Damia

by Anne McCaffrey

  There was absolutely no comparison between Sodan and the Deneb invasion species. Damia was correct in that evaluation. One impression, which surprised Afra, was that of an almost interminable journey. And excitement at an end in sight. Yet how Afra could grasp that concept from a mind that did not yet speak in a known language, he did not know. But those were the impressions he grasped.

  Damia would not expect Afra to linger once he had satisfied his stated errand. But, fascinated by the contact, he did linger, discovering other unsettling aspects. Sodan’s mind, undeniably brilliant, was nevertheless augmented. Afra couldn’t perceive whether Sodan was the focus for other minds on the ship or in gestalt with the ship’s power source. Straining his nerves and senses to the limit without revealing his presence, Afra tried to pierce the visual screen or, at least, the aural one. All he received was a low stereo babble of mechanical activity, and the burn of heavy elements, the latter sufficiently disturbing in itself. Yet how did a species without a visual faculty function on such a sophisticated level? To be sure, antennae of various sorts relayed a tremendous amount of information to an intelligent mind: sensors and optics imitated vision, but it was the sight of stars that had lured Mankind into space. What had been this alien’s goad to cross intergalactic space?

  Worried and frustrated, Afra withdrew, leaving Sodan and Damia to exchange abstracts that, to him, were also the ploys of emotional attraction. He returned to Aurigae and sought the Tower couch. He felt completely drained by the brief jaunt. That was in itself unnerving. He’d planned to contact Larak on Procyon without having to gestalt. But he knew that was impossible just then. Carefully assuming a light tone, he asked Keylarion to bring a generator on line for him.

  “We’ve three if you need them,” the T-6 replied helpfully.

  “No, one’s enough.” And Afra hoped that it would be. For a T-3, one should be sufficient. He scrubbed at his face while he watched the gauge on number one generator climb to sending level. It was not, Afra assured himself, that Damia had deliberately concealed anything in her reports to him or to Jeff: she was entirely unaware that her usually keen perceptions were fuddled and distorted by the fatigue levels caused by contact with this alien. And Damia had been spending hours dealing abstracts at Sodan? He exhaled noisily and wondered if a cup of coffee would have a reviving effect. But the needle reached the required level just as Keylarion verified readiness to him. Even with the gestalt, ’pathing to Larak was an effort.

  Larak, Afra called, leaning heavily into the power and projecting his own mental/physical concept of Larak to aid him in reaching the boy’s mind.

  Man, you’re beat, Larak answered, his touch sharp, clear, green.

  Larak, relay back to Jeff that this Sodan . . .

  It’s got a name?

  It’s got more than that and Damia is responding on a very high emotional level, Afra sighed heavily. This entity has no resemblance to the Deneb Penetration species. No Beetle sting . . .

  What? Oh, yeah, I remember. Larak’s projection of a grin was oddly comforting to Afra.

  But there’s something very insidious about this Sodan individual. A few moments in its company and I’m shagged enough so that I needed gestalt to reach you.

  You? That was enough to remove the grin from Larak’s voice.

  Please inform Jeff that I consider this situation of a highly volatile—and possibly dangerous—nature. I want you out here as soon as possible on any pretext so I can get through to Earth Prime without requiring either Damia or gestalt. And—Afra paused to emphasize the next request—please ask both Jeff and the Rowan to remain available to me on demand.

  What has my darling sister found this time! Larak responded with an impressed whistle.

  Get Mick and Mauli to push you out here as soon as you can relay that message, huh, Larak, like a good lad?

  Coming, Larak responded crisply.

  Afra leaned back in the couch and flicked off the generator. The exchange had taken no more than thirty seconds: not long enough for Keylarion to take particular note or even log it into the station records. Not that Damia would check the station log if she returned: she’d be too tired, he thought grimly. How did that entity cause such enervation? Why? Afra brooded. Perhaps he was being over-sensitive because Damia was so absorbed by this contact. He had half-hoped, when Jeff told him to go to Aurigae, that he might have a chance to attract Damia as he had so long wanted to do. Perhaps he was acting prematurely to call Larak in. Perhaps he could handle the Sodan mind himself.

