Shola, the Governor’s Palace, Zhal-Oeshi, 15th day (August)
“The wages you’re paying them now, Raiban, are barely enough for them to continue working for you!” said Rhyaz angrily to the Head of the High Command.
“Don’t blame me, Rhyaz,” she said, tapping her stylus against the tabletop. “Our budget’s almost used up for this half year. We’re only deducting standard costs for munitions and laundry, nothing more.”
“You’re making them pay for their meals. They’re included for the Forces, and were for our people until now.”
“We’re spread thinner now that we’re monitoring around the M’zullian and J’kirtikkian sectors, Rhyaz. I’m sorry, but there have to be cuts from nonessential areas.”
“Since when were training and deep reconnaissance missions considered nonessential?”
“I’m using more of our Forces people. It’s time they got involved in those missions.”
Konis Aldatan stirred. “Rhyaz has a valid argument, Raiban,” he said. “Your budget included funding to hire the Brotherhood for certain regular services, which you’ve now either drastically reduced or cut completely. You’re surely saving enough money in those areas without going to the lengths of charging them for meals and ammunition used when training Forces personnel.”
“I’m ruled by my treasury department, Konis, just as you are by yours. It’s not my choice.”
Rhyaz hissed in disbelief, but as a gesture from Konis, he fell silent.
“That’s not the issue. President Nesul wants a compromise from both of you.”
“My hands are tied, Konis,” said Raiban, laying her stylus down and leaning her chair back on its rear legs. “I can do nothing until new funds are released next month. If the Brotherhood were an integrated part of our Forces, then what we’d save on processing various wage and equipment claims might well pick up the shortfall we need.”
“That’s a load of crap and you know it,” snarled Rhyaz, getting to his feet. “I’ve had enough, Konis. As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is over.” He turned and stalked out, tail swaying angrily.
Raiban waited until the door of Konis’ office had slammed before speaking. “Is it my imagination, or is our Guild Master a little more short-tempered than usual?”
“Raiban, don’t treat me like a fool,” said Konis. “No one has any illusions about what you’re doing, we just can’t prove it. Mark me well, you’re being extremely foolish in making enemies of them.”
“The Brotherhood doesn’t frighten me, Konis,” said Raiban. “Vindictiveness isn’t their style. Revenge, yes, but not over this footling little business.”
“You minimize the importance of freedom to the Brotherhood at your own peril,” said Konis. “And there’s the small matter of Kha’Qwa. If I were you, I’d not be pushing Rhyaz and Lijou so hard.”
Raiban’s chair sat upright with a crash. “Hold on a minute, Konis! There’s no way I can be held responsible for what happened to Kha’Qwa!”
“Legally, no, but morally, yes. You intended to frighten her, played on her emotional state knowing she was pregnant. You’ve never even offered an apology for what happened.”
“Dammit, Konis, you’ve no right to moralize over this! And what the hell has it to do with Rhyaz?”
“Raiban, take a lesson from what happened to Chuz,” said Konis, getting to his feet. “You’re in danger of becoming him.” He turned and began to walk out.
“What do you mean by that?” demanded Raiban, jumping up and following him.
“Perhaps it’s the position that changes the incumbent,” mused Konis, opening the door and heading out into the corridor. “Ambition is a terrible master, Raiban, a terrible master, as Esken discovered.” He stopped and turned to look at her. “He lives quietly now, you know. Doesn’t attend any of the functions Master Sorli has held at the Telepath Guild since he took over. Nice to see him injecting some life and youth into the Guild, don’t you think?” Then the vague look on his face left as he spotted his aide coming toward him.
“Falma! Just who I wanted,” he said, heading purposefully over to him. As he did, he mentally touched Raiban’s mind, listening in to her surface thoughts. They were exactly what he wanted. Troubled. She was going to look more deeply into the matter of Esken’s stroke, see if the Brotherhood had indeed had anything to do with it and his sudden departure from his Guild on the grounds of ill health.
