Zeth began to zlin his mother. She could hardly breathe. The burns on her legs were painful, but the dark anomaly of failing cells was in her lungs. Marji was projecting need, encouraging Kadi's cells to produce selyna"to live and work and sustain hera"but his mother's field resisted full cooperation with the young channel's. As Zeth pored over what he zlinned, the fields became abstract designs, fascinating in their complexity. He allowed his own field to impinge on the linked fields before him. Kadi's field respondeda"and then she became aware of her pain, crying out, "Rimon!"

"No, Mama, it's mea"Zeth."

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were normally deep blue, but now pain had drained the color from them until they seemed almost gray. Her hair was dull with smoke and soota"she was faded, not the flaming-haired angel he remembered. Then she smiled, and was his mother again.

"Zeth. My baby. They told mea""

"Don't try to talk, Mama. Yes, I'm all right, and I'm a channel, like Dad."

"You feel like your father," she murmured. Zeth didn't know what to make of that, but didn't ask because he could see how it hurt her to talk. "... so proud of you," she whispered, and then could not stay awake any longer.

"She must be getting stronger," said Marji. "She could hardly talk to Rimon." Zeth let himself become duoconscious again, but could comprehend nothing more from Kadi's field. As he turned to go, he pa.s.sed Lon Carson, who was projecting a savage pride as he watched Marji. His nager didn't interfere with her work. Probably Rimon had decided making Lon go would create a greater disturbance.

Owen held the hangings aside. "Zeth, can you hear me?"

"Sure."

"Well, listen! Stay with me and let me shield youa"you can't go drifting off in a hospital!"

"All right, Owen," said Zeth with absolute intent as he followed along in Owen's wake . . . until the flow-pattern of the ambient nager became an irresistible lure. He turned around, caught in the intensity of ebbing and flowing energy.

This time Owen shook him impatiently. "Come on, Zeth, the channels will throw us out of here!" He led Zeth on to where, heavily shielded with many layers of drapery, the channels were treating the critically wounded patients. Zeth jolted back to hypoconsciousness when he zlinned that the body being carried out by Dan Whelan and Del Erick was dead. The bodies out in the field had not bothered hima"but this one meant the channels had failed to save someone. Bron?

No, Maddok Bron had been laid on a table, still unconscious. Duoconscious again, Zeth perceived the fighting strength that denied Bron's state of depletion.

Two Mountain Chapel Gens with guns had accompanied the party into the chapel. Their fields thrummed with suspicion as Rimon bent over the still form of their leader. "You gotta take the bullet out," one of the Gens insisted.

Zeth's surprise and revulsion were reflected in his father's field, and Rimon fought irritation, fatigue, and pain before he answered calmly, "Then he would surely die. Prying about inside the wound would start the bleeding again, just when I've managed to stop it."

"Whad'ya mean, you stopped it? You didn't do nothin'. We watched you the whole time."

Again Rimon gathered patience before replying, "I'm sure you're aware that Simes can sense a Gen's life force. Those of us who are channels can sense such things as the bullet inside Mr. Brona"and just as a Gen's field affects a Sime, a channel's field can affect a Gen. I'm afraid I can't explain further in terms you can understand." He paused. "How did this man get shot? There were no Simes with guns."

One of the men explained, "When most of the ranchers went down, we were ready to retreat. Mr. Bron wouldn't let us. He rode through the ranks to lead usa"I think he must have gotten in the way of someone's shot. I don't think he knew he was hurt till the battle was over."

Rimon nodded. "A brave man. Now will you allow mea"?"

Maddok Bron suddenly surfaced to semi-consciousness, flaring pain. Both Rimon and Zeth turned at once, and the Gens raised their guns by reflex. Owen moved to shield Zeth, who suddenly realized Rimon was working without a Gen. "Go help Dad," he urged.

Rimon motioned Owen back, saying, "Noa"he's so weak I shouldn't have any field interfering. I worked alone when I healed you, Owen. Stay with Zetha"he has no experience."

Bron was lying on his side. Rimon carefully placed his hands over his back and abdomen, the wound between them. One of the Gens gasped, "What are you doing?"

"If he moves, he could start bleeding again," Rimon replied. "He could go into shock. How can I make you understand that the best thing is to leave him here?"

Astonishingly, Bron fought his way up to full awareness. His eyes opened. "Don't move!" Rimon said sharply.

Bron's dizziness and nausea came sharply to Zeth, even through Owen's field. How did his father stand it? Fear, pain, anxiousnessa""Who are you?" Bron whispered. Rimon, still bearing the effects of the fire, looked like an apparition straight from the h.e.l.l preached about in the Church of the Purity.

