by Sharon Rose
“Not like you think.” Kena used her belt controls and stepped away, drawing the shield back to enclose only her.
Pearl—once again Jennellee—snuggled in and laid her head on her new mother’s shoulder. Her eyes drooped.
Freltenloe held a device near the base of the child’s head.
Gwillenin’s mouth dropped open then slowly lifted into a bemused smile. “She is not injured!”
“No,” he murmured. “She doesn’t seem to be. She needs food and water. Take her to the medical facility nearest your home. You may need to spend the night there with her.”
Gwillenin stared at Kena. Her voice grew husky. “I don’t know how you did it. There is no way I can ever tell you of…of all the thanks I feel for…” Her mouth worked without sound.
“You already have,” Kena said. “I wish you peace.”
Gwillenin turned and hurried out.
A tangible silence filled the room. Kena stowed her belt controls and ran a hand through her disheveled hair.
Now, would they keep their word?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Pernanyen stepped nearer. “Please forgive me for causing you stress with too many people. I was too fascinated. I could not bear to wait—to meet the woman who would risk so much for the child of an enemy. I did not even know for sure I would have a chance to talk with you. Will you grant me a few minutes?”
“As you wish. Has the Epri7 returned to its earlier location?”
Pernanyen shrugged. “It is somewhere near the Ontrevay, which has also moved away from the nebula. TarKeen and your captain, Ghent, agreed on the location and distance. Quon is now in contact with the Ontrevay, but is still waiting between our two ships. I hope this contents you, so we may talk of more important things.”
Kena nodded.
Pernanyen swayed to one side and licked her lips. “I found a little, a very little, information about Humans. I think you must know more of us than we know of you. It was in with many other racial profiles that the Prednians gave us quite some time ago. It seems, they are fond of distributing information.”
Kena’s chest tightened with suppressed laughter. She managed a calm response. “They have that reputation. What did they say of Humans?”
“Your planet is called Earth, the third planet of a yellow star. Quite remote from us—on the far side of the Collaborative’s reach. You have colonies on the fourth planet, Mars, and your rather large satellite, Luna. They don’t sound like very friendly habitats.”
“They’re not. The colonies have mining and scientific purposes. What else did you find interesting?”
“The Tenelli were the first race to contact you. The profile said you have only recently joined the Collaborative, though we realize the information is old. Your robotics technology is of interest to the Collaborative. There were several references to navigational skills. That puzzled me. They made it sound like it’s a racial trait.”
Kena couldn’t stop the laughter this time.
Pernanyen smiled up at her. “Your laugh is so pretty—almost like music.”
“Thank you. Not many of us are navigators, but those who pursue that career tend to be quite good at it.”
“You certainly seem to be. TarKeen searched for records of encounters and found one in which the Collaborative navigator was addressed as Kena. We don’t know whether Humans are a race that reuses names.”
“We do.” Kena omitted just how unique her own first name was. “Did he mention anything else about it?”
“Yes. Three other craft recorded scans, so it’s very clear what happened. He published a bulletin to the ship.” She walked the fingertips of one hand across her other fingers as she made each point. “It states that the fighter which pursued did so against the advice of the others; the actions of the Collaborative pilot were evasive; the PitKreelaundun pilot died by crashing into an asteroid; and the ruling families chose not to raise a charge of border violation.”
“I see.”
“If you were the pilot, you may not want to say so here. I will not ask you directly, but I wanted you to know the PitKreelaundun view.”
“Thank you. What else did the Prednians say of Humans?” Kena didn’t really care—anything to change the subject.
“Referring to culture, they said, ‘Humans have long been separated by oceans and barriers to travel. Consequently, there are many cultures, which are not yet fully blended.’ I find that difficult to interpret. Are they implying that such travel barriers have only been overcome recently? This would seem odd for a race that colonizes other planets.”
“Indeed,” Kena said. “A profile will tell you as much about the race that wrote it as the race it describes. Prednians have one culture. As far as we can tell, this has been true for quite a long time. Since they cannot imagine a reason why cultures should vary, they assume physical barriers caused it on Earth. Perhaps these contributed, but they are neither the cause nor the reason distinct cultures persist.”
“Why, then, do the cultures not blend?”
“To some degree, they do,” Kena said. “If I may turn the question, why should they blend?”
“For unity,” Pernanyen said, as though it should be obvious. “To include all. Is that not desirable to a Human?”
“It is, but sameness is not unity. Different cultures can achieve unity, if they are willing.”
“You intrigue me so!”
What an odd intonation. How could she respond to such a statement? Kena tilted her head and asked, “Was there anything else?”
“The profile included some taboos and sensitivities.” Pernanyen shook her head as she spoke. “Which we will avoid. There was some mention of social behaviors. Humans like music and have a great variety of styles. Your dances are vigorous. Social events typically include food. You can eat sweet/sour, but not freth/prin.” Pernanyen’s shoulders swayed forward and back, as though talking were like walking. “Unfortunately, that only tells me how to avoid making you ill, not what flavors you actually like. Apparently, food must be consumed in accordance with certain rules. That part was oddly emphatic, yet vague.”
