The Misborn III: Winter

By L. V. MacLean

Jared and his friends, his virtual family, are drawn together from all four species in the Alliance. They are the Misborn, they agree, hiding talents that set them apart from their own people. Comfortable in their little group, they live quiet normal lives with work, and lovers, and now children, the ordinary sort of lives they want. But entities from another dimension have moved into this universe through an portal accidentally opened. They probably want this universe, or at least a large portion of it, although they really don't know how it works, or how to live in it. They certainly want to get rid of this multi-species group that can actually drive them away. So Jared and his friends are assaulted by such unusual enemies as a potty-mouthed field mouse, a pornographically-minded spider-like pest, a heavy-handed bully obsessed with attacking them. The Misborn, with a collection of eccentric assistants and the occasional assistance of a mysterious fifth species they do not really understand, must use their talents and their wits to fend off these invaders, only hoping they can save their own sanity along with the universe!

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. V. MacLean
• Release date: Mar 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370811694

L. V. MacLean

I come from a long line of story tellers and journalists, and I worked as a local journalist for years. That was fun, but my first love is fiction. Home is the eastern half of Montana, wheat fields and range land and small towns. I have a husband, two grown children, a lively grandson, and a superior cat. What more could anyone want? Just a laptop with a word processing program!

Book preview

Chapter 1.

A Few Years Later

Cara's car was parked in their car port, Jared noticed as he pulled into his drive, so she and Sofi and Gina were back from their shopping trip, but there were no lights on in his house. Getting out of his car he threw one quick thought next door – Cara? – and Gina answered with an image of Cara sitting on their couch, holding their baby Shamri, while Gina and Sofi sat at the breakfast bar and Issio sprawled comfortably in the rocking chair, his tail moving in lazy contented arcs from side to side. He and Sofi and Cara had coffee and Gina had cocoa and the warmth was welcome; winter had come in hard and cold this year.

Coffee for you too, Issio said, taking note of Jared's arrival. He and Sofi were used to tossing thoughts back and forth between themselves and other Zamuaons; it was a talent of their people, Ears, they said, to hear the thoughts of others. Most Zamuaons were at best condescending about the Little Ears a few Earthians exhibited, but Issio and Sofi had always accepted and encouraged Jared's Ears, which he had kept secret from early childhood. In fact, they insisted that Jared had Big Ears, as Big as their own, and so did their foster daughter Gina.

Gina at fourteen was as powerful as Issio and Sofi and Jared, experienced adults, and the picture she sent of the group in Issio's living room was friendly and warm and appealing. Jared thought about stopping long enough to toss his briefcase inside his own house and decided not to take the time. He crossed the snow-covered lawn, rang the doorbell on Issio's house, and let himself in with his thumb print.

The house was cheerful with Solstice decorations; the Azuri/zai committee had, in its wisdom and after nearly six months of delay, decided to convene here in Bridgeton during Winter Break. This was convenient in that the working people – Issio, for instance, teaching at the Multicultural Secondary School, Cara at the University – did not need to take time off. It was inconvenient in that the working people, Issio for instance, had hoped to enjoy a peaceful family Winter Break, Shamri's first since her birth in the autumn, Gina's first as their foster daughter, and had instead spent much too much time speaking before the committee.

Gina was already filling a cup for Jared, and Shamri reached for him at once; he plucked her out of his wife's arms, grinned at Cara's protest, and sat down beside her. Pretty baby, he said, and Shamri kicked happily and grabbed at his nose. Gina put the coffee cup down on the end table, since he had both hands full with her sister.

So, said Issio, what news from Azuri/zai?

They listened closely to our presentations, said Jared, everything that we told them; they read our reports and discussed the information and debated and came to a decision. We have an open portal into another dimension; we have lost people through that portal; we have intruders entering that portal with, well, dubious intentions toward us. And a habit of taking over, actually possessing, any convenient body so they can attack us. So the Azuri/zai command has done what any concerned and responsible organization would do. They have established a new department to study the matter.

Slavering pit demons, said Sofi, disgusted.

What department? asked Cara on a practical note. Who's supposed to be in it; will they pay attention to your work on translating the runes on those portals?

The Department of Extrauniversal Affairs, said Jared. Doesn't that have a nice bureaucratic ring to it?

Very excellent, said Issio, also impressive. I see it inscribed on a plaque, installed on a doorway in a large office building. It will be most useful; we will call upon them when we find another of those beings in one of our houses, cursing and screaming at us. If we are fortunate, it will inhabit the body of a cricket or a molekin, not the body of a person with a laser rifle.

If this department works out of an office, said Sofi, taking an optimistic view, we shall capture the cricket or molekin or person and bring it to the office and give it to them, since they are to be in charge of such matters. This could be very entertaining. Where is this office to be?

If it's in Tuania, said Cara, it could be a really interesting trip. Carrying, say, a screaming foul-mouthed bird in a cage on the supertrain all the way from Bridgeton.

Or someone like Ione Patterson, said Gina, with a giggle, tied up in a box. Could we check her like a suitcase? Have her hauled in the baggage car?

Do they make cages big enough? inquired Issio; Patterson's fortunately now ex-wife was built on the big side. His present girlfriend probably weighed more, but Trudy dressed well and presented an imposing appearance, suitable for an attorney in a prestigious law firm downtown, and she was sane, highly intelligent, and had, as Jared had observed for years, the most beautiful golden brown eyes, in which Patterson, to Jared's great satisfaction, was happily drowning.

Ione in a cage in a baggage car, said Jared. I like that picture. Unfortunately it won't be necessary; the headquarters will be here in Bridgeton, with the Drs. Wood acting as liaisons to Azuri/zai command in Tuania.

So Ned and Louise will still be here; good, said Cara, letting Shamri grab her finger. Her aim was getting good and relatively harmless; Sofi kept her claws filed down. Did they say who they were putting in charge? Is it someone you can work with?

