On Assignment to the Planet of the Exalted

by Helena Puumala

  Kerris watched her curiously even as he crumbled crackers into his second bowl of broth.

  “I gave evidence against that couple,” she told him when she was done. “I mean to keep you safe from them.”

  The boy shuddered but did not speak. He began to spoon up more soup.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kati waited with the silent Kerris while Marga discussed his situation with a blue-uniformed colleague who manned the admittance desk at the Healing Centre. She found it profoundly disturbing how the boy accepted everything that happened to him without asking a single question.

  She had explained to him that they were going to see a Healer who would tend to his hurts, after Lank and Londes had helped him to dress in the loosest of the pants and shirts that Londes had brought. Londes had been ashen-faced when he had come out from the room where Lank had taken Kerris and him, and Kati was sure that the last of his regard for the Exalted Vultairian Citizens had disappeared.

  Joaley and her partner, Ramha, had left to make their report. They had promised to either come, or send someone, to the Healing Centre, to get information about Kerris’ injuries. Kati had agreed to stay available to translate, for as long as necessary, which would not be long, not if the Healing Centre had the boy immediately implanted with a node of his own.

  Rakil had approached her while she and Marga had been waiting for Kerris to dress.

  “How do you know the boy’s language?” he had asked.

  “From the slave ship,” she had replied. “About half the children in the room I was held in were boys who looked like him; the other half, were children from my world.”

  “So you figured that Kerris had to be a slave, like the others of his kind on that ship?”

  “I have a bit more than that, actually. One of those boys was an ESP talent, somewhat older than the others. He discovered that we could communicate telepathically, so we kept in touch even before Gorsh had us all implanted with translation nodes. He told me that he had been planted among the other boys by what he called ‘The Institute’, on his world, because boys had been disappearing from there for some time, and this Institute was trying to find out what was happening. So I knew that wherever Gorsh was selling his slaves, there had to be others like the ‘Murra’s boys’, and the moment I saw Kerris’ face I knew I had stumbled on one of them.”

  “Right in the middle of The Second City,” Marga, beside her, had muttered. “The Vultairian nobles are getting brash beyond belief.”

  “And they would have got away with bringing their slave here, if Kerris hadn’t had the good fortune to run into Kati,” Rakil had said, his bushy eyebrows raised, and a half-smile playing on his face. “I guess we backwoods types come in useful once in a while.”

  Marga had burst out laughing.

  “Never doubt but that you do,” she had said. “You have noticed that we like to keep scads of you around, both here and on the Federation Space Station. We Lamanians, and Shelonians too, have a healthy respect for the up-and-coming races of humanity.”

  “What’s going to be done with the Exalted Citizens Morhinghy?” Rakil had asked.

  “Since they are members of the ruling Oligarchy, the Four Hundred Families, the Vultairian Representatives to the Federation Senate will be trying to get them out of our hands and back home, untouched. I doubt that my friend Maryse r’ma Darien will agree to that. If word about this has reached her, I imagine she is livid, and she won’t back down even from a Vultairian Oligarch.”

  Kerris’ walk, when he had come from getting dressed, had seemed a little more normal than it had earlier, his feet now shod in the comfortable, soft boots that conformed to the wearer’s feet while supporting them. Barefoot, he had walked awkwardly, as if on sore soles. Lank had brought him over to Kati and Marga, and had placed his hand into Kati’s.

  Marga had called up the elevator to take them to the first floor.

  “I don’t know how his feet are for walking down several flights of stairs,” she had explained to Kati as the elevator whisked them down in seconds. “There’s no need to torture him further.”

  *****

  “I’m sorry that we took so long,” the Lamanian woman with whom Marga had been conferring, said to Kati, when she finally came over. “This place is a quiet establishment, and I’m the only staff right now. I thought that I’d better get Marga’s explanation and nodal report of the situation, first. If some Vultairian official comes to try and pull rank.... But I am Arlys r’pa Cortes, and you’re Kati of Terra, and this is Kerris, the patient. Come, we’ll get Kerris to undress and lie down in the other room, and then I’ll take a look at his injuries. I’ll implant a node right away; the node will speed up the healing processes. Will you explain as much of that to him as you think he can grasp, Kati of Terra?”

