She stayed close to him for the next two days. Willa relinquished without protest the place she had become accustomed to. Nonetheless, Rimon became gradually more nervous than he had been in months. Early on the third day, before anyone else woke, he went out to work off tension by chopping wood. It helped, as always. And in the evening, he knew, they’d have their privacy, for the first thing Rimon had done after Zeth was born was to build another room onto their little house, so they now had their own bedroom.
Over morning tea, he looked into Kadi’s eyes and said, “I’m glad we’ll have only Gens and a child out here. It’s convenient not to have to insulate for privacy, as you do in a Sime household.”
“What happens when our kids change over?” she teased.
“By then,” Rimon said brightly, “we’ll have a bigger house!”
Willa and Jon were stirring now. Jon went outside—to milk the goat, Rimon assumed—and Willa began to prepare breakfast. Zeth started to cry. Kadi laid him on Willa’s bed to change him. Rimon sat at the table, staring into his half-empty cup. A sudden shock brought him to his feet. “Yeee! Jon! What the bloodyshen do you think you’re doing?”
Kadi, carrying Zeth, followed Rimon to the door. Jon turned to stare at them in astonishment, a small trickle of blood running down his chin.
He had set a small mirror on a stump, and was attempting to shave. Obviously, he had just cut himself. “I’m shaving.”
“You have no more beard than Willa does!” said Rimon.
His dignity injured, Jon said, “I do so! And besides, how am I going to learn if I don’t practice before it gets heavy?”
“Well, practice tomorrow! Don’t do things like that when I’m at my most sensitive!”
Jon was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, Rimon. Sure, I’ll wait until tomorrow.”
As they went back inside, Rimon said, “I guess that proves he’s not afraid of me, even when I’m in need.” He managed a wry chuckle. “What was I saying about the convenience of living in a house full of Gens?”
Early that evening, Kadi fed Zeth and left him in Willa’s care. Then she and Rimon retired to their room. After all the months of denial, both of them were slightly shy—and yet he sensed Kadi’s yearning to give him transfer. Rimon assured her she wasn’t fertile now, so they could do as they pleased.
They undressed and got into bed. Rimon drew Kadi close, eyes closed, tension in his body. “After all those months—I thought I’d never survive it—and now you’re here again—”
“You know I am,” she said. “Every month from now on.”
“Until I get you pregnant again,” he said bitterly.
“We’ll worry about that when the time comes.” She pushed back his unruly black hair, kissed his forehead. “Relax, Rimon. You don’t have to hold back anymore. Everything’s perfect.”
She let her own delighted anticipation flow to him. They lay thus as Rimon’s tensions slowly drained away. Then he caressed her arms, his laterals teasing her with anticipation before they finally settled into place, and he drew her into lip contact.
A heavenly relief filled Rimon as selyn flowed from Kadi’s nerves, tingling through every portion of his being, Kadi’s satisfaction growing as Rimon’s draw increased, peaked, and slowed. But Kadi wasn’t ready—she clung to him, wanting more. He could feel her need to give more, but he could take no more, felt himself sinking into hypoconsciousness, leaving her hovering on the brink of completion.
“What happened?” she asked. “Oh, Rimon, have you grown so used to unsatisfactory transfers that you’re holding back with me?”
“No,” he whispered. “Kadi, I—That was—Oh, Kadi, that was the best ever, for me. But—you—” He paused to zlin her, with an effort. Then he said, “You’re still almost high-field—well, not relative to me, now, but you have more selyn. Kadi, I’m sorry.” She was forcing back tears, the first since Zeth was born. “You’re feeling a little like I felt after Willa or Jon. Let me try to help—”
He took her into transfer position again. As he sought to ease her discomfort, he found the knack. Her grief faded. “Better?”
She looked up as he retracted his tentacles. “You did that?”
He nodded. “I just—I don’t know what I did, but I found a way to take that extra selyn. Now you feel better, and so do I.”
“But you controlled me! Rimon—oh, Rimon, I’m sorry for all those times I controlled you. I didn’t know how it felt!”
