Being of the Field

  Lucian shrugged, his options limited. ‘How long do you think it would take us to get back to Oceane?’ he queried and Leal thought his captain was joking.

  ‘A month using the inter-system gateways. Quite a few years otherwise. Why would you want to go back there?’

  ‘Because I am sick of being a mortal among super-beings!’ Lucian finally expressed his angst.

  ‘You’re not serious?’ Leal wondered if the captain had taken leave of his senses. ‘I would not wish this life on anyone—’

  ‘I cannot hope to protect Taren as things stand,’ Lucian said quite lucidly, ‘for not only am I psychically ill-equipped, I am being discriminated against for that very reason. No one will tell me anything! I don’t figure highly enough in the scheme of things to be kept in the loop as to what is happening in Taren’s life…but Zeven is informed! Why do you think that is?’

  Leal could sympathise with Lucian’s situation, but he had to point out the downside: ‘Even if you were psychically gifted, it could be a passive type of Power that would not serve you as you hope…then you’re stuck with it as long as you live, with no respite.’

  ‘I’d take that chance right now.’ Lucian’s communicator sounded and he responded to the call. It was Kassa.

  ‘Have we lost power? What was that explosion?’ the doctor queried, concerned for the patient she had in the medical quarters.

  ‘Just a little evasive action, nothing to worry about,’ came the captain’s reply.

  ‘So long as everyone is all right up there…’ Kassa tried to get him to be more specific.

  ‘Yes, we’re fine. Leal is fine,’ Lucian said, guessing at her most pressing concern. ‘How’s Ringbalin doing?’

  ‘He’s still out to it,’ she replied, whereupon Ringbalin released a groan. ‘I’ll keep you posted.’ She hung up and moved to Ringbalin’s bedside, expecting he would be traumatised when he woke.

  ‘No.’ He tried to lift his hand. ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘I’m right here. Ringbalin?’ Kassa coaxed him from his slumber by gently stroking his face. As she made contact with his skin, she felt a rush of awe pass through her—if this was what Ringbalin was feeling, his consciousness was in a more beautiful place than she had expected.

  His head wavered back and forth, as if trying to avoid consciousness, then his eyelids shot open. A few deep breaths later, the botanist laid eyes on Kassa and calmed.

  ‘Ringbalin, welcome back,’ she greeted him. ‘How are you feeling?’

  He dwelt on the question and his expression soured. ‘Gutted,’ he replied, suppressing his emotions. ‘I killed those soldiers, didn’t I?’

  Kassa nodded. ‘They would have killed you,’ she said, trying to sanction what he’d done.

  ‘And I’d be with Ayliscia.’ He turned away as tears overwhelmed him.

  Kassa only had to consider losing Leal to empathise with Ringbalin’s pain. ‘It was not your time, Balin.’

  Ringbalin gasped and sat upright suddenly. ‘That’s what Armaros said.’

  ‘Who is Armaros?’ Kassa queried, having never heard the name before.

  ‘Um,’ he frowned, considering the question. ‘You might say he’s the sentinel of my higher consciousness.’

  ‘Ringbalin,’ Kassa gasped, intrigued. ‘You’ve had contact with your higher self?’

  ‘It seems so,’ he replied, recalling the conversation he’d been having with three lofty beings just before he’d awoken. ‘They were here, in the room, and probably still are.’

  The comment gave Kassa a shiver in her bones; not a fearful sensation, but altogether delightful. ‘Really?…’ She looked about, unable to psychically detect any presence, but she had never been a very talented medium.

  ‘Apparently, the being we encountered on Oceane was an even higher manifestation of our combined higher selves,’ Balin added.

  Kassa’s gaped in amazement. ‘What are you saying?’

  Balin was very calm, and stuck out his bottom lip as he considered how to explain. ‘I’m saying that you channelled a causal being, Kassa…not just a threshold dweller like Armaros, or a silent watcher who oversees him, but a fully fledged deva…A universal architect,’ he added for absolute clarity. ‘That’s clairvoyance.’

  Kassa giggled, not sceptical but amazed. ‘And your higher self told you this?’