Oh, yes, said Jared, that's the worst of it. They put me in charge.

Seriously? said Sofi.

You are looking, said Jared, with a sigh, at the Director of the Department of Extrauniversal Affairs, ranking just below the command committee of Project Azuri/zai. I hope you're all impressed.

Oh, thank heaven, they did something sensible! exclaimed Cara, and pulled her finger out of Shamri's grasp and put her arms around his neck, which was at least one benefit of his unwanted new position.

Excellent! said Issio, tapping his tail.

An outstanding choice, said Sofi, nodding approval. They show some intelligence after all.

Do we get to bring you all the flies and stoads and nuntulpos we find? Gina inquired, and he laughed.

Yes, because I get to negotiate with them, he said. That is my job.

You did that all summer and fall, said Sofi.

For what good it did, said Jared. At least it seems I will now be paid to waste my time trying. Dr. Blander is arranging my sabbatical with Dr. Graystone at the Institute. I am to devote my full time and attention to translating the glyphs on the arches they seem to be coming through, and Directing Extrauniversal Affairs.

Oh, Jared, said Cara sympathetically; she knew how much he enjoyed his teaching, how insistently he had held on to the two morning classes he had during the fall quarter at the Institute. Dr. Blander's high-handed arrangements by no means suited Jared. He felt that he had been drafted without his consent; he regretted the loss of his students and the challenge of instructing and interacting with them. He could only hope it was temporary, the more temporary the better.

The good part, he said, trying to sound upbeat about it, is that they have promised me full autonomy, backed by their resources, and I'm allowed to assemble whatever assistants I need. And this means you three – Issio and Sofi and Cara mia – and Saizy; I have to call and ask her, but it seems she already indicated to Dr. Blander that she could be persuaded to come out of retirement.

She wouldn't miss this for anything, said Cara. She already told me so.

And Lalia, if she's willing. I'll call her in Wark's Ferry unless she comes by this weekend. Or if one of her people dropped by before then; he was a little surprised not to find Zarei or Chazaerte here, with Sofi gone shopping and Issio left babysitting. Issio, who had no good opinion of Chazaerte, might have encouraged him to find something to do somewhere else, but he would have put up with his mother-in-law.

I help, announced Shamri, making another try for Uncle Jared's nose since she no longer had Aunt Cara's finger. And that other one.

Shamri says she'll help, Jared translated for the benefit of Cara, who had an interesting genetic background but no Ears at all. With that other one; what other one is that, pretty baby?

That other one, Shamri said, impatiently, and swiped at his face again. It was not the first time she had mentioned That Other One, and none of them had any idea what she was talking about. Jared had wondered if a child so young could have an imaginary playmate. She hardly seemed to need one. She had the entire neighborhood dancing attendance upon her. But Shamri was not a typical infant.

Maybe you mean Gina, Cara said to her, and Shamri slanted a blue-eyed look her way and switched her tail.

Not Sister, she said, but Sister helps too.

Yes, Sister can help too, said Gina at once. You know I'm very strong, she said as all four adults shook their heads in unison. I'm certainly old enough by now.

You're fourteen, said Jared.

Exactly, she agreed at once.

Honey, it's dangerous, said Jared. You know it's dangerous. Polly nearly killed you, remember?

But she didn't, said Gina, unanswerably.

Out of the question, said Sofi firmly. Entirely out of the question.

Completely, agreed Issio. Shamri also is strong, he pointed out, as Gina opened her mouth to argue. Shall we involve her? Of course not. She is far too young, a little over three months now. Ten years is too young; we do not involve Terry. Fourteen is also too young. I believe that thirty-three is too young. He glanced at Sofi, and she switched her tail, hard; her tail ring hit the side of the breakfast bar with a sharp crack. You are a nursing mother, he said. Stress.

Gina grabbed the coffee cup before Sofi threw it at her annoying husband.

We'll count you in reserve, Jared told Gina, and she looked as if she were considering throwing the coffee cup at him; he grinned. Furthermore, he continued, hoping to change the subject, my assistants and I get to have a staff of our very own. Dr. Blander has already assembled some people he thought might be useful; we should have librarians, he said, and Saizy should have a biologist to work with her, and perhaps an extra anthropologist and a sociologist might be useful. I already have anthropological linguists and imagists; I will keep Patterson and Weston and Sandy. But he says the committee wants reports and we need to keep records, so he is finding us a transcriber to take care of all these matters.

We do not get to choose? protested Sofi.

Dr. Blander wants to spare us the trouble, said Jared, and she rolled her eyes. He's getting them together. All of you are welcome to come and meet them.

I have a previous engagement, said Issio at once.

Which reminds me; Dr. Blander said he would be happy to make arrangements at Multicultural to free you from your teaching duties –

If I require such freedom, said Issio grimly, I will immediately inform him.

And he will have child care arrangements made for you and Shamri, the very best infant specialists he can locate, Jared told Sofi, watching with appreciation as the white gold body hair on her tail and around her neck bushed and the claws appeared on her slender hands and the fangs began to show between her delicate lips. He only wished Dr. Blander could see her reaction. I thought, he said, smiling at Shamri in his arms, that our pretty baby would like to terrorize some strange child care expert. I thought she might find it amusing.

Fun, fun, agreed Shamri, kicking with enthusiasm, and Sofi, seeing that he wasn't serious, relaxed; her hair smoothed and her claws retracted.

And of course he will arrange with the University, continued Jared, and Cara shook her head hard enough that her golden hair flew about her face.

I'll be just fine, she said. I'm sure I can fit this assistant thing around my schedule. Does Dr. Blander understand that we have lives? Lives we might even enjoy?

