Lyon's Pride Page 10

  After the strains of the morning, Laria burst into laughter and knew that she couldn’t fail to like Kincaid. He advanced toward her, his thin, very pale face alight with pleasure that she’d identified the tune. He couldn’t ever be called “handsome,” not the way Yoshuk was, but he was attractive, despite a ship’s pallor and a dry skin that gave him more facial wrinkles than he ought to have. She didn’t think him older than Vanteer. Rangily built but far too thin for the big bones of him, he held out to her a big blunt-fingered hand, palm sideways so she could merely brush it, for the touch that Talents preferred as casual contact, or shake it.

  She was so glad to see him, a confirmed ’Dini person, a man who laughed easily and obviously had an outrageous sense of humor, that she grasped his hand and took full advantage—as he did after a moment’s polite hesitation—of the complete contact. He was piney/green/oddly velvet, very very tired and, though he didn’t try to hide the fact from her, she caught the hesitancy and realized that he was homosexual. If he made a good T-2, that wouldn’t matter. It would almost be better if they were friends, as her grandmother and Afra had been, rather than lovers. Still…

  “The first thing you do, Kincaid Dano of Altair, is get some extended rest,” she said briskly, twisting her hand in his and starting to lead him out of the main Tower room to the living area. “You’ll have to be careful of the sun here, Kincaid, you’ve been confined too long in a ship…”

  “Don’t you just know it…” he said ruefully. Look, Laria Prime, he said on the most private level which their joined hands provided, there is something exceedingly important…

  “I’ll get some of the strongest blocker,” Lionasha said, “and goggle glasses to reduce Clarf’s dazzle. Even peripherally it’s going to bother you.”

  “Go on ahead, Laria, and darken the room…the best guest, Clarissia’s left hers in a welter,” said Vanteer, picking up one of the duffels that Kincaid had brought with him. “You’re to sleep!”

  “Look, I’m here to help….” Laria Prime, I must…

  “You’re in no state to be help in any form, Kincaid,” Laria said firmly, in answer to both voiced and ’pathed messages, “until you’ve had some rest.”

  You don’t realize… He was insistent and gripped her hand to express his urgency.

  A couple of hours won’t make that much difference, will it? she asked, as if his admission of his sexuality would matter to her. Or maybe he didn’t realize that his fatigue had made it very easy for her to reach to the more private areas of his mind. Even with my help you couldn’t ’path much beyond your nose.

  A few hours, no, I guess not. But, and he added aloud, “Nil and Plus have to contact their…”

  “Ours can manage that courtesy while you’re grabbing a few hours’ sleep,” Laria said placatingly, dropping his hand as she pushed open the door out of the Tower. Lionasha grabbed up the second duffel as they all maneuvered the long man where they wanted him to go. Raising his arms in surrender, he allowed himself to be guided.

  Laria marched straight to the nearest and largest guest bedroom, palming the blind controls to complete darkness, and lowering the room lighting to a suitable dimness.

  “Ah!” Kincaid exclaimed as he took in the spacious surroundings. “A real bed, too!”

  Laria laughed. “Yes, you wouldn’t fit on a bunk too well, would you?”

  He did a shoulder roll onto the extra wide and long bed and lay there, sighing with intense relief, arms and legs spread out to the edges. For a beat, the other three Talents waited for another comment from him.

  Laria covered her mouth and her giggle.

  “He’s asleep?” whispered Lionasha.

  “Out like a light!”

  The three left the room, Laria palming the lights off and carefully sliding the door shut.

  “Not that I think a torpedo would wake him…” Laria said as they returned to the Tower complex. Halfway down that corridor they could hear the excited ’Dini voices. Their gang were already taking care of the arrivals.

  “They can all have the day off,” Laria said as they entered the main complex. “Nothing’s due in now.”

  “You’re right,” Lionasha said, glancing at the topmost waybills on her desk. “None of Plrgtgl’s shipments will arrive until tomorrow but here,” she added, tearing a slip from the printer with a flourish, “are the coordinates you can send that misbegotten carrier to.” She handed Laria the slip.

