Downtime (16 page)

Daniel
Jinn was not good company, but she remembered him as being quiet to a fault,
reticent. He answered direct questions dutifully enough, and Calla learned that
he’d brought his daughter to Mutare when she was small, long before there was
even a ranger station here, because she had psi tendencies and he did not
believe that the special psi institutes in the Hub were as yet sufficiently
advanced to assure her well-being. He probably was right; very few were
completely sane by the time they reached adulthood, but even that poor record
was better than the psi folk of generations past who always were mad. He
believed his daughter was just a little bit psi, and it no longer troubled her
so much as it did when she was a very young child. Calla and Jason were their third
set of visitors in the last two years, and he could tell that she was dealing
with people better and better. He was considering taking her with him the next
time he went to the station.

“Wind’s
coming up,” Daniel said, interrupting her musing. He was sitting cross-legged
by the fire in the first chamber of the mine tunnel, mending a length of rope. “We’d
best batten down your zephyr; lightning comes and we won’t be able to go out
without getting fried.”

Calla
nodded reluctantly and reached for her stellerator.

They
saved the wearer a lot of grief from cosmic radiation, but were almost like
wearing a lightning rod in a storm.

She
moved the zephyr into the trees so that they wouldn’t have to rely on stakes
driven into the ground. Between them, she and Daniel made short work of tying
down the zephyr, for neither had forgotten how though neither had had to do it
for more years than they cared to remember. Calla was glad they hadn’t waited
any longer; the gusts were beginning to drive rain sideways and the noise was
terrific.

“They
should be along soon now,” Daniel said when he noticed Calla looking at her
chronometer. “He must have slowed her down a bit or they’d have been back already.”

Calla
took off her stellerator and stepped over to the fire. Her khakis shed water
but her hair did not. She flicked out the excess water with her hands. The wind
screamed at the tunnel entrance and she saw the first lightning flashes.
Thunder rolled in the distance.

Minutes
later Jason and Arria came in, both drenched and shivering but smiling. “The
danae’s going to be fine,” Jason said putting his hands over the fire. “Arria’s
got it holed up where nothing can find it and stashed enough fodder for a week,
too. She’s okay.” He rubbed Arria’s head affectionately as the girl kneeled
beside him to be by the fire.

Daniel
came back to the fire with dry clothes over his arm. He unstrapped Arria’s
stellerator and helped her shinny out of her wet clothes, as if she were a
small child. But she was not a child, Calla noticed as she stood there naked
while her father dried her hair. Her breasts were full and firm on her thin
chest, pubic hair downy red. Jason stared until Arria pulled a dry shirt over
her shoulders.

“Don’t
have anything that will fit you,” Daniel said to Jason, “but them khakis dry off
quick. Put a few logs on to help it along if you want.”

“Yes,
thank you sir. But we probably ought to be going.”

Calla
shook her head. “It’s worse toward the station. Can’t fly in winds like this.”

He
didn’t argue, content to warm himself by the fire. He seemed always to be just
on the edge of smiling when she looked at him, his eyes glittering with
excitement. And Calla couldn’t help noticing the shy glances at him that Arria
kept stealing. She sighed and tried not to think of how much Jason must have
enjoyed his outing with her.

The
storm seemed to grow worse, and finally Daniel grunted and dug into baskets
hung on the wall and came back with his big hands full of dried bulbs and
berries. Arria had meanwhile moved a pivoting arm, under which was suspended an
old black kettle, over the center of the fire. She stripped husks from some of
the bulbs, some she threw into the kettle whole. It didn’t look like much for four
people, and Calla was about to offer to go out to the zephyr to fetch rations
for her and Jason.

“You
needn’t worry,” Arria said. “There’ll be enough to go around. These brown roots
are starchy and will thicken the whole pot.”

“Arria,”
her father said sharply. “Don’t answer questions until they’re asked.”