  He nodded. ‘Some…I just figured out the rest.’ Balin hopped off the table and staggered on his weakened limbs.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Kassa caught him, and guided him back to bed.

  ‘I need to see the captain. Urgently.’

  ‘Then let’s bring the captain to you, shall we?’

  Kalayna and Aurora arrived to check on Ringbalin just before the captain arrived.

  ‘Oh, thank heavens he’s awake.’ Aurora breathed a sigh of relief and waved to the botanist from the open doorway that Kassa was blocking. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘Now is not a good time,’ Kassa explained as Lucian ducked under her arm and Leal followed.

  ‘What’s going on now?’ Kalayna queried, sensing their haste to have a closed meeting.

  ‘We’ll let you know,’ Kassa smiled sweetly as she closed the door.

  Kalayna was annoyed at being left out, as was Rory.

  ‘Why does everyone else get to be in there?’ Rory pouted. ‘Do you think they know something about Starman that they’re not telling us? I hoped he’d be back by now.’

  Kalayna suddenly burst into a grin.

  ‘What?’ Aurora called, as Kalayna hurried off towards her quarters.

  ‘I still have my spy toys…’ She waved Aurora after her. ‘I bet that the captain is still wearing the watch I bugged.’

  ‘You bugged the captain?’ she hissed, horrified, as she caught her girlfriend up.

  ‘Part of the job,’ Kalayna advised with a guilt-free shrug and Rory grinned.

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘I know you’re thinking about going back to Oceane,’ Ringbalin said to the captain and everyone’s jaw dropped.

  ‘Why?’ Kassa asked, curious at this turn of events.

  Lucian was so stunned that Ringbalin knew, he could not answer. Ringbalin decided to do the honours.

  ‘Because our captain believes he can advance his psychic powers by breathing in the atmosphere on the planet, just as Starman did.’

  Kassa was about to discourage any such thing, when Ringbalin intervened, eager to stay on topic.

  ‘But, unfortunately, that’s not going to work. I have it on good authority that this course of action will take far too long.’

  Lucian was confused. ‘To what authority do you refer?’

  ‘Ringbalin claims to have had a conversation with his own higher self…and yours,’ Kassa explained, as simply as possible.

  ‘And Zeven’s, too,’ Ringbalin added. ‘They know about everything that has occurred—’

  ‘Do they know where our planet has gone?’ Lucian asked, sceptically.

  ‘Yes, they do,’ Balin replied matter-of-factly. ‘And there may be a means to restore Maladaan to its place in our universe, but they need our help to do it.’

  ‘We don’t have the means to shift a planet through universes,’ Lucian scoffed.

  ‘But in the parallel universe where Maladaan now resides, there is the means,’ Ringbalin said, and waved off that topic for now. ‘The point is, if you do seriously want to enhance your psychic skill without traipsing across several star systems to do it, I believe I have a means to aid you.’

  Lucian’s scepticism fell away, although he couldn’t imagine how Ringbalin would be able to help. ‘The sample of air we took from Oceane was tiny, so—’

  ‘But Taren brought a seedling of a tundrell from Oceane. I planned to develop it as a bonsai and it has been in quarantine in anticipation of that event ever since, as I have been a little preoccupied. The biophoton count of the tundrell hasn’t altered one iota since the deva departed, so…the atmosphere in its bio-containment area is basically
what you’d find on—’

  ‘Oceane!’ the captain concluded, and kissed Ringbalin’s forehead. ‘You’re a bloody genius.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, thank your sentient consciousness, Azazèl.’

  ‘You can’t be serious, Lucian,’ Kassa interrupted, and swung him around to face her. ‘A change like this could drive you, of all people, mad within hours…we were very lucky Zeven didn’t self-destruct.’

  ‘If he can endure it, then so can I,’ Lucian challenged.

  ‘Yes, but…’ Kassa felt he was still not comprehending her concern. ‘Your life will not be your own any more as you will no longer be isolated from the universal web.’

  ‘She’s absolutely right,’ Leal confirmed, and Ringbalin nodded to concur.

  ‘Once you are online, you will be invaded, bombarded, haunted or mysteriously compelled to do things by forces, spirits and people outside yourself.’ She tried to force home the gravity of the consequences he was blindly taking on. ‘Your personal agenda will come second to higher universal plans, for that is the price you pay for being connected.’

