If There Were Dreams To Sell, What Would You Buy? by Misha

Title: If There Were Dreams To Sell, What Would You Buy?

Author: Misha
Rating: NC-17 for m/f, f/f, and m/m sex, violence, rape, and murder
Fandom: Blake's 7

Spoilers: hints of first and second season, but AU from 1.6 "Seek-Locate-Destroy"

Summary: Cally isn't rescued in Seek-Locate-Destroy
Length: 36,700 words
Disclaimer: I don't own the B7 universe and characters. I’m just playing with them.

Author's Note: This story was originally published in Southern Comfort #11.5. The title is from the poem Dream-Pedlary by Thomas Lovell Beddoes, 1851

Feedback: Relished at mishamcm@livejournal.com

The ground was parched, the air dry. Between its oppressive heat and its blinding light, the sun over Saurian Major encouraged the planet's inhabitants to seek refuge during the daylight hours. The animal life hid in the caves or dug burrows. The vegetation used conventional techniques to conserve water, as well as methods unknown on other planets -- crawling along cliff-faces to obtain a minimal amount of sunlight, retreating within a shell, folding themselves up and retreating into the ground.

And then there was the other life-form, the plant with animal flesh, which alone faced the sunlight all day long. However it managed to do it, it had taken possession of an environmental niche no other species could face directly.

Or would want to.

Travis was restless. He ran his eyes over the other members of his unit, knowing full well that he had long since run out of things to say to them. He checked his rifle, which was in the same condition it had been the last time he checked. He looked over the rations -- the flesh-plants were the most nutritious, if the most unpalatable. The animals were small and sinewy creatures, hardly worth the effort required to catch and prepare them; the fruits and vegetables were tasty, but lacking in substance. The flesh-plants, however, while dangerously carnivorous, provided one or two dozen kilos of edible matter apiece. Once you were over the initial revulsion at tearing the tough flesh with your teeth and got the hang of it, it became the staple of your diet, with the animals and plants added just to help you keep your sanity.

He passed on more to eat and checked his watch. Finally. They began making their way to the surface, watchful for the enemy.

They weren't expecting what they got instead.

Poison. Raining down from the sky.

There was no escape from it. No shelter anywhere. Even in the deepest caves there was no shelter.

By dawn they were all gone. All of his comrades. All the animals. All the normal plants. The only things left were Travis and the flesh-plants.

And the bodies. A mass burial was out of the question -- these were soldiers who had fought at Travis' side, and he damned well wasn't going to let a single one pass without due respect. The insects were gone, but he still had heat and bacteria to contend with, so he moved them deep into the caves. They still decomposed faster than he could bury them, so he brought them back to the surface, hoping to dry them out and cover them in sand until he got around to permanent burials. Eventually he just settled for keeping them tightly wrapped, so at least each person's remains were kept in one place and not jumbled together with the rest.

The burials took a month. He gave each and every one a full ceremony as best he could. He spoke of his memories of them, the experiences they had shared; when he didn't have enough in himself for them, he perused their possessions for material.

After that, his only real activity was planning how to complete the assignment. He developed several different strategies, all of which showed promise, but never came up with one he could perform by himself.

Six months passed, but the flora and fauna did not return. He ate the flesh-plants; they tried to eat him in return. It was a pity they weren't challenging adversaries; it would at least have given him something to do.

Nine months.

Twelve.

Alone. So alone.

Travis sat up suddenly, his single eye wide, but no scream in his throat. It took him a moment to recognise his quarters. He pounded the comm button with his fist.

"Prisoner status?"

"All secure, sir," responded a male voice.

"Give me the Project Head."

"Yes, sir." There was a brief pause.

"Zayder here, sir." This one was a female voice.

"When will she be ready?"

"1400 hours, as scheduled, sir."

"Make it 0700."

There was a brief pause. A very brief one; the Project Head knew better than to argue with Travis.

"0700, sir."

Travis jabbed at the button and got out of bed.

So alone.

//I am here for you, Cally.//

Cally opened her eyes. //Zelda!//

//Yes, sister. You are safe now. I will make you well.//

The hand caressing her cheek was soft, warm, and above all, familiar. Not as her own hand would feel, although anyone else would find her touch identical to her clone-sister's. She knew Zelda's touch from all others.

Cally breathed softly as Zelda's hands massaged the sore muscles in her neck and shoulders. //So much pain. I had become accustomed to it.//

//Am I making it worse, sister?//

//No! Do not stop. There is no way beyond it without passing through it. I welcome the chance to see its ending. I will face all of it, sister, for I trust you to rescue me from it.//

//I shall, Cally.//

//How I have missed your touch.// Cally tried to wrap her arms around her twin's waist, but she could not even move for that.

//Hush, sister. You need rest. Do not attempt to move. I shall see to all things.//

Zelda's face drew close to hers. She could see her own face reflected in Zelda's eyes, more tired, more worn, more harsh than its replica. Zelda's face was warm and soft. //Would that I could sink into you, to become one with you.//

Zelda's lips touched hers softly, but the kiss she returned was furious. Zelda allowed Cally to press her lips into hers until Cally thought they would draw blood, her breathing broken and frantic as she tried to draw in Zelda's every exhaled breath, every healing breath of life.

//Please, Zelda.//

Her clone-sister's lips drew away, but Cally laughed aloud as Zelda grabbed her hair, forced her head back, and ran her tongue along Cally's exposed neck, down one side, along her collarbone to the front, and up her throat, pressing harder every second, and around the circuit again and again, grazing Cally's throat with her teeth and biting gently at the side of her neck.

//Yes, Zelda! I have suffered so much, so long.//

//Tell me everything, Cally. I am here for you.//

Zelda's kisses trailed down Cally's body to her left breast, settling softly on the nipple, which grew harder at the warm, moist touch. Too gentle, too infuriatingly sweet; Cally arched her back and Zelda obliged her, welcoming the breast into her mouth and suckling on it. Her right arm slid behind Cally's back, cradling her body as she resumed massaging the sore muscles. Zelda's left hand cupped Cally's right breast.

//They all died, Zelda, every last one. Only I survived the poison. It was lonely before -- they were all human, no one to truly speak to me. But their voices were a comfort, and sometimes, in the intensity of a moment, I could hear them in my head, but just the very surface. Only here can I plunge into a pool of thought and drown in it. More!//

Her right nipple felt painfully hard, Zelda's fingers manipulating it roughly now, as she nipped the left with her teeth. Burning like fire, and Cally wanted it, all of it, the pain as essential as the pleasure. And Zelda, Zelda who knew her, Zelda could know and give it to her, not like the humans, who would shy away from her cries of pain. Zelda who had never been this rough with her, could sense her need for the pain, like a blinding white light that burned the eyes and drew forth tears.

//I buried every last one of them. I performed the rites as best I could, but after a month I had spent all I could say of them. I do not know how long it was -- after a year I began to lose track of time. I began to lose track of myself.//

Zelda's left hand trailed down Cally's to the forest of pubic hair. Cally had not realised how her body was bucking, how she was thrusting her hips back and forth so hard that her arse must have been red and bruised. Zelda's fingers worked into the damp hair and lubed themselves liberally with her juices, then spread the hair to either side, slid back the hood, and squeezed the erect clitoris. The pain washed through Cally like an electric shock.

//More!//

//Yes, sister. Tell me all.//

//Then Blake's people came. I did not trust them at first, but they convinced me they were on my side. We destroyed the communications complex. We went to Centero and did the same. They did not trust me fully. I know I was not well. Blake had faith in me, but Stannis and Avon had doubts.//

Cally gasped as Zelda slid her middle finger inside her and drew it out again, not slowly and carefully but quickly and roughly. In and out again, building up a steady rhythm as her thumb and forefinger continued to stroke the clitoris. Cally was crying out in pain now with the little breath she could muster.

//Why did they leave you behind? Why didn't they return for you?//

//They had no choice. That is the way of things in war. Some are sacrificed. It was not safe for them to return.//

//Blake would not have left you behind.//

//The others must have stopped him.//

//He wouldn't let them.//

//Then he was outvoted.//

//No! There must have been a reason. What was his next target?//

//Zelda, I don't understand.// Cally felt her climax approaching.

//WHERE IS HE HEADING NEXT?//

Cally screamed. Her orgasm was powerful but brief, washed away suddenly by the question battering her mind. It made no sense; she became confused, and the pleasure died down, exposing the true extent of her pain. Her screams were purely pain now, but were insufficient to mask it for even an instant. Zelda's soft finger inside her became a rough and leathery finger; she could not tell if the violent thrusting had torn the skin.

She opened her eyes, suddenly aware of her environment. She couldn't move because she was strapped down. There was machinery, wires attaching it to her temples.

There was no Zelda. She was an illusion, a mask concealing her actual torturer.

Cally bared her teeth. "Travis!"

"What are Blake's plans?" Travis demanded. He hadn't much time. It was essential that he discover Blake's plans before the rebel could strike again, essential that he have time to set a trap. He wanted Blake on the ground at his feet, his followers lying dead all around him, as he had him four years ago....

Travis staggered back, covering his face with his hands. He had felt the heat of a blaster rifle bolt inches from his skin, but this was a thousand times worse. He knew he'd been hit squarely in the face. He didn't know why he was still alive.

He tried to touch his face with his fingers, but couldn't even feel what remained of his skin, although the smell of the burnt flesh was suddenly overpowering. He couldn't feel...couldn't feel anything with his left hand. Couldn't feel his hand. Couldn't feel his arm.

He uncovered his right eye and turned his head to look. His left arm was gone. I'm still in shock, he thought. If I'm lucky, it'll kill me before the pain hits.

Suddenly his mind snapped back to the present. Cally was still bound to the couch by her wrists and ankles, the wires were still taped in place at her temples. "You did that to me," he murmured, "but you can't maintain your concentration. Your mind is my canvas."

//Is it, Travis? That moment is what your life rests on? The day you became an outcast? I too am an outcast. All of this drive to kill Blake, for that?//

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, still softly. He drew his left hand up to indicate his eye. "I chose this. I could have had cosmetic surgery. But no, better this. Better an outcast. Better someone to be feared on sight as well as reputation. All my choice."

//I am outcast by choice as well, because I refused to let them coerce me into thinking as was expected, as was normal. I made that choice.//

Travis smiled. "You're lying to both of us, Cally. Don't think my desire for revenge on Blake makes you superior. You wanted revenge on Saurian Major. Anything to bring as many of them down with you as you could. You are an outcast for breaking Auron's laws; I am one for enforcing the Federation's. Now who is truly deluded?"

Cally's ability to stay focused on the present was slipping. //You are not Zelda!// She strained at the clamps with no success. Then she was struck across the left cheek. Too hard to be his human hand. She could feel blood trickling from the jagged cut made by the laseron crystal.

He yanked her head back by the hair. His face shimmered and became Zelda's until she forced it back again. His voice seemed very far away.

"You've done your worst, Cally, and it's all imaginary. What I can do to you is real."

He yanked her head to one side. The room spun dizzily, but her sight finally refocused. There was a wall of controls and monitors, dominated by a single large dial set about halfway up the scale. A woman stood waiting for Travis' orders.

"Full strength, Zayder."

She spun the dial to full strength, and Cally's muscles seemed to melt. The unbearable hunger for pain and pleasure was back. The wall console was already blurring when a hand pushed her head to look forward, at Zelda, and she felt her teeth chatter as she forced herself not to beg for more.

//You can tell me anything, Cally.// Zelda climbed on top of her; Cally felt her nipples harden as they brushed against her breasts. //Tell me everything.//

//No!// This is not Zelda. Too heavy, too rough. Travis' form flickered in and out. She knew it was his cock inside her. Not fingers, not an artificial substitute. Don't let that knowledge escape.

But she saw Zelda, Zelda writhing in ecstasy. //Anything for you.//

//Tell me, please.// The pleading face above her matched the plaintive voice in her head. //Tell me what I need to hear, Cally.//

No! Her vaginal muscles were squeezing the...the...Travis' cock! That's what is inside me.

//I will not permit you to control me, Travis. I will control you. I know what your desires are, your weaknesses. I will force your body to my bidding.//

As she came, she projected the sensation of orgasm into his head, along with the image of Blake dying at his hands, while commanding her muscles to squeeze his cock rhythmically. For a brief moment she saw his real face again, his single eye wide with surprise, as he lost control. His body shuddered as he came.

//Remember what it feels like to have me in your head, Travis. It is the last thing you will feel before I kill you.//

Servalan tapped the intercom button. "What is it? I told you I wasn't to be disturbed."

"I'm sorry, Supreme Commander, but Space Commander Travis refused to leave--"

She looked up as Travis entered. "Enough!" she spat. "I'll take care of him myself. What do you want, Travis?"

He leaned over her desk. "They tell me you've cancelled the project."

"That is correct. Is that all you're disturbing me about?"

"We can't stop now. Once we break through, we get more than what she can tell us in a few days of torture before she dies. We get everything in her head about Blake's plans, about the Liberator, everything. And we can't even begin to apply it to non-telepaths until we've perfected it on a telepath. We've waited years for a test subject like her."

"That doesn't matter."

"What can be more important than--"

"That's enough, Travis!" She was standing now, face to face with him. "I have other matters to contend with besides Blake and this experiment. Surely you've been having the nightmares, Travis? Everyone in this section of the station has. Even those who are on-duty while she's asleep are distracted by them."

"The nightmares have nothing to do with our experiments. She's been having them since she was stranded alone on Saurian Major for all that time. If it weren't for that, she wouldn't be mentally ill at all."

"It doesn't matter why she's having them, or why her malfunctioning mind is projecting them telepathically. I want that Auron off the station before any non-secure personnel set foot here. Especially Secretary Rontane and Councillor Bercol. I will not have an inquiry into the Saurian Major affair."

"I can't kill her until she's broken."

"You will not kill her at all. The death-scream of an Auron is incredibly powerful. We'll have half this sector dreaming about Saurian Major."

"Then what would you have me do with her?"

"I've made arrangements to get her away from here to receive treatment. The damage she can do by telling her story is minuscule, one known criminal with a record of mental instability. Spreading that dream wherever she goes is infinitely worse."

"Treatment? Psychopharmacology won't make a dent in that girl's psychosis. And telepathic psychiatrists are not exactly thick on the ground."

Servalan straightened, crossed her arms, and smiled. "Precisely."

"Surely you don't mean...the Auronar don't want her back!"

"I've found someone to intercede on her behalf, and he's convinced them to accept her long enough for treatment. The Auronar value their neutrality; they don't care what happened on Saurian Major. Once she's cured, she's no longer a threat."

Servalan handed Travis a data card. "You will turn her over to him when he docks tomorrow."

Travis eyed the stats. "Him? But he was with Blake on the London."

"Irrelevant. He was one of the convicts who chose not to stay on the Liberator before Blake started his terrorist attacks. He does not know Cally was ever on the Liberator, and it is unlikely he was ever mentioned to her. Neither of them have anything to do with Blake any more."

"But he's a wanted criminal, a convicted murderer."

"All the better -- it means he has no real credibility, either. For now, he is a diplomatic envoy. You will hand the Auron over to him and get back to work on Blake."

"But all the work we've put into her! If she isn't wired up in our lab we have nothing. She'll be out of our reach, and we'll have nothing for our investment."

"The investment, like the experiment, is expendable."

Travis cast about for an objection. He found none.

"Very well, Supreme Commander. I'll see that it's done."

As usual, Cally tried to overpower the guards when they came for her in the morning, in spite of the manacles. As usual, they were prepared for her.

Contrary to the usual, they weren't heading for the interrogation centre. She closed her eyes and concentrated on what she knew about the layout of the station, knowing they would be guiding her every step in any case.

They seemed to be taking her to the docking ports. And Travis was waiting for her there.

They turned a last corner and stopped just outside Bay Three. Travis was inside the airlock. There was another man there as well, someone unfamiliar to Cally. He was nearly two metres tall and solidly built, wearing a dark blue cloak embroidered with a metallic blue thread. Cally was pleased to note that he even dwarfed Travis.

Travis waved to the security squad. "Bring her here." He grabbed her arm and yanked her from the guards' hands. She would have toppled into the large man if Travis hadn't been holding her. She ended up less than a metre from him, looking up into his face.

"She's all yours," Travis said.

"Take off the handcuffs."

//You would be wise to leave them on.//

The tall man looked at her intently, even while speaking to Travis. "I said take them off."

Travis held the chain with his left hand and the electronic key with his right. He tapped the switch and the locks opened. He handed both to the tall man, who just shook his head.

"I don't want them."

Travis shrugged and stepped out of the airlock, the interior door sliding shut behind him.

The large man looked her in the eyes. Both his face and his voice softened considerably. "Do you need medical attention before we take off?"

Cally gave no reply. He pulled out a comm unit and flicked the switch with his thumb. "Send a medic to check her out. I'm...not sure if she needs immediate attention."

//I need nothing from you.//

"You need a hot bath and a change of clothes at the very least. I'm afraid all we can offer on the first front is a sonic shower, but we should do better with the clothes. I imagine you could also use a solid meal."

He stepped out of the airlock, but made no motion to force her onto his ship.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

He smiled. "You have a lovely voice. From what I'd heard, I was afraid you might have stopped speaking altogether. My name is Olag Gan. I'm taking you home."

"I have no home."

"Temporarily, you do. I frequently work as a mediator for the planet Lindor, and spoke to Leehan, the ambassador from Auron. He knows you, I understand, and convinced the Auron government to take you in for medical treatment. The Aurons aren't happy about it, but Leehan convinced them to invite a Lindoran Senator on a diplomatic visit, so as long as your presence is kept quiet, they'll overlook it."

"Leehan? Is he here?"

"I'm afraid not. You're still considered an exile. Besides, both Auron and Lindor are neutral planets. But Lindor has been satisfied with my work as an intermediary, and agreed to grant me temporary diplomatic credentials to take you home. Think of me as an ambassador without portfolio. Without anything at all, for that matter."

"And where is your home, Olag Gan?"

"Me?" His face fell for a moment. When he smiled, Cally suspected it was for her benefit. "I have no home."

Cally actually smiled back. "I understand."

She stepped onto the ship.

Cally didn't pay much attention to her cabin when she first entered it; as soon as she had locked the door, she threw herself on the food. Standard space rations, but they were a feast after the last six days. They were familiar, and didn't seem to be tampered with. Not that she was particularly concerned with that -- after what they'd poisoned her with when she was Travis' prisoner, subtle drugs in her food wouldn't make a bit of difference.

When she did examine the room, the only description she could apply to it was eerily confused. The designer had clearly started from the sterile style so popular on Auron, which Cally had grown to despise. They must have known something about Cally's preferences, because the colours and fabrics were obviously intended to make her comfortable, but whoever had done it did not share those preferences, resulting in something approaching a parody.

She threw the remnants of her prison clothes into the recycler and reached for the shower controls, but stopped short. The room made her uneasy. Eventually she just washed her face and went to look over the clothes they had supplied for her. They were her size, without a doubt, but...familiar. She had seen them before, long ago. Years ago.

//You are safe now. I will make you well.//

No!

Cally dropped the garment and stepped back, her heart beating rapidly. They were Zelda's clothes. The whole room began to make sense: Zelda's memory of what Cally liked, preferences Zelda herself did not share. Cally's eyes darted back and forth, her body paralysed between the urge to have a wall at her back and the fear of touching any of this...this monstrosity.

The door chimed. "Cally, it's Gan. May I come in?"

Her eyes shot to the door. She took a deep breath to compose herself.

"Come."

The door slid open and Gan entered. He began to speak, then turned his head and covered his eyes with his hand. "I'm sorry. I thought you would have been ready by now. I can come back later."

Cally tapped a sensor and the door slid closed. She folded her arms across her chest. "No, now is fine. These are Zelda's, aren't they?"

Gan brought his hand down, but still kept his face turned to one side. "Yes; she thought they would be more comfortable for you."

"I'd prefer something more ordinary. Now stop hiding and tell me what you came here for."

He turned to look at her. She watched him register her welts and bruises and the dried blood that hadn't been washed off.

"Is there a problem with the shower? We can--"

"No. Perhaps another time."

"Very well. We would like to have a doctor look you over. Just a basic scan, to make sure your...injuries get adequate treatment. Nothing intrusive, no sedatives--"

"Fine. Find me a robe and you can take me there immediately."

"Thank you. I also wanted you to know that, if you'd like, my cybersurgeon, Docholli, has built a brainwave regulator to help you sleep, to protect both you and us from the nightmares. I perfectly understand if you'd rather not; entirely your choice."