  No, Afra told himself candidly, not when you’re reduced to a limp rag after a vicarious touch. And not with the competition Sodan was providing.

  * * *

  Hey, Afra, what does a guy have to do to get your attention? was Larak’s cheery greeting as he bounced up the Tower steps.

  His energy seemed almost obscene to the weary T-3.

  “Knock twice!” Afra replied, but he grinned gratefully as he extended his hand to the visitor. The vigor which Larak exuded was as much a restorative as the infectiousness of his smile. The resemblance between Larak and his sister was pronounced, even to having the Gwyn slash of white in the same position on their black-haired heads. Larak was not quite as tall as his sister, who was unusually tall, and more slightly built than his brothers. But he had full measure of the Raven charm, and Afra found the energy to return the boy’s smile.

  Hands now touching, Afra conveyed the one impression he had not included in the broadcast.

  Damia’s infatuated with this peculiarly dangerous alien? Larak murmured, surprised, and looked hard into Afra’s eyes. “Wouldn’t you know she’d have weird and exotic tastes!” He let his lips turn down sympathetically. Why can’t she pick on the home-brewed? He cocked his head at Afra.

  Afra felt it expedient to ignore that comment. “A very dangerous alien, unfortunately. Do you remember that old scare tale about soul-eaters?”

  Larak rolled his eyes wide. “You just bet I do. Damia terrorized me into starting a forest fire with that tale of hers. Wait a minute. You think this alien’s a soul-eater?” Larak was almost indignant at the notion. “Hey, Afra, that was kid stuff.”

  “I can’t think of another analog. I spent no more than ten or fifteen seconds, in a light, secondary link, and I had to use gestalt to reach you at Procyon.”

  “That’s not good,” Larak said. “That’s very bad. What’s wrong with Damia? Doesn’t she realize . . . No, obviously she doesn’t.” Larak slid into the second conformable couch, his eyes flickering as he considered and discarded thoughts.

  “Damia mentioned the residue you two felt from Beetle artifacts. There’s something comparable to your sting on board Sodan’s vessel. And it’s not comfortable.”

  “Fissionables?” Larak asked.

  Afra shook his head. “It is very alien. I couldn’t define it.”

  “Can Damia?”

  Afra grimaced. “She’s involved in translating abstracts.”

  “Those’ll be a great help if he plans to blow us up.” Larak tensed. “What has she said about us? The League?”

  “From what she reports, she’s been discreet.”

  “That’s a mercy.”

  Afra could sense that Larak’s flippancy disguised a concern for Damia as deep as his own. Larak had always been closest to her. “I wouldn’t mind what they discussed,” he said, “but Sodan leaves her so drained.”

  “New kind of weapon—total enervation before annihilation?”

  “That’s not as outrageous as you think,” Afra said grimly. “There’s a tremendous power source in the ship . . .”

  “There’d have to be to push it between galaxies . . .”

  “But that’s all I could sense. Beyond the public mind, I met an impenetrable wall. Granted, Damia’s much stronger than I am . . .”

  “But she hasn’t tried?”

  Afra frowned and, rising, began to pace restlessly back and forth in the narrow Tower.

  Larak held Afra’s glance, and then sighed
.

  “But there’s been no overt act of aggression?”

  “That depends on what you call ‘aggression.’ I believe that Sodan is subtly trying to destroy Damia in the process of this peaceful exchange of culture and information. In my lexicon, eroding her mental capability is an assault with intent to maim or kill.” He saw that remark succeeded in arousing all Larak’s natural fraternal concern and protectiveness. “I could be overreacting. I’m no precog, but there are instances in which one doesn’t need to be to guess intent. Judge for yourself when you see Damia this evening.”

  Larak did not bother to shield his anger. “I will, but I’ve never seen you overreact, Afra. Apart from the danger to my sister, just how close is this Sodan to Iota Aurigae? Close enough to recognize this system as Damia’s point of origin?”

  Afra managed a wry grin. “You’re a real Tower-man, Lar.”

  Larak gave a quick unhumorous grin. “A Gwyn-Raven, body, blood, and brain!”

