V
It was 0900 Standard, 0600 at the MacLeod's Landing time she was accustomed to, when Corina was awakened by her doorchime. "Who is there?" she called, stretching herself out of bed.
"It's just me, Sunbeam," came from the door speaker.
"Come in," Corina called back, taking her kilt from the autocloset. She slipped into it, then stuck her head around the partition. "Can you wait a few minutes while I brush myself?"
"Sure thing," Sunbeam replied. "I'm yours to command, Sir Corina; remember Captain Hobison assigned me to you yesterday?"
"I remember," Corina said. "I do not wish to inconvenience you, however. I will be with you soon." The closet, she was glad to see, had cleaned her kilt; otherwise it would be looking rather bedraggled by midday. She went through her morning routine, then walked into the living area ready to face the new day.
"What do you want to do this morning?" Sunbeam asked.
"That is hard to say," Corina replied thoughtfully. "It all depends on what Ranger Medart has planned for me. Right now, though, I would like a glass of milk." She started toward the service panel, but Sunbeam was already there.
"I'll get it for you," Sunbeam said. "I could use a glass myself."
"Thank you." Corina wasn't used to having others do things for her, but she sensed that Sunbeam was agitated about something and wanted to move around, so she sat in one of the armchairs, tucking her feet under herself.
She took the glass Sunbeam brought, enjoyed a deep swallow, then said, "What is disturbing you, Sunbeam? Can I help?"
"Well…" Sunbeam hesitated, then blurted, "It's that demonstration you gave yesterday. Stars above! The whole ship's talking about how you put down five top Marines with no more trouble than I'd have, oh, swatting a fly! I'm about half scared to be in the same room with you!"
"You should not be," Corina said, projecting amusement to try and calm the human Ensign. "I am the same person you met yesterday, and I certainly had no intention of frightening anybody."
Sunbeam ventured a half smile. "Maybe not, but you did a great job without meaning to, then."
"Are the Marines all right?"
"They're fine, from what I hear," was the slightly steadier reply. "Except for their pride; that was pretty badly battered." Sunbeam paused, then grinned. "Four of them, anyway. That cute Sandeman keeps saying how pretty you are, and what a warrior you'd be if you'd been lucky enough to be born on Sandeman. If I didn't know better, I'd say he has a crush on you."
"I am quite content being Irschchan," Corina said, no longer needing to pretend her amusement. "Though I must admit his compliments are flattering… I do regret causing the others distress, though the demonstration was necessary. Nor was there any dishonor in their defeat; they did as well as possible for those who lack Talent."
Sunbeam looked more cheerful. "Maybe it would help if you told them so."
"I will, then, at the first opportunity."
"And you should see Colonel Greggson!" Sunbeam barely managed to suppress a giggle. "He's grumping around the ship like an old bear, snapping at everyone. I don't think he's too fond of you. Maybe I shouldn't say it, but he keeps talking about an oversized kitten making monkeys out of his men."
"He seemed to dislike me even before that," Corina said.
"Probably. He isn't too fond of non-humans, and he doesn't even like many of us. Sometimes I don't think he even likes himself. But there aren't many of that kind aboard Chang; most of our people are really nice. You'll like them."
There was another chime at the door. Without bothering to find out who it was, Corina called out, "Come in."
Medart entered, and she and Sunbeam stood.
"I'd like to talk to Sir Corina alone," he told Sunbeam. "Can you find something to keep yourself occupied till we're done?"
"Can I ever!" Sunbeam exclaimed happily. "I've been trying to finish that new xenology tape for days!"
Medart shook his head slowly, watching her leave with a lopsided grin. Then he seated himself in the other armchair and gazed intently at Corina for several seconds. She returned the look with equal intensity, wishing she could get through this unusual human's mind screen.
Finally he spoke. "I have to ask you something very important, Sir Corina. I don't want you to answer me now; I just want you to think about it for awhile. Will you do that?"
"Of course," she replied, puzzled by his strangely hesitant manner.
"I was talking to the Emperor again earlier today. I spent most of the morning studying your records, then told him what I'd found. We were both quite impressed." Medart paused, seeming unsure of himself, then hurried on. "We need more Rangers, especially non-human ones, and you more than qualify. We're—I'm asking you to consider joining us."
