Jeff gave him a curt, satisfied nod and a hearty clout on the shoulder. The Denebian never learned the non-tactile etiquette of Talents, but somehow, such familiarity from Jeff never offended. “Good! It’s settled, then. Now, tell me, what do you know of babies?”
It turned out that Afra knew quite a lot about babies, having dealt with his sister’s children on several occasions and having even minded the Ackerman kids when Brian and his wife needed a night off.
At the end of their chat, Jeff sighed deeply. “You will let me know if the Rowan’s keeping something from me, won’t you?”
“Are you going somewhere?” Afra asked, startled.
“Yes, hadn’t you heard?” Jeff’s attitude was ingenuous surprise. “Apparently Reidinger’s decided to get his own back by making me a sort of roving Prime.” He drew up to his full height and made a mock bow.
Afra laughed. “Remember when the Rowan told you Reidinger’d take it out of your hide?”
Jeff shrugged, his expression comical. “For a worthy cause.” Then he winked, his expression turning slightly malicious. “He might as well make use of my ability to travel. I’m the only Prime who can zip about as it pleases me.”
“Why don’t you challenge Reidinger to travel now that we all know that Siglen imposed the neurosis?”
Jeff gave Afra a long, hard look, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really should, shouldn’t I? The old, sly geezer. He’d probably growl something about teaching old dogs new tricks.”
“I think,” Afra said in a slow, thoughtful tone, “that I’m just as glad Reidinger can’t. His mental bark is bad enough! I’d hate to know he could ’port wherever he wished and chew me out face-to-face.”
Jeff cocked one eyebrow and grinned with deliberate malice. “Oh, well, you could always bull your way through.”
Afra blinked, gawked, and then burst out laughing at Jeff’s sly reminder.
“And he still has both bull and cow on his desk,” Jeff added. “I think if you had to, you’d give as good as you got. Another reason why we want you as l.p. for our son. Say, you can’t, by any chance, hear the baby, can you?”
“No.” Afra’s response was definite and a little bit sad.
* * *
The birth of Jeran Raven was a cause for joyous celebration throughout Callisto Station and beyond. Everyone under the domes heard the healthy mental cry of the baby as it was born, and the communal welcome added to the gentle ambience from the three adults present at the delivery. Attentive Primes also heard it; Afra had to carefully supervise the removal of kilos and kilos of rare flowers sent by an ecstatic Peter Reidinger to the Gwyn-Raven quarters. The arrival of floral offerings almost undid the careful schedule Afra and Brian had worked out to keep Callisto operating with a reduced workload while their Prime had limited capability.
Afra was working late, catching up on the rescheduling when the door buzzer to his quarters rang. “Come!”
He rose and strode to greet his guest at the door. It was Jeff’s mother, Isthia Raven. Afra had seen her about the Station during the last days of the Rowan’s confinement but had purposely not intruded upon her.
“You have not come to see the child, Afra Lyon,” Isthia began immediately.
“I’ve been busy and had no wish to disturb him or his parents.” Afra hesitated slightly, not certain how to address this blue-eyed lady with a cap of crisp, black curls.
“You may certainly call me Isthia.” Afra inclined his head. “Rowan told me about you, how closely you work together.” She looked at him keenly. “Are you afraid of newborns, then?”
Afra laughed. “Hardly. When would it be convenient for me to come? Rowan seems to need a lot of rest these days.”
“She does, but you are always welcome. Come this afternoon and get it over with.”
“I scarcely consider it an obligation to be ‘got over,’” Afra said.
Isthia gave him another of her searching looks. “No, I don’t think you would. But you are down as loco parentis and you haven’t so much as cast an eyeball over my grandson. Yet you and the Rowan have been very close.”
“Not,” and Afra felt it advisable to reassure her on that score, “as close as she and Jeff, if that is what you’re worried about.”
Isthia regarded him with wide-eyed surprise. “I’m not the least worried about it now that we’ve met, for it is quite plain to me that you are an honorable person.” Afra gave a slightly impudent bow, which she dismissed with an irritated wave. “Are all Capellans so inhibited?”
“All Capellans are raised to be courteous under any conditions.”
