Jackman waited just outside the door to Coransee’s private quarters. He was a tall, bony man with straw-colored hair and mental strength so slight that he could easily have been a teacher at the school. Teachers, even more than muteherds, dealt with mentally defenseless people, and were required to be relatively harmless themselves. Jackman was harmless enough. He could not quite hide his shock when he met Teray and, through the Pattern, recognized Teray’s greater strength.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered. “If you’re not even-tempered, you’re going to kill every mute in the House.”
At that moment Teray was feeling far less than even-tempered, but he realized that Jackman was right. He pushed aside his anger at Coransee and followed Jackman up to the fourth-floor mute quarters, where his new room would be.
A pair of mutes were already moving Jackman’s things out. One of them, the woman, was weeping silently as she worked. Teray looked at her, then looked at Jackman.
“I’m taking her with me, if you don’t mind,” Jackman said.
“Your business,” said Teray.
“And yours.” There was a note of disapproval in Jackman’s voice. “Every mute in the House is your business now.”
It was not a responsibility Teray wanted to think about. “You care about the mutes, don’t you?” he asked Jackman. “I mean really care. It wasn’t just a job to you.”
“I care. Right now I’m downright worried about them. I’m afraid you’re going to wind up killing some of them out of sheer ignorance before you find out how to handle them.”
“Frankly, so am I.” Teray was getting an idea.
Jackman frowned. “Look, they’re people, man. Powerless and without mental voices, but still people. So for God’s sake try to be careful. To me, killing one of them is worse than killing one of us, because they can’t do a damn thing to defend themselves.”
“Will you show me what you know about them—how you handled them?”
Jackman’s expression became suspicious. “I’ll teach you what I can, sure.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“I didn’t think it was. What the hell gives you the idea you’re entitled to anything more?”
“I’m not entitled. I just thought you might be willing to do the one thing you could do to safeguard your mutes.”
“Your mutes! My mental privacy doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with it. Nobody but Coransee can make me do what you’re asking.”
“And I wouldn’t ask it if other people’s lives weren’t involved. But I honestly don’t want to kill any of these mutes. And without your help, I will.”
“You’re asking for my memories,” said Jackman. “And you know as well as I do that you’re going to wind up with a lot more than just my memories of muteherding.”
“There’s no other method of teaching that’s fast enough to keep me from doing some damage.”
“Nosing into my life isn’t teaching.”
Teray sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. He had thought it would be easy, that a man so clearly attached to the mutes would be willing to sacrifice a little of his mental privacy for their good. He glanced at the two mutes still in the room. “You two leave us alone for a few minutes.”
Irritatingly, the mutes looked at Jackman and received his nod before they obeyed.
“Don’t hold it against them,” Jackman said when they were gone. “They’ve looked to me for orders for five years. It’s habit.”
“Jackman, open to me voluntarily. I don’t want to have to force you.”
“You’ve got no right!” He tried to reach out to alert Coransee, but to do that he had to open his already-inadequate shield. Instantly, Teray was through the shield. He held Jackman trapped, isolated from contact with the rest of the House. He had the foolish urge to apologize to Jackman for what he was doing as he tapped and absorbed the man’s memories of the previous five years. He wasn’t doing to Jackman quite what Coransee wanted to do to him, but he was invading Jackman’s mental privacy. He was throwing his weight around, acting like a lesser version of the Housemaster. And he wasn’t even doing it solely for the good of the mutes. They were important, of course, but Teray was also avoiding a promised beating and a cattleherding assignment. Things were bad enough.
When Teray let Jackman go, he knew everything the older man did about keeping mutes. He also knew Jackman with great thoroughness. For instance, he knew what the muteherd was afraid of, knew what he could do to help him, and perhaps to some degree, make up for invading his privacy.
“Jackman,” he said, “I’m Coransee’s brother—full brother. I might be second to him in strength here, but I don’t think I’m second to anyone else. Now I know you’re worried about having a rough time when you move to the third floor, and you’re right to be. You’re almost as weak as one of your mutes, and you’re going to be everyone’s pawn. If you want to, you can keep a link with me. After a couple of people try me out, no one will bother either of us.”
“After what you just did, you think I’d hide behind you?”
Teray said nothing. He knew the man well enough now to realize that he had already said enough.
“You’re trying to bribe me to keep my mouth shut about what you did,” said Jackman. “Coransee’d make you think you were being skinned alive if I went to him.”
This was a bluff. Teray knew from Jackman’s own mind that Coransee generally let his outsiders find their own level within his House. He was not especially concerned about the strong bullying the weak, as long as the weak were not left with serious injuries—and as long as both strong and weak obeyed him when he spoke. Teray watched Jackman calmly.
Jackman glared back at him, livid with rage. Then, slowly, the rage dissolved into weary submission. “If there was any way for me to kill you, boy, I’d do it gladly. And slowly.”
“I’ve linked us,” said Teray. “If you get into trouble, I’ll know. If I find that you caused the trouble to make trouble for me, I’ll let you be torn apart. But if you didn’t cause it, and you want my help, I’ll help you. Nothing else. The link isn’t a control or a snoop. Just an alarm.”
