by Sharon Rose
Ghent remained silent. No advantage? Would a race that would force a link have any qualms about extracting information from him whenever the need arose?
“You do perceive this, don’t you?” Leonfir asked. “You and Kena will return to the Ontrevay.”
If he didn’t understand the possible advantage, Ghent wasn’t going to point it out. “Could you just simply state what you are proposing?”
Leonfir rubbed his forehead and shifted position. “Really, I am trying to communicate as clearly as I can.”
In the midst of the insanity, Ghent suppressed another urge to laugh. He was no less frustrated than the captain across from him. “And I am equally trying to understand. We will try again.”
Leonfir took a deep breath. “What I suggest must be entirely voluntary. If you do not wish to do it, then it will not happen. I am inviting you to know me. I am requesting the privilege of knowing you. Through a telepathic link…that we mutually control. I hope that is correctly stated. We have distinct words for telepathic control, but I can find no counterparts in the Prednian language. I don’t mean transferring control back and forth between us. I mean that we both control throughout. Either of us can withdraw at any time. Is this explanation clear for your culture?”
“I believe so.” Ghent closed his eyes for an instant then said, “I begin to understand why Kena laughs at odd moments.”
Leonfir’s eyes widened. “Does she?” His brow contracted. “Yes, she did on the trip here. Why?”
“It’s a Human form of stress relief. Are you under the impression that we can do this without acclimation?”
“No. If you are even tentatively willing, I will explain that part.”
Ghent ignored the embedded question. “Explain.”
Leonfir settled back into a faint sway as he talked. “The Prednian method is called gradual acclimation here. Sweeping, low doses are administered—just enough to cause recognition of the alien emfrel. Complete acclimation occurs through subsequent contact.” He shifted. “Rapid acclimation uses higher levels, but they are focused to smaller areas and repeated until full acclimation occurs.” He licked his lips. “You look appalled. Our doctors are convinced that you’ll be able to tolerate it.”
Ghent couldn’t keep the heavy cadence from his words. “I am thinking about what Kena experienced and how much damage was done. Humans lose memory from traumatic acclimation.”
Leonfir waited a few seconds before replying. “Emfrel does not engulf the mind during rapid acclimation, so there is no disorientation or associated memory loss. We have developed yet another form of gradual acclimation that we use for races that have difficulty with alien emfrel. It may work better for Humans than your current approach. We’ll provide the information to the Collaborative, regardless of whether you choose to link with me.”
Ghent tamed his anger. This was the first time a PitKreelaundun had offered anything to the Collaborative without direct benefit to themselves. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want to appear to mislead you,” Leonfir said. “Rapid acclimation is unpleasant and exhausting. You will hate every moment of the procedure. It must be all or nothing. Once the doctor starts, he will not stop. If you cannot agree to that, then we will not do it.”
“I understand,” Ghent said.
“I will also undergo acclimation at the same time as you. We should both sleep before we link. Is there any difficulty we should know of in waking a Plynteth?”
“None at all.”
“Good.” Leonfir paused. “I don’t know what else you may wish to hear. Do any questions trouble you?”
“I’m curious why the Prednians never linked with the PitKreelaundun. They’re not strong telepaths, but they still would have wanted to. Do you know?”
Leonfir met his gaze with a wide-eyed stare. “It was planned. You don’t know what happened?”
Ghent shook his head.
Leonfir appeared to collect his thoughts. “Gradual acclimation had been completed. There had been several meetings. A ruling family member, Kendimarron of Shennasee, and a doctor went to the Prednian ship for the link.
“Kendimarron was the son designated to inherit his father’s position in government. He was about ten years older than Pernanyen is now. They had just completed docking, when the Prednians moved their gravity ship with no notice at all.” His voice trembled. “They actually came through the ejection arm toward our ship.”
Leonfir swallowed and firmed his lips. “Debris was disrupted. The PitKreelaundun captain notified Kendimarron. He was both shocked and furious. He demanded to be permitted immediate departure and that the Prednians vacate the area. Both demands were met. While his craft was returning to the PitKreelaundun ship, trazine exploded nearby. At that time, none of our craft had the energy shields we use now. Kendimarron’s craft was hit. Everyone on board was killed.”
Ghent rose and paced.
Leonfir kept silent for a full minute. “Did you really not know that this happened?”
“No one in the Collaborative knows this.”
“Are you suggesting,” Leonfir asked, “that the Prednians hid it from everyone else?”
“Unlikely. Prednian ships typically have other races on board. If you had spent much time with them, you’d know that nothing is hidden among Prednians. It’s documented that a message came from the PitKreelaundun ship, but it was not translated. The PitKreelaundun left and demanded that the Prednians also leave. The Prednians were dumbfounded, but hurried to comply. There is no record of a PitKreelaundun craft being destroyed.”
“How could they not know?” Leonfir demanded. “Do they not monitor the ejection arms?”
“Not like you do!” Ghent said, shaking his head. “I’m sure they get fresh scans whenever they come in to gather benzlium, but they wouldn’t monitor it when departing.”
