TO TOUCH THE STARS                "The man paced like a caged wildcat in
                                   the locked cabin.  His right arm hung
Part 2: `Dancing on Tenterhooks'   uselessly at his side, the forearm
                                   swinging slightly at the midpoint, bone
Nicole Gustas                      showing through a gap in the skin. He
                                   didn't seem aware of the pain."

Livana arranged Tamsin's unconscious body as comfortably as she could, then ran down to check on the refugees. She was relieved when she found no one had been injured in the extremely rough landing. She directed them up to the galley and rushed to the door. She opened it and saw two men running toward the spaceship with a number of medical personnel trailing behind them. As the two men came to the door, she pulled out a blaster and trained it on them, a cold sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. The danger wasn't at an end yet. She couldn't let them board the ship until she was sure who they were.

"Stand and deliver," she called to them, then waited breathlessly for their response to the code.

"Your money or your life," said the shorter one with bronzed skin and curly brown hair. "We're from Ground Zero." He rushed up the stairs and into the ship, the tall, bearded darker one close on his heels. "I'm Chas El Andar, head of the hospital here. This is Troy Guthridge. Who are you? Where are Tamsin and Jaysen?"

Livana rushed along beside them, trotting to keep up with their long legs. "I'm Livana. I've been helping out on the ship, keeping the refugees organized and trying to get Tamsin to rest. She's extremely ill. She passed out just after the landing. I don't know where Jaysen is."

"What are Tamsin's symptoms?" asked Chas, taking the stairs two at a time.

"She has an extremely resilient strain of gangrene. I haven't seen it before. It's resistant to the broad-based antibiotics you have on board this ship. I've tried to help the antibodies breed, but I haven't had any luck. If you put me in touch with your chief genetic engineer, we can design an antibody that should put it out of commission." Livana gasped out the last few words, out of breath from hoisting her heavy body up the steps even in the relatively light gravity.

"You were able to analyze the infection that closely with the instruments we had on board?" Chas asked skeptically.

"No one could do that. It's my Gift; I can link with a patient and view the infecting cells that way."

Chas stopped and, for the first time, she felt, really looked at her. "Doctor Livana Oduvai! I've read your papers on substance-induced tachyocardia!" He shook her hand quickly, then continued rushing toward the bridge, now within view. "It's a pleasure to have you here. I hope I can encourage you to join our staff; we're always looking for more medical doctors."

They reached the top of the stairs and Chas threw open the door. Livana could see one pale, waxy hand hanging from the pilot's chair. Chas tapped his comunit. "I need a stretcher on the bridge immediately." He knelt by her and turned the chair.

Tamsin's face looked like a mask; her skin and lips were the same drained white. She didn't move as Chas lifted one eyelid and shone a small light into her eye. "Absolutely no reaction. She's sunk into a comatose state."

A nurse leading an antigrav stretcher came to the door. "Help me get her on there," Chas ordered. With Troy's help, Chas and the nurse gently lifted Tamsin onto the stretcher. "Bring her to the intensive care unit in the quarantine section; start her on amoximyacin immediately. Take her blood and get Kazimir Raudanitis to start immediately on crafting an antibody. She's infected with a new strain of gangrene. I'll be sending someone to assist him in a few minutes. Tell him to use the large lab in the quarantine section. He can bring in any of the techs he wants." The nurse nodded and sped down the stairs, maneuvering the antigrav stretcher skillfully. Livana stood against the wall, out of the rush of action.

Troy tapped his comunit. "We need Layten or Zach up here immediately to access the computer and get the logs. We have to find out what happened to Jaysen."

Chas turned to Livana. "Where are the rest of the refugees? We need to put them in the quarantine units."

"I told them to go to the galley. They're waiting for directions."

Chas turned to Troy. "Get those refugees into the quarantine units; I have some doctors there ready to process them."

"You need to send some guards here, as well," Livana said. Chas and Troy looked at her, confused. She straightened her shoulders. "We have a prisoner down in crew cabin D."

The man paced like a caged wildcat in the locked cabin. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, the forearm swinging slightly at the midpoint, bone showing through a gap in the skin. He didn't seem aware of the pain.

"He attacked Tamsin down in the engine room with a laser cutter. She broke his arm to get it away from him," Livana told Chas. "He destroyed one of the power receptors. Tamsin rerouted the power, but had to continually manually stabilize it to keep the ship going."

"What else did he do?" asked Chas.

"He brought a transmitter on board with him. After we launched, he broadcast our position. I gather some fighters came after us. I wanted to treat his arm, but every time I came near him, he attacked me." She ignored the bile that came up her throat at the memory of him rushing toward her, blood in his eyes.

Chas shook his head. "I can't believe Tamsin and Jaysen could have such poor judgment! They know as well as anyone else how cautious we have to be."

"Don't blame them. He was imprisoned by the government and `reeducated'. They embedded a second personality that was triggered when he made arrangements to board the ship. No one could have known. Even his Gifted wife couldn't tell the difference."

The armed guards came to the door. Chas gestured inside. "That's the prisoner. We'll have more details about him when we get the details in the ship's log."

