“I’ve seen dim lights in a few of them,” he said. “I wondered, because I thought no one lives here anymore.”
“They don’t. But the kids—the teenagers—don’t have much privacy in town, and so it’s sort of traditional for couples to come up at night from time to time.”
The kids who were considered adults at age thirteen. Captain Vargas had warned about this in the briefing: adult meant fully adult on Maclairn and sex between young teens was not frowned upon. Since they were telepathic, fully sensitive to each other’s feelings and taught from childhood to respect them, preventing it would be both impossible and unnecessary. Contraceptive technology was unavailable; most girls bore their first child at fourteen or fifteen, a holdover from the early years when rapid population increase was vital, though nowadays after a woman had two or three children her tubes were sealed by a psychic healer. Extended families were the rule, with grandparents and great-grandparents taking an active role in a child’s rearing.
“If you’re going to stay, let’s sit under the trees again until the installation team’s back and I have to go in for mess call,” he said, rejoicing in the reprieve of a few hours. “Maybe Commander Chiang will let me invite you to eat with us.”
“I brought some protein bars,” she said. They walked further along the rim this time, to a clump of trees distant from the Commons.
He should be thinking about the flight in Picard, Terry thought. The most thrilling event of his life so far, a chance to do what no one else had done. He wanted desperately to do it . . . but right now, there was something he wanted more.
They sat in silence, sharing thoughts without words. Soon, somewhat to his surprise, he found that his arms were around Kathryn, pressing her close to him; and when they kissed, all other concerns fell away.
After a while, when he could speak again, he said, “I think I envy the kids who use those huts.”
“You don’t have to,” Kathryn said.
He didn’t need to ask what she meant. “I can’t very well stay away after mess call,” he pointed out. “The commander would send out a search party.”
“No, he wouldn’t. Corwin will have asked him not to.”
“Corwin?” he said, astonished. “God, Kathryn, did you tell him—?”
“Not aloud, but he’s a mentor, Terry. He watched us together, and I don’t think you were hiding your feelings any more than I was. He knew before we did.”
“But why would he speak to Commander Chiang?”
“Because he’s studied Earth’s customs and knows they’re different from Maclairn’s, that ours have to be explained to prevent misunderstanding. And because he knew it’s your last night before—”
“Before I might be killed.”
“Yes. Here, it won’t be seen as rushing things. Couples who care about each other sleep together—it means so much more than just sex, you see. At least I’ve been told it does.”
It means something to hold to, he thought—something indestructible that will last forever. He was not nervous about the coming flight, yet he sensed that a bond with Kathryn, a merging of their minds, would make him more than just a skilled pilot. It would give him the roots he had never had, a reason not only to keep exploring, but to return.
Chiang had been at the landing party’s briefing, where the captain had made clear that on matters concerning Maclairn’s customs the advice of mentors was to be respected. He would not disregard any suggestion Corwin might have made to him. And what the hell, Terry thought—even if he was disciplined for it later, he was not going back to the Commons tonight.
~ 17 ~
The house they chose was one of the smallest, little more than the original beehive-shaped stone hut with an entry and small kitchen added at one side. The single room was dominated by a wide, thick mattress covered with handwoven blankets, leaving little space for the seating cushions and low table against the opposite wall. “We sit and sleep on the floor even in town,” Kathryn said. “The early settlers had no wood, and by the time it would have been possible to build chairs and raised beds, people were so used to not having them that mattresses or futons were all they wanted. Most homes have Japanese-style dining tables with floor cushions.”
The hut had cabling for electricity, but the power had been turned off; when it began to get dark Kathryn lit an oil lamp. “Sunflower oil,” she explained. “There’s no petroleum on this world.” They sat munching the protein bars, drinking from a canteen filled at the settlement’s central pump; the stone huts had no plumbing. It was rather like camping, Terry thought, the one thing on Earth he had really enjoyed. During leaves on other worlds he had rarely gone beyond the cities adjacent to spaceports, which were ultra-modern and all alike. Maclairnan towns were more inviting, Kathryn had told him; still he was glad that their first time together would be in this special place in no way like those where he had been less happy.
By the time it was fully dark it was also cold; the stone walls and roof were some insulation, but they had not brought jackets and despite their volitional control over body temperature, the pile of blankets on the mattress beckoned—offering a good excuse not to wait any longer. They left the lamp burning but undressed too quickly to take in the sight of each other’s bodies.
Terry had thought he might be shy, that memories of the emotionally-frustrating earlier relationships might intrude. His expectations of what sex was like among telepaths had been built so high, by Aldren’s comments and by Kathryn’s own, that he feared he would be disappointed, or worse, that she would be. But when it happened it seemed natural and inevitable, leaving no room in his mind or hers for doubts or comparisons. Full arousal was almost immediate, and it came less from the touch of their bodies than from the merging of their inner selves.
He had thought he knew what telepathy was. He had known nothing, Terry realized fleetingly, but then he could not think at all, but only feel; and what he felt was not his excitement alone, but also Kathryn’s. No gradual preliminaries were needed—he was as aware of her physical sensations as she of his, and astonishingly, he could not tell which were which. It was as if their two bodies were literally one, for when their hands explored each other’s flesh he experienced pleasure in places his own body lacked.