He seems to find that secondary, said Jared. Well. It's important; I'm sure we can all see that. These creatures certainly pose a threat to us, to our dimension, the plane where we live, although I don't know how much or what kind. So far we've coexisted, although it wasn't much fun last summer. And some means must be found to close the breached portal, at least for now. I'd rather not be the one in charge of it, that's all. And I don't imagine the rest of you want to be involved all that much. But I don't think we have a choice. We're already involved, like it or not. The creatures have involved us. And, he added, looking down at Shamri, who was gazing up at him with sparkling blue eyes, I want our part of the universe, anyway, to be safe for pretty babies, and for Sister and for Brother Terry –

And That Other One, Shamri said.

Okay, he said. And for That Other One, whoever he or she is.

He, said Shamri, and located her thumb, sticking it firmly into her mouth. And now they had a gender established for That Other One, which was a sort of a step forward, Jared guessed. He thought it was interesting that Shamri had a concept of male and female, recognized a difference, anyway, but Shamri had concepts of a lot of things in that little white gold head.

And she knew what she wanted, and she wasn't bashful about mentioning it, either. Horsey, horsey, she said as he and Cara began to get off the couch. This is your fault, said Sofi sternly. You gave her the rocking horse. I told you she was too young.

There was a blast of indignant protest from Shamri at this insult, and it was strong enough that Jared thought even Cara was aware of it. The rocking horse was set beside the side window, magnificent, gleaming white with gold trim, love at first sight for Shamri, just as he and Cara had known it would be. He carried the baby over to it and set her on the saddle, holding her up; she could hold her head erect, and she was seriously working on turning over by herself, and she was watching the adults around her and trying to understand how walking worked, but she still couldn't sit without support, however it irritated her to require help. Cara set it rocking gently, and Shamri crowed and kicked, and her tail swung back and forth, seeking balance.

It continually surprised Jared how much he loved this baby.

Chapter 2.

Holding hands, Jared and Cara ran across Issio's lawn and their driveway and their own lawn through the falling snow. The first snowfall, last month, had been delightful, beautiful; they stood on the Hardesty front porch and admired the sparkling flakes drifting out of the night sky. But that was last month. Snow was no longer a novelty; it was cold and wet, it covered sidewalks, requiring the snow clearers, which hummed importantly up and down the walks and out into the street and left ridges that caught the antigrav units under the cars and caused the vehicles to bump and jump. Snow built up on the roofs, melted and dripped off the eaves in sunshine and formed long lethal-looking icicles when it froze again at night. Someone dawdling on the step was apt to get melted snow on the head or down the neck during the day, and a tall man like Jared might crack his head against the fringe of icicles at night if he wasn't careful.

Ann's car had developed a hitch around the antigrav; it high-centered on the snow bank at the corner of her drive last week, requiring some serious efforts from the neighborhood to get it loose. Clyde's car rammed right into a snow bank head-first, the collision shield digging an impressive hole into the snow, and it took him fifteen minutes to get out of it; the shields had no traction. Mimi, not always steady on her feet since last summer, slipped on her front porch and broke her ankle; the bone sealer had taken care of it, but it was still painful in the cold weather.

Lillian and Al, honeymooning on Langoria Isle, sent postcard holos of tropical trees and rolling blue ocean, beaches filled with scantily-dressed young people. So sorry you're not here, ha, ha, the last postcard had read. It had had a holo of a well-built young woman in a bikini sipping something from a glass trimmed with a paper parasol as she lolled on a towel in the hot sunshine. Phyllis said she might bury the honeymoon couple in the nearest snow drift when they came home, not that they seemed in any hurry to do that.

But the winter weather seemed to bring a new glow into Cara's face, blue eyes alight in a face flushed with cold, and snowflakes caught in her blond hair. They had met just last spring; they were still newlyweds, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

So I'm an assistant too, she said, unwinding the scarf around her neck as he took off his coat in their living room. She tossed the shopping bag down in the armchair, the one with the laser hole in the back; she had bought new gloves at the mall, and a new shirt, not buttoned down. Her wardrobe was less conservative these days, a change that greatly pleased him.

I need you, he said frankly. I don't know how we would have gotten out of Polly's mind the last time if it hadn't been for you. It was dark; there was no sense of direction. Until I reached for you. So yes, you are an assistant. You can even have some of the staff if you want them. I don't.

She giggled. What are we going to do with a staff? she asked. Sandy and Patterson and Weston know what's going on, they know what to do, but these strangers won't know anything. We’ll have to start from scratch, breaking them in.

It's going to be a pain, agreed Jared. The only one I can see any use for will be the recording transcriber. He can run around keeping all the records they want, and he can handle the reports, and we won't have to bother about them. And another good thing is that the committee has put all my assistants on the payroll. Which means Sofi and Issio, you know.

That'll help, agreed Cara, while Sofi stays home with Shamri this year. With four of them, they can certainly use the credits.

Willis couldn't afford to pay much more than token support for Gina, or for their brother Terry, either, not that the D'ubians were any more concerned about it than Sofi and Issio. Dural was inclined to feel insulted, in fact, that anyone, even Terry's brother, would feel he needed to pay the D'ubians to board Terry with them. We have Terry, Dural said, not for the first time, and we share him with you others. But we have Terry. They had spent a good part of Winter Break happily closeted with Numum at the Bahtan house, going over blueprints; they would start work on Terry's bedroom and practice space as soon as the weather allowed.

Pausing at the Bahtan house across the street one afternoon to see if the girls had anything for Cara's stomach, which bothered her more often than he liked, Jared got a look at the plans. Terry would have a good-sized room of his own and a soundproofed room just off it, with the capabilities for recording equipment, Numum said, pointing out how it could be installed. So if it wasn't convenient to move their sessions to their studio downtown, Jared supposed, they could record right there at home.