The guards opened the door and the man rushed toward them, attacking. One of the guards stunned him. The guards put their arms under his, and dragged him from the room, head bobbing limply. Livana felt her stomach begin to quiet as Chas escorted her out of the ship. She knew she was on her way to the lab, and she couldn't afford any distractions while she was trying to heal someone.

"It's unfortunate," Livana said. "He was a kind man. Not very intelligent, or very driven, but he had a good heart. He was trying to help the Gifteds. He just wasn't clever enough to avoid being caught."

Chas nodded. "It's happened before. We have a great psychiatric staff here; they may be able to help him." As he led her across the spaceport and toward the medical facility, he looked at her quizzically. "How do you know all this about him, anyway?"

Livana smiled bleakly. "He was my husband."

Livana spent most of her twenty-nine hours of required quarantine with Kazimir, the genetic engineer, working to develop an antibody that would keep Tamsin's body from being consumed by the infection, going through the physical parts of the quarantine procedures when she stopped for a bite to eat or to use the bathroom. Even with their non-stop work, it was a near thing. Chas had to cut away the worst of the infected flesh to slow the pace of the invading gangrene, and replace it with an organic bandage that would be absorbed back into the body as Tamsin healed. Once the antibodies began to work, Livana urged the new cells to divide more quickly, speeding the pace of healing. When Tamsin's vital signs had stabilized, Chas brought Livana to the temporary quarters that she and her daughter had been assigned to and told her he'd set up an appointment to discuss her future with the medical center later in the day. As soon as she opened the door, she was assaulted by an excited twelve year old.

"Mom, Mom, I'm so glad you're back!" Olanna said, hugging her excitedly. Her nose wrinkled and she let go quickly. "Whew, you smell! I was worried about you. I haven't seen you since we got here. They sent one of the nurses to tell me you were OK, but I was still kind of nervous."

"I'm fine. I was working with the pilot of our ship. She's still very ill, but it looks like she's going to make it. And I think I got a job." Livana stood on her toes to kiss her daughter's forehead. Her daughter was already as tall as she was! She looked like her father, with his creamy brown skin, so much paler than Livana's own. Livana shook her head as she hugged her skinny daughter. "Has Kaori been taking care of you?"

"Kaori's boring, Mom. Kalin let me borrow a primary psychology textbook. It's really neat."

Now that her daughter wasn't wrapped around her neck, she could see a slight figure standing by the window. She wasn't much taller than Olanna or Livana. Her hair fell like ebony silk down to her knees, and her black, tilted eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled at Livana and held out two delicate hands, palm up, in greeting. She radiated serenity. I like this woman, thought Livana immediately. She placed her plump hands, palm down, atop the woman's. "I'm Kalin," said the dark-haired woman. "I'm with the resettlement group. I came to ask your daughter if she'd like to go to school today. We're having an orientation session for the new children in a few minutes. Would you mind if she went?"

Livana turned to her daughter. "Would you like to go?"

"Of course I want to go! Besides, you'll be sleeping for hours anyway." Her daughter was accustomed to the routine of her mother the doctor.

Livana yawned. "You're probably right. But isn't it a little late in the day for school to start?"

"You're still spacelagged. It's now seven-forty-five AM," said Kalin. She rested a hand on Livana's arm. Livana felt a wave of compassion and -- was it hope? -- spilling through her. "Get some sleep. I heard what you did for Tamsin. You deserve it."

After she kissed Olanna good-bye, Livana curled up on the bed and fell deeply asleep.

She woke to the sound of her daughter quietly puttering around the room. She stretched and smiled blearily at the girl. "Hi, hon. How was school?"

"It was great. They said they'll put me in an accelerated class if you don't mind. They also want to test my Gifts, if you think it's OK." Olanna sat down on the edge of the bed.

Livana stroked her daughter's hair. "I think that's wonderful. Some of the best teachers are here. I'm glad they'll teach you to use them."

Olanna got up and began straightening her schooldisks, which spilled all over the dresser. "I checked your v-mail. Chas El-Andar wants to meet with you at five-thirty. Is he the one who wants to give you the job? And Kalin invited us to dinner with some other families at seven, to talk about resettlement. Can I go play with Vasilissa tomorrow after school?"

Livana tried to keep track of the questions tumbling over one another. "Is Vasilissa one of your schoolmates?" asked Livana, smiling. Back on Narid, no one would ask a Gifted child over to their house to play. Olanna had had a lonely childhood. It looked like that was going to change.

"Yeah. I figured you'd be working late."

"Not if I can help it. I want to spend some time with you."

Olanna, eyes alight as they had never been on Narid, shrugged and smiled. "I'll keep busy. Did you know Kalin is Dad's doctor?"

Livana was used to following her daughter's non-linear conversation, but this comment surprised her. "She is?"

"Yeah, she's going to try to help Dad get better."

"How did you know there was something wrong with your Dad?" How much did her daughter know, anyway?

"I found out on the ship. I heard you talking to the pilot about it." Livana's heart sank. Her daughter knew everything. Olanna held her hand and smiled at her. "It's OK, Mom. Kalin told me it's not Dad's fault. I know he didn't want it to happen. If anyone can make him better, Kalin will."

