“Is healing something you could do before you were taken by the collective? Your testimony to this point has indicated that you didn’t have any true manifestation of your Talent before they came for you. Is that correct? Or do you wish to amend your testimony?”
“No need to amend. I didn’t even realize until this moment that I was able to heal. I’m not sure if I still can. It was easy, then, but I had the power of the collective at my disposal, even when I wasn’t in contact with the stone. I have no idea where my Talents lie at the present moment. I was told not to try using any power at all until I was healed from the blast.”
“So, you have not been tested since leaving the collective?” Balous had the air of someone who already knew the answer to his own question, but she supposed he needed to get her to answer for the sake of everyone else.
“No, Vizier Balous. I have not been tested as to strength of Talent or the directions in which it lies. I have only just remembered, with the aid of your hologram, that I even had a yeoman named Marnie, much less that, once upon a time, I was able to heal her hand.”
“Do you feel well enough to engage in use of your Talent now? Have your doctors said anything to you about it?” Again, he shuffled through reports, and she’d bet he had full disclosure of her medical condition.
“They’ve counseled me to take it slow and easy. Frankly, I’ve been afraid to try anything with these…” She gestured to the crystals embedded in her skin. “Nobody seems to know what will happen when and if I try to use my Talent with these shards of the control crystal still in my body.”
“Yet, you have shields,” Balous prompted.
“Yes. Thanks to my sister, Jeri, and her husband Micah, and his cousin, Darak.” She nodded over to the pod where all three sat together. “They’ve extended their shields to me while I healed and continue to do so.”
“Do you consider yourself healed now?”
“For the most part. There are some things that will never be as they once were. Most notably the blue jewelry that now seems to be a permanent part of my attire.” She got a chuckle out of that from a few members of the audience. As time went on, she became less afraid of Balous and his questions.
“I’m glad you brought that up. May we examine the crystals for the record?”
“How so?” She sat up straighter, wondering what they wanted to do to her now.
“Nothing to fear, milady. Simply some close-ups with the bots so that everyone can get a good view of the larger crystals. This is something none of us have ever seen before. We have the medical reports, but a visual record would be helpful, as well.”
“All right,” she agreed hesitantly as the little floating bots whirred closer. She tried to sit still, but couldn’t help flinching when one of the little things came perilously close to her breast.
Another enterprising little bot began to shine different wavelengths of light at one of the larger stones, eliciting a rainbow of colors that shone throughout the chamber. Everyone was watching with intense interest as she allowed the examination.
From light, the bot progressed to sound, shooting beams of different wavelengths of sound waves at the crystals. The light hadn’t elicited any sort of response, but the sound was starting to tickle, then singe, then burn as the tone increased in pitch. Jana shifted uncomfortably in her chair until the slight burning sensation escalated to outright pain.
Without thought, she moved her hand and swept the small bot away. She hadn’t touched it, but it went flying across the chamber, anyway, narrowly missing one of the Vizier’s heads on its way to smash against the wall. It fell to the floor, broken into several pieces.
Jana was shocked, as were some of the people watching, but others seemed coldly satisfied—as if they expected her to turn violent, and she had only just confirmed their suspicions. Others, she was surprised to see, looked pleased. And Darak, when she finally turned to look at him, wasn’t hiding his anger very well.
She didn’t think the anger was directed at her. Instead, if looks could kill, Vizier Balous would be nothing but a little pile of cinders at her feet.
“I’m sorry.” She spoke into the silence. “I just reacted. I didn’t mean to cause harm. It just—” She broke off, not liking to admit any weakness.
“What,
dama
? Why did you use your power in such a way?”
She hadn’t really realized, until Balous spoke, that she’d used her power at all. But then, how could the bot have flown across the room to shatter against the wall? She hadn’t touched it. No, she must have used her power, without realizing it.
“Again, I apologize for my lack of control. I’ve been counseled not to use my Talent until given leave to do so. I did not do it consciously. My only excuse is that it was instinct to react when the bot’s actions began to get…uncomfortable.” Even now, she didn’t want to admit the bot’s sound waves had been downright painful. She didn’t want to give anyone ideas about weapons that could be used against her.
Strategy, it seemed, was second nature to her now, though the farm girl she had been wouldn’t have hesitated admitting being hurt. Jana, the ship’s captain and armada leader, knew better, though. She didn’t trust these Councilors to not use any perceived weakness against her.
“Have you always had such pinpoint accuracy with your telekinesis?” Balous changed his line of questioning.
“I’m not sure. A lot about my abilities was clouded by the collective’s voice in my mind. Most of my memories of actually using my Talent are fogged over by the presence of the collective. The few times my mind was free, I was usually subdued by a much stronger mind, physical restraints, or both. Usually both. I never had an opportunity to fight back using my Talent during those times. I was cut off from the collective only after I’d already submitted to being restrained.”
It was an unpleasant truth and one that she tried to recite as unemotionally as possible. She tried not to look at the people all around her and their varying expressions of horror, grim resolve or pity. At least these people seemed to think what had been done to her was wrong. That was more than the collective believed. Indeed, they had designed the torture and facilitated it to further their own nefarious goals. The collective was evil, in that regard and many others. The Voice that ruled it was inhumane.
That was a truth Jana had come to accept as she lay recovering from her injuries. The mind healer had helped her see more of that truth. As had Darak and his family.
For all that she was still uncomfortable in the extreme with the sexual morals of the Talents of Geneth Mar, she respected the humanity and compassion of its people. They’d all been gentle with her as she’d been healing. They had helped her. Coddled her, even. That was something she had never had from the collective.
She had not had human kindness since she’d been abducted from her home and forced to serve the collective.
