He sat down at the kitchen table where they’d shared meals for so long, and Alison brought him hearty chicken soup and some fresh bread. He had not tasted anything like it since the night he left her; both prison food and the Elders’ concentrated rations had been unpalatable.
“I’ve kept your room just as it was,” she told him. “I couldn’t bear to give your things away.”
“Do you want me to sleep in it?”
“No,” she said. “Not unless you’d rather.”
“I wouldn’t, not anymore,” he said with feeling. “I had a long time to think about what a fool I was. I’ve always loved you, Alison, but I didn’t let myself know it until I believed it was too late for us.”
“Because of Kathryn.”
“That and . . . other things. I’ll tell you someday. Right now, though, getting away from this world has priority.”
She nodded. “You’ve got to go—but I thought I’d never see you again, and now, to be together for only a little while—”
Terry drew breath. “I want you to come with me, Alison.”
“Offworld? Is that possible?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind leaving Ciencia for good.”
“You know I don’t. I’ve hated it here since I first read about worlds that are better, and even if they weren’t—” She broke off, embarrassed, and asked quickly, “Have you a way to get back to the starship you were on?”
“I’m hoping Jon Darrow will take us.”
“He will if he can. He agonizes over your having lost your freedom by protecting his.”
“You’ve seen him, then.”
“Yes, quite often. He’s an active Estelan—he says that after what you did for him, he owes you that, though I’m sure it’s not his only reason for risking himself.”
“Do you know if he’s onworld now?” This was what Terry had worried most about; Darrow was an asteroid miner and spent much of his time in space.
“Today he was, though he’s planning to go out again soon.”
“Thank God—I’ve been afraid there might be a long wait. Call him, Alison—ask him to come over here the first thing in the morning. But don’t say why.”
“If I did he’d think I’d lost my mind. I’ll just say it’s an Estelan thing, an emergency.”
An emergency it surely was, Terry thought. He had not been aware until he formed his plan just how much it would depend on Darrow.
~ 2 ~
While Alison made the call Terry got out of his heavy camping clothes, took a hot shower, and put on the casual pants he found in the closet that had once been his. On second thought, he added a shirt; she would be puzzled by his uniformly darkened skin. It was actually somewhat closer to its original color than the pale near-albino shade to which the Elders had changed it when they first sent him here; Ciencians not genetically dark-skinned were whiter than people on other worlds because they were never exposed to sunlight. His temporary deep tan coloring would fade, but it would be hard to explain how he’d acquired it; so for now, best to show it only in darkness.
He shivered with eager anticipation mixed with apprehension. It had been more than twelve years since he’d been with Kathryn, and faithfulness was not the only reason he’d had no relationships since. Nor was it just the paralyzing depression he’d felt over his loss of everything that had mattered to him. His early experiences with sex had been unsatisfying—not for any physical reason, but because his sense of something lacking in mere intercourse was deeply frustrating. Then, during the training that had released his psi capabilities, he’d been informed that this was because he was too psi-gifted to be content with anything less than the merging of minds that occurred during sex between telepaths.
He had not fully understood this until he’d met Kathryn. After their first union, after feeling what it was like to merge totally, the thought of sex with a non-telepath had been repugnant to him, as it was, he’d been told, to everyone who’d once had a telepathic partner. And Alison was only latently telepathic. . . .
He loved her, desired her, but was too honest with himself not to know that he had realized this only after he believed he would never see her again. He had held back out of fear, the fear that it would be like his previous frustrating experiences. That it could never be for him what it had been with Kathryn, and that Alison would sense this and be hurt. He could not bear the thought of their not sharing each other’s consciousness while their bodies were joined.
Yet according to his mind-training instructors, sex sometimes awakened latent telepathic ability. Could it do so in a person who’d had no mind training? He’d decided, while dying, that he’d been foolish to doubt that it could. Sex enhanced psi by altering consciousness; like stress, it inhibited rational thinking and let other modes emerge. Both he and Kathryn had been empowered by it in a way that carried over to their separate lives. Surely Alison would be, too. Surely their love for each other would break down all barriers to full bonding. . . .
When he came out of his bedroom the door to hers was open, and the warm robe she’d been wearing lay at the foot of the bed. His heart began to pound. As he moved toward her he knew, suddenly, that he must warn her before they went any further, before she was too overwhelmed by feelings to decide freely about her future.
“We’ve got to talk,” he said. “Before you set your heart on coming with me there’s something you need to know.”
“Not now,” she said, turning back the bed covers. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it tomorrow.”
“And we will, but it’s only fair to inform you before you’re in too deep to back away. What I’ll be doing from now on will be risky. We may often be on the run.”
“From the authorities? I thought they couldn’t legally go beyond high orbit.”
“They can’t—not the Ciencian authorities. But I’m involved in League affairs you don’t know about.”
“Well, that’s no surprise, Terry—you’d have to be, to have contacts that can get you away from here. And I’ve always known there’s some sort of mystery about your past.”
