Channel's Destiny Part 12

Sessly Bron approached Zeth, wonder in her nager, but no fear. "It is your custom ... to congratulatea"?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Owen. "Zeth's grown up now."

She looked into Zeth's face, and he perceived in her field a mingled joy and sorrow. Her eyes* were misted as she said, "Congratulations, Zeth." Then she turned to Owen. "You must teach me to do what you did for him."

"Sessly!" gasped her brother.

She turned fiercely. "I shall learn it! We will shoot no more children down in the streets of Mountain Chapel!"

"We can take them to Fort Freedom," said Mrs. Carson.

"If there still is a Fort Freedom," Zeth said, suddenly terribly aware that a whole day had pa.s.sed since the attack of the Raiders had begun.

"There will be," said Maddok Bron. "Zetha"Owena"you must show my people. We will drive off the Raiders, to preserve a place wherea"G.o.d be praiseda"it is no curse to be Sime!"

They went out onto the porch of the Bron house. Pale morning sunlight was melting the light frost across the gra.s.s, but although Zeth wanted to savor the crisp morning air, his attention focused on the gathering crowd of armed men. To one side were Lon Carson and the others Bron had called "children of Simes," but far outnumbering them were other men, shotguns and rifles held ready. There was the same ugly sensation he had felt outside last nighta"a mingling of hate and fear.

Behind the men stood women, some holding babes in arms, others with older children by their sides. Zeth was sure the whole town had turned out to judge him.

Mr. Bron stepped forward, his voice carrying clearly in the morning air. "My peoplea"since last summer, when Hope Carson took her Sime daughter across the border, to return with tales of Simes who do not killa"since that day, we have lived in doubt and dissension. If before we were concerned about the children of Simes living among us, now suspicion divided us, dread fear lest we misinterpret G.o.d's will. The Holy Book said Simes are demons. Killers. Yet if what Mrs. Carson told us was true, it was possible that any child of ours who turned Sime . . . might . . . not . . . kill."

He waited for the ensuing murmur to die down before he continued, "We prayed for a sign. Last night a child came to us from Fort Freedom, claiming not to be the child of Simes"a"he glanced sidelong at Zeth with a faint smilea" "but of a Sime father and a humana"normala"mother."

'Now there were open exclamations. Bron nodded. "You have heard of this boy, Zeth Farris, from Mrs. Carson. We have wondered at the stories she and Owen Lodge have told us and, if they are true, what we are being asked to do.

"Last night Zeth came for help against killer Simes attacking his home. No adult of Fort Freedom dareda"but the faith of a child led him here, to beg aid of strangers."

"Why should we help Simes fight Simes?" shouted a portly man in the back row, whose nager was a sullen umber. "Let 'em kill each other, and good riddance!"

"As you would have killed last night, as we have killed our own children for generations!" Bron replied. "You all heard the alarm last night. Those of you on schedule came with your guns. The rest . . . you looked into your children's rooms, did you not? And before you went back to sleep, you thanked G.o.d it was not your child . . . this time."

At the whisper of a.s.sent, Bron continued. "When Zeth told me about the Raiders, I went to pray. G.o.d forgive mea"He had sent the sign we sought, and I would not see it. I went off to pray without recognizing that the child who had come to beg our help . . . was in changeover!"

Starts of fear ran through the crowd, followed by puzzlement as Zeth stood quietly on the porch. Owen edged nearer as the questions rose, "How could he be?" "Look at hima" that's no Sime!" "But I saw him in the stable last night." "But looka"he's just a little boy!"

When the crowd had settled, Mr. Bron said "Zeth? Show them?"

Zeth stepped forward, Owen at his side. "There's nothing to be scared of," he said. "Owen's Gen, like you, but he knew what to do for me. I'm Simea"but I'll never kill."

With his right hand, he once again unb.u.t.toned his left cuff and rolled the sleeve up to expose his sheathed tentacles. Owen, standing to his left, took Zeth's hand, lifted ita"and at last Zeth allowed his handling tentacles their way, sliding over Sime and Gen flesh, binding their hands for all to see.

There were gasps from the crowd, and instinctive movements of guns. At once Maddok Bron stepped in front of Zeth. "There is nothing to fear. Rather rejoice in G.o.d's sign to us. Think of your own children, brothers, sisters. Will you chance their becoming demonic killer Simes? Or would you have them like this boya"lucid, controlled . . . harmless?" He moved to Zeth's right side and added, "Innocent."

