Damia

by

Anne McCaffrey

Of all the Rowan's children,Damia was the most brilliant,the most difficult,the loneliest,and the one who had inherited the greatest Talent.It was obvious from childhood that she was going to be a Prime,with all the honours,burdens and strains of that elite class.Her one friend was Afra-older,wiser,Talented in his own way,but -belonging'almost exclusively to the Rowan and the workings of Callisto Station.

As Damia grew up,her Talent became almost too strong to control, and the solution was seperation-from her parents,from Callisto, from her beloved Afra.Sent to the distant planet of Deneb,to her strange and gifted grandmother,Damia began the training necessary to turn her into a Prime of extraordinary gifts-a Prime who could connect the minds of approaching aliens through space,some of whom threatened to totally destroy the worlds of the Nine Star League.

One of the world's leading science fiction writers, Anne McCaffrey has won the Hugo and Nebula awards for science fiction. Brought up in the U.S. and now living in Ireland, she is the creator and bestselling author of the unique Dragon series.

Damia

Afra felt his sister's mental touch and told his mother that Goswina had returned to Capella. Cheswina regarded her six-year-old son with her ineffable serenity.

'Thank you, afra. You always could hear farther, and Goswina better, than the rest of us. But don't intrude,' his mother added, as afra jiggled about in his eagerness to make contact with his beloved sister. 'Capella Prime will wish to debrief her on her training at Altair Tower.

You may continue with your exercises.' But Goswina's excited about something. Something that has to do with ME! afra insisted, for he wanted to make sure that his mother heard him.

'Now, afra,' and his mother waggled a stern finger at him, 'you've got a tongue AND a voice. Use them. No-one is to accuse this family of bringing up a discourteous and ill-mannered Talent. You have your lessons and you are not to 'path your sister until she comes in that door.' afra scowled because, when Goswina came in the door, he wouldn't need to 'path her.

'You won't ever be chosen for Tower duty if you cannot obey,' Cheswina went on. 'Please assume a cheerful face.' If afra had heard those admonitions once, he had heard them several thousand times. But he stifled his vexation because what he wanted more than anything else in the world was to be in a Prime Tower, part of the vast FT&T network that handled communications and transportation between the star systems that comprised the Federation.

His parents and his older brother and sisters were either part of or working towards being in that great network.

The family were also lucky enough to live in the Tower Complex.

As a baby, he had been lulled to sleep by the throb of the enormous generators with which the Prime Talent made the gestalt to perform her miracles of transportation. His first mental effort at fourteen months had been a cheerful greeting to Capella's Prime who had taken the professional name of her posting. Although she had been addressing the Earth Prime with her 'good morning', afra had heard her voice so clearly in his mind that he had responded. His parents had been shocked by his impudence.

'He was not impudent at all,' Capella had reassured them with one of her rare laughs. 'It was really quite charming to be greeted by a sweet chirping "good morning". Quite sweet. We will encourage such a strong young Talent.

Though it would be as well if you can make him understand that he is not to interrupt me.' Cheswina was a T-8 telepathic sender and her husband, Gas Lyon, a T-7 kinetic. Every one of their children had Talent but afra's was not only apparent early but was also the strongest, possibly even a double - telepath and teleport. This did not keep his parents from being considerably embarrassed by their youngest son's precocity.

So they immediately initiated gentle methods of curbing him without inhibiting his potential Talent.

Either father, mother or Goswina, the eldest sibling, had to be sure to awaken before afra did and curb a repeat of that performance.

For several months, this was a splendid new game for the toddler: to see if he could wake up first so he could chirp 'good morning' to the velvet voice that invaded his mind... Capella. Whoever was minding him that morning had to engage his attention in an alternative occupation - like eating. For young afra loved to eat.

Not that it showed. Like the rest of his family, he was a healthy but lean baby; ectomorphic with the sort of energy levels that burn up calories. Placing a msk or a piece of fruit in his hand would instantly divert him. As most tots, he had a very short attention span and these ploys worked until he was old enough to understand that his 'good mornings' should be limited to his immediate family.

Goswina, a loving and caring sister, had not an ounce of meanness in her temperament and never found this duty a chore. She adored her clever brother and he reciprocated so warmly that a strong tie was established between them.

The mental exercises his Gossie used to divert her lively brother had a salutary effect on her own Talent and she was upgraded to a T-6

by the time she was sixteen. That made her eligible for the special training courses that Earth Prime Reidinger initiated on Altair.

This was a very mixed blessing, for sixteen-year-old Goswina had developed such a deep attachment for a T-5, Vessily Ogdon, that both families had earnestly discussed a possible alliance. However, Goswina was asked to put aside her personal plans for the chance to participate in the Altair course. Only afra knew how painful that choice was for his sister. Once Gas Lyon invoked family honour, she had complied, demonstrating an obedience that seemed genuine - except to her brother who howled loudly at Goswina's departure.

afra missed his slender, gentle sister dreadfully. Altair was so very far away that he could not maintain the light mental touch that reassured him through his daily trials.

afra was not a natural conformist and trouble seemed to seek him out at school, and even at home. He was not as biddable as his brother and sisters had been and his parents found his impetuosity and often 'wild', or 'aggressive' behaviour a trial.

Aware of young afra's problems, the Capella stationmaster, Hasardar, tactfully had the boy doing small 'jobs' for him, jobs which the worried parents could not take exception to as they were aimed at developing his potential.

afra willingly did the 'errands', delighted to be considered - for once - capable of doing something properly.

One of these errands took him to a large freighter with a packet, requested by the captain. afra was agog with the prospect of actually meeting spacemen. He'd seen ships come and go from Capella all his short life but had never actually encountered off-worlders.

As he trotted up to the open hatch, he saw big burly space-tanned men, lounging within. He also heard a babble of sound which made no sense at all to his ears. His mind, however, translated the meaning.

'This is no place for leave, boys. Straight as dies, these folk.

Methody believers, and you know what that means.' 'Sure, Chief, no hanky-panky, no funsies, no drink, no smokings. Hey, what's coming here? A pint-sized greenie!

Don't they grow 'em a decent size?' 'Ah, it's a kid.' And one of the men swung down the ramp, grinning. 'Good morning,' he said in good Basic.

afra stared up at him.

'You got a package for the captain, boy? Stationmaster said he'd have it hand-delivered.' afra continued to stare, extending the package with both hands, puzzled by the strange words and especially by the description of himself.

'What does "pint-sized greenie" mean, please, sir?' afra flinched at the laughter from the lock and then from the angry glare the chief directed at his crewmen.

'Don't be offended, laddie,' the chief said in a kind tone. 'Some spacers have no manners. You understand more than Basic?' afra wasn't sure what response to make. While he knew some people could not 'path, he didn't know that there were many different forms of language in the galaxy.

However, as his family would expect him to give a courteous answer to a friendly question, he gave a nod.

'I understand what you say,' afra replied. 'I don't understand "pint-sized greenie" The chief hunkered down, being conscious that it was wise not to offend locals, even a kid. And a kid would be more likely to repeat what had been said to the stationmaster. It was also smart for freighter crews to be on the best possible terms with Tower stationmasters.

'It's like this, lad,' and he rolled back his sleeve, showing a brown-skinned arm, then he pointed to afra's hand. 'My skin is brown, your skin is green. I'm a brownie,' and he ignored the hoots from his crew, 'and you're a greenie.

Just a matter of what colour we got born with. Now, "pint-sized" means small, and I'd be gallon-sized, 'cause I'm much bigger. Get me?' 'More like barrel, Chief!' one of the crew chortled, again using the different sounds though his mind made the comment clear to afra.

afra cocked his head at the chief, noticing other differences between himself, a Capellan, and these visitors. The man had brown skin, streaky grey hair and brown eyes. He was the widest man afra had ever seen, with forearms twice the size of his father's, or even Stationmaster Hasardar.

'Thank you for explaining to me, Chief. It was kind of you,' afra said, giving a respectful bow.

'No problem, lad. And here's something for your trouble,' the chief said, reaching for afra's right hand and closing the fingers around a metallic object. 'Put that by for a rainy day. If it rains on Capella.' afra looked at the round object, 'pathing from the chief that this was a half credit, a reward for delivering the package. He had never seen credit coins before and he liked the feel of its edges in his palm. He gleaned from the chief that a 'tip' was normal procedure so he bowed again.

'Thank you, Chief. It was kind of you.' II r 'Tell you one thing, they teach manners on this planet,' the chief said in a loud voice, trying to overwhelm the rude comments his crewmen were making about afra's courtesies.

afra didn't catch the meanings behind some of the strange words.

'Off you go, lad, before you become contaminated by this sorry lot of spacers. Ain't any of you guys got some couth? Back inside, the lot of you. You've had your smoking time.' As afra trotted across the plascrete back to the stationmaster, he decided that he wouldn't tell anyone about the coin. It had been given him in return for completing his errand. It was for him, not Stationmaster Hasardar who had said nothing to him about collecting any sort of payment or to expect a tip.

If Goswina had been home, he would have confided in her as a matter of course, but his other sisters considered him a nuisance and his brother, Chostel, felt that he was too old to associate with kids.

So afra decided he didn't need to say anything about his coin. He would save it, but not for a rainy day. When it rained on Capella, no-one went anywhere.

This was yet another occasion when afra found himself deprived by Goswina's absence. And, now that she had returned to Capella, he simply had to renew contact as soon as he could. So, despite his mother's stricture, he reached out his mind to his sister in the main Tower building.

Not now, afra, Capella said but not unkindly as his mind linked to Goswina's in their conference mode.

Oh, mercy, afra, not now, was the simultaneous message from a mortified Goswina.

Fearful that his parents might receive official reprimands from the Prime herself, afra shrank away and coiled so tightly into his own mind that he genuinely didn't 'hear' Goswina until she opened the door of their quarters an hour later.

OH, GOSSeE, afra cried, tears of joy streaming down his face, as he jumped into her arms.

Theirs was not a physically demonstrative family, as much because they enjoyed a sufficient mental rapport that touch was redundant as because tactile contact between Talents allowed deeper readings, sometimes an inadvertent invasion of the private mind.

Today, Goswina ignored such considerations as she hugged her young brother tightly. Through that close contact, she also managed to convey many things such a reserved girl would find difficult to say out loud.

afra caught rapid shifts through scenes of her landing on Altair, the forested mountains behind the Port City, the raw look of the Altairian Tower, the faces of her fellow students in a hectic montage, with one face dominating the group, rapidly scrolling through the school room sessions, meals, the room Goswina had shared with two girls, then pausing at a musical interlude which was abruptly deleted, overlaid with her excitement at returning to the home she had missed, and her Vessily.

I missed you terribly, afra.

More than you missed Vessily?

As much, though not quite the same way, afra, and Goswina's gentle thought teased him. But it was a splendid trip. I met so many marvellous people. And oh, afra, how you'll love the Rowan when you meet her. She said that she would consider you when you have finished your training, because you are my brother and because we two knew our temperaments weren't complementary. But I told her that you would be because you're so clever and understanding. I missed you terribly, afra. Just wait till you see the trees they have on Altair. Whole forests of trees, darling... big trees and small ones, different shades of green and blue and many different shapes of trunk, branch and leaf All of them fragrant. Altair's not as large as Capella but it is a good place. I did so well in my course that Capella said that she will definitely place me in this system, and, as she held afra from her to peer into his face, 'to work in a Capellan Tower.

Did you 'Aloud, please, afra,' she said, hearing her mother come into the room.

know that Stationmaster Hasardar gave me some special training, after school hours? He said I had Tower potential, too!' He offered that praise as a homecoming present for her, but he didn't mention the credit coin aloud. Or even in his mind.

'How very good of Hasardar. How clever of you, afra dear,' she said, releasing him from her embrace and rising to greet her mother more formally. 'Mother, Capella was very pleased both with my course of study on Altair and with the report Siglen of Altair sent her of me.' Cheswina smoothed her daughter's hair in a brief, loving gesture and smiled 'You bring honour to our family' 'afra will bring more, Goswina said, looking fondly down at him.

'That remains to be seen,' Cheswina said, her expression bordering on the severe, for she did not believe that it was right to praise a child for what he or she could be expected to do. Reward should never be a consideration of effort.

However, Goswina did merit some special indulgence for having brought honour to the family so her favorite dishes were served at dinner that evening and she'd be allowed a visit from Vessily Ogdon.

On returning from his Tower shift that evening, Gas Lyon smiled in benign approval at his daughter. When everyone had eaten a sufficiency of the excellent meal, he handed her an official note. He contained his pride as his overjoyed firstborn communicated to everyone at the table that Capella had appointed her to the staff of the southern Tower, one of the busier local FT&T facilities.

That means you're going away again! afra cried out in distress.

Silly! I won't be so far that we can't keep in touch all the time. 'Forgive me, Father, Mother,' Goswina added hastily, blushing for such a gross social lapse, 'but afra was so disturbed 'afra must learn to control his feelings,' Gas Lyon said, bending a stern gaze on his youngest. 'Tower staff must always contain their emotions. To splash about personal reactions exhibits a woeful absence of discipline and an abysmal lack of courtesy and consideration. I'll have no child of mine so ill-mannered. One can never learn respect too early in life.' Later, dear. Goswina shot the very private thought tightly to her brother, so fast her parents would not have caught it, being less telepathically Talented than herself. But she had to do something to relieve the woeful expression on afra's face and unwind the tension of his small thin body. Shrivelled by the parental disapproval, he had curled in on himself, arms clasped tight across his chest, head down.

Prior to her course at Altair, she would never have dared even think of criticizing her parents. She didn't entirely approve of Altair's social manners but she had also seen a different sort of society that apparently worked quite well.

And afra was so very sensitive to his father's disapproval and, sometimes, very privately, Goswina thought her parents could be a trifle more lenient and understanding.

After all, he was the most Talented of them all and needed extra, specially astute handling.

'Now, now,' Gas Lyon said, realizing that perhaps he had been too severe with afra, 'I know you meant neither disrespect nor disobedience, afra. Tonight is a time for rejoicing.' His soft words and gentle tone, as well as the shaft of love and reassurance directed at his son, had the desired effect on afra and he was soon smiling when Goswina began her almost day-by-day account of her Altairian sojourn.

afra also 'heard' unfinished sentiments and, once, caught her remembered alarm. He fervently hoped that her 'later' would come soon so he'd find out all those bits and pieces she left out of the public recital.

'Later' was going to really be 'later' for Vessily Ogdon arrived at the door, on time as usual, palpably eager to see his betrothed.

afra didn't like staying in the same room with Vessily and Goswina because he was acutely aware of their attachment. Since Vessily was a T-5 and even older than Goswina, afra thought that he ought to know how to control himself. He was amazed that his father didn't say anything about leaking emotions to Vessily.

As afra retired to his room, he heard the depth of Vessily's discontent with Goswina's posting to the Southern Station. But he heard Goswina's telepathic reassurance - and Gas Lyon who was chaperoning the couple, said nothing about that! - afra was also vexed to hear Goswina say exactly the same things to Vessily that she'd said to him - only her tone was much different.

afra puzzled over that. How could the same words sound so different coming from the same mind? Goswina loved him, but he knew that she also loved Vessily. afra understood that everyone should have love enough to give special friends, even many special friends.

Goswina loved him and she had a special tone for him, but she also loved Vessily - and hadn't wanted to leave Capella for Altair because of Vessily, or so she'd said out loud - and she had another special tone for Vessily. That was very strange, and afra went to sleep pondering that mystery.

Goswina kept her word to him, even if 'later' was the next morning at first light. He woke the moment he felt her mind brush his. Of course, she no longer slept in with him as she had when he was a baby, but her room was adjacent to his. As had long been their custom, he put his hand up on the wall that separated them, knowing that she did the same thing. Not that they needed contact but it was a friendly remnant of childish habit.

What bothered you, Gossie, that you couldn't tell Father and Mother? He shot her a glimpse of the scene of her panicky flight to the parking lot.

Well, it wasn't anything -- Huh? That's not what you really think.

Well, one evening, we got permission to go to a concert in Altair Port. She showed him a picture of them all driving off together but she was still concealing something. You don't need to know every cross on the Ts and the dots on the Is, afra.

Sorry!

It's just that Altairian concerts are different from ours. And I don't mean the music they played. I mean, they have a much more flamboyant way of performing.

How? Since his encounter with the freighter chief, afra had taken every opportunity his duties afforded him to meet other crews, with their variety of skin shades and physical attributes. He also liked hearing the different languages, and the odd things crews said from time to time, most of which he didn't exactly understand. It was often hard to find someone willing to explain variations to his enquiring mind. Some Talents had a way of wriggling past public shields to the real truths but he didn't expect to be able to do that for some years to come. Now that Goswina was back, maybe she'd tell him. But he wouldn't interrupt her with his questions now.

They are... far more demonstrative than we would be, and i6

-r afra could tell that she was carefully editing the thoughts she let him see. She was falling into his parents' habit of 'protecting' him. He wasn't a sissy. He was over six - nearly seven.

No, you're not a sissy, afra, and you're a very clever nearly seven or Hasardar wouldn't let you run errands for him. It was an adult concert, Affie, and not something you would understand or enjoy.

afra caught her mental disgust. It's not as ?f I'd start acting like a nutty Altairian, Gossie.

Please let me see!

Oh, don't push me around, afra. I have absolutely no intention of contaminating an impressionable young mind like yours.

I said, and Goswina's mental touch unexpectedly firmed against him, don't probe, or I won't tell you anything else.

afra projected compliance because he couldn't bear for Goswina to shut him out and not tell him the exciting thing that was at the edge of her mind.

So Goswina did tell him about her dismay at what she would only term a lewd public display of affection, her mind so tightly shielded that he couldn't catch a glimpse of what had made her leave the concert arena so abruptly.

afra hadn't heard 'lewd' before but it couldn't be an acceptable word, considering the way she coloured it in her mind - a slimy muddy yellow brown.