But he was in the full grip of post syndrome while she remained essentially unmoved. Curbing impatience, he leaned back to talk to her. “Don’t worry about it. We were just off phase from one another. Today puts us back in phase, and next month it will be right for both of us again.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “We have to get used to each other again.”
“That’s right.” He kissed her gently, and as he began to caress her tenderly, in all the ways experience had taught him, she slowly began to respond. But there was no trace of the urgency they had always known after a transfer before. Rather there was the gentler sensation that usually characterized their lovemaking a few days after transfer. Had that urgency been abnormal—was this the way it ought to be?
Rimon couldn’t spend much time pondering the fact that he hadn’t satisfied Kadi in transfer. Everyone’s immediate concern now was Willa. Only the girl herself was unconcerned, talking of her upcoming transfer with Jord with happy anticipation. Jord, on the other hand, was as nervous and edgy as Rimon had ever seen him.
When the day came, Rimon, Kadi, and Willa assembled at the Veritt home. Jon went to visit his parents, who were also caring for Zeth today, but Rimon knew that every mind in Fort Freedom was on that one neat house in the center of the community.
They took every precaution. Abel and Margid Veritt had adjusted their own schedules the past three months so they were pre-turnover when Jord was in need. Rimon was less than a week into his cycle, at his steadiest.
As Rimon took up his position behind Jord, Kadi at his side, he couldn’t help remembering Del and Billy. But Billy was afraid, he reminded himself. Willa isn’t.
The plan was simple enough: both Rimon and Abel would be zlinning the transfer. Should Willa feel the slightest pain, Rimon was to grab Jord and Abel Willa, and pull them apart. Rimon and Kadi would then do whatever they could for Jord, who had insisted Willa’s safety must come first.
As the moment arrived, Jord’s nager was troubled, haunted, Rimon knew, by echoes of a series of unsuccessful attempts at what he was trying again today. With an extreme effort, Jord went into healing mode, but need threatened to kick him over into killmode at any moment.
Rimon entered healing mode too, supporting Jord. There was a now-or-never desperation in Jord’s field as he held out his hands to Willa. She grasped his arms and pressed her lips to his almost before his laterals had seated themselves against her flesh.
The flow began at once, pleasantly, but too slowly—the same frustration Rimon had endured for months on end during Kadi’s pregnancy. But it is endurable! he willed to Jord.
Grimly, Jord held steady, slowly meeting physiological necessity while he fought the urge to increase his draw speed. Willa was steady, just as she had been every time for Rimon.
Nonetheless, frustration was weakening Jord’s control, and long before he reached physical satisfaction, without warning, something flipped inside-out. The draw leaped instantly to the speed of the kill.
Even as Rimon was reaching for Jord in the agonized fear that he was already too late, he felt Willa’s response:, delighted surprise and intense pleasure.
The girl reacted as Kadi did, cooperating, pouring forth her life-force as fast as Jord could take it, pure joy springing through her as she gave and gave.
When it ended, Rimon was plunged with Jord into hypoconsciousness. Willa was staring up at Jord, looking utterly beautiful. His tentacles had withdrawn, and his fingers were lax on her arms. When Rimon moved from behind him, he saw that Jord’s eyes we
re closed, as if he feared what he would see. He glowed with selyn.
“Jord,” said Willa in awe. “You do that better than Rimon!”
“God be praised!” he whispered. Then, as the fact that she was truly alive and well sank in, he caught her into his arms, his tears falling into her hair.
Abel Veritt, too, was crying openly, as was Mrs. Veritt. They both embraced their son as Abel said, “At last! Oh, thank God, thank God!” Then even he was speechless.
Rimon was prickling with the reaction after the fact. He put an arm around Kadi. “We did it!” he said numbly. “We actually taught someone else!”
Abel Veritt turned to Rimon. “My faith has been rewarded, despite my errors. Jord,” he turned back to his son, “God has blessed you.”
“Father,” said Jord, “I didn’t do it! I lost control, and– it was just like every other time—except for Willa.”
