Chapter Seventeen

Kayelle felt tired. No day lasted long enough while patients still died. She wanted to save every one of them and it was hard to feel them slip away. Death was the ultimate cheat. It left everything unanswered.

“You must rest, Kayelle,” her great grandfather spoke. “Let others bear the burden for a while.”

She felt the odd mixture of pride and bafflement in his mind. He was the Southern Tetrarch. Her work with sick and dying benefited his regime, raising his status because the other three Tetrarchs sent healers to study under Kayelle, learning from her insights into the diseases ravaging their lands. Yet, he couldn’t understand his great granddaughter’s desire to involve herself in the affairs of the Non-Adepts. It was enough to him to rule fairly. This was the role of the Adepts, not nursing the sick.

“Another hour,” she said. “I’ll rest then.”

“Remember to imprint yourself. I can tell you forgot yesterday.”

Kayelle tried to remember. It was hard. She felt so tired. “I will,” she promised. “As soon as I finish.”

She could feel his doubt, but he left her and she turned to the child in the next bed, setting her mind to scan the small body and repair the damage caused by the disease. Were it not for the inoculations, the little girl would be dead by now. The diseases mutated faster than she could find cures. What triggered the mutations?

Her headache had grown worse. She must stop soon and deal with it. Four more beds would finish this ward and she’d take a break. She finished the scan, nudged a gland or two into greater activity so the child would heal naturally and straightened. Her back protested and she had to force the movement. Her vision blurred with the effort. They should turn down the heating. The room felt like a furnace. A hand touched her arm and she turned. A bright light hurt her eyes and she closed them for a second and felt herself falling…

* * * *

Jean-Paul sat at her bedside smiling. He’d repaired the damage her carelessness did, cleansed the residue of the infection and she’d wake up refreshed. She was so wonderfully young, full of wild mood swings and youthful exuberance. He should have kept a closer eye on her, made sure she had enough help. As it was, she’d tried to do everything and worn herself out in the attempt, growing careless with the protecting imprints and the disease had gained a foothold.

Part of his mind monitored his surroundings. He’d have plenty of time to slip back into Limbo if anyone came—or she began to wake. He’d manipulated her mind into remembering him only as a dream she’d had on the night before they named her Adept, and he didn’t want to introduce any fresh memories. It might trigger flashbacks.

The ideas he’d introduced to her mind had borne magnificent fruit. Single-handedly, she’d lifted Viridian medicine to a level capable of saving the Non-Adept population from extinction. More importantly, she’d introduced the concept of noblesse oblige to the Adept’s born to rule mentality. It would take time, but she was a shining example to those struggling to attain Adept status. He would have to monitor her more closely to ensure she survived long enough. For the moment, he’d spent enough time with the worst of her patients to ensure she had a breathing space.

She stirred as a fold in the sheet beneath her caused a small discomfort and triggered an unknowing reaction. He reached down and twitched the sheet straight, his face close to hers. The kiss was almost an accident, an impulse that surprised him. Her lips felt soft and her breath sweet, but only his imagination supplied the response.

“Whoa there,” he warned himself, the words barely audible. “Don’t get carried away. She’s a child.”

A very beautiful child, he thought. Lustrous hair, so black it looked blue in the soft light of the bedside lamp, perfect olive skin, and features so classic she could have been a statue of Aphrodite herself brought to vivid life.

His father had insisted he travel extensively on the Earth before exploring the rest of the galaxy and he knew the reason. Peter still feared this reality was the creation of his mind to escape death and wanted Jean-Paul to look for links.

They were there.

Kayelle could easily have come from the sub-continent called India. Her beauty would grace any Bollywood production without seeming out of place. Viridia itself had its roots in the English word for green, describing aptly a land with its waters scattered in the form of large lakes connected by great watercourses and man-made canals. There were extensive plains, but few deserts. Because of easy waterborne transport, its population was largely homogenous, common racial characteristics everywhere, either due to a common stock or ceaseless intermarriage over countless millennia. The Diaspora from Earth had achieved the same result on the scout ships and only the advent of instantaneous travel through a non-physical space had reintroduced large variations from the planets settled early.

His report had saddened Peter, increasing the fear he hid so successfully from the others—only Karrel shared it. Yet, Jean-Paul thought otherwise. There were a hundred possible explanations for the commonality of humanity throughout this galaxy and exploring them would take valuable time away from more tasks Peter thought more urgent. Let him look into it when he stopped fighting spot fires caused by the Federation’s greed.

An attendant approached and Jean-Paul stepped back into Limbo. Kayelle was safe now.

Limbo had many strange powers, not the least of which was the portals. There were hundreds, perhaps even thousands now, each once created by one of the family in their travels, each one still accessible. He’d created a dozen or more into this world since he discovered their development of telepathic powers, and had used their imprinting technique to give Rachael, now Jack’s wife, a life span to match her husband’s.

Peter was wary of introducing the idea of Limbo to the Viridians and this suited Jean-Paul. He had no urge to manipulate the Viridians once this current emergency passed.

