The Rowan
- Автор: Маккефри Энн
- Серия: Tower and the Hive #1
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «The Rowan». Краткое содержание книги:
The kinetically gifted, trained in mind/machine gestalt, are the most valued citizens of the Nine Star League. Using mental powers alone, these few Prime Talents transport ships, cargo and people between Earth's Moon, Mars' Demos and Jupiter's Callisto.
An orphaned young girl, simply called The Rowan, is discovered to have superior telepathic potential and is trained to become Prime Talent on Callisto. After years of self-sacrificing dedication to her position, The Rowan intercepts an urgent mental call from Jeff Raven, a young Prime Talent on distant Deneb. She convinces the other Primes to merge their powers with hers to help fight off an attack by invading aliens. Her growing relationship with Jeff gives her the courage to break her status-imposed isolation, and choose the more rewarding world of love and family.
"Prime Reidinger knows exactly what he's doing. And that's the end of that." The Rowan could not help but notice the sly and secret glint in Bralla's eye: the diversion was successful; Siglen had had to resort to upholding Reidinger's decision. The Rowan began to look forward to having company in her lessons.
Later, when she asked Gerolaman, he handed her the ID file on his prospective pupils.
"Facts and figures and holograms, he told her with a grin. "Get to know them a little. They won't know you're not the same general level as they are: Reidinger's orders," he added when she stared in surprise. "That's why there 're no indigenous Talents in the course.
"Make it easier for you to integrate in the group." She took the file back to her quarters and ran it. Each entry included a hologram, academic record, and a coded strip, obscuring private details from prying eyes but the open information reassured the Rowan. Three boys and one girl were Earthborn: the twin brother and sister who were only a few months her junior, came from Procyon, the other two girls were Capellans.
She called up the holograms and sat for a long while examining the likenesses and trying to imagine the personalities. She stared longest at one of the Earth boys because Barinov was as handsome as a tri-d performer, with blond and curly hair that he wore long to his bare shoulders: he'd been hologrammed in swimming briefs.
He deserved to be. He was as muscular and gorgeous as Turian.
And only three years older than she. It was just as well Moria wasn't Talented. Then Rascal managed one of his incredible leaps from her tape sheif to her shoulder, demanding attention now that he had awakened from his latest nap.
The students all arrived on the same official passenger shuttle which the Rowan and Gerolaman met. They had obviously had a chance to become acquainted during the short transfer. They were in high spirits as they crowded through the doorway, laughing and joking, their personal effects bags bobbing behind them in a display of kinetic skill. Then one of the boys noticed Gerolaman and the Rowan and two of the bags dropped to the ground.
"Tsk, tsk," Gerolaman said, grinning a welcome. "Stationmaster Gerolaman, T-5, and your instructor in this course." He nudged the Rowan discreetly who was staring at Barinov. He was even more handsome in the flesh, even flesh covered by casual clothing.
"My name is Rowan," she said. "I hope you'll like it here on Altair." She berated herself for her lapse in manners and smiled impartially around. She felt two, no, four distinct mental touches, more like handshakes than intrusions. She let them see her excitement at meeting new Talents and deflected.
"Sure beats gloomy old Earth," one of the boys said, raising a hand in greeting. The Rowan recognized him from the hologram as Ray Loftus, born in the South African mega-city. He shaded his eyes with one hand as he looked across the flat landing field toward Port's low skyline and whistled. "Is that all the city you folks got?" he asked, adding a low disparaging whistle.
"Abort, Ray," laughed Patsy Kearn. "Don't let him make fun of your city, Rowan. That's all he's used to, cities." "Not cities, Pat, city, a proper high-tech skyscraping city," Joe Toglia said, making outlines of huge buildings with a flailing of arms. "I'm as much citified as he is even if my folks live at the perimeter of Midwest metro. Hi, there, Rowan." The Rowan responded to the friendly warmth emanating from the two Procyons, Mauli and Mick, the twin empaths.