But all this was as nothing to the melding of their minds. At the moment of climax he felt her rush of joy as if it rose from his own depths, and afterward, as the urgency faded, he saw through her eyes. As one, they stood first at the prow of the boat, the spray cool on their faces, and then on the walkway across the dam, looking down on the settlement where he had not yet been. Its sprawling stone and brick buildings, surrounded by clumps of trees, were a focus of comfort amid the green oasis of planted fields and the barren rocky land beyond. And within the house in which they next found themselves was warmth and firelight and the sound of singing, and he knew he could never be lonely again, for she was linked with him and would always be with him, no matter how far from her he might go. They were together, yet it was a connection, not unity; they lost no individuality by it—he was more fully himself than he had ever been while separate. He was flying, with all the stars of the galaxy in front of him and the expectation of something new and wonderful just ahead, and she shared the thrill, for she was as aware of his deep longings as he of hers.
He held her close, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat, as they absorbed the facets of each other’s memories: at first perceived consciously, then dissolving into shared dreams. Some time during the night they woke and made love again. No words passed between them. There was no need for words when they were already sensing everything that might be said.
When it began to get light, Terry got up and put on his clothes. This was the day he would fly Picard. He felt no fear of any mishap; nothing could part him from Kathryn now, or ever again. They would be physically separated while he was aboard Shepard and she traveled to Earth, but that would not weaken their indissoluble bond. He was committed to something after all, he realized. H
e had wondered what that would feel like, and now he knew. It gave him a feeling of inner strength he had never experienced, despite lifelong confidence in his ability to excel in mere technical skills. He was no longer isolated from the essence of life; from today onward, he would be whole.
Kathryn rose and together they stood looking out at the cold dawn. I’ll be watching, she told him as they kissed one last time. I’m not scared anymore, Terry. I know you’ll be okay.
At breakfast in the Commons, no comments were made about his absence; fellow-officers who under other circumstances might have kidded him had evidently been instructed to ignore it. Just as Terry finished eating, the shuttle arrived and he went out to greet Commander Linley.
He had worried that he might be distracted while doing the preflight inspection, unable to concentrate on the job at hand, but it did not work that way. His mind was totally focused; his awareness of Kathryn was an undercurrent too thoroughly integrated to interfere with conscious thought. Once his checkup of the ship was complete he got into his pressure suit, sealed the airlock, and settled into the captain’s seat on the bridge. The familiar vibration as he put on power was reassuring. He paused, making the inner adjustments he’d learned through neurofeedback for lowering his level of stress hormones and calming his heart.
In the instant before he gave the command to lift, he called out silently, I love you Kathryn, and recalled with dismay that he had never told her so. They had sensed their love, not declared it in the way non-telepaths would do. But now, even at this distance, her reply came back to him: I love you, Terry. . . . From Commander Linley, too, came a strong send-off—Go for it, Radnor—and he understood that through last night’s experience his telepathic sensitivity had indeed been permanently enhanced.
Power surged through Picard as its antigravs raised it from the pad where it had rested through two centuries. It hovered briefly and then, stirring a ring of pulverized rock beneath, it lifted.
Within seconds Terry was looking down on the plateau and the blue sliver of the lake. Before he had time to locate the grove of trees where he and Kathryn had first kissed, he was in space.
He took a deep breath. There might yet be trouble—the ship might not reach orbit, or its AI could fail during rendezvous or docking. But Picard was free of the ground, and his spirit soared with it. His ship, for surely he would have chances to fly it after it became operational. This was what he had always wanted, to fly, and keep flying as far as his ship could take him. But now he would not feel the letdown that had saddened him at the end of his previous flights. From now on he also belonged to a world.
Within a few minutes Shepard loomed ahead of him and docking, handled efficiently by the AI, went smoothly. Captain Vargas and several senior officers were waiting at the airlock. “Well done, Lieutenant,” the captain said. “With this ship we can set up surveillance much further from the planet than with patrollers alone.”
“Yes, sir. It would have been too bad to let it sit on the ground when it was salvageable.”
“So Admiral Derham thought when he was here,” said Vargas, smiling. “But he advised me that the idea should come from you. He said you’d jump at any flight assignment we offered you, and wouldn’t give enough consideration to the risks unless you took the initiative in evaluating them.”
Stunned, Terry said, “He foresaw that I’d suggest it? But I might not have been in the Old Settlement long enough if I’d only gone down on leave.”
“Why do you think you were assigned as shuttle pilot for the first team sent there? For that matter, why are you aboard Shepard? You’ve known all along that you’re overqualified for cruiser duty; the admiral said you expressed yourself very strongly on that point.”
Oh, my God, Terry thought. “Sir, are you saying I was pulled off explorer duty in the first place because—”
“We needed an experienced explorer pilot rated fit for command. Aldren and I considered several, and he said that based on your psych profile he considered you the best bet, as well as the one with the most aptitude for mind training. If this ship proves functional you’ll be its captain, and you’ll be responsible for deploying unmanned sensor stations on asteroids and on the system’s other planets.”
