Turning Point Page 9

  No other relationships could ever have the depth of meaning or sharing that this held. Among Talented Sholans this was accepted, but where did that leave the two of them?

  It wasn’t as if they could hide their relationship; they would betray themselves in many little ways every moment of their lives, whether waking or sleeping. There were bound to be reprisals, from her people if not his own.

  The Terrans would claim he had controlled her, used her mind until it belonged to him. This was the greatest sin a Talented person could commit. His people—so like the Terrans after all!—were quite likely to accuse him of the same crime and destroy that area of the brain where Talent was located.

  He shivered, chilled by the very thought. To be cut off from this world, the full pleasures of which he had only just begun to taste! It did not bear thinking about, and firmly, he pushed these worries to the back of his mind, unconsciously holding Carrie closer.

  Besides, he tried to comfort himself, he had been linked to Carrie before. No one knew what triggered a Leska bond. That this linking should have gone so much farther had not been his doing. He had been swept along on the same tide as she, and for a time control had been taken out of his hands. Vartra alone knew why it had happened, for it was certain he did not. But if it was Vartra’s will, then He would protect them. Whatever the future held, at least they would face it together.

  Tonight had been inevitable from the moment their minds, both stretched beyond endurance, had met for the first time.

  With this thought, he lay back, carefully clasping the sleeping girl. He could feel her presence nestling in his mind like a small, warm cub.

  Chapter 5

  Kusac dozed for an hour or two, then woke while it was still dark. The fire glowed warmly beside them, giving him enough light to see by. Carrie still lay curled up across his chest, one arm tucked around his waist. He moved his hand, putting it up to stroke her cheek with his fingertips. Her skin was so soft, unlike anything he had ever felt.

  For seven weeks he had lived with her under conditions that, had he not been considered an animal, would have been called intimate. There was little about her that he did not know and, whether he looked at her from the inside or the outside, he found her beautiful.

  He’d been attracted to her from the first, which was strange. He wasn’t one to seek out female company, in fact, usually the opposite. It would be interesting to see what the other Sholan men’s reactions to her would be.

  His hands clenched briefly as he thought of Guynor. He’d played the role of pacifist long enough. Now he had someone to fight for.

  Once again, he pulled himself up short. As a telepath he was unable to fight at all because he would feel the pain he inflicted, yet he had just killed four sentients and was contemplating fighting Guynor if the need arose. Why? He didn’t remember feeling anything but rage with the Valtegans, none of their pain.

  It had to come from Carrie. She had no such problem with fighting. Her anger blocked out her sensitivity. Was there an overlap of their Talents? Had he acquired some of her abilities when their minds had merged? What else had he retained?

  He let his hand relax, cupping it across her cheek. He could still feel its softness even through the tough skin on his palm. Heightened sensitivity when they touched; he should have expected that. With that came the knowledge that he loved her and wanted her—badly. Where they touched, flesh to flesh, his body felt alive, tingling. She began to stir in her sleep.

  Panic swamped him, and desperately, he tried to damp down his emotions and desire. He wanted her, yes, but when she was ready, too, not now.

  The effort left him trembling with fatigue. Vartra, but he’d never felt like this about any woman, not even his first. This had to be the Leska bonding. At the Telepaths’ Guild they’d all heard of its intensity and sniggered over it, but he had had no idea, how could he?

  Carefully, he moved the sleeping girl until she lay on the ground. He tucked one of the blankets around her, then, taking the other, moved a few feet away. Until she was ready for him, it would be better if he had no prolonged physical contact with her. Wrapping the other blanket around himself, he tried to relax. He needed to work now while she was asleep.

  He wanted to go over the link she and Elise had shared. Ever since he had known Carrie that link had disturbed him, but until now there was no way he could investigate it.

  He began by remembering the flashes from her early life and was immediately grateful that the memories no longer carried the reality they had earlier that evening.

  At first the twins had developed parallel to each other, but by the age of three, Elise had begun to outstrip her sister. She had figured out that no matter what she did to herself, it didn’t hurt and she’d become more domineering and aggressive as a result. It had toned down as she got older, but some of her cavalier attitude had remained. She hadn’t tried to get hurt, but going out of her way to avoid it as others did was not in her makeup.

  So Carrie had grown up as the dominated twin, quiet and reserved, and worshiping her more adventurous sister. She was the really Talented one, the strength of her Talent boosting her sister’s lesser one through their link. And down that link had come only her sister’s pain and fear, nothing else.

  It had become automatic. Carrie sensed it when her sister got hurt and she took the pain from her. Elise, knowing Carrie would take the hurt away, pushed it to her twin. It was a vicious, self-perpetuating circle.

  To Kusac, it was horrendous, an absolute abomination of what a telepathic link should be. Such a link should let you share pleasures and joys, feel compassion for your partner, be aware of her moods, and enable you to mutually support each other. Yes, sharing pain and hurts came into it, but by halving them, not by one of you taking on all of the burden.

  He would have to try to explain what had gone wrong before or else their joining would suffer. So far he had not been aware of her taking on any of his pain. He would have to watch for that and show her how to block out this feedback.