Theirs was a curious Talent since it had an echo effect: the second mind reinforcing what the first mind projected. They weren't even attempting to shield so anyone could hear them.
"No-one quite knows what to do with that trick," Mauli told the Rowan.
"They would like to very much," Mick spoke almost simultaneously.
"They're certain we can be extremely useful if they can only figure out where, how, why."
"That's enough of that," Gerolaman said, scowling in mock reproof at all three. "Not all of us are telepaths. But every one of you knows the proper manners to display, don't you? Now, whichever of you is kinetic, bring the gear and we'll get you settled in your quarters." He shooed them toward the big passenger land vehicle.
The Rowan clambered in last and sat next to the tall thin dark-haired Capellan, Goswina, who had a very private air about her.
There was the faintest tinge of green to her skin. Her eyes were also greenish, but closer to yellow.
Seth and Barinov appeared to be continuing an argument but Barinov looked right at the Rowan and winked. She wasn't quite sure what she should do. She certainly wasn't going to imitate Moria's arch coyness.
"Altair is a lovely planet," Goswina said in a gentle voice and the Rowan was grateful for the interruption. "Capella is a very harsh place. Are those really trees?" She pointed toward the wooded hills rising behind Port Altair.
"Oh, yes." "And people can visit them?" "Oh, yes," although the Rowan realized that she'd never been to the forest. An uneasy memory stirred in her mind but she lost the thought as she saw the rapt expression on Goswina's face as she continued to gaze in that direction.
"Will we be allowed to visit the forest?" "I don't see why not. You're eighteen and old enough to go unescorted anywhere." "You don't have problems with indent gangs?" Goswina looked mildly relieved.
The Rowan lifted the explanation of this phenomena from Goswina's public mind: indent meant indentured, and on Capella groups of indentured persons would often indulge in unlawful activities once their worktime was over.
"Not on Altair. We don't have that many indentured people here yet." "You're lucky! When there are a lot of them, they display the only talent they have: a propensity for violence."
Then the land vehicle drew up in front of the guest accommodations and Ray Loftus whistled again, this time in appreciation.
"Hey, not bad! Not bad at all. Glad I came!" He grinned broadly and hopped out of the vehicle, to be the first inside the facility.
Samella was there and Ray's grin faded a little as he immediately recognized her supervisory attitude.
The Rowan remained through introductory remarks from both Gerolaman and Samella on privileges, the conduct expected of the students, and handed out daily schedules. Then each was assigned a room and told that they were free until the evening meal.
"Aren't you staying, Rowan?" Goswina asked her as she turned to follow Gerolaman.
"I have to stay in the Tower but I'll be back after…" The Rowan suppressed the fierce urge to teleport herself because Barinov was looking in her direction just then. But, just in time, she remembered Gerolaman's warning. A fourteen-year-old T-4 wouldn't be able to pull that sort of stunt yet. Among other Talents, she didn't have to be quite so careful of using her abilities but it would be stupid to show off. Although she had been completely at her ease in that interview with Reidinger, it occurred to her that everyone else scrupulously obeyed him and she'd better, too. If he wanted her to act no more Talented than a T-4, she would oblige.
She was a bit surprised then when Gerolaman took her by the elbow and steered her back to the land vehicle. He wasn't upset with her, his mind-touch the usual calm blue, with the yellow of laughter threading it, and the tang of him at a normal level.
"No funny stuff, Rowan. That's not part of this drill. Reidinger's orders! Most of all, you don't swat an insect with a fifty-pound sledge, m'girl," he murmured, grinning down at her. But he ruffled her hair before she climbed into the vehicle.
"Gotcha!" And she kept that advice firmly in the forepart of her mind over the next two months. In the mornings while she was assisting Siglen, teleporting basic supplies to the outlying Claims, Gerolaman had the rest of them doing exercises she'd long learned and passed beyond. She listened in and once in a while, when her stomach rolled with exasperation at Ray's awkwardness or Seth's incompetence, she'd give things a discreet push. She didn't think Gerolaman noticed her minor interferences.