“I’ll be very happy to do that, sir,” Terry declared, thinking with remorse of how he’d inwardly cursed the admiral for assigning him to what appeared to be a routine training cruise.
“Commander Chiang tells me that congratulations of another kind are also in order,” Vargas continued.
Terry felt his face burn. He hadn’t thought the captain would be told.
“Don’t worry about it. We want to establish ties with the Maclairnans, and they are very pleased by this particular one. I assume, from what the mentors have said to me, that it’s of the kind likely to last.” He hesitated and went on, “I’m not married, but Admiral Derham and his wife are my close friends, and they’ve given me to understand that relationships between couples who have had mind training are more—intense than others. That’s why we recruited couples where possible, and why we care with whom our single people become involved. Such relationships aren’t taken lightly here.” And I trust you don’t intend to take it lightly.
He’s warning me not to break it off! Terry realized. Sir, I wouldn’t. . . .
I know that. I’m enough of a telepath to sense your feelings. But you’d better see Corwin as soon as possible, because until he senses them himself he’ll wonder whether he was right to intervene.
But Corwin had already sensed them, Kathryn had said. If he wasn’t sure, why would he have spoken to Chiang?
All at once Terry saw why, and why she had known that he would. Jessica had told her she wouldn’t gain full telepathic capability until she had sex with another telepath, and that she wasn’t yet ready for the Ritual that apparently required well-developed psi powers. Until she was, she couldn’t make the formal commitment they expected of their ambassador. No wonder the mentor had taken action. . . .
Just as his own telepathic sensitivity had been increased by their union, so had hers. She was truly Maclairnan now, fit to formalize the commitment that meant so much to her and become a Steward of the Flame. But in doing that, would she be creating a barrier between them? Terry wondered. Aldren had told him his psi powers would grow, and inside he knew that this was true. He would surely develop all those Kathryn had gained. Yet he was not free to pledge lifelong loyalty to Maclairn while he remained an officer in Fleet. And only in Fleet could he fly.
~ 18 ~
Terry was scheduled to meet with Corwin that evening to resume his neurofeedback training. Immediately he felt a strong rapport with him, even stronger than with Aldren—stronger, he realized, because his own telepathic capability had dramatically increased. There was no need to discuss his feelings for Kathryn; Corwin knew. Nor was it necessary to tell him anything about his past. Terry was not sure how much he drew from their link and how much he had learned from the recorded report on the trainees that Aldren had sent in care of the captain, but he could tell that the mentor was aware of everything that mattered.
After a dual neurofeedback session during which he demonstrated that he could follow a visual mind-pattern into different states of consciousness and that he could consciously control his heart rate, blood pressure, and various internal states perceivable only by a skilled healer, Corwin announced that the next step would be to learn remote viewing.
“I want to—but it’s hard for me to believe it’s possible,” Terry admitted.
“It’s easier than it sounds. As Aldren may have told you, a few people were doing it systematically back in the twentieth century, before the reaction set in that made public advocacy of psi powers disreputable. We can’t be sure how many continued to do it in private. But since you are psi-gifted and already trained to enter altered consciousness, you’ll probably get good results.”
“Well,” Terry said, “I guess if I try I can see Kathryn—where she is now, I mean, not just me
mory.” He paused, a picture forming in his mind. She was in Jessica’s house, a rambling stone building like those he had seen when their thoughts merged. . . .
“That’s just what you mustn’t do,” Corwin declared. “If you were advanced enough to perceive the surface from orbit, which you’re not, any image connected with Kathryn wouldn’t be remote viewing, it would come to you through telepathy. We can’t always tell the difference—a good deal of what is thought to be remote viewing is actually telepathy; in other words, the images are unconsciously picked up from someone’s mind rather than directly from physical reality. There’s no way to be sure. Only because it’s possible to see things no one else has ever seen do we know that direct perception is a true capability.”
They began with photographs. “This used to be done with prints in sealed envelopes,” Corwin said. “But that way, even if the monitor has not personally seen what’s in the envelope, telepathy can’t be ruled out, because he may be perceiving its content and communicating it on an unconscious level. Letting the computer choose the photos from among thousands reduces that chance; still it’s not completely foolproof. In most cases that doesn’t matter—telepathic perception in itself is a big achievement for most people, and if the goal is to get information, where it comes from is not important. But you are already a telepath, and you need to practice direct perception. So we’ll get around the problem by using only mentors as your instructors; we’ve learned to close our minds so that not even unconscious input can be obtained from them.”
They moved to a table in a compartment separate from the one where neurofeedback equipment had been installed. “Just relax for a few minutes,” Corwin said, “and then simply let things happen. This works like the other skills you’ve been taught—willpower is counterproductive. If you try to see, you’ll fail. The images will come from your unconscious mind; you must allow them to rise, just as you allow your heartbeat to slow or speed up instead of trying to force it.”
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 11