“One or two of the others believe we’re right, but they’re all easily led,” he said. “I meant what I said. If we want to stop this treaty, we’ll have to do it ourselves.”
“You haven’t answered my question. What do you plan to do?” she repeated.
“I’m thinking that the quickest way to stop the talks is for there to be a Terran death on the Khalossa.”
Maikoe’s mouth fell open in shock. “You plan to kill one of them?” Her voice came out almost as a squeak.
Chyad frowned. “These talks aren’t going to take long. Can you think of a better or quicker way?”
“Aah, um. I haven’t actually been thinking along those lines,” she admitted.
“Then start thinking that way now, because I can’t see any act more guaranteed to make the Terrans back out of the talks.”
“It sounds like a suicide mission, Chyad,” she said. “I don’t feel like departing this life yet, thank you.”
He drained his mug. “I’ve no intention of getting us caught. That’s why I told them to say nothing of how they feel at this meeting. I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow. There’re one or two people I need to speak to. Try to find out where your friend Mito is and have a word with her. See what she thinks of the Terrans’ relations with the Valtegans.”
“Why are you so against the treaty?”
“Because I know the Terrans are in league with the Valtegans.”
*
As the shuttle set down in the landing bay, Carrie woke, yawning and stretching.
“Why are my arms and legs never long enough when I want to stretch them?” she asked, stifling another yawn.
Kusac opened his mouth in a grin, the outer edges of which were beginning to curve, Terran style. “Are you sure you have no Sholan blood, cub?” he asked with a deep purr as he sat up.
Maybe it’s catching, she sent with a grin of her own. “Where do we go now?”
“You go with Rhian and Askad for the moment. I’ll have to accompany Captain Garras and the others for a debriefing. I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
The Sirroki crew left the shuttle last, accompanied by Rhian and Askad. Carrie hesitated briefly at the top of the ramp, then Kusac’s steadying hand was there to reassure her as they stepped out into the chill and glare of the landing bay. As the cold air struck her, she shivered, remembering the last time she’d been in a spaceship. It was as cold here as it had been on the cryo level on the Eureka.
This isn’t the Eureka, Carrie, Kusac sent. We don’t have cryogenics on board. What happened to your mother can’t happen here.
I know, she replied, giving herself a small shake. I’m all right.
It was with relief that she noted there was no sign of the Terrans. All around her was the hustle and bustle of the various craft being serviced and refueled. At the far end of the bay, through a group of disembarking Sholans, she saw the retreating backs of Guynor and his guards.
We’re holding the others up, he sent gently, his hand tightening on her arm briefly.
She nodded and made her way down the gangway with him. At the bottom of the ramp her meager bag of possessions lay waiting for her.
Vanna sniffed the air dramatically as they all headed across the bay to the main exit.
“Gods, but it’s good to be home again!” she said. “The familiar smells of reprocessed air, my own room, a shower, and a comfy bed! Shall we meet up for a meal in an hour or two?” she asked, looking first at Carrie then at Kusac.
“Sounds good,” said Carrie.
Kusac nodded.
“Rec level mess?” asked Vanna, as they stopped outside the elevator, waiting for it to return to their level.
Reluctantly, Kusac nodded again.
The doors slid open and they stood back, waiting for those on it to leave. Carrie moved surreptitiously behind Kusac, trying to avoid the openly curious looks.
They piled into the lift, crowding toward the back of it to make space for the pilot and crew of one of the shuttles.
Sensing Carrie’s need to orient herself, as well as her slowly rising tide of panic, Kusac leaned down to speak to her. “We docked on the lower level bay, our main one. Now we’re going up to the ship level where we change elevators.”
“Ship level?”
“The ship has two types of levels. The first thirteen are where our ground forces live and work, the levels above that are the ship levels, where all the officers, pilots and those involved in running the Khalossa live.”
“Why separate levels? Aren’t you allowed to mix?”