“It was the way I started,” Rimon said. “I had no control at first. It was all in Kadi’s hands. It still is, except that now I know I can control, if necessary.”
“Willa,” Abel said reverently.
“I said I would teach Jord.” Her nager was as innocent as ever. “I kept my promise.”
“You certainly did!” agreed Abel. “Jord, Rimon, we must talk about your experiences later, decide how to proceed from here—but now we must let everyone know that their prayers have been answered!”
When they were on the green, Abel rang the bell with sweeping strokes that gave it an oddly festive sound. People poured from their homes. When they saw Jord and Willa together, both alive, tears and laughter mingled, and families embraced each other—particularly parents hugging their Sime children, reaffirming the knowledge that they were not cursed.
Then everyone went to the chapel to give thanks. Abel ended with a prayer for guidance in teaching everyone. Then he went to the lectern and stood looking out over the congregation.
“I have watched the hard, painful effort both Rimon Farris and my son have put into learning not to kill. I have witnessed the devastation wrought by their failures—failures with nameless Gens from the Pens, not close friends or family. Yes, I know, you don’t wish to hear this—but for that very reason I must say it, and you must listen. There will be no unsupervised experiments. At the present time, only one person is qualified to supervise, and that is Rimon Farris. Jord?”
“I agree absolutely, Father. Today’s success was much more Willa’s doing than mine. I have a great deal to learn before I can teach others.”
“Therefore,” continued Abel, “no one will attempt transfer unless Rimon judges that both parties are ready. Especially the Gen. And that,” he paused, looking over to where the Forester family sat, “means you, Jon Forester. When Rimon says and with whom Rimon says. You understand?”
“Yes, Mr. Veritt,” Jon said clearly.
To himself, Rimon thought, when Jon wants it as badly as Willa did, not before. No wonder Jon felt like a fat-rabbit surrounded by hungry foxes. No one in Fort Freedom would think of taking Jon against his will, or against Abel’s proscription—but a Sime in need didn’t think at all.
Abel was speaking to the whole congregation again. “In the months ahead, each time a child establishes as a Gen, he and his family must decide whether he will stay here or cross the border to safety. For we must all remember that there is danger here for such children—and we are that danger.
“Until each and every one of us learns not to kill, we must avoid temptation. You know the way; we have practiced it at Farewells for years. A Gen in our midst is to be surrounded by those who are high-field. Anyone approaching need must keep away. Is that agreed?”
“Agreed.” It was a reluctant murmur.
Surveying the congregation nagerically, Abel continued. “That had to be said, and I zlin that you all understand. But this is a day of celebration, when we all renew our vows to seek the road away from the kill. God has set my son’s feet on that path, and I vow again to follow. Let us rejoice in this day’s miracle, and in the hope it brings for all the days ahead!”
As they left the chapel, Rimon and Kadi found Del and Carlana at the back.
“Another miracle!” said Carlana, gazing at Willa and Jord.
“It’s a fact we must adjust to,” said Rimon to the Sime woman. “Killing can be a matter of choice.”
Abel joined them, saying, “Everyone wants to congratulate lord and Willa. It’s their day. Why don’t you all come over to our house? Rimon, we must make some plans.”
As they walked, Del said, “I wouldn’t let Carlana come here today when I heard what you planned to do with Willa. But when we heard the bell—”
“You came, the way you did that time to see if I’d killed Kadi. You are a true friend, Del.”
“Yes,” said Abel. “You’ll learn quickly—you’re sensitive—”
“No,” said Del, “that’s just it—I’m not sensitive. Rimon always could zlin further than I could. When I’m observing, I don’t know what Rimon and Jord are talking about half the time, fields within fields. Maybe it takes that kind of supersensitivity to learn not to kill.”
They settled around the Veritts’ table, Mrs. Veritt soon producing tea and little biscuits. While Kadi ate, Abel toyed with his tea and shook his head. “No, God would not condemn some Simes to the kill and not others, so it can’t be mere sensitivity. But perhaps sensitivity allowed Rimon and Jord to learn without a teacher.”
