Turning Point (9 page)

It's too soon,
he thought, reaching for her.
Wait for a week, a few days even.

I've waited too long already
, came the tart rejoinder as he was thrust firmly out of her mind.

Reeling back on his haunches with the force of her rebuttal, he watched helplessly as she tucked the legs of her trousers into the tops of her boots.

Getting to her feet, Carrie went over to the door and opened it, peering cautiously into the corridor. It was empty.

“Wait here, Kusac,” she whispered, stepping outside and closing the door behind her.

Kusac sat down again. “If only she would stay another couple of days,” he muttered. He would rather have waited until his leg was completely healed before going in search of his fellow Sholans from the
Sirroki.
His limp wasn't painful, but he knew from his forays around the valley that apart from slowing him down, it would make him tire more quickly.

Carrie returned a couple of minutes later with her brother's rucksack tucked under her arm. Luckily, she'd seen it squashed into a closet in the hall a couple of days before. Dumping it onto the bed, she unbuckled it and began to check over its contents. It still contained much of the standard issue from one of Jack's field trips that Richard had been on. There was a stove and some of the small solar cell batteries that fueled it, a pan, eating utensils, a couple of lightweight insulated blankets, a basic medical kit, and some dehydrated packs of food.

“I hope you can hunt for both of us, Kusac,” she said wryly as she shoved everything back into the rucksack and began ramming her clothes and spare boots in on top.

That done, she pulled a knife out of one of the side pockets and, loosening her belt, threaded the sheath onto it. Fastening the buckle, she settled the knife over her right hip.

From the wardrobe she brought out her thick winter parka and slipped it on. Taking a last look around the room to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything important, she picked up the rucksack and moved over to the door.

“Come on, Kusac,” she said, checking the corridor once again, “we're leaving.”

Stopping outside her brother's room, she gently probed it to see if he had returned, but it still felt empty. Unlike hers, his window looked onto the fields at the back of the house.

Not quite accustomed to trusting her Talent yet, she opened the door warily, taking a good look round before she stepped inside and went over to the window. Releasing the catch, she pushed it open and leaned out to see if there was anyone at the back of the house. When she was sure there was no one about, she lifted the rucksack up, balancing it on the sill. To the left, just below the window, lay a pile of sacks. That was ideal: it would break the rucksack's fall, and among sacks of the same color, it was unlikely to be noticed. Heaving it over the edge, she let it dangle at arm's length before swinging it toward the sacks. She let it go, and with a faint whump it landed right on target.

Shutting the window, she turned back to Kusac.

“Okay, old fellow,” she said, “it's our turn.”

Carrie made her way back downstairs to the now deserted kitchen. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she rummaged around in the pantry, emerging with a small package of food and coffee which she stowed in her pockets.

She had just moved toward the outer door when she heard Meg come into the room.

“Ah, Carrie, I'm glad I caught you before you left. Jack Reynolds is in the lounge waiting to see you.”

Carrie hesitated, torn between a desire to go now while she had the courage to leave and the fear of drawing attention to herself by acting out of character.

“On you go,” urged Meg, going over to the sink to fill the coffeepot. “I'll bring some coffee and biscuits in to you.”

Balked, she went into the lounge, Kusac following.

Do not project your mood,
came the gentle warning.

“Hello, Jack,” she said, trying hard to tone down her frustration.

“Hello, my dear. Did I catch you as you were going out?” he asked, standing up as she entered the room. “Sorry about that, but I won't take up much of your time. I just wanted to check up on my two favorite patients.”

“It's all right. Please, sit down,” she said, taking off her jacket and sitting down on the settee opposite him.

“Let's start with Kusac,” he said, moving over to where the cat sat at her side.

“Stand up, there's a good fellow,” he said, stroking him between the ears.

Kusac obliged.

Jack felt down both his rear flanks, checking the hip and knee mobility, comparing the sound leg with the injured one.

“He's a bit stiff, but that should pass. I must admit I'm impressed at how fast he's healed, almost as if he's had some help,” he said, giving her a sidelong look.

Carrie shrugged. “Don't look at me,” she said. “I know nothing about healing.”

“Hm,” was all he said as turned to her. “Let's see your hands, then.”

Carrie held them out for Jack to take and examine. Normally she disliked being touched by anyone except her immediate family, but Jack was different. His touch didn't make her uneasy, didn't feel like he was taking a personal liberty with her.

Jack studied her fingernails carefully. The new nails were already halfway up the fingers and were perfectly formed with none of the creases or bumps in them that he would have expected. He released her.

“How about the scars?”

Carrie pushed up her shirtsleeve. There was the faintest of pink lines running upward from her elbow to disappear under the rolled up sweater.

“They're all like that,” she said.

“There's not a lot I can say, is there? Obviously there is going to be little if any scarring, and your hands are perfect, my dear,” he said, getting back to his feet and returning to his chair.

Carrie dug into her jacket pocket for her cigarettes and offered one to Jack.

“Thank you,” he said, lighting up. “You know, I think last year's tobacco crop was the best so far.”

There was a gentle knock on the door and Meg came in bearing a tray with a plate of biscuits and two mugs of coffee. She handed it to Carrie then left.

Now that she was calmer, Carrie could sense Jack's uneasiness. As she handed him his coffee and offered him a biscuit, she relaxed further, carefully letting her mind match his as she had been shown how to do with the Valtegan, and tuned in to his surface thoughts. He wanted to ask her some more questions about her link with Elise, that was why he was concerned about not upsetting her.

Her sense of humor reasserted itself.

“What do you want to ask me about Elise, Jack?”

Jack looked faintly startled.

