“That explains its cryptic remarks, I guess,” Kincaid said ruefully.
Afra paused a moment and then asked “You’re sure there’s nothing Morag and Kaltia can’t handle?”
“Nothing. They’ve been exceedingly well trained,” Laria said, with a bow to her parents.
“They consider the afternoon’s quota of tubes is mere ‘piffle,’ ” Kincaid said with a droll smile.
“And tomorrow’s?” Damia asked, not quite scowling but concerned, knowing the amount of traffic Clarf Tower was handling.
“They can handle whatever we can,” Kincaid said with a shrug. “We’ll return as soon as we’re certain our ’Dinis are in good hands.”
“You’ll get-right back to ... ” Damia began, but Afra, making eye contact with Kincaid, put a restraining hand on his mate’s shoulder.
“Their priorities are correct, Damia,” he said, using a tone and firmness he rarely directed at her. “They have left their Tower well attended, so they’re scarcely derelict in their duties.” He gave her a quick smile, then turned back to Kincaid. “We will ask Lionasha and Vanteer not to reveal who is actually ’porting at Clarf. I doubt Plrgtgl will even know you’re here.”
“Plus saw us leave,” Laria was obliged to admit, seeing now through her mother’s reaction how ill advised their abrupt departure was.
It wasn’t. Kincaid’s hand gripped her thigh firmly. “From what Plrgtgl said, it will be far too busy treating the other ... victims ... to question how Clarf Tower is being handled, so long as it is operational. I can, of course, return immediately, and leave my friends with Laria to deputize for me.”
“Only when they are well enough not to require the reassurance your presence can give them,” Afra said.
Damia was blinking in surprise at Afra’s domination of the interchanges.
“So some idiot decided that freezing ’Dinis would prevent reproduction?” Laria asked scornfully.
“You’d think the last thing a ’Dini would do is emulate a queen,” Kincaid remarked caustically.
Damia did frown. “How do you construe that?”
“Well, the Heinlein queen nearly died from cold before she started hatching eggs for attendants,” Kincaid replied. “Or perhaps you never saw the report I did. When they installed the queen at Heinlein, they provided the same ambient temperature that had been in her escape pod. What they didn’t realize was that that was not the normal Hive temperature: it was low to reduce her activity level by the cold so she’d have the maximum amount of oxygen to take her where she meant to go.”
“So it was plain logic, rather than communication, that Zara acted on that time?” Damia asked.
“She’s always been interested in biology,” Afra said. “She acted on a logical conclusion she didn’t know how to explain at the time. I’m glad to hear what prompted her.”
“But that doesn’t explain why the Mrdini would use cold to reduce creation.”
Afra gave Kincaid a wry look. “Mrdini logic sometimes defeats Human mental processes.”
“It damned near killed our ’Dinis,” Laria said in a savage tone, and added an unreproduceable sound of disgust. “So how is it that Zara happens to be here in Iota Aurigae and able to nurse ’Dinis?”
“She has had metamorphic training,” Damia began, “and Elizara felt that, having grown up with ’Dinis, she was the best available medical personnel. Your grandfather as well as the High Councillors considered her the proper choice ...” Damia paused, emanating a complex blend of pride, anxiety and surprise. “A select, high-powered team of medical personnel and xenbees has been assembled and permitted to enter a hibernatory to see exactly what does happen. Whatever activities ordinarily take place are limited to specially chosen and trained keepers.”
Laria and Kincaid exchanged respectful glances. “Well, good for Zara,” said her proud sister. “So she ... or someone else here on Iota ... really can restore ours?”
“I’d rest easy on that score, my dear,” Afra said. Then he rose suddenly and strode from the room.
“What’s...” Laria began.
“I believe your father is aware that Vagrian is awake,” Damia said.
“Oh, him! I completely forgot you took him on.”
“It may be early, but perhaps we could do stables. I’d find it soothing work,” Kincaid said, rising.
“I’ll help.”
“Now just a moment, Laria,” her mother began.
“With all deference, Damia, we’ll do stables,” Kincaid said, taking Laria’s hand in his, and they ’ported out of the room—the height of bad manners for Talents and especially in front of Damia Raven-Lyon.
How dare ...
Enough, Damia, Afra said, so bluntly that Damia was silent.
