Damia. Part 16

You can see him after school.' Damia fidgeted her way through school and burst out to the waiting area. Rakella was there.

'Isthia sent me,' she said, grinning at Damia's radiating excitement. All the girl knew was that she would be seeing her beloved brother. Today, even Jupiter was cast in shadow. Damia hopped into the flitter, practically 'pushing' Rakella to exceed the speed limits in the built-up area. She bubbled all the way back to the Raven compound and burst out of the flitter almost before Rakella had set it safely on the ground.

'Where is he?' she called excitedly, but unerringly she headed toward the kitchen, slamming open the door. She stood there a moment.

'Larak!' What young Larak saw was a slender figure a head taller than himself with sparkly blue eyes and long black hair.

What Damia saw was a splendid dark-haired brother. She held out a hand entreatingly, sensing his sudden shyness.

Cautiously, the toddler took it.

'Now that you're here, c'mon!' Damia cried. 'I've so much to show you and tell you - She started for the back door, all but dragging him after her.

'He's only a baby,' Isthia began, laughing at Damia' 5 single-mindedness but the girl's enthusiasm was contagious and Larak didn't so much as hesitate a step.

He happily followed his magical sister. 'Oh, let them go!' Isthia said when someone moved as if to stop her.

'She'll take good care of him. It's what she's waited for for so long, isn't it?' 'All I can say is, thank goodness Jupiter's too placid to buck any more.' Damia had planned for Larak to meet Jupiter first but they were halfway to the paddock when she began to feel a reluctance, a hanging back on her little brother's part.

Looking anxiously over her shoulder, she saw him staring wide-eyed at the wide-spreading branches of the nearest tree. He certainly hadn't seen the ponies sheltering under it. Damia was utterly charmed by his reaction. What fun it was going to be to show her little brother everything she knew and loved about Deneb. She looked down at him.

'That's a good tree, isn't it, Larak? Bigger'n anything in the park at Callisto.' "Listo?' Larak asked, his expression dissolving into worry.

'Who needs 'Listo when they're on Deneb,' Damia said, quite forgetting her own recalcitrance, but she had imbued her reply with such enthusiasm that her brother's face altered to a happier mode, though he kept staring up at the tree. Abruptly, her original plan to introduce him immediately to Jupiter underwent a selfless change.

'D'you wanna know something, Larak,' she whispered conspiratorially to him, 'I've got a special spot right at the top.

Wanna see?' Big-eyed, Larak could not find a voice to speak and mutely nodded.

'Come on!' Damia replied, waving an arm. She was up three branches before she looked back and saw Larak standing still on the ground, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

'Ooops, sorry!' Damia clambered back down, lifted him up to the first branch, pushing on his b.u.m until he was firmly perched on it and then scrambled up beside him.

'You've never done this before, have you?' Larak shook his head.

'Uhuh, 'Mia.' Damia giggled. 'Damia, not 'Mia. Try it.' Larak worked his tongue but only got out: "Mia' again. Damia shrugged it off. 'You can try again later.

Let's climb!' It was quickly apparent to her that his legs did not have the length of hers and, while the branches of the tree shot out of the trunk at steppable intervals, her small brother would have trouble continuing. So, since they were high enough up in the tree not to be visible to anyone, she 'lifted' them both to the top to her special spot, just where the branches narrowed to diameters that would not support even her slight weight. Then she parted the branches to give her brother the full view of the realm they surveyed.

Pointing out features - where Alla lived, where she had found a brookside cave she'd show him in the morning, the Tower which was conspicuous on the horizon, the smudge of the City - she finally ran out of breath and looked at him hopefully.

'Isn't Deneb great?' Larak gave her an adoring look. 'Great !' He managed the 't' as a separate syllable and grinned at his success.

I love you, Damia sent shyly in the quiet 'voice' she had addressed him in for the past year.

Larak's eyes widened, first in fright then in recognition.

His face burst into a beaming smile. Love you, Damia!

'They're inseparable!' Linna complained. 'She cries and he just sits there, weeping silently. Which frankly I find harder to endure than her bowling. Put them together and they're sweetness and light.

'Didn't we 'go through the same thing with Cera and Jeran?' Isthia asked the concerned teacher.

