Finally Hank raised tear-drenched eyes once more to Abel’s. “Next month I’ll do it for you, Abel.”
“No, son—not next month. But you will do it, I have confidence—we’ll pray together. I’ve vowed not to die a killer, and every day I see some progress toward keeping that vow.”
Uel Whelan came to kneel before Abel. “If Hank can’t do it, I will, Mr. Veritt. Someone will. It has to happen.”
The three Gens who lived with Rimon were scattered through the chapel, with their families. Eyes shifted to them, but they were silent, motionless—at the first opportunity, Rimon would have to remind people of the lesson of Jon’s death—it was no use to pressure someone who wasn’t ready. His attention, and everyone else’s, was caught by the movement of the other children, gathering around Abel and Hank, slipping between the adults. So few children—the hope for the future. Even Zeth followed the crowd, stopping before Rimon, watching the solemn moment. Zlinning his son, Rimon found that the child understood something—small as he was. And he’d grow up with the repeated dedication to end the kill.
Kadi came up beside Rimon and picked Zeth up. Rimon put his arm around her, feeling a strange new lift—Jord had just passed a crisis.
Looking at Hank and Abel, surrounded by the children, Rimon began to feel that this was indeed what he was born to do—to found a way of life in which people didn’t have to fear to love one another. And Zeth would grow up with it—he’d be Sime, Rimon was sure, but he’d never kill. Not once. To guarantee that, Rimon would give his life– anything—anything at all.
Chapter Twenty-Four
FIRST CHANNEL
As the dreary late winter advanced, Jord and Willa got along much better, making Rimon hope that the birthday party had really been Jord’s crisis. Both Rimon and Jord were kept busy with the usual assortment of late-winter illnesses, but there was no repetition of last year’s epidemic in Slina’s Pens.
At Abel’s insistence, Hank Steers moved in with Rimon —temporarily, he reminded everyone daily. That meant two dogs in the household, too—and often Rimon thought Uel Whelan might as well be a member of the family for all the time he spent there. Kids and dogs everywhere– until the day Zeth decided to “walk the dogs” down the tunnel through Len Deevan’s carefully tended mushrooms.
Then Rimon called a meeting, and, feeling rather like Abel Veritt, laid down the law. To his surprise, no one protested his rules. Nevertheless, he began thinking of expanding the house again, or even building a second house for everyone except Kadi, Zeth, and himself. Hank thought that was silly. “Everyone will be moving back to Fort Freedom, the way Willa did.”
“You may, Hank—but I don’t know about the other Gens.”
It was becoming a problem now. Len had been with them for almost a year, and still he had a skittish fear of real transfer. The other two who had been there for months were also unable to prevent the emotion that could prove a kill-stimulus.
Hank, on the other hand, lost his nervousness after the first time Rimon drew from him. “Is that all?” he asked.
“That’s it. You’re low-field. You can go anywhere you want to for the next few days—within reason. Don’t go into town alone.”
“Kadi does.”
“Kadi,” explained Rimon, “is an exception to every rule ever made. When you can do everything she can, you can use your own judgment about where you go.”
“Oh, all right. But when can I give a real transfer?”
“Six months.”
“Six months! That’s forever!”
“Hank, Abel and I both agree that you’re not to be rushed. You know about Jon Forester—we tried to push him too fast, and the result was tragedy.”
“But Abel wants to stop killing! Rimon, I know I can do it!”
“If you can do it now, you can do it six months from now. How would Abel face himself if you tried before you were ready… and you made him kill you?”
Hank had no answer to that. Nonetheless, he kept pestering to have the date moved ahead. After his third transfer, Rimon felt he was ready, but Abel was adamant: they had set a date, and they would keep it. Rimon thought Abel’s fear for the boy was unfounded. Hank had that same sense of confidence that Willa had.
He noticed, too, that each time he drew from Hank there seemed to be more selyn, just as with Willa; only Kadi’s field outshone them. When Rimon began trying to measure the differences, with no set standard, certain facts about his own physiology began to fall into place. “I use more selyn than other Simes,” he told Kadi. “I thought for a long time that it was just that some of what I took when I killed went into my reservoir, and that left me shorted for the month. But Kadi—not one of these kids can provide enough selyn for me, not even Hank—because there actually is a capacity difference!”
