The Alliance

by David Andrews

  At his insistence, they stood at the balcony of the roof garden, acknowledging the cheers from below, which doubled when he mimed kneeling before her and proposing. Trapped into responding, she could do nothing but nod vigorously, threatening him with dire consequences privately as she kissed him publicly.

  The aftermath, in his bedroom, was everything she ever dreamed of, and only the beginning of forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kayelle

  Kayelle was hallucinating on the eve of the most significant moment of her life. Tomorrow, her great grandfather, the Southern Tetrarch, would name her Adept, raising her to his social equal, part of the ruling elite of Viridia. Yet she experienced the impossible. She closed her eyes to banish the illusion.

  When she opened them, the stranger was still there.

  “Who are you?”

  “Jean-Paul.”

  Taller than her, his eyes startlingly blue, a color unknown in Viridia, his mind should have been open to her—they were not naming her Adept without reason.

  It wasn’t.

  She’d been walking along the corridor toward the Naming Room with its grand balcony opening onto the Great Square and had stepped from a hard floor to a soft surface that felt strangely insubstantial, as if her mind had not yet defined it.

  “A good analogy,” he said. “Everybody experiences it a little differently.

  Kayelle started. Mind contact was always two-way. If the stranger, Jean-Paul closed his mind, the barrier should be complete…and it wasn’t.

  “Our abilities developed differently because our cultures are different. It makes communication deliberate. I’ve had the opportunity to study yours. To you, mine is foreign. Think of it as two people conversing, only one bilingual. My thoughts are in a language you can’t understand.”

  She sensed his goodwill and nodded reluctantly. Apart from the odd-colored eyes, his appearance was pleasant, non-threatening. Physically older, somewhere in his late twenties, she guessed, although, as an obvious Adept, this was probably deceiving. He may have imprinted himself early. The naming ceremony would fix her physical age at twenty-two for as long as she lived, unless she decided to allow it to change, physical aging to another imprinting. Few ever did, achieving Adept status took too long. She would be the youngest in history.

  “We reach that stage in the womb. I sensed my parents before I was born.” Jean-Paul smiled at a memory.

  “Did they sense you?”

  “Yes.”

  She liked the way he said it. Another might have highlighted her ignorance. Jean-Paul considered he was answering an intelligent question.

  “Why am I here?”

  He’d admitted to studying her culture. This meant he’d been around undetected for a while, something she’d have considered impossible without the present demonstration. It was unlikely he’d revealed himself without purpose.

  “You have a problem. I can help.” He shared his mind picture of the epidemics now raging through the Non-Adept, killing thousands.

  “How?”

  “Your imprinting ritual protects the Adept by correcting the changes in your DNA.” The term was foreign, but the concept of the life pattern familiar. “Your best brains strive for Adept status so healing remains locked in myth and herbalist lore.” He used another strange term here; ‘Medicine’, but she understood his meaning. “Some of the artifacts you took from the crashed ship were weapons and your crude experiments triggered them, releasing diseases to which you have no immunity. Left unchecked, they will wipe out the Non-Adept and then whittle away any of you who become careless.”

  “Weapons?” She had no matching concept.

  She really liked his smile. It made her feel warm inside. He was undoubtedly projecting, or allowing her to sense, the accompanying emotion of admiration for innocence, but the smile was a thing of itself.

  “The people in the ship were not good. They took without permission, subduing those who stood against them without regard for anything other than their desire for wealth.” He was having trouble expressing concepts she found foreign and she wondered why he didn’t use a mind picture, as he did with the epidemics.

  “Such a mind picture would contain too many things you wouldn’t understand,” he said, additional proof she was open to him.

  She nodded reluctantly. “These weapons were the means to subdue their victims.”

  “Yes. They contained diseases you haven’t encountered and have no developed immunity. The people in the ship were inoculated and could move freely through the sick, taking what they wanted.”