  “Logically,” Afra continued, “we have to allow him the same sophistication in monitoring devices as he has in travel capability. So he’s certain to detect sufficient activity on this planet to attract—” and Afra paused, searching for the appropriate phrase—“his attention. Since a high-tech society gobbles ores, minerals, and rare earths at phenomenal rates, it is reasonable to assume that he’s crossed to our galaxy to find new sources.”

  “Are we assuming aggression where none exists?” Larak asked, playing devil’s advocate.

  Afra paused. “We could be. The Beetles made their plans exceedingly clear but they might be exceptions to the rule of peaceful exploration. Only I cannot get it out of my mind that the Sodan is deliberately depleting Damia’s energy to reduce her ability to defend herself. And I’ve never had such a presentiment of danger before—not even when I was mind-merged with the Rowan-focus over Deneb.”

  “If we must eradicate the threat this Sodan entity poses, I’d say it would be wiser to do it now, rather than later when he’s closer to this system,” Larak replied, pressing his lips tight against that expedient. “Should we call for naval backup?”

  “Ha! Sodan’d be orbiting Aurigae before the Fleet would bestir itself to action,” Afra replied derisively.

  “Especially right now,” and Larak’s grin was amused, “when they’re investigating the nibbles at Procyon’s DEW system.”

  “What?” Afra stared at Larak, struck by a horror of several Sodans converging on the Nine Star League.

  Larak was delighted at the effect of that casual statement. “They’re keeping it to a need-to-know basis, but don’t worry. So far it’s been limited to unidentifiable impingements,” and Larak shook his head vigorously to reassure the Capellan, “and neither the scouts nor all that sensitive instrumentation has revealed anything in the least bit hostile. Those sentinels are sensitive enough to be set off by spaceflot or cometaries. This Sodan’s modus operandi seems to be entirely different. We Talents destroyed the Beetles more or less by ourselves. I think we can handle this mental giant.”

  Afra gave a mirthless laugh. “We’ll be lucky if we can.” He nodded briskly when Larak regarded him with astonishment. “Oh, yes, that mind is incredibly powerful. Not at all like the Beetles where there were only sixteen control beings that had to be diverted. And, if he has been insidiously reducing Damia’s strength or getting past her shields . . .” Afra paused, adding very softly, his yellow eyes clouded, “he could quite possibly destroy us.”

  “Let’s get Dad and Mother in on this,” Larak said in sudden resolution.

  Together the two soberly presented their conclusions to Jeff and the Rowan.

  Surely if you were an alien contacted by a strong mentality, you would exercise caution in revealing details? the Rowan suggested. I would, if I met a mind in outer space.

  You did, Jeff reminded her, and I was very friendly indeed.

  Jeff!

  If this Sodan is draining Damia, he means her, and us, no good, Jeff went on, speaking in an official tone. We are agreed that Afra does not cry panic unnecessarily, so we must act on his recommendations and now, before this entity gets close enough to investigate the Aurigaen system. Especially before he discovers the Aurigaen system and the rich lodes on that planet. I’m also keenly aware of how little defense Iota Aurigae has against space attack.

  You concur with Afra that he’s prospecting for new sources of raw materials? the Raven asked, in a tone of indecision.

  That’s our main push in finding new planets, isn’t it? Larak said.

  If Damia is as exhausted as you suggest, Afra, how can we use her as focus? In the first place, she’s not likely to agree to take aggressive action against an entity she considers friendly. She spoke as Damia’s mother, not Callisto Prime.

  No, she’s not, Afra said sourly.

  And yet we need to use her link to his mind to make our own contact. There’s also the point that, Jeff continued, not at all liking the expedient, if we do discover, and prove to her, that this Sodan entity is truly dangerous, to her, to Aurigae, to us, that we may need her catalytic ability to increase our defense against him.

  Each day Damia returns to Aurigae a little more tired than the previous one, Afra said slowly. I was immeasurably drained after only a few moments in link. That’s never happened to me before.

  I think Afra’s correct to call him a soul-eater, Larak put in.

  There’s no such thing, the Rowan said sharply.