"Not. If you want me to sleep easier, get me a different cabin."

The medical exam left Cally much more comfortable. She still needed a shower, but the medics had cleaned her up for treatment. She hadn't realised that she had acclimated to a steady level of pain until it began to diminish.

The new cabin was pretty standard for a medium passenger ship -- just the basics, nothing extravagant. Much better.

Gan came by with clothes for her. "Just standard issue robes and the like, I'm afraid. We don't have anything that will fit you. I hope bagginess won't be too much of a problem. We think we've found a pair of boots that'll fit. At least I hope they will, because I doubt we'll find anything closer on board."

Cally glanced at them and shrugged. "There's only one way to find out." She picked out an olive green tunic and belted green trousers, tossed them onto the bed, and unbelted her robe.

Gan placed the rest of the clothing on a chair and turned to go as she removed the robe. Cally looked up at him. "Wait a moment, Gan." She belted the trousers and stood up. "Tight enough to stay on, at least." She sat down, slipped on the boots, and stood again. "Should be tolerable."

Gan was silent, but under the pressure of her gaze, nodded agreement. She cocked her head to one side. "Does this make you uncomfortable, Gan?" She picked up the tunic. "The Auronar are more relaxed about nudity than humans are. I should have asked." She pulled the tunic over her head.

Gan swallowed. "No, it isn't a problem. It seemed to me that there was something important to you about it."

She walked up to him. "Yes, there is. Not just because of my upbringing on Auron. There was not much privacy in the rebel outpost on Saurian Major, and I was glad of it. It was lonely enough. I became very close to some of my companions.

"I was alone a very long time after they died. When you are accustomed to the constant reminders of the presence of others, every movement without them strikes a nerve, even changing clothes. And after being Travis' prisoner for six days...you are on my side, it seems. Your presence is...reassuring."

Gan smiled. "I am, I promise you. And I would be honoured to be present whenever you like. I will stay as long as you like, but I should remind you that you could use a good night's sleep on a real bed for a change."

She followed him to the door and watched him walk down the corridor, then touched the sensor to close and lock the door. She turned and walked toward the shower, eyeing the room's standard-issue furnishings again. Much better. She quickly stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the shower.

It was one of Gan's sleepless nights. One of many; Docholli said that his limiter substituted electrochemically for the effects on the brain of normal dreaming. A patchwork fix to a complicated design flaw: the limiter soaked any emotion out of Gan's dreams. That would drive any human insane within a week, and correcting that defect was too difficult, so they just added circuitry to provide the correct neurochemical balance to keep him sane. Most nights, Gan found that flattened dreams were worse than no dreams at all, so after the two or three hours of sleep necessary to rest his body he stopped trying to sleep any more.

But his difficulty tonight wasn't quite his normal problem. He had dreamed. He had dreamed of trying to sleep in a cave, his back propped against hard stone, his right arm lying across a rifle. Trying to sleep that feather-light sleep, just enough to get your rest, but so fragile you could be wide awake and alert in a split second. The way you sleep when you're expecting someone to slit your throat in the middle of the night.

And the caution was necessary. In his dream, he awakened clearheaded about two hours before dawn, aware that someone was coming, someone dangerous. Gan trained his rifle on the entrance.

The intruder came into view. Space Command uniform. Gan fired. He was on his feet, pointing his rifle down at the body almost as soon as it hit the ground. Gan nudged it with his rifle, then with his foot, then rolled the body onto its back.

Travis.

Good.

Gan fired a few more rounds into the body. Not to make sure he was dead; he was already dead. Just because it felt good to do it.

And that was what kept Gan awake now. A dream like that wasn't possible, not with the limiter. It had something to do with Cally, that was obvious. But that made no sense, either. He had tried it with Leehan. The ambassador was an expert at projecting emotions telepathically -- as a diplomat, he found it to be an essential skill at times during difficult negotiations. Most of the Auronar could only send emotions to other telepaths, and only when in physical contact, but Leehan could influence non-telepaths without even touching them. But he wasn't able to project emotions into Gan's mind, even with physical contact. Even projecting images nearly always failed. Only calm, unemotional sentences worked.

Either Cally's mental illness was responsible, or something Travis had done to her was.

Gan looked at the clock. She was probably asleep. He threw on a robe anyway and headed for her cabin.

He hoped she was awake -- he wasn't sure he could resist the urge to wake her. He set the door chime to its lowest setting; at least he wouldn't wake her on the first try. Before he even touched the sensor, however, the door slid open.

Cally was wearing a pale green night-gown embroidered with darker green vines and brightly coloured flowers. She didn't appear to be surprised to see him.

"Come in, Gan. We must talk."

She turned and led him to an armchair beside the bed. The bed-covers were in the same style as Cally's gown; she almost seemed to Gan to be nesting in a bed of flowers when she reclined on her right side, her head propped up on her right hand.

"You knew I was coming, didn't you?"

"Yes, Gan. I could feel you thinking about me."

"Because I had a dream. A dream which I think was really yours."

"Had you not been warned of this phenomenon?"

"We were made aware of it, yes. But I had reason to think I would not be affected."

She peered at him for a moment, her brows knitted. Then her face suddenly lit up with understanding.

"Ah! You have one of these."

She turned her head to show him a metallic cube embedded in the crown of her head, identical to his.

"You have a limiter as well?"

"A limiter? I suspect mine serves a different function than yours. If anything, mine seems to enhance my telepathic abilities. I was able to read some of Travis' thoughts, those tied to his strongest emotions, and he is not a telepath."

"This must be why you knew I was thinking about you. My limiter is supposed to prevent me from becoming violent, but it is not a precision instrument at all; it is about as subtle as a spike hammered into my head. My dreams are devoid of emotion. If I concentrate, I can feel some of my emotions when I am awake. But in this dream I felt pleasure at killing Travis, which my limiter would not allow even when I am conscious."

Cally turned her eyes downward, away from Gan's. "That is my dream." She paused, then looked up. "And your waking hours carry only the hint of emotions, even pleasurable ones?"

"As if I could smell a meal, but was never able to taste it."

"Can you feel what I am sending you now?"

Gan's eyes closed and his breath caught in his throat. "A laugh, the laugh of a child at play. And now Venda's laugh, as if she were here with me, as if she were never taken from me. The warmth of her hands, the scent of her skin, the taste of her lips."

Gan's head fell back against the chair as he felt hands caressing him, gliding through the hair on his chest, soft fingertips teasing his nipples. He opened his eyes; Cally was merely observing him. He had not been touched. He raised his own fingers to his nipples, still not believing they had actually become hard.

"This has not happened since they put in the limiter."

"Then this is also unprecedented."

He glanced down at his cock, fully erect and poking out of his robe. "Completely. I have not felt even the slightest stirring since--"

He stopped short as Cally ran a finger along his penis, first back from the head to the base along the top, then back again along the bottom, finally circling her thumb and middle finger around the base and slowly drawing them up to the ridge. She looked into his eyes and smiled.

"Come here, Gan."

"I...I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"It is a very good idea, Gan. I am troubled to be returning to Auron. I fear being repulsed by she who is closest to me. I believe you are on my side. We have dire need of each other."

She slid her arms into his robe, wrapped them around his back, and pulled him from the chair.

"I may be too heavy for you."

"You are not too heavy." As if to prove her point, she lifted him onto her. He was hesitant to move too quickly, but she did not leave him that option: before he could protest she had guided his cock inside her. She seemed to have no trouble accommodating him. He began to become disoriented, focused on the moist warmth wrapped around him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as well, and he began to understand: she was reading his sensations from his mind, melding them with hers, and then feeding the mixture back to him. He couldn't resist the current as it swept him along, his emotions intensifying and easing as Cally coaxed their bodies along in parallel, until she permitted him to climax along with her.

Gan's eyes snapped open. All a dream.

But I felt it, all of it, real emotions, complete, not even dimmed, let alone silenced. A dream which the limiter makes impossible.

He climbed out of bed, threw on a robe, and headed for Cally's quarters.

Gan was reluctant to touch the sensor on Cally's door. Setting the chime to its lowest volume brought the dream back vividly into his mind. But not entirely vividly -- all of his senses tried to play back the dream in minute detail, but almost all of the emotional content was flushed away by his limiter. Along with any physical response from his body.

He touched the sensor.

Cally's voice was crisp and low-pitched. "Yes?"

"It's Gan. May I speak with you?"

The door slid open and Gan stepped inside the room. The lighting was low; it would take a minute for his eyes to become accustomed to it.

Gan heard the door close and the lock engage. Your eyes are already attuned to this lighting level. That's deliberate, isn't it, so no one can take you by surprise.

He could make out the furniture now and approached the bed, then saw that it was empty. Even the mattress was missing.

"Here." Cally's voice was friendlier now. Barely.

He looked toward the sound. The mattress had been tucked into a corner of the room, with pillows and blankets heaped onto it. Cally was reclining against pillows piled into the corner.

You've been sleeping in that position for...fifteen months? Two years? Longer?

"What do you want, Gan?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry -- I seem to be a bit disoriented. Maybe I should just start at the beginning. I negotiated the arrangements between Auron, Lindor, and the Federation to bring you to Auron, but Leehan had an additional reason for me to head the mission. I was also a Federation prisoner once. They fitted an implant into my brain. Leehan has attempted to project images and emotions into my mind telepathically, but he was unsuccessful. I can only receive flat, emotionless words."

Gan wasn't sure, but he thought he could see Cally's head dip for a moment.

"Leehan is a very strong telepath."

"Exactly. He consulted with psychiatrists on Auron who are familiar with Post Traumatic Projected Dreams. He was convinced I would be immune to yours."

Cally shifted forward on hearing this, allowing the blanket to drop to her waist.

Gan tried to avoid looking embarrassed. It helped that his pulse remained steady. You're wearing nothing. I am attracted to you, but I know it intellectually, not emotionally. And my body does not respond.

Cally drew the blanket up again.

Now Gan was very embarrassed. And you noticed something in my reaction nonetheless. The worst of both worlds.

"I'm sorry, Cally. It is no business of mine what you wear in the middle of the night."

"I considered the robes, but as you said, they are oversized for me."

And you are unable to sleep in clothing that might restrict your movements in an emergency. It is a wonder that you sleep at all. He would have shuddered had the limiter not prevented it.

Cally's words brought his attention back.

"You are saying that you are not immune to them?"

"Far from it. You dreamed of killing Travis, yes?"

"Yes." Gan watched her draw her legs up to her chest and wrap her arms around them.

Are you thinking of the rest of the dream? Gan considered. Or was that part my own invention? Perhaps I shouldn't have come here at all. Here I am, doing exactly what I did in the dream. Surely you think I'm hoping...

Damn. If it were possible, I would be hoping.

Stop it. We're discussing a dream about killing Travis. The rest doesn't matter.

"I felt it. I experienced your emotions. My limiter should have prevented it, whether I was awake or asleep."

"Which suggests that my illness is far worse than is typical. I am not pleased by this thought."

Gan hesitated at first, but he knew it had to be said.

"There is another possibility. It may be connected to something the Federation did to you."

This time Gan was certain that she dipped her head momentarily before speaking. "This prospect pleases me even less. Travis used a great deal of equipment to take advantage of my telepathy and my illness. But the equipment was clearly external. Your implant is self-sufficient, is it not?"

"It is."

"And is it visible externally?"

"Very much so." He dropped his head and leaned towards her. He felt her fingertip trace the outline of the limiter on his skin.

"This is a terrible thing, Gan. I am sorry for you. But I would have noticed such a thing."

"If what they did to you involves external equipment, the implanted parts may be difficult to detect. My cybersurgeon has taught me a great deal about the techniques used. I recognise that this is not a small thing to request of you, but would you permit me to look?"

Cally was silent for a long time. Even in the dim light, Gan could detect her eyes shifting aside and back as she considered, as if she were examining the room in minute detail.

"You may." She increased the light level, allowed him a moment to adjust to it, then lowered her head.

He looked her over carefully. "There is nothing visible, but there is a small spot where the hair appears to have been recently cut. May I touch the area?"

"Yes."

He parted the hair and felt her scalp. "There is a small amount of scarring. And...there is something here. Two tiny spots of metal. Judging from the location, I would say they correspond to the interface stems of my limiter. One probably focuses your telepathic projections to be input to Travis' device, the other receives the output to feed back projections to you."

He drew his hands away and Cally raised her head. "Would this explain your reception of my dreams?"

"Definitely a possibility. Was Travis also connected to the machinery when he used it on you?"

"Yes, he was."

"That would explain your ability to read some of his thoughts, and to project emotions and sensations into his mind. If the mechanism is similar, the projections from yours may be bypassing my limiter and flowing directly into my output stem. Rather than blocking them, my implants may be enhancing your projections, even interacting with them."

She sank back against the wall, but he couldn't interpret her expression. Maybe the dream I experienced wasn't identical to hers. I'm not sure I want to know what the rest of the crew dreamed.

"And what do we do about this?" Cally's voice had hardened.

"Exactly what you're thinking, Cally. Docholli will need to examine your implants to determine whether my theory is correct, not to mention whether they can be removed. I went through the same experience, and it took me a long time to trust him. Nothing can be done for some time. Certainly not before you see your psychiatrist on Auron."

Her voice was very quiet. "You are correct. Not for some time. If ever."

Docholli stroked his moustache, which had remained dark while his hair and beard had turned white. "Bypassing the limiter screen and feeding directly into the output stem, eh? I would say your theory is possible, Gan. Normally there would have to be a physical connection, wiring one person's input stem to another person's output stem. In your case, the input stem feeds directly into your limiter, but if Cally does have I/O implants, it's conceivable her telepathic projections are being formatted by them into a form that your output stem reads directly. It is almost certainly an unintentional side-effect -- your I/O implants are standard components, and not enough is known about brain cybersurgery on telepaths for such an interaction to have been deliberate."

"That explains the possibility for emotions in my dreams. But you say you had a single dream, whereas I had a dream, then thought I had awakened and wondered about the emotional response, and went to talk to Cally about it, when I was actually still dreaming and feeling emotions."

Docholli rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not an expert in mental illness among telepaths, but from what I do know, projected dreams are identical to the dreams of the originating telepath, with each receiving dreamer taking the place of the originator. The projected dream is more strongly embedded in the memories of the receivers, so they usually remember them while forgetting any of their own dreams. As I described, I dreamed of myself on Saurian Major, rifle in hand, and killing Travis. It ended as I fired more shots into him, just for the satisfaction."

Gan sat with his elbows on the table, fingers entwined, his focus on a spot a quarter-metre above his knuckles. "That's how my dream started, but as I've told you, it continued."

"My dream matches the first part of yours, but I didn't dream anything beyond that. And as far as I know, you, Cally, and I are the only ones who know about this. No one would be surprised to find me studying the projected dreams, so I can ask the rest of the crew exactly what they dreamed. Of course, I can't say any more about Cally's possible implants without examining her, and you've said she won't even speak to me yet, which is hardly surprising. Did her dream continue as yours did?"

Gan's entwined fingers tightened. "I'm not sure. My dream included both Cally and myself, and I was Gan in the dream, rather than her. I haven't asked her directly, but I think her dream did continue and involved me. I have no idea whether it matched mine or was completely different."

Senator Tyce's description of the dream was precise and straightforward. "Then I shot Travis a few more times. I knew he was already dead, but did it just for the pleasure of it. That's where the dream ended."

Docholli's fingers touched the datapad briefly. "And that's all there was?"

Tyce leaned back slightly in her chair. Surely it isn't relevant, she thought.

"That's all."

Docholli rose from his seat and bowed to her. "Thank you for your time, Senator. I've now spoken to everyone on board and can begin to analyse the results."

Tyce watched him leave the room. Of course it isn't relevant. It's hardly the first time I've dreamed about sex with Gan.

"And judging from the crew members to whom I've spoken, our dreams were all identical. Yours, and possibly Cally's, seems to be the only one that went past killing Travis."

There's a relief, Gan thought. Better that the rest of the crew share no more than that.

"As for what to do about it," Docholli continued, "there's not much I can do for Cally at this point. You know as well as I do that there's no chance of her agreeing to surgery; she won't even permit me to examine her, and I can't blame her after what they've done to her. You know what it's like. You've been through it yourself, and without the additional trauma of extended isolation and the complication of mental illness."

"Yes, of course. But having a theory that makes sense eases my mind."

"But there's another way to approach the problem. We do have the option of using the modifications I've made to the limiter."

This time Gan's vision did focus on Docholli's face. "While I'm asleep, and can't attempt to exert conscious control? We've never tried anything like that."

"We do know that the security system works, Gan."

"It still sounds like too much of a risk to me. But I'll consider it. Thanks, Docholli. Once again, I am indebted to you."

"Never as much as I am to you, my friend. Don't forget that."

Gan knelt at the water's edge, twisted the cap closed on a full canteen, and picked up an empty one. His attention was suddenly drawn by a splash to his right.

It was a fish, alive and lively, silver in colour with a blue tail fin. Alive; had the river finally scoured itself clean? He dipped the canteen in the running water until it was full. As he replaced the cap he watched the ripples in the water die away, the scattered shards of his reflection settling into their proper places again.

His reflection looked so old and weary -- had he aged so much, as if the passing days were longer than mere days, as long as they felt to him?

Suddenly his image was joined by a second reflection, his once again, but younger -- no, not younger, but happier, less careworn, as he had been when he was merely living under the shadow of death, rather than living in hell.

A hand touched his shoulder, and he turned. He rose to his feet and stood level with the other, the happier, fresher twin. The other again rested a hand on Gan's shoulder.

"Greetings, brother. The desolation is over." He held out an apple.

"Thank you, brother." Gan took the apple and examined it. Not one that had been stored and shipped, but one freshly grown, ripened here and now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gan caught a metallic flash. He grabbed his twin's wrist and deflected the path of his swing, the sharp blade missing him by the width of a spider web.

Gan pulled the arm taut, blocking his brother's body from following it with his back and shoulders. The fingers loosened and Gan wrested the blade free, spinning in a wide arc to strike his twin across the chest, slashing through clothes and skin. The other fell to the ground in a pool of blood.

Gan stood watching the body until a voice drew his attention.

"Here, Gan! Don't just stand there! There isn't much time!"

Gan turned and raced in the direction of the voice, but its owner was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly a pair of hands clamped onto his shoulders and pulled him off his feet and into a cave.

"Cally?"

"It's all right for now, Gan. They won't find us here. But you must be careful. They have many tricks."

"They?"

"Four of them: the Apple Woman, the Unraveler, the Sun at Midnight, and the Goddess of the Land."

"What are you talking about, Cally?"

He didn't hear her answer -- a ringing in his ears blocked out all other sounds.

Then Gan awoke. The ringing in his ears was replaced by the sound of his door chime. He threw on his robe, deactivated the lock, and opened the door. A tall woman entered, tightly wrapped in a scarlet silk robe, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"Senator?"

"Do you have to call me that, Gan? I get more than enough of that at home. This is supposed to be a vacation for me. When you convinced my father to return to Lindor, you had no trouble calling me Tyce."

"I'm sorry. But you might as well get used to formal titles -- I doubt you'll be called anything else on Auron. They're rather formal, and as far as official policy goes, they are permitting you to visit out of respect for your position. The rest of us are simply your staff."

"Leehan explained all of this to us. You aren't a native of Lindor and have only recently been appointed by my father to operate as a government representative. The Auronar government was bound to be uncomfortable with that. I'm the daughter of the President and an elected government official. As long as I'm the official head of the delegation and act as such for formal occasions, they're willing to let you handle all the work details while I get a chance to see Auron. I'll just focus on the sights and ignore what they decide to call me."

"Of course, Tyce. What's the problem?"

"I need to talk to you about a dream. I know about the difficulties Cally's illness imposes on us, but the dream I had tonight struck me as more than that, more than just eavesdropping on her dreams."

"More? In what way?" It was bad enough that Gan's limiter was interacting with Cally's implants; the last thing they needed was for more crew members to have unexpected effects from Cally's illness.

"It didn't feel like I was just receiving Cally's dream. I had a twin sister. She died when we were fourteen, and it was my fault. We were both training to fight, and we were practising. I wrested her knife away from her and cut her. The wound became infected, and she didn't respond to medical treatment."

"Tyce, that wasn't your fault. It was an accident. And Cally's dream has nothing to do with it. I had the same dream, and I have no twin. Cally has a clone-sister on Auron, and I'm sure the twin in the dream is purely symbolic -- she was exiled from Auron for taking part in the rebellion on Saurian Major. Please don't let it upset you."

