Heart Search

by Robin D. Owens

  There was a quiet soughing through the house. “It is the time for the annual visit with Captain Ruis Elder of Nuada’s Sword to check on our investments with him and the starship.”

  Grunting, Laev finished the second pattern and bent over, hands on thighs, until his breath was even. “Is Captain Elder available?”

  “No, the Elders keep Celtan time, not Ship or Earthan time. Ship, of course, is available.”

  “Of course.” Occasionally he’d gone with his FatherSire to the meetings, but Ruis Elder was older than he. And Ruis was a Null, suppressing all Flair, having an odd effect on everyone. Yet his FatherSire had enjoyed those meetings. Laev ran through his schedule for the next day. “I can meet Captain Elder at MidMorningBell. Ask Ship if that is acceptable for them.”

  Laev had moved smoothly through the third drill before the Residence said, “Captain Elder can give you his undivided attention at MidMorningBell, and Ship states that it can ‘multitask.’ ”

  “Fine.” One more pattern and he should be weary enough to sleep. “Fill my bathing pool, please.”

  “Done.”

  A few minutes later he sank into the pool, letting the water soothe his muscles. He wasn’t sure what herbs went into the bath and swirled around him in scent, but they meant comfort and home.

  “You have only been in the HouseHeart once this month,” the Residence said.

  Laev opened one eye. He was beginning to think that the Residence keeping silent for the last six months had been a boon.

  “I will go when I am ready.”

  “T’Hawthorn should spend twenty-eight septhours in the HouseHeart every month.”

  Laev stretched his senses. The Residence was full of Flair, all spells were funded, everyone in the castle was healthy. “All the spells are fine, both in the HouseHeart and here.”

  “T’Hawthorn—”

  “That’s right. I am T’Hawthorn. I will go when I am ready. Good night, Residence.” He rose from the bath and headed to bed.

  He hoped for more sex, but he didn’t expect it, and she didn’t grace his dreams. Instead he capered in a meadow like a damned fool—a lord dancing without his lady. Joyful but not complete. He tried not to care.

  The day was bright and beautiful with no wind, and the last thing Camellia wanted to do was enter the huge six-kilometer, twenty-fivestory-high metallic starship Nuada’s Sword. Most of the people in Druida were descended from the multigenerational crew. The FirstFamilies were descended from those who’d had psi powers on Earth and had funded the trip.

  Her ancestors had not traveled on Nuada’s Sword and that was a remaining secret.

  Mica was hopping through the high grass of Landing Park. The cat surprised moths and chased them, then rushed back to Camellia and her friends. The cat was excited, hoping to be initiated into the FamCats who visited the Ship to watch the History of Cats—and maybe even get a ride on Samba cat’s flying saucer.

  They walked through the park to the Ship and up a ramp. The iris door of the bay opened. They were greeted by Dani Eve Elder, a petite eighteen-year-old with a heart-shaped face, auburn hair, and brown eyes. She was a Null—a person who suppressed Flair—like her father.

  “Welcome, ladies!” She curtsied, and Camellia and her friends curtsied in return.

  Like most people, Camellia didn’t care for losing her Flair—it was like losing her eyesight or hearing—and like everyone who dealt with Ruis and Dani Eve, Camellia gritted her teeth and accepted it when her psi power vanished. As she spent more time on the Ship, she’d become accustomed to the lack.

  “Glad to see you,” Camellia said.

  Mica mewed, scowling. No one could communicate telepathically in Dani Eve’s presence.

  Dani Eve chuckled, reached down to pet the young cat. Camellia held her breath.

  “Who’s this?” Dani Eve asked.

  “My FamCat, Mica,” Camellia answered. She glanced at Tiana. Shouldn’t her friend have notified the Elders and the Ship that Mica would be there?

  Tiana bit her lip. “I forgot to tell them.”

  “Mica has only been with me a few days,” Camellia said. “She wanted to visit to see History of Cats.”

  “Ah, History of Cats, of course.” Dani Eve rolled her eyes. “Our bestselling holo.”

  Mica meowed. Loudly.

  Male voices echoed off the sides of the metal corridors and Laev Hawthorn appeared alone, obviously talking to the Ship.

