Chapter Four

ASHA
My eyes open to Seamus' smile and Bastian's words. I seem to have fallen asleep in their laps.

“Asha. Should start the feed pretty soon.”

Elene is just walking in from the kitchen with a large pot of tea to refill all our mugs. She brewed it stronger than usual because they all know how tired I am after my first day of classes.

I stretch and grimace as Seamus' knee digs into my spine. All four of us flinch at the sensation. I try to remember what feed Bastian is talking about.

Elene giggles. “You said you wanted to be kept up to date on politics, right? Well, there's a lawyer pushing to remove more of our rights, and start deporting the refugees we've given space here.”

“Figure that counts.” Bastian looks down at me.

I blink a few times to clear my head but Seamus pulls me into a sitting position because I will wake up more quickly that way.

“Maybe if you hadn't gotten into a fight with the instructor on your first day, you'd have energy,” Bastian says with a grin.

I sigh and force my brain to understand what he is referencing. It rises reluctantly from sleepfulness and brings the memory with it. Everyone already knew that it was not my fault. As soon as I got out of class we reconnected and they learned the entire story instantly. But keeps teasing me because he is not used to the idea of me causing trouble.

“Where's your knight in shining armor?” Seamus asks, trying to keep me awake.

I frown at him as I learn what he means. “He is upstairs doing homework.”

“Pshh. No wonder I can't feel him. Let me guess, he wants to do the work himself instead of just learning the material from us upperclassmen?”

I nod.

“Well, he should come down and celebrate with us! This was a big day for you!” Seamus tugs on my braid. Elene and I glance at one another and Bastian rolls his eyes.

“Are you two still fighting, Asha?”

I frown at him. He is thinking about what happened six weeks ago. “No. This is something new.” Nanda thought I had been too angry with my instructor today. He asked me after if I was sure I was ready for classes. That had made me angry, too. We had both been stupid after that.

“Just trying to keep you safe,” Bastian says in a quiet voice. His thoughts are dark, and for a brief moment I see the girl that haunts him so often. Wavy black hair, brown eyes, soft smile. Someone to protect. Someone he could not protect. My breath catches in my throat and Seamus grabs me by the hand reassuringly. Elene gives Bastian a quick hug and almost instantly his pain fades from us both.

“This doesn't seem like the party I was promised,” says a dry voice from the entryway. We startle and turn to look behind us.

“Reid, you really need to stop that!” Elene chides.

“What're you doing here?” Bastian glowers up at him and does not like the smile he is greeted with.

“Asha invited me over. Used her wristband and everything. You should be proud, Bastian!”

Bastian turns to me, but I shake my head. It is not worth talking about.

“Yes, it is. Upstairs, please.”

Reid moves to sit down but Bastian stands and blocks his way. They are the same height, but Bastian is far more muscular. Reid looks sapling slender beside him.

“Don't get comfortable.” He turns on his heel and heads for the stairs. I follow him with a frown. Out of the corner of my eye I see Reid sit on the cushion next to Seamus and begin talking.

Bastian pulls me to him by my forearm and glares down at me when we are at the top of the stairs. His fingers dig into my skin like Nanda's when he is frustrated with me.

“What do you think you're doing, inviting him here?”

“Bastian, let her arm go!” Elene shouts from downstairs. He releases me guiltily.

“I like him. He is lonely. He is easy for me to be around, and good practice for speaking.”

“He's a poison, Asha!”

I shake my head. “I trust him. I know you do not.”

“Anyone who shuts us out by force and pretends to be something he's not has something vile to hide.”

“Or does not want to admit how hurt he is.”

“Asha, he's trying to be like them.”

I stare up at his cold blue eyes and see flashes of people arc through Bastian's mind. A man on a shuttle in a suit with a thin mouth. He does not want to be there. With an empath. A dark, wavy-haired man with brown eyes and a mustache, yelling. Uniforms. Many men in uniforms. I had only seen so many people in Desmond's memories of war.

“I cannot hate them like you do, Bastian.” I tell him while I look down at the dark carpet lining the hallway and try to shut his images and emotions out. My fists are clenching.

“They hate you, Asha.”

“I am used to being hated.” The calmness of my reply surprises him.

He sighs and places a hand on my shoulder. “Really need to spend some time filling each other in on our pasts, don't we?”

I nod.

“Been wondering who the angry man with the dark eyes is. Never in your head long enough for me to figure it out,” he says gently.

I let him see. Dark eyes, dark skin, dark temper. Mama's husband. The father of my five brothers. My memories of him are full of shouting and blows and shame so strong that Bastian's shoulders twitch.

It is his turn to show me. “I would like to know about the girl with the pretty smile.”

Bastian's hand retracts as if my skin has suddenly become sun-touched metal and all I see is her name. Natalya. I want to hug him but I am not Elene. She tells me to change the subject.

“Please tolerate Reid, Bastian. For me.”

He sighs. “Long as you didn't invite Keven, too.”

I shake my head. “He spends too much time thinking about my hair loose.”

Bastian flips my braid over my left shoulder. “Got a lot of hair. Can't blame him for being curious. I'm curious!”

“It is different when he thinks about it.”

“He's a womanizer, Bastian,” Seamus calls up to us.

“Hope you're not talking about me,” I hear Reid mutter.

Nanda opens his door and stares at us both from under his messy hair. “What is going on?”

