Telepath

by Jolea M. Harrison

  Allie broke in as the XR-9 began shuddering. “Frazier, I’ve got communications back on-line.”

  Frazier blinked, the realization slow to dawn that the Star Destroyer must be too far away to block their ability to transmit. “Send a distress signal to Trea, requesting assistance. A lot of it.”

  “Sending an encrypted distress call,” Allie said, making that slight but important correction to the order.

  “Thanks, Allie.” Frazier smiled for a moment, and waited again.

  “Message received and acknowledged. Help is on the way.”

  Cheers erupted on the Bridge, but Frazier wondered if he’d just started a war with that request. The Star Destroyer’s immense capabilities made it a difficult ship to defeat. It was feasible that it could withstand an attack long enough for Kamien’s armada to reach Trea. He closed his eyes against the fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

  “Long range sensors are on line,” Boral reported, his voice filled with sudden relief. “The Destroyer is retreating. Course and heading indicate Cobalt as its destination. We’re in range of Trean space, and there’s our help.”

  Two star cruisers, twenty battle cruisers with a compliment of forty midrange x-class ships, and fifty smaller attack ships were all gathering to intercept them. Apparently enough of a deterrent for the Star Destroyer, but Frazier knew the big ship was capable of defeating that size attack force. He wondered why the Destroyer retreated. It gave him an uneasy feeling.

  As he sank down into the nearest chair, he looked at Dynan lying in Ralion’s arms, quiet and unmoving, except for the steady rise of his chest as he breathed. Frazier closed his eyes again, and managed a weak smile.

  Carryn breathed deeply, opening her eyes and leaned forward heavily. Frazier thought she never seemed so shaken and haggard. Carryn motioned to Geneal, and she moved to administer to her.

  “Report please,” she whispered, rubbing her temples. Her hands shook. Frazier quickly told her what he had ordered done, the result, and their current status. Carryn looked over at him, and smiled faintly. “You just earned yourself a medal, my friend,” she said, looking to the monitors over Dynan’s bed. “You can secure from battle stations.”

  “Are you sure? The Destroyer could come back before Drake’s forces can reach us.”

  “He’s not coming back,” she said. “He won’t enter Trean space. For now.”

  “Carryn,” Geneal said, looking at the monitors, her face worried. “Why isn’t Dynan waking up yet?”

  She smiled again. “He will. He just needs a little more time. He’ll come back. He’s safe now. In a place Maralt can’t find him.” She leaned and kissed him, putting her hand on his head. Carryn turned him gently, eyes closing briefly in relief as she pulled the covers down to examine his chest. “Whenever you’re ready,” she said, shuddering, and Frazier realized her strength was all but gone. “I’ll be right here. We’re all right here, Dynan.”

  ~*~

  Chapter 26

  Alurn stood watching from the entrance while the old man set Dynan on the bench by the wall, pacing in the narrow opening, waiting. The Hall of Transition wasn’t his favorite place. There was always the sensation of being pulled away from himself. He supposed it was even possible he could cross over, which would not be good for anyone, and was what kept him now from going to Dynan’s side. Gradyn Vall had to prepare the way, trying to stop what was already a growing imbalance. The High Bishop had to prepare himself for the sensation of being on the verge of being torn in two, since Alurn’s connection to him was very strong. And any time Alurn set foot within the Hall, it made the disparity greater. It felt like dying all over again.

  The High Bishop looked at him. “I’m ready. Come.”

  Alurn nodded and steeled himself against the assault on his being, trying to ignore it as he knelt beside his namesake. There was hardly anything left of Dynan, taken down to a level of insubstantiality that Alurn wasn’t so sure they could bring back, or if they managed it, what would be the result or who he would be. This kind of weakening took more than mere energy from a man. It was a soul-rending thing, something that would change who he was, maybe for the worse.

  “I didn’t think Maralt would go this far,” he said as he tried to gather enough substance to strengthen, finding little to work with. He’d have to draw on his own reserves of energy to bring Dynan back from this, causing more difficulties and imbalances that would manifest in the world in some dark, unpleasant form. There were dangers to meddling too much.