  Camellia froze, then memories of the night before, the incomplete sex, flooded her with warmth. The pressure of her teeth clenched together pained her jaw as she used irritation to vanquish the recollection. Was she fated to see Laev T’Hawthorn walking toward her wherever she went?

  She glanced at her friends, who were both staring at her, Glyssa with a look of surprise, Tiana with a hint of smugness that destiny seemed to be working on Camellia’s behalf.

  Ten

  Laev joined them and greetings were made all around.

  Mica’s yowl pierced the air, drawing all attention back to her.

  Dani Eve laughed. “As I was saying, we sell History of Cats.”

  “I’ll take one,” Camellia said.

  “The two-, six-, or twelve-septhour version?” Dani Eve asked, her mouth twitching.

  “Rrrrrowwwrrr!” Mica said, began tapping her paw.

  Camellia ignored the twelve taps. “We’ll go with the two-septhour one for now.”

  With a wicked grin, Dani Eve turned to Laev. “Your Brazos is watching History of Cats now.”

  His lashes lowered for a moment, then opened to show his lovely lavender eyes. Camellia slid her own gaze away but caught her friends’ smiles.

  “I’ll take the twelve-septhour one,” Laev said. “Anything to keep the cat occupied.”

  Camellia hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe it would be worth the gilt . . . “How much is the twelve-septhour—”

  Laev lifted a hand. “Don’t bother, GraceMistrys Darjeeling. Our cats will no doubt share.”

  That was the truth, but Camellia was torn. She’d like to pretend that gilt was no object to buying a gift for her FamCat, but of course it was.

  Her smile at him felt frozen. “Thank you, no doubt.” She turned to Dani Eve. “The two-septhour one is fine for us.”

  “I’ll have Ship send them to your home caches,” Dani Eve said.

  “Thank you,” Camellia said, her words matched with Laev’s.

  A whooshing noise got louder and louder.

  “Here’s Samba,” Dani Eve said.

  The Captain’s FamCat zoomed down the corridor on a flying saucer. The calico cat seemed leaner since Camellia had last seen her, but was still plump. Her colors were darker and she had more orange in her fur than Mica.

  “Wheee!” cried Samba.

  Laev T’Hawthorn jumped out of the way with nimble grace.

  Samba stopped the saucer close to them, tipped it upside down, and stared at Mica, then flipped it back over and lowered it to the floor. Mica stared at the older cat, looked at the saucer, then Camellia.

  As much as Camellia didn’t want to explain in front of Laev, she did, speaking to Mica, “I’m sure you and Samba don’t want to clean up vomit on the way to her quarters, so she probably won’t do any acrobatics.” She met Samba’s gaze, ignored her white twitching whiskers, the heat that flushed her own cheeks. “Mica ate grass on the way in.”

  Dani Eve frowned at Samba. “You be nice to Mica.”

  Samba purred.

  “Go ahead,” Camellia urged her cat, still feeling red under Laev’s amused eyes. “All you talked about was Samba and her saucer on the way over.”

  Samba’s purr increased in volume.

  Mica hopped onto the saucer. It tipped, righted itself, then slid slowly through the air back the way it had come.

  “I’ll see you in a couple of septhours!” Camellia called. Their trips to Nuada’s Sword were never shorter than a septhour and a half. Surely Laev would be leaving. But he just lounged agains
t the nearest wall, watching them.

  “How’s the training going, Dani Eve?” Tiana asked. Dani Eve, like Tiana, was still in the midst of her studies.

  An impish grin that showed dimples in both cheeks creased Dani Eve’s face. “I’ve been promoted by the Ship to Commander.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Tiana enthused, though Camellia thought she had no more idea of the word and status it brought than Camellia did or Glyssa.

  “What’s that mean?” Glyssa asked.

  Dani Eve laughed. “It means I am formally the second in command of the Ship.” They began walking down the hallway to the omnivator, heading to the great greensward where they kept gardens. Laev ambled with them.

  “Second in command.” Glyssa rolled the words out of her mouth with a hint of envy.

  Camellia blessed her luck in having been able to create her own business and control her own life.

  Dani Eve lowered her voice, though they all knew that Ship itself was monitoring them. “I have most of the security codes, and, and . . .” Her voice thrilled with excitement.