The music had been wonderful. Music always is, Goswina continued, and then they had to spoil it. The Rowan left with me. I was glad because she was much too young to see that sort of thing, even if it is her native planet and she might be accustomed to such displays. That's when I found out that she was the reason so many Talents were invited to go to Altair.

You see, the Rowan is really a Prime so of course she couldn't leave Altair, what with the way space travel sickens Primes, soFT&T set up the course to introduce possible Tower crew to her, when she's old enough to have her own Prime Tower.

You didn't get space sick, did you? afra would have been disgusted, even with his beloved Gossie, if she had.

Of course not, but I'm a T-6. The sickness only affects Primes.

All of us on the course thought the Rowan was just a T4.

Goswina's thought brightened with delight at having been the first to learn the truth. She's not much younger than I am but ever so much stronger.

She's being trained in her duties by Siglen, just as our Capella was.

I suppose all Primes were young once, like the Rowan, Goswina added thoughtfully. She's an orphan. All her family, everyone who knew her, were killed in an avalanche when she was only three years old. They said that the whole planet heard her crying for help.

Goswina did not add the other things she'd heard about how Siglen had behaved at that time because it wasn't proper to criticize a Prime for any reason whatsoever. But the Rowan is very strong, and so clever, and generous, and brave. I could never have done what she did when those awful boys attacked us.

ATTACKED YOU? There're indent gangs on Altair? So that was what Goswina hadn't told the parents. Not that afra blamed her. They'd've been very upset at the insult to their daughter and there could have been embarrassing repercussions. What sort of a barbaric place is Altair?

Now, afra, it isn't barbaric. It's really very - very sophisticated; much more worldly than Capella is with no Method to guide them. And I wasn't hurt. I was scared. Anyway, the Rowan took care of them. afra could hear something akin to righteous satisfaction tingeing Goswina's thoughts. She just flicked them out of the way as we'd brush sandflies and without any gestalt to help her. Then, cool as you please, she ordered a cab and we got back safely to the Tower complex.

That's when I told her all about you.

Me?

Yes, dearest brother of them all, you. Because your minds will match. I just know they will. afra heard her hand slap the wall for emphasis. And she has promised me that she will see that you take the course at Altair too, when you're old enough.

She will? But I'd have to be away from you afra, dearest, Talents like us aren't more than a thought away.

I couldn't think at you when you were on Altair.

Well, I'm home now... and the Southern Station is well within your range, brother dear. Now, it's time for us to be up. And for you to study hard so you'll be ready when the Rowan needs you.

As afra grew up, that promise began to assume more and more significance - mainly as the passport off Capella and the strict, almost stifling, code of conduct expected of him by his parents. His interactions with freighter and passenger crews, with occasional visitors whom Hasardar had him conduct from their personal capsules to the Tower, had broadened his experience of different cultures and systems.

He encountered the gallon-sized brown chief on a regular basis over the next nine years. Chief Damitcha liked the odd dignity of the 'pint-sized greenie', though that description rarely crossed the chiefs mind after he learned afra's name. It was Damitcha who introduced afra to the art of paper-folding, origami, which had been part of his ancestors' culture.

afra had been fascinated to see Damitcha's thick fingers deliberately and delicately creasing, folding and producing the most elegant creatures, objects and flowers from coloured sheets.

'Old fashioned sea sailors used to carve things in their off-duty hours,' Damitcha explained, deftly making a bird he called a heron, with outstretched wings, long legs and neck. 'Scrimshaw, they called it. Have museums of the stuff on old Earth and I seen it once on leave there. But spacemen gotta watch weight and so paper's perfect. Beats the hell outa watching fractiles or such like. Keeps my fingers supple for finicky board repairs, too.' When afra begged to be taught how to do origami foldings, Damitcha produced an instruction tape for him and even gave him several sheets of his special coloured papers.

afra told Goswina about this hobby but Goswina was so involved with being a new Tower technician and wife that her response was more automatic than enthusiastic: all part of her detachment from her previous ties. afra did understand that she had other claims on her time, that she still loved him but that working in the Tower was far more exciting than listening to her little brother. Hasardar was handier and could be relied on for approval and amazement at what afra could create out of a sheet of paper. He pinned samples of afra's handiwork on his bulletin board and took the manipulable ones home to amuse his children.

On his next trip into Capell, Damitcha presented afra with a box of origami papers, all sizes and many beautiful shades and patterns.

He brought historical tapes about Oriental arts and even a small paper book on Japanese brush calligraphy.

As afra grew older, and assumed other duties, Damitcha would join him in Hasardar's office for chats, for meal breaks, for long evening discussions. So afra learned far more details about other systems than were taught in his classroom.

Damitcha retired from active service with the freighting company and, though he frequently sent messages to his 'pint-sized greenie' to which afra usually responded, the boy did not find another so congenial. The curiosity that Damitcha had generated in the young afra would never fail and the boy continued to make far more contact with other cultures than his parents knew, or would consider advisable for their impressionable son.

However, that same curiosity troubled afra for it made him uncomfortably aware that he found great interest in matters his family considered quite trivial or useless. afra spent hours in his early teen years examining his inner self, trying to find the flaw in him that wanted more than he could have on Capella; that was fascinated by 'other worldly notions'; that resented the loving supervision of his parents and the path they had chosen for him to follow.

The fact that he knew they loved him burdened him in his striving to be different. Their main concern was to keep the family's honour unsullied, which meant adhering to proven ways. With their love, wisdom and (they thought) insight into the characters and abilities of their children, Gas Lyon and Cheswina were convinced that they knew what was best. Especially for afra.

From Goswina on down, his siblings were quite willing to have their lives ordered by their parents. As minor Talents, they each moved serenely into secure careers in the service of FT&T and that was as far as any of them looked. Goswina's happy marriage and her skills as a technician made her conclude that following parental example would also lead afra to happiness. So she did not understand his rebellion, nor that he had been exposed to different standards over the years.

Certainly his interest in 'other worldly' things extended to unusual species, like the barque cats on the liner Bucephalus.

Damitcha had told him about these strange space-faring variants of Terran felines.

'We don't have one, but next time the old Buc cradles down here, ask the chief - a woman named Marsha Meilo - if you can see theirs.

They gotta new litter but - sorry lad, they're not planet beasts.

They stay in space.' afra looked up 'barque cat' and the screen showed the current prize-winning sire, Garfield Per Astra, a magnificent beast of tawny brown with his undercoat a tan, with black stripes, and face markings that made him look both benign and exceedingly wise. His eyes were yellow, like afra's, but that wasn't what endeared him to the boy as much as his air of arrogant independence did.

There were many halos of the unusually marked felines, long histories of their pedigrees, breeding and nurture, their deftness in finding tiny holes in hulls and giving warning to the crew, their almost incredible talent for survival in space wrecks. FIND THE BC!

was the motto of every space salvage group. Any vessel harbouring a barque cat would have BC ABOARD in huge letters in various positions on the hull.

The next time the Bucephalus rocked into a Capellan cradle, afra deserted his immediate task and was in the group hovering by the crew gangway.

'Whatcha got, kid?' a spaceman asked, noticing afra, who was almost dancing about in his anxiety to get someone's attention.

'Chief Damitcha of the freighter Zanzibar gave me a message for your Chief Marsha Meilo.

The crewman vacillated between annoyance and curiosity.

'Yeah? What's the message?' 'I'm to give it to her,' he said.

'Oh, he did, huh? Didn't know he knew -- What's the matter, kid?' For afra had just seen the barque cat who strolled indolently to the gangway to peer out in as supercilious a manner as the highest Methody preacher 'Oh, that's Treasure Island Queen,' and the crewman's pride in the beast was obvious.

afra extended his hand to the cat, for they were on a level, Treasure on the ship and afra on the ground. The crewman kicked his hand away and afra jumped back in alarm and hurt.

'Sorry, kid, we don't like our barquie picking up any planetary germs. No touchee. Just lookee. She is a beauty, ain't she?' and the crewman, rather ashamed of his defensiveness, hunkered down to pet the cat.

afra, hands clasped tightly behind his back, could not tear his eyes off the sleek and elegant creature. Treasure, luxuriating in the crewman 5 caresses, murmured her appreciation and turned her aristocratic face towards the wide-eyed boy.

'Hmmmmrow!' she said, plainly addressing afra.

'Hey, kid, you rate. She don't usually speak to landlubbers.' afra listened with all his heart and heard the satisfaction of Treasure's mind for the caresses she was enjoying.

Delicately she sniffed, as much in afra's direction as in general at the atmosphere of Capella, but he took it as a personal accolade and desperately wanted to be able to stroke her, to have such a lovely creature for his own.

You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, afra dared to say.

Mmmmmmrow! Mmmmmrrr!

There seemed to be no mental equivalent for that except pleasure.

Abruptly she leaped away from the door and out of his sight. Just then a group of uniformed men and women emerged and quickly the crewman gestured for afra to make himself scarce as he stood to attention, saluting those who filed out of the ship.

afra mulled over that incident for several days before he asked Hasardar about barque cats.

'Them? Well, for one thing, they're not allowed planetside.

Those spacers keep them pretty much to themselves. Oh, they trade them between ships, to avoid inbreeding 'Inbreeding?' 'Too close a blood tie - weakens the strain, they say.' afra didn't have a chance to ask more questions. He knew without asking that his parents would not permit him to have any kind of an animal. Not in the Tower enclosure.

But that didn't keep him from checking with all the bigger ships to see if they had barque cats. Spacemen were only too happy to brag about their beasts and if afra couldn't touch, he could admire, and 'path them. Mostly they responded, which tickled him and actually improved his relations with all ships' crews. 'That yellow eyed greenie that the barquies talk to' became his informal designation in Capella Port. His fascination with the animals helped ease his loneliness and he studied pedigrees, and asked questions of any barque cat crew, until he probably knew the lineage and distribution of the animals as well as any spacefarer. His most precious treasure was a packet of holographs of various dignified barquies given him by their proud owners.

But, as afra grew older and his Talent strengthened, he became less tolerant of the parochial attitudes of his parents despite his love for them. Reared as he had been to restrain his emotions, he mentally chafed against the loving bonds and the parental assumption that he would be delighted to take a place - more exalted than theirs as a T-4 which they did not resent - in Capella Tower.

By his fifteenth year, he had begun to find ways of sliding away from his family's supervision - first mentally when he attended the Capella training sessions and met Talents from nearby systems. Then, physically, when he would clandestinely join his student friends in the few innocent and mild diversions available on his Methodistic planet: diversions his peers regarded as kid stuff. Then, psychologically, when he had the chance to add more adult tapes and disks to those Damitcha had given him. He learned vicariously what 'diversions' could he had on other planets. He began to appreciate just how unsophisticated Capella was, how narrow its moral code, how much more diverse and rich other lifestyles were.

He knew, as all Talents did, that the Rowan had left Altair to become Prime on the new FT&T installation on Callisto, Jupiter's moon.

He heard, for he made certain that he did, of all the personnel shifts and changes required to suit the Rowan. Older members of the Capella team criticized her for such vacillation.

'Much too young to be made a Prime. That needs a mature, stable, responsible personality. What is FT&T coming to?' was the consensus.

No-one mentioned what was so obvious to afra: that there were far too few Prime Talents to wait until the Rowan was 'old' enough whenever that would be - to accede to a Prime's duties.

afra was also perversely excited by such reports of hiring and firing. That sort of thing never happened on Capella.

Once drafted to the Tower, that's where a Talent stayed - until he or she retired after a suitable length of service.

Young afra, now an apprentice in Capella's Tower, was in a position to learn that the Rowan had a powerful thrust, never dumped capsules into cradles, hadn't damaged cargo or passengers, and expedited both in- and out-system traffic, despite the handicap of great Jupiter occluding Callisto at irregular intervals.

Of all the Talents surrounding the young afra, only Hasardar seemed to appreciate his restless disquiet. Yet afra could not bring himself to apply even to him for advice on how to break out of the stultifying future that had been arranged for him.

When he gained manly status at sixteen, he felt it was time to remind Goswina about the Rowan's promise.

'Oh, afra dear, you are only sixteen,' and though afra could not doubt that she still loved him, he felt that she regarded him as little more than a child. Certainly he was no longer as important a love for her. But a mother should favour her sons above a brother. Which, sadly, he had to accept, knowing more of human relationships than he had ten years before.

'Callisto's one of the most important stations in the Federation,' Goswina went on, her thought backing up a tone that said she didn't feel he should complain about his obvious future. 'Besides, now that the Rowan has her own Tower, they don't give the courses at Altair any more.' 'But you've heard how often staff gets changed at Callisto. And you said that I'd complement her. You must remember that, Goswina!

Maybe it's me she's looking for.' Goswina gently smiled at her brother's fervour. 'Now, dear, I hear that Ementish will retire in two years. You'd do very well in that posting. In the meantime, I'll see if you can't work at one of the southern subsidiary links. You'd be young to be on your own in some of those isolated waystations, but you'd be getting such good practice at catching and sending.

'Sending drones?' afra was contemptuous. He'd been catching drones at Hasardar's bequest for two years. The novelty had long since worn off. For his dear Goswina to recommend such a posting was a blow to his self-esteem.

He was a T-4, 'path and 'port. He could do better than that for himself.

'You did rather let the family down, you know, Affie,' she went on, sweetly chiding. 'Father expected you to get highest honours, not just a mere First ---' 'Mere First?' afra was appalled for he had worked very hard to achieve that standard. No student in his year had been given a highest honours degree and he had been one of only three Firsts. But, once again, he sensed that her deeper thoughts were distracted by what scholastic achievements her young sons were likely to make. 'Thanks,' afra said, trying not to sound bitter and, before she could ask him to mind his nephews, excused himself from her neatly kept house.

So he began to look at the other job opportunities for T-4s. As all his training, all his background had been to prepare him for the Tower, he was woefully short of the requirements for other sorts of assignments and would have to go through an apprentice year to refocus his Talent. Besides which, he wanted to get off Capella.

He toyed with the idea of asking Capella's help: she was always pleasant to him when he encountered her in the Complex gardens or in the leisure facilities. But Capella might think him ungrateful, wanting to leave his native planet, and his request would most certainly embarrass his family.

His chance came when he heard that the Rowan had fired yet another T-4 from Callisto Station. It took every bit of credit he had in the meagre personal account he had started with Damitcha's coin to courier his profile to Callisto in the mailbag. He had spent almost a full day to compose the accompanying note, and several hours before he was satisfied with the slanting lines of his calligraphy, much influenced by Damitcha's book. The note was brief enough, mentioning only that his sister Goswina remembered the Rowan most fondly from the course at Altair and would the Rowan consider his application to Callisto Tower.

He endured suspense greater than when he had awaited his test results and he'd thought that period had been nearly insupportable. He figured that he couldn't expect an answer for several days, despite the speed with which FT&T mail packets were flipped about the galaxy.

Therefore, he was totally surprised when Hasardar called him on the vid.

'You've lucked out, lad,' Hasardar said, waving a red transport chit, the kind that meant priority handling.

'Soon's you can throw some things together, you're to find a capsule to fit your long bones.' 'A capsule? Where'm I being sent?' 'Callisto, you lucky dog. The Rowan's looking for a T-4

and you're to get a trial.' afra stared at Hasardar, momentarily paralysed by news he had candidly never thought to receive.

'You're to go to Callisto, afra?' his mother demanded in a feeble tone, as stunned as he was.

Having had no inkling as to the nature of the stationmaster's call, afra had not activated a privacy setting so his parents had heard every word.

'Yes, indeed, Cheswina,' Hasardar repeated, rather surprised by the Lyon family's muted reaction to their son's great good fortune, 'afra's been ordered to Callisto.' 'But how would Callisto have known of afra?' Gas asked, staring at his son as if the young man had changed shape.

afra affected a shrug, keeping a very tight control on his thoughts even though he knew his father couldn't, as well as wouldn't, stoop to probing.

'Maybe the Rowan Prime remembered her promise to Goswina,' afra said, delighted that his voice didn't crack with excitement. 'Which is very good of her, you must admit. A promise made a decade ago. Who'd expect a Prime to remember?' He knew he was babbling as much from jubilation as a sudden fright that, in surprise, his parents might deny him the right to go.

'A Prime is exactly the person who would remember,' his father told him reproachfully. 'Our family is indeed honoured. But didn't I hear that you were to be assigned to a substation? I know you're being considered as a replacement for Ementish in our Tower?' There was a wistful emphasis on the possessive pronoun.

'Father, I can hardly refuse to go to Callisto, can I?' afra said, pretending a reluctant obedience to a Prime directive, but he could scarcely shout out his inner joy when his parents were so distressed at his news. 'I must gather travel necessities.' 'Come when you're ready, afra. You can be despatched any time in the next hour,' Hasardar said.

'It is only an interview,' he added tactfully and disconnected.

Cheswina was trying hard to control her dismay at the prospect of her youngest child's abrupt departure. She did not feel that afra was ready to meet the world on his own, though she had started looking for a suitable wife for him.

There were plenty of girls who'd look favourably on her tall thin son because he was T-4.

Gas Lyon rose from the breakfast table. 'I am deeply concerned, afra, about your being sent to such an unstable Tower situation.' 'It is just an interview,' afra said, reinforcing his aura of dutiful compliance.