  She sensed uncompleted concepts in his words.

  “Sometimes, they just waited until everyone was dead and the disease died for the lack of hosts.”

  His distaste for these people leaked through the shielding of his thoughts. There was no anger in it, pity, compassion, abhorrence of the deeds, but no anger. It was an attitude she’d never encountered, even in her great grandfather.

  “I’m glad they all died.”

  “Death solves nothing. Wish it on no one.” His tone sounded bleak. She’d disappointed him.

  It made her shiver. There was power in this man. She felt it.

  “How do we counter this weapon and save my people?”

  Her question made him smile. “Which people, Adept or Non-Adept?”

  “All. They are all my people.”

  “Few Adepts would answer that way. They’ve stood back for centuries, celebrating their difference and ignoring their responsibilities.” He wasn’t condemning. It was an observation of fact.

  “Are your people any better?” He spoke as one equal to the Adept, which meant he, too, was an immortal.

  “My family is. The others are learning.” He didn’t waste words, more used to the clarity of mind contact, she supposed.

  “Why are you doing this?” She already guessed his answer, but she wanted to hear him say it.

  “Because I can.”

  She smiled. She understood the unspoken corollary. Because he could, he must. Yet, this was not a man to act without thought. She couldn’t imagine him following some futile quest. He’d calculated result against effort and had a plan maximize the former.

  “How?” She must earn his respect, if they were to continue.

  “Do you trust me?”

  It was a deceptively simple question about a complex issue. Kayelle, as a fully functional telepath, was not required to trust. She knew. Until this moment, she’d believed any mental communication must carry absolute verity…that she could not lie to another telepath and still communicate because it involved mind sharing, which left no areas in her mind concealed. This didn’t apply to Jean-Paul. He’d proved he could scan her thoughts without opening his mind, so he could lie to her and her only defense would be logic.

  “That’s true,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

  The power she sensed in him increased the risk. Trusting someone who could do no harm was easy. She felt certain he had the power to do immense harm, not only to her, but also to her entire race. Did she dare trust her judgment of his character?

  He could have deliberately fooled her, using his reading of her thoughts to guide them into the paths he chose…. It wasn’t fair.

  “The Non-Adepts have to live with this everyday of their lives,” he said. “Have you ever considered it unfair to them?”

  “You’re enjoying this.”

  He smiled. “I suspect I am,” he said. “You’re a delightful companion.”

  She fought down the surge of pleasure. He played with her, like a kitten with its first mouse, unwilling to end the game too soon.

  “You can end it any moment you chose by saying yes or no.”

  Kayelle took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure whether she trusted him, but her instincts said, yes, and she trusted them. “Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”

  “Close your eyes. It will be easier.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kayelle felt tired. No day lasted long
enough while patients still died. She wanted to save every one of them and it was hard to feel them slip away. Death was the ultimate cheat. It left everything unanswered.

  “You must rest, Kayelle,” her great grandfather spoke. “Let others bear the burden for a while.”

  She felt the odd mixture of pride and bafflement in his mind. He was the Southern Tetrarch. Her work with sick and dying benefited his regime, raising his status because the other three Tetrarchs sent healers to study under Kayelle, learning from her insights into the diseases ravaging their lands. Yet, he couldn’t understand his great granddaughter’s desire to involve herself in the affairs of the Non-Adepts. It was enough to him to rule fairly. This was the role of the Adepts, not nursing the sick.

  “Another hour,” she said. “I’ll rest then.”

  “Remember to imprint yourself. I can tell you forgot yesterday.”

  Kayelle tried to remember. It was hard. She felt so tired. “I will,” she promised. “As soon as I finish.”

  She could feel his doubt, but he left her and she turned to the child in the next bed, setting her mind to scan the small body and repair the damage caused by the disease. Were it not for the inoculations, the little girl would be dead by now. The diseases mutated faster than she could find cures. What triggered the mutations?