  “And?” Camellia and her friends prompted at the same time.

  “And I am working on refurbishing a dagger ship.”

  “A dagger ship?” asked Camellia.

  “A small spaceship that can be launched by Ship into orbit, then to cruise nearby space.”

  Camellia stopped. Her mouth fell open as horror filled her. Get off the ground? Off Celta? She heard ragged breathing and was glad she wasn’t the only one sucking and puffing air.

  “Sounds wonderful,” Glyssa said faintly.

  “I’ll want to bless your ship before you try any such thing,” Tiana said.

  Dani Eve grimaced. “Mother is not much for the adventure, either. But we’ll do quadruple fail-safes before we launch.” She emitted a tiny sigh. “It doesn’t appear as if this will happen anytime soon.” Her bottom lip poked out. “Maybe not even in this decade.”

  The omnivator door opened, they all got in. Laev stood close enough to Camellia that his male scent wafted to her nose—he smelled rich. Simply rich. Like all the best materials and spells and cleansers and any other thing that had a scent, with only a hint of his own masculine odor.

  The omnivator zoomed them to the greensward that comprised a third of the Ship.

  “Did you hear the news?” the Ship boomed in its multivoice as they left the vator.

  “What news!” Glyssa bit, as always.

  “It’s about the other starship, Lugh’s Spear!” the Ship caroled in harmony.

  Camellia stiffened. None of the women noticed her reaction, but Laev T’Hawthorn cocked an eyebrow at her.

  “I saw nothing in the newssheets, heard nothing at the Public-Library this morning,” Glyssa persisted.

  “I haven’t heard anything, either,” Tiana said.

  “The discovery team has finished marking the boundary around the location of the starship, the excavation will begin next week.”

  “Wonderful!” Glyssa whirled. “How exciting. This whole thing has been fascinating, finding the lost starship and now confirming its location!”

  “Oh, yes!” Tiana enthused.

  “Yes,” Camellia whispered.

  Laev’s gaze was on her face. She tried to keep her expression impassive, her own gaze shuttered, her body still, but thought he noticed everything.

  “We are loaning earth-moving equipment,” Dani Eve said. “But father is worried about casualties in such a major venture.”

  Tiana sighed. “Yes, there usually are deaths in something as risky as that. Blessings upon all engaged in the Lugh’s Spear expeditions!” She traced a pentacle in the air.

  “Blessings!” everyone repeated.

  Decisions loomed before Camellia. Options she couldn’t think about right now, in front of so many people. Tough choices.

  Like other events in her life demanding decisions, it crashed down on her with weight settling on her shoulders. She wasn’t ready.

  “All those Families who are descended from Lugh’s Spear must be fascinated,” Glyssa said.

  “We don’t have a good roster or genealogical history,” the Ship said with disapproval. “We only know those Families who have come forward and those listed in the diary that the Cherrys gave us. I am not allowed to do genetic scans of my visitors anymore,” Ship grumbled.

  Thank the Lady and Lord. Camellia said a silent prayer. Her lips must have moved because Laev’s penetrating glance intensified.

  Would he say anything?

  He was still nearly a stranger to them all. Surely he wouldn’t.

  She swallowed. “A good thing Ship isn’t allowed to scan. Invasion of privacy.”

  “That’s right,” Dani Eve agreed. She blinked and frowned. “One of the gardening robots is making a weird noise. I’d better take it into my workshop.” She flipped a hand. “See you later. Have lunch with us. You, too, T’Hawthorn.”

  “Yes, honored,” Glyssa said, as she always did.

  “We would like to share with you the updated maps of the discovery site of the starship Lugh’s Spear,” Ship said. “We receive regular reports from the site. We can compare the maps to my own from when we orbited, and those vids we received from the other two ships, Lugh’s Spear and Arianrhod’s Wheel, as they landed.”

  “Honored,” Tiana said.

  Laev waited a beat. Expecting Camellia to respond. Still staring at her, he said, “Perhaps.”

  They separated to their gardens. Camellia supervised tea crops: black, green, and herbal. Glyssa checked on original Earthan seedlings that were being slowly reintroduced to Celta after they’d died out, and Tiana had a plot of Earthan-Celtan hybrids she nurtured.