'I have heard,' Gas Lyon continued, both expression and mind radiating an anxiety that even a T-1O would have sensed,-'that the Rowan is a very difficult Prime to work with. Her station personnel are constantly being changed. You would be foolish to risk 'Humiliation?' and afra hooked the unspoken word out of Gas Lyon's mind. 'Father, there would be no shame, or blame, if the Rowan did not find me acceptable.' afra felt every fibre of his being denying his words, every ounce of his strength shielding his true thoughts from his distraught parents. 'There would, however, I feel, be an implied insult if I didn't at least appear for this interview. I will pack a few things --.' Indeed there was little in his room that he could not leave behind - with the exception of his halos of barque cats, his origami flock, his supply of paper and Damitcha's book. -- and report as requested to the Rowan on Callisto. It is so generous of her to remember her promise to Goswina.' Before his control on his real feelings weakened, afra strode from the room. As he tossed a change of clothing, Tower shoes, halos, origamis and the book into a carisak, he probed deftly at his parents. His father was clearly stunned and most perturbed, uncomplimentarily concerned that his youngest could handle the courtesies involved. His mother's mind was running about in circles; would afra present himself properly, would he be restrained and mannerly, would this Rowan person appreciate that he came from a good family and had been raised to the high standards demanded of Tower personnel, would he afra closed the sack and returned to say farewell to his parents. This moment was far harder for him than he -realized especially when he wished so fervently that he would not be back in the few days his parents felt he'd be gone.

-'I shall bring honour on the family name,' he said to his father, lightly touching Gas Lyon's chest over his heart. 'Mother, I shall be extremely well-behaved,' and he caressed her cheek softly.

His throat suddenly closed and he felt an unexpected burning behind his eyes. He hadn't anticipated such a reaction when he had wanted so desperately for so long to leave home. Much too abruptly for courtesy, he flung himself out of the house and strode as fast as his long legs would take him to the personnel launch cradles of the station.

He'd seen the procedure often enough to know exactly what to do.

The personnel carrier was comfortable enough; certainly, no different from any of the drills or the few short distances he'd been teleported.

A T- 10 he knew checked him, grinned as he closed and locked the cover, slapped it in casual farewell and only then did afra remember that he hadn't contacted Goswina.

Gossie afra! You have a genius for picking the most awkward moments - Gossie, I'm going to Callist afra, Capella's firm mental voice interrupted him then, on the count of three... I wish you good luck, afra.

The next moment he knew he was being 'ported across the incredible spatial distance to Callisto. That didn't take as long as he had somehow assumed it would. He was aware of the 'portation, the sensation of disorientation that he knew he was expected to feel.

Small wonder Primes, being so sensitive, had problems even on passenger liners. He was certainly aware when the changeover was made, when Capella released his capsule into the Rowan's control.

afra? Did you tell your sister that the Rowan kept her promise?

The Rowan's mental tone, so different to Capella's, to anyone else's he had ever encountered in his lifetime, chimed silverly in his mind. The contact had a brilliance, a vivacity, and a resonance which immediately enthralled him.

I told her I was coming to Callisto.

Well, you're here. Come to the Tower. You are welcome, afra. A silvery laugh shivered in his mind. You know, I think Goswina was right. We'll see.

The cover was unlocked and a rather anxious looking man, wearing stationmaster's tabs on his collar, extended a hand.

'afra? Brian Ackerman.' The man's anxiety began to fade as they clasped hands. 'Capella grows 'em long, doesn't it?' he said, grinning as afra got to his feet, standing centimetres taller than the stockier stationmaster.

'The Rowan can play games but don't let 'em get to you, huh?' he added in the tight low tones that suggested to afra that Brian had his mental shields in place to deliver that brief advice.

afra nodded soberly and followed the stationmaster to the Tower.

It was only then that he noticed, and swallowed against his surprise, that Callisto Tower was a domed facility. In fact, a combination of domes plus the big ship launch area with cradles that ranged from the single he'd been landed in to the immense complex metal affairs that accommodated large passenger liners or naval vessels.

Above them loomed Jupiter. afra controlled the instinct to hunch away from the giant planet. No doubt he would get accustomed to its dominating presence.

He also found himself breathing shallowly, and controlled that reaction as well: there was plenty of air on this moon.

'You get used to it,' Brian Ackerman said with a grin.

'Is it that obvious?' afra asked.

Brian grinned. 'Everyone feels the old man and, sometimes, the whole alien feel' - he made a sweep of his arm to include the domes 'can really get to the planet bred.' They had reached the facility by then, a Tower more by grace than fact for there was only the one raised section that could be termed a tower. The administrative building was compact, three storeyed, the only windows the clear plexiglas that wrapped around the tower portion, giving the Prime three hundred and sixty degrees of visibility.

Lights under the fascia boards of the roof beamed down on the plantings, counterfeiting sunlight enough to encourage growth.

Luminous Jupiter's light did not support earth vegetation. To afra's surprise, he saw a small copse of trees at the back of the terrain-hugging residence off to the right of the Tower complex.

'The Rowan's,' Brian said, noticing his glance, and then palmed the door open. 'She lives here. Primes don't travel much, you know, but she's good about sending us downside on leave Inside the main room, consoles and work tables were placed along the walls, neat enough now as personnel were apparently closing down operations. There was a buzz of friendly chat and considerable interest in Ackerman's companion.

afra caught mental buzz that identified him as the Capellan T-4.

No longer a pint-sized greenie, afra thought very quietly and grinned.

If he suited the Rowan, he might even be able to see old Damitcha who had retired downside to Kyoto.

Vague reassurances were aimed in his direction, some of them wistful, some of them pessimistic about his chances but there were smiles enough to make him feel welcome.

'You were the last shipment in today,' Brian said.

'Coffee?' 'Coffee?' afra was surprised. That was a caffeinated substance which was, of course, unavailable on Capella.

Something to do with the expense of it. 'I wouldn't mind a cup.' He fished that phrase out of Brian's mind 'D'you like it black, white, sweetened?' 'How do you like it?' 'Never had any?' 'No,' and afra smiled ruefully 'Well, try it black and see if you like it. Then we can add milk and sweetener to your taste.

afra was trying not to probe around for the Prime. There were so many people milling about, some of them flustered with the day's tasks, some hoping to leave for home pretty soon, that he wondered if she were down here. No-one matched the vivid mental picture Goswina had given him so long ago. Then he realized that the Rowan would be ten years older and more mature than that mischievous girl.

Just as Brian handed him a mug with an opaque black liquid, he knew the Rowan was in the room. He turned slightly to his left, towards the beverage dispenser which Brian had just left. Three people, a man and two women, were serving themselves. afra's attention fell on the slenderer female figure, a mane of unexpectedly silver hair falling to her shoulders although her face was young, and oddly attractive though not in a classic style of beauty.

He felt the first spurt - and ruthlessly suppressed that sense of strong affinity.

Although the girl wasn't very tall and had a pale, rather than slightly greenish skin tone, she had the lean look of a Capellan. But there was no doubt in his mind that she was the Rowan.

Full marks to you, Goswina's brother afra, she said and, audibly excusing herself from her companions, she jerked her head towards the steps to the Tower level. If you'll join me?

Her very casual manner was quite a change from Capella's formality.

I had my craw full of protocol and elaborate convention on Altair, afra. I run a Tower, not a tea party. I also don't usually 'path conversations. For Goswina's brother I'll make an exception today.

He followed her up the winding metal steps, a bit surprised that she didn't have a ramp as Capella did.

'You'll find I'm not at all like Capella, or Siglen, or any of the other Primes you might have met.

'Capella's the only one I've ever met.

They were in the Tower room now, with her conformable couch, the various monitors and consoles that were standard furniture for a Prime's domain. Great Jupiter was visible, and the stark moonscape beyond theFT&T domes. The Rowan gestured for him to take the seat by the auxiliary console. Then she leaned back against the outer wall and cocked her head. He felt no contact from her mind but, unless he was completely mistaken, there was a bond growing between them. He hoped so for he had never met anyone like her before - so radiant, so vital, so vivid. Strength was an almost visible aura about her. And his father had always maintained that Primes contained themselves?

'I'd take you for Goswina's brother. You've the look of her.

Sort of.' She smiled, an expression that only increased his attraction for her. 'What did they say when you got my message?' 'They were surprised. Then my father said that a Prime would remember a promise.

'Ah!' Her grin was mischievous. 'So your family didn't know you had applied to me directly?' afra shook his head, unable, however, to break eye contact. So he gave a rueful shrug and attempted a self-deprecating smile.

'Aren't you supposed to take up a position at Capella Tower?' 'When Ementish retires.' Her grey eyes danced. 'And that fills you with so much elation that you had to give me first refusal?' 'Capella is a good planet ---' 'Goody good, I'd've said.

afra cocked an eyebrow at her qualification. 'When we took the Tower course, I met Talents from other systems. He shrugged again, not willing to belittle his home world.

'And you wanted to see more of the galaxy?' 'One doesn't see much of the galaxy as a T-4 in a Tower but I thought that it might be...

challenging to spend some time elsewhere.' She gave him a curious look.

'What are those odd shapes in your carisak?' It was the last question he expected of her but he also realized that the Rowan would be unpredictable.

'Origami. The ancient art of paper folding.' Not at all certain he should act brashly, he 'ported his favorite swan - in a silvery white paper - into his hand and offered it to her.

With a wondering smile on her face, she took it from him, turning the bird this way and that, delicately opening its wings.

'How charming! And you just fold paper into that shape.' 'What's your favorite colour?' he asked.

'Red. Crimson red!' He extracted a red sheet from his supply and, when he had it in his hands, he rapidly folded a flower which he offered her with a little bow.

'Well, that's not a mental exercise at all, is it?' she said, examining the flower. 'Flip, flop and you've got a small masterpiece.

Is that what people do on Capella for entertainment?' -afra shook his head. 'A freighter chief named Damitcha taught me - while Goswina was on Altair. I missed her, you see. Origami helped.' The Rowan's expression altered to one of compassionate apology - and he felt the lightest mental touch, reinforcing It.

'She missed you, too, afra. I heard all about you.' 'And you remembered your promise.' 'Not quite, afra,' she said, propelling herself towards her chair and whirling around to seat herself.

'Because there's no course on Altair any more and you're already trained. So let's see if Goswina was right, that our minds will complement each other in the running of this Tower!' She let him hear what she then said. Reidinger, I've found me another T4. afra of Capella. He folds paper!

Which is at least original. And he keeps halos of barque cats.

So she'd seen those, too, in her mental sorting of his belongings.

ROWAN!

afra winced as the bellow singed his mind edges. The Rowan grinned mischievously at him and signalled that he wasn't to mind the noisiness.

Well, he can't be any worse than the one who was certain that Jupiter would fall on her. Or that absolute dark from Betelgeuse who couldn't take the least bit of teasing. Much less that martinet you thought was just the sort to steady me while I was learning my job!

No, this time, Reidinger, I get to pick one. And that's that!

Then she winked at afra. 'I had an illegal barque cat once. I named him Rascal and he was but the ungrateful feline deserted me on the liner that brought me here.' She gave a little shrug and a wry grin. 'Not that I blamed him the way I carried on.' 'They hear us, you know,' afra said, thinking that a safe enough remark.

She looked surprised. 'I suspected Rascal did. We enjoyed a friendly empathy but has one spoken to you?' 'Hmmmmm-rowwww!' The Rowan threw back her head and laughed with delight.

'You're one up on me then, afra.' 'Not for long, I think,' he replied, pure relief at surviving these initial moments, jolting the uncharacteristic retort from mind to mouth.

She laughed again, idly swinging the chair from side to side.

'Shall we keep score?' 'How much can I lose before you fire me out of here?' He didn't believe it was himself answering a Prime like this.

'Well, I just don't know, afra. The problem hasn't come up before, she said, winking. 'The others have been such blockheads, they couldn't have capped a phrase if I'd handed them the hat! And,' she waggled a finger at him, 'if you hold your own against Reidinger when he vets you, you'll do yourself a favour there, too. Enough of this!

I'll show you your quarters.' She slid gracefully to her feet and beckoned him to follow. 'We're off for the next six hours, you know, so there's time for you to settle in before the station's operational again. Then we'll just see how good Goswina's little brother afra is!' by two conformable chairs and a rather battered low table.

Callisto personnel had better quarters than afra expected for a moon installation. He was frequently told that Callisto had been state-of-the-art when it was constructed eight years ago. Every new safeguard device since then was immediately incorporated into Callisto's dome. FT&T was not risking its Callisto Prime, and her station crew benefited.

Married personnel had quarters with their own garden and recreational area under their secondary dome. Single staff had two room apartments plus a large dining and recreational lounge. A well-fitted gymnasium centre used by everyone occupied another secondary dome, reached by a short tunnel, though the locks on both ends were standing open. The Tower facility, small capsule cradles plus the generators, underground fuel tanks, main water storage was mainly underground with access in a third small dome: the passenger and naval vessel size cradles under a fourth with airlocks and auxiliary tunnels to the main facilities.

The Rowan's private residence with its small copse and garden, off to one side of the main complex, was under a fifth while the main dome offered primary shielding to all. Emergency upright shelters were strategically situated in case of a major strike penetrating the first and second domes and each living unit automatically sealed and had emergency oxygen supplies for twenty-four hours - the maximum time estimated for help to arrive from other stations in the system.

afra found his apartment more than adequate, even to an imitation fire on a hearth in the lounge room, flanked To one side of the mantel was a complicated orological device that displayed Earth time and Callisto's time in terms of revolutions about its primary, and a second orrery depicting Callisto's orbit around immense Jupiter as well as the erratic orbits of the other moons. If he read it correctly, he had another five hours and fifteen minutes before he should report back to the Tower.

Although there were cupboards, shelving for tape, vids, gamescreens, and far more closets than he needed for his one pitiful carisak, there was plenty of space for other furniture, suggesting he could make his own choices of additional pieces.

The ubiquitous communications desk was exceedingly well appointed with a patently brand new console and auxiliaries. When he turned it on, an introductory message filled the screen, inviting him to initiate personal codes and install any programs. He was informed that he had a monthly limit of free calls to his home system, that he could order necessities from Earth on the weekly supply drones at no cost or immediately at a special rate for FT&T employees. Facetiously keying a query on his credit balance, he gasped in surprise at the amount of draw he was permitted for an out-of-system transfer, the allowance provided for redecorating and furnishing his quarters, and how to obtain downside authorization and credit facilities for FT&T personnel.

'Another matter no-one ever explained to me,' he murmured. 'Or maybe the parents expected to manage my credit for me, too.

He placed the barque cat halos on one shelf above the console and his flock of origamis on the next, fussing over their placement. He leaned the calligraphy book against the side of the third shelf and snorted. Well, he suspected that he'd find plenty to fill out those shelves.

He investigated the bathroom, noticing the warning of daily personal water allotment, peeked into the tiny refreshment cabinet which included many exotic choices for a Capellan Methody lad, and went on into the sleeping room. The bed was as firm as he liked it and big enough for several bodies the size of his. That opened up another vista for him, heretofore scrupulously unmentioned, even if his parents had been considering the stabilizing influence of a nice girl for him.

He grinned. Earth was not that far away and Brian Ackerman had mentioned that downside trips were possible. Tempting!

Then he noticed the second orological display.

'They don't risk your forgetting the time around here, do they?' Even in this privacy, he felt a trifle silly talking to himself. 'I need some music.' 'If you will name your preferences, these can be supplied on a select or random basis,' said a velvet alto which could be either male or female.

Delighted to have a voice address in-room system, afra rattled off a list of his favorites and the soft string instrumental opus began the moment he paused to decide what else he'd like to have on tap.

'Thank you.' 'Courtesy is not required.' 'It was where I was reared,' afra replied bluntly.

'Is a response required?' 'It would be appreciated. I promised my parents to remember my manners.' Then he covered his mouth against a laugh. All those drills on courtesy and he had a v.a. system to use them on? Even Goswina wouldn't be amused by the irony.

'Thank you,' the alto voice responded.

'You're welcome,' afra said.

Then he noticed the time he'd been wasting. He dumped the remainder of the carisak's contents on the bed and, taking his kit, clean clothes and station shoes, went to the bathroom for a quick shower before his first experience of duty on Callisto.

Fortunately for his performance that day, afra could handle all Tower procedures with routine efficiency, almost without thinking about the intricacies required, but he had never worked at even half the pace required of Callisto personnel.

We are the main forwarding facility, the Rowan sent him -halfway through the hectic period. We handle more traffic -than any other Tower. You're doing fine. Don't fret. I don't think we'll wear you down today.

Huh! afra restricted comment to that one challenging monosyllable and kept right on working. It was exhilarating, to say the least, for his duties as the Rowan's second were to be sure of the orderly flow of destination placements, weights of cargo whether animate or inanimate, and special instructions from the tertiary rank.

Cargo-handlers (7s and 8s of kinetic Talent) who took travel documents from cargo pods of all sizes, single and double personnel capsules, and the various larger transit vessels, 'lifted' them into the Tower for sorting according to priority. lOs scurried about the landing field making certain all relays arrived in good condition, and always checking animate cargos. Inside the Tower, 6s and 5s assigned priorities and found destination coordinates.

Brian Ackerman made sure there were no delays in those duties and established that everything afra, in turn, passed up to the Rowan was in order, and kept the flow smooth -to the Prime.

On a busy day, and Callisto was always busy, afra, as the T-4, was also required to reduce the burden on the Prime by expediting any inanimate cargo to reserve her capability for heavier, delicate and animate transfers.

afra could gestalt with the generations, albeit without the same range and strength as the Rowan. He had always secretly felt that he had more range than he'd ever been permitted to use on Capella - if only because he felt he could. afra was also too well disciplined a Talent to be foolishly overconfident. But, working with the Rowan, he became aware of a sense of extended resources and deeper strengths which he had never experienced working with any other Talent. It was as if the Rowan added a new dimension to his Talent.

And that, my dear Afra, is exactly how it should feel between Prime and her backup, the Rowan said in between shifting two heavy freighters. If it isn't there to begin with, it won't come, not for all the wishing in the world.

That was enough to give afra a second wind for - the pace was beginning to get to him. Inhaling deeply, he carried on.

When the last drone had been spun out to its destination and the generator gauges on his board dropped down to zero, afra was too expended momentarily to move. The muscles along his back ached and he had a mild throbbing at his temples. Then he grinned to himself. He'd survived.

He hadn't made a single error - that he could think of. He felt someone standing beside him and craning his head to the right, saw the Rowan grinning at him. Lightly she touched his shoulder, just enough for him to sense a mental flavour of deep green and mintiness from her.