  “Prayers have been answered all round today. Rev up the generators, please, Vanteer,” Laria said, and settled herself in the nearest chair. “I have the oddest feeling I’ve already done a full day’s work with only one catch and one send. This one is the bonus.” Print-out in hand, she concentrated and, catching the rhythm of the generators, flipped Prtglm’s carrier to the coordinates given. “And that is that!”

  Vanteer sniffed the air about him. “Yes, a definite improvement.”

  “All round,” Lionasha agreed. “Don’t know how you stuck her so long, Laria. You’ve the patience of a saint.”

  “What’s a saint?” asked Vanteer.

  “Oh, you!” Laria said, for Vanteer’s fey humor broke out at the oddest times. This might be one of the times he was trying to catch her out.

  Lionasha had taken Vanteer’s query at face value and, being keen on history, explained the concept thoroughly while Laria listened. If this Kincaid fit in with these two half as well as she rather thought he would, they were finally a real Tower Team. Vanteer was as hetero as she could wish—she could also wish for a bit more from Vanteer but there was no way she could initiate things, not with Van’s personality and the fact that he liked spreading himself around, which inhibited her. There were several others in the growing Human community who might find Kincaid companionable.

  “TLP, HGF, ALL OF YOU, PLEASE TAKE NPL AND PLS TO SEE CLARF. DO NOT FORGET ANY OF THE SIGHTS THEY SHOULD SEE AND DO NOT WORRY ABOUT REPORTING UNTIL TOMORROW MORNING FOR WORK.”

  The darker-pelted of Kincaid’s two sable-colored ’Dinis turned most politely to Laria. “KNKD HAS TIRED WITH TOO MUCH STRAIN. YOU WILL LET HIM SLEEP, LR LN?”

  “UNTIL HE WAKES, MOST EXCELLENT NPL.”

  There was a moment of excitement between Nil and Plus, for neither had been formally introduced to Laria, and her being able to identify one from the other pleased both immensely.

  “LR LN KNOWS MRDINIS WELL,” said Tip with as much pomposity as a ’Dini of its longevity could manage. Huf, Vanteer’s Dig and Nim, as well as Lionasha’s Fig and Sil, were convulsed in ’Dini giggles. It took all three Humans to herd eight wriggling ’Dinis out the main Tower entrance. They were still reeling with laughter until they reached the outer gates, when suddenly all eight assumed the usual dignified postures of ’Dinis of reasonably high rank.

  * * *

  Laria Prime?

  The summons must have been repeated on gradually increasing levels of urgency before Laria woke, unable in her sleepiness to identify the caller.

  Who? She was surprised as well as slightly annoyed to have a deep slumber broken into.

  Kincaid. I apologize but I am rested sufficiently now to make an extremely important and top secret report to Earth Prime. There was a hesitation that Laria interpreted as both embarrassment and necessity. I am unable right now to make so long a ’path and ask for your assistance.

  What he did not say, and which alerted Laria as nothing else could have, was the fact that the secrecy of the communication was crucial. None of the Tower staff must know of the ’path, the generators must not be used.

  Kincaid might say he was sufficiently rested but Laria knew by the edge on the words he spoke that he was by no means as rested as he would like her to believe.

  I’ll collect you on my way to the Tower, she said, and slipped into the loose light long robe that most of the Humans living on Clarf preferred.

  He was standing at his closed door, still wearing the shipsuit he had arrived in although he was barefooted. She nodded approval and
led the way. It was four in Clarf’s morning and the floor under their bare feet was almost cool. She took the stairs two at a time and realized that he did so, too. Another nice change from Clarissia who had been prim to the point of the worst excess of methody. Laria pointed to the couch which, she also noted, they would have to lengthen to fit his frame comfortably, but he sank onto it now without a murmur.

  Have you merged often enough to be comfortable with the procedure? she asked. There was a great deal she would need to learn about this man before they did many ’portations.

