Damia's Children (17 page)

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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

BOOK: Damia's Children
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For just this Hive maneuver, every ship in the
squadron had been provided with eight highspeed pursuit craft cradled in the shuttle bays.

Optimism spread and defeatism dissolved as the Humans began to psych themselves up for their encounter with this implacable enemy and destroyer. The fatalism which always motivated a 'Dini soldier began to seep into their Human allies as Spktm pointed out primary targets for the initial assault. Then the Human captains began to embrace the actual, not the theoretical, aspects of the possibility of their first space battle in generations.

*   *   *

Finally Thian was asked to inform both homeworlds of the discovery of an as yet unidentified object. Thian decided he'd tell Jeff Raven, as Earth Prime, first.

Shouldn't we wait to find out if the thing's really dangerous?
Jeff asked.

I'm following orders, sir.

As indeed you should, even with news as momentous as this.
Jeff replied equably.
It does add a little spice to an otherwise dull day. I'm passing the word to the High Council so you can expect to be on call now for messages. Are you a hard sleeper?

No, sir.

Well, get what you can when you can. That's the down side of this job. Ah, yes, High Council is calling an emergency session. Have you apprised the Mrdinis yet? Do so immediately. It is only proper you would inform your own species first.

When Thian 'pathed Laria, she erupted with what he felt was unprofessional excitement; more nearly exultation of a bloodthirsty variety.

I'm not blood-lusting
, Laria replied with some indignation,
I'm
practicing 'Dini hurrahs. They've waited so long for a breakthrough like this.

We don't know if it
is
a breakthrough, sis.

Go find out! Like Mother did! The suspense would kill me.

Mother didn't KNOW what was out there, then, or I'll bet she wouldn't have gone.

But how long before we know?
Laria demanded, her mind sparkling with excitement. She was positively bloodthirsty, Thian thought.

Even at the speeds we're traveling, it'll take several days to close the distance between us.

What about probes?

We're not even close enough for a probe, even those new hypersensitive ones.

But Laria had planted the notion in his head of a 'portational reconnaissance and he couldn't shake it out. It might redress the impression the 'Dinis had that Humans were unnecessarily cautious. Even among his own kind, he'd accrue considerable prestige from such a daring action. And, speaking of suspense, establishing a definite ID would improve morale considerably. Waiting was always the worst part of any ordeal. Also, if Thian could prove himself, he might even get rid of Malice. Most of that person's dislike centered around him being a
civilian
on a naval mission, a weasel-lover on a human-crewed ship, a snot-nosed kid who'd been pampered all his life because of a lucky genetic break.

When they got somewhat closer—for even his mother had not risked going too far from her power base—he might just mention it to Captain Ashiant. Thian knew his strengths but he also
knew his own limitations. Lucky he knew himself to be: but not snot-nosed.

Busy as he became, hauling in more supplies, retrieving crewmates from their home planets for all shore leave was canceled, Thian also quickly found a way to answer the pressing need of his 'Dinis. Hibernation was not considered a dereliction of duty for usually only immature or post-mature 'Dinis went on long-distance duty. As it happened, several 'Dini observers from the High Council on Clarf required transport to the KLTL and KLTS so Thian arranged that Mur and Dip would have space on the return trip. Mur and Dip had the dubious pleasure of accompanying four of the largest 'Dinis Thian had ever seen.

He missed his life-long friends almost as soon as he lost their “touch” as Laria took control of their capsule at the changeover point. This was not like their yearly retreat on Iota Aurigae: they weren't a matter of kilometers away in a hillside he could see from his bedroom window. Their companionship had also afforded him relief from his anomalous position on the
Vadim.
He missed them more as his workload increased and tensions rose, in him and throughout the ship and squadron.

Two days after the sighting, he had an unusual interview with Captain Ashiant.

“You've handled yourself extremely well, young Lyon,” Ashiant began, steepling his fingers and staring so hard at him that Thian began to worry about what the man was leading up to. “I gather that our 'Dini allies find our attitudes towards a possible engagement at odds with theirs.”

“They've fought the Hivers for centuries, with
considerably more direct experience than Humans have had.”

“They also consider there's only one way to promulgate this war.”

“They've only found one that's successful in destroying the enemy. Any other outcome is unacceptable considering what this enemy does unchecked.”

“Well, at the risk of appearing cowardly, Humans have usually,” and Ashiant stressed the adverb, “found that retreat can often result in significant victory.”

“Humans have only been up against a Hive ship once,” Thian was obliged to remind him. “The scout ships don't, apparently, count.”

“That's not what I wish to discuss with you. If we come up against a viable Hive ship this time, young Lyon, you will act upon these special orders should the special circumstances arise,” and Ashiant handed over a transparent pencil file. “You have an eidetic memory. This destructs after one reading and leaves no trace in your terminal.”

Carefully Thian inserted the file in his breast pocket.

“You will memorize the contents, and then forget them until you are required to implement the orders.” Ashiant rose to pace the long side of his ready room. “I intend to commit the
Vadim
as thoroughly as our Mrdini allies will commit their ships. In the event the
Vadim
is committed past the point of return and orders are given to abandon ship . . .” Thian held his breath, fear trickling down his arms and legs at such a contingency, “. . . you will ensure that the nine people on that pencil file are 'ported to safety. And that
you
,” Ashiant
swung about to point his forefinger at Thian, “leave with them. Are you clear on that point?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How many of the Talents on board have you contacted?”

“Only six so far.”

“Well, do what is necessary so that, in the event the generators can't assist you, you can effect the removal of the persons in your orders. They do
not
have the option of remaining. Are you clear on that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are nine too many for you to cope with?”

“No, sir.”

