Damia's Children

by Anne McCaffrey

  His classes were surprisingly crowded. In the first morning slot, which held the most officers, was Malice and Thian began to narrow down the possibilities: Tikele was one, though that surprised Thian; Ailsah Vandermeer was the second; the weapons officer, Fardo Ah Min, a Terran ectomorph with black hair, a sallow skin, and high cheekbones, was the third and the fourth was one of the surgeons, Lacee Mban, a roundfaced man, pale haired, and eyed, with the smallest hands Thian had ever seen on an adult. Lieutenant Sedallia had initially been a strong contender for the honor but he worked so hard at learning ’Dini that Thian scratched him off the list. Innocently Thian was hoping that this antagonist would lose the edge of his distaste for Talents when Thian proved himself on this level but the Malice hovered expectantly: but expecting what, Thian didn’t know. Still, it kept him constantly on the alert, hoping to penetrate the identity or reduce the resentment.

  He had three hours of classes in the morning. Mur and Dip acted as his assistants which speeded instruction considerably for they could conduct pronunciation lessons with those struggling with crucial words and phrases while he explained grammar and syntax and increased vocabulary, written and spoken. These were techniques which his sister had found useful teaching ’Dinis and which he could adopt for Human students. The adults of both species had trouble getting their tongues to accept such contortions. Only now could Thian appreciate the manner of his own learning from childhood onward. None of the Humans would know how often Mur and Dip were convulsed in ’Dini laughter and sometimes he too found it difficult not to join in: ’Dini laughter being infectious—for him, at least.

  By 1200, he grabbed a quick lunch with Mur and Dip and performed any ’portation duties. Sometimes he was awakened by an urgent request to “catch” a supply drone for the Vadim: usually a medium-sized affair. He didn’t mind such awakenings for he had a chance to exchange greetings with the sender, often his grandfather or grandmother, and sometimes—when he “caught” for the ’Dini ships—Laria.

  To her alone could he mention Malice.

  Poor Thian, and on your first assignment, too, Laria had said with full sympathy. And you can’t identify him, her? It may just be sour grapes, you know, since the person is projecting. Sometimes Talents are too nebulous to be directed or refined and the person is naturally resentful. But aren’t you meeting with the listed Talents on the ship?

  Yes, but it’s slow, what with all the other duties I seem to have acquired. Thian didn’t exactly feel abused but he also didn’t seem to have time for anything but his duties, eating and sleeping.

  Don’t worry, Thi, his sister said encouragingly, it does seem that way at first. You’ll have more time once everything settles down—to mere boredom.

  They’ve a barque cat, Lar, and she had kittens, he told her the morning after Queen Tabitha Many-Coats produced six: three of them tri-colored females. The entire crew had rejoiced! She likes me, he added rather smugly, adding glimpses of the several times Tab had sought his company.

  Don’t antagonize the crew over their cat, Thian, she warned him urgently in a fashion that would have irritated him from his sister if he hadn’t also “seen” her genuine concern. They’re not Coonies, you know, who are notoriously fickle! Be careful not to let one of the kittens decide you’re his, or hers.

  Thian sent her a patronizing grin. Yeah, sis, I know!

  Thian, about the other problem. Trap Malice into revealing himself. Remember the way you got Roddie into trouble?

  Thian chuckled out loud. Thanks, Lar. Surprised I didn’t think of it myself.

  It’s not as if you haven’t had a lot to think about, Thi! Love ya! She sent a mental hug that was almost as palpable as a physical one.

  Trap my Malice, huh? he thought, still reclining in the couch and becoming aware of the normal bridge activity around him. The way I did Roddie! He’d have to go about it cleverly: his antagonist was an adult, not a petulant boy.

  And Laria might be right about a sour-Talent. None of his suspects were on the list Captain Ashiant had handed him. So far, none of those he had interviewed privately—and that had taken time and effort—were more than minimally Talented. He’d three 12’s, the lowest weight, two 10’s, and a 9. He was saving Alison Anne Greevy—whose appearance on the list wasn’t that big a surprise since she was a T-5 Empath—until the last as he’d already had enough contact with her to access her mind in an emergency. The 10’s and the 9 were mechanically inclined which could be helpful personalities in special emergencies and one was a chief petty officer. The three 12’s, ratings all, would be makeweights, none of them having any other special aptitudes. The captain’s name was not on the list either, although Ashiant’s ability to shield his thoughts indicated some latent gift: maybe just to shield. Some people had that and no other aptitude.

