Living With Syn (7 page)

“She’s not angry?”

Syn nodded solemnly, “I don’t think so. Why
don’t I call her and then I bet she will come right to you.
Duchess…” Syn called to the cat.

“You think she’ll come?”

“I think so,” Syn answered.

Bron walked over to open the study door. “Is
the suite intact?”

“Yes, the explosion was tightly confined; it
was a shaped charge weapon that directed the blast upwards. It was
specifically designed to obliterate the bed and its occupants.
Nothing else in the room was affected.”

“If that is the case, we must do a sweep of
the rooms. Replace the bed and run the air filter.”

As Bron opened the door, Duchess curled
around it. Duchess went to sit on the multi-patterned, hand woven
rug, raked her claws across the threads, and began to wash her face
clean of the small mote of soot on her whiskers.

She spotted Naffie and as Syn predicted,
headed straight for him. Jumping on his lap, she circled around to
find a comfortable spot then lay curled up on his lap, kneading his
trews.

“See, Naffie, everything is fine.”

“Nafer, why don’t you take Duchess up to your
room? Show her some of your toys. Maybe she might play with you.”
Syn scratched Duchess under her chin.

“Do you think she will?”

“I think so.”

Naffie rose, taking care to balance Duchess
in his arms, and left the room. Syn looked up at Bron and Zaron.
::I hope I read you right. You wanted to talk?::

“Yes, we wanted to have this conversation in
a more leisurely fashion, Pa Chette.” Bron sat down in the spot
recently vacated by Nafer. Zaron knelt down before her.

“I’m afraid that what we just experienced
upstairs and at the field, was the result of the fear of difference
we were trying to explain. There is a traitor in the Elder Council
who is working hand-in-hand with a rogue member of the ruling body
of the Galactic Federation. We know he used Septis and Bane plus
the Kassan chief I impersonated on
Brightstar
. He could be
HiPsy himself, very talented at shielding and looking to eliminate
the competition.”

“A few on the council objected to the Earthen
fem. They wanted to clone our fem from their remains. This was
unacceptable to most Sarrans,” Bron explained.

Zaron continued, “A small number of Sarrans
wished to take the tragedy of the loss of our fem and use it to
repudiate the Codex…”

“Anya said if you mate with genetically
modified fem you lose the psy power.” Syn took Bron’s left hand and
Zaron’s right. She needed the skin-to-skin contact. “On Earth my
profession was psychology. You have no equivalent science on
Sarran.” She put both of their hands together and held them between
hers. “It is a science of the mind and how it works, not the brain:
that is called neuroscience, which explores the physical brain.

“We have an equivalent field to you
neuroscience on Saran.” Zaron said.

“Psychology is more a study of behavior. This
man you are seeking is not afraid. There is a science, back on
Earth, where psychologists and law enforcement officers study
criminal behavior to come up with a profile that could point to the
person who did the crime. I’m not an expert; however I believe you
have missed the motive. It is not fear.”

::Then what is it, Pa Chette?::
Zaron
asked.

::Power. Whoever controls the HiPsy Sarran
Warriors has the potential to control the galaxy. You, Bron and
Zaron, plus the others, have used your gifts to aid the Sarran
cause and not for personal gain. This Elder and his partner look
for power, control of the planet, and eventually the galaxy. Who do
you know among the Elders, a WarriorPair who are power hungry,
conscious of their prestige, and overly fussy over the trappings of
their office? This would be a pair who is insulted if not given the
honor and prestige they feel their due and would be very vocal
regarding their prerogatives. He could also be single, suffering a
loss during the plague. He or they could have lost or muted psy
ability due to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.::

Bron pulled his hand away, leaned forward
putting his hand under his chin. Syn chuckled
. ::He looks like
Rodin’s Thinker.::

Zaron stroked his chin.
::There are a few
candidates who act as you describe on the council but only one
Elder Pair who meet the criteria. They lost their fem and one of
the pair was wounded badly during the Zyptz war.::

::What Zaron says is true Pa Syn. Only Elder
TeAngle and his partner TeZuff meet all of your parameters. But
they have always been known to be good men, albeit a bit difficult
to like.::

::Good men can become corrupt and if not
corrupt, troubled and not quite sane.::

::Insane. Pa Chette, what could cause this
insanity?::

::As I said, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
or PTSD…it’s an anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to
a terrifying event or ordeal in which grave physical harm occurred
or was threatened. Events such as the Zyptz war and the plague
caused by the explosion of the Ipz are perfect examples.::

“And this disorder causes insanity?” Bron
asked incredulously.