Konis smiled. She’d find nothing to link the Brotherhood to that, but it might just make her think more clearly about her attitude toward them. Fear could be a great teacher: Raiban should know, she used it as a matter of course. It was about time the tables were turned on her. He must, however, warn Rhyaz and Lijou of what he’d done.
*
He found Lijou in his office beside the Palace’s Shrine to Vartra. The Head Priest looked up as Konis entered.
“Well met, Konis,” he said. “You’re lucky to catch me. I was just about to leave. Rhyaz is already waiting for me in our vehicle. What can I do for you?”
As Konis told him of his session with Raiban and Rhyaz, the priest’s brow began to crease, his ears folding to the side in anger.
“It’s only because of Kha’Qwa and Rhyaz that I haven’t ordered some action to be taken against her,” Lijou said. “What she did was unforgivable.” The stylus he held in his hand snapped. He looked at it in surprise before putting the pieces down carefully on his desk.
Shocked at his normally mild friend’s outburst, Konis had nothing to say.
“What would you do if it had happened to Rhyasha, Konis?” said Lijou, seeing the look on his face. “You’d want to tear her limb from limb, wouldn’t you?” He sighed and forced himself to relax. “That’s why Rhyaz encourages me to turn my energies in other directions.”
“Like the alien contracts?” he asked quietly.
Lijou looked at him sharply, then smiled. “Of course, you were called up to Chagda Station that day, weren’t you?”
“Is what you’re doing wise, Lijou?”
“Very wise. We can see more clearly where the danger to Shola lies, and we don’t have the interminable infrastructure of the Forces to slow down our decision making. We can act the minute we identify a problem.”
“Not very democratic, though,” said Konis.
“Neither is the threat we face,” he countered. “For too long we’ve been used as the Forces’ cannon fodder, sent to hold hopeless positions, scouting deep within enemy lines, all missions with little chance of survival for our people. Our original purpose has been debased, Konis. You know that, you’ve read the ancient records. It’s long past time we broke free and defended our world and species the way Vartra intended. You admit that to yourself, even if to no one else, otherwise you wouldn’t support us when you can. I’ll pass on your message to Rhyaz and I can’t say I’m sorry you’ve managed to shake her arrogance. It’s about time someone did.”
“Thank you. How are things at Stronghold? Rhyaz was definitely not himself today.”
“He’s tired,” said Lijou, beginning to gather his papers and comp pad into a pile. “The two new Humans have kept us on our guard this past week. They’ve been into everything, even trying to break the security codes on our comm system. Thankfully, they aren’t fluent enough in our written language to be too great a danger yet. Once we managed to identify their areas of expertise, we arranged classes for them and intensified our security. Our cryptology department considers them an entertaining Challenge. They’re beginning to settle down now they know we’re not trying to make them conform. I’ve got Tamghi and Kora training them to use their psi abilities.”
“That’s not quite what I meant, though I’m glad to hear they’re settling in.”
“Nothing,” said Lijou, getting up. His hand hesitated over the broken stylus then swept it resolutely into the bin. “Nothing has resolved itself. Yes, he’s gene-altered, tests confirm that, but they aren’t. Alex has figured out enough to know we’re keeping them at Stron
ghold because Rhyaz seems drawn to her in some way, and she’s running him ragged. Whenever they’re in the same area, she finds excuses to talk to him, blowing first pleasant then arrogant, tying him in mental knots because he doesn’t know how to respond. Lately he’s been staying in his office as much as possible. Lyand has taken over his classes for the time being.”
“I don’t blame him. Younglings of that age can be very trying.”
“We only have to remember Zhyaf and Mara to know that,” said Lijou, picking up his belongings and stuffing them in his briefcase. “I hope we’re wrong, Konis, and this is nothing. Are you sure it wouldn’t be better to send them to the Telepath Guild so there’s no chance of any Link forming?”
“It wouldn’t do any good. If it’s meant to happen, the Link will form even if we try to separate them. All we can do is wait.”
Lijou sighed. “I forget my manners. How are things with you?”
“Fine,” said Konis, getting up. “You know the TeLaxaudin from the Kz’adul is staying on my son’s estate, don’t you?”