Linna nodded. 'Yes, we did but the solution was to hold Jeran up a bit for Cera to catch up. But that won't work with Damia and Larak.

She's too smart to be held back - she really should be encouraged to go forward at her own speed.' 'Is Larak bright enough to catch up?' 'He's bright but, really Isthia, it would be most unwise to force his pace to accommodate her. That sort of individualized instruction simply isn't possible in a cla.s.sroom environment !' 'Not in a cla.s.sroom environment, eh?' Isthia repeated thoughtfully.

'Isthia Raven, what are you thinking of?' Linna demanded in her best teacher's voice.

Isthia was impervious since she'd taught Linna the trick.

'And you do agree that there are now twelve other youngsters in this school district that have Talented leanings?' Linna didn't quite grimace, and her sniff wasn't exactly disapproving, but her eyes were sad. 'The freaks.' 'FT&T freaks,' Isthia corrected her.

'Where do children learn such words?' 'I'm sure I don't really need to tell you that, Linna, but I am thinking that it's about time we let our freaks get what they deserve here on Deneb.' 'Not that special school you've been trying to wrest out of the Education Committee?' 'Don't you agree it's needed?' Isthia retorted. 'The Education Committee's not the only one to complain about lack of funds but they sure tie the purse strings when I advance the notion that a little expenditure now on proper training and we'd have marketable a.s.sets to improve our economy.

'Our economy?' Linna echoed weakly. 'What about our sanity?' 'Linna Maybrick, are you trying to tell me that Talented children are more difficult to teach than regular children?' 'Oh cripes, no!

Children are impossible without exception,' Linna responded emphatically. 'But how will you get permission? And the specialized teachers?' Isthia cleared her throat. 'Each one, teach one,' she said cryptically, and bent a fond eye on Damia who was patiently showing her small brother how to hold a crayon.

Linna never did hear how Isthia got round the objections of the Education Committee but somehow the Council found enough money to pay the salary of a T-4 teacher whom Earth Prime had located for them, and Isthia Raven agreed to underwrite his living accommodation. 'So we saved a little on salary,' Isthia told her sons and daughters. She also reorganized living s.p.a.ce in the Raven compound to house the Denebian Special School for the Talented until the construction of the permanent facility in five years' time, at which point the Education Committee should have the funds to build it. 'I had to compromise,' Isthia Raven said when Jeff and the Rowan came to visit their children, 'but it could be worse.' Jeff rather thought she got what she deserved.

'You said "If you want it done right, do it yourself!" once too often, Mother!' The school was understaffed, the new teacher overworked but Isthia worked as hard as he did. 'And learned more, she said. 'I just wish I had had the opportunity I'm providing my grandchildren.' Damia loved it because it meant that she and Larak could share cla.s.ses.

In fact, she had to teach him several subjects, including mathematics.

She got to be quite good at mathematics herself from such exercise.

Larak was not her only pupil, nor were only Talented children entered in the school but Isthia chose a careful mix from families whose views did not run to 'freaks' or fear of Talent. Children from Larak's age to sixteen, who would be physically and mentally challenged by the opportunity of 'unstructured' cla.s.ses were asked to enrol.

So Damia found herself learning to control her temper at the difficulty some older students had in learning what she had to teach and her jealousy at younger students who stamped their feet at her 'slow' pace.

It was the sort of school only a gifted computer could plan for: with students and cla.s.ses to mix and match in such complex calculations that it yielded a doctorate for the T-4 in record time. Physical therapy and physical exercise, mental therapy and mental calisthenics all vied with the more regular curricula of other schools.

Damia learned quickly the fallacy of judging a person on the colour of skin, the condition of body or the attractiveness of face.

She also learned, just as quickly, the art of moving cargo containers, juggling bricks and reading waybills, much to the amazement of her teachers.

Cooperation was a primary requirement for all Talented people: civil discord was something intolerable in one with Talent.

Damia's favorite sport was team dodgeball. It was played both strictly with Talented children and with mixed groups of Talented and non-Talented children.

