Mindtouch

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  For Liana

  I didn’t know what I was supposed to learn

  from what happened to you

  so I asked

  BRIEF GLOSSARY

  Alet (ah LEHT): ”friend,” but formal, as one would address a stranger. Plural is aletsen.

  Arii (ah REE): ”friend,” personal. An endearment. Used only for actual friends. Plural is ariisen. Additional forms include ariihir (“dear brother”) and ariishir (“dear sister”).

  Dami (DAH mee): ”mom,” in Tam-leyan. Often used among other Pelted species.

  Fin (FEEN): a unit of Alliance currency. Singular is deprecated finca, rarely used.

  Hea (HEY ah): abbreviation for Healer-assist.

  Kara (kah RAH): ”child”. Plural is karasen.

  Tapa (TAH pah): ”dad,” in Tam-leyan. Often used among other Pelted species.

  CHAPTER 1

  “I’m here for my room assignment, please,” Jahir said.

  The woman behind the registration desk glanced at him and barely concealed her surprise. He supposed not many people stood tall enough to look over the desk at her. Either that, or it was because he was Eldritch.

  “New or returning student?” she said, stumbling back onto her checklist. Her fingers swiped through the display hanging mid-air before her, gathering data like a mage out of legend at work on a spell. He found it unlikely and mesmerizing, the Alliance’s interface with its technology.

  “New,” Jahir said.

  “Name?”

  “Jahir Seni Galare,” he said.

  Tiny chimes accompanied her data entry. She nodded. “First year, Xenopsychology.” She paused while she scanned his information, hesitated. When he canted his head, she said, “You’re…a bit older than our usual freshman.” She cleared her throat. “Do you have a data tablet?”

  He fetched it from the bag at his feet and set it on the counter for her, wondering anew what purpose the desk’s height served. Most people would have trouble with it. Was it meant to intimidate incoming students? There might be a paper in it.

  The thought amused him, and his slight smile bought him another covert glance, one he wasn’t supposed to notice. Her ears and cheeks flushed bright pink. Jahir didn’t remember which of the foxine races had the mostly humanoid faces, but she was entirely believable despite her improbable origins. From what he understood, most of the Pelted were Earth’s engineered children.

  “We don’t get many Eldritch,” she said as she took the tablet, one ear sagging and the other upright.

  “I don’t mind,” Jahir said, and didn’t. Stares were the least of his issues.

  Her smile brightened and she set the data tablet back on the counter. “First year information is on your tablet, along with your room assignment and your roommate’s name. Dorms are outside and to the--”

  “Roommate?” Jahir frowned. “I thought I specified I wanted a single occupancy room.”

  “We’re full this semester,” the foxine said. “No one gets a single until some space frees up.”

  “Perhaps there is a misunderstanding,” Jahir said. “I paid for a room alone.”

  She nodded. “Your refund is processing,” she said. “I’m sorry, Mr…err, Galare? But this semester everyone’s rooming with someone else.”

  Jahir shook his head, stifling the first surge of panic. “A room to myself is a medical necessity. I’m afraid I must insist.”

  “A medical necessity?” She paused, and once again her fingers swayed over the display. A few moments later, she said, “I can’t find anything on your file. Did you indicate your medical needs on your application in the appropriate space?”

  Jahir set his hand on the counter. “No,” he said, drawing the word out.

  “You didn’t,” she said flatly, eyeing him.

  “No,” Jahir said again, wishing he’d thought of it. He hadn’t expected the need, and he certainly hadn’t wanted to discuss the limitations imposed on him by his race’s mental abilities with the university staff.

  “Is this an elective medical need?”

  Yes, there was asperity there. Caught between lying and exposing his weaknesses, Jahir considered his options. “No, I’m afraid not.”

  The woman’s ears flipped back. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to help you this semester, Mr. Galare.”

  “And I’m afraid I can’t compromise on this, madam,” Jahir answered. “Perhaps you should fetch your superior.”

