Steven Harper - Dreamer

Repayment was partly accomplished through performing the inter-system communication work that remained the stock in trade for Silent everywhere and was the primary source of income for the monastery. Another rule, this one unwritten, stated that one paid back by paying forward. Taking on a student was the primary way of doing this, though finding and recruiting was another method. A fair number of Siblings were unsuited to recruiting or teaching, and remained Brothers and Sisters-field agents, communication experts, and researchers in the main. Brother Kendi, however, had his own agenda. Father Kendi would have the freedom and resources to search for his family on his own. Father Adept Kendi would be able to comandeer others to help him.

And successfully teaching a student with a heretofore unknown form of Silence would bring him a certain amount of notoriety, meaning the unofficial pay-forward period would be shortened considerably.

“I can’t deny I’m looking to advance,” Kendi said calmly. “But that isn’t the main reason I’m doing this. You know me better than that, Ara.”

Ara sighed. “I guess I can’t stop you. Teach him, then. Just be careful.”

Kendi rose and turned to go.

“And Kendi,” Ara said. Kendi paused and looked back. “I’ve taught over a dozen students. I’m here if you need advice.”

Kendi nodded his thanks and left.

Mother Adept Araceil Rymar emptied her teacup into the tiny sink. Kendi had learned a great deal, she had to give him that. Not long ago, he would have dug in his heels and kept on fighting, which would have only made her want to fight back. Now, however, he had learned how to sidestep this problem. Still, he hadn’t noticed how she’d steered the conversation away from herself and levered it back on him.

Youth and beauty will forever lose to age and treachery, she thought wryly.

Ara stared down at the little brown trickles left in the bottom of the sink. She’d had the perfect opportunity to tell Kendi about the Empress’s order, and still she found herself dodging the issue. Before that, there had been the excuse of needing to repair the ship and taking care of Pitr’s memorial service and it had been easy to tell herself she’d take care of the situation as soon as all that was done. Now, however, she still found she couldn’t do it.

Why burden him? she thought. It’s my problem, and there isn’t anything he can do to solve it. He’ll have his hands full with Sejal.

She had hoped to talk Kendi out of teaching the boy. Not only was Sejal’s Silence an unknown, it wouldn’t be a good idea for the two of them to get too close. Not if Sejal might…die. Unfortunately, Kendi had been correct about the law. If she had continued to refuse him-and as captain of the ship, she could technically refuse any request she wanted-her refusal would be overruled the moment they arrived back at the monastery. Besides, Kendi was, in many ways, another son to her, and she hated fighting with him.

Ara rubbed a hand over her face. The strain was starting to tell on her. She felt tired all the time, and she barely ate. It was difficult to summon the concentration necessary to enter the Dream, and she found herself avoiding the Dream in any case because lately it always seemed to involve messages to the Empress.

Her chime sounded. “Come in,” Ara said automatically.

The door slid open, revealing Chin Fen. Behind him stood Harenn, eyes half-closed, veil covering her lower face. Ara had ordered that whenever Fen left his quarters, he was to be accompanied by a crew member. He had no computer access, and no door on the Post Script would respond to his voice or thumb. Electronic shackles still adorned his neck, wrists, and ankles, and everyone on board except Sejal carried a master unit.

“Harenn says the repairs are finished,” Fen said. “Does that mean you have time to talk to me?”

Ara met Harenn’s eyes over Fen’s shoulder. She nodded and withdrew.

“I can clear space on my calendar.” Ara sat. “Have a chair. Would you like some tea?”

Fen obeyed, choosing the seat Kendi had just vacated. “The only thing I’d like is some information. Nobody on this ship will tell me anything but their names. I’ve been cooped up in that tiny room for four days, and I’m going insane.”

“Ask away, then.”

“What organization are you with?”

“The Children of Irfan.”

“I knew it,” Fen howled. “I didn’t believe for a second that you’d left them, or that if you did, you’d become a Unity trader. It just didn’t fit.”

“I didn’t figure on running across someone I knew,” Ara told him.

“Good thing you did,” Fen pointed out. “Otherwise you would never have found Sejal and his mother. All those lunches. You were playing me for a sap.”

Ara shrugged again. “You got free meals.”

“Bitch,” Fen said affably. “So what happens to me now?”

“Frankly, I have no idea,” Ara said. “I can’t trust you, Fen. You must know that.”

“Why not? I helped you. I stuck my neck out for you.”

“But I don’t understand why you did it.”

Fen looked faintly puzzled. “Because I like you Ara. I’ve always liked you.” He gave a small smile that deepened the wrinkles around his mouth. “And because you were my chance to get the hell out of the Unity. I had this half-baked idea that if I was nice enough to you, you’d get me off-planet. My motivations were selfish. Is that believable?”

“I’m still not sure,” Ara said, ignoring his attempt at humor. “Listen, Fen-all I know is that you came barreling out of nowhere and jumped aboard my ship just as it was about to take off. Your timing was too perfect. How do I know you’re not a Unity spy?”

“Look,” Fen pleaded, “I knew you were looking for Sejal and his mother a long time before you left Rust. If I were a Unity spy, I would’ve reported you to the Unity right away. You’d have been arrested, I’d have been promoted, and they’d have gotten Sejal.”

“You have a point,” Ara admitted grudgingly. “But I still don’t know what to do with you.”

Fen shrugged. “Take me back to Bellerophon.”

“Well, obviously. I’m sure the Grandparent Adepts will take you off my hands. I meant that I don’t know what to do with you now. We’re still eleven days out.”

“How about taking the shackles off me and giving me access to entertainment programs or something? I’m going crazy with boredom.”

Ara wordlessly pressed a button on the master unit. Fen’s collar and shackles opened and thumped softly on the carpet.

“Thanks.” He rubbed his wrist. “Nice quarters, by the way. You’re ranked at Mother Adept these days? Or have they changed the rules about crewing a ship since I left the order?”

“Mother Adept Araceil Rymar at your service.”

“I’m impressed,” Fen whistled. “I’ll bet lots of things have changed around the monastery in-” he coughed pointedly “-years.”

Ara snorted in spite of herself. “Not as many things as you might think. Vasco Beliz is still head of the research division.”

“Beliz?” Fen said incredulously. “He was older than refrigerator mold when I left. He must be ancient by now.”

“He says he hasn’t seen a refresher,” Ara said wickedly, “but you know he has.”

“What about Nowma Reed?”

“Retired. Long time ago.”

They continued to talk, and to her surprise, Ara found she actually enjoyed it. She didn’t have to remember previous lies or try to steer the conversation in any particular direction, and that was a tremendous relief. It was also nice putting off going back into the Dream. Now that Sejal’s existence was pretty much common knowledge, at least among the Silent, the Empress’s requirement of secrecy was no longer necessary, and Ara would have to report to the Council of Irfan everything that had happened-the discovery of Sejal, his odd powers, Kendi’s adamant desire to teach him. Ara wasn’t looking forward to it. So far she’d used the excuse of having to repair the ship and consult with the Empress as reasons to put it off, and Fen was a good excuse to put it off yet again.