She signaled the pilot to set the hovering skycab down.
“This meeting is fortunate,” she said quietly. “Get into this cariole, and ride with me."
Matt obeyed, mostly because he lacked, at the moment, the ingenuity to form an acceptable excuse. He climbed in; the skycab began to ascend again over the city. It seemed a long time before Cassiana said, “Bet’ is at the Archonate. I have made a finding the most unfortunate. Understand me, Legate, you are in situation of the baddest."
“I know,” Matt said grimly. His wife's dislike of Cassiana suddenly became reasonable to him. He had never been alone with a telepath before, and it made him a little giddy. There was almost a physical vibration in the small woman's piercing gaze. Cassiana's mangling of Galactic Standard—she spoke it better than her husband, but still abominably—was another irritation which Matt tried to hide. As if in answer to his unspoken thought, Cassiana switched to her own language. “Why did you come to Megaera?"
What a fool question, Matt thought irritably. Why did any man take a diplomatic post? “My government sent me."
“But not because you liked Megaera, or us? Not because you wanted to live here, or cared about Terrans and Centaurians getting along? Not because you cared about the space station?"
Matt paused, honestly surprised. “No,” he said, “I suppose not.” Then annoyance triumphed. “How can we live together? Your people don't travel in space. Ours can't live in health or ordinary comfort on this—this stinking planet! How can we do anything but live apart and leave you to yourselves?"
Cassiana said slowly, “We wanted, once, to abandon this colony. For all Terra cared, we could live or die. Now they have found out their lost property might be worth—"
Matt sighed. “The Imperialists who abandoned Megaera have all been dead for hundreds of years,” he pointed out wearily. “Now, we have to have some contact with your planet, because of the political situation. You know that. No one is trying to exploit Megaera."
“I know that,” she admitted. “Perhaps fifty other people on the whole planet realize that. The rest are one seething mass of public opinion, and under the anti-propaganda laws, we can't change that.” She stopped. “But I didn't want to talk politics. Why did you bring Bet’ here, Legate?"
Matt bit his lip. Under her clear eyes he told the truth. “Because I knew a single man couldn't succeed at this post."
Cassiana mused. “It's a pity. It's almost certain that this affair will close out the Legation here. No married man will want to come, and we cannot accept a single man in such an important position. It is against our most respected tradition for a man to remain single after he is mature. Our only objection to your space station is the immense flood of unattached personnel who will come here to build it—drifters, unmarried men, military persons—such an influx would throw Megaera into confusion. We would be glad to accept married colonists who wanted to settle here."
“You know that's impossible!” Matt said.
“Maybe,” Cassiana said thoughtfully. “It is a pity. Because it is obvious that the Terrans need Megaera, and Megaera needs some outside stimulus. We're turning stagnant.” She was silent for a minute. Then she continued, “But I'm talking politics again. I suppose I wanted to see if it was in you to be honest. Perhaps, if you had grown angry sooner, been less concerned with polite formalities—angry men are honest men. We like honesty, we rhu'ad."
Matt's smile was bitter. “We are conditioned in courtesy. Honesty comes second."
“A proof that you are not suited to a society where any fraction of the population is telepathic.” said Cassiana bluntly. “But that is not important. This is—Bet’ is in very real danger. Legate. I promise nothing—even we Centaurians die sometimes—but if you will let her live at the Archonate for three, maybe four of your months—I think I can promise you she'll live. And probably the baby, too."
Hope seethed in Matt. “You mean—go into seclusion—"
“That, and more,” said Cassiana gravely. “You must not attempt to see her yourself, and you must keep your entire Legation from knowing where she is, or why. That includes your personal friends and your officials. Can you do this? If not, I promise nothing."
“But that isn't possible—"
Cassiana dismissed the protest. “It is your problem. I am not a Terran, I don't know how you wilt manage it."
“Does Beth want to—"
“At this moment, no. You are her husband, and it is your child's life at stake. You have authority to order her to do it."
“We don't think of things that way on Terra. I don't—"
“You are not on Terra now,” Cassiana reminded him flatly.
