Part 13 (1/2)
”Let's give it another try, then. But it isn't easy turning off something you never knew was on.”
”True.” Corina was surprised to find his touch on her blade didn't bring discomfort. That was highly unusual, but she was becoming accustomed to unusual things around this human. ”Again, try to relax.
I will continue to check your progress.”
”Right.” For the second time, Medart closed his eyes and began the deep-breathing routine. In and hold . . . body relaxed . . . out and hold . . . cat-clean scent . . . in and hold . . . cat-and-mouse . . .
oh, h.e.l.l!
”What is it, Ranger?” There had been a flash, an instant of touch too fast for her to grasp and expand, then nothing.
”This isn't going to work, and I think I know what the problem is.
Every time I try to relax, I see those four Marines stunned on the deck and the other one with your knife at his throat.”
”So your undermind considers me dangerous, is trying to protect you from that. Yes, that is reasonable.” Corina thought for a moment. ”I seemed to get the impression of memory-smell, though I cannot be sure.
And perhaps of a small feline. When MacLeod discovered Irschcha, he thought of us at first as 'overgrown p.u.s.s.ycats', and other humans seemed to agree. Perhaps if you thought of me as some sort of domestic pet?”
Medart considered that idea, then chuckled. ”I used to raise Siamese cats, and you Irschchans do remind me of them. It's worth a try.”
Kimi and Saren, his first pair. Not Saren, who'd been on the blocky side for a Siamese; young Losinj was more like Kimi, slender and incredibly graceful. She'd climb up on his lap, b.u.t.t his chin with her head to demand that he scratch behind her ears . . .
Corina, observing carefully, felt his s.h.i.+eld start to weaken. That continued until she was able to catch a mental picture of herself, with parts of her fur more deeply colored, curled up on the Ranger's lap and purring with contentment while he gently scratched behind her ears.
She echoed his amus.e.m.e.nt silently, then began examining his mind pattern. She was careful not to let him realize what she was doing, though she was reasonably sure he could not feel her check. That was both quick and thorough, his mental ”atmosphere” far less murky than the other humans she had touched--and his patterns were clear as well, easy to read and work with. His Talent was unmistakable--his potential Talent, she corrected herself; he might not be able to learn its use.
She could at least try activating his latent telepathic ability. That might be somewhat delicate, given his humanity, but with such clear patterns, it should not be particularly difficult. She knew the theory, and Thark had done the same for her; it was merely a matter of redirecting the mental impulses of communication from the speech center to the TP center, something she ought to be able to do without him even realizing the change was being made.
*That is a little better,* she thought at him while pretending to speak aloud. *Perhaps if we combine what you are doing now with a discussion of something else for awhile, it will be more effective.*
”Yeah, maybe.” Excellent, Corina thought. He could definitely receive, then--a very good sign. ”What do you want to talk about?”
*It does not really matter. Something you like, a memory you find relaxing or humorous.* She felt her ears twitch nervously, hoped he did not notice. The redirection she was attempting was indeed simple, but delicate with the human-different patterns however clear they were, and she needed no extra complications.
”There aren't too many of those in a Ranger's life,” Medart said slowly. It was rather like listening to a simultaneous echo, Corina thought as she very cautiously nudged the flow of impulses. ”It's a d.a.m.n good life, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't have many laughs, and the most satisfying parts are usually the result of a lot of work, and sometimes pain.” He chuckled, ruefully. ”Exactly what I shouldn't be telling someone I'm trying to get to join us, I guess--but if you pay attention to Imperial news, you picked up on that for yourself. As someone said a lot of years ago, Rangers and active Life n.o.bles tend to get into 'dangerously interesting situations'.”
It seemed like a good enough subject, as well as having a strong bearing on the offer he had just made her, so Corina pursued it.
*True. I find it difficult to believe, however, that individuals of such value are permitted to place their lives at serious risk so frequently.*
Medart chuckled. ”We're perfectly aware of our value, believe me, and we're just as fond of life as anyone else--maybe more so, since we're at risk so often. But there're some things worth the risk--a feeling you share, or you wouldn't be here.”
*Also true,* Corina conceded. *The Empire has given my people much; saving it for them, and others, is something I think well worth the risk I took. But I am a private individual; no one may forbid me to take whatever risks I judge necessary.*
Medart grew thoughtful, making it easier for Corina to establish the mental pathway she was working at. He was still speaking aloud, though. ”We aren't, but that evaluation is still up to us; if we think the situation's worth risking a Ranger, or if it needs our abilities, we go in ourselves. If not, we send in someone else--and that's a h.e.l.l of a lot harder, I'll tell you right now.”
*Thinking of one's own life objectively is difficult,* Corina agreed.
*I believe I would find it difficult to think of my life as having more value than another person's.*
*Or a group's,* Medart said, speech now echoing telepathy. *You learn eventually, but it is hard, especially at first. We've all made at least one bad call, usually going in when we should've sent someone.
That hasn't been fatal so far, and doesn't even always mean getting hurt--but Steve Tarlac's first solo mission came within an hour or so of being his last.*