Isthia gave a bark of laughter. “Good shot. We Denebians tend to speak our minds.”
“I’d noticed. It makes a nice change.”
“Well, I can see why the Rowan and Jeff rely so much on you. I just wanted to be certain, myself, that you’d be suitable as a default parent.”
“Is that what all this is about?”
“Of course,” Isthia replied stoutly. “I like a man who doesn’t balk at taking difficult paths or walking tightropes. But you could be easier on yourself now and then.”
Mildly surprised at the line this conversation was taking, Afra looked at her quizzically.
“Don’t try that on me, young man,” Isthia commanded, eyes twinkling to remove the sting. “You must come to Deneb some time. Let your mind rest from your very strenuous labors.”
“It would be my pleasure. Yours must be a fascinating world to develop such amazing Talents.”
“Develop Talent? Oh, I suppose so.”
Afra was nonplussed by her casual dismissal. He sensed that she had considerable Talent herself, though Jeff had never mentioned that she’d been tested. If her attitude was indicative of the general population, it was no wonder Jeff and Rowan worried about Jeran’s potential Talent.
“Come to think on it,” and Isthia’s expression altered suddenly to that curious blankness that Afra had been taught heralded a precognitive episode, “you will come to Deneb . . .” She hesitated as her eyes, suddenly clouded, rested unseeing on his face. A chill raised gooseflesh on his arms. “. . . to rest your mind and renew life.” Abruptly she shook her head, eyes clearly blue again. “Did I go off just then?”
“I didn’t notice anything,” Afra said smoothly, as much because of her earlier dismissal of Talent, as because her clairvoyancy genuinely had startled him. He felt uncomfortable with such cryptic talk. “May I offer you refreshment?”
“That would be very pleasant. You don’t happen to have tea, do you?” she asked wistfully.
“China or Indian?”
“Indian,” she said, a hopeful smile on her face.
“Earl Grey or Darjeeling?”
“Darjeeling,” she replied with happy relief. “Marvelous institution, tea. A man who serves tea is certain to be an asset to the Raven Clan.”
“I beg pardon?”
“Well, you did agree to stand in loco parentis for Jeran, so you are, in effect, bound to the Raven clan.”
Afra was puzzled but caused the kettle to boil before he looked back at Jeff Raven’s indomitable mother. “If this is some form of ritual bonding . . .” Some pioneer planets had revived rather barbaric customs.
“No, no ritual. Just acknowledgment of fact,” Isthia responded. The kettle whistled.
Tea making, on the other hand, did require certain minor rituals which Afra dutifully observed, patently to Isthia Raven’s delight. And for the rest of the visit they exchanged pleasantries.
Afra found himself waxing effusive in the presence of this remarkable woman and was genuinely unhappy when she took her leave.
“Oh, we’ll talk again, Afra.” She warned him. Be certain of it! “And when are you coming to visit your new responsibility? Not to mention his mother. She’s fretting that her maternity is repulsive to you.”
Never! The response flew out of Afra before he could control the impulse.
Isthia merely smiled. “She’ll be glad to hea
r that.”
* * *
Jeff Raven insisted on helping Afra and the Callisto Station whenever he was available while the Rowan was on maternity leave. However, she became quite agitated when he protested her return to the Tower a scant ten days after her labor.
Arrgh! It was my body that strained, not my mind! she said in a fine fume over his protests. Men!
With Jeran not yet established on a regular sleeping cycle, the Rowan was apt to tire easily or be forgetful. It was a “memorable” period, as Isthia later commented. Afra and Isthia spent much time together, volunteering for baby detail, merely chatting or playing bridge with the Ackermans, a game which both Afra and Isthia had missed sorely in the past.
Jeff was surprised when Reidinger summoned him to Earth for a conference.
“Why can’t he just ’path me?” Raven complained to Afra when the formal message was received.
“I suspect he has his reasons,” Afra responded soothingly, expression carefully neutral. “Do be sure to say hello to Gollee when you’re down there.”
“And Luciano! Ye gods! What food!” Jeff licked his lips in anticipation. “Be certain I will!”
Hours later he returned. You knew! Jeff swore at him.