“Party!” Bastian shouts, grabbing Nanda by both shoulders and pulling him out of his room. “Come on down!”

“You are watching that feed,” Nanda says irritably and ducks out from under his arms and back to the door frame. “I have homework.”

“Nanda, this is important,” Bastian says impatiently.

“So are my studies.”

I move between them. “Come down, Nanda-ku.” Bastian hears me switch to our language and politely goes back to the rest of our friends. “I want to see you tonight, and I am sorry for yelling.”
He smiles and takes my hands in his but avoids looking at my eyes because he hates how well they blend in here. “Let me finish one thing and I will come down, Asha-na.”

I return to the living room and sit down between Seamus and Reid. Seamus throws an arm around my shoulders and Reid smiles faintly.

“How's my flute treating you?”

“What do you mean?” Elene and Seamus are amused by my confusion but Bastian is annoyed by the question.

He chuckles. “Sorry. No way that phrasing would make sense to you. How are you liking it?”

I smile. “Very much! I have been practicing every day.”

“May I hear you play it?”

“Not tonight. My fingers are sore from all the playing I did while waiting for Desmond.”

He has been late to all our lessons recently because of the work he is doing with the refugees. A dorm was cleared out for the families of the students and he has been fighting for another to be cleared for the sick, which he thinks should have been done first. We do not mind when he is late and have been careful not to tease him for it. His hair has been wilder than usual which Elene recently taught me means he is upset.

Reid nods at me. “Let me know when. I've got plenty of time.” He pauses, then adds carefully “Desmond knows about it, then? What'd he say when he found out I gave it to you?”

“I did not tell him it was from you,” I say softly. Seamus stiffens against me, and Elene's mind fills with shock.

Reid stares at me for a moment, then gives me a slow smile. “Don't tell me you lied.”

“I did.” The words are harder to say than I expected.

“How'd it feel?” Bastian's hands are clenched as tightly has he can manage by the time Reid has finished asking the question..

“I hated it.” Seamus relaxes against me and gives my back a reassuring rub.

“So why did you do it?” he continues.

“I did not want him to be angry at you.”

“Asha, why lie to protect him?” Bastian asks despite himself. Elene places a hand on his arm but he pushes it away.

My head starts to spin. Seamus gives Bastian a warning glare. “She's too tired for this, Bastian.”

He turns his rage on Reid instead. “You're a poison. Teaching her to lie.”

“Did no such thing.”

“Who else did it, then?” My hands begin to shake.

“Desmond did,” Reid replies. Everyone understands his logic and hates him for it. Bastian half-stands but Elene stops him with one arm. Reid gives him a wide smile.

“Bastian, look at her.” Their eyes find me and I realize I have dug my fingers into the cloth of Seamus' shirt so deeply that I have left runs in the weave. He does not care but the sight makes me angry and tired. “Your anger looks bad on her. Going to give her wrinkles if you keep this up. Ruin that pretty face of hers.” His voice fills me with disappointment.

“Seamus, the feed,” Bastian mutters.

“You think that will calm things down?” Seamus thinks Reid is trying to help this time but Bastian is already angry.

“Reid, if you don't stop right now, I'll—“ Bastian starts, but Elene makes an annoyed sound and stops his words with a kiss. Seamus and I feel both their emotions at once and my lips are almost on his before we find ourselves again. The tension fades from the room as soon as we understand how much Bastian is enjoying himself and how happy Elene is that his tongue is brushing against her lips. Seamus lets go of my hand a little too late to stop my sore fingers from aching more, and we look away politely.

“Was I the only one who didn't see that coming?” Reid asks after a moment.

“No, you weren't,” Elene giggles and points at Bastian. His face has turned a bright red color. I am worried he got sick until Seamus tells me he is blushing, which is what pale people do when they are embarrassed.

“I do not think I can blush,” I tell him.

“Want to find out?” Reid asks and leans in. As soon as I understand what he means from Seamus I am worried Bastian will get mad again, but instead everyone laughs. This does not make Reid happy.
.
“The feed, then.” Seamus presses a button on his wristband. The feed panel floods with light and is filled with the image of a tall, muscular man with long grey hair he has pulled back to the base of his neck. His face is angular like Keven's but his lips are fuller. Grey eyes. Before I can wonder where he was born Seamus mutters, “He's Kiranese. He has an empathic daughter, which makes this all even worse.”

“I'm not convinced opening our planet to any refugee that shows up in a shuttle is the most prudent course of action,” says the man on the screen. “We have a responsibility to all our citizens, including our non-empaths, and the economic burden of housing and feeding thousands of outsiders is not something we should be taking on without a vote. It's a violation of the rights of all Kiranese.” I cannot stop staring at his teeth.

“It sounds so sensible, doesn't it?” Elene mutters.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I can feel her hand in Bastian's before I see it.

“He's trying to pressure the Kiranese Parliament to re-deport all the refugees. He says the University's willingness to help them is 'insidious' and 'questionable.'”

“What is wrong with helping people?”

“Lots, if you go by what he says,” Bastian growls.

“What is his name?” My eyes lock on his teeth again as they flash between syllables and words. They reflect light. He has spent too much time watching himself talk in a mirror. Suddenly I wonder what I look like when I speak.

“Marcus Rayland. Third of a family of powerful, influential lawyers for the planet.”

“Why does he want the refugees out?”

“Worried we'll gain too much power, most likely,” Bastian replies.

