Damia (14 page)

“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, “Remember 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.

Young though Jeran was, his mind responded to Afra’s and he was quite content to sit in the Capellan’s lap watching origami birds and fish and animals appear. When Jeran advanced from clapping and laughing with delight to reaching out with unskillful grasp to gain possession of the fragile creations, Afra patiently taught him how to use just his forefinger and thumb to hold the origami. And when Jeran fell asleep in his arms, Afra found that trustfulness particularly appealing. He regretted having to transfer the soft warm body to its crib.

The stress which the rest of the Tower personnel had so skillfully controlled with the Rowan present rose significantly as they allowed their concern over the severity of the onslaught to leak into the open.

A tray containing cups of steaming liquid appeared in the Control Room. Afra sniffed inquiringly and smelled only the best of coffees and teas, superior in quality and freshness to any available on the Station.

Complements of Luciano!
Gollee Gren said, a chuckle of delight at his surprise in his ’pathing.
As long as I can and you need, there’ll be non-stop refreshments at Callisto Station!

The broad band statement was answered by everyone on the Station with a welling of profound gratitude.

The refreshments were devoured and Gren had to make replenishments twelve times during the course of the Vigil as this time Callisto, Earth, Betelgeuse, Altair, Procyon, and Capella all stood ready to support beleaguered Deneb.

Reidinger’s orders came up electronically at light speed rather than instantaneously via telepathy. Afra discerned why as soon as he read them. He approved of Reidinger’s plan but it was dangerous to split the Talented forces in the path of the enemy. It was also a gamble.

Afra worked diligently to ensure that the staff of Callisto Station was properly briefed and rested. Even so, the tension built acutely as the events around Deneb were relayed throughout the Nine Star League.

“Hey, that thing has slowed.” Jeff’s voice, relayed telepathically, was linked over the Station’s comm system. “It’s going to go into orbit around Deneb!”

“Why?” That was the voice of Isthia Raven, being echoed again by the comm telepath. “I will not believe its intentions are pacific!”

Afra heartily agreed. The Leviathan had passed through ten Welcome&Identify beacons, breached the mine field laid out beyond Deneb’s heliopause, and sent out destroyers to engage the Fleet.

“No, certainly not in that orbit,” was Jeff Raven’s droll response. “Just far enough away for its missiles to be effective and too far for any retaliation from the ground—if we had any missiles of any kind. Ruddy bitches are going to pound the hell out of us again!”

No, they’re not!
Everyone in the Control Room started when Reidinger’s emphatic tones burst forth.
Angharad Gwyn-Raven, the A focus is yours. Gather it! Jeff Raven, collect the B focus. Prepare!

Afra!
The mental “voice” of Jeff Raven clamped him in
a firm grip as he contacted the male minds that were his strike force. The Rowan would be gathering every female Talent in her focus.

Here
, Afra responded calmly, “letting go” of his mind at Jeff’s touch.

Good!
Raven returned with a sense of relief.
I cannot get Gren to respond at this distance.
Jeff’s voice held a note of tension in it.

Don’t worry
, Afra hastily assured him and simultaneously sent out mental alerts to Gren and Ackerman who were standing by.
We’ve built a pyramid, with you at the apex.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, Afra felt the lesser Talents of the solar system aligning themselves behind himself, Gollee, and Ackerman. He was aware of a mental engorgement, passing through him to Jeff, as if he himself had swelled to the size of a small moon.
Callisto and Earth are with you
, Afra sent, passing forward a mental baton which was the combined will of all the male Talents that Earth, Callisto, and all the planets of the solar system could muster.

Betelgeuse joins the Prime.

Procyon is on line.

Capellan men send greetings and are ready for the merge.

Altair here.

And far out at Deneb, Jeff Raven found himself the center of a maelstrom of power. The timing was perfect, for as the Rowan-focus had finished pulverizing the minds of the “Many,” it was time for the Raven-focus to shove Leviathan to its doom.

