By the time Ben noticed the return of the other diners, both he and Tina had finished eating. For Ben it was like noticing the elevator style music played in the background at a store. Ben became irritable at the realization of the echoing duality of the noise. He was ready to lash out again. Something in his posture keyed Tina into his mood and she rapidly led him from the cafeteria.
“Ben, let’s go talk to Niri in her office,” Tina urged while yanking at Ben's arm. She led him into a transport booth and keyed in a short sequence. They reappeared in a room resembling the living portion of Ben's quarters, minus the halls leading to the bedrooms, and plus a big desk in the center. Moments later Niri appeared. She motioned for Ben to sit on the lounge couch.
“Ben, it seems we have been rushing you along too fast. We opened the door, and we haven't given you enough time to learn how to close it. You can't keep everybody out, and that interferes with your ability to keep control over your own thoughts and emotions.” Niri apologized.
Ben considered the difference in mood that the relative silence of the room made to his mood and had to agree with Niri. “So now what?”
“We take a few steps back to take a few steps forward. Tina, would you please go and get a suppresser from Gene.” Tina nodded and disappeared back through the transport booth. “The suppresser will slowly reduce its levels, bringing up your telepathy at a slower rate. Which hopefully you can adapt to, if not,” Niri gave Ben a discouraging shrug.
Tina arrived with a thin wire necklace from which was suspended a tag roughly the size and shape of a fifty cent piece. She handed it to Niri, and Niri slipped it over Ben's head to hang around his neck. The necklace rapidly deadened the muted rumblings from Niri's mind, and he felt his raw nerves soothed.
“We'll skip the rest of the afternoon's lessons. You head on back to your quarters and get some rest.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Miranda awoke to the strange and unnatural sound of rain pelting the metal roof. Fear slithered up her spine until she recognized thunder rumbling, wind roaring, and that it was the rain making tinny tap dancing sounds on the metal roof. It was all very loud and chaotic. It bore little resemblance to the sound of the storm in the desert, which had been partially muffled by the sand.
Her wonderful waterproof clothing was gone and she knew she must stay under shelter to remain warm and dry, but she didn't mind. The clothes she was wearing lacked the dirty, filthy, suppressive connotations that her uniform had held. Besides she wasn't exactly in the condition to be out reveling in the pure cleanness of it anyway.
Miranda propped herself up with one hand and reached the other around to feel the back of her head. It was obscured by thick bandages, so that she couldn't determine anything, other than it wasn't as sensitive to pressure. Miranda looked around but couldn't see much of the storm for all the other people huddled beneath the sunroof to get out of the storm. Her nose reported the fragrant meld of flowers, water and ozone in the air.
Miranda took a chance and rose to get a look at the storm. She reached her feet without too much of a struggle, what she saw was worth it. Rain came down in sheets just beyond the roof line, forming sloppy little puddles on the patio's paving stones. Rain clung, caught in the twigs of a dormant tree like tiny jeweled bracelets. Leaf buds glistened like emeralds in the rain water. A cleansing fog hung beneath the trees trapping and refracting the light. It was a magical sight, but it didn't distract Miranda from an inner nagging.
When Miranda admitted that to herself, she was able to name its source. She needed to leave. The sheriff, on the last world, was sure to have told the dark of her presence. She couldn't see any way that her trail here would go unnoticed. She had been too unfocused on her way here to have done any kind of job of covering her trail. They would follow it, and once here it would be a matter of minutes for them to find their way to her.
Miranda looked around at the gray robed people huddling with her beneath the roof. She didn't want to think about what would happen if the dark came here. These people would probably place themselves between the darkones and her. The dark would mow through them like an overgrown lawn. She couldn't let that happen. Her only choice was to flee before these poor innocents got caught in the middle of her fight. Miranda reached her mind out to find an escape route. She immediately sensed the wormhole, confirming that this was the same world as the old woman's. Strangely as she searched the turbulence of the wormhole she couldn't find the tiny pinprick of an off branching trail.
“And, what do you think you are doing?” The healer growled. Her hand gripped Miranda's shoulder firmly.
“Leaving this world before I bring down worlds of trouble on your people.” Miranda answered plainly.
The woman's eyes widened at Miranda's statement, “By yourself?” In two words her voice went from authoritative to shocked indignation.
“How else? Do you want me to haul a trained orangutan along for show and tell?” Miranda asked, placing her hands on her hips.
“You, know what a orangutan is? You're from Earth? How?” The healer's voice dropped to frequencies below the standard human range of hearing.
“They're big orange monkeys. I don't think I'm from Earth, but as they say, 'been there done that'.” Miranda dropped her voice as well.
“And, you teleported all that way by yourself? You didn't need any help from any other Briaunti,” The woman's incredulity began to wear on Miranda.
“Yes, by myself, under my own powers, I teleported here. This is actually my second visit. The first time all I saw was a mountain range and a lot of sand.”
“That sounds like The Altan Desert,” The healer placed a name to the place, a courtesy that the old woman had been severely lacking in.
“And this place is?”
“Relevar.”
