"And yet," Jahir murmured. "This feeling now would be impossible without the contrast of those feelings before."
The Eldritch was right. But Vasiht'h said, "Luckily for us, I've lived enough of those feelings for a lifetime of contrast."
Even the hard parts were good, like when Jahir confessed his desire to step down from their work as therapists. "I violated my oath far too many times over for even the pretense of accident. These powers I said I would never use to touch a mind without permission..." He'd halted abruptly, pained.
Saying that once upon a time, on another warship, Jahir had told him that breaking an oath didn't make him unlovable, was sometimes justified... somehow Vasiht'h knew that wasn't the right tact. The Goddess's divine breath guided him elsewhere. "So then, it's time for you to stop touching minds and start on bodies, yes? Your homeworld needs physicians, and you've been wanting to go that route for a long time." Jahir's stunned look had made him laugh, just a little, and touch his best friend's hand. "Didn't even think of what to do with yourself after that, did you."
"No!"
"That's why you have me."
Maybe it surprised Vasiht'h, a little, that Jahir hadn't wanted to spend some of this time with Sediryl, but the Eldritch had said only that it wasn't the time yet. It was hard to argue with someone whose sense of the pattern had promised they would be reunited and been right. So they talked, and Jahir ate, though not as much as Vasiht'h wished and probably more than he wanted given that all they had was Chatcaavan rations. Even an Emperor's flagship had limitations.
They saw little of that Emperor, or the Queen, but what they did was illuminating.
"Do you remember when we first met Lisinthir, and he told us what he did in the Empire?" Vasiht'h asked after the final briefing, on the eve of their exit out of Well. "We wondered if he was delusional."
"...because delusion was more plausible an explanation for his story than that he actually had transformed his rapist into a person capable of love and remorse," Jahir said, smiling too. "Yes, I recall. How glad I am to discover how wrong we would have been."
And then there had been that vigil on the bridge, after they'd been asked up to it. Even deciding to accept the invitation had made it clear how much Vasiht'h had changed. They were on a warship, looking for a fight, and people died on warships, and yet... he was all right with being here. Even with dying, as long as he did it with Jahir, and for this cause. He hadn't forgotten his fervent entreaty on the pirate base: that his life didn't matter, so long as he spent it making sure things like this never happened to anyone else. That vow, the anger that had inspired it, the atrocities he'd witnessed... all of those things had sunk into the matrix of his bones, had become part of what held him erect. That was why, when Jahir reached for Lisinthir and couldn't make it, Vasiht'h had twined himself into his friend's mind without hesitation, and together they'd accomplished what Jahir alone couldn't: they'd reached through Wellspace and communicated with a mind so far away they couldn't even see the stars there. That mindtouch had made it possible for them to save the Alliance, because without the information Lisinthir had sent them, their Chatcaava wouldn't have known where to go, or how fast they had to get there. The Admiral-Offense had ordered the safeties off the engines and they'd raced light to their destination... raced it, and won.
A lot of people died in that battle. Vasiht'h knew because he stayed on the bridge for the entirety of it, in a corner of the Admiral-Offense's pit. How different that had been from his experience on the Quicklance, when he had huddled with Jahir in the ship's clinic and fought their mutual terror at the constant shudders and twitches of the vessel! This time he'd had a seat beside the Eldritch, and they'd both helped where they could, maintaining contact with the White Admiral's flagship and responding when normal communications didn't provide answers fast enough.
He'd had something to do, and he'd done it. He'd been aware of their danger; he'd heard and seen the numbers moved off the tactical board to the casualty list as the Chatcaava closed with their own people and killed them. If his understanding of those numbers had been purely intellectual, he'd at least been present to witness their sacrifice.
He also knew that they'd helped turn the tide.
"You were right," Vasiht'h said to Jahir as they waited for Fleet Central to clear the Emperor's vessel for Selnor orbit. "All along, back when you said that we were supposed to be involved. All this time I thought it was just you the war needed. Or I hoped so." He paused, thinking through the events. Laughed a little. "And I did it the way I've always done things. By helping other people stay sane and healthy so they could accomplish epic things. Sediryl, the Chatcaavan Queen, you..."