  He was also assembling a thesaurus of specifically technical terms, using the Rondomanski technique. Over his lifetime, since the ’Dinis approached his mother and father on Deneb, drafters and scientists had been correlating technical data, drawings, equations, theories for translation. ’Dini and Terran science had been exchanged on all levels in every aspect of space travel and exploration: the ’Dinis and Terrans alike using conflicting terms to describe the apparatus used in the same manner or the same end. One had to be careful not to confuse terminology. Having been raised on a mining planet, Thian was already familiar with technological terms—and the technological mentalities—but he also needed specific naval applications and asked Commander Tikele to suggest personnel to assist him.

  “I’d best do the engineering,” Tikele told him gruffly and he went on to recommend officers in the other disciplines. “Sedallia can help, too.”

  Thian was both surprised and pleased by such cooperation: this could be a chance to probe two suspects. Both engineers were so enthusiastic and involved in the task that he found it hard to consider either of them as his private “Malice.” That personality was much too negative about so many aspects that were raised in the language lessons. Malice was negative in all comments so far.

  Then, just as he was beginning to be easy with the established routine, several incidents occurred. The first happened in sick bay. Or rather the aftermath of it came to his notice in sick bay. Although the air on the Vadim was slowly improving, Mur occasionally had bouts with dehydration hiccups which were eased by immersion. On instructions from Sbl, Commander Exeter had kept the treatment water from the first bath and, when needed, Thian took Mur down to sick bay for another session. They arrived at the facility to find Shore Police on guard, looking exceedingly stern. Sick bay itself was packed with personnel. The bruisings, black eyes, broken noses, split lips and skulls, and several men nursing damaged hands, arms, and fingers left no doubt in Thian’s mind that there had been a major brawl. In his surprise, he let down his shields and was bombarded by active hatred and such negative emanations that he was nearly ill. But he couldn’t ignore Mur’s condition.

  Chopping off all natural empathy, he worked his way toward Gravy who was cleaning the blood from a burly gunner’s face. Her public mind was vivid with disgust for the stupidity which led grown men to beat each other to pulps for the sheer exercise of brute force and an earnest wish that head wounds didn’t bleed so profusely. Thian put a “finger” on the artery that was producing the flood so he could find out from her where Mur’s water cask was stored.

  “Thian, you don’t know anything about first aid, do you?” she asked, giving him a distraught smile, her expression anxious.

  “Enough to help out, I think,” he said, “but only after I’ve got Mur in the bath again.”

  She rolled her very expressive pale green eyes. “We’ve no place to put him—it, not with all these here and, honest, Thian,” she said in agitation, “you don’t want your friend anywhere near these clods.”

  “No, I don’t.” Just to be sure his friends might not be part of whatever argument occasioned the brawl, he shot a quick look behind her public mind. She had such a genuine carin
g personality that it was not an intrusion. To his relief, the melee had started over some perfectly innocuous statement which was taken up wrong by men too long in each other’s company with no relief. “We can just manage the bath in my cabin, I think. Show me where it is,” he added, dropping his lips close to her ear.

  She blinked, squidged her eyes shut in an effort to concentrate on its position in the storeroom and he chuckled.

  “Gotcha, and thanks,” he said, moving away.

  Foremost in Gravy’s mind was the wish for an extra pair of hands right now to stop bleeding, check for skull depressions or other less obvious and internal results of the fierce, if short, confrontation.

  Thian knew that he could be of some assistance, even if no one would ever be aware of it—which was probably the best way to handle his intervention.

  First Mur had to be taken care of so he “grabbed” the cask and the bath and shoved them up to his cabin. He collected Mur and Dip who had waited in the corridor with the statuesque SP’s, and urged them on to the next empty passage.

  I MUST HELP MEDICS. DPL, BATH AND TANK ARE NOW IN CABIN. CAN DPL MANAGE NECESSARY ARRANGEMENTS FOR MRG?

  HAVING OBSERVED THEM, IT IS EASILY DONE.

  I SEND YOU THERE.

