VII
As soon as they left the briefing room and were going toward one of theintraship shuttles, Medart said, "I'd like to start that other trainingyou mentioned as soon as possible. When can we do it, and is thereanything special you need?"
Once they were inside the shuttle, Corina answered. "We can begin assoon as you like. We need quiet at first, as relaxation will speedyour learning of the basic techniques. Afterward, you will needvolunteers for practice. I do not like the idea of using unTalentedfor that, but I see no choice; I can teach you only so much with myselfas your target. The techniques are not difficult; you should be ableto learn them in an hour or less. It is the practice, for control andpower, which will take most of your training time."
"Right. Emperor Chang, take us to Sherwood Forest, please."
"Yes, Ranger," the ship replied, and the shuttle began moving.
Medart turned back to his assistant. "Since you say relaxation's soimportant, at least for basic training, we're going to what I think isthe most soothing part of the ship. I like trees."
"So do I, but what is Sherwood Forest? I do not remember seeing anytrees when Sunbeam was showing me the ship."
"Not likely you would, with her for a guide," Medart said, grinning."She's a city girl, all the way through. Except for orientation, Idon't think she's ever been there. If she thinks of trees at all, it'sprobably just as potential furniture."
"It seems strange," Corina said, "that you, a Ranger, would take suchan interest in a young ensign."
"Not this one," Medart replied. "It isn't just that she's impossibleto ignore, either. I first heard about her when she was in her thirdyear at the Academy. Her teachers were predicting that she'd end upeither getting herself kicked out of the Navy in disgrace, or as Chiefof Naval Operations, and I'd tend to agree. She doesn't know it, but Iasked to have her assigned to my ship to give her the best chance atthe second; if anyone can keep her on the right heading withoutbreaking her spirit, it's David Hobison." He laughed. "As if justrunning the Chang wasn't enough of a headache for him!"
The shuttle door slid open and they stepped out into a pleasant,open-wooded area which, from all appearances, was on the surface of aplanet rather than inside the hull of a warship. It was impossible,Corina knew, but it certainly looked like the parkland was lit by abrilliant yellow sun, while clouds drifted slowly across a blue sky.Except for the odd sky color, it reminded her, with a sudden pang ofhomesickness, of a small glade she used to visit almost daily. Onlythe fountain was missing.
She managed to bring her voice under control before speaking. "It isbeautiful! But how is it done? And why?"
"It is, isn't it?" Medart agreed. "The sky is simply glowpanels.Clouds are Type II holograms, the sun's a Type IV. If you want thetechnical details, I'll have to refer you to Engineering; it'ssomething I've never had the occasion to go into deeply.
"As for why--Sovereign-class cruisers are the long-tour ones, sometimesstaying away from their home ports for years. Even near a planet, onlya small part of the crew can be allowed shore leave at any one time.If everyone were city-bred, like Sunbeam, that wouldn't be a problem,but most aren't. We had some pretty serious morale problems untilRanger Ellman suggested this idea about five years ago. It's provenquite effective, well worth the investment in power and space. Chang,Lindner, and Yasunon are the only ones with them so far, though. Therest'll get them as soon as they go into Luna Base for a major refit."
They had been walking while he talked, and came to a halt beneath awide-spreading, though not very tall, tree. Corina didn't recognizethe species, but liked its smell.
"Is this all right?" Medart asked.
"Fine," Corina said approvingly. She glanced around, saw severaloff-duty crewmembers strolling around, either singly or in pairs. "Ifyou are certain we will not be disturbed, that is."
"I'm sure," Medart said with a chuckle. He sat cross-legged, his backagainst the treetrunk. Corina also sat, facing him.
"You had best practice defense first," she said. "If you cannotprotect yourself, nothing else I can teach you will be of any use."
Medart nodded, and she tried a gentle probe. *You are wide open,Ranger,* she told him. *You will have to bring your shield undervoluntary control. An automatic shield is adequate under mostcircumstances; if you intend to attempt stopping Thark as you said atthe conference, it is not.*
*I understand that, but how?*
*If you can remember the way you felt, your mind pattern when we workedthis morning--* She caught a sudden picture of herself holding thesheathed blade at DarLeras' throat, then nothing. "Very good, you haveit. Now down again."
Seconds passed, then, *How's that?*
*Excellent,* she complimented him. *You learn quickly. Now I musttest you, to find your shield's present strength. Prepare yourself.*
*Right.* Medart's shield went back up, and Corina began probing,gradually increasing the strength and intensity of her attack while theRanger fought to hold his shield. His eyes closed, his fists clenchedwith his effort. He was starting to break out in a sweat when Corinafelt the shield waver and instantly released her pressure.
"Are you all right, Ranger?"
"I think so," Medart said, shaking his head experimentally. "That was. . . it was like nothing I've ever felt, ever even imagined." He tookseveral deep breaths, relaxing, then asked, "Just how much force wereyou using?"