Jahir touched his shoulder. "What you have always failed to understand, ariihir, is that such help is as crucial to the accomplishment of anything as the figureheads who receive the credit. There are no great deeds without people like you. No matter how rarely they are sung of."
Vasiht'h wrinkled his nose. "That's fine with me. I can't imagine how irritating it would be to be famous. Much less famous enough for people to sing ditties about you." He shook his head. "All I ever wanted was to make life a little easier for people. If that's all I'm ever known for, I'll be content."
"You have made this Eldritch's life so," Jahir answered. "You made my life in the Alliance possible. More than that. Worth living."
That blush burned so hot Vasiht'h knew it was useless to deny it. The mindline was probably on fire with it. "Let's get our feet on familiar soil, arii. Now that we finally can."
Selnor didn't feel like coming home, or at least, the orbital station didn't. But the relief that rushed through Vasiht'h at the sight of architecture he recognized was so powerful it made him giddy. The Alliance and Eldritch nationals aboard the flagship had been assigned temporary quarters, and while Vasiht'h knew they wouldn't be leaving for Starbase Veta anytime soon with Jahir so deeply entangled with whatever Lisinthir and Sediryl were planning, just having a place to stay with technology he understood and colors he expected and smells that, no matter how unusual, were still Pelted-typical....
Jahir had asked if he would be all right alone while the Eldritch attended his mandatory physical exams at the Medplex. Vasiht'h shooed him away immediately.
Being home meant access to a data tablet.
Access to that data tablet meant mail.
Vasiht'h had a great deal of it. So much so that he was staggered by the count. Why so many? And flagged urgent? He scrolled back to the first, from his mother, and opened it... which is how he discovered that the liner he and Jahir had been captured from had been listed as missing, and its passenger manifest released to the families. The sight of his mother in tears, asking him to call when he got back because she knew that he would find a way...
Vasiht'h shoved all the other messages off the display and checked the time on Anseahla. It was just after dawn in his hometown, and his mother wouldn't care. He built the call and waited, fingers clutching the data tablet's edge. It took far too long for someone to pick up, but at last he heard the fumbling of fingers before he heard a voice-in the dark, so no one had turned on a light in the bedroom. His father. "Who is it?"
"Tapa?" Vasiht'h said. "Tapa, it's me! Vasiht'h!"
A singing pause and then the light snapped on and he heard his father shaking his mother. "Vasiht'h's alive!"
Vasiht'h closed his eyes, fighting the wetness in them. They'd thought he was dead!
His mother grabbed focus from his father. "Vasiht'h? Vasiht'h! Oh, Goddess! Where have you been? Are you all right? Where are you!"
"Dami, I'm good, I mean it," Vasiht'h said. "I promise. I'm in the Selnor system with Jahir, we're both fine."
To his dismay his mother's face crumpled and she started crying. His father wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said, "We've been so worried."
"I know. I didn't mean to worry you. If I could have said anything... but I didn't even know they'd listed us as missing."
"So you weren't?"
his father asked.
"Actually we were... worse than missing," Vasiht'h said after a moment. "We went through a lot of terrible things. But we're all right now."
"It's the war, isn't it," Tapa said, and Vasiht'h didn't like at all the lines between his brows, the ones that hinted at how often and how deeply he'd been frowning. "Do you know where your sister is?"
"Do I... which sister?" Vasiht'h stuttered.
"Sehvi," Tapa said. "There's no word coming out of Tam-ley since it was destroyed-"
"WHAT?"
"The planet's been declared a disaster site," his father said. "The Chatcaava blew a chunk off the main continent and the weather went straight to the Goddess's hell after that. We don't know what happened to your sister and her family, but we have some hope that she's all right. The news says the majority of the fatalities lived on the coast and in the cities concentrated in the northwestern part of the continent. Sehvi's house was a long way from the epicenter."
Had he told Jahir he didn't miss his claws? His fingertips ached from the pressure that would have exposed them. He was gripping the tablet too hard. "She hasn't answered any mail or calls?"
