would kill anything that harmed her. There's more.
More what?
/ opened my mind to her, sending brief bursts of images from my own past. I had never revealed myself to another with such candor, and 1 was not sure if she would even comprehend my motive for doing so. I found I did not care—even if it meant nothing to her, I wanted to show her my life, everything about me.
This is who I am. This is what I was.
J thought of the first planet on which my parents had
left me. There had been no sapient inhabitants, so I had
spent several days alone, acting recklessly, injuring my
self as I looked for my mother and father, even though I
knew they had taken the ship and left me there. If I kept
looking, my younger self reasoned that I would find them,
and not have to face the prospect of living and dying
alone on that barren world.
My parents had been very disappointed when they returned several days later. I had fallen ill, and nearly died from the fever and an infected wound on my leg. The contempt they had felt as they repaired the damage and brought me back to health had been only too clear.
I had been even more terrified while enduring my trial of discipline on Tarvasc. I made her see that, watch the first time an examiner had slashed the back of my hand with his blade. The many weeks of hunger and punishment that followed had purged me of my youthful insubordination, and tempered me into an obedient child. My parents had never had cause to complain about my behavior again.
1 wanted to show her everything I had experienced over my lifetime. I began sending a continuous stream of memory, all the worlds and beings I had encountered until the Hsktskt had taken me from Svcita and enslaved me.
1 did not show her everything, however. 1 kept from her my years in the arena; I did not want her to see that thing that I had become on the killing sands. How I had suffered, and what they had done to me. How it had changed and shaped me into the man I had become. Perhaps some
day 1 would tell her, but not now. Not until I was assured of her loyalty to me.
Let—me—go.
She still resisted me, and I could feel something growing inside her mind—she was reaching for her own, unused mental resources. That alarmed me, for if she used them incorrectly, one or both of us could end up with brain damage.
Although it was like tearing a wound in myself, I ended the linkhold.
And I, finally Jam again, fell into the shadows past all memories.
"She's regaining consciousness. Scanner."
I opened my eyes to be momentarily blinded by a piercing light. The familiar odors of antiseptic and sterile solution told me where I was. I tried to shade my face with my hand to see why, but my arms were restrained. So were my legs.
"Brain wave activity returning to level function," a female said. "Vitals are stabilizing, Senior Healer."
I opened my eyelids to slits until my pupils adjusted to the light. I had been placed on a critical-care berth in the isolation room next to Dapvea Adan's. The Omorr stood over me and moved a scanner over my head.
"Am I injured?" I felt no pain, and no sluggishness from drugs.
"Apparently not." Squilyp lifted the instrument to study its display screen. He did not appear happy with the results.
I turned my head to see two nurses and Reever standing beyond them. "Was the ship attacked? How did this happen?"
"The ship is safe. You've just come out of a coma," the Senior Healer said, sounding testy. "We don't know why it happened."
I tucked my chin in to look down at myself. I was in a patient garment and full limb restraints. "How long was I in the coma? Why do you have me tied to the berth?"
"You were comatose for approximately seventeen hours. We restrained you .. . for safety reasons." The Omorr released the straps that had immobilized me. "Tell me what you remember."
I easily recalled what had happened between me and Reever, and the unpleasant effects while the ship made the interdimensional jump. The dream
More what?
/ opened my mind to her, sending brief bursts of images from my own past. I had never revealed myself to another with such candor, and 1 was not sure if she would even comprehend my motive for doing so. I found I did not care—even if it meant nothing to her, I wanted to show her my life, everything about me.
This is who I am. This is what I was.
J thought of the first planet on which my parents had
left me. There had been no sapient inhabitants, so I had
spent several days alone, acting recklessly, injuring my
self as I looked for my mother and father, even though I
knew they had taken the ship and left me there. If I kept
looking, my younger self reasoned that I would find them,
and not have to face the prospect of living and dying
alone on that barren world.
My parents had been very disappointed when they returned several days later. I had fallen ill, and nearly died from the fever and an infected wound on my leg. The contempt they had felt as they repaired the damage and brought me back to health had been only too clear.
I had been even more terrified while enduring my trial of discipline on Tarvasc. I made her see that, watch the first time an examiner had slashed the back of my hand with his blade. The many weeks of hunger and punishment that followed had purged me of my youthful insubordination, and tempered me into an obedient child. My parents had never had cause to complain about my behavior again.
1 wanted to show her everything I had experienced over my lifetime. I began sending a continuous stream of memory, all the worlds and beings I had encountered until the Hsktskt had taken me from Svcita and enslaved me.
1 did not show her everything, however. 1 kept from her my years in the arena; I did not want her to see that thing that I had become on the killing sands. How I had suffered, and what they had done to me. How it had changed and shaped me into the man I had become. Perhaps some
day 1 would tell her, but not now. Not until I was assured of her loyalty to me.
Let—me—go.
She still resisted me, and I could feel something growing inside her mind—she was reaching for her own, unused mental resources. That alarmed me, for if she used them incorrectly, one or both of us could end up with brain damage.
Although it was like tearing a wound in myself, I ended the linkhold.
And I, finally Jam again, fell into the shadows past all memories.
"She's regaining consciousness. Scanner."
I opened my eyes to be momentarily blinded by a piercing light. The familiar odors of antiseptic and sterile solution told me where I was. I tried to shade my face with my hand to see why, but my arms were restrained. So were my legs.
"Brain wave activity returning to level function," a female said. "Vitals are stabilizing, Senior Healer."
I opened my eyelids to slits until my pupils adjusted to the light. I had been placed on a critical-care berth in the isolation room next to Dapvea Adan's. The Omorr stood over me and moved a scanner over my head.
"Am I injured?" I felt no pain, and no sluggishness from drugs.
"Apparently not." Squilyp lifted the instrument to study its display screen. He did not appear happy with the results.
I turned my head to see two nurses and Reever standing beyond them. "Was the ship attacked? How did this happen?"
"The ship is safe. You've just come out of a coma," the Senior Healer said, sounding testy. "We don't know why it happened."
I tucked my chin in to look down at myself. I was in a patient garment and full limb restraints. "How long was I in the coma? Why do you have me tied to the berth?"
"You were comatose for approximately seventeen hours. We restrained you .. . for safety reasons." The Omorr released the straps that had immobilized me. "Tell me what you remember."
I easily recalled what had happened between me and Reever, and the unpleasant effects while the ship made the interdimensional jump. The dream
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