First Channel Part 3

"We'll let you go," the Raider said in a wheedling tone. "If we let you go, maybe you can escape across the border."

"You're not going to let me go," the boy said hopelessly, standing to face his tormentor.

"Yes, we will. I promise. All you have to do is get out of the circle."

Again the boy's eyes traced the circle, so small that he could run out of it in a second. But not faster than a Sime could augment. He knew that-but it was his only hope of life. He ran-and came up against one of the Raiders blocking his way, holding his arms up with tentacles extended but making no attempt to touch the boy. He ducked in another direction. Like magic, a Sime appeared between him and freedom each time he approached the edge of the circle. He threw himself one way, then another, unable to stop until he wore himself out and collapsed in exhaustion, sobbing hysterically.

When one of the Simes bent to pick the boy up, Rimon hid his face in his hands and forced himself down beneath his Sime senses, down to hypoconsciousness, so he could not zlin the kill.

When he dared to lift his head, though, the boy was not dead. He was sitting up, drinking in great gulps from a cup someone had given him, his emotions so worn out that his field had gone flat. He sat, paying no attention to what went on around him as the Raiders brought another Gen out of the tent.

This time it was a girl, tall, awkward, heavy-set. She was twice the size of any Sime there, but her fear did not peak as the boy's had; she radiated only hopeless resignation.

"Hey!" said one of the Raider women, "we have to feed our Gens or they won't keep. Here, girl-make some soup!"

She picked up a heavy iron kettle and heaved it at the girl, who barely caught it against her stomach, falling backward with the impact. Blankly, she climbed to her feet and carried the kettle to the fire, then turned and said, "Where are the ingredients?"

The Raiders howled with laughter. "You think we carry fodder for Gens? Only for our horses. Horses we keep!"

Even that only caused a slight ripple through the girl's nager. She had clearly resigned herself to her fate long ago.

"Oh, you're no fun!" spat the woman who had thrown the kettle. "Let's have some music!"

One of the Raiders sat down with a s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n and began to play on the aural level. Rimon was glad of that. He'd been slightly drunk on s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n in Scobla-was it only last night?-and didn't want a hangover to impede his rescue attempts.

The Sime instrument required both fingers and tentacles and could produce music at both sound and nageric-field levels. The nageric level could become so intense in skilled hands that it produced actual intoxication.

"Dance!" cried the Raiders, dragging the Gen boy to his feet and throwing him into the arms of the Gen girl. Clumsily, they stumbled about, then were grabbed by two Simes who whirled them helplessly into a wild tarantella.

The s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n player began striking an occasional nageric chord. Rimon drew himself down to hypoconsciousness again, listening on the physical level only, so that the music would affect him less. Yet it kept intruding on the edges of his consciousness as he wished the Raiders would bring the other three Gens out of the tent so he could see if Kadi was there.

The music grew faster, and the Raiders zipped crazily through the figures, gone mad with the rapture of the s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n. Rimon realized he had a chance. If the Raiders were drunk, he might be able to dash in and s.n.a.t.c.h Kadi away from them. His fear that she was in that tent turned slowly to hope.

Despite his attempts to block it, the music was seeping through to him, affecting his field in a most curious fas.h.i.+on. Was his hope real, or was he hitting an emotional high because of the music? Why couldn't he block it?

Abruptly, he realized it was because of the Gens. His father would not allow a s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n on the Genfarm because its playing caused a resonance in Gen fields that gave an overpowering feedback to a Sime. That's what the Raiders were doing-deliberately. So jaded by Gen fear that it was not enough for them, they were multiplying the effects of Gen emotions with the s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n.

He had to get away. But Kadi was in that tent. He could run right in and grab her-right under their noses. He knew he could.

As the music sang through him, he gave himself up to it, soaring on a cloud of ecstasy. The fear of the Gens was a balm to his soul-ahhh, he felt as a Sime was supposed to feel, at last...

Somewhere, some tiny part of Rimon was horrified. It succeeded in keeping him where he was instead of running out to join the Raiders-but only because he was in a kind of la.s.situde. Why make any effort? Pure bliss was coming straight to him without his having so much as to think about it.

