From year to year the colonies’ interest in new mind faculties increased. Terry no longer had to hack the Nets to insert references to Estel; it had become a legend known and discussed everywhere, and his comments were welcomed. Among people who believed it was more than a legend, it was generally believed that he, Terry Steward—a name he now used openly, but had not been made public at the time of his arrest—was in contact with Estel’s captain and was authorized to act in his name. He didn’t deny this, but he offered no hints as to where or when they met.
Once, after learning that its current regime welcomed interstellar visitors, he returned to Ciencia. Because people there knew him by sight as the Captain of Estel under the name Terry Rivera, he was able to communicate with them only via the Net, from orbit, so that they wouldn’t connect that persona with his current identity. And Alison couldn’t reveal her presence. Neither of them minded not visiting the planet’s dreary, cloud-enshrouded surface again. But it was good to be in touch with former friends and hear details about the successful establishment of a new government.
With one person only was their reunion complete. Shortly after reporting Bright Hope’s presence in orbit, Terry was startled by a familiar voice requesting permission to rendezvous. It was Gwen. She’d taken a job as a maintenance engineer on Earth, too absorbed in her grief for Jon to care how little she liked it there; but after several years she’d gone back to Ciencia. Eventually she had married and was now working as an engineer and shuttle pilot in her husband’s charter business. Not having known of Terry’s release from Draconis, she was elated to find that he was indeed behind the widespread rumors that the Captain of Estel still roamed the galaxy; she’d been afraid they were merely legends.
Terry and Alison now had many friends on various worlds into whose homes they were invited; and he began to speak more formally to small groups. In this he was spectacularly successful, for his telepathic rapport with his listeners was as strong as it had been on Toliman. People came away utterly convinced that in the future humans would have mind-powers greatly to be desired.
The biggest problem, Terry felt, was that unlike residents of Earth and New Afrika, most of these people had no opportunity for mind training themselves. Having found himself capable of providing breakthrough sessions as he had for Jon, he and Alison did train a few special individuals aboard Estel, people they trusted with the secret of his identity. But no mentors had come to other colonies—to his great relief, as he would have had to avoid them—and that seemed rather unfair. Liam apparently didn’t know why the Maclairn Foundation failed to extend its secret outreach, but he speculated that focusing all its effort on Earth was considered the most effective way to influence humanity’s collective unconscious. Remembering that he’d been told the collective unconscious didn’t extend from planet to planet, Terry had to agree. And perhaps, he thought with awe, they were relying on him to prepare the other worlds, so that mentors would be welcomed when they arrived.
~ 56 ~
The years turned into decades. Gradually, the concept of psi passed into the mainstream on Earth; while only a small minority of the population was psi-gifted, these people were now not merely accepted, but admired. Opponents, though vehement, now had no public support and little influence. Mind training for preservation of health, too, became common; Bramfield Clubs were to be found in every major city and the existence of instructors called mentors was no longer hidden, although their origin was still carefully concealed. The Estelan Party grew into a major one, and Ciencia was not the only colony where it won elections. Terry found it hard to believe that the name he had chosen long ago for an imaginary ship was now universally applied to a philosophy he hadn’t originated and a political movement his illegal actions had inspired.
In his youth, Terry’s deepest wish had been to explore new planets, those not yet settled, perhaps so far undiscovered. That was the work he’d chosen in Fleet, and when he acquired Estel he’d planned to go back to it. Responsibilities had intervened, but as the need to spread now-common ideas decreased, he began to think about it again. He had earned enough through charter work to last for awhile, and Liam had no objections although he didn’t share Terry’s enthusiasm. It seemed justifiable to take what amounted to a vacation.
They bought prospecting equipment, Jon’s having been lost when the ship was confiscated, and hired a small crew. Then Terry set out to do what he’d always longed to do, and traveled far off the beaten track. He made no startling discoveries—unopened worlds were, after all, very much like colonized ones if not less well-endowed. Wryly, he recalled having once wished he might discover aliens if he flew far enough; fate, he thought, fulfilled wishes in ironic ways. Nevertheless he enjoyed the sense of not knowing what each new landfall would reveal, and they came back with enough rare minerals to pay for the trip. So over the course of time he made more such trips, even after he passed eighty.
Neither Terry nor Alison showed much aging; their mind training, consistently practiced, had protected them from the physiological effects of stress that produce bodily deterioration. Silver-haired now, they were otherwise still in their prime, with the strong, lean bodies they had possessed since youth. Maclairnans lived in good health to be a hundred and twenty or more; Terry didn’t think he would last quite that long since he’d had less ongoing training, but he was happy that Alison seemed likely to keep her health as long as he did.
Liam, once past his prolonged youthful appearance, never seemed to age at all. He couldn’t be more than twenty years younger than Terry, yet his face was unlined and his hair was still blond when Terry reached ninety. Then, abruptly, it turned white overnight, as if he’d decided it might otherwise be too noticeable. Terry had never heard that mind training extended to control over hair color, but then, Liam was far more psi-gifted than he was—that had been evident for a long time. No wonder he’d been shy about mingling with people, born so unlike the rest.