We. Empaths. Nanda is standing on the bottom step and I feel his mind open to mine. He moves to sit at my feet and I wrap my arms around him out of habit. He takes my hands in his and leans against my knees. Reid watches us both with sharp eyes.

“He is a predator,” Nanda says softly.

“What?” Reid turns his eyes back to the panel.

“Look at the way he stands. He is attacking.”

“Get used to it, Nanda. People attack people out here in the civilized worlds.” Reid turns back to Nanda, but his mind is in too much turmoil to respond aloud. I tighten my arms about him and stifle a shudder as the lawyer's teeth flash again. Like the leopard springing from the undergrowth with open jaws. Claws on skin. I bring my hand to my shoulder.

“Turn it off,” Nanda mutters suddenly. Bastian's head turns in his direction and I feel suddenly irritated with Nanda. No. There are too many people and I am getting too tired to keep my emotions mine. Seamus gives me a focus and runs his hand along my back

“Nanda, you really should know about this,” Seamus says gently.

“I do,” he murmurs, pointing at me. The screen shuts off while the lawyer is in the middle of accusing Oceanus and Newearth of refusing to take on their equal share of refugees. My mind clears as quickly as the panel blackens.

“As if there's any room on Newearth for more people,” Reid mutters, and Bastian silently agrees. “They've reinstated the child limit laws again, and the government gives tax breaks to anyone who undergoes sterilization. None of this is uncommon knowledge.”

It is to me, but Elene is speaking, so I do not.
“My mother sent me a message yesterday. Oceanus is building several camps for the refugees, which can be modified into proper towns as things settle down. But building on my hometown takes months!” She thinks of rust and flooding, and of the great fish that occasionally eat the workers if they stray too far from the safety nets around the platforms. Elene's mind makes me fear water.

“It really is up to us here on Kiran,” Seamus says sadly. “At least for now. And he has to know that.”

“How're things here with our refugees, Seamus?” Reid asks.

“They're doing fine. I've had to stop accepting gifts for the help I give in the kitchens. I'm running out of room to keep them all.”

“I wish I could go with you,” I sigh. I've been saying it for six weeks, but the answer is always no from everyone.

“If you keep holding your own in classes, I'd say you were ready.” My glee infects him and he begins to talk faster like he does when he is happy. “There are several Natives in the camp that could use some help—none of the Native students here will have anything to do with them. They just stay in their dorm and refuse to help.”

Nanda shakes his head. He had spent some time talking to the other Native students during our fight, and was sad to discover he had little in common with them.

“I am not sure they would be happy to see me, Seamus,” I say carefully, but he laughs and shakes his head.

“These are Natives who left their planet willingly. Many of them are married to Midbarans and have half-breed children. They would love you!” he gives me another squeeze and I smile up at him.

“Desmond's been helping them a lot, according to Caroline,” Reid says. “Had no idea he was fluent in your tongue, Asha.”

I nod. “He has no accent. He lived on my planet for three years.”

Reid looks thoughtful. “Do you know when?”

“No, we never talk about it. Why?”

Elene shakes her head at him. “We agreed we'd drop it, Reid. Let Desmond have some privacy.”

“I want to know why he treats her differently.”

Seamus laughs loudly and pulls on my braid again. “Reid, isn't it obvious? Look at her! She's smart—keeps outdoing me at everything—funny, eager. Absolutely gorgeous!” His words make me feel embarrassed but Bastian tells me that I do not blush. Suddenly I understand why people here think my eyes are pretty instead of wrong. I like the me that lives in Seamus' mind.

Reid gives me a candid stare and falls silent. Elene takes the chance to change the subject. “I haven't seen Diane in days. Do we have any word on her parents?”
Seamus' mind and face grow dark. “No. We've no word at all. Caroline is beside herself. There have been scattered reports of piracy and other shuttle attacks, but we're beginning to think they got lost. The Midbaran government has been cramming empaths into anything they can, short range or long range. If they didn't have the proper transport...”

We all imagine her family drifting and dying at the same time. It feels wrong to speak. I pull Nanda closer. The image horrifies the others less because they have always known it was possible to die this way. I never thought when I was young and looking up at the night sky before I knew that the other planets even existed that mixed with all the flecks of light there could be corpses. If I had known that the night would have given me far less comfort.

Elene refills our tea and we all sip in silence.



REID
My wristband beeps in my ear, tearing me away from... whatever dream I'd been having. I open my eyes groggily and stare at the screen. Asha. A message from Asha. Never crossed my mind that her learning how to work the wristbands before learning to understand the passage of time would have such a negative impact on my sleep schedule. The sun isn't even up yet!

Breakfast at the trees? I will bring food and the flute and we can watch the sun rise!

Most of me wants to ignore her and go back to sleep, but I haven't seen her alone in weeks. The thought of spending time with her without Bastian lurking and waiting to shout is a pleasant one. I give her a reply and toss myself in the shower. The water drags me into consciousness.

How many months since she came here? Why's she still so interesting? Watching her morph into her own person has been amazing, sure, but she sends me into rages. The sane thing to do would be to stop interacting with her so I could regain my equilibrium. Should pick up my wristband again, tell her I'm busy, and avoid her from now on. Instead, I towel my hair off and get dressed, kicking my nightclothes into a nearby pile of dirty and clean laundry. I open the door and feel the chill of the hall. Still winter. Why am I spending time outdoors in wintertime? Asha's driven me insane.

