The Vulpirans' Honor: The Soul-Linked Saga (20 page)

“I still need to discuss it with Michael,” Honey replied.  “But I honestly can’t imagine
myself refusing.  I want it too much.”

“You don’t want to return to Terien?”

“No, I don’t,” Honey replied.  “I never did, actually.  But whether or not I have
to depends a lot on Michael.”

Hope hesitated.  What she wanted to say, and what she should say to this woman that
she barely knew, were too far apart to allow her tongue free rein.

Honey sipped her coffee, pretending not to notice Hope’s struggle.  She thought about
the people she’d met here, on Jasan, both the women and the men.  They were nothing
like anyone she had ever known, except her mother. 

Teriens were withdrawn, secretive, judgmental and very critical of anyone or anything
that dared violate their strict ideas of right and wrong.  The Jasani were polar opposites
of that.  They were friendly, accepting, and open minded.  And, she thought, trustworthy. 

There’d been an idea rattling around in her mind for a couple of days now.  She was
fairly sure she was right, but she wanted to ask someone else, someone she could trust. 
Without letting herself reconsider, she set her cup down and looked straight at Hope.

“I’m the Vulpirans’ Arima, aren’t I?” she asked, proud of how steady her voice was
when she spoke.

Hope’s turquoise eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t turn away or hesitate. 
“Yes, you are,” she replied. 

“Does everyone know?” Honey asked.

“I think the people you’ve met here, on the ranch, all know now,” Hope said.  “But
you should know that it wasn’t the Vulpirans who told.”

“When I healed Saige’s babies something happened that made it obvious to everyone. 
Is that a good guess?”

“Yes, that’s an excellent guess,” Hope replied.  “Honey, no one is going to judge
you, or pry into your personal business.  We’re happy to have you, and Nica, and Michael
too.  I understand he’s doing a lot to help further our understanding of the Xanti,
and that’s extremely important to all of us.”

“I appreciate that,” Honey said.  “Sometimes, though, the truth is not what you see. 
Unfortunately, the secrets I would now trust you with are not entirely mine to tell.”

Hope thought about that for a moment as she watched Nica teach Harlan how to throw
his little red ball.  “I’m here for you any time you want to talk, Honey,” she said
finally.  “And I’ll be your friend, even if you decide to keep your secrets to yourself. 
I just want you to know that.”

“Same goes for me, too,” Berta said from behind them.  Honey turned to see her Aunt
step out of the house and onto the patio. 

“Good morning, Aunt Berta,” Honey said.  “I didn’t expect to see you this morning.”

“Well, I know you’re going to be working down at the infirmary today, so I thought
I’d pop over this morning early so I could see you.”  Berta took a seat next to Honey
and accepted a cup of coffee from Hope.

“Is there anything wrong?” Honey asked.

“No, nothing at all,” Berta said.  “I just thought you’d be worrying about how to
manage Nica and the infirmary, since I know Michael isn’t here.”

“I told her Nica is more than welcome to stay here while she’s at the infirmary,”
Hope said.  “Considering that you’ll be there healing unborn children, it’s the least
I can do.”

“Nica is also welcome to come spend time with me at Arima House,” Berta said.  “The
ladies there love her, as do I.  So there’s no problem there.”

“Thank you, both of you,” Honey said.  “I can’t make my final decision about staying
here until I talk to Michael, but I wonder, is there a school around here?  It’s past
time for Nica to start going to school, but with the move to Earth, and then the trip
here, I haven’t had a chance to get her enrolled.  If we stay here, she needs to start
school.”

“The closest school is in Granite Falls,” Hope said.  “That’s a couple of hours away
by ground-car.  Saige, Lariah and I have talked about the need for a school on the
ranch.  Between the three of us, we have twelve children and six more on the way. 
But they’re all much younger than Nica.  The Dracon girls are three, and they’re the
oldest.”

