Lyon's Pride (24 page)

Kincaid laughed. “Don't get me wrong, Laria. I'm not objecting. A relief to know that emergency reflexes are in working order.”

Thian, followed by his 'Dinis, walked over to the tilted sled, peering at the underside.

“How bad's the damage, Thi?” Laria asked, not quite sure of Kincaid's jest.

“You did a lot worse when you were learning to fly…”

“Isthian Lyon, I never put a single…”

Thian laughed and suddenly the sled backed out of the trench it had dug in the shrubs and soil and settled on as even a keel as the rough ground permitted. Flavia and Kincaid joined him so that Laria broke out of her outraged pose and sprinted the few meters to join them.

“Shouldn't've overbalanced like that,” Thian said.

“No, this model isn't supposed to, is it,” Kincaid said and opened the access panel.

“D'you think it'll restart?” Laria asked.

“Probably,” Kincaid said, “but I think there's something wrong with the fuel lines or there wouldn't have been that backfire.”

“I'll check the intakes,” Thian said and levered himself down for a good look at the hooded opening on the starboard side of the sled.

“Good heavens, Thian, why not just ‘look'?” Flavia asked.

“More fun to tinker when I have the chance,” Thian said, his voice muffled by his position. “Yeah, flight pinions clogging this one. Check the other, will you? Laria? Flavia?”

Flavia made a sound of disgust, totally out of character with her elegant exterior. She deposited a bloodied clump beside the mess Thian had extracted.

“Couldn't we just 'port back to the Tower?” she asked.

“What?” Laria asked, “and admit that we came a cropper?”

“Any tools on board?” Kincaid asked, holding up a very greasy-looking object.

“I doubt it,” Laria said. “This sled's only used for short hops. The big sled has a full kit, of course.”

“No one's using it today, are they?” Thian asked.

“I don't think so.” Laria concentrated, “found” the mass
of the big sled in its garage, “located” the tool kit, and 'ported it to a spot by Kincaid's feet.

“Thanks,” he said and, opening the metal locker, began to search for the tool he needed. “No rags?” he asked querulously.

“Here!” Laria dumped a pile, scavenged from the bin her mother generally kept them in, beside the tool kit.

Flavia watched another moment and then, turning, leisurely began to venture from the scene of the crash to examine the clumps of little blooms.

“Any toxic plants I should be aware of?” she asked Laria.

“None,” Laria replied absently, more interested in Kincaid, the mechanic, for he went about cleaning the component with a competent air.

Thian cleared all the intake openings.

“That's done, but I don't think that was the whole problem. Xexo usually keeps this serviced,” he said with a frown.

“Xexo usually does but we don't know when he did it last and Mother said Morag's allowed to drive now.”

“Hey, that's not fair,” Thian cried with mock indignation. “We were at least fifteen before we were allowed and she's only thirteen!”

Laria grinned at her brother. “I suspect they may miss us and have had to revise a few directives now they're down on staff. Besides, Morag's capable.”

“I think we have to get to the fuel injection and clear the line,” Kincaid said.

“That's underneath,” Laria said, pointing to the bottom of the sled.

“No problem!” The two men said it simultaneously, grinned at each other, and the sled slowly rose to a suitable height to allow them to work easily on its underside.

She could see Flavia off in the distance, picking wild flowers, occasionally holding a bloom up for inspection and smelling it for scent. Not many had any aroma, but none that Laria could see in the immediate area were the stinkweeds which had a reek that could linger in nasal passages for days.

“I'll hold the sled up if that'll free you up to do the nitty-gritty,” she offered, leaning comfortably against a boulder. “Vanteer says that helps him no end.”

“Oh, well,” Thian said in reply to her offer, “if you want to feel part of the team…”

She took over the “lift” and the men “removed” the bolts holding the panel, slipping it to one side where it hovered as a receptacle for the pieces they began to remove to get at the line.

“Can't you just ‘see' into it, Thian?” Laria asked. “You've spent the last couple of weeks ‘looking' inside pipes and conduits, haven't you?”

