First Channel Part 27

As Jord's parents eased out of the room, Rimon realized that the situation was not new. He hadn't been around Jord in need for several months; thus he hadn't seen this resentment in Jord, toward Willa. He recalled his own resentment of Kadi's control-but he had decided that was due to her attempts to hide her true feelings-his sense that she was lying nagerically. Willa was completely open her concern was genuine and loving, and still Jord responded with resentment.

He decided to let Jord cool off, then try tactfully to send him home with Willa. Jord went to the foot of Steers' bed, staring at him, brooding. Willa tried again. "Look, he is sleeping. Sleep is good, Jord. He will be well soon."

"You don't know anything about it!" Jord snapped. "You don't know anything!" Then he pulled himself together, genuinely sorry. "Forgive me, Willa," he said with the tone of habit. "I shouldn't have said that."

"You are' in need. Come home and have transfer-then you won't say things you shouldn't."

"Will you stop pestering me?! I said I'm staying here!"

Steers moaned, wheezed, and began to breathe stertorously. Rimon moved to where he could zlin him without Willa's field interfering. It was bad-his nager was fading. Apparently he had the strength of will to let himself die. Rimon moved in, one eye on Jord's reaction, and tried to support the Gen's field. Even unconscious, Steers resisted. Perhaps the best thing was to leave him in peace. Rimon zlinned Jord lightly, and knew that the Sime knew his friend was dying. Yet Jord was determined to stay with him until the end.

Rimon withdrew to check the other Gens. They had lost another one during the night, but the other two would survive. Survive to be killed, he thought with a shudder, the first time the thought had gotten through his carefully laid defenses. I am getting tired.

He was vaguely aware of murmuring between Jord and Willa. Suddenly a flare of anguished fury reached him, and he turned as Willa said, "But Jord-"

"Leave me alone!" he cried. "You don't understand anything about it! Just let me go pray for my friend in peace." And shaking Willa off, Jord ran out, leaving her staring after him.

Rimon hurried to her. Steers was dead. "What happened?"

"I don't know. The man died. So I told Jord we could go have transfer now. I wanted to make him feel better-"

"Why didn't you go with him?" he asked, pulling her toward the door.

"He told me not to."

"But he's in need! Come on, Willa! We've got to catch him."

To pray, Jord had said. The chapel. Rimon took off after Jord at a run, Willa following. Foreboding weighed in the pit of Rimon's stomach. Jon would be in the chapel at this hour. Rimon speeded up, seeing Jord augmenting now, das.h.i.+ng for home and whatever solace he found in that chapel.

As they pounded toward the opera gates of Fort Freedom, Rimon zlinned a Gen nager crossing the square. He was still minutes behind Jord, Willa fallen so far behind he could hardly sense her. As Jord neared the gates, Rimon zlinned the Gen directly in Jord's path, but couldn't tell who it was.

My fault! Why did I let anyone keep their children here?

Zlinning Jord, Rimon saw that he was not interested in anything but escape. It would be all right. All right- Jord was through the gate now-practically on top of the oncoming Gen. It wasn't that Jord failed to sense him-it was that he didn't care. He would have gone straight past, but for the sudden nageric screech of startlement as Jord almost ran the Gen down-and at that moment Rimon recognized Jon Forester.

The twinge of fear stopped Jord in his tracks.

Oh, Jon, hold it in this once-just this once! Rimon willed. Jord had taken Jon's field down three times-maybe he wouldn't fear. If he held steady for just a moment, Rimon could catch up and hold Jord until Willa got there.

For a moment he thought it was going to be all right Jon's startlement dissolved into anger-no augmenting inside the gates was the rule in Fort Freedom, where people let their children play on the green, and it was strictly enforced now that there were Gens likely to be startled by exactly what had just happened.

Even as Rimon rounded the gates so that he could see what was happening, Jon turned on Jord, ready to snap at him, and saw-saw a Sime haggard with need, zlinning him...

Thready fear pulsed through his field. Rimon shot forward, but Jord was reaching toward Jon already, sending the boy's fear 'flaring into a beacon that Rimon himself felt drawn to for a terrible moment.

Rimon launched himself at the pair in a desperate leap. In midair, he saw Jord grasp Jon, felt the fear, the pain, the insane pleasure of killbliss, and as he hit Jord in the chest, knocking him away from his prey, it was a dead body that fell from Jord's grip. Rimon rolled in a tangle of bodies, feeling Jord's frustration, not because the kill was interrupted, but because he had drawn all the life-force from Jon and still it was not enough.

