My hands swept up in a gesture I could no more prevent than I could understand. I clasped the offending members together tightly, avoiding Morgan’s eyes. “I wish I knew why I do that,” I said with deep-felt bitterness.
“It won’t be long before we both do, Sira,” Morgan reassured me as he stood in turn. “Go and rest for a while. Put all this out of your mind. I’ll finish up here.”
I nodded gratefully and made my way around the tables to leave the galley. Morgan’s thoughtful gaze followed me. He spoke just as I reached the doorway and raised my hand to knock. “You aren’t facing this alone, Sira.”
A real smile eased the tightness of my face. I stopped and looked back at his still form. “Wasn’t it last night you promised me a night at Sas’qaat’s tables after all this, Captain?”
“We’ll bankrupt the old fish. Rest. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” With that promise, I went to my cabin, totally unable to explain to myself why I was humming.
Chapter 20
MORGAN’S plan was simple enough. The
Torquad
would go on its programmed journey to Yihtor; we wouldn’t. When the insystem approach alarm sounded— causing me to jump half out of my skin—we made our way to the
Torquad
’s escape pods. The two pirates were left locked up below.
The pods were designed to seek a safe landing spot. Huido had disabled their distress beacons; on Acranam, they were unlikely to attract true rescue. A great deal was left to chance, but at least we weren’t walking directly into Yihtor’s hands. We were buying time.
“Do you have room for all that?” I was admonishing Huido when Morgan came up to us.
“Must you?” Morgan said dryly, a brow raised at the bottles being stowed carefully in the Carasian’s pod.
Huido was unrepentant. “You get your nutrients your way. I prefer mine. Besides, you’ll have Sira for company. If I get stuck atop some mountain with only this pea-sized ship brain to talk to, I’ll die of boredom.” The last bottle of the pirates’ beer aboard, the Carasian turned to his friend. “Time to go.”
Morgan nodded silently. Then he stretched his hand up so Huido could grasp it in his jaws. They maintained this position for a long moment, Huido’s eyes intent on the serious face of his friend. I glanced down at the deck.
A huge arm swept me against what felt like the side of a groundcar in a bruising hug. “Take care of him, Sira. He blunders into trouble every time I leave him on his own!” After this farewell, Huido somehow managed to maneuver his bulk through a portal meant for smaller creatures. It was fortunate his arms were jointed in several locations. Morgan sealed the door and turned to me.
“Our turn. I want to launch simultaneously.” He paused and grinned. “Be a shame if Huido took all that beer to the top of a mountain without us!”
I refrained from comment. My recent experience with Huido’s drinking habits was not one I planned to repeat soon. I followed Morgan into our pod. There was little room to move among the supplies Morgan had insisted on taking, but room wasn’t necessary. Nor was a pilot, for the tiny ship had no accessible controls. Passengers awaited their fate bundled in tight, protective bags. I tried to hide my sudden claustrophobia from Morgan. It was a useless exercise. He tightened my straps and stood looking down at me. “Nervous?”
I surveyed my imprisoned body with acute distaste. “More like gift-wrapped.”
“May I?” Morgan asked softly, fingers feather-light on my forehead. A moment of frozen indecision, then I threw away my false pride and lowered all barriers. A whisper of my name. A reassuring warmth. Then I was led into a deep sleep.
“Sira. Wake up, Sira.” I could ignore the gentle call, but not the hand trying to shake my arm free of my shoulder. Muttering various dark things to myself, I opened my eyes sluggishly to peer at Morgan. He grinned, and tugged at my fastenings again. “Welcome to Acranam, sleepyhead. I’ll admit you didn’t miss much as far as our landing was concerned.”
I fought my way out of the bag with his help. It was difficult to stand and our carefully stowed gear had shifted to dangle overhead. Morgan began to tap the clips from the portal one at a time. “We’re upside-down.” I noticed. “Does this happen often?”
“Wouldn’t know,” Morgan grunted over his shoulder, muscles straining the fabric of his coveralls as he fought the stubborn door. “I’ve never had to use one of these things before. Hand me that, please.”
“Is Huido down safely?” I passed Morgan the tool he indicated, trying to keep out of his way, a difficult process in the tiny space.
“Don’t know. Ah,” a satisfied sound as the door fell open. “With any luck, he should be outside—” Morgan’s voice became muffled as his head and shoulders disappeared through the hole. A scrambling and the rest of him followed.