“Like the kind some Patternist mothers keep on their kids to be sure the kids are okay, right?”
Teray winced. He would never have said such a thing. Why did Jackman go out of his way to humiliate himself?
“May as well call a thing what it is,” said Jackman.
“The minute you decide you don’t want the link, you can dissolve it. Right now if you like.” Teray kept his attention on the link, making certain that Jackman was aware of it and that he saw that it was under his control, that he could indeed destroy it.
But Jackman made no move to destroy the link. He gave Teray an unreadable look. “You’re not really doing this to bribe me to be quiet, are you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Teray.
Jackman grinned unpleasantly “You’re doing it to soothe your conscience, aren’t you? Doing it to blot out the ‘bad thing’ you did before. You never really left the goddamn school, did you, kid?”
Teray struck Jackman in the carefully restrained way he had just learned to strike a mute. He hit Jackman a little harder than he would have hit a mute, because the muteherd did have some defenses to get through. But on a physical parallel it was too much like slapping a child.
Jackman reeled back against the wall as though he had been hit physically. For a moment he stood still, bent slightly from the waist, his head down, cursing.
Teray reached out to find the two mutes. He located them easily, knowing their minds from Jackman’s memories. With careful gentleness, he called them back into the room to finish moving Jackman’s things. He used exactly the same amount of power that Jackman would have used. The most important thing he had gotten from Jackman was a thorough knowledge of how much mental force mutes could tolerate without harm.
Jackman straightened the moment the two mutes came in. They looked at him curiously, men gathered up
armloads of clothing and other possessions.
Jackman spoke to Teray once more as he and the mutes were leaving the room. “Conscience or not,” he said quietly, “you’re his brother all right.” And strangely, it seemed that he said it with admiration.
Chapter Three
TERAY SEARCHED FOR IRAY using only his eyes. Had he used his mind, he could have found her in a moment. But he was not in that much of a hurry. He searched for her not knowing what he would say to her when he found her. Was it only the night before that he had promised her he would accept any chance he could get for freedom?
The thought reminded him painfully of Joachim.
He stopped, suddenly recalling Joachim’s intention to spend the night at Coransee’s house. Had he done it? Was he still there?
Teray reached out, swept his perception through the House, and found Joachim as quickly and easily as he could have found Iray. The Housemaster had a guest room in Coransee’s quarters. And now that Teray had found him, he wondered whether he really wanted to see him. Why should he want to see him? Did he need advice from Joachim? Hadn’t Joachim already told him that in a few years he too would view Coransee’s mental controls as a small price to pay for freedom? For limited freedom. For the illusion of freedom.
But Teray was to have only one year, or less, to make that decision—if he made it at all.
Breaking away from his thoughts angrily, Teray reached out again and located Iray. She was in the courtyard, a large garden area three-quarters surrounded by the walls of the House.
He went to her and found her sitting alone on one of the concrete benches placed at intervals around the rectangular pathway. Teray stood still for a moment, looking around the garden. There was a fountain at its center, pleasantly breaking the morning quiet with the sound of falling water.
There were paths leading to the fountain and flowers between the paths. Outside the rectangle of the main path there were shrubs, some of them flowering, and trees. All this, Teray realized, was tended by his mutes. Thank heaven they already knew their work. Teray knew almost nothing about gardening—nor had Jackman known, Teray realized, examining the memories he had taken from the man. Jackman had never bothered to learn. He had simply let the mutes go on tending the garden as they had before he took charge of them.
Teray realized that he was still putting off speaking to Iray.
He went over and sat down beside her, felt her expectant waiting.
“I’ve failed you,” he said quietly. “Again. I couldn’t pay the price Coransee asked.”
She was abruptly closed to him, shut behind a full shield, alone with herself. Physically, her reaction was mild. She sighed, and looked down at the hard-packed sandy reddish soil of the pathway. “Tell me what happened. Tell me all of it.”
He told her. She had a right to know. And knowing, she had a right to hate him. He had sacrificed her freedom as well as his own. As he had trusted Joachim, she had trusted him. She was beautiful and strong in her own right. Not strong enough to establish a House of her own, but strong enough to make a secure place for herself in any existing House she chose. Other men had wanted her—established Housemasters. She had turned them down to stay with Teray. And now …
Teray finished his story, and drew a deep breath.
She turned and looked at him—looked at him for a long time. He grew uncomfortable under her gaze but he could think of nothing more to say.
“Are you going to let him kill you?”
Her words seemed to bring him to life. “Of course not! I wouldn’t let anyone kill me!”
“What are you going to do?”
“Fight … again. If it comes to that. I’m not going to waste the time he’s given me. I’m going to learn whatever I can. Maybe learn enough to …” He could not finish the sentence, the lie. No outsider would be watched more closely than he. No one would be more shielded from knowledge that might help him win his freedom. Yet he could not accept the final defeat. He could not do what Joachim had done.
Iray laid a hand on his shoulder, then raised it to his face. “I’m not going to change my name,” she said.
He set his teeth, not wanting to say what he knew he had to say. “You’re going to do whatever is necessary. You have to make a place for yourself here.”