  More with other T-2s and T-3s than with a Prime…

  It’s as well you’re still too tired to resist then, she ’pathed, and firmly took control. Deep inside, she wondered again what the Navy had been doing to the man to reduce him to this level of nearly total mental and physical exhaustion. Then she caught edges of anxieties, deep loss and disillusionments. So he’d had a rough emotional time on the Strongbow as well as overwork. Despite that, the merge was as easy as slipping a hand into a perfectly fitting glove. More to admire in the man.

  Laria-Kincaid merge to Earth Prime, urgent.

  I’m here and I’ve been expecting Kincaid’s contact, Laria. Just support him, will you?

  That was surprise enough for Laria and she immediately assumed the secondary position of the merge, deft enough with all the practice she’d had with her parents at Aurigae Tower, bolstering the strength of the merge.

  I had my orders, as you know, sir, but there were other ways in which I was asked to assist the Squadron and since there was no specific limitation, I used my own judgment when the matter was presented to me.

  Properly done, Kincaid. Proceed.

  Laria tried to keep herself from tensing: this sounded suspiciously like what had happened to her brother; no specific orders against an action which had disastrous consequences. Judging by what she had empathed of personal distress, even Kincaid’s maturity and a wider scope of experience had not prevented a trauma with which he was trying to cope.

  I was asked to send the new design plastic probes to those M-5 planets which we were passing when at a feasible distance for my ability. Captains Steverice and Hsiang were most anxious to establish some reason for such bypasses. The first had once—and Kincaid paused significantly—been occupied by Hivers, for the colony ship was in orbit and sufficient of the now identifiable Hive buildings and agricultural workings were visible—though the world did not show the same concentration of effort that was visible on the Xh-33. No activity was observed during the forty-eight-hour parabolic surveillance. The second world examined was completely devoid of life or vegetation but there was a ring of debris which both Captains Steverice and Hsiang decided was similar to the one observed by Squadron B. The third M-5 world was not yet dead but in such ecological imbalance that only immediate action could reverse the process. I have the coordinates and I suggest that an expedition be mounted—joint if that is politically sound—to save what could be a habitable world. Hivers were there; two small buildings remained, but in ruins. The fourth world is being colonized by Hivers.

  Was that probe seen?

  Negative.

  Thank you, Kincaid. You’ve done more than you were required and we very much appreciate your efforts. Prime Laria, you are to be certain this man is completely recovered before he is required to take his position in the Tower.

  You can count on me, Earth Prime.

  I know I can, dear child. Now both of you get back to your beds. Especially you, Kincaid.

  Laria, still merged with Kincaid, felt him starting to reach out with another sentence and deftly, and as painlessly as possible for even the merge had caused his mind distress, eased away.

  “You heard my grandfather. Enough is enough.”

  Kincaid had swung himself sideways on the couch, burying his head in his hands, body sagging.

  “Glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” she said, a trifle annoyed with such dedication even as every ounce of her heritage approved it.

  “You realize how important the messages are.”

  “Yes, indeed. But, now, my friend…” and she paused just long enough to cause him to make eye contact at her use of the word. She smiled down into his tired eyes. “…Friend Kincaid Dano of Altair, you’re going to sleep yourself out.”

  Then, without asking, she gently ’ported this long man friend back to the bed in his quarters, amused at her maternal attitude but keeping that amusement well screened. He made neither protest nor resistance to such manipulation. Too exhausted to, she thought. When she passed his room on her way back to her own, she “peeked” in. He had turned on his left side, cradling his head on one arm. She flipped the light cover over him. Dawn brought a cool breeze no matter how hot the night had been or the day would be. She didn’t want him coming down with a ridiculously Humanoid cold.

  * * *

  Kincaid roused late the next evening and was instantly served a nourishing meal which Laria and Lionasha had spent some time concocting.

  Thanks, whoever sent this, he said when he had finished every scrap of the tray. He was asleep again before anyone working in the Tower could respond.

  “Whatever did they do to the poor guy?” Lionasha asked.

  “More than a T-2 should be required to do, I’d say,” Laria replied with some asperity.

  “Like your brother, huh?” Vanteer asked.

  Laria shook her head. “For one thing, Kincaid is aT-2 and didn’t have the capacities either Thian or Rojer have, but he did a lot more than he should have. Pretty far off even for just normal catch and shove.”