Stay inside.
I scowled at the message in my head. Surely a peek wasn’t risky. Handholds had conveniently been placed around the total circumference of the door. I pulled myself up until I could see outside.
“You might as well come, then,” Morgan reached down and hauled me up with one easy motion to stand beside him. The tiny pod was half-buried in soft earth, a dark scar in the green leaf litter marking an earlier bounce that had just missed a massive tree.
Tree? It was more like a mountain. The trunk was formed of huge buttresses that writhed and joined together at a point far above our heads. No sky could be seen through the dense canopy of its branches, although enough light filtered through to dapple the forest floor. I turned slowly, drinking in the sight, admiring the clusters of pale flower buds hanging on every bare section of branch. Other giant trees formed widely spaced pillars, bearing their living roof over the silent mossy turf. The air was warm, soil-scented, and still.
I slipped down from the pod and took a step. The ground was springy and colored in dull browns and greens by the moss and fallen leaves. “It’s lovely!” I exclaimed whirling around. Somehow I had never thought of our destination as a real place in its own right.
“No sign of the other pod.” Morgan climbed down from his vantage point atop the little ship. “Not that Huido mightn’t be just around the corner. With all this vegetation, we could easily miss each other.”
“Can we contact him?”
Morgan didn’t answer immediately. He picked a tendril of moss from the ground near his feet and twirled it slowly. “Carasians can’t be read by humanoid telepaths. Or so I’ve been told.”
I eyed him quizzically. “You don’t sound convinced. Why? Have you tried to reach Huido mentally before?”
Morgan shook his head. “It’s not something you try— not unless asked.” A quick look at me. “Or if there’s great need. The occasion never arose before. But Huido and I are very close.” A shrug. “Sometimes I’ve felt I sensed his presence. If this thing was less automated, I could rig a usable com-link.” Morgan glared at the innocent escape pod.
I’d felt oddly free once we were out of the ship. The forest was peaceful and welcoming. I wasn’t surprised by the memory that now floated easily into mind. “Think of him,” I heard myself say with unaccustomed confidence. I moved to stand behind Morgan, reaching my hands to almost touch the back of his head.
“Think of the special caress he gives you. I will augment your heart-search.” The words were so much gibberish to me, although I was already somehow gathering strength. I closed my eyes, opened my awareness of Morgan, then poured something, some power into his memory of Huido—strengthening it with my own remembrance of their silent farewell.
Immediately I was carried helplessly along as the incredibly strong beam of thought widened, coursing farther and farther until it struck a heaving crackle of a mind. I experienced a disorientation, a skewing of perception that flashed spasms of pain behind my eyes. A reflex clamped down, breaking the connection. I opened my eyes cautiously.
“Whew,” Morgan’s gasp was pained.
“Huido made it,” I commented.
Morgan rubbed his forehead, canting his head around to look at me. “Not nearby, though.” A wry smile. “And I don’t particularly wish to use my—our power to find him. What did you call it? Heart-search?”
I frowned, not at him. “The idea came from the Sira-I-WAS.” A small, winged creature, jewel-blue, caught my eye as it fluttered cautiously nearby. “It makes me very nervous to do such things.” The tiny creature whirled upward to a large group of pink flowers overhead and disappeared.
Morgan had climbed back into the pod. But he heard me. “I do understand, Sira.” I heard an unexpected bleakness in his voice. “It’s not a—comfortable ability.”
“Yet you told me that to lose it was like being blinded,” I said.
“Sometimes you see too much.”
I mulled that over for a moment, watching the peaceful forest settle back to life after our explosive intrusion. “How can you see too much?” I asked at last.
Morgan backed out of the pod and looked down at me. He made as if to speak then closed his lips. Then he asked: “What did you think when you first felt this link between us? Before you understood it or could control it?”
“I was scared to death.” I thought about it. “And I was angry. I wanted to stop feeling what was happening inside you and couldn’t. I had no privacy, no self left. I blamed you.” I shrugged and smiled at him. “After all, you’re the only one it happens with.”
Morgan dropped lightly to the ground beside me and held out one hand. Uncertainly, I placed mine palm down over it. The sensation of his life was as real as the warmth of the air, and as harmlessly normal. “It doesn’t bother me anymore,” I said calmly, meeting his blue gaze. “You don’t sense me in this way, do you.”