"No one is. All the repeaters and satellites in the system are either destroyed or being used to route emergency vehicles. Families are supposed to wait for refugee services to sort the survivors and get word out. They're doing that as fast as possible. And before you ask, no one's allowed in-system unless they're involved with the evacuation or rescue efforts. We can't go look. It's not safe."
The enormity of it hit him. "They destroyed Tam-ley." When his father nodded, Vasiht'h said, "What else?"
His father told him. He heard the words, but they felt far away compared to the sound of his heart beating in his ears, and the numb pressure in his head.
"Is that everything?" he asked when his father stopped.
"That we know of now."
And they hadn't even heard about this battle in Selnor.
"Oh my love," his mother said, and how he hated how grief and worry had ravaged her face. "I'm so glad you're all right. Promise me you'll come visit as soon as you can."
"I promise, Dami."
"Keep in touch?"
"I will. I'll message my other siblings too. If you don't get to them first."
His mother had managed a halting laugh. "Race you."
He smiled. "Winner makes the other one cookies."
"Deal."
After the call ended, Vasiht'h set aside the tablet with trembling fingers. He was once again in the Alliance, and on a station with a luxurious energy budget and the genie in his quarters to prove it. He could have a cup of hot tea. Tea sounded like a very good idea.
He was still sitting by the couch when Jahir returned from his check-up. The Eldritch went to a knee before him, grave. "Something has gone wrong."
"Did they tell you?" Vasiht'h asked, voice trembling. "About the casualties. About the damage." The mindline softened into something receptive, like an evening before frogs filled it with song. "Tam-ley is dead. They're going to have to terraform it to make it viable again. And there are other places..."
But Jahir ignored that to ask, urgently, "Sehvi? The children?"
"They don't know," Vasiht'h said, and started crying. The arms that flew around him were the least of what he needed, and for once just having Jahir with him wasn't enough. But it helped. It helped. When he felt like he was done, he sat back and tried to wipe his eyes and nose. A handkerchief appeared under his hand and he used it, grateful.
"I don't believe the mindgift can reach so far," Jahir asked once he'd composed himself. "But we can try."
"You... you really think?" Vasiht'h looked up at his friend. "You're the one with the fully developed powers, not me. I can't do it alone."
"We are a team," Jahir reminded him gently. "And we could try."
"But if we can't do it... would we know? Or would it be like she was dead? Could we tell?"
A hesitation, so slight he saw it only because he'd known Jahir so long.
Vasiht'h said, "We wouldn't be able to, would we."
"I don't know," Jahir admitted.
The thought that they could reach for Sehvi and find nothing at the end of their grasp, and not know... Vasiht'h shuddered so hard his wings bounced on his back. No. If they couldn't touch her, he would assume she was dead. He had to have hope.
"Shall we go, then?"
Vasiht'h lifted his eyes. The Eldritch was waiting, the essence of calm determination. All this, Vasiht'h marveled despite his fear. For him. He'd wanted so badly to share it with Sehvi and her family. For them to find Eldritch of their own to be fascinated, baffled, and charmed by. His vision blurred and he wiped them again. "We can't. They're not letting anyone in who's not involved with the rescue."
Jahir touched the backs of his fingers to Vasiht'h's cheek in a gesture the Glaseah had seen Lisinthir use. Family, he thought, heart aching. "Waiting is so very difficult. I am sorry, ariihir."
"Me too," Vasiht'h answered. "I thought... I thought we'd show up and save the day and the day would be saved. It's not supposed to be ‘the day is saved, except billions of people have died.'"
Somber, Jahir said, "Better billions than all."
Such thoughts still felt alien to Vasiht'h, but less so than when he'd embarked on this misadventure. His heart insisted that the worlds were ending, but some dispassionate part of him stood to one side and counted the cost and knew how many worse alternatives they'd avoided. "If we'd come sooner...."
"We did what we could," Jahir said.
Vasiht'h let his head fall onto his friend's shoulder. "Maybe she's not dead."