  Vanteer looked up at the tri-D galactic globe that was being updated almost monthly by the various squadrons, Human and Mrdini, exploring in every direction. “Yeah, he would have been dangerously close to his limit, even with the generators those Galaxy class ships have.”

  Lionasha gave a sigh. “We are going to need his heist soon, Laria,” she said, patting one sheaf of the heavier materials to be sent to the moon spaceyards. “Those are big daddies.”

  Laria had tested the state of Kincaid’s sleeping mind and was reassured by the return of a healthy resilience.

  “Another twenty-four hours and he won’t know himself.”

  “Then we can schedule the party for the day after tomorrow?” asked Lionasha, with just a hint of the eagerness she had for the project.

  Vanteer and Laria laughed, knowing just why she was eager.

  Since the early days of the Clarf Tower, when Yoshuk and Nesrun had managed however they could in the strange environment, many more Humans had moved to take up administrative or consultancy posts on Clarf, and on the two Moon bases. Close to three thousand Humans, some with varying degrees of Talent, though that was not a prerequisite, now formed a loose but agreeable social unit. Specialists came, integrated briefly, or stayed on as their work required them. The Tower facilities had been enlarged several times and into several levels to accommodate transients. A large tract of land, near the sea, had been allotted the more permanent Human colony. Lately Lionasha had been seeing a young Denebian servo-mechanics engineer, Buzbeth Hawk. While he was a T-5, he was only just marginally empathic with Humans. Lionasha didn’t mind: she got through to him with no trouble. Vanteer preferred to “mingle” as he put it, though he was already contributing to the support of two children from different mothers of minor Talents. He was certain the girl was already a receiving telepath. Laria often wished that Vanteer would “receive” a little more from her than he did. But you don’t force Human relationships, especially among Talents. She knew that much from the story of her father and mother.

  * * *

  Twenty-four hours later, looking refreshed and certainly relaxed, Kincaid joined the Tower staff for their early morning meal. He had obviously found time to discover the working schedule to know that Clarf Tower liked to get as much of its heavy work done in the dawn hours as possible.

  “Am I fit, Prime?” he asked as he pulled out a chair to sit opposite Laria.<
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  “Yes, or I wouldn’t have allowed you out of your quarters,” she said, passing him the coffee pot.

  Appreciatively he sniffed the steaming aroma and grinned. “It’s real! The Navy has some brew they insist is coffee but, believe me, it isn’t!”

  “We do have certain perks in this Tower that even the Fleet can’t manage,” Vanteer said, passing him over the dew-fresh fruit which ’Dini farmers regularly left at the Tower gates.

  “Clarf is certainly an improvement.” Then he gave a sudden jerk to his shoulders and looked about him frowning. “Where are Nil and Plus?”

  “Helping the others,” Vanteer said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the still shadowy Tower field. “We got big daddies to move. They’ve integrated so well you’d think they were the same color.”

  Kincaid looked immensely relieved and began to eat his breakfast. “They’ve been…well, they were incredibly understanding on our tour with Squadron C.”

  Lionasha leaned slightly across the table to Kincaid. “Don’t be surprised if they keep their poll eyes elevated a while. They’ve been given heroes’ welcomes. Their color kin mobbed the Complex the first morning and they’ve been out every night since.”

  “They need to be with their own. Both are close to hibernating.”

  “Yes, we noticed, and Plrgtgl made very prestigious arrangements for them,” Laria said with a grin as she rose. “Bring your coffee up to the Tower, Kincaid. We’ve got to get started.”

  He swallowed the fruit he was chewing, splashed more coffee into his cup and made for the stairs.

  “Refills, whenever,” Lionasha said as she settled at her station.

  “You’ve worked a Tower before?” Laria asked.

  “Hasn’t my file caught up with me?”

  “Oh, it’s in the banks all right, but I’d rather work with you,” she said, with a slight emphasis on “work.” “You had no trouble merging, even dead on your feet, and that’s the hardest part of Tower work. Some never get the knack.”

  As she chatted to put him at his ease, she settled herself on the couch.