Tyce lowered her head as she considered, then straightened to look Gan in the eyes. "I don't want to push her; I know she has weightier matters to deal with. But if she is willing to talk about it, with me or with you, it would ease my mind a great deal."

Gan nodded. "I will see what I can do. Give me a few days to determine how best to handle it."

Tyce smiled. "Then I am satisfied. You convinced my father to return to Lindor. When it comes to diplomacy, there is no one I would trust more. Thank you."

Gan watched her leave. He hated keeping things from Tyce, and he knew that Cally had rejected Zelda's clothes and her suggestions for decorating her cabin. But Cally had not chosen to confide in him, let alone to grant him permission to tell anyone else about it.

Gan had deliberately stayed late after his meal. Cally no longer ate privately in her room, but he felt this had more to do with saving him the trouble of bringing it to her than a willingness to encounter the rest of the crew. Now that everyone had gone back on duty, she would arrive.

He heard the door slide open and turned. Cally, of course, with her tray.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you, Cally. I can leave if you'd rather eat in private."

She smiled and settled her tray on his table. "No, Gan, I welcome your company. I am not, by nature, one who seeks solitude. My illness makes companionship uncomfortable -- knowing that someone has shared your dreams when their thoughts are hidden from you leaves me feeling...vulnerable." She sat down, her expression contemplative rather than smiling for a moment, before the smile returned. "But I find you to be an exception, Gan. You have been protective of me in many ways, it seems, and you are not someone who deceives. And now I also know about your limiter. Not only do you understand what has been done to me, you have also suffered having your dreams thrust upon me."

She has heard my part of the dreams? Not all of it, I hope. His eyes turned down to his tray.

"I'm glad it helps," he said slowly. He licked his dry lips and his gaze returned to her face. After a moment of silence, he spoke quickly. "I thought the fewer people there were on board, the easier it would be for you, so the crew is minimal. Aside from my doctor, Docholli, there is only one other person in the diplomatic team, Senator Tyce -- everyone else on board is required to operate the ship safely."

"How is it that you come to do this, Gan? You were a Federation prisoner, and now you are a diplomat for a neutral planet."

"It is a long story. I was sent to a penal colony on Cygnus Alpha, but the transport never reached its destination. The prisoners took control of the ship."

"You were on the London?"

"You know about the London?"

"It was the Liberator that found me on Saurian Major. I worked with them until I was captured on Centero. You, then, were one of the prisoners who chose to leave?"

"Yes. It was a difficult decision to make. Blake tried to convince me to stay, but I felt I had to chose a different way to fight the Federation."

"Because of the limiter?"

"No, it was never the limiter. I am a peaceful man at heart, Cally. I admire what the Liberator is doing. And I am not afraid to risk my life. But I have never willingly killed anyone. The murder for which I was given this implant was an accident. And it was an accident that I killed Raiker on the London during the uprising."

"Why didn't the limiter stop you?"

"The limiter only responds to my thoughts, and all I meant to do was disarm him. Avon, Blake, and Stannis had occupied the computer room, but the rest of the prisoners were recaptured, and Raiker began shooting them to force the last three to surrender. But they used the computer to shut down everything -- lights, gravity, inertial dampers -- to give us a chance to overpower the guards. But Raiker didn't care; he just kept firing blind. I could see the flash from his gun and managed to get to him and disarm him. It was only after the whole affair was finished and lighting was restored that I found out I'd killed him. Another death by accident. I knew it would happen again if I stayed on the Liberator. What would be the point of overthrowing the Federation if no one had the freedom to choose not to kill?"

Cally's eyes turned dark. "I can think of many reasons to overthrow the Federation."

"Yes; I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. But I chose to do it differently. Jenna Stannis has many connections in the smuggling business, and I joined an underground railroad smuggling political enemies of the Federation off Earth. That was where I met Docholli; he was one of the cybersurgeons who was assigned to erase the knowledge of people who knew the location of Federation Central Control. He knew Space Command wouldn't believe he hadn't read the brain prints, and that they would kill him to keep the secret. I helped him escape, and he returned the favour by trying to remove the limiter, but it wasn't possible. So he stays with me and tries to find another solution."

"And where does Lindor fit in?"

"The Federation rigged an election seven years ago, resulting in the retirement of President Sarkoff. He left Lindor, and the Federation kept him captive, ostensibly for his safety. The result was a civil war on Lindor deliberately instigated to give the Federation an excuse for intervening and taking control of the government. The President was the only person whom both sides would support, so we intervened to help him escape, but he was so demoralised by his election defeat that I had to persuade him to even try. I didn't really do anything -- I just told him what people on Lindor had said to me, old friends of his and old enemies, people who were suffering from the war. When he returned to Lindor and restored the peace, he allowed me to remain on Lindor and serve as a diplomat and mediator."

Cally pushed aside her empty meal tray. "It is good to know that those in exile may at least find a foster home. But I sense that you waited here for me for more than just an opportunity to tell me your story. There is something else, is there not?"

Gan smiled. "As you said, I am not one who deceives. As I have said, the head of our diplomatic party is President Sarkoff's daughter, Senator Tyce. She had a twin sister, and was strongly affected by your dream last night. She hoped you might be willing to talk with her."

Cally's hands gripped her tray, her eyes cast down at it. "I do not wish to speak with anyone else. Nor do I wish to speak about Zelda."

Gan watched her dispose of her tray and leave the room.

Gan was awakened by the sound, a murmur or whisper he couldn't quite make out. He left his cabin and walked down the corridor, dark under heavily-leafed trees, until he caught a bright light out of the corner of his eye, just disappearing around a bend. He followed it to the edge of a river, then down a path to an old stone building, covered with ivy, and the last remains of a town that had been torched. Gan threw himself to the ground and shielded his eyes as a pillar of flame erupted and raced down the river. When he looked up it had passed out of sight.

"Here, let me help you."

Gan took the proffered hand. His twin brother helped him to his feet.

"Drink this, Gan. It is nectar collected from the flowers by the river."

Gan drank it and began to feel dizzy. His brother helped him lie down.

"Have no fear. You are safe now. I will protect you."

His brother kissed him, deep and sweet with nectar.

"I have missed you, brother," Gan murmured. "I have missed your touch."

The twin unlaced Gan's shirt and planted kisses across his chest. His hand snaked into Gan's trousers and stroked his cock. Gan started to moan.

"Tell me, Gan, where is Blake heading?"

The sharp rap of wood striking wood. Gan struck the gavel two more times.

"Cally, you are sentenced to live as the red owl does, outcast even from the other birds," recited Gan. "You shall leave Auron. You shall live silent and alone."

Gan watched Cally, just beginning to regain consciousness, bound to a medical couch. Zelda approached stealthily.

"Cally, are you all right? I am here to rescue you." Zelda untied the bonds and held a cup of nectar for Cally to sip, then raised her to a sitting position. Cally laced one arm around Zelda and pulled her into a deep kiss. Time stood still, it seemed, for that kiss, until Cally broke the spell by grabbing a knife and plunging it into the back of Zelda's neck. Blood flowed from the wound and trickled from the corners of Zelda's mouth as Cally swung herself off the couch and pushed her twin against the wall, slashing her face with the knife until it was unrecognisable. Finally she stopped, allowing the body to slide to the floor. Cally was covered in blood. She looked down at Zelda, spat on her, then plunged the knife into Zelda's heart. Cally left it there and walked out the door, laughing.

Cally touched the sensor again, but heard no response from Gan's cabin. The door was unlocked, however. She entered while asking "Gan? Am I disturbing you?"

The illumination inside the cabin was set on low. Gan was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, head down, shoulders hunched. He remained motionless as Cally approached. His breathing was very slow and very shallow.

"Gan? Are you all right?"

Slowly, Gan's head came up, then his shoulders, as if he were growing and not just straightening. Then he stood up. The cabin seemed to become smaller around him.

"I'm sorry, Cally. I hope I didn't frighten you. I was meditating. An exercise in mental control. Trying to retrain my mind to perform the functions it used to, before they yanked them out and replaced them with the limiter."

"I apologise, Gan. I did not mean to disturb you. We can talk later."

"No, Cally, now is fine." He suspected he knew what she wanted to say.

"I suppose the whole crew dreamed about the lights by the river. But I saw you in the role of the magistrate. And I suspect you also dreamed...the rest."

Gan sounded embarrassed as he admitted that he had.

Cally crossed her arms and turned a quarter circle to face the wall. "I'm sure you had already noticed my reaction to my sister's clothing, and the cabin decorated as she suggested, and wondered what had passed between us. And after last night...I think I owe you an explanation."

"That isn't necessary, Cally. Tell only if you want to, if I can be of help."

She turned to face him and sat in a chair as he sat on the bed. "I must tell someone, and you are the only one I trust. Except for Zelda, and I do not know how I can tell her. In order to find out about Blake's plans, Travis created the illusion that Zelda had come to protect me, to comfort me, so that I would tell her everything. I have not seen her in years, not made love to her since my last day on Auron. He raped me wearing her form, using his mind-control devices to force me to respond, even after I had learned the truth. And he has left me with his image interwoven with hers. I cannot face her; any reminder of her throws me into a terrified panic or a blood-lust."

"Cally, I will do whatever I can to help, whatever you ask of me."

"If only I knew what would help. For now, all I wish to ask is that you prevent Zelda from coming to greet me when we arrive, and find some way to explain this to Tyce."

Gan looked down at his hands, folded neatly on the table, as he waited for Tyce's reaction. Tyce crossed her arms and shivered; Gan could feel it even without looking. "It is no wonder she dreams such horrible things about her sister."

Gan looked up at her, pacing a path perpendicular to his line of sight. "What do you mean?"

Tyce turned her head to look squarely at him. "The bloodiness of it. In the first part of the dream, by the river, my sister asked me about Blake. You say that is the information Travis wanted from Cally. But at the end, when she rescued me..." Tyce trailed off and looked at the ground for a second. "There was blood all over."

"Tyce, I thought only Cally and I saw that portion of the dream. Docholli didn't, and the crew members he's been monitoring every morning didn't. They only dreamed the first part."

Tyce unfolded her arms and leaned across the table. "What does this mean?"

"I don't know. It may be that you are unusually susceptible to dreams about identical twins because you were a twin. We'll have to ask Docholli tomorrow morning, but his expertise is only on the cybernetic side. I don't know that any of us will have much time to work on it, anyway -- we'll be on Auron by tomorrow evening. But at least then we'll be able to ask the Auronar experts about it."

She straightened, slowly, and crossed her arms again. She was silent for a moment, no doubt considering the matter, but in the end had nothing more to say. She finally settled for "Goodnight, Gan."

"Goodnight, Tyce." Wishing her 'pleasant dreams' was not the sort of humour that would help just now. He watched her leave, springing from his seat as soon as the door locked. He opened the computer case and attached the two clips to the electrodes Docholli had added to his limiter.

He sat at the desk and took a deep breath. "Computer, verify security sequence."

*Cabin entrance will be security locked when device is deactivated. Reinforced wall and door panels will be put in place. Control will be transferred from this unit to ship's main computer. Security protocols will remain in effect until device is reactivated. State reactivation time.*

Gan began to have doubts. He had done this while conscious and able to concentrate, and never for longer than ninety minutes. But if he was going to forego artificial chemical rebalancing, he needed a full night's sleep.

*State reactivation time.*

"Six hours from deactivation."

*Acknowledged.*

Gan felt a tickle in his head as the computer transmitted command sequences to Docholli's limiter modifications. When it was done, he detached the clips, closed the case, and placed it in the reinforced safe. He heard the time-locks click as he closed the door.

Gan carefully removed his clothes and crawled into the bed, all the time walking on eggshells. He took another deep breath, closed his eyes, and reached up to push the limiter's off switch.

It was dark when Gan opened his eyes. Dark and nearly silent, save for a sound like the distant singing of harp-strings. It rose slowly in volume, until it carried the sound of hurricane-driven waves crashing on the shore, destroying everything in their path.

Gan covered his ears and bellowed back.

Suddenly there was silence. Gan lowered his hands but heard nothing and saw nothing, as if the sound had blinded and deafened him. Slowly, however, they began to recover, and he recognised candlelight, and a table before him, with a large book on it, pages old and worn, opened somewhere near the middle of its thousands of pages. Spread open it was over a metre wide and nearly as tall. Gan leaned over it, his hands resting on the table at either side of it, and tried to read it, but the markings were unintelligible.

And Gan began ripping it to shreds, first a few pages at a time, then a handful, then large sections of the book, the old paper crumbling to dust even as he tore at it, until nothing was left of it.

"What are you doing?"

Gan turned to see a woman wearing a robe, pouring golden sand into her hand from a black velvet pouch. "I am Marda, who taught Leehan what he has taught you. You are not yet ready for what you attempt. The sand tells you what is still beyond your control, as did the book."

She drew her hand to her lips and blew, scattering the sand as if a strong wind carried it. As the cloud settled, Gan saw half a dozen Federation troopers armed with metalloy poles surround him and begin to pummel him with them. He wrested one staff away from its bearer and began to swing it, not even trying to block the other weapons, but aiming for the troopers' bodies, grinning with every crack of shattered bone, the groans and moans muffled by their helmets. When four of them were down, the last two turned to run, but Gan dropped the pole and grabbed them, wrapping his right hand around one trooper's throat and catching the other trooper's head in the crook of his left elbow. He heard the first trooper gurgle as his throat was crushed; he heard first the helmet, then the skull, of the second trooper crack.

Gan's eyes snapped open as if he had been awakened by an alarm in his head. Which he had. He sat up slowly, glancing about as his eyes became accustomed to the light. The cabin had been trashed -- furniture broken, papers everywhere, even a dent or two showing in the wall and door panels. His right hand was bloody and throbbing, but he didn't seem to have seriously damaged it.

Gan just closed his eyes tightly, his head cupped in his left hand, slowly shaking it from side to side.

It took some time for Cally to find Gan; the computers weren't as helpful as she would have liked. She couldn't help running into an occasional crew member; they said nothing and avoided eye contact. Not that they were rude about it; she was fairly certain they would be polite and friendly if she initiated contact, but had been given strict orders to keep a wide berth if she did not. She considered asking, but she wasn't that desperate yet.

Ah, the gym, Cally thought. I should have tried it earlier.

She watched from the door, not wanting to interrupt his exercises. He was bare from the waist up and from the knees down, and facing away from her, but she could surmise some of the motions even when his body blocked her view of his hands. Broad, fluid hand gestures, carefully aligned to parallel and counterbalance each other, as if he were tracing the surface of a perfect sphere. Or moulding the sphere out of clay. She studied the movements of his back and shoulders; his muscle definition was much sharper than she had imagined. He seemed more cuddly than muscular when clothed. He felt soft.

Or would I even know how his body feels? Have I touched him, other than in dreams?

She shook her head rapidly to chase that line of thought far away, and concentrated her attention on the muscle movement, trying to mimic the gestures without seeing them from the front. She smiled; some of them were familiar to her. Leehan had no doubt taught him the Auron counterparts of the exercises he had learned elsewhere.

Then she turned her attention to his legs. More careful movements, foot, ankle, and leg, co-ordinated by rock-steady muscles. A bare toe nearly touched the floor, then was withdrawn; the pointed foot swivelled at the ankle, then the heel settled gently onto the floor. The foot pivoted from heel to ball to toe as he shifted his weight onto it, silently as a cat. Then the other foot repeated the exercise, angled ninety degrees from the first to give him a solid three-point base.

A few more steps, with his hands still sculpting spheres and his eyes locked straight ahead; then he stopped and carefully silenced the motions, like a carpenter carefully packing away his delicate and valuable tools. He stood completely still, save for the muscles in his back revealing his slow breathing.

"I am sorry if I have interrupted your exercises."

"That's all right, you didn't interrupt me," Gan said in a slow pace, timed to his breathing. "My concentration isn't what it should be." He turned and walked towards her, picking up his clothes along the way, but made no move to put on his shirt. No doubt he is recalling my own lax behaviour in this regard, and deliberately refraining in order to reassure me.

"I need to speak with you about last night," she said.

Cally was surprised to see Gan tense up; it was a shocking contrast to the systemic calm he had exhibited previously. Surely this is not so disturbing an issue. His eyes darted away quickly, but only for a moment; he locked his eyes on hers in an unusually determined manner. He took one more slow breath before speaking.

"What would you like to discuss about last night?"

Now it was her turn to become tense. She had thought it a simple enough matter, but Gan's reaction had unsettled her. As she spoke, the possible unpleasant ramifications seemed to loom larger.

"My dreams last night were...different, Gan. I have become accustomed to sensing your presence in my dreams; it is, in a fashion, reassuring. With everyone else, they hear my dreams and I receive nothing. It makes me feel less isolated to have a two-way communication with you. But last night I did not feel your presence. Do you know how this happened?"

His eyes darted down for an instant, then back to hers. "It was part of an experiment. Docholli is unable to remove my limiter; it is too thoroughly tied in to my brain. He has, however, built an off-switch for it. I have practised deactivating it for short periods, using relaxation and concentration exercises to remain focused. I deactivated it last night, specifically to prevent our dreams from mingling. I'm very sorry."

Sorry? Cally smiled; the muscles in her face informed her that they were no longer accustomed to the expression. "Oh, do not be sorry. Being able to turn off your limiter is wonderful news. What is it like?"

Gan's smile was weak. "Unfortunately it is like a great rush of sights and sounds and sensations. Very difficult to concentrate. And when I lose focus, I become destructively violent."

Cally dropped her smile and her gaze. "I am sorry, Gan. I did not realise." She paused for a moment, then looked him in the eye, as if determined not to release his gaze until she had finished. "I have told you that the destructive dreams I have had of my sister are directed at Travis, but I have not told you why I was exiled from Auron, and I imagine the government has not told you, either. The official reason was my desire to join the revolution against the Federation, which was counter to the government's insistence on neutrality. But that was only the final, immediate reason. I have always been a warrior by nature, and that has always made my people uncomfortable. It is something I do not share with any of my clone-sisters. Nevertheless, none of us are eligible for cloning on account of me. Only Zelda has stood with me; neither of us has had any contact with our other sisters for over half of our lives.

"And it is because of Zelda that I understand what these experiments mean for you, Gan. She has suffered solely because of me, when she does not share my shortcomings. But you are a peaceful man at heart, and finding yourself turned into something that is the very opposite of what you believe must be all that much more difficult. Understand that I would do anything in my power to aid you, and losing you from my dreams is the least of sacrifices, if only it proved to help."

She took a deep breath, but both remained silent. Gan nodded, but still did not speak. It would be best if I were to leave. She turned toward the door.

"Wait."

She turned back to face him.

"I am honoured that you were willing to tell me this. And I also wish to tell you something, a secret I have shared only with Docholli. I do not know the extent to which the Federation tampered with my mind. They may have attempted to condition me or modify my memories before installing the limiter. I have no idea which of my memories are real, what may have been erased, or what falsehoods may have been planted. Docholli believes that the confusion and violent thoughts I experience when the limiter is deactivated result from the extensive intrusion of cybernetic implants into my brain -- they were intended to receive and modify all of my thoughts and feelings and tamper with them, and to never be turned off. No attempt was made to enable my brain to function properly without them.

"But I have no way of knowing what I was really like before. Perhaps I was always uncontrollably violent, and my memories were erased and replaced with memories of being peaceful as part of an attempt to cure me through conditioning. Or perhaps I was always peaceful, and these very doubts were planted in my mind to increase the cruelty of my punishment, to convince me that I needed and deserved to have the limiter."

He fell silent, and Cally considered. A more extreme torture than I had imagined. More extreme than any I have seen.

They both stood silent and motionless, until Cally met his eyes and slowly walked towards him. She slid her arms beneath his and wrapped them around his bare torso, pulling herself tightly against his chest, and rested her head on his shoulder. He raised one hand to stroke her hair lightly a few times, but then drew it away to hang at her sides again. And through it all, she detected no movement in him, no change in his heartbeat or breathing.

Cally was just placing her lunch tray in the recycler when Gan entered the mess room. She looked up and smiled, but his expression told her he was very worried.

"What is wrong, Gan?"

"We have a problem. I fear that it would be best addressed jointly among the four of us, and have asked Tyce and Docholli to meet me in the conference room. I know that you would rather not have direct contact with them, and if you wish I can arrange matters differently--"

"--But it is an urgent matter and we cannot afford the time to have you act as go-between. It is all right, Gan. It is necessary, and I will do it."