  Laev walked beside Camellia.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  His brows went up. “Checking on Hawthorn’s Earthan cinnamon crop that we grow here. Profits fully shared with the Ship and the Elder Family.”

  “Of course.” She was turning as red as cinnamon. Laev’s father and FatherSire had introduced cinnamon to Celtan tastes, and the spice had been an instant hit. They must have made another fortune.

  And of course his Family would have a premium Earthan source grown on the Ship. Just as she had teas that came from the Ship and not the plantations of the southern continent.

  “The Elders and Nuada’s Sword do a great deal of business,” she said.

  “As the only complete and sentient starship left, Nuada’s Sword has expensive maintenance programs,” Laev said.

  “I do,” Ship affirmed.

  Camellia was walking down a steeply tiered hillside, damp ground underfoot, checking the plants. Laev continued to stroll with her. She liked his company but wondered what he was thinking.

  Ship said, “Darjeeling isn’t a Celtan-culture name. It is an Earth place-name.”

  “We’ve had this conversation before,” Camellia said.

  “We never scanned you as a child,” the Ship said.

  “Thank you,” Camellia said.

  “But as Captain Elder and his Family have helped us come to our full senses and memories, we recall two boys who visited us decades ago. They, too, were Darjeelings.”

  The Ship had learned from Samba, it was playing cat to Camellia’s mouse. She waited for it to corner her and pounce. Laev was watching her again. How expressive was she? Probably too much.

  Ship continued, “Those boys visited with a school group—what you would call grovestudy.”

  Time to go on the attack. “Ship, we’ve been on this planet for over four centuries. You’re on Celta, you should use our terminology, otherwise you seem”—Camellia paused to add emphasis to the insult—“antique, of no use to modern Celtans.”

  “We are not antique. We have an incredible amount to contribute to Celta. We still have all the Earth DNA and databases.”

  Her strategy to distract Ship was working. She continued to prod. “I was told that you transferred all your databases to the PublicLibrary as backup, even let
a few FirstFamily Residences have some specific information.” And hadn’t that last irritated Glyssa and her Family.

  Laev said, “I believe my FatherSire, as Captain of All Councils, received several databases. Certainly anything that dealt with our ultimate forebears.”

  He was helping her! Did he know that? From the gleam in his eyes, she thought he did.

  She pressed on with the distraction. “As for the DNA, Ship, aren’t you in negotiations with Primary HealingHall about cloning some for their storage? Flaired no-time storage where the specimen remains as it was placed in the unit. Something you don’t even have now. Ship, you must move with the times.” She paused, continued gently, “Your glory days aren’t all in the past, Ship. You need to remember that.”

  “We can contribute to Celta.” There were hisses and pops in the background of its layered voice.

  “I agree. But consider yourself a citizen of Celta, not Earth.”

  “A citizen of Celta.” Ship lilted the words.

  “Perhaps the first citizen of Celta,” Camellia said.

  “T’Hawthorn, would you contact the FirstFamilies Council and All Councils about this?” Ship asked.

  “I would be honored to do so.” Laev angled his body and bowed. Camellia never had figured out where the Ship’s cameras were, but apparently Laev didn’t have that problem.

  “Good idea,” a woman’s voice said, and SupremeJudge Ailim Elder, wife of the Captain, walked from behind a screen of greenery.

  Laev smiled at the judge, stepped forward. She offered her hand and he bowed over it, murmuring, “I think between you, me, and the Captain, we can push through a proclamation that Nuada’s Sword be made a citizen, maybe even the first citizen.”

  The SupremeJudge’s lips curved.

  “What are you doing here?” The question spurted from Camellia, again, and rude. Again. She’d been distracted, too. Just by the presence of Laev. “My pardon.”

  “MidDayBell rang some time ago,” the SupremeJudge said mildly.

  Camellia glanced at her wrist timer and didn’t have to pretend to be aghast. “Lunch. I’m missing the lunch crowd at Darjeeling’s HouseHeart! I’ve got to go.”

  “You don’t need to be there every minute,” Glyssa said as she and Tiana walked up to them.