Livana didn't feel much better. While she and her husband had spent most of the past few years separated, and he'd had very little contact with Olanna, her daughter was still at that age where she considered her parents infallible. When he'd told them he would get them off Narid, it had made him a hero in Olanna's eyes. It hurt Livana to know that her daughter had learned what had happened to her father.

"Get up, Mom!" said Olanna loudly, poking her mother and dragging her out of her self-accusatory thoughts. "It's four-thirty. You'd better get ready for your interview." She pulled clothes out of the drawers, then turned back to her mother. "Go take a shower. You don't want to look like you just got out of bed, do you?"

Livana walked to the bathroom, trying to figure out where the day had gone and wondering just when her daughter had decided to become her mother.

"The hospital needs a competent administrator, and from all the recommendations I've received from your coworkers who preceded you here, you fit the bill admirably." Chas poured her a cup of green tea, which matched the pale green tunic and pants her daughter had selected for her. ("You're not going to wear that old outfit, are you, Mom? It makes you look pudgy. Wear this instead -- it makes you look more businesslike.")

He blew on his tea to cool it as he continued. Even sitting calmly, Chas seemed to take up the whole room; he was almost bouncing in his chair, anxious to get up and move around. He spoke quickly, the words leaping out of his mouth. "One of our people -- I'll introduce you to him later -- managed to coax your records from New Boston Hospital. You had some very impressive reviews. It's fairly clear that, without the restrictions put on Gifteds, you would have been titular head of your department by this time, instead of just doing the admin work of one."

The bronzed man put his cup down and leaned forward. "Ms. Oduvai, I'd like to offer you the position of Head Administrator at Selene Hospital." Livana sat back in surprise. She'd been expecting a position as staff doctor, at best, but nothing like this. "It's a larger position than you've held before, but I think you have the skills. And, quite frankly, we really need someone with both medical talent and administrative ability in the position. I've been trying to do it, but," he made a large gesture, nearly knocking over the teapot, "I really don't have any talent for it. And I don't have the time, with all my other duties." He held up a hand in warning. "It's not the easiest job. You'll be expected to take on some patients. And we'd also like you to work with our metametric division. They're researching the various Gifts. Your healing ability is one we haven't had a chance to work with before. They'd like to help you develop it." He pushed a datapadd at her. Her eyes opened even wider at the yearly figure she'd be paid. "That includes a month's paid vacation the first year. After the first year, you'll also receive a month's paid sabbatical, although I've never seemed to use mine. You'll find there's not enough hours in the day here on Maris."

"But isn't that always the case?" Livana smiled.

Chas waved his hands, sending his cup teetering on the edge of the table. "I'm not speaking metaphorically. Since you're from Narid, you're used to a 29-hour day. Here, there's only 22 hours in a day." Livana blinked in surprise. Now she knew where her day had fled to. "But there's an advantage; a work day is only 7 hours here. What do you think?"

Livana tried to catch her breath. Chas' enthusiasm was infectious, but she had to really think about this offer for a while. "I have to admit, I'm very surprised by your offer. This wasn't what I was expecting at all. My only concern is...you see, I have a daughter..."

"Olanna is taking an advanced course load, plus beginning metametric courses. She's also signed up for the Young Explorers and the Drama Club." He grinned at Livana. "If I were you, I'd be worried whether my daughter was going to have enough time for me!"

"How do you know all this?" asked Livana, taken aback.

"Your daughter told me when she came to visit this afternoon. She likes it here. She said she wanted to keep busy when you took your new job."

"She couldn't socialize much in New Boston over the past few years. I guess she's trying to make up for lost time," Livana said with a wry smile.

Chas stood. "Why don't I take you on a tour of the hospital, and while we walk, I'll tell you a little more about life on Maris." She left the room at his heels and kept up with his fast walk down the brightly-colored halls. "Selene Hospital is the primary medical center and research facility on Maris. It's also linked with Ground Zero, the Naridian resettlement project. The colony was established less than a hundred years ago, which is part of the reason we set up a refugee center here. The colony was thrilled to get new people, especially highly skilled ones like many of the Naridian refugees. You'll find no prejudice against Gifteds here."

Chas turned left into the patient wing, leaning a bit to the side like a racing aircar in a steep turn. His shoes made a soft hissing sound against the floor. "I want to take you in to check on our new star patient." He stopped at a door and paused for a second. Livana read the patient's name on the door -- T. Donner. Chas threw open the door.

Inside, Livana saw Tamsin, slightly less pale than the white sheets. Her head snapped up guiltily as she withdrew the organic knife she'd been using to dismantle the bed's computer. Livana wondered absently at the mechanism that allowed the blade to slide so smoothly back into her wrist. Pieces of the computer lay all over the brightly colored patchwork quilt spread over her lap. "Hi Chas. How are you settling in, Livana?" she asked weakly.

Chas sighed. "Tam, you did that last time. Don't you think we've caught on by now? That's a dummy computer. We hid the real one." Turning to Livana, he said, "Last time she was here, she realigned the monitoring computer so it would continue to report that she was here and stable while she snuck out of the hospital." He turned back to the pale woman in the bed, her hair in a tangled copper halo around her head. "We've Tamsin-proofed the room, kid. You're not sneaking away this time."