“Yes, of course, but apart from the main mess and the concourse where the supply store and the bars are, the troopers tend to stick to themselves. Being ground troops, they don’t have a lot in common with us.”
The doors opened, and Rhian touched Carrie gently on the arm, drawing her attention. “This is our level,” she said.
Panic welled up and she was unable to take that first step away from Kusac’s side. She looked up at him.
“I’ll join you as soon as I’m finished,” he reassured her. “You’ll be fine with Rhian and Askad.”
“I’ll see you later, too. You won’t get rid of me that easily!” joked Vanna as Carrie took a deep breath and followed the Leska pair out.
The doors closed and they continued on up to the administrative level.
“Is going to the rec level mess so soon a good idea?” Kusac asked, his voice low. “Wouldn’t one of the smaller mess areas be better?”
Vanna shook her head. “She’ll have to mix with the rest of the ship’s crew soon enough, Kusac. Now is as good a time as any.”
“I think it’s too soon,” he said. “Everything we do is being rushed. Too much too soon,” he repeated.
Vanna shrugged. “The decision is yours, Kusac. You know her better.”
“That’s just it, I don’t,” he said tersely.
*
Though the rest were dismissed after only a few hours of grueling questioning, Kusac’s continued presence was requested by the officiating member of the Alien Relations Guild. Half an hour later he made his way to the nearest communicator booth with the official’s words still ringing in his ears.
“Have you any idea of the political implications involved in your Link with this human girl? You have? Well, I’m glad to hear it, because I’ll want a full explanation of why and how it happened from you and the Telepath Guild within the next few days! Her father is their equivalent of a planetary governor, and I’ll wager he’ll be none too impressed when he realizes the connotations of your association with his only daughter. Nor will he be overly pleased to discover she’s now part of the Sholan Forces because of that association!”
That was the least of what he’d said. Even the memory of the interview made Kusac wince. He keyed in the code for Rhian’s quarters but received a busy signal, then a message from Askad saying Rhian and Carrie were waiting for him in his room.
Cursing, he headed downward. He should have arranged to meet them in their quarters rather than let them assume she was moving in with him. With her human frontier colonist morals… Within five minutes he was palming open the door.
Rhian rose as he entered. “You were quicker than we anticipated,” she said. “I expected you to be another couple of hours at least. I’ll see you both later, once you’ve settled in.”
“Isn’t this your room?” asked Carrie, looking from Rhian to Kusac.
“Good gracious, no!” she said with a laugh. “This is a single room. You’ll be moved to Leska quarters but probably not till tomorrow.”
“I thought I was staying with you,” said Carrie, getting up from the chair. “No one said anything about me living with Kusac. I can’t do it. I won’t.” There was a rising note of panic in her voice.
Rhian hesitated, sending a puzzled look in Kusac’s direction.
“It’s all right, Carrie,” said Kusac, remaining where he was by the door. “There’s no need for you to stay here. It was just assumed
that you would. I’m sure Rhian wouldn’t mind you living with them for a few days till we sort things out.”
She’s not ready for this yet. She needs a little time to get used to our ways, he sent to Rhian. Can’t she stay with you?
“Of course you can stay with us,” said Rhian, “if you’re sure that’s what you want?”
“Yes,” said Carrie, grabbing her bag before the Sholan female changed her mind. Then, as she realized the implications, she looked at Kusac. “It isn’t that I don’t…” she faltered.
Kusac made a dismissive gesture with his hand, tail flicking briefly. “It’s all right, cub,” he said. “I understand. Stay a few days with Rhian and Askad till you know your own mind better.”
“If we’re going to meet up with your friends at the mess, we’d better hurry,” said Rhian. “I’ll have her there in about an hour, Kusac.”
Kusac shut the door behind them, tail twitching in annoyance as he walked over to the bathroom. Unfastening his belt, he pressed the seals on his jacket, taking it off and flinging it on his bed in passing. He was tired, mentally and physically tired, of trying to understand Carrie and keep pace with her moods.