  “Can you tell if the seed is still there?” Gradyn asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “If Maralt took it...”

  Alurn shook his head. “I don’t think Dynan would have survived the loss. It was too deeply imbedded.”

  “But the part Dain held—”

  “We don’t know what happened. It’s possible, likely we’ve lost that part that Dain had, but as long as both aren’t taken, it may be enough. We’re close enough to it, but it’s not the end yet. Gradyn, I have to concentrate,” he said to stop the old man from interrupting again. The High Bishop had managed to keep his fear from Carryn, but couldn’t disguise it now. “You could have told her.”

  “I can’t tell her anything any more. The possibility of a mistake is too great,” he said, and then nodded. “Please, go ahead. Do what you can.”

  Alurn concentrated, pulling energy from within and giving it to Dynan, trying not to dwell on the chance that they had miscalculated. It was possible that Maralt had been driven down a darker road than anticipated, caused perhaps by the act of giving part of himself to Dynan and Dain. They would all need Maralt in the end, unsullied. His role was only partly preordained. Adiem would have something to say about it, some act to perpetrate on him, against him, to him. Alurn knew his brother had already reached Maralt, had started the corruption that was a necessary means to an end. Which sort of end was still undetermined.

  “Get away from my son.”

  Alurn jerked around, standing quickly to face this unexpected wrinkle in all the machinations. He’d forgotten about Shalael Telaerin. She stood before him, a force of pure energy, solidifying from the air into human from. The blonde hair flowed around her shoulders as though held up by an undulating wind. Her hands were held in such a position, open and fingers taut, that warned him she might strike if he didn’t obey her. He backed away, his own hands raised and open in the hopes of convincing her he meant no harm, but with the duel purpose of shielding himself and Gradyn should the charge Alurn saw gathering at her fingertips be unleashed.

  As with every woman he’d ever known in his life, she was fully capable of wrecking every carefully laid plan.

  “I’m trying to save him,” he said, motioning to Gradyn to keep quiet.

  That too was wishful thinking.

  “Shalael, you mustn’t interfere with this,” the High Bishop said, taking a step toward her.

  Hers was a kind of fury, raw and wild, Alurn has seen only once before – in Fadril, when she faced down Adiem as he thought to take her sons from her.

  “Gradyn, please,” he said quickly, “telling her she can’t interfere will very likely get us both snuffed out of existence. She has every right to be here.”

  “How dare you,” she said when he thought his words would mollify her. “You stand there, clothed in arrogance, suggesting that I’m interfering? After the mess you’ve created, you’re the one without right or reason to be here.”

  “If Dynan recovers,” Gradyn went on as if he hadn’t heard the warnings, “and he sees you, how will we ever convince him to leave you again, Princess.”

  “You will do nothing, old man,” she said. “You ask too much of him.”

  “We do,” Alurn said, easing over so that he stood more fully between her and the High Bishop. “We believe in him, and that, Shalael, is why we ask so much. We’ve lost nearly everything we’ve tried so hard to protect. If we lose him, we lose it all.”

  “Why do you think I’m here?�
�� she said, and turned to her son. “Leave us.”

  “I—”

  “You aren’t supposed to be in here anyway,” she said, flicking her hand at him and a crackling pop went off right in front of him. Alurn backed up again. “I’ll not have you mucking this up. Not when the soul of my son is so at risk. Go tend to the Orbs. It’s where you belong.”

  Alurn felt himself pushed, recovering to find himself outside the Hall with Gradyn beside him. For a moment they stood there, stunned to find themselves so easily and readily dismissed. “I didn’t think anyone had a worse temper than Fadril.”

  “She was always fiercely protective of him.”

  Alurn looked into the Hall but couldn’t see for the blazing light that now poured toward him, blinding him until he couldn’t look anymore. “I’m going to go ‘tend the Orbs’ since that’s all I’m seemingly capable of managing.”

  Gradyn hummed, turning from the Hall. “I would disagree with her, but...”