“The
question wasn’t even on my mind,” Jason interjected easily when he saw Arria
begin to blush. “Probably just a natural assumption after discovering that I
know less about Mutare than she does.” The miner didn’t comment and Arria kept
her eyes studiously on the berries she was picking over. Jason looked at Calla
quizzically and with a meaningful glance at Arria, which she took to mean that
he wanted to know if she had formed the unspoken question. Though she hadn’t
thought of it as a question at the time, Calla nodded. Jason smiled
conspiratorially and Calla looked back to see if Arria had noticed. The blush
intensified, but the girl did not look up from the berries.

If
the girl were actually reading minds, her psi ability was exceptionally strong
and focused. Fully developed and certified by the proper authorities, she could
name her own price to provide truth verifications in court proceedings, not to
mention what private concerns would pay to have her services during sensitive
negotiations. Calla also knew that while remuneration was great, personal
sacrifice was great, too. Those psi people who couldn’t withstand the rigors of
development and certification were assumed to be as mad as the ones who never
tried, else basically dishonest and devious simply because they had failed
certification. The general public did not realize that some psi people might
simply not be interested in the few careers naturally and legally open to them.
That left hiding the ability, or going so far from the Hub that having it was
of little consequence. Daniel Jinn was such a simple man that, Calla was sure,
he had never considered any but the running and hiding option for his daughter.
He had never risen to any great heights himself, and could imagine no better
for his daughter. But Calla wasn’t sure. Arria had a look about her bright eyes
that had nothing to do with their being pretty and was totally absent in his
staid ones. Calla wondered who the girl’s mother was and what a complete
analysis of her genetic tattoo would reveal. Probably a lot of things that
Daniel Jinn couldn’t fully appreciate and therefore couldn’t deal with.

“What’s
wrong?” Daniel said, his tone sharp again as he spoke to Arria. The girl was
thoroughly red.

“N-nothing,”
she said, taking a deep breath. She threw the last of the berries into the
kettle, grabbed up a ladle and started to stir the brew.

Calla
felt a twinge of guilt, for she realized she’d been thinking about the girl in
rather more intimate and blunt terms than she would have used in ordinary
conversation, and had therefore caused Arria considerable embarrassment. Likely
Jason was doing the same thing, and if she knew Jason, his innermost thoughts
were even more critical of Daniel than hers. His outward behavior might have
changed, but she knew him to be a crusader at heart. Indeed, as she looked at
him, she saw that his eyes were troubled.

“Arria,”
he said quietly, “do you have any idea if the rain will let up tonight?”

The
girl stopped stirring, her lips thinned. She put her hands in her lap for a
moment, as if thinking or . . . listening? Calla wondered what
Jason was thinking of right now. She had the feeling that something she did not
understand was going on between him and the girl. Finally Arria looked up, her
blush quite subsided now, her eyes calm as she looked into Jason’s.

“Yes,”
she said. “I do know. The danae song indicates the storm has stalled.”

“Danae
song?” Calla asked.

Jason
nodded, looking straight at Calla to avoid seeing the look of alarm from the
old legionary. “Daniel himself mentioned this morning that Arria could hear the
wounded danae. I asked her later if she could hear anything else the danae
said. She mentioned a rain song.”

“She’s
just a little bit psi,” Daniel said defensively.

“That’s
all it would take,” Jason said, sounding unnaturally agreeable. “I’ve always
suspected the danae communicated by psi, but I had no way of confirming it
until I met Arria. I’m very grateful for the information.”

“If
you know enough about psi to suspect the danae have it, you know there’s a
difference between psi-to-psi-talk and normal-to-psi-talk. She can maybe hear
some of that danae singing, but she don’t know much about it because she ain’t
that good a psi. And of course she can’t hear people hardly at all.”

Calla
was surprised to hear Daniel admit that Arria could hear people, even if just a
little. Or maybe he was so well apprised of her full capability that he
realized denying it completely would be useless. Daniel lacked sophistication
and education, but he was not stupid or foolish.

“Maybe
not,” Jason agreed. “Maybe she could if she got the proper support and training
back in the Hub.”