He’d studied the Touiban and Chemerian cultures and even worked with them for a while, but that had been on Shola and those aliens had been experienced space travelers. She was not. He’d never been involved in First Contact before. Studied it, yes, but the reality was entirely different, especially when the alien involved was his Leska.
Despite their Link, despite their closeness, every forward step he tried to take with her was like moving through a thornbush. He needed time to think through what he’d picked up about her culture during his stay with her in Valleytown and compare it with the memories he had assimilated from her. Maybe then he could anticipate the problems before they appeared. At the moment they seemed to stumble from one crisis to another and that was no way to build a relationship. Perhaps some time on his own was what he needed, too.
He stepped into the shower, turned on the water, and reached for the soap container. What was Carrie’s problem anyway? They both knew how they felt about each other, so why the difficulty over their pairing? Her people took one partner for life and though his didn’t, he was offering her the same. She wouldn’t lose status among Sholans by being his Leska, quite the opposite. It was considered a mark of favor by the Gods, Vartra in particular, to have a Leska. But an alien Leska? How would that affect his life?
He sighed, stopping that line of thought and letting the hot water sluice over him, washing the soap and grime away and easing some of the tension from his muscles.
His mind began to drift again. Leskas. Now that he was back on board the Khalossa he could find out what a Leska link involved. Hurriedly, he switched off the water and, grabbing a towel, headed back into his bedroom. Switching on the desk comm, he keyed in his ident and logged into the Telepath Guild library for their files on Leskas.
He toweled himself absently as he scanned through the general information; then, as the subject divided into detailed topics, he found that certain files were sealed.
Damn! That boded ill. It was even more vital that he have access to those files. He sat down, weighing the risk of discovery now against the certainty that his identity was going to come out into the open within a few days. Resolutely he punched in his own security code, opening up the remainder of the files. As he read further, he forgot everything else.
A chime sounded from the comm and he blinked, taken by surprise. Reaching out, he keyed in the vidiphone channel; Vanna’s face came on the screen.
“Is everything all right, Kusac?” she asked, an ear twitching in concern. “Carrie’s already here with us. Are you coming?”
Mentally he gave himself a shake. “Yes. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Sorry.”
She nodded. “See you.”
The screen blanked, returning him to his files. He closed the channel and switched off, realizing with a shiver that he was still damp.
Picking up the discarded towel, he began to rub himself vigorously but it did nothing to dispel the chill he felt inside.
*
Rhian and Askad lived on level 20. Their quarters were the more spacious ones reserved for Leska pairs and boasted a small lounge and two bedrooms. Carrie was shown to a room the same size as Kusac’s had been.
“You have the room with the bath,” said Rhian, indicating a door to the rear of the bedroom.
“How come you have two bedrooms?” Carrie asked, dumping her bag on the floor.
“This is Askad’s room, when he chooses to use it,” Rhian said, stuffing the contents of a couple of drawers into a cupboard. “You can use these while you’re here. I have the larger room, which we’re both using at present.”
She moved over to the wardrobe, clearing a space for her unexpected guest there, too. “Why should we want separate rooms?” Rhian turned round to look at Carrie, cocking her head on one side, ears turning in her direction. “Why not? We have our own lives to lead, and occasionally one of us meets someone nice with whom we wish to spend a few days or weeks.”
Misinterpreting her startled look, Rhian grinned in the openmouthed Sholan style. “We work for Alien Relations,” she said. “I can pick up very little from you telepathically as yet, but the ‘Why?’ was so loud I think even the untalented could have heard you!”
She handed Carried a thick toweling robe. “Here, go and have a bath. After a month living rough, I’m sure you’re feeling itchy and uncomfortable. Admin will catch up with you in a day or two and make sure you’re issued with all the essentials. I’ll lend you what you need till then.” With that she was gone, leaving Carrie to her own devices.