  “I know,” Alurn said, unable to take himself too far from the room.

  “We did ‘muck it up’.”

  “Maybe I’ll go to Hell after all.”

  “Maybe we both will.”

  ~*~

  Chapter 27

  The days they remained onboard the XR-9 turned to months, while Dynan slowly recovered. They stayed in a close orbit around Trea, and Drake kept his fleet on first alert status to protect them. A relief, Carryn thought, and far better than battle status.

  She learned that rumor of Dain’s death reached Cobalt, and Carryn did everything she could to implicate Kamien. Gemern Taldic was far more useful in that campaign, and the results soon became apparent.

  A new tide of exiles began arriving at the Base, only this time they weren’t soldiers, but refugees. Plain people afraid of what was happening to their home, some afraid for their lives, and they made their way to Trea. Before Carryn allowed them on the Base, she had each story checked, discovering what she could from their limited access to Cobalt’s System files. That access wouldn’t be possible at all except for the skill of Allie Ahreld. Carryn often wondered how her Communications Chief was able to break code after code, and get the information she needed.

  Young and old, the frightened people of Cobalt came to Trillian. Carryn soon found she had a housing problem. They made do with little complaint. Those that could, men and women alike, joined Dynan’s growing ranks, offering what skills they had. For the most part those were lacking, but Boral set up remedial training courses, promoting those already in the ranks to new areas of specialization.

  Carryn went back and forth from the XR-9 to Trillian, but she never spent longer than a day from Dynan’s side. She watched him now, sleeping fitfully, muttering often, his agitation growing. The same dream.

  Overwhelmed with guilt at her complete failure to keep Dynan and Dain safe, she considered resigning her position. The horror of Maralt’s actions haunted her. Rage too strong to ignore compelled her to go hunt down her brother, and kill him. The moment she recovered enough, she went to Drake. The King adamantly refused to allow it. After a time, Carryn realized he was right, and that her place was at Dynan’s side.

  The Prince stirred again, his desperation growing. Carryn leaned, and set her hand on his head, waking him from the nightmare. He was getting better at recovering from them, or better at hiding the tremendous effort it took for him to face waking and life.

  “There’s something I want to show you,” she said after Dynan had woken up a bit. She noted the growing hollowness of his face. Geneal couldn’t get him to eat, and the loss of weight, already accentuated by his earlier illness, was more apparent now.

  Dynan sat up, having fallen asleep on the couch in the makeshift sitting room outside his Medic bedroom. He hadn’t expressed any willingness to leave the confines of the Medic Center. Carryn hoped that today she could entice him out.

  “Wh-what?” he asked, his voice hardly a whisper.

  “It’s a surprise.” Carryn smiled. “No, come on. You’ve been in here long enough. You need to see this. Drake has, once again, gone to some extraordinary lengths for us. He’s anxious to hear what you think.”

  With a reluctance that was painful to see, Dynan agreed, and stood slowly. “I don’t...I don’t think...” he said, stuttering. He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

  “There’s no one here except Geneal. The others are at the Base. There’s the regular crew, but the way we’re going through the ship is very private.”

  Again, Dynan nodded. Carryn turned from the haunted eyes that seemed to accuse her, and led him from the Medic Center. She turned into the corridor outside the arched entrance, moving down to the lift door. Once inside she set the commands for deck fourteen. A voice startled them both, demanding the proper access code.

  Dynan cast her an uncertain glance, but remained silent. His expression changed again when the lift opened. Before them, a set of wooden double doors stood closed. Dynan frowned quizzically at the incongruity of having wooden doors onboard a space ship.

  What he saw inside really astounded him, and he smiled briefly. It was the first bit of animation Carryn had seen in him since his waking. A wide carpeted staircase rose to the next levels, and continued down one flight as well. Paintings hung on the walls. One drew Dynan’s immediate attention, and he moved for a closer look at the Telaerin Palace perched on the cliff above the Wythe Sea. Statuettes of gold, marble and carved stone rested on equally ornate pedestals.

  “What...what is...” Dynan said as they went up, looking around at the lavish setting.