“Another example,” Leonfir said. “We have completely different understandings of what happened. Imagine if we each could truly know what the other believes and why. Imagine if we could verify this with such complete certainty that our leadership could not reject it. Could we not resolve differences and approach peace? Is that worth it to you, Ghent?”
Ghent looked across the room into those brown and gold eyes. He thought of the price they had already paid on this mission. He thought of the lives lost in skirmishes with the PitKreelaundun. And he thought of the risk Kena had taken to save an enemy’s baby. “I need to talk with Remlishos before we start. He must know I do this willingly.”
Leonfir had spoken no less than the truth. Ghent did hate every moment of acclimation. He dived for the oblivion of sleep with a relief he’d never before imagined. If only he could have stayed there and awakened naturally.
A voice…TarKeen’s…demanded otherwise. “Ghent. Ghent, you need to wake up.”
Ghent struggled onto an elbow. Leonfir sat across the room, and a doctor stood staring at a monitor.
“I know it is too soon,” TarKeen said. “You don’t need to speak. Just awaken.”
Ghent identified where he was in his sleep cycle and made the appropriate sairital adjustment to end it. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and locked his arms to hold himself upright. Alert but exhausted, he nodded, unwilling to waste thought on words.
TarKeen spoke slowly. “We have received a message that Travannesal of Frayunomen is on his way. He’ll arrive in an hour. If you and Leonfir are to complete your link before he arrives, you must start it now.”
Ghent met Leonfir’s gaze. He slumped in his chair, lips closed and face slack, He looked as tired as Ghent felt, but his eyes never wavered.
“I must have a clear answer,” TarKeen said. “A gesture will be adequate. Do you desire to link with Leonfir?”
This was not how he wanted it to happen, but it would be far worse to have interference from some unknown member of government. Ghent nodded.
Chapter Forty-Five
TarKeen took a chair in the communication chamber as he planned out what he wo
uld say. Hopefully, Remlishos would not overreact to change. The screen came to life, and the men exchanged formal greetings, which seemed to flow more easily from Remlishos than Ghent.
“I wish to update you on events,” TarKeen said.
Remlishos leaned back in his chair. “I appreciate that.”
“All is proceeding as expected with Ghent and Leonfir. They were both acclimated, slept for a while, and are now linked. They are monitored, since this is the first link between a PitKreelaundun and Plynteth. There is no sign of any problem.”
“Good to hear.”
“Freltenloe reports encouraging change in regard to Kena. As I told you before, she desired no visual or audio monitoring. He continues to monitor brain activity and key physical indicators.” TarKeen let his smile appear. “She fell asleep a few hours ago. Our doctors interpret her brain activity as indicating very deep sleep.”
“More good news!”
All courtesy and goodwill so far. Now to see if he could keep that going. “Yes. We are very pleased.” TarKeen paused. “There is also an unexpected development. It is unrelated to Kena and Ghent, but I want you to be aware of it. Travannesal of Frayunomen is approaching. His craft will come out of slip in about twenty minutes. Since he comes from our domain, he will need to pass the Ontrevay to reach us. There is no need for concern. I just didn’t want you to be surprised.”
Remlishos raised his brows and tapped a finger against the table.
“Feel free, sir, to voice your concerns,” TarKeen said. How he hated to invite that!
“I assume that if Travannesal disagrees with Leonfir’s commitments, they become meaningless.”
“No.” TarKeen emphasized the word. “He has ultimate authority, but he’s also bound by law. Pernanyen and I made commitments to permit Kena’s departure—they must be honored. The only question has been when and how to return her. Leonfir’s commitment to Ghent must likewise be honored. Further, there is no reason for Travannesal to disagree.”
“Can you tell me,” Remlishos asked, “why Leonfir said, yesterday, that it would take fifteen days for a ruling family member to arrive?”
TarKeen nodded. “He was referring to the charge against Pernanyen. She cannot be judged by a member of her own family. However, the primary members of government want one of their number here, because they are concerned over relations with the Collaborative. Pernanyen cannot fill that role now. Travannesal was the only one near enough to reach us quickly.”
Remlishos leaned against the armrest of his chair. “The lengthy silences between our two ships have increased tension. How long do you think it will be before Travannesal contacts us?”
“I can speak for myself,” TarKeen said, “but not for him. I will meet him at the hatch of his craft and request an immediate link. I’m sure he’ll grant it and will take time to learn what has occurred. I’ll tell him you desire communication.”
“What sort of craft does he come in, and how many craft escort him?”
“His craft is similar to the one Kena and Quon found in the nebula, but about twice the size. He normally travels with two escort craft, but has instructed them to remain a considerable distance behind him.”
Remlishos bowed. “Thank you for the information, TarKeen. I look forward to future conversations.”
As TarKeen strode from the chamber, he assessed the conversation. That wasn’t so bad.
Several minutes later, TarKeen watched the command room’s view screen. Consoles and ship operations staff surrounded him, more than half of them PitKree. An artificial dimensional rift formed and released a craft. Successful exit.
A technician spoke. “Sir, they’re broadcasting a message.”
“Play it aloud,” TarKeen said.
