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Authors: Anne McCaffrey

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BOOK: Damia's Children
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Kiely still wasn't sure. “Fardles, but there's acres of 'em. How many d'you suppose are in each tube? tunnel? comb? And how are we going to blast 'em in such a confined position?”

“Blast them?” Thian was stunned. “They shouldn't be blasted, Ridvan. They should be studied.”

“HUH?” Now it was the lieutenant's turn to be stunned. “You don't know what you're saying, Thian. Here we have hundreds of our enemy . . .”

“Helpless and vulnerable! Great targets for warriors!”

“No need to come on like that! But you certainly don't expect us to leave all these . . . these things alive?”

“Considering how little we actually know about Hivers, this is a find of unparalleled magnitude. Even more important than the ship itself.”

“I can't believe you! Let 'em live?”

“I think you'll find that the 'Dinis will insist on it.”

To make certain of that, Thian turned his helmet communit up to full and crisply informed Plr of the find.

“Lyon!” roared Vandermeer. “I heard that!”

“Of course, sir. The 'Dinis expect to be informed of any unusual discovery,” Thian said, deliberately misinterpreting her.

What'd you expect from a goddamned weasel lover!

Despite distance and comm distortion there was no mistaking Malice's tone nor an implicit promise
of retribution. That chilled Thian more than the prospect of someone trying to destroy the most important alien artifact—if one could so term the larvae—that had yet been found.

So far the xenobiologists had had to extrapolate mock-ups of Hive queens, drones, workers and other specialized forms from fragments of corpses strewn in space after encounters, or charred remains on destroyed ships. Though much had been learned even from such imperfect material, they were still guessing about the true form and nature of the types of Hiver which made up a ship's crew.

“Belay that!” Vandermeer bellowed again to quell the vociferous protests. She went on in an icy voice. “You've exceeded your authority, Lyon.”

“No, ma'am, I haven't.”

“You're in for it now, for sure, Lyon,” Kiely said and his voice was harshly accusing.

“I operate under directives of higher authority than yours, hers or even Captain Ashiant's,” Thian said as stoutly as he could but the objections had shaken him. “Get back up and lead them here.”

“Me? Go? Why you'll . . .”


I
won't do anything to them. I can't trust you not to.” And, grabbing Kiely by the arm, he thrust him upward in the tube while the lieutenant sputtered in indignation.

Thian watched as Kiely continued upward, and then propelled himself out of the shaft. Thian waited until he could hear Kiely's angry mental noise diminishing. Then he, too, exited the tube and propelled himself to one of the few chambers that opened onto space itself. The hole wasn't large but it also wasn't shielded by the ship's hull material.

He had never tried such an unpowered stretch of his mind before. It would have been better to use the shuttle's engines but he didn't have time enough to go that far—and make certain the larvae would be summarily destroyed by those coming to see what he'd found. The larvae must be saved! The information that could be revealed far outweighed any momentary destructive satisfaction.

Grandfather! Jeff Raven! Earth Prime! Listen to me!
He put the energy of every cell of his body in that call.

An unpowered send? I'll tan your hide, boy!

Later! Larvae have been discovered intact. Must be preserved.

Of course they must! What incredible luck!

I'm the only one who thinks so.

Not at all, my boy. You've done well. I'm already forwarding the news where it must be known. Now, shut up and save your strength! The very idea of an unpowered call that far. He's worse than his mother.

Thian had to grin at that tag or perhaps that was why Jeff Raven had allowed it to be heard. He felt depleted but not as bad as he might have. The elation of discovery seemed to have buffered him. Though that dwindled away as he thought of facing the anger and resentment of his shipmates. And Malice was in the boarding party. That was an unfortunate circumstance. But that was the goad that stimulated Thian to action now. If Malice got here first, before the Commander . . . He pushed off the deck and floated beyond the target tunnel, catching a thin pipe and halting his drift, slowly pulling his body slightly into the next tube opening. That was all that saved him.

GOTCHA!
That was all the warning he had.