Corina's first reaction was to wonder about Medart's mental stability. He couldn't possibly be serious!
No, from the look on his face, he was serious. "I cannot," she protested, shaking her head. "I have not even finished school—I am to graduate this summer, and Thark did not insist I join the Prime Chapter until then—I am only twenty-two, Standard, I could not possibly—"
"Hold it," Medart interrupted mildly. "You said you'd think about it before you answered. I'm keeping you to that."
"Urr… all right." Corina nodded reluctantly. She would not be graduating, or joining the Prime Chapter, or… She forced those thoughts from her mind. The past was past; she had to go on. "I did say that. But I will not change my mind."
"Don't be too sure," Medart said. "At least three of us said the same thing, and they're part of the group now."
Both were silent for almost a minute, with Corina trying to think of some way to change the subject, and at last she succeeded. "I have an idea I would like to try, Ranger, if you have no objection."
"That depends on the idea. What is it?"
It wasn't really a strong conviction, more of a feeling, but Corina said, "Unlike Thark, I believe that humans, at least some, do have Talent and simply do not know how to use it. Were you an Irschchan, with a mind shield as strong as the one you certainly possess, I would be sure that your other Talents were equally strong. What I would like to do, if I can get past your screen, is to find out if that is the case. If it is, I would then teach you to use your Talent."
Medart sat in silent shock. Esper ability? Him? The psych people kept trying to find real espers, but until Corina revealed her Talent— despite what she'd said about the Rhine experiments, he didn't consider them either complete or conclusive—he'd heard of nothing he found convincing. If he weren't adaptable, though, he wouldn't be a Ranger; after a few seconds, he said, "You really think there's a chance of that?"
"A chance—that is all I am certain of, but yes, I think there is."
"Let's try for it, then."
"One caution," she said. "Even if you have the potential I think possible from your shield, I have never trained anyone before."
"That's all right. I'm willing to take the chance if you are."
"Very well. You will have to let down your screen, however, before we can accomplish anything. It would be best if you can drop it willingly, though since you were unaware of its existence, that may not be possible. If not, perhaps we can weaken it by inducing a relaxed emotional state. I will not attempt to break through with darlas, though I am sure I could, because it would be extremely painful at best, and it would probably damage or destroy your mind. Nor, most certainly, will I do what was done during the struggles to establish the Order."
Omnivorous curiosity was part of a Ranger's job description; Medart indulged his. "What was that?"
Corina's ears went back in distaste. "The infliction of systematic pain, weakening both the will and the ability to resist."
"I wouldn't want that," Medart agreed. "We try the voluntary part first, right? You'll have to tell me how to do it, though; until you said something about it yesterday, I never even considered the possibility of having one. And which is it—shield or screen?"
"The terms are used interchangeably, though technically a screen is less powerful than a shield. I will try to be more precise henceforth. Yours is a shield, and I am not sure I can tell you in words how to let it down; you may have to work that out. It can be described as a sort of mental force field, with your mind as generator and field both. You have to relax, deactivate the generator as it were."
Medart closed his eyes, leaned back in the chair, and relaxed all his muscles. Corina concentrated on his shield, ready to slip through the smallest opening, watching his face as he tried something totally beyond his experience.
A sort of mental force field, Medart thought. He knew how to turn off a standard field; all that took was touching a control. This was a lot more nebulous. He didn't have any switches to throw or dials to turn, he had to deactivate part of himself. Relax, she'd said. What were a couple of those tricks Jasmine had tried to teach him?
Deep breathing, he remembered. That was supposed to help, as long as you didn't overdo and hyperventilate. In and hold, then out and hold was the pattern. He began the exercise, doing the best he could to relax—though he couldn't help wondering how he'd know if he succeeded.
After what seemed like an hour, he opened his eyes. "How'm I doing?"
"I noticed no reduction in field strength," Corina said. "You are too—it is difficult to put properly. Defensive, perhaps, or suspicious. If this is to work, you must trust me." She thought for a minute, then took the dagger from her belt and held it out to the Ranger, hiding a wince of anticipation at his touch. "Perhaps it will be easier if I am not armed."
