The Alliance (33 page)

“Now you understand.”
Jean-Paul’s grin looked incandescent. “
I can leave with a clear conscience. Name the first boy after me.”
He disappeared.

“Mister President?” his next appointment asked.

“Yes. Come in and take a seat.” Jack beamed at the man. “How can I help you?”

* * * *

Rachael woke refreshed. Her return to the Treaty Port and Federation compound had the quality of a nightmare. It felt great to wake and feel alone, her mind not bombarded by other’s thoughts.

“Good morning,”
Jack greeted her.

“Where are you?”

“In my office. I fell asleep here last night.”
She heard his chuckle in her mind. “
Word had passed around about your exploits on the island and everyone wanted to congratulate you. I said you weren’t available until you’d rested, so they came to me instead. If we held an election tomorrow, I think you’d win in a land slide.”

“What’s the pay like? I might think about it.”
She felt great.

“Lousy and the hours are endless.”

“You’re just saying that to put me off.”
She laughed aloud He felt close.

A gentle tapping on the door warned her. “Yes?” She spoke aloud, the word sounding hollow in her ears.

“May I come in?” Jenni asked.

“Bye, Love. Catch you later.”
Jack left.

“Yes.” She was glad he’d gone; handling thoughts and words at the same time was beyond her.

“Are you ready of breakfast?” Jenni only half entered the room, pausing half in and half out the door.

“What time is it?” Rachael faced the wrong way to see her bedside clock.

“Just a little before eight.”
God, she’s beautiful…,
Jenni’s thoughts ran on to imagine things Rachael found startling, proving how much words slowed communication by compressing a seduction and orgasm into the half second it took her to reply.

“You go ahead and save a seat for me in the canteen.” The tenor of Jenni’s imaginings made Rachael reluctant to lower the bedclothes.

“Right.” Jenni paused a half-second and Rachael’s hands tightened on the sheet, jerking it a little higher to hide her nipple in a convulsive response to the direction of Jenni’s musing. “Are you sure, you shouldn’t rest a little longer?”

“No.” It was hard to separate Jenni’s imagination from her intentions, but the detailed pictures running through her mind involved both of them in this bed. “You go ahead. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve dressed.”

Jenni closed the door and disappeared, but Rachael felt her retreating thoughts. She closed her mind with an effort of will, blanking Jenni out.

Jack had named Jenni an agent of Internal Security and he wouldn’t be guessing. It raised an interesting question.
Were thoughts like words? Did they come and fade, the same as sounds, or did they leave a trace extending backwards into memories? Had Jack, or one of the others, caught Jenni’s thoughts as they happened, or followed them back into her mind and scanned her memories
?

She felt surprised to find she’d dressed unconsciously in the midst of this and stood at her door.

Breakfast. She still needed to eat.

Jenni was watching the door into the canteen and Rachael felt her recognition and saw her raised arm. She responded with a casual wave and headed direct to the bain-marie. The chef saw her coming and she felt the warmth of his regard. He was proud of his Feodar’s World heritage and of her.

The mind filter was working, general impressions flowed through, but unless she focused on the individual, specific thoughts didn’t. The consensus of the room was admiration for the way she was handling the situation, particularly her calmness in taking a ten-hour break for sleep. No one realized how exhausted she’d been by the rescue and its aftermath. One thread was apparent. They were all concerned for their future and equally divided between those who saw it exclusively within the Federation or here on this planet. The longer the individual had been here, the more he, or she, considered it their home. Many wanted to move out of the compound, now that Jack was modernizing the local environment. No one feared this world’s inhabitants now that the Pontiff disappeared.

Jack had made a great start.

She thanked the chef and took her plate, the food tastefully arranged and served direct from the stove—a rare privilege.

On the way to her table, she paused with the administrative head of the compound. “Please advise all off-duty personnel I would like to say a few words in here after breakfast.” She glanced at the wall clock. “Would nine-thirty be a good time?” Caught with his mouth full, he nodded, and she continued her way to the chair Jenni had reserved.

“Good morning,” Jenni had remembered her instructions and they sat at a different table, so introductions took precedence to eating for the first few minutes. It wasn’t until the first one rose to leave that Rachael remembered. “I’m going to say a few words at nine-thirty. I’d be grateful if you were here.”

Nods all around responded and Jenni had a question in her eyes. “I’ll explain when everyone can hear,” Rachael said. “It’s merely to keep everyone up to date with what’s happened.”

The administrative head left the room and a PA announcement followed, causing heads to turn to Rachael. She smiled encouragingly and continued eating.

By nine-thirty, everyone had finished eating and the canteen, the largest area in the compound, was full. Rachael rose from her chair, kicked off her shoes, and Jenni helped her climb onto their table so everyone could see her. Having enquired and been assured that everyone could hear, she was ready to progress the plan formed on the flight back to the Treaty Port.

“I returned to Feodar’s World hoping for a quiet time, in which I could feel my way into a new role. It hasn’t happened.” The titter of laughter came as she expected. “From the information available to me, it seems, Internal Security, whom we all love and respect,” she milked more laughter from them. “Have exceeded their brief and undertaken an external operation for an undisclosed purpose and been caught red-handed.” She shook her head theatrically. “The President, who is aware of far more of the internal workings of the Federation than is entirely comfortable for me, has irrefutable evidence of this, and I will pass it on to the appropriate authorities later today when their courier arrives. He has asked me to assure all of you he does not intend to break ties with the Federation. However, in the unlikely event that he did, he has promised that any of you who wish to stay will be welcomed with full citizenship.” A delighted buzz answered the statement and Rachael gave them time to think about it.

“Like the President, I do not anticipate things going that far.” She smiled at them. “If it did, my career in the diplomatic service would be the shortest on record.” More laughter and a ripple of quips. “Please continue your duties on the assumption I will advise you of any changes as soon as I learn them.” The applause was genuine as she stepped down and sat to put on her shoes.

She felt Jenni’s fear before she looked up and was careful to make her smile warm and friendly. “I think we’ll slip out and give them the freedom to discuss this.”

Jenni nodded and they left the canteen.

“I’m going to see the President.” Rachael needed Jack. This mind to mind contact had its limitations. “He promised me proof of Internal Security’s meddling. I want you to prepare a timeline of events since we received the request for access. Leave my activities blank until I get back with the proof, but include the comms report about the base load changes.”

Jenni nodded, but the curve of Rachael’s lower lip captured her mind. Her imagination leaped forward to the sensation of capturing it between her teeth and Rachael had to block out her thoughts in self-protection.

“She’s doing it deliberately.”
Jack was there. “
It’s part of her survival strategy. A believable explanation why she chose to risk her career with a new ambassador. She’s convincing herself so she can convince others it was simple lust.”

Rachael remembered her suspicions the morning after the pavilion dinner and had difficulty hiding her thoughts. She felt grateful when Jenni turned away and left so she could go her own way to the side exit she’d used before.

“
I’m coming to see you,”
she sent, demanding Jack’s attention. Jenni’s thoughts had triggered her own needs.

“I know.”
She felt his smile.

“It may be wise to ensure privacy before I reach you.”
She made it a deliberate communication. “
I have a sudden insatiable curiosity about the effect of telepathy on certain interpersonal activities.”
She experienced his picture of what she had in mind and was satisfied she’d communicated well. It was exciting enough to make walking normally difficult and she felt glad the canteen was well behind her.

Her progress to the inn became a parade. It began with broad smiles surrounding her as shouts of recognition turned heads and grew to be a moving crowd with her in the center, a pathway opening before her and closing behind. The innkeeper greeted her at his door and Jack waited at the head of the stairs leading to his rooms.

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.

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.