Archoi ~ Telepathic Portals to Distant Worlds

PART 1

Unknowingly, we plow the dust of stars,
blown about us by the wind, and drink the
universe in a glass of rain.

Ihab Hassan.

Escape from the black cloud
that surrounds you.
Then you will see your own light
as radiant as the full moon.

Rumi

Chapter 1 – Telepath

Imdah City, Patros, K-22 System. September 17, 2386 GES.

Pindra jabbed Shawna, hard. “Hey, snap to it. We’ve got company.”

Shawna yanked herself back to the present. Thoughts of Ethan blinked out. A welter of sensory signals reminded Shawna where she was, what she was about. The stench of urine and nearby neglect, the distant wail of an infant, the crunch of broken paving under her boots as she walked briskly through the shabby square.  She was in a broken-down part of the city looking for individuals with telepathic ability—for the Telpher Project.

They had just crossed into a trash-littered open square, leaving the cloistered byways where there had been no response to Shawna’s mental probes. The gray sunless sky, visible once again, was unfriendly. So was the mien of the four men who had appeared out of nowhere and surrounded them. The two women from off world didn’t have time or means to get away. An imminent danger cast in sharp relief the peaceful nature of their mission here.

Pindra subvocalized a text to Shawna via her implant. [If we can’t talk our way out of this, let me have the two brawny guys and you take the other two.] Pindra wasn’t telepathic.

Shawna nodded, sizing up her possible opponents. Her kata routines came sharply into focus. A quick side glance at her partner’s face showed steel there, adding to her own confidence. Pindra was a good head taller than her and had a more powerful physique. Shawna firmed up her footing, flexed her fingers and hands—just in case.

“Hey, fine young ladies. Welcome to the neighborhood,” said the guy on Pindra’s left. He had a prominent scar on his left cheek.

“Yeah, sweethearts. How about we give you a tour see’n as how you’re new here. Ain’t you?” This came from a lean guy whose arms looked like thick electrical cables. He advanced toward Shawna, leering at her.

“Don’t think so boys. We like exploring on our own. Kinda gives us a good workout.”

“Who you calling boys, bitch?” It was Cable Arms who fired back. He kicked a loose piece of pavement that landed just short of Pindra’s foot.

“Yeah!” echoed the short one at his left. He was rolling up his sleeves.

“Why excuse me! I did fail to see the evidence of adulthood, like courtesy for example. Now, if you men will just stand aside so we can go on our way peacefully…”

[Pindra, is that how you talk your way out of this?]

[Just hurrying things along. They’re not going to let us go without a fight.]

“Don’t think so, bitches. You two are going to go with the four of us over to that empty warehouse and we’re going to show you the way we welcome visitors, female visitors.”

Scarface stepped quickly up to Pindra intending to grab her wrist. He never made it. With a lightning speed, Pindra made a sweep that took him down, delivering a punch to his head that knocked him out. She barely had time to dodge the other guy, who moved to tackle her, driving her back. She twisted out of his grip and pulled back, readying herself for the next sally while glancing to see how Shawna was doing. Mistaking Pindra’s glance toward Shawna as inattention, he charged. It was a mistake. She dodged aside, tripping him as he flew by. He fell on his face and Pindra quickly took advantage. Grabbing him by both feet she picked him up and swung him around, letting go after a three-quarter turn. He landed headfirst in a tumble.

Shawna also surprised the first assailant to reach her, Cable Arms. She evaded his grab, twisted quickly with a butterfly kick that knocked him down. Coming out of the butterfly, she crouched into a reverse roundhouse kick that surprised his companion. Cable Arms, the nimblest of the four, had quickly scrambled to his feet and lunged at Shawna. She was knocked off her balance but managed a back flip. She came up right into the other guy who got her into a chokehold. Cable Arms was heading for her with a wicked smile, licking his lips. She couldn’t extract herself from the chokehold but found advantage in it. Leaning into him she arched her back and pulled both feet up to plunge them into Cable Arms’ solar plexus. She timed it perfectly. It knocked the wind out of him—temporarily. The other guy’s hold loosened, and she took advantage, grasping his wrist and pulling it free enough for her to twist toward him, freeing herself. Her attacker had left himself wide open, not expecting her strength. From a crouching position she kicked up between his legs into his groin. He doubled over in pain.

Shawna turned around just in time to see Cable Arms, who had recovered and was swearing profusely at her. He swung a side kick at her before she could center herself and she went down. He was on her in an instant, face to face. His breath had a sickening sourness. “It’s over my little chickadee. Now for the fun.” He ground his pelvis into her.

Shawna head-butted him but his head was like granite and her butt had barely an effect. Just as she was about to black out from the strike on his head, the pressure of his body disappeared. She heard a loud yowl and looked up to see him flying through the air toward a lamp post. Pindra had literally picked him up and flung him at the steel stanchion. His scream was the last noise he made as he twisted around it. There was silence.

Still a little dazed, Shawna accepted Pindra’s assist lifting her to her feet. “You all right, girl? That was a nice move you made against that ugly dude using the other one for leverage.”

“Thanks for the assist, Pindra.” She looked over at the guy decorating the post. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a throw like that before.” She dusted herself off and tried to smile.

“Hey, that guy really, really pissed me off when he landed on you and started, you know…I said to myself, there’s no way in the deepest black hole he’s not going to wish he hadn’t done that to my friend.” She grinned smartly and put her arm around Shawna. “Come on! Let’s get out of here before more trouble arrives.”

Unfortunately, that is just what happened. More trouble, in the form of two men advancing at them from across the small square. What was trouble about them was what they carried. Each had a long knife in one hand and a club in the other.

“Okay, here we go again” There was no hint of weariness in Pindra’s voice. Shawna realized Pindra just liked this kind of stuff—kicking ass, to put it in the vernacular. Shawna was skilled at it too, but it wasn’t her first choice for entertainment. This kind, especially, with weapons involved. They’d be fortunate, she thought, to get out of this unharmed. Clearing her head she got ready for the fight. It never took place.

As the two men closed in on them their eager expressions suddenly paled. Dropping their clubs and sheathing their knives they began to back up. After a few paces they turned and fled. Pindra and Shawna both turned around in surprise, thinking a small army must have come up behind them to produce such a turnabout. It was just one man. The army was what he held in his hand: a large Stinger. The kind that paralyzes, leaving little in the way of feeling when you get hit with its beam. You’re still alive, but… A terrible fate, worse than death many said.

“Howdy, kind women!” The stranger said with a hearty and very polite voice. “I hope I didn’t spoil your approaching fun. I, uh, came in on the end of the previous show.” A casually but expensively dressed man with short and neatly arranged dreadlocks laughed lightly and motioned to the four previous attackers, a couple of whom were just getting up and trying to help their fallen comrades.

“My name is Jamal.” Pocketing his weapon, he strode forth with hand outstretched. Pindra declined his handshake, but Shawna accepted it, giving him a small smile.

Jamal looked to Shawna to be about her own age, maybe a couple years older. His deep brown eyes and soft features accented a kind of off-hand friendliness, like Ethan. “Hi,” Shawna said, smiling at him. “I’m Shawna. And this is my friend Pindra.” She looked at Pindra, who had a skeptical expression on her face. “I guess it’s lucky you came along when you did.”

“Yeah,” piped in Pindra, who decided to speak. “And even luckier you had some tools with you. Which, by the way, I’m wondering how that happened to be. If I’m properly informed, carrying concealed weapons on Patros, particularly that kind of weapon, can get you a long prison term. Or worse.” She smiled dourly.

Jamal seemed not to be offended, even delighted with her gentle verbal joust. “Well, let’s just say I have connections.” He waited, hoping for the obvious question. It usually worked with women he approached for the first time. It didn’t with them, so he continued. “One of which I guess is…” He made a dismissive move of his hand. “Is my last name.”

Undeterred, Pindra came back, “Which is…?”

“Downtree. Jamal Downtree…the Third.” His expression was an artful combination of genuine charm and affected humility.

Shawna was liking him more and more, aware of a growing sensual undercurrent between them. She recognized the last name. She had made herself familiar with the political landscape on this planet during their weeks-long journey from Earth. “You mean, as in the son of Planetary Governor Jamal Downtree, the Second?”

“Yeah, I guess so. But don’t tell my father about the… You know, about the little persuader that turned those two away.” He patted his pocket almost affectionately. “Hey, can I treat you two lovely women, give you the kind of welcome you should have received? I know a café not too far that has considerably more appeal than these, uh, surroundings.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and started walking away. He looked back. “Coming?”

Looking at each other, the Starchaser shipmates shrugged, drew themselves up and caught up with him. Pindra walked at one side of him and Shawna at the other. Shawna thought to herself, Well, we haven’t found any telepaths today to recruit. But maybe all is not lost…

For Shawna, the day seemed to be turning sunny after all. She had been more than a little miffed with Ethan. He was supposed to be gone for just two weeks. The two weeks would be up tomorrow, but he had texted her that it would be another week more.

As she and Pindra walked along with Jamal, Shawna found herself in a struggle she had never before faced. Ethan’s aggravating decision to extend his trip had left her vulnerable—to her own self-centered needs. It was the first time they had been separated for any length of time. And now, for the first time, Shawna was tempted by thoughts of a different man. It wouldn’t be hard. Jamal was subtle, but his signals were obvious to Shawna. She knew how to respond, how to make it happen. She intuitively understood what she could expect from Jamal, what would please him in return. She had learned those ways in her college days on Mycenae—not so long ago, before she and Ethan got together. The youthful passions of those years came roaring back. In her commitment to Ethan she had given up that life, but that decision had never been tested. Now it was. With Ethan gone for another week, seeming to care more about his work than her, Shawna was made acutely conscious of the physical aspect of their relationship—the lack of something that she normally took for granted.

She considered the man walking beside her. Handsome, rugged, friendly—everything Ethan was and perhaps a bit more given his pedigree. She laughed at Jamal’s flourishes as he recounted amusing anecdotes surrounding his growing up on the planet of which his father was essentially the perennial Governor. His banter, together with his presence beside her began to intoxicate her. He didn’t attempt to maintain much separation from her—their hands brushed, briefly clasping together once. She entwined her fingers in his for long moments, remembering the familiar thrill that came with first getting to know a guy. A raw hunger asserted itself and she let it happen, savored the awakened desire. She began to wonder whether a lifetime commitment to one man was essential. She was close to losing the battle. She rationalized the differences between the world she had been raised in and the world she now traveled.

When Mycenae, Shawna’s home planet, emerged from its 350-year isolation from the rest of the galaxy, she had learned that the monogamous culture which she had grown up with was but one of a much wider variety of relationships between the sexes embraced by a 24th-century ethic. So, Shawna now wondered, why just one man? Thoughts of release swirled within her as she gave in to the growing heat between her and Jamal, planning how she would explain to Pindra her absence from the hostel that evening. What if I just let myself go? Had this man for just for one night? Would it really matter to Ethan? I still love him, and I’ll go back to him when he returns.

Then another side of her kicked in. Abruptly, forcefully. It was her authentic side, the genuine person she was. She had chosen Ethan to partner with her just half a decade ago as she set out upon her journey to bring freedom to her people on Mycenae. After they had won the battle for Mycenae she had been called to a greater task: find telepaths for Telphers. Her path, their path for Ethan committed himself to it as well, was now a mission to help birth a new age of galactic harmony. Hopefully. Their acceptance of that call was the catalyst that fully sealed their union, and they became lifemates. They had not been separated since. With these recollections, Shawna reminded herself that her journey was about a lot more than having a man in her bed. She asked herself if Jamal truly had a part in that journey. The answer came quickly. Not a good idea, girl. Keep a lid on it, however you can. Keep your eyes on the vision. She sighed silently.

Shawna put away the remembered passions of her youth with a resolve drawn from the same reserves that had propelled her to captaincy of an interstellar spacecraft. Still young, in her late twenties, now it was strength of character she earnestly sought. Which required faithfulness in relationships. She moved to put more separation between herself and Jamal as they came into a plaza boasting high-end shops and eateries. Despite its slums, Patros’ capital city Imdah was prosperous.

After a pleasant interlude at a small bistro, as they were getting up from the sidewalk table, Jamal suggested he walk them back to their hostel.

Pindra said equably to Jamal, “Hey, guy, that won’t be necessary. The way back is through good neighborhoods. Besides, we ladies planned to do a little shopping. You wouldn’t be comfortable hanging with us for that, would you?” Without waiting for an answer, she took Shawna’s arm, saying, “But thanks for the drinks, and the company. It was a great way to turn a disaster into a success.”

 Jamal, true to his persona, smiled congenially. “No problem, kind women. You know how to get in touch with me should the need arise.” He watched silently as Pindra guided Shawna out onto the boulevard.

The two spacers walked on in silence. After a while Pindra said, “Jamal’s a fun guy.” Her tone was neutral.

“What?”

“Just saying…”

“C’mon Pindra. You’ve got something in mind…Oh! Now I get it.”

“Well…?”

“Well, nothing! I passed on him.”

Pindra stopped and turned to her. “Not even tempted?”

“Yes, dammit! I was tempted. But I pulled out of it. Ethan’s my true love, and love demands faithfulness. My man will be back soon enough. Besides,” Shawna grimaced slightly as she looked up into her friend’s face, “I wouldn’t have liked myself if I had done that to him. And I don’t want him fooling around either.” Not that he would. He’s far too dedicated to me for that, and inescapably loyal. Along with being a brainiac and little OCD. She admired Ethan for his own strengths, wondering if she could emulate some of them herself.

“Good!”

“Hey,” Shawna growled, “you’re not playing mother, are you? Or maybe big sister?”

Pindra put her hand lightly on Shawna’s shoulder. “Not at all, my friend. It’s part of building a strong team, of establishing the confidence in each other that we’ll need as we go forward in this venture.  You’re showing me that I can trust you to make good decisions and that you’ll listen to me if I question them. As my Captain, that’s important.” The Starchaser’s Chief Engineer gave Shawna a small squeeze. Softening her voice and making gentle eye contact, she said, “Concern is also a part of friendship and love. I think I know the difficulty you’re facing with Ethan being away. But I love Ethan as much as I love you. I don’t want to see either of you hurt. Finding a good man, Shawna, is a rare thing. I’m glad you’re hanging on to your find.” Pindra reflected to herself, And I know from personal experience just how rare that is. The heartbreak that comes from losing it. Maybe I’ll share that story with Shawna some time.

Shawna felt the tear forming in her eye and responded cheerily, “Thank you, Pindra. Thank you for your loyalty—and your friendship.” She reached up and gave her a brief hug.

Aboard Starchaser, Star System K-22.  September 1, 2386 GES.

It had been just over two weeks earlier that Shawna, Pindra and their starship crew had arrived Patros. The day they entered the K-22 Star System had been special to Shawna. September 1st—her 27th birthday! The day had ended with a surprise birthday celebration during mainday-alterday shift change. She still had warm memories of her crew’s expressions of love and friendship that day…

They were one day out from the principal planet Patros. Mainday crew had transferred operations to alterday crew, and it was late, into the early hours of alterday. Shawna and her mainday officers were sitting around in the mess hall finishing off the birthday cake from the earlier celebration at shift change, and talking casually about the mission. Ruby, her alterday commanding officer, had just joined them, taking a short break after handing over the Bridge to Abel, the alterday Pilot. Shawna was glad Ruby was there. Shawna’s telepathic gift became the subject of serious inquiry as well as good-natured ribbing.

Her crew all knew she was a telepath. Afterall, her telepathic gift was the purpose for this mission. They also knew she didn’t have access to their thoughts.  That had been a pre-requisite in their selection: Shawna’s inability to access their minds. The close confines of a small spacecraft made such communications between a captain and her crew problematic at best.

“So, how do you find another telepath, Shawna?”

Shawna answered, “Not so easy, Pindra. You know that people with telepathic ability are not usually appreciated except, perhaps, by close friends.” She quirked her lips to one side. “And, sometimes, not by your mate either. Of course, I can easily read this man without the need to hear his thoughts.” With an affected sigh, she made to poke Ethan in the ribs. He slipped away from her, intuiting what was coming. They all laughed. Shawna made no secret of the fact that she could not read Ethan’s thoughts any more than theirs. She hadn’t told her crew what a relief it was that their minds were blank to her, but she suspected they knew anyway.