The questioning went on for a little while longer, but eventually, Balous seemed to run out of topics, and she began to feel very tired. Darak made a motion to adjourn, citing her obvious fatigue and the lateness of the hour, and the Councilors agreed.
She noted that they wanted her back the next day—and further reserved the right to call her back at any time for more questions—with a resigned sigh. It would take much for these people to trust her, and frankly, she didn’t blame them. How could they know if she was trustworthy when she didn’t even know her own heart?
CHAPTER SIX
The next day’s questioning was much like the last until the final hours. Balous and another man, who had been introduced only as Specitar Kane, quizzed her about the collective. They wanted to know how it worked. How she perceived it in her mind. How the blue crystal that had been in her control staff and had subsequently blown up in her hands, worked—both before it had shattered, and now that parts of it were imbedded in her skin.
They asked probing questions, and when Balous left the podium for the final hour, allowing Kane to question her alone, they turned brutal. Kane, it seemed, was the real interrogator. He pounded his questions home like nails through her skull, each one more difficult to answer than the last.
He pushed her to her limits and beyond. His merciless questions made her want to lash out, and she felt her power gathering. Only Darak’s worried look made her refrain and seek control.
Perhaps, that was Kane’s task. To test her control.
Deciding that must be the case, she calmed by slow degrees, noting with one part of her mind, how good he was at his job. Remnants of the old, warrior Jana admired his skill.
And then, suddenly, he stopped. And smiled.
“It seems the test is at an end.” He bowed his head, then turned toward the assembled Talents, who had all been watching closely. “She has divined the intent of my work here and further testing will not be productive. However, I can say that when pushed to a level I have seldom used on any other subject, she did not lash out. She sought control rather than violence. She has great mental discipline, which I did not expect.”
Neither had Jana, if she was being honest. Untrained when the collective took her, she didn’t think she really had any skills of her own, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe the control they had taught her as part of the collective was something that stayed with her, even now that she was cut off from them. Maybe it was instinctual. Something that, once learned, could not be unlearned.
“Then, it is time,” Balous said, returning to the podium. “It is with some reluctance that we have reached consensus on this matter, Master Darak.” Darak rose and came over to stand near her as Balous addressed him directly. “We need you and the
Circe
out there, being our eyes and ears, but we have registered your desire not to be parted from Jana Olafsdotter. While we would rather she be tested further, we also recognize the threat she could pose to our planet and people. Perhaps, as you have argued, the safest place for her, at the moment, is in the vastness of space. I fear she may yet pose a danger to you and your crew, but if it is your wish—and if your crew still agrees—then we grant leave for you to depart, with Jana Olafsdotter, as soon as you are ready.”
Jana tried her best not to show her surprise and alarm. Darak was leaving and he wanted her on the ship with him? This was all news to her.
More troubling was the Council’s belief that she could be a danger. Jana knew they were probably right, but it still hurt to have them say it out loud like that. She didn’t want to harm anyone on Geneth Mar. Not anymore. She still didn’t agree with their morals, but she had come to realize they were still just people—raised with different expectations of behavior than she had been—but basically good for all their differences. She didn’t want to see them or their planet come to harm. Especially not because of her.
But she didn’t want to leave Jeri. While it was true that Jeri was busy with her new life and husband, Jana craved any bit of attention her little sister could spare. They’d been parted for so long. Jana had only just rediscovered her family, and now, she was being asked—no,
told
—to leave her again. Jana didn’t like it.
And she especially didn’t like the highhanded way Darak had ordered her life. He’d requested her presence on his ship. He’d petitioned the Council. All this had been done without her knowledge or consent. It was almost as bad as being ordered around by the Voice of the collective. Only now, she was awake and aware of being manipulated. Which made it somehow worse.
“Specitar Agnor will be tasked with testing her further,” Balous continued even as Jana’s mind spun at what she was hearing. “He will also be asked to do what training is necessary to make her safer to be around, as will you, Master Darak, as your other duties allow. She is to be observed, and reports filed on her progress any time you have a secure connection. Under no circumstances is she to be allowed to interfere in the ship’s duties or its crew. How you achieve this is up to your discretion.” Balous’s gaze moved from Darak back to Jana, and she felt the weight of his regard. “Now,
dama
, please try to make the best of this. I know it is not necessarily your will to go on this journey, but we have our reasons for sending you. All of those stated and one other I will put forward, hoping to ease your mind…”
Balous shocked her by coming over to her and taking her hand in his. She felt the vibrations of his sincerity as their resting power met and tingled against each other.
“The gift of foresight is rare, but it does exist. Please believe me when I say that I have foreseen that you must be on the
Circe
at this time. I don’t know what will happen, but I do know it is where you are meant to be. Take what comfort you can from this foreknowledge, if indeed, you can take any.”
He released her hand and walked back to his position behind the podium. Jana was familiar with foresight, though the collective had none. Something about the merging of minds and Talents dampened any such gifts that might have occurred in the population. The Voice scoffed at such things. It had said that the only destiny is the one it forged itself. It paid no heed to prophecy or visions, and the collective followed suit.
Jana didn’t know what to make of Balous’s words. He was a powerful being if he was part of this gathering. The others in the room did not bat an eye at his pronouncement. Apparently, they all believed in his ability to foresee parts of the future. While she wouldn’t put too much stock in such things, she understood at least part of his motivation for deciding her fate in such a cavalier manner. He truly believed she needed to be on that ship, out of harm’s way for the people and planet of Geneth Mar.
Well, if that’s how they felt, so be it. Jana would not stay where she was not wanted. She felt a pang of loss for having to part from Jeri, but now that they’d been reunited, Jana held hope that they would be able to comm each other and perhaps see each other in person from time to time. Those stolen moments would have to do. The Council was giving her precious little choice in the matter.