Numum was looking forward to the project. He had had much too much of sitting around already, letting his leg heal from his last encounter with Polly, and he was eager to use his construction skills, honed on the addition to Issio's house last fall. All five of the Bahtan sisters beamed with pride as he translated the blueprints for Jared, and they so appreciated Jared's interest that they gave him three different remedies for Cara, none of which had done much good. Like the rest of the neighborhood with their unconventional genetic heritages, Cara was drug resistant, but usually the Bahtan formulas worked even if nothing else did. Their big blue pills were the only things to touch her headaches. The headaches, he believed, really were It-related, and she hadn't had any since they had dealt with Polly.

As for the digestive upsets – stress, said Issio, eyeing the nursing mother in his own house; it was stressful for Cara, too, the emotional upheaval of the past year. The woman she had considered her mother, Dr. Margo Lindstrom, had died almost a year ago in a sea of blood, a suicide who did her best to take Cara with her. Nothing had been the same for Cara since then. Some of the changes had been good – Jared, being one of the changes, hoped so, anyway – but change was change, and all of it brought stress.

She seemed to be in glowing good health this evening, though. They made dinner together, and she ate and kept it down, which was excellent. Of course, with Winter Break, she had time off; it was when she was tired, Jared noticed, that she seemed to have the most trouble. And, again the stress catching up, she was often tired now. Dishes in the dishwasher, the cleaner scooting around the kitchen doing its job on floors and cabinets and counter tops, she sat down beside Jared on the couch while he avoided his briefcase and flipped through the menu on the vid player instead, and when he looked down to ask her which vid appealed to her, he found her asleep against his shoulder.

So he stretched his legs out on the couch and eased her down on top of him, with his arm around her, and reached instead for the new Elmer Jones reader, plots with enough suspense and mystery to keep his mind busy and away from portals and creatures from other universes. Cara slept; he read, relaxed and quiet.

A car whooshed past and Rocky, padding along on his regular programmed security patrol through the neighborhood, let out a friendly woof; it was about nine, which meant it was probably Trudy and Patterson coming back from a leisurely dinner to visit with Phyllis, who missed her sister and her new brother-in-law. At the moment, her boarders weren't taking up the slack. Willis was probably around, but Jake Weston might or might not be downstairs keeping her company; he might just as well be in his room playing with new figures for the projectors again. The virtual constructs of the arches were, Jared thought, nearly as good as seeing the real things, but Weston felt there was always room for improvement, and every wave of data from the few scouting ships allowed in the area set off weeks of new calculations for him.

And Patterson, in full courting plumage, was as often gone as he was present. Trudy had gotten very friendly with Phyllis during the uproar of Lillian's wedding before Solstice – Ann had drafted Trudy to deal with the table arrangements for the full sit-down dinner after the ceremony; Trudy had risen to the challenge, although she had been somewhat startled at the centerpiece, a huge arrangement of roses that played music. Now Trudy tried to spend some time with Phyllis in the evenings. But she and Patterson tended, even with the best of intentions, to get distracted. Trudy was prone to distraction; Jared considered Patterson a lucky man, nearly as lucky as Jared was himself.

And Sandy Ott was in Miramani with her family for the holidays; she called frequently, but she wouldn't be back until the end of next weekend at the earliest. Jared had expected her to move her family back to Bridgeton once the worst of the crises seemed to be over, but she hadn't. She hadn't made any move to quit her job and join them in Miramani, either. Jared was glad of that – she would be hard to replace – but he wondered how marriage and motherhood could be sustained at long distance.

She left Rocky behind, of course. Her mother was terrified of Rocky. And, crisis over or not, no one here felt so secure that they were willing to do without their watchdog. And besides, as Phyllis and Mimi and Sandy and Cara and Gina and Ann and even Trudy remarked, Rocky and Yvonne Marie looked so adorable playing together, a gigantic robotic Rottweiler-shepherd mix and a small meticulously-groomed white poodle. It was, Jared had to admit, a remarkable sight.

Cara stirred when Rocky barked, but she didn't wake; she settled back and Jared flipped a page on the reader, feeling luxuriously comfortable. The snowflakes ticked against the windows; the cleaner glided out of the kitchen into the living room, making its usual fussy circuit around the silver D'ubian ax stuck in the middle of the floor. Everyone, even Numum, had made a try at getting it loose, but it had been stuck there for probably over two months. Cara had temporarily removed the artificial vine Saizy had used to decorate it, and had wound Solstice evergreens with red and gold berries around the haft; if it was going to stay there, she said, they would make the best of it. The cleaner refused to adopt this attitude. It circled the ax many times a day, nudging at it, chewing at it, trying, Jared often thought, to persuade it to move.

Yes, he knew it was foolishness to ascribe Earthian emotions and motivations to mere mechanical assistants, but he lived with Rocky on a daily basis; there was not a soul in the neighborhood who didn't pause to greet Rocky or pat his robotic head. Even Trudy was prone to that, and she spent only most of her time here, not all of it. It was, he suspected, a tendency in all of the Alliance species to anthropomorphize the things around them. Maybe, he sometimes thought, living with people, appliances actually developed personalities.

With a mild pop, more a sensation than a sound, Maud appeared beside the Solstice-decorated hatchet in a glow of red silk and a shimmer of diamonds and a gleam of her silver pendant with the Celtic knot, which she released to lift a hand in greeting as soon as she saw Jared on the couch. She looked at Cara, sleeping against him, and raised an eyebrow and he mouthed the word Tired at her; she nodded.

I'll come back tomorrow, she whispered and reached for the pendant her people called travelers, but before she could travel, Jared's phone chimed, reminding him that he had forgotten to turn the ring off. Cara's blue eyes flew open and she lifted her head.

Oh, hell, he muttered and dug into his pocket after the phone; Cara sat up, smoothing her hair with her hands, and spotted Maud.

Mother! I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep; have you been here long?

I just got here, said Maud, and Jared glanced at the indicator on the phone, grinned, and turned it on.