“I suppose I’ll have to home school her, which is fine,” Honey said.  “The real issue
with that is she needs to be with other children her own age.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Hope said.  “You don’t have to solve everything this morning.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Honey said.  She checked her watch and set her cup down.  “I’d
better get going.  I told Doc I’d be there by nine.  If you don’t mind, Hope, I’d
like to check on your daughters before I go.”

“No, I’d appreciate that,” Hope replied.  “Do you need me to lie down?”

“No, that’s only necessary when I want to take a very close look,” Honey said.  “Just
relax for a few moments, and don’t talk.”  Hope nodded and Honey closed her eyes and
focused.  She smiled as she sensed the three tiny little girls in Hope’s womb, content,
warm and safe.  She started to withdraw when she sensed a tiny, faint buzzing.  She
frowned and focused on Hope again, and the buzzing faded.  As she withdrew, she sensed
it again.  She followed the almost invisible sensation for a few moments, then opened
her eyes and smiled.

“Hope, your daughters are perfect,” she said.  Then she looked at her aunt.  “Aunt
Berta, your daughters are perfect, too.”

Berta dropped her cup into her lap which, luckily, had only a little bit of cool coffee
left in it.  Her face paled, then flushed pink.  “Are you certain?” she asked Honey
in a trembling voice.  “Really certain?”

“I’m certain, Aunt Berta,” Honey said.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m better than all right,” Berta said, grinning widely.  “But you’re sure, Honey? 
There’s no mistake?”

“No, Aunt Berta, there’s no mistake,” Honey said.  “I promise.”

“Make that nine on the way,” Hope said with a laugh.  “Six more girls between us,
Berta.  I almost wish I could see the expressions on the Falcorans’ faces when you
tell them.”

“Yes, I was just thinking the same thing,” she said as she set her cup on the table
and stood up.  “I think I’ll go find out if they look anything at all like I expect.”

Honey and Hope laughed as Berta left with an extra bounce in her step.  Then Honey
went to give Nica a kiss good-bye and, feeling just a little nervous, got into her
ground-car and headed for the infirmary.

***

Michael opened his eyes and looked around, confused at first by the unfamiliar surroundings. 

“Feeling any better?” Vikter asked.

Michael turned his head and saw Vikter standing in the aisle, looking down at him
with mild concern.

“I’m not sure,” Michael said as he reached down the side of his seat and hit the lever
to raise it to a sitting position.  “What happened?”

“Shortly after we lifted off you claimed to have a severe headache,” Vikter said. 
“It was bad enough that you had a bloody nose.  Then you passed out and you’ve been
sleeping ever since.  We have only a very small amount of Water Magic, so there wasn’t
much we could do.  We tried to lessen the pain in your head, and help you to sleep.”

“Water Magic?” Michael asked.  “What’s that?” 

“Water Magic is healing magic,” Lance said.  “Not our strongest, unfortunately.”

“What other kinds of magic are there?”

“Air, Fire, Earth, Water,” Hunt said.  “All Jasani male-sets have some strength in
all of them, though they are strong in only one.  Our strength is Earth.”

“Interesting,” Michael said.  “Well, whatever you did, I thank you for it.  On my
way to Berria the other day I got a headache so bad I thought my brain was going to
explode, and it took a full day to recover.  Whatever you did, it doesn’t hurt at
all now.”

“Do you usually get headaches when you fly?” Vikter asked.

“No, never have before,” Michael replied, reaching out to accept a bottle of cold
water from Lance.  “Thank you,” he said, before twisting the top off and taking a
long drink.  When the bottle was empty he stood up and stretched.

“How much longer before we reach the ranch?” he asked.

“Not long,” Vikter said.  “An hour maybe.”

“If you like, I can tell you some of my impressions from the Xanti,” he said.  “I
recorded everything at the Research Center, just in case.”

“We’d like to hear, very much,” Vikter said.  “We’d also like to know what you learned
from the bio-suit.”

Michael frowned.  “I’m not really sure about that just yet,” he said.  “I have all
of my notes here, of course.  And I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“What is it that you aren’t sure of?” Vikter asked.