Jase spoke up, “So, that means that if I was telepathic, I wouldn’t be keen to let others know, right?”

“That’s right Jase. We keep quiet about it. Usually.”

Ruby asked, “But what if it’s someone who’s a friend, someone you care for?”

Shawna was silent for a long moment, looking inwardly, remembering how she felt when she discovered her gift in the presence of two women who had been and still were dear friends. Jana Anders and Sonja Bellesario were also telepaths. They had taught her the answer to questions like the one Ruby was raising. She spoke slowly, reflecting, “If someone whose thoughts you hear is your friend, then you find an opportunity to tell them. As soon as you can. It’s a risk, and sometimes you can lose the friend. But if she stays with you, the next thing you do is tell her that you are able to block her thoughts. That’s a skill you must learn. It took me a while, but I mastered it. Everyone’s thoughts come on a sort of unique frequency, I guess you’d say, and you learn to recognize it. You and your friend agree on something that works for the two of you, so that if your friend wants to let you in on what she’s thinking without speaking aloud, she can signal you mentally in a way that goes around your block.”

“What if the other person is a telepath also?” Ethan knew the answer but thought it would be valuable for the others to know it as well.

“Then it’s a lot easier. In fact, once you establish the fact that you are both telepathic with each other, your conversation is pretty much conditioned by the same social conventions around verbal communication. Things like ask if they’d like to share thoughts, listen to the other, use mental images appropriate to the relationship you have, and so forth.”

“So,” volunteered Pindra, “I think I’m seeing the answer to my question. Say you walk into a room full of people and notice someone whose thoughts you can read. You approach the person and politely ask them, in mind speech as you call it, if you can speak with them. Since no one hears you say anything you haven’t embarrassed or exposed the other person. If they answer you mentally, you’re in.” Pindra grinned enthusiastically, taking another chip from the dish in the center of the table. “How’s that, Shawna?”

“Yeah, piece of cake. Unfortunately, though that is a good approach, it may not come out so neatly.” Shawna leaned forward, lips in a tight smile and earnest eyes. “And I’m not really the expert yet that I hope to become. You all know that I hope.” Her admission was not in her role as a ship’s captain, but as a would-be friend. Her crew mates were special to her, especially those with shared command responsibilities. She trusted them with an insight into her own felt inadequacy. Maybe it was inappropriate. Ethan might reproach her for that when they got back to their cabin, but she wanted to build a relationship that was beyond the sense of mission or duty. In the long run, particularly if they ran into trouble, strong bonds of friendship would be invaluable for finding solutions.

“Oh, we know you’re not perfect, Captain,” Jase remarked with mock seriousness.

“I’ll second that!” They all looked up, startled at first until they recognized the purr.

“Tabby! Have you been eavesdropping?” Shawna scolded.

“I’m always listening. It’s part of my job.” There was no argument with that. They all knew how critical their shipmind’s knowledge and actions were.

Jase yawned and said, “Time for me to tuck it in. I need to get up a little earlier tomorrow to debrief Felicia. We have a big day and I want to double check our coordinates with her.” Felicia, alterday Nav, had almost as much experience as Jase; they made a good team.

“Me too,” said Pindra, thinking about some last-minute prep she needed to do before hitting the sack. Also need to check Tessita’s concern on the O2 regen, she thought to herself.

Ruby downed the last of her coffee and headed back to the Bridge. She smiled warmly at Shawna as she left the mess deck.

Shawna and Ethan were left alone. He slid close and put an arm around her. “I love you, lady. You are the best!” She nestled her head on his shoulder, slowly ran her hand through his wavy locks. An electric glow spread upward from her core responding to his closeness. They got up and headed for their cabin.

As the cabin door swished closed Shawna released the seals on her jumpsuit, stripped out of it and began pulling at the seals on Ethan’s jumpsuit. She laughed softly.

“Hey! You want something?”

“Yes. Don’t you? Besides, you haven’t given me my birthday present yet.”

Ethan stepped out of his own shipboard garb. “I was wondering when you would ask, love. Don’t you think I planned this all along?” He spoke the lights to dim, toggled the privacy screen to keep Tabby out (there was a protesting chirp), and gently guided her to their narrow bed. Snuggling, caressing her, finding the places he knew she liked to be touched he whispered, “Happy Birthday.”

Aboard Starchaser, Star System K-22.  September 2, 2386 GES.

The next day Shawna’s shift had begun in earnest with the hail from Patros Station—a metallic voice in her implants.

“Starchaser, your request for entrance into Patros space is approved. Commence insystem approach on ecliptic-plane route alpha-zero-niner-three. Arrival at Station expected to be oh-eight-thirty Station time. Please observe restrictions on V-dump and prepare for possible deviation from plan due to congestion. Welcome to Patros!”

Shawna’s adrenaline spiked. She turned to Comm behind her on the Bridge and then to Nav. “Tahnya, confirm receipt and acceptance of Patros Station’s routing directive. Jase, lay in our course accordingly.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Both Bridge officers responded simultaneously.

Tahnya swiveled in her flight couch, toggling a control in her holographic display. “Patros Station, Starchaser is affirmative on route alpha-zero-niner-three with intended arrival at oh-eight-thirty. Confirming insystem operations per Patros protocols.”

 Shawna opened a private channel. “Tabby, commence countdown to Ring Static and V-dump. Prepare for insystem routing to Patros Station.” She could have used her telepathy because Tabby could read minds—her mind anyway. But sometimes plain speech was a relief. Less complicated in a way. For critical maneuvers it might be essential.

“Aye, aye, Captain Shawna,” came the shipmind’s verbal response, with her trademark purr accenting Shawna’s first name. Though Tabby would deign to speak aloud to other crew, when necessary, she accorded Shawna a unique intimacy. No one had yet figured out how some shipminds could read human minds, though the going hypothesis was via the implants that every person received shortly after birth. Called TASCs, short for thought activated surveillance and control, Shawna hadn’t received hers until she was in her twenties, when her planet joined the rest of galactic humanity.

Moments later, internal shipboard coms burst forth with a jarring whoop-whoop alarm followed by the announcement: “Orange Alert! Commencing progressive V-dump and Ring spin down in fifteen minutes. Secure all items in cabins and common spaces. All personnel to secure safety straps and/or webbing. Ring Static in seventy-five minutes. After Ring Static gravity will be normal to the aft bulkhead at two times Earth normal for one hour. Docking at Station in two hours and fifteen minutes. Buckle up!”

Shawna cinched her flight couch straps tighter. They had dropped out of warp about eight hours earlier, at the beginning of mainday shift. Now they would begin to dump the momentum they had acquired some three weeks ago when they had accelerated out of Sol System preparing to engage the Alcubierre hyperdrive. The Law of Conservation of Momentum. There was no significant motion while in hyperspace, but that law of Newtonian physics still applied. All awake crew would know to be strapped in by now. Alterday crew, on sleep cycle, should have deployed webbing prior to hitting the sack. Fifteen minutes later Starchaser’s orientation flipped end-for-end and her fusion torch lit. Declining g from Ring spin would now be vectored with 2g deceleration forces for about an hour, canting everything to odd angles as Tabby brought them in on the assigned flight path. Shawna monitored Ring spindown, and V-dump orientation vectors as they slowed to enter Patros’ congested space. Her feelings alternated between contentment and a keyed-up tension.

By the time they docked, alterday crew would be just finishing their sleep cycle. Nice for them. Their biological clocks would match station time almost perfectly. For Shawna and her mainday team it would be time for dinner and then sleep after arrival, though she doubted she’d get much of the latter this time. Food would probably be good, though.

That she had become an interstellar starship captain at the age of 27 was, in Shawna’s mind, just awesome. In only a decade she had grown from the wide-eyed youth who had met the first spacers ever to come to her world, wanting to be like them, into the accomplished young woman who was captain of her own spacecraft. The spacecraft she and Ethan had christened Starchaser.

As Starchaser shed the momentum they had gained exiting Sol System, Shawna gazed at the starscape, what portion of it she could see through the forward vidscreen. They had entered the Kepler-22 Star System, more compactly known as K-22, on a bearing for its principal planet, Patros. On far-scan Shawna could see Patros and Patros Station suspended against the starry backdrop. Inside the Station there was human life, with only mortal ingenuity to keep it safe in its hostile setting: the black of space.

Abruptly, there was a voice in her mind, inaudible, like the human telepathy she was familiar with. Yet there were no human telepaths aboard Starchaser, and this voice wasn’t human.

>What you conceive as life is but a ripple in my fabric. Fragile. Ephemeral.<

Shawna sent to Tabby: ~Tabby, was that you?

~No, ma’am, came the crisp reply.

~No ma’am? What’s with the formality?

~I dunno. Seems kinda formal a situation. Tabby affected a hillbilly accent.

~Really? Shawna marveled at how whimsical Tabby was. Almost insolent; except Shawna knew better. Okay, she thought to herself, the voice wasn’t Tabby. She turned her attention back to the starfield in front of her. Considered. Stars: They’re the result of eons of accumulation and condensation of hydrogen and other elements under the influence of gravity. Did I imagine that voice? She momentarily set aside her scientific training and postulated an ancient intelligence, a sapience that had existed long before the points of light that punctured the blackness of space. It seemed hardly reasonable, but was this an attempt to communicate with her? By whom? And what was the meaning of those words?

Shawna had decided to ignore the voice when one of her whimsical moods took over. Playing along, she gave the Being a name, Blackness, and addressed Them as she might another telepath. Or a god. ~Ephemeral? Yes. And no. Are You not the womb, the fetal matrix for these orbs of light? So then, what You have birthed must surely bear Your essence, achieve Your purpose. No response. An old, oft-repeated truth came to mind, which she tacked on to her message: ~Because, we are all made of stardust. Still no response. Oh well, she thought to herself, I did imagine the voice. Yet, the truth remains. She thought back to her Cosmology 101 course: The vast deep traversed by this fragile metal hull enclosing my own life does continuously return the life that it takes. Stars are born; stars die—maybe endlessly. This cycle had seeded her own existence, all humanity in this galaxy. Other galaxies, too. As far as they knew.

Not for the first time, Shawna acknowledged a hunger for something she couldn’t fully formulate, or even understand why it was that she yearned. Always had. The urge, the impulse to reach out, to explore, to touch. Worlds, peoples, star systems—known and unknown. She had wanted this as long as she could remember. Back on Mycenae, her home planet, looking up and twirling herself under the starry heavens of summer. To know the cosmos somehow. Why? Why do I desire the stars? What was it in her soul that was incomplete? If she traveled the length and breadth of the galaxy, would she be filled? Would she find completion?

As if to answer, Blackness spoke again:

>Completion transcends temporality, bestows immortality. Would you take that Path?<

Okay, so I didn’t imagine the voice after all. But what path? Is this some higher calling on my life? Despite her yearning, Shawna had no desire to become god. The whimsy was gone. She wouldn’t answer this Being, even if the ache within remained.

Shawna had heard spacers speak of the first time they had done EVA, leaving the safety of their ship for needed repairs on hulls. The first experience of the black of space was said to be terrifying. Endless in depth, impossibly foreign, not just black but entirely without color. She wondered if that human dread disguised a fear of insignificance, mistook a hidden purpose behind the black of space. She had no such fear. Her life had purpose here and now.

Purpose. It came to her then. For the first time. That she belonged at the helm of a starship. As captain. She was now a spacer, about to fulfill her dreams! How right it felt. Would this feeling ever depart her? She didn’t know. Would her responsibility for the lives of others ever outweigh the joy? It hadn’t yet. She hoped it never would.

In the faint reflection on the vidscreen glass, Shawna studied her face, her delicate features and smooth ivory-toned skin. Her almond-shaped eyes matched the long ebony tresses she constrained by braids or ties when on watch, sometimes with a bright ribbon on one side. I’m going to shorten my hair to something easier to manage. And more adult. The rest of her wasn’t visible in the plex: a small, feminine form; well proportioned, no extremes. Shawna was aware that her youthful beauty often turned heads, but she carried herself with a self-conscious yet sincere humility. Strength of character was of greater value to her than external looks. Character was a goal she earnestly pursued.

Purpose. She turned to the man in the flight couch beside hers. The man she had chosen to walk with her on the path that had been set before her half a decade ago. Ethan gave her a warm smile underneath soft brown eyes that contrasted his rugged features. When they had first met his dark brown hair was shoulder length; now it was shorter but still covered his ears. She was tempted to run her hand through its coarse strands, a favorite pastime. But she couldn’t reach across the gap between them. The glow of companionship and familiarity between them was purpose enough for now. And the mission they had taken up together.

Mission. The Telpher Project. Specifically, find telepaths who could operate the Telphers. As Starchaser dumped velocity and sped closer and closer to Patros, Shawna’s thoughts came down out of the stars. They had to get the first Telphers up and running, to prove out the concepts and give people something they could see and could pin their hopes on. Patros was to be the first extra-solar world to get a Telpher. So Patros was the first place Shawna would look for telepaths. If there were any on the planet. She would soon know.

Shawna opened her tablet and idly paged through the Telpher background materials. Her eye caught on part of a treatise by the inventor of the Telpher, Dr. Hald Forsen.

The Telpher is an extradimensional, interstellar teleporter with a human-machine interface. Broadly speaking, the machine part opens a gateway into the fifth dimension. The machine captures anti-gravitons and focuses them to an intensity sufficient to bridge the barrier between our world and the higher dimension. The particle beam creates a fifth-dimension bubble, or hypersphere enclosed by a thin membrane. The membrane’s Planck-scale cross-section intersects our fourth dimension creating an annulus with the higher dimension. The fifth-dimension field is mental energy; some would say a cosmic mind. A properly trained telepath mentally enters the hypersphere membrane annulus to locate any place in our fourth-dimension world. She then creates a mental  link between two locations. Those two locations may be tens or hundreds of lightyears apart. The Telpher converts the traveler’s baryonic matter upon entry into pure mental energy that securely travels along the prepared link. Travel is at the speed of thought, instantaneous. At its present state of development, both the machine and a human telepath are required. …

Enough physics, Shawna thought. Of more personal interest was what the Telpher Project represented to humanity. Surprisingly, that subject was more complex than the physics of it, to Shawna at least. The Project’s goal was to seed the galaxy with Telphers for use by all the peoples of the galaxy. The ability of individual people to go from one planet to another in the blink of an eye had never before been contemplated, let alone attempted. A galaxy thoroughly saturated with such devices would be unrecognizable to its present inhabitants. Eventually there would be no more long-haul journeys of weeks to months to get from one end of human habitation to the other. People could travel and communicate instantly. This journey she was taking right now, three plus weeks in duration, would be accomplished in the blink of an eye. Government, economics, culture and custom—all would be transformed.

Questions of credulity had come to Shawna’s mind when first presented with this vision for a Telpher-dominated world. Global questions. Personal questions. The changes that would come, both in their lives and for life in the galaxy, were still mostly inconceivable. The questions were the more acute because she and Ethan had agreed to sign on to the mission.

In time, other telepaths could be trained to do the searching that, at present, only Shawna could do. This would give Shawna needed respite from time to time. Shawna had made it clear to the Project sponsors that she did not intend to spend her life looking for telepaths. She wanted to explore, to push beyond the known boundaries of the habitable region of their galaxy. She also knew that someday she would want children. Whether those two goals were compatible was yet to be seen. For the present, finding a few other telepaths to share the burden, as well as training them, was challenge enough. She would then need to convince them to join her in forming a new galactic organization, one that would oversee the means to bring together all human communities throughout the galaxy closer than ever thought possible.

A new galactic organization. The words kept reverberating in Shawna’s mind. Did galactic humanity need yet another organization? More to the point, if she was successful in gathering a cadre of Telpher telepaths, would the new organization be any less biased than those captive to the existing ruling forces in the galaxy? Shawna had no illusions about the usual human propensity for money and power. But there was nothing she could do about that, at least not now. Shawna tried not to dwell on these worries. She had hopes for one day doing something that would push things in the direction of greater equality. For now she had to swim with the current that others had set in motion.