So, said Saizy, not waiting for his greeting, I am notified that after all my years of work, all my academic honors, all the awards and commendations of my peers – and there are few good enough to be my peers, I will have you know – I am now appointed as assistant to a conniving seducer thirty-five years my junior, with a single doctorate and no extra-planetary experience.

Tough, said Jared. Apart from that, how was your day?

Quite excellent, she said cheerfully. I went to Time for Pets. I wished to purchase bird seed for those birds we bought last month; also Yvonne Marie needs black boots to coordinate with her striped sweater. The effect of the red boots is quite shocking.

Terrible, agreed Jared. Maud went into the kitchen to see about coffee, waving away any hostess-like intentions from Cara yawning on the couch.

And I found that one of the Bvasti parrots has already been sold, Saizy said. You remember the woman in the running shorts? The woman who hates music? She purchased one parrot before Solstice, and put a down payment on the other parrot.

She was hoping to get them both before Solstice, said Jared. I talked with her that day we bought the birds; that was when she told me about her father the music teacher.

It seems, said Saizy, that she works in an engineering firm, with only a starting salary, and therefore could not pay the price for both parrots at once. She was there listening to the second parrot. He was reciting Canlane, all by himself, which sounded very sad.

Bvasti parrots sound very sad no matter what they're reciting, said Jared.

This is true, agreed Saizy, but I hope she will soon be able to purchase the second parrot. I believe she will give them a good home, as long as they do not begin to sing.

Better her than me, said Jared, catching, over the distance between his house and Saizy's, a fragment of a vision, something about the pet store owner and the remaining parrot and Saizy's credits, something Saizy did not necessarily want him to know. The woman with the running shorts was going to find the second parrot on sale at an unusually low price, he suspected. He withdrew from her thoughts quickly, so that Saizy wouldn't catch him taking note of what she had done, this impulsive generosity, although he might have done it himself in her place. They had both felt some amused affection for the parrot woman.

After which, continued Saizy, I had dinner downtown with Ned and Louise, a very pleasant meal, although the meat was not fresh. At least thirty-six hours from butchering, I swear, in a superior restaurant; five stars, I was told. Scandalous. And then I came home to find a message from Dr. Blander, announcing this outrageous appointment. Shocking. I am now required to report to this calculating schemer to receive orders regarding future plans and schedules. How soon we are set aside by the upstart youth.

Conniving upstart youth, Jared corrected her, and she snorted, much amused. You are ordered to present yourself today or tomorrow or whenever it suits you so we can make those future plans and schedules. No rush; we still have to contact Lalia. I'll call her, he said to Maud, who was waving her diamond-decorated hand at the breakfast bar. She's the only one of your people with a phone; I like the novelty! Maud laughed.

Have you any idea where we ought to start? asked Saizy. They wish us to locate these entities; are we to attempt conversation with the stoad? Or no, he is a field mouse now, is he not.

I would just as soon converse with an alligator, said Jared. Now that he's been displayed for the committee, he can go back to wherever Maud and Carter placed him. We have two others, you know, in White Reef, in the sanitarium, in Earthian bodies.

One of them tried to kill Patterson, said Saizy. I do not like this; this is as dangerous as Polly was.

Well, that probably had to do with Patterson's divorce, said Jared. He didn't go after anyone in the neighborhood. He only shot at me because I was driving the car with Patterson in it. And Ione, remember, didn't actually try to kill anyone except the white mouse; she sawed the kids' bikes to pieces and she broke into the D'ubian's warehouse, probably to get our data cubes, but she didn't threaten any of us.

She threatened me, said Cara, beside Maud, when I wouldn't hand Patterson over to her. And when Issio and Chazaerte and Willis came after her, she burst into tears and ran away, she told Maud, lifting her coffee cup. Kind of a shame. I was going to hit her with the broom; it would have been fun.

A formidable opponent, said Maud, lifting her own cup.

And, Jared said to Saizy, we now have a staff. Dr. Blander is assembling it for us, and my assistants are welcome to come and meet them. Wednesday, at the Institute; he wants to introduce them to us, allow us to ask them questions, allow them to ask us questions. And then we can get together, the six of us, and try to figure out what to do with them.

Do not shrug off this staff, said Saizy. I have worked in these circles all of my life. The existence of the staff gives our work importance, gives you consequence. It does not matter if we need them, if we ever use them. Having them increases our prestige. Our concern is to make work for them to keep them out from under our feet. Having done so, we may ignore them.

I have enough prestige, said Jared. Help me think of things for them to do. And come and meet them on Wednesday. Issio and Sofi have a previous engagement, which they are probably making as we speak, and Cara – At the breakfast bar she shook her head, firmly. Cara has urgent business that day.

All day, said Cara. Mimi promised to show me her recipe for orange rolls.

I may have an assignation with a Bvasti parrot, said Saizy, and he laughed. Well, I will see what I can do; I will call you tomorrow, she said. Does Cara feel better? This is not a virus, you know; it has lasted too long.

Stress, said Jared, grinning. Like poor Sofi.

We have had much stress, that is sure, agreed Saizy. Well. I will call you tomorrow. You will speak with Lalia? I trust she will not be required to give up her practice in Wark's Ferry.

We'll work around her schedule, said Jared. I wish I could work around mine. I don't look forward to this as a full-time occupation.

No, but perhaps, said Saizy, if we work hard together, we can get this matter settled by spring – certainly by summer. And then you may return to your own life in the fall. And I will return to my mountains, and my writing, and Sofi and Issio may go back to uninterrupted teaching at Multicultural, and Lalia will enjoy practicing medicine in Wark's Ferry –

Enjoy? Have you ever been in Wark's Ferry?

No, but Gina has described it to me; a delightful place, I am sure. She took note of Jared's laugh with another snort. And, our duty to the universe completed, we may look forward to living happily ever after.