The mindline felt steady under his feet, like good solid earth. "Perhaps not. Without more news, we cannot guess. Have they said how long it might take...?"
Vasiht'h shook his head.
Jahir sighed and stroked his back, just a small movement of his thumb. "Then we will abide in hope."
"And keep busy," Vasiht'h said. "Please tell me there's something we can do to keep busy."
"We will find something."
Vasiht'h nodded against Jahir's shoulder.
In the wake of the battle, the Silhouette was assigned to search and rescue amid the wreckage, an effort that would require days of work and teams rotating on and off duty to avoid the mistakes made by fatigued and despondent crews. It would have been a good time to have the mind-mage talent that would have sensitized him to the emanations of proximate minds, but Lisinthir remained a dilettante in that arena. The crew put him to work anyway, cross-referencing the ship IDs stripped from the detritus against the rosters. It was grim work, and while it did not rob their victory of its power it made achingly clear how much it had cost.
Nor was he the only one dragooned into service: the Knife had a deft hand with the hitch and found himself between Shanelle and Na'er, gently pulling bits of the wreckage away so the sensors had a better view into the spaces. Kuuvel, of course, was in the clinic with Patrick, the second specialist who served as backup medic in Crosby's absence. They had too little work for their taste: identifying and bagging the remains brought on board depressed the buoyance even of Kuuvel, who had made a joke on the way to their deaths but had no humor to offer now. As the only Chatcaavan medic in the crew, he had the responsibility of handling any Chatcaavan bodies he found. There were plenty of those as well.
They were relieved the day after the battle, and glad-and ashamed of that relief-to be off-duty for a time. It was a somber Meryl who accompanied Lisinthir to the Pad in the back of the ship, after Laniis and Andrea had gone ahead. "So, any idea what you're up to next?"
"I imagine we will be renewing the treaty," Lisinthir said. "My Queen will want us as signatories to any new pacts. After that...."
"You'll go back," Meryl guessed.
He wondered if she meant to the Eldritch, or to the Chatcaava. "I will go home, yes. And you?"
The Hinichi had grinned, tired. "As usual, we'll go where we're sent. Given our previous ex
perience, though, chances are high we'll be back on the border. The way it sounds there's going to be more than enough unrest to make some extra eyes there a good idea."
"For both Empire and Alliance," Lisinthir agreed, watching her build the Pad tunnel.
"Godspeed, then, Ambassador." Meryl offered her hand. "It's been a pleasure."
With her hand he received her gratitude, her weariness, and her pride: a cold pride, aware of and thankful to those who had died, but nevertheless. The Alliance remained, and they had done their part. Squeezing, Lisinthir said, "Alet. The honor was mine."
Her mouth curved up as she stepped away. A worthy woman, he thought, and all her crew. He would miss them.
The Pad was singing. He crossed it, and didn't look back.
A heartbeat. Another. His boot fell onto the deck on Fleet Central, in one of its many Pad rooms, and he was not alone. Two people awaited him there, and a fairer sight he could hardly imagine save the one he knew he had come to meet. But before then...
Lisinthir strode to Jahir and caught him up, and kissed him, and his cousin melted into him with a gratitude at the sight of him that ached between their bodies, soaked through their skins. Once such a display would have dismayed them both, but the Empire had beaten it out of Lisinthir, and the war out of Jahir. Life was fleeting, and love precious, and Lisinthir didn't give a damn who was watching.
When he broke free he kept hold of Jahir's face, turning it so he could see the scars. He spoke in the most formal of Eldritch grammars, tainting the words with shadows and carnal griefs. "Bloody-mouthed seer," he said, low, letting his fingers trail up to Jahir's lips. "Did thy words earn thee trouble again?"
"I could not stop them," Jahir admitted, head dipping. "Until I could speak no longer."
Lisinthir sighed and kissed his brow. "How intransigent you are, Healer."
"Have I earned the belt, then?"
"Many times over," Lisinthir answered. "And all the sweet words and rough handling you could desire. Only... do you not do that ever again." He tapped Jahir's lips. "Obey me better this time, my Delight."
From Ruins Page 37