Though they were safely out of the house, Kincaid and Laria winced, waiting for Damia’s reaction to such a dictate.
“Better we were rude just to Mother,” Laria murmured as she and Kincaid strode quickly up to the stables. “I’d’ve been a lot ruder in his presence. I wonder how Zara copes with him.”
“I suspect she’s not around often enough right now for that to be a problem,” Kincaid said. “Imagine that! She’s allowed in a hibernatory! That’s another first for the formidable Lyon’s Pride.”
“‘Lyon’s Pride?’” Laria stopped and stared at him.
“Well, you are, you know, and it’s meant as a compliment by all I’ve heard use the term,” he said in a placatory tone.
“Lyon’s Pride, huh?” Laria savored the label and then chuckled. “Does Dad know?”
“I shouldn’t wonder,” Kincaid replied.
“Hope Mother doesn’t. She’s rather partial to being a Gwyn-Raven.”
“So she should be.” Kincaid slid apart the stable doors and grinned as the inmates whickered joyfully at such an early arrival of those-who-fed. There was additional noise as resting horses rose to all four legs and their shod hooves scraped against plascrete floors.
In the first right-hand stable, Saki nickered more urgently, stamping her feet in welcome to a well-known voice, demanding her breakfast nuggets.
“The morning feeds are usually made up the night before,” Laria said, pausing to let her favorite horse sniff, then lick her palm. “The middle door.”
“I remember ... and so they are.”
Saki pushed at Laria, obviously urging her to speed her breakfast to her, so Laria trotted down to the feed room and helped Kincaid load the trolley. “We have to start with Saki or she’ll damage her knees kicking the door if anyone else’s fed first.”
“Shamelessly spoiled...”
“Knows she’s the alpha mare.”
“Will they mind a Lyon-Dano in the Pride?” Kincaid asked, pulling out the feed dish of the brown gelding opposite Saki, who seemed to be inhaling her pellets.
“I told you. I don’t want you bound officially,” Laria said, moving down the aisle to the next horse.
“Our child will have two parents and that’s not negotiable, Laria Gwyn-Raven-Lyon-Dano,” Kincaid said, in almost the same adamant tone Afra had used to Damia.
“Like that, are you?” Laria grinned, rather pleased at his attitude, as she dumped yet another breakfast into a manger.
“Unless your parents kick up a stink ...”
They happened to be facing each other over the feed flat.
“I doubt that, Kincaid Dano.” She not only made eye contact with him but opened her mind, letting him see her high regard for the person he had struggled to become despite a miserable childhood. “Since they already respect you. As well as,” she added in a blithe tone, “quite likely admire you for putting up with their eldest daughter. Now, let’s finish feeding.”
The activity of feeding, haying and straightening stable sheets had a soothing effect on them both, considering the multiple shocks of the day.
“Isn’t this the fellow I rode the last time I was here?” Kincaid asked, stepping back to get a proper look at the animal he was tending.
“He is,” Laria said, getting a stable stain from Saki’s flank, “and he seems to remember you fondly enough not to race you around the box.”
Afra appeared in the wide stable opening. “Beliakin’s presence has been requested at Blundell House for the next few days, in connection with Clarissia Negeva’s attempt to recruit him,” Afra said. “He had the good sense to tell Gollee immediately before he left Blundell. They knew she had, of course, but his coming forward acquits him.”
“He‘d’ve had significant assets to lose,” Laria said blandly, “but I’m glad I don’t have to dodge him.” She gave her father a quick glance to see if she could ’path the real reason Beliakin was now elsewhere.
Afra chuckled, but she could read nothing beyond what he wished her to know. “That young man could see far too many excellent possibilities in the immediate future to jeopardize them. He told us exactly what he recalled of her remarks immediately after that abortive assassination attempt. He was shocked enough when we heard to be wide open to us. He is a strong T-2 kinetic and once he has cleared himself with Gollee and Jeff, he’s liable to be assigned either to a Search vessel or with a T-2 ’path for one of the new Towers that have to be set up.”
Laria eyed her father with skepticism and he grinned back, his yellow eyes twinkling.
“Of course, with you and Kincaid here, we could allow him the chance to clear his reputation at Blundell. So this will be no holiday for you, though I could wish it were. You are more tired than you should be, Laria,” Afra said, and in an unusual display of affection, stroked her head. His hand stopped and his brows wrinkled in surprise. “And ...” His expression was puzzled.
