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.
Elizara deposited the baby on his mother's newly deflated belly while she performed the necessary post natal offices.
"Even upside down, you're beautiful," the Rowan told Jeran, intercepting one of his violently waving hands as he continued to complain on several levels about the brutal treatment he had just been through. He's so strong!
So angry! and Jeff's tone was immediately proud and relieved.
Now, now, my beautiful boy! Its all over.
Lord no, it's just starting, Isthia replied. "Good lungs on him," she added approvingly.
He has obviously inherited your voice, mother, Jeff said.
That birth shout was loud enough to reach Deneb!
And you're son-spoken? Isthia teased back, beaming with joy, at the successful birth.
"Just over four kilos," Elizara said, pleased. "You wouldn't want any heavier a child, Rowan. And no worse for the passage. Now we will all soothe him on the most primitive levels.
Ganging up on my poor son? asked Jeff, fatuously smiling down at Jeran.
Soothing your not at all poor son, Elizara rebuked him.
This is the most important part for a child as obviously Talented as Jeran is. Hands-on! Isthia, begin on the metamorphic levels.
Rowan won't want him operating on a psionic high over the next few months.
As Isthia stroked the sturdy little feet, she began to croon softly. Elizara and Jeff sponged him clean, all the time soothing him with touch, mind and voice. Soon he was yawning and quite willing to drift off into sleep.
When the afterbirth was delivered and the Rowan made comfortable again in her bed, the sleeping child was placed in her arms and Jeff stretched out beside them both, his eyes dark and brimming with love.
I never thought I would feel quite this intensely about a baby who will shortly drive us both demented with infantile needs, Jeff said.
On his forefinger, he tipped up Jeran's little hand which opened to curl about it. I'll be the most impossible father in the galaxy.
Jeran IS quite the most marvelous baby, the Rowan agreed, as fatuous with pride as he was. "What… on earth?" At her altered tone, Jeff followed her startled gaze and saw containers and arrangements of flowers of every variation imaginable appear and settle themselves on whatever surface was available until the room was almost filled with them.
"What is going on?" Jeff scrambled to his feet though what harm could masses of blossoms cause.
That young 'un has so loud a voice I knew before Elizara told me! said the familiar voice of Reidinger in an unfamiliar whisper.
Thank you!
Jeff and the Rowan stared at each other for the uncharacteristic savility in Earth Prime's tone.
Rowan? Jeff? Isthia's voice, too, was hesitant but there was such an underlying throb of excitement that they both asked what was wrong. Nothing except there can't be any flowers left on Earth for the masses that just appeared all over the dome!
"You should see our room," Jeff called aloud. "Come on in, and where's Elizara?" "In the pool - if there's room for her to swim among the water lilies I saw heading in that direction," Isthia said in quiet mirth as she opened the door. She halted, staring around her in amazement. "Who on earth…"
"Reidinger!" the Rowan and Jeff said in unison.
They heard a distant exclamation, and a much more audible. Grandfather, haven't you got a wit left in your head?
So much floral perfume and pollens are not good for a baby!
"Grandfather?" Now Isthia joined Rowan and Jeff in chorus.
Oh, bugger, I blew it! Elizara sounded disgusted. Just let me dress and I'll come clean.
Come clean first, dress is optional, Jeff replied, doubling up in a paroxysm of laughter.
Don't laugh, Jeff. The Rowan said, wrapping both hands around her much abused abdominal muscles. Please don't make me laugh, Jeff!
Please!
Isthia came to the Rowan's assistance with strong hands on her belly, trying hard to scowl at Jeff but grinning broadly at the same time. Then Elizara appeared, her hair still wet, swathed in a big towel, and looking chagrined.
"Reidinger's your grandfather?" The Rowan asked, wondering how she could have missed the relationship.
"Actually my great-grandfather, but that's a mouthful and makes him feel ancient. I buried that fact behind a shield before I came here. Grandfather impressed on me that you might resent my help if you discovered the relationship. But I'm also the best qualified person for such an important accouchement. And what I told you in our first interview was true: I offered to come but he was so dreadfully relieved that I had. He may holler and rant at you, Rowan, but, believe me, that indicated just how much he cares about you. And about Jeff. And now Jeran is added to his most special list." The Rowan closed her arm protectively about Jeran and glared at Elizara. "I'm NOT breeding for FT amp;T." "No more am I," Elizara replied with a laugh, "but children are part of being a woman. Can you deny that you feel more feminine at this moment than at any other time in your whole life?" The Rowan considered this and had to agree. "In fact, now I've done it, I won't mind being pregnant often." She shot a sly glance at Jeff. "Only Reidinger must know it's because we want more children, Talented or not." "I won't for a moment deny that my grandfather lives and breathes for the efficiency and continued success and expansion of FT amp;T." Elizara's eyes twinkled. "He was massively disappointed that I went medical but that's where my Talent lay. In fact the poor dear," and she grinned as she caught the surprise in their minds at her loving reference, "has been continually disappointed in his seven children and their progeny unto the third generation. He's the third Reidinger to be Earth Prime, you see.
Not always consecutive. The Talent sometimes skipped one generation. He did so want to train up a fourth. That's one reason for his bad temper. He feels he's been let down by genetics. Oh, most of us have valid Talents but none of us are Prime candidates. It is the rarest combination of Talent, you know. And you both are, and so is young Jeran." "Reidinger has an odd way of displaying concern," the Rowan replied testily. "When I think of the blastings I've received…"
"Come now, Rowan," and Elizara's tone altered, "surely you, of all the Primes, appreciate loneliness!" She paused while the Rowan did indeed feel the pinch of that accusation. "Grandfather cannot let personal feelings interfere with his professional responsibilities. Much as it might surprise you," and the gentle Elizara spoke with an edge to her voice, "he feels very deeply. He just hides it better than anyone else." My apologies, the Rowan said meekly. I know I'm selfcentered. "Primes tend to be," Elizara said more mildly, "it's a hazard of the profession. And you mustn't change your responses to him. He'd be annoyed with me for even suggesting that there were chinks in his shield. But I'm a match for him. As you two are. And you, Isthia, are far stronger than I first thought." Isthia had been watching Elizara's face intently. Now she shrugged noncommittally.
"Deneb is my future. But I am interested in these insights on the formidable Earth Prime." Her voice ended on an upward note.
Elizara gave a brief warning frick of her hand. "Enough of banter. Let's move some of these flowers out of this room. Too many is just too many for newborn lungs." "Not to mention the air conditioning units in this part of the dome," Jeff said.
"You know, it was really rather sweet of him," the Rowan murmured sleepily. And by the time the transfer was finished, she was fast asleep, one arm curled protectively about her son.
"He's rather a good baby, as babies are," Isthia remarked several days later when she was making her farewells. "I didn't think I'd miss Ian, but I do. And I've wallowed in luxury far too long." She ignored her son's snicker and laid her hand on her sleeping grandson's forehead. "He'll be a handful, Rowan, but you've started out right." "Thanks to you, Isthia," and the Rowan's voice and mind were deep with gratitude.