"About half my maximum."
"How's that compare to Thark?"
"That is difficult to say." Corina's ears went back slowly, athoughtful frown. "I would estimate he has half again my strength, sothat would be perhaps a third of his maximum."
The Ranger looked grim. "One chance in five? Looks to me more likeone in fifty."
"You forget he trained me. I know his patterns, can anticipate how andwhere he is most likely to strike me, and strengthen my shieldaccordingly. There is the added factor that this practice will benefitme almost as much as it will you. My estimate remains one in five."
"You know more about it than I do." Despite his words, Medart wasdoubtful. "Do we try that again, or what?"
"That would be unwise now; it is more of a strain than you realize. Nomore than two, or at most three brief sessions like that per day, untilyou gain strength. It would be as well to begin teaching you to usedarlas, however. It means going much faster than is usual for thistype of training, but our time is limited."
"It is that," Medart agreed. "How do I go about darlas?"
"It is similar to telepathy, which you already know, but is projecteddirectly rather than through the TP center, and is much more powerful.You must try to force a feeling of pressure, of constriction, on youropponent."
She raised her shield, holding it at half strength so she could feelany success he might have. "All right, go ahead."
She waited patiently, but felt nothing, so she lowered her shieldslightly. Still nothing. She dropped it even further, finally managedto detect an extremely faint, almost nonexistent, touch.
Even that faded, and Medart looked at her with a frown. "That didn'tseem to be working too well, did it? What am I doing wrong?"
"It was indeed weak," Corina admitted, "but with my shield at minimum Iwas able to detect something. Each individual is different, even amongIrschchans, and though it is far clearer than most, your patternremains human. You will simply have to keep trying until you find whatworks for you. The potential is there."
"Okay, let's try it again." Medart closed his eyes, and Corina set hershield at about a third of its full strength.
After perhaps a minute, she felt a faint tingle. It got stronger for amoment, peaking at what felt like a gentle nudge before fading again.She studied the Ranger's expression of concentration, and decided tokeep her shield up at the same intensity. She would give him anotherfive minutes; that should not strain him unduly, and then she would endthe session.
* * * * *
The next
thing she knew, she was flat on her back in the grass, lookingup at Medart's worried face. "Are you all right, Sir Corina?" hedemanded.
She struggled to sit up, dazed, and felt him supporting her.
"Are you all right?" he asked again.
She took a quick self-inventory, decided she was well if uncomfortable,and reassured him. "I am unharmed, though I will have a headache forsome time. What did you do?"
He hesitated for a moment, looking her over carefully. "I'm notcertain. Nothing seemed to be working, so I tried picturing a giantanaconda--that's a Terran snake--wrapped around you, contracting. Ifinally got it good and clear, and you collapsed. Are you sure you'reall right?"
Corina growled softly, disgusted at herself. "Blades! I should havethought of that. Unless you concentrate on words, I keep gettingpictures from you. I should have realized your primary orientation wasvisual, and guided you--"
"Oh, no, you don't," Medart interrupted. "If there's any chewing outto be done around here, I'll take care of it. You said it yourself:everyone's different, and you're not that familiar with human patterns.And you've never taught before. You can't be expected to anticipateeverything at once."
He gave her a quizzical look that reminded her of their first meeting."I hadn't realized how different in some ways, and how similar inothers, Irschchans and humans are until your shield fell. I seemed toalmost be you for a couple of seconds, just before you blacked out. Iglimpsed a lot of things, but I couldn't understand more than half ofthem."
Corina was sitting unsupported now, with Medart squatting on his heelsfacing her. She stared at him, then started searching intensivelythrough her memories of the last few minutes. Her shield was stilldown, and Medart followed her thoughts with no difficulty.
*Eyes closed . . . five minutes, then . . . picture . . . What's he--*Then an image of herself tangled in an exaggeration of Medart'svisualization, a confused jumble that reminded the Ranger ofmulti-colored spaghetti. She started probing at it, using his actualvisualization to guide her as she finally tugged at what appeared to bea key strand. That made the `spaghetti' disappear, releasing a floodof concept/imagery/experience into her mind, understandable only infragments that seemed to flow past and through her.
"Pattern rapport," she breathed in wonder.
"Right, I got that much," Medart said. "But what is it? I'm not sureI understand anything about it but its name."
"It is an extremely unusual stress phenomenon," Corina said, pickingher words with care. "It occurs when two very similar mind patternsare in close physical proximity and under considerable stress.Something--the Order is not sure what, but the most respected theory isboth underminds acting as one--apparently `decides' to relieve thestress by combining whatever memories can be used to accomplish thatpurpose."
"But aren't human and Irschchan patterns too different for that tohappen?" Medart objected. "That's what you seemed to think earlier, atleast."
