No Such Thing (3 page)

"Feel like slaughtering my crew?"

"Commander—"

He held up a hand. "I understand. Not having met the crew, you couldn’t really say if you felt homicidal about them yet." There was a
twinkle in his eye.

She stared at him with blank incomprehension.

"So let’s make a deal. You get to know my crew, and if you start wanting to kill somebody, let me know. I suspect your first victim will be the
cook."

She continued to stare at him.

He sighed and rose to his feet again. "We’ll have to work on your sense of humor. Do you feel up to a demonstration of this incredible power of
yours?"

"Of course," she said stiffly, gathering the net in her hands and standing.

"Please," he said with a grim look at the snood in her grip, "leave that here."

She blinked at him and nodded, returning it to the chair. Then she followed him out of his office and through several narrow corridors to a
holo-observation deck. She hesitated on the threshold, a little unnerved by the wide-open space on all sides. She knew it couldn’t be open to vacuum,
that it was just holograph imagery, but it was still not a comfortable first step.

"Unsettling, I know," the commander said with a curl of his mouth. "Even for someone like me who is accustomed to space travel, this much
openness took some getting used to. If it becomes too much, just look down at your feet until that feeling of being sucked out into the dark goes
away."

She made an astonished sound in her throat. Standing on the edge of a room that seemed to gape into blackness felt exactly like that. Gingerly, she stepped
into the wide room. When she wasn’t sucked anywhere, she edged closer to the commander and clasped her hands together at her waist, taking deep,
measured breaths as she had been taught.

"You’re a brave little mims," he murmured almost too low for her to hear.

"I’m your telenetic," she said as serenely as she could. "How can you trust me to do my duty if I’m afraid of something so
simple?"

"Point taken," he said in a bland tone, but she was suspicious of the twitch of his lips. "So, Telenetic Soliere, show me what you can
do."

Ryelle looked out at the vista of space beyond the ship. A planet floated below them, a colonized outpost that had been the designated meeting place for
her transport and the
Odyssey.
It was a ringed planet, which meant there was plenty of floating rock close at hand. She gestured to the rings.
"Do you see the large asteroid with the outcropping that looks like a crooked tower?"

He scanned the rings and then nodded.

"I know you’ve had experience with telenetics before, but bear with me. It’s very large and mass is a factor for a telenetic. A level two
telenetic would be able to slow that asteroid’s trajectory." As she spoke, she exerted a trickle of her ability, slowing the big rock. "A
decent three could alter its course." She did so, drawing it out of the ring and pulling it towards them at a ponderous pace. "A four could
speed it up."

The asteroid increased velocity, and the commander’s eyebrows rose as it closed on their position.

"A five could fracture the rock, possibly breaking off chunks of it." She followed actions with words, halving the asteroid as if she’d
drawn a knife through it. "It’s a very large rock," she said in a hushed tone, as it seemed to fill their entire vision, looming
ominously.

The commander cleared his throat and shifted in place, looking wary now.

"And then there’s what I can do," she whispered, letting her ability unravel from her with a sense of immeasurable relief. Keeping such a
constant, tight control was exhausting to the point of insanity.

The asteroid came to a dead stop, both halves lurching together as if magnetized. Then, with silent violence, it exploded.

The commander gasped and Ryelle smiled grimly. "Not done yet," she murmured, watching the countless pieces spinning away from the point of
explosion. Suddenly, all the pieces reversed course and came crashing back together into a semblance of the asteroid’s former shape. The mass spun
first one way and then another, as if showing off it’s renewed form, before the whole thing shot away from them at an extraordinary speed. A moment
later, it was out of sight.

"Mother of God," the commander whispered.

Ryelle turned to look at him, a dismal ache settling in her chest at the naked shock on his face. Now she would stop being human to him and become some
sort of monster. It was inevitable.

He twitched, still staring into space. "It’s coming back."

"Yes. I didn’t want a rogue asteroid flying around knocking ships out of the sky." Without looking away from the commander’s rigid
features, she settled the rock back into its place in the ring. It was no longer a whole asteroid, but the pieces would still drift along in a normal orbit
with the rest of the ring debris.

