Damia Page 9

  I wouldn’t dream of moving either of you! Reidinger responded. However, I have to think of the future beyond me and, frankly, while Jeff Raven’s a good man, he does not have the skills required to run a Prime Station. I want you—

  Afra was ahead of him. Me? To teach the Rowan’s husband? Has it occurred to you that the man might not even want me around his wife? Let alone himself and his children?

  It has, Reidinger responded sadly. And I think it would be the greatest of catastrophes.

  Afra spluttered, spreading his hands in dismay. While he would be deeply saddened, he could not see how his personal feelings would amount to a catastrophe.

  Reidinger made it clear to him. What good are they to me if they can only work together? Do you honestly think that the Rowan would choose a man so petty? Come, you know she almost chose—

  Stop! Afra called, eyes closed painfully. The Rowan is my friend and more. I love her like a sister. If her happiness requires that I step out of her life, then not you, nor the FT&T nor anyone will stop me!

  So you’ll run away at the slightest possible excuse, will you? Reidinger hurled in response. Green by color, green by nature, is that it, Capellan? Are you afraid to look upon their love? Do you love her so little that you cannot welcome her husband with open arms?

  I never said that! Afra returned heatedly, yellow eyes flaring. I will gladly work with Jeff Raven. He’s a remarkable man and he well suits the Rowan. But you must understand, there are secrets, things the Rowan and I have shared that—that may make it very difficult for him to work with me.

  Give it a try, then, Reidinger said. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll try something else. But don’t prejudge the man—

  I already have, Afra returned with a grin. She’s chosen him, which makes him special. Besides which, the man has such a way with him, he can charm anyone.

  Reidinger’s response was laughter. As he charmed even Earth Prime? Afra was astonished that Reidinger grasped that hidden qualification. I have always thought that you were a wise, perceptive lion. Just think of this assignment as another way in which you help the Rowan—as well as FT&T. The interview was over. Reidinger’s mind faded out but not without a final warmth and an ill-concealed ache.

  The interview left Afra mentally drained and emotionally confused. He had liked what he saw of Jeff Raven and could not but rejoice that the Rowan had finally met her mate. It gave him hopes that perhaps someday he, too, could be so happy. But he had not lied to Reidinger when he fretted that his brotherly intimacy with the Rowan could prove a source of friction between himself and Jeff Raven.

  Brian Ackerman buzzed his commlink. “Afra, where’s the Rowan?”

  In response, Afra downed his breakfast, tossed the container toward the dishwasher, and jumped to the Control Room. Brian started irritably with Afra’s arrival. “Her replacement’s due in soon, Brian. Better let everyone know.”

  “Replacement?” Ackerman echoed in his confusion.

  A newly painted personal capsule appeared in the nearest cradle. Afra?

  Here, Afra responded, sending a mental image. And Jeff Raven appeared in the room.

  “I’m sorry we didn’t have time to talk the last time I was here,” Jeff Raven said to him, extending a hand, his wide smile as charismatic as ever. His face still bore the marks of his recent, nearly-fatal accident, but the vigor of the man was restored. “But I guess we’ll have plenty of time now to correct that.”

  Bracing himself, Afra took the hand and returned the firm grip with one of his own. Feeling the generous surge of gratitude and respect before the clasp was broken, Afra could reply with complete honesty. “I look forward to it.”

  Jeff turned around the room, nodding at those he knew and smiling at those he did not.

  “If you haven’t guessed yet,” Afra said to the Tower at large, “this is Jeff Raven who’s here to replace the Rowan. She’s been upgraded to a whole planet, her native Altair.” He did not have to tell them that Siglen was no more.

  “Afra,” Jeff called politely, “a word with you.” Afra approached and Jeff looked around the room critically. “Let’s talk in the Tower.”

  When they entered, Jeff looked around it. “At least there are two couches,” he remarked cryptically. Then he looked at the Capellan. “If we’re going to work together, there’s something we must clear up—”

  Afra raised a hand, forestalling him, having already prepared for the worst. “I can leave. Reidinger’ll get you a replacement easily. There’s a very good T-4 at Blundell—Gollee Gren: you may even have met him. You two’d probably work quite well together.”