Still in desperate need, Jord groped toward Rimon. With terror and guilt coursing through his nerves, Rimon didn't care this time-he couldn't shen Jord again, couldn't kill him when Jon, and Henry Steers, and G.o.d knew how many others had already died-killed by Rimon's own hand as surely as if he'd done it himself-because he had to try to live without killing Gens.

When Jord grasped him, lateral to lateral, he didn't resist. He didn't care. He was better off dead. Everyone would be better off if he were dead. As Jord made lip contact the pain began-aching, searing pain like the pain when he had driven selyn into Kadi, but worse-going on and on until blessed blackness blotted out his guilt, his pain, everything.

Chapter Twenty-One.

SELF-DEFENSE.

Rimon woke. He felt fine. He was in bed, and Kadi was in his arms, asleep, her head on his chest, the fragrance of her hair sweet in his nostrils. But it was not their bed.

Memory came back in a rush of impressions, all overlaid by overpowering need. Coming to in need and pain, being pulled from a tangle of bodies. Jon dead. Jord in shock. Hands moving him gently-Abel Veritt. Willa pounding up, breathless, taking in the scene and turning on Jord, hitting him on the face and shoulders while she made wordless cries of anger and frustration, Jord never lifting a hand to defend himself until Margid Veritt pulled Willa off him. And finally Kadi seeming to materialize out of nowhere, the anguish in "her field disappearing at once when she saw Rimon was alive, dissolving into concern, her nager an instant, soothing support.

Through it all, the deep, aching, terrible need, the worst he had ever known. Somehow, the Veritts had gotten them all out of the street and into their house, where Abel had thrust Rimon and Kadi into-yes, that's where they were: Abel and Margid Veritt's bedroom. He'd never been in here before.

All Rimon had meant to do was shunt selyn from his reservoir into his own system, just enough to last the few days until his next transfer was due. Need impelling, raw nerves crying out for selyn, he faltered and suddenly Kadi took command, pouring life into him, completing the transfer on a wave of bliss that led them mindlessly to the inevitably physical conclusion.

But now he remembered. Henry Steers. Jord. Jon. All of Abel's hopes smashed at once.

Rimon gently extricated himself from Kadi's arms.

"Rimon?" she asked, sitting up to focus on him vaguely.

"Go back to sleep, Kadi. I've got to talk to Abel." He began sorting through the tangled heap of clothing.

Kadi got up to dress. "I couldn't sleep now. I'll go with you. Jord will be the biggest problem."

"Problem!" laughed Rimon bitterly. "Oh, Kadidid, how am I going to live with this?"

"It wasn't your fault, Rimon." It seemed she had been saying that to him all his life. No, she didn't understand. So far, she had survived her a.s.sociation with him, but sooner or later, she would become his victim, just like all the others.

Rimon's brief post-syndrome had evaporated. Jord was deep in the post-kill depression he had known in himself, in Del, in everyone he touched. Jord didn't look up when Rimon and Kadi entered, but Abel rose from his chair before the fire, and came to them anxiously. "Are you all right?"

Rimon brushed that aside. "Where's Willa?"

"We finally got her to sleep. Jord-"

Jord said dully, "My life should be forfeit to you, Rimon."

"You were driven beyond endurance," Rimon replied. "I never should have tried to teach others to be like me. I'm unnatural, abnormal-"

"No!" interrupted Abel. "It's not unnatural to refuse to kill."

"But I kill anyhow!" said Rimon. "Billy, Vee and Drust, now Jon-and look at my friends, eaten up by the same disease that devours me! Abel, I'm not what you think I am!" He pointed to the bedroom. "In there-I lost control just the way Jord did."

"No," said Abel. "You may have allowed Kadi to control you, but you would never have hurt her. I've seen it, zlinned you, Rimon-if you'd taken a frightened Gen, at the first pain you'd have gone to healing mode. You don't crave pain. Think about that! You say you are unnatural? How can the desire to feel pain be natural? No, Rimon, it was a test."

"A-test-I-failed!"

"No, a test Jon failed, and even Jord failed. But Rimon, G.o.d does not put tests on us to make us give up. My son has to start over, to face the test again. Are you going to refuse to help him? Can you refuse to help?"

"Father," said Jord, a worn whisper. "I can't ask-"

Kadi went to sit beside Jord, saying, "You don't have to ask. We'll do anything we can for you."

