fortuneswheel

by Lisanne Norman

  Kaid’s look was thoughtful as he pulled a stim twig out of his jacket pocket and began to chew it. “I gave my report to Dzaka, then called Ghezu myself yesterday.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  He took the twig out. “These are overrated,” he said, looking at it briefly before putting it back in his mouth. “Their only ambition is to be together. If they’re pushed by one or another of the guilds, then they’re likely to become dangerous out of a need to protect themselves. I said I would continue to work with them when we leave for Shola.”

  “So you said there was no need for any action.”

  “Ghezu’s involved Dzaka.”

  Garras frowned. “Dzaka? Why?”

  “He’s Brotherhood. I’m not.”

  Garras let out his breath in an explosive hiss. “Then we could find ourselves working against him. Ghezu just doesn’t give up, does he? Why does he keep targeting you?”

  “He needs to know where he stands with Dzaka.”

  “Where do you stand with him?”

  “The c’shar’s ready,” he said, nodding toward the nowfull jug.

  “Don’t avoid me, Kaid.”

  Kaid took a couple of mugs off the shelf beside him and passed them over to Garras.

  “Kaid!”

  He gestured to the brewer. “Pour the c’shar.”

  Garras’ ears flicked in exasperation as he picked up the jug and filled the mugs.

  Kaid took his drink and added whitener and sweetener. “Dzaka still resents me leaving without him.”

  “Will it cloud his judgment?”

  “He’s a pro. He’ll do his job.”

  “Dammit, Kaid! Will he let it cloud his judgment?” Garras grabbed the arm that held the mug. C’shar spilled over the countertop.

  “I don’t know!” Kaid said angrily, spilling more of his drink as he pulled his arm free. “I don’t know, Garras.”

  “Is Ghezu likely to order their termination?”

  Kaid shrugged. “The Telepath Guild and Ghezu want the same thing— data on human telepaths. At the moment we only have one available. Carrie Hamilton. I think they’re safe for the moment.”

  “Until we have another human telepath,” said Garras thoughtfully. “Gods! I didn’t know what I was getting us into when I sent for you.”

  “Vartra knows what they would have done if you hadn’t,” said Kaid. “They’re not safe yet.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “What you asked me to do in the first place. Guard them closely,” said Kaid. “It’s as well you took Carrie to Dzaka. At least he’s got the chance now to see them at first hand.”

  “Vanna says the meditation is helping Carrie. She’s becoming more able to cope, more relaxed.”

  “Her mind must be very similar to ours, then. I wonder if our techniques would work on a Terran who didn’t have a Link with one of our people,” Kaid said thoughtfully.

  “You know my opinion,” said Garras, taking a mouthful of c’shar from his mug. “The sooner the Telepath Guild uses some of our mental training techniques, the better. There’s been too much inbreeding among the old families, most of them are way too highly strung. Our litanies would help them handle life outside their guilds better.”

  “That’ll be the day! You were right in your initial assessment of these two younglings, Garras.”

  “Hmm?”

  “They’re a true blending of the Brotherhood and the Telepaths. They could mean full guild status for Ghezu, if they survive long enough for him to recruit them, and if he thinks he can control them. They’d be a powerful weapon in his hands. He could break the telepaths’ dominance of the World Council with them.”

  “I know. And if Esken gets them, then he’s got his own loyal private army, hasn’t he? One that’s faithful to his guild and makes him independent of both the Warriors and Stronghold.”

  “His position on the council would be unassailable,” agreed Kaid.

  “Then there’s Vartra.”

  “I wonder what fate He’s planned for them. Rulla says the God’s been walking the halls at Dzahai. Some of the Brothers have been having visions.”

  “Did he say what they were?”

  Kaid shook his head. “No, but he said some of them preferred to follow the God rather than the figurehead. Sounds like there’s some disaffection spreading among the Brothers.” He sighed, leaning forward on the counter. “I tried to reach the God myself, but He’s been beyond me for some time now.”

  “He’ll come to you when He’s ready,” said Garras sympathetically.

