Damia (25 page)

Isthia ruffled her hair affectionately. “That’s right.”

Damia regarded her grandmother solemnly. “Then rescuing Alla isn’t a trick and I can still ride Jupiter?”

*   *   *

The incident, as embellished by Jorg, set Damia apart from the others and while in time even Jorg was glad of her unprejudiced use of Talent to protect her playmates from the worst ravages of the playground, Alla was willing only to be her acquaintance. The lack of a close friend disturbed Damia and worried Isthia. To compensate, the youngster would often accept greater challenges in school and, at home, would often take off on Jupiter for lengthy adventures.

I fear she is a solitary soul
, Isthia remarked in a conversation with her parents.

That’s not a Raven trait!
Jeff replied, who had always had a pack of boys to lead on excursions.

No, it’s more apt to be a Gwyn trait, I’m afraid
, the Rowan said bitterly.
I thought that it was just being Ward of the Planet and having much older foster siblings, but perhaps it is a personality thing.

You bestow your affections frugally, Angharad dear
, Isthia said gently,
but where you do you are selfless.

But I was
so
lonely!
the Rowan cried.
I didn’t want Damia to be lonely, too.

It may be in Damia’s nature to be solitary
, Isthia replied.
But she’s not lonely. There’s Jupiter to ride about on, most of the workdogs when they’re free, and Marmalade on her bed at night. She’s not lonely. She does have
companions at school, even if she hasn’t established a true-blue friendship. That’ll probably take a little more time.

Well, maybe she’ll be happier for a brother.

How are you feeling ?
Isthia asked hopefully.

The Rowan responded with a mental sigh. Jeff added:
She hates to admit it, but she’s been doing much better since the children left.
Isthia could feel the mental nuzzle Jeff sent to his love.
She can concentrate on growing this new one, can’t you, luv?

I should be able to manage as much as you did, Isthia!
the Rowan complained guiltily.

Ah, yes, but I was not running a power Tower nor was my husband absent all the day long on another world. Then again, as soon as my eldest was able, I had him minding babies. Your Jeran’s a solidly responsible boy, Angharad, and I love him dearly, but he’s not quite ready to baby-sit Damia.

The Rowan chuckled at the thought of the self-contained Jeran trying to handle his wild-mooded sister.
Well, maybe he’ll be able to sit for this one.

*   *   *

Damia awoke with a gasp. Someone was crying. Someone felt bad. Instinctively, with a sense of compassion which was fundamental to her nature, Damia reached out to calm the person. Her mental “hand” stretched far, farther than she actively remembered. Whoever was crying was upset because it was cold and wet and had been warm just a few moments ago. Something rough was rubbing against it.

It’s a towel!
Damia exclaimed as she identified it.
It’s all right, you’ll be warm and dry in a moment!

The someone was awestruck.

It’s all right
, Damia repeatedly soothingly.
You’ll be all right now.

The someone was calmed, felt sleepy. Warm and sleepy.

Damia continued to send soothing thoughts, herself growing drowsy in her efforts to send the other to sleep. She yawned, turned over, and drifted off.

*   *   *

“I’ve never seen anything like it!” Elizara exclaimed to Jeff Raven as they took a late celebratory libation. “That child was all set to cry his lungs out and then—” her eyes narrowed suspiciously “—did
you
do anything?”

“Me? No,” Jeff replied, confused. “I had thought it was you. It certainly wasn’t the Rowan.”

“No!” Elizara agreed. “Not under anesthetic.”

“Will it take her long to recover from the Caesarian?” Jeff asked, the thoughts turning from his newest son to his greatest love.

Elizara shook her head, grinning. “This isn’t Deneb, where some of your obstetrics are still pretty archaic. Microlaser surgery heals seamlessly. She’ll be fine in three, four days.” She raised a cautioning hand. “But it will be months before the abdominal muscles recover from the intrusion.”

“So if it wasn’t you, it wasn’t me, and not the Rowan, who?” Jeff, reassured, returned to the original topic. “Afra?”

Elizara shook her head. “It was a female touch.”

“Then it was Damia!” Jeff announced firmly. “That little minx!”

“Really, doting daddy,” Elizara said in one of her rare moments of mischief, “isn’t that a long way for such a young child?”