"Then give me a datapadd or something!" the redhead snarled. "I've been stuck here, with nothing to read but a hardcopy book of deconstructionist poetry Kalin gave me. I'd rather be back on intravenous food than eat the stuff that passes for food here. And no one will tell me what's going on! Let me out!" She pulled a pillow out from behind her and threw it at Chas. It fell uselessly to the floor half a meter short of his feet.

Chas picked up the pillow and fluffed it, then walked over behind the bed and tucked it behind Tamsin's head as she squirmed down under the quilt, pulling it up to her chin, breathing heavily after her outburst. "If you were well enough to go home, you would have hit me with that pillow. Besides, knowing you, you'll find a way to use the datapadd to help you get out of here."

"Just tell me one thing, and I swear I'll be the perfect patient," Tamsin said defiantly.

"What do you want to know?" asked Chas.

Tamsin suddenly looked vulnerable and very scared, burrowed almost completely under the big patchwork quilt. "What happened to Jaysen?"

Livana's stomach twisted. Kasimir, the tech who'd helped her create the antibody, had told her a lot about Tamsin and Jaysen. If half the stories of their exploits were true, they deserved great respect. He described the two as being almost one person in two bodies, so deeply were their souls intertwined. It wasn't just Tamsin's body that was injured near Narid. She seemed bereft, torn apart without her other half. When Livana saw people like this, she felt almost relieved she'd never bonded with anyone, not even her husband, so strongly.

Chas sighed and patted Tamsin's shoulder. "We still don't know. As soon as we find out, I'll come right down here and tell you."

Tamsin's jade eyes were hollow and dark. "If they caught him -- Chas, I don't know if Kalin ever told you what happened to her in there. I remember what she looked like. I brought her back to Maris."

"I've read the records," Chas said. "Try not to think about it, Tamsin. You can't do anything from a hospital bed. Now, will you please get some rest? I'm going down to Layten's office right now. I'm as worried as you are." He squeezed her hand. "Stop dismantling our equipment, will you?"

Livana slipped out of the room behind Chas. "What happened to Kalin?"

"You remember when the medical center outside New Boston blew up?"

Livana could still smell the charred flesh. "We received a few of the corpses at the hospital. They never had a chance."

Chas looked grim. "Don't feel too bad for them. I don't know all the details. I was in transit when everything happened. I think there are some things they didn't put in the report." He swallowed and continued, speaking distantly and clinically. "Kalin was methodically tortured. They found some interesting ways to stimulate the nerve endings. There are areas on her skin that will never have sensation again. The nerves were burnt out entirely, and we have no way to replace them, at least not now. They used cruder methods, too -- they pulled all her nails out by the roots, crushed the bones in her feet -- it's amazing that she was ever able to walk again."

"But -- that was a medical center! I used to refer some of my patients there! I'd tried to get a job there because they were known for their innovative techniques. I can't believe --"

Chas cut her off with a chopping motion. "There's a reason they had those innovative techniques. The doctors there felt progression of their research outweighed any ethical questions. They had a lot of subjects to test on, all the prisoners who were difficult to break. We still haven't seen all the fallout from the experiments done on the people who were kept there --\x11it'll be years before all the problems come to light." He pressed his lips together.

Livana could see him going over the records of the patients in his mind and could only imagine the horrors he found there. Torture, experiments -- those were all things she only read about or watched in the latest adventure sagas. She knew, in some part of her mind, that it had happened, but she couldn't quite grasp it. Kalin was so calm, so serene; how could she have been through all that and come out intact?

"Anyway, here's our destination -- the computer facility." He led her into a dim room with a number of holos playing near all the walls. Two men sat in the center of the room. One with black hair pulled back in a ponytail, high cheekbones, a dark beard, and bright blue, tilted eyes was tapping away on a datapadd; the other, slumped slightly, wan, and disheveled-looking, had his eyes closed. Livana looked at the largest holo to see Tamsin, weary and pale, in her ship's uniform. "I've lost Jaysen. I believe he's been captured. We were sabotaged shortly after taking off. Jaysen was boarded while defending the ship so it could go into warp and depart the system. In case I don't make it to Maris, I want it known that I take full responsibility for what has happened here..."

The man with the datapadd paused the image and turned to Chas. "I've been going through the logs again to see if I can get any more information. No luck so far. Layten's been trying to access some systems on Narid."

The other man shifted in his seat and began to sit up, tucking his long, dark skirt around his legs. Livana noticed that, even when alert, Layten looked like he was trying to blend in with the couch he was sitting on.

"I'm glad to see you're back. I thought you might have gotten trapped in a subroutine," said the first man.

"You try getting results from a program when there's an eight-hour time lag between you and the computer you're working on. It's not easy," Layten said, stretching. Livana could hear his back crack.

"I forgot. Introductions." Chas ran his hands through his hair. "This is Livana Oduvai; she's going to be head of admin at Selene Hospital. Livana, this is Zach Shima and Layten Kaige. They run the systems for the hospital and for Ground Zero. Layten," he said, turning to the man still rubbing his eyes, "did you find out what happened to Jaysen?"