Shawna was busy mapping out strategies, approaches to people, schedules in her mind, using the verbal note-taking function in her implants, when Tahnya signaled her.

“Captain, hail coming in from Patros Station.”

“Patch it through to me, Tahnya.” Where had the time gone?

“Starchaser, you are cleared for final approach and dock. Please acknowledge.” She signaled Tahnya to relay an affirmative to Station Traffic Control. Almost instantly came the response, “Starchaser, you are assigned E Deck Berth One-Oh-Seven. Prepare for boarding by Customs after securing to Station dock.” Shawna acknowledged and breathed an expectant sigh. Then she switched to Tabby’s channel and advised her of imminent dock (as if she didn’t know already) and to cede control to Patros Station Pilot for final approach and securing the ship. She suspected that Tabby wouldn’t actually cede control but just let the pilot think she had. That woman (she thought of the shipmind as a woman) was insanely jealous of anyone driving her ship. Her ship? Gosh! It had taken a week or more for Shawna to achieve a somewhat equivalent status with Tabby in that department.

Shawna toggled a private channel with Ethan. “We’re here—our first assignment. I don’t know whether I’m elated or apprehensive.”

“Hey, ‘Shine, you’re good. We both are.” That was short for Starshine, a term of fondness Ethan had started using for her since they had signed up for this mission. He still wasn’t sure if she regarded it as affectionate or not. She hadn’t said anything. But she hadn’t kicked him out of bed yet either. A good sign since sex with him was one of her love languages. Not that he didn’t enjoy her that way as well. But for him it was her admiration that spoke her love to him. They fit well with each other in many ways.

A jarring whoop-whoop alarm interrupted the sensual warmth flowing between Shawna and her mate and first officer. “Yellow Alert! Terminating V-dump in five minutes. Expect nul g until Station gravity is established at 1g, normal to the Ship’s aft bulkhead.”

 “Open a ship-wide channel for me, Tahnya.” Shawna spoke to her crew. “Starchaser crew, we’ve arrived. Prepare for final approach and docking. And thanks…for everything.” She swiveled around to glance at her Nav. Jase looked to be just middle-aged, though Shawna knew he was older. His shoulder-length hair was tied back in a ponytail. Black like hers, but with a few grey strands. He had a kindly, though sharp-featured face and soft, slate-gray eyes, set narrow under a receding hairline. He gave her a friendly thumbs-up. Self-effacing, he was fast becoming like a favorite uncle to her. Her only natural uncle was far away on Mycenae.

Shawna turned further to smile at Tahnya and gave her an open-palmed high five. As with Shawna, this was her first interstellar mission. Tahnya’s freckled face beamed beneath curly red hair, illuminated by sparkling blue-eyes, as she returned the high five. Shawna noticed that Tahnya blushed as the voice of Toby Perrin crackled on Bridge com. He whooped, “Hey, lookout Patros! Here comes the crew of Starchaser.” Toby was the ‘silent’ type, so his outburst seemed out of character. He was handsome as well, a quality that Tahnya seemed also to be aware of. Upon reflection Shawna decided that Toby’s anticipation might have more to do with the chance to spend time with Tahnya than with sight-seeing. Most of the crew would be in sleepovers on Station for two to three weeks. They would have a needed rest while Shawna and Ethan were on planet carrying out their mission. And not getting much rest.

A cheerful “Yea!” broke a brief com silence, as Pindra acknowledged Shawna’s arrival hail. Shawna wondered at her delay. Probably tied up with ensuring the thrusters are primed for the docking procedure. Shawna pictured in her mind her best friend. Contrasting with Shawna’s diminutive frame, Pindra was tall and muscular. She usually dyed her ordinary brown hair to a bright saffron-red blend and wore it spiky and short, just touching the top of her ears. Her pleasant face, coffee and cream in color with rounded features seemed at odds with the serpentine and textile-patterned tattoos that adorned both arms from shoulder to wrist. Her wide-set grey-green eyes usually had a soft twinkle.

Patros Station loomed large in the aft vidscreen. The spacecraft’s thrusters activated, as Patros’ Station Pilot oriented the ship positioning it nose-first on the dock. There was a jerk and a loud thump as station clamps grasped the ship and secured her firmly to the dock. Ship gravity was restored, now provided by the station ring—perpendicular to shipboard normal. Flight couches swiveled to accommodate the new orientation and the Bridge aft bulkhead became the new deck. Tabby’s loud “Yellow Alert” sounded as Starchaser’s crew prepared for their first engagement.

Docking, customs, arranging for payment of the port tax and securing Starchaser had taken over two hours, but they were finally authorized to enter Patros Station proper. The crew chatted amiably as they left the docks and entered the Station. Some (not the veterans) remarked how the long corridors, gradually disappearing as they curved into the distance, offered a welcome contrast to the tight ring curvature they had known for many days. Boutiques, travel accessory shops, and eating establishments were scattered at pleasing intervals along the passageways. Gravity, though artificial from the rotating ring, was nearly Earth normal. A-grav was not used on space station rings since it was so much easier and less expensive to let Newtonian physics provide the sensation of weight. This was typical of many orbiting stations in the galaxy.

They found a food court and grabbed a quick lunch (regardless of time on Station, it was midday for them). With undisguised relief, everyone selected items that could not be found on the ship’s replicator menu. Fresh tomatoes and lettuce on tofu burgers made from local soybeans was a popular choice. Another, for pescatarians, was fish tacos. A locally brewed ale found approval by everyone. Then it was time to divide company. Jase and Stefan, his alterday counterpart, were sharing a room on station near the dock where they would have easy access to Starchaser should the need arise. The rest were on their own until boarding call several weeks hence. Jase would come planet side later to meet up with Ethan. For now Shawna, Ethan, and Pindra took a shuttle from the station to the planet surface.

Immigration was managed at the spaceport serving the city they were headed for. There was no need for immigration checks at station level since some who arrived there were merely transiting to a further destination. Patros was a Federation member planet, so their diplomatic credentials guaranteed the three of them swift passage. The Imdah tourist association had provided them lodgings at reasonable rates and an aircar as well.

As Shawna stepped through the airlock of the shuttle and into Patros’ warm ambience, she drew a deep breath of the fresh air. Patros was known as a garden planet, its exports of strategic importance to many other planetary systems. After weeks of antiseptic biogen air aboard ship, the natural air was a delight to the palate. Aromas of garlic, fresh strawberries and, she thought, even citrus refreshed her. She felt the crunch of real earth under her feet! Shawna remembered how, as a kid, she would twirl when so thoroughly enthralled as this. But, who knew what the social mores of the planet were? Well, she did know quite a bit about Patros, having studied much in preparation for the mission. There had been no mention of a ban on twirling, however.

Ethan flew the car into the city proper. They were quartered at a mid-level hostel in the capital city, Imdah, to which he navigated with the aid of the city’s networked guidance system.

Imdah City, Patros, K-22 System. September 3, 2386 GES.

Shawna, Ethan and Pindra had spent a day getting familiar with the city and acclimating themselves to local time. On the next day, the three met over a round of drinks in a private salon on the ground floor of the multi-story building. They went over agreed arrangements for their next steps. Shawna’s true mission was to remain secret. Protecting the identity of people with telepathic powers was of supreme importance. Ethan, on the other hand, had a legitimate business objective that was public. He was an acknowledged expert in transuranic element discovery and mining, a skill that he had used to support them while Shawna attended university on Earth. His official purpose in being on Patros was to meet with commercial interests that were planning mining operations in the mountains that ringed the alluvial plain around Imdah. His business undertakings provided perfect cover for the real purpose of their coming there.

Ethan could not continue to ignore the flashing icon in his heads up. “It’s time for me to leave, ladies. I am due to meet Jase at the spaceport at oh-nine-hundred. As agreed, I’ll take the car and leave it there.” He paused, looking pointedly at his mate, while somehow avoiding her alert black eyes. “Since I know it would be fruitless to insist that the women should have its comfort and advantages.” With a broad grin he tossed off the rest of his drink and leaned down to kiss Shawna on her high forehead, where the cornrows of her carefully braided hair were divided. “Bye, love. Good luck in finding your future partners.” Partners was a code word among them all for people with telepathic ability. “And be careful!” As he shouldered his duffel, he shot Pindra a knowing look, who gave him a non-committal salute goodbye. Ethan straightened his jacket, swept a hand through thick brown hair to capture any stray strands, and walked off. He would be gone for two weeks on an expedition to explore the potential mine sites.

As he walked away from them, Ethan knew that Pindra would rat him out over his suggestion to her, just as they disembarked Starchaser, that she should carry some hardware to strengthen their protection. That would earn him some static later from Shawna, but it would be too late. Anyway, he was glad she was comfortable enough with him to give him push back. They had only been together a few years and were still learning about each other. He was madly in love with her, and he knew she felt the same way for him. But now they were beginning to find out the little things that bugged the other. Or even bigger things.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Shawna chuckled. “I told you he would try to nail you with some extra responsibility for my care and feeding.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Before we disembarked Starchaser, he pulled me aside and suggested that I add hardware to my ‘not inconsiderable martial skills,’ as he put it. Unnecessarily, I might add.” Pindra laughed softly, thinking to herself, If Ethan only knew what I’m never without! “He reminded me that Patros was reasonably civilized but that Imdah, like most cities in the galaxy, had its rough neighborhoods. And, that your charter is not restricted to looking only in safe places for those with the ability we seeks.”

Shawna sighed deeply.  “What a hassle! I do treasure his concern for my safety. But I do not appreciate him going around my back to try to ensure it. I told him I would be fine.”

“Well, he told me not to tell you, but I think he knew that was a vain request. You and I have been friends almost as long as you and he have. I think he even counted on me telling you. Funny guy, your man!” Pindra’s words were congenial. I can see why Ethan’s attracted to her and she to him. Like the old adage, opposites attract. He might still feel protective of her even though he knows that underneath her rare beauty is a gutsy woman. She may be small but there’s steel inside. And determination.

“Yeah, I know. He’s a control freak, and as long as I’ve known him, I’ve had to deal with his attempts to control me.” She sighed. “That’s a bit harsh, I guess…I realize he just wants to take care of stuff that affects our lives together. And I do love him, Pindra. Love him intensely, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Pindra gave her friend a shrewd glance. “Oh, I’ve noticed all right!” Pindra thought to herself, And so has everyone else on Starchaser, including Tabby. “You could do worse, Shawna. For sure.” Pindra was not in a relationship just then and was, in fact, valuing her freedom. She hadn’t yet met someone she wanted to commit to in any long-term way. But, in no way was she envious of her friend. Ethan was a handsome and quality guy.

“Thanks, my friend.” Shawna finished off her drink and, setting the tumbler on the low table between them with a noticeable click of crystal against metal, she said, “Let’s do this!” The two spacers walked out of the hostel onto a busy city boulevard that was filled with the motions and noises of a civilization that was unsuspecting of its inevitable transformation.

Imdah City, Patros, K-22 System. September 4, 2386 GES.

On their third day on Patros Shawna found a candidate, a young woman named Keera. Shawna had thought that chances were good for her to locate people who were telepathic by hanging around the transit hub in Imdah’s City Center where the Telpher had been installed. Her intuition had been correct. Keera had been drawn there out of curiosity, wondering why people with telepathic ability were being sought in connection with the project. With a deep ebony complexion, short curly hair, and an infectious laugh, Keera reminded Shawna of Joss Sommers, the woman who had given Shawna her first experience piloting a spacecraft—albeit only in the atmosphere of her native Mycenae. Keera was a very strong telepath, yet inexperienced in the use of her gift. She had only recently learned to block the thoughts of others. Descended from the original settlers of Patros, Keera was a perfect candidate, certain to win confidence with her people. Assuming she could communicate well with a Telpher.

After establishing a comfortable relationship with Keera, over coffee and scones at a City Center coffee shop, Shawna invited her to the hostel where they were staying. There, in a rented conference room Shawna interviewed Keera, explaining the Project, and answering questions. They communicated telepathically, which gave Shawna a good feel for Keera’s potential. After a half day of screening Shawna concluded that Keera was more than suitable for the Project but would need training with the Telpher directly. She invited Keera to become a Portal Guardian—that was the official name of a Telpher telepath. Keera accepted the invitation. Shawna decided to use the upcoming Telpher dedication ceremony as an opportunity to do some initial training of Keera. The ceremony was a big publicity event that would happen before Shawna and her team left the planet. Later, Keera would travel to the Portal Guardians Guild headquarters on Verde for more extensive training.

Imdah City, Patros, K-22 System. September 17, 2386 GES.

Shawna’s thoughts came back to the present. Two weeks had gone by. Their initial success with Keera was not repeated. This was why she and Pindra had just found themselves in a questionable neighborhood dealing with a ‘welcoming party’ of four misogynists. With the better parts of the city well-travelled, Shawna had decided to exercise her own wisdom about where to find telepaths. The seedier parts of cities were just the places where telepathic people might live. If discovered, telepaths were sometimes ostracized from proper civility and forced to live on the margins of society. Thus, run-down barrios and poorer sections of the city were possibilities. They were also dangerous places for two unaccompanied women who would stand out as not being native to the planet. The two had been confident they could handle any situation that came up. It hadn’t quite worked out that way.

As she and Pindra walked back to the hostel after leaving Jamal at the bistro where he had treated them to drinks the two friends reminisced about their university days when they had first met.

 “You’ve never told me, Shawna, about how this all started for you and Ethan. I graduated from NASI the year before you and lost track of you for a while. What were you doing that got you embroiled with Telphers?”

“Well,” she turned to her best friend and smiled mischievously, “I went to see the most powerful man in the galaxy…”

Pindra’s question set Shawna once again to memories, now thinking about the events that had led she and Ethan to join the Telpher Project. She remembered that first meeting with Secretary Frist, the two years of preparation, the gift of a starship and the call to an impossible mission. It had started a little over two years ago…

Chapter 2 – Telpher Project

Two Years Earlier

KC Metro, North American Federation, Earth, Sol System. April 2384 GES.

Shawna and Ethan were on Earth, in KC Metro, the capital of the North American Federation, where she was finishing her Founders Degree in Astrophysical Engineering at the North American Space Institute. Shawna still wasn’t sure what she would do with the degree. She wasn’t cut out for teaching. Her childhood dream of going to the stars, exploring the galaxy, was ever present. A dream that was strengthened as she learned about the incredible movements of matter and energy that produced and sustained all life—both animate and inanimate. She thought she could apply for a position on a commercial starship that would someday lead to her being able to skipper her own ship. Contacts at InterStellar might help her get on with the megacarrier. But that was problematic. InterStellar had lost its monopoly on space travel and was downsizing to compete with startups. Potential employers would want experience not youthful idealism.

Ethan had taken the opportunity to get his Founders Degree in Planetology, hoping that someday they would have the opportunity to explore new worlds, virgin worlds. A dream he shared with his lover. Their mentors, Jana and Jame Anders, both of them alumni of NASI, had given them superlative recommendations. This led to both he and Shawna getting full-ride scholarships to the prestigious university. But there were always other living expenses, and Ethan was trying to help make ends meet by consulting for companies looking for radionuclides in the asteroid belt.

Ethan and Shawna were learning how to live together after a romantic courtship that was anything but normal. Daily life with the pressures of studies and an uncertain income produced strains in their relationship. They were making it work, but it hadn’t always been easy. They were still finding out how they best fit together—when not in bed. That, at least, was no problem.

The event that changed pretty much everything was an invitation to the headquarters of the Galactic Federation of Star Systems located in Delft, European Federation. An invitation from none other than Sir Thomas Frist, General Secretary of the GFSS, arguably the most influential individual in the galaxy. A gentle man, brimming with democratic ideals combined with a ruthless pragmatism. You didn’t get to his position without the latter. The former was the reason for the invitation.

Delft, European Federation, Earth, Sol System. April 2384 GES.

Shawna and Ethan were enthralled as they walked the streets of Delft hand in hand along the quaint tree-lined canals between ancient buildings. They had to watch out for the bicycles that briskly weaved their way through the picturesque city. Shawna had never seen a bicycle and was intrigued at both its practicality and its antiquity as a mode of transportation. They were still used in Delft when personal aircars and maglev passenger trams were common elsewhere on the Continent. The Netherlands city of Delft had been a separate entity centuries ago but was now a suburb of the Hague, the capital of the European Federation. Still, it had retained its distinctiveness.

