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.
"Reports are a bit slow coming in from all the Claims," Secretary Camella said, her voice puzzled. "That freak weather pattern is moving eastward towards us. But we must identify the child: Someone this strong so young must be carefully monitored." Involuntarily she glanced out toward the FT amp;T installation at the far edge of the Port Space Field. A puff of dust, followed rapidly by half a dozen more, indicated that the incoming freight was being racked up by the kinetic abilities of Altair's major asset, Siglen, the T-1 Prime. Her mental kinesis augmented by a gestalt with the powerful generators that encircled her installation, Siglen could pick up messages from as far away as Earth and Betelgeuse, could locate and land freight drones as easily as others lifted the ordinary artifacts of everyday living.
Mankind's exploration of Space had become feasible because the major psionic Talents of telepaths and teleporting kinetics were able to span the vast intersystem distances, providing reliable and instantaneous communication between Earth and its colonies. Without the Primes in their tower stations, constantly in mental communication with other Primes, able in the gestalt to shift both export and import material, the Nine-Star League would have been impossible. The Primes were the kingpins of the system. And such Talents were rare.
Without the Federal Telepath and Teleport network, Mankind would still be trying to reach its nearest spatial neighbors. The Earth Government, once a centralized, world-wide authority had finally been achieved, had ordained an irrevocable autonomy to FT amp;T, thus ensuring not only its impartiality but its effectiveness in keeping contact with the now far-flung colonies of Mankind. When the Nine-Star League had been formed, it had ratified that autonomy so that no one Star System could ever hope to control FT amp;T, and with it, the League.
Most communities took pride in the number and variety of Talents among their inhabitants. The fear and distrust of paranormal abilities had been submerged by the obvious benefits of employing Talented folk.
There were, of course, many degrees of Talent, with micro- and macro applications. Naturally, the stronger Talents were the most visible and the rarest. The strongest in each area of expertise were accorded the title of "Prime". The rarest of Primes were those who combined telepathic and kinetic abilities and became the main link between Earth and the planet on which they served.
"We may well be witnessing the emergence of a Prime!" Interior couldn't quite stifle that burgeoning hope and the somewhat vain dream that this new Talent might eclipse Siglen. She might be Altair's greatest asset but a prickly one. Camella had to deal with her and found no joy in that aspect of her duties. Her predecessor, now happily fishing in the eastward foothills, had christened Siglen "the space stevedore", an epithet which Interior tried very hard to forget in Siglen's more trying moments.
For Altair to have produced a Prime Talent so soon would be most prestigious. If the child's potential was properly developed, and the strength inherent in its manifestation augured well, Altair would attract the best sort of colonist, hoping that something in the atmosphere of the planet nurtured Talent. (No-one had ever proved that connection. Or disproved it.) Altair had been fortunate enough to have a reasonable range of Talents in the original complement of settlers: precognitives; clairvoyants; "finders" with strong metal and mineral affinities who had discovered the high-assay ores and useful minerals, increasing Altair's exports; the usual range of minor kinetics, macro and micro who could shift, connect or manipulate things; a good range of the healing Talents, though no Primes yet, in the medical field, and the more ordinary empaths who were invaluable in any sort of employment which might generate boredom or minor dissension. Empaths and precogs were also members of the Constabulary arm of Civil Government, not that there was much criminal activity on Altair: people were generally far too occupied in carving out their personal bailiwicks on Altair's broad and fertile acres, or exhuming its hidden treasures. The planet was too new to have developed the "civilized" crimes of densely populated and deprived urban areas.
Altair was lucky in its spatial position in the Nine-Star League and, because it was central to several new colonial ventures, had been one of the first colonies to receive a full Federal Telepath and Telekinetic Station with a Prime telepathic kinetic, Siglen. That advantage had greatly boosted Altair's appeal to both individuals and industrial concerns. To have developed a Prime Talent would fill the Governmental cup to overflowing. So the Secretary of the Interior turned to the Medical Officer.
"That's all well and good, but first we have to have the child," the Medical Officer said, voicing her very thought though the man was unTalented. Then he cleared his throat testily. "My advisors suggest that the child is injured - yet there's been no report anywhere in the medical system of a wounded or shocked infant victim." "Demonstrably there IS one," the Governor said, bringing his fist down on the table.
"We'll find it, and know why an infant was allowed to cry so long without attention. New lives are the most valuable resource this planet has. Not one should be squandered."
A wail, a piteous, mind-scoring wail cut through his rhetoric.
"MOMMEEEEE! MOMMEEE! MOMMEEEE, WHERE ARE…" The plaint was abruptly severed.
In the ensuing silence, the Secretary pressed careful fingers against temples which still reverberated from that mental shriek. The most perfunctory of knocks was made at the Council Chamber door which opened to admit an anxious administrative assistant.
"Secretary, Siglen wishes urgent communication with you."
Interior exhaled in relief. Siglen could as easily have inserted her message into Interior's mind but the Prime was a stickler for protocol - for which the Secretary now blessed her.
"Of course!" The screens all around the Council room came on, lending considerable immediacy to this event. Siglen made few demands on the Council. Now, as the angry woman stared out at them, her eyes seemed to penetrate deep into the thoughts of each of those present.
Siglen was a slab of a female, soft from a sedentary life and a disinclination to exercise of any kind. She was in her Operations room, the hum of the gestalt generators a background noise.
"Interior, you are to find that child wherever she is, and discover who has abandoned her and deal with them to the full extent of the law." She had large eyes, her best feature, and they were wide with indignation and frustration. "No child should be allowed to broadcast on such a level. I cannot keep interrupting my flow of work to deal with what is clearly a parent's responsibility" "Prime Siglen, is it fortunate that you are free to contact us…" "I'm not at all free. I'm falling behind on today's shipments…" She gestured impatiently behind her.
"That simply is not good enough. Find that child. I can't waste time silencing her." Interior muttered something dire under her breath but composed her expression, and sank her thoughts. "We were about to ask you to help us find…" Siglen's indignant expression interrupted her.
"I? Assist in finding a child? I assure you I am no clairvoyant. I will endeavor to keep her quiet enough to allow me to discharge my duties to this planet and the service to which I have committed my life. But you…" and a bejeweled finger, its tip enlarged by perspective so that the whorl pattern was clearly visible, "will locate that appallingly bad-mannered infant!" The contact was abruptly cut. The child began to whimper and that was also abruptly cut.