wearing off. Soon she would have to return to the Dream, and from there to her body. Was it proper to tell the Empress this? Or was Ara expected to hang on until her mind was sucked back through the Dream and into her body? That would saddle her with a disorientation that might confine her to bed for days.
“I’m nervous, Mother Adept,” the Empress said. “Brother Kendi claims he has felt this child reach through the Dream to possess other minds, willing or not. Such a child would have the power to topple empires, including this Confederation. What if this child possessed me? Or another ruler? The balance of power between the Independence Confederation and its neighbors is delicate. One mistake could mean war.”
“Anyone would know instantly that you had been possessed, Imperial Majesty. The child would not have your knowledge or experience. It would be impossible-”
“We always thought it was impossible for the Silent to possess any but another willing Silent,” the Empress pointed out. “Who knows what else this child can do? What if the wrong people gain control of this child?” She paused. “I’ve been thinking, Mother Adept, and and I’ve decided that the safety of this Confederation is more important than the chance to…study this new form of Silence.”
“Imperial Majesty?”
The Empress sank back to her cushions, though everyone else remained standing. Her regal face was blank as stone. “If, in your opinion, this child would pose a threat to the Independence Confederation, I want you to destroy it.”
“Impossible!” Ara blurted. Then she flushed. “I mean, I don’t-that is-”
“I know, Mother Adept,” the Empress said gently. “I understand.”
Ara gathered her wits. “Imperial Majesty, I haven’t so much as struck another person since I was a child. How could I-”
“It’s no easy thing,” the Empress agreed. “But it may be necessary.”
Ara opened her mouth to protest again, etiquette or not. Then she noticed the hard brown Imperial eyes upon her. Those eyes represented over fifty billion lives. Thousands of those lives could be extinguished if someone made a bad decision. Millions of them would end if someone declared war. Ara snapped her mouth shut. One life against so many. The Empress met her gaze, let her look. After a long moment, Ara swallowed.
“Yes, Imperial Majesty,” she whispered.
“Thank you, Mother Adept,” the Empress said. Her voice was tired. “I have laid an onerous duty on your shoulders, and I take responsibility for the child’s death, if it comes to that. You are but the scalpel that does the bidding of the doctor.”
“Yes, Imperial Majesty.”
The Empress nodded. “I’m sure you need to return to your body, Mother Adept.”
A dismissal. Ara bowed and knelt on the cushion. As she let go of the slave’s body, the Empress spoke again.
“If you have trouble making this decision, Mother Adept,” she said, “think of this: what would happen if the general populace learned of a Silent who could control the unwilling and non-Silent?”
Ara found herself back in her garden. The slight dizziness was accompanied by a terrible chill. The desire to return to her body was growing steadily, but that need didn’t shut out the Empress’s last words.
What would happen…?
Ara shivered. On most Confederation worlds, the Silent were either monks in the service of Irfan or slaves in the service of the Empress. On other worlds, the Silent were treated as potential threats and hunted down with ruthless efficiency. On still other worlds, the Silent were tolerated or even respected-as long as they kept their place. True, there were equally as many worlds on which the Silent were treated the same as other “normal” professionals, but even in these places, Ara always felt a measure of underlying mistrust.
What would happen if the general populace learned of a Silent who could control the unwilling and non- Silent?
Ara knew the answer. Riots. Witch hunts. Executions.
It had happened before, had been happening since the time of Irfan Qasad. Ara had been lucky, and she knew it. On Bellerophon, Ara’s homeworld, Silence was considered a holy blessing, and most Silent ended up with the Children of Irfan. Their major striving was to train the Silent in the use of their gifts and to ensure that they followed ethical practices. Most stayed with the Children after completing their training. They taught or researched or administrated or performed the intersystem communication work that kept the order solvent.
After the discovery of slipspace, they also recruited.
Slipspace granted easy travel to non-Confederation worlds, letting the Children seek Silent who had been sold or were being persecuted or had remained ignorant of their gifts. Ara herself had bought and freed nearly three hundred slaves and outright stolen dozens of others.
The tickle nudged her again. Ara was about to leave the Dream when something landed at her feet with a splat. It was a pear, one so rotten it had turned black. Several other dotted the ground.
What in the world? Ara thought. She looked up at the tree above her. Every pear was rotting on the branch. So were the oranges in the other trees. She stared. The hunger to return to one’s body often interfered with the concentration necessary to hold a Dream world together, but she had never experienced anything like this.
A roar boomed across the garden. Behind the wall rose a terrible monster with green skin and long fangs. It stepped over the wall with another roar and reached for Ara with a clawed hand.
“Hello, Kendi,” she said amiably. “Did you do the pears, too?”
The monster melted and vanished, leaving a wide-eyed koala bear in its place. Kendi emerged from behind a tree. He was wearing the linen shirt and trousers Ara usually conjured for him. The koala sniffed at the rotten pear.
“Didn’t even faze you, huh?” Kendi said, reaching down to scratch the koala’s ears.
“No. It was a good monster, though.” She nudged the pear with a toe. “Well?”
Kendi looked down. “Not me. I noticed it earlier, though, and figured I’d better come back after my sister-” he gestured at the koala “-lead Gretch to the Rustic Silent.”
Ara stared at the trees and concentrated. She expected sweet oranges and firm pears. This was her Dream, and by Irfan she would have them. Nothing happened.
The ground dropped away. Ara lost her balance and fell several feet. Her breath slammed out of her lungs when she hit. The earth thundered beneath her and a thousand cracks tore the garden wall.
“Kendi!” she shouted.
“It isn’t me!” he yelled back. “What the hell is-”
A pit yawned beneath him and he vanished with a shriek.
“Kendi!” Ara lunged for him, but he had already disappeared. A brown blur of movement leaped into the darkness. A moment later, the falcon, grown impossibly large, rose on laboring wings from the pit. Kendi hung by one arm in her talons. The ground vibrated, and clumps of earth dropped into the depths. Ara grabbed Kendi’s free arm and helped the falcon haul him to solid ground. The moment his weight left her, the falcon flashed back to normal size and fled to the skies with a defiant scream. The earth continued to rock and rumble under their feet, making it a struggle to keep their balance.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Kendi gasped. Ugly welts and scratches marked his arm. Psychosomatic memory would carry them over into his real body. If he had fallen into the pit, his body would have perished with his mind.
“Where’s Gretchen?” Ara asked. “Is she safe?”
“She’s that way,” Kendi gestured. Gretchen’s exact location instantly came from Kendi’s mind into Ara’s, even though the words she “heard” were vague and imprecise. Quickly she grabbed Kendi’s wrist.
“Mother, wait!”
But Ara had already moved them both. A wooden deck popped into existence beneath them. Cool, crisp air washed over Ara, filling her nose with the scent of salt and sea. White sails creaked above them. Beside her, Kendi’s Dream form wavered like a bad hologram, then snapped into focus. He fell retching to hands and knees. Ara looked around. Although the ship was moving steadily up and down, everything looked stable. Kendi continued to retch.
“You aren’t really sick,” she said. “It’s all in your head.”
“Thanks for the sympathy,” Kendi said, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.
“What’s going on?” Gretchen asked. She stood behind them at the helm, the giant spoked wheel held loosely