Kena lifted a shoulder. “Prednians say that about every race. In reality, we don’t much care, so long as cleanliness is maintained.”
Pernanyen smiled. “I’m sure we can accommodate that. I invite you to join me for a meal so we may talk more.”
Kena ensured that her expression remained pleasant. “Thank you for the invitation; however, I must decline.”
“I realize food from an unfamiliar race may pose a concern,” Pernanyen said. “I offered a meal in an attempt to match your culture. But if you prefer, we can converse without it. I would be pleased to take you to a furnished room. Perhaps you would prefer to sit while we talk.”
“I find our conversation interesting,” Kena said, “but we must remember broader concerns. Commitments were made by you and TarKeen. It’s time for me to return to the Ontrevay.”
“We will honor our commitments, but I see no need to hurry. Please do not be concerned. We are most grateful to you for your care of Jennellee Pearl. I promise you, we will do nothing to harm you.”
Kena’s stomach tightened. “It’s your relations with the Collaborative that you are about to harm. Is this conversation still being transmitted to Ghent?”
“No, it was necessary to interrupt communication while you passed through the shields. I told TarKeen not to restart it until I had time to review it.”
“Please consider the results of your actions. A silence this long will cause concern.”
“How rushed your life must be,” Pernanyen said. “TarKeen knows what is happening; I’m sure he is informing your captain. If there were a serious concern, he would tell me. Please, I so much wish to know more of you and your race. Come.”
She turned toward the door, but Kena didn’t move. Freltenloe stepped aside but kept his eyes on Kena. The other two remained as statues.
Pernanyen paused at the door then walked slowly back to he
r. Kena could feel her telepathic energy carefully extend. At least she knew how to control it. Kena yielded no access.
“You are a telepath,” Pernanyen said.
“Not like you think.”
“The Prednians said Humans aren’t natural telepaths, but that you can be trained. Clearly, you are one of the trained.”
Kena shook her head. “Prednians do not understand what telepathy means to a Human. None of the races do, though they all think otherwise.”
“No race understands another,” Pernanyen said. “Particularly if they do nothing but talk. They speak from their own perspectives and hear from their own perspectives. Neither has any idea whether they understand or were understood.”
Where was she going with this?
Words spilled from Pernanyen like waves surging through a cracked dike, and her shoulders swayed faster. “This happened when we first met the Interstellar Collaborative. It happened again when we established our treaty. We thought we were being very specific and clear. Yet the Collaborative interprets the borders in a way we never envisioned. We would have stated them differently if we had known.”
Not good! Kena concentrated on listening. She’d have to be careful if she was going to talk her way out of this.
Pernanyen’s words flowed so fast she didn’t seem to breathe. “Most PitKreelaundun believe the Collaborative purposely misinterprets the borders. The Collaborative accuses us of contradicting our own words and trying to extend our reach. Perhaps they really believe the things they say. Perhaps it is all show. We have no way to determine how to communicate with any of your races and be certain of what is really meant.”
Pernanyen leaned forward, and her pace slowed. “The little you have said shows that you comprehend perspective. If I could have a few days with you, perhaps we could learn enough to start communicating. But you will not give me even an hour. And it seems that your captain would not, even if you were willing.”
Kena let another breath pass to make sure the tirade was over. “I would love to assist in a dialog between our races,” she said. “It needs to start with small steps. Send me back, now. Let me convey what you desire. Let us arrange a meeting where none of us will feel forced or vulnerable. Then, we will talk more.”
For a time, Pernanyen was silent, staring up into Kena’s face. “If the Ontrevay were a ship from Earth, then what you suggest might be possible. But it is not. You do not trust me. They will trust me less. They will not take the small steps you speak of, so only one is available to me. If it is small, it is wasted. Therefore, I will take a single, big step.”
Freltenloe watched Pernanyen with narrowed eyes and parted lips.
“What, exactly, does that mean?” Kena asked.
“You will stay for a short time; I will make it as brief as possible. We will link in order to learn of each other quickly.”
“I could not possibly!” Kena declared. “I am not acclimated to your race.”
“We understand the need. Freltenloe will acclimate you first.”
Kena abandoned diplomatic phrases. “No. I can tell already that it will be harsh. Several days must pass before I could link with you, even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”
Pernanyen heaved a sigh then straightened her posture. “The Prednians only used one form of acclimation. We know of other forms. Freltenloe will have you fully acclimated within a day. Since you are constrained, I will submit to the same after you have time to rest.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Kena asked.
Pernanyen jerked as though Kena had slapped her. “Perhaps my words sound meaningless to you, but I will not be able to withdraw from my obligation. It is law. Else, I forfeit my life.” She looked to one of the men. “FarNon, disrupt her shield and remove her EVA apparatus.”
The black-haired guard pulled one of those ominous devices from his belt and stepped behind Kena.
The other guard drew near and faced her. “Please, do not panic,” he murmured. “Be still.”
Freltenloe spoke rapidly in his own language.
Kena felt the shield release and inhaled the tangy scent of alien air. Her stomach muscles twitched, as FarNon’s hand slid between her waist and the belt.