In the camp, the Simes finally opened the tent and pulled the other three Gens out into the firelight. Flames gleamed on s.h.i.+ning red hair. Kadi!

No. Not Kadi. Another girl, short, freckled, snub-nosed. Not Kadi. Kadi wasn't there.

The tiny, isolated, reasoning part of Rimon felt intense relief-and then tried to goad him to leave. She wasn't there. He had wasted over an hour-two hours since he'd left the road. He had to get back to the horses, and head toward Reloc.

But the music held him, dominating the selyn currents in his body, leaving him deliriously activated yet utterly relaxed. The dancers in the camp were whirling flares of selyn, the Gens brilliant beacons of fear. He was bathed in the glow, the beauty of it all.

Then one of the Simes grabbed the boy they had first brought from the tent and tied his hands behind his back. Rimon could feel the boy's bewilderment-he wouldn't be killed for selyn with his arms in that position.

The other Gens were similarly bound. Then the leader of the Raiders chose the tall, awkward Gen girl. He pulled her to the center of the circle of dancers, and the music stopped. The dancers stopped to watch.

Rimon, like the other Simes, remained high, in ecstatic surrender, unjudging. The Sime reached out and ripped away the girl's bodice, exposing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She cringed away from him as he caressed her, but he hooked a leg behind her knees and sent her cras.h.i.+ng to the ground.

The girl's horror of the Raider's touch soared out to every Sime there. He pounced on her, his hands on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, not fondling, but grasping her tightly. When his laterals grazed her skin, she realized what was happening and drew breath for a scream.

It was never voiced. Before the first sound, the Sime had closed her mouth with his and stripped her of life.

Even at a distance, Rimon shared the killbliss of the Simes and the delicious fear of the other Gens when they realized what had happened.

The Gen boy bolted. Hysteria was rekindled in him as he came up against augmenting Simes each way he turned. Finally, he stopped, panting, backing away from the Sime before him-straight into the arms of one who had come up from behind.

He struggled helplessly when the steely arms came around his shoulders, hands on his collarbones-tentacles snaking out to his neck. The moist laterals sought the soft skin of his throat, near the jugular. His attacker took the fifth contact point at the nape of he boy's neck. It was the first time Rimon had ever seen a Gen killed in such a way that he could scream. The sound of his death agony resonated with the fear and killbliss and went on and on and Rimon came cras.h.i.+ng down from his s.h.i.+ltp.r.o.n-induced high into a spasm of nausea. The agony those Gens were suffering was prolonged-much worse than an ordinary kill. When the proper transfer points were not used, they felt more pain, took longer to die-and he had been reveling in it, letting it control him utterly. He, Rimon Farris, who dreaded his monthly kill. Was this what he would be without Kadi?

They were pulling the red-haired girl to the center of the circle now. It could have been Kadi there. He couldn't watch, couldn't feel her die.

He ran, unnoticed by the drunken Raiders, back to the horses, where he leaped astride and galloped away, back toward the road, toward Kadi, toward himself. He had to leave behind the image of himself watching-partic.i.p.ating in-those perverted kills, enjoying it just as any Sime would have.

But the image rose again, and waves of nausea swept him. He had to stop to vomit, retching uncontrollably as chills swept through him with the old question become new reverberating in his head. Rimon is different. Rimon is different.

But if I'm different, what am I? What am I?

Chapter Three.

KILL ABORT.

Rimon caught up with the traders who had Kadi one day out of Reloc-and while he was scouting about to see if there was any chance of making himself known to her un.o.bserved, Wolf caught up to him. The dog leaped on him, licking his face, barking joyously as if he knew Rimon was there to rescue Kadi. He managed to quiet the animal, and backed off, tying Wolf to a tree while he continued his search. Kadi was there, all right-how could he have thought he would not recognize her nager? She was still Kadi, only more so.