Kincaid instantly stepped to her side. “Laria carries my child, Afra Lyon.”
Afra nodded briefly. “The pregnancy is very recent then, for I could barely detect the physical changes.” He held out his hand to Kincaid. Kincaid did not shield the relief he felt at the quickly proffered hand, taking the gesture as the approval it was meant to reinforce. “I will have to admit,” Afra continued with a warm grin, “that I am relieved that you have sired the child, Dano, rather than Vanteer or Beliakin.”
“Beliakin never got near enough to touch me,” Laria said, affronted by the mere thought.
And too recent to guess its sex! came Damia’s interjection.
And what if it isn’t Talented, Mother? Laria asked coyly.
Don’t be ridiculous, Damia said dismissively. Dano’s genes checked out with a very high potential of passing on psychic abilities.
Mother, that’s ... Laria felt a surge of anger.
Let be, Laria, Afra said in quick reprimand. We’ve known that much data since Kincaid was assigned to Clarf Tower.
Then you know what I—Kincaid began, when a quick cutting motion of Afra’s hand interrupted him.
That is between you and Laria! Afra said so firmly that his answer dismissed further consideration of the topic. Am I not correct, Damia?
You are, was the immediate agreement.
“It may be morning here, but it was late afternoon on Clarf, as memory serves me,” Afra went on. “The horses are tended. You both need to rest. You may have to just settle for breakfast instead of whatever meal you have missed in your haste to get your ’Dinis here. But you are both tired and anxious. I’d say you’d benefit from a relaxing swim. And some rest.”
Laria swiveled in the direction of the Tower.
“We can handle what’s due in or out. We’ll wake you the moment there’s any news about your ’Dinis,” Afra said.
Zara says they’re already responding to the medicated bath. They absorb quite a lot of nutrients through the skin pores, you know, said Damia.
“Where are Ewain and Petra?” Laria asked as they followed Afra back to an oddly silent house.
“School, of course,” Afra said. He bent to kiss his daughter’s cheek. “Damia sent them. They don’t know you’re here yet and we’ll keep them out of your hair until you’ve had a chance to rest.”
Then, with a hand on each to shove them in the direction of the pool, he left them.
nine
Zara’s here, said Damia gently, waking them. Your ’Dinis are improving rapidly, she added when she sensed their immediate alarm. Come down.
“What time is it?” Kincaid asked, then yawned widely enough to pop his jaw hinge, stretching his long body.
“Late afternoon, Iota time,” Laria said, struggling to lift herself on one elbow to glance out her window and check the way the shadows fell on the hillside. Odd to be waking in her own bed, with Kincaid beside her. Odd, but nice.
“I feel like I’ve slept the clock round.” He sat up, rubbing a lean and empty belly.
You did, said Zara.
Both shot to their feet, grabbing for clothes they had dumped in a chair after their relaxing swim. Someone must have removed the damp towels which Laria vaguely remembered dropping on the floor on her way to the bed.
You needed it, Zara went on.
Morag and Kaltia? Are they all right? Laria said, hopping on one foot, trying to get the other foot into the trouser leg.
Take it easy. There was a touch of amusement in Zara’s voice. You can bet your bones you’d’ve been awakened sooner if there’d been a need. Dad says they’re doing just great. Blood will tell.
So what’s with Tip and Huf...
And Nil and Plus... Kincaid put in, with such matching anxiety that Zara’s chuckle echoed in both their heads.
When you get down here.
There’re drinks and things ready, Damia added.
Speedily dressing, the two lingered only long enough to visit the bathroom and wash hands and faces before they went downstairs. Laria led the way into the room Kincaid remembered from his previous stay, where a circle of comfortable couches ringed a fireplace. Flames danced on the hearth and they were glad of the warmth by then, more accustomed to Clarf’s heat and not the crisp colder temperature at which this house was generally kept.
Zara was already ensconced on one couch, nibbling a long thin cheese stick. She pointed to the drinks set opposite her and the variety of predinner snacks. “Don’t eat too much. Mother’s got a good dinner to make up for the meals you’ve missed.”
“Tip and Huf?” Laria asked, brooking no further delays.
“And my two?” Kincaid added, but they both sat at Zara’s gesture.