Firmly, Bron held out his hand to Zeth. Sensing that the man knew, as Abel Veritt always did, the gestures that would convince people only partially swayed by words, he took his hand, letting his tentacles wrap about it. There was a collective sigh from the watching crowd.

Then Lon Carson raised his gun over his head, shouting, "For your brothers, your sisters, your childrena"ride with us to save Fort Freedom!"

With a shout of a.s.sent, people scattered to their homes. Zeth was left standing between the two Gens, retracting his tentacles. Mr. Bron -examined his hand, front and back. "They're nota""

"No, they're not slimy!" Owen supplied with a laugh. "I don't think I've convinced Uncle Glian of that. Oh!" he added. "I've got to ride to Uncle Glian's ranch! He'll bring his men to help."

"I've got to get across the border," said Zeth. "I'll be safe enough. You go for your uncle, and I'll ride with Mr. Bron."

"You're not going anywhere but back to bed!" Owen said firmly. "Zeth, you're a brand-new Sime and a channel at that. If you don't rest, in a few hours you'll collapse."

"And so will you, Owen," said Sessly Bron from just inside the door. "You had no rest last night, either. Maddok, send riders to the ranches. And you boys come inside and have breakfast. I'll heat some water so you can have a bath, and thena""

There was no use protesting that both Zeth and Owen were grown men by Fort Freedom's standards. Besides, as his tension relaxed, Zeth found his mind refusing to obey his will, fixing with utter fascination on trivial things such as the rippling pattern through the walls of a house as men rode by behind it. "Well, maybe you're right," he conceded, glad to have Owen beside him to s.h.i.+eld him from the chaotic nager.

Still, he fidgeted nervously as they watched the men of Mountain Chapel ride out to defend Fort Freedom. Would there be anything there to defend? Was he the last channel lefta"untrained and nearly helpless?

Owen put his hand over Zeth's restless tentacles and said, "We'll ride home tomorrow."

Chapter 7.

The sun was low when Zeth and Owen topped the hill that gave them their first view of home. The air was very cold. A pall of smoke hung over the valley. Only large landmarks could be distinguished. The Old Fort stood amid columns of black smoke. Where the town had been, there was nothinga" even the wooden bridge across the creek was gone, along with Slina's pens.

They had found the Old Homestead deserted but unharmed. Mrs. Veritt and the children must have gone home. That was the only hopeful sign. Well beyond the Fort Zeth could see other columns of dense smoke, and concluded that his own home was also a casualty.

He urged Star forward, insisting to himself, if the children are home. Fort Freedom drove the Raiders off. Immediately, though, he wondered: At what price?

Zeth reached forward, his laterals extending themselves to zlin, and was bombarded with excruciating pain, anguish, fear, grief.

It was not until Owen stopped both their horses and reached out to shake Zeth that he was able to stop zlinning. "Zetha" what's wrong? What happened?"

Forcing calm, Zeth said, "Down there. It's awful!"

Owen looked from Zeth to the scene below, and back again. "You can't zlin that far!"

"Are you going to tell me what I can and can't zlin?" Zeth snapped, rubbing his hands over his aching lateral sheaths.

"No, of course not," said Owen. "Herea"stop that! You want to injure yourself?"

"I'm all right," Zeth said. "Come ona"let's get home."

"What did you zlin?" Owen asked as they started down.

"Pain. Probably a lot of people hurt. I'm scared, Owen."

The path to the Fort led through heaps of dead bodies. Zeth saw Simes going through piles of corpses, separating the dead from the living. Scarecrow forms of Freehand Raiders were flung limply on the blood-churned stubble. Among the piles of enemy dead were other bodies, Simes and Gens, some he knew and some he recognized as out-Territory Gens: they had died defending people they had always considered enemies.

And I'm responsible, Zeth thought, as he turned his eyes from an upturned face bearing the hideous rictus of fear that marked death by the kill. But the Fort stood. One wall was partly burned and partly smashed in; several houses had been burned; but the chapel stood unharmed, and the people he saw were not Freehand Raiders. I'm responsible for that, too, he consoled himself. The bullet-ridden Raider corpses made it plain that the out-Territory Gens had saved the day.

Zeth and Owen headed toward a large group of active peoplea"and naturally, they found Rimon Farris and Abel Veritt at its center. There was a whip slash across Abel's forehead, blood congealed in his white hair. He limped heavily, but he was the same unstoppable Abel.