Amid the Gen fields ranging from terror to despair, he found one calm to numbness, yet glowing beyond the others with a sweetness.he had never experienced before. She was in discomfort, but not pain-sunburned, dirty, sweat and dust-begrimed, bruised from jolting over the rough roads, Kadi was in the state of any Gen being s.h.i.+pped to market after several days on the road. But this time it was Kadi. It was all Rimon could do to keep himself from rus.h.i.+ng up to demand her release.

And the dealer was Brant, a pompous stickler for the legalities who would never sit still for a quiet little roadside transaction with a bribe to sweeten it.

So Rimon, Wolf in tow, followed them to Reloc, keeping to a safe distance as he watched Kadi delivered to one of the largest establishments. She was the last one in the wagon, huddled down at the bottom against the wall, half-asleep in her exhaustion. One of the Simes unloading the wagon flicked his whip at her bare feet, and Rimon gasped as if he were the one stung. Kadi struggled to her feet, warily watching the Sime threatening to drag her out of the cage with his whip. "I'll walk, thank you," she said with dignity. Dirt, bruises, whip marks, dark circles under her eyes-and still she managed to hold her head high as she entered the compound and the door closed behind her.

Rimon knew it would take over an hour to prepare her, if they wanted to display her today. He also knew the procedures and closed his mind to them. She would be stripped, showered, and subjected to various indignities intended to frighten her. The guards would be allowed a kill-any Gen who made trouble, as an example to the others. Would Kadi be that example? He s.h.i.+vered in the bright sunlight and set about his preparations to buy her and get her away from there.

A short distance from town, he made camp. Kadi would be bone-weary, and probably hungry once she knew she was safe. As he had not brought enough food for a Gen, he did a little shopping and found a barber shop to help him put on his "prosperous jaded gentleman" look. With his boots s.h.i.+ned, a fresh change of clothing, and barbered to neatness, he knew he gave the appearance of a man looking for an exotic kill. His increasing need only added to the effect.

He tied Wolf to a tree and went down the central street toward where he had last seen Kadi. There was a crowd in front of the display. Kadi had been dressed in a bit of filmy green material, and placed on a velvet couch between a blonde in blue and a brunette in red. Quite a picture they made; clearly that merchant knew prime merchandise when he found it.

Kadi was sitting very straight, keeping her legs together -the only way she could keep either dignity or modesty the way they had dressed her. She could hardly move anyway; the jeweled collar about her neck was attached by a fine chain to a stake driven into the dirt. All around her men and women were so displayed, three' to a couch, each in a jewel-like setting. Guards in crisp livery made sure none of the customers examining the merchandise got carried away and took a kill before paying.

By concentrating, Rimon could sort Kadi's field out from the others'. She had gone numb again-her spirits undoubtedly drooping even lower. He couldn't let her see him now. He had to wait until something else stirred her emotions, or the salesman might suspect something.

A couple approached her, the woman saying, "The sign says she's from in-Territory. I wouldn't want to develop such expensive tastes."

"You're right, of course, Bea," said her husband, "but she intrigues me. See how steady she is? We could keep her for a long time. I wouldn't take her accidentally, like the last one."

"And look at her hands," said the woman. "She's used to hard work. We can get a lot out of her while we work her up."

A salesman came over. "You'll certainly get your money's worth with this one. Just zlin that field-solid and packed and still rising. And she's well broken-a bit slow to respond right now because she's been rushed through production. Fresh in today. It makes them a little numb at first, but there's the added advantage of not getting used merchandise-almost like home-grown."

The woman became intrigued. "And just how much would you want for such a one?"

The salesman named an outrageous figure. Kadi looked up for the first time and said with a slight sneer, "The likes of you could never afford me."

Startled, Rimon watched the three Simes zlin her. Then the salesman said, "As I said, folks, when they snap out of it, they come on very strong. Just zlin that nager!"

But the woman linked arms with her husband, pulling him on. "The likes of you, my dear, could never handle the likes of her-let alone afford her."

The salesman turned to Kadi and gritted in an undertone, "No supper for you tonight, and if you scare away any more customers, I'll take stronger measures."