He breathed deeply and escorted her down the corridor to the conference room. They entered and took two seats as the door closed. Tyce and Docholli were already seated; she appeared to be younger than Cally, not older than her mid-twenties, tall and blonde, with prominently-chiselled facial features. He was older, and not apparently dressed for diplomacy, as Tyce was; his hair was white and dishevelled, his clothes more functional than presentable.

"Cally, this is Senator Tyce of Lindor, President Sarkoff's daughter, and Docholli, my cybersurgeon." He watched Tyce greet the guest with a smile and a nod of her head, and Docholli do the same with a more effusive verbal greeting. Cally responded to each with a smile, a nod, and a brief 'thank you'.

"Let me get right down to matters. When this mission began, my understanding was that the Auronar government wanted minimal contact with off-worlders. Our intention all along has been that the crew would stay at the spaceport, and only the diplomatic party would be housed within the capital. As the Auronar have no established housing for off-world ambassadors, their facilities are limited, and their interpretation of our requests has been very strict. As representatives of the government of Lindor, Tyce and I will each be provided with sizeable quarters. Docholli, as my personal physician, will have a small room adjacent to mine."

He cleared his throat.

"Which brings us to our problem. I had assumed that Cally would be provided with a small room as well, but I have just received the information that the government still considers Cally to be in exile, and officially her presence is being ignored. They will not provide quarters, nor allow the medical centre to take her in-patient. It isn't feasible for her to stay at the spaceport -- aside from the distance to the capital, she will need a quiet place to recuperate from her therapy sessions, and the spaceport will not provide adequate privacy.

"A private citizen, however, has offered her accommodations--"

"--my sister Zelda." Cally's voice was flat and unemotional. "That will not be possible."

"Yes. I would gladly share my quarters, but that is not possible, either. I will be meeting with Auronar officials there, and you must be free to come and go as necessary. And Docholli's are too small."

"What about mine?" Tyce offered. "I won't be using them for meetings, and I'll be at diplomatic functions or out touring the city most of the time. I can arrange things so as not to interfere with your needs."

Cally eyed her carefully. She had the strange feeling she knew this person, had met her before; she didn't feel the immediate distrust that was her normal reaction to people now. Of course Docholli bothered her -- he was, after all, a cybersurgeon. But Tyce gave off the sensation that Cally would quickly come to trust her.

Cally took a deep breath and answered Tyce's offer. "It is not an arrangement the Auronar government would approve of. Given your position, you should not be required to share quarters with anyone, let alone an outcast. Nevertheless, I appreciate your generosity, and I am honoured to accept it. I hope that my presence will not prove to be an inconvenience for you."

Tyce smiled at her. "I am sure it won't be a problem."

Cally had rapidly exhausted her interest in the room itself. The furnishings were typical Auron fare to begin with, which would have been enough in itself to ensure her disinterest, were they not also perfect examples of the decor of a psychiatric centre -- all co-ordinated, nothing so strong or so weak that it stood out. Comforting, in a soothingly humdrum way.

If that sort of thing made you comfortable.

For Cally, it was nearly as unsettling as Tyce's quarters had been. They had arrived on Auron the previous afternoon, and Tyce had quickly been whisked away to introductions, banquets, and meetings, leaving Cally alone with the finest interior decoration Auron could provide. She had spent the evening arguing with herself over whether the risk of encountering other Aurons was worth taking, just to escape that room. Finally, she decided that the architecture and landscaping outside would be just as disturbing.

It was well after midnight when Tyce returned that first night and she was too exhausted for conversation. She apologised and went to sleep immediately. So Cally remained alone, unable to sleep, until daybreak, when she could finally head for the psychiatric centre. Tyce was still asleep when she left.

She shook her head. I am no longer in Tyce's room. I am here for now. Her thoughts turned to the rest of the centre -- spread out over a large expanse, the individual treatment units well-separated, no doubt every one as unobtrusively appointed as this one. For all she knew, they were all identical. And she had noticed the small booths situated regularly among the treatment units. No doubt for screeners, telepaths trained to produce telepathic white noise to screen the patients' thoughts from each other and from the outside world.

And then her thoughts had turned inwards, but she quickly found those the least desirable ones, and returned once again to the furnishings of the treatment room. She was greatly relieved that the doctors arrived only a few minutes later. There were two of them, a man and a woman. He looked to be older, with greying hair and beard, of average height; she was about Cally's age, dark-haired, and tall, roughly Gan's height.

"Thank you for waiting, Cally," he said. "I am Dr. Erven, and this is Dr. Gorin; we'll be your primary treatment team."

Cally accepted the introductions with a nod and watched them settle into two chairs. Dr. Erven continued.

"For the first few days we'll be asking you to provide us with some information. Once we have the necessary background, we'll begin exploring your dream states. My role will be to take up a position within the dream and assist you in understanding and interpreting it. Dr. Gorin will act as an observer, intervening only if necessary to bring you out of the dream."

And to restrain me if I become violent, no doubt.

"We've been given the background on your case, but we will need you to provide detail on it directly. This will require you to telepathically describe to us your experiences on Saurian Major, on the Liberator, on Centero and Space Command Headquarters, and en route to Auron. You will also project as many of the nightmares as you can recall, and provide information on your dealings with the people who appear in your dreams. We'll have a telerecorder as well, to maintain a computer record for consultation. This will be an extensive and exhausting procedure -- you should expect your treatment to fully occupy you during your stay on Auron."

"I understand."

"Good. Let us begin with Saurian Major."

Tyce breathed a sigh of relief as she finally reached her quarters. The first evening on Auron had run well past midnight, but it had only started mid-afternoon. The next two days were long days, but the diplomatic activities ended at a reasonable hour. She glanced at her watch -- after midnight, like the first night. For a telepathic race who prefer to keep apart from other-worlders, the Auronar can be awfully long-winded at political dinners.

She pressed her palm against the sensor and the door opened noiselessly. She left the lighting at night levels, assuming Cally was already asleep, but as she entered the room she sensed someone awake. Her eyes were still adjusting to the darkness, but she was fairly certain that Cally's bed was unoccupied.

"I hope I didn't wake you, Cally."

The response came from the corner of the room to her left. "No, you did not, Tyce. In spite of their best efforts to exhaust me, my doctors have not given me any greater ability to sleep."

Tyce approached the voice and soon made out Cally, propped up on pillows and blankets against the walls, her shoulders wedged into the corner. Why should I have expected anything different? I've seen this in my dreams often enough. Then she reminded herself that Cally was already at the psych centre when Tyce awakened each morning, and did not return until Tyce had already fallen asleep; Tyce had never actually seen her in bed before. Fourteen hours a day of non-stop politics must be nothing compared to eighteen hours of intense psychotherapy.

Tyce gauged the area of Cally's "bed," judged it sufficient, and settled onto the pile, her own back against one of the walls. "I hope this is all right?"

Tyce couldn't see Cally's face well enough to read anything from it, but the tone of her voice betrayed her ambivalence. "I do not wish to keep you awake, Tyce. I will eventually drift off."

Eventually sounds like a very long time. "I'm still wide awake, Cally. If I'm not keeping you up, I'd like to talk a bit."

Cally was silent for a moment, then nodded. Tyce's eyes were becoming more accustomed to the lighting, and the features of Cally's face became distinct enough to read. Tyce nearly started -- admittedly, she had not seen much of Cally in the four days since their introduction, but she was certain Cally's expression now was far more drawn, tired, and hopeless than before.

But apparently Tyce hadn't stifled her reaction quickly enough; in an instant, Cally's usual face returned. So the face she displays to others is a mask, and her real feelings are reflected by...that other face. Tyce shivered.

"Tyce, there is something I have been meaning to say. The Auronar have a saying: one cannot ride a chariot on broken granite, nor on soft sand. My people are wary of extremes. That is why they are so isolated from out-worlders, and so intent on eliminating undesired genetic traits from the population. I am one of the mistakes that slipped by. I have always been a warrior by nature, and this characteristic is one of the rejected ones.

"Now, Auronar grow up in an environment awash with the thoughts of others. The thought of living silent and alone is very disturbing, and in spite of all the time that has passed since I was exiled, I have not recovered from the shock of leaving that environment. The rebels on Saurian Major were all humans. Yes, I was very close to some of them, in the way that humans can be close, but I was always uncomfortable, off balance, unused to their ways of interacting. And then they were all killed, and I was entirely alone.

"Then the Liberator arrived, and it was difficult for me to trust them. They demonstrated that their goals and mine coincided, but I was with them for such a short time before I was captured on Centero, I never had the chance to come to trust them, nor they to trust me. And having Travis tamper with my thoughts has only added to my wariness.

"Now I have always been rough granite, Tyce, but never more broken than now. Gan is the only person I have truly trusted in a long time, the only person I really trust now. And you know what Gan is like -- selfless, caring, honest. And I have seen on numerous occasions now that he has my interests at heart, and will do whatever he can to help me."

Cally wetted her lips. "But I am finding that I trust you as well, Tyce. I do not mean to say that you are not trustworthy, of course, but it strikes me as singularly strange that I have grown to trust you so rapidly. We have barely spoken to each other these four days. You have certainly helped me, and I trust in Gan's faith in you, but this is incomprehensible. If I felt I had learned to trust again I wouldn't be in need of telepathic psychiatry."

Tyce wasn't sure what to say. Cally's eyes seemed almost to be pleading for a reason, an explanation. Tyce put her arm across Cally's shoulders and took a deep breath.

"Cally, I suppose that sometimes one person will be found trustworthy by another for no apparent reason. I never thought I would be such a person; Gan is a remarkable man, and I know I do not possess his gifts. My father is a person like Gan; that is why our people needed him to end the civil war, and why he needed someone like Gan to convince him to return to Lindor. But I will do my best to live up to Gan's faith and your trust. Consider your mysterious trust an obligation on my part: whatever you need that only someone you trust can provide, I will consider it my duty to provide it."

Cally leaned closer to Tyce. "It is a pity I am so wary of my doctors."

Tyce smiled. "It is hardly uncommon." She stroked Cally's hair gently. "Let me tell you a story about Lindor -- there was once a man named Dian, who was the inventor of medicine. He had a daughter named Miac who was a far better physician than he was, and he became so jealous that he murdered her."

Cally was leaning closer to her, allowing Tyce to take her weight, the muscles in her shoulder less tense.

Tyce continued the story. "Now Dian had a son as well, who was named Airmid, who tended his sister's grave, and one day he found an abundance of herbs growing on it, and as he touched each one he heard his sister's voice explain its curative properties. He laid his cloak on the ground, took a sprig of each herb, and arranged the sprigs in a pattern to help him remember what he had heard. But his father found them and took the cloak, jumbled up the sprigs, and shook them loose, so that these valuable secret cures were lost."

Tyce looked to see Cally's head resting on her shoulder, her breathing slow and even, her eyes closed. Well, she trusts me enough to fall asleep like this. Given how little sleep she must be getting, I guess that's a valuable contribution right there.

Cally turned her wrist to glance at her watch, then decided not to bother. In the nine months since joining the rebels, Cally had learned that time passed slowly on Saurian Major. Her watch would only tell her that the interval since her previous time-check had been much shorter than it seemed. She decided to ease the tension by pressing her spine against the hard stone, fitting her lower back into it first, then slowly extending the contact up her back to her shoulders, like sealing the seam on a flight suit. Then she finished by resting her head gently against the rock, closing her eyes, and slowing her breathing.

No good.

She opened her eyes and succumbed to the urge to check her watch.

"It doesn't run any faster if you skip a glance at it, Cally."

Cally glanced up at Tyce and smiled weakly, feeling a bit too sheepish to say anything.

Tyce kneeled beside her. "Surely it isn't your watch again?"

"No. Couldn't sleep."

"Well, you still shouldn't be sitting here. Come on, we'll see if anyone's using the rest room." Tyce offered her a hand and helped her to her feet. "And don't worry, I'll keep track of the time. It's my speciality."

"I have heard that about you," said Cally. "Is it an inborn gift, or a learned skill?"

"A little of both. I always had a knack for it to start. But I used to play the Sports Domes professionally. Team Captain. Many a game is won or lost on whether the Captain knows precisely how many seconds are left in the game when there's no time to check." They stopped at a weapons locker so Cally could store her rifle. "You last checked your watch at 0227 hours local time. 288 seconds have passed since then."

The rest room was empty. Cally settled into a chair; Tyce stood behind her and began massaging her shoulders. "Cally, either you have artificial muscle implants you haven't told me about, or someone's been installing steel cables in your shoulders."

Cally raised a hand and stilled one of Tyce's. "You don't need to do this. I have been neglecting my relaxation exercises. I stand corrected. I will do them and then go to bed."

Tyce's free hand kneaded Cally's shoulder even more emphatically than before. "It's no trouble. In fact, I insist."

"Very well." Cally rose from her seat. "These exercises are normally done in silence. If you do not mind, I can explain them to you telepathically, and you can co-ordinate your massage with them.

Tyce smiled. "Sounds fascinating."

Cally closed her eyes. //Tension is like ice filling your body. Your mind can apply heat to the areas of tension and cause the ice to melt. We start at the topmost portion of the body, the crown of the head, and allow the melted tension to flow downwards as we proceed.//

Cally concentrated her mind on the tension lying at the crown of her head, slowly loosening the frozen mass. She felt Tyce's fingers against her scalp, reinforcing her efforts. Tyce followed Cally's spiral path around her skull, massaging her forehead and the back of her head, tracing the bones rimming the eye sockets, memorising the precise shapes of her ears and her lips, following the last flow of molten tension along her jawline.

Cally's head slipped back as Tyce's fingers stroked her neck with a feather-light touch. Concentrate, Cally. Do not break rest position. She eased her head slightly forward to the proper position as she directed Tyce and her own focus to the two taut muscles at the back of her neck, her mental fire melting the stress as Tyce's fingers worked at them, a deep hard pressure this time. They followed the muscles down to her shoulders, then worked their way around her collarbone. Tyce's touch was soft again, and Cally felt a bit light-headed. Don't let yourself get distracted, Cally. You know you're attracted to her. Concentrate.

She directed her attention and Tyce's to her arms, but after a brief respite found more than tension dripping from her fingertips. She squeezed her eyelids more tightly together as Tyce worked the muscles in her wrists, and tighter still as Tyce's fingers stroked the palm of her hand. Tyce's fingertips working their way into the gaps between Cally's fingers made her long to feel Tyce's tongue in their place.

Cally concentrated on the tension in her torso, remaining focused as she led Tyce along her back. This was doable. She could handle this.

Then she turned her focus to her breasts, and was suddenly struck by an image she usually reserved for when she had privacy, of watching Tyce in the showers, her nipples erect, washing suds from her body. Cally's nipples became erect even before Tyce touched them, and she held her breath when she felt the warmth of Tyce's fingertips on them even through her flight suit. She suppressed a degree of guilt in hiding her true reasons as she directed Tyce to apply more pressure and furiously worked her tension-melting mental heat around her torso while reserving part of her attention for the sensation of Tyce's hands on her. How I'm ever going to make it to 36 centimetres below the soles of my feet is hard to imagine.

No, I'm not going to make it, Cally realised, as the molten stress flowed to the lowest part of her torso. She tried to keep to the purely therapeutic, but as Tyce dropped to one knee, resting her right hand lightly on Cally's butt and pressing her left against her perineum, she dropped the pretence and projected her true thoughts into Tyce's head, images of watching Tyce shower, watching her move during drills, feeling her sweaty skin during hand-to-hand combat exercises. She felt herself approaching climax and fed the sensations to Tyce, fantasising about seeing Tyce's long body spread on Cally's bed, running her hands over Tyce's skin, stroking her clitoris with the tip of her tongue, biting the translucent skin of Avon's neck...

She shuddered and fell to her knees as she came, Tyce guiding her safely to the floor, before even realising what had happened. She turned to look at Tyce. "I am sorry, Tyce. I did not intend for that to happen. But just because I also fantasise about Avon does not mean anything about my feelings about you."

Tyce hushed her with a fingertip placed to her lips. "It's all right, Cally. Better than all right." She helped her to her feet. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"Avon's room."

When they reached Avon's room Tyce rapped on the door, then pushed it ajar enough to pop her head in. Cally couldn't hear any response, but Tyce had apparently received one.

"It's okay for us to go in," Tyce said, smiling broadly. "Prepare yourself for some amazing scenery."

They entered, Tyce stepping to one side and immediately leaning against the wall and folding her arms to watch the spectacle, Cally closing the door behind her with her eyes fixed on the two figures. Gan was on his hands and knees, Avon kneeling behind him, pounding into his arse in a furious steady rhythm. They appeared to be nearing the finale, both men covered in sweat and wearing rapt expressions. Gan's head was lowered, only his sweat-soaked hair visible past his muscled arm and shoulder. His body was nearly still in spite of Avon's thrusting, only a small rocking forward and back and a throbbing of his erect cock indicating Avon's pace.

Avon's movement, however, was vigorous, albeit fluid -- a rapid but constant pace the pair had settled into for their final drive. Avon's skin seemed paler than usual under the sheen of perspiration, the flush Cally would have expected not evident in the least. His arms were rock-steady, palms balanced on Gan's butt, the flexing and extending of the muscles in his upper arms visibly pronounced to Cally as she watched his erect nipples, drops of sweat clinging to the hair surrounding them, and imagined licking up those drops and biting gently on the erect nubs. She heard his breathing grow hoarser and her gaze was drawn upward to his head, falling slightly backward as his breathing quickened, his lips parting slightly, his eyes closed, eyelashes settled on damp cheeks. His breath suddenly caught and the rhythm broke, his movements suddenly erratic as he climaxed, Gan's body also responding to the outpouring of warm liquid into him, his head coming up and mouth opening to emit a long moan before the two men collapsed to the floor, Avon's thighs pressed close to Gan's rump, one arm flung around Gan's waist.

To her surprise, Avon looked up at her immediately and said, "I hope you'll spare us a moment to catch our breaths?"

"Please, don't rush on my account." I won't get bored looking at you in the meantime.

She suddenly found Tyce's arm across her shoulders. "The three of us have been together since before you arrived. We've been hoping you might be interested in joining our little group."

"As you know very well, I most certainly am."

"Oh, good." She tapped Cally's shoulder and they approached the two men and kneeled beside them. Tyce stroked Gan's still-hard cock. "I see Avon has neglected to finish the job."

Avon raised himself onto one elbow. "I wouldn't want to deliver him to you completely used up, now would I?"

Gan chuckled. "I guess he wants you to finish the job. Not that I have any objection."

Cally smiled at Avon. "I guess that means I get you all to myself."

"Lead on."

She helped him to his feet and they left the room. Avon suggested Tyce's quarters, but upon turning down the corridor, Cally said "Right here will do just fine, don't you think?" as she ran her hand down the seal of her flight suit and began squirming out of it. She pushed him against the wall and ran her tongue around his right nipple, drinking up the salty sweat as she felt it harden, fingering the left until a moan escaped his lips. She reached down to stroke him to hardness but he was already firmly erect. She settled him on the floor and straddled his hips, then directed his penis inside her and began to thrust. At first she fingered his nipples and watched his face as she pumped him, his head settling back and his eyes closing as he continued to moan; then her own responses became too distracting and everything became a blur except for the feel of his cock within her and the movements of her leg muscles steering it to her fancy; feeling his damp pubic hair against her labia.

She lost track of the time passing until her motion was suddenly halted by hands grabbing her arms. She opened her eyes to see the black uniform of a Federation officer as he walked out from behind her.

"Travis."

He ignored her and directed his gaze to the men holding her. "We'll keep her. She has value. Take the rest of them to the surface and shoot them."

Avon snarled, but his voice was even and emotionless. "Travis, you are a dead man."

Travis struck his left cheek with the barrel of his rifle, opening a bloody gash. "You aren't important, Avon." Avon tried to squirm free but Travis kicked his face right at the wound and Avon's head turned away. Travis placed his boot on Avon's neck. "Goodbye, Avon."

Travis placed the rifle barrel against Avon's temple and fired.

Gan and Tyce approached, hands on the backs of their heads, troopers guiding them toward the surface. Suddenly they stopped. Tyce walked behind the soldiers holding Cally's arms as Gan turned to look at Cally. "Cally, how much of this really happened?"

She stared at him, dumfounded with shock, until she felt Tyce's...Dr. Gorin's...cool hands an her temples. She felt as if she'd been injected with a narcotic -- she could clearly remember everything that was happening...that had happened...that she had just witnessed, but her emotional reaction to them was muted, so that she could talk about them calmly. The stone walls wavered and resolved into the treatment room at the psych centre.