  The bed in the room that Arlys led them to, had a sheet with which Kerris could cover himself, once he had removed his clothes. Arlys asked Kati and Marga to turn their backs while Kerris undressed; she as his Healer was allowed to invade his privacy, she explained to Kati so that she could translate it to Kerris, but the other women were not. Thus Kati had her back turned when she heard Arlys’ muffled cry of distress.

  “Oh Lord!” she wailed. “I can’t handle this! I’m going to have to call in a Shelonian Healer! This child has been abused a dozen different ways, including sexually!”

  Kati glanced at Marga, standing beside her. Her white face had turned almost green, and Kati had no doubt that her own was mirroring a similar emotion. No wonder Londes and Lank had both looked grim as death after helping Kerris!

  “All right,” Arlys then said, “he’s decently under the covers. You two can come over, pull up chairs, and sit beside him. I am going to put in a call for a Shelonian Healer; there better be one available right away.”

  She swept out of the room.

  Kati took a chair and sat down beside Kerris’ bed. Marga remained standing.

  “Would you mind very much, Kati, if I left?” she asked. “I want to meet with Maryse r’ma Darien in person, to tell her the details of what has happened. She and I collaborate sometimes, because we have similar views about certain things, including slavery.”

  “Go ahead,” Kati replied. “I don’t think that you could do much here, anyway, and the sooner the Federation Peace Officer Corps gets wind of this, the better. And now you have a bit to add to the City Peace Officers’ reports.”

  Marga nodded.

  “Tell Kerris that he’ll be seeing me again,” she said, heading out the door.

  Moments later Arlys was back.

  “A Shelonian Healer is on his way,” she announced. “And Marga r’pa Vadin is on her way to tryst with the famous Maryse r’ma Darien. Which is all to the good.”

  Kati stared at her curiously.

  “Is this Maryse r’ma Darien truly famous, or were you just using a figure of speech?” she asked.

  “Oh, I don’t really know,” Arlys replied with a grin. “She’s known as one tough lady, and principled beyond belief. She shows no mercy to those who dare to break the laws that it’s her job to uphold.”

  She walked over to a cupboard at the back of the room.

  “I can, while we’re waiting, implant a node into Kerris’ neck. It’s good to get it in before the Shelonian begins to work on the boy. That way he can also minimize any implantation sickness symptoms that the patient might show.”

  Arlys pulled out a small tray of instruments from the cupboard, along with a coiled tube of cranberry-sized, flesh-coloured balls. As she loosed one of the balls onto the tray, Kati’s mind went back to the time on the slave ship when she had received her node. She remembered how the Granda had showed itself to her as it changed places with another flesh ball, in order to be implanted into her. Granda nodes could do that; they chose their hosts, refusing to be implanted willy-nilly where the humans might want them to be. Kati’s node had preferred her as a host over the slave ship Captain’s son. It was not until later that Kati had found ou
t that she had not been the Granda’s first choice either; the Granda had wanted Murra as its host, but had been prevented by its “mother”, the Brain Planet which spawned the nodes. “Mother” had wanted a host who would take the Granda away from the Fringe Planet criminal element, a host who would keep it from the violence to which it had become inured during lifetimes among the dregs of the Space Trade Lanes.

  “My owners told me that a node would make me very sick for the rest of my life,” Kerris said uneasily when Kati explained to him what Arlys was planning to do.

  “They lied,” Kati rebutted. “I saw a half a roomful of boys like you get nodal implants, when I was on the slave ship with them, and none of them had problems. Possibly Murra, who was your age, had a touch of implantation sickness; he and I got our nodes at about the same time, and I was so ill myself that I was in no shape to notice anyone else. He was certainly healthy when I recovered.”