"You're in Foil Freedom," Zeth said quickly. "My father is treating your wound."

Confused, Bron struggled to peer at Zeth. It was several moments before he whispered his name.

"That's right," Zeth said, trying to project encouragement. "You're safe. Because you came to help, the Raiders are gone."

Bron had no strength, and was both chilled and sweating. Shock. They could lose him right now. Bron knew it. "I'm dying," he murmured. "Tell my sistera""

The two men with guns immediately started toward him. "No!" said Rimon. "Mr. Bron, you won't die if you can tell these men to stop interfering with your treatment."

Bron was shivering steadily now. Owen tried, "Please, Mr. Bron. Rimon can't work with Gen fields interfering. I know you can't understand, buta""

"Not understanding," Bron whispered with a beatific smile. "Faith. You said it, Owen. I asked for a sign." He drew a long, shuddering breath. "Go, Cord, Vern. I don't need your protection herea"I have G.o.d's." He managed to remain conscious until the two men left the room. The instant relief in the ambient made Zeth's senses reel.

Forcing himself back to duoconsciousness, he heard his father saying, ". . . blankets and a warming pan. Wik should be out there somewhere. Send him."

Owen said, "I'll be right back, Zeth. Rimon, should I take hima"?"

"Noa"just hurry back." When Owen had gone, Rimon said, "Zeth, I can't take Hank and Uel or Jord and Anni away from the wounded Simes. Marjia""

"I know. I saw Mama. She talked to me."

Rimon breathed a sigh of relief. "She's getting stronger, then. I hate to leave her with Marji, but she can hold Kadi's field and she can't do what I'm doing. When Owen gets back, we'll see if you two can help me."

Owen returned with blankets. "They're warming bricks on the chapel stove to warm the beds. I sent Wika"Rimon, the way that kid has changed while I've been away!"

"You forget he came out of the pens," Rimon agreed. "He'll be a fine Companion when we have time to train hima"but meanwhile we've got to make do with what we have. Owen, support Zetha"if you don't let his attention wander, we can put his condition to good use."

Zeth was about to protest their talking about him as if he weren't there, but then he realized that his father was according Owen the status of Companion, and felt a warm glow of pride for his friend.

"All right, Zeth," said Rimon. "First healing mode. Zlin me, and then try to mesh your field with mine."

Zeth zlinned how his father's field shifted, and found he could shift to match. He felt his father's surprise and pride, followed by a tug which drew him back to duoconsciousness.

"Very good, Zeth. Now, maintaining healing mode, put your field and Owen's, and all the leakage through the drapes, into balance, so it's as if Mr. Bron and I were alone together. Herea"zlin me doing it."

Suddenly Zeth stood in a bubble of clarity centered on his father. Duoconscious, he could hear the steady hushed din from the chapel, but his whole body felt silence.

"Now, you try it," said Rimon, slipping back into healing mode, his attention going wholly to Bron.

Owen moved automatically to where his field balanced the most intense external fields. But when Zeth tried to compensate for the fields flowing through the hangings, the patterns distracted him again. Twice Owen pulled him back, once with a tug of his hand, then with a flick of his field.

Zeth bit back frustration at his inability to concentrate, and flung himself into the task again. The bubble of quietude formed around them all, and Rimon looked around with a smile. Then Zeth was holding the incredibly beautiful and complex pattern of shifting energy fields.

A Gen approached. At first Zeth felt annoyance at the distortion, but he found he could weave the approaching field into the bubble, a bright tang of curiosity almost as ravenous as his own, contriving as naturally as Owen did not to interfere.

Zeth tried duoconsciousness, and found that he could still hold the fields. It was Wik who had entered, to place the towel-wrapped hot brick at Bron's feet. Rimon dared not move, but he smiled at his son and said, "Good work, Zeth."

Zeth envied his father's ability to divide his attentiona"but the instant his mind wandered, the field pattern collapsed. As he groped for it again, both Gens stepped automatically to positions which negated the worst effects. How do they do that? Zeth wondered, but was too busy to think about it further.

He rebuilt the bubble of silence. As soon as he had it again, Wik left. Zeth caught up the pattern, proud of his control. He spared a portion of his attention to watch what his father was doing, lost the pattern, gained it, and again peeked at his father. He couldn't count how many such cycles he went through, but by the time the people outside the curtains were falling asleep, leaving for the night, or settling into vigils, Zeth was able to watch his father and still hold the bubble steady.