The bathroom was easily navigated, and though there wasn’t the time for a long soak, she emerged feeling refreshed and clean for the first time in several weeks. As she toweled her hair, she came back through to the bedroom.
An oval bed dominated the room. Gingerly, she sat on the edge of it, half afraid she would roll into the central bowlshaped depression. Unbidden, an image of a curled-up sleeping Sholan sprang to mind. The memories from Kusac were blending into hers now as she began to experience life in his culture. It was unsettling.
She sensed Rhian outside the door before she heard the knock.
Carrie opened the door, admitting Rhian and an armful of brightly colored clothes.
“I have some clothes I can lend you until you have the time to buy your own,” she said.
“I’ve brought some things with me, thanks,” Carrie said.
“Let me show you anyway,” said Rhian, depositing her bundle on the bed. “Certain plain colors denote the guilds and can’t be worn by anyone other than guild members. As a telepath, you are entitled to wear purple like us and it would be wise to be seen wearing it from the first so everyone is aware of your status.”
“What status?” asked Carrie, an edge to her voice. “Do I have to proclaim to the world I’m part of a Leska team?”
“The color only tells others you are of the Telepath Guild,” said Rhian calmly, her tail giving an involuntary twitch. “When the guild grades you, you’ll wear a mark of rank on your uniform. Next to it will be the symbol ‘L’ to show you are part of a Leska pair. It is necessary,” she said, her voice rising as Carrie opened her mouth to protest. “Should there be an accident, they’ll know that you have a partner nearby who must also be found. You’ll need to wear that badge on your leisure clothes, too. All this will be explained to you later, not now.”
Carrie subsided, muttering. “Kusac’s already told me.” She knew Rhian was not the one to argue with over this.
“Look,” said the Sholan female, reaching out fleetingly to touch Carrie on the arm. “You are a new species. Do you really think news of your telepathic abilities and your Link to one of our people hasn’t already spread throughout the ship? We’ve been in space for seven months now. It has been boring beyond belief until we arrived here. The events on Keiss, with you
and Kusac as the central characters, will be the subject of gossip for a long time to come. What does a small insignia on your collar matter more or less? If you fight all our customs before you understand them, you’ll wear yourself out to no purpose. Now, come on,” she said persuasively. “You’re about to go and enjoy your first real Sholan meal with friends. Let’s choose something nice for you to wear.”
Despite her protests, Carrie let herself be persuaded into borrowing some of the less brightly colored clothes to augment her rather drab trousers. Those she refused to leave off. Finally she chose a long blue overtunic with panels split to mid thigh and a contrasting undertunic.
“Hm,” said Rhian, regarding her critically. “It’s longer on you because of your lack of height. Just as well you don’t have a tail,” she grinned, picking a purple sash off the bed and tying it round Carrie’s waist. “That’s better,” she said. “It matches the edging on the tunic.”
“Rhian, we’re only meeting up for a meal,” said Carrie, exasperated by the fuss the Sholan was making over her clothing.
“Meals, and first impressions, are important,” chided the older female. “You will blend in more if you dress like us. Besides, Kusac will like what you’re wearing,” she said. “In fact, even though your legs are covered, the robe still enhances them enough to interest more males than just him, I’ll warrant! Now come, or we’ll be late.”
As Rhian grabbed her by the wrist and towed her into the lounge where Askad was waiting, Carrie made a low noise of disgust. She felt overdressed by her standards to say the least, and only hoped that Rhian knew what she was doing. Still, both she and her Leska were now wearing casual clothes of a similar style.
*
The trip to the mess hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared. There had been many curious glances, but they were just that, nothing more.
“Now you see why I suggested you wear Sholan clothes,” whispered Rhian as they joined Vanna and Garras at a small table in the quieter area of the large room. “You are just the Terran Telepath to them, and naturally you would be in the company of other telepaths.”
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