Jord shrank from Kadi's presence. "I know what I am, You were right in the first place, Father-we are all cursed. Our strongest will is nothing before the compulsion of our nature. I had no malice toward Jon. He simply-came in the way! It could have been anyone. I no longer even distinguish between Sime and Gen-Father, instead of Rimon, it might have been you, Mother, anyone! Oh, G.o.d help me -I can't walk anywhere safely now. There is no place left for me."

How was it possible, Rimon wondered, for Jord to understand so well, while Abel with all his experience couldn't see it? We are killers by nature. The Gens can refuse to die, but we cannot refuse to kill.

Abel was saying, "Jord, there is one place for you: where Rimon stands-beyond the kill. Remember when Kadi was pregnant, and Rimon lived on Willa's selyn? That was before he pa.s.sed through his crisis. Now he takes selyn routinely from any Gen who will offer it, and they feel no pain. You have done it, too. You know how."

"But I wouldn't dare anymore. I-"

"Don't say it," answered Abel. "Jord, my son-we have all erred. Accept that, and pray for forgiveness. But don't make one sin the excuse for others. Learn from your error -no one is safe until he has pa.s.sed through the trail that Rimon pa.s.sed through. Rimon, weeks ago I recognized that my son was approaching this crisis, and I was blinded by pride. I led you to presume we had found the key to safety for our Gen children here at Fort Freedom-but so long as there is any Sime in the community who has not pa.s.sed through the test, we can't have them here. We must still be ready to give up our children when we must."

"Oh, Abel," said Kadi, her nager aching with Abel's pain. A thought cut through Rimon. What would it be like to give up Zeth after ten or fifteen years of watching him grow?

Zlinning him lightly, Abel said, "Rimon-if we help, perhaps you would be willing to take in any of our Gen children who elect to stay on this side of the border now?"

"Willa," said Jord, very painfully. "I hurt her-insulted her, and then left her. She may never forgive me, but if she does-what am I to do? I love her, and yet-oh, G.o.d, what if I kill her, too?"

"You can't," said Kadi. "That much I know. There is a test for Gens, too-and Jon failed it. If he had ever gotten beyond covering his fear with defiance, all that would have happened would have been a simple transfer. No one would have been hurt."

Jord got up and moved restlessly about the room, stopping at the fireplace to stare into the flames. "No," he said at last. "No, we can't blame it all on Jon. I should have been able to resist his fear."

"Not in that condition," said Abel.

"I agree," said Kadi. "Jord, does your G.o.d blame you for having human limits? We can go on trying to stay alive -or we can quit and die. I wasn't raised to be a quitter." She met Rimon's gaze and some of her fire flashed to him. "Neither were you, Rimon Farris."

Zeth. Rimon had gone on then; he could go on now. Killing was unnatural because it prevented people from staying alive. Life itself was the greatest value.

"All right, Abel. We'll take in your Gens-for a while. Until you can take them back."

"Father! No-send them across the border-"

"Jord, G.o.d will expect us to get up and go forward. But we must learn from what has happened. First, though, must come Jon's funeral."

Jord went dead white. "Father, I can't-"

"You will attend. Everyone will attend. Go ring the bell, Jord, and tell everyone to a.s.semble in the chapel. I must go and tell the Foresters what I plan."

As if this whole thing were entirely his responsibility.

Within hours, a funeral cortege marched from Fort Freedom along the hill trail toward the border-where Jon was to be buried exactly on the border itself. The trail was frozen mud again, the digging of the grave difficult. Jord pitched into that work, as if the physical labor were a kind of expiation-or, perhaps, simply because it gave him something to do instead of standing to be stared at in horror.

The chill wind made Kadi s.h.i.+ver, and Rimon drew her close, warming her with his own body heat. Willa, still radiating a bewildered anger, remained near the Veritts until Kadi, seeing her start to shake despite her warm clothing, reached out and drew her to them, handing Zeth to her. Rimon didn't know why she did it, until the girl began to rock the baby, her attention at last on something besides her husband. Slowly the fury faded.

Occasionally, Rimon zlinned Gen Territory. This large a gathering of Simes was a perfect target for Gen guns should the border patrol happen along. Possibly the danger was a part of the penance; he didn't really understand Abel's methods. He sensed hostility toward Jord, but people quickly smothered it, as if waiting for permission to release their feelings.

When the Foresters stepped forward to place a wreath of evergreen branches on their son's casket, Abel spoke to them softly, and then took his place beside the grave.

"We have all faced death before," he said, "but it is never easy. Today we a.s.semble to mourn the pa.s.sing of Jon Forester. By now it is no secret to anyone here how Jon died: my son killed him."