“Pardon. I intend no disrespect, ma’am.” he said, tugging at the clasp.
Instinct demanded action—spin, jab, kick, drop him—but she was trapped. A sealed chamber, with three men and hundreds more beyond the door. All of them ready to hate her.
The belt released. It brushed against her leg as the guard stepped back with it. Electricity tingled from her spine to fingertips. Her stomach turned in on itself.
“I have made my decision,” Pernanyen declared, cutting Freltenloe off. “There will be no more discussion.”
Freltenloe widened his stance and made one more statement in Prednian. “Let my statement be heard, ma’am, that I advised against this course of action.”
“It is heard and witnessed,” Pernanyen said. “Guards, stay with them until they reach the medical facilities.”
Then, she strode out the door.
Kena could barely breathe. Oh, my father, this is not good!
All things, Kena. I love you.
Freltenloe turned to Kena and regarded her through several loud beats of her heart. Two vertical lines between his eyebrows marred his smooth honey-brown skin. Dark brown hair swept back toward the nape of his neck, hiding his ears.
He licked his lips. “I am now responsible for your wellbeing.”
“You don’t look very pleased about it,” Kena said between her teeth.
“It would not displease me,” he said, “but it’s difficult to reassure you since Pernanyen ordered rapid acclimation. I will not pretend that you’ll enjoy it, but I will monitor you closely to ensure you are not harmed.”
Kena sought for words that could turn the course of events. She found none.
Freltenloe shifted his weight and drew another breath. “Before we go farther into the ship, I’d like to give you a temporary emfrel shield.” He withdrew a device from the pack he carried over one shoulder.
Four simple bands joined together at the ends, similar to the external emfrel shields of any other race—in appearance, anyway. Harmless…probably. In addition to the shield, such devices usually contained simple medical sensors, for heart rate and such. Whether this one contained anything else, she had no way of knowing.
“Will you permit me to fit this to your head?”
Pressure built in her chest. She clamped her lips. No, he did not have permission for anything. But he would do it anyway.
When she didn’t answer, he stepped nearer and fit it over her head. The upper and lower bands followed her hairline. The other two, he threaded through her hair. He stepped back, giving her space again, and adjusted the control from a device he held.
She felt nothing but the mental equivalent of silence. Much like a door being closed to block out the sound of a crowd she hadn’t even noticed till now.
He motioned one guard toward the door. “Please walk beside me, ma’am. We will not touch you if you do not try to flee.”
As though there was a place to flee to!
They walked—one guard behind, one leading—through featureless hallways, which soon changed. Alcoves in the walls held trellises and plants, each one different. Light glowed from them, casting patterns on the floor, as though sun shone through windows. An oddly cozy setting for dread.
A voice Kena recognized spoke overhead in a language she did not know.
“Is that TarKeen?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“What’s he saying?”
“He is giving orders to ensure your safety.”
He had to give orders to ensure it? Kena shuddered.
Chapter Thirty-Five
They entered a reception room with hallways branching from it. Fabric swathed the walls: variegated greens pulled aside in graceful folds, exposing a soft beige background. A half dozen PitKreelaundun, black-haired and brown, t
urned to stare at Kena. Why did their coloring seem so significant?
“This is Kena Talgarth, a Human,” Freltenloe said. “Pernanyen has ordered me to acclimate Kena to our emfrel. I need an assistant, preferably a volunteer.”
A black-haired man curled his lip. “Ah! So, we’ll get some entertainment, after all. I volunteer. It will be a pleasure to watch her squirm.”
The PitKreelaundun drew a collective gasp.
“Get…out!” Freltenloe demanded through clenched teeth. “You are confined to quarters for the duration of Kena’s presence on this ship. No communication.” To the guards, he snapped, “Bind DrenVid, take him to his quarters, and seal it under my orders.”
One of the brown-haired women hurried forward. Tiny lines rayed out from her tense lips. “I offer to assist you. I will tend her needs gently.”
“Kena,” Freltenloe said, “this is Shannandi. Come.”
They led Kena down one of the hallways. A glance over her shoulder gave her a glimpse of a livid PitKreelaundun and impassive guards. What a confusing, unpredictable race.
The next room contained medical equipment. Her pulse quickened anew.
“This is predominantly physical scanning equipment,” Freltenloe said. “I would like more knowledge of you in order to care for you effectively. Shannandi, lie down in the scanner to show Kena what to expect.”
Freltenloe demonstrated the scan. Trying to reassure her, she supposed. It didn’t. Her gaze traveled the room.
“Please lie down,” he said, gesturing to the place where Shannandi had lain.
Kena ignored him. Which of these devices was used for acclimation?
“Kena, nothing in this room will cause you any discomfort,” he said. “Please lie down. This will take several minutes. You may rest.”
She did as he asked, for she had no real choice. Reason fought with fear. It was only a scan—yet one step closer. Panic edged in. She mustn’t let it. She should use this time to calm herself. Easier said than done. Pernanyen’s obscure words echoed through her mind. What sort of acclimation could be accomplished in a day? They didn’t understand! What damage would they do? Constrained link? It couldn’t be what it sounded like. But Pernanyen would try whatever it was she meant.