Out of nowhere, for no helmet lights heralded the approach, the shock wave of a stunner blast shoved him with crushing force against the back curve of the tube.

That single mental shout, with its ferociously triumphant tone, gave him the nanosecond required for him to tap reserves he didn't know he had. Reflexes he had never had to use were triggered to form a shield, not as strong as it would have been if he hadn't lost energy calling his grandfather. Even so, he blocked the worst of the blast effect and struggled to retain the consciousness needed to keep the protection in force in case Malice came to inspect his victim. He tried very, very hard to project a Mayday, and was mildly amused that his attempt came out in 'Dini. He felt himself slipping. Here goes the captain's bright plan to evacuate his chosen few, he thought, amused that he could be amused as he wilted completely.

*   *   *

A buzzing in his ear was irritating but it could not be ignored. It was a warning. Why did every nerve in his body scream? He tried for mental control of pain synapses but his head was indulging in a monumental ache. His brain lining felt far too full to be contained by his skull. He was panting with effort. He opened his aching eyes a slit, coughed in the foul air he was breathing and vaguely realized he was wearing a helmet. The buzzing continued. He tried to focus his eyes. His vision was blurred but he seemed to be inside an escape pod.

There had been an emergency, hadn't there? The buzzing meant it was over. Good! He could get
out of the space suit. He fumbled strengthless gloved fingers on the helmet release and knew he'd succeeded only because he felt cooler air brushing across his sweaty throat. He couldn't do more than twist the helmet once but more fresh air relieved the necessity to pant. He lay where he was and willed himself away from the pain of his body.

*   *   *

“HE
IS
HERE! I'VE FOUND HIM!”

The glad cry came through Thian's mind physically and mentally. It was the mental identification that reassured him and he opened his eyes, smiling weakly up at Gravy's anxious, tear-streaked face.

“Oh, however did you get here, Thian? Oh, thank all the gods that you're safe! If you knew . . .”

I have an enemy, Gravy. Guard me!
he said.

Her eyes bugged out. “I heard that,” she said, sensibly whispering.
An enemy?
she added with reasonable telepathic strength.
Who'd want to hurt you? You're a Prime.

Tell only the captain but guard me.

Even that brief exchange took what energy he had.

“Stungun. Bolt. Got me. Hurt,” he whispered, too weak to writhe with the pulsing agony still throbbing along nerves and blood.

“Stungun? On you?”

He couldn't have missed the outrage, horror, and fury she broadcast had he been a 12. Returning consciousness reminded him that there was something much more important he had to know and he struggled with words to form the question.

“This is only standard, but it might help,”
Gravy was saying and her hands were pulling at the neck closures of his suit: it hurt even to be moved about. He was relieved that he'd still been out when she'd removed the helmet. Then he felt the blessed coolness of a hypospray and tried to speed its dose through his system. He couldn't manage much on that front either. “Who did this?” she demanded.

He managed a helpless grunt in answer. Even that sent a spasm of pain through him. “Larvae? Safe?”

“Oh, Thian love,” she cried and bent to kiss his forehead, a loving gesture which Thian knew oughtn't to hurt as much as that one did, “you're amazing! Worrying about those damned things when you're in bits . . .”

“Saaafffe?” he repeated urgently, trying to raise one hand to emphasize his need to know.

“Yes, of course they are. The most important find ever! The 'Dinis are triumphant. Mind you,” she added swiftly, with a glance over her shoulder, “there're some who were for blasting 'em to space dust but the captain stopped 'em. Well, it took you guys long enough!” she added in a brisk critical tone.

There was movement beyond him, movement and noise and his head began to throb painfully in reaction.

“Gotta get his suit off 'im first,” a male voice said. “How'd he get through the port with it on?”

“Never mind. Is Commander Exeter there?” Gravy asked in a no-nonsense tone. “The man's badly injured and will need heavy sedation before he can be moved. Here, Commander,” and Thian felt in every nerve of his mangled body the reverberation
of heavy feet as the medic entered the pod. Gravy dropped her voice. “He's been stunned, Ted, with one of the Hiver weapons.”