Once, he sought to pick his mother's field out, but Owen brought him back to attention. Another time, a Sime poked his head through the hangings, radiating anxietya"and left, disappointed. Some time after that, another Sime approached. This time Zeth recognized Abel Veritt, also rife with anxietya" but as the old man hesitated at the entrance, Rimon's field suddenly flared relief, and Zeth was brought all the way down to hypoconsciousness, seeing his father leaning heavily on the table where Bron lay, looking unutterably tired, but also satisfied.

On that note, Abel entered. "Rimona""

Rimon smiled at him. "He's all right, Abel. He's out of shock and sleeping."

"Yes, I'm very glad, but... Rimon, you musta""

Zeth sought duoconsciousness to ferret out the terrible worry he had sensed in Abel Veritt. His overstrained, unpracticed system rebelled. He started to black out. The two Simes turned, but Owen was at his side, easing him to the floor. He was as exhausted as when fear had drained him in the last stages of changeover.

If Owen hadn't been there to lean on, he would have fallen right off the world. At least that was his impression. Both Abel and Rimon bent over him. Rimon said, "I'm sorry, Zetha"you weren't ready for that. Relax. You'll be all right in a few minutes. Abel, I put him straight to work doing field balances and he held steady until just now!" Rimon's pride warmed Zeth despite the exhaustion.

"Owen," Rimon added, "let Zeth take a transfer grip. Zeth, relax against Owen's field. Let anything happen that happensa"you won't hurt him. You're high-field."

Owen knelt in front of Zeth, who found it nearly impossible to lift his leaden hands to Owen's shoulders. But then his tentacles spread naturally, and he rose to duoconsciousness, at rest once more in the safety of Owen's nager.

They were in that state, Owen's back to the sudden flare of nageric horror, Zeth shielded, Owen unaffected except that his field somehow strengthened for a moment asa" Abel gasped, staggering, turning toward the agonized tumult in the ambient as Rimon emitted a harsh, hideous sound like nothing human and dropped with a lifeless thud. But his body moved, muscles contracting unnaturally, his field a torment of uncontrolled spasms, driving his body into convulsions as Zeth struggled helplessly to focusa"

Abel pulled himself together, dropping to his knees beside Rimon's thrashing body, yanking off his belt to thrust the leather between Rimon's clenched teeth a? footsteps pounded up outside the enclosure and Trina Morgan flung open the hangings, crying, "Rimona"come quickly! I think Kadi's dead!"

Chapter 8.

Zeth woke at dawn. Something new had happened to him while he slept. He knew that the sun was just below the horizon. He knew exactly where he wasa"not just that he was in Abel Veritt's house, but where the house was, in a strange new perspective.

Beside him, Owen slept soundly. He lay still so he wouldn't disturb his friend. He could zlin the whole house without movinga"or right out through the walls. The ambient nager was no longer a mere blur of interesting patterns. He could sort out the fields of Simes and Gens, noting them as individuals, even though he could not yet put names to many of them. The fields no longer ran together in foreshortened layers; he knew exactly where each person was.

He zlinned the room next door. Empty. Across the hall . . , Margid Veritt, asleep. Out in the main room, some Gens slept in exhaustion. One field he knew: Lon Carson. Yes, he remembered vaguely, they had given sleeping room to several uninjured men from Mountain Chapel.

Other memories of yesterdaya"and very early this morninga" suddenly returned. Mama's dead! He sat up in shock, and Owen stirred and muttered in his sleep. Kadi was dead, and Rimon very ill. Abel had seen Rimon go into convulsions like that before; he had known just what to do. Then Uel Whelan had come. The rest was a blur.

Had Rimon survived? Abel would know. He located Abel in the kitchen, his field still and controlled. Zeth slid out of bed, trying not to wake Owen. For the first time in his life, he tiptoed silently through the house without tripping or knocking something over. Not one of the men in the main room stirred as he pa.s.sed.

Abel Veritt was seated at the kitchen table, his chin resting on his folded hands in an att.i.tude of prayer. But the old man's field did not suggest peace. Something dark and tense dominated Abel's nagera"something not there last night.

When Zeth entered the kitchen, the dark nageric cloud retreated, but didn't dissipate as he looked up and answered before Zeth could ask, "Rimon is alive, Zeth. He went through worse than this before you were born, when he was learning . . . not to kill." The darkness flared and retreated at the words. He added, gravely, "It will be very hard for him without your mother. It will be hard for all of usa"but I don't have to tell you that you and your father are like family here. Noa"you are family."

Abel prepared two gla.s.ses of tea. As he put Mrs. Veritt's wooden tea box back on the shelf, he took down the delicate china container, and placed it in the center of the table.