  I don’t know what else to call him that’s as accurate, Afra said. Or how else to describe the effect he has on her.

  In any case, Jeff said firmly, I find it disturbing to think of her immense natural energy being depleted.

  Highly unlikely. The Rowan bristled with indignation.

  Let us conclude this swiftly, Larak cautioned them. Damia’s returning and . . . WOW! Is she dragging!

  Afra suppressed annoyance that the curious childhood link between sister and brother gave Larak the edge in sensing her return. But, as Afra reached out to touch her mentally, her aura was very dim, indeed. He concentrated on the lightning debate that Jeff, Rowan, and Larak carried on, as decision and strategy were settled in the moment before Damia’s capsule landed in its cradle.

  “Larak, I couldn’t believe I felt your touch,” she cried happily as she saw her brother, the picture of casual relaxation, perched on the edge of the console.

  “Believe it, sister dear, your favorite bro is here,” he said, rising to embrace her. “This alien sure has got you wrapped up and tied like a present. See how the mighty have fallen.” When Damia flushed, Larak roared with laughter. “I’ve got to meet a guy who can do this to my sister.”

  “Really, Larak, how puerile! You obviously have no conception of what a momentous occasion this is. I’ve always felt that I was given unusual strengths and abilities for a special reason,” Damia said, her eyes shining, “and now I know what it is!”

  “The whole planet will know in a moment if you don’t reduce your output,” Afra said sharply, to give Larak a chance to control his shock at her extraordinary remark.

  With some resentment, Damia dampened down her emotional outpouring.

  “I suppose you arrived with an appetite like a mule,” she said with some resignation.

  Larak’s expression was a study of innocent hurt.

  “I’m a growing boy, and while you’re out courting, Afra’s getting overworked, leaner, and hungrier.”

  Damia looked guiltily at Afra.

  “You do look tired,” she said with concern. “Let’s all push over to the house and have dinner. Larak, why are you here?”

  “Oh, Dad wants Afra to pinch-hit on Procyon. Those two T’s who’re buffering Guzman are down with one of the local viruses and traffic is backing up. You know we have to jolly Guzzie along, but he hasn’t much stamina these days. He’s complained that I’m too young for such responsibility,” and Larak’s grin was pure malice. “Say, what’s this alien ship of yours like? Crew or full automation for a voi
d trek?”

  Hand poised over the cooking dials, Damia hesitated. She regarded her brother with a blank expression.

  “Oh, you men are all alike. Details, details!”

  “Details like that may bore you, sister heart, but they fascinate me. But if you want to continue on the abstract level, let me catch such mundane details for myself.”

  “You can’t reach that far.”

  To Afra her tone was protective as well as defensive.

  “Let me hop a ride with you tomorrow, then.” Larak snagged a raw vegetable stick from the crisper and seemed more interested in its taste than her agreement.

  Damia hesitated, looking for support from Afra, who shrugged “Why not?” as he followed Larak’s example and savored a crunchy white root with a slightly aniseed flavor. She caught no more than that from Afra’s mind when she sent a swift probe. And, he was certain, no more than that from Larak’s if she tried her brother. Even as close as they were, her probe was a poor imitation of her customary mental dig.

  “C’mon, sis, what’s to be coy for?”

  “I’m not being coy!” Her temper flared in irritation, then subsided. “It’s just that . . . just that . . . these are very delicate stages in establishing a rapport . . .”

  “Delicate? Rapport?” Larak blurted out, staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re making a first contact, not a first date! That is, if it’s even marginally humanoid.”

  “His is a true mind, brilliant, powerful,” she said haughtily. “The form is immaterial.”

  “Oh?” Larak’s mobile face expressed extreme doubt. “Never thought you’d fall for the cerebral type, Damia, not the way you’ve developed.” He eyed her, not as a brother, but as an interested male.

  Damia reddened, half with fury and indignation, and half with a sudden virtuous embarrassment for her brother’s accurate gibe.

  “Ever since you and Jenna propagated a child, you’ve turned insufferable! Why, if I hadn’t been out here, we wouldn’t have been warned at all.”