  She sighed, and left.

  Jahir leaned against the counter while he waited, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to banish the headache lurking there. He had not been on Seersana even six hours, and he’d already been smothered several times by the overactive minds of aliens. Having to stand so close to them in lines, shuttles and ground transports inevitably resulted in accidents, some of them so intense he’d had to find someplace to sit until the impressions faded. He’d been treated to grocery lists, silent tirades against unfaithful lovers, wistful sexual yearnings, fears and grumbles about work situations so byzantine he couldn’t believe he could learn so much from a few seconds’ contact…just six hours, and he already needed at least one to regain his equilibrium and rebuild his fragile globe of psychic shielding.

  He was weary in bone and joint, in a way he hadn’t at all been anticipating. He could not, absolutely not, spend an entire semester without a place he could barricade himself into to recoup.

  The woman’s superior turned out to be a Phoenix of a gender Jahir couldn’t discern, an amazing creature with metallic plumage, a beak as long as Jahir’s forearm and enormous eyes the clear blue of cornflowers. It tilted its head at him far enough to study him with one large avian eye, shuffled the wings that depended from its humanoid arms.

  “May I help you, Lord Seni Galare?” it asked, without trace of an accent.

  “I require a single room,” Jahir said. “For medical purposes.” Maintaining sanity counted, he assumed.

  “Nanette informs me you did not flag this medical necessity in your application,” the Phoenix said.

  “That is correct,” Jahir said.

  “We take the health of our students very seriously, Lord Seni Galare. We are not well-served by students arriving with unmentioned medical needs that immediately disrupt the processes of the university. Do you have any other mysterious needs you declined to share with us on your application?”

  The creature’s straight delivery of this speech gave Jahir cause to wonder if it was trying to shame him or if this was some mystery of Phoenixae behavior. These were the kinds of idle thoughts that had driven him here, to this marble floor in front of a too-tall-for-everyone-else registration desk, where an alien was, he thought, reprimanding him. “None, no,” Jahir said.

  The Phoenixae’s feathers ruffled. “We have no single rooms this semester. Apologies, but we cannot make an exception. There is a simple issue of physical space. It cannot be reasoned with, you understand. The laws of the universe.”

  “Surely—”

  “No,” the Phoenix said, in a manner so alien Jahir wasn’t sure whether it knew that interruption was rude. Its brassy crest lifted, spread, feathers shining beneath the sun streaming in from the overhead windows. “I am so sorry, Lord Seni Galare. If this medical need truly is necessity, we will attempt to make alternate arrangements for you outside the university.” A pause, then.

  “I’m sorry, I must insist,” Jahir said. He didn’t miss the slight quiver and drop of the foxine’s ears.

  “Very well,” the Phoenix said. “But in the future, you will disclose such information to us, or we will not be held accountable for any harm that comes to you.”

  “Of course,” Jahir said to its back as it departed. He glanced at the foxine.

  “I’ll see what I ca
n do,” she said in a low voice. “When I have more information, I’ll push it to your tablet. You may have to stay in one of the auditorium conference rooms until we find something.”

  With a frown, Jahir looked at her, and she finished, “Apartments fill up quickly, Mr…er, Lord. The semester starts in a few days. We may have issues finding something appropriate. Particularly if you have preferences about how far you wish to walk, or how much more than your deposit you want to pay.” She cocked her head. “You don’t have any preferences, do you?”

  “I’d call them parameters, but….”

  Her ears sagged further. “Naturally. Well, tell me now. And don’t leave anything out this time.”

  They spent the next fifteen minutes in that discourse, and by the end of it the foxine’s ears were pinned to her head and her face had stiffened into a polite mask. Jahir wished he could spare her the trouble he’d evidently created for her, but there was no way he could stay sane in a double.

