do you still wish to be addressed as Jarn?” When I nodded, he inclined his head. “Until we meet again, Jarn.” He strode away.

  Five

  Male laughter greeted me as I entered my quarters at the pavilion. Inside I saw our friends Qonja and Hawk sitting on the floor with Marel and playing a game of chase the string with the cats.

  Reever met me at the door panel and took my hands in his. “You are late.” Through the link his touch established, he added, I have warned them that Xonea is monitoring us.

  “Forgive me, but I had to speak with Squilyp’s resident.” I kissed him. How did you manage to do that?

  “You might have signaled.” He took Marel’s school datapad from his tunic pocket and, using his body to shield it from the drone monitors, typed carefully on it before he cleared the screen.

  Hawk, the crossbreed avatar-Terran who had helped rescue Cherijo after Joseph Grey Veil had abducted her and taken her back to Terra, appeared very tanned and healthy, as if he had been spending a great deal of time working outdoors. The wide, brown-feathered wings he had once concealed by pretending to be a hunchback now lay folded beneath his broad shoulders.

  “Jarn.” Hawk came to envelop me in his arms and wings for a fond embrace. “It is good to see you.”

  I hugged him back before exchanging a warm gesture of greeting with Qonja, Hawk’s bondmate. The Jorenian male also looked quite fit and happy.

  “I’m glad to see you, but surprised, too,” I told Qonja, and turned to touch my brow to his in the Jorenian manner of greeting. “I thought Reever said that you were dwelling with the Kalea now.”

  “We were. As soon as we received word of your return, we thought it a prudent time to pay a visit.” Qonja indicated some beautifully woven Jorenian baskets on our dining table. “We brought some of Galena Kalea’s morning breads, which are finer than any I have ever tasted, including those of my former ClanMother.” A flicker of sadness crossed his handsome face before he added, “Hawk has a new dish he wishes you to try, as well. What say we share a meal?”

  I glanced at Reever, who nodded. “I think we would all enjoy that very much.”

  Over an enormous meal of breads and a tasty stew Hawk prepared from spicy native roots and blossoms, we spoke of mutual friends and recent events on Joren. Qonja and Hawk did not ask about Trellus, and Reever and I did not speak of the colony or our upcoming expedition. For the most part, we listened to our daughter chatter on about her friends and schoolwork, and some of the sights she had seen while traveling with Salo and Darea. Then Fasala arrived to take Marel to an evening gathering for the HouseClan’s children, leaving the four of us alone. I prepared tea for everyone and then sat down with the men.

  “That was a fine dish, Hawk,” I said, “and if you will program it in our prep unit, I will be most grateful. But did you really come all this way to prepare a new dish for us?”

  “Not exactly.” Hawk looked at his bondmate.

  Qonja took his hand as his expression turned solemn. “We have news, unhappy as it is. While you were away, Hawk and I petitioned the Ruling Council to recognize our bond and overturn the repudiation from my HouseClan. They have refused.”

  Hawk and Qonja were both male, and under the present law were prohibited from Choosing each other as bondmates. The fact that they had done so, and had gone so far as to openly declare their bond in front of Jorenian witnesses, had caused Qonja to be repudiated by his natal kin, HouseClan Adan.

  “So the council is siding with the Adan,” Reever said. “You must have expected that.”

  Qonja nodded. “We had hoped, of course, that they would break with tradition and rule in our favor, but we were not startled when they did not. Our oldest customs and laws govern matters of Choice. It will take more than one petition to effect changes.”

  “Can you petition them again?” I was a member of the council; surely I could do something about this.

  “It would not be advisable. As it is, our presence on Joren is only tolerated out of respect for my former ClanFather,” Qonja admitted. “A second petition might provoke the council into taking more aggressive action, such as rescinding my citizenship and residential status. If that happens, Hawk and I will both be deported.”

  “I have tried to convince him to revoke our bond,” Hawk said, his unhappiness plain. “It would placate the council and the Adan, and we can still be together, if we are discreet.”

  Qonja kissed the back of Hawk’s hand. “I will never hide my honor for you, evlanar.” With his free hand he made a careless gesture. “It matters not. Even now, word of our bond is spreading throughout the HouseClans. The customs and laws regulating Choice has been questioned for some time by younger Jorenians. Despite the
beliefs of my people, it would seem that not everyone who Chooses wishes to procreate.”