  Her headache had grown worse. She must stop soon and deal with it. Four more beds would finish this ward and she’d take a break. She finished the scan, nudged a gland or two into greater activity so the child would heal naturally and straightened. Her back protested and she had to force the movement. Her vision blurred with the effort. They should turn down the heating. The room felt like a furnace. A hand touched her arm and she turned. A bright light hurt her eyes and she closed them for a second and felt herself falling…

  * * * *

  Jean-Paul sat at her bedside smiling. He’d repaired the damage her carelessness did, cleansed the residue of the infection and she’d wake up refreshed. She was so wonderfully young, full of wild mood swings and youthful exuberance. He should have kept a closer eye on her, made sure she had enough help. As it was, she’d tried to do everything and worn herself out in the attempt, growing careless with the protecting imprints and the disease had gained a foothold.

  Part of his mind monitored his surroundings. He’d have plenty of time to slip back into Limbo if anyone came—or she began to wake. He’d manipulated her mind into remembering him only as a dream she’d had on the night before they named her Adept, and he didn’t want to introduce any fresh memories. It might trigger flashbacks.

  The ideas he’d introduced to her mind had borne magnificent fruit. Single-handedly, she’d lifted Viridian medicine to a level capable of saving the Non-Adept population from extinction. More importantly, she’d introduced the concept of noblesse oblige to the Adept’s born to rule mentality. It would take time, but she was a shining example to those struggling to attain Adept status. He would have to monitor her more closely to ensure she survived long enough. For the moment, he’d spent enough time with the worst of her patients to ensure she had a breathing space.

  She stirred as a fold in the sheet beneath her caused a small discomfort and triggered an unknowing reaction. He reached down and twitched the sheet straight, his face close to hers. The kiss was almost an accident, an impulse that surprised him. Her lips felt soft and her breath sweet, but only his imagination supplied the response.

  “Whoa there,” he warned himself, the words barely audible. “Don’t get carried away. She’s a child.”

  A very beautiful child, he thought. Lustrous hair, so black it looked blue in the soft light of the bedside lamp, perfect olive skin, and features so classic she could have been a statue of Aphrodite herself brought to vivid life.

  His father had insisted he travel extensively on the Earth before exploring the rest of the galaxy and he knew the reason. Peter still feared this reality was the creation of his mind to escape death and wanted Jean-Paul to look for links.

  They were there.

  Kayelle could easily have come from the sub-continent called India. Her beauty would grace any Bollywood production without seeming out of place. Viridia itself had its roots in the English word for green, describing aptly a land with its waters scattered in the form of large lakes connected by great watercourses and man-made canals. There were extensive plains, but few deserts. Because of easy waterborne transport, its population was largely homogenous, common racial characteristics everywhere, either due to a common stock or ceaseless intermarriage over countless millennia. The Diaspora from Earth had achieved the same result on the scout ships and only the advent of instantaneous travel through a non-physical space had reintroduced large variations from the planets settled early.

  His report had saddened Peter, increasing the fear he hid so successfully from the others—only Karrel shared it. Yet, Jean-Paul thought otherwise. There were a hundred possible explanations for the commonality of humanity throughout this galaxy and exploring them would take valuable time away from more tasks Peter thought more urgent. Let him look into it when he stopped fighting spot fires caused by the Federation’s greed.

  An attendant approached and Jean-Paul stepped back into Limbo. Kayelle was safe now.

  Limbo had many strange powers, not the least of which was the portals. There were hundreds, perhaps even thousands now, each once created by one of the family in their travels, each one still accessible. He’d created a dozen or more into this world since he discovered their development of telepathic powers, and had used their imprinting technique to give Rachael, now Jack’s wife, a life span to match her husband’s.

  Peter was wary of introducing the idea of Limbo to the Viridians and this suited Jean-Paul. He had no urge to manipulate the Viridians once this current emergency passed.