Medart took the soul-blade, too surprised not to. Unlike Dawson, he knew the blade's significance, and could appreciate Corina's action. She had to be really determined about this working, he thought. Thark's betrayal must have hurt even more than he'd gathered earlier. "Let's give it another try, then. But it isn't easy turning off something you never knew was on."
"True." Corina was surprised to find his touch on her blade didn't bring discomfort. That was highly unusual, but she was becoming accustomed to unusual things around this human. "Again, try to relax. I will continue to check your progress."
"Right." For the second time, Medart closed his eyes and began the deep-breathing routine. In and hold… body relaxed… out and hold… cat-clean scent… in and hold… cat-and-mouse… oh, hell!
"What is it, Ranger?" There had been a flash, an instant of touch too fast for her to grasp and expand, then nothing.
"This isn't going to work, and I think I know what the problem is. Every time I try to relax, I see those four Marines stunned on the deck and the other one with your knife at his throat."
"So your undermind considers me dangerous, is trying to protect you from that. Yes, that is reasonable." Corina thought for a moment. "I seemed to get the impression of memory-smell, though I cannot be sure. And perhaps of a small feline. When MacLeod discovered Irschcha, he thought of us at first as 'overgrown pussycats', and other humans seemed to agree. Perhaps if you thought of me as some sort of domestic pet?"
Medart considered that idea, then chuckled. "I used to raise Siamese cats, and you Irschchans do remind me of them. It's worth a try."
Kimi and Saren, his first pair. Not Saren, who'd been on the blocky side for a Siamese; young Losinj was more like Kimi, slender and incredibly graceful. She'd climb up on his lap, butt his chin with her head to demand that he scratch behind her ears…
Corina, observing carefully, felt his shield start to weaken. That continued until she was able to catch a mental picture of herself, with parts of her fur more deeply colored, curled up on the Ranger's lap and purring with contentment while he gently scratched behind her ears.
She echoed his amusement silently, then began examining his mind pattern. She was careful not to let him realize what she was doing, though she was reasonably sure he could not feel her check. That was both quick and thorough, his mental "atmosphere" far less murky than the other humans she had touched—and his patterns were clear as well, easy to read and work with. His Talent was unmistakable—his potential Talent, she corrected herself; he might not be able to learn its use.
She could at least try activating his latent telepathic ability. That might be somewhat delicate, given his humanity, but with such clear patterns, it should not be particularly difficult. She knew the theory, and Thark had done the same for her; it was merely a matter of redirecting the mental impulses of communication from the speech center to the TP center, something she ought to be able to do without him even realizing the change was being made.
*That is a little better,* she thought at him while pretending to speak aloud. *Perhaps if we combine what you are doing now with a discussion of something else for awhile, it will be more effective.*
"Yeah, maybe." Excellent, Corina thought. He could definitely receive, then—a very good sign. "What do you want to talk about?"
*It does not really matter. Something you like, a memory you find relaxing or humorous.* She felt her ears twitch nervously, hoped he did not notice. The redirection she was attempting was indeed simple, but delicate with the human-different patterns however clear they were, and she needed no extra complications.
"There aren't too many of those in a Ranger's life," Medart said slowly. It was rather like listening to a simultaneous echo, Corina thought as she very cautiously nudged the flow of impulses. "It's a damn good life, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't have many laughs, and the most satisfying parts are usually the result of a lot of work, and sometimes pain." He chuckled, ruefully. "Exactly what I shouldn't be telling someone I'm trying to get to join us, I guess—but if you pay attention to Imperial news, you picked up on that for yourself. As someone said a lot of years ago, Rangers and active Life Nobles tend to get into 'dangerously interesting situations'."
It seemed like a good enough subject, as well as having a strong bearing on the offer he had just made her, so Corina pursued it. *True. I find it difficult to believe, however, that individuals of such value are permitted to place their lives at serious risk so frequently.*
Medart chuckled. "We're perfectly aware of our value, believe me, and we're just as fond of life as anyone else—maybe more so, since we're at risk so often. But there're some things worth the risk—a feeling you share, or you wouldn't be here."