Jeff shook his head slowly, his smile rueful. “I don’t think any place is a long way where Damia’s emotions are concerned.”

For the first few months of young Larak’s life, both his mother and father “felt” his sister touch his mind, causing him to smile.

“Has to be wind,” Brian replied skeptically when the Rowan remarked on her daughter’s range.

Afra would smile. “She promised she’d be the best sister ever.”

“It’s not as if he has much conversation, Afra,” Brian protested.

“Ah, the heart needs no words,” Afra replied, and with
a totally uncharacteristically dramatic gesture, placed his hand on his heart. Then he picked up the colorful origami birds he was arranging on a mobile for Larak and, with delicate movements, tied them to the string harness.

Brian shot the Rowan a puzzled look before he left the Tower.

However, at some point in Larak’s first year, Damia found out that Alla loved ponies as much as she did, and the two became inseparable. The incidents of contact diminished slightly, but occasionally, and for no apparent reason, Larak would giggle. His laughter was so infectious that he could set off anyone else in the house. But every time his parents, or Tanya or Afra, tried to explain these bursts of hilarity, they found nothing, not even Rascal, to account for them.

“Damia checking in,” became the standard explanation.

“A merry child,” his mother said, “is a double delight.”

Afra forebore to mention that Damia had been a merry child, too. But he did not object to merry Larak and he had become adjusted to the lack of Damia in his life.

*   *   *

“He’s here!” Damia cried excitedly, turning to her teacher. “My brother’s here!”

“Shush, Damia,” the teacher scolded, for the girl was old enough to respect classroom manners. “Continue with your studies. You can see him after school.”

Damia fidgeted her way through school and burst out to the waiting area. Rakella was there.

“Isthia sent me,” she said, grinning at Damia’s radiating excitement. All the girl knew was that she would be seeing her beloved brother. Today, even Jupiter was cast in shadow. Damia hopped into the flitter, practically “pushing” Rakella to exceed the speed limits in the built-up area. She bubbled all the way back to the Raven compound and burst out of the flitter almost before Rakella had set it safely on the ground.

“Where is he?” she called excitedly, but unerringly she headed toward the kitchen, slamming open the door. She stood there a moment. “Larak!”

What young Larak saw was a slender figure a head taller than himself with sparkly blue eyes and long black hair. What Damia saw was a splendid dark-haired brother. She held out a hand entreatingly, sensing his sudden shyness. Cautiously, the toddler took it.

“Now that you’re here, c’mon!” Damia cried. “I’ve so much to show you and tell you . . .” She started for the back door, all but dragging him after her.

“He’s only a baby,” Isthia began, laughing at Damia’s single-mindedness, but the girl’s enthusiasm was contagious and Larak didn’t so much as hesitate a step. He happily followed his magical sister. “Oh, let them go!” Isthia said when someone moved as if to stop her. “She’ll take good care of him. It’s what she’s waited for so long, isn’t it?”

“All I can say is, thank goodness Jupiter’s too placid to buck anymore.”

Damia had planned for Larak to meet Jupiter first, but they were halfway to the paddock when she began to feel a reluctance, a hanging back on her little brother’s part. Looking anxiously over her shoulder, she saw him staring wide-eyed at the wide-spreading branches of the nearest tree. He certainly hadn’t seen the ponies sheltering under it. Damia was utterly charmed by his reaction. What fun it was going to be to show her little brother everything she knew and loved about Deneb. She looked down at him.

“That’s a good tree, isn’t it, Larak? Bigger’n anything in the Park at Callisto.”

“’Listo?” Larak asked, his expression dissolving into worry.

“Who needs ’Listo when they’re on Deneb,” Damia said, quite forgetting her own recalcitrance, but she had imbued her reply with such enthusiasm that her brother’s face altered to a happier mode, though he kept staring up at the tree. Abruptly her original plan to introduce him immediately to Jupiter underwent a selfless change. “D’you wanna know something, Larak,” she whispered conspiratorially to him, “I’ve got a special spot right at the top. Wanna see?”

Big-eyed, Larak could not find voice to speak and mutely nodded.

“Come on!” Damia replied, waving an arm. She was up three branches before she looked back and saw Larak standing still on the ground, looking up at her with a puzzled expression.