The rules were simple: if you were tagged by the ball, you were out. The object of team dodgeball was to have at least one team member not tagged out at the end of the game. The Talented members of the team were permitted to 1) gain control of the ball by superior strength of mind; 2) pull themselves or pull their teammates out of the way of the ball. There were, however, limits to a 'port: a Talent was not allowed to lift a non-Talented teammate higher than three feet off the ground, or more than two feet laterally, or outside the playing field.

Games with only Talented players were brilliant displays of unexpected lifts or the wild orbiting of the foam ball as players jockeyed for its possession. Games with mixed teams were perhaps less showy but more fun for the non-Talented and exceedingly good exercise for the gifted. However, particularly in mixed dodgeball, score was kept with one point for each team member still left when the other teams were eliminated. The size of the teams was arbitrary: some very small teams won more regularly, even on points, than larger ones.

There were two unbreakable rules in team dodgeball: no player should be injured, and teams had to be evenly mixed boy-girl, Talented-non-Talented.

Damia grew closer and closer to her little brother, always wanting, but never quite achieving, the amazing rapport which Jeran and Cera shared. She would brag immensely about their combined capabilities and Jeran, who had grown rather less tolerant of his youngest sister as he grew older, would always take special pains to prove to her just how wrong she was. By the time Damia was nine and Larak nearly seven, the rivalry had grown to full scale war.

'My little brother's better than your little sister!' Damia would taunt Jeran, who, being older, would invariably agree: 'Yeah, Larak's better than Damia any day!' To which Damia could only shriek with anger.

Jeran had just reached p.u.b.erty and had started to notice girls in a different light so having one so truculent was particularly annoying to him.

'Larak and I can beat any four of your friends!' Damia declared one day 'Cannot!' Cera rejoined, coming to the defence of her adored older brother.

'Can too!

'Prove it!' Cousin Channa challenged.

Damia paused, not expecting this tack. 'All right, dodgeball.

Who's your fourth?' Jeran's mouth fell. He floundered for a suitable way out of the challenge but Channa was Marci's best friend and Jeran just had to make Marci notice him. The trouble was that Channa was not all that good in dodgeball, being only moderately Talented and ma.s.sively clumsy. Worse, the obvious choice of partner for Channa was Teval, her current male interest, and Teval was not only not Talented but an incredibly gawky adolescent.

'Fourth?' Jeran taunted. 'You said you could beat us all!' 'We can!' Damia returned, chin jutting defiantly. 'All the cousins!' 'How many teams?' Jeran demanded.

'One team!' Larak put in. And so the lines were drawn.

The time was after school and the place was in the field beyond the river boundary of the Raven compound.

'It'll be a slaughter!' Teval declared from the sidelines.

Not being a member of the Raven clan, he was excluded from the tournament but invited by Channa who hoped to impress him with her abilities.

'I hope no-one gets hurt,' Marci Kelani, standing beside him, said nervously.

'No way. Just little Damia's pride!- Teval chuckled.

'The others are OK but she's a little busy britches.' She had tutored him in language cla.s.s the year before and he had failed to respond to all her best efforts, refusing to learn from a 'little girl'. From the corner of her eyes, Marci gave him an appraising look and, with a flick of her eyes heavenward, decided she did not like what she saw in the boy.

Out in the centre of the field, Jeran looked around at his team of twenty-one cousins with concern. Some of them were a bit too happy to team up against Damia and Larak. He swallowed nervously. 'Are you sure you still want to do this?' Damia rose above the doubts she felt because, absolutely, there was no way that she could salvage any pride if she backed down in front of everyone. Steadfastly she nodded her head. 'We're sure. Why? Are you scared?' Jeran licked his lips but shook his head. 'You can call quits any time.' He pulled out the little foam ball. As usual it had a dye bag inside it so that anyone hit would be marked with a fluorescent orange dye that washed off.

'Shall we flip for possession?' 'Smallest team always gets possession!' Damia declared hotly and somewhat scornfully that her brother's understanding of the rules was faulty. Jeran let the ball go, Damia 'caught' it and let it hover between them. With a contemptuous mental 'nudge' Damia burst the dye bag. A splurt of dye filled the air.

'GET READY!' she yelled. 'On three! One! Two!

Three!' Ready, Larak? she shot at him.

If the answering thought wobbled a bit, the boy's face was as determined as hers. Ready, Damia.