“Depending on the degree of the trauma, the
length of time from the onset of the PTSD until the beginning of
treatment, various degrees of mental illness can occur. The
afflicted individual could relive the event on an hourly or daily
basis, each time reinforcing the disorder. Sometimes the disorder
doesn’t appear until months or years after the incident. The person
may become tense, on edge, or emotionally numb. I’m not sure, but I
don’t think the disorder can bring about changes in personality,
but it can enhance feelings of anger, depression, or guilt and the
patient may act upon those feelings. Alternately this person or
persons could be evil. I’ve seen enough of it on my world to know
that it exists.”

“How can you tell if someone has this PTSD?
Bron and I both experienced the numbness you describe. However,
when we unblocked our psy, we had a huge outpouring of grief, which
you partially witnessed.”

“The symptoms of the disorder are those that
I described. What is interesting is that not everyone exposed to a
traumatic event gets PTSD. In other cases, for instance the death
of a loved one, one member of the family can acquire PTSD as a
result of the death while the rest of the family remains
unaffected. There may be a genetic component. Earthen Science had
not yet advanced far enough to be able to totally explain the
phenomenon. They have medication to ease the symptoms and talk
therapy to give the patient support and the understanding to enable
them to live with and eventually get over the trauma.”

“The suicides, the WarriorPairs unable to
function properly within their bond, and the hair trigger tempers
we have seen multiply planet wide could have all been caused by
this disorder,” Zaron mused.

“And Earth has a means to treat this?” Bron
moved to sit next to the still kneeling Zaron.

“We have treatments, but we do not have a
cure.”

The study door popped open.

“You have a cure, Mommie. You can fix their
auras, after the bonding.”

“Naffie, I thought you were in your room
playing with Duchess.” Syn gave him the sternest look she could
muster.

“I heard the mental shouting and decided to
listen.”

“If you were sent to your room while the
adults were talking, you weren’t meant to listen!”

“But I did, and I helped.”

“Nafer, you spied and acted like a sneak. I’m
very displeased with you. There will be no cookies today.”

“Poppie, Zadda, tell Mommie I didn’t do
anything wrong.”

Zaron walked across the room and took Nafer
by the hands. He sent an image of a spy into his son’s head.

“But Zadda, I didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Offspring, knowledge in the wrong hands can
hurt many. I have to erase what you heard from your mind. Anyone
could pick you up off the street and use primitive mind opening
techniques if they even had a clue that you possibly knew something
that would be helpful to them…Bron.”

Bron stepped behind Nafer and held his head
while Zaron put his forehead to Nafer’s own. A few mots later the
three stirred.

“Zadda, where is Duchess? I came down to get
her because I wanted to play.”

“Here she is. Why don’t you take her to your
room? Please refrain from eavesdropping. Poppie, Mommie, and I have
business to discuss that doesn’t belong in the ears of
offspring.”

“Gees, I never get to hear anything
interesting.”

“That’s right, Naffie, and you won’t until
you get to be much older,” his Zadda answered.

“If you are good this afternoon and evening,
Mommie will make cookies for you.” Zaron shot Syn a pleading
look.

“You bet I will,” Syn answered. “Good
offspring always receive cookies.”

* * * *

“Will his memory be permanently impaired? Did
I cause this by my presence in the household?” Syn began to pace
across the room in agitation.

“Calm yourself, Pa Syn. Zaron and I have
known for quite some time that Nafer was out of control. We did not
discipline him as good sires should. We made allowances for his and
our grief. Now we must rein him in and give thought to what he
overhears. I have to double, mayhap even triple the shields on this
room and make sure to put them up each and every time we speak of
sensitive issues.”