"Ryelle," he said with care, still staring at the returned jumble of rock, "that asteroid was nearly as big as this ship."

"I know."

"You—that’s—" His lips continued to move, but no sound came out.

She felt the bitterness in her smile and schooled her expression back to blank serenity. "I know. Like this observatory, I’m going to take some
getting used to."

Chapter 2

Over the course of the next several days, Declan heard rumors of the telenetic as the large ship got underway to the Mirabella system. Some were fanciful
or purely outrageous, and Declan counted himself lucky to have a reliable filter for these rumors in the Chief Engineer. The Chief would roll his eyes and
set Declan straight. In this way, Declan got a pretty good idea of what the girl looked like—his imagination created a fey beauty with flowing locks
of dark hair, skin like moonlight, and large, mysterious dark eyes. That was as far as his fantasies took him, however, because the rest of the rumors were
much less enticing. She was distant with the crew, barely acknowledging their existence. The Chief was more generous of her attitude than other
crewmembers, saying she was just not used to being in close contact with normals.

The one comment that disturbed Declan the most, though, came directly from the Chief. The small man had just returned from the command deck, a frown on his
normally easy-going features. When Declan had asked him what was wrong, the Chief seemed to have trouble putting it into words. "A feeling,"
he’d said. He’d been uneasy by how the commander treated their new telenetic. According to the Chief, Commander Task had always given their
previous telenetics respect, but his deference and careful handling of this girl was out of character.

Declan brooded about it, wondering if the commander had developed an attraction for her. He didn’t want to think it—his respect and admiration
for his superior bordered on hero worship. But though the commander was in his forties and old in Declan’s eyes, he was still a man, presumably
subject to the same desires as other men. The telenetic was underage, but from all accounts she was pretty enough to turn heads, so maybe she’d
turned the commander’s. He didn’t suggest it to either the Chief or Bags. Just the thought felt disloyal. Discussing it with other crew seemed
treasonous.

So days passed and as he’d predicted, he caught not even a glimpse of their newest crewmember. His days were spent in the engineering section, with
occasional forays to different sections of the ship as a handyman. He had an aptitude for all things mechanical, so he was often sought out for fixit
projects. This did not lead him into the officer’s quarters or the command deck, though, and that’s where the telenetic spent most of her time.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, he stopped looking over his shoulder and craning his neck around corners looking for her. She was out of his reach,
literally as well as figuratively. He had to be content hearing about her as if she was some fantastic tale to delight disbelievers.

He was doing just that in the mess hall, slowly eating his lunch while tuning a sharp ear to the next table. Several pilots lounged around a table laden
with half-eaten plates and platters of food, their voices rising above the general din of the mess hall.

"—walked right at me! Looked at me, too, and I swear she smiled."

The woman next to him scoffed and threw a vegetable at him. "Dreamin’ again, were ya?" She turned to the others with a snicker.
"Roddy bastard’s been wet-dreamin’ every night since she boarded."

"Sark off, Keesha. I ain’t lyin’. I was up on five, waiting for the Lt. She turned a corner and—oh, shit, there she is!"

Declan thought the pilot was just elaborating on his story until he noticed the expanding silence. He looked up and saw everyone staring at the entrance.
Shifting in his seat, he glanced over his shoulder and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach.

The telenetic.

She paused at the threshold for a moment, giving the large room and its occupants a measuring glance, before she began to walk across the mess. As she drew
closer, Declan felt the floor follow the path his stomach had taken, dropping out from under his feet. She was stunning in a way he could barely
comprehend. Lovely, yes—the rich, dark chocolate of her hair made a lustrous background for the intricate silver net framing delicate features. The
light seemed to make her creamy skin glow, striking a fantastic contrast with her thick-lashed, black eyes. Her slim form clothed in the long-sleeved, gray
dress moved with such grace that she seemed to glide rather than walk.

