Mindtouch

by M. C. A. Hogarth

“You also teach me things,” Jahir said when the flood had receded and he remained with only Nieve in his lap. Persy migrated over to nestle against Vasiht’h’s bulk, and the others arranged themselves in between.

  “Like what?” Amaranth wondered.

  “Kuriel has apparently taught me how to count days and months in Seersan,” Jahir said. “A matter I believe I would never have mastered without her subconscious aid.”

  Another chorus of giggles. “Well, it is hard for non-Seersa,” Kuriel said, earnest. “But most of them get it after a few years.”

  “I have, but don’t ask me to pronounce them without an accent!” Vasiht’h said.

  “What else have we taught you?” Kayla wondered.

  “I can now remember the differences between all the Pelted,” Jahir said. “Something I was also having trouble with… there are rather a lot of you, and I come from a world with only one sentient species.”

  “That’s a good one to know,” Persy said. “Because there really are a lot of Pelted.”

  “You have given me so much, in fact, that I feel the scales are uneven,” Jahir said. “I wish I might give you something in return.”

  “Oh, but you do!” Meekie exclaimed. “You give good dreams!”

  “I… what?”

  The other girls were nodding. “When you tuck us in. We dream about nice things. Unicorns and music and summer.”

  “All of you?” Jahir asked, bewildered.

  They glanced at one another. Kayla said, “Well, it’s strongest the day you tuck us in.”

  “But I still have dreams with summer mornings a few days after,” Meekie offered. “They’re just not as strong.”

  The other girls nodded.

  Jahir looked at Vasiht’h, wide-eyed. “This is perhaps something you are doing?”

  Vasiht’h shook his head. “Not intentionally. And if it were coming from me, it wouldn’t be unicorns and music and summer. It would be the sorts of things my sibs and mother used to lull me to sleep with. The evening sky and the stars dancing and the Mother Goddess breathing through the wind chimes.” He cocked his head. “Have you been trying to give them good dreams?”

  “I… I do wish them to have pleasant dreams,” Jahir said. “And I admit to the unicorns.” He glanced at the girls and said, “They being protectors—”

  “Like on your ring!” Amaranth crowed.

  “We remember,” Kayla agreed.

  “Then it’s probably you, yes,” Vasiht’h said.

  “I… I never intended!”

  “But we like it!” Kuriel protested. “They’re nice dreams.”

  “And I wake up feeling better,” Meekie said with a nod.

  “Does it make you feel better?” Kuriel asked. “Knowing you’re trading instead of just taking things?”

  “I admit I would feel far better if I’d known I was doing it,” Jahir said helplessly.

  “We didn’t know we were giving you our useful thoughts either,” Kayla pointed out. “So it was like that for us too.”

  “Maybe we should just stop trying to understand it and be happy about it,” Persy said.

  “That sounds like reasonable advice to me,” Vasiht’h said. “How about a board game?”

  That plan met with approval from the girls, and had the secondary effect of focusing their thoughts on a single thing, and strongly. Vasiht’h glanced at his roommate once or twice during the game and was pleased to see the lines of tension around his eyes easing. The Eldritch might be older than all these children’s grandparents, but when he didn’t seem older than time, he came across as a young man, curious, thoughtful, still trying to understand his place in the universe. Too young, Vasiht’h thought, to have lines like that framing his eyes. It was good to make them vanish.

  There was nothing about that session with the children that did not overwhelm Jahir, from the generosity of their hearts to the innocence of their gifts, from the sensation of their open embraces to the realization that he had in fact granted them something in return for what they’d shared. It seemed utterly unbelievable to him. When it was time for their naps, Vasiht’h glanced at him and said, “Maybe I should try it myself, yes?”

  “Ooh, yes!” Kuriel piped up. “I want a manylegs dream of windchimes and stars.”

  “Me too!” Meekie said.

  “And me!” Kayla said.

  Vasiht’h chuckled. “That leaves the other half for the summer, and the warmth of day, ah?”