Am rarely out this early, and the lack of other students or lights in the windows, is eerie. I feel alone, and I like the sensation less than I thought I would.

The sound of my old flute guides me through the trees like her singing did the last time I found her here. She smiles when she sees me. My pulse becomes awkwardly fast.

“You're lucky,” I say, sitting down with her on her ever-present catskin. “Don't wake up this early for just anyone.”

“Is it early?” she asks me, completely serious. “This is late for me. I thought I gave you enough time.”

“Feed me and I'll stop complaining. What've you brought?”

“Pancakes!” She says the word with a smile, digging a thermal container out of the pack she's dragged along. “Tea, and peaches. The syrup is also warm.”
Have to admit this is worth getting out of bed for. “I haven't had pancakes since—” I realize where that thought's going and cut myself off.

“Since your mother died,” she finishes quietly.

I stiffen .“How do you know that?”

“I have been getting bits and pieces recently. Of your thoughts. You remembered your mother cooking breakfast when the lawyer on the feed made you think about Newearth.”

“If I wanted you in my head, I'd let you in, Asha!” I snap, and feel a combination of pleasure and guilt as her expression turns sad.

“I am sorry. I thought I was doing a good thing.” She puts the pancakes down and looks up at the skeletal canopy, trying to hide her hurt. That's interesting; she never hides her emotions. A new development, but not one I really enjoy. Steam rises from the exposed pancakes and draws a wall between us in the silence. Soon I am guilty enough to apologize.

“If these pancakes are as good as my mother's, all's forgiven,” I pull a plate out of her pack and give myself a stack. They were pre-buttered. Did Elene help her with this, or did she do it on her own? She's grown a great deal in the past few weeks. Likely she's developed the ability to plan ahead.

Asha watches me out of the corner of her eye as I take a bite. My reaction is genuine: the cakes are amazing. “These are excellent, Asha! Who taught you how to make these?”

“No one,” she says with a smile. “I did a lot of cooking growing up. Once I got used to the machines it was easy. I got the recipe out of a reading on Newearth,” she adds.

“What'd you think about my homeland?” I ask between bites.

“It explains a lot about you and Bastian,” she says slowly. I raise my eyebrow at her and she giggles. “That is not bad! Things on Kiran are so different from everywhere else. Newearth is.... a bad place for empaths, I think.”

I nod. “Certainly felt that way. My sister and I were forced to go to an empath-only school, which was good for her. But me....” I trail off again.

She looks up at me. “That does not seem fair to you. Please do not take this the wrong way, but I do not think you are powerful enough to be treated like an empath. You miss out on so much since you only read one way.”

I laugh. “That's what I keep telling Caroline. Don't let her or Desmond hear you say that. They'll think I'm conditioning you.” The only thing that kept me going in school on Newearth was taking care of my sister, but I don't tell her that. Seems sad in retrospect that my entire life revolved around a sibling three years younger. But mother was busy with father, and father didn't know how to take care of his empathic children.

“Is Newearth really as dirty as the Kiranese authors say?” She asks after a moment.

I chew and think. “Most of it is. My father owned a farm out of the way of the cities, but he was rich. Cost a fortune to protect the grass from the rain.”

“Did you like the farm?” Her voice is barely audible now. She is worried about asking me personal questions.

“I hated it.”

“Why?”

“The horses scared me.”

Asha gives me a sober nod. “Horses scare me as well.”

I laugh and toss a peach at her. She catches it deftly. “Horses on your planet are easily half again the size of horses anywhere else. Of course you'd be afraid of them!”

She shakes her head. “No. I loved them, until they killed my brother Mani.”

“May I ask how it happened?” Don't know what's worse: how stiff I sound, or the fact that I care.

She looks at her hands and spins the peach a few times before answering. “He is the one who taught me how to ride the horses. We needed them for farming and building but everyone was afraid of them except for Mani. So the village put him in charge.” She trails off and falls over against the skin, shutting her eyes. “I was not afraid of them either, and he and I used to train them together. I could tell if they were upset or worried. The year he and I worked together at the paddock no one in the village was hurt.”

Her voice softens. “Then father got angry at me and would not let me go with Mani. That day something scared the horses. We heard loud noises and found—he had been trampled, and the paddock floor was covered in his blood. I felt him die,” she finished. “It hurt.”

Her honesty surprises me into silence. I eat more pancake to fill the space demanding I reply.

“My sister loved them. They never acted right around me, though,” I say at last.

She sits up and looks toward the horizon. Light is beginning to bleed over and wipe out the colors in the sky. I dig the other peach out of her pack before pouring us both mugs of tea. When I hand one to her, she smiles, and I feel self-conscious. She takes a thoughtful bite of peach.

“I still believe that if I had gone with Mani that day, I would have been able to tell them the horses were scared. After he died, I did not have anyone.” She sighs and eats the rest of her peach in silence.

I don't want to know more. Shouldn't ask. But there's something about her that seems so sad that I find myself caring anyway. “What about your mother?”

Asha takes a sip of tea. “Mama wasn't strong enough.” I wait, but in true Asha fashion, that's all she says. The sun is rising now, with clean, crisp light unlike what I am used to back home. It hits us at an angle, illuminating half her face as she gazes at me. She's sucking peach juice off her fingers, completely unaware that the action would normally be considered either provocative or impolite. Have the sudden urge to freeze her and keep her from changing more than she already has. To steal her away from Desmond so she doesn't turn into everyone else. Doubt the Asha a year from now will wake up, make pancakes, and watch the sun rise. That Asha will eat breakfast at home and wipe her hands clean with a napkin.