“That’s the thing,” Michael said.  “I don’t know.  There’s something there, something
I’m so close to seeing, but can’t quite.  I got the same feeling from the bio-suit
in Berria.”

“I know that feeling,” Lance said.  “It’s annoying as hell.”

“What do you do about it?” Michael asked.  “I’ve never had it before, and it’s about
to drive me around the bend with frustration.”

“Unfortunately, the best thing you can do is leave it alone,” Lance replied.  “Your
subconscious mind is working on something, and your conscious mind can’t stop it,
or even help it along.  You gotta let it be and go on to something else.  When it’s
ready for your input, it’ll let you know.”

Michael sighed again as he reached for his hand terminal and turned it on.  “All right,
I’ll leave it alone.  Or try to anyway.  So, my impressions of the Xanti.”

Vikter, Lance and Hunt sat near Michael, listening intently.  They’d been wanting
to hear this for days now, but hadn’t had time to listen to the recordings before
leaving for Berria.  They were thrilled that they’d get to hear at least some of it
before they reached the ranch.

“First,” Michael began, “I feel I must remind you that I cannot read thoughts.  I
know nothing of what the Xanti was thinking while I was connected to it, or what their
plans are, or where their ships are, things of that nature.”

“We understand,” Vikter assured him.  “We will not expect more than what you give
us.”

“The Xanti is, much to my surprise, a hive creature,” Michael began.  “I did some 
research on arachnids yesterday morning and could not find a single known species
in all of the Thousand Worlds that lives in hives.  The Xanti are, apparently, unique
in this respect.”

“We are not very familiar with hive creatures,” Vikter said.  “We’ll have to correct
that lack.  However, something tells me that is a very important bit of information.”

“Yes, absolutely,” Michael said.  “For one thing, they are matriarchal.  That explains
the rudimentary reproductive organs.  My guess is that each hive consists of one queen
and a whole bunch of drones, or sterile males.  Some are probably warriors, others
gatherers, builders, that sort of thing.  I’ve no idea what their structure is.  I’m
just going on what little I know about hive societies in general.”

“We understand,” Lance said.  “What else?”

“They are not just paranoid,” Michael said.  “They are clinically, psychotically paranoid. 
It’s so deeply ingrained in them that it’s a part of their racial makeup.  Their attempt
to destroy or enslave all beings is not so much a decision on their part, but a racial
imperative.  They have no real choice.”

“Which means there can never be any peace with the Xanti,” Vikter said.

“No, never,” Michael said.  “They are, in every way, incapable of co-existing with
any species that they have not subjugated.  Which tells me that they have slaves,
and a lot of them.”

“I’m sorry, I missed something there,” Vikter said.  “How did you come to that conclusion?”

“I’m sorry, I jumped ahead,” Michael said.  “The Xanti does not have a creative mind. 
They do not possess the ability to invent anything new.  They are intelligent in a
devious, predatory way.  They can and do adapt.  They have no problem learning to
use technological devices, but they do not create them, and they do not build them. 
They have neither the right type of brain, nor the physical dexterity and strength
to build factories or ships.  Therefore it follows that their technology is not their
own.  As they cannot coexist with another species, they must have enslaved them.”

Michael paused for a moment and scrolled through his notes.  “The single most important
thing to know about the Xanti is that their primary motivation for all that they do
is fear.  It is what fuels every action, determines every deed, colors every decision. 
It’s the foundation for who and what they are.”

“That’s perhaps the most frightening thing I’ve ever heard,” Hunt said in a low voice. 
“There can be no compromise with such a being.  No treaty, no peace.  No splinter
group of rebels willing to come over to the other side.”

“No, you will never find a renegade Xanti,” Michael agreed.

***

Honey parked the ground-car behind the infirmary in the spot Doc had told her to use,
feeling just a little nervous.  She wasn’t concerned about her nerves, though.  She
knew from experience that the moment she saw her first patient, the nerves would vanish.