“It’s my fault!” gasped Kadi. “After Zeth was born, that time you let me satisfy myself—you didn’t burst—you stretched!” When Rimon laughed, she said, “All right, it sounds funny, but it isn’t. I did something that increased your capacity for selyn, because ever since you have satisfied me. But Rimon—what will you do when we decide to have another baby?”
“Maybe someone will be up to your capacity by then. Kadi, people’s capacities grow. I’ve become more sensitive since I… stretched, as you put it. So have you. There’s a kind of growth that goes along with the things Jord and I can do—I’ve seen it in him, too, and you certainly had nothing to do with that. But Willa must have—they’ve both increased in capacity. I witnessed their first two transfers– and at the birthday party I zlinned a distinct increase in the selyn flow.”
“Do you think when two people start having transfer they sort of—grow together? Adapt to each other?”
“I’m sure of that. But all the kids have increased their selyn production, even though they’re not giving real transfers yet, I’m onto something, Kadi. The trouble is, I haven’t figured out exactly what it is.”
One thing disturbing Rimon was that he and Jord received all the extra selyn from the Gens in Rimon’s care. They could use it for extra work—but it seemed grossly unfair that two Simes should be using extra selyn while others still had to kill to live.
If only there were a way to transfer the selyn to other Simes. Each time his mind circled back to that thought, however, Rimon shuddered. There was a way, all right; he had experienced it twice, and was now certain it was what had killed his cousin Zeth. No, the Sime system wasn’t meant to work backwards. The only way was to train Gens —and it looked as if there would soon be another success in Hank.
Meanwhile, Rimon used up some of his extra selyn in Fort Freedom’s fields. They could no longer pay him, but he had a debt to work off, and when that was done, he helped out whenever he could. At foaling time, Kadi went back to work for Del; that spring her tax was paid entirely with money she earned herself.
Rimon and Del braved the threat of a late snow to get to the first market of the year, selling horses and mushrooms and the few items Fort Freedom had salvaged. Prices were down; no one had much money after last year except the government, which collected taxes no matter what. They sold a herd of horses to the border guard at a nice profit, and at the same time, filed the first petition to have their section of the Territory declared a county.
Spring planting went well, the crops soon sending up bright shoots in neat rows. There was renewed hope of healing the rift in Fort Freedom. Dan Whelan organized all those dissenters who’d returned, and offered to help Sara Fenell and the other two families still living along the creek with plowing and planting. When the help was accepted, they didn’t push further—but Abel was laying plans, Rimon knew, to try again to bring them home when he could say he himself didn’t kill anymore.
With that hope, Abel was glowing with good spirits. Hank bent Rimon’s rules practically backwards, “living” with Rimon only in the sense that he slept there most nights. As Abel and Hank were deliberately getting into phase, though, Abel did send the boy home when he was in need. U
el Whelan often turned up on those days, and the two boys would go off together, much to the distress of Zeth, who always wanted to tag along.
One morning when Hank had been out with Rimon for two days, the boy was growing restless. “Come on, Rimon —if you won’t let me try transfer this month, take my field down so I can go over to Fort Freedom.”
“Next month, Hank, and that’s why it’s important that I not take your field down until this evening. That’s when Abel has scheduled his kill.”
“But it wouldn’t hurt for me to be ahead of him.”
“No, but he doesn’t want you to see him today—especially not this evening. You can understand that.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Maybe Uel can come out today.”
But Uel didn’t show up, and Abel did, just at midmorning. “Rimon, Uel Whelan’s gone into changeover, and he’s having a bad time of it. Jord says he thinks the problem may be a dual system, like yours.”
“I’m coming,” Rimon said at once. “Kadi!”
“I’ll get the horses,” said Hank, and was off before anyone thought to stop him. He had saddled three horses by the time Rimon and Kadi were ready, and Rimon decided not to protest. Hank was Uel’s best friend, and his presence these days was almost as soothing as Kadi’s.