'We did good work today.' Then one of her arched black eyebrows lifted sardonically, 'That is, if you can keep up this sort of pace.

'Try me,' afra said, taking up the challenge. 'Just try me.

'You just bet I will,' but her grin got broader and her eyes twinkled. 'C'mon, I owe you a cup of coffee. Anyone want to go downside? We're in occlusion.' chorus of 'I do' and waving hands answered that A offer.

'Grab what you need and find a capsule,' the Rowan said. 'I won't send you down yet, afra. But plan on next full occlusion. Reidinger wants to interview you.

Oh,' when she felt him tense, 'don't worry about him.

I,' and she jerked her thumb at her chest, 'say who works in my Tower.' Lightly she climbed back up into the Tower and, although the generator gauges did not so much as flicker, afra could see the capsules arrowing away from Callisto in Earth's direction.

You've seven to catch down there, Reidinger, she said.

THEY'RE NOT SCHEDULED, was the roar from the Earth Prime.

Let your apprentices catch. My crew need the downside time.

So, how did that Capellan manage? Reidinger added and his words echoed in afra's mind, confusing the Capellan until he realized that the Rowan was backfiring the conversation. Capella would never have done that, afra thought, astonished, and held his breath for her reply.

He held up well today. I'll give him a three-month trial.

Not before I've seen him, you won't!

Sure thing, and the Rowan's tone was not only saucy but very confident.

Most of the Tower personnel disappeared when the Rowan made her transportation offer. Only Brian Ackerman remained, discussing a few matters quietly with Joe Toglia. afra continued to sit where he was.

He felt drained and even the few steps to the beverage dispenser seemed too far but he could certainly use a caffeine boost.

Then he saw one cup move under the spout, the dark liquid splash in and move aside for a second cup to be filled with sugar and milk added. As the cups made their way to his station, the Rowan came down the stairs again.

'Thanks,' he said with a wry grin of appreciation as she approached. She caught the back of a chair and, hauling it behind her, sat down beside him. He lifted his cup and she touched hers to it in the traditional fashion. 'Thanks a lot, Rowan She gave him a sideways glance. 'Couple of things we got to straighten between us right away, afra. Just let me know when you need a boost and tell me when you've foozied. I prefer to correct as soon as possible. Understand that and -we could make a good team.

afra nodded his agreement, mentally too tired to project -after all the exercise he'd had the past six hours. She continued to sit and sip at her coffee, the silence between -them comfortable. In fact, afra did not remember being so comfortable with anyone else before except with Goswina when he was a boy. And before, he added deep in his mind, Goswina went to Aitair. By the time they had finished their drinks, he felt somewhat restored. The Rowan recognized it, too, her grey eyes sympathetic.

'Take a long nap, now, afra. Let your brain idle,' she said, rising and replacing the chair. Then she left the Tower.

afra took her advice. Nor was that the only time he did so.

He was in the Tower for five weeks before Reidinger contacted him directly, though not in the bull roar he invariably used in his exchanges with the Rowan. At that, the strength of Reidinger's powerful touch direct to his mind was sufficient to dismay afra. He had never encountered such a dense mind before. Capella had been firm and strong but nothing compared to Peter Reidinger, the third of that name to be Earth Prime. The Rowan was very strong, with hints of a substance equal to Reidinger's but never displayed. But afra was now familiar enough with the Rowan to be comfortable, if still in awe.

Reidinger was different. He was the most powerful man in Federal Teleportation and Telepathic. And on his approval, no matter what the Rowan had said, depended afra's continued appointment to Callisto Tower. However, afra managed a creditable, he thought, response, calm, unflustered, and above all, mannerly. His parents would have been proud of him.

Atta boy, afra, the Rowan said when Reidinger's presence had withdrawn. He loves to dominate. Has most of FT&T scared witless saves him a lot of trouble to have instantaneous obedience but it can be inhibiting. You just carry on as you did and don't let him fluster you. Remember, and here the Rowan allowed a wicked chuckle to weave into her tone, he doesn't scare me and if I want you, I'll have you.

Tell you what, afra. Before he can bellow at you - and he will present him with one of your origamis... say a bull in full bellow!

A scarlet bull. Take the wind out of his sails.

Distract him and you'll have the upper hand.

Are you sure the upper hand is good for a lowly T4

from Capella?

The Rowan projected an even more malicious grin.

Sweet-talking words is for a woman: standing your ground is a male prerogative.

In retrospect, it was not Reidinger who awed afra in point of fact, but the sheer size of the Blundell building, surrounded by the immense cargo and passenger terminals, cradles and auxiliary structures. afra stood by the personnel capsule in which the Rowan had sent him from Callisto and gawked. TheFT&T complex was larger than the capital of Capella. Beyond it stretched the commercial and residential towers of the largest single metropolis of the Central Worlds, receding into a distance his eyes could not adequately measure.

He was, however, aware of air tinged with an unknown odour which his mind told him must be 'brine' since theFT&T complex bordered an ocean.

'afra of Callisto Station?' He whirled and saw a youth in the uniform of an FT&T apprentice, a stocky lad with oddly flecked green eyes, dark hair and a fresh complexion.

'Yes,' and he echoed the acknowledgement telepathically, testing the messenger.

The boy grinned and held up his hand in the formal greeting between Talents. 'Gollee Gren. I'm supposed to be a T-4.

'On escort duty?' afra smiled back, remembering his service in the same capacity on Capella.

'When no-one else is available,' Gollee said, not the least bit disconcerted by such duties. 'This way. You've got to clear security and that takes time.

Even when it's obvious who I am?

Gollee shrugged, his grin droll. 'Don't be offended.

They even go through the rigmarole for visiting Primes.' 'Don't lay it on too thick, Gollee. Primes don't visit.' 'Well, you know what I mean. Even T-2s get the treatment. No-one gets into the Great God Reidinger without clearance.' Gollee had gestured towards the airy shell of concrete and plasglas that formed the entrance to the huge Blundell FT&T Agency Headquarters.

It did take time to clear security, scanners, retina search, personal interviews - though it was clear they had afra's dossier on screen as he was interviewed. afra was tempted to remark that a telepathic check from any T-3 or 2

would allay any suspicions, but the attitudes of the T-8s processing him suggested he'd better not interrupt the process with an impertinence. The security guards did not have his height but outweighed him by many kilos. They were especially concerned about his origami and subjected it to so many tests that afra was alarmed that they'd ruin the little gift.

'Surely you realize that it's only folded paper? Here!' He tore a sheet from the pad on the desk and with practised skill, folded a replica. 'See?' The guards 'saw' but were palpably unimpressed with his dexterity, though Gollee was. Eventually they had to concede that it posed no threat.

Finally the security badge was grudgingly handed over.

With a mental sigh of relief, Gollee led him towards the bank of grav lifts.

Gollee punched an intricate code, his fingers flashing so fast afra's eyes could not follow nor was he able, in that instant, to read Gollee's suddenly shielded mind.

They're even stricter about that, Gollee said in an apologetic tone. I've only just been assigned to guide duty and they really do mind-burn anyone who disobeys or bends the drill.

'They would have to, of course, Prime Reidinger being so important to Central Worlds,' he added aloud and motioned for afra to step with him into the programmed shaft. 'How long have you been doing that paper-folding?

You made it look so easy.

The upward motion was unusually rapid for a grav shaft.

'Basically origami is easy. Once you get the hang of it.

'Where'd you learn? Is it a Capellan thing?' 'No, it originates from a place called Japan.

'Oh, in the Pacific Ocean somewhere.' 'So I understand.' Then, suddenly, a narrow aperture opened into which the current pulled them.

The access snapped shut behind them. Gollee grinned at afra's reaction.

'No way you can get into the Prime's quarters without the right clearance. The entire building is shielded and sealed especially this part.' 'I don't think I'd like to live like that.' 'We never will.

We're not Primes.' A second, more generous opening appeared and remained long enough for afra and Gollee to step out into the lobby which was elegantly decorated in soft greens and comfortable seating.

Fractiles were displayed on a corner screen and soft music fell pleasantly on the ear. Gollee made for the door - the least ornate of several opening on to the lobby - to his left.

'Stand square,' Gollee murmured as they reached the door which then slid into the wall. They walked across a second lobby and to the centre door in its wall. 'You're on your own from here but I'll be waiting to guide you back.

Good luck.' His expression suggested that afra needed all he could command.

afra squared his shoulders and eyed the solid wood panels and remembered the Rowan's advice. Would security have informed Prime Reidinger about a red paper bull and spoiled his gambit? The door slid open to admit him into the spacious suite occupied by Peter Reidinger.

'Come in, come in,' and the powerful mental voice was just as powerful and intimidating in its audible mode as its owner was physically impressive.

'Thought you might like this, sir,' afra said, advancing quickly toward the semi-circular desk behind which Reidinger sat. It was a case of moving swiftly or having his knees knock treacherously. He was glad that his hand didn't shake as he leaned across the wide desk and placed the delicate red bull in front of Earth Prime.

Surprised by both approach and gift, Reidinger regarded the little figure. Then he threw his head back and roared with laughter.

'A bull by all that's holy! A bull! Horns, snout and. ' With one long and surprisingly well-shaped finger, Reidinger prodded the bull to a side view, 'and balls!' He guffawed again. 'That white-haired bug-eyed Altairian loon suggest it?' 'She's not bug-eyed,' afra replied, indignant at such a description of the Rowan whom he considered rather beautiful in an unusual way. And when Reidinger regarded him in amused surprise, 'And no loon either.' The Rowan had said he must stand up to Reidinger. He wouldn't have done so for his own sake but he certainly would for hers.

Reidinger smiled enigmatically, leaned back in his conformable chair, and steepled his fingers. afra did not like the knowing way Reidinger eyed him and stiffened, tightening his shields - in case it would do him any good in the presence of this man.

'You were raised on Capella, afra Lyon,' Reidinger said, his face suddenly expressionless, his hooded eyes inscrutable. 'Which is noted for its adherence to the manners other worlds ignore. Manners which are not ignored in my Tower, I might add.' afra inclined his head at this tacit reassurance of his mental privacy.

'The Rowan did suggest a red bull,' he said then, with a slight smile, aware now that Reidinger certainly displayed bullish characteristics.

With index finger and thumb, Reidinger picked the bull up by one horn and examined it closely. 'Origami!' he said suddenly. 'I've heard of it but not actually seen examples.

Show me how you did this!' 'Paper?' Reidinger opened drawers, frowning more deeply as he discovered nothing but paper's technological replacements.

'Paper!' Suddenly pads, flowered and pastel stationery, and large sheets of transparent plastic, littered the pristine surface of Reidinger's desk. 'Pick.' Testing the various weights, afra found one that would crease well, thin enough to fold easily but not tear. He squared it off and folded one corner away from him to the top, running a finger to form the first crease. Reidinger's eyes never left his hands until he deposited a small pale blue cow beside the horned bull.

'And an udder, by all that's holy!' Reidinger slapped both hands down flat on his desk, the breeze blowing the little cow over and sending the bull backwards. Tenderly, Reidinger righted the blue cow and drew the bull back to its original position. 'Where'd you learn how?' 'The chief on a freighter that regularly cradled at Capella.

He's retired now and lives in Kyoto, Japan, in the PacI know where it is. Been there yet?' Reidinger cocked his head at afra.

'No, sir.

Reidinger widened his eyes. 'Don't you want to?' 'Yes, sir, when I I Now afra faltered. Not quite brash enough despite the apparent success of this interview to commit himself to future plans.

Reidinger leaned back again, eyeing him speculatively.

Then he gave a bark of laughter, shifting his weight so that the chair assumed an upright position.

'If you've managed to endure five weeks with that white haired,' and Reidinger grinned unrepentantly, 'grey eyed --- bird-like Altairian, I suspect you'll stay the distance.

In fact...' Then Reidinger caught himself up, cancelling that start with a flick of his fingers. He stood, a massive figure, big-boned and muscular, his eyes on a level with afra's despite the Capellan's unusual height. He extended his hand, palm upwards, across the desk to afra in a clear command for tactile contact.

It was most unusual but afra responded without hesitation though he could not stifle his gasp at the shock of rippling power and how much Reidinger learned of him in that split second's contact.

My little loon's lonely in her Tower, afra Lyon of Capella And Reidinger's tone was as gentle as the hint in the words.

afra was overcome with confusion. None of the exhaustive homilies on etiquette from his family covered this contingency.

'Be her friend, too, afra,' Reidinger added in a brisk, business-like tone as if he were recommending a particular brand of technology so that afra almost wondered if he'd mistaken that quick mental message. 'Now, get out of here and let me get back to work.' He settled back into his chair and swung it to the consoles that were ranked behind his desk. 'Gren's to take you into the city,' he added without looking around. 'You won't survive comfortably on Callisto with a bed, two sagging chairs and a battered table. Spend some of the money FT&T's paying you on yourself for a change.' Respectfully, afra bowed and, turning around, left the room. In the lobby, Gren sprang to his feet, his whole body expressing concern and interest. His face broke into a smile.

'You survived?' 'The bull did it!' Gren's smile broadened.

'Clever that. Ooops.

In alarm, afra watched as Gren's eyes suddenly crossed and, as suddenly, refocused. Gren shook his head and swallowed. 'I wish he wouldn't do that to me,' but then he looked at afra and his grin returned. 'I'm under orders, no less, to take you anywhere in the city you want to go.' He winked and afra caught a tinge of sheer sensuality from Gren which made him blink. Gren was his age but had obviously not had the strictures of Method to inhibit physical experiences. 'You've got a two-day leave of absence. So,' and he gave an impudent bow, 'what's your pleasure, T-4 afra?' 'Mercantile, I think,' afra said, gratefully seizing that opportunity. 'And something to eat.' 'Stomach's settled, huh?' Gollee's knowing look was sympathetic.

They retraced their way, Gollee informing afra that his security clearance was valid for his lifetime. Gollee took him to the T- 10 clerk who stored such badges and then down to the ground floor where he ordered transport for them.

afra's first contact with the metropolis remained a series of brilliant impressions: the staggering choice available in the furniture showrooms (he surprised himself by choosing simple things, reminiscent of homely Capellan counterparts), linens in plain shades, rugs in geometric designs, rather plebeian lamps (from the look on Gollee's face) and two lovely Asian vases filled with flowers held in stasis forever at their peak, book tapes by the gross (titles he'd only heard of) and two paintings, both antique but pleasing to him. (Gollee tried to steer him towards modern artists but afra found them too frantic in design, material and colour.) In clothing, he allowed Gollee to guide him, for the youth's own dress was quietly elegant and well made.

For someone who had never had more than three tower jump suits and one good outfit, afra enjoyed buying apparel that subtly diminished his alien complexion and accentuated his broad shoulders and erect carriage while imparting a stylish bulk to his lean frame. He liked the look of some of the trendy boots and had a pair fashioned, while he and Gollee watched, in the size, colour and style of his choice.

When Gollee realized that this was a major shopping effort, he called theFT&T cargomaster and arranged for a pod and cradle number to which all afra's purchases could be sent, and transported back to Callisto on the next shipment, or whenever afra came to the end of his credit.

Then, clad in a new outfit of dark green, soft leatherene boots and a fashionable tunic and trouser combination, afra invited Gollee to take him to a mid-range eating place where they would replenish lost energy.

'I know just the place,' Gollee announced, with another of his reckless winks. Shortly they were seated at a table in an eating house with a pleasant ambience. There was soft music, subdued lighting, excellent appointments and a discreet menu which appeared in the top of their table as soon as they were seated.

The selection was literally other-worldly for it listed dishes from every one of the Central Worlds. Gollee appeared to be far more sophisticated than his years for he rattled off a description of items which afra had never heard of. afra tried not to let his ignorance or confusion show. Then Gren held up a hand to beckon an attendant.

As the man came in answer to the summons, Gren looked earnestly at afra.

'I know some of the specialties of this restaurant that I think you might like.' 'We-ell.' Gren's self-assurance and the good natured way in which he had steered afra throughout the day easily convinced afra to accede. He gave a rueful smile.

'I haven't had much experience with off-world dining.

The waiter regarded afra in surprise while Gollee's encouraging smile became very worldly indeed.

'One man's homeworld is another's tourist spot. My friend is in from Capella. How about serving us a platter of dainties that'd tempt him to appreciate Terran cuisine?' The attendant seemed reluctant. 'Is Luciano on today?' 'Luciano?' That did impress the man.

'The very same.' Gollee nodded pleasantly, as if discussing menus with Luciano was a habit. 'Would you tell him that the G-man is showing a friend of his boss about this also and we need to consult.' The waiter raised his eyebrows. 'G-man? I've heard about you.' He gave a hitch to the white apron tied about his loins. 'I'll tell him you're in again.' Luciano himself appeared between the platter of dainties and the soup. He gave afra a friendly nod as Gollee introduced him.

At that moment, afra had a mouthful of an unexpectedly peppery savoury and just caught himself resorting to telepathy to answer. He flapped his hands, first indicating his busy mouth and then giving the concerned chef the 'OK' sign 'Spicy? Not spicy enough? Too spicy?' Luciano asked with professional concern.

'Too spicy, I'd say,' Gollee suggested with a laugh. 'I'm accustomed to your brand of seasoning but afra must think he's being poisoned. Look at his face and how his eyes are watering.' The arch look on Luciano's face startled afra so much that he ventured to splutter around his mouthful: 'No! No!

'itS great. I like... spices.

Luciano was instantly mollified. 'Ah, a man with educated tastes.' 'Not only that, Luciano,' Gren said, grinning with sheer malice, 'he got the al' man by the balls and had him laughing.' Gren shot the astounded afra a conspiratorial wink, 'And that's no bull, my friend.' 'You did that?' Clearly afra had ascended ranks in Luciano's estimation. 'To the great man?' And the fiery Italian gestured in the direction of the distant Blundell complex.

afra washed the rest of his mouthful down with water -so that he could remedy this slightly skewed version of the morning's business.