“Yes. And I heard the good news about Shi and Raza,” said Lijou as they walked to the door.
“I saw them just before they were due to be released from the hospital. The change was unbelievable, Lijou. They’ll never function as telepaths again, but they went from a vegetative state to being capable of doing quite complex tasks and sustaining a conversation. They’ll be able to lead relatively normal lives now.”
“Their clans must be delighted. How did he do it? All I heard was that it was a new surgical procedure.”
“It was. He used a series of microscopic implants— processors or something, Annuur said there isn’t a word for them in our language— inside their brains. They take over the functions of the damaged areas. The TeLaxaudin has promised to teach our surgeons the technique, and provide us with the implants. It opens a whole new era in restorative brain surgery.”
“And ultimately, hope for Kusac,” said Lijou, opening the door. “Has Kzizysus said anything about that yet?”
“He’s still researching it, though he learned a lot from working with Shi and Raza. I live in hope, Lijou,” said Konis. “We all do.”
“You know Kha’Qwa’s and my thoughts and prayers are with him,” said Lijou as he locked the door behind them.
“Thank you,” said Konis. “It’s appreciated, believe me. Let me know if anything changes for Rhyaz.”
“I will,” said Lijou as they separated, each to go his own way.
Stronghold, Zhal-Oeshi, 16th day (August)
It took Lijou a moment or two to recognize the gray-robed figure leaning against the banister rail at the top of the staircase as Rhyaz.
“Unusual to see you dressed like this,” he said quietly, stopping beside him.
“It’s a stronger reminder of my rank than our uniform jackets,” Rhyaz said shortly. “I need to distance myself from them for a while.”
Lijou followed his gaze down to the ground level where the students were milling around as they changed classes. Sure enough, he saw Alex, clearly visible with her friend Kai, both wearing their brightly colored Terran clothing.
“Watching her again?”
“I can’t help it. She’s like a drug, Lijou,” he said, forcing himself to turn away from the view and looking bleakly at him. “Only there’s no cure I can see for this addiction. Dammit, I’m a Guild Master! I can’t afford be held to emotional ransom by an adolescent female!”
“She’s a child, Rhyaz. She doesn’t know what she’s doing,” he said soothingly, laying a hand on his friend’s arm.
“She knows,” he growled. “She’s flexing her powers as a female for the first time, Lijou. I can feel her doing it. She flatters our juniors, flirts with them, holding out the promise of much while delivering nothing but smiles and gentle touches!”
“Let her. They’ll soon realize she doesn’t give what she tempts them with. It’s just part of growing older.”
“I can’t! Get her moved, Lijou. Have them both taken to the Telepath Guild. Now. I won’t end up like Zhyaf.”
Lijou could feel him trembling, see the effort it cost him to keep his back turned to her. “You’re not Zhyaf. She must stay here till we know one way or the other,” he said quietly. “You can force the issue, Rhyaz. See her on her own and confront her. It won’t take more than a touch to know if you’re Linked.”
“No! I don’t want a Link with her or anyone!”
“The choice is no longer yours, I’m afraid. It’s already been made by the Gods.”
Rhyaz pulled away from him. “Then I’ll appeal to Vartra!” he snarled, turning and heading down the stairs in a swirl of gray.
Lijou moved closer to the rail, watching him, but his eyes were drawn to the Human female. He felt the touch of her mind, then her head turned to glance briefly at Rhyaz before looking up at him. She grinned. He felt her amusement that she’d managed to discomfit both of them and knew then that Rhyaz was right.
As she passed out of sight under the balcony, he sighed and turned to go back into his office, his heart heavy for his friend.
Stronghold, later the same day
Kai looked over at Alex as he heard a knock on the door. Who is it? he sent. I can’t sense anyone outside. Can you?
No. Go answer it.
Scrambling off the sofa, Kai crossed their small lounge and opened the door. He stepped back hurriedly as one of the Brotherhood juniors and a Human woman came in.
“Over there will do fine,” she said as the junior struggled with her two large bags. “Thank you.” She walked over to the sofa and sat down, waiting until the young male had left before speaking. “Hi there. I’m Ruth, and you’re Alex and Kai, unless I’m in the wrong suite.”