“Teray …”
“I can’t protect you. You … aren’t my wife anymore. Perhaps you will be again. I’ll fight for that. If I break free, I won’t leave you here. But for now … we both know what you have to do.”
“I’d like to help you kill him!”
“You know better. You hate him for what he’s done to me! You can’t afford to do that. Think of yourself. You’re beautiful, and strong enough to rise high in any House. Please him, Iray. Please him!”
She sat silent, staring at the ground. After a while she got up and went back into the House.
The House mutes knew their jobs. They were well programmed and hardly needed Teray to direct them. For days he simply moved among them, permitting them to get used to him. It annoyed him to realize that they missed Jackman. They did not dislike Teray. Their programming did not permit them to dislike any Patternist. They simply preferred Jackman, whom they knew—and who had treated them kindly. Teray did not treat them in any way at all.
He could not focus his thoughts on them, could not really make himself care about them. His own problems held his attention, weighed on him. And it did not help him to see Coransee and Iray together around the House. Coransee had moved quickly. Sometimes in the morning Teray would see them coming out of Coransee’s quarters together and going out on some business of Coransee’s. Several of Coransee’s wives had begun to look at Iray with open jealousy. Clearly, she was becoming one of Coransee’s favorites. And how did she feel about that?
She seemed subdued at first. Quiet, withdrawn, resisting emotionally what she could not resist physically. She was no actress. She had never been able to hide her feelings from Teray. Even when she closed her mind to him, her face and her mannerisms betrayed her. Teray watched her, concerned that she would anger Coransee with her stubbornness; though Teray took secret pride in that stubbornness. Then Iray began to smile, and Teray watched her with another kind of concern. Was she finally learning to act, or was her stubbornness beginning to melt?
Coransee was a handsome, powerful man. He could be charming. Several of his wives made no secret of the fact that they were in love with him. And Iray was young—just out of school. It was one thing for her to resist the attentions of wealthy lords who came to the school, where they would flaunt little of their wealth or power before her. Where they were just other men. But here on Coransee’s vast estate … How much difference did it make?
Teray watched, sickened by the way Iray was beginning to look at Coransee. And Iray would no longer meet Teray’s eyes at all.
And time was passing. And Teray was learning nothing, as he had feared. And Joachim, who had submitted, was at his home with his outsiders and wives and mutes—with the wealth and power that he controlled at least when Coransee left him alone.
Teray was solitary and morose. His mutes feared him. They knew, as he did, that it would be nothing new for an angry Patternist to take out his frustrations on the nearest mute. Of course, abusing mutes was illegal, was punished painfully when it was discovered. But the muteherd, guardian as well as supervisor of the mutes, could make certain that his violence went undiscovered. Years before, Rayal had swept the sectors regularly, seeking out and punishing instances of mute abuse and other lawbreaking. But there had been no such sweeps for some time. Rayal did nothing now except keep himself alive and in power. Thus, the mutes of Coransee’s House watched Teray warily and leaped to obey when he spoke. It would never have occurred to him to abuse a person as helpless as a mute. Yet he could not summon the initiative to reassure them, ease their fear. He could not make himself really care. Not until the morning a frightened mute awoke him before dawn to tell that there had been an accident in the kitchen.
<
br /> Teray got up silently, radiating annoyance that the mute could not feel, and followed the mute down to the huge kitchen. A cook had dropped a pan of hot cooking grease on his foot. The foot was badly burned.
Teray bent at once to examine the foot. He could read the man’s pain on his face but he was careful not to read it in his mind. Like all Patternists, Teray had been taught as much as he could learn of healing before he left the school. The healing ability had little to do with mental strength it was a different sort of power. Most Houses kept at least one woman or outsider who specialized in healing. One who could do massive work like regenerating limbs or ridding a body of some poison or deadly disease. A good healer could handle anything short of the Clayark disease. But Teray was not a good healer. Carefully, he doused the man’s agony. That was simple enough, but the healing …
He considered calling Coransee to find out who the healer of the House was. He should have found out long ago, he knew. And he knew that Coransee would tell him as much in no uncertain language. Then he remembered the large, only partially digested lump of his Jackman memories. He reached into them, and found the healer’s name and the emergency mental call that she responded to. Knowing eased his mind, gave him confidence. If the healer was there and ready to answer quickly, then he could risk not bothering her. He could risk healing the mute himself.
He found it easiest to act as though the mute’s body were his own, as though Teray were regenerating his own flesh. Much cooked, dead flesh had to be sloughed off. The mute’s pain could not be allowed to return. Teray closed his eyes in concentration. He did not open them until he was finished. The mute’s foot was whole again, and he sat gazing, fascinated, at the new pink flesh.
“It will be tender for a while,” Teray told him. “But it’s all right. Have a good breakfast and take the day off.”
The mute smiled. “Thank you.”
And Teray went back to bed feeling pleased with himself for the first time since he had become a muteherd. He had performed the healing slowly but properly. He would have had the House healer check the mute, but he felt certain that the man was completely well. Teray had not done such a thing for anyone other than himself since he had learned how to do it, years before.