We stood linked, holding the pulsing power suspended. If the Terrans will not give us what we need and deserve, we can force them to it, we need not fear their bombs nor their blasters. Do they think we are barbarians armed with swords and pitchforks?
Clearly now, as the form of fire built up, I saw a woman, a sky-tall goddess clothed in flame, restlessly reaching to strike.
… fire raining on Caer Donn, smashing the city into rubble, starships falling like comets out of the sky …
Firmly Marjorie reached for control, like at one of those riding-exhibitions where a single rider controls four horses with one rein, bringing us back to the physical airfield. It shimmered around us, but it was there. The helicopter blades began to hum again, to turn with a clattering roar.
We need more power, more strength. For a moment I clearly saw my father’s face, felt the strong line of rapport. He had awakened my gift; we were never wholly out of touch. I felt the amazement, the fear with which he felt the matrix touch him, momentarily draw him in…. He was gone. Had never been there. Then I felt Thyra reach out with a sure touch and draw Kermiac within the circle as if he had been physically present. For an instant the circle expanded with his strength, burning brilliantly, and the helicopter rose easily from the ground, hung there quivering, rotors spinning with emphasis and force. I saw, I felt Kermiac crumple, withdraw. The lines of force went ragged . . . Kadarin and I locked hard together, supporting Marjorie as she controlled the wavering forces, lowering, lowering. . . . The helicopter bumped, hard, and the sound shattered the link. Pain crashed through me. Marjorie collapsed, sobbing. Beltran had seized Thyra by the shoulders, was shaking her like a dog shaking a rodent. He swung back his hand and slapped her full in the face. I felt—we all felt—the stinging pain of that blow.
“Vicious bitch! Damned she-devil,” Beltran shouted. “How dare you, damn you, how dare you—”
Kadarin grabbed him, pulled him from Thyra by main force. Beltran was still fighting, struggling. Cold terror clutching at me, I reached out for Kermiac. Uncle, have they killed you? After a moment, sick with relief, I felt his presence, a thread of life, weak, collapsed, but alive. Alive, thank God!
Kadarin was still holding Beltran off Thyra; he let him go, flinging him violently to the ground. He said, raging, “Lay a hand on her again, Beltran, and I’ll kill you with my own hands!” He hardly looked human at all now.
Marjorie was crying, trembling so violently I feared she would fall senseless. I caught and supported her. Thyra put a hand to her bruised face. She said, trying to be defiant, “What a fuss about nothing! He’s stronger than any of us!”
My fear for Kermiac had turned to anger almost as great at Beltran’s own. How dared Thyra do this against his will and Marjorie’s judgment? I knew I couldn’t trust her, damned sneaking bitch! I turned on her, still holding Marjorie with one arm; she shrank away as if from a blow. That shocked me back to my senses. Strike a woman? Slowly, lowering my head, I thrust the wadding around the matrix. This rage was ours. It was as dangerous as what Thyra did.
Marjorie could stand alone now. I put the matrix in her hand and went toward Thyra. I said, “I’m not going to hurt you, child. But what possessed you to do such a thing?” One of the strongest laws of every telepath was never to force another’s will or judgment….
The defiance was gone from her face. She fingered the cheek Beltran had struck. “Truly, Lew,” she said, almost in a whisper, “I don’t know. I felt we needed someone, and in days past this matrix had known the Aldarans, wanted Kermiac—no, that doesn’t make sense, does it? And I felt that I could and I must because Marjorie wouldn’t … I couldn’t stop myself, I watched myself do it and I was afraid….” She began to cry helplessly.
I stepped forward and took her into my arms, holding her against me, her face wet on my shoulder. I felt a shaking tenderness. We had all been helpless before that force. My own emotion should have warned me, but I was too distressed to feel alarm. The feel of her warm body in my arms should have warned me, too, at that stage, but I let her cling to me, sobbing, for a minute or two before I patted her shoulders tenderly, wiped her tears away and turned to help Beltran rise. He stood up stiffly, rubbing his hip. I sighed and said, “I know how you feel, Beltran. It was a dangerous thing to do. But you were in the wrong, too, losing your temper. A matrix technician must have control, must at all times.”