razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

  “Liegena, the responsibility was mine,” said Rulla quietly. “I was given the task of looking after her and her Leska. Being male, I’m afraid I spent more of my efforts on Zhyaf, assuming, wrongly it now seems, that Mara, being about the same age as yourself, would take to our ways as you did.”

  “She could have gone to Jack,” Kusac said. “He’s Human.” He flinched under his mate’s withering glance.

  “He’s old enough to be her grandfather! And she’s a good few years younger than me, I’ll have you know! What she needs is a Human den mother, preferably one with children of her own so she doesn’t feel like she’s being watched.”

  They were approaching the village now, and Kusac used that to turn his attention away from what was becoming an embarrassing discussion.

  Rulla was left to answer her. “My apologies, Liegena,” he said, his ears flat against his skull. “It’s not easy to judge Human age. You’re so small in comparison to an adult Sholan…” He faltered to a stop under her glare.

  “I think you’d better take a hot shower and get yourself warmed up when you get back to your rooms,” she said. “You can report to me later. I’ll have this matter sorted out by then.”

  “Yes, Liegena,” he said with a sigh.

  *

  Thankfully the fall hadn’t affected Mara’s pregnancy, and beyond scrapes and bruising, the girl hadn’t been seriously injured, but it would be several days before she could be released from the medical unit. Jack was sending to Valsgarth Telepath Guild for a Human psychiatrist to visit her. She wasn’t the first Human to have problems integrating into the Sholan community, and likely wouldn’t be the last. Zhyaf was suffering from shock and was being kept in overnight for observation, but no problems were expected from him.

  Kusac escaped to his office as soon as he could to search the Human telepath database for a suitable den mother for Mara, one who wouldn’t object to coming to live on the estate.

  “I want one without a mate,” Carrie warned him. “I want as little as possible to remind Mara of males.”

  He didn’t want to know her reasoning right now; he just wanted to get out of the line of fire.

  *

  Carrie, accompanied by Dzaka, headed off for Zhyaf and Mara’s home. She stood in the entrance hall and looked round at the emptiness in disbelief. A rug of somber pattern, obviously well darned, lay across the length of the paneled floor. “It’s as if he’s made no effort to personalize the place.”

  Dzaka activated the lights as it was growing dark outside. “Zhyaf’s family is from the northern end of the continent,” he said. “We, in the south, are a much more relaxed people.”

  She looked up at him with a grin. “We in the south is it now, Dzaka? Do I detect a degree of proprietariness in your adoption of the estate?”

  He smiled back, lifting his shoulders gently in a shrug. “Life has regained pleasures I thought I’d lost, Liegena. I belong here now.” He turned his attention to the door opposite. “That will be their lounge. The ones on either side will be their bedrooms.”

  “I only want to see the public areas,” she said, following him.

  The lounge was as dark as the hallway had been. A ubiquitous desk, large and ungainly, squatted in a far corner. It was obviously made of some cheap synthetic material that added neither grace nor function to its appearance. With its untidy clutter of papers and files, it dominated the room.

  Seating was handled by three chairs set with their backs to the door. The word easy could hardly be applied to them, Carrie thought as she walked slowly into the room. They were thinly padded and with only the barest suggestion of a dip in the center. Aligned in a neat row, they faced a long, low table. Shelving lined the opposite wall, the shelves a riot of cassettes laid on their sides or slumped against each other. To her left, a fire glowed feebly in the grate, obviously relying on the heating system to provide the warmth for the room.

  Carrie shivered and pulled her cloak tighter. Through the window opposite she could see snow had begun to fall once more. “Is it me, or is it cold in here?”

  “It could be warmer,” admitted Dzaka, going across to pull the drapes. Once they’d been more brightly colored, but like everything else she’d seen so far, there was an air of age and mustiness about them. “Zhyaf isn’t one to pay much attention to his surroundings,” he said, returning to her side. “Northerners are an abstemious lot, don’t like unnecessary waste, tend to fight the cold with more clothing rather than more heat. They’re cut off from the rest of us for most of the winter. In the days before air transport, they had to make do till the thaws came.”