Kai blinked, taken aback by the way she’d made herself at home. Her presence seemed to fill the room with warmth and a sense of well-being he hadn’t realized it had lacked till then. She wasn’t a small woman, being a little taller than himself, and she was certainly heavier, but in an attractive way. Long ginger hair rippled across her shoulders, disappearing out of sight down her back.
“Yes, I’ve come to stay with you for a few weeks,” she said, her smile lighting up her green eyes.
“Why?” demanded Alex, getting up from the small desk where she’d been working and coming over to stand in front of her. “We don’t need anyone, we’re fine on our own.”
“Father Lijou felt it was appropriate, considering your age.”
“We’ve managed on our own for years,” said Kai, finding his voice.
“All the young people on our estate live at my house for at least a month,” said Ruth complacently. “Since you can’t come to me, I’ve come to you.”
“Why?” asked Kai, moving over to the nearest chair. “Why do they stay with you?”
“It doesn’t matter why, we don’t need her,” said Alex. “These are our quarters, we don’t want you here.”
“I’m afraid it’s all been arranged now. As to why, well, you stowed away to get here so I assume that like everyone else who comes to Shola, you want to stay. So you need to learn about the culture of this world, how to behave, what to expect. Be a good lad and get me a mug of coffee, would you, Kai? I’m parched after the journey.”
Automatically Kai got up and began to go over to the small dispenser set in the wall. Alex grabbed his arm as he went past.
“Let her get it for herself,” she said. “We’re not her servants. Look, I don’t know how many ways you need it said, but we don’t want you here.”
“It isn’t up to you, Alex,” Ruth said quietly. “I’ve been asked to stay with you for the time being and help you fit in here.”
“We don’t want to fit in,” said Kai, shaking Alex’s hand off. “We want to leave here and get a place of our own in the capital. You know, do our own thing. Only they won’t let us leave.”
“How are you going to earn a living?” Ruth asked. “Unless you belong to a Guild, no one will hire you.”
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“That’s what they tell everyone,” said Alex contemptuously. “The truth’s different. There’s always someone needing something done on the cheap. It’s what we did back home.”
“That would be after you ran away from the state orphanage. You were thirteen then, weren’t you? And you’ve been living rough since. With a background like that, it’s easy to see why you know nothing of the Sholan culture. No Guild, no work, and once they find out you’re telepaths, they’ll call in either the Protectorate or the Guild to come and get you. Not very different from back home, is it? Except here, telepaths are respected— once they’re fully trained, of course. No matter where you go, there are always rules to be followed. Wouldn’t it be easier to learn them now and save yourself all the problems you had on Earth?”
“We’ll manage, once we get away from here,” said Alex.
Ruth got up and went over to the dispenser, setting it for coffee. “There are two ways to do everything, Alex. The hard way and the easy way,” she said, waiting for her drink. “If you cause too much trouble, they have an easy solution. They’ll deport you as illegal immigrants. And don’t say they’ll have to find you first,” she said, turning round. “There are people here with the ability to track you right down to the room in the house you’re hiding in from clear across the other side of the Kaeshala continent! So why don’t we save a lot of time and do it the easy way?”
Kai sensed Alex link with him and start to reach mentally for Ruth. As she did, he felt a sudden brief flare of energy coupled with a slight stinging sensation between the eyes. Startled, he glared first at Alex, then at Ruth.
“Sholans learn not to do that one at around the age of eight,” said Ruth, sitting down again and taking a sip of her drink. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kids, and the people outside these doors won’t be so forgiving if you go messing with their minds. I expect people stayed out of your way on Earth, left you alone because of your Talent. Believe me, it’s not like that here. Every telepath is identified when they start using their Talent and has to go to the Telepath Guild to be educated. You wanted a new life or you wouldn’t have stowed away on the Odyssey to get here. At the moment, you’re on sufferance under the old laws of Sanctuary. It’s Stronghold that will have to apply for work permits for you, so why antagonize them?”
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