They were in awe, too, at the lavish accommodations arranged by Sir Thomas. First-class round-trip transportation from KC Metro to Delft aboard the latest maglev train under the Atlantic Ocean. Far more comfortable (and romantic) than a sub-orbital shuttle, if not as fast. Then a five-star hotel near the City Centre. Shawna’s head was spinning and even Ethan, who’d had a lot more years traveling the stars than she did, was impressed.

“Of course, I expect you’ll be wondering just exactly what this meeting is about and why it concerns the two of you?” Sir Thomas’ tone made it sound like his question was an aside. It wasn’t. They had spent almost half an hour talking about their trip from the North American Federation, Shawna’s studies, Ethan’s work, and—of obvious great pride to him—what did they think of Delft? Refreshments had come, been consumed, and even replenished during the casual and friendly gathering in Frist’s well-appointed but unpretentious office on the second floor of an ancient building next to a narrow canal. Sir Thomas’ aide, Emmanuel Santora, was in attendance most of the time, taking notes as well as interjecting a comment or correction here and there. Shawna was amused that the most powerful man in the galaxy needed correcting. She had been taken by what might have once been called his old-world charm and was thinking about his short haircut, turning gray, wondering what Ethan would look like with short hair.

At Sir Thomas’ question they both managed something like, “Mmm,” or “Uh-huh” with the sudden shift in the direction of the conversation. Friendly as his tone of voice had been, and still was, there was hardened steel just under the surface of his question. Shawna shifted in her seat, felt a flutter in her stomach. She turned and saw that Ethan had not quite tuned in to the sudden course change. He usually was slow on the uptake. But got the details right when she didn’t. They had learned that about each other, had it pretty much down pat.

Sir Thomas hadn’t noticed or chose not to. He went right on, speaking in warmer tones as he reminded them both how they had first met, in the underground cavern of InterStellar’s Saturn Laboratory complex on the planet Verde. “You really brought me up short, young lady, with that magnificent defense of liberty you made on behalf of your people on Mycenae.” He thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I had been taken in, foolishly, by that wily and unscrupulous Verlana Merdeaux. And by my own misjudgment about how best to protect and advance the interests of the Federation.” He could afford to be a little transparent with these two who by their ages could almost be his grandchildren.

Shawna blushed deeply at this commendation coming from such a man. He noticed, waving a hand gently in her direction.

“Not at all young miss, or missus,” he said looking at Ethan, not sure of their exact relationship. For the 24th century, Sir Thomas was decidedly old school. He continued, “You should be proud of your sensitivity to the needs of others, your concern about the injustices in the world and particularly for the oppressed. And that is part of the reason why I have asked you here today. The other is, of course, your telepathy.”

So matter of fact, the way he said that last bit! Shawna was a bit taken aback and glanced over at Emmanuel to see if there was any reaction to the fact that she had just been outed as a telepath. People in general, particularly here on Earth, were afraid of telepaths. Emmanuel looked directly at her and smiled. She relaxed, tried to signal that she wasn’t reading anyone’s mind today. Which she wasn’t. Couldn’t, in fact. Though her range was extending, there were still many whose minds she couldn’t touch.

Sir Thomas was still speaking, “That is, your telepathy insofar as it has to do with the Telpher. Then, in an almost eloquent tone, he continued, “The Telpher is the machine that is going to dramatically change the way humans relate to one another. That’s our hope at least.” He’d been leaning forward on the couch and now sat back, letting out a small sigh. He’d been wondering of late whether his initial enthusiasm for the machine’s impact on humanity was perhaps a bit optimistic. He hadn’t gotten to his position by the exercise of naïveté. Returning to  a more sober recital, he said, “But a machine that is worthless without a telepath to operate it. A telepath like yourself, as you so ably demonstrated to me that fateful day under the mountain. I’ll never forget my first journey through the Telpher, with you holding my hand. On Verde one moment and the next moment, poof, on the planet Mycenae some 400 lightyears distant. I’m still marveling at that experience.” Emmanuel discretely cleared his throat, looking at his notes and, no doubt, the chronometer in his TASC implants.

Sir Thomas gave him a meaningful glance and continued, “So… The machine that holds the future of mankind has a human component. That’s actually a good feature for a machine, though one that will likely cause considerable angst at the beginning. Therefore, the first thing I’d like to do with you today is discuss Telpher logistics. To start off, do you have an idea of how many telepaths we are going to need if we want to spread Telphers throughout the galaxy? That is, if you have even thought about such a question.”

Shawna had thought about it, though not recently, embroiled as she was in her dissertation. “The simple answer is a lot. But the person best able to answer this is Hald Forsen, the inventor of the Telpher. There may be ways to reduce that number, though I don’t see how.”

“Yes, yes. We’ll speak with him. He’s on his way here from Verde just now. I had hoped he would be here at the same time as you, but it didn’t work out. But back to your answer. Do you mean one for every Telpher on every planet?”

“Possibly. You can’t really know for sure until a system of Telphers is set up and we start using them. Dr. Forsen can help us with that, but I’m pretty sure that a telepath is needed at least to set up the link between two planets, say, and then maybe monitor the link as people step through. Of course, you’d need people to regulate travel, keep it orderly, and so forth.”

“What about a hub and spoke system?” Ethan spoke up for the first time. “Could that reduce the number of telepaths needed?” He gave Shawna a confident look. She smiled in return. “I mean, it would make travel slightly more complicated, but still…”

Frist observed the unspoken communication between his two guests. He thought he knew what Ethan was getting at. “Ethan, I believe I understand what you are suggesting. Centuries ago, Earth had a similar system for jet airplane travel. A central hub served a number of desired travel locations by requiring that a traveler go from their origin to their destination by going through a hub. Two separate flight segments for the traveler. But the first segment flight, for example, effectively serves all other destinations from that point of origin. That reduced the number of planes and crews you had to have to serve all the desired travel locations. But how do you see that working for the Telphers? As I understand it, you have to have a telepath at every Telpher location regardless of whether travelers go through a hub or not.”

“Well, that’s the thing we need to find out. So far, the only Telpher link is the Verde-Mycenae one, and the only travel through that link so far has been by telepaths, or in the company of telepaths. What if we could have a hub that serves, say, six distant locations that are at the ends of six spokes radiating out from the hub. Then have just one telepath at the hub and no telepaths at the spoke ends. The hub telepath would set up and monitor all six links and you would just need traffic regulators out at the spoke ends to ensure there was orderly access.”

“Ethan, love, that’s brilliant!” After a moment’s thought she continued, “We can find out soon if a person can go through a Telpher link without a telepath going with him. You can try teleporting to Saturn Lab from Mycenae when we are home next month. I’ll set up the link, port through it myself, and wait for you on the other end. You…” she gave him an impish grin, “Do you think you’d be brave enough to step into the Telpher on Mycenae without me holding your hand?” She looked at her mate, hoped he realized she was teasing. He was much better than her at teasing. Then her grin faded. It would be no laughing matter to lose him somewhere in the 5th dimension. She turned to Sir Thomas and said earnestly, “I hope this will be possible. Otherwise, telepaths are going to get very tired going back and forth.” She said to herself, I hope I’m not getting overcommitted to this plan. Seeding the galaxy with Telphers isn’t exactly what I want to do with my life. Or, being tied to a Telpher portal. Or hub! God, that would be awful!

Frist smiled. That interaction between the two, the energy and intellect they brought to the issue, answered any lagging doubts as to the wisdom regarding the next part of why he had brought them here. He wanted to get to them before they launched out into the stars on less worthy missions. He had seen the dream in this young woman’s heart when he had met her. He hoped he could offer her a suitable compromise, something to feed her dream and help humanity at the same time. Putting hope and encouragement into his voice, he said, “Regardless of whether or not a hub and spoke system can reduce the number of needed telepaths, we’ll still need a lot.

“So now we come to the real reason for paying all that money to get you two here, put you up lavishly and give you the honeymoon I bet you didn’t get. Or maybe not one as lavish.” The corners of his lips turned up just a bit, almost wickedly.

That got their attention real fast. They both looked at Sir Thomas with sober expressions. They hadn’t felt guilty about the luxury of their visit until now. What was the catch?

Looking directly at Shawna, Sir Thomas said, “Shawna, first I’d like you to recall the Mycenean Accords which led to your people being given their rightful place in the galaxy. The Accords stipulated that InterStellar could manufacture the Telpher machines without restriction, but the selecting and training of telepaths for the Telphers must come from, or at least be approved by, those telepaths that then knew how to travel via the Telpher. At the time, there were just three of you, as far as I know. Commander Jana Anders, Dr. Sonja Bellesario and…yourself.” He paused. The silence was palpable. “Naturally, being committed as I am to getting Telphers out into the galaxy, I have been asking myself how to meet the Accords stipulation on telepaths. I have come up with a proposal on how to proceed and I want to put it before you to get your feedback. If you give me at least a general okay then together we can approach the other two telepaths to get their input and eventually come to a decision. How does that sound to you, Shawna?”

Shawna breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s fine Sir Thomas. I have no problem giving my opinion on what you have in mind, but I think that Jana or Sonja are in a much better position to help on that.” And why does simply getting my opinion on his idea merit an expensive vacation for Ethan and me? Fingers of suspicion began to thread through her heart.

“That’s great, Shawna. So here is my proposal: I have obtained permission from the Federation Senate and even funding to set up an independent commission to oversee the search and training of telepaths for the Telphers. Emphasis on independent. The commission will be truly independent, not beholden to the Federation for either its methods or results. The commission’s board of directors must have members from both Federation and non-Federation systems. To begin with, final approval of both the membership and the methods to be used by the commission will be subject to the three telepaths, you, Commander Anders, and Dr. Bellesario. The principal activity of the commission will be to direct and fund the search for telepaths and then arrange for their training and certification. Only certified telepaths will be permitted to operate Telphers. Funding for the commission will come from a no-strings grant from the Federation, all details and amounts made public, with an invitation to other parties to contribute as they wish. The grant capital will be invested, and the commission will derive operating funds from the investment returns. At first the commission would be informally organized, but in time I foresee a formal guild of Telpher operators. I even have a name for it: Portal Guardians Guild. At that point the Guild’s Board of Directors will have sole power to make changes in policy or operations.”

Seeing Shawna about to respond, he said, “Before you give me your feedback there are two other aspects to my idea that I would like you to hear. And consider. First, I invite you to be the first head of the Guild, at least during its formation and first few years of operation. Second, and more importantly, I want you to go out into the galaxy and search for telepaths. It’s a mission that only a few people could carry out, possibly only one—yourself. Commander Anders is a starship pilot, and I have a feeling that telepathy and the Telpher rather scare her. Dr. Bellesario is employed in a very different field from transportation and obviously enjoys her work. Though, I suspect, she has little trouble with telepathy.”

He sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. “Shawna, I know that you’re young and, in respect of what I am asking of you, inexperienced. Some of my closest advisors have pointed this out to me. But, they did not see your role in persuading me to abandon the illegal quarantine of Mycenae. They do not know you. They do not know your, um, lifemate, Ethan. They have not seen the relationship you two have and your partnership. I’m fully confident of your ability to visit inhabited star systems to find telepaths, and then help to train them. People who, like you, have the ability to communicate by thoughts. And, by extension, have the unique ability to mentally interact with the Telpher.” 

Though Shawna was encouraged by Frist’s confidence in her for such a mission she was alarmed at the magnitude of the task he was presenting, to say nothing about whether this was what she wanted to do with her life. She had been about to say something when his next words burned out of her mind any desire to decline his invitation.

“For the purpose of this mission we are going to give you your own spacecraft and arrange for a small crew. Further, we will send you to flight school so that you can skipper the craft and manage the crew.”

My own spaceship? Awed by the fantastic opportunity, she wasn’t able to speak. Finally, swallowing hard, she started to ask if he was sure about all this. Ethan’s hand on hers forestalled her question.

Ethan was far more sanguine in his response, more practical, especially given the discrimination and misunderstanding regarding telepaths on many worlds. “What about some kind of diplomatic cover, Sir Thomas?” he asked politely. “Seems to me that access to the different worlds will be greatly enhanced by some kind of official papers, even if this won’t be an official Federation effort. Which is your intent, if I understand you correctly. It will not be a Federation initiative, including the no-strings grant and the other, um, gifts?” He was also having trouble with this, particularly the spacecraft being given to them. If that’s really what he meant.

“That’s right, Ethan. I will arrange for some kind of diplomatic immunity or, for Federation worlds, full diplomatic status. Of course, on the Outer Worlds, what I can give you won’t mean much. And you wouldn’t want anything looking like Federation sponsorship. Diplomacy there will be up to your intuition, care, and personal approach. I have every confidence in you two for that. However, for a start, you’ll be going only to Federation worlds. I need to have that as a start to provide cover for your, ah, shall we say, more innovative later outreach efforts. We need all the worlds in the galaxy to have Telphers, not just the privileged few. That includes the Outer Worlds.”

These words were music to Shawna’s ears. As she had come out of the cultural confines and forced ignorance of the planet of her birth and upbringing, she had become increasingly aware that a significant portion of humanity was even more isolated from civilization, in a sense, than she and her people on Mycenae had been. But, unlike her people, many of those isolated systems, particularly the Outer Worlds as they were so facetiously called, experienced worse enslavement than her people would have been subjected to if the plans had gone forward for quarantining and raping Mycenae of its mineral riches. The plans for political enslavement  of Mycenae that the ‘wily and unscrupulous Verlana Merdeaux’ had roped Sir Thomas into. The Outer Worlds experienced an enslavement of poverty, substandard education, ethnic discrimination, joblessness, and a generally poor quality of life.

Shawna quieted her heart and cleared her mind. She asked, quite reasonably, “Where will I go to flight school? And when?” Beyond that concern she was also processing the challenge of finding telepaths on other worlds.

Sir Thomas answered her questions in reverse order. “I’d like to enroll you as soon as you finish your work at NASI. As to what school, I’m still looking into the best place. Probably a Federation Navy school, since the spacecraft is a retired Navy Science Research spacecraft that’s being retrofitted for this mission. A little larger than you may need, but it was the easiest for me to get my hands on.” Ethan noticed his wink at that last statement and wondered what it meant. One thing was pretty clear. Though he had gotten Senate approval for the idea and the grant, there were aspects of this that owed themselves solely to this man’s power and influence.

“You already have a spacecraft for us?” Her eyes widened with anticipation.

“Yes, we do. She’s at the Federation Navy base orbiting the Moon right now and will be coming to Earth Station Two in about a month. When she’s there I’ll arrange for you to shuttle up to see her.” He motioned Emmanuel to hand him a thin flex document, the kind used for official things, and handed it to Shawna. “For reasons that I believe you’ll appreciate if you think about it, as the words on the Deed you now hold in your hand state, you and Ethan are the sole Owners of Record. For those same reasons a transponder with new ident codes has been fitted to the ship as indicated on this deed. So, you’ll need to rechristen her.” Before Shawna had time to fully comprehend this news, he switched gears.

“Shawna, I know this is a lot, a very lot for you to get hold of. You and Ethan need to talk it over, sleep on it, before you decide to accept. From the way you’ve both spoken and acted today I’m confident that you will say yes. But you do not have to. There is no compulsion here. For you to take this position under duress would defeat your effectiveness. Neither you nor I want that.” Then, as what seemed like an afterthought but clearly wasn’t, he added, “It’s your own spacecraft and your own mission, your own lives. As I said, all the funding you will need will be funneled to the PGG and under your control. Where you go and what you do will be at your discretion and subject only to the PGG. There will be no official connection with the Federation. If you accept, you’ll be on your own.”

After their meeting with Secretary Frist, Shawna and Ethan somehow made it back to their hotel that evening, not sure how they had managed it given the daze they walked in. After hearing of the world that was being given to them, if they wanted it, followed by dinner hosted by Sir Thomas at a very expensive restaurant. Before bed they sat in the hotel suite talking the thing over. While on the surface there were few strings attached to this offer, there were some serious considerations. Shawna launched into them first, going from minor to more weighty matters.