* * * *

She woke naturally, awareness creeping up on her rather than arriving full-blown. Her headache was gone and her body felt rested and supple again.

“Good morning. You gave us a fright,” Dandi, the healer sent by the Northern Tetrarch spoke. Older than her, but a willing learner, his motives had little to do with healing.

“Good morning.” The room felt empty, echoing, as if someone had just left. She looked around, searching for what was missing.

“The Tetrarch will want to know you’ve recovered,” Dandi said. “Would you like me to do it?”

“He’s been here.” It was a possible explanation of the empty room around her.

“No.”

“Please tell him I’m awake.”

Mind sharing was best face to face. It improved focus. There were rare Adepts who could do it without this aid and they needed a strong personal bond to achieve it. She didn’t have this with her great grandfather. She could with her mother, but not her father.

“I’ll go now.” Dandi waited for permission.

“Yes.” She suppressed a sigh at his need for permission.

He left her and Kayelle rose cautiously to dress. She wasn’t an invalid, to greet the Tetrarch from her bed.

Why were all the powerful men fools? Even her great grandfather seldom challenged accepted practices. Somewhere in her mind lay the picture of a man of power whose intelligence shone like a beacon. One day she’d find him and the sparks would fly.

“Kayelle. I was on my way to see you.” The Tetrarch entered without knocking. “How are you?”

Fortunately, she’d finished dressing, so Kayelle could pay him the proper homage of a curtsey. “I am well, Tetrarch. Ready to resume my duties.”

“I can see you are well, child. Will your duties not wait for another day? It is the gathering.”

Kayelle blinked. She’d lost a day if the annual face-to-face meeting of the four Tetrarchs was now.

“Am I needed there?” she asked, the missing day left her with much to do.

“Two Adept have died in the East, one in the North, and one in the West. You nearly died here. You are the only one to fall ill and survive. We need your knowledge.”

“I will remain,” Dandi said, stepping around the Tetrarch. “There have been no deaths in the last thirty-six hours. My small skills will suffice.”

She blinked again, at both the confirmation she had slept more than a day and the lack of deaths. Perhaps, they’d turned the corner. “Thank you, Dandi,” she said and turned to the Tetrarch. “I am at your disposal.”

“We will walk together.” He inclined his head in acknowledgement; three thousand years had set his gravitas in stone.

From some corner of her mind came the question. “Three thousand years…or one year repeated three thousand times.” She disciplined herself not to smile. Her great grandfather would not be amused, especially as there was more than a hint of truth in it. He was old, not just in years, and didn’t like change.

The Tetrarch walked ponderously, as if part of a ritual procession, and Kayelle forced herself to match his pace. “Have the others arrived?”

“Yes. Their Ships of State docked early this morning.”

The four Tetrarchs lived close to facilitate mind contact, their capitals on the corners of the cruciform of the two great waterways dividing their lands, forming the four great land masses of Viridia. The Ships of State were an affectation not a necessity, giant galleys, propelled by banks of oars, another ritual glorification of Adept status.

Why did she stand outside her class, observing them dispassionately? She’d never sensed the emotion in another Adept. Even the Non-Adept didn’t see them as she did.

Non-Adept.

The word made her cringe, as if not reaching telepathic communication was a personal failure and not a genetic accident. They might as well choose the distance between an individual’s eyes to define status.

She could feel her companion’s mind preparing for the ritual greeting that opened the gathering. Originally designed to bond the four Tetrarchs and strengthen their ability to communicate telepathically across the distances separating their capitals, it had become a vehicle for impressing the Non-Adept with the majesty of their rulers. At its heart was the extension of the simple parlor trick of several Adepts standing around an object and using telepathy to build a composite picture in each mind, all details revealed. The exercise focused the minds, increasing their ability to communicate at a distance. This might have been the intention centuries ago, now it was just pomp and circumstance.

“Child, do not denigrate what you don’t understand.” Her thoughts had leaked, catching the Tetrarch’s attention. “These rituals provide comfort to others and a goal to some. The Adept are this world’s riches. We have little in the way of natural resources. Iron is our most precious metal and rare on Viridia. The stranger’s ship may have brought disease, but it was made entirely of materials we do not know. We fear the advent of more ships. Where one came, other may follow.”

Kayelle bit her lip in shame. She’d railed against these men without thought. The Tetrarch had mind-shared the terrifying truths discovered in the stranger’s ship. Its builders commanded immense powers, impossible to replicate here for the lack of raw materials. Muscle and sinew could do much, especially when focused by levers and pulleys, but, apart from windmills and domesticated beasts, they were the only source of power on this planet. The simplest device on the stranger’s ship could do what several hundred men couldn’t.

There was worse. One of the strangers had lived long enough for the Tetrarch to scan through the agony jumbling his thoughts. Thousands of worlds lay beyond the visible sky, every one rich in the resources Viridia lacked. The pictures the Tetrarch shared felt unreal. Vast structures made of precious iron, majestic mountains soaring to the sky, immense seas, and limitless deserts, all things unknown here, and frightening in their strangeness.

The Tetrarchs were right. More strangers would come. Viridia must be ready.