  As yet she had not shown any fear of their minor link. He’d had to forge it or let her follow her twin into death. There had been no choice. At the time, she had grasped his mind like the lifeline it was, and had calmly continued to accept it since then. But if the Leska link heightened all their senses when with each other, how would she respond to it? Could she cope, would he be able to make her see how good it could be for both of them, or would she only anticipate more pain?

  Fatigue began to pull at him and he lay down beside the fire. There was nothing much he could do at the moment except worry. Sleep was definitely preferable if he could relax enough for it.

  It was daylight when Carrie woke. The canopy of interlaced branches allowed a gentle green light to filter ground-ward but prevented her from catching sight of even the smallest patch of sky. She had no idea what time of day it was.

  Lazily, she straightened her limbs, stretching them as far as they would go before sitting up. Her mind beginning to function again, she remembered Kusac. He lay sprawled asleep, tangled in one of the blankets. He seemed close to waking; there was no need to disturb him.

  As she got to her feet and began folding her blanket, faint wisps of memories began to stir in the recesses of her mind. What had happened the night before? Apart from the mind link. She frowned, trying to concentrate, but the train of thought was elusive and refused to be pinned down. Shrugging it aside for the time being, she went over to her rucksack and began rummaging among its contents for something suitable for breakfast.

  She’d just finished making the coffee when she heard Kusac stirring.

  “You timed it well,” she said, looking over at him as he stretched sinuously from head to tail before ambling over to her.

  “It’s only bread and cheese, but at least it’s better than the emergency rations we’ll be having tomorrow.” She looked up at him and for the first time noticed how tall he really was. He would top her by nearly a foot if she were standing.

 
; Kusac squatted down on his haunches beside her and made a low growling noise, laying his ears flat along his skull.

  “If they’re anything like our emergency food, starvation is almost preferable.”

  Carrie grimaced in agreement. From Kusac she could sense the sickly concentrated taste of their protein packs.

  “So the Valtegans are not at war with you?”

  Kusac’s question was purely hypothetical. There was no reason for them to use verbal speech now, but in an unspoken agreement they knew that neither of them was ready to rely totally on their mental channel.

  “No,” replied Carrie, passing the mug of coffee to him. “I think they have a rough idea of where Earth is, but they seem totally disinterested in it. Do you know who they are at war with?”

  “No idea,” Kusac mumbled through a mouthful of cheese. “None of the Allied Worlds knows anything about them. If the Valtegans have chosen Keiss as an R & R planet, then the chances are it’s close to their battle zone, yet far enough away to be safe. That puts our two razed colonies near enough to the possible fighting zone to be a threat.”

  “And that, coupled with their lack of interest in both Shola and Earth,” Carrie continued slowly, accepting the coffee back from Kusac, “could lead one to surmise that they have more than enough to contend with, without looking for new adversaries. I presume your colonies weren’t heavily populated.”

  “They’d been established for four to five generations, but were still nowhere near as densely peopled as our home world,” agreed Kusac, helping himself to more cheese. “If we knew who the Valtegans were fighting, we could try to weight the odds in favor of those on the receiving end.”

  “What are our present priorities?” Carrie asked. “We have to find the rest of your people first, I know that.

  “We have to, Kusac,” she insisted, catching his new reluctance. “Are there any telepaths on the team other than yourself?”

  “None.”

  “Then they can’t know anything yet. Even if there were, what could they do to us?” she asked, gulping a mouthful of coffee before handing him the mug again.

  Carrie returned Kusac’s amber gaze, caught by its intensity though it was directed not at her but beyond her.

  His eyes began to focus normally again and he shook his head slightly.

  “How did you know what I was thinking about?” he asked. “I thought I’d managed to conceal it from you. However, you may be right,” he admitted grudgingly, getting to his feet. “Let’s hope we don’t have to put it to the test.”

  He kicked a shower of earth over the camp fire then stamped on it to make sure it was out.

  “It’s time we left. My injured leg has cost me enough of a delay already. As you reminded me, we must find my colleagues.”

  Picking up the rucksack, he stuffed the empty mug and Carrie’s blanket into it. Moving over to where they had slept the night before, he retrieved his blanket, stowing it away, too.

  “Aren’t you coming?” he asked, grinning down at her. “If you are, you’d better empty that pan and give it to me.”

  Carrie scrambled to her feet and handed him the pan.

  “You’re our finder,” he said, starting to hustle her along a small path that wound its way through the trees. “I can’t trace the rest of my crew without you.”

  A trifle bemused by his sudden surge of activity, Carrie allowed herself to be propelled forward.

  “Which way?” Kusac demanded as they came to a fork in the path.

  “I don’t know!” she exclaimed, rounding on him in mock anger. “I’m not really a finder, I’m just me!”

  There was a flicker of anger in her. If she could feel it, then so could Kusac. Hurriedly, she pushed it to one side of her mind and blocked it off from him. She was grateful this facility still existed, but how long she could maintain it was another matter.

  Kusac’s head tilted to one side as he regarded her calmly.