  “You got sick—and then got better?”

  “Yeah. It was because I was implanted as an adult, that’s all. So if you let Arlys do her thing, you’ll be talking with everybody around here in no time, and won’t have to depend on me to translate.”

  Arlys came to the bed and asked Kati to request that Kerris lie with the right side of his head on the bed so that she could access the spot below the left ear, where the node was to be implanted. Kerris complied, and Kati watched the operation. It was over quickly; Arlys made a small cut with a very sharp, small knife, angling it beneath the skin. Then she slid the dormant node into the cut with small forceps, and finished by sealing the cut again with a skin-seamer. Total time elapsed may have been a minute and a half, probably less.

  “Done,” she said to Kerris in his language as she straightened her body out and picked up the instrument tray.

  She smiled at him and he smiled back at her. It was a shaky smile still, but seeing it, Kati began to hope that in spite of what had been done to the boy, he was salvageable.

  Just then the room’s door slid open and a short, rotund, grey-haired man whose skin was the colour of milk chocolate walked in, carefully pressing the bar by the door to lock it. Arlys smiled delightedly to see him.

  “Master Healer Vorlund!” she cried. “I am so glad to see you!”

  “I am happy to be able to help, Healer Arlys r’pa Cortes,” the man replied in a low, melodious voice.

  He looked at the boy on the bed and then at Kati. There was something about him that Kati immediately felt drawn to; Master Healer Vorlund inspired trust. The Monk was less easily convinced; he sniffed a bit. Kati wanted to laugh; she would have tweaked the image’s nose, if she could have.

  “This is Kati of Terra,” Arlys introduced her. “She’s the one who recognized the patient’s situation, and insisted that he be given asylum. She has been translating for Kerris; he did not have a node. I just finished implanting one into him.”

  The Master Healer turned back to Kerris. He walked over to the bed, and stood beside it, across from where Kati was seated.

  “This is the Master Healer Vorlund,” Kati told Kerris; he may or may not have heard her.

  The boy was staring at the Master Healer; suddenly his eyes filled with tears and they overflowed on to his cheeks, and the sheet under his head. The Master Healer grabbed a wipe from a container at the head of the bed, and set to dry the child’s eyes, with a gentleness that made Kati’s heart swell with gratitude.

  When he was done, the Master Healer lifted the sheet that Kerris lay under, just enough to take a quick look at the abused body.

  “I do not have to do a physical examination,” he said to Arlys. “I can tell that he has been cruelly used, and there are wounds all over him: his body, his mind, his emotions, everywhere. He certainly needs healing, a lot of healing, and....”

  He turned his eyes to Kati.

  “Kati of Terra, I want you and that difficult creature, your translation node, to help me with this healing. You have healed before, have you not?”

  Kati’s jaw dropped; then she quickly shut it. Of course! The Shelonian Healers were psychic healers! Naturally this one would have recognized her ESP abilities, although for him to have known that she and the Granda had once saved a very ill woman’s life was uncanny.

  “We did deal with a bad case of sea-sickness on the world Makros III, some time ago,” she replied. “Somebody who had no talent but much more knowledge about PSI and Granda nodes than I did, told me that it was possible, so I agreed to try. The woman got better.”

  “Of course she got better.” Master Healer Vorlund smiled at her. It was a beautiful smile, warm and inclusive.

  “Healer Arlys.” He turned to look at the Lamanian woman. “Can you please insure that no-one will disturb us while we work? If you want to stay and observe, you are welcome, but I will warn you that this could take a while, and seem tedious to an observer.”

  “It won’t be tiresome to me,” Arlys protested, stepping over to the wall by the sliding door, where she spent a moment on the node connector button. “All secure; everyone outside will have to wait until the healing is finished.”

  She went to the other side of the room and brought a chair for Master Healer Vorlund; then took one for herself, but sat a little farther away from the bed than Kati and the Master Healer did.