She asked, “The spacecraft. Ours? Really?” She couldn’t quite believe it. A spacecraft all their own. And she to be her captain!

Ethan responded, “Yes, apparently.” Holding up the flex, he said, “I’ve read all the legal stuff on this Deed and the appendices that give the design specs for the ship. It’s legit. We now own a Klausen Ring starship. Rather a vintage design, not like modern a-grav spacecraft. Though it does have some a-grav in critical areas. But very space-worthy, maybe more so than modern craft. The fifty-meter Ring is a conventional double-deck, titanium alloy design typically used for vessels with less than 50 crew. Ten-second rotation period simulates Earth gravity. The Core is about 100 meters long and has an emergency operations deck and respectable cargo hold. Two shuttles for planetary landings and EVA. Escape pods. She may be an older lady, but fully equipped. She has a brand-new Alcubierre-Drive for hyperspace with main and backup fusion drives for insystem propulsion and station maneuvers. The A-D and the FDs are all latest design. She’s a sweet machine.” He could hardly wait to get his hands on the engineering systems.

Shawna took a deep breath. “Okay. What’s the catch? No…” She saw Ethan start to answer. “No! Rhetorical question. For me, but you can weigh in if you want. Here’s the catch: my life, our lives, are now decided in broad outline, committed. If we accept this, we are pledging ourselves to something so big it’s hard to fathom it. Dedicating ourselves to pioneering a new technology into the galaxy with the unspoken understanding that we will eventually take it to the margins of galactic society. How is it that this man has captured two of my most precious dreams—going out to the stars to discover their secrets, and improving the lot of marginalized people in the galaxy who have been left behind? And then used fulfillment of those dreams as a bribe to get me to help him with a project whose goals are arrogantly ambitious at best and unreachable at worst?  Oh, and let’s not ignore the guaranteed income and the gift of a how-many-billion credit spacecraft that I can fly anywhere I want—after he trains me to fly her. How can I refuse that?”

“Well, it answers one of our questions that we’ve been batting around for the last year or so.”

“What?” She gave him an incredulous look.

“What we’re gonna do with the rest of our lives.”

“Oh Ethan! My love.” She went over and snuggled up to him on the broad couch. “Don’t you want to have a family some day?”

“You want kids?”

She batted him. “Come on guy. You want that as much as me. But how…?

“Kids grow up on spaceships all the time. Some spend their entire lives on a ship. Traders—the true Spacers. They say it’s an exciting life, though rather cut off. Anyway, this ship we’ve been given is big enough for a family of six or seven children.” Deadpan.

“Ethan!! There’s no way…”

“Teasing, babe, tease…” He pulled her to himself. “Let’s practice the fundamentals first, okay?” Shawna was good with that. They were still sprawled on the deep plush couch in the morning, having never gotten into the gigantic bed.

Earth, Sol System; and Mycenae, Apollo System (54 Piscium). April – June 2384 GES

After returning to KC Metro the following day they waited a week to let the whole thing settle in their minds and hearts, knowing all the while what their answer would be. They wired an acceptance to Sir Thomas’ offer and began to make plans for the next phase of their lives.

A few weeks later, after finishing at NASI, they both went to Shawna’s home on Mycenae for a month vacation. While there, supervised by Hald Forsen at the Telpher in the Saturn Lab on Verde and Jana Anders at the Telpher in the Exeter Cave on Mycenae, they tested the viability of Ethan’s hub and spoke concept for the Telphers. They simulated a single telepath operating a Telpher in a central hub to control links to distant Telphers. The unknown variable was whether someone could teleport through a hub-spoke link without an accompanying telepath. Not without some trepidation, Ethan tried it. After Shawna ported from Mycenae to Verde, confirming operation of the Telpher link, Ethan stepped into the Telpher on Mycenae and emerged in the Saturn Lab complex, and into the waiting, anxious arms of his wife. The hub and spoke system would work!

Back on Earth they helped Sir Thomas establish plans for locating the first Telphers. Frist engaged selected GFSS advisors, both political and technical, people who shared Frist’s universalist vision. Hald Forsen participated in the more technical aspects of the planning. In the first round of deployments there would be six Telphers, each one set up as a hub with a resident telepath. Two were planned for on Earth (to satisfy GFSS Senate hawks), one in KC Metro, the capital of the North American Federation and the other in the Hague, the capital of the European Federation and of the GFSS as well. The others were to be in Verde City on Verde, in New Athens City on Mycenae, in Verloa on Alhambra, and in Imdah on Patros. After that it would be easier to set up Telphers on other worlds since resident telepaths would not be required. Additional hubs would eventually be needed. There was a limit to the number of links a single telepath at a hub could manage. They didn’t know what that limit was yet, though it was probably less than a dozen.

Pensacola, North American Federation, Earth. August 2384 GES – February 2386 GES.

Shawna and Ethan then moved to Pensacola for her flight training at the Federation Naval Base. Ethan did some consulting for Nova Asteroid while she was in class. Ethan’s work was more to prevent boredom than to support them, since a very adequate living allowances was already coming to them from the newly formed Guild.

Eighteen months later Shawna was ready to graduate. She had only the final oral exam session with one of the officer/instructors of the Naval Aviation and Space Flight School, Commander William Winata, FSF, Retired, known as “Willy” but only behind his back. Upon entering, Shawna quickly surveyed the Navy-grey room whose walls were devoid of any decoration save the Federation Navy Emblem behind the lone desk. Commander Winata was sitting in an antique oak chair that was so out of character for the space-age culture embodied by the naval force he served. Of Polynesian descent, Commander Winata’s ample muscular frame caused the old chair to creak as he leaned back in it. He silently perused her paperwork for long minutes. Finally he looked up and asked in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible, “So, Ms. Tang, just exactly what is it that you think gives you the right to command an interstellar spaceship?”

Shawna had dressed sharply for this session, had entered the room confidently. She had passed both the written tests and the sims with flying colors and had successfully soloed on an insystem trainer. This was the last step, the dreaded orals. There were several officers who might conduct the oral exam. According to the other cadets, she had drawn the toughest. She thought she had bolstered her courage sufficiently for this final step.

Now she froze, couldn’t answer at first. She had expected questions about flight techniques, emergency procedures, equipment specifications, personnel management, conflict resolution, and so forth.  She was ready for that. But why start out with a question like this? Was there something she was missing that this man had seen, something in her person perhaps? Something that no amount of training would perfect?

Maybe this is just an opening probe, she said to herself. The expected questions will come after I answer this one. Without offending him. That was the problem, of course. She knew the answer to his question but didn’t want to go there. Darkly, she thought his question was a reference to her pedigree, to her home world. Her answer might bring up a subject she was sure would be an uncomfortable one. Not that he was personally responsible. But his Navy was. The Federation had deployed naval warships in orbit around Mycenae to enforce the illegal actions to rob her people. She and her freedom fighters had exposed the plot, at considerable embarrassment to the Navy. One of the conditions of the peace agreement was why she was here. The Federation had agreed to send her and others out into the galaxy on a project that would bring all the neglected star systems into a single community of people. That was the hope, and that was the answer to his question.

In front of this legendary Federation Navy commander, however, Shawna feared it would start her off on the wrong foot to insist upon her right to head this mission, including commanding a starship. Of course, she wasn’t Navy and didn’t have to answer to them in any way, but her sponsors had wanted her to receive Navy training. She was grateful for that. But the Navy would be just about everywhere she would go. So to seem to be imperious with this man who had the final say in granting her a captain’s license and civilian commission was hazardous. Okay, I’ll just give him an innocuous response. Except… No! I can’t do that, even if it means failure. Despite a moment of panic she announced her truthful avowal. “Sir, it is that I want to serve humanity and to do so with my home-world background and particular talents requires that I lead an expedition out into the stars. An expedition that promises a means of bringing peace to our fractured existence.” As she spoke courage surged and she looked unflinchingly into his steel gray eyes.

Commander Winata gazed at her speculatively in silence, under bushy gray eyebrows, chewing on a toothpick or something. He grunted softly. The silence continued. Finally, he said, as if to himself, “This younger generation—all idealism and so little practical sense.” He paused, looked down at her papers, looked up again and continued, “But you seem to have more than just idealism… Even a touch of experience.” There was the thinnest line of a smile on his lips, “And pluck.” With that, he signed her papers. As he handed them back, he said in a soft voice, “Go get it done, Captain. And Godspeed.” He turned in his chair in silent dismissal.

“Thank you, sir! And thank you for the best wishes.” Her head was swimming as she walked out of that room. Gosh, what just happened? I was so scared of that man’s power to pour water on the fire of my hopes. Instead he has just added fuel to the flames!

Orbiting Earth, Sol System. March to July, 2386 GES.

While Starchaser stood in lunar orbit she was fully outfitted for her new mission. She received vital upgrades to propulsion systems and a thorough going over of all life-support, navigation, and auxiliary engineering systems. Then, coming to Earth, she obtained a new crew.

Though the hyperspace starship was outfitted for a crew of 24 without hot bunking, for her new mission there were no scientists on the ship and no experimental work planned. Telpher Project planners decided that a crew of fourteen would be sufficient. Fourteen humans, that is, and one shipmind. There would be two 12-hour watchshifts, mainday and alterday, staffed by seven persons each. Having two watchshifts separated the crew except during the two-hour shift change twice per day. This made achieving team unity possible but difficult. The two cohorts would need time to get to know one another. Shawna would devote shift change periods to getting to know her alterday crew better.

Ruby Hitchcok, Operations Officer, led alterday crew. Ruby, a tough, slightly florid ex-Marine, was responsible for general day-to-day operations of the ship, managing schedules and special work assignments. Nominally, she reported to Ethan who, as First Officer, was responsible for the safety and security of the entire ship, crew and equipment alike. In reality, Ethan let Ruby run her own show. She had more years in space than he did. On the alterday Bridge with Ruby were Abel Yhistani, Pilot; Felicia Hernandez, Second Navigation Officer; and Stefan Erling, Senior Comms Officer. Filling out Ruby’s crew were Stig (Jory) Jornet, Second Engineer; Tessita (Tess) Morgan, Ecosystem Engineer; and Porcia Tarkenson, Ship’s Doctor.

In terms of total years of experience in space, that of alterday crew preponderated significantly. This was by intention. It wasn’t that Shawna thought that her position as captain reduced the need for experience for mainday crew. Rather, since she felt responsible for the entire crew but wouldn’t normally be awake on alterday, she felt she could relax better with alterday crew being heavier on experience.

Shawna led mainday crew with backup from Ethan, her XO. The other two officers on the Bridge were Jase Welton, Chief Navigator and Tahnya Auk, Junior Comms Officer. Shawna felt lucky to have such a Nav as Jase. Shawna could navigate a spacecraft by herself within a solar system, but for interstellar warp she needed someone who knew the featureless shores of compressed Alcubierre space. Particularly since the Patros jump would be Shawna’s first piloting a starship. Jase had been navigating the galaxy all his life, born a spacer whose parents were spacers, galactic traders.

Starchaser’s Chief Engineer was Sapindra Noeh, with overall responsibility for all mechanical and structural systems. She went by Pindra to all who knew her. Toby Perrin, Systems Specialist, reporting to Pindra, was responsible for power generation & distribution, magnetic deflection equipment for cosmic radiation and all conventional electrical systems. Last on Shawna’s mainday crew, but certainly not least in anyone’s mind, was Sandy (Mac) MacAtee, Steward, who along with meal prep and diet monitoring managed the ship’s biosphere and food production systems.

Then there was Starchaser’s shipmind, without whom nothing would work. At least, not work well. ‘Ship’ had been part of the spacecraft from her initial manufacture and had been known by her former scientist crew only by that impersonal moniker. Shawna had renamed her Tabby, because her voice sounded a bit cat-like, at least to Shawna. Tabby was pleased with her new name. Shawna thought, Sometimes, scientists just have no imagination—at least about human things.

Pindra was Shawna’s closest friend after Ethan. She was a graduate of the North American Space Institute, as was Shawna. They had gotten to know each other at NASI during the martial arts lessons they both were taking. They had known instantly that their friendship would be life-long. Friendship aside, Pindra was a crack Alcubierre-Drive engineer with subspecialties in fusion drives, superconducting power systems, hydroponics and biometrics, and a lot of other stuff that Shawna was still learning about. Stuff they needed for survival during their galactic wanderings. It was fortunate that Ethan, with his engineering education and scientific mind, had been able to master the basics of Pindra’s resumé. With such a small crew, everyone needed a backup.

One of Pindra’s talents—not on her resumé—was weapons, both spacecraft and terrestrial. Shawna had walked in on Pindra unexpectedly one day as she was disassembling and reassembling a pocket-sized Stinger—a very nasty weapon. Pindra had hastily put the pistol away with an apologetic comment about guns being a hobby. Shawna hadn’t believed it was just a hobby. Later, during planning for the Telpher Project, Shawna had wondered at the ease with which she had been able to get Pindra assigned to her crew. Though joyful to have Pindra, Shawna was not so sanguine about the apparent reason. Shawna concluded that someone had wanted to give Starchaser some muscle if needed. Pindra was the muscle.

Theirs was a peaceful, and peace-building mission, so Shawna didn’t see how they’d ever need Pindra’s weapons expertise. She hoped not, anyway. Shawna would have to circulate with the general populace of the planets they visited in order to ferret out those who didn’t want to be found. Yes, there were some places in the galaxy where women did not enjoy the same respect as men and were at risk for harassment, or worse. But, if it was a matter of personal safety in those places, both she and Pindra were well able to handle themselves without weapons. Though, with the difference in height and weight, Pindra was much more of a lethal force than Shawna. The faint outline of a long scar from temple to jaw on the left of her face told Shawna that Pindra was battle hardened. As close as they were, Shawna had never asked about it. Shawna didn’t know how she got the scar. Didn’t want to know. Their hearts were joined fast in a friendship that needed no explanations. Shawna loved Pindra as the sister she never had. That was enough.

The fact that Starchaser itself was armed also bothered Shawna. Yes, there were pirates out there and, yes, they would eventually go out into sectors where the Federation Navy had only a cursory presence. So, Shawna had reluctantly agreed with Telpher Project planners, who had insisted on outfitting Starchaser with the latest in both defensive and offensive ordnance.

Chapter 3 – Plutonium

Patros Spaceport, Imdah City. September 4, 2386 GES.

“Hey, Jase! Hope you weren’t waiting too long. I got caught in traffic.” Having left Shawna and Pindra in Imdah City for their first foray into finding telepaths for the Telphers, Ethan was headed to his first meeting with his clients. Traffic was Ethan’s code word for the extra time he had spent with Shawna and Pindra at the hostel, and he figured Jase would guess as much. He’d dragged out his time with Shawna, knowing he wouldn’t be seeing her for a while. This was going to be the longest they’d ever been apart since they’d finalized their contract with each other. Married, was the term used on Shawna’s world.

“No problemo, son. Been enjoying the fresh air. Nice change from Station.” Jase’s voice was a soft drawl, reflecting the origins of his parents, the Blue Ridge Mountains on Earth. Jake had never been there, he was born and raised in space. To Jase, Ethan was a bright guy, but sometimes a little out of touch with what time it was. Not that Jase minded.

Jase was looking forward to this expedition into the mountains, an entirely new experience for someone who’d spent almost his whole life on bridges or in control cubicles of spacecraft large and small. At Ethan’s querying look he said, “Equipment’s right over there.” He nodded to the right with his head without turning. “Rented a nice a-grav dolly to run the stuff over to the Maglev terminal.”

“Good man!” Glancing at his chrono he said, “Let’s go then. We can easily make the next departure for Ookla.” The Imdah-Ookla Maglev would take them out to the mountains northeast of the large inland plain that was home to a major portion of Patros’ population. At a smaller city in the foothills Ethan’s client would meet them and take them by aircar to the secret site.

