Channel's Destiny Part 3

"What am I doing?" Owen asked blankly.

"Offering me selyn. I mustn't fix on you. Think about something else. Zeth, go get your father."

But Rimon Farris was already running from the house, Kadi Farris behind him. Immediately, Rimon fell into his channel's stance, voice soothing as he said, "Easy, now. n.o.body's going to be hurt. Del, I'm here. Zlin me."

"Ia"I can'ta""

"Kadi," said Rimon, pointing. As she moved into position, Erick pulled his eyes from his son to look at Rimon. Rimon held out his arms. "Owen, let him go now, gentlya"you're not denying. It's just the wrong time. Come, Del, you don't need Owen, not now. That's it. Excellent."

Rimon put his arm around the man's shoulders and sheltered him from Owen's nager. "Rimon," Erick said with infinite sadness, "I don't dare touch my own son."

"It's all right, Del. n.o.body got hurt," said Rimon.

Erick raised his head. "Owen never did that before!"

"I knowa"" said Rimon, looking toward Owen. "Shen! What a Companion you'd make!"

"Well, why can't I be?"

Zeth saw his father flinch at Owen's frustration, even with his mother standing between Owen and the Simes.

"Dad, you've got to find a way! You've said yourself our community can't afford to waste selyn."

"Rimon," said his mother. "You could take his field down using a shoulder contact, for example."

"What?" said Erick.

"It's something Kadi and I worked out," said Rimon. "I saw it done by Freehand Raiders once. Any symmetrical contact for the laterals will work, you know."

Erick's gaze went again to his son. "Yesa"of course."

"Then I can do ita"I can become a Companion!"

"No," said Rimon gently. "Using secondary positions, you can never have that kind of control. But at least I can take your field down, and perhaps with a little training and discipline, you'll stop disrupting every Sime you come near."

"Then I could still help you, Pa! I can ride! I can help herd the horses." But Owen was more subdued now, desperately clinging to the day's gains.

"Del, come on inside, and I'll give you your transfer now. Thena"Owen, I've got two more people waiting, and then you and I have some work to do together.''

Owen and Zeth were left alone. Owen turned away from Zeth, crying with renewed frustration.

"Owen, n.o.body got hurt." Zeth tried to rea.s.sure his friend. "You can learna""

Owen turned on him furiously. "You couldn't feel it. It was beautiful. I was doing something not just useful, but . . . there aren't any words!" He took a deep breath and tried again. "Pa was in need. I wanted to helpa"and I could! Zetha"I could have given him transfer, I know I could."

Over the next few days, Zeth's father worked with Owen until finally one afternoon he did take Owen's field down, When Owen came back to their room, Zeth said, "How did it feel?"

"I didn't feel a thing," said Owen disgustedly. "Now he wants me to work with Uel Whelan, learning not to affect Simes. But you know what? I'm going to prove I can give a real transfer!"

"But why? You're donating nowa""

"Zeth, when I'm near someone in need, I want to ease that need so bad my whole body goes weak inside! And air they want me to do is turn myself off!"

This was a side of Owen Zeth had never seen before. It seemed to be a healthy side, and as Owen took hold of his life again, Zeth thought his punishment was over.

One bright early-summer day, Owen was working beside Zeth, the other children, and several of the community's Gens, picking strawberries. He tucked a basket into a sling Jana had rigged for him, and picked berries almost as fast as Zeth and Jana. It was a glorious day, with fluffy white clouds high in the brilliant blue sky. The smell of berries was intoxicating, and the children ate almost as many as they put into their baskets.

Zeth moved along in pursuit of the biggest, reddest berries, and suddenly looked up to find that he had drifted away from Owen and Jana, to where Kadi Farris and Trina Morgan were sorting through the berries, choosing the largest, sweetest ones to be eaten fresh, and putting the others aside for jam-making.

Strawberry season was a time for Gens and children. The luscious berries were poisonous to Simes, who stayed away from the kitchen these few days.

As Zeth emptied his overflowing basket into his mother's tray, Trina was saying, "They're guarding us again. Looka" Tom Carson's up on top of the hill."

"Well, we do have all these Gens running around free and acting like people."

"We are people!" Trina said.

"Not by law," said Kadi. "Our pet.i.tion to count Gens as citizens scares people. Slina says that's why we were raided."

"You think we should stop pet.i.tioning?"

"If it were only myself, I'd be tempted to stop," Zeth's mother replied. "It's never made any difference between Rimon and me that by law I'm his property. But what about Zeth?" She reached out and gave him a little squeeze. "My son will probably be Sime, but suppose he's Gen? I want him to have full legal protection."