  Kati waited for instruction. The Granda was displaying some huffiness but she ignored its antics, concentrating her attention, instead, on the animated face on the other side of Kerris’ bed.

  Master Healer Vorlund’s mental touch, when it came to her, was extraordinary. It felt light, ephemeral, yet incredibly strong at the same time. Even The Monk, uncooperative though it had seemed to Kati only moments earlier, was drawn fully into the warmth and the sparkle of that atmosphere.

  “All right, Kati of Terra, and your brown monk of an aide,” the Master Healer subvocalized, “I want you to accompany me into the child’s physical structure and feed me energy as I restore its integrity. You will be able to follow what I am doing, and learn some of the tricks of the trade as you do so. Now, let us do it.”

  Kati was a miniature self floating on the energies that the Master Healer projected. The brown-garbed monk that was the Granda was beside her, attached to her via an umbilicus of light. He was feeding energy into her through the umbilicus and she, in her turn, was passing it ahead of her through outstretched arms and hands, to be drawn in by a brightly shining image of the Master Healer. Vorlund’s form entered into a maelstrom of mangled energies which Kati understood to be the psychic counterpart of Kerris’ body. The Master Healer was working on a level different from the one on which she and the Granda had done their healing of Susana. They had dealt with her bodily functions physically, even though they had used Kati’s ESP energies to manipulate them; this was something entirely different from that. That was what Arlys had meant when she had said that Kerris was beyond her ability to help; he needed to be healed at this deeper level if he was ever again to be whole!

  The Master Healer soothed and smoothed the roiling energies that were Kerris. He worked slowly and deliberately—and also very gently. His bright hands drew away blackness and made it disappear, replacing it at times with a white light, and at others, with the various colours of the rainbow. Slowly, very slowly the maelstrom energies were taking on a human form and, Kati understood, the body on the bed would be healing of the wounds, scabs, and scars which had covered it.

  “I think I can tell what he’s doing,” The Monk muttered to Kati, his attention on the Master Healer’s form. “You and I could do something similar, if it ever is necessary.”

  Master Healer Vorlund made a final couple of passes over the now pristine form of the boy’s psychic body counterpart. Then he turned his attention to the two who were behind him.

  “Now we must go inside his mind and heal the mental and the emotional hurts,” he said, looking grave. “It will be much harder than healing the body. He will have built up defences around the pain and he will fight us. That is normal; it is what
has allowed him to live through his ordeals. But to heal him we’ll have to get inside, so I will need every last bit of psychic energy that you can feed me. Understand that you draw energy from the universe every moment of your existence, and that the energy of the universe is limitless. You will be able to give me all I need, and it will help me enormously because I will not have to draw it myself, but can concentrate on what I must do to help this child.”

  “All right,” Kati replied, steeling herself.

  The umbilical between her and The Monk grew brighter and her hands glowed with a green light which the Master Healer’s form drew in at a tremendous rate. He dove into the head of the boy’s energy body, and the Kati-Granda gestalt followed, more slowly and tentatively, but the whole time feeding the green healing light into the Master Healer.

  There was a howl from the boy, and Kati knew that he was screaming on the bed, trashing about in his now healed body. She hoped that Arlys was physically soothing him; most likely she was. She was a healer; she would understand what was happening.

  Master Healer Vorlund appeared to be tearing something apart with his bare hands. Kati heard the sound of something being rent apart. Then she was immersed in pain, hurt so deep that she had to keep herself from crying out. Instinctively she knew that she must keep the energy flowing to the Master Healer, and stay apart from the agony. It wasn’t her pain; it was Kerris’ pain, and she needed to be strong to help the Master Healer put an end to it.

  She saw images that made her shudder. She was seeing, from Kerris’ point of view, Nodras and Norah Morhinghy laughing while they tortured him, while they abused him sexually and encouraged their friends and guests to do the same. What was the matter with those two, she found herself wondering. What was the point of what they were doing to the boy? No wonder Kerris could not figure out what had happened to him, or why; Kati couldn’t fathom the motives either.