  “Such changes often take a very long time to happen, especially among sexually repressed species,” Reever said. “What do the Kalea say about this?”

  “Like me, they are crossbreeds,” Hawk said, “and the ClanLeaders, Jakol and Sajora Kalea, have openly accepted our bond. They even accompanied us before the council to show their support for our petition. But if the council decides to take further action against us, such support could also result in serious repercussions for the Kalea. Some of the more conservative Adan have spoken of having HouseClan Kalea declared lawless and officially disbanded for offering us shelter.”

  “Which we cannot allow to happen to our friends, not after all they have done for us,” Qonja added. “Until the law changes, Hawk and I feel we should make our home away from Joren.”

  “Terra will not grant you asylum or residential status,” Reever said. “Where will you go?”

  “We would prefer to find an open and tolerant multispecies colony, like the one established on Kevarzangia Two,” Qonja said. “But I think it would be best if we left Joren as soon as possible. Xonal Torin mentioned to us that you are heading an expedition into the Saraced system. Would you consider allowing Hawk and I to serve as members of the crew?”

  “Of course,” I said at once. “We would be glad to have you with us.” I thought for a moment. “How would you wish to serve on the crew?”

  “My people on Terra lived under primitive tribal conditions,” Hawk put in. “I may be able to help you interpret some of the customs and practices of the oKiaf. I also have first-aid training, so I can assist you in the medical bay when necessary.”

  “I can serve as the expedition’s psychologist,” Qonja said. “Or your personal bodyguard, as before.”

  The door panel chimed, preventing my answer, and I went to answer it. One glance at the external display made me frown.

  “Xonea.” I opened the panel.

  “I would speak to you and your bondmate.” The captain of the Sunlace walked in past me and stopped as he saw our guests. “Forgive me, I do not mean to interrupt.”

  “Then you should have waited rather than come here at this hour,” Reever replied.

  I saw that my husband was still spoiling for a fight with my ClanBrother. “Whatever the hour or circumstance, we are all still friends. Come and join us, Captain.”

  Xonea greeted Qonja and Hawk in a polite but reserved fashion, refused my offer of tea, and remained on his feet. “My ClanFather has spoken to me of this expedition you intend to take to Saraced. Given the current political situation there, I advise against it.”

  “He must have also told you that oKia is one of three worlds on the Aksellan map that was not marked as harboring the black crystal,” I said. “It is important that we discover if that is still the case, and if so, why.”

  “You acquired this mining map from the Trellusans,” Xonea said. “What if it is not authentic? What if they counterfeited it in order to lure you and Duncan to this world?”

  “Why resort to such an elaborate ruse?” I spread out my hands. “They had the means to keep us imprisoned on Trellus. If they wished to collect a bounty for us, why would they give us a map and let us go? How could they know we would choose to sojourn to oKia, for that matter?”

  His mouth tightened. “I do not like this. We can protect you better on Joren than in open space.”

  “That is why I asked Xonal to have you transport the expedition on the Sunlace,” I pointed out. “There is no one we trust more to keep us safe.”

  My ClanBrother turned his head and eyed Reever, who nodded his agreement. “Very well. If you are to go, it will be on my ship.” He then regarded Qonja and Hawk. “I suppose you two intend to accompany us.”

  “Jarn has consented to our joining the crew, but it is your ship,” Qonja said, his tone cool. “If our presence is as unwelcome there as it has been almost everywhere else, we should be told now.”

  Xonea had been the one to expose Qonja and Hawk’s relationship to the Adan, I recalled.

  “There has been much debate among the Houses over your bond,” Xonea said. “I am like most of our people in that I value our traditions and wish to see them preserved. I also believe the primary responsibility of those who Choose is to have children. Still, even one such as I can see the bond that exists between you and Hawk. It appears as real and enduring as”—he glanced at me—“any other I have witnessed.”

  Qonja put his hand on Hawk’s shoulder. “It is.”

  “Then this time, I will save you some trouble and assign you both to the same quarters on the Sunlace.” Xonea turned to Reever. “The ship has been undergoing some refitting at the Zamlon docks. I am traveling there tomorrow to inspect the work. If you and Jarn wish to accompany me, I will call for you in the morning.”

  Like Xonea’s, my husband’s expression gave away none of his feelings. “We would, thank you.”