“What I have to tell you is highly confidential. Dad’s out hunting with Ewain, and Petra and Mother have promised not to listen.”
Laria regarded Zara with surprise and a touch of trepidation. She sounded more like her grandmother than her kid sister.
“As head of a team trying to penetrate the mysteries of Mrdini reproduction, I must also be as discreet as possible in my explanations. But to my way of thinking, you’re owed. Your ’Dinis ought not to have been in that hibernatory. And the keeper should have had the sense left to tell you to take them anywhere else.”
“That’s where they usually go,” Laria exclaimed.
“So what happened there?” Kincaid asked.
“A damned fool experiment that any zoobio would have quashed instantly had we known it was planned,” Zara said, biting off the last of her cheese stick as if it were something else. She let out a sigh. Then resettling herself, she turned to Laria and Kincaid and began.
“We’re still not sure what happens or why certain pairs choose each other, or are put together by the keeper for the express purpose of ... creating a new ’Dini life-form ... but Tip would not necessarily be matched with Huf nor Plus with Nil in a hibernatory. Colors are always paired. As we’ve discovered, Human bodies replicate every single cell over a seven-year period. Mrdini”—Zara gave a wry smile—“do it in two months. From what we’ve been able to discern, dead cells in a ’Dini give off an unhealthy chemical ...”
Laria and Kincaid exchanged startled glances, remembering that their ’Dinis had been smelling a little stronger than usual.
“Hmm ... the fools were probably de
laying as long as they could then. However, the dead cells give off a pheromone of which one hundred—let’s call them units to give us a scale—is the top. At a concentration of eighty units, they start getting irritable and try to get to the hibernatory to relieve their discomfort. Most ’Dinis wait too long to come to the hibernatory. But I have discovered that those who come early, say when the chemical is at seventy-five units, are less likely to reproduce. If the concentration got over the hundred mark, they’d probably die, but we haven’t confirmed that. You see, what substitutes for hormones or glandular activity or cell renewal and differentiation in their particular physiology, works mainly to rejuvenate them cell by cell. From the extra ’material’ ”—and Zara shrugged, spreading her hands to indicate she couldn’t find a more appropriate word—“generated by this extraordinary osmotic process, a new ’Dini is created—between them, but not in or from them ... between them. The new life could be considered a clone, but not as we understand or use that process: they are created, budded, what have you from the brand-new rejuvenated material of the process the ’Dinis called ‘refreshment’—which is actually quite accurate—and they are a mix of the two Mrdini between whom they are made.
“They gorge themselves with a high-protein, high-mineral complex-carbohydrate substance, the recipe for which is known only to the keepers. We’ve been trying to analyze it, but there are some elements ... Never mind, I digress.” Zara flapped her hand in self-reprimand. “And the air in a hibernatory is not only hot but humid, with a special blend of pheromones. The best analogy is the sort of dream state created by some chemicals ... again a formula zealously guarded by the keepers. I don’t know if the pheromones could be altered to provide contraception. Or if the earlier hibernation will do the trick. Frankly, I think our solution is to find out which of the chemicals used can be left out and not trigger the clone/bud to develop. A sort of abortion, if you will, except that it’s not taking anything as yet ‘live.’ I wouldn’t like to think how many eggs we females produce that never get fertilized.” She shot a grin at Kincaid. “But that would be an appropriate analog. The bad news is that there are some nineteen different components used in the hibernatory incense. The really bad news is that there are no ’Dini-type experimental animals on which we could try any solution before using it on real live ’Dinis.” Zara heaved a big sigh, but that didn’t fool her sister. The ethics of direct experimentation on a life-form they considered their equals would have been anathema to any dedicated medical person. “Then too, the recipe is so old that the keepers don’t remember exactly what the basic elements are, only how to mix and burn it at a steady rate of emissions. So, we’ve set up nineteen different wards, you might call ’em, in Iota’s hibernatory, and thank all the gods that be that it’s such a new facility and we can separate the wards completely. In each ward a different chemical will be omitted, while the rest of the hibernators get the usual incense. When we’ve figured that out, we can decide what chemical to eliminate. One just can’t stop all ‘creation’ without some notice being taken of it in the general ’Dini population.” She grinned. “It’s going to take time. But we will succeed.”
The Tower and the Hive Page 22