*Also true,* Corina conceded. *The Empire has given my people much; saving it for them, and others, is something I think well worth the risk I took. But I am a private individual; no one may forbid me to take whatever risks I judge necessary.*
Medart grew thoughtful, making it easier for Corina to establish the mental pathway she was working at. He was still speaking aloud, though. "We aren't, but that evaluation is still up to us; if we think the situation's worth risking a Ranger, or if it needs our abilities, we go in ourselves. If not, we send in someone else—and that's a hell of a lot harder, I'll tell you right now."
*Thinking of one's own life objectively is difficult,* Corina agreed. *I believe I would find it difficult to think of my life as having more value than another person's.*
*Or a group's,* Medart said, speech now echoing telepathy. *You learn eventually, but it is hard, especially at first. We've all made at least one bad call, usually going in when we should've sent someone. That hasn't been fatal so far, and doesn't even always mean getting hurt—but Steve Tarlac's first solo mission came within an hour or so of being his last.*
*I believe I have heard about that incident,* Corina sent, *but would you mind refreshing my memory?*
*It got made into a holoshow, so I'd be surprised if you hadn't—but okay, why not? He got captured by a group of rebels—a lot smaller scale than this rebellion, just one system—who beat him with a whip they'd soaked in a particularly nasty poison. He'd refused a comm implant for reasons he never explained, so I can't argue them, but it meant he couldn't call for help. If it hadn't been for a young camper who rescued him, and one of the rebels who decided to call the Marines when a Ranger got hurt, he'd have died of stingweed poisoning. The rebel was killed by his former colleagues before Marines could get to him to protect him, but the youngster earned a Life Dukedom.*
*I believe I do remember,* Corina sent. Medart's voice had kept getting softer, and by the time he finished, he was using only telepathy. The redirection was successful, the new pathway now established. Still, Corina hoped he would not realize it right away, would instead remain intent on the conversation for at least a few minutes more to strengthen the new pattern. *The young man was David Scanlon, was he not? And he cared for Ranger Tarlac in a cave, was in the middle of a gun battle with the rebels when the Marines arrived. I have wondered if that part was the holo director's dramatic license, or if it actually happened that way.*
*That was how it happened,* Medart assured her. *Scanlon wasn't about to give up, either, according to the Marines' testimony. He insisted that one of them come into the cave to prove @'s identity before he'd give up his blaster—and when he did, he only had one half-exhausted powerpack, and a knife for a backup. That was one brave and determined young man.*
*I must agree. Ranger Tarlac was most fortunate he and the unusual rebel were in the area.*
*Right, but the Traiti'll tell you it was the Circle of Lords looking after him. Speaking of which, how do you feel about religion?*
*I know it is a subject both important and sensitive to humans, so I normally hesitate discuss it. To most Irschchans, religion is a rather peculiar aberration; while a deity or deities may exist, they are unnecessary and none have shown any proof of themselves. I prefer to regard them as interesting possibilities. May I ask you the same question?*
*I was raised Omnist, and it stuck; I believe in one Creator and a wide assortment of secondary gods. I have no more proof than you do, but since that's how I was raised and I can't disprove their existence, I accept them, though I'm not what you'd call devout. Most of us are either Omnist or agnostics, like you, and the rest aren't dogmatic about their beliefs being the only truth.* He chuckled. *Naturally, since the Empire doesn't promote any given religion or lack thereof.*
*Quite understandable, from what I have read of human history.* Corina was no longer pretending vocal speech, though she wasn't being obvious about her silence; he was doing well enough that he deserved a fair chance to discover how he was "speaking" to her.
At that thought, he gave her a sharp look. "How I'm doing what?"
*You have been using telepathy alone for the last few minutes,* Corina sent with a purr. *And you have surpassed your teacher; it was some weeks before I could receive thoughts not specifically directed at me.*
Medart rose and stalked to where she sat still purring with satisfaction, and glared at her, fists on his hips. "You tricked me!" Then he gave her one of his lopsided grins. *But I guess you had to, didn't you?*
*I am afraid so,* Corina agreed, pleased but not surprised by the Ranger's rapid grasp of the situation. "It was the only way I could get past your shield."