"I believed so, yes," Corina said slowly. "Yet the Order's millenniaof experience cannot be totally wrong. It had to be pattern rapport."
"Then either human and Irschchan patterns are closer than anyone's eversuspected . . ."
"Or it is our own two basic patterns which are in phase."
"Uh-huh, that could-- Hey! Remember, I told you I had more troublereading Sunbeam than I did reading you?"
"That must be the case, then, but I would like to know--" Corina cutthat thought off before it could go somewhere she didn't want tofollow.
Medart, though he wasn't about to broadcast it, had a pretty good ideawhat the pattern rapport might mean. He wasn't at all familiar yetwith Talent, granted, but he did know what his problem was. Apparentlyso did what she called her undermind, and it agreed with him. "I'dsuggest a hearty meal and a good night's sleep," he said. "That was ashock to both of us, and we'll solve our problems better in themorning, when we've rested and steadied down."
Corina nodded agreement. "That sounds most reasonable. We do bothneed time to integrate the . . . new experiences. I would say you inparticular; I at least knew of the possibility, though I never thoughtit would happen to me."
Medart chuckled. "Don't be too sure who needs it more. I've beenthrough something similar--you studied the Sandeman Annexation, ofcourse."
"Of course," Corina agreed, puzzled.
"I needed to learn as much as I could about them, as quickly aspossible, and Gaelan DarShona, who had sworn personal fealty to BaronKlaes, agreed to a mind-probe. You know about those?"
"I have heard of them," Corina said. "An artificial form of telepathythe Order considers repugnant."
"Close enough. At any rate, I had Gaelan given a deep, full-experienceprobe, with myself hooked up as the receiver. So I've already `been'one other person. You haven't."
"That may indeed make a difference," Corina agreed. "I wonder if Iwill experience that part, or if it was bypassed as unnecessary."
"I imagine you'll find out. If you do, I'm sure you'll find it bothinteresting and different. For now, though, let's go eat."
Corina followed him to the shuttle, conscientiously trying not to thinkabout the rapport, but with only moderate success. It was less thecontents of the transfer that concerned her, than the reason for it.Her undermind must be trying to tell her something, but what? And. . . did she really want to know?
The shuttle, at Medart's instructions, took them to Mess Three. "WithSunbeam assigned to you, she's probably staying on the day-shiftschedule, so she'd be going to eat about now. She should be able tokeep our minds off anything too serious, as long as we don't starttalking shop."
"Do you eat there often?" Corina asked, glad of the change of subject.
"Fairly often," Medart replied. "I like the relaxed atmosphere, evenif it is a bit on the noisy side occasionally. It was stiff the firstfew times, right after I took over Chang, until they adapted. Itwouldn't be quite acceptable for me to join in the horseplay, butnobody minds as long as I just watch and listen."
Sunbeam was indeed in the mess, standing at the row of autochefs withMajor Dawson. Medart and Corina got in line behind them and, whenSunbeam turned around, were invited to join the pair. They agreed; itwas, after all, what they had hoped for. Corina decided on hellbeaststeak again; it was becoming one of her staples, since Sunbeam hadintroduced her to it. Besides that, she ordered two things she hadn'tyet tried--a taco and tapioca pudding--and her usual milk.
Medart looked at her tray. "That's quite an assortment you've gotthere. What're you trying to do, sample everything on board?"
"Not quite, though I am trying a number of things. It appears I willbe aboard for some time, and I prefer variety. The tastes are strange,but some are quite good."
They were carrying their orders to the table when Medart noticedsomething seemed to be missing. "No coffee?"
Corina shook her head. "No. I cannot understand how you can drinksomething so corrosive, much less appear to enjoy it."
"It's an acquired taste," the Ranger agreed. They sat down as hecontinued, "But the Navy seems to run on it, and I'll admit to drinkingmore than I should."
"Drink what?" Sunbeam asked, having missed the first part of theconversation.
"Coffee," Medart replied. "Sir Corina thinks we're crazy to drink it."
Sunbeam giggled. "If she thinks coffee's bad, she should try tea!"
"I did!" Corina said emphatically, trying to imitate Sunbeam's gaiety."The things you humans ingest and claim to enjoy, it is a wonder thatyou survive at all."
"It's not that bad," Sunbeam said, still amazing Corina with herability to eat and talk simultaneously--and neatly. "You rememberMajor Dawson, don't you, Sir Corina? His name's Pat; we got to talkingwhile you were hassling with Colonel Greggson. He's going to coach mein unarmed combat--he's the ship's men's champion, since LieutenantDarLeras says it wouldn't be proper for him to compete withnon-warriors--and he thinks I may have a chance at the women'schampionship next month."
; "You must be quite good, then," Corina said.
"What hassle with Greggson?" Medart demanded.
"It was nothing serious," Corina said, and summarized the incident forhim. "I was nervous, but not badly upset."