It was shortly after this that a new colony named Futuro was established by emigrants from Earth, all of whom had received mind training from mentors. News of it spread among the other worlds and was greeted with elation by the Estelans there. To them, it was the first world ever to be populated entirely by people with new mind faculties who would pass them on to their children. Terry, Alison, and Liam, who knew it was not the first, were equally thrilled. At last it was happening! The human race was starting to evolve.
Much as he wanted to see Futuro, Terry dared not go there, for he assumed mentors would be included among the settlers. Liam, however, heard through Gabriel Travis that there were none. Maclairnans couldn’t handle all training forever, and mind skills could be learned more easily by adolescents than by adults, so less skill on the part of the instructor was required. The essential initial ordeal wasn’t as demanding when presented as a rite through which kids attained adulthood; that was how it worked on Maclairn, where young mentors learned to conduct it. Now Earthborn instructors had evidently been taught to do so.
When Estel arrived at Futuro it was barely past the camp stage; the world had been terraformed by Fleet but the colonists themselves were responsible for all building. It wasn’t as harsh an environment as some, and unlike Maclairn’s founders they were receiving regular shipments of supplies. Everyone was happy to be there, working together as a team—they had, of course, been individually chosen for ability and enthusiasm. Terry was struck by the telepathic accord among them, which though unconscious on the part of most, was immediately apparent to him. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be in such company.
Though the colony admitted no tourists he and Alison were welcomed as special guests, for the Futurans knew his reputation for promoting Estelan beliefs and wanted to hear what he had to say. “Whether or not there’s really a Captain of Estel,” they told him, “he’ll go down in history as the herald of the new way. Our kids have been fans of him since they were small—Estel toys and vids are their favorites.”
Toys? Vids? Terry n
eeded no words to convey his astonishment. “No one knows what Estel looks like, let alone its captain,” he managed to say.
“Everyone knows, just as they know Superman, or King Arthur, or any other figure cast in the role of a hero. It doesn’t matter if the image is literally accurate. What counts is what people think it means.”
And Terry realized, with awe and thankfulness, that this was true.
The founding of Futuro was a turning point. Now, when they visited other worlds, Terry spoke not just in friends’ homes but to crowds. They turned out to meet him, listening with awe to his description of their hope’s fulfillment in the new colony. He had been repeating the same words about the human mind over and over for more than fifty years, yet he never tired of it, since the current of conviction went both ways; the telepathic link with his audience was as inspiring each time as it had been long ago at his trial on Ciencia. He had had a strange life, Terry thought, yet the second half of it had brought him happiness—more than he’d ever expected to find.
“You earned it,” said Liam. “Twelve years of exile on Ciencia, the near-loss of your life more than once to save Maclairn, nearly three years’ imprisonment on Draconis—”
Terry stared at him. Liam had known about Draconis, of course—but how had he known about Ciencia? Though he was well aware of what he’d accomplished there, how could he have known he’d been exiled from somewhere else? No human alive knew that except Alison and Gwen—nor did anyone else know about the first time he’d nearly lost his life. Had he in fact leaked more telepathically than he’d realized?
Perhaps it didn’t matter. Liam certainly hadn’t picked up anything about the Elders, and if he hadn’t done so in all these years, it wasn’t likely to happen now. They went on as before, and Terry scarcely noticed when his hundredth birthday passed.
But happiness can’t last forever. When he was a hundred sixteen, Alison died. She had shown no signs of decline, and though somewhat less energetic than usual during her last weeks, she seemed healthy. Then one night, as they cuddled close in bed as always, she told him silently, It’s been a good life, Terry. What we’ve had together is all I ever wanted. I love you—don’t ever forget how much I love you. . . . In the morning she was gone.
Terry, at first unbelieving, was so stricken that he felt unable to move; he lay beside her still form for half an hour before stumbling out of the stateroom to call Liam. All his mind training ebbed away and he could not control his tears, let alone his inner physical reactions.
With Liam’s help he shrouded Alison’s body and committed it to space, where they had spent their years together. That was the kind of burial he himself wished to have. “When my time comes,” he told Liam. “I’m counting on you to remember.”
“Your time isn’t coming for many years yet,” Liam declared with confidence.
“Don’t insult me with platitudes. I’ve already far exceeded a normal lifespan.” Though it was true that physically he was still vigorous, it didn’t seem likely that he would reach the age people did on Maclairn—they received advanced mind training in midlife for a reason, and he hadn’t had that training.
It was miraculous that Alison had lived as long as she had with only the training he’d been able to give her. He should be thankful for that, Terry knew—for her life to be shorter than his was what he’d most feared, his reason for taking the risks he had to get the neurofeedback helmets. But having gotten them, he hadn’t expected her to die while he still felt perfectly normal.