'It was just a short interview ' he began.

'With Prime Reidinger, which he survived unscathed,' Gren said, nodding his head up and down, his eyes wide with admiration. 'afra made him a gift and got him to laugh.' 'The great man laughed?' Luciano awarded afra a respectful glance.

'And,' Gollee paused significantly, 'Reidinger immediately gave him a two-day leave. I'm to see this tourist doesn't get into trouble his first time on Earth.' 'Ah, how wise of you to bring him here to eat, Gollee,' Luciano said, beaming with approval. 'And you have a formidable guide, afra,' he said, meaning to reassure, 'for this one knows the very best places to go for whatever pleasures you might desire.' Luciano winked, setting one thick index finger to the side of his nose. 'You're -in the best hands with this one. Have no fear. No worries. Gollee will see you truly enjoy your first visit to this al' Earth.' afra was startled, not only by the Italian's remark but also by the underlying nuances which were exceedingly sensual.

'You bet,' Gollee responded, grinning with an anticipation which afra sensed was as sensual as Luciano's.

'Best way ever devised by the kindly gods to relieve the pressures to which man' - and it didn't take much Talent for afra to guess that Gollee made regular use of that relief -'is exposed. What with one thing and another, afra's had a tense and pressured day. Don't you worry, afra. I know just the place.' 'And you will need to eat properly to enjoy yourself to the fullest,' Luciano said, rubbing his hands together briskly.

He extended one towards afra politely in reassurance. 'I will make sure that your energy level is sufficient to sustain you.' In order to mask his agitation, afra hastily bent over the appetizer platter, pretending to concentrate on his next selection. He certainly couldn't let Gollee see how much the innuendoes had disturbed him. He knew that Terran customs concerning sexual relations were considerably more relaxed than Capella's but to discuss such a topic over a meal, a meal which was going to be designed to stimulate and support the activity, was a shock. Yet both Gollee and Luciano seemed to consider it the normal conclusion to a stressful day.

'And I have a very special wine 'We're underage,' afra protested feebly.

'Of course, I know,' and Luciano spread his arms in a gesture of complete understanding. 'We have a very good stock of grape juice.' And he cocked a wink at Gollee who grinned broadly back at him.

When the 'grape juice' was presented - in ordinary water glasses afra realized that it was unlike any fruit juice he had ever tasted, filling his mouth with a rich tartness and expanding in the most pleasant way to the back of his throat and into his stomach. But, as he had also never tasted wine, he was unaware of what had actually been served.

Gradually, as the meal progressed and he and Gollee ate through the various delicious portions presented to them, he noticed that he was visibly relaxing. And, where at first the thought of losing his virginity had troubled his conscience, he began to see that if both Gollee, who was his age, and Luciano who was quite mature, considered a visit to a pleasure house an appropriate part of the day's conviviality, he ought not - out of courtesy - object to his host's plans for him. Then, too, Reidinger had assigned Gollee as his guide and Gollee had mentioned that he often did escort visitors. Surely it would be churlish of afra to affect prudery. afra flushed suddenly at the memory of Reidinger's 'pathed comment. Surely... He put that thought sternly from him. Perhaps it would be the better part of discretion to relieve his tensions here on Earth so that he could return to Callisto with no lingering stress.

So, when the meal was finished and the last glass of grape juice drained, afra had no compunctions about falling in with the next item on Gollee's hospitable and helpful agenda. When afra's guide led him to a large, well-maintained building in a discreetly park-like suburb, he was no longer the least bit apprehensive. The ambience of the interior was welcoming and Gollee was greeted warmly, afra as well. He didn't even cavil when asked to undergo the obligatory physical scan and permitted a blood sample to be taken from his earlobe. He didn't even blush when required to place his ID disk in the processing slot so that his last anti-fertility jab could be noted. But then, Gollee was chatting away with the proprietor during these preliminaries so afra could hardly protest a routine which was not at all intrusive, but mutually protective.

The choosing of a partner was also mutual, not that afra noticed, but he was rather surprised when five attractive women approached him, smiling agreeably, and conversation was initiated. When the Coonie wandered into the lounge and right up to afra, he was charmed.

'This can't be a barque cat!' he exclaimed.

'No, indeed, it can't,' laughed the tallest of the five girls who wore dark curly hair in a close crop to her well-shaped skull. She had unusually pale blue eyes which fascinated afra for he'd never seen the like. 'This is a Coonie cat: the nearest we surface dwellers have to barquies. They're not quite as intelligent,' at which point the Coonie growled a protest, delighting afra, 'but they've qualities of their own.

Amos, this is afra. afra, meet Amos.' To the Capellan's surprise, the Coonie immediately jumped in his lap and, standing up on his hind legs, put his paws on afra's jaw and sniffed his mouth.

'You've made a friend!' the girl said, genuinely impressed. 'Amos has standards.' afra wasn't certain how to react until he saw the approval in Gollee's expression. And when Amos jumped down again and wandered out of the room, Kama of the pale blue eyes, moved just close enough to afra so that their legs touched.

Somehow there was a transition from the pleasant lounge and verbal sparring with Kama seated so enticingly close, to a private room. When it became apparent to her that afra wasn't at all sure how to proceed once they were alone, she became quite supportive.

'I'm your first? Well, the important thing is to do what comes naturally,' she said, gently massaging the tense muscles along his shoulders. 'My first time was special for me. I could do no less for you, especially,' she added with a throaty chuckle, 'when Amos approved of you.' afra's nerves made the first attempt more of a disaster than a release. Kama gave him the most tender of smiles and suggested that they just relax side by side and become more accustomed to each other.

She also kept running her hands about his body with feathery delicate touches so that very shortly he was ready to make a second attempt.

Not only was that eminently successful for both of them but afra was totally aware that her ecstasy was as genuine as his. That spurred him on to further efforts with Kama impressed by his stamina as well as his ingenuity.

When they woke a languorous time later with the room still dark, afra shyly asked if her cooperation was limited by time or deed.

'Not with you, my dear,' Kama replied and energetically pulled him to her, 'not ever with you!' When he returned to Callisto, he was both refreshed and exhausted, and stumbled into his quarters, falling over the packages that littered the lounge, and even the bedroom.

The orrery warned him he had only five hours before he was on duty again. He told himself to wake up in four so he could wash and find something more appropriate than the glad rags he shucked any which way as he made for his bed. He had also shucked a great many inhibitions though it actually took some time for him to determine which ones.

During that work period, he discovered just what a temper the Rowan had. He was so aghast at a PRIME in a tantrum that he was beyond surprise. Familiarity with Callisto Tower allowed him to react automatically to the minor crisis, soothing the Rowan and flicking the required placement into her lap in the Tower. Then he initiated the defence he had effectively used to blot boredom and proceeded with the transfers in his usual calm and imperturbable fashion.

Only when the Tower closed down hours later, did he realize that everyone else's nerves were frazzled.

'How do you do that, afra?' Brian asked him when the Rowan had stormed off to her own quarters, raw emotions swirling after her.

'Do what?' afra asked, looking up from the bird he was folding.

His hands and fingers were as deft as usual.

'Ignore her when she's broadcasting like that?' afra looked up with a grin. 'It certainly puts us on our toes.' There was no way he would admit that he had been stunned by her temperamental display. He had also been more fascinated than disturbed by it.

Brian gulped. 'Is that why she does it?' afra shrugged, opening the little blue bird's wings.

'She's the Prime. She can do what she pleases.

Brian frowned. 'She always does,' he said sourly, and i went back to sort out the mess of flimsies, pencil files and wayflippies that littered his desk. 'At least it was all cargo.' Busy with unpacking his new possessions, afra missed the first tentative knock on the door to his quarters. But a mental presence then impinged on his awareness so he heard the second rap.

'Come,' he called out, 'lifting' two cartons away from the door so that it could swing open.

It did, slowly, and he was astonished to see the Rowan peeking around the door, as if unsure of her welcome.

'Come in, come in,' he said, 'whisking' wrappings and styro packing pellets into an empty box and closing its flaps.

The Rowan slid in and closed the door behind her, regarding him with grey eyes wide and worried.

'What's wrong?' Her colour was wrong and her manner a dramatic contrast from the virago who had stormed out of the Tower a scant hour past.

'I want to apologize to you, afra,' she said in a muted voice.

'She's a lonely lonely girl.' afra quickly hid this recall of Reidinger's unvoiced assessment.

'Because I can take downside leave and you can't?' He couldn't feel her reading him nor would he breach Talent ethics by attempting to read her - in a remorseful mood or not.

'I think that was at the bottom of it,' she said and sighed deeply as she sank into one of the huge lounge pillows that he had just unpacked. Then she shook her head savagely: 'No, it wasn't. I must be honest with you if we're to continue as a viable team.' She locked her grey eyes on his yellow gaze. 'You've lost a certain tension. I can't.' She held up her hand when he opened his mouth. 'Reidinger's approved of you, you know.' 'I didn't.' She gave a little shrug that was more a twist of her shoulders than a lift. 'You wouldn't have been returned here if he hadn't.' 'I thought Primes made their own choices.

.. and afra grinned at her.

She managed a weak smile but her body lost much of its tension.

'I didn't even have to argue with him.' 'He liked the bull!' There was a genuine smile on the Rowan's narrow face now. She craned her neck up to look at him and he courteously dropped to a sitting position on the new table he had assembled.

'He liked the touch of square balls and that, she pointed her finger at him, 'was your idea!' 'But it was your idea to distract him with an origami.' Her grin broadened. 'But you still had to take the initiative and you did.' afra cocked his head at her. 'Were you listening?' Eyes wide with denial, she shook her head vigorously, her loose and slightly damp hair clinging to her cheek until she pulled it away and tossed the strands back. 'Not me.

I suppose if I really needed to, I could get into Reidinger's lair. But I would certainly have to have a very good excuse.

I see you put your downtime to good use,' she added, changing the subject as she looked about her with interest in his purchases.

afra managed to control a rush of blood to his face, thinking of how he had spent some of that time. 'Yes, well,' and he 'lifted' over an as yet unopened parcel, 'I didn't bring much with me, you know 'I do 'And I seem to have all kinds of allowances for the transfer so...' He used his strong hands to fracture the seal and brought out the lamp, crafted like one of his origami herons in a delicate ceramic. 'I couldn't resist this...' He held it up and she responded with generous compliments.

'What else did you get? Besides' - and her smile was mischievous -'reams of origami papers?' She helped him unpack the rest of his purchases and approved of the disposition of furniture and furnishings.

'Would you care for something to drink or eat?' he asked her, finally recognizing the onset of hunger and thirst in himself now that the day's demands had eased.

'No, not tonight, I think, afra. If you would be kind enough to join me tomorrow evening, I would be glad of your company.' She threw back her head, making eye contact. 'I'm a good cook.' The Rowan was subdued the next morning but her work was steady and her manner much improved over the day before. Still, by the end of the shift, afra steeled himself against the Rowan reneging on dinner.

He was positively startled when she asked: 'Is six too early?' afra shook his head. 'No, not at all.' His eyes lit appreciatively.

'Can I bring anything?' The Rowan gave him a deep smile. 'Some origami paper, as I know I won't be robbing you.' With a wad of various colours and sizes of paper, afra paused nervously outside her quarters.

He took a deep breath and pressed his hand against the door plate.

Come, the Rowan said and the door slid open.

afra took one step inside and went no further as he took in the Rowan's spacious quarters. He had been more than pleased with his rooms but this - this was palatial!

Of course, she was a Prime and less than this sort of luxury would have been insulting. Nevertheless, his eye was drawn here and there by the clever disposition of sculpture, paintings and the style of the furnishings. She had simple but extremely elegant taste.

And, judging by the subtle aroma that drifted across the lounge area, that extended to her cooking. He took a deep breath.

'Smells great!' 'Tantalizing, huh?' the Rowan called, ducking to peer at him from the kitchen hatch. 'It ought to taste even better than it smells,' she added and beckoned him to join her.

She had three pots simmering on the hob. She pulled a spoonful from one and turned towards afra.

'Taste?' afra self-consciously bent down to sip from the proffered spoon. Mischievously the Rowan drew the spoon back, slowly enough that afra at first didn't catch on to her ploy. He made to grab her wrist but pulled back, shocking that he would ever accidentally touch a Talent, especially a Prime, without invitation.

The Rowan caught both look and feeling. 'So serious!' she noted sadly. 'Do young Capellans ever have fun?' afra felt his cheeks redden as memory sprung unbidden. The Rowan's smile fell and she forced the spoon into his hand.

'I've never done it before, Rowan,' afra blurted out in apology, both for his dalliance and the broadcast of it in her company. 'I - it...' he struggled for composure, 'I mean, I had dinner with Gollee Gren, he's a T-4, my age. They seemed, I mean - they acted as if that's what everyone does on Earth. Gollee - Luciano - and I really did feel stressful. I do feel much less taut today. I - I hope I worked well-' A suddenly magical smile pulled at the Rowan's lips. 'I shall also hope you performed well last night.' Her smile deepened as he gasped in shock at her reply. 'Well, I hope so for your sake, Afra.

And hers.' She turned back to the stove and stirred one pot vigorously. 'First times are special.' She cocked her head at him. 'I was eighteen and he was special, too.' With an abrupt frick of her hand, she turned off the heat and began ladling the food into serving bowls. She gestured to Afra to take two and led the way to the dining room with the other two.

Seated, she explained the dishes. 'Sort of a smorgasbord of Chinese food - ginger beef, chicken cashew, kung pao chicken and-' she crinkled her nose at the last dish, finishing conspiratorily, '-something frozen from the BX.' 'And you did this since the generators shut down,' Afra protested, amazed that a Prime would go to such effort for a T-4.

The Rowan dismissed that consideration with a wave.

'Minutes! Lusena...' Her voice trailed off 'A friend?' Afra asked to end the uneasy silence that filled the room.

'The only mother I remember,' the Rowan replied. She tipped her head in a shrug. 'And more than a mother.

Have you ever lost someone close to you?' Afra shook his head, wishing for something to divert her sad shift of mood. 'No. But I cried for nights when my sister-' He broke off too late and regarded the Rowan sheepishly. 'I was only six and she and I always enjoyed a special rapport. I forgave you taking her from me when she said that you'd save a place for me.' The Rowan grinned. 'Goswina called up the image of such a charming little boy. And she was so anxious not to sully family honour because we both knew we could not work together. I did sense that your family would have been so pleased had we come to terms.' Her grin turned mischievous again. 'I'd always wanted a little brother. You seemed perfect for the role.' 'Green skin notwithstanding?' Rowan laughed. 'Skin's only the outer layer, Afra.' She reached up to ruffle his hair. Caught off guard by such an intimate gesture, Afra nearly ducked away but then submitted meekly to the fondling: quite different to Kama's. 'Sorry to maul you about, Afra. I realize that Capellans are too Methody to indulge but I don't think you're as Methody as you were.' She cocked a knowing eyebrow at him and he managed to suppress a blush, if only to thwart her intention. 'Rebellious yet collected, controlled, studious, clever-fingered, quick-minded, slyly humorous, openly amusing. The many faceted Afra.' Abruptly she altered mood again. 'I'm glad that Goswina mentioned you. We work well together.' Then she compressed her lips, scowling until he looked at her, wondering what he had done wrong. Her grey eyes pierced him.

'Afra, mostly I need a friend.' She preempted his hasty assurances. 'I can't leave Callisto. I can never conduct my own search for a mate. I have to wait to see what Reidinger finds to send me.' She grimaced, quite distorting her beauty. Then, as she flicked her long silver hair to her back, she added, 'That I have to accept as part and parcel of being a Prime but I have to have one friend.' She regarded him steadily.

Afra had never experienced such an onslaught of emotions before.

His face went numb and his mind raced in the tightest possible confused circles, hoping she wouldn't probe at such a delicate moment.

The Rowan was offering a deeper relationship than any he had ever had with another human being, even with Goswina. Less than Reidinger had hinted at but, for many reasons, more than Afra had any right to expect. A Prime was begging him to drop the careful choreography of acquaintance in the hopes of the most miraculous of friendships.

Slowly, dropping his mental shields, Afra extended his hand to her, palm up. The Rowan looked at it, catching her breath and appearing for a long moment as if she would retreat further into herself. Impulsively Afra grabbed her hand. She jerked at the touch, then made her fingers unclench.

What would you have me do, my friend? Afra asked across this tactile bonding, tighter than mere telepathy. Slowly the Rowan relaxed and slowly her marvellous smile lit her face to beauty.

Afra made his bow deep and respectful. He doubted she ever made amends to any of the other Tower personnel.

A Prime and the second in command of a Tower needed to cultivate their rapport - a rapport which must develop and intensify. To what degree? Afra wondered, once again recalling Reidinger's remark. Was that behind the Rowan's apologetic behaviour? In the seconds it took to complete the bow, Afra decided it would be very unwise to anticipate. The Rowan was a lonely person but not necessarily lonely for him, in spite of what Reidinger tacitly suggested.

Over the next few years, by a serendipity Afra never quite understood, the relationship between the Rowan and himself deepened but never in quite the direction Reidinger would have preferred. Their professional rapport was shortly so fine-tuned that even the other Tower staff knew that Afra was the aide she had been searching for.

On the emotional level, Afra became increasingly able to gauge the Rowan's moods and, if necessary, would warn the Tower personnel to slap up their shields and endure.

He could sometimes turn her state with an adroit pressure of positive reassurance. Sometimes he couldn't and the tension in the Tower would become thick enough to cut. Once or twice, when he felt she had gone beyond the bounds of permissible emotional display, he'd reprimand her, in kindly tone, heavy with surprise at her lack of control: though he hated to borrow any of his parents' attitudes.

On those few occasions when he did reprimand her, her turbulence would generally abate to a tolerable fury.

As stationmaster, Brian Ackerman suffered more than anyone else.