  “Drake’s idea. He said he didn’t want you and Dain to forget what it was like to live in decent surroundings. I think he started planning this when I told him about Bador’s cave.”

  Dynan glanced at her, almost shrinking away at the mention of Dain, but then he nodded. The floor they were on held a small dining area, and offices for each of the Command staff; the third floor, their sleeping quarters, but it was the fourth floor that really amazed him.

  A window wall stretched from one end of the large foyer and sitting area to the other, each panel framed by draperies of royal blue. Beneath the ship, Trea turned, filling the view. “This is...really nice. Tell...tell Drake I said thank you.”

  “I will. There’s one other place you should visit, and then I’ll show you to your quarters.” Carryn moved over to the only metal door in the entire area, provoking another curious look from Dynan, and opened it.

  Inside, a garden glistened in light. The smells of fresh plants and flowers billowed out to greet them. Carryn heard Dynan pull in a long breath. Then she saw Drake and Xavier walking along the stone path that wound through the Arbor, and Dynan’s smile changed instantly to dread.

  “Carryn, I t-told you I didn’t...I can’t. Pl-Please.”

  “I didn’t know he was here, Dynan,” she said, swearing under her breath as Drake noticed them.

  “I can’t,” Dynan said, turning his back to Drake. “I can’t.”

  “All right. It’s all right,” Carryn said quickly, seeing his dread turn to panic. “Your rooms are just around the corner. Go on. Drake will understand.”

  Dynan hardly nodded, and bolted from the garden, leaving Carryn to explain to a confused Drake Mardon. “I’m sorry,” Drake said. “I should have warned you. I didn’t think. He must know we all understand, and how badly we feel for him.”

  “He does know. It’s not that. He can’t face it yet. Geneal and I are the only ones he can manage to be around without completely breaking down. While I don’t think it’s good for him to isolate himself, right now it’s necessary. He hasn’t been out of bed for more than a week at a time, and the effort of talking to even Ralion and Sheed sent him back for three days.”

  Drake shook his head, turning from her, and looked up at the curved ceiling. “We should have brought them back here, kept them here. Dain would be alive now.”

  “No, Drake. Dain was right from the beginning. We couldn’t risk having them h
ere, jeopardizing the Base and your System.”

  “How much more of this do you think he can stand, Carryn, or any of us?”

  “He’ll be all right. He may not ever be the same again, but he’ll survive this. He has to.” Drake nodded mutely, still staring upward, and Carryn went on. “He asked me to thank you for what you’ve done here. Actually managed a smile over it; the first I’ve seen since we got him back, so I’ll add my thanks too. You probably couldn’t afford to do this, but I’m sure it will help him.”

  Drake nodded again, wiped his eyes, and turned back when he’d gotten himself composed. “Xavier and I were discussing your plans to leave again. Are you sure that’s wise, considering Dynan’s emotional state?”

  “We aren’t planning to go for another month actually. It’ll take him a lot longer than that to recover, if he ever can, but I have to consider other factors. We’ve been in one place long enough. We have to protect the Base, and we have to protect you. Kamien has shown himself confident enough to deploy the Star Destroyer, and that means he may come here next. I know you don’t think he would dare, but I’m not willing to take that chance. We’ll continue as before, keep moving and hopefully ensure the time we need by doing so.”

  “And if Dynan is killed?”

  “I’m going with him. I’ll do my best to keep him safe. We’ve learned a lot about what Maralt can do, and what we can do to stop him. We’ve also made plans for a little surprise for him. It may take time to implement, but I’m not going to sit by any longer, leaving him to hunt us down. I’m going to kill him, Drake, and if I can’t, I’m going to hurt him badly enough to give us all a breathing space.”

  “I wish you all the luck in that,” Drake said. He reached in his pocket, looking at the items he held briefly before handing them to Carryn. Dynan and Dain’s signet rings and crest pins gleamed in his hand. “I think he should have these back, considering the problems he had getting in to see Creal. He doesn’t need to wear them openly, but he’ll have them if needed. I thought he might like having Dain’s too.”