“Ooops, sorry!” Damia clambered back down, lifted him up to the first branch, pushing on his bum until he was firmly perched on it and then scrambled up beside him. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

Larak shook his head. “Uhuh, ’Mia.”

Damia giggled. “Damia, not ‘Mia.’ Try it.”

Larak worked his tongue but only got out “’Mia” again. Damia shrugged it off. “You can try again later. Let’s climb!”

It was quickly apparent to her that his legs did not have the length of hers, and while the branches of the tree shot out of the trunk at steppable intervals, her small brother would have trouble continuing. So, since they were high enough up in the tree not to be visible to anyone, she “lifted” them both to the top to her special spot, just where the branches began narrowing to diameters that would not support even her slight weight. Then she parted the branches to give her brother the full view of the realm they surveyed. Pointing out features—where Alla lived, where she had found a brookside cave she’d show him in the morning, the Tower which was conspicuous on the horizon, the smudge of the City—she finally ran out of breath and looked at him hopefully.

“Isn’t Deneb great?”

Larak gave her an adoring look. “’Grea . . . t!” He managed the “t” as a separate syllable and grinned at his success.

I love you
, Damia sent shyly in the quiet “voice” she had addressed him in for the past year.

Larak’s eyes widened, first in fright, then in recognition. His face burst into a beaming smile.
Love you, Damia!

*   *   *

“They’re inseparable!” Linna complained. “She cries and he just sits there, weeping silently. Which, frankly, I find harder to endure than her howling. Put them together and they’re sweetness and light.”

“Didn’t we go through the same thing with Cera and Jeran?” Isthia asked the concerned teacher.

Linna nodded. “Yes, we did, but the solution was to hold Jeran up a bit for Cera to catch up. But that won’t work with Damia and Larak. She’s too smart to be held back—she really should be encouraged to go forward at her own speed.”

“Is Larak bright enough to catch up?”

“He’s bright, but, really, Isthia, it would be most unwise to force his pace to accommodate her. That sort of individualized instruction simply isn’t possible in a classroom environment!”

“Not in a classroom environment, eh?” Isthia repeated thoughtfully.

“Isthia Raven, what
are
you thinking of?” Linna demanded in her best teacher’s voice.

Isthia was impervious since she’d taught Linna the trick. “And you do agree that there are now twelve other youngsters in this school district that have Talented leanings?”

Linna didn’t quite grimace, and her sniff wasn’t exactly disapproving, but her eyes were sad. “The freaks.”

“FT&T freaks,” Isthia corrected her.

“Where do children learn such words?”

“I’m sure I don’t really need to tell you that, Linna, but I am thinking that it’s about time we let our freaks get what they deserve here on Deneb.”

“Not that special school you’ve been trying to wrest out of the Education Committee?”

“Don’t you agree it’s needed?” Isthia retorted. “The Education Committee’s not the only one to complain about lack of funds, but they sure tie the purse strings when I advance the notion that a little expenditure now on proper training and we’d have marketable assets to improve our economy.”

“Our economy?” Linna echoed weakly. “What about our sanity?”

“Linna Maybrick, are you trying to tell me that Talented children are more difficult to teach than regular children?”

“Oh cripes, no! Children are impossible without exception,” Linna responded emphatically. “But how will you get permission? And the specialized teachers?”

Isthia cleared her throat. “Each one, teach one,” she said cryptically, and bent a fond eye on Damia who was patiently showing her small brother how to hold a crayon.

*   *   *

Linna never did hear how Isthia got around the objections of the Education Committee, but somehow the Council found enough money to pay the salary of a T-4 teacher whom Earth Prime had located for them, and Isthia Raven agreed to underwrite his living accommodations. “So we saved a little on salary,” Isthia told her sons and daughters. She also reorganized living space in the Raven Compound to house the Denebian Special School for the Talented until the construction of the permanent facility in five years’ time, at which point the Educational Committee should have the funds to build it.

“I had to compromise,” Isthia Raven said when Jeff and the Rowan came to visit their children, “but it could be worse.”

Jeff rather thought she got what she deserved. “You said ‘If you want it done right, do it yourself!’ once too often, Mother!”