"There were three others in the rebel group on Saurian Major I became involved with, much as it happened here. Their names were Deven, Bel, and Carris. They bore some physical resemblance to Tyce, Gan, and Avon, but otherwise weren't much like them. You know, of course, who Gan and Tyce are; Avon, if you recall, was one of the people from the Liberator who rescued me from Saurian Major. I did not spend much time on the Liberator before Travis captured me on Centero, but I had a physical attraction to Avon from the start. But back to Saurian Major: those first sexual encounters were not interrupted, and there was no Federation attack. The four of us were together for three months before the poison attack that killed everyone except for me."

Gan...Dr. Erven...kneeled next to her. "And yet the two events are connected here. The attack occurs when you are unable to see it happening until it is too late. This suggests feelings of guilt on your part for being unable to prevent the assault. But since it was poison rather than a combat assault, you had no way of preventing it."

"Perhaps I feel guilty for surviving it."

"Tell me about Avon, Gan, and Tyce, and the connection between your feelings for them and for Carris, Bel, and Deven."

"The parallel between Avon and Carris makes sense to me. Their appearance and carriage was similar, and that drove an immediate physical attraction. I got to know them a little better over time, but the attraction was essentially the same. The connection between Gan and Bel seems purely physical, as they were thoroughly different in personality, and while I do have some sexual attraction to Gan, it is something that has grown out of a developing trust in him while my experiences with Travis have disrupted the trust in my previous relationships. Tyce and Deven were also physically similar, but I became attracted to Deven over a period of time, with both sexual interest and friendship developing together. My relationship with Tyce is very puzzling to me -- less than a week ago I refused to even meet her, and now I have come to trust her and desire her, in spite of having barely spoken to her since then. Gan is the only other person I have come to trust, and it took much longer in spite of the great lengths he went to for me. I cannot belief that simply trusting Gan has cured me and allowed me to trust Tyce so quickly. There is something unusual happening."

"We will examine this at our next session. You will need to rest now, Cally."

After a few days recovering from diplomacy and a week touring Auron, Tyce had settled into a more normal pace. This afternoon she spent in her room, reading up on Auron history. At the sound of the door chime she swivelled in her chair to face the visitor while tapping the entry controls.

For a split second she thought Cally had made a major breakthrough in her therapy. She had been making steady progress, but when Tyce saw her off this morning she looked much as she had from the day they met, albeit more prone to smiling. But now she looked like years had been lifted off of her.

In an instant she realised it wasn't Cally.

"Come in," Tyce said, rising and presenting her hand in the traditional Auron greeting. "You must be Zelda. I'm afraid Cally isn't in--"

"--I know, Senator." Zelda looked down at her feet for a moment before continuing. She lifted her gaze and licked her dry lips. "I thought it would be best to stay away from Cally until her caretakers thought it a good idea. I was hoping to speak with you, actually."

"Of course. Make yourself comfortable. And call me Tyce. May I get you anything?"

"Oh, no, thank you." They both took seats. "I didn't want to bother you, but it has been difficult to get hold of Gan."

"He's the one who does all the work. He needs to keep busy, which for him means twenty-hour workdays."

"Yes. He did tell me it would be appropriate for me to talk to you. I wanted to find out how she was, and Gan said aside from her doctors, you spend the most time with her now."

"Yes, please don't feel that you're imposing on me. She is getting much better. The uncontrolled violence of her dreams has abated, and I am told the dream projection is abating. I still receive them most of the time, but that is just a matter of proximity."

Zelda cocked her head to one side and eyed Tyce closely. "Forgive me if I am being rude, but I sense that you are not entirely pleased with Cally's treatment."

Tyce squirmed in her seat, considered, and came to a decision. "Perhaps you are the person I should be mentioning this to. Only the Aurons knew what Cally was like before her exile, and only you have supported her unreservedly. I have experienced some of her dreams about you, so I can safely say she feels deeply indebted to you."

Tyce paused a moment to consider. She no longer dreams of violence in connection with Zelda. I don't need to tell Zelda about what has been cured. "But I know that she has always had the impulse to fight, and this is not approved of on Auron. But I fear her doctors may be going too far. The only violence she dreams about now is revenge on Travis. It seems to me that this is normal for her, not a reflection of illness."

Zelda crossed her arms tightly across her chest, her gaze dropping slightly. "I am inclined to think you are probably right. I remember some of the things they tried to do to her when she was young. I don't know what Travis did to her -- all I've been told is that she was interrogated and tortured until her release was arranged -- but I would agree that, under the circumstances, violent impulses directed at him are perfectly normal for her."

Tyce exhaled heavily, not even aware that she had been holding her breath. "Thank you, Zelda. I am relieved to hear you agree with me. I was afraid my thoughts on the matter may have been biased by my own beliefs."

"There is one more thing, Tyce, if I may. In case I do not have the opportunity to see Cally at all while she is on Auron, I wanted to leave her a token. Please hold it for me, and give it to her when you think the time is right. I know how Cally feels about Auron art, so I did some research on Lindoran art, and this seemed to be an appropriate gift."

The object she removed from her satchel was a laser-carved onyx statuette of Cally seated on a magistrate's chair, holding a sword in her right hand and raising her left hand in the gesture which signified the opening of Lindoran court proceedings. "My understanding is that this figure represents the Lindoran ideal of justice -- the face shows a woman who has suffered greatly, but the suffering has given her both an appreciation of kindness and compassion, and an acceptance of the necessity for firmness and sometimes harsh action."

Tyce looked over the statuette closely. "It is very well done, and very appropriate. The magistrate is a person with a quick and subtle mind, gifted with keen observation. I see you have not missed the detail of bare feet -- they represent grace and agility, which the magistrate must possess to dance when times are good and to fight when danger threatens. I have never had the talent for art, but my twin sister was very talented. Did you carve it yourself? It is very well done."

It was Zelda's turn to release a held breath. "Yes. In all our years together, I never quite learned how to do justice to Cally's tastes. I know you have only known her a short time, but I sense that you may have a better understanding of her preferences."

"Thank you. I'm sure she will appreciate this. And I'm sure you will see her in person before we leave."

Tyce watched Zelda leave and tapped the entry controls. I am glad you weren't aware that the magistrate also represents someone unable to have a child, or who mourns for lost loved ones, Zelda. I intend to make sure Cally doesn't find out, either.

Marda watched Gan's movements carefully, treading softly around him as he performed his exercises, not interrupting him despite knowing he had an appointment coming up and their session would be brief. When he was finished, she nodded slowly.

"Leehan has done a good job with you, Gan. I am pleased to see he remembers what I taught him. And all without telepathy. I have never tried to teach someone any other way. Most impressive."

Gan closed his eyes and bowed. "Thank you, Master Marda."

She touched a finger to her chin. "A few suggestions, Gan. When in rest position, place the tip of your tongue against the roof of your mouth immediately behind your upper teeth. This ensures the proper flow of energies within your head. Also, look to keep your feet positioned directly below your shoulders. The two streams of downward energy flow are shoulder-width apart, and this enables the central upward flow to complete the cycle."

"Thank you, Master Marda. I shall practise for next time. I still have a few minutes, if you can spare them."

Marda smiled. "You will have other matters to attend to before your meeting. It would be better for me to have left by the time your next visitor arrives."

Gan watched her leave. Leehan told me you had a knack for handing out mysterious predictions. And after that dream, just studying under you is unnerving enough.

"May I have a few moments of your time, Gan?"

Gan turned. "Of course, Cally. What can I do for you?"

She walked up to him, placed a palm against his chest, and looked up at him. "I would like you to have sex with me tonight."

That left Gan speechless. Cally continued.

"For my own part, I feel that this is necessary for me. The association between violence and sex in my dreams has been broken, but I need to prove it so in practice, and I do not dare see my sister until I have done so. I must be able to trust my partner, and also feel confident that he or she will be able to defend themselves if I become violent."

She touched a finger to his lips even before he realised he was trying to say something. "Please let me have my say. I feel that this would also be beneficial for you. With your limiter off I will be able to speak to you telepathically to help you control yourself, and the thoughts we have shared in our dreams will help me to do so even if you are unable to communicate verbally. I know what facilities have been provided in your quarters; you can be bound to the reinforced bed-frame for safety. I am also experienced in hand-to-hand combat, should it prove necessary."

"Cally, this is a terribly risky experiment. I could injure you, even kill you."

"I saw what you did to your room on the ship. I know what I'm proposing and I don't take it lightly -- we will use heavy-duty chains and manacles." She traced a finger down the scar on her left cheek. "And I am a trained warrior. Docholli has shown me exactly how to use the control switch he installed. We are taking every precaution."

For an instant the image of Venda filled his thoughts. My love, I feel nothing anymore, even when I think of you. Do I risk seeing another lover die? Do I risk feeling anything at all?

Gan recognised the sensation he wasn't feeling -- somewhere in his mind a decision had been reached, but what it was and how he had reached it were kept locked away from his conscious thought by the limiter. When he opened his mouth he had no idea what his answer was.

He smiled when he heard himself say yes.

Cally watched Gan finger the manacles tentatively, then turn his head to speak to her.

"I understand some people enjoy these things, but I'm afraid they're a bit new to me."

She smiled and walked closer to him. "Don't be nervous, Gan. It will be all right."

He smiled back, turning his body towards hers. "Nervous? I can't get nervous, remember?" He tapped the top of his head. "Not while this thing's on, anyway."

She placed her left hand on his shoulder and ran the fingers of her right through his hair. "It will be all right." She slid her left hand under the lapel of his robe, placing her palm against his chest. "Though it is a pity you'll have to undress before the limiter is turned off. Once you're in those," she said, nodding towards the chains, "nothing else will be coming off." She realised she was stroking the soft pad of chest hair and fingering an unresponsive nipple. "I hope you don't mind it if I start appreciating things before you can."

"You can tell me all about it when I can appreciate it." He untied his robe and slid it off his shoulders. Cally ran her eyes over him. His body was well-toned, although his penis showed no signs of arousal, but she had expected that. He settled onto his back; she sat on the edge of the bed and chained his wrists and ankles, checking that there was enough slack.

"Comfortable?"

"Quite, especially with you leaning over me."

"It gets better." She reached for the off switch on his limiter. "The computer will automatically reactivate the limiter and release the restraints in six hours, if I...get too distracted and forget."

He smiled. "One can only hope."

She flicked the switch and heard his breathing deepen. A warmth flooded into his smile which surprised her; she had always found his smiles warm, but now she could see how much had been missing. "Thank you for allowing me to share in this," she whispered.

"The pleasure is mine." His eyes closed slowly and opened again; his breaths grew still deeper and longer. She kissed him and trembled at feeling him kissing her back; she couldn't hear his thoughts as she could an Auron's, but she could sense the emotions behind the kiss, the hunger and the pleasure, the feeling of completeness rather than the broken circle of a kiss given from memory with no feeling but pressure in reply. She lost track of how long the kiss had lasted, but finally drew her head back slowly and stood to remove her shirt and trousers, watching his eyes watch her.

"Cally, you are beautiful."

She climbed back into the bed and pressed herself against him. "It seems the limiter prevents you from flattering. You've seen me nude before."

"Ah, but when I was awake I was unable to really appreciate the sight, and you can never be sure about whether your reactions to things in dreams are realistic. Now I know."

She kissed him again while running her fingers lightly over his left nipple, now fully erect, and felt the catch in his breathing through her lips. The kiss continued as she rested her hand on his chest to savour the rise and fall, then moved on to the other nipple. By the time she drew her lips away from his, his breathing had become harsher, still deep but growing more rapid rather than less so.

So sweet, so simple. He was so clearly awash in emotions she refrained from feeding him hers telepathically. Every motion, every tug at his chains was imbued with desire. She crawled onto his chest and planted her mouth on one nipple, wrapping her arms around his torso to feel every shift of his muscles as she teased with her tongue. He was moaning deeply, throatily repeating her name. She laid herself fully atop his body, feeling his skin against hers, squeezing his erect cock between her thighs as she held his head in her hands and kissed him again, until the frequency of her shuddering began to match his. She rose and straddled him, then eased his cock slowly inside her, savouring the pleasure of each centimetre as she prepared herself for more rapid thrusting.

Then she began flexing and extending her thigh muscles, rising and falling slowly at first, then more rapidly, until her own gasping breaths matched Gan's. She resisted the temptation no more, and began feeding her sensations to him telepathically, what she felt looking at him, kissing him, feeling his skin against her own, feeling his cock swallowed inside her. His breathing, his thrusting fell rapidly into synchrony with hers, until she could match the approach of her climax to his. She closed her eyes and threw her head back, her breath catching until she could barely breathe, the sound of Gan's breath catching in parallel rapidly drowned out by the growing orgasm flooding all her senses. She let out a soundless cry as she peaked, barely sensible of Gan's own orgasm inside her.

Their movements quieted and stilled. She sat on her haunches, feeling small bursts of pleasure as his shrinking cock withdrew, her eyes still closed, still unable to catch her breath. She felt too overwhelmed even to fall onto his chest, as if she were being supported by the very air around her, grown dense and cloudy through their churning effort.

Too dense even to breathe. She still couldn't breathe.

Her eyes opened; she felt dizzy as she tried to focus. A hand wrapped around her neck; an arm holding her in her upright position. Gan's left hand was free of the chains. She pulled at his fingers with her hands, but couldn't move them. She couldn't quite focus her vision on his face, nor speak; her telepathic entreaties found no response. And she couldn't reach the limiter switch, couldn't even reach Gan's face.

She jabbed sharply at a pressure point on his wrist, but the grip didn't loosen. Think! Think fast! She drew her legs in tightly until all her weight was being supported by her hands on his wrist, and placed her feet squarely on his chest. Her left hand attacked his thumb, her right struck at his knuckles, and she pushed with her legs as hard as she could. Still no slackening of his hold.

Her peripheral vision went blurrier and blacker. Forgive me, Gan; I'll try not to cause permanent damage. She lifted her left foot and drove her heel into his neck. His grip loosened and she pushed against his chest with her quads again, breaking his hold completely and throwing herself off the bed and out of his reach. She expected to be able to roll with the throw, but the dizziness and blurred vision threw her timing off. Just as well: by the time she had her wind back, her vision had mostly cleared.

Gan was tugging at the chain on his right wrist with his free hand. Oh, no. We can't have that, Gan. She watched him carefully and timed her attack precisely, but not quite accurately enough -- he managed to get hold of her and shake her like a rag doll before she could reach the limiter, like the people trying to ride those huge beasts in the vistapes Carris used to show her. Before she could get her balance back he had thrown her against the wall and gone back to trying to free his other arm.

Okay, Cally, last chance. This one had better be good. She charged forward and grabbed his wrist as he reached for her, swinging her whole body over his arm and landing heavily on his torso, knocking the wind out of him. She scrambled for his head and hit the limiter switch. The tension drained from his muscles as the anger drained from his face; he looked at her in astonishment for a moment before losing consciousness.

Cally, motionless on hands and knees, breathed hard and watched him. She closed her eyes and lowered her head while her breathing slowed, then looked up again. The limiter was back on; she unchained him.

He did say his memories when the limiter is off are foggy when it is back on. Perhaps I could telepathically reinforce the positive parts and blur the ending.

No. He's had his memories tampered with more than enough. In the morning he can decide what he wants me to tell him about.

She curled up against his side and closed her eyes. She remembered his turning towards her and wrapping an arm around her before she fell asleep.

Cally awoke to find Gan already awake, lying on his left side, supporting his head with his hand, and watching her.

"Cally, I'm sorry."

She raised herself on her right arm. "Gan, there is no need for you to apologise."

"I could have killed you, or crippled you."

"We knew there were risks. No irreparable damage has been done." Gan winced at that remark. "Gan, we took precautions. Next time we shall be more careful, use double chains--"

"There will be no next time, Cally. Have you forgotten what happened? It's too dangerous."

"Gan, we have information now. We can take extra measures."

"No, Cally. I can't allow it."

She considered debating the point further, but chose not to. Instead, she simply said, "I suppose I should clean up. May I use your shower?" He answered her with a heavy nod of his head.

All right, I suppose I do have some aches and pains, she thought. She retrieved some medical supplies from the cabinet and looked herself over. Nothing very serious. She was able to treat most of them with the basic supplies. The only injuries which were immediately obvious were the bruises on her neck. It's a good thing the shirt I was wearing is a turtleneck.

She showered quickly. When she emerged, Gan was sitting on the side of the bed, his hands clasped together between his knees, his head down. He barely looked up when she spoke.

"I should be the one apologising, Gan. My illness is cured. I wish I could do the same for you."

He gave no response. She retrieved her clothes and dressed, still watching him. He gave no sign of wanting anything but for her to leave. She headed for the door. She stopped just before touching the sensor and turned to look at him.

"Gan, tell me one thing: is the violence the only part you remember?"

He turned his head slowly to meet her eyes. His voice was flat, and his eyes dead.

"No. I remember all of it. Every last detail."

Cally chose to avoid her associates for the rest of the day. She greeted the Aurons she encountered by the by, but they didn't require any explanations, any answers. She visited some gardens she had known in her youth, and kept the day deliberately uneventful. She sat by a riverbank long past dusk, not returning to Tyce's room until she was fairly certain Tyce would be asleep.

Her timing was correct: Tyce was indeed asleep when she returned. Cally left the lights off, stripped off her clothes, and slipped into her bed. It still felt strange to be sleeping in a real bed, but she was beginning to get used to it.

She woke to bright sunlight, lying in a field that smelled of camomile and cinnamon. She rose and walked to the east until she came to an ancient laurel tree. There was a man sitting among its roots, with long red hair that washed across his eyes. Cally observed him for a moment, then recognised him.

"You are Airmid, son of Dian."

He looked up. "I am glad you are here, Cally. I owe you an apology, and I have something to tell you."

"An apology?"

"On behalf of my father and my sister, Miac. It was my father who replaced Travis' hand, and my sister who replaced his eye and gave him the laseron crystal."

Cally looked slightly downward. "I see." After a moment she drew a deep breath and looked up again. "They were healers. Travis would still be Travis regardless."

"But I have good news to tell you. Travis was brought to trial for his war crimes, and sentenced to death. He escaped, but he is a wanted man."

Cally considered for a moment. "I suppose I am pleased that he has escaped. That means I still have the opportunity to administer the punishment myself." She suddenly turned her head, as if distracted by a sound on the wind. "I must speak to Tyce. Which way to the presidential palace?"

"Follow the river," he said, pointing to the coffins flowing downstream. "Where the coffins pass under the aqueduct is the entrance to the mausoleum beneath the palace. Once the coffins have reached that point, the soul is separated from the body, and the empty shells can be buried. The mourners watch the coffins pass the entrance, then take the path up to the palace, as the souls path has turned away from the bodies journey."

Cally followed his instructions, and when the coffins passed out of sight she walked to the main entrance of the palace. Five guards stood at the door, armed with staves.

"I am here to speak with President Tyce."

"The President is very busy and not to be disturbed."

"It is vital that I speak to her. She has something of mine."

One guard stood directly in her path, his staff held in front of her.

"You may not pass."

She grabbed the staff in two hands. He pulled it back forcefully, but she offered no resistance and he lost his balance. Then his grip loosened and she pulled the staff from his hands. She fought her way to the door and ran inside, barring it against the outside guards with the staff.

She made her way to the Mourner's Room, avoiding the guards along the way. Tyce was alone in the room when she burst in.

"Blessings on the House of Sorrow," Cally recited.

"Blessings on the soul of Sarkoff, my father, forever free from the shell he wore in life."

"Where is it, Tyce? Where is the statue of the Magistrate?"

Tyce turned. "I am keeping it safe for you. When you are ready."

Cally glowered. "I am ready now. It is intended for me. Give it to me!"

Cally suddenly awoke. She sat upright and turned to look at Tyce's bed. Tyce was awake, upright, and looking at her, the expression on her face mirroring Cally's.

There was silence around the table as Dr. Erven studied the statue. "There is nothing unusual about it. Are you certain Cally could not have seen it in your room?"

"Absolutely," replied Tyce. "I was holding it for her until she was ready to see Zelda."

"And only you and Zelda knew about it?" asked Gan.

"That's right."

"But when Cally saw it in her dream, she knew precisely what it looked like," said Dr. Gorin. "But she didn't know that this sort of statue was typical of Lindoran art. However, Gan did, and it has been observed that his cybernetic implants can transmit thoughts to Cally as well as receive them."

"But I know all sorts of things about Lindor," said Gan. "Why would I settle on this particular item? Besides, I didn't share the dream. Only Cally and Tyce did."

"What about Zelda? As Cally's clone-sister, she could have shared thoughts with Cally quite easily."