Zeth worked his way back to where the children were picking strawberries and singing while Owen, whose voice was changing, whistled a merry accompaniment. He sounded so happy that Zeth joined in the song, off key as usual. Owen was soon laughing so he couldn't whistle, and told Zeth, "Hus.h.!.+ You'll sour the strawberries!"

"You're in a good mood," Zeth observed.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Owen glanced around, making sure no one else could hear over the singing. "You know what, Zeth? It's a whole lot better to be Gen than to be Sime."

"Owen, it doesn't mattera""

"But it does! Oh, Simes can zlin, but Gens can use it against them. I can make a Sime laugh or cry, make him feel wonderful or terrible. Channels are only a little harder. I almost got Uel Whelan into a transfer this morning."

"Owen! Even if you can, you shouldn't. Mama wouldn't do anything like that, or any of the other Companions."

"Well, I've got to prove I can be a Companion. They're not going to let mea"" He looked past Zeth and said, "Uh-oh."

Zeth turned and saw Abel Veritt coming across the strawberry field, headed straight for Owen.

When he arrived, he asked conversationally, "Are the berries good this year?"

"Very good, sir," replied Zeth.

"I remember picking strawberries when I was a boy. Owen, you're getting along well, I see."

"Yes, sir."

"I've come to talk to you about something very serious, Owen. Are you happy here?"

"Wella"yes, sir."

"You want to stay?"

"Yes, sir." Owen was getting nervous.

"Mr. Farris and Mr. Whelan have asked me to talk to you. Every Sime in Fort Freedom knows the mischief new Gens cause when they discover their effect on Simes. We also expect this to be a phase that pa.s.ses quickly."

"I didn't mean any harm, sira"I'm sorry for the headache I gave Jord, and the time I made Mrs. Veritt laugh so hard."

"It seems you don't know your own strength. Only Mrs. Farris has a higher field than yours, but her field is always carefully controlled. Uel Whelan tells me he had to work with his Companion for almost an hour this morning before he could go on with his dutiesa"after you raised his intil. You did that on purpose?''

Owen hung his head. "Yes, sir. I would have followed through if he'd asked me to serve him. I wanted him toa"you don't know what it's likea""

Veritt smiled grimly. "I have a fair idea, Owen. But if you're nota"satisfieda"here, if you can't adhere to our standards of good manners, I'll arrange a Farewell Ceremony and send you into Gen Territory. You know the language. You can make a good life for yourself.''

"No!" Owen cried, and Mr. Veritt moved back a step, wincing. Owen immediately calmed. "This is home," he said. "Paa"Janaa"everyone I care about is here. I'll behavea" honest. Don't send me away, Mr. Veritt!"

In the past, Fort Freedom's Gens had been sent to a town built by other Gens from Fort Freedom, across the border in Gen Territory. But for years now, most of the Gens had stayed to donate selyn.

"Very well, Owena"but my offer remains open. If life here doesn't suit youa"we'll see you safely across the border."

As he left, both boys knew he meant that life was hard enough for Simes without a Gen who made a child's game of enticing them.

"It's not fair," said Owen.

Zeth ached for his frienda"cut off from the experience they had all dreamed about. How would I feel in his place? And he knew his job was not over.

Chapter 3.

Midsummer brought plans for two celebrations. In Zeth's family, it was his eleventh birthdaya"a Gen tradition, the celebration of birthdays, but Fort Freedom deliberately maintained both Sime and Gen customs just as it maintained both languages.

The other celebration was a community-wide conspiracy: a fiftieth birthday celebration for Abel Veritt. In Gen Territory that might not be a particularly long life, but Zeth's father speculated that Mr. Veritt might be the oldest Sime who ever lived.

Three days before his birthday, Zeth was doing his morning ch.o.r.es when Mr. Veritt rode up to the New Homestead. By the time Zeth went in to breakfast, Mr. Veritt was seated at the table with Zeth's parents, drinking tea. Rimon said, "You don't have to put yourself through this again, Abel."

"No, Rimon. I've told all the others, and I'll tell Zeth. It's my duty until there is nothing left to tell." He smiled. "Perhaps not long now. I managed seven months this timea" and then transfer with Hank two days ago. This timea"" He broke off, but Zeth understood.

The Simes who had killed for years, before Rimon Farris found a way for them to stop, had to have direct Gen transfer every so often. Hank Steers always provided transfer for Abel Veritt, for he had lived with the Veritts when he first carne to Fort Freedom, and was like another son to them.

Now Mr. Veritt said, "Zeth, I'm going to take you away from your ch.o.r.es today. One more lesson, and your changeover training will be complete."