NOW!
Jeff Raven called and every kinetic male Talent was united in full gestalt with all available generators in the Nine Star League to divert Leviathan to a new trajectory—straight to the huge star that was hot Deneb.

That’s what we should have done with the first attackers
, the Raven-merge said.

We
did
warn them!
the Rowan-merge replied.

And then, job completed, energies spent, the two foci of
massed minds fell apart to their constituent pieces. Collectively the personnel at Callisto Station gave an exhausted groan, many falling over at their posts, sapped of all energy. The generators, suddenly freed of their load, whirled up to overspeed and circuit breakers tripped them out.

Jeff?
Afra managed to find enough energy to call. He was not sure he heard a reply, like a man shouting across a windy field.
Reidinger, the generators have all dropped out. We’re all shagged here, but nothing that a day’s rest won’t cure.

I’ll tell him
, Gollee Gren sent back with overtones of a yawn.

“Keerist! I don’t want to do that again!” Brian Ackerman swore.

Afra toggled the all-call on the Station comm system. “Get to bed, people, rest. We’re shutting down for the next twenty-four hours. Maintenance crew, work it out so that the generators are ready to go on-line by then.”

Brian looked over at him and grinned. “Afra Lyon! I think that’s the first time you’ve ever made a command decision!”

Afra was too tired to respond.

The Defense of the Denebian Penetration, as that act of alien aggression came to be called in the popular press, was the last act of FT&T under the auspices of Peter Reidinger. The stress had been almost too much for him and Jeff Raven’s stellar performance had opened any door that had previously remained closed to the Denebian’s good nature and steady charm.

“Not,” Reidinger growled, “that I won’t keep an eye on you!”

That problem, however, was not the least one to be considered with the successful defense. The one that concerned Afra the most was one that caused him considerable anxiety because he didn’t know if he was misinterpreting some very odd remarks Jeran was making. And it was some weeks before he finally figured out where the toddler’s
observation came from and arranged to meet with Raven to discuss it.

“You’re tense and your shields are wobbly,” Jeff said as soon as he met Afra in his office—once Reidinger’s lair—on Earth. “What is wrong?”

“It’s your daughter.” Jeff’s eyes widened. Afra went on quickly, “With all the energies flowing through the Rowan during the Defense, I think your daughter has been affected.”

“How bad?” Jeff asked, face gone pale.

“Oh, not bad!” Afra replied, sounding very positive. “It’s just—just that I’ve heard Jeran talking to her.”

“Already?” Jeff was astonished. He sent a quick tight band to his mother.

Yes
, was Isthia’s considered opinion,
I’d say Afra is right. I wasn’t too sure of it when Angharad was still on Deneb, but if Afra’s noticed the phenomenon, I accept his opinion. How is it manifested?

On rather an infantile level
, Afra said wryly,
but there is a mental contact between the two children. Jeran doesn’t quite understand what’s fretting her, but he knows she’s not happy “in there.” He doesn’t know how to answer. How could he?
Afra added.

Jeff was thoughtful.
The baby’s reacting to the stress the Rowan felt? So we have to tell him what
to
tell her, carefully framed for a fetal mind?
Afra nodded.

I can see why you didn’t want to upset Angharad. She exhausted most of her reserves in the Merge. I wouldn’t want her stressed right now.

Jeff’s grin was rueful. “Yes, it could be disconcerting to have your toddler suddenly tell you that your daughter’s unhappy where she is.”

“I have a suggestion,” Afra went on, “which I’ve already discussed with Elizara as the Rowan’s obstetrical adviser. Jeran’s merely repeating the baby’s anxiety. Let’s have him make a physical contact. At a moment when the Rowan is distracted and won’t either inadvertently curb the link or physically prevent it.”

It should work
, Isthia remarked when he had finished.
Though I’ve never heard of a sibling talking to a fetus. Could we please have Elizara in on this conference?

When the practitioner joined them, she suggested that while fetuses were not normally aware at this stage of gestation, she’d rule nothing out in the case of Angharad Gwyn-Raven.