“Yes, and that’s another problem. There are things I can never tell you, Alison. I’ll explain everything relevant to what’s ahead of us, but there are secrets I’m bound not to reveal.” Not just the existence of the Elders, he thought, but what went on during the Ritual; he’d sworn to keep it from everyone who hadn’t been through it. He and Kathryn had shared that experience. It would be hard to stay silent, even telepathically, about events that had affected him profoundly.
Especially since Alison, as a psychotherapist, was used to having people confide in her. “There are pledges I have to honor,” he persisted, “and I need you to promise that you won’t press me.”
“Of course, if it’s a matter of what you’ve promised others—not just fearing that I wouldn’t understand some sort of trouble you’ve been in.”
“You would understand, and that’s what makes it hard. But I can’t break my word, no matter how much I trust you not to tell anyone else.”
“I won’t ask you to.” Smiling, to lighten his mood, she added, “What woman wouldn’t want to be carried off by a handsome man with a mysterious hidden identity like the superheroes in the fantasy fiction we hid on the Net?” Then, as he recoiled, she said, “I’m sorry, Terry—I know you don’t like having people think you’re a superman when they find you can relieve their pain.”
“I’ve got paranormal abilities besides healing,” he confessed, “and I will tell you about those. You—you may develop some of them, though there won’t be a chance for you to get the special training I’ve had.”
Would she really become consciously telepathic? Terry wondered as he undressed. What if their minds did merge and she perceived his knowledge of the Elders? It wouldn’t matter; she wouldn’t take thoughts about aliens seriously. Unlike the mentors, who were highly trained and accustomed to grasping people's inner thoughts, she would dismiss them as fantasy inspired by science fiction—as would others on
every world, even if psi-gifted. Laesara had never told him to avoid contact with anyone but mentors, apart from Kathryn, who was in close touch with mentors; after all, there must be latent telepaths on Ciencia and in other colonies as well as on Earth. If a few did perceive the truth of what he knew, they in turn would be disbelieved.
“Come to bed,” Alison said, turning off the light. She had slipped out of her nightclothes and her body was warm and welcoming. He caressed it gently, aware that since she would not share his arousal telepathically as Kathryn had, she would expect foreplay. He was not exactly sure what she would expect. With chagrin, he realized that he did not know how to please a woman whose sensations he couldn’t feel.
“Alison,” he murmured, “it’s been a long time for me—”
“For me, too,” she whispered. “There’s been no one since I got to know you. I didn’t want anyone else.” Sensing his hesitancy but misunderstanding its cause, she added, “Don’t worry if things don’t—go right at first. Just being with you is enough.”
He pressed close to her, at first tentatively and then with passion. Suddenly, the pent-up passion of years blazed through him and he lost all consciousness of doubt. He did not stop to wonder whether it was telepathy that told him her yearning matched his; he simply moved as instinct led him to move, driven by mounting ecstasy. They coupled joyously, not caring what was past or what was to come.
Afterward, as she slept in his arms, he was aware that their minds had indeed been joined. Though neither their thoughts nor their bodily sensations had been indistinguishable from each other’s, at the height of arousal there had been a connection that was more than physical. And he knew it existed because their emotions were intense and their love was firmly founded. This was what had been missing in his long-ago youthful encounters, not his partners’ lack of psi capability. Everyone was latently telepathic, as he had been told many times. He had not fully grasped what that meant.
Psi wasn’t something that set those who were trained or exceptionally gifted apart from those who weren’t. It was a continuum. The goal to which he was pledged concerned not just humankind’s future, but the recognition of every living person’s existing capability. He had known this was true in the political sense; since it implied that people couldn’t be ruled by authority, it was why Ciencia banned unscientific ideas and Maclairn’s enemies in the League government feared the spread of new mind faculties. Now he saw its wider significance.
It would not be enough to offer hope for enhanced human mind-powers in a time to come. He must make people believe that time had already arrived.
~ 3 ~
Terry was awakened by Jonathan Darrow’s voice at the door. Alison was already up and hurried to let him in. “This better be important,” Terry heard Jon say. “I’d planned to go out again today, and I’m meeting a cargo courier at noon—” He broke off, scowling, as Terry emerged from the bedroom. “What’s this? God, Alison, you know better than to set up a face-to-face meeting with a newbie.”
“I’m not exactly a newbie, Darrow,” Terry said. “Or rather, Jon—it’s time we stopped calling each other by surnames like mining crews do, considering that we were close friends for years.” It had been an unlikely friendship; Jon Darrow, a hardened miner and smuggler, was older than Terry by at least fifteen years, which meant he was now in his early fifties with hair beginning to gray. Their only similarities lay in the fact that they both loved space flight, were both loners by nature, and were both deeply opposed to the repressive isolationist policies of Ciencia’s government.
“I had only one close friend,” Jon declared. “Whoever you are, I don’t remember you, and if you’ve lied to Alison to get to me, you’ll regret it.”
Jon had to be careful, Terry realized, not only because of his involvement in the Estelan conspiracy but because his smuggling activity, though encouraged by the government racketeers who had forced him into it, would land him in prison if exposed. “You remember my voice,” he said quietly, “and you remember what I told you about having once been in Fleet.”
Stunned, Jon burst out, “He never told anyone else that, at least he said he hadn’t, and he didn’t mention it at the trial . . . oh, my God. Rivera? Terry? They let you go?”