“Okay, is that the country, or the province?” Miranda probed for more information, since she had finally found a source which was forthcoming.
“We don't have provinces technically, though we are within the holdings of the king.”
“So this is the kingdom of Relevar,” Miranda paused long enough for the healer to nod, “ then what is the name of the planet?”
“Relevar.”
“Like the kingdom? Doesn't that get confusing?”
The healer woman laughed, “If you think that is confusing I guess I shouldn't take you to Relevar, to meet the Relevars.”
“I thought I was on and in Relevar.”
“Oh, you are, but the capital city is also called Relevar, and Relevar is the name of the royal household.” By that time the healer had laughed herself to tears, and the others under the shelter had turned to see what the healer found so funny. She briefly assured them it was healer humor and they turned back to watching the storm.
Miranda, on the other hand, settled into a funk. She had felt well when she awoke, but after the mental gymnastics she felt spent. The situation left her silently thanking the strange old woman for having been so sparse with her namings, especially on this world.
“You should lie down for a while longer. I know you feel better, but head wounds can be deceptive. Even if you could make it from world to world when in top condition; I really don't think you should try it until I'm sure your head is healed. It could be dangerous. I don't know enough to say whether or not you could get stuck halfway to nowhere.”
Miranda shrugged off the healer's concern. It seemed silly. Yes, teleporting from world to world took energy, but no more so than to teleport across a room. Mostly it was just a matter of concept, and skill. A brief memory of fighting the wormhole popped into mind and suddenly Miranda decided that a wait might not be a bad idea after all.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 6
Around the Bend
------------------------------------
Tina walked with Ben to his quarters. When they got off of the elevator at his level, the living area was deserted. He trudged over
to the kitchenette and began opening and loudly closing the cupboards.
“What are you looking for?” Tina rushed over and began looking through the cupboards alongside of him.
“My dignity I think,” Ben snapped. He swung the cupboard door he was holding back towards its frame with enough force that it rebounded back at him. "It's been a long time since I was sent to my room for having had a tantrum.”
“You didn't have a tantrum. If it had been a tantrum, trust me everybody would have let you know about it!” Tina gently closed the door. “They all understood. Every one of them have been where you are at one time or another, human or not. Humans usually have a lot of trouble adapting to the revelation of their latent abilities, and most of them don't have anywhere near your rating. The others, get really hormonal right before they 'morph into their adult abilities.”
“So you're saying that I am behaving quite well for an adolescent hormone case. That really makes me feel better considering I'm less than three years from thirty.”
“No, I'm trying to say that at least you haven't gone pathologically mental. There is a 75 percent insanity rate for humans with ratings above 200. That is even without attempting to deal with half the things that have been asked of you since you got here. “
Ben turned a quick glare on Tina, “Just how much do you know about me?”
“Not too many specifics. Mostly I can tell from your symptoms. You didn't show many if any signs of your abilities up until you got here. Your brain did a real good job of protective suppression. Then when you got here, my guess is someone gave you one of those telempathy amplifiers, it may have even surprised them when the first one was too loud. You didn't wear it for long, but from then on you haven't been entirely able to shut the voices out. Except for when you were alone in your room. You probably spent half the morning trying to get the psychokinetic amplifier to work, because Niri gave you little or no instructions. Then neurotic and defeated by your failure you went to lunch. Am I right?”
“Mostly, you got that all from symptoms? If you can do that, why are you worrying about not having telepathy. I don't think even Daniel could have been as right on the money with so little to go on.” Ben eyed Tina appreciatively.
“I have had a lot of practice, you aren't exactly the first person trusted to my tutelage.” Tina demurred.
“Tutelage ?I've seen my share of shrinks and doctors, you may as well call me a patient. You should go into medicine or something.”
Tina laughed at the idea. Ben stared her down seriously, until her playful smirk was replaced with a contemplative smile, “Do you really think so? Maybe I'll talk to Gene about it.”
Ben nodded at Tina, “So Doc, under the circumstances, what do you prescribe for a patient exhibiting this problematic behavior?”
Tina giggled and opened a pair of cupboards. From one she brought out a small canister labeled cocoa, and from another she retrieved two cups. “I prescribe a cup of hot chocolate and a quiet afternoon playing cards.” She spooned several generous spoonfuls of powder into each cup then put the canister away.
“Yes, ma'am!”
Tina showed Ben around the kitchen, from the hot water dispenser to the food processor, which looked nothing like what he thought it would. The food processor was a small microwave style box with a computer readout and control panel.
“You can ask it for what you want, and then it produces it. It communicates with your p-dope to find out how nutritionally complete your diet has been. The processor then messes around with your meal to include any nutrients you are lacking while screwing up the taste as little as possible. I have mixed feelings about the darn thing, on the one hand it saves us poor stubborn kids from the horrors of brusselsprouts, on the other it makes milkshakes good for you.” Tina grimaced and shivered in disgust.
“Whoa, back peddle a minute Doc. What is a p-dope?”
“Your personal data organization program, or Room.” Tina answered.
“Mine's Aunt Bea.”