“Why are you sad?” she says, and I look away guiltily.

“I'm not,” I lie.

She shakes her head. “Your face says you are. I think you are lying to me.”

I smile and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You'd know all about that now, wouldn't you?” I realize what my hand is doing and jerk it away sharply, but she doesn't think anything of it.

“Now you are evading. Desmond does that.”

“Worried about what they're turning you into, if you want me to be honest.”

She blinks at me. “What do you mean?”

“Asha, are you happy?”

She points at the sunrise and doesn't respond. Amazing that something I found charming moments ago is so infuriating now.

“Are you?” she asks after another pause.

“If I'm honest, will you be?”

Was a stupid question: she narrows her eyes at me.

“No, I'm not happy. Do I seem happy to you?” I sound angry. Hope she can tell it's at me, not her.

Asha shakes her head and worries at her scar with her left hand. “I was hoping this would make you happy, but it does not seem to.”

I sigh. “Sorry. I'm a late riser, and I've never really liked being outdoors.” Much to my father's chagrin.

She falls onto the catskin again and hurls the pit from her peach at a nearby tree branch. It hits with a resounding crack and careens into the leaves several feet away. Birds make disgruntled sounds and take wing at the noise, leaving us entirely alone. I look down at her and am horrified to find her face damp. She's crying. Seen her cry plenty of times, but this is the first time I've been the cause. She sees me looking and stares up at me angrily.

“Asha...” I reach for her shoulder hesitantly. She twitches away.

“I do not. I do not know how to be with people here. Nanda will not spend time with me anymore and Elene has Bastian and I am lonely and I do not want to be but I do not, I do not! I do not know how.”
I wince as she finishes off her words with a strong punch to my chest. The pain is familiar: my sister used to act like this when she lost control. “Asha, I'm sorry. I came, didn't I? I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you badly enough to wake up early and come sit outside with you in the dark.”

She gives a quiet sniff and looks up at me, wiping her left cheek clean.

“I'm not good at opening up and talking to people. Can't be a surprise to you.”

“How am I supposed to get to know you if you shut me out of your head and also refuse to tell me what is in there?”

“That's kind of the point. I don't let people get to know me.”

She hits me again, but this time I grab her by the wrist. “Stop that!”

“You only feel human when you are angry, Reid.”

“Stop hitting me.”

“Why? You hurt me. It is fair.”

“Fine. Fine!” I let her hand go and glower down at her. Tempted to just get up and walk away, but I admire her tenacity. Most people try to befriend me and give up when I don't let them in, but she's been relentlessly spending time with me for weeks. Granted, that's likely because she's only now learned that her lack of progress should be frustrating to her, but it's still flattering .

“Ask me one question and I'll answer it honestly.” I lie back on the pelt beside her and shut my eyes.

“Anything?”

“Yes. Anything. I promise.”

Her breathing slows as she thinks, and the question comes to her much sooner than I expected. “How did your mother and sister die?”

Of course. “They were killed in a riot when I was fifteen.” My voice is carefully flat.

“A riot?” She is unfamiliar with the word. With a sigh, I lower my guard and let her into the memory. She gives a small gasp as she sees the angry throng of people in my head and feels the horror as I sit at home with my father in silence, watching the feed. Fearing the worst. Learning the worst.

“What-what caused your people to act like that?”

“Another anti-empath law was passed, banning us from more public offices. Several empaths got together to protest, and ended up getting seeded by passers-by. Got violent quickly, and spread to other empaths in the area before anyone knew what was going on. My mother and sister were in town shopping and got pulled in by all the emotion, I think. The police solved the problem by shooting at anything that moved. Couple of hundred people died.”

I open my eyes reluctantly and turn my head to find her crying again, but this time it's my emotion she's expressing, not her own. Looks less vile on her. She sees me looking at her and rolls over onto me, giving me an enormous hug. She's so small. Her skin against mine hurts, and I want to push her away. Instead, I hug her back. She's lost a brother. Left her planet to get away from something, otherwise she wouldn't be here. Whether or not I want to admit it, we've got a lot in common.

“How'd you know?” I ask, running my hand over her hair. She smells like some sort of flower.

She doesn't need me to elaborate. “You are hurt. Anyone who knows what it is like can see. Why do you think Seamus and Elene like you?”

“Actually, I've been wondering.”

“They understand. I understand.”

When Caroline says those words, I want to laugh in her face. When Asha says them, I want to cry. Hate them more when they come from Asha. My muscles grow tense and I shut her off again with ease. She wilts against me as we disconnect, but doesn't protest.

“We do not have riots where I come from,” she says after a moment, sliding off me and back onto the pelt beside me. “Everyone is empathic. I am not used to being feared. Only hated.”

“Hatred and fear are the same emotion, Asha.”

She frowns. “No, they are not.”

I shrug. She knows better than I do, No doubt of that. I look around us and try to regain some composure. The sun's fully up now, and there's a slight fog weaving in among the trees. My wristband says I've an hour until classes.

“Should probably head back, Asha. Let me help you pack.”

She helps me gather the remains of our breakfast in silence. As she stands to give me room to pick up the catskin, she asks me another question.