  “Be ready to leave by midrise.” With a nod to the rest of us, my ClanBrother left.

  “Am I hallucinating?” Hawk asked softly, “Or did I just hear Captain Xonea Torin acknowledge our bond?”

  Qonja grinned. “If you did not, it was a shared hallucination.”

  I heard a low, distressed sound, and looked past Qonja to see our daughter standing on the other side of the room with Fasala just inside the entrance to the courtyard.

  “Your pardon, Healer Jarn.” Fasala looked miserable. “I did not wish to interrupt your visit, so I brought Marel back through the courtyard.”

  “It’s all right, Fasala.” The stricken look on Marel’s small face told me how much of our discussion she had overheard. “I am sorry we did not have the chance to talk to you about the sojourn first.”

  “You told ClanUncle and Hawk and even Fasala.” Marel knuckled away the tears in her eyes and gave me a defiant look. “You told everyone about it. Everyone but me. Now what will my friends say?” She ran off to her room, and Reever followed her.

  “I think we should go,” Hawk said, and gave me a brief farewell embrace. Against my ear, he murmured, “The young are very forgiving.”

  After I saw out Qonja and Hawk, I returned to hear the sounds of my daughter sobbing and Reever speaking in a low, soothing voice.

  “Since your return from Trellus, Marel has been telling our friends that you would be staying and making your home here with us,” Fasala explained. “She even spoke to our ClanLeader about planting a garden of Terran vegetables, to see if they would grow here. I think this is the cause of her distress.”

  “I knew she was becoming attached to this world, but . . .” I stopped and rubbed my eyes with my fingers. “We cannot take her with us on this expedition; it is too dangerous. Perhaps she will feel better when she knows that.”

  “I think not, Healer,” Fasala said. “Each time you leave her, Marel fears you will not return. Her true happiness is walking within beauty with you and Linguist Reever.” With a sympathetic gesture, the Jorenian girl also departed.

  When Marel was upset, Reever always managed her better than I could, so I busied myself with tidying up. An hour passed before he emerged and joined me in the food prep area.

  “She is sleeping now.” He put his arm around my waist. “Don’t blame yourself, beloved. We knew this news would be difficult for her to accept.”

  I knew, and still it did not make a difference. “I know it must be this way, and still I cannot bear to hear her weeping like that.” I took a deep breath and faced him. “Fasala mentioned something. It seems our daughter has been telling the other children that we were to make a home here. A permanent home.”

  Reever frowned. “I have not said any such thing to her. Have you?”

  I shook my head. “Who would make her believe something like that?”

  “Perhaps something was said by someone who wishes us to remain on Joren.” His gaze shifted to the drone concealed in a nearby wall.

  Xon
ea, of course. Another of his controlling tactics, and this time he used it on my daughter.

  This time, he had made my daughter cry.

  I couldn’t bear another moment of this farce, so I reached into the storage container and removed the largest, sharpest blade from it. “Look over there, Husband.” I made my voice as loud as I could without disturbing the child. “I think someone has planted a spying device in our quarters.”

  “Jarn.” Duncan shook his head.

  He was right; what I meant to do was a foolish thing. And I didn’t care. I went over to the wall and drove the knife into the embedded drone. The plasteel shattered the monitoring device, causing a short spray of sparks to shoot out of the wall.

  “I wonder if there are others. Let me look.” I went to the next. “Oh, dear, here is another one.” I used the blade to pry this one out of the wall panel, and peered into its tiny lens. “Are you getting this picture, spy?” I dropped the drone to the floor and stomped on it until it lay in small pieces.

  Reever did not stop me as I went from drone to drone and systematically destroyed all but one of them. With the last, I carefully removed it from its hiding place and brought it over to the disposal unit.

  “Hello,” I said to the drone. “Please be advised of the following: If I find another monitoring device within a hundred meters of me, Reever, or Marel, I will have the person responsible explain why to the Ruling Council.” I paused. “After I beat him senseless for intruding on our privacy and deceiving our child.”

  I crushed the drone in my hand before I dropped the remains into the disposal.

  Reever came to stand next to me. “Regarding the beating, you will have to wait your turn.”

  “Good.” I turned and went to the room terminal, and prepared a formal text signal before I asked my husband to translate it into Jorenian for me. As he read the message, I said, “I will send it now, unless you have any objections.”

  He gave me one of his rare half smiles. “None at all.”