  “Can you contact Rulla for me? I want to know if he’s picked up anything from the troopers. I’m not convinced Chyad died in the explosion. I want to be sure.”

  “No problem,” he said. Draining his mug, he got to his feet. “I’ve got to go now anyway. I’ll be in touch.”

  *

  Knowing the personal stress that Carrie and Kusac would face over the next few days, Vanna endeavored to keep them busy recording details not only of their Link but also about Terran life on Keiss. This served several purposes. It provided the Medical and Telepath Guilds with some basic information as well as augmenting Alien Relations’ file. It also gave them each a project to keep them occupied.

  As well as that, she and Garras encouraged them to develop a social life and the couple began to eat more often in the guild mess or at one of the two restaurants with Vanna and Garras. Kusac’s mother helped, too, taking Carrie to the concourse and joining them for meals when her work permitted.

  Carrie had a message sent to Meg and a few days later a case of clothes and board games arrived for her. One that caught on with their friends was Rithmomachia, a game of mental agility involving numerical progressions on counters. It attracted Meral’s and Sevrin’s attention, too, and before long had been adopted by many Sholans.

  Finally, Vanna told them that their systems had leveled out as expected, uniquely parallel to each other. By then Carrie’s training with Rhuso had progressed to the point where her shield was more than adequate, give or take the odd forgetful moment. Rhuso had also managed to make her aware of at least those portions of their ethics that made it possible for telepaths to live together in a community. Life was beginning to come together for them— among the Sholans.

  During this time, Alien Relations had pushed on with their Attitude Indoctrination program, both with the visiting Keissian humans and the ship’s crew. The Keissian peace delegation had been given the grand tour of the ship, then over the ensuing days had been entertained by visits to the Storyteller’s Theater, a restaurant, and various competitive sports ranging from the Sholan equivalent of unarmed martial arts and weapons skills displayed by the Warrior’s Guild, to elaborate games of tag. It culminated with a visit to the Wilderness, an entertainment area unique to the Khalossa.

  The Wilderness was a piece of Shola designed to cater to the Sholan need for wide open vistas. It was planted with trees and grassy areas, and it contained a river running into a small lake. Using computer enhancement techniques, it could portray any climatic region of Shola’s surface. Game could be released for hunting and the lake was stocked with fish. The tree canopy could be navigated using the ropes provided.

  It was one of the places Vanna had suggested that they visit. Mito had been invited and had accepted on the proviso she could bring Anders. Though reluctant, Carrie had agreed and found to her surprise that he had been good company and, like her, fascinated by the plants and animals that inhabited the Wilderness.

  The tour broke the ice that had settled over the peace talks, and though still not completely happy about his daughter’s involvement with Kusac, at least Peter Hamilton no longer make it an issue on which the talks depended.

  *

  Kaid had instructed Personnel not to allow any incoming calls from her father, but according to the Mentor, he had now been exposed to enough of the Sholan culture to be able to reevaluate his opinions concerning them. So it was that a couple of days befo
re Carrie and Kusac were due to leave the Khalossa, an early morning call came in from him.

  Kusac nudged Carrie with his knee.

  “Mmm?” she mumbled, snuggling her back closer into the curve of his body, enjoying the silky warmth of him against her skin.

  “It’s your father,” he said, gently shaking her shoulder. “You’d better get up and take the call in the other room.”

  “Don’t want to get up,” she mumbled sleepily.

  “He’s waiting. Asking him to call back will hardly improve his temper.”

  Carrie groaned and surfaced enough to glower at the screen on the night table. Leaning out of bed, she flicked it on.

  With a reproachful hiss, Kusac moved back from her but not before her father’s image had appeared.

  Peter Hamilton frowned slightly, disapproval evident on his face.

  Kusac sensed that she was throwing her father in at the deep end, forcing him to face the fact of their intimacy.

  “Good morning, Carrie. Kusac,” he said stiffly. “I was hoping to come over and see you this morning.”

  Kusac could feel her reluctance. She didn’t want the repeated hurt of her father’s rejection.