“Are you angry with me yet?”

“Angry with you?” I brush the fur side off and fold it in half.

“For making you open up. For learning so much about you and being close.”

I shake my head. “No. I'm angry at me.”

“For what?”

“Letting you in.” This time my honesty's meant to hurt her. I hand her the pelt and turn away without another word. She doesn't follow, but picks up my flute and starts playing again. Seems to have just accepted everything I've said to her. Anyone else would be hurt. The song she's playing is unfamiliar, but the notes make me angry, so I leave instead of listening to how good she's gotten.
By the time I get back to my dorm, I'm in the throes of a full-on rage. I slam the door behind me with enough force to make my hand sore, and then proceed to kick my laundry about the room. Once I collapse on the bed I'm out of breath, sweaty, and feel idiotic. But the anger is still there. Agreeing to see her had been a mistake. Why was I so honest? Why was I so nice? Do I like her that much?

My mind turns to Diane. Had never been like this with her. Diane was fun, but I'd never wanted to get to know her. I'd never told her anything about myself. And when she was out of sight, I hadn't missed her. She'd been useful, but she'd never been important.

I slam my fist into the mattress. Don't want to like Asha. And for once it's not because I want to shut everyone out. Opening up to her had been scary, but it had also felt good, because she'd been able to relate. Diane wouldn't have. Most anyone else at the University wouldn't have. The
problem isn't her at all, and that's what is making me so angry. Asha's making me be honest with myself. Something I absolutely despise doing.

Don't want to like her for her sake. She needs someone nice. Someone who knows how to be supportive. Someone who can help her become a decent person. Elene's teaching her how to care. Seamus is teaching her how to handle other people. Desmond's teaching her how to talk. And I?Bastian's words surface. I'm teaching her how to lie. He's right: I'm bad for Asha. My reasons for wanting to avoid her have been selfish up until now. I didn't want to bother to get to know her. But now, spending time with her is selfish. I need to stop. It 'll be better for her if I do. Bastian's a good guy with issues. He gets Elene. I'm a bad guy with issues. I get girls like Diane, or let my Teacher destroy her sense of self-worth by sleeping with me.

But her smell. Her eyes. The feel of her hair under my fingers. Her smile. I'll keep seeing her, even though I know I shouldn't.



DESMOND
My wristband beeps urgently at me as I make my way toward the refugee camp. It's the Admiral's office. The feeling this gives me is somewhat less than excellent.

“Doyle here,” I say crisply, moving to the side of the path. I suddenly doubt very much that I will be spending all morning with the Midbarans as I had planned.

“Admiral de Leon would like to see you, Officer.” It's the same assistant that I bullied last time.

“When?”

“Now.” If I didn't know better, I'd say this situation pleased her.

“Tell her I am on my way, then.”

The transmission ends there, and I turn around and begin walking to the administrative buildings, which are on the other end of the campus from the camp. I personally think they should be right next to one another so my stuffy superiors can see just whom they are making sleep in tents while families of the students here get dorm rooms. Asha and Elene are sharing a room now so more room could be freed in other halls through student relocations, but we do not yet have enough total space. In another two weeks, perhaps, if the administration would stop stalling. For now, all I can do is talk to them, get them medicine if they need it. Tell them we're working as hard as we can, even though we clearly are not.

Perhaps this is what has caused Aki to summon me. I haven't exactly been subtle about my disdain for the priorities of my superiors. More than likely I am about to be threatened again and told to rethink my attitude. This time, it will be a bluff for sure. Asha's first week of classes is going, with the exception of the first day, better than anyone could have hoped. The non-empathic students love her. She's making friends. And I am finding from the instructor's reports that she has learned a great deal more than I thought. Reid was right on that point, an admission which gives me no small amount of shame.

When I arrive at the office, the assistant has the door open and waiting. I walk into Aki's office and find her standing with her back to me, gazing out the window at the Arboretum. Her hands are clasped tightly at the small of her back, and her posture is rigid. I've known her long enough to be able to identify her focus—something must be making her scattered today. It suddenly occurs to me that there may be a very good reason why the camp is so far away from this building. There are a great deal of upset empaths on this campus right now.

“You wished to see me, Admiral?” I say by way of greeting, though I am sure she felt me enter the room.

“I was wondering if there was anything you wished to report concerning your youngest Type Three, Desmond,” she replies, still staring out the window. She is using my first name. We are off the record. This is a bad sign.

“Not particularly, Admiral. She started classes this week, and seems to be doing well overall.”

Aki turns from the window and fixes me with a look of sincere displeasure. “I do not appreciate being lied to, Desmond.”

I can't help but being taken aback. She feels my confusion and sighs impatiently, moving to her desk. “This!”

The video recording of Asha's first day of class begins to play, and even though I have seen it six or seven times by now, I watch it with her. Asha is sitting in a chair on the left side of the room, a long, low table between her and the instructor. Her instructor is in front of the inactive feed panel, and is frowning at Asha. The students present look exceptionally awkward.

“Asha,” the instructor, Amita, says, “You need to connect with me during lessons so I can be sure you're paying attention.”

Asha shakes her head, swaying gently as she always does. “I am sorry, instructor. Desmond told me I have to stay myself or I will not be able to stay focused.” Her voice is so soft it barely registers in the file. A student at the back of the room leans forward to catch her voice more clearly.