Ethan greatly admired this older space veteran, was glad to have him as their Nav. And, he hoped, in time as a genuine friend. Jase was not quite old enough to be his father. But he was older than Jana Anders, the Nav on the InterStellar starship Exeter. Jana had been a mentor at crucial moments in Ethan’s life—along with her friend and helmswoman, Joss Sommers. He’d needed their prods during the Mycenaean conflict to keep him on point. His relationship with Shawna had been rocky then—non-existent might be a better word—and Ethan had tended to let it distract him from what he needed to do. Which was to use his knowledge of transuranic elements to identify the mineral Shawna had discovered on Mycenae in hopes that they could use the information to expose the InterStellar-Federation plot to plunder her planet.

The mystery element turned out to be Copernicium-296. Astounding as the discovery of a naturally occurring superheavy element was, even more amazing was the fact that its crystalline perovskite form would generate an electric voltage in the presence of quantum spacetime fluctuations making it a source of limitless and very low-cost power. Copernicium-Perovskite quantum power arrays, manufactured on Verde, were being installed on planet after planet.

When Ethan’s field analysis equipment was safely stowed in a baggage car, Ethan and Jase settled themselves comfortably in the first-class compartment.

Jase gave Ethan a casual look. “Women safely set?” A kind of lazy inflection—Jase didn’t like to use too many words at once.

“Yeah…” Ethan glanced at his heads up, looking for a possible text from Shawna. Not there. He looked back to Jase, seated across from him, a slight wrinkle on his forehead.

“Something wrong?”

“No! No, not really. It’s just…”

“Just you’re concerned she’s not fitting into the mold you’ve planned for her?” It was a friendly dig, Jase smiled warmly. He’d only known Ethan for a few months, while getting ready for the mission back on Earth and then the three weeks they’d been in space. He’d watched Ethan and Shawna closely, seen the dynamic, begun to get a sense of the strengths and weakness of each of them. That was important in his trade: know your commanding officers and shipmates. But, in this business you didn’t find many successful leadership teams where the captain and first officer were lovers. They tended to fight too much for control or be too independent trying to guard turf.

Ethan and Shawna were a huge exception to the rule. They worked together well, matched each other’s weaknesses with corresponding strengths. Ethan was a little myopic and sometimes obsessed over making sure everything went according to plan. Shawna resisted that, rightly in Jase’s opinion, because he saw that Ethan could miss the big picture while Shawna thrived in that realm. Space was big; you needed a big-picture person to navigate it successfully. Yet, though Shawna saw most of what needed to be seen, she was something of a risk taker. Jase had no doubt she could handle herself in most situations but there were times when Ethan’s concern for detail and going slow were needed. That was good.

Jase had served on ships where there had been precious little attention to detail, to keeping things straight, or to the needs of fellow crew. When he had been younger, things like that hadn’t seemed to matter much. By now, however, he’d seen enough human shipwrecks, and even spaceship wrecks, to change his mind. Mostly, though, he liked Ethan personally and didn’t worry about any ill effects of Ethan’s slightly compulsive behavior on the success of their mission. In the short time he had known him, Jase had come to respect his integrity and genuineness. And his deep love for his mate.

Ethan looked up, his eyes widening. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. Funny. Someone else, a starship pilot, once said something very similar to me. It, uh, changed my whole way of relating to Shawna. Helped us get back together. But I guess I still have trouble getting outside of myself.” He thought of that time on the mountain with Joss Sommers, when she’d helped him learn to see people as separate beings in their own right, instead of imagined characters in the world of his mind.

Jase noticed the turned down corners of Ethan’s lips. “Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. However they go about the search, I’ve every confidence that those two spacers will be fine. So, let it go. Okay? And, to help you do that, tell me more about this expedition we’re on, what your clients have found and what they want you to do for them.”

“Okay,” answered Ethan. Jase was right: let it go. He relaxed back into the cushioned seat. “You know what RTGs are, right?” Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generators aka RTGs, generated electric power from the heat released by the decay of radioactive materials, converting the heat into electricity by the Seebeck effect. They were maintenance free sources of emergency power on most spacecraft.

“Sure do! And on at least one occasion my life and that of some shipmates depended upon the RTG in our ship.”

“And, you probably know that the radioisotope most commonly used is Plutonium 238?”

“Well, yeah.” Jase was less certain on that point but had never thought much about it. “Maybe you should tell me why. Or am I getting ahead of the story?” Jase knew that as soon as he had invited Ethan to tell him about his consulting work, he was in for a long and detailed accounting. But he was fine with that. He liked this young engineer and wasn’t threatened by his intellect. Jase, smart as Ethan, was educated in an entirely different field.

“There are other possible radionuclides, but PU 238 has become a standard. It has a reasonably long half-life of 87 years, meaning that it will last the lifetime of whatever equipment it is used to protect in emergency situations. When RTGs using this isotope were first used, centuries ago, the Plutonium was usually obtained from the spent fuel of nuclear fission power reactors. It required separation from other fission products, a costly process. When fission reactors fell out of use sources of the isotope dried up. Now enterprising companies operate special reactors built purely for the purpose of producing valuable radionuclides. This solved the supply problem, but not the cost. It is still expensive to separate PU 238 from spent fuel.

“That’s where our clients come in, Abacus Retrievals. Don’t ask me how they got that name for their outfit. It’s a start-up is all I know, with some wealthy investors behind it. They’ve staked out a claim on a nearly inaccessible piece of Patros real estate with unusual properties suggesting the presence of a valuable transuranic element. They’ve hired me to validate their claim and provide them with an engineering feasibility assessment as to its commercial potential. But here’s the fascinating part. They think they have found a source for PU 238. Of course, given its short half-life that’s impossible, unless…” Ethan quirked his lips and looked at Jase to see if he’d picked up where he was going. Jase’s inscrutable manner made that difficult. So Ethan continued, “But from the information they’ve sent me so far, I think it is possible. They may have found a naturally occurring nuclear fission reactor that is operating or has shut down within the last century. Either scenario would explain the existence of PU 238 as a reaction byproduct.”

Jase leaned forward, “Naturally occurring, you say? How does that happen? A nuclear reactor would require a lot of human engineering to achieve, wouldn’t it?”

“Well, believe it or not, Mother Nature is a pretty good engineer. And, if what Abacus have is a natural reactor, it won’t be the first discovery of one. Turns out that on Earth, in Gabon in western Africa about two billion years ago, there were several small fission reactors that formed and operated for about a million years. As to how this could occur, geologists examining the deposits of fission products in the area came up with a scenario that seems to make sense. It is an area where there are significant deposits of uranium. During Earth’s evolution uranium was uniformly deposited in Earth’s crust. Later, as the planet formed, conditions changed causing the uranium to dissolve in ground water and then be transported by geological processes to form higher concentrations of the ore at the Gabon site.

Naturally occurring uranium consists of two isotopes, U 238 and U 235. The isotope that is fissile is U 235 and you need a concentration of about three to five percent to be able to sustain a nuclear reaction. When Earth was young the percentage was around thirty percent, and after about two and a half billion years it had decayed to about three percent. As I’m sure you know, when a uranium atom spontaneously fissions, or breaks apart, neutrons are released. With sufficient atoms around—usually referred to as a critical mass, you get a chain reaction that becomes self-sustaining.” Ethan paused and smiled, inviting Jase’s reaction.

“Critical mass and self-sustaining, eh? Like a bomb?”

“Well, not quite. The reaction is the same, but you need about ninety percent enrichment of the U 235 to make an uncontrolled reaction like a bomb. But in the Gabon reactor there would have been no way to produce a chain reaction without another very essential element.”

“Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Water.”

“Water? How does water do that?” Jase leaned forward, interest sharpening his attention. He was thoroughly engaged with Ethan’s story now.

“Well, remember that when an atom of uranium fissions spontaneously, it produces a couple of neutrons which, if captured by another atom, will sustain the reaction. The key words are if captured. It turns out that the neutrons ejected by a fissioning uranium atom are too energetic, too fast to be captured. You need something to slow them down—moderate them. That’s what the water does, slows down the neutrons enough to allow them to be captured by another atom.”

“This sounds a little complicated. How do you get a geological structure that holds both uranium atoms and water?”

“Layers of uranium ore, sandstone and impermeable shale layers within granitic uplifts that composed the mountain ridges in Gabon.  Ground water saturates the sandstone and moderates the nuclear reaction. In that location there occurred the unique combination of uranium, water and physical conditions that supported the chain reaction.”

“Wouldn’t water boil away as the reaction started up and produced heat?”

“That’s exactly right! But in the case of the peculiar formation there, the steam rose, cooled against the shale layers, condensed back to liquid water, which sank again to the uranium pockets. There was clear evidence that the reaction cycled on and off over about a three-hour period. About one-half hour of fission reaction followed by two and a half hours of cool down.”

Jase’s lips formed a slight oh. “Fascinating! So, I suppose this was something you learned about in school?”

“Hardly. I grew up and went to school on Krantoa, far from Earth. And Krantoans aren’t too keen on Earth history. Or culture, for that matter. No, when I was trying to understand the data that Abacus sent me—after signing an NDA, I might add—the only explanations I could come up with was some kind of nuclear reaction. I’d never heard of the Gabon natural reactor, but some searching of the Net turned it up. I was just as amazed as you are. By the way, it appears that if this is the explanation, the reaction is still going on at the Abacus site. That’s why there is so much excitement on the part of Abacus.”

“Okay…not sure I get that.”

“Remember that PU 238 is one of the reaction products of uranium fission reactions, and…”

“…And since PU 238 has a short half-life, if the reactor there wasn’t still operating there wouldn’t be much of the isotope left after a hundred years or so.” Jase finished the sentence for him, a broad grin animating his angular features.

“Yes, and not only that. Currently the only sources of PU 238 are man-made reactors. A find like that in Gabon would eliminate the cost of building a reactor. Of course, there would be mining and extraction costs and that is one of the things they want help with. So, if the site we’re headed to has natural reactors the Abacus people could make a lot of money harvesting PU 238.”

“Yeah, and if there are natural reactors there, how’re we going to be protected from the other nasty radiation produced?”

“Well yes, of course. In Gabon, the reactors were a couple of kilometers underground, so not dangerous on the surface. Abacus have developed robotic vehicles that can do the excavating and retrieval of rock and soil samples in the vicinity of the possible reactors. We’ll be a safe distance away.”

Base Camp, Mountains West of Ookla, Patros. September 2, 2386 GES.

It was two men and a woman who met them at the Ookla maglev station. They had a large aircar, which one of the men drove; his name was Sando. The woman, Felicity, seemed to be in charge. Lighter skinned than the two men, she was thin and dour faced, not at all what you’d expect her to look like given her name. The other guy, Freddie something or other, was lugubrious in the extreme so Ethan couldn’t get much out of Felicity on the way up. Freddie insisted on filling them in on all the odd and absurd features of the local culture. Ethan was glad that Freddie turned out to be the gofer and wasn’t involved in the ensuing technical discussion. Felicity dismissed him when they arrived at Base Camp, as they called it, and she and Sando, the one who drove the car, escorted Ethan and Jase into a simple but large Quonset hut perched on a broad shelf that gave way to a gradual decline into a narrow valley that was home to a river. As they walked to the hut Ethan noticed an area of excavations about halfway down to the river and supposed that was where the reactors were buried. All about him were large trees with clear trunks extending tens of meters into the air and topped with dense fronds and what looked like large nuts. He recognized them as being like palm trees he had seen on Earth once when he and Shawna had visited the southwest coast of North America during school break. At an elevation of almost a kilometer, the air was warm and balmy, almost tropical, owing to their location near the planet’s equator.

The inside of the hut was surprisingly commodious. They went into a conference room sporting cushioned chairs, bright paintings on the walls, and expensive holovid equipment for projecting data and calculations. Ethan was gratified to know that the high rate he was charging for his services would be easily absorbed by these folks if they could spend this much on field offices in a such a remote region. He supposed there was one or more micro-fusion reactors nearby to supply power. There was likely to be subsurface water nearby as well, given the need for it for the nuclear reactions. If it was well water, Ethan hoped they checked for irradiated substances before drinking it.

After making their guests comfortable with drinks and a chance to decompress, Felicity spoke up from the head end of the conference table. “Well, Dr. Styrnak, it is a pleasure to welcome you to Base Camp Ookla, as we call it. So, formal introductions.” She glanced at a virtual that Ethan thought was a recording device. “I’m Felicity Fields, COO for Abacus Recoveries. Beside me here is Dr. Sando Lanz, our Chief Science Officer. We didn’t get a chance to converse on the way up.” A small snort from Sando interrupted her momentarily. “But I trust your trip here was without incident.”

“Yes, Dr. Fields, our trip was fine. So, formal introductions on our end. Beside me is Jase Welton, our spacecraft navigator. He has a strong science and technology background and will be assisting me in making measurements and operating equipment. And, please, it’s mister Styrnak, not doctor. My expertise comes from actual hands-on work over many years, not sitting in school classrooms. Not,” he quickly added, “that schooling isn’t important. I just wanted to get out in the field as soon as I had enough education to know what I was looking at and what to do with it. So, I hope that what I can do for you here will be consistent with my resume of successes in the field.”

Felicity smiled, the first time she had done so. “Just so, Mr. Styrnak. I appreciate and admire your ability to educate yourself. I’m sure you know that we enquired extensively in all the major engineering venues of the galaxy for the expertise we needed. Your name came up repeatedly. So, to move right along, would you like to give us your preliminary thoughts on what we have here. Based on the material we sent to you, of course. The actual proof will be in examination of the excavations that are ongoing.”

“Okay,” Ethan responded. “I’ll jump right in. First, let me say that I’ve made notes on my analysis so far and I have them here on my tablet. Later, if you give me access to your Net I will transfer them. That will also be the means by which I send you my final report. I trust that will be okay.” Both of them nodded yes, so he continued. “To get right to the bottom line, all the evidence you have sent points to a rather amazing discovery you’ve made. It appears that this area is the site of a natural nuclear fission reactor.” Ethan paused, noting that his claim elicited no surprise from Lanz. So, looks like they have already figured that out and want independent confirmation. “Moreover, supporting the seeming improbability of such a find, there is evidence of another natural reactor on another planet.” Ethan stopped again as Lanz’ smile disappeared. He saw Lanz’s hand about to go up. Hah! Got them on that one. He grinned, “Before you worry about being upstaged on your find, let me assure you there is no danger of competition. The other natural nuclear reactor is on Earth, the only other known site in the galaxy of a similar phenomenon. And it stopped operating about two billion years ago. Any Plutonium 238, for example, that the reactor produced has long since decayed away. What you have here, and I must emphasize that this still bears confirmation, is unusual not just because of its rarity in the galaxy, but because the reactions appear to be ongoing still. The geology at the Gabon West Africa reactor was such that neutron poisoning shut it down after some hundreds of thousands of years. That, and the depletion of the fuel.”

Felicity asked, “What is neutron poisoning?” She looked at her CSO, but he shrugged.

Ethan’s smile was modest. “A nuclear fission reaction requires a sufficient quantity of neutrons to sustain it. Some of the byproducts of the reaction, samarium and boron and others, are very efficient absorbers of neutrons. As such, they eventually shut down the reaction. We call that neutron poisoning.”

“So,” Lanz spoke up, “We need to determine how soon that would happen here.”

“Yes, and that’s top of the list of things I want to do for you—find out the level of poisoning here. I’ve brought with me the necessary equipment to do so. I am hoping you can bring up to the surface appropriate core samples from the reaction zone.” He noted Lanz’s affirmative nod and Felicity’s satisfied smile and continued. “Other top items for investigation, of course, are the extent of the reaction zones, the percentage of U 235 remaining in those zones to understand how much longer the reactor will operate, and the nature of the geology around the zones. That latter will help determine the cost of extracting the PU 238 from the reaction site.”

Lanz spoke up again, his tone clearly admiring. “Your research into the ancient reactor on Earth is very interesting. Were you able to find out how large the reactor zone was?”

“Yes, that information is available if you know where to look for it. It turns out there were fifteen separate reactors in that region. Some were small. One at least was quite large, measuring seven thousand square meters in area and up to ten centimeters in thickness. That is a large volume of fissile material and would have produced a lot of plutonium.”

“Fifteen reactors! That is good news. It may mean that there will be others here beside the one we’ve found.”