  “Yes, but just the same! It isn’t like that now, and I know he’s earning enough to have furnished the house far better than this!”

  “It’s probably the furniture from his last home. Zhyaf’s more of a scholar than anything. At times he hardly seems to live in the same world as the rest of us.”

  “Poor Mara,” said Carrie. “To have a Leska so unsuited to her personality. T’Chebbi told me that when they escorted her from Chagda, she immediately said she’d like to join the Brotherhood. Has she had any outlets that could bring her pleasure?”

  Dzaka avoided looking at her. “Beyond chasing after any of the more presentable young males on the estate? Probably not. I know she’s not been to any training sessions, and only visited Ghyan occasionally at the shrine for instruction.”

  “Is that all?” Carrie was aghast. “What’s she done with her time?”

  “Well, she’s been over at the dig, but she’s been incapable of settling to one area for any length of time, so no one’s been able to rely on her. Rulla should know more about that since they were in his charge.”

  “He said he spent most of his time with Zhyaf. What about the Humans? Hasn’t she made friends among them?”

  “No, she’s been told to stay away from them by their leader, Ms. Southgate.”

  “What about off-duty time? There’s the canteen up at the dig.”

  He shook his head. “Not there either, nor at their accommodation.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” She was furious now. “Mara’s been abandoned by everyone here! No one has looked out for her at all! If only you’d not all been so afraid for me, this might never have happened! No wonder she tried to take her life— she has no life here!”

  “Her life is my brother,” came the cold reply from behind her. There was an underlying growl of anger present. “How dare you enter his house without permission?”

  “Khartu Rakula, may I present the Liegena Clan Leader, Carrie Aldatan?” said Dzaka, stepping smoothly between Carrie and Zhyaf’s sister. “We’re here to collect some of Mara’s belongings.”

  “Clan Leader.”

  The tone was no warmer, Carrie noticed, as the female turned and headed toward one of the doors in the hallway.

  “That’s his sister?”

  “Yes.” Dzaka’s whisper was as quiet as hers had been.

  “We’ve got to get her out of here!”

  Dzaka touched her briefly on the arm. “We should return to the hall now.”

  She followed him back out of the room and stood waiting impatiently. Khartu returned in a few minutes carrying a small bag which she handed to Dzaka.

  “I hope you will be doing something permanent to that female. It’s utterly preposterous that my brother’s life should depend on someone who is obviously as unbalanced as she is. If you won’t, then I’ll appeal to the Guild.”

  Carrie looked up at this tall figure of Sholan righteousness and wished for the millionth time she had a body as readily able to convey her feelings as the Sholans. Instead she allowed some of what she felt to leak beyond her barriers and watched Khartu’s eyes widen as she stepped back in shock.

  “Tell me, Khartu, have you attended an orientation session at the shrine since you arrived?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “On this estate, we do things somewhat differently. All newcomers need to be told what our rul
es and regulations are. They have to fit into our community.” She waited a moment to let this sink in. “We do not conform to outsiders’ ideas. How Mara will be treated is a matter for her physician, not for you. To my mind, it is utterly ridiculous for a female as young as Mara to be Leska-linked to a male as old as your brother! But that can’t be helped. He’s going to need a great deal of counseling to help him adjust, too.” She turned and began to walk toward the door, then stopped.

  “See the rest of Mara’s belongings are sent to the villa, Khartu Rakula. You’ll be pleased to know she will not be returning to this house. Good day.”

  Dzaka had to run to catch up with her. “Liegena…”

  “Get Zhala to set up one of the guest rooms for Mara until we’ve found her a den mother,” she said. “If only someone had told me something of what was going on! Never let this happen again, Dzaka,” she said rounding on him. “No matter what Kusac says, tell me!”

  “Yes, Liegena, but you have to realize we were all afraid that…”

  “What?” she demanded, continuing down the snow cleared main street to the villa.