  Hold on! Jeff Raven broke through his apologetic dissembling. He regarded Afra searchingly for several moments. Then he grabbed him, hugged him tightly, thumping him on the back with sturdy fists. Thank you! Afra was confused. Thank you for her sanity, for her happiness, for everything! I couldn’t exactly convey all of that downstairs when we shook hands . . . not with everyone wide open for input . . .

  “Wh-what?”

  “I think she would have gone insane if not for you, Afra Lyon,” Jeff said aloud. “You weathered her rantings and ravings, her tantrums, her fears, and always you were there to give her the support she needed.” He paused, drew another breath: “While I was convalescing on Deneb, she was forever talking of family—even if mine is a bit overwhelming in the close quarters we had to share—but, whenever she thinks of family, your face comes to her mind.” Jeff grabbed Afra’s forearm, reinforcing what he was saying. Then he shook his head, giving one of his lopsided grins. “Look, Afra, you are her family, but when we make our union formal, would you do me the honor of standing to my right as my best man?”

  Afra took an involuntary step backwards as the words sank in. He slipped out of Raven’s grasp. He swallowed, found words.

  “I guess I’ve been over-reacting but I’ve been afraid that you might resent my relationship with the Rowan.” He bowed deeply. “I see that I was unutterably at fault.” He straightened, nodding to Jeff Raven’s tight smile. “You must understand that . . . over the years here . . . well, we’ve become attached . . . not really involved, but emotionally attached in a special way. I know she regarded me as the brother she never had.” Hesitantly he licked his lips. “To be perfectly honest, Raven, had you not appeared, I was perfectly willing—”

  Jeff held up a hand. “I know,” he said softly, “and I thank you.” Seeing Afra’s puzzled look, his expression turned rueful. “Your hesitation only confirms what we both know now—she was never the right person for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky. I devoutly hope that one day you will know the intensity of the bond we share.” His smile altered to one of sadness. “Unfortunately not many of my relations survived and all my remaining sisters and older cousins are already committed, so you can’t marry into my family.” Jeff shifted his position and drew a breath. “Sometimes I babble too much, or so my mother tells me. I’ll give you a chance to answer me: are you willing, as brother by bond, to stand with me when I exchange vows with the Rowan?”

  A slight grin played across Afra’s face, but he bowed again, deeply. “The greatest honor that you—both—could bestow on me.”

  “Then why the grin?”

  “Well, you are planning on uniting soon, aren’t you?”

  Jeff’s question was preempted by Ackerman’s call. Afra! We’ve got cargo to move or we’ll be backlogged for a week!

  “That was really why I asked you up here,” Jeff said. Afra was confused until Jeff added, “I’ve never run a Station before. I want you to know that whatever you say, I’ll do. I consider myself your pupil.” With a wink, he added: “I’m under orders from herself to trust you completely. I believe her exact words were: ‘Do what Afra says and don’t mess up!’”

  When Afra looked skeptical, Jeff gave him a pleading look. “Very well, Jeff, as we’re under her orders.” Afra made for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the Control Room,” Afra e
xplained. “Only the Rowan works up here.”

  “I’ll get lonely,” Jeff responded in mock-serious tones. He waved a hand at the second chair that had been installed for the duration of Torshan and Saggoner’s Primacy. “Why not stay here with me! There’re two feeds and it’ll be easier.”

  “My consoles at the Control Room are programmed for my particular duties,” Afra explained.

  “I’ll learn the running of a Station quicker the sooner I understand your duties as well as my own,” Jeff responded. He waved Afra to come back to the center of the room. “Do what you can now and we’ll have the technicians rig up more consoles here.” Afra was reluctant. “Wouldn’t it be more efficient to have the Prime and all the station crew in one room?”

  Afra’s eyes bugged out. Raven was practically quoting him! “The Rowan never thought so,” Afra temporized.

  “Hmm,” Jeff mused. “Probably safer for the rest of you, given her volatile nature.” He cast a telling glance at Afra. “And you would never think to argue with her. But my dear love is not here now and she said to listen to you in all things. So tell me, Afra of Capella, what do you think of consolidating the Station’s operations?”

