*
Novella found Dr. VanderKirche with Austine in her quarters. “Just gave her a detox cocktail,” he murmured, heading out the door. “She's not very happy with herself. I don't know if she wants to see you.” Then he was gone to return to the meddeck.
Austine glanced up as Novella entered. “Thank goodness it's you,” she muttered, holding a cold pack to her head. She was sitting on the side of her bed, her shoulders slumped. “Vekta will rip my head off. Man, I let him down big time... all of you. Ugh, I don't want even you to see me like this!”
Novella felt a hard twinge of compassion. Putting on an easy smile, she sat in a chair near the bed, facing the other woman. “Vekta would never do that, though I imagine he is pretty disappointed in you. But unlike anyone else on this ship, you do know what merging is like and how hard it can be... and risky. You were right to be frightened for us.” She took a deep breath. “It was pretty awful, though we don't remember the worst. I wanted to be terrified, too, but there was just too much at stake.”
“I know,” Austine said quietly. “Novella... I gotta manage myself better. Maybe developing the Attitudes will help me do that.”
That doesn't make sense, Novella thought, but said instead, “That could be. By the way, Stander is having his potential developed right now. The deepmerge activated it, so Thho is working with him to do that.”
Austine straightened. “Yeah? I was wondering why I couldn't cept him anywhere. Whoo, that's good, then. What about Vekta? Where is he? Why aren't you all in merge depletion?”
Novella was wondering about that herself. “Stander is. I guess the Attitudes make it so we do not get depleted.” Or it could be the healing from the Infinite... “I don't know about Zena.”
“That thing? He was really in all that with you?” Austine asked, incredulous.
You have no idea... “Get cleaned up and come to the meeting. Conference A. And don't worry about Vekta ripping off your head.” She winked at her. “I won't let him!”
“Small consolation.” Austine sniffed at her arm. “Guess I am a little ripe. Eh, thanks for checking up on me. So, it's really over? That Eye is gone?”
Novella gazed at her for a moment, then nodded. “The Eye is gone. “
“Dang.” Austine blew out her breath, a loose strand of light brown hair flipping into her eyes. “Sometimes it's really all right to miss out on all the fun. Everyone's okay? Really?”
Despite knowing about Vekta's current state of anguish, Novella nodded.
*
Attending the meeting on the Andromedea side were Novella, Sabella, Karol Vanderkirche, Rand, and Krendan. In the Sixtheye three-way call was also Peter Cenntl — Ria Vorclif blessedly unavailable at the moment — and Starguard Jaime Cenntl. Zena, though not invited, listened in; only Novella could have kept him out.
Between Novella, Rand, and Krendan, the story unraveled of the encounter with the Infinite and the Psian, One, the expansion of the Eye culminating with the destruction of the moon, the shrinking of the Eye and finally the medical evaluations on all five Dracons who'd been on the Tysona. The status of Stander Kvaan was also explained.
Novella had omitted any mention of Vekta merging with the subconscious minds of his children. Only the listening Zena would know where she lied about what happened, and she knew he would never reveal it either.
“Why is Colonel Rentclifv not present at this meeting?” the Commander General asked finally.
Novella hesitated before speaking. She'd been thinking of this long and hard already. Still she did not want to breach the bubble of silence into which Vekta had wrapped himself. “He is resting in his quarters, sir,” she said finally. “As this was my mission to lead, he directed me to make this report to you.”
“Why are neither of you in merge depletion?” Jaime wanted to know.
“The Attitude of Vitality makes merge depletion unnecessary.” I think.
“Yeah?” Jaime's tone was sarcastic. “Nifty thing, those Attitudes. What about that energy creature thing? You said he actually made your merger hold? You were merged5 for how long?”
Novella flinched internally. Already she knew she was past being able to think of Zena as an “energy creature thing.” He'd become something of a colleague — if he truly was sincere about working with them. “Zena Hendrian was a crucial part of the merge. His special ability to stabilize a merge made all the difference. Under the conditions we were subjected to in that other universe, even a merge3 would not have held up. Starguard Cenntl, we were in the merge5 for about ten minutes.”