Exeter inhaled sharply. “That's criminal!”

A second cool spray on Thian's throat and he thankfully dissolved into a painless world.

He regained consciousness a number of times for very short periods, finding himself immersed in a thick liquid, his head resting on a cradle. Mostly it was pain that woke him but he was immediately medicated and was sent back to sleep. The third, or maybe it was the fourth time, he awoke, the pain wasn't so intense. And his mother was sitting beside him.

“Ah, Thian, back with us for a bit?” she asked, her expression loving and yet oddly stern. She smoothed his hair, the silver streak that matched hers, back from his forehead, and, with that tender gesture, the pain was also smoothed from his body.

“Mother?”

“Didn't you
know
I'd come if you were hurt?” Absently she gathered the long hair that had fallen forward across her shoulder and flicked it to her back. “You're improving. No brain damage, no lasting physical damage, though you may twitch occasionally. The worst discomfort will disappear very soon now. You were lucky to get only the fringes of that blast . . . the tunnel as well as the suit protected you from a direct hit. Which you wouldn't have survived.”

“D'you know who, yet?”

“Lieutenant Greevy said you mentioned an enemy.” Her lips thinned briefly with displeasure. “Do you know who?”

“I had suspicions only. I got resentful sendings, malicious ones, but I could never identify who. I had choices.”

“I must see what I can discover then.”

Thian's reaction was ambivalent.

“The punishment should fit the crime?” his mother asked, wryly amused at the dominant thought in his mind.

“Well, I know Primes aren't supposed to be vindictive but . . .” he began in a rueful tone, “but I'd sure like to pay back in kind for something like this.”

“Natural enough,” Damia replied neutrally.

“Oh well,” and Thian found himself forced to rationalize. “He or she was only spouting the usual anti-Talent-privileged-position nonsense we've all heard from time to time,” he said, having thought better of inflicting that degree of agony on another Human, however misguided. “I suppose me wanting to save the larvae was the last straw!”

“Something like that,” Damia agreed easily.

The 'Dinis were right, Thian mused; Humans were soft. “How long have you been here?”

“Three days now. I had to push your father out of the way to come,” she added with a grin. “But I am your mother and the stronger Talent. He had to admit that I have a special touch for easing pain.” Her smile was extremely tender but Thian knew she wasn't thinking of him just then. She stroked his face again, her fingers marvelously gentle and reassuring as she moved down to gently knead muscles in his neck and shoulders. “You were very wise to have contacted Dad. He had me in a capsule and on my way with Fok and
Tri before the boarding parties had assembled at the larval combs. I made it eminently clear that no larvae were to be destroyed. That was my first priority. That was, of course, before I realized I couldn't ‘feel' you on the wreck. I
could
sense you nearby which confused everyone but you wouldn't—then I realized—couldn't respond.” Her face mirrored the anxiety she had endured.

“But the larvae weren't touched?”

“Indeed not! Their discovery will provide inestimable data on Hivers. Incalculably valuable. However, not as valuable as you are to us. Your life would not have been a fair exchange for that data. And I was horrified not to be able to locate you: you were there and you weren't. You couldn't be located here on the
Vadim
but I knew approximately where your body should be. It was Alison who thought of the pods. Whyever did you go there?”

“Abandon ship drills,” Thian said, managing a slight grin which surprisingly didn't hurt, though his face muscles still ached. “Are you great-grandmothering me?” he asked, realizing that her subtle soothing strokes were purposeful and he was feeling drowsy again.

“A bit of,” she said with a grin. “Glad you can feel it working. Isthia swears it brought Dad back to life. And you're in need of more healing.”

*   *   *

Gravy was his attendant the next time he surfaced. Testing his mental health, he found it sufficiently cured so that a light mental cast located his mother, fast asleep nearby.

“Gravy?”

“So you're awake, are you?” And she moved to
the side of whatever sort of a tank they had him floating in. “By any chance, would you be hungry?”

BOOK: Damia's Children
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