"No," said Cally. "I know the feel of Zelda's mind. She has been avoiding communication with me since my arrival, as I requested, and I am certain it wasn't Zelda last night."

"What about Airmid's story?"

"I told Cally a little about Airmid recently, but I never described him, nor did I describe the legend of Dian replacing the warrior Nuada's lost hand with a metal one, and Miac giving him a new eye and real hand. Nor did I tell her that Nuada paid them with a yellow diamond. And Gan didn't know the legends, either, nor does Zelda."

Dr. Erven steepled his hands. "Even without Cally's dream, there are remarkable similarities between this Lindoran legend and Travis' cybernetic replacements. Cally knew the names of the Lindorans and their legendary healing skills, and so might easily have attached them to Travis' case. From that point, the rest is not so unusual. But then we have the news of Travis' trial and escape, which, again, only Gan and Tyce were informed of. Gan was informed by his trade contacts and he told Tyce, but no one else. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's right," said Gan. "And as for the layout of the presidential palace on Lindor, and the river running by it, Tyce and I are the only ones on Auron who know that."

"There's something more," said Tyce. "I haven't told anyone about it, not even Gan, but yesterday my father was ill. I know today that he is fine, but yesterday there was a possibility that he might die. In Cally's dream, I was President, I was in the Mourner's Room, and she knew all of the Lindoran funeral customs. Gan knows none of that."

"So, in summary," said Dr. Gorin, "Tyce was the only person who knew all the information, and the only one who shared the dream with Cally. This strongly suggests that Tyce did not merely receive the dream, but provided input to it. Now, I understand that you had a twin sister. There is some data on very primitive telepathic connections between human twins, just as Auron twins have stronger telepathic ties than they do with other Aurons, but this has only been observed as a transmission between the two siblings, not an ability to project thoughts to others. You have shown no past signs of latent telepathic ability, and the amount and detail of the information conveyed to Cally would require something much more significant."

"The other alternative," said Docholli, "is some kind of implant, which might interact with Cally's the way Gan's do."

"But I have no such implants."

Docholli walked around the table to her. "There is only one way of confirming that, if I may have your permission."

She nodded, and he carefully examined her scalp. "We have an answer. Tyce has cybernetic implants."

"That is impossible," Tyce exclaimed, as Docholli continued to examine her. "If you think I would have allowed Federation doctors to get their hands on me, after what they did to my father--"

"It appears that they did it before. From the amount of scarring and the way your skin has responded to the procedure, you would have had to have been an adolescent when this was done. This work is at least seven years old."

"Seven years? Well, there were Federation doctors on Lindor before the rigged election, but they only treated Federation patients. We only received care from Lindoran doctors."

"Are you certain? I know you were just an adolescent, but perhaps in an extreme case? Federation medicine is more advanced than Lindoran doctors can provide."

Tyce was silent, then jumped up. "Yes, there was one occasion. My sister and I were fencing and I stabbed her. Our doctors could do nothing, so we asked the Federation doctors to try. I was in a panic, and they said they had a simple mind-calming treatment. I don't think they could have had me for more than half an hour."

"A good cybersurgeon could install these and give the calming treatment in that much time. Do you know the name of the doctor who treated you?"

"I'm not sure. I think it was a woman. But she was busy trying to save Sart, so she was only with me briefly."

Docholli scratched his beard. "I'm going to suggest a name: Zayder."

Tyce considered it. "That sounds familiar. I remember my father putting his arm around me after the treatment and saying 'Thank you, Dr. Zayder', and telling me to thank her as well."

"I remember that name," said Cally. "When Travis interrogated me, the woman at the controls was called Zayder."

Docholli let out a long breath. "Zayder is very good at what she does. Unfortunate, given what she does. I didn't know she had been to Lindor, but I heard she was on a project that failed and disappeared for several years, taking the remaining project funds and all her equipment with her. After the Freedom Party rebellion was crushed, experts in mindwiping and conditioning were in great demand, and Zayder's failure and crimes were forgiven. I, too, was forced into that work, which was when I first met Zayder. I preferred field surgery, when I could repair damage instead of inducing it, but Zayder had even worse things in mind: she was interested in mind control and interrogation. She developed the limiter. Gan's was the second prototype; shortly after his was installed, the patient with the first one went berserk and killed fourteen people. That's why they sent Gan to Cygnus Alpha; they knew his would break down eventually. They determined that the regular maintenance for the limiter was too much trouble. Fortunately, I've been able to keep Gan's in good order.

"Even after the limiter project was cancelled, however, Zayder was still highly regarded, and permitted to work on another pet project of hers, working with humans, particularly twins, who displayed some minimal gift for telepathy, and trying to recreate it electronically for interrogation and mind control."

Cally's eyes seemed to glow. "Then I hope her failure with me finally got her her well-deserved execution."

Cally raised her hand to touch the door chime, but found herself hesitating. Not that it matters. She knows I am here, just as I know she is coming to the door.

The door slid open.

"I am glad you are able to come," Zelda said. "I could tell it would be soon. I could feel you reaching to me."

Cally spent a long time simply looking at her. Did I ever look like that? She is more beautiful than I remembered.

//You have always been beautiful, Cally.//

Cally's perceptions seemed to grow hazy. Even in Zelda's presence, she had her fighter's instincts; nevertheless, she was startled to find Zelda's arms wrapped around her shoulders. She scanned Zelda's features, committing them to memory, as she had done the last time, her last day on Auron. She ran a fingertip across Zelda's lips.

//There were many times on Saurian Major when I traced my own lips, to contrast them with my memory of yours on that last day.// Zelda's eyes closed as Cally accompanied the silent words with a telepathic record of the sensation. Cally leaned closer to those lips. //Not dry and cracked, as mine sometimes were, when the water had to be rationed.//

Cally tilted her head and kissed Zelda, a gentle pressure which Zelda matched in return, even while her hold around Cally's shoulders tightened, and Cally's hold around her waist grew equally so. Cally felt Zelda's pulse in her lips as thoroughly as in her own mind. Zelda's resting pulse had always been faster than Cally's, and even quickened as Cally's own pulse was, Zelda's had widened the gap. Cally collected every sensation in her body to give to Zelda, who had apparently chosen to do the same thing at the same instant, for the exchange was almost perfectly simultaneous.

For a time, their pulse rates fell into sync. Then the pressure of their lips on each other increased rapidly. Cally could feel the staccato catch in Zelda's breathing through her mouth, the shuddering in Zelda's chest pressed forcefully against her own.

Cally felt the dizziness in both their heads as Zelda finally drew her lips away and loosened her grip. //Come here, now, Cally.// Zelda led her toward the bedroom. As they entered, Zelda turned to face her and ran her hand down the seal on Cally's suit.
//Zelda, one more thing--//

Cally's thoughts were jumbled as Zelda ran delicate kisses up and down her neck. Cally's head fell back and her eyes closed as Zelda slipped the garment off her shoulders. The kisses moved downward as Zelda undressed her, her lips lingering on Cally's right nipple as her fingers stroked her left. When Zelda rose to motion her into bed, Cally realised she had stripped herself as well without Cally even noticing. Cally surveyed the bare flesh, wondering whether her desire to feast on every inch of it would fall before her growing temptation not to hesitate one more second before taking her completely, feeling her muscles contracting around her fingers, hearing her moan as Cally sucked gently on her clitoris.

It did. This time Cally's warrior reflexes did not fail her; Zelda was on her back with Cally's fingers spreading her pubic hair to either side to leave her mouth clear access to her clitoral hood before she even knew what was happening. Zelda gasped as Cally massaged her clitoris with her lips and moistened the tips of her thumbs at the entrance to her vagina. Cally drew the hood back partially and laved Zelda's clitoris with her tongue as she eased her thumbs, nails together, inside her. Zelda wrapped her legs around Cally's shoulders and twisted her fingers into her hair, thrusting with her hips as Cally separated her thumbs and drew them together, pressing against Zelda's vaginal walls, slowly at first and then more rapidly as Zelda's legs squeezed her more tightly and hips thrust more rapidly.

Then Cally's mind was flooded with sensations as Zelda poured them into her. She felt Zelda fling back her head; her thumbs transmitted the sensation of pushing against Zelda's contractions as her own vaginal muscles squeezed against thumbs which were illusory but undeniably real in her mind. The taste of Zelda's juices on her tongue melded with the sensations in her clitoris, sharp sparks of pleasure mingled with just a hint of pain from the now-frantic licking, a ravenous hunger for more which would have started her own hips thrusting even if not accompanied by the sensation of Zelda's bucking.

Cally gasped, feeling the shuddering through her clitoris. She wanted to redouble her efforts, but worried that the mix of pleasure and pain which would be optimal for her might be too painful for Zelda. But suddenly Zelda drew her head up by her hair. //Wait. I want to see your face this time.// She pulled Cally up until they were lying side by side, face to face. Zelda's right hand was still twisted in Cally's hair; Zelda drew her closer until their lips met and then crushed them closer together, sharing with Cally the taste she received of her own juices mixed with the taste of Cally's lips, her tongue, her every breath.

The fingers of Zelda's left hand delved briefly into Cally's cunt before enacting a complex orchestration of movements along Cally's clitoral hood, leaving Cally too dazed to follow them even before Zelda slipped a finger inside to stroke the clitoris directly. Cally moaned into Zelda's mouth as she poured every sensation into her mind; Zelda responded by flinging a leg over Cally's waist and wrapping it around her, her calf pressed against Cally's rump, her foot between Cally's thighs. Cally reached beneath Zelda's leg and slipped her thumb into Zelda's cunt and a finger up her arse, shaking as the sensations in her fingers of feeling Zelda's muscles squeezing tightly around them, of their tips nearly touching with only a thin divider between them, mingled with the feeling of her vaginal walls clutching at the thumb pushing inside her while her arse clenched around the retreating finger. The hand stroked her perineum carefully as the finger and thumb alternately advanced and retreated. Her counterpoint contractions merged with the increasingly firmer touch of fingers on her clitoris; how much of this was due to the fingers themselves and how much to her thrusting was in no way clear.

As they climaxed, Cally felt the sensation of Zelda's dry, breathless throat trying to cry out, but Cally's scream was a perfect match to it. Before she finished Zelda's own voice had joined in, resulting in a rich tonality like bel canto, a single note, yet coupled with its match just a hairsbreadth apart in tone. The cries wavered and died out in unison as Zelda and Cally went limp, their bodies still intertwined, their rapid breathing slowing in sync.

And then the thought returned to Cally's mind. //Zelda, there is something I must tell you--//

//Hush. You need not say it; I knew what would happen all along. Once you were cured, the doctors would try to go further, to 'cure' your instinct to fight. Then the treatment would stop, and your temporary waiver would be over. You would still be an exile. I knew that as soon as I was able to see you again, the time when you would be forced to leave would be near.//

Cally smiled. She wanted to roll onto Zelda and kiss her, but felt too pleasantly limp to move, and instead kissed her telepathically.

The visphone chimed. Cally watched Zelda roll over to answer it, thinking, whoever you are, you are blessed. If you had called a few minutes ago, I might have had to kill you.

"This is Zelda."

"I am sorry to disturb you, Zelda," said Gan's voice. "I've just received a message for Cally."

Cally sat up and peered over Zelda's shoulder. Gan appeared to be concerned, but determined. Tyce was with him, concerned but furious.

"Let me hear it, Gan. Zelda can hear it as well."

"I'll pipe it through exactly as we received it." He glanced down, undoubtedly to work the controls. The image wavered and went black to be replaced by another.

Travis.

"Hello, Cally," he said, smiling. "Remember me? I haven't forgotten you. I have some things to show you. I'm sure you are now saying 'I have no interest in anything you have for me' in that quaint telepathic way of yours. I would assure you that it is of extreme interest to you, but I don't think that will be necessary. I know you too well, Cally, and anything having to do with our short time together is of as great interest to you as it is to me." The smile broadened. "And if that is not enough, I also have information about Olag Gan's past."

He paused to let that settle in, then continued. "I want you to come meet with me. I have attached the frequencies and co-ordinates for you to respond tomorrow at 1400 hours Auron time with your answer." A final pause, as his smile grew increasingly nasty. "Oh, and if you don't believe that I actually possess any information of value, I can prove it. I understand that you are being allowed to visit Auron as a guest of Senator Tyce of Lindor. If you have a cybersurgeon examine her, you will discover that she has brain implants. I have information about her past as well. She is welcome to join you. But just the two of you, no one else. Message ends."

Cally and Zelda looked at each other in silence as Gan and Tyce flickered back into view. "I imagine you want some time to think," Gan said. "We can meet at 1100 hours tomorrow to discuss it, if you like."

"Thank you, Gan." She turned to the screen. "Gan, Tyce, I'm sorry to have involved you in all this."

"Hardly," Tyce said. "We seem to have been involved long before you were. See you in the morning." The screen went black.

//You suspect a trap, Cally, yes?//

//No, Zelda, I don't suspect anything. I know it's a trap.//

//But you will go anyway?//

//Yes, I will. Do you think I am insane to do so?//

//No, Cally. Was I insane to stand by you when I knew what it would mean for me on Auron, when even our clone-sisters refused?//

//Yes.//

//Cally, I am no warrior, and I lack the overwhelming need to fight back against what is wrong that is second nature to you. But there are times when even those without courage will refuse to let injustice pass. Only by your example, your strength, was I able to do so, if only this once.//

//Then I have been a poor example for you.//

//No, Cally. What good would it have done me to keep the affections of our sisters by betraying you? It was no choice.//

//You would have had the three of them, here, on Auron, instead of me, once in many years.//

//No, Cally. I would have had you every day, every hour, and no means of paying penance to your memory. No choice at all.//

Cally had nothing more to say.

//Do you need time alone, Cally? You have a lot to think about by tomorrow morning.//

//No, Zelda, I have nothing at all to think about Travis. I've made my decision.// She threw her arm around Zelda's shoulders and drew her in for a kiss. //All I need to think about for the next twenty hours is you.//

Cally watched Gan across the table, keeping Tyce's reactions visible in her peripheral vision. They had gone over the obvious points: yes, Travis certainly possessed something of value to them, possibly to all three of them; yes, they all knew it was a trap and it was unlikely that Travis' plans left them much chance of getting their hands on them. They had worked out the logistical arrangements to provide a ship for the rendezvous.

And sooner or later Gan will say what is on his mind.

Gan took a deep breath, clasped his hands together on the table in front of him, and gave a small shake of his head before speaking. So it is sooner.

"Cally, I want you to know that whatever information Travis may or may not have about me, I don't want you to do this on my account. You have been cured, Tyce has been unaffected, and Docholli can remove the implants from both of you. You two can walk away from this and go on, and so can I. I don't need Travis. So leave that out of the equation."

Cally nodded, clasped her own hands together, and spoke, slowly at first. "You don't have to worry about that, Gan. I'm doing this for me. I won't allow anything Travis says about you to alter my decisions."

She looked him in the eye. He knows I'm lying. But that's irrelevant. I have to go, whether Gan is involved or not.

And it continues. Gan still has something to say. Something even more difficult.

"Cally, we all know what's going on here. You're going in order to kill Travis. You know I can't participate in this, but you don't need me for it, and I won't try to stop you. But please, just think about what you're doing. This is a personal need for revenge you're trying to satisfy; don't fool yourself into thinking all will be as it was before once he's dead, because it won't be. And don't pretend you're doing it for the good of everyone. Travis must be stopped, but this is not a rational way to try to do so."

Cally licked her dry lips, unclasped her hands, placed her palms on the table, and stood up. "Gan, I know you too well to take offence at what you've said, but rest assured that I've thought long and hard about this. And I am going. If the doctors at the Psych Centre could have changed me enough for it to be possible for me not to go, I would never have been banished in the first place."

Cally worked the controls of the small ship while Tyce read the report on their destination. "Razidan used to be a Federation research installation; it was uninhabited otherwise, so they could carry out sensitive work undisturbed. One area of research was cybernetic implantation; that would explain why Travis chose it. It may have been the place Zayder disappeared to, judging by the timing. With the base abandoned, all she had to do was verify that the infrastructure was in working order and then transfer her equipment from Lindor. "

"Why was it abandoned?"

"No one wanted to be there in the first place. Mountainous surface, no ground level enough or fertile enough to be useful for agriculture. Mean temperature of forty-five degrees Celsius year round. Traitor's Peak is in the area currently experiencing round-the-clock sunlight."

Saurian Major's sister. How appropriate. Cally checked the landing co-ordinates. "We'll be touching down in three hours."

Tyce cleared her throat. "Cally, I want to tell you something I've been avoiding mentioning this whole trip. I didn't realise what it implied until we discovered that I had implants, too. That first night after we rescued you, I did dream about having sex with Gan. I just didn't think it had anything to do with you; I've dreamed about it before. Just the idea of being able to reach Gan emotionally is as important to me as it is to you."

"Then I suppose I should confess to you. One night, on the ship, I did have sex with him."

"You're acting like I should be offended. I'm happy for anything Gan can have."

"It wasn't that simple. I chained him to the bed, and it was wonderful, until he got one arm free. No permanent damage, but he could have killed me. I would be willing to try again, Tyce, with extra precautions, but he refused. You've known him longer than I have; is there any way to change his mind?"

Tyce grinned. "I could always stand guard. It's not like I haven't seen -- dreamed -- it before."

Cally returned the grin. "I wouldn't object one bit. But Gan would say you're too important to put in such risk."

"You're right. Being self-sacrificing is one thing, but Gan has a tendency to treat anything that might be a kindness to him as unimportant. Doesn't he realise how important watching you two have sex is to my work? If I don't see it once in a while, I won't be able to concentrate on anything else."

Cally's laugh was interrupted by a sudden outburst by Tyce.

"Wait! Maybe there's a way around it. Perhaps you could have sex with him while his limiter is on."

The landing area on Traitor's Peak was a sensible choice. As Tyce had described, the planet was mountainous and short on level ground, meaning that space suitable for a runway with a clear air approach was at a premium. As she exited the craft, Cally saw the tail of a reptile just before it scurried out of sight. Too small to be a threat, even in a group.

"Lovely place, Tyce."

"Did I mention that the name 'Razidan' means 'Fortunate Isle'?"

"Seems obvious to me. That must be the entrance to the research station."

"Which is where Travis is expecting us, traps and all."

"Of course. There's nowhere else to go."

They headed into the shaft. It went a long way, circling downwards, before splitting into four tunnels.

"Now what? Do you think he's encouraging us to split up?"

Tyce didn't answer at first. She was examining a section of wall. "This is the way."

Cally came closer. There was a woman painted on the wall with long, flowing hair, gold at the roots shading to blood red at the ends. "Who is she?"

"A figure from Lindoran mythology. She is called the Goddess of the Land."

"Goddess of the Land? I've heard that term before."

Tyce turned to face her. "Where?"

"In a dream. There were four of them. Another was the Sun at Midnight, which we certainly have on this planet. The others were...the Apple Woman and the Unraveler."

"Also figures from Lindoran mythology. The Apple Woman represents death, in the form of a woman who feeds her victims poison. The Unraveler is a spirit who undoes schemes -- the plan is symbolised by a carefully-woven thread or web, and the Unraveler appears suddenly while the plan is in operation and cuts the thread, causing it to go awry."

"The warning in the dream was to beware of them."

"Not innocent and unsuspecting, the way we are now?"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Another fresco."

"Tyce, it makes me uneasy that you always see them first. Do not let Travis use them to separate us."

"Look, here."

The figure showed a young man carrying a large basket across a peaceful field.

"More Lindoran history. This one is called the Flitting Boy. It used to be traditional on Lindor that all rents and leases were due on the same day each year, which was called Flitting Day, the last chance for tenants to choose whether to 'sit' where they were for another year or to 'flit'. A young boy or girl of gentle appearance and sweet manners would walk the town, and the townspeople would place their answers in the basket. There was a village fair as well, paid by the property-owners. One last chance, as it were, for the wealthy to persuade their tenants that the village was a good place to stay and reasonably priced."

"Not an image suggestive of Travis, that's for certain." Cally peered at the lad's head. "What is the matter with his ears?"

"Ah, the ears. On Lindor there is a bird which has no neck or legs, which looks like a somewhat lumpy ball with wings. The boy has wings in the place of ears because he represents the imagination of the tenants. Some may be clever and choose to stay, some may have dreams which carry them elsewhere, but in either case they are considered to be driven by imagination."

"Tyce, why all of this Lindoran artwork? Does this planet have any connection with Lindor?"

"None that we have been able to discover."