When he threatened to quit, Afra would appeal to Reidinger. Of course, Afra never 'heard' what Earth Prime said to the Rowan but she would be reasonably docile for the next week or so.

Callisto was, in many ways, far more difficult a Tower than any other, including Earth's. So there was greater pressure on its Prime and Tower staff. Some lower T ratings weren't sufficiently flexible and were replaced but gradually, over the next few years, a balance was achieved and maintained. Afra also suggested a roster of temporary replacements when some key personnel reached an overload point. As a T-4 in gestalt with the station's generators he was able to, and did, send people downside for a few days' relief though, generally, the Rowan would oblige even if she was in a bad mood.

Since Afra could 'port himself with an assist from the station's generators, he availed himself of those periodic longer occlusions when great Jupiter, or several of the smaller moons, made traffic in or out of Callisto impossible. That was when he learned more of the planet of his ancestors.

The first visit he made, however, was to Damitcha in his forest retreat. Though the old chief was genuinely delighted to see his young friend, his mind wandered and, even during the brief stay, Damitcha became confused, thinking he was in Capella Port, or Betelgeuse, and wondering how Afra came to be so far from his home system.

More frequently, Afra accepted Gollee Gren's company on tours of the pleasure houses that abounded in the immense and sprawling capital of Central Worlds. These excursions were both relief and tantalizing for Afra. He met many lovely women, skilled and innocent, but none of them could hold his interest very long. He returned most often to the calm and understanding Kama - even if she teased him that he came more to dally with Amos, the Coonie, than with her. But she knew that he found solace in her company and she would arrange her time so that they could spend days together if he asked.

Back at the station he and the Rowan would engage in elaborate games, sometimes play-fighting with all the ferocity of mates.

Sometimes, when the mood threatened to turn intimate, the Rowan would break away, hiding her head from the hurt she had imposed upon him.

Afra's stern Methody upbringing helped him to school his expressions and turn his words to safer stances.

Their relationship evolved into something approaching elder sister-little brother but with an intimacy such blood affiliations could not attain. Afra, for his part, found it easier to accept that role than the young lover of an older woman. The Rowan used her greater age on him unmercifully until the two finally grew tired of it, dropping the petty bickering for the silence of dear companions.

Perhaps following the dictum that familiarity breeds contempt, the Rowan took increasingly to spending most of the station down-time in his company. Afra, for his part began to accept the gender differences between them in an attempt to aid him in his dealings with his less cerebral relationships. If Kama guessed, she never mentioned it.

Nor did the Rowan ever seek to find out more about Afra's 'downside' friend.

That consideration only underscored Afra's comprehension of the Rowan's loneliness which tore at him viciously, sometimes at the expense of his seeking out Kama. His deep compassion for the Rowan constantly teetered on the verge of offering to provide her physical as well as mental comfort. He fought within himself over the fear that by not providing her with a physical bond he was denying her the lover she so desperately wanted. But he feared more the consequences of his being wrong: of robbing the Rowan of the only person to whom she could spill her soul in an attempt to provide her with someone with whom she could share her life. And, deep within himself, Afra feared that perhaps she would accept; for he did not want to be the youngster in his love, he desired to be the consoler, the anchor for a young spirit blown by the winds of life.

But, as her loneliness manifested itself more frequently, Afra began to hope that she might turn to him. Certainly he was the most likely candidate in the galaxy, even if he 7' knew that she could not requite his abiding love for her.

Unconsciously, he sought alternative solutions to the Rowan's agoraphobia, a problem that seemed to affect all Prime Talents, of being unable to teleport without violent reactions. After her first space voyage, the Rowan had arrived at Callisto Station in a near catatonic state.

While Afra knew that Callisto, also, had had the same violent reaction to space travel, he wondered if there might not be a cure, especially for one as young as the Rowan was. If, he reasoned, the Rowan could escape Callisto Station and 'bring Mohammed to the Mountain' she would at least have the opportunity to dabble without it being immediately known to all her fellow workers. So he suggested that she try to overcome her space phobia by making small ventures off the surface of Callisto in a special capsule, cushioned against any movement and opaqued from any source of exterior light or view. With his mind to minimize the act of 'portation, the Rowan tried to neutralize her agoraphobia. Gradually, she was able to endure being 'ported beyond Callisto for short periods.

Afra did not dare force the exercises.

Then the eighth planet of hot Deneb, bombarded by an alien task force, made contact with Callisto for desperately needed medical personnel to cope with the plagues spurted from space at the colonial planet. And the mind that made contact was male, young, powerful and unattached.

When the Rowan proposed a mind-merge to defeat the invaders in Deneb's skies, Afra was both elated and wary.

But the mind-merge with Jeff Raven, successful as it was in destroying the intruders, was not sufficient to induce the Rowan to leave Callisto and join this potent young male on his home planet. Her despair hit a paralysing nadir so deep that Afra, and Brian, feared for her sanity.

Afra's rage on learning that Reidinger wanted to use the affair as a way of breaking the Rowan's phobia surprised everyone in its intensity. Reidinger in particular had come to consider the young Capellan of a placid temperament.

While he put his anger on hold with the appearance of the very distraught Rowan, he intended to do battle again with Reidinger as soon as possible, after all, he had been handling the situation quite adequately, damn it!

The day was draining, more from the tragic air of the Rowan than the efforts of moving cargo. At the end of it, as Afra considered how best to help his Prime, a young man in plain travel gear arrived in the control room.

'You come up in that last shuttle?' Ackerman asked the stranger politely. Afra lost the answer as he scrutinized the man. He was tired but carried himself with a composed air marred only by a slight wistfulness and a greater nervousness.

'Hey, Afra, want you to meet Jeff Raven.' Ackerman's voice called him back to awareness. Raven, Afra noted to himself. Deneb, another part responded coolly. Deneb here? Afra had trouble believing it: Primes did not travel.

Jeff Raven's eyes met his.

'Hello,' Afra murmured, rueful that his introspection had betrayed him.

'Hello,' Raven returned, his grin altering imperceptibly.

Afra kept his expression fixed but he knew. He flicked his gaze away, unsure of his continued control.

What the hell is happening down there? asked the Rowan with a tinge of her familiar irritation. Why... ?

And then, in violation of all her own rules, she was there, standing in the middle of the room. She flicked a quick glance to Afra who jerked his head in the direction of Jeff Raven.

Deneb stepped to her side and gently touched her hand.

'Reidinger said you needed me.' Reidinger said you needed me, the words rang through Afra's mind like bells. He watched closely as the Rowan reacted. Well inside his shields, half-ecstatic, half-destroyed, Afra thought: Give her the care she needs! Give her what she will not take from me!

And then the two Talents left, making their way up the stairs to the Rowan's once lonely Tower. Afra broke the awed silence of the other station crew by grabbing a cake from the box in Ackerman's motionless hand.

Eyes watering with the conflicting emotions that tore at him, Afra called out: 'Not that that pair needs much of our help, people, but we can add a certain flourish and speed things up!' Over the next few days Afra spent his free time adjusting to the fact that he no longer needed to worry or hope that the Rowan might one day come to him for more than verbal comfort. Then he recognized, with growing anxiety, that despite all his hopes and fears the Rowan was stuck in a terrible limbo: loving but unable to be in the arms of her lover. Jeff Raven had shown that Prime Talents could cross the void of space without the terrible disorientation that Siglen's travel trauma had imposed on all her charges but the Rowan still had to conquer that imposition in herself.

Afra was delighted, if exhausted, when the Rowan awoke him early one morning to demand his aid in overcoming the neurosis. As much as he wanted to help her immediately, he recommended that she rest first and start the new attempt the next morning.

With two hours before Callisto cleared Jupiter's shadow and the station could begin its workday, Afra gently nudged the Rowan's capsule out, using his gestalt with the station generators to push it slowly into a Mars orbit.

Afra was delighted when he heard the Rowan's sour comment.

I can't just sit here in the cradle You're not, you know, he told her. You're hovering near Deimos.

She panicked and Reidinger screamed at him but it was worth it.

Afra was sure that in time he could help her break her fear for he perversely determined that, now she had found her mind-mate, she was going to be free to be with him on Deneb.

When Afra brought her capsule back to the station and palmed open its door, he took her hand and pumped her energy levels back up. He was careful to get his shields back up before she could read him: not just because he did not want her to know his plans but also because he still was not completely sure of his emotions.

You don't need to treat this as so commonplace an occurrence, you know, she said with some asperity Why not? It should be! He returned with a smug grin.

She pinched him. Yaw! He sidled away from her.

His pleasure was short-lived, however. The next morning, when the Rowan thought of going to Earth, he balked.

'We've got some pretty heavy stuff to shift,' he warned her. But she glared at him and Afra found himself wondering if he could endure her during the necessary adjustment period. The Rowan told the staff they could prepare for the day's work without him or her, then glared at him.

'I want to go back to Deimos again. Now!' 'As you wish.' Afra gave in gracefully. Gently he pushed her back out close to Mars' largest moon.

Is Earth visible from this position? she asked him.

He rotated the capsule and told her how to use the controls to get a magnified view of Earth and its Moon.

But the blackness was too much for her and, the moment he caught the explosion of fear, he yanked her back.

Easy, Rowan! he said, soothingly. But her reactions were so strong that they disturbed Jeff Raven way out on Deneb.

Scared me half to death, you did! Raven told her.

Jeff, Afra replied with some fear of reproach, she's all right.

Afra added to the strength of his response by initiating a metamorphic massage to the Rowan to reduce her tension. Inwardly he was angered: what was blocking her so much? Was he trying to inhibit her? Was he rushing her in order to threaten her resolve? Afra detested even the thought that such petty jealousies could lurk in his heart.

I want her to be happy, he told himself sternly. I will be happier if the Rowan is happy.

The day passed uneasily, with Afra walking a tightrope for fear of setting the Rowan off. But she worked more like an automaton, neither jocular nor snappish. They were just closing down the board for the day when an emergency cargo signal came through.

Some Fleet nerd to judge by the ID -- Brian Ackerman started sourly. Silence spread among the rest of the crew until Afra turned to the personal capsule. Jeff Raven stepped out, tossed everyone a jolly salute and charged up the Rowan's Tower two steps at a time.

'There's nothing on this list we can't handle ourselves!' Afra exclaimed, thrusting the cargo manifest back into Ackerman's outstretched hand. 'Get those generators back on line!' 'But, Afra-' Ackerman began pleadingly.

'No buts!' Afra's yellow eyes burned hot. 'We will not disturb them.' He gestured peremptorily around the control room. 'Have Mauli and Mick report here, they've worked with me before.' 'Yes, but only when the Rowan was in gestalt, too,' Ackerman complained.

Don't task me, Brian, Afra snapped back, his normal aplomb shaken enough that he 'pathed. He jerked his head in silent apology, adding aloud: 'We owe them this much.' Ackerman sighed deeply, nodded in agreement. He turned to the others standing around the control room.

'You heard the man, people! We've got work to do!' He grinned conspiratorially at the tall Capellan.

'Just don't try to resign because I'm bullying you!' Afra teased, waggling a finger.

'Wouldn't dream of it!' Brian responded heartily. 'Now, here's the first load 'That's the last load,' Brian said, handing the datasheets to the Capellan. 'Afra? The last load.' 'Oh? Yeah,' Afra looked up wanly, limply taking the sheets. Beyond him, Mauli and Mick reeled slightly in their seats. He walked over to them slowly.

'Mauli? Mick?' He looked down at them. 'Last one.' The twins slowly rose to their feet, swaying. Afra grabbed their hands, apologizing.

'Tactile contact will make it easier.

Fortunately it was a small cargo lighter. Afra suspected that Brian had saved it especially. With a great effort the three heaved the empty ship back to Earth orbit.

Hey! Watch it! Reidinger swore, steadying the tumbling ship as it popped into orbit just above the Earth's atmosphere. Any closer and you would have drenched Sri Lanka!

Afra ignored the comment, as they had done throughout the day in their contacts with Earth Prime. The excuse given out was that the Rowan was furious with Reidinger and not talking to him. The Rowan had never done that before but Afra was sure she would be amused by the ruse when he had a chance to explain it later.

'Afra-' -we can't do this again,' Mauli and Mick told them in their twin-speak.

Afra gave them a long searching look before he nodded rueful acceptance.

'We've got a passenger liner due through tomorrow, anyway, Ackerman confided, the next day's cargo manifest on his screen.

'You're beat, I'll tell the Rowan in the morning.

Afra shook his head. 'No, I will.' He looked around the control room at the exhausted crew. 'Thank you.' Then he went around the room, shaking the hands or patting the shoulder of each and every person.

'And please thank those outside who helped us today. I'm sure the Rowan will thank you, too 'They didn't do it for her,' Brian muttered under his breath. Afra did not hear him.

Afra knocked louder on the Rowan's door in his fourth attempt to rouse the pair the next morning. He had slept soundly but had woken quite early, nervously considering how to admit his weakness to the Rowan when Callisto Station had to go to work. There was that large passenger liner which, no way, could he and the twins 'port. He tried through the commsystem to rouse them again. No luck.

For a long time Afra stood at the door, fists clenched, breathing deeply as he considered the impropriety of the next logical act.

Finally, as softly as he could, he 'pathed to the two forms inside.

I do beg your pardons!

A series of emotions and feelings washed over him: restfulness, satiation Rowan! You're broadcasting -- He caught snippets of her rousing Jeff, his tired response as he told her it was his day off and her gentle admonition that yesterday had been his day off.

She's right! Afra called desperately, adding by way of caution, Reidinger doesn't know you're here Why not? was Jeff s half-amused response.

He's not... Afra faltered, better tell them later. He's in a very touchy mood. As Afra expected, the Rowan, always very diligent, was ready to get to work but, to his surprise, Jeff held her back, all ready to rebel for another day off.

With all respect, Rowan, Raven, he remarked, falling back on the courtesy his parents had drilled into him, we managed well enough yesterday but there's a passenger carrier coming in that requires the Rowan's gentle touch.

Even that polite statement was received rebelliously by Jeff Raven who insisted on a half-hour hold while he and the Rowan broke their fast. When they'd eaten, they didn't exactly race to the Tower where, reluctantly, he returned to his responsibilities on Deneb. Afra's mood was mixed as he tried to be understanding of their need for each other and control his resentment of being unthinkingly abused.

But his silent dedication and that of the rest of the staff were well repaid in the Rowan's gentle smile, easy manner and efficient work throughout the week. Afra was disconcerted that he had to pace himself and the others gingerly to allow them to rebuild the stamina they had squandered in their support of the Rowan's day of rest.

So it came as somewhat of a surprise when the Rowan, on the fifth day after Raven's joyful appearance, psychically screamed. JEFF RAVEN!

What's the matter, Rowan?

He's gone. His touch is gone! Instantly Afra rushed up the stairs to her Tower. Her panic had reached down through Afra to Brian Ackerman and Bill Power who followed the Capellan into the Tower.

We'll link! Afra told the frightened Rowan.

She opened to them, Afra marshalling the others in a mental pyramid with her as the apex and calling up the full power of the station's six generators. After a horrifically long moment, a panicked Rowan, terror-stricken, turned to him. 'He isn't there! Surely he's heard us!' Afra had never expected that he would have to be the comforter of a bereaved Rowan. He had survived the stress of her meeting Jeff Raven, falling instantly in love with the man's charismatic personality: he had accepted that he would remain on the outside of that relationship in the role of supportive friend, steadfast companion. But how could he possibly cope with a bereft and doubly desperate woman who had lost her soul's mate? The Rowan needed his aid, now. He extinguished his fear, took the initiative and reached for her hands.

'Breathe more slowly, Rowan,' he ordered her in tones he forced to be calm. 'There can be many reasons.

Rowan?

Afra squeezed her hands reassuringly at the faint call: 'You see, I told you. The Rowan jerked her hands out of his. 'That's not Jeff!

Yes?

Come at once! Jeff needs you!

Afra saw her determined expression and caught her arm as she started out of her chair. He could not imagine her trying the jump to Deneb after her black terror in viewing the Earth. 'Now, wait a moment, Rowan.

'You heard!' She returned in resolute tones. 'He needs me! I'm going!' I want a wide open mind from everyone on Station! she added mentally, circumventing Afra. Then she was not there, in the Tower, but settling in the launch.

Where's my linkage, Afra?

Afra's hands were tightly, painfully clenched to his sides. Must I lose you, too? The painful whimper came from the depths of his soul.

He realized that if he did not refuse her, if he provided her the jump power to Deneb and she died, he would have as good as killed her with his bare hands.

Afra, do it now! the Rowan shouted. If Jeff needs me, I must go!

Do it before I realize what I'm doing!

Rowan, you can't attempt... The thought jerked out of him.

Don't argue, Afra. Help me! If I've been called, I must go!

Afra turned slowly in the high lonely Tower to gaze down at the sealed capsule and his beloved friend inside.

I'll be waiting for her at the usual point... came that faint firm mind-tone. Afra recognized its essential femininity, its assurance of the transfer and its over-riding anxiety for Jeff Raven.

That confident assurance decided him, though logic informed him that Jeff's was the only powerful mind Deneb had so far produced. As he released his fists and assembled the psychic power of the station, the Rowan gripped his psyche strongly, bringing him tightly into the merge.

It was as if she was convinced that if she held him so tightly he could not resist or alter it. She was wrong. Afra allowed himself a moment's amazement to realize that he could resist her, could stop this transfer.

Then the coordinates were in her mind and she pressed against the generators and, with his sudden willing cooperation, was gone.

Long after the generators wound down to silence, Afra Lyon stood in the lonely high Tower of the Rowan, tears streaking his face as he worried and wondered and prayed as he had never done before that the Rowan was safe, that she could help her beloved and that he had not made the wrong decision in sending her to Deneb VIII.

His tears had dried, his fears had seeped away, and he had somehow fallen into the Rowan's chair when he heard a soft step behind him.