"How long?"
"Since that mental picture you had of me curled up in your lap. It relaxed and amused you enough that you dropped your shield to the point where I could get past."
"Well, I'll… be… damned," Medart said, half in admiration and half in wonder. "I never felt a thing."
"You were not supposed to," Corina said calmly. "If you had, the procedure would have been a failure."
"Can I work it on humans? Did you find anything else?"
"I know of no reason you could not. In fact, you should find it easier with other humans than with me, because the basic mind pattern ought to be more similar. As for your other question, you do have much potential; it remains to be seen if you can develop it. Your mind shield can be made stronger with practice, and there is unusually powerful darlas latent. I sensed no traces of the other usual Talents."
She paused, then continued, puzzled. "There is also something else, but I cannot be sure what it is. I have never before sensed such an aspect of Talent. Even describing it vaguely is difficult." She paused again, laying her ears back in a frown. "The closest I can come would be to call it a sort of darlas in reverse, but that is almost pathetically inadequate."
Medart could feel her puzzlement changing to amusement, echoed it with some of his own when she sent, *And Thark believes humans are unTalented! Undeveloped and untrained, most certainly, but hardly unTalented. You have not bred for it, even as indirectly as we have, so the percentage of Talented humans is probably much lower than it is for Irschchans, but—*
*—we're hardly the total incompetents he thinks we are,* Medart finished.
"True. However, he does not know that and would not be convinced merely by being told, even if we knew his location and were able to communicate with him; his beliefs, once established, require overwhelming proof to be changed." Her ears twitched. "I have thought about contacting him telepathically, but even if he were to accept my mind-touch, which I am certain he would not, he no longer trusts me enough to believe my unsupported word."
"I'm afraid you're right," Medart agreed. "There's not going to be any easy way to end this Crusade of his. I'm just hoping the information you've already given us, and the help you're still going to give, will let us stop it without too much bloodshed."
"I hope so, as well," Corina said, her tone as serious as his. "Irschchan culture was quite chaotic and warlike at one time, but the Order was a civilizing influence, and the idea of unnecessary bloodshed has become quite unpleasant."
"Civilizing influence? I suppose so," Medart said with less than total agreement. "It did cut down on warfare, which is a major benefit—but I still say it caused stagnation, too. Your progress slowed from faster than ours to almost nothing after the Order took over, in the name of stability. Even slower than the Traiti, and for them gradual progress is the norm. It took you fifteen hundred years to go from a crude aircraft to just a system-capable spacecraft—it took Terra less than a hundred."
"That was fortunate for you," Corina said with a touch of pique. "Otherwise Terra would be an Irschchan subject world rather than the center of a growing Empire." Then her tone grew softer. "But I was raised an Imperial citizen, and I am glad of it. If the Academy accepts me, I will be able to travel, always finding out new things… meeting people of all races and species…"
Her voice trailed off, and Medart was struck by the sudden enthusiasm and warmth replacing her normal controlled formality. No, he mused, she'd never be happy in a society as static as Irschcha's, even as a member of its ruling elite.
She was quiet now, gazing wide-eyed into nowhere, and Medart decided to try his new ability. He sent a faint, wordlessly-questing thought at her, and was rewarded with a mental image she had of herself. She was clad in Imperial Navy service blue with an ensign's stripe, standing on the bridge of a ship. The vessel appeared to be much smaller than the Chang, and it was highly imaginative—didn't correspond to any actual class—but he got the feeling it might be a courier or perhaps a scout.
He withdrew, letting the picture fade from his mind. So that was her dream. She could achieve it easily with her ability, of course, and more… yet what a waste it would be. Anything short of the Rangers would be a waste as far as she was concerned, but he knew he couldn't force her into that decision. There were compensations, sure, but it was still a tough job, one that had to be taken on willingly. He could and would use all his powers of persuasion; he could not and would not use any form of coercion.