“Impossible!” The others looked equally shocked. Even if they were not also High telepaths, they knew the merge5 state was extremely fragile.
“This being...” Peter spoke up, coughing. “You trust it, then?”
Novella could feel the mental pressure of Zena, listening in. “Don't worry,” she menttransed to him, then replied confidently, “I do. We'd asked him to commit fully to what we were doing, and he came through perfectly for us. I've talked to him since we demerged, and he is interested in possibly joining the Fleet or Guard... someday.”
Jaime snorted at that; others in the room raised eyebrows. Peter looked at Novella Aurand for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I look forward to meeting him.”
Zena, now slouching in the command chair on the control deck of the Andromedea — though Crater had asked him not to — blew out his breath in relief. He winked at the viewport and chuckled.
The meeting ended with the Commander General giving the order to return the Andromedea to Althaea for now. Austine came belatedly, and apologized to the rest of them, the cold pack still in hand. Sabella returned to the control deck, waving Zena out of the command chair as if it was a daily occurrence. Grinning, the entity sat in the Executive Officer's chair with his legs crossed, swinging his foot until Crater told him to stop.
*
Novella menttransed finally to Vekta, knowing he was still in his quarters even though he was invisible behind Powerlessness. “Vekta, we've been ordered to return to Althaea.”
There was no response for a long minute, then a weary reply came back: “Then it really is all over.”
“I want to see you. Please let me in?” she thought to him, sending concern and warmth.
Another pause. “Not yet. I just can't... yet. Please.”
She didn't have to emread him to know he was sore at heart, still anguished over his dreadful decision. “You don't have to endure this alone, not anymore, Vekta Rentclifv,” she sent back. Then she added, “Stander is on Pel.”
“I know. I felt when his potential was kicked open. I hope he doesn't resent that it happened like that.”
Novella autoported to her own quarters down the hall from his, and threw herself on her bed. Immediately the Freen in the room reached out to her, and she accepted its reaching frondiles. Cepting into Vekta's quarters, she realized he was not in similar contact with his Freen.
“Zena may want to join the Fleet or the Guard,” she said, hoping to get him talking.
“He'll be an asset to the Guard and of course to the Attitudinals,” Vekta replied simply. And said nothing more on the subject.
Is Vekta really hurting this much? If only I could at least... at least hug him, Novella mused. “Do you know about Austine?” she asked.
“I plan to stay on the Andromedea to command it until Austine dries out completely and goes through therapy to eliminate her reliance on alcohol for stress management,” Vekta said, surprising her. “After which time I will be leaving the Fleet to return to the Guard, most likely going to Draco to complete work on the Craters Trizero-Three and Trizero-Four. The twins will move to Draco as well. Austine will return to commanding the Andromedea after her rehabilitation.”
Leave the Fleet? Novella wanted to shout that at him, shocked. What about the Attitudes and what about our mental matching? Do you feel anything for me at all? But she could not say any of that. Not now; maybe no
t for a while. It also bewildered her that Vekta did not judge Austine for her alcohol abuse and wanted her reinstated as commander. But maybe he feels he cannot judge anyone when he judges himself the most...
After a long silence, Novella ventured to speak to him again. “I know you are aware of what I feel for you, Vekta... and I know that you know what the implications of our mental matching are, especially now that we've been in that deepmerge. I just want you to know that I will guard and harbor my feelings for you until the time comes when you can face them. I will be waiting for you.” She left him with a mental caress before closing herself off within Powerlessness as well.
Vekta stared at the ceiling, his throat tight. The intimate mental touch — and the subsequent silence — stabbed something deep inside that he did not want to awaken. A tear trickled down the side of his face from the corner of one eye.
He twitched abruptly as a Freen tendril came into contact with his hand. Then another... then another, until the Freen had enveloped him in a cocoon of frilly green softness and warmth.
“Little mother,” Vekta sent to it, wondering. “Is it so bad?”