Carlana gave a plate of biscuits to Owen and Jana and shooed them off to play. Abel was still thinking. “We must put our heads together, go over every piece of information we have—everything Rimon has ever done, or Kadi, or Willa. And the failures—yes, we must never make the same mistakes again.”
“Abel,” said Kadi, “it seems clear to me that we must teach Gens not to fear. That’s Willa’s secret, and mine.”
“But how do we teach that?” asked Abel. “Why did Willa learn so easily, while Jon is still uncertain?”
“Jon knows too much,” said Rimon. “Willa had been giving me transfer for months before she found out Simes kill Gens. Jon—in the past year, that boy has had to go through drastic adjustments in his thinking, and he doesn’t have that tremendously increased learning capacity and adaptability of the first-year Sime.”
Kadi made a rude noise, her whole nager shining with derision. When Rimon looked at her, suitably shocked, he found her blue eyes laughing at him. “The fact is that I adjusted, and Willa adjusted—but Willa had no previous beliefs to conflict with what we taught her, while my adjustments were all positive.”
“I don’t understand,” said Abel.
“I grew up knowing Gens were cowardly animals. With Rimon’s help, I learned I’m the same person I was before I established. But Jon grew up knowing Gens were the real people, better than Simes. And then just when he turns into a Gen, you go and change the rules on him. And Willa shows him Pen-grown Gens are people, too, and he’s no better than she is. Is it any wonder the poor boy is confused and scared?”
Abel pondered that a moment. “You’re right, of course. I shall counsel with Jon and his parents. We must all help him to adjust before—”
“Before someone convinces him he’s being selfish,” said Rimon. “Watch out for Jon’s pride, Abel. He feels he should be able to do anything Willa can! I’m glad you made the point before the whole town that there are to be no private experiments.”
“You felt how everyone gravitated toward Jon. I’ll admit, it crossed my mind, too—but I’ve seen him break under pressure. No, next month Willa can teach someone else, and—”
“No, Abel,” said Rimon, “you mustn’t take her away from Jord.”
“But—how are others to learn? Jord already knows the healing mode. Next month he—”
“He would lose control and kill again. Give Jord a chance to build up his health and his confidence.”
“His health?”
“He hasn’t had a satisfactory kill since Willa spoke her first word. No o
ne in Fort Freedom has.”
Abel stared at his steepled fingers. “It’s longer than that,” he said. “I don’t think Jord has ever had a satisfactory kill. I’ve never seen Jord so—at peace with himself as he is now. You’re right. We can’t take that from him yet.”
“What are you going to do about them?” Del gestured. “Out there? Everybody in town will think up some reason he should be the one to have Willa next month.”
“I can give you a good reason to hold them off for two or three months,” said Rimon. “It took me that long before I even learned healing mode.”
“Jord knows that already. No one else can,perceive it, let alone imitate it.”
“Have you tried every Sime at Fort Freedom?”
“No—but now everyone, men and women, must attempt it. We must do something to show progress, and healing mode is important. Rimon, did you not take transfer from Willa in healing mode, every time?”
“That’s right,” he said.
“But Jord couldn’t hold it today—he broke at the same point he has broken each time. At that point, the Gen feels pain and then fear—and is killed.”
Del said, “Terror seems to be the natural state of the Gen. From a Sime point of view, that is,” he added, glancing at Kadi. “I haven’t been able to keep a Gen from becoming scared, no matter how drugged they are, no matter how careful I am. Even—Billy, who knew better, panicked —and I’m sure it’s the sensation of selyn movement that causes the panic and—the kill.”
Carlana looked from Kadi to Rimon. “Abel, they love each other. That’s important—Willa likes Jord, and she likes to make Simes feel good, as she puts it.”
“Good will,” Abel said, “or even love, isn’t enough. Vee couldn’t do it. Rimon could—he slowed his draw. And, come to think of it, I’ve zlinned him doing it, and I don’t know how he does it.”
“The Gen has to know enough not to be afraid,” said Kadi. “But the Sime has to care enough to force himself to go as slowly as necessary. It takes two to make a transfer.”
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