Trickster

Ben gave himself a shake. Boy, you're in a mood, he thought. Go check on Kendi, see how he's doing.

And he let go of the Dream.

'You want a favor,' Harenn said. 'I can tell.'

Kendi blinked innocently at her from the medical bay door. 'How could you possibly know?'

'It is a psychic power found among all mothers. That, and you are holding something behind your back.'

With an unrepentant grin, Kendi produced a star-shaped piece of equipment and set it on the counter. Harenn instantly recognized the object as a small cryo-unit, though very old.

'What does it contain?' she asked.

'Silent embryos. Ben's brothers and sisters, to be specific.'

'Ah.' Harenn picked up the cryo-unit and examined it with interest. 'I have heard the story. I was unaware that Ben had… inherited the other embryos.'

'We want to take them out and raise them as our kids,' Kendi said, leaning one hip against the counter. 'One or two at a time.'

Harenn blinked at him. 'You wish to become parents? Congratulations! I think Ben would make a fine father.'

'Thanks,' Kendi said. 'We want to-hold it.'

'And what is it you wish me to do?' Harenn continued with a perfectly straight face. 'Be a host mother?'

'Nothing like that,' Kendi laughed. 'Though we'll have to address that issue eventually. What I'd like is a detailed gene scan. All we know about these embryos is that they're all healthy and they're all Silent. Ben says he and Ara never ran any other tests on them, but you could perform a few, couldn't you?'

'What sort of tests do have in mind?'

'See if there are any matches in the databases that might tell us who the parents are or where they came from. Or even how old they are. Whatever you can come up with.'

'Genetic scans will not tell me their relative ages, unless the gene patterns are from an extinct group. Still, this is an interesting mystery. I will see what I can do.'

Kendi thanked her and turned to go, then turned back. 'Harenn, do you think I'm ready to be a father?'

'No,' Harenn said.

'What? Why not?'

'No one is ever truly ready to become a parent,' Harenn said with a small smile. 'Even those who think they are. Parenthood is too powerful, too unique to each individual. So I do not think you are ready. But I think you will learn quickly and I think you will learn well.'

'Oh. Thanks. I think.'

'I will run your tests as soon as I have a chance,' Harenn told him.

'Thanks for that, too.' With a wave, he left. Harenn looked thoughtfully at the empty doorway for a moment, then stared for a long time at the cryo-unit.

A small snip, and a tiny hole opened in the fabric covering Martina's index finger. Martina held her breath, waiting for some kind of shock or even an alarm. Nothing. Martina set the scissors down with an internal sigh of relief and shot Keith a brief glance.

Martina was worried about her brother. It was hard not to stare at him over the pile of robes, even though staring at a member of the opposite sex created more N-waves and would earn her a warning shock. Keith was bent industriously over his work, the needle dipping swiftly in and out of the fabric. His depression seemed to have vanished entirely, which was why Martina was worried.

The other Alphas sat in a circle on the hard floor, their legs swathed in piles of yellow fabric. There was no conversation, just the rustle of cloth, the snip of scissors, and the occasional low murmur from a Delta pointing out flaws. The Alphas wore special gloves, thinned for the extra sensitivity required for sewing.

How long had she and Keith been here? Martina had no idea. Whenever she tried to keep track of the time, something happened to make her reckoning slip away. Sleep cycles were irregular. Sometimes Martina and the other Alphas were kept awake for so long, they were collectively ready to pass out on the floor. Some began to hallucinate. Other times Martina knew they couldn't possibly have been awake for more than a few hours before being sent to bed. Sleep time, when it came, was always too short. Martina had no way of knowing for sure, but judging from her level of fatigue, she and the others weren't getting more than five or six hours of sleep at a time.

Food was another problem. At first it had been fairly plentiful, if heavy on the protein. Lately there had been less, and mealtimes were also irregular. Martina was almost never full. Every so often, the Deltas handed out sweet snack cakes, and the unaccustomed sugar sent Martina soaring-until she crashed back to earth a few minutes later. She craved starchy foods almost constantly. Bread slathered with butter, mashed potatoes swimming in gravy, pasta peeking out from heavy tomato sauce, and even plain boiled rice danced in her dreams and made her stomach rumble.

Days-if they could be called that-were spent in a variety of ways. The Alphas spent a great deal of time in mind-numbing labor such as hand-stitching robes or scrubbing floors with stiff brushes or washing clothes in great tubs. Other times the Alphas sat through meditation exercises, though these came easily to Martina and the other experienced Silent. A certain amount of time was set aside for study, mostly of Dreamer Roon's book. The more Martina read of his work, however, the more convinced she became that the man had no idea what he was talking about. His stories about Irfan Qasad and Daniel Vik were ludicrous. True, no one questioned the fact that Vik was one of the greatest fiends in all history. After all, the man had been a blatant racist who had kidnapped his own child away from his wife, collaborated with terrorists, and done his best to wipe all Silent from the face of Bellerophon. But Martina seriously doubted that the taint of his genetic material coursed through the bodies of all Silent, causing their impure N-waves. For one thing, Martina herself had been born before the founding of the Bellerophon colony and couldn't possibly be touched by the 'taint' of Daniel Vik. The same applied to Keith, for that matter.

And then there was the Confessional. Martina hated it. Every moment she sat in the chair listening to Alphas and Deltas shout 'Impure' at her was pure torture. She told herself over and over that there was nothing wrong with her, that she was not impure, that the peccadillos they wrung from her were nothing more than normal human behavior. Lately, however, she left the Confessional feeling wrung out, exhausted, and filthy. If the circle was supposed to cleanse her, it was failing miserably. Martina had considered mentioning this to Delta Maura, but had almost as quickly decided against it. Something told her that confessing any such thing in this place would be a fatal error.

But Keith appeared to be loving it.

Through the little snatches of conversation she had managed to steal with him, Martina had gathered that Keith wasn't completely well on a mental level. His previous owners had apparently been hard on him, and there were… other factors.

Martina stole a glance across the sewing circle at Keith. His forehead was wrinkled with concentration as he worked. His Delta leaned down and put a gloved hand on his shoulder. Keith stiffened and momentary touch of fear crossed his face. The expression was familiar, and a long-buried memory stirred within Martina. All at once she was back on the slave ship, still shivering with cold leftover from cryo-sleep. A slaver named Feder was herding her family down a long corridor that smelled of cold metal. The Weavers-Dad, Mom, Evan, Keith, and Martina-were the last ones to leave the colony ship, and Feder stayed right behind them. The new slave shackles were heavy on Martina's wrist and ankle.

Feder, a dark-haired man with a long nose and thin lips, put his hand around Keith's shoulder as they walked. Keith tried to shrug him off, but Feder only tightened his grip. The smile that crossed his face made Martina feel cold and scared inside. She wondered how Keith felt.

'What's the matter, kid?' Feder asked. 'You don't like friendly people?'

Before Keith could respond, Dad's hand shot out and grabbed Feder's wrist. 'Don't touch my son,' he said in a low, deadly voice.

Feder's free hand darted to his waist. Dad collapsed the floor, screaming in pain. His bands glowed blue. Mom dropped beside him, wanting to help but not knowing what to do. Martina stared with wide eyes, scared and uncertain. She had never heard her father scream like that. Evan began to cry, and Keith looked dazed. Dad's screaming continued for a long time, then abruptly stopped. The blue glow on his bands faded.

'Touch me again, you bastard,' Feder told Dad in a voice that carried up and down the passenger bay, 'and I