  “Carrie,” he said quietly, taking her by the arm. “Don’t try so hard, just feel it out. If you attempt to reason things like this, you lose them. This time you’re the finder because you, quite simply, found my crew mates. I meant nothing more than that.

  “Now, which way do we go?” he asked, giving her a little shake.

  “Left,” she replied, not fully convinced either that this aspect of her Talent could be wholly trusted or that Kusac wasn’t keeping something back.

  They continued on for some time with Kusac leading and Carrie shouting out half-hearted instructions every now and then.

  The path began to fade into invisibility and Kusac had to borrow the knife and try to hack a way through the thickening tangle of undergrowth. Overhead, the trees had choked off the daylight and they were left in a green half-light that only served to heighten their senses. For the last hour an unnatural silence had grown between them, so palpable they could almost touch it, yet neither one felt able to break it.

  “Would your people be willing to join mine against the Valtegans?” asked Kusac at last.

  “Of course, but I doubt that we would be of much help,” replied Carrie. “Terran ships don’t have anything like the speed you need, nor the armaments.”

  “You made it out here, didn’t you?” he asked, trying to chop through the stem of yet another ironwood vine.

  “Yes, in a sleep ship,” she puffed, lifting an armload of loose greenery and sticks from the path and thrusting it behind her out of the way.

  “By the time we meet the other Sholans, we’re going to be incredibly fit!”

  Kusac gave a throaty chuckle.

  “You could well be right. If we helped you with the ships, would your people be able to provide the crews?”

  Carrie straightened up, looking at him incredulously.

  “You’re asking me? You know as well as I do that you couldn’t make enough ships to hold the volunteers once Earth learns what has happened to us on Keiss!”

  “Good,” nodded Kusac, turning back to his chopping. “We shall see if we can persuade Sholan High Command that you would be useful allies.

  “That message you are thinking about,” he continued, “how long have you got before the next colony ship reaches midpoint?”

  “Um!” she exclaimed, taken aback by his question. “About two weeks,” she said, doing some rapid calculations.

  “But how did you know? I’d hardly begun to think about it.”

  Kusac chuckled again, a sound halfway between a growl and a purr.

  “Your mind is quite open to me. I can see many of your thoughts and with this one, I could see where it was leading.”

  “Oh,” she said, as her mind returned to the night before. She remembered falling, falling into a whirlpool of brightly colored lights, watching them, fascinated....

  “Carrie!” Kusac said sharply, feeling himself being jerked puppetlike toward her.

  Had someone called her? The sound was so faint she was probably imagining it.

  “Carrie!” This time the call was both verbal and mental. Someone was shaking her.

  “Kusac? What’s wrong?” she asked, bewildered to find herself looking up into Kusac’s face.

  His grip on her arms changed, becoming gentler as he moved his hands to her shoulders.

  “You were reexperiencing last night. You must be more careful, Carrie,” he said, his voice harsh with fear. “You were setting in motion a chain of events neither of us can control.”

  “I don’t understand you,” she said, putting her hand up to push her hair away from her face. “What did I do wrong? I was only trying to remember last night. What did happen then?” she asked, raising her eyes questioningly to his. “Apart from our Leska link, I mean.”

  Kusac flattened his ears against his skull. He could feel the girl searching his mind: there was no avoiding the issue now. He lowered his mental barriers, not even trying to conceal his fears and worries from her.

  “Does it really matter what happened? Do we have to know?” he asked softly, his fi
ngers tightening slightly on her shoulders.

  Carrie could feel the cool, gentle pressure that was his presence touch her thoughts.

  She searched his face, not knowing what she was looking for, especially in a person so different from her own kind.

  With his ears flattened almost out of sight, he looked more human somehow. The fur covering his face was short, unlike his body hair. This close to him she could tell that it was not the black she had supposed, but a rich, dark brown. His cheekbones were high and the nose—not quite a muzzle—short. It was his eyes that clinched it: round, liquid amber, holding a look of friendship, love and ... worry. She knew the soul that lay behind them, she didn’t need to probe any further.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t need to know any more.”

  “I’m glad,” he sighed, feeling the tension flow out of him. He pulled her face close to his, resting his cheek against hers.

  She felt the gentle touch of his tongue against her neck before he released her.

  “We had better continue,” he said, turning back to pick up the knife he had dropped when he had been pulled toward her.

  Nothing he knew of the Leska bond suggested anything like the degree of personality interchange or the flow of power through and around them that they were experiencing. And Carrie had done it at will! They had something unknown and wild here that would require careful control. He shook his head slightly. The situation worried him.

  Perhaps it’s because we are of different species, came her thought. Nothing about our relationship can be compared to any other. We seem to lose ourselves and become a third being—a gestalt—whenwe are linked in that way.

  There are limitations, though, returned Kusac. I have a feeling that we will find ourselves unable to use our physical bodies during such a merging. They will be vulnerable and easily attacked.

  Perhaps, but we should be able to keep some kind of a watch on them, if we have need of that depth of merging.

  Turning their attention back to the task at hand, they continued to cut their way through the forest until they came across another path.