  “That because of what had happened to you, her fear of having a Sholan cub would…”

  “Would what, Dzaka?” She was losing patience with him now.

  “That you’d become afraid of your own cub again.”

  She stopped dead and looked up at him in surprise. “You thought I’d be afraid of carrying my cub?” She reached out from the folds of her cloak to tweak his ear. “Never! Not this or any other cub, Dzaka. I know who and what I am now.”

  “What’s that?”

  “En’Shalla, Dzaka. The first En’Shalla Human,” she said, taking him by the arm.

  *

  When Carrie returned home, she checked out the data files with Kusac. There was only one likely candidate and it was with little expectation of success that she contacted the woman, inviting her out to the villa the next day for an interview. Her fears, however, proved to be unfounded.

  Ruth could have been the archetypal Mother. Of medium height, her figure could best be described as Junoesque. Wavy fair hair with ginger highlights reached midway down her back. Green eyes sparkled with amusement and interest as she glanced around the den. Arranging her long winter Sholan robes around herself, she sat down in one of the easy chairs.

  “Coffee?” Carrie asked.

  “That would be nice,” said Ruth, looking curiously at the brightly patterned rugs and wall hangings. “Is this Sholan decoration? Or do I detect an Earth influence?”

  “Sholan— southern Sholan,” Carrie said, handing her a mug. “There are apparently similarities, though. Being Keissian I wouldn’t know.”

  Ruth accepted the mug. “Of course. I’d forgotten you were one of the original colonists. Be surprising if there weren’t similarities considering how well our species get on together. Your young male, Dzaka, wasn’t very forthcoming about the nature of this meeting. He was almost as mysterious as you were yesterday! How about explaining the situation?”

  “We have a young girl here, Mara Ryan, with a Sholan Leska,” began Carrie.

  “Everyone at the Guild knows about Mara! What about the rest? What’s the real problem with Mara?”

  Carrie felt herself beginning to warm to the woman. “As I see it, it’s twofold. First, she’s not much more than a child herself. From what I can gather, her family were more than happy to see the back of her because of her Sholan Leska.” She stopped to take a sip of her coffee and collect her thoughts. “Secondly, everyone around her has been expecting her to fit into Sholan culture as easily as if she’d been born to it.”

  “Because you did.”

  Carrie tilted her head to one side in a uniquely Sholan gesture of embarrassed agreement. “I was the first. They judged her by me, and I wasn’t aware of what was happening then. Because of my injuries after the Challenge, no one wanted to involve me in her troubles.” She sighed, picking up a spoon and stirring her coffee several times. “Also, at that time, I was the only Human on the estate. Now Mara’s pregnant, and her cub will look as Sholan as mine and Vanna’s. Yesterday she tried to commit suicide.”

  Ruth made a noise of sympathy. “Was she badly hurt?”

  “Thankfully, no, and the cub’s all right, too, but she still wants to abort.”

  “What’s the Sholan view? And yours, come to that.”

  “The Sholan attitude is colored by the fact that their females only become pregnant when they want to. To do so outside a contract with a partner, or your Leska, carries heavy social penalties. As for me, I can’t afford to let my prejudices affect Mara.” She smiled gently. “I’ve too newly become a mother. This is a Sholan estate, though, not Human, so Sholan attitudes tend to prevail.”

  “So what you want is to create a halfway house for Mara, a predominantly Human environment in which she can finish growing up,” said Ruth thoughtfully.

  “One without a male influence,” added Carrie. “I want nothing to remind her of her life with Zhyaf.”

  “I do have a daughter,” began Ruth.

  “No problem. A younger girl she can show round the estate could be good for her. Provided you do realize that relationships— physical relationships— between Humans and Sholans are the norm and you don’t mind your daughter growing up in our kind of environment.”