  MRG NEEDS BATH. DPL MANAGES. THN NEEDED MORE HERE TO BLOT HUMAN FACES STITCH HUMAN WOUNDS SET HUMAN ARMS. And Dip made shooing gestures with its upper extremities. ’Dini humor was usually unexpected and Thian grinned appreciatively. Then very carefully, he ’ported his friends to the now tight confines of his cabin where Mur could bathe in peace.

  Next he let himself in an empty cabin adjacent to sick bay and started to scan the waiting patients, keeping a light contact with Gravy. His greatgrandmother, for whom he was named, had made certain all her descendants understood basic initial medical treatment and its mental signs. Thian had never thought he’d be putting that training to use on such a wholesale basis. When he sensed internal bleeding in one young rating, he directed Gravy away from the next man in line to him, suggesting to Gravy that the boy’s color was wrong. He “pressed” on any number of arteries to curtail bleeding and eased as much pain as he could. He also “heard” many grievances of men and women cooped for an unconscionable time in each other’s company with no respites for months and none in sight . . . unless the bleeding planet of the bleeding Hive was found and even action would be preferable to sitting in this bucket plowing who knows how many years away from a decent port.

  When he heard the legitimate occupant of the room returning, he ’ported back to his cabin. Mur had just finished the bath and Dip was drying its pelt. The cabin had a medicinal smell to it: not all too unpleasant. Tired as he was, Thian decanted the bath into the cask, and replaced both in the storeroom.

  The next day the second incident occurred when he received a request from Sblpk for him to dispatch a personnel carrier from the KLTL with young ’Dinis to be returned to the homeworld. They were the result of that latest hibernation of ’Dinis on board.

  That, in itself, surprised Thian. He knew, from a remark of Gravy’s that strict contraception was practiced by the mixed crews of the Human ships. But ’Dinis were not human and their procreative drives did not respond to any contraception that he’d ever heard of. He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to anyone that there would inevitably be young on board long-haul ’Dini vessels. How they had solved the problem before he didn’t ask. It wasn’t his business. Not only did the ’portation of sixteen young ’Dinis give him a chance to have a few words with Laria, but it also gave him a very good idea.

  D’you get many nursery shipments, Laria? he asked in the process of dispatching the carrier.

  More than you’d guess, considering how long the various elements of the Search have been going on. He could see the grin she must be wearing. You’d think they had nothing else to do on board.

  Laria! He was surprised by the overtones.

  They’ve a far more acute problem than Humans do, although that was hard to believe.

  Humans have another problem the ’Dinis don’t have—short fuses.

  What? Oh! A bad brawl? On shipboard? Isn’t that dangerous?

  There were twenty-five in sick bay, and not all with just black eyes and bruises.

  Ready when you are, Thian, Laria said in her professional tone and he pressed in on the KLTL’s engines to ’port her the precious young ’Dinis.

  Apart from protesting the journey, they’re safely here and such a to-do from the Nursery! Laria’s tone was amused. Inform Sblpk that all have safely arrived and will be settled with appropriate fosters of the same color.

  THIS IS WELL DONE! HUMAN HELP WAS NEVER MORE NEEDED. THESE WILL NOT BE WASTED, Sblpk said, bowing with more than formal courtesy to Thian.

  As Thian returned to the Vadim, he suddenly realized what happened to ’Dinis born on long journeys and was almost overcome with a wave of painful regret. Small wonder human help in transporting their young back to the homeworld was so well received.

  That was what gave him the idea. It wasn’t only young lives that could be lost on a long voyage, no matter how well conditioned men and women might be to such confinement. He asked for, and received, an immediate appointment with Captain Ashiant.

  “Sir, I was down in sick bay yesterday . . .”

  The captain regarded him with a blank expression.

  “Sir, why do I have to send empty drones back to the supplying planets?”

  Ashiant cocked his head slightly, and without even trying to, Thian could hear him mentally repeating his question. A smile began to bloom on the captain’s face and he regarded Thian with overt approval.

  “I don’t know why drones have to be sent back empty to the supplying planets, Prime Thian, but if you don’t mind the extra mass, I think we can equip them with temporary oxygen, and obtain temporary relief from a problem that is becoming more and more urgent! This cruise has already set records in modern naval annals.” The captain rose from his desk and extended his hand to Thian who managed to dampen his own thoughts sufficiently in order to complete the handshaking. The captain was a deep rich brown, clever, astringent. “I beg your pardon, Prime,” he added, suddenly realizing that he had been extremely personal with a Talent.