The ball became a vibrating blur which flew in an intricate pattern at the waiting throng of cousins. Damia knocked out three with the first pitch, then lost control for a moment as the remainder reacted and wrested it from her grasp. The bag came back firmly at her but she 'ported out of its way and shifted her power to Larak who, to the chagrin of the older players, looped it back around in a tight arc.

Two more defenders were knocked out.

'She's good,' Marci noted from the sidelines. Alla, Damia's friend, rode up on her brown pony. The moment she pulled him up, he dropped his head to graze. 'Is she all right?' she asked Marci.

Teval snorted. 'Little brat! They'll show her, that's for sure!' But the cousins were faring badly: in two separate pa.s.ses Damia and Larak had managed to knock out two more, leaving only fourteen on the opposite side.

The cousins were forced to switch completely to the defensive, hoping to tire the two youngest. They didn't attempt to 'take' the ball, only to dodge it without being blopped. The tactic began to take its toll for both Damia and Larak were soon panting and sweating profusely in their efforts to keep the ball both in the air and vibrating with the special effort that kept it out of the 'reach' of the other cousins.

Three more cousins were knocked out in the five minutes it finally took for Larak and Damia to lose 'control' of the ball. Heedless of the danger, Larak dropped to the ground, panting.

'Larak?' Damia called, turning to him. She started towards him.

'They're finished!' Teval cheered triumphantly from the sidelines.

The ball, now in the hands of the remaining cousins, hurled unerringly towards the p.r.o.ne form of the panting boy. But the light ball was thrust upwards and just over Larak.

'Oh, good, Damia! Good!' Alla cried from the sidelines.

Damia took another step towards her little brother.

'Come on, Larak,' she called encouragingly. The others scooped the ball back up from the dip it had taken after Damia had diverted it and brought it back around in a circle.

'I'm tired!' Larak gasped to his sister as she approached him.

'Perfect, two targets together!' Teval chortled.

Damia helped Larak up to his feet. 'Should we quit?' she asked him. Larak shook his head feebly, drawing away from her to stand on his own feet. Damia looked about her, saw the incoming ball and batted it aside with a mental 'frick' 'Give up?' one of cousins called out hoa.r.s.ely.

'No way!' Damia returned. She zoomed the ball at the speaker.

Either he didn't see it or he, too, was tired but the ball caught him squarely in the chest.

'This is going to go on for ever,' Marci moaned.

'Why don't they quit?' She waved a hand at the remaining cousins.

'Quit? Against a little girl?' Teval sneered. 'They just need a hand.' He picked up a small rock.

'Teval, no!' Marci cried but the rock was launched right at Larak's unprotected head.

'Damia!' Alla screamed, throwing herself at Teval.

Turning at Alla's shout, Damia saw the rock and flung herself at Larak, arms outstretched. She pushed him out of the way but the rock caught her squarely at the base of the skull. She fell silently to the ground. Spun about by the force of his sister's arms, Larak whipped around and screamed when he saw her lying there, her head bleeding profusely. Damia!

Jeran was running as fast as he could towards her when the dye ball bit him. It flicked past him and hit all the remaining cousins with such blinding speed that no-one was spared. Then it made a spiralling loop before it slammed into the vengeful smile on Teval's face.

It was dark. The air was bad. Her head felt awful and They were trying to get her. Damia moaned silently as she struggled away from the dark and back towards the light. But They would not let her.

They tried to keep her down. They chittered at her, not like c.o.o.nies, but like evil sc.r.a.ping claws on harsh metal. They were after her.

They wanted revenge. They tried to suck her out of her body, tried to eat her soul. Damia whimpered in fear, searching blindly for something, someone. There! Far away, far, far away, like a beacon! A blip of light. She lost sight of it, searched for it, drew it to her, crawled towards it. There!

They were afraid of the light, it scared them. If she could just get to the light! The light! The soul-eaters would never get her if she could just get to the light. She cried to the lighthouse, cried to the keeper. The beacon flared, light streamed steadily towards her.

She was getting nearer or had the lighthouse moved to her? Damia did not know, did not care. The light bathed her, burnt the soul-eaters and the lightkeeper soothed her with warm words and his warm light.