  Maybe he’s changed, sent Kusac. We’ll never know if you refuse to see him. It would be better to try and make our peace with him before we leave for Shola.

  “We’ll be up within the hour,” she said reluctantly. “If you wish to come, bring the duty interpreter with you. I don’t want any more misunderstandings.”

  “I’ve seen the telepaths at work,” said Peter Hamilton slowly. “I understand more about your Link now. I don’t intend to make a scene, Carrie. I love you too much to lose you.” He stopped, looking faintly embarrassed. “I’ll see you in an hour.” He blanked the screen.

  Kusac leaned across Carrie, switching their unit off.

  You’re tracking upwind of him, he warned, sliding his arms round her. I understand, but I don’t think it’s wise.

  I won’t live in shadows, Kusac, she said, turning round. Surely I’m no less his daughter for loving you? I won’t let him make me feel it’s wrong.

  Kusac held her close, feeling her need for him as a person. It felt good. His tail curled protectively round her legs.

  *

  An hour later, Kaid showed Mr. Hamilton and the interpreter into the inner lounge.

  “Liegen Aldatan,” said the interpreter, saluting him with arms crossed over his chest.

  Kusac, caught in the midst of brushing Carrie’s hair, mentally swore a few choice epithets and put the brush down hurriedly. Why did her father always have to catch him at a disadvantage?

  Hamilton hovered near the door, obviously unsure as to how to address Kusac and unwilling to give him the benefit of his rank.

  Unable to ignore Carrie’s unspoken plea, Kusac reluctantly eased the situation by going to greet him.

  “Come in, Mr. Hamilton, Serif. Well come. Be at ease with us, we don’t hold with ceremony here,” he said, escorting both of them over to the settee.

  Mr. Hamilton sat down on the edge. “Is it really necessary for us to have Interpreter Serif and Kusac here?” he asked his daughter. “I’d like to talk to you on your own.”

  “Even if Kusac left the room, he’d know what you said,” she replied, playing with her hairbrush and keeping her eyes down.

  “I realize that, but Serif?”

  “I’ve assured the Ambassador that I can only pick up surface thoughts,” said Serif.

  His mood seems calm. I’ll take Serif to the other end of the room. Then he can feel he has his privacy with you, sent Kusac.

  Carrie shot him a frightened look. No! Don’t leave me with him, I need you close.

  We’re always close, came the reassuring thought.

  Serif rose to his feet, following Kusac.

  “I find the telepaths a little unnerving,” said her father suddenly. “I can usually tell when they’re talking to each other.”

  Carrie wrinkled her forehead in surprise, tucking her legs up into the chair. “Perhaps you should be tested for telepathic abilities then.”

  Her father shook his head. “No, I’m too old for that sort of upheaval in my life. One prodigy in the family is enough,” he said, smiling wryly. “The Commander made sure I realized how important the two of you are to both our species, and I accept what has happened between you.”

  “I’m glad, but what about us? Can you see us beyond the political implications? Doesn’t it bother you that we’re important to each other? Where do Carrie and Kusac fit into your life— if at all?” she asked.

  “I can’t say it’s what I want for you, Carrie, it isn’t,” he said, looking acutely uncomfortable. “I understand your need to be defensive, but if you feel this relationship is right for you, that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t understand at all, do you? I can feel it, so don’t tell me I’m wrong. You think I’m making the best of an intolerable situation, don’t you?”

  “Carrie, I want you to be happy,” he said, leaning forward to take her hand. “I just think that you aren’t going to be happy with him. I don’t see how you can. Think of all the differences between his people and ours; their customs, morals-everything will be different.”

  “When our Link was completed, I understood everything Kusac knew as if I was him,” she said softly, still keeping her eyes down. “I know what it’s like to grow up on Shola, to walk under a sun brighter than ours or Earth’s, to run on all fours across the fields of the estate chasing game. I’m no longer just a human from Earth, or a colonist from Keiss. Part of me is totally Sholan, and the Terrans feel as alien to me as you feel the Sholans are to you.” She looked up at him, forcing eye contact.

