Veritt went down on one knee and ran his fingers through the soil, smelling it, patting it smooth again. “If I were you, I’d grow trin in this soil. The tea you’ve been serving me is better than anything we raise, and ours is better than any the townspeople can import. They already buy every bit we can spare—and there’s more market than Fort Freedom can supply.”
“I didn’t grow the trin crop. That came from Kadi’s kitchen garden– all her own handiwork!”
Abel laughed. “Will you never stop surprising me with your talents, Kadi? I’ve never known such an accomplished woman!”
Kadi could do very little of the physical work of extending her garden patch of trin into a whole field, but Rimon carefully followed her instructions, and by early summer the field was lushly green. But Rimon also put in grain and corn, beans, and peas against another hard winter.
By that time, Kadi was no longer able to travel back and forth to Fort Freedom. Rimon went seldom now, too, refusing to leave Kadi for more than an hour or two at a time.
They had many visitors from Fort Freedom; either Abel or Jord almost every day, Jon’s parents at least once a week. Jon moved among Simes now as easily as Kadi or Willa, and when he was low-field he would often go home to his family for a day.
Dan Whelan, Sara Fenell, and the others who had broken with Veritt’s teachings, moved out of Fort Freedom. Just across the creek from the seedy little border town they built a row of neat white-painted houses, their own small chapel at the end of the row. They began to work the land which stretched along the creek.
That much Abel told them. Rimon found out for himself that during the spring three more families had become disillusioned and joined the dissenters. Privately, Veritt was worried about what would happen when next a new Sime came to them from across the border. Would the dissenters fight to gain a newcomer—and, if so, how would they fight?
“The whole schism is my fault,” Jord told them. “It all came to a head when I spent all night trying to bring Karl Risaki through changeover. He’d had your training, but it didn’t do any good. He died.”
“That happens sometimes,” said Rimon. “Kadi’s mother was the best changeover attendant I’ve ever seen. But sometimes she lost even a kid who’d been taught everything.”
“Well, after that, I was exhausted,” said Jord. “Rimon, I can’t keep it up the way you do, and after all night with Karl, I was in no condition to help Suzi Hamilton. She was the one who developed pneumonia. Her family—and some others—blamed me for trying to help an accursed Sime– while Suzi deteriorated so that by the time I got there, there was nothing I could do. Or maybe I could have, if I’d been fresh!”
“You didn’t have a Gen to help you,” Kadi pointed out.
Jord shook his head. “Rimon and I brought Evva Blant through without Gen help, remember?”
“True, but we didn’t start out exhausted,” said Rimon.
“When I have Kadi or Willa with me, I work much better.”
“Jord, why can’t I help you?” Willa asked suddenly. She had just joined them, with tea for everyone. Now she settled next to Jord, who relaxed perceptibly as Willa’s field began to work on him.
He stared at her. “You—might get hurt, Willa.”
“No. I help Rimon heal people. They hurt. I don’t.”
Jon Forester suddenly spoke up. “Jord, she doesn’t really understand the danger, but I do. Why don’t you teach me what to do?”
Willa pouted. “I did it before you came here!” Jord winced, and Willa was immediately contrite. “I won’t hurt you,” she said, putting her hand over his.
“I know you won’t,” he replied, “but I can’t protect you —or you either, Jon—the way Rimon does. Pain raises intil. I could turn on either one of you.”
“For transfer?” asked Willa. “Why not?”
Jord looked from Rimon to Kadi and back. “When are you going to tell her?”
Willa stared at him—and the question finally came. “Why don’t you have your own Gens? Or Mr. Veritt or the others? Rimon has Kadi and Jon and me. Why don’t you have Gens to live with you and make you feel good?”
Jord stared at her helplessly.
“Tell her, Jord,” Kadi said.
He looked at her protestingly, and then at Rimon. He nodded and pulled his chair up before Jord and Willa, in range to interfere should Willa become frightened. “Willa is a grown-up girl now. She has to learn to live in the grown-up world.”