“Cool, I call mine Spot. My mom never let me have a dog.” Tina filled the mugs with water from the hot water dispenser. She stirred with a spoon produced from one of the drawers.
“If the food processor can make anything why not just order a cocoa?”
Tina shoved one of the mugs into Ben's palm. “Cause, it would make the cocoa good for you, and I feel that would reduce its therapeutic benefits.”
Ben snuffed out a chuckle over the brim of the mug and took a careful sip. It was fairly good for a powdered cocoa, almost as good as the old fashioned from scratch kind. “So Doc, what are the benefits of this medication?”
Tina laughed and snorted hot chocolate out of her nose. Ben grabbed a paper towel and passed it to her. She patted at her nose with it and tried to stop chuckling, “Stop calling me that! I'll never make doctor! Not without some kind of powers.”
“Does Gene have any powers? I don't remember his mental voice.” Ben gulped down another large swallow of hot chocolate.
Tina's mirth clouded over and she shrunk back from Ben, “No, he's like me. The dark did it to him. They hurt him really bad.”
“He seems like a competent doctor to me. Daniel told me he's one of your best.”
“Oh, he is. He's the medical chief, in charge of all the other doctors.”
“If he can get that far without powers, why couldn't you? For that matter why couldn't you be anything you want to be?” Ben finished his mug and set it down in the sink.
Tina swallowed all of her cocoa in one drink. “Put it in the processor, it does dishes too.” She did as she suggested and closed the door. After she tapped the button labeled wash, the machine hummed for a second then pinged. When she opened the door, she pulled out the cup and showed him that it was free of any signs of use. She hovered near Ben as he followed her example then she put both cups away.
“Ben, do you mean what you said?”
“About the Doc thing?”
“About me being anything I want.”
“Yes.”
Tina turned her face up towards Ben, revealing the tears welling up from the corners of her eyes, “Thank you.”
“Not a problem Doc.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Miranda looked across the clearing at the trees. They glistened from the dew condensed on their branches. It seemed like it was always wet here. If it wasn't raining then there was a fine mist hanging about. It was the polar opposite of the desert, wet, lush and full of animal sounds. Sounds which intrigued Miranda and drew her towards the forest. The silent sound of a throat being cleared brought Miranda up short. She looked back to see the healer's eyes fixed firmly on her.
Miranda walked briskly around the patio, never far from the sight of the healer. The woman was obsessive in her protectiveness of her patients. The few times Miranda had wandered off into the forest to escape the boredom of enforced recuperative inactivity, the healer had quickly hunted her down and followed her. Miranda almost longed for brief periods of solitary recuperation afforded her in the dark compound, almost. It did feel good to have someone offering her exclusive and caring attention, however infuriating it sometimes was.
Miranda ran her hands over the fabric of the trousers the healer had given her. Made of a sturdy canvas, and covered in fine embroidered flowers, they were even more beautiful than the pair the woman had given her. The death blow to that outfit had been the ground in bloodstains from her head wound. The blouse had matching flowers but was made of softer stuff. The outfit demonstrated more than anything the kind of care the healer had given Miranda.
Miranda took up pacing. After two days, she had felt fine. Her mind was clear. Her head no longer hurt, and it showed no signs of the wound ever having existed. Still the healer wanted to err on the side of caution. It had been more than a week. Miranda had spent the entire time arguing with the healer over the urgency of her departure. Somehow the healer managed to talk her out of it, and restrain her. The woman just didn't see
m to get it.
Miranda focused her frustration on the dead branch of a tree near the garden path. The branch began sagging, then with a thunderous crack it fell. All of the people bent over tasks on the patio leapt to their feet and stared in surprise at the tree, all except the healer. She rose and calmly walked up to Miranda.
“I suppose it is time you went. You are right. You have completely recovered. I just hesitate to send you back out into a universe which seems intent on bashing your skull in. You can't deny that you are a little hesitant as well.” The healer held out a backpack to Miranda. “Here are some more clothes, and some medicines and bandages. They're all labeled with instructions, should you need them. The mindsbane is a multi-purpose healing tonic for us, just don't use it on an ordinary human.”
Miranda ran her hand over the canvas of the back pack, it bore the same flowers as her outfit. “I can't take this. You've already helped me too much, and all I have to offer is trouble.”
“Not true, you have given me something I never even considered possible, the possibility of returning home.”
“You are from Earth?”
“Yes, it’s been a long time, but it is where I was born. I didn't want to leave. I had no choice, but maybe they have forgotten by now.”
“Forgotten what?” Miranda settled the backpack on her shoulders.
“I leave that for your ancestors to explain,” the healer checked the fit of the backpack's straps, “Then again maybe I will be the one to do it, but not right now. Now go ahead and continue your search.”
“My search? I'm not searching for anything! I'm just trying not to get recaptured.” Miranda denied vehemently.
“I'm a telepath remember. I have, for all I've tried not to, heard your leaky thoughts. You are looking for someone. From the intensity of your entirely unconscious emotion, I'd say he's your pairmate.”
Eyes Love & Water Page 10