The only response was a soft cooing sound so faint he wasn't sure he'd heard it.
In minutes, he was fast asleep in a blanket of peace that he had not known for well over a year.
Epilogue
The sky was crimson in sunset, deepening to maroon in the west. The massive yellow-orange giant, Pollux, lay heavy and immense, like a wall of blood on the eastern horizon of its second planet, Althaea. To the top edge of the view, close to the zenith, a tiny disk could be discerned, the huge fourth planet dominating the Pollux System, Thestias, visible even in daytime.
The Rentclifv twins sat before the picture window that looked out over the sprawling Fleet Headquaters complex, now black in silhouette on the horizon below the magnificent display. The sunset was glorious, even through the filtered window.
Since the last time they’d watched the setting of Pollux like this, so much had happened. Story and Cory Rentclifv had started their telepathy training, had met a strange creature resembling a muddie of the planet Orbglen, been dumped into a bubble in space, been rescued by yet another strange creature, an energy entity called Scorpa, and had met the dragonfly-like teleXandee who could see into other universes.
Now, weeks later, the muddie they called Pollunxanvega had been banished from the Perseus Arm, Scorpa was now Zena Hendrian, and the Telexans were hopefully going to resettle on Vega V, the planet Vriesia. The twins’ father, Major Colonel Vekta Rentclifv, was commanding the Defender Andromedea, still in the Gozgazel System where the personnel was involved in seeing to the interment of the deceased Taree personnel on the outpost station at Gozgazel Primary Alpha.
Cory turned from the window, blinking. “Still don’t like the sky here,” she muttered, then glanced over at her qother, who stood stock still, gazing at the darkened complex.
“Say, Cor,” the qild murmured, “you know, we’re growing up fast. Maybe it’s time to set our play fantasies aside for good and focus on our futures. You know… how we can make our Bapa proud of us.”
“Mmm, sure,” the girl replied, looking over at qer. “I guess you’re right. After all, we’ll be twelve Solar in a couple months. But focus how? You mean on school?” She wrinkled her nose; it was a sore subject.
“Yes, but more than that.” Story turned to face her finally. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“Hmm?” Cory twitched a shoulder. “I dunno. Fleet Institute, I guess. It’s kinda in the family.” Indeed, the twins’ father was a Fleet Colonel, their grandfather a retired Starguard, their uncle Verti was a Starguard, and their aunt Visti was a hotshot scout ship pilot in the Fleet. “I kinda want to be a pilot like Visti-fomi! How about you?”
The qild copied her gesture. “That would be fun… but I think I want to go into the Guard. I want to be a Starguard… be like Bapa.”
“Ehh?” More twitching; she resisted an impulse to capture her twin in a headlock. “Gotta do the Fleet first, though, right? Gonna go into CyEng, too?”
Story took a deep breath. “Tempting. I don’t know. Yeah, it’s kinda the family business. We’re James as well as Rentclifv. Not just Bapa and Grandmom, but Visti-fomi and Schuyler-bimi are CyEng, too. I might want to do something entirely different…” Qe trailed off, thoughtful.
Cory gave qer an exaggerated shrug. “Well, we’ve got time to decide! So… school?”
Qe grimaced, then relaxed qer features into a little smile finally. “School and all those cool lessons Crater set up for us.”
Qer sister warmed to the idea. “Mandreng, Singlang, astronomy, biology, and my favorite, MATHEMATICS!”
“And our physical training at Frostwise School…” Story dropped into a martial pose. “Tao mar, tennis, soccer. Gotta be fit for the Fleet or the Guard!”
Cory immediately adopted the same pose. “En garde!”
The qild laughed as qe engaged qer sister in a couple moves. “That’s fencing, not tao mar, Cor!”
*
They have indeed suffered no ill consequences, Thho thought, pleased that her student in the Attitudes — the children’s father — had been able to manage the unfortunate merger with his offspring — ugh, there is that word again — with a deft touch. Then her gaze shifted to the darkened wall, its red viewport light off. This… is another matter.