Willa straightened proudly, aware of something important about to happen to her. Jord acknowledged Rimon’s precaution with an embarrassed smile. Then Willa said, “Tell me, Jord, why don’t you have Gens living with you? Why did Jon leave Fort Freedom instead of living with you?”
“Jord licked his lips. “Because, Willa, we kill Gens. No other Sime in all the world—can take transfer the way Rimon does, without killing.”
Willa frowned. “Killing? You say that all the time. What does it mean?”
“The Gens—die,” said Jord.
Death Willa knew. She understood that Carlana’s baby had died, as had a baby bird she had found fallen out of the nest. “But—why? Die from transfer? I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I, child,” Jord said sadly. “It should be possible for any Sime to do what Rimon does—and yet we can’t, no matter how we try. The Gen becomes frightened —and—”
Willa turned to Rimon. “When Carlana lost her baby, I got scared. And you—”
“Lost control,” he said tightly.
“But—you went to Kadi, not me. I remember—I didn’t understand except that Kadi was scared.”
“And you saved her life, Willa, and probably mine.”
“I hurt you.”
“Willa, you couldn’t hurt a Sime,” said Jord.
“No, I hurt Rimon,” she said. “I’ll show you—but I won’t hurt you.” She quickly slid her hands into transfer position on Jord’s arms. Rimon started to protest, but was caught in the sympathetic backwash as Jord gave a yelp of pure pain. Willa let go, putting her hands on Jord’s shoulders, soothing him. Kadi reached out to Rimon as well.
“I’m sorry,” said Willa, “I didn’t know you’d pull away. Rimon says never—ever—do that to him. I didn’t mean to hurt!”
But Jord’s eyes were filled with tears—of pain, and something else. “Child—what have you discovered in all your innocence? God be praised, Rimon, why didn’t you tell us this?”
“Because—it doesn’t seem much of an improvement to trade the death of a Sime for the death of a Gen. Suppose Drust Fenell had known this—or found it by accident as Willa did? He must have panicked when Vee tried to take transfer—and if he’d known how to injure her lateral nerves, she’d have been lucky to die immediately of the shock. Otherwise she’d die a slow, agonizing death because she couldn’t take another kill. I saw an injury like that once. I hope I never have to see it again!”
“But Rimon, if a Gen knew he was safe, that he could stop the Sime if he felt pain—then he wouldn’t feel fear!”
“That fear is not rational. Jon, you remember your first transfer?”
“I was scared silly,” Jon admitted. “And I knew Rimon doesn’t kill. But that didn’t help. Rimon didn’t hurt me– but Jord, if I’d tried it with Mom or Dad, and they did hurt me? If I—If I—” He couldn’t even say it, staring down at his hands. “Oh, God, now that I know what I can do, I couldn’t touch another Sime—especially not somebody I love.”
“I will do it,” said Willa.
“Do what?” asked Kadi.
“I will teach Jord.”
“Willa, you don’t understand,” said Jord.
“I do, I do!” she insisted. “After Kadi has her baby, Rimon won’t need me anymore. Then I will give you transfer, Jord. I’ve never been scared of transfer.”
“Child, you don’t understand what we’ve been talking about. Rimon, tell her you won’t allow it!”
Kadi interposed. “Willa, you like Jord, don’t you
?”
“Yes,” the girl replied.
“Do you understand that every time he has ever taken transfer, the Gen has died?”
Jord tensed, but Willa said, “Yes, because they were scared. But,” she said, looking at Jord, “you don’t want them to die.”
Intense with desire, not denial, Jord said, “Rimon, tell her it’s too dangerous!”
“I think Willa understands what she’s offering, Jord. If she’s willing, I have no right to stop her.”
“I shall consult with my father,” said Jord. “We’ll pray together for guidance. Willa, child, you can’t possibly know how much I want to accept your offer—but I’m afraid.”
When Jord had gone, Kadi told Rimon, “Willa suddenly grew up today.”
“She did indeed. I wish I knew the right thing to do. I was zlinning her, Kadi. I think she really does understand that she could die. I think it’s truly a considered, adult decision, in which you and I have no right to interfere, But—”
“But if something goes wrong, we’re going to feel responsible,” Kadi said. “We’ll think she was still the child Jord calls her, and that we should have forbid her to try it.”