Rimon, though, was almost unrecognizable. His clothing was in ashy tatters, his hair singed, his eyebrows gone. From his thighs to his boots, his trousers had been burned away, his legs a ma.s.s of burns and blisters. He was too busy healing others to think of himself. Rimon looked up with a start. "Who'sa"? Zeth!"

Until the past few minutes, Zeth had never before zlinned any Sime, but zlinning his father, he felt that he'd have known that field anywhere. He could feel worry and annoyance vying with the pride of winning, and the easy mes.h.i.+ng of their fields as his father zlinned him in return. Zeth slid down off his horse, but dared not embrace Rimon because he zlinned another painful burn across his back. Rimon held out his hands, and they entwined handling tentacles in the gesture of deep friends.h.i.+p Zeth had so often seen his father exchange with Del Erick.

Some overlying anxiety rang incomprehensibly through Rimon's field. Then he was called to help by Hank and Uel, working nearby. Zeth flicked back to duoconsciousness as Abel moved in to hug him, tears in his eyes, saying, "Fools and children! Somehow G.o.d takes special care of them. Bless you, Zeth Farris. For all I could turn you over my knee like a child too young to be reasoned with, what you did saved Fort Freedom."

In the background, Owen called, "Pa!" and ran off toward Del Erick, who was carrying a limp form. Del did not seem harmed at all, though his clothes were dirty and smeared with other people's blood.

.He carried a boy no bigger than Zeth, Sime, emaciated, dressed in the rags of the Freehand Raiders.

"I left this one for dead a few hours ago," said Del as he joined them. "I suppose I should have just broken his neck and had done with it."

"No, Del," Abel said gently. "You're a fine fighter, but you don't murder the helpless. What's wrong with him?"

Zeth zlinned the boy, finding pain, swelling, and pressure on his lateral sheaths. His eyes told him the cause. "Whip burns," he said, fighting off nausea as his own laterals buzzed in sympathy. "A hard blow to his right outer lateral. The swelling is keeping him unconscious." When Abel and Del stared at him, he added, "I'm sorrya"that's all I can tell. I don't know what to do for it."

Del gave a grim laugh. "What are youa"two days old?"

"Less," Owen contributed with proprietary pride.

"And already you can zlin that accurately? You'll be a better channel than your dad, Zeth. Congratulations.!'

"You shouldn't have moved this boy, Del," said Abel.

"I knowa"but I couldn't bring him around. Better disorientation than freezing to death."

Abel said to the Simes waiting to help, "Take that boy inside and have fosebine ready if he comes to. He'll send every Sime in the Fort into screaming fits, and we can't have that with all these untrained Gens around."

Rimon, hearing the last part, said, "Put him in the back room of the chapel, away from the Gens." The stone chapel, the best-insulated building in the Fort, would be used as an infirmary for Gens. Zeth walked over to his father and Uel. They had a Gen male face down on a blanket, blood pouring from the lower left side of his back. Blood stained all down his left trouser leg, indicating that he had remained on his feet or his horse despite the wound.

Uel was saying, "I don't know how you can heal him, Rimon. His field is melting away. While you're working with him, others may die who might have recovered."

Again Zeth automatically zlinneda"and instantly recognized the man's field, weak as it was. "Mr. Bron!"

Abel said, "Their leader. Rimon, can't you save him?"

"Dad," Zeth pleaded, "he took me in in changeover. He persuaded the Gens to come help us. Uela"can't I do something? So Dad cana"?"

"Your father ought to be in bed himself!" Uel snapped. Hank put a hand on his arm, and he calmed. "I'm sorry. We've been through so much here, I forget what you've been through." His expression brightened. "Heya"you are a channel, aren't you? Congratulations." The smile faded. "Oh-oh. Trouble."

Several Gens from Mountain Chapel were approaching, guns ready, suspicion in their collective nager. Both Hank and Owen immediately moved between them and the Simes.

"Let us through!" one of the men demanded. "We can take care of our own."

"No," said Hank. "Our channels are his only chance."

Hank, having come from Gen Territory, spoke the Gen language without even the faint trace of accent of the bilingual children of Fort Freedom. Zeth observed the consternation in the Gen fields as they tried to place him. Owen spoke up. "I've told you about Fort Freedom. Now see for yourselves. The Simes here don't killa"they save lives. Pleasea"if Mr. Bron is to have any chance at all, don't interfere."

"What're they gonna do to him?" another man asked.