At the bald statement, a shock ran through the listeners. Abel went on. "However, Jord was only the immediate instrument of Jon's death. We're all to blame, all guilty and yet, most of all, we're guilty of demanding too much, too soon.

"Jon Forester had courage. Yes-the most difficult kind of courage; for although he failed, he overcame his failures to try again and again to learn transfer. Jon died a martyr to the cause of life. Because he knew Simes could and should live without killing, he remained among Simes when he could have gone across the border to his own safety. G.o.d cannot ask more of any man. Let us pray for the soul of Jon Forester, who is surely now in heaven."

As Abel prayed, Rimon noticed the Foresters and a number of other people crying-but in many, there was still a tight control. Jord, in particular, remained dry-eyed, pale, even his nager a kind of separate field, as if he could not touch or respond in any way.

After the prayers, Abel said, "Probably you wonder why we have come here to bury the body of Jon Forester, instead of interring it in the consecrated ground near the chapel. No consecrated ground is required; the body of a martyr consecrates the ground it is laid in. Jon is not the first martyr to the cause we have vowed to follow. We must all face the inevitable fact: he will not be the last."

Abel waited until the murmur of horror died down before he continued. "We are in a pitched battle with the forces of evil, and since the evil lies within ourselves, the casualties of that battle must come from among ourselves. Our goal must be to lose as few lives as we possibly can and to be sure that no life is wasted!

"Jon Forester did not die in vain, unless you make it so. If you give up the hope of life without killing, Drust Fenell, Vee La.s.siter, and Jon Forester all died in vain. If a second life is lost because we encourage Gens who have not learned not to fear, to walk freely among Simes who have not yet learned not to kill-then that life is wasted. Only if we learn that lesson is Jon's death not in vain.

"We must pray constantly that G.o.d will grant us to learn quickly." There were tears in the old man's voice. "I have asked myself, over and over, why G.o.d saw fit to place Jon in my son's path at just that moment. Why was Jord presented with the test when he was in no condition to pa.s.s it? I think it's a lesson for all of us: we can fail. I've failed-every time I've tried not to kill. So have many of you. We all had our hopes bound up in Henry Steers-we have all done without to contribute to the fund to buy his freedom. Was that, too, a vain effort? I think not. Henry Steers had a son, a boy who is somewhere in this Territory. Had he lived, his father would have sought for him-and now, we will do it for him. Rimon-"

"Abel, how can I-?"

"You know more than any of us. We must search. We must try. G.o.d always expects us to try." As far as Abel was concerned, it was settled. Rimon looked down at Zeth, and knew that he had been drawn into Abel's hopes and schemes again. But now, the general expiation a.s.signed, Abel turned to the specific one.

"Jord, step forward."

As if hypnotized, Jord joined his father.

"My son, Rimon Farris was sent to teach the first lesson: that Simes do not have to kill. You have a second lesson to teach us: G.o.d does not condemn us for our failures. Will you teach us that lesson, Jord? Will you face the test again when G.o.d chooses to repeat it, and this time pa.s.s it?"

"If it is G.o.d's will," Jord replied.

"Do you repent of killing Jon Forester?"

"You know I do!" Jord choked out.

"Then will you do penance, in prayer and in works, to atone for your sin?" Jord's fierce control broke, and tears of healing grief rolled down his cheeks. He fell to his knees before his father. "Anything," he said. "Just tell me what to do."

Abel placed his hand on Jord's head. "You have taken Jon's selyn."

Oh no! thought Rimon. Don't load that on him, too!

But Jord only nodded, and Abel continued, "This month you will use that selyn in acts of penance for past mistakes, and of enduring hope for the future. First, you will fill in Jon's grave, obliterating any indication of the burial. This is not only that marauders may not desecrate the grave, but as a symbol that one day the border itself may be obliterated, when there will be no more divisions and no more martyrs."

"Yes, Father," Jord replied.

"And you'll spend the rest of this month preparing a monument for the chapel in Fort Freedom, that the names of those who've died for our cause shall never be forgotten. You will hew the granite alone, polish the stone, and carve into it the names of Drust Fenell, Vee La.s.siter, and Jon Forester. All future generations who look upon that stone will be reminded that their lives rest upon the deaths of others, and will join in our pledge that those deaths will not be in vain."

As penance, the concept made little sense to Rimon but as a mark of continuity, of a living dream, the idea moved him deeply. Around him, he felt the emotions change, anger and resentment at lord disappearing. lord, now sobbing in heartfelt cleansing grief, was returned to the community.