  Lucian paused to consider her warning. ‘And yet you are all content.’

  ‘Because we have come to be at peace with our gift over many years,’ Kassa explained, Leal and Balin again nodding in agreement. ‘As you well know from my silence during the Amie affair, there are also burdens and secrets you must bear silently in order to protect yourself.’

  ‘Not on my ship,’ Lucian assured her and she smiled, thankful for his understanding.

  ‘The secret services will not allow us liberty forever,’ she was sorry to say.

  ‘The secret services think we’re dead.’ Lucian brought her up to date on their situation.

  Kassa looked at Leal who grinned. ‘That’s why we powered down.’

  ‘I think I should take the advice of my higher self,’ Lucian said, considering what Ringbalin had said.

  ‘Oh, Azazèl didn’t say you should do it,’ Ringbalin pointed out. ‘He just let us know there is a short cut should you be determined to follow through on your desire, as time is of the essence.’ He noted the captain was looking a little discouraged. ‘Azazèl also said that it would not be the first time that you had awakened your psychic potential.’

  Lucian had no idea what Ringbalin was talking about now. ‘But I have never—’

  ‘Azazèl didn’t refer to this life, nor even to this universe, I suspect,’ Ringbalin clarified.

  Lucian was rather overwhelmed, and sat down to gather his thoughts. ‘Did Azazèl say anything else?’

  ‘He said it is no accident that you feel compelled to risk your own well-being in order to protect Taren Lennox, because your souls are linked to the one destiny.’ Ringbalin saw the captain’s face soften as he seemed to find peace in those words.

  ‘I feel sure that my destiny is not about fearing to discover my full potential as a human being. Do you?’ Lucian posed to all those present.

  ‘Well, no,’ Kassa agreed. ‘It’s that you wish to accomplish this via an artificial acceleration process that troubles me.’

  ‘If there is a price to pay down the road then so be it, if it means I can save the woman I love now.’

  Kassa held both hands high in defeat. Lucian had never before referred to Taren as his love and it brought tears to her eyes; she was happy and sad for him at the same time. ‘I cannot argue with that reasoning,’ she murmured, her gaze drifting to Leal, who winked at her.

  ‘I’d rather die for love, than live in fear and remorse,’ Ringbalin assured Lucian.

  With the approval of his crew, Lucian was feeling more resolute. ‘I should do it now—’

  ‘Please,’ Kassa appealed, ‘just sleep on this decision tonight. A few hours to think it over will not make much difference to any outcome.’

  Lucian was reluctant to wait, although he knew it would be wise to take time to consider his move. ‘I only have as long as it takes for us to reach Sermetica to figure out what my skill is and gain mastery over it.’

  His three crewmates whistled in appreciation of the high level of difficulty in achieving mastery of a Power.

  ‘That gives you about a month standard space-time,’ Leal told Lucian, trying to sound hopeful. ‘But I agree with Kassa. You should take a few hours to think this through.’

  Lucian nodded. ‘I will. Still, if Zeven managed to master his skills in weeks, how hard could it be?’ he asked and his crewmates looked highly amused.

  ‘Zeven has nowhere near mastered his talent,’ Kassa corrected him, ‘and in psychic circles ignorance will never amount to bliss.’

  The first thing that struck Taren when she awoke was how high the ceiling was. The enormous suite in which she’d been deposited was elegant to the point of appearing presidential and, coincidentally, her eyes came to focus upon her alleged father. ‘Anselm.’

  ‘It pains me to hear you say my name like a stranger to be feared.’ He remained where he sat, as Taren raised herself up to a seated position.

  ‘Where is Zeven Gudrun?’ Beyond having that question answered she was not interested in conversing with this man.

  ‘He’s safe—’

  ‘Why should I believe you? I want to see him.’

  ‘Sweetheart, please, will you just—’

  ‘No, I will not just anything! And don’t call me sweetheart!’ Taren climbed off the huge bed to stand up for herself. ‘I don’t care if you are my father, you drugged me…and one of my dearest friends! We were coming to see you of our own free will and then you turn it into a hostage situation! If you are not someone to be feared, then why would you do that? Or is this how one treats family members and their friends on Sermetica?’

