“Nathan hypnotized you?”
“Yes. Three times. He gave me about the same suggestions he gave you.”
“But for you, they worked.”
“So far. I’m weak, hungry—God, I’m hungry—but I’ve felt worse. And I probably feel better than you did eighteen or twenty hours in. I’m supposed to be in bed though.”
“I can believe that! Why aren’t you?”
He smiled thinly. “I wanted to talk to you while I could still make sense. Wanted you to know just how things stood between us and the Garkohn.”
“Who else knows?”
He grunted. “Neila’s been careful not to ask—which means she knows. Jacob knows. He even sat in on a couple of my sessions with Nathan. The Garkohn are getting bolder, ordering people around, spying more openly. Most people know something is wrong. I’ve had complaints.” He had been gazing off into space. Now he looked at Alanna. “I wanted you to know because you can deal with the Tehkohn. You’re the only one here who knows anything about them. I’m hoping you won’t have to do anything before my withdrawal is over, but I want you to be able to if necessary.”
“Does Jacob know you want that of me?”
“Yes. He doesn’t think much of the idea, but while I’m alive, he’ll obey.”
She did not want to talk or think of his dying, did not want to remember how easily it could happen during the next few days. He seemed to misunderstand her sudden pensiveness. He spoke softly.
“I know it’s a heavy responsibility, girl, and you’re just out of withdrawal. I’m sorry to have to…”
She got up and went to him, laid a hand on his shoulder. She had just been able to stop herself in time from touching his throat in the Kohn gesture of affection. “It’s a responsibility I had already accepted. You know it’s not the responsibility I’m concerned about.”
For a moment, there was silence. He covered her hand with his own in what first seemed to her an oddly Kohn response. But no. Some gestures were universal.
“Why don’t you go to bed now?” she asked.
He nodded, got up. But as he started away, she thought of something else. “Jules, what happened to the Tehkohn prisoners?”
He turned back. “Nothing. Natahk didn’t mention moving them even after Diut escaped.”
“Has anyone fed them?”
“We tried. They’ve refused to eat. No one has forced them.”
Alanna nodded. “Do you mind if I take them something?”
He looked at her strangely. “If you want to. If the Garkohn guards will let you.” As sick as he was, he was curious. The dangerous kind of curiosity. But he would not ask his questions. She spoke quietly.
“I know some of them, Jules. Some of them helped to make things easier for me when I was their prisoner. After my withdrawal, none of them were any more cruel to me than they were to each other. It wouldn’t be right for me to let them starve without trying to help.” Half truths. She wondered why she didn’t tell him her real reason for wanting to feed the prisoners—that if they were fuzzy-minded from hunger, even in their slightly weakened condition, they might do some unnecessary killing when they escaped. Missionary lives might be lost. But no. It was not yet time for him to know that they definitely would escape. She could not let him know that until Diut was ready. She would have to tell him something more though. His curiosity was clearly not satisfied. And now he was ready to ask questions.
“They treated you… well, Lanna, when they held you captive?”
“As well as could be expected, I guess. As long as I did as I was told.” Again, she was not telling the whole truth. But then, very little that she told him about herself and the Tehkohn could be wholly true.
“They didn’t…?” He struggled with the words and his struggle gave her warning of what was coming. She stood watching him coldly and feeling no inclination to help. “They didn’t rape you?”
“No,” she said. “They didn’t.” He would want to believe her and he would find a way to do so. He would not even have asked such a question if the Garkohn kidnappings had not forced him to consider the Kohn human enough to do such a thing.
“I haven’t wanted to ask you these things, Lanna.” He met her eyes sadly. “Perhaps because I was afraid of the answers you might give. It seemed so incredible that we found you alive. I just wanted to thank God that we had you back and let it go at that. But this damned Garkohn thing wouldn’t let me. It started me wondering…“He broke off abruptly. “It doesn’t matter.”
Obviously it mattered. How had he been able to give her charge of the settlement’s relations with the Tehkohn while he entertained such doubts? Or had he given her the responsibility in the hope that his apparent trust would touch her conscience and forestall any act of treachery? She finished his sentence for him. “Started you wondering whether or not you really did have me back.”
He accepted the accusation. “Do we, Lanna?”
“I was like a servant among the Tehkohn,” she lied softly. “Like a slave, really—the way you and Neila were on Earth in Forsyth. I had no blue in my coloring and thus no rank among them. They didn’t know quite what to do with me so they accepted me as a kind of interesting freak. They gave me whatever jobs they thought I could do. Other than that, they left me alone. I was an alien, an outsider.” She paused for a moment, watching him. “Please don’t make me feel as though I’m still an outsider, even here at home.”
He sighed, seemed to deflate, and she knew she had won at least temporarily. He came back to her and hugged her. “I’m sorry, girl. It’s the withdrawal. I’m not thinking clearly or it would never occur to me to doubt you.”