  “Yes,” Jahir said, humbled. And helped the others onto their beds. This time, he paid attention to the gift, made it more distinct, tried to find some happy memory of a warm breeze sifting his hair, of the look of sunlight through leaves. Rest, he thought to Amaranth as he tucked her in, and she sighed, contented. He touched Persy’s cheek. Rest, he told her. And welcome back. Rest, the crisis is over for now.

  He came to Nieve last, Nieve with her great lavender eyes. She wiggled one hand out from under her blankets, just enough to beckon with a thin finger. He leaned close, and she whispered, “It’s okay to be sadder for us than we are for ourselves.”

  For a moment he couldn’t speak. Then, gravely, he said, “I will keep that in mind.”

  Satisfied, she closed her eyes. He arranged the blanket around her shoulder and leaned close until he could sense the shape of her ear. And then without speaking into it, he said, Rest also, thou.

  They withdrew, then, and Jahir could not move.

  “Hey, you two—” Berquist stopped and stood. “Did something go wrong? There’s nothing on the monitors—”

  “Nothing like that,” Vasiht’h said. “It’s just… the situation gets to you sometimes. You know.”

  “I do,” she said with a sigh, and Jahir thought that she looked at him, but he couldn’t tell… he was too busy sorting through the inside of his own head still.

  “Can we ask you something?” Vasiht’h continued.

  “Sure?”

  “Do the girls sleep better lately?”

  Berquist’s voice became more thoughtful. “Yes, actually. It’s something we’ve been tracking. We don’t know exactly what’s going on with it, but if we can keep it going… good sleep is vital.” She chuckled a little. “Maybe they just prefer the princess treatment from nice-looking princes. But speaking of princess treatment… we’ve got approval for the outing.”

  That focused Jahir’s thoughts admirably. “We do?”

  “Next week,” she said. “There’s supposed to be a warm front. We’ve got the okay from their parents—most of them are coming, so you’ll finally get to meet them—and Patrick and I volunteered to keep an eye on them. I’ll send you the details.” She glanced up at Jahir. “You are coming, aren’t you?”

  “Madam, we wouldn’t miss it,” Jahir said.

  “Good,” she said. “Very good.” She smiled. “Next week, then.”

  Jahir didn’t know how he knew that Vasiht’h would say something… and not just that he would, but almost to the moment when he would finally choose to break his silence. Had he come to know an alien so well, then, to be capable of such predictions? He found it comforting, and meditated on that comfort as he waited for the inevitable opener. Vasiht’h delivered it exactly on time, a little over a third of the way home.

  It was not, however, the question he was expecting.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Pardon?” Jahir said, glancing down at him.

  Vasiht’h continued padding along at his side, two quick footfalls for every one of the Eldritch’s. “It takes a lot out of you, being touched like that. Are you all right?”

  “Is it so obvious?” Jahir asked, surprised.

  “It is to me,” Vasiht’h said. And then, muttered. “At least, I think. Your face changes. The skin around your eyes.” He looked up, and Jahir could see the reflection of the autumn sky on brown irises, dark pupils. “So… are you?”

  “I believe so,” Jahir said after a moment.

  “And you would tell me if you weren’t. Because�
� I can’t help you if you don’t. And because I don’t like the idea of you just… suffering, quietly.”

  “I’m not suffering,” Jahir said, quiet, because the baldness of Vasiht’h’s answer required more than he usually gave. “I have discomfort. But it is only a slightly more acute version of what I expected on coming here, to the Alliance.” The Glaseah looked at him, so he finished, “You all die too young.”

  “I guess that’s not something you’re used to,” Vasiht’h said, though it had taken him long enough to answer that Jahir guessed he’d been distressed.

  “Death?” He thought of how many Eldritch died, and so easily. If they were not injured, if they were not expecting children, if they were not children and so vulnerable to disease and mishap, the members of his race could expect to live almost fifteen hundred years. But they did not have the Alliance’s medicine… not even close. “No,” he said. “I know death better than I like. But it’s a different thing, seeing it here.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Vasiht’h said.