  Anselm was not riled and calmly responded. ‘Zeven Gudrun is too powerful to let wander around unrestrained—’

  ‘I am unrestrained,’ she argued.

  ‘You are not psychokinetic,’ he replied.

  Taren’s eyes narrowed in challenge. ‘You hope.’

  ‘I know everything about you—’ he said calmly, not fazed by her threat.

  ‘I know you do,’ Taren interjected. ‘You are the keeper of my memories.’

  ‘Gudrun told you,’ he assumed.

  ‘No,’ Taren stated in all honesty, but made a mental note to question Zeven about whatever her father had revealed. ‘But I could never be sure that the memory data you gave me had not been tampered with, so…’

  ‘There is a master memory file that cannot be tampered with,’ Anselm stated, and Taren’s mood lightened. ‘Unfortunately, the file is to be found inside the MSS database on Maladaan.’

  The wind escaped Taren’s sails only for a second. ‘Not to worry, I shall just have to retrieve it myself. Return me to AMIE with our pilot and—’

  Anselm held up a hand to stop her there. ‘There is a slight problem with that—’

  Taren had realised she was in custody and not just visiting with dear old dad, but she thought she’d test her boundaries. ‘Why should that be a problem?’

  Anselm stood, but did not approach her. His face had a woeful expression and suddenly Taren didn’t want to know.

  ‘Oh, no.’

  ‘AMIE has vanished,’ he advised and the unexpected news paralysed Taren with shock. ‘I cannot take you to a ship I cannot locate and which may no longer exist.’

  Taren did not agree; she felt sure they had gone into hiding again. ‘Zeven could find AMIE.’

  ‘You’re not listening to me,’ Anselm said in frustration. ‘Right before AMIE disappeared off our screens, reports from Phemoria told us that there was an explosion on board.’

  The added shock of this announcement hit Taren like a brick wall. ‘Lucian?’ she wheezed, as her tears welled.

  ‘The captain was on board at the time,’ Anselm informed her. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’re sorry! You bastard,’ she hissed, stepping away from him. ‘All my dearest friends were on that vessel.’

  ‘It was not my doing,’ he
pleaded, feigning total innocence. ‘You have me to thank that you and Zeven Gudrun were not on board at the time.’

  ‘I want to see him!’ Taren yelled, getting hysterical this time. ‘Until you bring Zeven to me, I will not hear anything you have to say.’

  ‘Have it your way.’ Anselm headed for the door, where he bade several agents to enter.

  The men dragged Zeven’s unconscious form into the room and deposited him on one of the lounges.

  ‘As you can see, he’s still unconscious,’ Anselm commented as his men departed. ‘But otherwise unharmed.’

  Taren raced over to check on her friend, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Then she noted the electronic shackle that was attached to his right ankle: a psychic restraining device which all identified psychics were required to wear. The device scrambled a psychic’s electromagnetic field and deadened their ability. ‘What do you plan to do with us?’

  Anselm was getting a little annoyed at being regarded as the enemy, and said, with some exasperation, ‘If you would just hear what I have to say, you will discover that your fate is entirely yours to decide.’

  Taren sniffed back her tears. ‘Okay, then…’ She lifted Zeven’s head, sat herself on the lounge and placed his head on her lap. ‘…talk.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anselm said gratefully. He took a seat opposite Taren to say his piece.

  ‘Mother does not send her regards,’ Taren said dryly and Anselm gave a laugh.

  ‘I’m not surprised. Her name means “cold in the morning”…and that she was.’

  Taren could see the muscles in his face tensing to suppress his disdain while he told of being seduced by the Phemorian queen who stole his DNA and conceived Taren without his consent.

  ‘Why you?’ Taren wondered, but suddenly realised the question might be insulting. ‘I mean, you’re very good-looking and powerful, but those qualities do not interest the Phemorians.’

  Anselm smiled broadly. ‘You’re perceptive. You get that from me.’

  ‘Answer the question.’ Taren would not be swayed by flattery. ‘Do you have the Powers?’