“At the moment, I feel nothing more than touch.”
“But,” I began and stopped with a frown. What was he trying to tell me?
A wry smile deep in Morgan’s eyes. “I learned years ago to quiet my perception of other minds, to turn it off and on at will. It takes concentration and effort, but otherwise I’d have gone mad. If I touch someone with my shields open, as I’ve done with you, I’m invaded by thoughts and emotions. Layers upon layers of conflicting reactions and responses—to events past and present, to others, and to me.” He drew away his hand. “It’s a sense I use and value. But there’s always a price.”
This time, it wasn’t a memory that clarified my world, but understanding. Morgan’s loneliness was self-imposed. Huido was probably his only friend, his alien mind never a threat or imposition, his emotions offered from a safe distance.
I dug my toes gently into the moss, watching the green strands bend and straighten. “Why haven’t you found another telepath?” I was careful not to sound too interested. “Wouldn’t someone like that understand, be able to control their thoughts and emotions?”
“I imagine it could be worse,” Morgan said with a dash of impatience, as though my question made him uncomfortable. “One slip, one burst of emotion could rip away both shields. No thanks. I don’t feel like being that exposed.
“Anyway,” he added more briskly, “those telepaths I know make a living either for or against the Trade Pact, both of which makes them less than friends of mine right now.” He paused. “I know a few non-Human telepaths. The Clan. Barac, and now his cousin Rael.”
“Rael?” I frowned at the name. “You didn’t tell me about her. Who is she?”
“Someone you’ve met. Here.” Morgan’s fingers brushed my forehead. A face formed. I examined the image carefully, aware of no answering memory, yet knowing something wasn’t quite right with Morgan’s sending. The full lips should curve with warmth; the brilliant eyes sparkle with inner gaiety. The hair should fall freely over a brow with no lines of ill-temper marring it. I surveyed the new picture with pleasure. Now she looked as I thought she should. But how did I know? I slammed my barriers down, erasing the smiling face and shutting Morgan out. He was looking at me in a puzzled manner.
“It appears you know a Rael I don’t.” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice that I instantly resented.
“You know what’s in my mind as well or better than I do, Jason Morgan. Isn’t it a bit late to suspect me of hidingsomething from you?” I didn’t try to keep back my frustration. “Am I supposed to fear what little comes out of my head?” I stopped, listening to what I’d said.
I breathed hard, staring at Morgan’s face without really seeing it, torn by the chaos in my mind. The comfortable but barred room. The signs of a long stay. The certainty of belonging there, of recognizing the right of those who had chosen that fate for me to rule my movements, to isolate me. The key was not the time I had spent there, but why I was now free. If only I could remember!
“You must try to remove the rest of the blockage, Morgan,” I said, fighting the turmoil in my mind. “You were right all the time. Everything we do is a pretense unless we know who and what I am. Maybe Sira di Sarc isn’t worth the effort and risk you and Huido went through.”
Morgan’s smile was warm. “You’re hardly the one to judge that, Sira.” He looked skyward pensively. “Right now, we better be thinking about some sort of shelter— sunset can’t be far off. I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel like sleeping in there.” A wave at the tiny, lop-sided ship.
I couldn’t agree more. The small door to the escape pod’s cramped interior was anything but inviting. I forced myself to concentrate on the matter at hand, perfectly aware that Morgan was trying to distract me. I looked after him thoughtfully as he climbed into the pod to retrieve our gear. Morgan had also deflected the conversation away from his own life. His loneliness was an echo of mine.
“Don’t forget lunch!” I called up, brought to earth by the rumbling of my stomach. An accurately pitched package of ration tubes landed in the moss at my feet. I poked it with my toe and made no move to pick it up. “You’ll have to do better than that, Captain, or you’ll have a mutiny on your hands. Look at nature’s bounty surrounding us and tell me you intend to eat this recycled goo!”
Morgan stuck out his head, removing the tube he was sucking on to say derisively: “Not so much as a drop of water until it’s tested. And we don’t have time before nightfall to look for edible delicacies. Besides,” there was a gleam in his eyes, “this ‘recycled goo’ only takes one hand, so you can keep working, chit.” The grinning face disappeared.