"It wasn't easy," said Layten. "I sent a search command through most of the databanks. No luck. I think that hardly anyone even knows they have him."

"You're saying that they do have him, then?" Chas asked excitedly.

"The files were encoded. I just cracked them now." He gestured at the large holo and the frozen log shot of Tamsin was replaced by text broken up by an occasional graph or picture. "These are the records of the Killian Research Facility. They're holding many prisoners there. Total records," he shut his eyes for a minute, then opened them again, "ninety-four. These people are considered the most dangerous to the government. They're now being used as lab rats for new reeducation techniques. The idea, apparently, is to break them and then get them working for the government. It's a refined version of what they did to Kalin."

Livana could hear the disgust in his voice. She bit her lip and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. She'd only seen the quicksilver man who'd helped her get off-planet once, but that image, as he helped her into the ship with a quick grin, whispering words of encouragement, had flashed before her whenever anyone mentioned him. She couldn't imagine him being tortured.

Then she realized she could and felt even sicker.

Layten continued grimly. "I also accessed the records of former detainees. Seems they're more successful at killing them than reeducating them."

"What else have you got?" asked Chas.

Layten blinked again, and the text changed to a three-dimensional map of the building. "This shows the various rooms in the facility. Cross-matching." He closed his eyes. Livana realized, with a shock, that he was mentally connected with the computer. She'd heard of people who had cortical implants allowing them to link with computer systems, but she had never actually seen one. Most people didn't like to get that close to their machines. Names began popping up in the rooms on the screen. "Jaysen's being held here." Layten put his finger in the center of the holo, pointing at a room at the bottom floor in the center of the building. "Except for the top two floors, which house the workers at the facility, this building is completely underground."

"Any chance you can take down their system?" Zach asked.

"Put me on Maris, with a five millisecond lag between me and their computer, and I might be able to do it. But from here -- impossible. Too many things change too quickly. I'm not even sure I could dredge any more information from their system."

"Can you make sure Tamsin knows about this?" Chas asked him.

"I told Kalin as soon as I knew. She's breaking it to Tamsin now."

"We need to bring it up in the Council meeting on Wednesday," said Zach, "even if we can't do anything. Do you think Tamsin will be well enough to attend?"

"Do you think I could keep her from leaving her bed?" said Chas, laughter behind his quick, staccato speech. "She's only been conscious twelve hours, and I already caught her trying to dismantle the computer in her room. I don't think I'll be able to keep her here past tomorrow night." He glanced at his watch. "Look, Livana's got a dinner appointment in a few minutes, and I want to try to finish this tour. We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"It was nice meeting you two," said Livana over her shoulder, rushing out of the room on Chas' heels.

"I'd like to show you the metametric research facility," said Chas, speeding down the corridor. Livana had to nearly run to keep up with him. The first thing she was going to do as administrator, she decided, would be to get Chas to slow down. "No one's really done the research full-time on the Gifts the way we have here. We've conclusively proved that metametric ability is the result of mutations caused by prolonged low-level radiation exposure in the first two hundred years of spaceflight. The mutations just exacerbated a latent ability humans already had to one extent or another. We found records dating back to three hundred years before commercial spaceflight that showed humans had these abilities. Unfortunately, most of them were put under psychiatric care because they heard `voices'. No one realized they were picking up other people's thoughts. And no one could teach them how to shut them out. When a telepath can't learn shielding, they tend to go mad." The corridor they turned into was crafted out of polished stone, with round windows. A waterfall trickled in an alcove in one wall. The click of Livana's heels echoed off the walls.

"But how do you explain all these new talents that are cropping up?" asked Livana.

"Once again, we go back into archaic records. For instance, your talent is one that pops up repeatedly in religious chronicles. The founders of a number of Terran religions, for instance, were said to be able to heal by simply touching a person. Skeptics thought that the people who were healed simply had psychosomatic illnesses, but some of these healers had amazing track records. One man, named Cayce, had hundreds of tomes that kept records on the many people he'd healed. And you, of course, are living proof. We're hoping that, through you, we can learn how to develop those skills and teach other people with that talent how to use it."

"There's one thing you haven't told me. How did Kalin and all the rest get out?" They entered an large atrium which was decorated like an old-fashioned Zen garden. They stepped on the stone path between the plants and walked toward the bridge over the free-form pond in the center of the room. It had an air of tranquillity to it. The atmosphere even seemed to affect Chas -- his steps slowed, as did his speech.

Livana watched him stare into the water, chewing his lip, his bright, flowered shirt looking completely out of place in the staid garden. "You probably read the reports. There was an accident with some flammable chemicals being stored at the site. Tamsin and Jaysen were near there when the firestorm happened. They'd been trying to figure out a way to get her out. When they got to the site, they found the prisoners picking their way out between the bodies. Kalin and all the other subjects there escaped unscathed." He paused and grimaced. "Well, no more damaged than they were before the fire, anyway."

"But that's impossible!" Livana said, shaking her head, remembering the giant fireball she'd seen from miles away.

"It happened. But we won't know why until we can get into Layten's head to find out how he did it."

"You mean he..."

