Rimon knew he had to do something, hut all he could think to do was go into healing mode. It was hard—harder than it had ever been, but when his systems were re-aligned, Del shuddered, and said, barely breathing, "Don't move, Rimon, or I'll—"
He's fixed on me as if I were a Gen!
In a moment's insane inspiration, he thought, Then I'll be Gen for him! Summoning all his memories of Kadi's soothing need-to-give, he imagined that he was Kadi. He felt his own fields expand, pulsing outward in gradually increasing intensity like a Gen's, masking his own personal selyn consumption.
Del's eyes closed, tension lines smoothed out of his face, and then he slumped against Rimon. Rimon caught him and scooped him into a chair, collapsing wearily beside him, his fields returning to normal. He felt as exhausted as he had the first time he'd tried healing mode.
Gradually, it came to him that he'd done it again—only this time he'd nearly killed a close friend—poor Del, who had lived with this nightmare since Rimon's changeover. Dropping his head into his hands, Rimon said, "What's wrong with me! Can't I trust anyone?"
Del, still gasping and shuddering, said, "Rimon, maybe nothing's wrong with you. I might have tried to take her– I wanted to."
"I wouldn't have let you," protested Kadi.
"Maybe," said Del, "but I couldn't feel that. Rimon, don't you see, you've been behaving just as if you were fixed on Kadi for a kill, permanently fixed on her, not just when you're in hard need. You've never had to face down another Sime trying to cut you out of a kill, or you'd recognize the feeling. But we should have understood. I'm sorry…"
Rimon examined Kadi's nager. "Abel says I'm just acting as if I'm in need all the time. But I think you've got it."
"If everyone understands that," said Del, "especially Kadi, you won't have any more trouble." ,
The short winter day was drawing into night, and Del took his leave—still in need, Rimon noted, and facing his next kill with the same agony Rimon had lived with for four years until Kadi had delivered him from it.
Alone with his two Gens, Rimon felt himself relaxing almost against his will. His Gens made him feel safe somehow—safe from all the horrors only a Sime could know. But I'm paying for it, he thought. I'm more and more in her power every day. But I'll get used to it. I've got to.
Over dinner, he told Kadi about Abel and Jord's problems. "What have we started, Kadi? We're making all our friends sick, and nobody's any better off for it."
"Is that all Abel told you?" she asked, obviously not wanting to pursue that dead-end argument again.
"That's about all, except that Fort Freedom is preparing for some kind of annual celebration. I didn't quite understand it all, but I gather it's some out-Territory custom. Simes would never think of celebrating by eating—feasting, they call it. Eating with religious connotations. We're invited."
"Hmmm," said Kadi. "Following his own customs, Abel has kept his people on a regimen very like your father's. And look at him—despite having been a Raider, he's strong and healthy for his age."
That week there was no snow, just cold, crisp days and clear starlit nights. Rimon, Kadi, and Willa bundled up warmly and drove over to Fort Freedom the day before the festivities began. They stayed in Carlana's house, which had remained empty since she'd married Del.
Rimon had protested at first that Del and Carlana would want to use the house, but they insisted they lived close enough to ride in each day. It was a major project for Rimon and Kadi to move—Rimon drove their spare horses over to join Del's herd, while the goat was installed in the back yard, happily cropping the remains of the garden.
Kadi laughed. "You think it's bad now? In a few years– if we want to go away for a few days, we'll have to pack up not only horses and a goat, and Willa, but three or four kids, some cows, a dog and some cats—and maybe Willa's husband and children!"
They were sitting on a bench by the fire. Willa was lying on the hearth rug, staring into the flames. "I don't think Willa will ever grow up enough to have a husband and children," said Rimon. "Pen-grown Simes rarely achieve normal lives—even those that were never drugged as heavily as Willa was."
"Give her time, Rimon," said Kadi. "She can't grow up overnight. Look at the progress she's made in the short time we've had her."
At least the girl was a help to Kadi, taking over all of the cleaning and much of the cooking. She had learned proper table manners, too—she wouldn't embarrass anyone at the feast.
If she never developed beyond where she was now, she'd probably never be unhappy with her lot. But if Willa came to understand herself as a woman and wanted a husband– where was she to find him?
"Perhaps we should get a male companion for Willa."
"Rimon, what are you thinking of? A male you brought from the Pens could only react as an animal—and a year from now there'd be a baby. They'd be stuck with one another even if they didn't like each other once they both grew up. Honestly, Rimon, sometimes you still think of Gens the way your father does."
He stared at her, his Kadi, so beautiful in the flickering firelight. Her blue eyes sparkled with animation. Duoconscious, he admired the way her pregnancy filled out her childish figure into womanly curves, while on the nageric level her field still outshone Willa's.
"Hey," he took her hand, "I'm still learning. Forgive me if I slip up sometimes?"
"Of course. I forget—it's only two months since you proved you could take transfer from any Gen without killing. It's only now you can drop your own defense against seeing Pen-grown Gens as people."
"You're saying I've been doing the same thing Abel does, only without the theological explanations?"
"Haven't you?"
He nodded. "There are Simes, and there are Gens… and there is Kadi. Abel and the others see their established children as I see you. But they must have their defenses until they learn—if they can learn—"
Kadi's nager became a soothing blank, her eyes suddenly sad.
"Kadi, what's wrong?"
"There's something I must tell you, Rimon—or you'll find out about it without preparation."
"What are you talking about?" Her nager gripped him.
"The day Del came to visit, when you were away. Del was so depressed. You see, during the snow, when no one could travel, Drust Fenell established."
He couldn't wait for her to say it. "Vee killed him."
Kadi nodded. "And herself."
Rimon was numb, suffocating. "Why did they let them try?"
"Nobody let them. They managed to get off alone– and—"
"Oh, Kadi, what have we done?" Rimon forced the words out in a harsh whisper. He felt as if he were struggling against an oppressive weight. "Kadi! Let me grieve!"
She gasped, and he felt her control slip away. Grief flooded through him then, but he was able to cry it out. She held him, crying too. Willa came over to them, worried, touching them, beginning to cry herself without understanding.
The feast was a difficult experience. Fort Freedom was divided into those who still saw Rimon and Kadi as hope for the future, and those who had become fearful of the pain they had brought.
Abel Veritt was showing his age more and more, and Jord was haggard. Mrs. Veritt hovered worriedly over them. Both the Lassiters and Sara Fenell avoided the Farrises, and Rimon felt too guilty to go up to them and offer condolences. Kadi, however, insisted, and so they made the attempt. The responses were cold, but Rimon felt better for trying.
Rimon helped to bring the trestle tables out of storage. There would be a prayer ceremony tonight, and then the chapel would be cleared of benches and the tables set up for the feast tomorrow. As he worked, Rimon felt resentment from some people, while others refused to come near him. Clearly, he and Kadi were no longer welcome.