“Not officially. And I’m not supposed to be on Ciencia, which is why I’m disguised. By the way, Rivera was never my real name. I was born Terry Radnor, but even that’s not mine anymore. According to the League files linked to my new ID chip I’m Terry Steward, the Captain of Estel.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Jon said, taking off his flight jacket and the black skullcap he always wore outdoors. “You were a mystery to me even before you told me incredible things about your past—bolder and brighter than anyone I’d ever worked with, in spite of never seeming quite connected to real life. And then when you spoke out at your trial, there was something almost supernatural about it, about the way people took it in, and started agitating for the things you said they should. Most of them still believe the fantasy you made up about a ship called Estel you claimed to be captain of. You’re sticking to that story?”
“It’s not fantasy anymore,” Terry declared. He had told Alison this during the night, but had saved the details for what was bound to be a long and difficult explanation that both of them needed to hear. “I’ve come into possession of a starship, and I’ve named it Estel, naturally. It’s waiting for me in high orbit.”
Jon stared at him. “Now you’re further out of touch with reality than ever. What did they give you in that prison—drugs?”
“None that could damage my mind. The ship’s real, and I own it legally. I’ll tell you how it happened, but it’s complicated, and we haven’t much time if you’re set to take off today. We’ve got to act fast—that is, if you’re willing to get involved.”
Slowly, Jon said, “You don’t have to ask. I’ve not forgotten how you invited arrest to keep me out of prison, and anything I can do for you, I will. If there’s a ship in orbit waiting for you, I suppose you need transport to it, and it goes without saying that I’ll take you in Bonanza.”
“I want more than that from you,” Terry told him. “I want you to come along as copilot.”
“Of a starship?” Jon gaped in astonishment. “There’s nothing I’d like better, as I’m sure you know. But I’m not qualified to pilot a hyperdrive ship. I’ve never been further out than the asteroids, just like everyone else born on this world.”
“You can fly the shuttle, and you can learn to fly Estel in normal space easily enough. I’ll handle the jumps, of course, but since I’m not willing to leave my ship unguarded, Alison and I can’t ever visit a planet’s surface without someone to stay aboard.”
“Alison’s coming, too?”
“I am,” she told him. “Terry and I are—together. For good.”
“Well, I always did suspect you were more to each other than business partners.”
“We weren’t, then, except for feelings we didn’t let show,” Terry said. “We are now; she’s the reason I left Estel to come back here. But I’m not coming again. If you join us you won’t be able to return, though I don’t expect you’ll see that as a disadvantage.”
“God, no! All my life I’ve wanted to escape this hellhole, and since you told me how different things are everywhere else, I’ve felt more trapped than ever—not to mention how I hate being a slave of the racketeers who keep me just one step away from life imprisonment.”
“That’s what I figured. But you’ve got to understand—both of you—that there’ll be risk, not just in getting away but for the rest of our lives.”
“I thought you said you own the ship legally.”
“I do. And so,” Terry announced, “I’m going into the smuggling business to earn the money to keep it operating. Which is the other thing I need you for, Jon—your experience in negotiating with interstellar smugglers. I propose a fifty-fifty split of the proceeds after expenses.”
“That’s more than gen
erous,” Jon said, settling himself at the table beside Alison. “I heard from the captain of Freerunner that when you sold him the stash of rare metals I’d held back from the government, you were a pretty good negotiator yourself.”
“I’m new at it, though, and I don’t know anything about acquiring cargo.” Terry pulled up another chair and sat facing them, adding, “When I was a courier for you, I didn’t ask for details about what I was carrying.”
Alison said, “I’m not against smuggling, but isn’t it illegal everywhere, not just here where the government bans contact with starships?”
“Yes,” Terry admitted. “We’ll be outlaws, subject to arrest by Fleet, among other things. But it’s not unethical, not if we don’t deal in weapons or stolen goods. It took me a while to realize that after the years I spent in Fleet, but Jon convinced me that people have a right to buy and sell without government interference.”
Jon frowned. “You’re overlooking a big problem,” he said. “It’s one thing for local miners to sell ore to the interstellar traders and offer them contraband goods on the side. But the traders’ ships carry crews to defend their cargo. There are plenty of pirates in deep space who’ll try to get their hands on it, or so I understand.”
“I know that,” Terry declared. “They’ll assume we do have a crew—they won’t attack as long we brazen it out if we’re challenged.”
“What makes you think so? We’ll be unarmed—”
“No, we won’t. We’ve got a laser cannon mounted where it can be seen.” The Elders had done this for him, agreeing that the appearance of strength was necessary, and had included the necessary permit when they forged the ship’s registration.
“My God, Terry! Do you know how to use it?”
“Yes, but I’ve never had to. The trick is not to use it so that they don’t find out that we’re no match for them. I was captain of a small starship in Fleet, you know. There were just three of us in the crew and we couldn’t have won in a fight, but the pirates didn’t know that. I’ve had dealings with some in the past.” He did not add that those pirates had wanted the passengers for ransom and therefore could not blast the airlock. With cargo the situation might be different.
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 46