“Bron is right, Pa Chette, it is no fault of
yours, the fault lies squarely on our shoulders. I put a block on
Nafer’s memory. Since the block covers such a short period of time,
he won’t even realize he is missing this memory. When he is of age,
I will remove it. We will need to be more careful in the
future.”

“We need to teach you to put up a shield.”
Bron put his forehead to Syn’s and sent a picture to her mind. She
reacted immediately.

“That is like a wall. I vary the material and
the frequency depending on to whom I wish to speak and how loud I
want to be heard,” Syn said, pleased with herself.

Bron stood in Syn’s path so the pacing
stopped. He put his arms around her. “Cynthia, please…we really do
need to talk. The bomb upstairs was meant for the three of us. If
you become our fem, you will always be in danger.”

Syn’s face fell. “No…no…don’t ever think
that. We don’t care what happened to you in the past. We have the
records the government compiled on each fem. I went over them
carefully. I didn’t want to receive Earth’s prison population. I
refused violent fems, abusive fems, infertile fems, and fems with
certain genetic disorders. We can fix most physical problems
although we are not as familiar with trauma wounds as your planet.
However, this planet is dying. We need to repopulate, soon. So fems
who carried genes that could be passed to offspring that we could
not fix, were eliminated from the pool.”

“It isn’t me I’m thinking of when I think of
my past. It’s you and Bron, Naffie. Madeline Dixon-Howard knows
some of the details of my life…unfortunately not enough. Her father
and mine practically raped me. Then they covered it up by lying
about me to the community. Maddy has told anyone who will listen
that I’m a slut. You have social position on this planet. You have
enemies who could attempt to use this information against you. I
can’t give my heart and then find myself broken and alone again.”
Syn’s eyes began to tear.

Her Warriors took her into their arms, one on
each side.

“There is no doubt that you are ours. After
the moontine meal we will begin the bonding. Our witnesses will be
the Concierge who will relay it to our dinner companions. Today we
must prepare the meal.”

Syn glanced at her watch. Although they
called time differently, Sarran had same twenty-four hour rising
(day) as Earth, although their year at three-hundred and sixty
risings was five days shorter. The ship docked early, at six tines.
It was only nine tines now. With the meal scheduled for nineteen
tines, she had plenty of time to prepare something acceptable.

* * * *

“The way to a man’s heart is through his
stomach.”

—Proverb

Stoker directed Syn to an
even larger suite down the hall to get some clothing. Syn had to
depend on the fabricator for clothes as hers smelled of smoke and
ash. She threw on jean shorts and a white blouse, ready to get to
work. Syn noticed the beauty and luxury of the sprawling home.
However, there was no time to explore her surroundings.
Coffee,
I need coffee. If I’m preparing dinner for eight, I can’t do it
without coffee!

Syn finally found the kitchen after a few
wrong turns. It was large and very hi-tech, gleaming with what she
assumed was Sarran stainless steel with black, granite-like counter
tops. The black counters contained large sections of green crystal
inlaid into the rock. Naffie was sitting on a tall stool drinking
juice.

“Agh! They brought the coffee maker but I
don’t see how to connect it to an electric current.”

“Ask Zadda, Mommie. He can fix anything.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping?”

“I’m not sleepy anymore. Can I watch you?
Zadda really can help you with your stuff.”

“I’m sure Zadda doesn’t want to be bothered
for something so trivial.”

“You don’t understand, Mommie. Nothing a fem
needs is too small to her Warriors. You come first, before anything
else.”

“Did I hear someone say my name,” Bron asked
as he entered the kitchen area.

“I need to know how to operate the
appliances.” Syn flushed in embarrassment.

Bron walked over to his new mate, “Anything
you need, Pa Syn, to make you comfortable is of major concern to
your Warriors.” He kissed the nape of her neck.

“Ugh! That’s gross!”

“Then, my offspring, I must assume we will be
grossing you out frequently. Now, what is the problem?”