  * * * *

  She woke naturally, awareness creeping up on her rather than arriving full-blown. Her headache was gone and her body felt rested and supple again.

  “Good morning. You gave us a fright,” Dandi, the healer sent by the Northern Tetrarch spoke. Older than her, but a willing learner, his motives had little to do with healing.

  “Good morning.” The room felt empty, echoing, as if someone had just left. She looked around, searching for what was missing.

  “The Tetrarch will want to know you’ve recovered,” Dandi said. “Would you like me to do it?”

  “He’s been here.” It was a possible explanation of the empty room around her.

  “No.”

  “Please tell him I’m awake.”

  Mind sharing was best face to face. It improved focus. There were rare Adepts who could do it without this aid and they needed a strong personal bond to achieve it. She didn’t have this with her great grandfather. She could with her mother, but not her father.

  “I’ll go now.” Dandi waited for permission.

  “Yes.” She suppressed a sigh at his need for permission.

  He left her and Kayelle rose cautiously to dress. She wasn’t an invalid, to greet the Tetrarch from her bed.

  Why were all the powerful men fools? Even her great grandfather seldom challenged accepted practices. Somewhere in her mind lay the picture of a man of power whose intelligence shone like a beacon. One day she’d find him and the sparks would fly.

  “Kayelle. I was on my way to see you.” The Tetrarch entered without knocking. “How are you?”

  Fortunately, she’d finished dressing, so Kayelle could pay him the proper homage of a curtsey. “I am well, Tetrarch. Ready to resume my duties.”

  “I can see you are well, child. Will your duties not wait for another day? It is the gathering.”

  Kayelle blinked. She’d lost a day if the annual face-to-face meeting of the four Tetrarchs was now.

  “Am I needed there?” she asked, the missing day left her with much to do.

  “Two Adept have died in the East, one in the North, and one in the West. You nearly died here. You are the only one to fall ill and survive. We nee
d your knowledge.”

  “I will remain,” Dandi said, stepping around the Tetrarch. “There have been no deaths in the last thirty-six hours. My small skills will suffice.”

  She blinked again, at both the confirmation she had slept more than a day and the lack of deaths. Perhaps, they’d turned the corner. “Thank you, Dandi,” she said and turned to the Tetrarch. “I am at your disposal.”

  “We will walk together.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement; three thousand years had set his gravitas in stone.

  From some corner of her mind came the question. “Three thousand years…or one year repeated three thousand times.” She disciplined herself not to smile. Her great grandfather would not be amused, especially as there was more than a hint of truth in it. He was old, not just in years, and didn’t like change.

  The Tetrarch walked ponderously, as if part of a ritual procession, and Kayelle forced herself to match his pace. “Have the others arrived?”

  “Yes. Their Ships of State docked early this morning.”

  The four Tetrarchs lived close to facilitate mind contact, their capitals on the corners of the cruciform of the two great waterways dividing their lands, forming the four great land masses of Viridia. The Ships of State were an affectation not a necessity, giant galleys, propelled by banks of oars, another ritual glorification of Adept status.

  Why did she stand outside her class, observing them dispassionately? She’d never sensed the emotion in another Adept. Even the Non-Adept didn’t see them as she did.

  Non-Adept.

  The word made her cringe, as if not reaching telepathic communication was a personal failure and not a genetic accident. They might as well choose the distance between an individual’s eyes to define status.

  She could feel her companion’s mind preparing for the ritual greeting that opened the gathering. Originally designed to bond the four Tetrarchs and strengthen their ability to communicate telepathically across the distances separating their capitals, it had become a vehicle for impressing the Non-Adept with the majesty of their rulers. At its heart was the extension of the simple parlor trick of several Adepts standing around an object and using telepathy to build a composite picture in each mind, all details revealed. The exercise focused the minds, increasing their ability to communicate at a distance. This might have been the intention centuries ago, now it was just pomp and circumstance.