"Yes, sir," said Zeth. He had known it was coming. Eleven natal years was the youngest changeover his father had ever heard of; therefore every child in Fort Freedom was thoroughly trained before his eleventh birthday. Whatever he was to learn today was very adult and very sobering. He remembered Owen, and later Jana, returning from the final lesson with solemn, still faces.

They rode through town, and out beyond the Old Homestead. Mr. Veritt reined in atop the hill that overlooked Gen Territory. "It is many years," he said as they got down from their horses, "since we sent one of our children down that trail in a Farewell Ceremony. But you must know, Zeth, that if you are Gen, if you choose, we will send you across with our blessings."

"I won't be Gen," said Zeth. "I'll change over before autumn."

"Zeth!" Mr. Veritt said reprovingly. "You don't know that."

"Yes I do!" the boy protested, for somehow he did know.

"You must not presume. Your father thinks you will be Sime and a channel. Indeed, we pray for it, as we must have more channels. But no one can know G.o.d's will before the event."

Zeth had never been more certain of anything, but he decided not to argue further. "If I am Gen, Mr. Veritt, I'll stay and be a Companion like Mama.''

Mr. Veritt nodded. "I'm sure you would. However, you must know that the choice is open. Zetha"you are unique. You're the only child in Fort Freedom of your age. I have always brought three or four children here before. It is a bitter secret I must confess to you, Zeth Farris."

". . . Confess?"

They sat down on a shady rock, the horses wandering away to crop the dry gra.s.s. It was a still day, the only sounds the movement of the horses and some insect noises. Zeth stared down the trail, where some distance down the hill was the border between Sime and Gen Territories.

Mr. Veritt seemed to read Zeth's thought. "Do you know what marks the border between the Territories?" he asked.

"Fear," Zeth replied. "If we could remove fear between Simes and Gens, there'd be no borders."

"Yes," said Mr. Veritt, "that's right. However, I meant the question literally. The border crossing on that trail before you is marked by a gravea"the grave of a martyr."

"I know," said Zeth. "Jon Forester." He had seen the name on the Monument in the chapel to all who had died to make it possible for Simes and Gens to live together. The most recent name was Ten Layton's.

Jon Forester had died the same way Teri had: a Gen still learning to be a Companion, not yet able to avoid panicking when touched by a killer Sime. Jon Forester, though, had not been killed by some raiding stranger, but by Abel Veritt's own son, Jord.

"You know the story," said Mr. Veritt, "and you know what we learned from Jon Forester's death."

"The test," said Zeth. "If a Sime has killed, even once, like the ones who come to us from Gen Territory, they can go a few months without killing, but then they reach a crisis. They want to kill. It seems they need to kill, that transfer from a channel or Companion isn't enough."

Mr. Veritt nodded. "You've learned your lessons well."

"That one? I've heard it every day of my life. Dad's really scared I'll kill. He thinks I'll be like him, but there won't be a Gen like Mama to give me transfer. He's making me watch Bekka Trent." Bekka had changed over in Gen Territory, and killed in First Need, but her desperate flight had brought her across the border at Ardo Pa.s.s, where Del Erick had found her and brought her to Fort Freedom less than a month ago. Such Simes were welcomed at Fort Freedom, as they were willing to go through almost anything never to kill again.

"The young ones," said Abel. "Yes, they go through agonies and come out purified, the kill burned forever from their souls."

"Well, I'm not going through that," said Zeth with a shudder. "I'll do whatever Dad tells me." He studied Mr. Veritt. "Is that what this is about? I know I've disobeyed sometimes, but I'm sure not gonna take the chance I might kill someone!"

Sadly, Mr. Veritt said, "No, Zeth. What I must tell you concerns those of us who had been killing every month for years, before your father learned to be the channel of life force between Sime and Gen. I was the first, Zeth. To save my life, Rimon Farris first transferred selyn to a Sime."

"I know," Zeth whispered. He remembered being brought in afterwarda"the crowded room, the atmosphere of rejoicing, his vow to be a channel. The first time he had vowed it, a very small boy caught up in a moment that changed history. "I was there," he said. "I remember the way you lookeda"I guess I'll never forget. When I was a little kid, and used to picture G.o.d like a person ... I pictured you, except sort of mixed up with my dad."

Heeling pain played over Mr. Veritt's features. "We set ourselves up for that, we who take on the spiritual leaders.h.i.+p of a community. I felt the same way about my father. He was the minister of our church, many years ago."

Zeth knew that Mr. Veritt had come from Gen Territory, fleeing across the border just as Bekka Trent hada"but back then there was no Fort Freedom to welcome him, and in his despair he had fallen in with Freehand Raiders. But instead of launching into the familiar tale, Mr. Veritt said softly, "I killed my father, Zeth."