  “It’s not something I recommend.” Jahir folded his hands behind his back. “Did you really give them dreams of windchimes?”

  “Oh, yes,” Vasiht’h said. “We had some outside our windows. It’s a way for us to manifest the evidence of the Goddess: She breathes, and Her breath moves the chimes. It’s common to put chimes outside children’s rooms, and places someone makes things, or works on creating something new.” He glanced at Jahir. “And you? Unicorns and sunbeams?”

  “I like warmth,” Jahir said. “The unicorns seemed like something they’d like.” He flexed his fingers through a piano exercise, feeling the weight of the House ring on the fourth. “In truth, Vasiht’h, I am not sure I have my arms around the entirety of what I’ve learned today.”

  “Then let it sit,” Vasiht’h said. “Better yet, sleep on it. Sleep makes sense of patterns… brings wisdom.”

  Thinking of his sad dreams of failed blooms, of waking up with the taste of saltwater on his mouth, Jahir said, “Sometimes.”

  Sehvi’s image leaned close enough that had they been sending on a solidigraphic stream he could have felt her looming over his shoulder. “You look worn out, big brother. Carrying some load I don’t know about yet?”

  Vasiht’h covered his face with one hand and didn’t bother to lift his head. “I need a research topic, Sehvi… preferably before the end of the semester, or Doctor Palland’s going to think that I’m just running from clinical.”

  “And are you?” Sehvi said. “Running from clinical?”

  “Argh, Sehvi!”

  She held up her hands. “Think of it as practice defending your reasons.”

  He moved his hand just enough to glare at her from the eye not covered by his forelock.

  She frowned. “Wow, this is serious, isn’t it.”

  “It will be if I don’t come up with a topic!” Vasiht’h said. “I thought it would be easy! Instead I just stare at a blank data tablet and nothing happens.”

  “You know, usually people who want to do research have some notion of what they’re interested in researching,” Sehvi said. “That’s why they go into it.”

  “Not always,” Vasiht’h said, grouchy. “Sometimes they just want to get tenure and this is the quickest way there.”

  “So that’s your goal then? The classroom, not the lab?”

  “Yes,” Vasiht’h said firmly. He was firm because he really wanted it. That’s what he was telling himself. “It’s family tradition.”

  Sehvi snorted. “When your family has three aunts and two uncles and three times that number of cousins, I don’t think you can claim there is a tradition just because our parents and grandparents sort of did similar things.”

  “You’re not helping,” Vasiht’h mumbled.

  “Fine,” she said. “Fine. I take it you did okay on midterms.”

  Vasiht’h lifted his head and frowned at her. “You don’t have to sound so grumpy about it.”

  “I am grumpy about it,” Sehvi said. “I think you’re making a mistake.”

  “Look, ariishir, I just…” He trailed off, and looked at her, his favorite of his siblings, and his closest. He sighed. “I don’t know if I can handle it. All right?”

  “No, it’s not all right,” she said, surprising him with her vehemence. “You should be in practice, Vasiht’h. We both know it. I don’t know what has you running scared of it, but you’re going to regret it.”

  “But I don’t know!” Vasiht’h exclaimed. “I don’t know that I should be in practice, and I don’t know how you do!”

  “Aksivhaht’h save me,” his sister said, ears flattening. “Vasiht’h! You do nothing but take care of people! For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve watched you do it. You want to make sure everyone’s okay. That they feel good, that they’re not hurt, that they’re content and settled in whatever they’re doing. You can’t relax unless you’re taking care of someone else. You were doing it to your classmates… you tried to do it to your former roommates and they wouldn’t let you and it made you unhappy. This is what you do! And you want to go teach in a classroom? Classrooms are where people go to get away from taking care of people!” She paused, then added, “Don’t tell Dami I said that.”

  “I won’t,” Vasiht’h said, fighting a laugh that was a little too close to pain.

  “You’re making a mistake,” his sister finished firmly. Her firm sounded a lot more definitive than his had.