Reidinger is one hundred and ten, you’ve been trained on Tower procedures, you work like a maniac, you know every Prime there is, I thought it rather obvious. It was just a question of timing was Afra’s phlegmatic reply.
You didn’t tell her, did you? Jeff asked with some alarm.
Of course not! There are certain surprises that must be personally delivered, Afra replied in a pointed reminder of the knowledge of the Rowan’s pregnancy.
“Good! I can’t wait to see her face!” And Jeff jumped to the Rowan’s quarters to spread the glad word.
Brian Ackerman had watched the whole exchange from a considerate distance, but his curiosity overwhelmed when the Raven departed.
“What was that all about?” he asked. Afra shrugged noncommittally. “Good news?”
Earth Prime! The mental seepage from the Rowan’s mental exultation vibrated through every mind on the Station.
“You could say that,” Afra said with a slight smirk.
Then Brian added thoughtfully, “You know, the Rowan usually shields and we’ve not had much ‘noise’ from young Master Jeran since he sleeps most of the time. But hadn’t we better get the bright boys working on a way to shield infantile babble emanating from the Rowan’s place?”
Ackerman took on an abstracted look which turned puzzled.
“He’s not loud enough to worry about. Oh, yes, she’s not likely to stop with just one, is she? I remember her telling me she wanted a large family. Of course, she may change her mind. My wife did, but, yeah, maybe we ought to look into the problem before it becomes one.” Ackerman jotted a quick note down on his ever-present pad.
* * *
Six months and two days later, late one night as Afra was just about to give up on an intricate origami dinosaur he had been trying to create for young Jeran, his buzzer beeped.
“Come!” he called, half-irritated, half-relieved at the distraction.
It was Brian Ackerman. Afra greeted him with a ready smile. “You’re here to tell me they’ve got the mental shielding prepared?” Afra asked suavely as he passed a cup of soothing tea to the graying Ackerman.
Ackerman looked startled. “No, I was saving that for tomorrow,” he allowed with a groan. “Jeff Raven asked me to drop by.”
“Whatever for?”
“Well, he should be—” The door chime interrupted him.
Jeff Raven apologized profusely to the two men for such a late night meeting. “It’s the only time I can be sure she isn’t listening in.”
“Why?” Afra asked carefully.
Jeff raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve something to ask you and it’s difficult to leave her, what with the way she’s been acting lately. She’s asleep right now with Jeran on her lap.”
“So?” Afra refused to be drawn. “The way she’s been acting and her sleepiness are perfectly normal, you know.”
“I wasn’t talking about . . .” Jeff gave Afra a second keen glance. “Oh, no! It’s much too soon.”
“That isn’t why you’re here?” Afra asked, annoyed with himself for assuming the reason for Jeff’s visit.
“Not exactly, but I’ll take the bad with the good. Well, is she or isn’t she? And cut that guff about there being some things that are announced privately!”
“Well . . .” But Afra felt Jeff reach for the truth.
“One day I’m going to throttle my mother.”
“Isthia?” Brian asked apprehensively, for he respected the woman and knew that Jeff did.
“My mother’s been filling my wife with some nonsense about sibling bonding. It was why Mother insisted on freshening every year.” Jeff did not approve of either theory or practice. “Is it a boy or girl, Afra?”
“A girl.”
“So she figured out how to achieve that, too?” Conflicting emotions of exasperation and respect crossed Jeff’s mobile face. Then his expression altered to worry. “What I came to discuss with you is a very private ’path I had from my mother. She wants me to come to Deneb to check out an unusual happening. She thought she felt something, a presence.”
“Wasn’t the Rowan fretting about some malign presence just before she gave birth to Jeran?” Afra inquired.
Jeff nodded. “She, my mother, and Elizara. Mother thinks she’s experienced the same phenomenon again.” Jeff shook his head. “I got no glimmer.”
“How can we help?” Brian asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeff replied worriedly. “But I felt I’d better put you on the alert. My mother’s not one to cry ‘wolf’ even if she hasn’t fine-tuned her Talent yet. Only women on Deneb have caught the trace of whatever it is. Considering the Rowan’s sensitivity, she might just get another jolt from it. That’s why Isthia warned me. So let me know. We all know that that woman of mine can go off half-cocked from time to time, and pregnant women are notorious for it.”
