Dream Called Time (29 page)

“We won’t be drifting,” I assured her. “The Jxin are not the only species who will ever discover or take a shot at ascension. Not now that their DNA is a part of every intelligent race in existence.”

Shon seemed surprised. “So you believe our mission should be to suppress such evolution?”

“We could stop them, but I think we can accomplish more by guiding them,” I replied. “We watch, we check, and when someone goes astray, we help them find their way back to sanity. We’ve got the rest of eternity. It’ll probably take that long.”

The Tingalean’s eyes gleamed. “And if they choose to ignore our guidance?”

Reever answered him. “Then we stop them by any means necessary.”

We all agreed to meet in a few days to solidify our plans and make arrangements to discreetly sojourn together to oKia. Then everyone left except Shon, who stayed behind to discuss the current status of several troublesome races, including the Toskald, who had abandoned their homeworld but had chosen ship life over settlement, and were now existing as pirates on the fringe of colonized space.

After figuring out how to work the prep unit, which was stocked with a bewildering variety of Jorenian and offworlder dishes, I prepared a meal for the men and then excused myself.

“Where are you going?” Reever wanted to know.

“I thought I’d take a walk and check out the settlement.” I bent down and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Beyond the settlement, Joren’s moons arced above the horizon, a floating giant’s neck ornament of light and dark pearls. The moonslight glided along the streets with me, illuminating the faces of the settlers and merchants I passed. Most were happy, some appeared preoccupied, and a few scowled at everyone and everything in their path.

I saw so many odd pairings and groups it was difficult not to gape. A pair of Hsktskt and Jorenian males stood by a screen display of the latest agri equipment and gestured while they discussed seasonal planting. Warriors turned farmers.

A trio of young Terran girls giggled as they glanced back at three boys trailing after them: one lean, tough Omorr, one healthy-looking Taercal, and a sound-shielded P’Kotman. All the adolescents alternated between whispering to their friends and casting flirtatious looks at the other group. Young courtship, it seemed, would never change.

Time had crossed more than a few barriers, I thought as I saw aquatics socializing with desert dwellers, and avatars mixing with miners. I stopped counting the Jorenian and offworlder crossbreeds I spotted; they were everywhere. Although Shon had told us there were still disputes and skirmishes between some species, it seemed intelligent life had decided to be more intelligent.

Balance, it was a beautiful thing.

I didn’t know where I was going, but something guided me through the settlement. It had begun tugging at me as soon as we came down the hill, and now it wrapped around me and through me like a suture, closing up a wound I couldn’t see or feel. If Maggie had still existed, I would have blamed her for it. But this was something far more primal, and it was coming from inside me and beyond me at the same time.

I found myself standing in front of a multilevel gallery designed completely out of plas. The lighting had been dimmed for the night, but inside I could still see a series of sculptures. They were all hewn from green, blue, and violet stone, and depicted figures from Jorenian history. Tarek Varena I recognized from the features, not the pose; he was sculpted alongside a lovely and very pregnant female. While I was glad to see that Tarek’s sad fate had somehow been averted, the loss of my own friends and loved ones cut into me like a cold blade.

“Your pardon, lady.”

I turned to discover Darea Torin standing just behind me. Just before I spoke, I remembered that in this timeline she had no memory of our friendship or kinship. “Can I help you?”

“My bondmate and I saw you from the café across the street.” She glanced back over her shoulder at a dining establishment. “Would your name be Cherijo?”

“It is.” I saw no reason to deny it. “How did you know?”

“Actually, I did not.” She made a confused gesture. “I know it is impolite to delay you, but would you come with me for a moment? There is someone who wishes very much to speak with you. Her name is Salea.”

I couldn’t see whom she was talking about, but guessed it was another immortal healer who had recognized me. “Of course.”

I followed her across the street and into the café, which was crowded and noisy. We wove our way through to a section where it appeared a celebration was being held. Then I saw the small, smiling face of the child dashing toward me, and the astonishment drove me to my knees.

I looked at the door panel for the hundredth time. If my ClanBrother and that damn Omorr didn’t show up soon, I was going to go hunt them down myself.