I see, said Jared, that you and Gina have a lot in common. You both create fantasy fiction.

Cara and Maud were comfortable with their coffee at the breakfast bar; they didn't seem to need him. Relations between Cara and her unexpected birth mother were smoother these days. So Jared went ahead and punched in Lalia's number at Wark's Ferry, before Maud could reach her in their own ways. Lalia was at her house, visiting with Zarei and admiring the latest batch of holos; Zarei traveled, these days, with pockets full of her granddaughter's image. Wednesday afternoon? Lalia said. The office is closed that afternoon. No, we doctors don't play golf in the winter; we go skiing. I think Clark is on call this week. I'll ask him. This staff isn't a bad idea, Jared; they can do some of the research we don't want to bother with. If we catch some poor soul inhabited by an It, they can sit on him until the Bahtan sisters can get the chains. They could be very useful.

Saizy says they increase our importance, said Jared. I expect my assistants to help me figure ways to keep them occupied. So if you can get here Wednesday afternoon, let me know.

I'll be there somehow, said Lalia, as long as I'm not the one on call.

So he would have a couple of his friends to back him up on Wednesday; he wasn't especially looking forward to this meeting, but that would help. Cara would come if he hinted that he needed her, but he thought a complete break from these problems would be good for her. And he had no intention of dragging Issio or Sofi away from the girls until after New Years. Saizy and Lalia would be allies enough.

He put his phone back in his pocket and got up to join Maud and Cara at the breakfast bar

Chapter 3.

Maud had marshaled her people to meet the Azuri/zai committee. So Dr. Blander was already acquainted with Lalia, and he looked only slightly intimidated when Jared caught up with him at the Institute Wednesday afternoon. Lalia looked entirely Earthian, would have passed anywhere, but he knew very well she was not, although no one seemed to have a clear idea what exactly her people were.

But they were allies, so Dr. Blander was standing in the hall just outside Jared's office, making polite, labored conversation with this representative of the fifth species in the Alliance, not that they were formal Alliance members, of course.

Lalia, who hadn't bothered with a winter coat, not having been outside, was enjoying Dr. Blander's struggle; she greeted Jared with a smile. Is he aware we don't eat Earthian flesh? she inquired, one of the few of her species who had Ears and used them.

I thought we made it clear, Jared answered, and shook hands with Dr. Blander and tried not to look too wistfully at his own office, in an unnatural state of order with his things stored for the duration.

Ah, Dr. Ramirez, good afternoon, said Dr. Blander grandly. You will like to know that I have been in touch with Dr. Graystone; he is more than happy to arrange your sabbatical.

Jared tried not to mind. He had to admit that he and his little group had experience in this matter; certainly no one else did. He could only hope Saizy was right and they would settle it quickly. It had taken many months to deal with the invaders they had found on their hands, but they hadn't known who or what they were, and they hadn't the faintest idea what to do about them; they had had to learn from scratch. Now they knew; now things must be easier.

Steering hand on Jared's shoulder, Dr. Blander moved down the hall toward the conference room where Jared and his work team had begun their study of the Or2 arches last winter, almost a year ago. Lalia drifted behind them. I think you will be pleased with the staff we have put together for you, he said. We were able to secure the services of several talented young people who are eager to work with you on this project. So we'll just take a little time, if you don't mind, Dr. Ramirez, to bring them up to speed. Introduce everyone, and give them a quick run-down; they have the records of your appearance before the committee, of course, and all of that, but you know, just a summary, and a chance for you to get to know them a little. Ah, Dr. p'Anotta; so nice of you to take the time. Dr. Blander was off to greet Saizy, coming down the hall; on her good behavior, she gave Jared just a tiny wink over Dr. Blander's shoulder as she shook hands with him. The tip of her tail twitched under the hem of her coat.

It is interesting to be involved in this matter, she said. Dr. Ramirez. Dr. Maarchesin. Good day to you both. Do we meet Dr. Ramirez' staff here?

Right in the conference room; I think they must all be present by now. Dr. Blander conducted them, with sweeping gestures, toward the familiar door. Saizy glanced at Jared and twirled her tail with amusement.

Poor man. I know you never wanted to be official, she said, touching his mind. You must become accustomed to it.

He scowled at her behind Dr. Blander's back and she slid her hand, soft well-groomed grey body hair, into his arm. He had become very fond of her, this difficult interesting little woman, virtual godmother to his wife; he was glad she was going to stick around for whatever this new phase of their unwelcome adventure became. He offered his other arm to Lalia and, with a twinkle, she took it.

The conference room door opened, and Jared looked, in some dismay, at the gathering of young men and women, earnest Earthian and Zamuaon and Bahtan faces with a minimum of two noters apiece and piles of printouts in front of them, small mechanical recording devices in their pockets, pens and pencils and more than one stylus apiece, in the hand, behind the ear, clutched in the teeth. They might have been a group of undergraduates, earnest, eager to please, prone to pursuing the professor down the hall asking questions, inclined to get underfoot at inconvenient moments. He counted heads. There were fewer than it had at first seemed, only seven of them. They could cope with seven, he told himself.

Ladies and gentlemen, so nice to see you all here, said Dr. Blander, leading the way to the head of the table, in front of the lecture-sized screens with the Azuri/zai logo projected upon them. I am honored to present to you Dr. Jared Ramirez, Director of Extrauniversal Affairs. That was a title it was going to take time to get used to. And Dr. Saizy p'Anotta, director of Project Terraformation, retired; she has kindly consented to assist us in this matter. And Dr. Lalia Maarchesin. A representative of the, uh, you have, I trust, read the reports, you will understand – so suppose we go around the table, introducing ourselves, and then Dr. Ramirez will give us a summary of the present situation, and his plans for the future. If you would start, please? He nodded to the serious young Zamuaon at his left, orange-striped body hair, tip of his tail twitching with nerves or excitement. What are we going to do with all these people? Jared said to Saizy.