Zeth began to zlin what his father was doing. He was, to all appearances, simply standing beside the fallen Gen, but nagerically he was projecting need. The cells of Bron's body responded by producing selyn, and, Zeth discovered with absolute fascination, producing more blood. He zlinned his father avidly, wanting to know how a channela"

A gently impinging field brought him duoconscious. Owen was circling Zeth's left wrist with his hand, not touching, but interfering with Zeth's perception. When his eyes focused, Owen said, "Wake up, Zeth. We're going inside."

Hank Steers was standing beside Owen. "There, you see, Owen? It worked. But keep an eye on Zeth. A new channel can drift off for hours, and you'll find out he was zlinning the b.u.mblebees working in a field of clover!" Hank added, "Hey, Zeth, congratulations. And, Owena"you certainly showed 'em! The Companions have been on your side all along, you know, but we couldn't argue the channels down. Any problemsa"just ask!" And he hurried after Uel.

In the chapel, rows of beds and pallets held the wounded Gens, many already treated and resting. Whip cuts, knife wounds, broken bonesa"all would respond to simple treatment. Fort Freedom's Gens moved among them, lest Simes inspire fear. Zeth followed the party carrying Maddok Bron toward the far end, where heavy hangings s.h.i.+elded the part of the chapel where the channels were treating the most seriously wounded.

Owen's sister Jana was plumping pillows and carrying water. She dropped everything, though, when she saw her brother. "Owen! Oh, you're back!" She took his hand, oblivious to Zeth, and pulled him toward one of the beds. "Look who's here!"

The man in the bed was big and blond, like Owena"Zeth knew even before Owen exclaimed, "Uncle Glian!" that they had to be related. Only the eyes were differenta"this man's were hazel, not the startling blue of Owen's and Jana's.

Glian Lodge pushed himself up on the pillows, wincing at the pain from broken ribs. "Well, hi there, son. You're a hero, I'm told!"

"Not really," said Owen, and Zeth could zlin that the a thought surprised him. "Zeth saved Fort Freedoma"and you, and all the others who came to help."

"h.e.l.l, a chance to shoot them slimy sons ofa"" He broke off. "Yeaha"I know. All Simes aren't alike." He called to the man in the next bed. "Heya"Eph! Wake up and see who's here!"

"h.e.l.lo, Mr. Norton," Owen said politely when the other man opened his eyes. His head was swathed in bandages, covering an array of painful cuts. Owen pulled Zeth forward to be introduced.

They had already exchanged the normal pleasantries when Lodge said suddenly, "Hey, wait!" His field jarred with startlement, and Zeth clenched his teeth and backed a step toward Owen. "You're the kid went into changeovera"?"

"Yes, sir," he replied. "Don't worrya"I won't hurt you. No Sime here would."

The Gen shook his head. "I'll be d.a.m.ned. You seem like any normal, healthy kid."

"I am," said Zeth, although he wasn't really a kid anymore.

Eph Norton stared at him. "Dear G.o.d," he whispered, and turned his head away. Zeth felt the tears stinging the Gen's eyelids as he pretended to fall back to sleep. He remembered that the man had lost his son to changeover.

When Zeth and Owen continued toward the insulated hangings' Owen said, "Let me go first, and don't zlin until you look first. This is one s.h.i.+doni-be-flayed experience to throw a new channel into. Let me s.h.i.+eld you. No heroics.

Zeth nodded and followed Owen through the curtain. Each of the severely injured Gens was surrounded by heavy hangings cutting the fields to a shattered haze so the channels could work without interference. One of the compartments, though, throbbed with a ruddy glow that drew him helplessly, and when he pushed the hangings aside, he saw what he already knew: his mother, lying in the bed unconscious. Her field was so strong that he was surprised to see three other people there: Marji Carson in the channel's position beside the bed, Trina Morgan a.s.sisting her, and Marji's father, Lon Carson, watching his daughter work.

Owen started to pull Zeth back, but when he saw Kadi Farris he followed Zeth, his field marbled with concern and sympathy.

Marji looked up. "Your father said, you were home, Zeth. He was just ina"Kadi came conscious for him."

"How bada"?"

"They were caught in the fire. Both of them have bad burns on their legs. Rimon threw himself over Kadi when the roof fell ina"he has even worse burns. Kadi has lung damage from smokea"and your father says there are scars from another time."

"Gen raiders burned their first house down around them when they started to homestead here. Marji," said Zeth, "will she live?"

"Oh, yes! I'm sure. Rimon will be back latera"she responds best to his field, but I can maintain her."