“Yes, and in anticipation of your desire to look for them, I have brought equipment to do that. If there are any more here, and I suspect there is a high probability of that, then we should be able to find them.”

“What equipment would that be?”

Ethan knew this might be a trick question, but he didn’t mind. “Sensitive thermal measuring equipment. Sensitive thermometers if you will.” He smiled. “But that’s how you found the one you did, isn’t it? The ground was warmer in that area and a little excavating got you close enough to the reaction zone to detect the ionizing radiation emitted by the fissioning atoms, principally gamma radiation.”

“Just so, Mr. Styrnak, or almost that. But, in fairness, the question was not altogether what it may have seemed to you. Detecting fractional degrees of temperature differences will not be easy and I thought that perhaps you had something more ingenious. We got lucky because, as you will see tomorrow when we go down to the site, there is a narrow defile in the hillside, a cleft that has opened due to erosion I believe. Local people here knew that heated air came up out of the cleft and when we heard of this we came to investigate. You can figure out the rest. We purchased this entire mountain for almost nothing and began more detailed investigations. When we had a good feeling of what we might have we brought you in, both to confirm what we thought we had and to help us determine whether there is sufficient PU 238 there and what the costs will be of extracting it.”

At this, Felicity said, “I think this is enough for today and we’ll pick it up again tomorrow with a visit to the site. I’m sure you’d like to get settled. We have accommodations for you in the back,” she motioned behind her. “There is a small food court with replicators and even a real stove here as well, so please feel free to use it. I’ll also get you set up to access our local Net so you can transfer your notes. You’ll be able to communicate with the main Patros Net in case you need to contact other members of your team. I understand your mate is the captain of your spacecraft.” Her expression was indecipherable though not the emphasis of her words.

Base Camp, Ookla Mountains, Patros. September 16, 2386 GES.

The work at Base Camp went smoothly for two weeks, though operations were forced to stop for three days due to a tropical storm and the muddy aftermath. It was not an easy place to get around. But Ethan was able to carry out most of his tasks. He had examined more than two dozen core samples around the area where the rising steam had been noticed. The results had been very promising. Ethan had completed all but the final task of looking for additional reaction zones and finalizing his report. Because of the weather delays, he determined that it would take another week. So far, his clients had been very pleased with his work and Ethan was buoyed at this.

When Ethan texted Shawna that he’d be gone another week he’d gotten a one-word response: “Oh.” And no smiley, either. That meant he was going to have some fence mending to do. Sometimes I wish she’d cut me a little more slack on my job. It’s not like her project is the only thing happening on this journey. Returning to their shared room in the hut, he hadn’t realized how glum he looked.

“Something up, bud?” Jase was in no way nosey, but since their friendship was growing, he felt he could involve himself at a more personal level than when aboard Ship.

“Oh, nothing. I’m in the doo-doo with Shawna over having to stay another week.”

“What? She have a fit or something?” Jase didn’t see Shawna as the kind of person who would do that, at least for something like this. He thought it might be helpful to draw Ethan out. He sensed that the two were still working out what it meant to be permanently attached to each other. That’s why he had never committed himself to a love relationship—it took a lot of work. That, and the fact that he was in space all the time and it took a special kind of individual to want to share that with him. He’d never found one. Correction: when he was young, he’d found one and lost her because he hadn’t understood how a woman’s heart worked. He thought he had learned some things by now and hoped that maybe he could share those with Ethan.

“Nope. No fit. Just one word. ‘Oh.’”

“That’s all she said?”

“Yep. That’s it.”

“Hey, that’s really good.”

“How do you figure? She could have been more understanding. I explained the reasons.”

“Listen Ethan, most women, even educated, professional and accomplished women like Shawna, don’t care about reasons when they’re in love. And that’s what you’re hearing. She’s in love and she wants her lover back.” Jase stopped and peered at his young friend, hoping that he wasn’t transgressing a developing relationship. He wasn’t. “So, here’s what I think. If she had said something like, ‘Hey that’s okay, I’m having a good time, see you when you get back,’ then I’d be a little worried. Saying what she did, just an ‘Oh’ means she’s miffed, of course, but she’s not going to tell you why. You’ve got to figure that out for yourself and then let her know you understand—even if you can’t at the moment do anything about it. So maybe you’ll figure out that she was counting on you being home because she wants, you know…” Here Jase faltered. That would be going too far.

But Ethan picked it right up. “Yeah, I know. And I want it too. So, let’s hope I can finish this work here sooner than expected.”

Jase smiled and gave Ethan a high five. “Amen to that.”

As hoped, they completed the work in the extra week and were back in Imdah for the big event, the dedication of the Patros Telpher.

Imdah City Center, Imdah, Patros. September 24, 2386 GES.

It was a big day in Imdah on Patros where the first Telpher on the planet was to be started up and opened for civilian travel. Ethan had returned the evening before, and they hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. But the excitement overtook Shawna during a brief breakfast with him as she explained to Ethan all that had led up to this day while he was gone. Pindra was quiet during most of the meal but, noting Shawna’s nervousness, had characteristically said to her as they got up from the table, “You’ve got this, girl. Take it and run!”

Shawna had trained Keera as the first Portal Guardian for the Imdah Telpher. She excelled in her training, however, so Shawna was not too concerned.

During training Shawna had experienced a troubling glitch in which she was momentarily stuck in the Telpher field, neither here nor there. Following standard protocols, she was setting up a link between Imdah and KC Metro on Earth before allowing Keera to attempt the port. The experience was unsettling because immediately when she entered the Imdah Telpher there had been the momentary sense of another being, or presence, surrounding her and, it seemed, almost preventing her exit from the Telpher in KC Metro. Ken Jastrow there had noticed the strained expression on her face when she ported through. Her port back to Imdah was without incident.

The first travelers from Patros to Earth had been chosen by lottery. The Torlit family would be the first. Mrs. Torlit and her two children would be traveling from Patros to KCMetro that day and would meet Mr. Torlit on Earth where he had been on business for some months. Mother and children had arrived at the Telpher Transit Center with a great fanfare in a motorcade composed mostly of politicians and bureaucrats. Keera was a native of Patros and rode with the Torlits, the Imdah mayor and the planetary governor in the first limousine.

After a series of speeches and introductions that for Shawna were a waste of time, if not boring, she and Keera ascended the Telpher platform. The Torlits followed. As they passed her, Mrs. Torlit informed her children that these women were Telpher Portal Guardians. They stared.

Before the TTC opened for business Keera had earlier that day travelled to Earth via the Telpher to confirm the link. Now Keera stood by the Telpher portal and Shawna entered a booth with a transparent window. Shawna closed the circuit breaker that allowed the silent Cn-P quantum power arrays to supply power to the Telpher. A faint glow lit the edges of the spherical enclosure. From the booth, Shawna signaled the portal was open. Ethan sat in the audience, glowing with pride for his mate.

Normal procedure called for just one person at a time to go through the portal. For a small family, such as the Torlits, it was possible for all to go through at once, as long as all the members of the family were in close physical contact with each other. Mrs. Torlit took the hand of her oldest who then held the hand of the younger. For this first journey, though strictly unnecessary, Keera would accompany the Torlits. It was mostly to comfort the very nervous travelers but also just to be sure that there were no misfortunes. Keera took Mrs. Torlit’s other hand and led them all through the portal. It seemed only moments later that Keera reappeared with a wide smile. She had taken her first travelers across hundreds of lightyears of space. The assembled crowd broke into cheers.

Later, in the hostel, Shawna collapsed exhausted on the bed. She told Ethan about the mysterious feeling she’d had when she had been training Keera. There was something ominous about her experience that neither of them could put their finger on.

PART 2

I am an invisible man … I am a man of substance, of flesh and bone, fiber and liquids—and I might even be said to possess a mind. I am invisible, understand, simply because people refuse to see me.

Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man.

The idea that men are created free and equal is both true and misleading: men are created different; they lose their social freedom and individual autonomy in seeking to become like each other.

David Riesman, The Lonely Crowd.

Chapter 4 – Bandor

Tenant Farm Outside Serenity City, Achor, Versent System, Outer Worlds. October 2364 GES.

“Why are we moving?”

“Shush, boy! Go sit by the Burc tree and try to stay out of the way.”

“But I want to know why. Anyway I don’t want to leave here. I like this house. I like the yard. I have friends here.”

“Just go, Ban. You’re in the way.” Lissa wasn’t usually so harsh with her youngest boy. She was sorry when she saw the hurt look on his face. “I’m sorry, little guy. It’s just… It’s just really difficult for us right now.” She put a hand to her stomach. The baby had kicked. A happy thing to look forward to—if it wasn’t for worrying about how they’d make ends meet. She softened her tone, “Go on now and maybe later there’ll be a treat for you.” She ruffled his unruly shock of finely stranded black hair, noting the graceful fingers of his hands—not well suited to harvesting corn. But that was their livelihood.

The treat sounded good but didn’t help Bandor understand. They won’t tell me because I’m just a kid. It’s not fair!

Lissa watched her second child as he walked away. He was a scrawny kid by all accounts, gangly and uncoordinated. But the mother’s eyes saw in his features a handsome man when he reached adulthood. From schooling him, she knew he had a depth of understanding beyond his years. His honey-colored skin was typical of the people who had settled his planet. She’d tried to cure his accent when he spoke Standard, an accent that suggested the region of Earth his people had come from. They hadn’t been popular there. Like all of his people, his eyes were polychromic in color, different variations of hazel. His were unusual, however, their dark amber fading outwardly to metallic blue with gold specks.

Bandor went and sat under his most favorite tree in the whole yard. He thought, I like it here because from this place you can see the double suns of our planet rising exactly between the two largest mountain peaks on just one special day. My birthday. Bandor knew why there were two suns. His planet, Achor, went around two stars. Achor was the fifth planet orbiting the binary star system cataloged in the FSD as alpha- and beta-Versent. Versent was a system of more than 20 planets and planetoids on the edge of the known galaxy. It was in a sector of space referred to as the Outer Worlds. Sometimes facetiously, as in ‘out of sight out of mind.’

Achor’s trip around the two stars was called an orbit, and Achorans said things like, “We’ll do that next orbit.” Bandor had just turned six, six orbits that is. Most everyone else in the galaxy used the Galactic Standard year to mark off a person’s age and Bandor was eight years old on his six-orbit birthday. But most people on his planet didn’t want to use the Federation Standard. They hated the Federation, though Bandor wasn’t quite sure why. So, even though by his planet’s calendar he had turned six orbits, eight was a bigger number, and better for that reason. He decided to stick with Standard. Anyway, with what was happening today inside the small farmhouse they called home, he realized that never again would he see the two suns rise between those distant peaks on his birthday.

It was well past sunrise, the heat of the day upon the verdant fields of his family’s farm. They were sharecroppers. That’s what his mum said. Bandor didn’t know what that meant, except that they had to harvest the corn in the heat of summer and the wheat in the dead of winter. And then give it all away. That’s what it sounded like, anyway, when his pop came home from the market cussin’ about raw deals or something. And it was hard work. And he had to help, shucking corn and what not. And that’s unfair too ‘cause I have to work just like JB who knows why we’re leaving. His big brother, JB, knew and wouldn’t tell him.

After a while Bandor got bored and wandered back around the front of the farmhouse where neighbors were helping the Soliman’s move their stuff out of the house and into a waiting land crawler that would take them and their belongings away. Okay, since they won’t just tell me what’s going on I’ll find out the other way. He snuck back around the corner of the house and settled behind a bush where they couldn’t see him.

His parents and their friends were talking to one another as they moved stuff. Bandor was too far away to hear their spoken words. But he could hear what they were thinking. His spot behind the bush was close enough for his mind to be flooded with a lot of angry thoughts. Things like: ~It’s hard enough settling on this world without the Federation making our produce less competitive against the output of other worlds. Then there was a thought that Bandor recognized as his father’s. ~Old Cronk’s gonna’ just hire the scamps that hang around the town square to harvest the crop then pay them half what he gives us. Bandor knew Cronk was the Owner, the man who owned their land and house. Then Bandor picked up what he thought was one of the neighbor’s thoughts as she talked with his mum. ~Poor Lissa! They have such a nice place here. And now they’ll have to move into a tiny flat in town. I wonder what Jud will do for a living?

He’d never heard the word telepathic and wouldn’t have known what it meant if he had. His parents didn’t know that about him, and usually he was so scared of getting in trouble if they found out that he didn’t try it much. Only his brother JB knew and how he had found out was an accident.

Bandor sometimes listened to JB’s thinking, mostly out of spite. One day JB was thinking about the girl he had been with the night before. And it wasn’t just words coming into Bandor’s head. Pictures. Scary at first, then funny! He got an image of JB lying on top of the girl, without any clothes on. And they were moving funny. Without caution he went up to his brother and asked him why he was thinking about naked girls.  For Bandor that was just a plain yucky thing to think about when there were so many other great things to think about. Like how the distant mountains got there. Or why the two suns of his world weren’t the same size and why sometimes the smaller one seemed to get swallowed up by the bigger one. Well, JB hadn’t appreciated the question at all and accused Bandor of spying on him. So Bandor had to tell JB how he knew and when he did his brother’s eyes went wide as the moon.

JB got much friendlier after learning about Bandor’s gift. Gift was what JB called it. Bandor didn’t see how it was a gift since he’d had it all his life that he could remember. And anyway, nobody gave it to him so how could it be a gift?

Suddenly Bandor was aware of someone behind him. He turned. It was JB. Bandor wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“What’re you doing, Ban? Huh?”

“Nothin’. Just sitting here.” He scrambled to his feet.

“Behind a bush?” He put his hand under Bandor’s chin, forcing him to look up at him. “Ohh…I know. Listening again, aren’t you?”

“No I wasn’t JB, honest.”

“Yes you were. I can see the look in your eyes. All unfocused. You should learn to hide what you’re doing better. We can’t have people guessing what we’re doing. Can we?”

“Guessing what, JB?” He felt a wave of panic in his stomach. He knew what was coming. He tried to get away, but JB caught his shirt and pulled him close to himself.

“You know what, Ban.” JB whispered conspiratorially, though there was no one close enough to hear them. “What we talked about the other day.” He released his grip on Bandor’s shirt and smiled broadly, patting him on the shoulder. “Hey, you want to come to our meeting? Me and Jac and Tod and some others are going to do some planning. We’ll let you be a part of it.”

Bandor’s heart swelled at being given a chance to be with the big boys. This was the first time JB had invited him to come. He knew JB and his friends got together secretly a lot, but he had never been asked to come. This was his chance and he hardly hesitated. “Yes, JB! I want to come. But how’re you going to explain it to mum and pop?”

“That’s no problem. I’ll tell mum I’m taking you into town to see the new place. She’ll be glad to get you out of the way. I heard her complaining about you getting underfoot. That’s why I came looking for you. Not spying on you, kid! Really.” He gave Bandor a friendly shove. “Not like some people I know.”

Bandor did not believe that was why JB had been searching for him. He looked down at his feet and studied the small stones that made up their yard.

“Hey, just kidding Ban. C’mon. Let’s go tell the prison guards where we’re going.”

Bandor smirked. Prison guards was what JB had taken to calling their parents. Bandor wasn’t sure why he called them that. It was just funny. Like a lot of things JB did and said. And thought. Bandor didn’t know how to block thoughts from others, but he didn’t make a practice of spying on his brother. He didn’t tell JB that. It was something he could hold over him. And JB seemed to be awfully careful around him lately.

His brother was 12 orbits and to Bandor was an adult, though officially on Achor you had to be 15 to be an adult. Bandor worshipped him. But JB didn’t want him around most of the time. It hurt Bandor’s feelings, but he didn’t let on. He wanted to be tough, just like his brother. Men had to be tough, just like JB kept telling their pop. Lately anyway. They’d had a huge shouting match one night about it and his mum made Bandor go to his room. It was something about the Owner complaining about higher taxes and demanding something from his pop and JB telling their pop to stand up to the jerk. Then they both had cursed the Federation for its piracy, whatever piracy was.