“I am Travannesal of Frayunomen of the PitKreelaundun government, addressing the crew of the Ontrevay, of the Interstellar Collaborative. We greet you and wish to assure you that we pursue a peaceful conclusion to this encounter between our races. If any damage or harm has occurred, I will ensure that justice is accomplished immediately. I will contact you again when I have reached the Epri7 and obtained full knowledge of the situation.”
TarKeen’s brow gathered, and his eyes narrowed. Justice? Immediately? What did he intend?”
Kena startled awake. Had someone called her name? The only sound was music playing softly from the device she still clutched in her hand. She propped herself up on one arm and glanced around the room—and actually saw it this time. Textured walls and a curtain. Her navigation suit hung neatly over the back of a chair by a small table. The rich presence of her beloved enveloped her still. She enquired without words. Was it you who called?
Yes, my child. Eat and dress.
Kena rose and touched the communication control.
A familiar voice responded. “What do you desire?”
“Food.”
Kena snatched up her clothing and headed behind the curtain that screened a bathroom. When she came out, Shannandi was setting a tray on the table.
Kena strode to the chair, sat, and took up a strange utensil. Two prongs on one end, spoon on the other. It would do.
Shannandi stared much like she beheld the impossible.
Kena scooped up something thick and soft. “TarKeen?” she said, and consumed her first mouthful.
“He is—uh—he may not be able to come at once.”
“Tell him I asked for him.”
TarKeen inclined his head to Travannesal and left to fulfill his order. He walked slower than usual, for Pernanyen’s suite was not far. He could use the time to prepare himself. Few tasks could be less pleasant.
She would be distraught by now. Days without any telepathic contact. Fully aware that her father was on board and refusing to see her, not even responding to her messages. Her information access had been blocked. Her hope of Kena’s recovery must be all but extinguished. Would she guess what was about to happen?
Perhaps not. This was so rarely done. Not once in his lifetime.
She’d likely ask questions. He needed to prepare a response. It must keep her calm and neither reveal how dire her situation was, nor give her false hope. A little breath huffed out his nose. Impossible.
Would she wonder at the deserted route they took? Travannesal had ordered one hallway restricted so she would meet no one on the way to the chamber. He didn’t want her losing control in the hallway.
Her two guards looked to him as he approached.
TarKeen pointed to the far side of the doorway. “Take position there. I will escort Pernanyen of Frayunomen to the trial chamber. You will follow us, ten paces distant. You will not speak to her.” He could have entered without permission, but he touched the call button and waited for her to grant him entrance.
She stood in the midst of her elegant reception room. The trimmings of authority were everywhere, even draped across her chest. Pernanyen fingered the chain of topaz and amber beads that hung from shoulder to hip.
Her hopeful—or was it desperate? —gaze fell at the sight of him. No doubt, she longed for her father. She worried the beads back and forth between restless fingers. “What news do you bring me, TarKeen?”
“Travannesal of Frayunomen has summoned you, ma’am. I will escort you to him.”
Her eyes held his for several seconds. She calmed her expression and held her posture erect as she moved toward him. Self-contained. Brave, even. Memories emerged of past days when the budding traits of a good leader had shown through her actions and words. It made this task all the harder.
“Please tell me Kena’s current condition,” she said.
He turned for the door to keep her moving. “Would it not be better to let Travannesal answer your questions?”
She was silent for a moment as they started down the hallway. “Such a gentle tone of voice you use, TarKeen.”
She knew something was wrong. “You’ve been without a link so long. I prefer to keep you calm.”
She abandoned her attempts to converse. They reached
the side entrance of the chamber, and he opened the door. A crowd filled the room. Pernanyen’s breath fled her lungs, and she staggered.
TarKeen gripped her arm to steady her. It went limp, and he cupped the elbow in his hand to give the impression of escorting her rather than dragging her forward. She took a deep breath and drew her features into a mask-like expression.
A gap led from the door to Travannesal, standing at the front, center of the chamber. He wore formal attire: the wide, gold band of his office spread across his chest from shoulder to shoulder, set off by his rich, night-brown tunic.
TarKeen took Pernanyen through the crowd.
She stopped in the open space before her father, and TarKeen stepped aside. Most of the furniture had been removed from the chamber, but Ghent and Leonfir occupied two chairs off to one side, with a couple doctors standing behind them. Pernanyen’s eyes widened as she looked at Ghent.
Travannesal stated her family title. “Daughter of Frayunomen.”
She dipped her upper body in respect then straightened.
His voice rang loud in the silence, though he did not raise it. “The captains Ghent and Leonfir have just completed an extensive link and are not ready for interaction. They choose to listen. You will not address them.”
She nodded.
Travannesal’s voice filled the room as he addressed Pernanyen again. “The ruling council has monitored this situation, to the extent possible from such a distance. We have determined that it is too sensitive to proceed without our presence. None but I could reach this location in time. I have accepted the commission to investigate, judge, and act.” He let seconds pass.
Pernanyen’s face sagged. TarKeen’s chest tightened.
“I cannot judge my own daughter,” Travannesal said. “I shall dissolve our relationship.”
She inhaled a ragged breath. “P-permanently?”
“I taught you to control your emotions. Do so now.”
She closed her eyes, pulled the mask back in place, and stared at his chest.