“We'll be holding pod drills frequently over the next few days so you're to familiarize yourself with the equipment and those in your pod. Each lifeboat has an engine as well as the initial breakaway thruster. I'm not certain how much power that will give you which is why you must use the other Talents as boosters. If the order to abandon ship is given, you are
first
,” and again the index finger jabbed in his direction, “to get in your own escape pod, then make sure that the others get in, too. If the worst possible circumstances ensue, and you are the only survivor, you leave! You cannot be jeopardized.”

“Because I'm a
civilian?
” Thian asked, indignant with hurt pride even as he recognized that as an immature reaction.

“No, sirree sir, because you're a Prime . . . and because you'll have had access to most of the information other captains and experts would need to combat the next Hive ship we encounter.” Ashiant waited a full beat and then added with a
rueful smile, “You're much more valuable alive, young Lyon. Before that blip appeared on our screens, this was not a dangerous assignment. It is now and you were not to be endangered. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good lad,” and the captain gave Thian an approving thump on his shoulder. That comradely gesture reduced the resentment he'd been feeling. “Now, implement your orders, Mister Lyon.”

The orders were signed by the High Council Coordinator and, although several of the names surprised Thian, he had them memorized long before the pencil file disintegrated. As he made necessary, but discreet, contact with the other Talents, he also began to meet some odd resistance and reactions from crewmembers, men and women who had been at least polite to him. He found the answer to that hostility from Gravy. They'd met from time to time in the officers' mess and in the corridors, but he hadn't been able to find a time when they were both off-shift and he could outline what might be expected of her as a Talent. But it had become necessary for him to seek her out and he found her alone in the gym, working out on the rowing apparatus.

“I'm glad to see you, too, Thian,” she said, mopping her brow and resting her arms on the oars. “I've heard some spaceflot that I don't really want to report to the captain . . .” She cocked her head at him and he sensed her hesitation. “You know I've got a little Talent?”

“Yes,” he said, sliding into the apparatus next to her, “in fact, I'm glad I've a chance to talk to you
because I'm supposed to touch bases with all Talents on the ship.”

“Hmmm, in case of emergency, yes, I sort of figured you'd get around to me on that score,” she said equably. “I'm not sure what good I'll be. I'm only an empath . . .”

Thian grinned at her. “Don't knock it, Gravy.
Only an empath
is much more helpful than
only
a receiving or sending 'path.”

“But what good would I be?”

“It's like this, Gravy,” and he found himself more easy with her than with anyone else on the
Vadim
, the very reason why her empathy was so valuable, especially as a nurse. “Should an emergency arise when I'd have to tap into all the Talent on board, your empathic strength is added to the pool. You're down as a T-5 which is the highest, bar me, on the
Vadim.
You'd be more help than you might realize. Now, what's this spaceflot?”

She frowned. “It's talk but it's nothing . . . good.”

Thian wondered if Malice was showing his hand. “Don't worry about my feelings, Gravy.”

She gave him a very direct look. “You may think you're fooling others, and you are, actually, since you're so good at what you do, but I happen to know you're not as old, despite that sexy silver streak of yours, as you'd want others think you are. Especially when you're teaching . . .” and she grinned at him, to take the sting from her message, “you sound exactly like our Professional Ethics prof, so stuffy and precise . . . Of course, speaking 'Dini makes you
be
precise or you garble everything . . .”

“Gravy, you're hedging,” he said, not prying but recognizing a delaying tactic.

“Partly because I think the rumor's so stupid,” she said with some heat, and then rushed on to say, “but there's some think you're a glory-grabber.”

“What?” Thian laughed in surprise, more relieved than he could ever let Gravy realize. He couldn't imagine how anyone could have overheard his interview with the captain, or known of the special preservation list, but if that was what Gravy had heard, such orders were already compromised.

“They seem to think that you'll reach out with your Talent and somehow do what the Fleet ought to be doing.”

Thian laughed more heartily then. “Gravy, that's not very likely. Not to mention impossible.”

“But you Talents did that at Deneb. Twice!”

“Talents, plural, Gravy. In fact every Talent available down to kids of ten and twelve. Not singular, me, with a dozen minor Talents to assist. There's no way I could or would grab any glory. 'Sides which, I do know my limitations. Heroism is not indicated.”

She gave a sniff. “Heroes happen. Generally,” and now she grinned rakishly at him, “when it's
not
indicated.” Then her expression altered to earnestness. “However wrong the thinking is, it's there and it's not good. Folks are odd. I mean, here you got a lot of 'em home for shore leave—even if it got canceled—and you'd think they'd be at least grateful. But no, they're out to find something . . . something . . .”

“Negative?” Thian suggested, knowing exactly
what people could find to disparage about the Talented.

“That'll do,” she said. Then, in a rush of empathy, she put her hand on his arm. “You're a nice guy, Thian, and I'll do what I can to offset the flot. D'you want me to report it to Ashiant?”

“Only if you have something specific that has an adverse effect on morale as a whole,” he managed to say, more distracted by the warm hand on his arm, and her very feminine presence, the delicate floral taste of her, than he thought possible.

She caught his response, though, because he was lax in reining in his thoughts, because he hadn't felt the need to shield in Gravy's company, and because he was missing the company of Mur and Dip.

“Sometimes it's better to squash a rumor as flat as possible—especially right now when we might be heading into action,” she said, keeping her hand on his arm so that he couldn't help but “read” her which, he also realized, was exactly her intention. Her very expressive eyes confirmed it.

“I thought,” he began in a sort of daze, “that's when rumors would multiply, a sort of combat-readiness reaction.”

“Hmmm,” she said, leaning into him, clearly no longer interested in the previous subject of conversation. “D'you know where I got my nickname?” she asked.

Thian rather thought he did but he hedged in a sudden fit of shyness. He had had that dream involving her, and he'd dreamed long enough with 'Dinis to know that there were true ones.

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