"Then it's all Zayder's or Travis' doing. But why?"

Tyce shrugged. "Telepaths are rare. Perhaps Zayder had to focus on human twins. I was an identical twin and the daughter of the President of a planet the Federation already had plans on. Better test subject than most. The Federation was all over the capital at the time."

They continued down the corridor in silence for several hundred metres before Tyce turned to Cally and remarked, "So what do you think is up for rent? My implants are eight years overdue, after all."

Tyce had expected a hint of humour in her response, but Cally's tone made her uneasy. "Why stop there? Mind, brain, why not the whole head? And rest assured, heads will roll before this matter is ended. Heads will roll."

Tyce kept watch while Cally slept, tucked into the wall, her gun ready to hand. These days seeing her sleeping so naturally in that position had made Tyce begin to believe in those former dreams, as if they were truth and this descent into the Razidan research base the lie.

As usual, she had no need to awaken her -- Cally snapped into full consciousness precisely when her shift ended. Whether it was an innate talent, or something she learned to do in response to the disorientation caused by her torturers or her dreams, Tyce couldn't say.

Well, no time like the present to ask.

"Morning."

"Mid-afternoon, actually, Earth Standard Time."

"Now how is it that you do that?"

Cally turned to look at Tyce as her mouth opened, but she then shifted her eyes away. "I learned a few tricks from one of the Saurian rebels. Her name was Deven; she used to be a Team Captain in the Sports Domes. Infallible time sense. A pity I didn't practise the techniques she taught me until my medical stay on Auron. They would have proven useful in Travis' cell block."

"I'm sorry, Cally. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"No," Cally replied, turning to face her. She lifted a hand to Tyce's face and brushed a finger lightly against a cheekbone. "Not bad memories at all. But we must move on."

"Of course. Perhaps you can tell me about something else. I have never understood something that I have heard from every trainer I have worked with: that anger is the antithesis of concentration. I understand the concept, and I see from Gan that he believes he would be more effective were he able to control his emotions on his own, rather than without them."

"That is true. Gan would turn his energies to other pursuits, but for a warrior, anger is simply an opportunity to make more mistakes than you should, and every mistake is a chance for your opponent to win. Anger is like a headlong frontal assault which leaves your flanks unguarded."

"And how have you learned this? Surely not on Auron."

Cally looked straight at her. "No, indeed. I learned a great deal about controlling aggression on Auron, but not as much as they would have liked. The anger I had no need to learn; I was born with it. The techniques of fighting I learned through research, and practice. Then on planets like Saurian Major I learned real combat."

Tyce held her gaze. "But it is different with you. I can feel your anger at times, not as if you are releasing it so that it will not distract you, but as if it remains within you."

"That is correct. The ways of Auron do not approve of warriors. That is why I was exiled. I spent many years learning, both willingly and by force, how to function normally without that side of me. But I never learned how to repress it -- the two skills are independent. Do not attempt to learn warfare from me, for I will only confuse you. At one moment I am calm and rational, at another I am a berserker. Fortunately, on me it works, or I would not be standing here today."

"I wouldn't lay odds on there being anything fortunate about here and today, Cally. What do you call creatures with six arms and no legs which somersault at you with axes?"

"Like those? Things that make me glad we have both projectile weapons and swords to hand."

The tumbling creatures made a great row, axes clashing against the tunnel walls and floor, which Cally and Tyce answered with projectile fire. Most of them fell to the distance weapons.

The half-dozen that got close enough to strike with most of their limbs intact were more than enough, however. Cally tried parrying the axes with her sword while firing, but it was too risky -- at close range random fire wasn't as effective as striking at the limbs with her sword. Even when fallen, there was always a risk that a limb or two would still be functioning.

With just two left attacking her, Cally felt relieved. She had made it this far without losing any of her own limbs, and one of the two had only two arms moving, swinging axes as its spherical body lay in a bloody mass on the floor. Whatever sensory organs they had, which were not visible to Cally, they weren't very precise; their attacks were aimed at her, but simply attempts to make contact, not to disarm her, no organisation among the limbs. Cally took them out one after another, until there were limbs strewn about her along with the mangled bodies.

She turned to see if Tyce needed a hand, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Damn! Cally slashed at one of the bodies with her sword. It was a trap to separate us. I never should have let her come here.

Don't get distracted. Now it gets serious. There's still only one direction to go.

Downward.

The tunnel itself began to change -- less natural stone and more metalloy prefab as she headed deeper.

Sounds beneath her. Machinery in operation. She could feel the electromagnetic resonance at the crown of her head. Not just any machines; machines for cybernetic experimentation.

Cally examined the flooring. Periodic access panels, beneath which she found a crawlway just under a metre deep. She tested the strength of the crawlway floor and determined that it would support her weight, then crawled in and slid the access panel closed behind her. Either Travis expected me to do this, or he didn't. One or the other of us is going to be very surprised.

A loose joint on one of the floor panels of the crawlway revealed a crack of light. Close up, Cally could see that it was indeed a ceiling panel of a laboratory. She was able to scope out most of the room: two entrances on opposite sides; Travis himself at work at one terminal; several sturdy lab benches which might prove useful for cover. And a clear spot she could easily jump to.

Travis would turn to the noise and use his laseron on her. That had to be her first target. Docholli had told her that there was enough feedback from Travis' cybernetic implants to cause the equivalent of pain. Blowing his hand off would probably distract him.

Cally pushed out the panel and jumped to the floor. The timing was perfect -- she finished her roll just as Travis was in profile, the laseron crystal already armed. One straight, clear, perfect shot.

Travis howled, but his battle instincts were still intact. He let the force of the blast help carry him over a bench and out of sight. Cally approached, keeping close to cover herself, watching for any sign of movement. What appeared was Travis' right hand with a gun. Cally could feel the heat of the discharge as she dove for cover.

"Stalemate, Cally," said Travis, his tone of pure authority obscured only slightly by the sting from his wound. "I've done this a thousand times. You won't get the drop on me. In fact, I'm coming out into the open. I trust you to do the same."

Cally wasn't sure if she was surprised to see him do so. He walked out into the open area, his gun still aimed in her direction. Neither the door behind him nor the lab benches to either side were close enough for him to escape a quick shot. I could take him down from here.

She considered it for a long time. Then she stood, her gun on him and her eyes locked on his, and took a similar position across from him.

"I had no idea telepathy was so interesting, Cally. Even after all the time since our last encounter, I retain an intuitive feel for how you think. I have been pondering it -- I have always felt that the way to defeat an enemy was to know how they think. In the past, I have done it through intensive -- some even said obsessive -- research. But to be inside someone's head telepathically is so much richer."

"I hope that isn't the fascinating information you promised me. I'd hate to have come all this way for that."

"Oh, not at all. There's much more, I assure you."

Cally noticed the door behind Travis opening silently. Tyce walked up behind him.

Cally said, "it appears that our standoff is over, Travis." He smiled, until Tyce nudged his arm with her rifle, and he dropped his gun to the floor, raised his arms, and kicked the gun across the floor to Cally. She lowered her own gun, but kept her eyes on him as she knelt to pick up his gun.

That was when Tyce fired at her, and she collapsed to the floor, blackness washing over her.

The blackness slowly faded to grey, and eventually coalesced into recognisable objects. Cally was able to determine visually that she was lying on her back, looking up at the ceiling, before her kinaesthetic senses could do so.

Not the same lab as before. As she took it in, she identified items from the treatment room at Space Command HQ. A wiring harness hung from the ceiling, directing dozens of computer connections into two cables on one side, the ones which were no doubt attached to her implants, and four on the other, connected to the helmet Travis had worn.

Being strapped to the table was familiar to the setting as well. The events leading to her capture became clear in her mind as well.

That couldn't have been Tyce.

Could it? If Zayder was on Lindor and treated Tyce years ago, could Tyce have been undercover all those years?

Could my instincts have been wrong about her? Could she have fooled Gan, her father, everyone for so long?

Or did I only trust her because the implants caused me to?

Well, if that was really Tyce, she already knows where I am. If it was an impostor, the real Tyce is probably still lost in the tunnels. Travis must be counting on her not finding her way back.

And he's probably correct. He would have calculated the odds carefully.

So how do I lead her here?

//Tyce, can you hear me? If you can, I'm a prisoner in Travis' lab. When I got close, I felt the electromagnetic resonance from the machinery in my implants, at the crown of my head. Be on the alert for it, and it will leave you here.//

The door opened and Travis entered, holding his new left hand up and inspecting the craftsmanship. He didn't turn towards her as he spoke.

"You're awake. I must say it is satisfying to know I can make my own cybernetic repairs now. Cybersurgeons are a limited resource. Unfortunately, Zayder's luck ran out with you. She's had failures before, but after we released you and her telepathic interrogation project was cancelled, the Federation worried that she would run off with their equipment and funds, as she had on Lindor, and decided to do away with her. Fools."

Travis flexed his hand muscles, then examined the laseron trigger. "This is the best equipped cybernetic research complex in known space. Even the Federation doesn't know some of the valuable items I've been collecting here. I can do nearly anything a trained cybersurgeon could."

He turned his head toward her with a quick movement, then approached her. "Soon I will finally get to experiment with a telepath again. Without interruption. You made better time getting here than I had expected, so I'm afraid there are still some details I must attend to before we will have the opportunity to be reunited. But don't count on Tyce getting here any time soon. If you enter from the landing pad and follow the artwork, or you know the entire tunnel system by memory, you eventually wind up here. Otherwise you'll be wandering the tunnels forever."

He turned to the door. "I'm glad those therapists on Auron have cured you so well. I'm looking forward to a richer immersion this time. I'm not after immediate information now; I'm a free agent. I remember sharing your loneliness away from Auron, away from telepaths. You'll be happy to know that now that you're here, you'll never be lonely again."

It was at least two hours before Travis returned. "Sorry to keep you waiting. Zayder put a lot of work into making this a one-man operation, but my assistant is of little use for most of the work that needs to be done. Which reminds me, you haven't been formally introduced, have you?"

He walked around the table and touched a signal button. "Sart. Walk. Lab One."

A few moments later the door opened and Tyce's twin sister entered.

"I have no idea how much Tyce has told you, but this is Sart, her twin sister. She died some time ago. Tyce killed her, in fact. Zayder was hoping to experiment on the twins, but that interrupted her plans. However, she was well informed on Lindoran funeral rites. The corpses are floated down a river, but at a certain point the soul separates from the body, and none of the mourners stay for the actual interment of the body. It was a simple matter for Zayder to inject her with stasis drugs after her death, and arrange for the body to be stolen just before burial and secretly sent here, along with Zayder's specialised equipment. There was plenty of liquid currency in the project budget to pay for it all, and her access allowed her to steal it easily. Of course, she herself escaped immediately thereafter, before the Federation could act. It is a pity she was unable to escape from her failure with you, but the Federation had a growing problem with defecting cybersurgeons and had no intention of letting her pull the same stunt she had on Lindor.

"As you may have noticed, Zayder had only limited success in reanimating Sart. She is incapable of speech or independent thought, although she has been able to relearn how to walk and move naturally, and understands about one hundred spoken words. I find it easier to have a computer translate my instructions into a visual walk-through, which she can learn more easily. It's really a fascinating case study -- there are robots with more extensive capabilities than Sart retains, even though large areas of her brain have been cybernetically replaced. However, Sart still has some of her old talents which are difficult to recreate in computer form. She has a good bit of artistic talent, and she does have some memories, particularly old children's stories. She's the one who painted those Lindoran murals that led you here."

He took a seat next to the control panel. "But it is silly of me to be saying all this aloud. The whole point of our being here is telepathy."

Travis strapped on his helmet and flipped a switch. Cally's vision blurred for a moment, then refocused into Travis standing against a background of unlit white.

//In spite of the sudden cancellation of her project, Zayder managed to accomplish enough with your data before her demise for me to carry out her proposed improvements. We were able to feed you the false projection of your sister, but you were able to pick up my memories of Blake as well and project them back at me. I felt the pain all over again, but you were insulated from it. I have corrected those. For example, I have already learned from your mind that you were aware that I could still feel pain from my artificial hand. Perhaps this time you would like to know what that feels like while I am protected from it.//

Cally had again lost sensory input from her body, but she detected herself screaming when the pain hit, white-hot and blinding. She could feel each wire burn, each circuit explode.

//Of course, Cally, as there is no physical damage, this could be sustained indefinitely. But perhaps you would prefer to experience a more 'human' sensation? The sensation of having a human arm and half a face blown off, which you used so cleverly against me?//

Cally had no more breath for screaming as the pain continued to build, with no indication of the pace ever slowing. Then the pain suddenly abated.

//But that is not what I brought you here for, Cally. There are many others more deserving of my revenge. You told me the first time we met that we had something in common, being outcasts. That is truer than ever, now. I devoted my entire life to the service of the Federation, to Space Command. And I was their best. I was everything a Space Commander was supposed to be, loyal to the Command, to his troops, to his assignments. Loyal to his duty to see everything done right. And after demonstrating time and again that I was the best, they put me on trial for it. And I told them where I had learned to behave as an officer, and the hypocrites were too timid to admit it. Well, I understand now what it was like for you to be exiled, Cally, cast out from your only true home.

//But enough of that. It is a natural tendency to babble when released from isolation, and Sart is neither a good conversationalist nor a good listener. Now we both have a chance to escape that, Cally, to be the two telepaths free from constraint. Neither Earth nor Auron has a hold on us. First telepathy, then telepathic interrogation, then mind control. No one in Space Command will care about my death sentence when I have that to offer. Although there are some still in power who were not so fortunate as to die under Blake's attack, and will have to face me.//

There was a telepathic silence as he watched her closely, her only sensation being a minor skin-crawling feeling from having him and his computers in her mind.

//You are resisting! You are not interested in any of this.// His mental image drew in a deep breath and released it. //This is very disappointing. I had hoped we could do away with torture and trickery on this occasion. However, that will not prevent me from getting the job done.//

The white backdrop wavered and was replaced by the still-familiar terrain of Saurian Major. //Here's another life experience you missed out on, Cally. Space Command did not know there was a rebel from Auron on Saurian Major who would be unaffected by the nerve toxin. However, the effects on humans are well documented, from brain prints of test subjects during exposure to it. I'm sure you're curious to know what it was like for your old comrades.//

The first sensation was choking, then a burning in her throat, her nose, her eyes. She found her limbs twitching uncontrollably. Then she became aware of a new threat to her breathing -- whether or not her throat would allow any air to get through, she felt her chest fall into the same random twitching, no co-ordinated effort to draw air in and out.

She could no longer feel anything in her arms and legs, whether they continued to twitch or not. She tried to estimate how much time had elapsed, in the vain hope that she might be saved if she could get out of this hole, but no -- if the gas didn't destroy her brain the way it was destroying her other organs, the oxygen deprivation would.

Then it all stopped dead. All black and silent, all sensations of all kind. Had the gas done such damage that she could no longer sense it eating away at her? Or was this merely the escape into death?

But no, her vision slowly returned. She could see the electrodes she presumed had been attached to her implants, dangling loosely from her side of the wiring harness. Sart was opening Cally's straps with one hand while she moved a bundle of wires with her other hand. Cally struggled to regain her feet, finding that the shock of the experience was rapidly fading, realising that Sart - that Tyce - had pulled loose a bundle of live computer feeds and was waving them across stripped wiring on Travis' side of the cable harness.

Cally's hearing returned suddenly, the utter silence instantly replaced by Travis' screams. He was hunched over the console clutching at the helmet but unable to concentrate enough to get his fingers working properly. Then Tyce's voice squeezed through: "Disable the laseron crystal before he gets the helmet off."

Cally found a sizeable length of metal tubing, dragged Travis' cybernetic hand onto a flat surface, and smashed the hand. This time I know exactly what it feels like, Travis, and I am pleased to know it.

Tyce checked him over for weapons and then dumped him on the floor, tossing the helmet aside. He twitched as if he were having a seizure.

Cally grabbed a harness welder and stood over him. "Now, Travis, time for answers."

Travis addressed Tyce instead. "Doesn't make sense," he gasped out. "You couldn't have found your way here."

"Your analysis was wrong," Tyce replied. "You may not know it, but all of this machinery generates an electromagnetic resonance in your handy implants. Once you get used to it, it's simple to pick up the tingle and trace its source."

"Now then, Travis," Cally continued, "we know all about Zayder's plan on Lindor. Everything you know about me is on these active computers, so we can take it all back with us and have our implants removed. There doesn't seem to me to be much reason to let you live."

Travis had begun to regain control of his muscles. He managed a smile. "On the contrary, I have the truth about Sart's life as well, and that isn't on active machines. All in the vaults, and without the codes you'll never get it."

Cally didn't need to turn to look at Tyce before she said, "Sart died a long time ago. I saw her body float into the mausoleum. The empty shell Zayder rebuilt wasn't her. I don't need to know what a robot does with her spare time."

Cally smiled. "It looks like you don't have much of a leg to stand on."

"Oh, we are only beginning. What about Gan?"

"No information about Gan's limiter can help him. We know that as well as you do."

Travis smiled and spoke slowly.

"What about his brain print?"

Cally cursed herself for letting Travis see her jarred by that one. "What brain print?"

"A brain print was taken when he was first arrested. The real Gan, before the conditioning, before the limiter. What he was really like. I know Gan has a cybersurgeon, or else his limiter would have failed by now; he'll be able to confirm its authenticity. Zayder handled Gan's case from the beginning. I've wondered if she deliberately botched his conditioning so she would have another test subject for the limiter. All her data on Gan is in the security vaults as well. Including the brain print."

Cally considered. "Give it to us and we'll let you live."

"You seem to think I have no bargaining power. I have no further need for Tyce. She can go with the brain print. You stay here as my prisoner."

"Bargaining power?" Cally thumbed the switch on the welder and applied the glowing tip to the mangled remains of Travis' hand. She could smell the metalloy burning and melting.

Pain showed in Travis' face, but nowhere near enough. "I've trained all my life to withstand torture, Cally. You won't break me."

"Tyce, get me a projectile rifle. You already know what an arm and an eye are like, Travis. Shall we begin somewhere else? I hope your machinery is automated; I understand a shattered pelvis is quite painful. Perhaps I'll blow off your foot first. Or should I start with the thigh and take off the whole leg at one go?" Her voice became harsher as Tyce handed her the weapon. "Or shall I start with the genitalia, just for old times' sake?"

"You may as well kill me now, Cally. Neither threats nor pain will get you anywhere with me. I'll die happily knowing I've taken Gan's last chance down with me."

Cally pressed the mouth of the rifle into Travis' human temple.

"This is your last chance, Travis."

"Then so be it."

//So you wanted me inside your head? I told you before, Travis, that that would be the last thing you ever felt.//

Cally squeezed the trigger. The blast echoed for a few seconds, but it seemed hours to Cally. Tyce saw her drop the gun and grabbed her before she collapsed. She lifted Cally onto the table. She was breathing, but her eyes were frozen and she didn't respond, Tyce was slapping her by the time she regained consciousness.

"Cally, what did you do?"

"I told him my presence in his mind would be the last thing he ever felt."

Tyce shuddered. "How long did you...stay?"

"Until it was all over. It appears he made far more progress than he knew. Even without the machinery, I could feel everything he could. And I stayed until he was dead."

Cally unbelted herself and rose from the pilot's seat. She could have done it much earlier; the autopilot could handle the trip. The alarms would sound if anything eventful happened, but that was unlikely on a flight straight to Lindor.

Not back to Auron. Her temporary reprieve was over. At least she had the opportunity to say goodbye to Zelda properly. Even if it was less than two days after saying hello.

She took a few deep breaths and headed to the other pressurised cabin. Tyce was seated, relaxing in an informal but precise position, the sort that requires training from an etiquette expert in posture. She looked up at Cally with a smile and a greeting. Cally took another seat around the storage module, which Tyce had evidently decided to stare at some more. It was open, with the vibration suppression panels retracted, so that all the contents could be viewed.

The datacubes held no special interest just now -- they had catalogued the contents when they downloaded everything from the base computers, and except for a few items which they had each wanted to look at immediately, it was mostly technical information for Docholli and the computers to sift through.

However, the secure storage vaults hung heavily on their minds. There were six of them, enough to hold far more than the two items Travis had claimed were in them.

"Do you think Travis was telling the truth about what was in them?" asked Tyce.

"I believe he was. I'm startled myself, but I think he was being honest with me."

"Too bad we'll never get them open," Tyce replied.

"Well, we certainly won't. But Gan has lots of connections through the underground railroad. If there's someone who might be able to get them open without detonating them, we'll have a shot at it."