“Not quite the same thing, Laria,” Thian said with an obvious exercise of patience. “This is hands-on stuff.”

“Ah!” Kincaid had given a moderate tug to a hose and it had not only come away in his hand but disintegrated. “I didn't pull that hard!” he said in surprise, looking at the mess and the fuel that spilled down his hand.

“But that's the faulty part,” Thian said. “Completely perished. Where does Xexo keep his spares, Laria? Can you remember?”

“I couldn't but Roj would know.”

Thian grimaced. “I'd hate to interrupt him…”

“Well, it's that or admit to Xexo we crashed,” Laria said.

“What's wrong with that?” asked Flavia, returning. Then she began to laugh. “Xexo's a T-8. You could be in and out of his mind before he knew you were there.”

Laria and Thian exchanged thoughtful looks and then began to grin at each other. Thian chuckled and scratched his cheek with a dirty finger. “Old habits surface when you least expect them.”

“You're not
that
old, Thian,” Flavia remarked, thoroughly amused.

Holding the damaged hose line by each end, Thian could be seen to concentrate on it briefly. Then a second length of similar but brand-new hose appeared.

Laria cheered, then said ruefully, “I suppose it'll be my job to tell Xexo who messed up his inventory.”

“Leave him a docket. That keeps everything in order.”

The sled was quickly repaired. Kincaid even straightened the ding in the prow. “While we're about general repairs.”

They were all in good spirits on the way back, Laria giving Thian the drive since she wanted to name the blooms in Flavia's bouquet of wild flowers.

*   *   *

The first week passed very quickly in all kinds of leisure pursuits that the Talented enjoyed as ordinary people. Laria and Kincaid went to the mixed school the younger Lyons attended to speak to both Human and Mrdini students about working on Clarf. Although Kincaid begged off, Thian and Rojer were also in demand in secondary-level classes, describing their adventures with the two Squadrons. With his 'Dinis back, Rojer had no trouble taking part with discreet evasions. Afterwards they told the dinner table that they might have made the service seem a bit too adventurous for some of the young people.

“Navy is actively recruiting,” Afra said. “It's a good career if they don't fancy staying on here.”

Damia smiled fatuously at her mate, knowing the experiences with his own family which had generated such tolerance.
What he did not ask his sons was if they had decided which duty they would take on their return to work.

Flavia was included in an evening appearance when the exploration of the Hive ship was discussed with miners and engineers of both species, eager to have firsthand information on the matter. They also wanted to know if the great new long-cruise Nebula-class ship had been completed. Thian wasn't sure but said he suspected it would soon be launched. Its bulk had been noticeable in the working orbit it maintained about the Phobos Moon Base. No launch date had been mentioned and the disappointment of the men who had supplied the metals to build it was palpable.

“Is it because this planet is so new,” Flavia asked Damia on the way back to the Lyon home, “that everyone seems so…so relaxed with their Talents?”

Damia had to think about her answer. “Well, the Tower is perhaps more important to Aurigaeans since it's still mainly a mining planet, and so much is imported. Also, even when I was here by myself, before my marriage to Afra, I was always accessible. Our children have grown up with their children—mine always ran wild on their ponies—their 'Dinis with ours.” She gave a sigh. “I'll be sorry to see Aurigae spreading out and losing the closeness we've so enjoyed!”

“I'm lucky I've had a chance to see it,” Flavia said, her tone envious.

Damia laid a light finger on Flavia's arm. “You would be welcome here any time.”

“That is very kind of you.” Flavia ducked her head so that her expression was obscured.

Don't!
Afra said sternly to his wife.

Really, Afra! As if I'd ignore protocol with someone we barely know
.

Someone I think you'd like to know better
.

She could hear the teasing in his mental tone.
Kincaid has shown more interest in her than Thian
.

Kincaid is not interested in women, Damia. Or hadn't you caught that?