“Can I see Beth before I decide? She'll want to make arrangements, pack her things—"
“No, you must decide here, now. It may already be too late. As for her ‘things!” the pearly eyes held delicate scorn, “she must have nothing from Terra near her."
“What kind of rubbish is that?” Matt demanded. “Not even her clothes?"
“I will provide anything she needs,” Cassiana assured him. “Believe me, it is necessary. No—don't apologize. Anger is honesty."
“Look,” Matt suggested, still trying to compromise acceptably. “I'll want her to see a Terran doctor, first, the authorities—"
Without warning, Cassiana lost her temper.
“You Terrans,” she exploded, in a gust of fury that was like a physical blow. “You stupid lackwit from a planet of insane authoritarians, I told you—you must say nothing to anyone! This isn't a political matter, it's her life, and your child's! What can your so-called authorities do?"
“What can you do?” Matt shouted back. Protocol went overboard. The man and woman from two alien star systems glared at each other across a thousand years of evolution.
Then Cassiana said coldly, “That is the first sensible question you have asked. When our planet was—jettisoned as useless—we had to acquire certain techniques the hard way. I can't tell you exactly what. It isn't allowed. If that answer is not adequate, I am sorry. It is the only answer you will ever get. Wars have been fought on Megaera because the rhu'ad have refused to answer that question. We've been hounded and stoned, and sometimes worshiped. Between science and religion and politics, we've finally worked out the answer, but I have never told even my husband. Do you think I would tell a—a bureaucrat from Terra? You can accept my offer or refuse it—now."
Matt looked over the windbreak of the cariole at the wideflung roofs of the city. He felt torn with terrible indecision. Reared in a society of elaborately delegated responsibilities, it went against all his conditioning—how could one man make a decision like this? How could he explain Beth's absence? What would his government say if they discovered that he had not even consulted the medical authorities? Still, the choice was bald—Bonner had made it very clear that he had no hope. It was: trust Cassiana, or watch Beth die. And the death would be neither quick nor easy.
“All right,” he said, pressing his lips together. “Beth—Beth doesn't like you, as you probably know, and I'll be—I'll be everlastingly damned if I know why you are doing this! But I—I can't see any other way out. This isn't a very polite way to put it, but it was you who insisted on honesty. Go ahead. Do what you can. I—” his voice suddenly strangled, but the little rhu'ad did not take the slightest notice of his losing struggle for self-control. With an air of remote detachment, she directed the driver of the cariole to set him down before the Residence.
During the brief ride there, she did not speak a word. Only when the cariole settled on the public skyport did she raise her head. “Remember,” she said quietly, “you must not call at the Archonate, or attempt to see Bet'. If you have business with the Archon, you must arrange to meet him elsewhere. That will not be easy."
“Cassiana—what can I say—"
“Say nothing,” she advised, not smiling, but there was a glint in the pearly eyes. In a less reserved face, it might have been friendly amusement. “Sometimes
men are more honest that way."
She left him staring dumbly upward as the cariole climbed the sky once more.
* * * *
When Cassiana—no longer friendly, but reserved and rigid—had brought the news that Matt had commanded her to stay, Beth had disbelieved—had shouted her hysterical disbelief and terror until Cassiana turned and walked out, locking the door behind her. She did not return for three days. Beth saw no one but an old lady who brought her meals and was, or pretended to be, deaf. In that time, Beth lived through a million emotions; but at the end of three days, when Cassiana came back, she looked at Beth with approval.
“I left you alone,” she explained briefly, “to see how you reacted to fear and confinement. If you could not endure it, I could have done nothing for you. But I see you are quite calm."
Beth bit her lip, looking down at the smaller woman. “I was angry,” she admitted. “I didn't think it was necessary to treat me like a child. But somehow I don't think you would have done it without good reason."
Cassiana's smile was a mere flicker. “Yes. I can read your mind a little—not much. I'm afraid you will be a prisoner again, for some time. Do you mind much? We'll try to make it easy for you."