When they reached the Whelan home, Rimon soon discovered that the problem was not physical complications at all, but Uel’s lack of cooperation. He was in the final stages, tentacles well developed in their sheaths, but he lay still, pale and grim, turning his face away from Jord.
“Zlin him, Rimon,” Jord said when they entered. “It’s completely evident now—two selyn systems.”
Rimon zlinned the boy, looking around at his parents, Jord, and Willa—what had they been saying to him to put him in this state? Rimon sat down on the edge of the bed and said, “Congratulations, Uel. It’s almost over now.”
“I won’t kill! I’ll die first!”
Jord said, “Uel, you want to save lives. Then listen to us. You can learn to heal the way Rimon and I do. That’s the gift God has given you—to heal the sick and injured.”
“What kind of God wants me to save some people by killing others?”
“Uel!” Abel said sharply, his need sapping his patience.
Rimon said, “He’s not responsible for what he’s saying, Abel. lord’s right about the dual system. Zlin his selyn consumption. If we can’t get him to cooperate in breakout, he might succeed in killing himself.”
“Let me try,” said Hank. When he approached the bed, Uel turned toward him, drawn by Hank’s field. “Come on, Uel—you know the exercises. Remember how silly I looked when I first tried them?” He held out his hands, clenching his fists, snapping his fingers open. “I can do them now, though. See?”
“You never required them,” Uel muttered resentfully.
“Sure I did—I require them right now, and I’ve got to teach them to my kids, haven’t I? Come on, Uel, do it with me. You can do it.”
Rimon watched Hank concentrate, felt him actually trying to project the muscular contractions to Uel, who by this time was fighting involuntary spasms. Unconsciously, the other Simes in the room were imitating Hank’s actions. Kadi had been teaching Hank her techniques; obviously, he was an apt pupil.
“Good!” said Hank when Uel moved his hands. “Again now.”
But then the fluid swelled the membranes at Uel’s wrists, the tentacles threatening to break through at any moment. Rimon turned to Jord. “Where’s the Gen?”
“I’ll get her,” Jord replied.
“No—oh—oh!” With an agonized howl, Uel convulsed and the tentacles tore free. Rimon wrapped an arm around Hank’s waist, intending to snatch him out of Uel’s reach, but Uel twisted away to face the wall, curled up with his arms hidden, just the way Rimon himself had rejected all attempts to make him kill after Zeth. But Uel was in First Need. He should be unable to do anything but attack the nearest source of selyn.
Kadi said, “Rimon, can I help him the way I used to help you?”
“I’ll do it,” said Hank.
“You don’t know what to do,” said Kadi.
“I’ll give him transfer. Why should he have to kill, when I’m here?”
Rimon felt the shock surge through Abel, exacerbated by his need. Yet in moments the older man had gained control of himself. “Rimon—can he do it? If Uel should never have to kill…”
“It’s First Need, Abel. And Hank has never given transfer at all.” Give Abel a way out.
Hank protested, “If I can’t save my best friend’s life, what good am I?” He pulled the smaller boy over onto his back.
Rimon started to reach out for Hank again, but Abel put a hand on his shoulder. “Let him try. Think of it, Rimon —the first of our Sime children never to kill at all—with your abilities—with Jord’s.”
Uel remained curled into a tight ball. “Won’t kill,” he murmured as Hank tried to pry his fingers from their painful clamping over his own arms. His tentacles were tightly retracted, even the laterals.
“Use your field,” said Kadi. “You can’t fight Sime strength with Gen muscle.”
Hank concentrated, willing Uel to relax, coaxing softly, “Hey—come on—just let me help—come on now…”
Painfully, Uel focused his eyes. “Hank? Hank—I can’t– do anything for my parents now. You—take care of them —please.”
At that, Mrs. Whelan began to cry against her husband’s shoulder. Rimon realized that if there was any chance of this transfer working, he had to get them out of the room —and Abel, too.
Hank was close to tears. “Don’t be dumb, Uel,” he said gruffly. “You’ll take care of them yourself.”