Make work. Very complicated work. Work that will take much time, and keep them out of our way.

The young Zamuaon paused and looked at them quickly; he had Big enough Ears to pick up some part of what they were saying, Jared realized. But he was not well-trained yet, or much experienced; he had heard something but not enough to understand. Jared took note of him; anyone with Big Ears was of potential use, he thought. Faashi f'Vizaza; he was a graduate of the School of Sociology in Tuania.

He stored the name in the back of his mind, and followed the parade of introductions around the table. They had a research librarian, which was nice if they needed research done; another anthropologist, this one much junior to Weston and Patterson; a biologist, only an MA, to work with Saizy. They had a young woman from Defense, looking stiff and uncomfortable out of uniform; Jared hoped they wouldn't need her advice or her specialty. Anyway, they had Willis, one year at the Academy before injuries forced his departure, for that. Jared found the transcriber, someone who might be of real use, sitting between the representative from Alliance Defense, and a Bahtan in a tailored dress with Medical Adviser on her name tag. Proving her efficiency, the transcriber already had her recording device going and she was scribbling on her noter, absorbed, and not looking at anyone at all.

And this is your transcriber, said Dr. Blander, and she lifted her eyes as far as the middle of the table.

Denise Owens, she said. I've been working for Dr. Arybo in Tuania; I graduated from the University here. Alliance history.

What? Saizy, catching his startled reaction, asked him, and Denise Owens shot him one lightening-quick look out of the corner of her eye and returned her attention to her noter, as if it contained the most important business of the entire universe.

Oh, hell, he thought, transported back six years, or was it seven; a cheap hotel, an appalling honeymoon suite furnished in pink and white, lots of plush, a preponderance of hearts, a girl just turned sixteen, and three classmates who thought it would be funny to see what she would do if they hired a man to take her to bed, willing or not.

Denise.

Of course she recognized him. And of course he recognized her, although she had grown taller and had filled out slightly, was no longer the coltish sixteen-year-old girl he had met, that would be seven years ago, he thought, doing the math in his head. He had just been accepted into the Masters program. He was contemplating cutting back his time at the Premier Escort Agency. He was in love with Maud.

He had for many years managed to keep his life comfortably compartmentalized, but he already had two women from his past involved in his present life, and here was another one. Oh, hell, he said, and Saizy, whose Ears were powerful and well-trained, took a fast sharp look into his head before he could shut it down, found Denise at once, and pounced on his discomfort with delight.

Conniving seducer! she exclaimed, with great pleasure. My poor dear Cara, married to so evil a man! Her tail swung happily; he looked elsewhere, knowing he would laugh if he met her eyes. He felt Lalia's curiosity. She reached toward his mind; he rebuffed her advance at once, grinning at her, and, intrigued, she turned to Saizy, who had no hesitation in sharing. Oh, my, she said, and turned hastily to the window to conceal an urge to laugh. The young Zamuaon sociologist, feeling some of the undertones, looked at them with confusion.

This is not funny! Jared informed his companions, and listened to their silent delight.

And now I will turn the floor over to Dr. Ramirez, said Dr. Blander, comfortably ignorant of undercurrents, and he sat down beside the Bahtan who had introduced herself, even if Dr. Ramirez had been too busy with side issues to pay attention. She was smiling and nodding her long brown head, smoothing her tailored dress over the mammary glands just below her waist.

Jared gathered his thoughts, shutting out the glee of his companions, and concentrated on present business.

Go, he said to Saizy and Lalia as the clump of his unwelcome staff members began to break up, finally running out of questions. Dr. Blander was working his way out the door with the librarian and the woman from Defense; Denise was gathering her stack of printouts into a neat pile and she looked as if she were about to get out of her chair, and he had to catch her before she escaped out the door.

No, said Saizy, I want to see.

Well, you're not going to; go, said Jared firmly. She's not going to talk with me while anyone else is here.

I want to watch; I have my dear Cara's best interests to protect. If she had been Earthian, Saizy would have been grinning ear to ear, if not laughing out loud, and there was Lalia right beside her, egging her on.

Saizy! he said to her, softly but with emphasis, and Lalia grinned and Saizy sighed, swung her tail widely and followed her to the door, where the biologist spotted her and headed after her, looking as if he wanted to catch her sleeve if he only dared.

Dr. Ramirez, said the young Zamuaon, the sociologist. I wonder if it would be possible to actually see the virtual projection of those arches. You have them in the Institute here?

Security issues; we moved the equipment to a private house last summer. Ann's basement across the street from his home, in fact, and he wished he were there right now. The Bahtan buttoned her coat and nodded to Jared and turned to the door, and Denise turned off her noter and stowed the stylus in the side compartment. With the young Zamuaon right beside him, Jared drifted casually in her direction.

So we require clearance? asked the young man.

As a member of this team, said Jared, I assume you have it. Denise made a small move toward her coat, hanging on the back of her chair, and Jared put a casual, absent-minded hand firmly on top of it, holding it down as he leaned against her chair with his shoulder to her, absorbed in his conversation with the sociologist.

I believe this is true, agreed Mr. f'Vizaza.

We should set up something for the whole group, said Jared. Let me check with my team on the spot and we'll arrange a time. You're right; this is something we should do.

It would be very instructive, said Mr. f'Vizaza. Denise abandoned her coat and opened her noter again, flipping through the pages, making sure, no doubt, that she had everything important covered.

Have you or the group in general any commitments in, say, the next week?

We are entirely at your disposal, Dr. Ramirez, Mr. f'Vizaza assured him, which, if true, was somewhat daunting.

All right, I'll check and let you know; do we have your phone number?

Denise cleared her throat. Actually I have that information, Dr. Ramirez, she said, and began to flip the noter page turner with greater purpose.