Kadi looked up at him, then away. He didn't scare her. She leaned against the back of the couch, still carefully preserving her dignity. She cares, thought Rimon. Something in Kadi refuses to give up her humanity, even when she thinks she doesn't care anymore.

As Kadi was staring at her hands in her lap, Rimon dared move closer. She looked much better now, clean, her hair s.h.i.+ning again-but the scratches and bruises showed plainly on her fair skin. Another customer stopped, this time a tall blond man. The salesman said, "Have you ever felt a more seductive nager? She's ripe now, but I guarantee she'll get better in a month or two."

"How much?" the man asked, putting one foot up on the platform. A nearby guard unlimbered his whip, coming to full alert. The Sime said, eyes riveted on Kadi, "May I take a closer look?"

Rimon watched Kadi take in the bulging ronaplin glands along the man's arms, the trembling of leashed need. For the first time, he detected a faint glimmer of fear in her and saw what it did to the Sime before her. His laterals licked out of their sheaths, and he leaned forward as the salesman named a figure. He was in no mood to haggle. "I'll take her."

Rimon felt a rush of pure pain and deadly fear that the man would take Kadi then and there. He made one step forward, but the salesman said, "You may examine the merchandise, but remember please that the price will be the same, and a private kill will be much more satisfying than taking her here with all these other fields interfering."

Kadi's contempt reflected Rimon's own-contempt for the man's public display of his need. He expected the man to back off at the derision pouring in from all sides even from the Gen before him. Yet the Sime came even closer to Kadi, reaching out a tentacle to caress her bare thigh, savoring her nager. Rimon stepped up behind the man, expecting Kadi to look up then, but she didn't. She was staring at the Sime before her, her momentary fear gone-and because she did not fear, she was holding him mesmerized with her nager. Rimon had never seen such a thing. Slowly, Kadi's contempt faded, as did the soothing aura of her field. She was... deliberately stimulating the man's need!

"Are you going to let him do that?" Rimon snapped at the guard, who was just as fascinated as the customer. He came to just in time-the Sime's self-control snapped, and he seized Kadi's arms for a kill.

The guard's whip cracked, and the attacking Sime was doubled over, weak with the shock of shen. Rimon seized the moment.

"What's going on here?"

To his own shock, his voice rang in his ears exactly like his father's authoritative tones.

The salesman turned to look at the intruder, and his belligerence melted as he took in Rimon's carefully planned guise. With an obsequious bow, he said, "Yes, N'vet, may I help you?"

Taking his time, savoring the way people parted at his approach, Rimon circled the salesmen and guards and looked Kadi up and down as if he had never seen her before. But out of eyeshot of the Simes, he gave her a quick tentacle signal-let me handle this.

Kadi kept still, her nager ringing with surprise-but that was all right. Everyone on the platform was surprised, no one more than Rimon himself. But now he had to play out the role. "Yes, this one will do. There's nothing better here, and I'm in a hurry today. How much?"

The salesman named a figure twice what he'd asked of the attacker. Controlling his fields and swallowing a lump in his throat, Rimon nodded casually. "Fine."

By this time, the Sime who had attacked Kadi had pulled himself together. He confronted Rimon, still clutching his middle. "This Gen is already sold."

Rimon dinned the man's fields. No, he was not still fixed on Kadi; the shen had broken that link. And, in fact, Rimon himself was in harder need. Indignantly, Rimon turned to the salesman. He didn't have to say a word. With a flick of two tentacles, the salesman ordered the offensive customer removed. The management could make amends to his kind later-he had to stay on the good side of a man who represented the very society from which Reloc made its living.

With another bow, the salesman said, "Shall I have her prepared for you here, N'vet? The Sultana Suite is vacant for the day."

Rimon looked down at the man. "Certainly not. I have my own methods. Have her prepared for the trail. I'll pick her up in ten minutes-no more than that." The only way he might possibly get away with it was to rush them, so they had no time to think. Yet he had to play the role.

He deliberately looked Kadi up and down again, then reached under his cloak for the leather bag of money, which he tossed negligently to the salesman. "That should cover it, and a nice tip for you, too." As he turned away, he reminded, "Ten minutes."

