A World Divided (41 page)

She said softly, “Can you think of a better test for an empath? If he didn’t belong, no harm would be done, for he wouldn’t receive from me; and if he did—then he deserves it.” Kerwin felt her soft lips touch his hand, and felt an almost overwhelming emotion. The gentleness and intimacy of that small gesture was somehow more meaningful to him than anything any woman had ever done in his whole life. He felt that it had been an absolute acceptance of him, as a man and as a human being, that somehow, here before them all, Taniquel and he had suddenly become more intimate than lovers.

The others had suddenly ceased to exist. His arm was round her; he drew her head to his shoulder, and she leaned against him, tenderly, comfortingly, a gesture of reassurance and warmth unlike anything he had ever felt. He raised blurred eyes, and blinked, embarrassed at this display of emotion; but he saw only understanding and kindliness.

Kennard’s grim face looked a little less craggy than usual. “Taniquel’s the expert on empathy. We could have expected that—he has Ridenow blood. Though it’s damned unusual for a man to have it to this degree.”

Taniquel said, still clinging to Kerwin, “How lonely you must have been.” The words were barely audible.

All the looks were not benevolent. Auster met Kerwin’s eyes, and Kerwin had the definite feeling that if looks could burn, he would be lying in a sizzled cinder on the floor. Auster said, “Much as I dislike to interrupt this touching display ...”

Taniquel, with a resigned shrug, dropped Kerwin’s hand. Auster was still speaking, but he had dropped back into that language Kerwin did not understand. Kerwin said, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you,” and Auster repeated it, but in the same language Kerwin didn’t know. Auster turned to Kennard and said something, raising his eyebrows with a sardonic grin.

Kennard said, “Aren’t you getting it at all, Jeff?”

“No, and it’s damned funny, because I understand you and Taniquel just fine.”

Rannirl said, “Jeff, you’ve understood most of what I said, haven’t you?”

Kerwin nodded. “All but a few words now and then.”

“And Mesyr?”

“Yes, perfectly.”

“You s
hould
understand Auster,” Rannirl said. “He has Ridenow blood and is the closest kinsman you have here, except perhaps—” He frowned. “Jeff, answer me quickly. What language am I speaking?”

Kerwin started to say, the language I learned as a child, the Thendara dialect, then stopped, confused. He didn’t know. Kennard nodded, slowly. “That’s right,” he said. “That’s what I noticed about you first of all. I’ve spoken to you in three different languages tonight and you never hesitated about answering me in any of them. Taniquel spoke a fourth. Yet Auster tried you in two languages that you had understood when Rannirl and I spoke, and you didn’t understand a word. But even when Auster is speaking Cahuenga, you only understand him part of the time. You’re a telepath, all right. Haven’t you always been an exceptionally good linguist?” He nodded, not waiting for Kerwin’s answer. “I thought so. You catch the thought without waiting for the words. But you and Auster simply don’t resonate enough to one another for you to pick up what he says.”

“It may come in time,” Elorie said diffidently, “as they know one another better. Don’t jump to conclusions too quickly, Uncle.” She used the word that was slightly more intimate than, simply,
kinsman
; it was a catch-all term for any close relative of a father’s generation.“So we have verified that he has basic
laran
, telepathy, and a high degree of empathy; Ridenow gift, full measure. He’s probably carrying an assortment of minor talents—we’ll have to sort them out one by one, perhaps in rapport. Jeff—” She seemed somehow to turn to him, even though she was looking off into the distance and, though he tried to catch her eye, she did not glance in his direction. “You have a matrix. Do you know how to use it?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

She said, “Rannirl. You’re the technician.”

Rannirl said, “Jeff, can you let me see your matrix?”

Kerwin said, “Of course,” and pulled it out, slipped the chain over his head and handed it to Rannirl. Shielding his hand with a silk kerchief, the tall man took it from him; but to his surprise, as the man took it between his fingers, Kerwin felt a vague, crawling discomfort. Automatically, without conscious thought, he reached out and snatched it back into his own hands. The discomfort faded. He stared, amazed, at his own hands.

“I thought so.” Rannirl nodded. “He’s managed to key himself to it, roughly.”

Kerwin said, “that never happened before!” He was still staring at the matrix within his hands, shocked at the way he had acted without thought to protect himself against the touch.

