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population makes up the majority of the universe; for the time being, at least.
What about the Calcedorn?
Homar? she asks. It may be Kin blood. At the look in my eyes, she crinkles her own and continues, Nor like that. Two or three centuries ago the Calcedorns were playing with genetic engineering. They asked for Kin samples. It could be that or their race could be starting to spontaneously produce its own telepaths. I haven't heard of any besides Homar though.
Eckart, she continues without any prompting from me, is actually from Earth.
Earth? I echo, shocked.
It's not impossible to get to Earth, Serba says, although the xenophobia does make it . . . trying.
"Trying?" I say.
She smiles. Okay, dangerous for an alien. Although a Kin can pa.s.s. It's clear that Eckart's got Kin blood as well as Earth blood, but it's caused his skin discoloration as well as some other over-sensitivities to the environment.
Bluntly, it's not something he can easily hide on Earth. I suppose it was easier to leave than stay.
Is that why you and Eileen are, here?
We are all misfits here of one sort or another. What about you and Glimmer? What brings you to our backwater?
The usual reasons, I say.
The usual reasons, my foot, she replies. Please, I may be a genetic abomination, but that doesn't make me an idiot. The odds of two non-Tels surviving that long together on a scout are astronomical; the odds of two telepaths doing it are incalculable.
I do not respond, but I can see the momentary glint of -- what? comprehension, disapproval, revulsion? Then it is hidden. Serba appears to be an accomplished diplomat herself.
I turn to watch Madrin refereeing a match of mind wrestling between Glim and Eckart. Ah, the smell of testosterone is in the air, and Elleen is breathing deeply. I don't like her sniffing at Glim like he's a cake in a bakery.
Glim shouts out "Three five nine." By the look on Eckart's face I can guess that Glim had successfully gotten the number out from behind his shield. Madrin awards Glim the point. It brings back memories of training.
I was serving as a.s.sistant Navigator on the VanderTol, a luxury goods frigate, the first year of my second three-year contract. Very soon after I made the Great Discovery ("Captain, I think I'm telepathic"), I was dropped at the Inst.i.tute on Zehabus, not because it was the best, although it was, but because it was the next stop on the ship's route.
I was officially Tested and officially Confirmed. My career as a navigator was legally terminated, my contract paid off by the Inst.i.tute, and my life as a telepath begun.
The course work was straightforward. Learn to control your mind. Shield against unwanted "noise"; keep your thoughts to yourself. Weeks of moot court. Memorize the rules.
Telepaths must spend no less than four, but no more than twenty years serving as jurors, travel time not included, in a Court certified by the Interplanetary Department of Justice. Of course, the alternative was permanent observation and control by the IDJ in a location convenient for them, generally in one of their detention centers.
Three months after Discovery, I was a juror.
The zipper, having left the Pool behind, flies over the main colony. It is a small one. Four buildings cl.u.s.tered around a village green are all that is visible from the zipper.
"Most of the colony is beneath the green," Serba explains.
"Didn't they learn from Earth that people weren't meant to live underground?"
"They don't stay there," she replies. "There are crops to be cared for and business to attend to, not to mention all the festivals and holiday celebrations that take place on the green."
"Farming?" I ask.
"Yes," she responds, "the fields are over there. The colony actually extends under the more delicate crops so that the radiated heat will protect them at night." She points to the other side of the zipper. Through the window, I can make out the patchwork of distant fields and one above-ground building.
"Livestock is kept on the other side of the fields. It cuts down on the smell."
A small way from the main colony, perhaps a thirty-minute walk, is the Justice building, an elegant name for a simple one-story granite structure and the central body of authority on MON. From here, blocked only by a thin line of trees, I see the few above-ground colony structures and the beginning of the fields. The oh-so-mysterious Pool that sparked Elleen and Serbs is a shimmer in the distance. Further yet, and getting farther behind every moment, is what has been home for the last four plus years. Madrin lands the zipper on the pad next to the building L feel just a hit exposed standing beside the zipper. Getting inside will be welcome.
We walk toward the oversized doors, oddly ornate in contrast with the plain facade. Eckart walks up to pace with me. "What do you think?"
"They're intriguing." I momentarily halt my rush toward the safety of the building to study them more closely. "I recognize many of the symbols and stories, but not all. They're very well carved." Eckart smiles and starts inside the building,
"You just made his day. They were his project," Madrin whispers to me as she pa.s.ses into the building. I suppose being stuck inside so often gave Eckart time to pursue other talents. With a final appreciative glance I enter the sheltering waifs of the Justice building:
Inside of the structure in the back, there is bench seating for witnesses and spectators. At the front are the Judge's and Jury's boxes. Facing the J's are the boxes for plaintiff and defendant All is simply wrought; the structure seems cool without being cold. The piercing gaze of Lady Justice presides over the room from behind the judge's box.
"You'll be spending little of your time here," starts Madrin, "but it is the center of MON Justice. We also house the Ellysian artifacts here --what few we have. More immediately, though, I am sure you wish to rest. Out this way are the Telepath cottages." She starts out of the hall and leads us to a back door that is far less impressive than where we entered.
The clean air of MON wraps me again. For a moment the odd Telen tickles my mind.
I turn to Glim but he is not sending to me, and no one else is being obvious about it. My shield may be a bit weak; after all Glim and I didn't need to use shields all that much over the last four years. In the distance is a copse of orange-leafed trees striking against the turquoise sky. We start toward them, the rest of the Tels allowing Glim and me a chance to absorb the scenery.
The housing for the telepaths is another twenty-minute walk beyond the Justice building just the other side of the trees. At present, there are six aboveground cottages, a powerful example of the separate but equal treatment that telepaths often receive at the hands of non-Tels. Each is positioned to afford privacy, but all within sight of each other.
Madrin goes with Glim, and Serbs escorts me to my cottage. Perhaps Serbs is not the only one who is unaware of our reputation.
Serbs, I send.
Yes?
Why are the telepaths housed aboveground if the non-Tel population is housed below it? I ask.
We would have little reason to come aboveground otherwise, she replies. Elleen was right in her statement that crime is no problem here.
Oh, I say, not convinced, but it's a better party line than I've heard in the past.
My cottage is cozy although the jurors I worked with on Zehabus would have called it crowded. The structure is made of a material that I am sure is not indigenous to MON, but is made to look like natural wood and mud. A cotton batting mattress in the bedroom on a platform bed, a small kitchen complete with foodporter, a bath area with a huge sunken bath, a living area with a small fireplace, a compact works.p.a.ce with Plex-Link(R). Not bad for a start-up colony.
Glim comes to me after Serbs leaves.
At least there's indoor plumbing, I say.
You are incorrigible, he says, the feel of his Telen warming me. So little time apart and I have missed our contact already.
I was trained to expect technology, I remind him.
As I was raised to expect luxury, he replies.
Touche.
Did you see the Pool?
Yes. Serba says she thinks it's a gateway to the Ellysians. Elleen, however, disagrees.