“Yet if we never let her try, we’re thwarting one possible way for other Simes to learn not to kill.”
As the heat of summer set in, Kadi was more and more tired. Finally it seemed that she did nothing but eat and sleep as the days passed, until she woke up one dawn in pain. Fear stabbed through her. bringing Rimon running to her side.
She didn’t have to control her fear, though, for it disappeared when Rimon said, “It’s only a contraction, Kadi! It’s time!”
She gave a weak laugh, relief sweeping through her. Rimon said, “I’ll send Jon for the Veritts. Mrs. Veritt’s helped with most of the births at Fort Freedom, Jord can help me support your field, and Abel—well, you know Abel would never forgive us if the baby were born without him here.”
As Rimon moved, she said, “Don’t let Jon go through town alone. There’s time. That was only the first contraction strong enough to wake me up.”
“Rest now,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You’ll require your strength later.”
Chapter Seventeen
MIRACLE
As Kadi slept, Rimon worried. Her field was as low now as it had ever been after transfer, and the worst drain was yet to come. He knew what could happen; he had seen it on the Genfarm. Occasionally a female Gen had symptoms like Kadi’s, entered labor with a low-field, and was totally drained before she could expel the child. Usually they lost both mother and child.
Once in a while, after the mother was dead, they had cut a living child from her body. Syrus Farris had always taken special care of such infants, saying they were likely to be Sime, but Rimon could remember only one that lived more than a few days in the nursery—and she had been only two years old when Rimon and Kadi left. But his father’s beliefs came not from a single instance, but from generations of experience passed from father to son.
To me, thought Rimon. And what good is all the Farris wisdom now? He sat beside Kadi, trying to encourage her body to produce more selyn, and wondering where her strength came from when her field responded—again.
It was more than half an hour before a second contraction brought Kadi awake again. She smiled at Rimon when it ended, and took his hands. “It won’t be long now,” she said, and he realized she didn’t know how much time had passed.
He forced a reassuring smile. “We’ll soon get to meet our son,” he agreed. “Do you feel strong enough to let us get you ready?”
Jon soon returned with the Veritts. Mrs. Veritt inspected Rimon’s preparations and said, “Good job. I’ve never met a man before who knew anything about midwifery.”
In Rimon’s world, no man would leave his wife alone in labor—yet it was obvious Mrs. Veritt expected to take over now, shooing the men outside.
“I must stay beside Kadi to support her field,” he explained. “Zlin her, Mrs. Veritt. She’s very weak.”
The older woman did so, just as another contraction hit Kadi. Mrs. Veritt gasped, almost doubling over, gripping the bedframe to support herself. When it was over, her eyes focused on Rimon. “I have—helped a Gen give birth before, Rimon. I was the oldest girl in our family, so I had to help the midwife when my brothers and sisters were born. But that was before—”
“Before you could sense fields,” said Rimon. “You’ll find Gen pain affects you much more than Sime pain, even low as Kadi’s field is. Willa, you help me. Jon—” He looked around, and had to zlin past the fields around him to find the boy. “Why didn’t he come in?” He went to the open door. “Jon, come in and help Mrs. Veritt.”
“Help deliver a baby?” he asked in shock.
Jord said, “You know how to shield a Sime against pain. Mother can’t do this alone.”
Jon entered the house, but still hung back from the bed.
“Come on,” said Willa. “You stand over here.”
Jon remained where he was. The battle between Willa and Jon for pecking order had amused Rimon up to now; today it only annoyed him.
“Please, Jon,” Kadi said softly, “help Mrs. Veritt. I can’t.”
Still the boy hesitated, a mass of conflicting emotions, his age and upbringing making him vulnerable to embarrassment.
Jord said, “You think Rimon and Kadi are going to feed and clothe you so you can refuse to help when they ask you? You weren’t raised to be a freeloader, Jon.”
At that, Jon squared his shoulders and pulled his emotions under control. He looked over at Abel. “You think it’s right, Mr. Veritt?”