Tyce was silent for a long time, until Cally spoke again.

"Do you want to know about Sart?"

Tyce looked at her, as if surprised at the question. "No, of course not. Whatever Zayder's automaton has done since Sart died is of no interest. It has nothing to do with Sart. I was at the funeral. I saw her soul stripped from its husk. What Zayder did with the body afterward may be valuable to cybersurgeons, but not to me."

"Not even the artwork? Some part of Sart was still in there."

"No. Cybernetic devices triggering what was left of her nervous system may have drawn her prior talents and memories out, but it still wasn't her."

"Then...forgive me for asking, but you know the dreams I had about Zelda. Was it difficult for you to kill her?"

Tyce hesitated before answering. "I thought it would be when I first saw her. But she was unresponsive, on standby for more orders. She made no move against me, friendly or hostile. She couldn't speak, and she didn't respond to anything I said; clearly she could only understand voices very similar to Travis' or Zayder's. Then Travis' voice came over the intercom, and she went to the door. That's when I shot her and took her place. It wasn't difficult. It wasn't Sart. And if the real Sart were still alive, that's what she would have wanted me to do."

"Yes, I understand now. Thank you."

Gan found himself repeatedly running his eyes around the conference room on Lindor in which Cally and Tyce gave their debriefing. It wasn't actually very different from the one they had used frequently on the ship while en route to Auron, except for its size, but he needed more distance from the subject matter. But the extra space made no difference; only four people were present, since President Sarkoff was unable to attend, and had deputised Tyce to fill him in afterwards. And no amount of physical separation could change the fact that when the debriefing was done, the problems and the choices were all his.

Cally and Tyce finished their report, and the tension in the room increased as the others waited for him to speak. He finally leaned forward, his arms on the table, fingers intertwined, and focused his attention on the data vault. His gaze remained fixed there as he spoke.

"Well, these are supposed to be unbeatable, but I've heard that some people have managed to get into them without blowing either themselves or the contents to fragments. My contacts are seeing who they can find to give us the best chances."

No verbal response from any of the others. Gan leaned back again and laced his fingers behind his head. "There was a thief I knew on the London who had a natural talent for getting into things. Very good at thinking through the whole problem, looking at the systems through the designer's eyes."

Cally spoke up. "Do you mean Vila? He was still with the Liberator when I was captured on Centero, but that was a long time ago. Does anyone know where he is now?"

"The last I heard he was still there," said Gan, "but that's still a long time. He is one of the people we're trying to track down."

Then the room fell silent again. This time Docholli broke the silence.

"I've completed my review of Zayder's notes, at least the ones that aren't in data vaults. It should be possible to recondition you using the brain print, even with the limiter in place."

Gan had planned to keep his thoughts on that matter to himself, but found himself speaking loudly, more vehemently than he had expected.

"And where will that get me? I'll still be stuck with the limiter, and lose most of my memories of the past six years. I've worked hard to learn self-awareness, self-discipline, so that I might be able to keep control without the limiter -- I'll have to start that anew. And I'll have fresh, days-old memories of losing Venda, but with the limiter and no practised means of focusing, no way to work through those emotions."

"I understand," Cally said, "but you do want to know the truth, don't you?"

"Do I?" Gan's voice was quieter now. "Would it really bring me any comfort to know that I really was a peaceful man all along? I would still be in the same position. At least I'm proud of what I am now, whether my former self was better or worse. Or I might find that I really was a homicidal psychopath -- will I then feel proud that my punishment had its desired effect of curing me?"

He stood, suddenly. "I apologise for that outburst. All I can say is that I have a lot of thinking to do. Fortunately, there's no particular rush to make a decision when we can't open the vaults. Hopefully, I'll have decided what to do by then."

Cally touched the door chime. The door slid open as Gan's voice answered, "Enter."

Gan watched her enter and walk towards him as the door slid shut. He studied her face.

He slowly shook his head. "Cally, we've been through this before. I have no choice. The answer is no."

Cally crossed her arms and cocked her head slightly to the right. "And for all the wrong reasons. Stop pretending that this is a favour I'm doing for you. It's something I want. Something I need. And I'm willing to take risks for it."

"Too much risk. I could have killed you."

"I've risked my life before."

"Dangerous as it was, you had good reason to walk into Travis' trap. He was a threat to you and to others."

"And I don't have reasons for wanting to have sex with you, Gan? Gan, I am as alone as you are. The temporary suspension of my exile from Auron is over. My people are removed from me. My friends from Saurian Major are all dead. The Liberator crew are beyond my reach, and we barely had time to become acquainted before Travis captured me. And that was while I was projecting my nightmares. I was as much a threat to them as I was an ally, if not more so. They cannot have thought very well of me."

"In spite of the ruthless pragmatism they preach, they are not as heartless as they may appear, but I will admit they are not easy to locate. And there are other Aurons who live on other planets."

"Very few, Gan, very few. A handful of official representatives, and we know Auron is very isolationist. A few who have left willingly, perhaps, but they may very well want to avoid other Aurons, and it would be extremely difficult to find out who they are and where they have gone. And if they have any thoughts of someday returning to Auron, they will avoid me like a plague. There may be other exiles, but none I was aware of when I was banished, either because I was the first in decades, or because the government keeps such matters very quiet. My movements on Auron were restricted, and I avoided other Aurons, but the fact that everyone I did encounter knew I was officially a non-entity does not mean that the information was widespread. Anyone banished after me might very well be as unaware of my case as I am of theirs. They will also be extremely difficult to identify and locate. Except for official representatives of Auron on other planets, the Auronar government will not want to release any information it may have on the others, even to Leehan, unless he is already aware of them."

Gan stroked his chin for a moment as he turned his eyes downward. But his deliberations were brief. He looked up. "Cally, all I have to offer you is the ability to project thoughts to you. None of your friends on Saurian Major were Aurons, nor were any of the Liberator crew. You are capable of making other human friends and becoming close to them without taking the risks you take with me. And Leehan is a good friend of yours. I realise that a single fellow Auron is not much, but it is more than you have had in years."

Gan fell suddenly quiet. He hadn't intended to suggest Leehan as anything more intimate than a friend. He hoped his words wouldn't be taken as such.

"Leehan is a good friend, yes, but in his official position, contact with me may be difficult. You yourself told me the lengths he had to go to to avoid me, not even being able to join us on the trip to Auron. You knew my condition even before you rescued me. You and he both must have known a long-time Auron friend could have helped, so the prohibition must have been strict. We will no longer be on Auron, so there may be more flexibility, but knowing the Auronar government, I would not be at all surprised if they have already ordered him to avoid any contact."

Cally realised her voice had been growing louder, her tone harsher. She drew in a deep breath and continued more softly. "And I know this was not what you meant in pointing out Leehan's presence on Lindor, but of course the question of sexual intimacy was in both of our thoughts. Leehan is a good friend and a brilliant, kind, and talented man, and at one time I was attracted to him, when I was quite young. He was already ambassador to Lindor several years before my exile, so I have not had any contact with him in many years, and it may be that we will discover an attraction more mature than my youthful ... 'crush,' I believe, is the human term. But I do not think this likely. I see him as my ... 'mentor' does not quite capture the Auron term, which is more akin to the human saying 'he is like a father to me.'"

Gan turned his head away, but Cally cupped his chin and turned him back to face her. "I know what you are thinking, Gan. It would be difficult not to have considered the option, so your embarrassment must mean you have not talked to Tyce, either. I will admit I am attracted to her, but I don't know her feelings. She has not been reluctant to discuss the two of us with me, but she has not raised the matter of her feelings about me. I have learned that humans are more prone than Aurons to speaking openly about sex and emotions but keeping emotions of their own hidden."

Now it was Cally's turn to feel guilty about saying something that might be improper. She deliberated, her eyes cast downward. Gan watched her silently, recognising that she had more to say. Finally, she looked at him.

"Gan, I am not sure whether this is a proper thing for me to reveal, but it is very important to all three of us. One of the reasons I suspect that Tyce's lack of comment on her feelings about me is not just suppression of them, but because she did tell me something equally personal. Tyce is in love with you." Gan's eyes shut tightly as Cally continued. "She has wanted to reach you emotionally for a long time. Aside from her desire to make her friends happy, she is working so hard to help me convince you because I can give you that. She wants desperately for it to happen, even if she can't be the one to do it."

Cally expected this revelation to lead to another silence, but Gan had locked on to one point he felt comfortable presenting immediately. Eyes open, he said, "It is easier to reveal to a friend that you are in love with someone who is not in earshot than it is to tell a potential lover to her face. She could very well be hiding that. She knows about us, and that was the topic under discussion. Humans are reluctant to reveal their own attraction to someone while that person is discussing someone else. She may not even be aware of your feelings about her; I take it you never said anything to her privately. My only recollection of your mentioning anything of the sort was a brief comment you made when we were trying to find out how you could have dreamed things only Tyce knew about. Even that may have seemed to her to be a reaction to the implants and your isolation -- she and I were the only people you trusted, and that too might have resulted from the implants. She has every reason to think a sexual relationship with you is highly unlikely."

He paused for a moment. "Now, I'm certainly not trying to bully you or Tyce into something which may not be what you both want. And I know we are all reluctant to bring up the subject. It may be easier for her to talk about it with me than directly to you, especially if I have your assent to telling her your own feelings about her. However, she knows about us, which could make her reluctant to speak to me, either. Especially if she is in love with me."

Cally smiled suddenly and placed her hands on her hips. "You make quite a diplomat, Gan. You've distracted me and led me away from the subject at hand. Yes, in time I will have other lovers; that isn't the point. Nor is it that I lack the patience to take the time to make other friends. It has gradually become easier for me to trust others, and that will continue. But the subject at hand is the two of us and our feelings for each other, and the things we can provide each other. With your limiter on, even Leehan can't reach you telepathically. With the implants, we've seen that a two-way exchange between us is possible, and with practice I believe we can gain more conscious control over it. With your limiter off I cannot receive your thoughts, but I can send you mine. Only a telepath can do that."

It had not caught Cally's attention that Gan had been sitting ever since she entered the room, not rising to greet her, forcing her to approach him rather than meeting her half-way, neglecting even to offer her a seat. As he stood up now, Cally realised this. Knowing Gan, this was completely uncharacteristic behaviour. Hostile behaviour.

Not that she wasn't already aware of his aversion to discussing this topic.

"Cally, you know very well that even if you can teach yourself to project thoughts to me, the limiter will still make me physically unable to respond. If I turn it off your life is in danger. And the same goes for Tyce and myself. Even moreso -- with my limiter off her implant can't do anything, and with it on I'm impotent, even if you can help us or train us to use the implants when neither of us is telepathic. You know how I feel about accidentally killing Raiker and the trooper who killed Venda, let alone good people who are my friends. And Tyce is not only a friend, but also an important government official. I am obligated by duty to protect her as well."

Cally's jaw tightened, but he cut her off before she could speak. "In any event, this subject will quickly become irrelevant. Once you and Tyce have had your implants removed there is nothing to consider."

Her voice was harsh and she glared at him. The fury in her eyes compensated for the height difference. "When and if we each choose to do so. There is no hurry."

Gan's eyes widened, the taut determination in his jaw transforming to unhinged surprise. "Surely you don't mean to postpone it? They are dangerous, Cally. You should get rid of them immediately."

"Travis and Zayder are dead, their equipment has been destroyed, and we have all of the computer records. The records we've already analysed confirm Travis' story. They took it all with them to Razidan, leaving nothing behind for the Federation to use. The implants are no longer a risk to us."

"Zayder was hardly the Federation's only cybersurgeon. Even if they cannot replicate her work, they could develop another means of using the implants against you. The equipment you destroyed on Razidan may have been one-of-a-kind, but the implants are standard issue. We have no idea who might know they're still in your heads. You must have them removed."

Cally's voice and expression turned meaner. "What Tyce does is her decision. I remain reluctant to having a cybersurgeon mess with my skull, even with your assurances about Docholli. Now let's stop skirting the issue and consider the practicalities. There are things we can do to reduce the risk involved in turning the limiter off."

"We thought we had taken adequate precautions before."

"And clearly we were wrong. We know much more now about how strong you can become if the absence of the limiter triggers a violent response than we did then. Docholli has been studying the damage to your brain caused by the limiter for a long time. We can use that information. We can use stronger chains, eight instead of four. We can use other restraints as well, take every precaution we can think of--"

"--And we still might find them to be insufficient to keep you alive. And even if it works once and we choose to continue, we won't really know that it will be enough the next time. We'll be back in this same discussion. I've been working on controlling myself without the limiter for a long time. Even with undisturbed concentration I can only do it for short periods. It will be years before I have the discipline to even think it might work." He smiled slightly. "You are extremely distracting, you know. Especially when we're having sex."

Cally returned a bit of a smile. "Enough flattery. How about armed guards?"

"My limiter isn't something widely known on Lindor, you realise. Revealing even that to more than the select few who already know is not an easy thing. Docholli, Tyce, President Sarkoff, Leehan, and you are people I can trust, people who know how to keep secrets. Even the best of soldiers swap stories. I'm very reluctant to have strangers watching as we have sex. Not to mention filling them in on our sexual practices so that they know what is reasonable and what is a sign of danger. And even professional soldiers might be distracted by goings-on they are ordered to observe carefully. And they would be armed as well. It would be disastrous if I got hold of a weapon."

"They are professionals, Gan. They know they are risking their lives every day. They will be walking into this fully informed of the danger. Although I imagine that doesn't make a great deal of difference to you, as I'm fully aware of the danger myself, and you won't allow me to choose to take that risk. But that part simply isn't your choice alone. I can't force you to do it against your will, but we both want this at heart. It's just a matter of working through the practical issues and finding answers. If you don't want others to know, Tyce already does. She has shared our joint dreams, so in that sense she has already seen the act. She fought off Travis' minions successfully."

"She's still relatively new to real combat. She has had training, yes, and survived Razidan, but she hasn't your experience, and your fight with me last time was far too close for safety. She is still in danger of getting distracted -- with her implants, she may feel it as well as observing it. And I've already said I have a duty to protect her."

Cally moved closer to him, her eyes still locked on his. "You seem to be treating this as a favour we're doing you. We have our own reasons for wanting to do this, aside from wanting to make you happy. We need to weigh the risks and benefits ourselves."

"Tyce knows what I've been through. We are close friends. We all know that it's possible to misjudge whether something is reasonable when aiding a friend is in the balance. Let alone if she is in love with me. She isn't in a position to be able to make a rational choice. We needn't get into whether she may have conflicting emotions about not being able to do it herself; no matter how highly she values our friendship, no one could avoid feeling at least some resentment and jealousy to each of us in this situation."

Cally considered for the longest stretch of silence yet. "It doesn't seem to me that I can convince you on this. But there's no danger involved if your limiter stays on."

"No danger, yes, but nothing else, either. Remember?"

"Nothing?" She drew even nearer. "It is unfortunate that you will be deprived physically and emotionally, but I won't. Your hands still function, your lips, your tongue. I know your knowledge of lovemaking doesn't begin and end with your erection."

"But without feeling, I can hardly do an adequate job. What would be the point?"

"The point is that it would be you, idiot. You keep forgetting that I feel desire for you. And you will not become deaf and blind, Gan. You can see and hear what you are doing and how I am responding. You've seen enough of my reactions in both dreams and real life to be able to tell what's working and what isn't. And I can show you my emotions telepathically, as well as what to keep doing and what to change, which should make it easier to get right than is possible with a human partner. And from our previous encounter and our shared dreams, I know something of how you respond and what you feel, which I can also communicate telepathically, and we know all of these emotions bypass the limiter. It won't be the real thing, but you will feel some of what they've stolen from you."

Gan remained silent.

"Come on, Gan. You can't say I'd be doing it just for your sake. I'd be the one having the pleasure."

"On the contrary: you will be applying your concentration to provide me with an illusion of what I should be feeling. It will be an effort and a distraction from what would otherwise be a more pleasurable experience for you. Sacrificing your own pleasure to share some with me."

Cally snarled. "Sacrificing! This is what sex is between two Aurons, a sharing of each other's emotions. Is it really so hard to believe that I could feel something besides pity for you? I'm your friend, Gan. Or do you not even believe that? Do you think I've only convinced myself that I'm your friend, when all it really is is gratitude and pity?"

Gan remained silent. Cally snarled again, turned, and left the room.

Tyce shifted her food around on her plate, still not putting any of it into her mouth. She rested her left elbow on the table, supporting her left cheek on her palm.

This is pathetic. Why am I allowing this to get under my skin?

Because I respect him and want his approval.

Because he knows it and uses it to make me uncomfortable disagreeing with him.

Because he's the most stubborn person I've ever met. He even out-stubborns Father.

She dropped her fork onto the plate and put her right elbow on the table, shaking her head between her two palms, allowing long blond hair to partially obscure her face.

Because I'm in love with him.

She looked toward the door as Cally entered. Why do I always know when she enters the room? Do I recognise her silent step? Catch something out of the corner of my eye? Notice her scent?

Does she attract my attention telepathically? Deliberately or subconsciously?

Or is it caused by the implants? Will it end when mine are removed?

Cally placed a hand on the back of the chair around the table corner from Tyce. "May I join you?" Her voice was cheerful, but she wasn't wearing the encouraging smile with which she usually greeted Tyce. Not appropriate for how I look today, I suppose.

Tyce nodded and Cally slipped into the seat. She hadn't yet picked up a tray. She sat, her hands clasped neatly on the table in front of her. "Worse?"

Tyce brushed a strand of hair back in place with a middle fingertip as she raised her head and met Cally's eyes. "Much worse. Declining at an accelerating rate. I had no idea I would react like this. It seemed like a simple thing -- he'd try to get us to have the implants removed, we would refuse, and eventually he would break down and compromise. He thinks the implants are dangerous, but he's still willing to play this waiting game. I've told him the whole truth about how I feel. Didn't make a dent. And days continue to pass, but all he'll do is tell me I should have the implants removed. I ran out of compromise offers and just keep repeating the old ones. Doesn't he see that once the implants are gone the possibilities fade away?"

"Of course he does. And if he just refuses to give in until we decide to remove them, the whole issue disappears. Gan is the most forthright and honest person I know, but that doesn't mean he's too innocent to be manipulative when he thinks it's important. And when he thinks something is in your best interest, he won't pull back. If you disagree and refuse to hear any more arguments, he'll get that sad tone in his voice and that doleful expression on his face that shouts, 'I suppose it's your choice in the end, but I'm terribly hurt and disappointed in you.'"

Tyce smiled as she tossed her hair back. "That's exactly it, Cally. My upbringing wasn't like yours. Sart and I rarely argued with our elders, and Father wasn't generally strict with us. As long as we behaved properly in front of government officials and visitors, we were allowed to do what we liked on our own time, and Father gave us whatever we asked for. I never had to seriously challenge Father until he went into exile, and I never succeeded in convincing him to return to Lindor. Gan has all of Father's tricks and then some. He talked Father into coming home. He's not that much older than I am, but he knows how to give off the signals that say 'authority figure' to me, and I'm not used to arguing with authority figures. He just knows my weaknesses and how to use them against me."

Cally breathed deeply and slowly. "Tyce, I know. I've been fighting authority all my life, but I'm not completely immune to Gan's tactics. However, I've met people who are more stubborn, and so has Gan. He was on the London with them longer than I was on Liberator. And I'm awfully stubborn, myself."

She took another deep breath. "Tyce, I appreciate the way you've stuck with me on this, but you don't have to. I am still wary of cybersurgery; what was done to me is still too recent. But it isn't recent for you, and you trust Docholli. And, sorry as I am to say it, you can't provide him with as much as I can. What can be done with the implants is limited if you are not telepathic as well. And he is more protective of you than he is of me. It isn't that he loves me more than he does you; under the circumstances, he prefers the reverse. Even if he gives in, it will only be temporarily, and he doesn't want the inevitable ending to be any more painful than it has to be. I can hold out. You don't have to."

Tyce's head dropped into her supporting hands. "I wish you hadn't said that." She raised her head and folded her arms on the table. "I decided early this morning to have them removed. I suppose I was hoping you would urge me not to, give me a reason I hadn't thought of. But it doesn't make sense for both of us to delay removing the implants, and there are far better reasons for you to hold out than there are for me. He'll see that my giving in doesn't mean you're weakening, and he'll know I won't be 'listening in' to anything that happens between the two of you."

Cally nodded, closing her eyes briefly. "You are right. This is the correct thing for you to do."

"I wish I could be surer. I'm certain you're making the right decision."