“You've changed since your sister died,” he said abruptly. “I must admit I expected your strange talents to disappear, but they haven't. In fact, they've increased.

“You'll have to take care, Carrie. They're talking about you in town. We may be civilized, but out here on this frontier world, superstition takes over, often overwhelming science and logic.”

Carrie looked down at her hands.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Oh, it doesn't bother me. I know there is a rational explanation for what you do, and one day I intend to find it, with your help. Just, for God's sake, don't play your games with the townspeople. You frighten them, and frightened people can be dangerous.”

“All right, Jack,” she said, looking back up at him. “What is it you want to know?”

“We thought that this link with your sister was mainly telepathic, and only with her, so how come you now seem to be able to pick up other people's thoughts?”

“I could only sense Elise, but she was able to reach one of the guerrillas—a girl called Jo, I think—and send her the information she gathered in Geshader.

“No,” she said, forestalling his question, “Jo isn't a telepath as far as I know, she only got vague images from my sister which she interpreted as hunches or intuition. Elise said Jo was never sure what came from her and what she had worked out for herself. If I remember rightly, Jo was the
Eureka
's linguist.

“I don't know why I could only pick up my twin. Perhaps the link with Elise was so strong that it drowned out everyone else.”

 

Kusac tuned out their conversation, focusing his attention on the fact that Carrie's sister had been in contact, albeit a very primitive contact, with one of the guerrillas. This could prove to be useful at a later date.

He had to find his crew mates. He knew that before they had left him they had said they were heading for the life pod that they'd tracked down to the forested region not far from Valleytown.

He didn't know how much exposure they'd had to the Valtegans, but it was obvious to him that this was the species for whom his people had been searching. It was even more vital that he reach the rest of his team now that he knew their computer crystal was in Valtegan hands.

His attention was abruptly pulled back to the girl as he felt her need to tell this man of her new link. Icy cold fear washed through him and, with no time for subtlety, he sent a negative command to her.

 

Carrie suddenly found herself unable to talk or move. His fear began to resonate along with hers and sheer terror gripped her.

Swiftly he took control, damping her emotions and searching for her short-term memory. He lifted the thought of telling Jack from her mind and backed out, gradually returning control to her.

Confused, Carrie suddenly found herself feeling light-headed and swayed a little in her seat.

“Are you all right?” Jack asked, reaching forward to steady her.

“Yes. Yes, I'm fine, honestly,” she said, rubbing her eyes in an effort to clear her vision.

“I think I've overtaxed you,” he said. “We'll leave it at that for today.”

The door opened and her father came in. He looked angry and determined.

“Afternoon, Jack,” he said, standing in the open doorway. “Carrie, I've just had a visit from David Elliot. Yes, well may you groan,” he said tartly. “Unless you accept his proposal, he intends to go to the Town Council to have you allocated to him as his wife. I'll have no daughter of mine go through the indignity of a Council Marriage Hearing. I've assured him you will accept, so get used to the idea that you'll be married within the month.” With that, he left.

Carrie sat stunned, unable to think of anything to say.

“David Elliot?” said Jack. “Surely you can find someone younger and better than him.”

“Ah, well, you said it yourself, Jack. I frighten everyone else off. I don't exactly have any choice now,” she said slowly, picking her coat up. “Will you excuse me? I think I need to go for a long walk.”

“Yes, of course,” said Jack. “Look, don't go doing anything foolish now.”

Carrie flashed him a smile. “Who, me? No, I promise I won't do anything stupid, Jack. You have my word on it.”

 

“Going out now?” Meg asked as Carrie walked through the kitchen to the door.

“Yes, I'm taking Kusac for a walk,” said Carrie, reaching for the latch.

“There's no need to be on the defensive with me, Carrie,” Meg replied mildly. “I'm not going to try to stop you. Don't go far from the settlement, though. There are a lot of Valtegans around today.” Meg frowned briefly. “Are you sure that jacket's necessary, child? You're going to be boiled alive in this weather.”

“Yes,” said Carrie firmly, stepping into the yard and waiting for Kusac to follow her. “It may turn chilly later on.”

Meg shrugged and turned away to get on with her work.

Carrie pulled the door closed behind her, leaning weakly against it for a moment, trying to control her jangling nerves. Now she had no option but to leave home. The knot in her stomach refused to relax and her throat felt tight with fear. Straightening up, she looked over to where Richard's rucksack lay a few meters distant.

She reached out for Kusac's mind, wishing as she did so that there was something beyond the normal animal thought patterns there. He was the only being, other than her tutor, on whom she dared to try out her increasing new abilities, and on him they did not exactly have a marked effect. Sometimes she could induce him to move in specified directions, but not very often. She hoped that now might be one of those times. If he would only move toward the sacks, she would have a legitimate reason for going over to them in case anyone was watching.

Come on, Kusac,
she urged him mentally.

Stiffly, Kusac jerked to his feet, a slightly astonished look on his face. Carrie sighed with relief as he walked over to the rucksack, his movements seeming stilted to her because she knew him so well.

“Good boy!” she murmured, releasing him from her control before she ran over to grab the pack. Clutching it tightly against her chest, she urged Kusac on ahead of her.

As she made her way through the fields toward the river, she realized that she had not yet decided where she was going. There was only one reasonable option open to her; head for the forest and try to join one of the guerrilla bands that roamed there. Perhaps she could meet up with this linguist Jo.

Damn her father, damn David, and damn Meg! Why had they made it impossible for her to stay at home? Any one of them could have helped to make life bearable for her, but instead they treated her like some fragile semi-invalid, cosseting and protecting her from the harsh everyday world until she had almost come to believe they were right. And now she was to be sold off to the only bidder in the cattle market called marriage.