“One of the pilots told me we’re going to the Liacos Quadrant.”

Hawk was talking to me again. “That’s right.”

“My father’s homeworld lies along our route there. Would it be possible, I mean—”

“Can we make a stop? Of course.” Reever came over, and I automatically blocked my thoughts. I patted Hawk’s arm. “You’re among my friends now. I hope you’ll give them a chance to be your friends, too.” I smiled at Alunthri. “They’ve enriched my life quite a bit.”

“Cherijo, may I have a moment?”

I excused myself, then went with Reever to another unoccupied corner. As I looked back, Hawk began having a conversation with Alunthri, and two fascinated Jorenians who had approached them in my wake.

“I think we have another potential member for HouseClan Torin.” I looked back at Reever. “What’s up?”

“Why are you so agitated?”

“I’m just, uh, excited to be back where I belong.”

“If that’s so, why are you blocking your thoughts from me?”

“Because I’m thinking about killing two crew members with my bare hands.”

Duncan turned to the viewport and made a frustrated sound. “I could understand why you were blocking your thoughts on Terra. But we are among friends now, Cherijo. It isn’t necessary.”

Maybe it was time I went to find Xonea and Squilyp. “Stay here and I’ll—”

The crowd between us and the corridor door panel suddenly parted, forming a wide gap between them. I saw why, and froze.

Xonea was standing at the other end of the gap. In his huge arms he was holding a yawning, blond-haired toddler.

There she was.

“I know you think my telepathic abilities are an intrusion, but if you would only consider how they deepen our intimacy—”

She was a tiny thing. Of course, the Jorenians made everyone look dinky. Her hair was so blond it was almost white, dead straight, and nearly touched her shoulders. Her features were rosy and yet not baby-pretty. No, she looked like a miniature adult.

“Uh, Duncan?” I blindly swatted at him, unable to take my own eyes away. “Turn around.”

Xonea started walking toward us. The sleepy child rested her cheek against the wide vault of his chest, making her look even smaller. Given her rapid gestation, the six months I’d spent in sleep suspension on the League ship, plus the time on Terra, she would be about a year old now.

Reever took me by the arm. “I love you, Cherijo. I don’t want there to be any more walls between us. Let me in.”

“I will, in a minute. Would you please turn around?”

“Even now you are distracted. Has someone—”

I grabbed his arms and shoved him around. He went very still. “Xonea.”

The child Darea had called Salea stopped short, and her expression turned grave. “It is you, isn’t it? I still remember.”

I could manage only a slow nod, fast tears, and open arms. Then I was holding her, and laughing, and crying, and saying her name.

“Everything changed when you and Daddy went away,” she whispered. “Everything except me. I had to pretend it was okay until I could find you again. Did Daddy come back, too?”

“Yes, honey. He’s at the pavilion now, with Healer Valtas.” I couldn’t quite catch my breath. “Are you all right?”

Her curls bobbed as she nodded. “It didn’t hurt me, but no one remembered who I was after the last big ripple. When they asked about you and Daddy, I told them I was lost from you and I hit my head, so I couldn’t remember our names.” She wrinkled her nose. “They gave me a new one.”

“Salea?” Darea sounded worried. “Do you know this lady?”

“Yes, ClanAunt.” My daughter looked up with shining eyes. “This is my mother. Her name is Cherijo.”

The Torins swarmed around us, but I knew I had to take her back to the pavilion, back to Duncan so he would know. But as I stood, I looked across the broad shoulders and past the concerned blue faces, and saw my husband walking toward us.

“Cherijo.” He glanced down and then froze as he saw Marel.

“It’s me, Daddy.” Our daughter reached up, and he lifted her into his arms. “I’m still here. I’m still me.”

He kissed her brow and tucked her head under his chin, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his lashes were wet, but his expression was filled with astonishment and joy. And then I knew no matter what happened now or in the future, or even when time came to an end, I would be safe. In that moment I had been given all I could ever want, all I would ever need. Eternal life might be a gift or a curse, but it would never touch the truth of what I knew now.

Love is the only thing that lives forever.