  “My pleasure, sir,” Thian replied, bowing slightly from the waist. The captain was very definitely his friend.

  “I’ll make up a shore leave list immediately. The very fact that shore leave is possible is going to have an excellent effect on morale. How many can a drone take?”

  “Comfortably and safely, ten.”

  “How many uncomfortably?” Ashiant grinned.

  “Twelve to fourteen depending on size.”

  “Give me weights . . .”

  “Mass and volume, sir,” Thian said, and made rapid mental calculations which he jotted down on the captain’s desk pad. Ashiant watched, washing his hands together with great satisfaction.

  “Yes, this’ll make all the difference.” Then he let out a gusty sigh. “Of course, we’ll have to let our sister ships avail of the courtesy, too. This’ll cut down on the numbers the Vadim can send. Nevertheless,” and he grinned at Thian, “I appreciate it, young Lyon. With two and three drones coming in every seven days . . .” and his grin broadened without the need for words. “Wonder why I never thought of it before.”

  “I should have, if you didn’t, sir,” Thian said, more than a little ashamed he hadn’t.

  “Yes, well, I’ll scarcely fault you on that, Thian!”

  Why Thian should feel as if the captain had paid him a great honor by using his first name, he didn’t know, but somehow that was the feeling he left with.

  THN HAS DONE SOMETHING SPECIALLY GOOD? Mur asked.

  THN HAS FINALLY THOUGHT OF SOMETHING HE SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THREE MONTHS AGO, Thian replied. And explained circumstance and idea. His ’Dini friends were oddly silent when he finished and he wondered.

  THN GO HOME SOON? Dip asked in such a curious tone that Thian knew something was wr
ong.

  TROUBLE, FRIENDS? And he put his arms about them, drawing them closer, radiating comfort.

  Mur and Dip exchanged such rapid sentences that even he, well accustomed to such a pace, missed half the words. As, he suspected, they intended.

  WHAT IS THE TROUBLE? THN DEMANDS KNOWLEDGE.

  Together Dip and Mur sighed and leaned into him.

  MUST GO SOON.

  WHY MUST THN GO SOON?

  MRG AND DPL MUST GO SOON SO THN MUST GO SOON, TOO.

  The coin dropped and Thian hugged his friends. IT IS NECESSARY FOR MRG AND DPL TO HIBERNATE, IS THAT NOT IT? When their pliant bodies gave assent, he hugged them firmly again. MRG AND DPL MUST GO WHEN THIS IS NECESSARY.

  BUT THN WILL BE ALONE AMONG STRANGERS AND THIS HAS NOT BEEN GOOD.

  ON THE CONTRARY, DPL, THIS HAS BEEN VERY GOOD FOR THN. MRG AND DPL MUST GO TO RETURN REFRESHED. TIME WILL GO FAST FOR YOU AND FAST ENOUGH FOR THN. THN HAD NO PROBLEMS WHEN THIS WAS NECESSARY ON AURIGAE. NO DIFFERENCE NOW ON SHIP.

  IF MATTERS WERE PROPERLY ADJUSTED KLTL COULD HAVE BEEN USED BUT IT IS OVER AND THE KLTS WILL BE TOO LATE.

  HOW SOON MUST MRG AND DPL LEAVE?

  WITHIN MONTH.

  SOONER IF REQUIRED? Thian could sense a reluctance in them to leave him, which was gratifying, but he was also well aware of how much they would suffer by prolonging the essential hibernation. MRG AND DPL RETURN TO AURIGAE WITHIN WEEK!

  HOMEWORLD WILL DO AS WELL. There was something about Dip’s manner that made Thian laugh.

  “You are irrepressible!” he said, crowing at Dip’s cunning. The pair could have been accommodated at the Aurigaen installation but there was a certain cachet to going through the process on the homeworld which the two had not yet enjoyed. Even the Mrdini understood the subtleties of status. AND MRG AND DPL WOULD FORFEIT THE COMPANY OF FRIENDS AND RELATIVES AT THIS TIME TO BE ALONE ON THEIR HOMEWORLD?