The other two men exchanged looks so pained that Jeff Raven laughed. “Just restrain her from doing something impetuous right now—especially now—but I’ve got to get back to work.”
“You’ll be on Earth, won’t you?” Ackerman wondered.
“Maybe. It’s hard to tell. I’ve been doing a lot of hopping about in my role as heir apparent.” He looked gratefully at the Capellan. “It was most shrewd of you to have me work with Gollee Gren before this was announced; we make a great team.”
Ackerman nodded knowledgeably. “He doesn’t talk much but he hears a lot, this Capellan Lyon of ours.”
Jeff slapped his knees and rose from the couch. “So, do I have your word?”
“Certainly,” Ackerman said affably, rising also.
Afra was more hesitant. “There are some secrets best left with their owners.”
Jeff inclined his head in respect of the sentiment. “I’ll trust your judgment, Afra.”
* * *
Jeff’s presentiment was accurate. Barely a week had passed before the Rowan presented herself to her second-in-command and the stationmaster requiring teleportage to Deneb.
Ackerman took the lead. “Now, look, Rowan, Mauli will do anything you ask, but I’m damned if Afra and I will take the responsibility for you two, and Jeran, haring off to Deneb without at least checking with Jeff.”
Despite the Rowan’s threats, the two were adamant that she check with her husband first. In a huff the Rowan did so. Brian Ackerman wondered if he’d been set up for a quick game of “good cop, bad cop” when Raven, dutifully informed, acceded to her request. He caught a hint of amusement beneath the Capellan’s cool exterior.
“Why’d she take Mauli and not Mick as well?” Brian grumbled as the generators wound down from the kick they had imparted to push the Rowan and crew out to Deneb.
“Mauli’s female,” Afra said, adding when Brian almost snarled at him, “Reme
mber that Jeff said the trace Isthia heard was only audible to women. And it may well be that Mauli’s unique echo ability will give the Rowan greater range in hearing whatever it is that’s traceable.”
“A sex-linked calling?” Ackerman was dubious.
“It is possible,” Afra replied, adding subliminal images of maternal instincts.
“Like Jeff said, Isthia doesn’t call ‘wolf.’” Brian wasn’t too happy.
Afra shook his head. “No. I’d be happier if it was a wolf.” He turned away, heading off toward his quarters.
“Where are you going?” Ackerman wanted to know.
“To rest,” Afra called over his shoulder. “I rather think we’ll need it.”
He was right. The next day the Rowan was back, but Jeff Raven was off cajoling and collecting Fleet scouts to assess the threat that the Rowan, Mauli, and the other sensitive women on the planet had “heard” approaching Deneb. Jeff, risking his life in a little scout vessel, made a visual contact with an alien spaceship. That was sufficient for the Rowan to put Callisto Station on Yellow Alert. With his urging and the support of Mick and Brian Ackerman, Afra unconditionally informed the Rowan that he would be watching and listening if she would take a much needed rest.
Several hours later, Jeff Raven’s explosive mental WOW! went through the Station like a bolt of lightning. Afra and Ackerman discreetly listened in on the ensuing conversation with the Rowan, who had been roused by the cry. Jeff could now report that what the Rowan had named “Leviathan”—the huge and very alien ship carved out of an immense asteroid—was on direct course to Deneb and that the intent of its “Many” mind was nothing less than the conquest of Deneb VIII and perhaps as much as the destruction of the human species altogether.
Afra interjected a comment once in the telepathic conversation, not only to make a well-considered point but also to assure himself that he could “reach” Jeff at that distance.
The Rowan quite rightly insisted on going out to the threatened planet, where she could focus and merge all local Talents should such a measure be needed. Afra left unspoken his concerns for Jeran; such a psychic storm would have untold ill-effects on the young mind. The Rowan apparently had no fear for herself at all. Afra need not have worried: Reidinger absolutely prohibited it, reminding the Rowan of the dangers, pointing out that her quarters were the only ones currently shielded against psionic backlash (Brian had managed that without even telling Afra). So Afra exercised his right of loco parentis for Jeran much sooner than he ever expected to.
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