But it wasn’t her beauty that made him forget to breathe. He’d seen more classically beautiful women—the pilot Keesha was a good example,
with full lips, sultry eyes, and cheekbones a model would envy. There was just something about the way the telenetic held herself, the way she moved, as
though she was on a different plane of existence, as though she was part of a reality so alien that he could not even imagine it. Her expression was calm
and assured, but the inky darkness of her eyes suggested vast, unexplored regions behind her cool facade. Power moved with her like a thunderous cloud.

As she passed his table, Declan had to fight not to reach out and touch her, to make her real. One pilot at the next table didn’t fight the urge.
Standing, he caught her wrist and tugged her to a halt. "Hey little mims, want comp’ny?"

Declan exploded to his feet, outrage burning past his reticence and easy-going nature. "Gantry, are you nuts?" he snarled. "You
don’t touch a telenetic."

The telenetic turned, facing the man holding her wrist. She said nothing.

Gantry shrugged, grinning down at the young woman. "Why not? It ain’t like she’s…got…" His voice trailed away and his
grin faded as the air hummed with rising electricity.

The telenetic continued to look at the pilot, her expression calm, but her eyes seethed with darkness. Declan gulped when he realized that the hair on his
arms was standing straight up. The stuff on his head was trying to do the same. His skin tingled as though he’d brushed a proton stream and he looked
at the pilot with alarm. Gantry blanched, dropped his grip on her arm, and took a large step backward.

Without a word, she turned and moved away.

Gantry watched her go, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

"You okay, G?" Keesha asked in a loud whisper, edging close to her fellow pilot.

"Damn," the man muttered in a shaky voice. "It was like stickin’ my hand in a jack. Didn’t think they had that much juice in
‘em."

"Sit down and finish lunch ‘fore you get your ass in trouble," Keesha admonished, yanking him back to the table.

Declan sank down into his seat, his legs wobbly. A bone-deep tremor worked its way through his body and he let out a shuddering sigh. She was not what he
had expected. She was—more. So much more. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He searched the room and saw her approach the wall of food
dispensers. She made her slow way down the wall, inspecting the contents, seemingly unaware that she had a large, captive audience. Making a decisive
choice, she removed a bowl and turned from the dispensers without a second glance.

She walked back across the mess and Declan contented himself with just watching her. It was rude to stare, but everyone was. She moved like silk. He
suddenly realized that he didn’t know her first name and this seemed a grievous oversight. He was plotting ways to extract that information from the
Chief when she stopped.

At his table.

Her dark gaze sent a shock clear down to his toes. "May I join you?" she asked.

He gaped at her. No, she couldn’t have asked to sit with him. He must have heard her wrong. He could hardly think with her looking at him.

Her eyebrows lifted. "Mer? May I sit?"

"Sh-sure," he croaked, waving at the seat opposite him and nearly overturning his cup. He made a grab for it and held onto the thing for dear
life, as she set her bowl down and settled into the seat across the table with simple economy.

"Thank you. This dining room is much fuller than the officer’s."

"It’s lunch time," he said inanely, drowning in the infinite darkness of her eyes. He was both relieved and disappointed when she looked
down. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he watched as she uncovered her salad and picked up the fork. When she hesitated, he asked with dismal certainty,
"Is it bad?"

"It’s…unusual," she said in a cautious tone, staring into the bowl with a blank expression. "The greens I recognize,
but—could you tell me what this is?" She speared a thin, dark object and held it up for his inspection.

He grimaced. "I think that’s supposed to be meat."

"Really?" She cocked her head to one side, studying the shriveled substance at the end of her fork. "Hmm. I don’t think I’m
brave enough to find out." With delicate precision, she sorted out the offending bits and piled them on the lid of the bowl.

Declan watched with a sense of dislocation. Was he really sitting across from a telenetic while she picked apart her salad? He took a furtive look around
the room, his neck turning hot as he realized they were the center of attention. Keesha caught his eye and made a gesture that was eloquent in its
incredulous inquiry—
what the hell is she doing at your table?
Declan gave a little, baffled shrug in response.