"That's good," Medart said, then continued silently. *Maybe it doesn'tbother you, but it does me. I'll let it go for now, since HisMajesty's already warned him and I have a feeling we may need hisshield, but if he tries anything else, I want to know about it rightaway.*
Corina was impressed by his seriousness. *Yes, Ranger.*
The spoken conversation continued on a light tone, with Sunbeam asusual carrying most of it. Corina was almost silent, content merely toabsorb the alien atmosphere and continue accustoming herself to it.She felt occasional twinges of familiarity which she knew must comefrom the Medart-pattern that was becoming a part of her mind. Most ofthe integration, of course, would be done by her undermind while sheslept that night--but she could feel it beginning already.
* * * * *
As she had known it would be, Corina's sleep that night was restless,disturbed by her undermind's attempt to fit those alien memories into apattern that would allow her to grasp and use them. She might neverfully understand them, but when the process was complete, she wouldhave more feeling for humans than was possible for an Irschchan whohadn't experienced pattern rapport with one.
The integration process worked mostly in the form of dreams, somefragmentary, some less so. She/Jim was laying in a bed with bars, ahuge pink face framed in white looking down at her/him and radiating afeeling of peace.
Then Corina-as-Jim was sitting beside a wicker basket, stroking aSiamese cat who was giving birth to her first litter of kittens andwouldn't let him leave. There were three already, tiny white-furredthings blindly nursing. The mother stared up at him, butting his handwith her head, and purred as only a Siamese could, seeming to be proudof her accomplishment.
A nude swim in a warm blue sea--the memory a pleasant one for thehuman, but one that made Corina's sleeping body tremble with distaste.
But it was Jim's invitation to the Rangers that claimed most of herattention, from Perry appearing in his room after the Test Week resultswere posted, through his first meeting with the Emperor soon after--ithad been Yasunon then, not Davis, who was still Crown Prince--to hisbrief visit home before starting his new duties.
For details of Medart's invitation, see SELECT
Working with other Rangers, then alone: the massive flood that almostwiped out the Yonar colony, and proved to be sabotage. Taking over theChang when Rick was elected Successor, and renewing his acquaintancewith Dave when Captain Hobison took command. The Ondrian affair, withhis new friend Star-flower playing a large part, and a wry thought thathe kept getting involved with cats in one form or another.
The crisis in Sector Five when Sandeman erupted, conquering half thatSector before its Duke realized she couldn't handle them and called forImperial help. The mind-probe of Gaelan, giving her a new insight intothe small warriors, and added respect for their integrity and ability.Glimpses of many planets, from space and surface. That one spotting ofa huge white ship that disappeared into hyperspace and couldn't betraced.
The memory of his sorrow at Yasunon's death was enough to make Corinatoss restlessly in bed. She seemed to see the funeral from twoviewpoints at once: her own, the film in history class, and Jim's beingthere. Then came the Conclave that elected Forrest as Crown Princewhen Davis became Emperor.
Then war struck. Fragmentary memories of battle flickered by, thencame a chance to capture a Traiti ship. Ray Kennard had come up withan idea that might keep imprisoned Traiti alive, at least long enoughto be questioned before they succumbed to the prisoner psychosis thatso inevitably killed the ones who could be kept from suicide.
He'd gone with the boarding party despite Hobison's objections. He'dseen his first live Traiti then, with its leathery gray skin andsharklike face. Not attractive at all to Medart's way of thinking--then--but the big male was hurt and in obvious pain; he'd knelt,intending to help, only to be torn almost in two by the Traiti's clawsand teeth.
And, he found out when he was allowed to regain consciousness afterthat week of immersion in rapid-heal, it had been for nothing. The twoprisoners the boarding party did manage to take had lived to reachTerra before the psychosis set in, no longer.
It was a memory that reeked of failure and self-accusation. Heshould've expected that trick; although it wasn't common, it was known.His carelessness and stupidity could have cost them the ship, cost theEmpire a Ranger it could ill afford to lose, wasted even more lives.
Corina shifted, unable to accept that even in a dream. He was aRanger, he had been doing the only thing honor would allow . . .
Then came the interrupted recovery leave on Irschcha, and his meetingwith the young Losinj. In Medart's memory, Corina watched herselfdefeat the Marines, studied her own records, discussed them with theEmperor. Again came the invitation to join the Rangers, but from hisside this time, and the intensity of his emotion was enough to bringher awake shivering.
She rose and automatically went through her morning routine, then wentto the service panel and got a glass of milk. She sat at the desk,then, taking occasional sips and thinking. Did she still have achoice, or did the Empire's need of her make this a matter of honor?Jim--no, Ranger Medart, though it was now difficult to think of himthat way--would, she knew, leave that question to her. And she wasterribly afraid she knew how she would eventually have to answer.