Duoconscious, Zeth studied the container. It had a single white glaze on the inside, but the outside had been glazed with two other colors, and had a tiny delicate tracing of gold. Incredible luxury for Fort Freedom. But what caught Zeth's attention was the way Abel's field was distorted through the various layers of glaze. Zeth moved his hands, his laterals perceiving from various anglesa"a He pulled himself back to duoconsciousness, annoyed at drifting off again, and shook his head. "I can't seem to keep my mind on anything!"

"That's normal," said Abel. "You're rediscovering the world. Thank G.o.d there's no guilt to interfere with your development, Zeth. Ask Uela"I suppose he'll take over your training until Rimon's on his feet again. I'm afraid you'll be put right to work."

"I don't mind. I feel fine this morning."

"You recover quicklya"just like your father."

Margid Veritt came in, tying a crisp white ap.r.o.n around her waist. Zeth recalled that he'd run away from her just before the attack, and babbled an apology.

"You did what you had to do, Zeth. I've lived with Abel long enough to understand that sometimes a man has to follow the inclination G.o.d sends him."

She picked up the china container. Abel reached out and covered her hand with his. "Leave it."

"But it's empty, Abel."

"Use it. Put tea in it, Margid. That's why I got it for you.

All these years you've said the children might break ita"but there are no children in our house any longer."

Margid stared at him, and he added, "For me. Don't you think it's time I got to see you use it?" She nodded silently, poured the tea into the china container, and placed it once more in the middle of the table.

Owen was soon up, Margid busy putting food before him. "You must eat too, Zeth," she fussed contentedly. "You're still growing."

Owen's hunger inspired Zeth's, but after a few mouthfuls he didn't want anymorea"and he still had half a slice of Margid's delicious bread. He reached for the jam. Owen dropped his cereal spoon and grasped Zeth's arm. "Heya"I didn't bring you through changeover so you could poison yourself!"

Strawberry jam. For the first time, Zeth realized there were some things he had lost by becoming Sime. Not just some of his favorite foods, but any real pleasure in eating. There were new pleasures to savor . . . but he wondered if many Simes felt nostalgic for the old.

Lon Carson joined them, asking, "Marji still asleep?"

"Oh, no, Lon," answered Abel. "She slept about two hours, and then went back to work. You were wonderful with hera"I think you did her as much good as her Companion."

"She's my daughter and I deserted her whena""

"You were there last night. The first time a patient died under her carea"" He shook his head. "Having her father there, accepting her, was as important as anything Trina could do.".

The other men from Mountain Chapel did not join them in the kitchen, but accepted the food Margid took in to them. They would leave this morning, along with most of the other uninjured men from Mountain Chapel. Many of the ranchers had been killed or injured, leading the charge against the Raiders. Glian Lodge, though, turned up in the Veritt kitchen, a bit leery of the Simes gathered there. He was seated between Owen and Lon Carson.

When Del Erick, Slina, and Uel Whelan arrived together, carrying extra chairs, Zeth realized that this was a planned meetinga"but no one suggested he and Owen should leave. The conversation was conducted in Englisha"in which, if possible, Slina's grammar was even worse than in Simelan. She wasn't embarra.s.sed; she spoke fluently, if inventively.

Uel's report, from the channels, came first, so he could get back to Rimon's side. Zeth's father, he reported, was stable, but still unconscious. "And that puts me out of commission until I dare leave Rimon for more than a few minutes at a time." His mouth set grimly. "We lost three Gens during the night, and five Simes. At least a dozen more people ought to have a channel in attendance, and we can't spare one! Marji's trying to handle the Gen ward with just Trina and Wik. n.o.body's attending the Simes at all right now, till I get back and relieve Jord with Rimon. He and Anni are working together better than usual, but we all know Jord's pattern."

"I'll come and bring him home as soon as we're finished here," said Abel. "How many people are left to care for?"

"A few are up and about," said Uel. "Mr. Lodge, here, insisted on getting up this morning."

"I'm fine," the rancher said, although Zeth could zlin the throb of his injury.

"Your friend Mr. Norton can be moved out of the infirmary later today, but neither of you is in shape to ride for home yet. Three other Gens won't require channel's supervision anymore, leaving twenty-one in the chapel. The Simes are recovering rapidlya"fifteen left the infirmary this morning. That leaves forty-three patients." He shook his head. "And we're out of fosebine."

Slina put in, "Ain't none at my placea"ain't no place no more. Filthy lorshes burnt it down. Winter settin' ina""