The Pelan looked within. Hmm, how long has THAT been there? She realized that Vekta had not come to the apartment long enough to examine the Crater 0002 at all. Curious, Thho utilized the Attitude of Temporality to examine the time-streams ahead. Oh…
She considered the children again, wondering. They have not noticed… whoa. Or, as Zena Hendrian might say…
Damn!
THE END
The Perseus Series continues in Book 3 with High Telepaths. Check out the teaser!
From High Telepaths:
“Let's do 'is, boys,” Visti called to them in the local patois of the miners.
“Ah, yeh,” came back a reply. Then the band — drums, saxaphone, guitar, and violin — started up their usual noisy theme song, a raucous cacophony that prompted the woozy stage manager to raise the curtain.
The offerings this night were fair; about fifteen miners sprawled over the assortment of mismatched tables and chairs. Visti scanned them, then spied her one friend sitting at the back. Relieved, she nodded in his direction; the man with a lazy smile raised his bottle to her. They weren't dating — not really.
“He left me for my sister, that damn fool mister.,” Visti sang, launching into a popular song.
She'd met him a month ago, a tall, deeply burnished man with sandy hair and that easy, tired smile who'd sent her a note via a waitress. “Wanna just talk? Convi, nutin more,” it said. Knowing a miner could be a good source of information, Visti had agreed. True to his word, he never made any advances on her, apparently just wanting a willing ear. And conversation, “convi,” he provided well, regaling her with stories of the mines of Muphro, though — so far — precious little about the terrorists and the rebel unrest on this planet.
The fear kept Visti tightly shielded, or as telepaths conventionally called it, “voided.” There were too many rumors. She'd even heard that the Distel had a portable version, and every single miner packed one of a variety of pistols that had found their way from the very few Communities which allowed firearms. That one of these tarnished, worn pistols could have been refurbished with the Distel mechanism was a risk she could not take.
Her friend, who called himself Jones Smit, carried one, too, of course. But he'd been quick to tell her he'd never fired it though he did keep it loaded. The miners liked to say that they packed heat to keep away the large desert spiders and the sharp-fanged gooney birds. Both nuisances had been unfortunately introduced to Muphro from space transports, their true origins unknown; it had even been rumored they came from Terra itself, though that notion was genera
lly laughed at. Visti had even seen a miner casually shoot a spider that had wandered into the club, its dark red body as large as a dinner plate.
Singing, she glanced around, her expression carefully confined to smiles and frequent eye contact — though most eyes thankfully settled only on the plunging neckline of her dress. Even voided, Visti could cast about her powerful perception to check out anything out of the ordinary. It was routine for her to cept each pistol for any “addition”, but though she had made herself familiar with the designs of the usual types, she had never found anything strange. Yet.
Visti was glad for the fear, its tickle down her spine a sharp reminder to fine tune her awareness at all times. It was too easy in this miserable place to fall into the collective hopelessness from the pain of too many hours of hard work and the exposure to the ever pervasive dust of the planet. The substance tinged clothes and pores with the greenish junka, the miner's name for junctanied, a substance used in explosives that was found in both the diamond and silver mines on the planet.
Here in the tavern, there were constant rumbles about junka, but Visti knew from her previous studies of the Muphroi rebels that little was known about exposure to the chemical, though there had been complaints about a “miner fever” that caused suicidal tendencies and a lower resistance to alcoholism. Arcturus Community, the government on Turus which ruled over the colony on Muphro, had ignored all complaints and had stubbornly refused admonitions from the Communities Congress on Thirdeye of Argus, the USC capital planet in the Argus Panoptes System.
As a Dracon, both alcoholic substances and chemical stimulants — anything affecting the delicate telepathic pathways of her mind — were to be strictly shunned. Undercover, Visti could not avoid exposure to junka; it had been a risk she'd accepted reluctantly. Alcohol she could not, being a social convention, but before coming she'd spent a good bit of time practicing with her mattformation abilities to neutralize the alcohol in those beverages.
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