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.
"Same thing, different objects," Gerolaman remarked as if he couldn't care less. And the Rowan was excused to his care. "You're a clever one," he told her when they were on their way to Stores. "Good shot Siglen's not got an ounce of empathy: You were leaking a little of what you felt in there and that's not good." "I was?" "You're getting careless. Don't! Siglen's got faults, the Good knows that, and we all suffer from them from time to time. The main thrust of her Talent is the gestalt. Most of us here," and his gesture took in the entire Station, "can bounce things from a place we can see to a place we know about. But she can juggle objects she can't see and get them where they're supposed to go even if she's never been there. Nor likely to go. So you study her, Rowan, and get to hear underneath what she says.
"Lusena says you've a high empathy rating. Let it work for you. I don't say you should attempt to manipulate her moods but you could sort of ease her along now and then and she wouldn't get suspicious. That way," and Gerolaman gave her a shrewd sideways glance, "you won't get so bored, working several levels in that white head of yours." He ruffled her hair affectionately.
For some reason that casual caress had more effect on the Rowan than Gerolaman's spoken advice.
"He touched me, Purza. He put his hand on my hair and messed it up, just like Finnan does. That must mean he likes me. Is it because he understands Talents?… Oh, he's not a pervert, silly Purz. It wasn't that sort of a touch.
"I'd recognize the slimy kind from what Bardy told me.
"Gerolaman's got children of his own. He treats me like one of them, Purza. Fatherly. It would be nice to have a father, Purz." Gerolaman was instructed to act as paternally as circumstances permitted.
"But she's a Prime Talent!" Gerolaman had replied, surprised, pleased, and nervous. "I can't just treat her like I do my daughter." "That," Lusena said firmly, "is exactly what she needs! A little fatherly affection! Bardy and Finnan had their father during their early childhood. Rowan never had a father figure. Since she has now realized it, we must provide a suitable substitute and you're it, Gerolaman!"
"Sure I'll do what I can. The Good knows she'll get no love and affection from the Prime." Gerolaman often prevailed on Siglen to lend him the Rowan for more "muscle" exercise. These tended to be dispatched quickly enough so that the Rowan would have time to have a snack or "tea" in Gerolaman's office. On those occasions, he would explain other aspects of the Tower responsibilities, its administration, how cargo was routed from one Prime station to another, the "windows" to other systems and moons, how to connect with mid-space drone shipments, the major mid-points all around the Central Worlds' sphere of business and colonization. In a relaxed atmosphere, she developed the spatial sense she would require when, if she came into Prime status, she would need to know how to scan the instrumentation in the Tower that kept track of all matter in the Altairian sector of the galaxy. She learned to appreciate and how to adroitly assist the lesser kinetic Talents who did not have the gestalt faculty but nevertheless handled the traffic of message capsules constantly shunted about the Nine-Star League.
Gerolaman would often take her out of the Tower and into the freight yards so that she became familiar with the variety of carriers, freight pods, drone vehicles, specialized cargo carriers for live or inanimate freight. He took her on inspection tours of the powered ships from scout vessels and shuttles to the great passenger and immense bulky freight containers. He had her memorize the major trade routes and lines, the space stations and other Nine Star League facilities until she knew the furniture of space as well as the things in her own quarters.
"You should know every aspect of this business," Gerolaman said, "not just how to sit in that Tower couch and bitch when there's an equipment failure." There had been one recently and Gerolaman had borne the brunt of Siglen's outrage and fury, for she felt that she would be held responsible for a failure that interrupted the smooth function of Altair's FT amp;T Station. The Rowan had been in his office when the Number 3 Generator had overheated and started shedding parts. She had seen how quickly Gerolaman had patched in the spare and then ordered an investigation of the accident. When it appeared that poor grade oils had been at fault, he canceled the supplier's contract and took tenders for a new source.
That morning provided the Rowan with a new insight into her own problems with the Prime. The next day provided yet another. A T-8 stormed into Gerolaman's office, threatening to resign and leave Altair altogether to get away from "that woman": Siglen had taken out her frustration with the brief lapse of service on the first person to irritate her.
"I didn't realize, Purza, that others have problems with Siglen," the Rowan told the pukha that night. "I made myself as small as I could and I don't think the T-8 even saw me. I liked the way Gerolaman talked to Macey, kindly like, as if he was as deeply hurt as she was.
"He got her an accommodation at Favor Bay for a week off, though her annual holiday is not for another three months. I wonder if we get holidays. It'd be nice to get away from the Tower for a while. Lusena used to take us all on trips when I lived with her." Lusena, Gerolaman, Bralla, and Interior put their heads together to figure out how they could grant that wistful desire.
"I didn't realize so much time has passed but the Rowan's been here for two years," Interior remarked.
"Everyone gets holiday time."
"Except Siglen," Gerolaman said gloomily. "And who could possibly take over if I went on vacation?" Gerolaman's falsetto was a poor imitation of Siglen's fruity tones.
"Even I get away. Maybe that'd be the answer. Siglen might give her leave of absence if I promised to keep up her exercises. My family's got a nice cabin in the woods…" "No woods," Lusena interrupted, holding up a warning hand. "For the Rowan, mountain and forest might be traumatic. I always kept to the plains and the seaside when she vacationed with us."
"Well, then," Interior began briskly, "there's a Cabinet guesthouse, spacious, but not too grand, which can be made available to her. At this time of year, there aren't all that many vacationers at Favor Bay." She gave Lusena a significant look.
"I'd gladly accompany her," Lusena replied with a long sigh. "I could use the break myself. And I've nieces, my brothers' children, who are the Rowan's age. She's had no peer group contact since she came here and she shouldn't get so far out of touch. She may be Prime material but she's also a young girl and that side of her development shouldn't be neglected as…" Lusena tactfully broke off.
"I think a few words in the ear of the Medical Office might produce some results - especially if Bralla," and the Interior winked at the woman, "and Gerolaman notice that the Rowan is becoming listless, with no appetite… you know the sort of thing that can afflict the overextended youngster, Lusena." "Indeed I do." " Ill?" Siglen's eyes enlarged while she also appeared to compress herself.
"How is the child ill?" Rarely indisposed herself, Siglen had no patience with sickness.
"Well, as you know, Siglen, girls her age are prone to minor ailments and I do think she's sickening for something," Bralla remarked. "Why, you know yourself that her appetite's been poor these past few days. You might suggest to Lusena to remove her until the symptoms disappear." "To the infirmary?" "Well, a full medical check never hurts," Bralla replied.
"I'll make arrangements immediately." So the Rowan was given an official leave to improve her health: Siglen practically ordering her out of the Tower.
Favor Bay was essentially a family resort, with an excellent crescent beach of fine powdery sand: a marina catered to water sport enthusiasts and the bright, clear water encouraged them. There was also a small fair with a mechanical amusement park and an aquarium situated on the northern tip of Favor Bay 's crescent. The Cabinet guesthouse was set up on the southern hill surrounding the Bay, in its own grounds, neatly obscured from public view by shrubs and trees of Terran origin which had adapted to Altair and flourished in the mild climate of that part of the coast.