  A slow smile spread across Afra’s face. Ackerman, initiate the Epsilon Plan!

  Are you serious? Ackerman’s response was incredulous with excitement.

  Please, was Jeff Raven’s response. If it is a plan to consolidate operations, I can think of nothing more dear to my heart.

  Immediately! And Ackerman was gone, bustling off to set up a plan he and Afra had lusted over for many years.

  Epsilon is the Greek symbol used to express calculated efficiency, Afra said in reply to Jeff’s unspoken question. He tapped a console. You have just ingratiated yourself forever to Brian by making his dearest wish come true.

  “The first cargo is a freighter, Prime,” Afra said aloud. “The data is on your number two console.”

  * * *

  Within a week an ecstatic Ackerman reported a twenty percent increase in the Station’s throughput. Afra noticed that the Callisto crew were eager to aid Jeff Raven in any way at all. His easy manner, willingness to cut administrivia to its least parts, and his relationship with the Rowan all served to cement their devotion to him.

  Jeff took a break on the sixth day to visit the Rowan at her Altairian Tower.

  “Will you be arranging for the ceremony?” Afra asked with studied nonchalance as Jeff prepared to leave.

  “There’s no rush,” Jeff replied absently. Afra grew silent. Ready! Jeff called.

  Then he was gone and the generators wound down while the offshift crew raced to perform the little maintenance that was necessary.

  Afra was rather pleased, two days later, when Raven returned with an incredulous look on his face.

  “You knew!” he accused Afra. “You knew and you didn’t even tell me!” His eyes narrowed. “How did you know?”

  “I’ve been her friend for eight years, Jeff,” Afra responded evenly, not showing a trace of the smugness he felt. “There’s a slight variation in her that I was able to perceive.”

  “Who else knows?”

  Afra shook his head. “No one.” He looked apologetic. “I would have told you, but, after all, it isn’t precisely the sort of information one lobs off the way one launches cargo.”

  “But she didn’t even know, until last week, or so she told me. And she told me as soon as she suspected.” Jeff gave him a scrutinizing look, leaving unvoiced his amazement that Afra should know such an intimate fact.

  Afra was by that time well enough attuned to Jeff Raven that he held up his hands in protest. “An intimate fact, yes, but I’ve had to become very much aware of the Rowan on both the mental and physical levels for the last eight years. I’m delighted that the perception is verified.” He said that last with some stiffness of manner.

  Jeff sighed and nodded. “Sorry. I think I know my mate intimately, but I also know, and accept, that there are many levels of intimacy, my good friend!” His grin dissolved Afra’s coolness.

  “Are you glad it’s a boy?”

  Jeff stared at him, astounded. “I didn’t know . . .” and he shook his head in bemusement, “and I don’t think the Rowan does, either, that our child is male. I never realized that you’re a precog, too.”

  Afra shrugged. “I’m not, but the child is a boy. Or did you want a daughter? I could be wrong.”

  Jeff gave Afra a slow grin. “I haven’t yet learned to cope with my lovely Rowan. I’ll hope you’re right. I’ll need more time before I have to deal with a miniature Rowan. Though it could be fun. How about you? Game for a repeat?”

  Afra grinned back. “I don’t see as I have the option. I’m in too deep to change.”

  At that Jeff chuckled, throwing an arm around the tall Capellan’s bony shoulders. “So what happened here while I was away, eh, Afra?”

  * * *

  Afra! Raven called at the beginning of his third week as Callisto Prime, there’s a T-4 here!

  Afra popped up to the rearranged Tower. He still had misgivings over the appearance of the revamped Tower. Wires ran all over the place and were a potential danger to the unwary, but Ackerman cheerfully assured him that was to allow the Tower to be re-arranged to the Rowan’s old style if suddenly required.

  “We’ll have the new ducts laid in the next downshift,” the Stationmaster added.

  “Ah,” Afra was unruffled, “Jeff Raven, meet Gollee Gren, T-4.”

  Jeff nodded politely to Gollee, who seemed to have lost his usually glib tongue.