  Her father frowned, glancing uneasily away. “You’re talking rubbish, Carrie. Just because you know what it feels like, it doesn’t make you Sholan.”

  “Have you seen my eyes, Father?” she asked quietly. “Look at them and tell me again there’s nothing about me that’s Sholan.”

  He lifted his gaze to hers, a perplexed frown giving way to an expression of shock. “What the hell have you done to them?”

  “They’ve been like that since the night of the reception. I don’t know how or why it happened, but it marks me apart, an external sign of what I feel inside.”

  “They told me you were all right,” he said. “They didn’t say anything about this. What caused it? Is it some kind of illness or disease?”

  “No, I’m fine. I told you, we don’t know what caused my eyes to change, but they’re Sholan eyes now. I’ve never fitted in anywhere before, Father. I belong here, I can have a life of my own with them. I never could on Keiss.”

  Kusac, aware her mood was becoming too introspective, returned to her side and placed a hand protectively on her shoulder. As he did, he felt her lower her shield enough to let her feelings leak out to her father through their hand contact.

  Divining her purpose, he took control, bringing her father briefly into their Link, allowing him for a moment to experience what it was like to share such a mental bond.

  White-faced, her father snatched his hand away. “My God! What was that?”

  “That’s our Link,” said Carrie. “Now you know what it feels like.”

  “I could feel what both of you were thinking, like a constant stream running through my mind. How can you live like that, so aware of each other?” He sat there, face still pale, hands shaking.

  At Kusac’s unspoken request, Serif brought over a mug of c’shar from the unit on the desk and handed it to him.

  Kusac moved to sit beside Mr. Hamilton, wrapping the human’s hands around the cup. “Drink this,” he said. “It’ll help.”

  Her father took a gulp, then another, the tremors beginning to steady. “I didn’t realize people could be that close,” he said quietly. “How can you stand it?” he asked, looking up at his daughter. “It’s so intense, so… dominating.”

  “Only to you,” said Kusac,
standing up and moving back to Carrie. “For us, life would be unbearable without it. What we have isn’t an ordinary Sholan Leska Link, though. It’s more demanding.”

  “And more rewarding,” added Carrie. “Now do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand, and I felt your commitment to each other, but I still can’t say I like it,” he said, putting down the cup. “What about your father, Kusac? Can you honestly say he’s overjoyed? Or your mother?”

  Kusac shifted restlessly. “I’ve told him, and like you he would have it otherwise, but he’s prepared to accept Carrie as my Leska,” he admitted.

  “You can appreciate it isn’t an ideal situation,” said her father.

  “I don’t think you can believe that either of us would have chosen this relationship if it could have been avoided, Mr. Hamilton,” said Kusac, part of his mind shushing Carrie’s mental exclamation.

  “Fathers worry more about their daughters,” he said, getting to his feet. He leaned over Carrie, giving her a hug. “I do wish you happiness in your new life,” he said. “Don’t forget me while you’re on Shola. I don’t want to lose you, Carrie. Call me, or whatever it is they do there.”

  She returned the hug. “Bye, Dad. We aren’t due to leave for a couple of days yet, so I’ll see you before we go.”

  He held out his hand to Kusac who shook it briefly. “We’ll see ourselves out,” Hamilton said.

  *

  “Here’s the report from Intelligence based on Lieutenant Mito Rralgu’s findings, Commander,” said Myak. “With the help of the human Jo Edwards, she’s managed to translate the Valtegan’s deep-space message.”

  “About time,” said Raguul, taking the document from him. He scanned it quickly. “This was sent several days before the base was taken. <‘Loshul to Ghaikkuir base. Investigation of alien cube continuing (?). Cannot confirm (?) it is a data storage unit (?) at this time. Will keep you informed. (?)> Hm, there are several words she’s had to approximate, but it looked like they never did manage to access our code. Intelligence concludes that, in their opinion, it was destroyed when we liberated Keiss if not earlier by the attack on the base. Now that’s good news.” He handed the document back to his adjutant. “See the information is transmitted to Sholan High Command, Myak.”