  “It’s healthier than the one at the Guild,” Ruth said frankly. “There’s been no real effort to integrate us into the mainstream classes. A two-tier guild is already established with only the Humans needed in an official capacity getting adequate training. You know, the more I think about it, the more halfway houses— not only on this estate but elsewhere— seem like a good idea.”

  Ruth drained her mug and put it back on the low table in front of her. “She can’t be the only young woman on Shola with cultural identity problems, and with more mixed Leska pairings happening, the problem is going to grow. Yes, I’d love to be involved.”

  “We’re only concerned with those on our estate at the moment,” said Carrie. “We occupy a unique position on Shola, an En’Shalla Clan, owing allegiance only to each other and the Head Priest of Vartra. Believe me, that’s going to be a large enough responsibility for all of us.” She leaned forward to refill her mug, gesturing to Ruth’s at the same time. “I’m looking for someone to run our project, someone to be our den mother and set up pastoral care for those not living with her. Are you interested?” Her instincts were usually right, and they were telling her Ruth was the person she needed.

  “No disrespect intended, but before I commit myself to something of this size, I’d like to know your chain of command. To whom would I be answerable?”

  That was good, Carrie thought. Ruth’s already looking at the consequences of her decision. “We’d have an advisory group until it was up and running. After that, you should be pretty well autonomous. There’s Jack Reynolds, our physician, myself and my life-mate, Kusac, of course, and Clan Leader Rhyasha up at the Aldatan estate.”

  “What about the Telepath Guild? What’s their Üxwinvolvement?”

  “None. We have established friendly relations with them, and an exchange of medical and telepathic data, but that’s all.”

  Ruth nodded, obviously satisfied. “And my position? If I leave the Telepath Guild to come here, I’ll need some security. I have my daughter to think of as well as myself.”

  “Once we know the project is working under your management, then, should you wish it, you’ll become members of our clan. We can’t do it before then because to accept someone into our clan is a serious matter for us. It involves a perpetual responsibility, and our clan is, as I’ve said, unique.”

  “Then I’ve only one more question. When do I move in?”

  Carrie grinned. “Whenever you wish. We’ve a house ready for you— one of those large enough to accommodate a Sholan extended family.” She paused. “There’s just one other point. Would you mind keeping an eye on a nine-year-old kitling called Dai
ra? It would only be during the days. He’s an orphan and my bond-mother thought that having a young Sholan male around would be more balanced than putting her in a totally Human environment. He’s about the same age as your daughter, isn’t he?”

  Ruth thought about it for a moment. “A couple of years younger. I’ll give it a try, but if it doesn’t work out…”

  “Then we’ll abandon the idea. Now, would you like to see your new home today?”

  Leaving Ruth in the capable hands of Rulla, Carrie went to visit Mara. She found her weepy and depressed.

  “Would you like to come and stay with us for a few days?” asked Carrie. “Unless you want to, there’s no reason for you to live with Zhyaf, you know.”

  Mara blotted her eyes on the soggy tissue and looked at her hopefully. “I don’t have to go back?”

  “Not unless you want to. Do you?”

  She shook her head. “Have you met his sister?” she asked tentatively.

  “That one? Gods, what a dragon!”

  Mara began to smile. “She is, isn’t she?”

  Carrie leaned forward conspiratorially. “How on earth did you stand her? I’d have been out of there like a shot, I’ll tell you!”

  That started her giggling, then her face crumpled again and the tissue went back up to her eyes.

  Carrie leaned forward and took it away from her, throwing it in the bin nearby and handing her a pile of fresh ones.

  “But I’d nowhere to go,” she sobbed. “I had to stay there!”

  Taking Mara in her arms, Carrie hugged her close. “You have now. That silly mate of mine didn’t let me know you were having problems. They all thought you should try and be Sholan, not stay Human. All that’s going to change, Mara, I promise you. I’ve arranged for you to stay in the village with a woman called Ruth Brown.”

  Mara sat up, her sobs getting farther and farther apart as she looked at Carrie. “What’s she like?”

  “She laughs a lot, and she’s got a daughter called Mandy who’s twelve years old.”