  “Maybe I am,” Vasiht’h said, thinking of his conversation with Jahir. “And if I ever agree with you I’ll go back and fix it.” He smiled a little, resigned. “Maybe you can have this chat with my roommate, while you’re at it. I think he’s going to go the wrong track too.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded. “Unless I miss my guess, he’s going to take the medical concentration. But I’m not sure it will be healthy for him. He really feels things.”

  “So would you stuff him in the research track too?” Sehvi asked. “You know, keep him safe in a glass box with you?”

  “Well, when you put it that way,” Vasiht’h said, making a face. When he looked up, his sister was staring at him with lifted brows. “What?”

  “You see?” she said. “You’re doing it now.”

  “What?” he said, wary.

  “Taking care of other people,” she said. “You think he’s making a mistake. It bothers you. You want him to be well.”

  “I want him to be well because I like him!” Vasiht’h said.

  “You want everyone to be well, ariihir, you just won’t admit it,” she said. “So Tall, Bright, and Mysterious is careering toward a cliff, is he? Have you told him yet?”

  “N-o-ooooo,” Vasiht’h said. “He hasn’t made a decision yet. Maybe he’ll change his mind.”

  “You should discuss it with him. Maybe you’ll talk some sense into each other,” Sehvi said. She grinned. “You could give up your wrongful concentrations and go into practice with each other. Wouldn’t that be something? Glaseah and Eldritch, esper therapists at large!”

  “Don’t be silly,” Vasiht’h said, but the idea clung to him like a dandelion seed.

  CHAPTER 14

  Lady Mother,

  I hope this message finds you well, and the Seni also. It should be the fullness of spring by now, something I envy; the cold here is wetter than I expected. I have bought a coat. I know you will ask.

  My studies are fascinating, and the Alliance is… much as I expect you know it is. I am learning a great deal, and only a part of it involves what I am being formally taught. I suspect this is why you did not object to my leaving. If it is not too uncouth to ask… am I right?

  I am still receiving your stipend, for which I thank you. It is, however, overmuch, and could more profitably be kept back to use on our lands. My needs here are few and I fulfill most of them myself in a way I suspect would scandalize the household.

  With tender regards,

  Your son

  Jahir

>   The day of the outing dawned warm, as promised. In the morning, then, while the children still had energy, they arrived at the hospital and were directed to the Pad room to wait. Vasiht’h flexed his toes and asked his roommate, “Are you nervous?”

  “About something befalling them?” Jahir asked.

  The fur along Vasiht’h’s back fluffed up. “Ugh, that too. But I was thinking more about meeting their guardians finally.”

  “I admit that part had not occurred to me as something worthy of anxiety,” Jahir said. “I suggest a trade. You worry about the parents, I worry about the children.”

  Vasiht’h found himself grinning. “Then who’s going to worry about the nurses?” And at the Eldritch’s expression, laughed. “Hah, got you.”

  “We’ll have to split them between the two of us,” Jahir said as the first people spilled into the room. The children first, gleeful, wrapped up in long coats—even a warm day in winter was more comfortable in layers—and then their many guardians. Vasiht’h did not have time to dwell on his anxieties, because from that point on there was a stream of introductions: each girl wanted to tell the adults attached to her all about the Eldritch prince and the dancing manylegs Glaseah. It became a blur: “Glad to meet you, yes I volunteer here, oh you’ve heard about me,” but soon enough Jill was wading into it calling for everyone’s attention… and then they were filing across the Pad and into the cool bright morning. A quiet one: it was morning in the middle of up-week, just after midterms, and many of the street’s usual pedestrians were in their classes or studios.

  What a sight they must be, Vasiht’h thought, padding alongside Amaranth and her mother and father. This procession of six girls, to have spawned a trail of almost twenty adults, all hovering around them protectively. And yet… it was worth it.

  “It’s such a pretty day out!” Amaranth said to him. “And the air smells good. And a little like—”

  “ICE CREAM!” Meekie squealed.

  “Did Hea Jill not tell you where we were going?” Vasiht’h asked.

  “No!” Amaranth exclaimed, bouncing once on her feet. “No! Oh wow, ice cream!”