Through hard work and irrigation, Achor’s settlers had turned their planet’s rich alluvial soil and temperate climate into a profitable export business. Food products began to enter Federation markets at hard to beat prices. Rich vanadium bearing deposits were discovered on Endor, an uninhabitable companion planet about ninety million klicks sunward. Later, lithium salt deposits were found on the high plateaus south of Serenity City. Achor’s emigrants, accustomed to low wages on Earth, flooded the galactic market with the valuable minerals.

Achor was a richly endowed planet that the Federation should have welcomed. It didn’t because the original settlers refused to join the various cartels that existed to keep prices high enough to support the lavish lifestyle of the galaxy’s Inner Worlds corporate barons. Consequently, Achor’s competitors, primarily Federation members, were given subsidized shipping rates and tax breaks to enable them to compete with Achor’s lower prices. Rich Achor mine owners responded by reducing ore shipments, causing prices to rise for galactic manufacturers whose products used the scarce metals. In response, the Federation Senate instituted high tariffs on the produce from Achor’s rich alluvial plains and high-country orchards. Corn, wheat, barley, soy, fruit, and liquor. Enforcement of wholesale price controls for materials not available on Achor, such as textiles, was lax.

To make matters worse, Achor was accused of harboring terrorists who were destroying Federation facilities on member planets. Recent acts of sabotage of off-world shipping company warehouses and docks in Serenity City lent support to the accusation. Federation lenders wouldn’t invest in manufacturing plants on Achor, saying it was too risky.

Underlying all was the ugly specter of racism, having followed Achor’s people from their Earth origins. The result for Achor was political and economic isolation from the galaxy at large, and a festering discontent and rancor that infected the younger generation of Achorans.

Serenity City, Achor, Versent System. January 2371 GES.

“Shh, Bandor! You’re making too much noise.” Bandor quickly dropped his voice to a whisper. He was excited at being allowed to go with JB and his friends on an adventure. That’s what JB had said it was. Bandor figured it was more than just a simple adventure, but he let go of any misgivings he had. He was twelve years old now. This was the opportunity he had long wished for.

The four boys slowly crept up behind the InterStellar shipping dock where imported materials and supplies not produced on Achor were unloaded and containerized for transshipment across the planet. They watched in silence as the supervisor went round to each container checking its contents against a requisition order and then securing the container with a coded entry.

JB whispered to Bandor, “Now, guy, here is your part in the adventure. That’s a secret code the super is entering. We think he’s reading it from the manifest as he enters it. So, he’s thinking about those letters and numbers, right? Can you listen to his thoughts and hear what he is thinking?”

“Yeah, JB, I can do that. But why do you want me to do that?”

“Just do it! I’ll tell you later, okay?”

So, Bandor focused his mind, Trying to ignore the anxious thoughts in his brother’s head and directing his telepathic attention to the super. He heard the man’s thoughts: ~Let’s see, A,6,7,J,5,Q,7,0,G,V,2,2. The man paused and punched keys on the container dataport, glancing at the manifest as he did so. He paused. The interface lit up and the man seemed to be silently reading what he saw: ~A,6,7,J,5,Q,7,0,G,V,2,2. Okay, checks. With that, he closed the dataport access plate and walked back to his office. It was the last container he had to check that day. Bandor scribed the sequence on the pad that JB gave him. He looked up at his brother, basking in the warm glow that his brother’s approval gave him.

“Bandor, you did great! Awesome! Now, you go on home, and I’ll come see you later tonight to let you know how things work out.”

“But I want to be in on the next part of the adventure.” He guessed that the next part had to do with JB and his friends opening up the containers and stealing some of the stuff in them. Goods shipped in from off world that would be traded for Achor’s abundant produce. But what would they do with the stuff? They probably didn’t need most of those things. He wondered how stealing from off-world traders was important to JB. But JB said the reason they were poor was because Federation rules allowed the traders to steal from Achorans. His pop said that also.

“Sorry dude, the next part is grown up stuff. You’ve got to be older for that part. But we’ll be sure to let you know what happens.”

“But…”

“Shh… Act natural! The super’s coming out and locking up. We don’t want to attract his attention.” The four boys sauntered away without looking back. The super got into his aircar and took off, not noticing them.

“Bandor.” JB took hold of his arm. “Go on, now. You need to get home before mum wonders about you. I promised her I’d get you back before dinner. So, scoot!”

With a small groan Bandor shuffled off, looking back over his shoulder from time to time, tracking the three older boys as they walked toward the noisy downtown section of their city. It was hard to believe that his brother only liked him for what he could do, the telepathy, and not just himself, a person, a brother. Was that true?

Bandor’s parents had moved into a small flat on the city’s outskirts where Bandor had to share his bedroom with JB. He didn’t like their new home. It wasn’t a home at all. There was no yard and no beautiful trees. You couldn’t see the mountains. And he didn’t like sharing his room with JB, even if he did admire his big brother. Some things you just had to keep private, ‘specially if the other person didn’t really care about you.

Bandor awoke with the dawn. He always did. He looked over to where JB slept. His brother was sound asleep. JB hadn’t been home when Bandor had gone to bed. He’d tried without success to get his mum to let him stay up until JB got home. He was so excited to think that the next part of the adventure might be taking place and he was unhappy that he wasn’t part of it. But JB was still asleep when, after breakfast, Bandor had to go off to school. Then, JB hadn’t come home for two days and Bandor was beside himself wondering what had happened. He was afraid to ask his mum, though she didn’t seem to be worried. He didn’t want to get JB in trouble, but he didn’t see how he could. Where was JB and what was he doing? Finally at dinner the night before JB came back home the conversation at the dinner table eased his fears.

His pop, pausing between bites of cornbread and honey, said, “Lis’ you’ve outdone yourself again. Love your cornbread!”

His mum replied, “Oh Jud, go on! You always say that. How could I possibly keep outdoing myself?

“Mmm,” was all his pop said. Then, swallowing the last bit, he announced, “JB’s supposed to come back tomorrow, and I expect he’ll have the new material you’ve been wanting for making shirts.”

“How do you know that? I thought he was going over to Cray Township to help with harvesting. How’s he going to buy material for me? There’s no shops out that way.”

“I dunno. Just said he’d do it. Said he’d be able to get me those woodworking tools I want to set up a cabinet making business.”

“They can’t be paying him enough for all that, can they?”

“I dunno. His business, I guess. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. ‘Bout time he paid his way here, after all the work and expense we had bringing him up.”

“Oh, Jud, that’s mean-hearted of you…”

They went on back and forth about JB and his supposedly grown-up ways, but Bandor had stopped listening. He was off in another world. He knew how JB was going to afford all those things. And he sure wasn’t going to let on to his folks that he knew. But his sudden insight about JB bothered him. It confirmed that JB was just using him.  Because of his telepathic gift. But the part about getting back at the Federation, that was okay with Bandor.

Bandor knew what his brother had done was wrong; what they had done, what he had helped his brother do. Maybe even illegal. He didn’t care. The world had turned gray since they’d been forced to move into the city. There was no more music in his world, no texture, tasteless. Helping JB get back at those who caused their poverty seemed an antidote for Bandor’s pain. It numbed him to all that had been beautiful—and was no more. If only his brother loved him instead of using him, it wouldn’t be so bad living in this awful place. Or even if JB let him be a part of what he was doing—maybe that would be enough.

Serenity City, Achor, Versent System. 2371 – 2379 GES.

The move to the city had meant Bandor went to the public school instead of being home taught by his mum. She had to work now. He looked forward to being with others his own age—until the first day at school. The constant drone of voices in his head from so many kids and teachers around him gave him headaches. He didn’t know how to keep the voices out. So, he often skipped classes to avoid the pain, exploring the back alleys and docks of the city. But he didn’t like being alone.

Then, as he entered adolescence, he discovered girls. Or, rather, they discovered him. He’d filled out and grown tall, desirable in the eyes of the opposite sex. But he was shy and found it difficult to engage in flirtatious behavior. And he discerned the insincerity of most of the girls who tried to get his attention but laughed at him when he responded to them in a clumsy fashion. It was the same thing with his brother all over again: Why can’t they like me for who I am rather than for what I look like or can do with them?

Then a girl came along whose intentions with him were more sincere. She was a couple of years older than him. He sensed she wouldn’t laugh at his inexperience but would patiently teach him. Her thoughts drew him in, and he followed her into the intimacy she wanted from him. An intimacy that he discovered he wanted also. Now, at least, he could partner with another person to face the challenges of growing up. Two people united could be stronger than the sum of their individual strengths.

They dated for a while until one day an unfortunate slip on his part let her know that he was telepathic. She ran from him. He vowed to stay away from women after that. But the fires of adolescence continued to burn so he had to go back on his vow and learn to be more careful in hiding from his partner that he knew what she wanted or thought. Because of this his relationships with women tended to be superficial. He never fell in love with any of the women he knew. It was too dangerous.

As Bandor progressed through his teen years his telepathic powers increased. He was able to pick up thoughts at a greater distance. That meant more and more voices at once. The overlap of so many voices when he was in a crowd became a painful tumult in his head. Bandor felt he was going to lose his mind. He couldn’t keep the noises out and, in desperation, thought of ending his life. He couldn’t confide in anyone for fear of rejection. His brother was no help either, regularly pushing him to participate in his larcenous activities but never concerned with how Bandor felt about it.

One night, as he lay in bed, he heard his name spoken in his mind. Mercifully, at night there were few minds near him that were awake. So he thought he’d imagined it. No one had ever spoken to him that way. Then the telepathic voice came again, along with a very distinct touch on his mind, almost like a caress.

~Bandor.

Bandor couldn’t help answering. He sent back: ~Who is this? What do you want?

~My name is Phoebe. I want to help you.

~Help me how?

~I want to help you to control your gift, help you keep out the thoughts of others.

~How will you do that?

~You must come to me, visit me. I will coach you.

Bandor wanted to believe this good news, but he was suspicious. It might be a trick to rob him or to turn him in to the authorities.

Phoebe had given him an address. It was an adjacent apartment complex, on the street behind his. He decided to approach the building the next day but not go in. He would see who went in and out, try to determine if there were any people who lived there that he didn’t want to meet. Their neighborhood was not the safest place in the city. As he stood outside the building, uncertain as to what to do, Phoebe spoke to him again.

~Bandor, why are you standing outside? Please come in. I won’t hurt you; I promise.

Phoebe’s voice was so sincere, even sweet feeling, that he decided to go up. Bandor didn’t know it yet, but mind speech made deception nearly impossible. The door of Phoebe’s apartment opened just as he walked up. There was no one there, but a normal voice called out to him: “Come in Bandor. I am in the next room.”

Again Bandor was suspicious, his sense of caution elevated further as the door closed behind him, seemingly by itself. But he wanted help. His need to be delivered of the maddening babble in his head drove him to go to Phoebe. When he entered the room, he understood why she hadn’t come to the door. She was paralyzed, fastened to a mobile chair of sorts. One side of her face was slack and her arm on that side hung useless. Bandor had seen enough of unfortunate humanity in the city to not be overly shocked, but still he started to look away from her. Her broad smile and bright eyes captured him, pulled his eyes back to hers. ~Bandor! You’ve come. I’m so happy. Please sit down.

He looked about the room for a place to sit. A movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. Turning he saw a chair moving across the small room to his side. It’s legs made a scraping noise on the worn floor covering. Phoebe silently gazed at him, her amber/jade green eyes studying his. As Bandor sat he understood how the door to her apartment opened and closed without help. If this woman can do that, Bandor thought to himself, she can teach me how to open or close my mind. Still, he was in awe of her.

~Don’t be afraid Bandor. There are other gifts of the mind than yours. Providence decides who and what. You have the gift of hearing the thoughts of others. You will also be able to speak into the minds of others. But you must learn to control this gift. I will teach you if you let me. Will you?

~Yes. Yes, I will.

Phoebe was the sweetest person Bandor had ever met. And the strangest. Yet she was able to fulfill her promise. Over the course of a few months Bandor learned to control his gift, to screen out thoughts and to select minds with whom to communicate. Phoebe was part of a small group of people in the city who had ‘psionic’ powers, as she called them. The group referred to themselves as the Psi. In these gatherings Bandor honed his skill to perfection. He was told by all of them that he was the most powerful telepath they had ever encountered.

He also began to realize how much more strength there was in a group than in partnering with just one other person—his brother or a girlfriend. He was beginning to formulate the ideas that he felt would serve throughout his life: being part of a community with common goals was a necessary foundation for one to have a meaningful life. Inside a group you could find identity and avoid the conflicts that often came between individuals. In a group, you all had the same agenda.

One evening, at a meeting of the Psi in Phoebe’s small apartment there was a visitor. Jansil had just come back from off world. He was a former member of the group and had left Achor to find a better life for himself. With exceptional skills in scan technology his future seemed bright. He had gone to Alhambra, a planet known for its high-tech industry. It was clear to Bandor from the discussion that Jansil had failed, and that ability was not a factor in success in the Federation worlds.

Jansil spoke, not attempting to hide the cynicism in his thoughts. ~In the Federation worlds it’s not what you know but what you are. Most of the others nodded agreement, saddened but not surprised.

Bandor, young and inexperienced, asked, ~What do you mean by ‘what you are?’

The older members of the group looked at him. One spoke. ~Look at the color of your skin, and your eyes, Bandor. Achor eyes, none like them anywhere else in the galaxy.

Another spoke. ~Listen to your accent of Galactic Standard. Think about your heritage, your planet.

Bandor couldn’t understand. ~What difference does what I look like make?

A young woman, a newcomer to the group, her name was Elinah Bandor thought, spoke up. She avoided mind speech, there was too much bitterness in her words. “That’s the whole point, Bandor. People fear what is different. And, fearing it, they push it away, often without compassion. We all do that. Humans do that—probably a holdover from our pre-human past.”

For long moments there was silence, both inner and outer. They all knew the truth of her words, had all suffered that truth in one way or another.

It was Bandor’s first real encounter with xenophobia—the results of it anyway. As the evening progressed, Bandor learned other disconcerting things about the outside world. The new information threatened his evolving world view, his conviction that an enlightened community could reign in the transcendent autonomy of the individual. He hadn’t carefully thought out his new beliefs. He saw his error. There would always be groups among humans. There would be—needed to be—diversity among groups, just like among individuals. The clash would take place between groups, replacing the conflict between individuals. Or a charismatic individual could mobilize an entire group into a force against another group. He was no longer so sanguine about the inevitable victory of a communitarian vision for universal peace and justice. Not after what he was hearing this evening.

Though scornful, Jansil couldn’t hide his impression of the wealth and the high standard of living he had seen in the few months of his sojourn. Jansil was speaking to Phoebe as the group listened in. ~Phoebe, their medical technology is so much more than what we have here. You could go to Verde and get treatment for your condition.

~Jansil, I don’t have the funds to pay for such a trip. She absent-mindedly fiddled with the controls on her chair.

~We can all donate to this, raise a travel fund for you. He waved his hand around the circle of friends. A couple nodded enthusiastically.

~That’s kind of you to say, Jansil, but I don’t think it would work out. I’m pretty busy here with my work.

~But think how much easier your work would be with prosthetics that would restore your ability to walk.

~Please, Jansil… Her cheeks were turning pink.

A woman sitting next to Jansil poked him in the side and whispered in his ear. He said ~Oh! Turning to Phoebe, he spoke aloud: “Oh Phoebe, I’m sorry. I guess I just got carried away.”

“It’s okay, Jansil. Don’t worry about it.” But she didn’t look at him. Slowly the tension in the room subsided and the group turned to light banter about the local football team and the coming festival of lights.

Walking home that evening Bandor reflected on the things he had heard and began to get a better understanding of his brother’s antagonism toward the Federation. The Federation insiders didn’t care about his people and wouldn’t permit them to join their exclusive club. It was one group against another, and the stronger group won. Just like two guys fist fighting. JB was just evening the odds a bit. At the same time a respect for the way of the individual crept back into his thinking. If groups could act like individuals then what was the difference? Despite the conflict in his mind between community and individual, the conversation that evening drove home a key lesson that he vowed never to forget. Ethnicity meant more than education, social position more than skills. At the same time, he saw the hypocrisy of his brother’s attempt to right the wrongs done against his people. JB was mostly just making himself rich on the spoils. Bandor wanted a better way, a purer way and vowed to find it.

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