"Kalin's husband is a firestarter. He has no control over his talent. He's only used it in times of crisis. In fact, no one knew he was Gifted until the one time he used it, when those chemicals ignited. He says he doesn't know how he did it. He may have a memory block."

"He knew what happened to Kalin?" She'd heard Gifted people shared a mental bond, though she herself had never experienced it.

Chas nodded, pulling leaves off the elm tree by the bridge and tearing them apart. "And we still don't have any more details. That's one mutation that I'm sure has plenty of military uses."

Livana folded her arms and stared down at the worn, purplish wooden planking of the bridge. "Layten said they're using a refined version of the techniques used on Kalin."

"Yeah." Chas was leaning against the railing, head in his hands.

"Do you think we can get Jaysen out?" Livana felt a responsibility to the people of Ground Zero. They'd rescued her, and she'd do nearly anything to keep them from harm.

Chas looked at her, dark eyes hollow as Tamsin's had been earlier. "If we can't, I hope he dies quickly."

Tamsin studied the perfectly smooth, glassy water in the kilometer-long reflecting pool, the just-rising tiny white sun chasing the surface with a thin coat of silver. She looked to her left, to her right, and then, cautiously over her shoulder to the shadowed arches of the hospital. She was alone in the spacious courtyard. She tossed the coins in her hand, then took one, placing the rest in her pocket. She crooked her finger around the silver disk, then glanced again around the courtyard. She saw no one. She tossed the coin precisely at the pool. It bounced off the glassy surface, once, then twice. As it skipped, the distance of the hops got shorter and shorter. After twenty-six hops, it sank to the bottom of the pool.

"So, this is where you are every morning," said a mellow contralto to Tamsin's right.

Tamsin jumped and, by reflex, began to crouch in an attack position facing the voice. She saw the rose lips curling in a gentle smile and sighed, dropping back into a more normal stance. "I really hate it when you do that."

Kalin looked out at the water, the small ripples caused by the recent disturbance quickly stilling, and then back at Tamsin, glossy jet hair slipping over her shoulder. "How did you do that? There aren't any pebbles anywhere around here."

Tamsin took her left hand out of her pocket, clenched in a fist. She opened it toward Kalin, showing her the three copper and one silver disk that lay there. "My one inheritance from my mother. Thirty-eight cents."

Kalin inhaled sharply, then breathed out in a low whistle. "Thirty-eight cents? You could buy some planets with that! Those should be in a museum. I'm surprised you're throwing such valuable artifacts in this pool. Did you ever try to sell them?"

"Yeah," shrugged Tamsin. She took one copper disk, shoved the rest back in her pocket, and tossed it at the pool. Twelve skips. She grimaced. Kalin had disturbed her concentration. "They're counterfeit." Kalin's mouth pursed in a silent "oh." Tamsin smiled with some bitterness. "They skip well, though."

Kalin stared out at the water. Tamsin sent another disk skimming across. Patter patter patter plop. She turned and stared at Kalin, waiting for her to break the silence. Kalin just stared at the water, calmly. After a minute, Tamsin said angrily, "Look, did you come out here to talk to me, or what?"

Kalin turned to her smoothly. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were entertaining yourself."

"You've already done that. I probably won't get one skip out of the rest of these." She balanced on one leg, tugging the boot off her other foot.

"I wanted to talk to you about Jaysen," said Kalin.

Tamsin ripped the boot off her other foot, tugged off her socks, then shoved her pants above her heavily muscled calves. "I'm going after him."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kalin asked.

Tamsin waded into the pool, the water splashing around her legs as she went to pick up the first coin. "It's the only thing I can do. I can't leave him there."

"You're not in good health right now," Kalin said calmly. Tamsin began to feel a pressure, slight but growing, in her head. "Do you think you could slip in there in your condition?"

Tamsin was furious. "It doesn't matter what my condition is! I won't leave him in there!" She kicked violently, sending water everywhere. "And will you stop doing that! Scheiss'n projecting empath -- it drives me crazy!"

"Scheiss'n?" asked Kalin, one eyebrow raised.

Tamsin shrugged. "Sorry. It's Staatsprache." Even now, whenever she got angry, she slipped into the rough city language she'd grown up speaking. Considering who was in control of the government now, it might become Narid's planetary language in a few years. "You wouldn't want to know."

Kalin smiled apologetically. "I was just trying to calm you down a little. It feels like you're about to attack someone. But I've never been able to do that with you. Your shields are impressive. You're sure you're not Gifted?"

Tamsin wanted to hit something, but there was only water. "I'm not Gifted! I hate that word! Damn it, that's the whole root of the problem."

"I don't understand."

Tamsin's smile was sharp and brittle. "Of course. You have no idea what the word Gift means in Staatsprache, do you?" Kalin shook her head. "It means poison. Where I come from, you wouldn't dare admit you had the talent, even before the new government came in. It's considered," she thought for a second for the best word, "unclean. And dangerous. Even the word, Gifted." Her stress on it was slightly different, the i becoming nearly an e, the d becoming a soft sh. "How can you think it's a good thing when it sounds like it's poisonous?"

Kalin's brow wrinkled. "Goddess, you're serious, aren't you?"