  Shouldering his bag, he left the administration building, boot heels clicking on the stone tiles. Once outside, he squinted at the yellow sun and its shroud of fine clouds as pale as his own skin, felt the weight of the hours that had passed. He found a bench in the courtyard and claimed it, relieved to be able to sit. How strange it was to finally be here! After so many years, and few of them planned…he’d never intended to leave home, for as the heir to the Seni Galare he’d had work, even with his mother still active in the management of the estates. But he’d been educated on the use of the Well feed to the Alliance, one few Eldritch would have known about, and in his off hours had chanced on the university’s open enrollment. He’d take first one class… and then another… and soon enough found himself longing to actually see the world he’d been reading about.

  He’d been expecting his mother to object to his plan to leave; instead, she’d put him in contact with the Queen’s courier service herself and told him to write her as he had the time. He’d left his isolationist world without a single qualm. Jahir was done with seclusion, or so he’d thought. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been counting on having a private space to retreat to when the alienness of it became overwhelming. Even tightly shielded and clothed from throat to gloved fingertips and down to booted feet, he could sense the vibrant life of the campus. Scattered students wandered across the courtyard’s paths, their essences whispering to his mind. He was not especially talented for an Eldritch, but even so it threatened. Most of his kind, on sensing the presence and feelings of others, closed themselves off completely.

  Sensing the feelings of others had set Jahir on this path.

  A path that led to a roommate.

  He sighed, trying not to envision himself sleeping on a conference room table in an auditorium for a few days. He focused instead on a creature shaped like a giant bird with horns as it walked past in the company of another one of the foxlike humanoids. Curiosity brushed aside the unease in Jahir, as it always had. He could remain here, to obsess over his data tablet and occasionally step into the building to see if the woman needed further urging…or he could spend the rest of the day investigating the campus. Inevitably, he headed for one of the locker rental units.

  According to the research Jahir had done through the Well feed, Seersana’s university had preceded even Karaka’A’s prestigious institute as the first in the Alliance, just as this solar system’s two worlds had been the first settlement for the Pelted fleeing Earth. Its renowned medical colleges had been the product of necessity, for the first generations of the Pelted had been forced to re-engineer themselves to remove the flaws humanity had bequeathed them. As the Pelted encountered the first aliens, the medical curricula grew to encompass them. Seersana’s xenopsychology school was also the oldest in the Alliance, another reason Jahir had selected it.

  Now that he was here, its unalloyed beauty offered an additional lagniappe. Ancient trees guarded the campus’s walkways, nodding over the broad lawns that separated the buildings. Tiny fountains nestled in secluded copses, their commemorative plaques written in Universal rhyme, Seersan glyphs, or, as one might expect of the race that carekept the Exodus records, both and a multitude of other languages besides. Jahir traced the engravings with his fingers. His own tongue was never one of those other languages, of course. His people would never have allowed it.

  Every place he walked, he saw great effort employed in the preservation of the existing flora. The path leading from the School of Healing-Assist to the Rhone Medical Library wended through what could only be called a small forest, where a series of metal arches prevented the trees from draping their leaves onto the shoulders of passersby.

  It was a disappointment to reach the edge of the medical campus and discover an empty lot, so finding a centaur wrapped up in a rope and surrounded by six squealing girls was a decided improvement. Jahir stopped on the edge to stare.

  The creature tangled in the ropes had four legs and two arms in the configuration of a centaur. He also had a tail and two smooth wings attached lengthwise to his lower back. His black and white pelt suggested a permanent formal suit, with white stripes down his black back, a white chest and white toes. His face was some amalgam of animal and human, with a short muzzle and floppy black bangs over brown eyes. Instead of ears, he had feathers arranged in sprays, like the back of a woman’s hat. Jahir had never seen anything like him.

  The Eldritch walked forward before he could think better of the plan. “Pardon me. May I assist?”

  The centauroid glanced at him; all the little girls glanced at him. In the silence, Jahir was suddenly the center of attention.

  “What is that?” one of the girls asked.

  Another said, “It’s a human in white paint!”

  “No, no,” the centauroid said, laughing. He had a pleasant voice, a warm tenor with a furry timbre. “That’s an Eldritch, kara.”