“Probably it happened while we were guiding you to us,” Elorie said. “You were in rapport with the crystal for a long time; it’s how we reached you.” She extended her slender fingers and said, “Give it to me, if you can.”

Bracing himself, Kerwin let Elorie take the crystal. He felt the touch as if her delicate hands were actually touching his nerves; it was not acutely painful, but he was excruciatingly aware of it, as if the indefinable touch might become agony at a moment’s notice ... or unendurable pleasure.

“I’m a Keeper,” she said. “One of the skills I must have is to handle matrixes that are not keyed to me. Taniquel?”

Kerwin felt the hypersensitive awareness ebb away as Taniquel took the matrix from Elorie; she smiled and said, “That’s no fair test; Jeff and I are close in rapport just now. It feels as if you were handling it yourself, doesn’t it?”

He nodded.

“Corus?” Taniquel handed it on.

Kerwin flinched uncontrollably at the rough prickling sensation all over his body as Corus touched the matrix; Corus shuddered as if the touch hurt him, and quickly handed the crystal to Kennard.

Kennard’s touch was not acutely painful, although Kerwin was extremely conscious of it, unpleasantly so. The discomfort lessened somewhat, as Kennard held the crystal in his hand, to a sense of not-unpleasant warmth; but it was still intrusive, an unwelcome intimacy, and Kerwin was relieved when Kennard passed it on to Neyrissa.

Again, the excruciatingly close, almost painful sensitivity that lessened, somewhat, as Neyrissa held it; he could feel her warm breath on the crystal, which made no sense because she was halfway across the room from him. She said quietly, “I’m accustomed to monitor work; I can do what Tani does, resonate to your body’s magnetic field, although not so well because we’re not so closely in rapport. So far, so good. That leaves only Auster.”

Auster gasped and dropped the matrix as if it were a live coal. Kerwin felt the pain like a shock all along his nerves, felt Taniquel shiver under his hand as if she, too, felt the pain. Neyrissa glanced at the dropped crystal without venturing to touch it and said, “Tani? Will you—”

The pain stopped as Taniquel cradled the matrix in her hand; Kerwin drew a deep, shaking breath. Auster, too, was white and shaking.

“Zandrus’s hells!” His look at Kerwin was not so much malevolence, now, as fear. He spoke Cahuenga—Kerwin got the feeling that he wanted to be clearly understood, this time. “I’m sorry, Kerwin, I swear I didn’t do that deliberately.”

“He knows that, he knows that,” Taniquel soothed; she dropped Jeff’s hand and went to Auster, laying an arm around his waist, gently caressing his hand. Kerwin watched, in surprise and sudden, jealous amazement. How could she pull out of such close, emotional contact with him, and go straight to that—that so-and-so, Auster—and start making a fuss over him? Jealously intent, he watched Taniquel draw Auster down, watched the lines in Auster’s lean face smoothing out and calming.

Elorie met Kerwin’s eyes as he tucked away the matrix. She said, “It’s evidently been keyed to you. First lesson in proper handling of a matrix—even under
kirian
, like this, never again let anyone handle it except in your own circle, and only when you are very sure they are in rapport with you. We were all trying for maximum attunement, even Auster; and it seems, except for him, to have worked well enough. But from an outsider, you could have had a
really
painful shock.”

Kerwin wondered what a really painful shock would be like, if Elorie didn’t think that one from Auster was very important. He glowered at Taniquel and Auster, feeling wrathful and deserted.

Rannirl grinned his lean sardonic grin and said, “All that, just to find out what we could have guessed this morning when we saw Kerwin with blood on his face; they aren’t sympathetic and they can’t attune.”

“They’ll have to,” Elorie said tensely. “We need them both, and we can’t have that kind of friction here!”

Auster said, his eyes closed, “I said I would abide by the majority decision. You know my feelings in the matter, but I promised, and I said I would do my best. I meant it.”

“That’s all anyone could expect of you,” Taniquel soothed, and Kennard said, “Fair enough. What next?”

Rannirl said, “He can key into the circle when we help him; but can he
use
his matrix? Try a pattern test.”

Kerwin grew suddenly apprehensive again; for Kennard looked tense and drawn, and Taniquel came and held his hand again. She said, “If he managed to key his own matrix, maybe he can get the pattern spontaneously.”