'Afra?' It was Brian Ackerman. He came around to stand in front of him and then gripped his shoulder to make him attentive. 'Can you hear her?' 8o Afra drew a deep breath, gently flicked off the stationmaster's grip and stood up. He shook his head. 'No, I can't.' Ackerman winced and closed his eyes for a moment against what must now be done. 'You'll have to tell Reidinger.' He spoke carefully, weighing the impact on the tall Capellan.

I know. The voice of Earth Prime startled them both.

To Afra only, he said, I owe you a great debt, bold Lyon.

And a myriad of images followed that thought: Reidinger knew that Afra had run the station the day Jeff Raven came through; he knew of Afra's valiant efforts to cure the Rowan of her claustrophobia; he guessed Afra's role in maintaining the balance of her sanity; guessed his role and power in the Rowan's trip to Deneb. Sadly the Earth Prime added, I may have to draw deeper into your debt. And Reidinger shared the fear that Jeff Raven would not live, offering Afra the position of the Rowan 5 comforter and Jeff Raven's surrogate. You have always loved her, I know, Reidinger added with flashes of sexual intensity Angrily, Afra shook his head. You cannot even begin to understand!

And Afra found himself locked tight against a powerful mind, a mind which could have picked clean his darkest secrets. No, my friend, I do. In my fashion, and Afra perceived a sincere fatherly interest, more tender than ever imagined, locked deep within Reidinger's gruff exterior, I love her too!

Afra sensed a change in Reidinger's thinking. But you, my impetuous friend, I fear for you. It was one thing to be little brother to the virgin queen and attentive courtier to the royal couple.

But some alternative might be needed to anchor her sanity. You are there and already have her trust and appreciation Although Afra had always known how ruthless Reidinger could be in the care and maintenance of FT&T and his precious Primes, this half-formed suggestion made him more amused than indignant. Especially as they didn't even know for certain that contingency plans were needed.

There could be any number of reasons why Jeff Raven had been unavailable to the Rowan: though it was rather difficult to find a logical one.

With all respect, sir, we don't need to go into that just yet, I think.

You know something I don't? Reidinger seemed to leap on him.

No, but I refuse to be negative. Especially where the Rowan's concerned.

Do you know how valuable that girl is?

ToFT&T?

Don't roar at me, Capellan Lyon!

Then abruptly his mind-tone altered to one of immense and incredulous belief. She did it. She pulled him back, though I can sense only the most delicate of flickers. She knows she's saved his life.

A wave of relief that was close to orgiastic surged through Afra at that report. He had to grip the arms of the chair to keep his balance, so intense was his sense of reprieve from disaster. He knew that Reidinger shared his reaction.

Thank God, if you believe in one, for that mercy.

I do, I will. My gratitude for sharing the news. You will keep us informed of the conditions on Deneb?

Of course! Reidinger said reassuringly. By way of parting, he shot, And Afra, I'll want you to retest when all this is over. You can't be merely T4 with all the shenanigans you've enacted lately. T-3

at the least so I'm upgrading you. And paying you accordingly, starting today. He chuckled. We'll argue over back pay later.

Afra started to protest the unexpected, and possibly undeserved promotion. But to argue with Earth Prime?

Reidinger's laugh cut through that thought.

Please! Argue! You need the practice! Then, including Ackerman back in his conversation, Reidinger added, I think it best that we all pretend I don't know where the Rowan is. Afra was perplexed by that.

Let's just say that I've got games of my own to play, young Lyon.

Until I tell you, the Rowan is not to know we talked. If she contacts you, behave accordingly. And then he was gone.

Brian and Afra exchanged surprised looks. 'Well, you know he likes to play his games, Afra,' Brian said first.

Afra nodded, brows furrowed. 'We will tell the others that he doesn't know and we'll continue as we did when they had their day off.' Two days later the Rowan contacted him late at night.

Afra was surprised that he could receive her, even with the gestalt of her generators over that distance. Maybe he was legitimately a T-3. He didn't mention that as he carefully made a note of the supplies she requested.

I may have to break them into smaller parcels than usual, Rowan, he said when he examined the complete list.

That's all right. The generator here can't handle too much, the Rowan replied forgivingly, then added, How are you holding up? I don't know how long I'll have to stay here on Deneb to be sure Jeff s going to recover completely from his shrapnel wounds.

Bet he'll watch where he steps from now on.

Does Reidinger know where I am?

Afra chuckled. We're doing well enough. Generator three has magically developed a glitch which has reduced 'your' ability to handle heavy traffic.

Oh, Afra! Thank you! Across the light-years, Afra felt the gentle caress of a grateful friend. He thanked Reidinger's God for deliverance from a less appealing role.

In another few days, Afra heard from Reidinger; the contact announced by a deep chuckle echoing in his mind.

I singed her ears off, Afra! But she gave as good as she got and begged me to send you a couple of T-2s. Reidinger's 'voice' took on a different tone. Who do you want?

Afra shrugged. If it's all the same with you, we're doing well enough just now. Just keep our loads like this and we'll manage.

Reidinger snorted. I just finished telling her I wouldn't have her burnt out catching cargo unaided, do you think I'm fool enough to burn out her best man?

Afra was not aware that Reidinger was broadcasting until Brian Ackerman turned to him with a grin of agreement.

Sadly, Reidinger added, I myself am too busy to handle the increased load of Callisto so I'm sending you a pair of T-2s.

I'm sure you'll treat them well.

How's the Rowan, Reidinger? Brian asked, boosting himself off Afra.

Don't you ever tell her, Reidinger returned with that incredible tenderness that so surprised the two stationers, but I think she's doing just fine! He paused. Oh, and by the way, do you want to switch brands of whisky this year?

Brian Ackerman's eyes widened in amazement; it was well-known that when he used to threaten to resign from Callisto Station on a yearly basis, he was bribed to remain with a case of his favorite tipple but it never once occurred to him that Earth Prime knew that!

Uk, no, I've gotten rather used to the Paddy's now, Brian managed to respond. Beside him, Afra doubled over in a laughing fit.

Torshan and Saggoner duly arrived and the Tower staff, worked just slightly ragged in keeping with a cunning plan laid down by Brian and carried through by Afra, were more than pleased to have their aid.

Although there were several teething troubles, the calm togetherness of the loving pair of T-2s and Afra's demanding performance standards soon had the station operating at nearly peak efficiency within the week.

The routine was set in the next week and by the third week the station personnel had nearly forgotten life under the Rowan. It was shattered when a personal capsule arrived unheralded in a cradle.

Belay that! Afra called to a cargo handler who nearly crushed it with the capsule scheduled for that cradle. Afra was hot with anger at the near catastrophe. Who the hell put that capsule- he began and then touched the mind inside it. ROWAN!

Pandemonium broke out as the rest of the station heard his mental shout. Suddenly everyone 'ported in around her, patting her, talking to her, hugging her. The Rowan turned bright red in the face of such open affection. Afra sent a personal message on a tight beam to Torshan and Saggoner to explain the sudden disruption of his usually orderly station. They accepted his explanation calmly, saying that they would work around the celebration.

The next day's work, due to the Rowan's return, progressed with an incredible ease. Afra had forgotten how effortlessly she handled even the heaviest loads.

Once the work was finished, Afra was contacted by the Rowan.

I need to talk to Reidinger, she told him, almost daring him to challenge her.

Is that wise? Afra replied, fretting that, somehow, she had discovered Reidinger's duplicity.

He can't be that bad! she responded, adding that Reidinger had no call to be angry over her absence.

Afra responded diplomatically but somewhat defensively on behalf of Reidinger.

He gained a lot more than I risked, she told him.

Afra examined her carefully, noting the faint augmentation to her aura. His eyes narrowed. Was she putting on weight? No, at least not without good cause. I know, he responded warmly. Did the Rowan know her condition?

Probably not since she'd had other concerns to divert her from noticing a physiological change.

I'd like to surprise the old geezer, she continued.

Geezer? Afra spluttered, thinking that she was due for a few surprises herself, especially as she'd never been able to meet Reidinger face to face.

You've contacts at Earth Prime Headquarters. Can one of them sneak me in without having to announce my arrival?

The question startled him so he continued to banter with her while thinking furiously under tight shields. First he'd have to warn Reidinger, and then Gollee, but he did assure the Rowan that he knew someone who might do him a favour. He begged a few minutes to arrange matters.

Reidinger? Afra called in the tightest telepathic shaft he could manage.

Who'? was the gruff response. This better be good.

Hurriedly, Afra explained.

And it was good enough for he could 'hear' Reidinger's grin quite plainly. Excellent! I have to talk to her anyway and it'll be better if she thinks she's got me at a disadvantage.

Here's what we do Afra absorbed the instructions with a growing sense of betrayal. Reidinger perceived that and broke off. Afra, you know that I want the best for her. She needs a father figure, someone to rebel against. And I need her spirited, rebellious. We all do.

Privately, Afra remained unconvinced but he couldn't quarrel with Reidinger. And it might just have a beneficial effect on the Rowan's growing recklessness. Now that she could travel without ill effect, who knew to what lengths she might take her new freedom?

Thank you, Reidinger said, I'll tell Gren.

Afra turned his attention back to the Rowan. Well, Gollee's agreed to my especial request to escort my anonymous young friend as far as he's able but security has to be placated.

He'll meet you at the landing field entrance.

Reidinger must have been listening discreetly to Afra's answer, for Afra caught him swearing. Keerist! Security!

I'll have to warn them or my security beams'll fry her when she jumps in!

Afra turned hastily to call out to the Rowan but she was already gone. Angrily, he growled, Reidinger!

Like gold dust, lad, Earth's Prime Talent called back gently.

I'll treat her like she was my own blood. Uh-oh!

She's here! Reidinger faded out, and came back with: I meant to tell you - will tell you later Afra did not hear from Reidinger until the next morning as he was finishing his usual skimpy breakfast.

'Altair?' Afra shouted aloud when Reidinger told him of his assignment for the Rowan. HOW COULD YOU?

I had to! Reidinger retorted sharply. Afra, who had spent years learning to read emotion, caught an undertone of pain in Earth Prime's voice. It was the pain of command, the malaise that comes from having made too many disagreeable decisions; also, very deep, was the pain of a person who was just plain old. Afra hastily accessed his data console's readout on Reidinger - he was approaching his one hundred and tenth birthday.

Afra considered telling Reidinger of the real reason for his anger at the Rowan's reassignment but decided against it: the Rowan and Jeff Raven had the right of making that disclosure. Besides, Afra chided himself, he was not sure that the Rowan was pregnant. Nor that the child would be a boy and very talented.

Besides, Reidinger added in a very small tone, I had to free you and Ackerman to perform a very special mission.

Don't you think Callisto's been disrupted enough without removing us? Afra returned tartly. He frowned at himself, both annoyed and amazed that he could react to the man who was, for all intents and purposes, Federal Telepath and Teleport.

I wouldn't dream of moving either of you! Reidinger responded.

However, I have to think of the future beyond me and, frankly, while Jeff Raven's a good man, he does not have the skills required to run a Prime station. I want youAfra was ahead of him. Me? To teach the Rowan's husband? Has it occurred to you that the man might not even want me around his wife? Let alone himself and his children?

It has, Reidinger responded sadly. And I think it would be the greatest of catastrophes.

Afra spluttered, spreading his hands in dismay. While he would be deeply saddened, he could not see how his personal feelings would amount to a catastrophe.

Reidinger made it clear to him. What good are they to me if they can only work together? Do you honestly think that the Rowan would choose a man so petty? Come, you know she almost chose Stop! Afra called, eyes closed painfully. The Rowan is my friend and more. I love her like a sister. If her happiness requires that I step out of her life, then not you, nor theFT&T nor anyone will stop me!

So you'll run away at the slightest possible excuse, will you?

Reidinger hurled in response. Green by colour, green by nature, is that it, Capellan? Are you afraid to look upon their love? Do you love her so little that you cannot welcome her husband with open arms?

I never said that! Afra returned heatedly, yellow eyes flaring.

I will gladly work with Jeff Raven. He's a remarkable man and he well suits the Rowan. But you must understand, there are secrets, things the Rowan and I have shared that that may make it very difficult for him to work with me.

Give it a try, then, Reidinger said. If it doesn't work out, we'll try something else. But don't prejudge the man already have, Afra returned with a grin. She's chosen him which makes him special.

Besides which, the man has such a way with him, he can charm anyone.

Reidinger's response was laughter. As he charmed even Earth Prime? Afra was astonished that Reidinger grasped that hidden qualification. I have always thought that you were a wise perceptive lion. Just think of this assignment as another way in which you help the Rowan - as well as FT&T The interview was over, Reidinger's mind faded out but not without a final warmth and an ill-concealed ache.

The interview left Afra mentally drained and emotionally confused.

He had liked what he saw of Jeff Raven and could not but rejoice that the Rowan had finally met her mate. It gave him hopes that perhaps someday he too could be so happy. But he had not lied to Reidinger when he fretted that his brotherly intimacy with the Rowan could prove a source of friction between himself and Jeff Raven.

Brian Ackerman buzzed his commlink. 'Afra, where's the Rowan?' In response, Afra downed his breakfast, tossed the container towards the dishwasher and jumped to the Control Room. Brian started irritably with Afra's arrival.

'Her replacement's due in soon, Brian. Better let everyone know.' 'Replacement?' Ackerman echoed in his confusion.

A newly painted personal capsule appeared in the nearest cradle.

Afra?

Here, Afra responded, sending a mental image. And Jeff Raven appeared in the room.

'I'm sorry we didn't have time to talk the last time I was here,' Jeff Raven said to him, extending a hand, his wide smile as charismatic as ever. His face still bore the marks of his recent near-fatal accident, but the vigour of the man was restored. 'But I guess we'll have plenty of time now to correct that.' Bracing himself, Afra took the hand and returned the firm grip with one of his own. Feeling the generous surge of gratitude and respect before the clasp was broken, Afra could reply with complete honesty. 'I look forward to it.' Jeff turned around the room nodding at those he knew and smiling at those he did not.

'If you haven't guessed yet,' Afra said to the Tower at large, 'this is Jeff Raven who's here to replace the Rowan.

She's been upgraded to a whole planet, her native Altair.' He did not have to tell them that Siglen was no more.

'Afra,' Jeff called politely, 'a word with you.' Afra approached and Jeff looked around the room critically.

'Let's talk in the Tower.

When they entered, Jeff looked around it. 'At least there are two couches,' he remarked cryptically. Then he looked at the Capellan.

'If we're going to work together, there's something we must clear u' Afra raised a hand, forestalling him, having already prepared for the worst. 'I can leave. Reidinger'll get you a replacement easily.

There's a very good T-4 at Blundell, Gollee Gren: you may even have met him. You two'd probably work quite well together-' Hold on!

Jeff Raven broke through his apologetic dissembling. He regarded Afra searchingly for several moments. Then he grabbed him, hugged him tightly, thumping him on the back with sturdy fists. Thank you! Afra was confused. Thank you for her sanity, for her happiness, for everything! I couldn't exactly convey all of that downstairs when we shook hands --- not with everyone wide open for input -'Wh-what?' 'I think she would have gone insane if not for you, Afra Lyon,' Jeff said aloud. 'You weathered her rantings and 9' ravings, her tantrums, her fears and always you were there to give her the support she needed.' He paused, drew another breath, 'While I was convalescing on Deneb, she was forever talking of family - even if mine is a bit overwhelming in the close quarters we had to share - but, whenever she thinks of family, your face comes to her mind.' Jeff grabbed Afra's forearm, reinforcing what he was saying. Then he shook his head, giving one of his lopsided grins. 'Look, Afra, you are her family, but when we make our union formal, would you do me the honour of standing to my right as my best man?' Afra took an involuntary step backwards as the words sank in. He slipped out of Raven's grasp. He swallowed, found words.

'I guess I've been over-reacting but I've been afraid that you might resent my relationship with the Rowan.' He bowed deeply. 'I see that I was unutterably at fault.' He straightened, nodding to Jeff Raven's tight smile.

'You must understand that... over the years here well, we've become attached... not really involved, but emotionally attached in a special way. I know she regarded me as the brother she never had.' Hesitantly he licked his lips. 'To be perfectly honest, Raven, had you not appeared, I was perfectly willing-' Jeff held up a hand. 'I know,' he said softly, 'and I thank you.' Seeing Afra's puzzled look, his expression turned rueful. 'Your hesitation only confirms what we both know now - she was never the right person for you. I don't know how I got so lucky. I devoutly hope that one day you will know the intensity of the bond we share.' His smile altered to one of sadness.

'Unfortunately, not many of my relations survived and all my remaining sisters and older cousins are already committed so you can't marry into my family.' Jeff shifted his position and drew a breath.

'Sometimes I babble too much, or so my mother tells me. I'll give you a chance to answer me: are you willing, as brother by bond, to stand with me when I exchange vows with the Rowan?' A slight grin played across Afra's face but he bowed again, deeply. 'The greatest honour that you - both could bestow on me.' 'Then why the grin?' 'Well, you are planning on uniting soon, aren't you?' Jells answer was preempted by Ackerman's call.

Afra!

We've got cargo to move or we'll be backlogged for a week!

'That was really why I asked you up here,' Jeff said. Afra was confused until Jeff added, 'I've never run a station before. I want you to know that whatever you say, I'll do.

I consider myself your pupil.' With a wink, he added, 'I'm under orders from herself to trust you completely.

I believe her exact words were: "Do what Afra says and don't mess up!"

When Afra looked sceptical, Jeff gave him a pleading look. 'Very well, Jeff, as we're under her orders.' Afra made for the door 'Where are you going?' 'To the Control Room,' Afra explained. 'Only the Rowan works up here.

'I'll get lonely,' Jeff responded in mock serious tones. He waved a hand at the second chair that had been installed for the duration of Torshan and Saggoner's Primacy. 'Why not stay here with me? There're two feeds and it'll be easier.' 'My consoles at the Control Room are programmed for my particular duties,' Afra explained.