Uel gave a grim smile. “Don’t put on any act with me, Hank. I’m dying.”
“You wouldn’t let me quit—you wouldn’t hear me talking about going across the border. Well, now you’re quitting, only I’m not going to listen. I’m going to give you transfer.”
Uel’s resistance began to crumble. “I can’t kill you!”
“You’re not going to because I’m not going to let you.”
At that moment, Jord came in with the Gen for Uel. The fields in the room shifted painfully at that reminder, and Rimon said, “Jord, clear the room. Kadi, stay here. Everybody else out.”
“But—” Abel began.
“Especially you, Abel. Don’t put yourself through this—« you could distract them at a critical moment.”
“We’ll go outside and pray,” Abel said firmly, and led the exodus. Rimon zlinned the party through the closed door. He hoped Jord would have the sense to have that Gen ready for Abel. If this transfer worked—or worse, if it didn’t—the repercussions would reach Abel strongly, as deep into need and as bound up in Hank as he was.
Rimon narrowed his concentration to the two boys as Kadi came up and put her hands on his shoulders. Within the insulated room they created an area of calm. Rimon was in healing mode; Kadi was a supportive presence. Hank was tense, but there was no fear in his nager. Uel’s need was increasing more rapidly now, so that despite his efforts, his laterals began to lick out of their sheaths.
“Hank, if I kill you—”
“If I die, you take care of Biggie for me, all right?”
“… all right.”
He took Uel’s arms in transfer position, his friend’s tentacles automatically wrapping about him, the laterals seeking his flesh. But that didn’t frighten Hank—he’d been through it many times with Rimon.
Rimon went completely hyperconscious as Hank bent to press his lips to Uel’s. He’d known it before, with Kadi, had seen it with Willa and Jord, but Hank’s incredulous surprise and delight when the flow brought exquisite pleasure was as exciting as if it were the first time for Rimon, too. And it was different—release from need without the savage wrenching of pleasure out of the brink of agony. Innocence. Uel has never killed—now he never will.
Kadi was clutching at Rimon’s shoulders. Did she perceive somehow that Rimon
had just seen a vision of untainted bliss, that he—and she—would never know? But Zeth will!
Then Hank and Uel were untangling themselves, staring at each other, too young to bear the embarrassment of solemnity. They both broke into giggles. “We did it!” Hank cried.
“Mom! Dad! We did it!” Uel shouted, jumping up, oblivious to the post transients in his body. His secondary system had been involved in the transfer, and Rimon zlinned the wave of dizziness that drove the boy to his knees. Rimon caught him up onto the bed again.
“Easy.” Rimon couldn’t help chuckling. “Give yourself time to get used to being Sime.”
Uel stared at him, and broke into laughter again. “I ami I’m Sime and it doesn’t matter! It really doesn’t matter!”
By this time, Hank had opened the door. Dan Whelan and his wife were already there, followed by Willa, then Jord. The Whelans embraced their son and Hank, both crying unashamedly. Then Dan said, “God has blessed us after all our doubts. Mr. Farris, can you ever forgive me for my accusations?”
“That was all forgotten long ago,” said Rimon. “Anyway, it’s Hank and Uel’s celebration today.” Where was Abel? He was about to ask Jord, when Abel entered, pale– and high-field. So he’d had to take the Gen. Rimon had expected that, and now he recalled that sometime immediately after Hank and Uel had achieved their transfer, he’d felt a faint sensation. Yet it had hardly attracted his attention. The room was not very well insulated, and Abel’s emotions upon being forced to kill at the same moment that Hank was giving his first transfer should have flared through the whole town.
But Abel’s inner strength, bolstered by the physical relief from need, carried him through in his usual fashion. “Hank, you were truly sent to us; and Uel, God has blessed you in a way no Sime has known before. Rimon, Jord—all the rest of us as we learn not to kill—we will always have to live with the fact that we have killed. You’re the first of your kind, as Rimon Farris is the first of his. May God guide you to use His blessings wisely.”
First Channel s-3 Page 35