Damia managed
not
to gasp in surprise. She was rarely caught out.
And Laria…

She twigged that the day he arrived but she
likes
him very much. That friendship already means a lot to him
.

I must say the choice astonishes me. Surely Dad knew
that
about him…

Of course he did, but Kincaid's worth salvaging and Laria's so stable that she'd do that and give him a breathing space. Kincaid has more need of a real friend than a lover and she'd have the support personality she needs
.

She also needs a man of her own.
Damia's tone was adamant!

She's only twenty-three
, dear heart.

I'd had her
and
Thian by her age
.

She has an entirely different personality, darling
, and Afra's tone was teasing again,
and your needs do not match. Now our Zara, who has also tagged Kincaid quite accurately, says he was in the midst of a destructive three-sided relationship that added more stress to a difficult enough assignment. He can relax at Clarf and heal—all the injured parts. Laria has her own soothing effect on people which is why Jeff tried such difficult ones as Stierlman and Clarissia at Clarf
.

Tried?
Damia shot a flash of anger at her father's manipulative ploys.

Afra laughed.
I think your father understands and appreciates Laria far more than even we do
.

That remark both annoyed and mollified Damia.
So how long must Laria wait to fulfill herself?
she asked with some traces of indignation.

I have a suspicion that Laria only needs to look a little closer to those she already knows
.

Yoshuk?

Vanteer
.

Really?

I'm guessing but you'll have noticed how often his name came up
.

Damia thought about that on and off during the evening. She hadn't met the Clarf Tower engineer, although she would have preferred a higher Talent than 6 for Laria. But that hadn't, apparently, all that much to do with inheriting the genes that produced T-1s in totally unexpected families. Like Flavia…like the Rowan and Jeff Raven, for that matter.

*   *   *

The second week T-2 Clancy Sparrow, Lieutenant Senior Grade Rhodri Eagle and his youngest sister, Asia, the recently graduated honors engineer, arrived. None of them had been as far out as Iota Aurigae, even though they laughingly claimed Deneb IV was almost as remote in its quadrant of the inhabited galaxy.

Roddie, once the bane of the young Raven-Lyons' adolescence, had improved beyond belief. Clancy, having so recently worked with Thian, Rojer and Flavia, eased himself into the household and asked permission to do some hunting if that was all right. Instantly he had Morag, Kaltia and Ewain begging their parents to be his guide. Permission was granted and the three younger Raven-Lyons swept their cousin to the stables.

Despite all the efforts of Damia, Laria and Afra to welcome and reassure Asia, she was stiff with uncertainty and
so afraid to say or do something “wrong.” She didn't even complain when half the household slithers decided to investigate her slender body where she sat, rigid on the stool on which she had seated herself, eschewing a large number of more comfortable, empty chairs.

Petra regarded Asia for a moment and then briskly walked up to her and unwound all the slithers.

“Next time
say
that you don't like winding things crawling all over you,” Petra said, rather disgusted that anyone would put up with such inconvenience. She ignored Asia's deep crimson blushing and, cocking her head, added: “D'you mind cats?”

“Oh no,” Asia hastily said.

“That's a relief. What about Darbuls?”

Asia gulped. “What
are
Darbuls?” she asked in such a low, meek voice that Petra gawked at her for a moment before summoning one of the canine-like creatures. “Oh, they're not bad either,” Asia said hastily, apparently trying to redeem herself in Petra's eyes for being so silly about the slithers.

“I'll tell the Coonies they're to watch out for you,” Petra said with all the brash authority of a confident six-year-old. As she went off to do just that, she said to her parents:
Someone here ought to
do
something positive about this Asia girl. She doesn't know how to complain properly. The first Talent
I've
ever met with
that
problem
.

Petra's right. That one needs some major sorting out
, Zara said to her mother, though her mental tone dripped with disgust for such abject self-effacement.
Why on earth didn't she peel the slithers off if their clinging was so abhorrent to her?

And why didn't we notice her distress before Petra did?
Damia responded, annoyed with herself that she had misinterpreted Asia's quietness for courtesy.