Tamsin picked up the last coin and stepped onto the blue brick, trailing dark stains of water. "And that's why Jaysen is where he is now. Sometimes I think both of us would have been better off staying in Tiburon." Her mother had hoped she'd stay; she'd been too old for her work and had wanted to support herself by selling Tamsin's body instead. But she'd stayed in school, right next to Jaysen, if only to keep him from being killed by some of the gang members he'd offended.

"You both would have been dead by now."

"I rest my case." Tamsin picked up her boots and walked across the courtyard toward her quarters. "There's no way you can change my mind. I'm responsible for him, and I won't leave him behind." Her boots slapped against the edge of the arch as she stepped under it, out of the sun. "Remember when you were a prisoner? Did you think we'd leave you behind?"

"Yes." Tamsin turned, shocked to Kalin, a dark, delicate figure silhouetted by the light streaming through one of the arches. "I never thought anyone would get me out. I thought if you didn't, then you'd be safe."

Tamsin leaned a shoulder against the cool stone wall and gritted her teeth. She'd never cried in front of anyone, and she wasn't about to start now. "You thought we'd leave you there? You thought we'd let you die?" She heard her voice break and shut her eyes, trying to clamp down. She would not, would not, think of Jaysen, trapped in despair.

She felt Kalin put an arm around her waist, felt the weight of her delicate head against a shoulder. "Tamsin, you got me out. But look at Layten. I know his nightmares. I feel them every night when he sleeps beside me. The four of us nearly didn't get away. Are you willing to take the risk again and have it go the other way?"

Tamsin buried her face in her friend's obsidian hair and pulled her a little closer, trying to block away the dark hole filling her chest. "I have to. I can't let him die."

Kalin paused for a moment before the doors to Tamsin's quarters. Layten stood behind her, a cool rock, providing support mentally as well as physically. Kalin took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"What do you want?" came the hostile voice from the other side as the door opened. Tamsin was curled up on a chair, copper hair pulled back, black clothes making her look terribly pale as she tapped away at a computer console.

Kalin placed a datapadd on the desk. "Here's a list of what we'll need."

Tamsin looked up at her blankly. "Need? I don't follow you."

"Supplies. To rescue Jaysen." Tamsin's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything, just stared. Kalin smiled slightly, the only hint she'd give of the laughter bubbling inside. She'd always wanted to strike Tamsin speechless. "You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?"

Layten slipped an arm around her waist. I'm going, too.

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Of course. Did you think I'd leave you behind? She spoke aloud again. "There's supplies for three there. Night goggles, food, camouflage clothing," she shrugged, "big guns..."

"But I haven't even talked to Manda yet," Tamsin said, shaking her head.

"We did," said Kalin. "She understands what you want to do. She figures she'll tell the rest of the Council after we leave. That way, they won't be able to protest."

Tamsin snorted as she scanned the list on the padd. "Sounds like our dear chair is going to get herself into some pretty hot water."

"It wouldn't be the first time," rumbled Layten's deep voice.

"You're going to need to add supplies for one more person. Chas is coming," Tamsin said.

"Chas is a doctor. He's got no combat training. Do you really think he's appropriate?" Layten asked.

"And what do you think we're going to do when we get Jaysen out?" snapped Tamsin, looking up at him. "Bring him to Arcadia Hospital and say `Hi, our friend's been tortured, can you patch him up'? Not bloody likely. Besides," she continued, looking back at the padd, "he insisted. I couldn't talk him out of it."

Kalin sat down on the sofa. Layten stood against the door, hands clasped behind his back. Tamsin's sparking green eyes shifted back and forth, from one to the other. "So. We have four people against about sixty guards. I love an even fight," she said sarcastically. She propped one foot up on her desk, drumming her fingers against her knee. "I have an idea on how to get in there. Layten, do you think you could crash their system?"

Whenever Layten accessed the computer, Kalin could hear it whirring in the back of her head like it was part of her brain as well. "I can, but not for long. It's got an automatic reset mechanism."

"That's fine," said Tamsin. "This is going to be a quick in and out operation, nothing fancy. Our only objective is to get Jaysen out."

"What about the others?" asked Layten.

"If we have time. I don't want to be callous, but there's only so much we can do." She leaned forward and stabbed a button on the console. A three dimensional line drawing of the complex filled the center of the room. The room where Jaysen was being held was tinted gold. "Here's what we're going to do."

Interlude Two

Jaysen curled up on the hard pallet that passed for a bed, staring at the gray walls in his perennially twilit cell, rubbing his face as the last traces of the drug left him. The interrogation sessions came as irregularly as the food. He didn't even have any facial hair to tell him how long he'd been there; he'd had it suppressed months ago so he wouldn't have to shave. He smiled slightly. If only he'd wanted a beard, like Zach.

He pictured his friend, safe on Maris, remembering the last time he'd been there. Two days before the mission, he'd gone boating with Zach and Tamsin. He could almost smell the salt, and see Tamsin leaning over the prow of the boat, her copper hair hanging loose over the water. He smiled, remembering how he'd pushed her over the side, and how she'd quickly pulled him in after her, completely ruining his new silk velvet shirt. He hadn't minded; the ensuing water fight had been too much fun. If Zach hadn't been there, maybe he would have had a chance...