It was the longest ten minutes Rimon had ever counted off-but he let every second of it pa.s.s before he appeared again to collect his purchase, carefully suppressing a sigh of relief.

An hour later, Kadi was riding beside him through the open woods outside Reloc, Wolf running happily beside them. They kept silence as the heavy town traffic thinned, and the farmers and dealers leaving the market at the end of the day turned off onto side trails.

As dusk gathered, they found themselves alone, and Rimon led the horses aside through dense thicket. The little glade surrounding a small brook, where he had pitched camp, felt like home. Swinging down, he gestured at the ring of stones set for a fire, the little lean-to that sheltered some blankets. "Home," he said. "Or such a home as I can offer you, Kadi."

She sat her horse, very still in her plain white riding culottes and stiff white tunic, the collar and chain binding her to the pommel of Rimon's horse, the tags jingling every time she moved.

"Kadi? You haven't said a word to me. You don't have to act anymore. It's over... Kadi?" He loosed her chain, holding up his hands to help her down as he had always done. "Come on, let's get that horrid thing off you."

She let her eyes fall to his face. As if her courage and strength wholly deserted her, her body moved into his arms, and her next breath became a sob. Then she was crying, not hysterically,' but thoroughly and from the depths of her soul. Rimon felt how every sob cleansed her, and in the end when she couldn't stop, he carried her to the lean-to and covered her with a blanket. "Sleep if you can, baby. I'll get the fire going and make some tea."

He unstoppered a canteen and made as if to bathe her face, but she groped for it, and he held it while she drank between sobs. She drank and drank until he pulled it away, saying, "Hey, whoa, how long has it been since you drank any water? When did they feed you last?"

She shook her head, her breathing finally quieting a little. "I'm all right, now. Oh, Rimon, how can you stand the sight of me?"

"You're as beautiful as ever to me, Kadi-more so, if you want to know the truth. And I haven't come this far just to have you die of starvation before I can get you to the border."

The fire was laid ready. Rimon flicked the striker at it, and when it blazed up he set some grain to cooking in the pot slung over it. Meanwhile, he cut a piece of fruit bread, toasted it lightly, and dipped it in the honey crock. He felt the aroma finally waking Kadi's appet.i.te, but when she took the first bite, another tear trickled down her cheek. "Mama's bread."

With one tentacle, he smoothed her hair back and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. "It's been awful, hasn't it? But it's over now, Kadi. You're safe."

"Safe? Maybe to the border, if no one catches us. But then what? What can I do in Gen Territory-how can I earn my way? I don't even know the language-and now I'm Gen, I'm too stupid to learn."

"Kadi!" How could she think such a thing? "Kadi you're just the same. You were never stupid-"

"Neither was Nerob."

Rimon swallowed his fears. No, not Kadi. "Baby, I'm going to take care of you until you cross the border, and then you'll make a life for yourself. I know you can do it."

"You knew I'd be Sime, too-" And then she shook her head, pulling her ragged spirits together. "No, none of this is your fault. It's just that-there's no safety for me in this world, not anywhere."

Rimon sat cross-legged, watching her nibble on the bread. "Do things look so different to you now?" He reached out one handling tentacle to caress her chin where the honey had dripped. Licking it off his tentacle, he asked, "Can't you tell I still love you?"

She stared at him, her nager edged with disbelief and hope. Then she stared deliberately at his lateral orifices, tightened against his increasing need. Out of long habit, she let a finger stray along a lateral sheath, seeking to gauge his condition as the familiar sympathy welled up from deep within her, a.s.suaging his need with an incredible new strength.

For a moment, Rimon's lateral orifices softened and his breath came in a quelled rasp. He wanted her... she wanted to help him. He could feel it-NO! He tore himself away, on his feet and pacing around the fire. His voice shook when he said, "You shouldn't do that now, Kadi."

He felt her startle reflex as she realized what had happened-and yet it was followed by trust. He had to be worthy of that trust... all the way to the border.