“I'll do whatever you say,” Beth promised calmly, and the rhu'ad nodded. “Now, I think you mean that, Bet'."
“I meant it when I said it before!” Beth protested.
“Your brain, and your reason, said if. But a pregnant woman's reasoning faculties aren't always reliable. I had to be certain that your emotions would back up your reason in the event of a shock. Believe me, you'll get some shocks."
But so far there had been none, although Cassiana had not exaggerated in the slightest when she said Beth would be a prisoner. The Terran woman was confined closely in two rooms on the ground floor—a level rarely used in a Centaurian house—and saw no one but Cassiana, Nethle and a servant or two. The rooms were spacious—even luxurious—and the air was filtered by some process which—while it did not diminish the distinctive smell—was somehow less sickening, and easier to breathe. “This air is just as dangerous, chemically, as that outdoors,” Cassiana cautioned her. “Don't think that this, alone, makes you safe. But it may make you a little more comfortable. Don't go outside these rooms."
But she kept her promise to make imprisonment easy for Beth. Nethle, too, had recovered from her hysterical attack, and was punctiliously cordial. Beth had access to Cassiana's library—one of the finest tape collections on the planet—although, from a little judicious searching—Beth decided that Cassiana had removed tapes on some subjects she thought the Terran woman should not study too closely—and when Cassiana learned that Beth knew the rather rare art of three-dimensional painting, she asked her guest to teach her. They made several large figures, working together. Cassiana had a quick, artistic sensitivity which delighted Beth, and she swiftly mastered the complicated technique. The shared effort taught them a good deal about each other.
But there was much inconvenience which Cassiana's kindness could not mitigate. With each advancing day, Beth's discomfort became more acute. There was pain, and sickness, and a terrible feeling of breathlessness—for hours she would lie fighting for every breath. Cassiana told her that her system, in the hormone allergy, had lost the ability, in part, to absorb oxygen from the bloodstream. She broke out in violent rashes which never lasted more than a few hours, but recurred every few days. The ordinary annoyances of early pregnancy were there, too, magnified a hundred times. And during the electric storms, there was a strange reaction, a taut pain as if her body were a conductor for the electricity itself. She wondered if this pain were psychosomatic or genuinely symptomatic, but she never knew.
For some reason, the sickness receded when Cassiana was in the room, and as the days slid past. Cassiana was with her almost constantly, once or twice even sleeping in the same room, on a cot pushed close to Beth's. Unexpectedly, one day, Beth asked her, “Why do I always feel better when you are in the room?” Cassiana did not answer for a minute. All the morning, they had been working on a three-dimensional painting. The floor was scattered with eyepieces and pigments, and Cassiana picked up an eyepiece and scanned a figure in the foreground before she even turned around to Beth. Then she disengaged her painting cone, and began to refill it with pigment.
“I wondered when you would ask me that. A telepath's mind controls her body, to some extent—that's a very rough way of putting it, but you don't know enough about psychokinetics to know the difference. Well—when we are working together, as we have been today, your mind is in what we telepaths call vibratory harmony with mine, and you are able to pick up, to a very slight degree, my mental projections. And they, in turn, react on your body."
“You mean you control your body by thinking?"
“Everybody does that.” Cassiana smiled faintly. “Yes, I know what you mean. I can, for instance, control reflexes which are involuntary in—in normal people. Just as easily as you would flex or relax a muscle in your arm, I can control my heartbeat, blood pressure, uterine contractions—” she stopped abruptly, then finished, “and I can control gross reflexes, such as vomiting, in others—if they come within the kinetic field.” She put down the spinning-cone. “Look at me, and I'll show you what I mean."
Beth obeyed. After a moment, Cassiana's gilt hair began to darken. It grew darker, darker, till the shining strands were the color of clear honey. Cassiana's cheeks seemed to lose their pearly luster, to turn pinker. Beth blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Are you controlling my mind so I think your skin and hair are changing color?” she asked suspiciously.