* * * *

“Why not?” Jean-Paul sensed Dael’s support and fought down a smile. Peter rarely gainsaid his wife, Jean-Paul’s mother. “Karrel fooled Belen, who was far better than the Tetrarchs and you did it regularly to the group mind. Jack could use the portal I’ve left in Limbo to drop me at the gathering without compromising the method. It’s perfect timing.” Peter didn’t interrupt him. This was a good sign. “Leave it too long and their fear will take hold.”

“What do you hope to achieve?” Peter dropped the gauntlet. Jean-Paul must pick it up or back down.

* * * *

Jack exited the portal above Viridia and engaged the display screens, giving Jean-Paul a superb aerial vista.

“It is green,” Jack said. “Are there any legends of space travel? The name is unlikely to be an accident, but you’d only see it from out here.”

“What do your instruments tell you?” Jean-Paul had other concerns.

Jack had acquired a Federation survey vessel and had the full range of exploration scans at his disposal. He’d used it initially to make a detailed survey of Feodar’s World, updating the work done by Gabrielle’s scout ship thirty-five millennia ago.

“Spheroid, flattened slightly at poles, maximum variation in surface elevation is six hundred feet. Homogenous surface layer of plant detritus carrying large reserves of water is twice this depth. The high vegetation levels have elevated Oxygen level by two percent from standard. Magnetic anomalies suggest large metal deposits in the bedrock, probably accessible only by deep mining except in three places where bedrock reaches surface.”

“Printouts?”

“Coming up.” Rachael, Jack’s wife and a former Federation agent, had insisted on accompanying them. “I owe these people,” she’d said, and Jean-Paul knew she was speaking about the imprinting.

“Mark the four capital cities on the maps,” Jean-Paul said. “It will give me a reference point.”

“Yes, sir!” Rachael threw him a derisive salute. “Three bags full, sir!”

“Please mark the four capital cities on the map,” Jean-Paul amended.

Telepathic communication carried so much more than words and Rachael was still new to it. She insisted the words contain the courtesies as well. The red in her hair was no accident and she didn’t entirely trust the Alliance. They took more risks than was logical for immortals in her view. Jean-Paul hoped she gave her husband more latitude than she gave the rest of the family. He’d heard her question Peter sharply more than once and Dael had whispered a secret to him just before they left. Pregnancy brought mood swings and Jack was in for a hard time.

“The gathering has begun.” Jack monitored more than the instruments. “It’s time for our entrance.”

* * * *

Kayelle stood at the rear of the balcony, hidden from the Great Square, as the four Tetrarchs projected an image with their minds, making the stone cube in the center of the Square appear to lift and rotate on its vertical axis so the different colors on each face blended into one, the green of Viridia. The reaction from the crowd proved the wisdom of keeping symbolism simple.

She’d had her audience with the Tetrarchs, sharing everything she knew about the diseases from the stranger’s ship, including her suspicions about the purpose of the device containing them. They’d had trouble accepting this concept and she could hardly advance the memory of a dream as validation.

Bored with the familiar ritual, a distant rumble distracted her. It sounded like thunder, but the sky was clear of clouds. It persisted, impinging on the ceremony enough for the Tetrarchs to cut it short. The stone cube appeared to return to its position on the plinth.

Heads turned now. The crowd collectively faced the East and the source of the approaching roar. It was a speck at first, but grew quickly to a bat-winged shape. Its color changed from black to silver as it drew near and then hovered one thousand feet above the square. The roar changed pitch. A beam of intense light sprang from its underside, striking the top of the cube and in its center a male figure formed, its features indistinct.

“Greetings,” he said. “May I land my ship here?”

Shock held everyone motionless, Tetrarchs, Adept, and Non-Adept alike. Only Kayelle retained the power of speech. “How much room do you need?” she asked.

The figure appeared to turn, facing her. “If you could ask the people to clear the square, it would be adequate.”

The Southern Tetrarch turned to her and nodded. He’d recognized the figure as the focus for a mind projection.

“We will begin immediately.” Kayelle used her mind, not her voice.

“Thank you.”

The beam of light vanished, taking the figure with it.

The four Tetrarchs took charge of the operation and the Non-Adepts obeyed the instructions of the Adepts scattered amongst them, moving to ring the Square with a crowd twenty deep in places.

“Is this enough space?” Kayelle asked, looking up at the ship hovering above.

“Yes, thank you. I am landing now.”

The ship descended, growing in size and detail. When it flew a hundred feet above them, the clothes of the people lining the square began to flutter in a strange wind. Kayelle had joined the Tetrarchs at the balcony and she felt the wind pushing her back. It was warm and vibrating with an intensity to set her teeth on edge. Three tubular columns grew from the ship’s underside, extending twenty feet downwards, the bottom sections pivoting to become feet. They touched the ground gently and the roar died away, taking with it the wind. The silence lasted for almost a minute before a door opened and a ramp extended to the ground.

A figure appeared at the top of the ramp and descended. He wore a one-piece body-hugging garment in Viridian green and Kayelle recognized him.

It hadn’t been a dream after all.