'I'll learn the running of a station quicker the sooner I understand your duties as well as my own,' Jeff responded.

He waved Afra to come back to the centre of the room.

'Do what you can now and we'll have the technicians rig up more consoles here.' Afra was reluctant. 'Wouldn't it be more efficient to have the Prime and all the station crew in one room?' Afra's eyes bugged out, Raven was practically quoting him! 'The Rowan never thought so.' Afra temporized.

'Hmm,' Jeff mused, 'probably safer for the rest of you, given her volatile nature.' He cast a telling glance at Afra.

'And you would never think to argue with her. But my dear love is not here now and she said to listen to you in all things. So tell me, Afra of Capella, what do you think of consolidating the station's operations?' A slow smile spread across Afra's face. Ackerman, initiate the Epsilon Plan!

Are you serious? Ackerman 5 response was incredulous with excitement.

Please, was Jeff Raven's response. If it is a plan to consolidate operations, I can think of nothing more dear to my heart.

Immediately! And Ackerman was gone, bustling off to set up a plan he and Afra had lusted over for many years.

Epsilon is the Greek symbol used to calculate efficiency, Afra said in reply to Jeff's unspoken question. He tapped a console. You have just ingratiated yourself for ever to Brian by making his dearest wish come true.

'The first cargo is a freighter, Prime,' Afra said aloud.

'The data is on your number two console.' Within a week an ecstatic Ackerman reported a 20 per cent increase in the station's throughput. Afra noticed that the Callisto crew were eager to aid Jeff Raven in any way at all. His easy manner, willingness to cut administrivia to its least parts, and his relationship with the Rowan all served to cement their devotion to him.

Jeff took a break at the sixth day to visit the Rowan at her Altairian Tower.

'Will you be arranging for the ceremony?' Afra asked with studied nonchalance as Jeff prepared to leave.

'There's no rush,' Jeff replied absently. Afra grew silent.

Ready! Jeff called.

Then he was gone and the generators wound down while the off shift crew raced to perform the little maintenance that was necessary.

Afra was rather pleased, two days later, when Raven returned with an incredulous look on his face.

'You knew!' he accused Afra. 'You knew and you didn't even tell me!' His eyes narrowed. 'How did you know?' 'I've been her friend for eight years, Jeff,' Afra responded evenly, not showing a trace of the smugness he felt. 'There's a slight variation in her that I was able to perceive.' 'Who else knows?' Afra shook his head. 'No-one.' He looked apologetic. 'I would have told you but, after all, it isn't precisely the sort of information one lobs off the way one launches cargo.

'But she didn't even know, until last week, or so she told me.

And she told me as soon as she suspected.' Jeff gave him a scrutinizing look, leaving unvoiced his amazement that Afra should know such an intimate fact.

Afra was by that time well enough attuned to Jeff Raven that he held up his hands in protest. 'An intimate fact, yes, but I've had to become very much aware of the Rowan on both the mental and physical levels for the last eight years. I'm delighted that the perception is verified.' He said that last with some stiffness of manner.

Jeff sighed and nodded. 'Sorry. I think I know my mate intimately but I also know, and accept, that there are many levels of intimacy, my good friend!' His grin dissolved Afra's coolness.

'Are you glad it's a boy?' Jeff stared at him, astounded. 'I didn't know -' and he shook his head in bemusement, 'and I don't think the Rowan does either that our child is male. I never realized that you're a precog, too.

Afra shrugged. 'I'm not, but the child is a boy. Or did you want a daughter? I could be wrong.

Jeff gave Afra a slow grin. 'I haven't yet learned to cope with my lovely Rowan. I'll hope you're right. I'll need more time before I have to deal with a miniature Rowan. Though it could be fun. How about you? Game for a repeat?' Afra grinned back. 'I don't see as I have the option. I'm in too deep to change.' At that Jeff chuckled, throwing an arm around the tall Capellan's bony shoulders. 'So what happened here while I was away, eh, Afra?' Afra! Raven called at the beginning of his third week as Callisto Prime, there's a T4 here!

Afra popped up to the rearranged Tower. He still had misgivings over the appearance of the revamped Tower.

Wires ran all over the place and were a potential danger to the unwary but Ackerman cheerfully assured him that was to allow the Tower to be rearranged to the Rowan's old style if suddenly required.

'We'll have the new ducts laid in the next downshift,' the stationmaster added.

'Ah,' Afra was unruffled, 'Jeff Raven, meet Gollee Gren, T-4.

Jeff nodded politely to Gollee who seemed to have lost his usually glib tongue in the presence of a man who was becoming a living legend.

'Glad to meet you,' he said absently, turning back to the Capellan. He very pointedly raised an eyebrow at Afra.

'You're not going to be here for the rest of your life, Jeff,' Afra began diplomatically. 'At which point you will probably want to know that you can work with another T-4. Besides, Gollee needs the training.' Afra grinned maliciously when Gollee opened his mouth to protest, a response not lost on Jeff Raven.

'I see,' Jeff said noncommittally but it was obvious to Afra how little he liked the notion.

Afra sighed. 'The best way to prove you've learned something is to teach.' Jeff eyed him thoughtfully. 'The Rowan never mentioned this aspect of your personality.' 'The Rowan never asked me to train her, either,' Afra replied with a saccharine smirk. He wasn't sure which reaction pleased him more: Jeff's or Gollee's. He stepped away from the second couch. 'I'll be within call here if either of you need me,' he added with an overly courteous bow to both as he waved a reluctant Gren to take the seat and tapped a display. 'First launch is Earthward, Reidinger to catch As he had hoped, Gren's mischievous stance matched Jeff Raven's 'homeboy' nature perfectly. By the end of the day the two were working the station's cargo effortlessly.

During the next several months, life at Callisto Station devolved into steady easy routine with Gren and other Talents arriving at scheduled times to work with the Denebian to broaden his ability to handle gestalt with different personalities. Afra and Ackerman noted that Jeff worked best with Gren, a report which Reidinger received with a grunt.

I've been hoping to find a use for that one! Reidinger exclaimed.

What, met someone you can't handle? Afra asked, amused.

I seem to have a problem with T4s and -35, Reidinger replied imperturbably. It'd worry me except there're so many of them I can fire 'em when I please.

Afra refused to rise to the bait.

The Rowan's return to Callisto Station five months later as a visit turned into a permanent reassignment the instant Reidinger learned that she was pregnant. Reidinger singed Afra's mental 'ears' when he admitted that he had known of the pregnancy. Well, f I can't trust you, I'll have to set up my own spy.

Afra was genuinely pleased to have the Rowan back at Callisto.

While he had enjoyed working with Jeff Raven, he had to admit to himself that perversely he found greater comfort in his link with the unpredictable Rowan.

'Oh, by the way, Afra, the Rowan's been pestering me to ask you something,' Jeff said abruptly one evening as the station closed down.

'Oh, what?' 'If you'll stand as l.p. to our son?' 'ElI Pee?' 'Yes, loco parentis. Admittedly it's a Denebian custom but, considering the hazards on my planet,' and Jeff's grin was rueful, 'it ensures that someone whom the parents of a child trust will oversee its upbringing.

The Rowan liked the idea as being much more personal than being made Ward of the Planet. We'd both be glad if you would be willing to stand in an l.p. capacity for our child.' Afra was deeply touched and it was several seconds before he could speak. 'Nothing is going to happen to you!' Jeff silenced him with a gesture. 'We certainly don't plan on it but-' 'And you've a planet full of relatives ' afra hedged.

'They're there, of course, but it's the Talent aspect of our child that we both want to sustain, Afra, and no-one on Deneb's got much Talent training. I know you are critical of the way you were reared on Capella, but I can say with objectivity that you've a large advantage in such training over me. And, besides, the Rowan and I agreed on you, Afra.' Jeff's blue eyes were frank. He quirked his head, his characteristic smile beginning to tug at his mouth. 'What do I tell her?' Afra smiled a soft sad smile. 'Tell her that I would be a bad choice: if something happened to either of you I would surely be dead beforehand.' Jeff laughed. 'Don't be morbid. You're not precogging again, are you?' When Afra vigorously denied that, he was audibly relieved. 'Besides, I've firsthand experience of how good an instructor you are, you know.' Afra bowed deeply, once more falling back on ingrained courtesies to respond. 'Jeff Raven, please tell your lovely wife that I am deeply honoured and will be glad to serve in loco parentis to any children of yours and to the best of my ability.' Jeff gave him a curt satisfied nod and a hearty clout on the shoulder. The Denebian never learned the non-tactile etiquette of Talents but somehow, such familiarity from Jeff never offended. 'Good! It's settled, then. Now, tell me, what do you know of babies?' It turned out that Afra knew quite a lot about babies, having dealt with his sister's children on several occasions and having even minded the Ackerman kids when Brian and his wife needed a night off.

At the end of their chat, Jeff sighed deeply. 'You will let me know if the Rowan's keeping something from me, won't you?' 'Are you going somewhere?' Afra asked, startled.

'Yes, hadn't you heard?' Jeff's attitude was ingenuous surprise.

'Apparently Reidinger's decided to get his own back by making me a sort of roving Prime.' He drew up to his full height and made a mock bow.

Afra laughed. 'Remember when the Rowan told you Reidinger'd take it out of your hide?' Jeff shrugged, his expression comical. 'For a worthy cause.' Then he winked, his expression turning slightly malicious. 'He might as well make use of my ability to travel. I'm the only Prime who can zip about as it pleases me.' 'Why don't you challenge Reidinger to travel now we all know that Siglen imposed the neurosis?' Jeff gave Afra a long hard look, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 'I really should, shouldn't I? The old sly geezer.

He'd probably growl something about teaching old dogs new tricks.' 'I think,' Afra said in a slow thoughtful tone, 'that I'm just as glad Reidinger can't. His mental bark is bad enough!

I'd hate to know he could 'port wherever he wished and chew me out face to face.' Jeff cocked one eyebrow and grinned with deliberate malice. 'Oh, well, you could always bull your way through.

Afra blinked, gawped and then burst out laughing at Jeff's sly reminder.

'And he still has both bull and cow on his desk,' Jeff added. 'I think if you had to, you'd give as good as you got. Another reason why we want you as l.p.

for our son. Say, you can't, by any chance, hear the baby, can you?' 'No.' Afra's response was definite and a little bit sad.

The birth of Jeran Raven was a cause for joyous celebration throughout Callisto Station and beyond. Everyone under the domes heard the healthy mental cry of the baby as it was born and the communal welcome added to the gentle ambience from the three adults present at the delivery.

Attentive Primes also heard it; Afra had to carefully supervise the removal of kilos and kilos of rare flowers, sent by an ecstatic Peter Reidinger, from the Gwyn-Raven quarters. The arrival of floral offerings almost undid the careful schedule Afra and Brian had worked out to keep Callisto operating with a reduced workload while their Prime had limited capability.

afra was working late, catching up on the rescheduling when the door buzzer to his quarters rang. 'Come!' He rose and strode to greet his guest at the door. It was Jeff's mother, Isthia Raven. Afra had seen her about the station during the last days of the Rowan's confinement but had purposely not intruded upon her.

'You have not come to see the child, Afra Lyon,' Isthia began immediately.

'I've been busy and had no wish to disturb him or his parents..

.' Afra hesitated slightly, not certain how to address this blue-eyed lady with a cap of crisp black curls.

'You may certainly call me Isthia.' Afra inclined his head.

'Rowan told me about you, how closely you work together.' She looked at him keenly. 'Are you afraid of newborns, then?' Afra laughed.

'Hardly. When would it be convenient for me to come? Rowan seems to need a lot of rest these days.' 'She does, but you are always welcome.

Come this afternoon and get it over with.' 'I scarcely consider it an obligation to be "got over Afra said.

Isthia gave him another of her searching looks. 'No, I don't think you would. But you are down as loco parentis and you haven't so much as cast an eyeball over my grandson. Yet you and the Rowan have been very close.' 'Not,' and Afra felt it advisable to reassure her on that score, as close as she and Jeff, if that is what you're worried about.' Isthia regarded him with wide-eyed surprise. 'I'm not the least worried about it now that we've met for it is quite plain to me that you are an honourable person.

'00 Afra gave a slightly impudent bow which she dismissed with an irritated wave. 'Are all Capellans so inhibited?' 'All Capellans are raised to be courteous under any conditions.

Isthia gave a bark of laughter. 'Good shot. We Denebians tend to speak our minds.' 'I'd noticed. It makes a nice change.' 'Well, I can see why the Rowan and Jeff rely so much on you. I just wanted to be certain myself that you'd be suitable as a default parent.' 'Is that what all this is about?' 'Of course,' Isthia replied stoutly. 'I like a man who doesn't balk at taking difficult paths or walking tightropes.

But you could be easier on yourself now and then.' Mildly surprised at the line this conversation was taking, Afra looked at her quizzically.

'Don't try that on me, young man,' Isthia commanded, eyes twinkling to remove the sting. 'You must come to Deneb some time. Let your mind rest from your very strenuous labours.' 'It would be my pleasure. Yours must be a fascinating world to develop such amazing Talents.' 'Develop Talent? Oh, I suppose so.

Afra was nonplussed by her casual dismissal. He sensed that she had considerable Talent herself though Jeff had never mentioned that she'd been tested. If her attitude was indicative of the general population, it was no wonder Jeff and Rowan worried about Jeran's potential Talent.

'Come to think on it,' and Isthia's expression altered suddenly to that curious blankness that Afra had been taught heralded a precognitive episode, 'you will come to Deneb...' She hesitated as her eyes, suddenly clouded, rested unseeing on his face. A chill raised gooseflesh on his arms. ' -.. to rest your mind and renew life.' Abruptly she shook her head, eyes clearly blue again. 'Did I go off just then?' 'I didn't notice anything,' Afra said smoothly, as much because of her earlier dismissal of Talent, as because her clairvoyancy genuinely had startled him. He felt uncomfortable with such cryptic talk. 'May I offer you refreshment ?' 'That would be very pleasant.

You don't happen to have tea, do you?' she asked wistfully.

'China or Indian?' 'Indian,' she said, a hopeful smile on her face.

'Earl Grey or Darjeeling?' 'Darjeeling,' she replied with happy relief. 'Marvellous institution, tea. A man who serves tea is certain to be an asset to the Raven clan.' 'I beg pardon?' 'Well, you did agree to stand in loco parentis for Jeran, so you are, in effect, bound to the Raven clan.' Afra was puzzled but caused the kettle to boil before he looked back at Jeff Raven's indomitable mother. 'If this is some form of ritual bonding...' Some pioneer planets had revived rather barbaric customs.

'No, no ritual. Just acknowledgement of fact,' Isthia responded.

The kettle whistled.

Tea-making, on the other hand, did require certain minor rituals which Afra dutifully observed, patently to Isthia Raven's delight. And for the rest of the visit they exchanged pleasantries.

Afra found himself waxing effusive in the presence of this remarkable woman and was genuinely unhappy when she took her leave.

'Oh, we'll talk again, Afra, she warned him. Be certain of it!

'And when are you coming to visit your new responsibility? Not to mention his mother. She's fretting that her maternity is repulsive to y) Never! The response flew out of Afra before he could control the impulse.

Isthia merely smiled. 'She'll be glad to hear that.

Jeff Raven insisted on helping Afra and the Callisto Station whenever he was available while the Rowan was on maternity leave.

However, she became quite agitated when he protested her return to the Tower a scant ten days after her labour.

Arrgh! It was my body that strained, not my mind! she said in a fine fume over his protests. Men!

However, with Jeran not yet established on a regular sleeping cycle, the Rowan was apt to tire easily or be forgetful. It was a 'memorable' period, as Isthia later commented. Afra and Isthia spent much time together, volunteering for baby detail, merely chatting or playing bridge with the Ackermans, a game which both Afra and Isthia had missed sorely in the past.

Jeff was surprised when Reidinger summoned him to Earth for a conference.

'Why can't he just 'path me?' Raven complained to Afra when the formal message was received.

'I suspect he has his reasons,' Afra responded soothingly, expression carefully neutral. 'Do be sure to say hello to Gollee when you're down there.' 'And Luciano! Ye gods! What food!' Jeff licked his lips in anticipation. 'Be certain, I will!' Hours later he returned. You knew! Jeff swore at him.

Reidinger is one hundred and ten, you've been trained on Tower procedures, you work like a maniac, you know every Prime there is, I thought it rather obvious. It was just a question of timing, was Afra's phlegmatic reply.

You didn't tell her, did you? Jeff asked with some alarm.

Of course not! There are certain surprises that must be personally delivered, Afra replied in a pointed reminder to the knowledge of the Rowan's pregnancy.

'Good! I can't wait to see her face!' And Jeff jumped to the Rowan's quarters to spread the glad word.

Brian Ackerman had watched the whole exchange from a considerate distance but his curiosity overwhelmed him when Raven departed.

'What was that all about?' he asked. Afra shrugged noncommittally. 'Good news?' Earth Prime! The mental seepage from the Rowan's mental exultation vibrated through every mind on the station.

'You could say that,' Afra said with a slight smirk. Then he added thoughtfully, 'You know, the Rowan usually shields and we've not had much "noise" from young Master Jeran but he sleeps most of the time. But hadn't we better get the bright boys working on a way to shield infantile babble emanating from the Rowan's place?' Ackerman took on an abstracted look which turned puzzled. 'He's not loud enough to worry about. Oh, yes, she's not likely to stop with just one, is she? I remember her telling me she wanted a large family. Of course, she may change her mind. My wife did but, yeah, maybe we ought to look into the problem before it becomes one.' Ackerman jotted a quick note down on his ever-present pad.

Six months and two days later, late one night as Afra was just about to give up on an intricate origami dinosaur he had been trying to create for young Jeran, his buzzer beeped.

'Come!' he called, half-irritated, half-relieved at the distraction.

It was Brian Ackerman. Afra greeted him with a ready smile.