  “Those are the ones that never leave their world, right?” another asked.

  “I guess not,” the centauroid said with a grin.

  “You sure he’s not a painted human?” the first girl asked again. “Or maybe he’s like one of those animals that’s born without skin color?”

  The centauroid laughed. “I’m certain. If he were human he wouldn’t be so elongated. He’s an Eldritch, sure as I’m fuzzy.”

  “So that means he has secret powers!” This from a human girl with ragged pigtails of dull brown hair and eyes bright as a sparrow’s. “He can read people’s minds, and he has a treasure trove of gold, and he has a dragon protecting his ancient palace, and he’s probably a prince!”

  “A lord anyway,” Jahir said, laughing. “But a very, very minor one. Tell me, gentles, what are you doing to yonder man?”

  “We’re teaching him to jump rope,” she said.

  “Trying, anyway,” another said.

  “And he’s not a man,” said the third. “He’s a Glaseah.”

  “He’s doing okay for someone with so many legs,” one of the girls untangling him said. She had small limp ears, naked and set on a bald head. Jahir wondered what strange aesthetic had prompted the coif.

  “And wings.”

  “And arms!”

  “I see,” Jahir said.

  “Ladies, a little more help, please?” the Glaseah said, for the discussion had distracted them. “I can’t reach some of those tangles, you know.”

  “Oh! Sorry!” The human and two of the others went back to picking the rope from around the centauroid’s tail. Jahir watched, fascinated. He had never heard of jump rope, but he couldn’t fathom how they’d managed to tangle the Glaseah up so completely.

  “What are you looking at?” another girl asked, the shortest of the six. “You asked if you could help, so come help!”

  “He’s not supposed to touch people,” the centauroid said.

  “Not at all?” the bald girl asked. “But why?”

  “Because if he does, he’ll lose his virginity!” a different human girl said.

  Jahir and the Glaseah st
ared at her. The other girls simply looked puzzled.

  “What does that mean?” the shortest one asked.

  The human shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard one of the nurses say it while she was watching the news. She said one of her friends was guarding her virginity like an Eldritch would. I guess that’s something important.”

  The Glaseah’s mouth twisted into an amazing pucker, chest shaking with withheld laughter.

  “Is it true?” the bald girl asked him.

  “What’s a virginity, anyway?” another asked.

  Jahir opened his mouth, then closed it.

  “I believe,” the Glaseah said, glancing at him with sparkling eyes, “that the reason you can’t touch him is because if you do, you will force your thoughts on his. His mind is very sensitive, you see.”

  “Oh. Is that what a virginity is?”

  “No,” Jahir said firmly, determined to steer the conversation away from the whole topic. “But I will get that knot up yonder.” He pointed at the one on top of the centauroid’s wing.

  “Okay,” the children said. They returned to their labors, leaving Jahir to approach the centauroid with caution. The Glaseah’s eyes had not lost their sparkle, but they also held a note of curiosity, one that Jahir was familiar with. He’d seen it in the silvered glass a few too many times at home. It had led him here, to the task of untying an alien in bondage to six little girls. Wonders never ceased.

  The knot had looped around the top of the wing, which Jahir studied with great interest. The front of the wing resembled another arm with an elongated forearm. The rope was caught in something that resembled a thumb with a claw at its crest.

  Not caught. Held. Jahir stared, taken aback, when the thumb lifted and dropped the rope into his palm. When he looked at the Glaseah, he received a solemn wink…and then a nod at one of the children. Jahir chanced a look past one shoulder and caught the flash of a metal-lined port nestled in the base of one neck.

  Then the rest of the scene fell into place. The lot with its sleek, small-occupancy vehicles, meant to receive visitors from outside the university. The simple gowns, gaily patterned but all cut to the same design. The bald head…the ragged hair on the human…the sallow skin. The building across from him had to be—and was, he saw, squinting to read the plaque—a children’s hospital.