“Maybe pigs can fly,” Kennard said shortly. “We’ll test for the possibility, but I think it would be forcing our luck to take it for granted. Let me have your goblet, Tani.” He up-ended the glass on a low table. “Jeff, take the crystal—no, don’t give it to me,” he said, as Kerwin would have handed it over. “Just a test.” He pointed at the goblet. “Crystallize it.”

Kerwin looked at him, uncomprehending.

“Make a clear picture in your mind of that glass going to pieces. Careful, don’t let it shatter or explode; nobody wants to be hit by flying glass. Use the matrix to see into its crystalline structure.”

Suddenly Kerwin remembered the man Ragan doing something like that, in the spaceport cafe. It couldn’t be so difficult, if Ragan could do it. He stared intently at the glass, then at the crystal, as if intense concentration could force the process into his mind, and felt a curious stirring....

“No,” Kennard said harshly, “don’t help him, Tani. I know how you feel, but we have to be sure.”

Kerwin stared into the crystal; his eyes began to ache and blur. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I can’t figure out how.”

“Try,” Taniquel insisted. “Jeff, it’s so simple. Terrans, children, anyone can be taught to do it, it’s nothing more than a trick!”

“We’re wasting time,” Neyrissa said. “You’ll have to give him the pattern, Ken. He can’t do it spontaneously.”

Kerwin stared at them suspiciously, for Kennard was looking grim. “What now?”

“I”ll have to show you how it’s done, and the technique’s nonverbal; I’ll have to go straight in. I’m an Alton; that’s our special technique, forced rapport.” He hesitated; and it seemed to Kerwin that they were all watching him apprehensively. He wondered what was going to happen now.

Kennard said, “Watch my finger.” He put it close to Kerwin’s nose; Kerwin watched, startled, wondering if it would disappear or something, and what kind of demonstration of psi power
this
could possibly be, watched as Kennard very slowly drew it back. Then he felt the older man’s hands, touching his temples, then ...

He remembered no more.

He moved his head, groggily. He was lying back on the cushions, his head pillowed on Taniquel’s lap. Kennard was looking down at him with friendly concern. Elorie’s face, over Kennard’s shoulder, was aloof, curious. Kerwin’s head felt strange, as if he had a hangover.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he demanded.

Kennard shrugged. “Nothing, really. Next time you won’t consciously remember this, but it will be easier.” He handed Kerwin the goblet. “Here. Crystallize it.”

“I just
tried
...”

Under Kennard’s eyes he stared rebelliously at the matrix. Suddenly the goblet before him blurred, took on a strangeness. It was no longer a flat piece of glass; he seemed to be seeing it differently. It wasn’t glass at all, glass was amorphous; the goblet was crystal, and within it he could see curious tensions and movements. He was conscious of a strange throb from the matrix crystal in his hand, an emotional tension, an equilibrium....
The crystals lie in a plane,
he thought, suddenly perceiving the plane, and even as it became clear in his mind, he heard a faint
crack
; the new kind of sight blurred and vanished, and he stared down, unbelieving, at the goblet lying on the cushions before him in two halves, split evenly down the center as if by a sharp knife.
Surrealistic
, he thought. A few drops of the pale kirian lay soaking into the cushions. He shut his eyes. When he opened them, it was still there.

Kennard nodded in satisfaction. “Not bad, for a first attempt. Not quite even, but pretty good. Your molecular perception will sharpen with practice. Zandru’s hells—you’ve got strong barriers, though! Head ache?”

Kerwin started to shake his head no, realized it should be yes instead. He touched his temples gingerly. Elorie’s grey eyes met his for a moment, cool and aloof.

“Mental defense,” she said, “against intolerable stress. Typical psychosomatic reaction; you say to yourself,
if I’m in pain they’ll stop hurting me and let me alone
. And Kennard’s squeamish about hurting people; he stopped, to avoid hurting you more. Pain is the best defense against mental invasion. For instance, if anybody tries to pick your mind, and there’s no damper, the best defense is simply to bit your lip until it bleeds. Damned few telepaths can get through that. I could give you a technical explanation about sympathetic vibrations and nerve cells, but why bother? I’ll leave that to the technicians.” She went to the cabinet where the drinks were kept, shook three flat green tablets from a small vial and put them into his hand, deftly, without touching him.