He'd been turned down once before, which had been disappointing—but Corina's refusal would be worse. He wanted to make her accept the Empire's need of her, its desperate urgency to make the best possible use of such outstanding minds—especially, now, a non-human's. Linda Ellman might have found it easier to persuade the young Irschchan, he thought. She'd said Steve Tarlac had had a similar lack of self-confidence when she'd recruited him. But that was nothing but idle dreaming; this was up to him, not to Linda.
He shrugged, then said, "Sir Corina?"
She shivered slightly, returning to reality. "Yes, Ranger?"
"It's almost noon. Why don't I call Sunbeam, then you two have lunch and get her to show you the ship? I have some work to do, and if you're planning on going to the Academy you'll want to know all you can about the Navy."
"Yes, I think I should. Personal experience is far superior to mere study. But you need to rest, give your undermind a chance to adjust to the idea of telepathy. Your overmind accepts it now; the undermind is normally slower to accept change."
"I can't really rest," Medart said slowly. "I don't have the time. I can work on something that won't take too much thinking, though. Good enough?"
"I suppose it will have to be, though true rest is better." While Medart called Sunbeam, Corina thought. Her former teacher meant well, she was sure, had turned traitor out of conviction that it was necessary and not for gain… yet the thing which had made him think the humans unfit for rule, their lack of Talent, was not the case. How would he take it when he could finally be convinced of his error? Would he do as honor demanded, or would he continue his treason?
"We'll find out when it comes to that, won't we?" Medart responded. "This works between us; I'd like to try it on Sunbeam, make sure it really does work for me with humans."
Fascinating that he could read her undirected thoughts while doing something totally unconnected, Corina mused. She could prevent that by shielding, of course, but it was her first experience with it, and she preferred not to. Such contact was not unusual between Talented family members or extremely close friends, but Medart was neither, and she had not found herself reading him that way.
"Maybe you know you shouldn't be able to, so you can't, but I don't, so I can?"
Corina purred, wishing she could laugh. "That is as reasonable an explanation as we are likely to get, I would say. But I am not sure I can approve of you attempting to read Sunbeam. It is honorable to probe the unTalented only when truly necessary, since they cannot defend themselves—and you do not know your own strength; if you should accidentally use darlas against her, she could be seriously hurt."
"I don't want to hurt her, of course," Medart said, "but I think this is necessary. I need to know all I can about Talent, especially yours and mine—and so far you're the only one I've read."
"That is true." Corina thought for a moment, then nodded. "I can monitor, and if you should begin using darlas, protect her. It is a risk, but in this case justifiable."
The door signal chimed, and Corina called, "Come in, Sunbeam."
"Ready for lunch, Sir Corina?" the small ensign asked as she entered. "I sure am!"
"In a moment, Sunbeam," Corina replied. *Try now, Ranger, while I speak to her.*
*You can talk and still monitor?*
*If you can read me while thinking of something else, why not?* Corina continued aloud, to Sunbeam. "Did you get to finish your xenology tape?"
"I sure did," was the enthusiastic reply. "It was fascinating, too—I may take a full course on it, and who knows? I may decide to switch to Sciences instead of staying a Line officer. I just wish there were some way I could do both—there's so much to learn, and so much to do!"
Corina purred. "Perhaps there is, or could be. I do not see the two desires as exclusive; perhaps Ranger Medart can investigate a combined Line/Science section."
"Not a bad idea," Medart said. "I'll have the Navy look into it, and if there aren't any major problems, ask His Majesty to implement it."
"Great!" Sunbeam exclaimed. "Would you like to borrow the tape, Sir Corina? I think you'd enjoy it, and if you're going to the Academy it might help you pick one of your specialties."
"I would appreciate that. I do expect some difficulty in choosing those; I have found so few things that do not interest me that I will probably need considerable help finding three or four to concentrate on."
Then Corina felt the Ranger's thought. *No trouble, she's not even screened. But it seemed somehow harder with her than with you, not easier. Any idea why?*
*Not immediately, no,* Corina replied, puzzled. *As I said earlier, it should be the other way around. Let me think about it, please.*
*Okay.* Medart continued aloud, to both. "Well, why not go eat? Then give her the grand tour, Sunbeam, anything she wants to see. Just have her at Briefing Room One by 1600."
"Yes, sir."