Well,
Calla thought. There was the old Jason. He couldn’t resist voicing the obvious
after all.

“She
ain’t ready,” Daniel said stubbornly. “And I don’t need no advice on how to
raise my child neither.” The set of the old legionary’s eyes was unflinching as
he looked across the fire at the ranger-governor.

Jason
sat back. “Okay. I won’t interfere. But if you change your mind, let me know
and I’ll help you make the arrangements.”

“Won’t
change my mind.”

Jason
just shrugged, apparently willing to drop the matter.

Calla
nodded her approval, and he, knowing that she was pleased with him, winked. He
turned back to Daniel. “There is, however, another matter with which I must
insist upon receiving your cooperation.”

“What’s
that?” Daniel asked suspiciously.

Calla
noticed that Arria was smiling and had turned away to reach for some plates to
hide the smile from her father. It might be one-sided mindreading, but Calla
felt certain that Jason had Arria’s full approval for what he was about to
request and Jason already knew that he did. By the smile alone, or had the two
of them planned this before they came in? Calla wasn’t sure.

“You
and your daughter have invaluable knowledge about the danae. My studies won’t
be complete without your contribution. I would like to return from time to time
and talk to you and Arria about them, record your observations in jelly bean storage.”

“You
mean like confirming that they’re psi,” Daniel said, sounding more resigned
than alarmed, even though he must know that Jason was more interested in Arria’s
knowledge of the danae than his own.

“That’s
right,” Jason said. “I haven’t anyone among my rangers who is even a little bit
psi. What little I’ve learned today is a big breakthrough.”

“I
suppose if I refused, you would find a way to make me help, your being governor
and all,” Daniel said with a scowl.

“I
would think that helping me to prove that the danae, or at least some of them,
are intelligent creatures with as much feeling, perception, and thought as
humans would serve your own personal hopes for your daughter and this planet.
The authorities would slap the bans on Mutare if I could prove the danae were
sentient. Hunting danae for crystal would stop, development of Mutare — if
any were planned — would be halted. Yet you and Arria would have
grandfather rights, which would permit you to stay as long as you did nothing
that was harmful to the danae or their environment.”

“Since
you put it that way, I guess it would be all right,” Daniel said.

“Only
if he’s right and can prove they’re sentient,” Calla added, feeling obligated
to qualify Jason’s position on the danae. “Humans have been in the Arm for
thousands of years and have looked for sentience other than our own — sometimes
to the degree of projecting qualities on indigenes that turn out to be nothing
more than wishful thinking. We’ve never found another intelligent species.”

“Most
have given up. Others have become smug, and wouldn’t recognize proof if it came
up to them and said, ‘hello.’”

“But
what did I say,” Arria said cutting in before Calla could respond to what she
believed had been aimed at her pragmatic outlook, “to make you believe they are
sentient?” The girl was bursting with curiosity.

“You
said nothing to do that,” Jason said. “I already have some indication that some
of them are. What you did was to provide the answer for how some danae could be
intelligent without all of them being intelligent. You told me that the nymphs
cocoon with the danae, which I never knew, and that when the metamorphose,
which I know is the mature danae, emerges it has taken on the characteristics
of the old danae, at least to the extent that if the old danae knew you before
cocooning, the new danae knows you, too.”

“Intriguing,
but hardly conclusive,” Calla said. “It’s not a very practical way of
perpetuating the species. You have to assume that each danae reproduces only
itself, and over time, accidents are bound to happen even to intelligent danae.
They would die out.”

Jason
nodded. “I think they are, in many places. The reversal of the poles seems to
have destroyed natural migration patterns for the wild danae, and that limits
the intelligent danae’s opportunities for cocooning with any except their own
nymphs. That can’t be helping the gene pool. But as for dying out as a race
because they reproduce only themselves, so to speak, I don’t think that’s a big
worry to them. It does limit the . . . depth of their
intelligence to however many generations it takes to acquire it. But it doesn’t
limit the breadth, the potential of any individual danae for becoming
intelligent eventually.”