“Yes, Jon, it’s right. You’re the only one who can do it.”
Jon went over to stand beside Mrs. Veritt. “I’ll do my best.”
The day dragged on. Kadi drifted in and out of consciousness, only coming really awake when the contractions hit. By midafternoon they were still fifteen minutes apart, and Kadi’s field was faltering. Her selyn production had lagged behind the baby’s consumption for months; now, for the first time, production itself was slowing from its mad rate.
Willa shielded Rimon well, at the same time gently wiping Kadi’s face after each contraction, making her as comfortable as possible. But as Kadi’s complexion turned ashen, concern grew in Willa, echoing Rimon’s.
They had carefully prepared Willa, explaining that yes, it hurt to have a baby, but the pain was not beyond endurance and well worth the joy of having a child. Nonetheless, even Willa could see there was something wrong.
Trying to zlin Kadi’s dilation, Rimon found himself constantly caught up in her pain—and now came the sharpest yet as she clutched the sheet, gritting her teeth, and then Rimon felt the momentary relief as her water broke.
“That’s a good sign!” said Mrs. Veritt. “Won’t be long now.”
Gasping for breath, Kadi said wryly, “I’ll be glad of that.”
Willa cleaned up the mess, and Rimon was astonished to see Mrs. Veritt feel for the baby with her hands. Fearing infection, he started to tell her to check by zlinning when she said, “Good. He’s in position. Now really work with the contractions, Kadi.”
Kadi was wide awake as the contractions came more quickly, but each time she fell back afterward, gasping for breath. Rimon could see her field fading, and knew that their child would not be born in time. In healing mode, he conjured the specter of need in himself to encourage Kadi’s cells to produce more, and ever more selyn.
But their son—his son—drew selyn inexorably through her nerves, outlining her vitality in a sparkling glow. The periphery faded; all was drawn to the center, the connections lost, as if parts of Kadi were dying, dying of attrition—
“No!” cried Rimon, not realizing he’d shouted aloud, but sensing Jord there, zlinning helplessly.
Rimon let go of all awareness beyond himself and Kadi and the small life struggling to glean enough selyn to live.
He’ll kill her. No! No, my son will not begin his life by killing!
Frantic, Rimon seized Kadi’s limp arms, falling directly into transfer position, searching for any spark of life in her. Peripherally, he felt Jord wrench himself out of intil as Willa’s support suddenly shifted to Jord for a moment, then returned, steady, worried but unexcited. Jon was low-field, thank goodness, for his shivering anxiety was a growing irritant to the other Simes. But all of Rimon’s attention was on a hard, bright core at the center of Kadi’s otherwise black, field.
Suddenly, Rimon was elsewhere—careering trees blurred by, the musty smell of old leaves somehow penetrating him as Zeth died under his tentacles, his system forced to give up selyn. For a moment, Rimon became Zeth, feeling selyn drawn from him.
He jolted to present reality, dizzy, whirling downward toward bottomless dark, pouring forth his life in willing catharsis. The flow was so good that Rimon began to force selyn outwards from his system, faster and faster as within him a chronic, nagging ache dissolved, and for the first time in months he felt free of need. The more selyn he forced away from himself, the better he felt. He kept going even when resistance rose against it—kept forcing and forcing selyn outwards—
PAIN!
He was dashed down to hypoconsciousness, hearing Mrs. Veritt saying, “Once more—push once more, Kadi!”
While at the same time, Jord yelled, “Stop it, Ri—”
As Kadi’s pain relented, Rimon was aware of the searing ache along his arms where Kadi’s fingers had bitten into his flesh just above the sensitive nodes. He was also aware of a distinct change in the ambient nager, but couldn’t place it.
Kadi looked up at him with huge blue eyes, gasping, but conscious.
“You’re alive!” he said.
Before she could speak, another contraction overtook her. “Push, Kadi!” said Mrs. Veritt. “Here comes the head.”
Now, the child was not drawing—it was settling already into a normal child’s pattern, unaffected and unaffecting. The nageric link between mother and child had severed– the baby had to be born quickly now, allowed to breathe air before its blood supply failed.
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