Alison had been his lover and constant companion for nearly eighty years. She had given up the comforts of living on a planet’s surface to stay with him. She’d accepted the necessity of forgoing a home and children. She had supported his mission wholeheartedly and never questioned any of the difficulties it entailed. Now Terry did not see how he was going to survive without her. He had never felt such overwhelming pain . . . not since he was torn away from Kathryn. It all came rushing back; he hadn’t thought about Kathryn while he was with Alison, except for those few days on the Moon, but now the grief was doubled, and he was crushed by it.
He could commission no tangible memorial for Alison; they hadn’t spent enough time on any particular world for there to be an appropriate site. He would get a portrait to hang in his stateroom when he next visited a city equipped to make hard copies of images, but there was no permanence in that. Their only home had been Estel, and what would happen to Estel when he was gone?
Liam was supportive. They resumed their normal routine, revisiting all the worlds where Terry had friends. But he went to the surface alone. Liam refused to take part in discussions with colonists, and since one of them had to stay with the ship anyway, Terry didn’t urge him. Liam’s shyness about being with people seemed no less inhibiting in old age than it had been when he was young. “Spreading the word is your role,” Liam said. “Mine is simply to be here when I’m needed.” And there he remained, self-sufficient, even when Terry was onworld for weeks at a time, though he continued to take leave when Estel was in port for maintenance.
Presumably, when on leave, he still had contact with some agent of the Maclairn Foundation. But evidently they’d never seen fit to let him acknowledge their aid, and he’d never even hinted at it, though surely he must suspect that Terry had figured it out. In the beginning they’d no doubt wanted to be sure Terry’s actions would further their aims, but that had been proven a long way back. So why go on pretending it was a mystery? Perhaps, Terry thought, like many anonymous donors to worthy causes they simply didn’t want gratitude.
~ 57 ~
During the next decade two more new colonies were founded by people with mind training, one of them including emigrants from New Afrika. Moreover, Earthborn instructors equipped with neurofeedback helmets were sent to some of the older colonies—at last people there had the chance to learn the mind skills in which they’d come to believe. On Earth, Liam reported, both such skills and psi capability were widespread. The Estelans were the majority party almost everywhere.
Elated though Terry was by these developments, eventually his energy began to wane. Jumping from world to world required more effort than it once had, not in terms of bodily strength, but emotionally. Realizing this, he was dismayed. He had come to terms with Alison’s death long ago. He enjoyed Liam’s company and that of his many friends. But he found himself turning more and more to thoughts of his youth, and Maclairn, as he supposed old men did; and that frightened him. Was there nothing left for him to look forward to?
And then one day the cause of his depressed mood suddenly became clear to him. He wasn’t needed anymore. He had succeeded in what he set out to do, and there was no longer any essential role for him to play. To the kids of many worlds the Captain of Estel was a hero, revered throughout the galaxy—but a figure from history with nothing new to offer. Whatever might be said of him now would make no difference.
That night Terry dreamed, and the dream was so vivid, so real, that as he woke the years fell away and he was a young man again, torn by the agony of exile as he had been on Ciencia. A hundred years—could it really have been a hundred years since the morning he had left Maclairn forever?
He was now one hundred twenty-six years old, so yes, it had been a century. And it had been a fulfilling life after the first. He had accomplished a lot more than he’d ever expected he could. He had not only furthered belief in the human mind’s power; he had saved Maclairn twice from disaster. And he’d visited enough new worlds to satisfy the longing to explore that had been so strong in youth. So why did he now feel unsatisfied, restless, as if something beyond reach must be still ahead?
Long ago, when he’d first heard about the lengthened lives of the Maclairnans, he’d been told that they were in good health until near the end and then died quickly, as Alison had, simply because they had gotten all they could out of life and had begun to crave something beyond. Was that what was happening to him? He was not ready to die. Whatever unnamed thing he now longed for wa
s not purely of the spirit. Nor was it simply a matter of the nostalgia for the past said to be common in old age. He could not define what it was. But he knew, suddenly, that he must search for it. Estel must make one more voyage into the unknown, and if it took him to his death, then the time for that had indeed come, though he felt deeply, unreasonably, that he was about to find something revitalizing.
Precognition? Terry wondered. That had happened to him a number of times before. Whether or not this was such a time, the feeling was compelling.
“Another vacation will be good for you,” Liam agreed. “Do you want me to hire a prospecting crew?”
“No,” said Terry. “It’ll be just the two of us.” And he sensed that Liam was relieved, as if for some reason he didn’t think prospecting would be wise.
The trip took little planning; they went first to Stelo Haveno to provision the ship and replenish the antimatter, then jumped to one of the farthest unexplored stars on the charts. The thrill Terry had always felt during such jumps came back; it made him feel young again.
When they found, fortuitously, a planet with a breathable atmosphere, they camped there for a few days, glorying in the sight of the stars from a vantage point offering a better view than the narrow one from the ship’s bridge. The vast panorama of sparkling lights stretched from horizon to horizon, unobstructed; and Terry knew that space was where he was meant to be, had always been meant to be, aware that beyond what he could see lay an infinity of stars, so that there need never be an end to exploring. And humankind would keep on exploring long after he was gone.
The Rising Flame: Box Set: Defender of the Flame + Herald of the Flame Page 80