“Asha, it's a rule. We can't start class until you follow the rules.”

“He was supposed to talk to you. I cannot.” Her voice takes on an edge of agitation.

“Well, he hasn't, so please do it my way today so we can get started.”
Asha shakes her head more vigorously. “I will not be able to listen if I do this. I cannot.”

“Asha, I don't want you disrupting my class on the first day.”

“Then you should listen to me and move on,” she snaps, looking around the room. “Where is Nanda? He can tell you. Why is he not here?”

Amita raps her nails on the desk. “Don't change the subject. I was told you were ready for this, Asha.”

“And I was told you would understand.”

“Enough!” Amita begins, but is cut off by the arrival of Nanda, clearly in a rush.

“Excuse me, instructor, but I have a message from Asha's Teacher. He found me in the cafeteria and realized he had forgotten to send you Asha's case file. He wants to make sure you know to check your wristband before class....” Nanda offers her a timid smile and moves quickly to sit beside Asha.

The other students stare openly at them both while Amita looks her band over quickly. Once finished, she glances at Asha, then resumes class as though nothing has happened. She is just beginning to explain the course of the day's lesson when Aki cuts the recording short and gives me a pointed stare.

“Aki, I did not think this was a great enough issue to bring to your attention. Asha can certainly use a little training on diplomacy, but she is only in her first year, and the situation was resolved quickly. Furthermore, the entire debacle was my fault, really.”

She shakes her head and begins to rewind the feed. “That is not the issue here, Desmond. I am not upset over a simple communication error. What concerns me is this.” She freezes the recording on Amita's face. “Amita is the most patient, unflappable instructor we currently have working at the University. That is the exact reason why we assigned both Asha and Nanda to her.”

I nod. This is not news.

“So please tell me why, given this information, she looks as though she is about to start screaming over an admittedly minor mistake?” Aki snaps again, zooming in on Amita's face and bringing it into clear focus. Her dark eyes are narrow and her teeth are bared in an almost feral fashion.

“Does that look like the face of a patient woman to you?”

I shake my head, and realize with a sinking feeling where this is going. “No, Admiral, it does not.”

“Do you know whose face it does look like, Desmond?”

I don't answer because I don't need to: she has already pulled up a close-up of Asha's face at that very moment. Their expressions are eerily similar.

“I saw this on the day it happened, and it got me thinking, Desmond. So I decided to do a little more digging. Do you remember that day you oh-so-idiotically stormed in here and demanded we reassign her?”

I look at the floor. We both know that is a rhetorical question, and I am dreading what is going to happen when she gets to her point.

“Well, I pulled up the video from that day's training session. Would you say she was more agitated than usual?”

“Yes, I would.”

Aki slams both hands down on the desk and leans forward at me menacingly. “Do you see where I am going with this, Desmond?”

I don't respond.

“Desmond!” When she sees I still have no intention of responding, she continues speaking. “Were you aware before this meeting that Asha is a natural seeder?”

“I had no conclusive proof,” I say carefully.

“But you did have your suspicions?”

“Yes.”

“And why was I not made aware of these suspicions?”

“Because I wanted to be sure before I brought them to your attention.”

“I am unconvinced. I believe you would never have told me at all, even if you had come to a conclusion on your own.” She frowns at me. “I could confirm this for myself and see if you did already know and are lying to me, but I am giving you the benefit of the doubt and respecting your privacy.”

“How generous of you, Admiral.”

“Watch your tone, Doyle. I am far from pleased with you.”

“I fail to see how this is my fault.”

“Fault? No,” she sighs, slumping into her desk chair and motioning at last for me to sit down across from her. I ease into the chair cautiously and wait for her to continue speaking.

“Desmond, this is a problem.”

“I disagree.”

“She's seeding people almost incessantly! How is this not a problem?”

“She's not doing it intentionally, as we are both aware. That makes all the difference.”

Aki points at the screen again. “Spare me the semantics. The results are the same.”

I shake my head. “No, they are not. If Asha were doing this on purpose, it would be an enormous problem. It would be a crime. But she is still learning how to control her emotions, and so situations occasionally get out of hand. In another year, this won't happen at all.”

Aki shakes her head. “How do you know she's not doing it on purpose?”

I give a short laugh. “Aki, I spend a great deal of time with her. I'd like to think I know my own student. Also, her good moods are just as infectious, and I know you don't need me to tell you how much of an asset that can be.”

She gives me a long stare. “I am not entirely sure you are being objective, Desmond.”

“Well, Aki, that was one of the dangers of assigning me to her, wasn't it?”

“Think about what you're saying! She has seeded you and an instructor, and you're telling me it's not a problem!”

“I can't believe you're the one having this argument with me, Aki. Shouldn't you of all people understand that there is a distinction?”

“Yes, I do, but most people will not. That is my point.”

“Most people don't need to be made aware of this.”

Aki sighs and rubs at her temples. “Did I hear you correctly? Are you telling me to cover this up?”

“No, I am telling you to see this for what it is. If I think it's becoming a real problem, you will be the first to know.”

“Perhaps.” Her blue eyes give her stare extra force.

“Aki, she's not going to start seeding people on purpose!”

“Desmond!” Aki points in the direction of the refugee camp. “You already know how much trouble we are in politically over the help we're giving the Mibarans. That sensationalist lawyer bastard Rayland is clamoring for my head already.” Which is ridiculous. Aki may have been born on Midbar, yes, but her mother was Kiranese and she'd lived here for all but the first two decades of her life. She was no more Midbaran than I.