“You overestimate my powers! No, but I concentrated all the latent pigment in my skin into my hair. We rhu'ad can look almost as we choose, within certain limits—I couldn't, for instance, make my hair as dark as yours. There simply isn't enough melanin in my pigment. Even this much color wouldn't last, unless I wanted to alter my adrenalin balance permanently. I could do that, too, but it wouldn't be sensible. My hair and skin will change back to rhu'ad during the day—we keep our distinctive coloring, because it's a protection against being harmed or injured accidentally. We are important to Megaera—” abruptly she stopped again, and a mask of reticence slid down on her face. She re-engaged the spinning-cone and began to weave a surface pattern in the frame.
Beth. persisted. “Can you control my body too?"
“A little,” said Cassiana shortly. “Why do you think I spend so much time with you?
Snubbed, Beth took up her spinning-cone and began to weave depth into Cassiana's surface figure. After a minute, Cassiana relented and smiled, “Oh, yes, I enjoy your company too—I did not at first, but I do now."
Beth laughed, a little shamefacedly. She had begun to like Cassiana very much—once she had grown accustomed to Cassiana's habit of answering what Beth was thinking, instead of what she had said.
* * * *
Weeks slid into months. Beth had now lost all desire to go out of doors, although she dutifully took what slight exercise Cassiana required of her. The rhu'ad now remained with her almost continually. Although Beth was far too ill to study Cassiana, it finally became apparent even to her that Cassiana herself was far from well. The change in the rhu'ad was not marked; a tenseness in her movements, a pallor—Beth could not guess the nature of her ailment. But in spite of this, Cassiana watched over Beth with careful kindliness. Had she been Cassiana's own child, Beth thought, the rhu'ad could not have cared for her more solicitously.
Beth did not know that she was so dangerously ill as to shock Cassiana out of her reserve. She could not walk more than a step or two without nausea and a shooting, convulsive pain. The nights were a horror. She knew faintly that they had given her oxygen several times, and even this had left her half asphyxiated. And although it was now past the time when her child should have quickened, she had felt no stir of life. Half the time she was dizzy, as if drugged. In her rare moments of lucidity, it disturbed her that Cassiana should spend her strength in
tending her. But when she tried to voice this, Cassiana returned only a terse, hostile, “You think of yourself and I will take care of myself, and you too."
But once, when Cassiana thought Beth asleep, Beth heard her mutter aloud, “Its too slow! I can't wait much longer—I'm afraid!"
No news from the Terran sector penetrated her seclusion. She missed Matt, and wondered how he had managed to conceal her long absence. But she did not spend much time wondering; life, for her, had been stripped bare of everything except the fight for survival in each successive day. She had slipped so far down into this vegetable existence that she actually shuddered when Cassiana asked her one morning, “Do you feel well enough to go out of doors?” She dressed herself obediently, but roused a little when Cassiana held a heavy bandage toward her. There was compassion in her eyes.
“I must blindfold you. No one may know where the kail’ rhu'ad is. It is too holy."
Beth frowned pettishly. She felt horribly ill, and Cassiana's mystical tone filled her with disbelieving disgust. Cassiana saw, and her voice softened.
She said persuasively, “You must do this. Bet'. I promise I will explain everything some day."
“But why blindfold me? Won't you trust me not to tell, if it's secret?"
“I might trust you and I might not,” Cassiana returned coldly. “But there are 10,000 rhu'ad on Megaera, and I am doing this on my single responsibility.” Then suddenly her hands clenched so tightly on Beth's that the Terran woman almost cried out with pain, and she said harshly, “I can die too, you know! The Terran women who have died here, don't you think anyone ever tried—” her voice trailed off, indistinct, and suddenly she began to cry softly.
It was the first time since Beth had known her that the rhu'ad had betrayed any kind of emotion. Cassiana sobbed, “Don't fight me, Bet', don't! Both our lives may depend on your personal feelings about me in the next few days—I can't reach you when you're hating me! Try not to hate me so much—"
“I don't hate you, Cassiana,” Beth breathed, shocked, and she drew the Centaurian girl close and held her, almost protectively, until the stormy weeping quieted and Cassiana had herself under control again.
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