The gray walls loomed high, and his throat closed. He knew he'd never survive to see her again. Oh, Tam, he thought, then whispered to the air, "There was so much I wanted to tell you."

He turned his face into the corner and tried to sleep, using the meditation techniques Kalin had taught him. But sleep wouldn't come. He kept seeing Tamsin's green flashing eyes, smelling her, hearing her voice.

A hand touched his shoulder. He sat up in shock, instinctively grabbing the wrist and pulling on it to unbalance his attacker. The legs before him shifted only slightly, and he heard a soft snort. "I'm glad you remembered something from your physical combat classes."

He looked up to see sharp green eyes smiling slightly at him, a red braid slithering over one gray-suited shoulder. "Tam!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

She pulled him to a standing position. "Did you think I could leave you in here? I had to rescue you." She stopped and stared at him quite closely. "Answer me one question," she asked him. "Who did you take to our final-year semiformal at University?"

"I didn't go. I was supposed to take you, but you were busy slogging through the jungle at the time," he said. Somewhere, a voice inside him whispered, Don't trust Tamsin. "Why are you asking me?"

She bit her lower lip and looked down a moment. "I had to make sure it was you," she said. She turned to lead him out of the cell, but not before he caught the worried look in her eyes. "This has all been too easy. I think there must be a trap hidden somewhere." She looked up the corridor, then down. "Coast is clear. Our distraction must have worked. Come on!"

He followed her as softly as he could down the corridor. Voices came from around a corner, speaking in that peculiar Western drawl so familiar from his childhood. She flattened herself against the wall as she peered around a corner. He saw her fists clench spasmodically as she turned back to him. "Someone's coming." She pulled him to a door, then tapped a quick code on the lock next to it. The door opened and she pulled him in, then slapped a panel beside the inner door to close and lock it.

"We're safe for now," she sighed, then slapped on the bright lights. Jaysen found himself standing at the center of an interrogation room, and his stomach flipped as it brought back vague memories of questioning. He looked back to his friend for support as a voice inside said, Don't trust Tamsin. She was leaning against the door, arms folded, looking at him with a curiously cold smile. "Something bothering you, Jaysen?"

"How'd you get the code for the door?" Don't trust Tamsin don't trust Tamsin DON'T TRUST TAMSIN.

She shrugged. "One of the techs gave it to me."

He walked closer to her. "Which one?"

"There are so many," she said, waving a hand and walking toward the table in the middle of the room.

The voice inside him screamed. He clenched a fist, fighting an almost overwhelming urge to hit her and grabbed her by the hair, to yank her back. Something was wrong, very wrong. "There are only two."

Very quickly, Tamsin turned around, wrenching her hair out of his grasp and grabbed his wrist. With a quick, bone-wrenching twist, she pivoted, moving his arm behind his back and forcing him, face-first, against a cold wall.

He could feel her body press against his and her hot, moist breath against his ear. "You should know better than to try that on me, Jaysen," she whispered, her free hand tracing down his thigh, her voice like a shard of glass. He shivered. "I've always been better at hand-to-hand than you."

He felt a jolt of pain as his wrist was pulled higher, almost above his shoulder blades. A tongue quickly flicked on his earlobe, his throat. He began shaking and couldn't stop.

The hot mouth moved away from his throat and he felt cold metal slide along it. It moved up to his cheek. He looked down, out of the corner of his eye, afraid to move any more, and saw a silver blade trace along, felt the flat of it stroke around and back along his skin to the nape of his neck. He wanted to laugh, or to cry. It wasn't Tamsin. She never used a metal knife, not when the two organic blades in her wrists served her so well. He tried to take a deep breath and couldn't. "What do you want from me?"

Her damp, warm voice whispered in his ear again. "Only the answers to a few questions." He heard tearing cloth as the knife traced down his spine, felt the salty trickle of a few drops of blood following it. His wrist was released as she cut his clothes off, but he didn't dare move, feeling burning where the blade cut him, on his arms, then again across his back and down, knowing even the slightest shift could mean worse damage. Her fingers gently traced the cuts, rubbing wet slick blood into his back, his buttocks, his thighs. He felt the tickle of her tongue again on his ear as he tried to lose himself in the pain and ignore her fingers, and the knife. "There's no reason I can't have fun while I ask," the voice laughed, as the knife traced down his spine, then lower.

Jaysen lay balled up, shuddering, in a corner of his cell. He felt filthy; his skin crawled and his mind wouldn't stop screaming, replaying the hours in the torture chamber. He could feel her hands all over him, and the ever-present knife. He knew he'd heal soon. He knew she'd be back again. And he knew, however much he wished for it, she wouldn't kill him.

Nicole Gustas (ngustas@hamp.hampshire.edu) recently gave up working 80 hour weeks in favor of following Duran Duran around the East Coast. (Some people follow the Dead...) She's interviewing at various colleges, including CMU and American, in hopes of completing her bachelor's degree sometime before she's 90. She's desperately searching for a better title for this series of stories, so if anyone thinks of one, please let her know.