But she doesn't have to continue: I know where this is going. If Asha did seed somebody, and word got out that we knew she had been doing it, the Fleet would be committing political suicide.

“Surely you're not suggesting we send her back,” I say at last.

Aki shakes her head. “No, we can't do that. It would cause too many questions to be asked.”

“I was mostly thinking about how unfair it would be to her,” I say blandly.

Aki starts, and then sighs again. “You know what I mean, Desmond.”
I lean into the chair and force the muscles in my back to relax.

“Have you given any thought to telling her what she's doing?”

I shake my head. “It would upset her far too much. Hearing about the seeders during the Newearth/Kiranese war drove her to tears. If I told her she was doing something similar to the people around her, it would only make the problem worse.”

She purses her lips and thinks for a moment. “Well, this is a mess.”

“I can have a talk with her about better monitoring her emotions without arousing suspicion. Since she's spending far more time out in public, it would be a perfectly sensible issue to draw her attention to.”

“Do you think that will be enough?”

“It should be. Asha means well, Aki. She wants to function normally in society. If we handle this right, she may never need to be told she's a natural seeder.”

“I certainly hope so, because the other options before us are even more fucked up.”

I nod. “I'll do it, then.”

“Desmond? Do me a favor and read up on Rayland. I can't stress enough how essential it is to know your enemy.” Her fingers are back at her temples, and she looks far too tired for how early it is. In fact, she looks much like I have felt all week. Spending so much time at the camp is exhausting.

“I'll do that if you do me a favor in return,” I say casually.

She looks at me sharply. “Oh?”

“Get another dorm cleared so we have more space for the refugees.”

Aki sighs again. “You have a one-track mind, Desmond.”

“We need more room.”

“What am I supposed to do, ask the students to volunteer to share quarters?”

I stare at her. “Aki, have you actually been to the camp yet? Half our students spend their free time there helping out. Sending messages for the refugees, trying to track down family members, and so forth. I guarantee that if you asked the students to double-up, we'd have a dorm free within 48 hours, and it would be completely voluntary.”

“Alright, have it your way,” she groans. “Just keep Asha in check or we won't have a University for you to turn into a Midbaran resort.”

I stand and give her a lazy salute. “Understood, Admiral.”

“You're getting sloppy, Desmond.”

“Only when I'm off the record.”

“Out!”

I smile at the assistant as I leave, but she does not return the favor. I believe she was hoping I would exit the room in a far worse mood than I am in. Though if she were an empath, she would know instantly that the smile and the calm face is a lie. I am not pleased at all. I had been actively trying to avoid having that conversation with Aki, for the sake of Asha. It would have been better for us all had this gone unnoticed until she had progressed in her training. The more people know about this, the more danger she is in. And, as Aki so astutely pointed out, the more danger she is in, the more danger we all are in.

I have every intention of reading up on Marcus Rayland as Aki has asked me to do, but before that I need to drop by the camp. Caroline is usually there around this time, working as a translator and getting new refugees settled in. Last time we met for lunch she told me how happy she is that she's getting to put her skills to good use; she misses being a translator. Since I am the only staff member fluent in Native, I've been needed a great deal, as well. There are a few families I should check in with, at least, even if I don't spend a full day there today.

It was a waste of a walk, however, because when I arrive, there are two students already speaking with the families I wanted to check up on. Seamus is standing beside Asha, who is speaking animatedly with the half-Midbaran, half Native daughter of the Zafar family. Both girls are smiling pleasantly, and Seamus is listening with interest, which tells me Asha's mind is acting as a translator for him. Asha's diction sounds much more natural in her own language.

“Have you gone for a walk around the campus?” She asks the girl.

“Yes, I did a few days ago. It is very pretty!”

“Did you go in any of the plant-houses?” Asha uses a Native compound here instead of the Kiranese word. Her grasp of both languages has been improving dramatically recently.

“No! I did not know I could just walk in!”

Asha shrugs, a mannerism of Seamus'. “Well, I do.”

The girl giggles. “They probably think you would not understand if they told you no!”

At this, Asha laughs, and for the first time I hear herself in it. Usually when she laughs, it is Elene that shines through, or occasionally Seamus. But something in this moment, this interaction, has caused the real Asha to manifest in full. The sound is sweet, gentle, and stirs a wealth of painful memories. Until I heard her just now, I was unaware of just how much I missed that style of laughter. More and more Asha is reminding me of just how much of her planet I miss. If the Fleet would allow it, I would go back in an instant. Unfortunately, I am forbidden from ever returning in a professional capacity, and civilians are not allowed to travel to the planet. So I am left skulking about the camp, helping the Natives I can find and soaking in their mannerisms. Suddenly, I am disgusted with myself.

I turn to go without greeting Asha or Seamus. They have not noticed me, which is unsurprising considering how much mental traffic Seamus must be receiving. Asha must have shut herself off from everyone but him to make sure she could remain coherent, which would explain why she and the girl are speaking aloud so consistently. It appears these two are making my normal rounds, which makes my presence superfluous. Asha laughs again, and I feel a pang of jealousy. I've been speaking with this family for weeks. They are polite, and friendly, but they never laugh or chat with me casually. Despite everything I've done to make them comfortable, they won't open up for me.