  “Glad to meet you,” he said absently, turning back to the Capellan. He very pointedly raised an eyebrow at Afra.

  “You’re not going to be here for the rest of your life, Jeff,” Afra began diplomatically. “At which point you will probably want to know that you can work with another T-4. Besides, Gollee needs the training.” Afra grinned maliciously when Gollee opened his mouth to protest, a response not lost on Jeff Raven.

  “I see,” Jeff said noncommittally, but it was obvious to Afra how little he liked the notion.

  Afra sighed. “The best way to prove you’ve learned something is to teach.”

  Jeff eyed him thoughtfully. “The Rowan never mentioned this aspect of your personality.”

  “The Rowan never asked me to train her, either,” Afra replied with a saccharine smirk. He wasn’t sure which reaction pleased him more: Jeff’s or Gollee’s. He stepped away from the second couch. “I’ll be within call here if either of you need me,” he added with an overly courteous bow to both as he waved a reluctant Gren to take the seat and tapped a display. “First launch is Earthward, Reidinger to catch . . .”

  As he had hoped, Gren’s mischievous stance matched Jeff Raven’s “homeboy” nature perfectly. By the end of the day the two were working the station’s cargo effortlessly.

  During the next several months, life at Callisto Station devolved into a steady, easy routine with Gren and other Talents arriving at scheduled times to work with the Denebian in broadening his ability to handle gestalt with different personalities. Afra and Ackerman noted that Jeff worked best with Gren, a report which Reidinger received with a grunt.

  I’ve been hoping to find a use for that one! Reidinger exclaimed.

  What? Met someone you can’t handle? Afra asked, amused.

  I seem to have a problem with T-4’s and -3’s, Reidinger replied imperturbably. It’d worry me except there’re so many of them I can fire ’em when I please.

  Afra refused to rise to the bait.

  * * *

  The Rowan’s return to Callisto Station five months later as a visit turned into a permanent reassignment the instant Reidinger learned that she was pregnant. Reidinger singed Afra’s mental “ears” when he admitted that he had known of the pregnancy. Well, if I can’t trust you, I’ll have to set up my own spy.

  Afra was genuinely pleased to have the Rowan back at Callisto. While he had enjoyed working with Jeff Raven, he had to admit to hi
mself that perversely he found greater comfort in his link with the unpredictable Rowan.

  “Oh, by the way, Afra, the Rowan’s been pestering me to ask you something,” Jeff said abruptly one evening as the Station closed down.

  “Oh, what?”

  “If you’ll stand as l.p. to our son?”

  “Ell Pee?”

  “Yes, loco parentis. Admittedly it’s a Denebian custom, but, considering the hazards on my planet,” and Jeff’s grin was rueful, “it ensures that someone whom the parents of a child trust will oversee its upbringing. The Rowan liked the idea as being much more personal than being made Ward of the Planet. We’d both be glad if you would be willing to stand in an l.p. capacity for our child.”

  Afra was deeply touched and it was several seconds before he could speak. “Nothing is going to happen to you!”

  Jeff silenced him with a gesture. “We certainly don’t plan on it but—”

  “And you’ve a planetful of relatives . . .” Afra hedged.

  “They’re there, of course, but it’s the Talent aspect of our child that we both want to sustain, Afra, and no one on Deneb’s got much Talent training. I know you are critical of the way you were reared on Capella, but I can say with objectivity that you’ve a large advantage in such training over me. And, besides, the Rowan and I agreed on you, Afra.” Jeff’s blue eyes were frank. He quirked his head, his characteristic smile beginning to tug at his mouth. “What do I tell her?”

  Afra smiled a soft, sad smile. “Tell her that I would be a bad choice: if something happened to either of you I would surely be dead beforehand.”

  Jeff laughed. “Don’t be morbid. You’re not precogging again, are you?” When Afra vigorously denied that, he was audibly relieved. “Besides, I’ve firsthand experience with how good an instructor you are, you know.”

  Afra bowed deeply, once more falling back on ingrained courtesies to respond. “Jeff Raven, please tell your lovely wife that I am deeply honored and will be glad to serve in loco parentis to any children of yours and to the best of my ability.”