Excellent, he said, and beamed at Mr. f'Vizaza, who bowed and nodded and finally began to back toward the door.

May I say, he said, such an honor to be working with you, Dr. Ramirez, such an honor to be involved with this project.

And what was one supposed to say to that? We're very glad to have you, said Jared, thinking of the months in which they muddled through by themselves, the months it had taken even to get the committee together; and now it was an official project, honoring those assigned to work on it. Remarkable, he thought, and smiled Mr. f'Vizaza out the door, where he stopped to exchange a few words with someone just out of sight; Denise closed the noter, behind him, and turned, and he lifted a hand in warning.

He's just outside, he said softly, waiting; after a moment he saw the sociologist, with a swing of his tail, move off down the hall with he thought the anthropologist. Okay, he's gone, he said, taking a breath, and he turned around and sat down on the edge of the table where he could see her. Well, he said. Denise. How have you been?

Chapter 4.

Now that everyone was gone, she was looking back at him, just a little uncomfortable, he thought, but she had lost most of her teenage shyness. You actually remember, she said. All these years. I didn't know, she said, getting right down to it. I swear I didn't know. I honestly didn't connect – just the first name being the same. I don't think I ever knew your last name.

Your charming friends didn't ask for my ID, said Jared. I didn't know yours either.

I can't believe you recognize me, she said. I mean, it's been years, and it was just that one night –

Of course I remember the one that got away, said Jared, smiling; he couldn't help that. She had been young and charming, once assured that he didn't mean to haul her off to bed if she didn't want to go, and she had aroused a sort of protective, avuncular instinct in him.

Look, he said. If this is in any way uncomfortable for you, I will get you out of it, one way or another. Perhaps you'd rather work with Dr. p'Anotta? Saizy was all too well aware of the situation, but Denise would never need to know that, and she would be kind to Denise.

But Denise shook her head. Oh, no, but is it uncomfortable for you? You're not with the Agency anymore, and I know you're married now. She glanced at his wedding ring, twisted D'ubian gold set with three tiny diamonds, a match for Cara's ring. I remember, she said, that you said you didn't think that was where your relationship was going. I felt disappointed; I was very romantic then.

Well, he said, I was right; that was not where that relationship was going. That relationship ended almost two years ago; my wife and I met last spring. And no, it isn't a problem for me, your working with me, if you're not bothered by it.

I'm not, she said, and considered. Maybe a little, but it's okay. I – you made a big impression on me, you know, and it will be a little odd working with you now. And it's a really different sort of atmosphere, she added, glancing at the screens at the head of the table.

No pink hearts, he agreed, remembering the honeymoon suite without fondness. Can you get used to it?

She nodded, as one determined. It's a very – prestigious job, she said. With excellent pay; I'm saving to get into the Masters program. And I've really wanted to get back to Bridgeton. My mother moved after my father died, but I have a sister here.

You lost your father? He was sick; I remember that. I'm sorry. And I remember you mentioning a sister. She's still here?

Well, actually you know her, said Denise. She's been working with you all year on those arches. Portals. Sandra Ott.

Sandy? Oh, hell, I had no idea. Sandy! Well, that settles it; I see you're destined to be part of the team. And over the past months he had come to dislike coincidence. Denise was unaware; Sandy was unaware; he was sure of that. But he could feel the influence of – someone. He just didn't know who.

Denise, like her sister, could be read but she did not read other minds. These were ordinary Earthians, without the uncomfortable genetic heritage that set the neighborhood apart, without Ears, Big or Little. Oblivious to his dark thoughts, she chattered on, possibly a little nervous with this figure from her past, especially a person she had met under very strained circumstances. And I've really wanted to connect with Sandy. She's always too busy to talk; she won't answer my questions, and I'm worried about her. I don't know if you know anything about her personal life, but she and Lewis aren't living together now, and he seems to have the boys somewhere else. They even gave up their house here.

That, at least, was easy to explain. I do know about it, said Jared. We all do. The problem is security. Things reached such a crisis this summer that she was worried for the boys. They're down in Miramani with your mother, and Lewis is there too, and Sandy goes down on weekends and holidays; we try to give her as much time as we can. She's down there right now, in fact, for Solstice; I expect her back this weekend. She says their relationship is fine.

I didn't know that, said Denise. That is, I know the boys are with Mom a lot, but I didn't know Lewis is too. And they're living there? And she gave up the house here, so they don't expect to be back?

She stayed in their house for awhile, but the neighbors had problems with her security system, so she moved into our neighborhood; the whole team, Sandy and Patterson and Jake Weston are all boarding just down the block from work. We felt safer with everyone together, in the same area. And that was something to consider; he glanced at Denise's hands, saw a green gemstone and a yellow gemstone on her right hand, no wedding band on her left. If she was single and not yet settled in town, and a part of their work team – he knew Phyllis and Lillian had two spare rooms, with Terry and Gina living with their adopted families.

You're not married? he said, and she shook her head.

Not yet, she said. I'm waiting for the right one. Remember, you said it has to be the right one.

Very true, he said, thinking with amusement of the oracular pronouncements of a young man in his mid-twenties. He hoped that Denise hadn't taken him too seriously. Which reminds me, he said, recalling more of that evening, whatever happened to your Cousin George? I don't think Sandy's ever mentioned him.

She and Lewis got married before he moved to Bridgeton, said Denise, but he was a very good friend of mine before he stole Chuck from me. She smiled, undisturbed by the memory of an experience that had seemed much more traumatic seven years ago. And you, she continued, gave me a new perspective on that, and I've always wanted to thank you. I was only thinking then about how it hurt me, Chuck dumping me for Cousin George, and the way Bonnie laughed about it – you remember her.

Of the three little witches, he said, the head witch. I certainly do.

Denise smiled. Yes, she was. And you said, I remember, that Chuck may not have known himself before he and Cousin George – and it made me think about things from his point of view, and Cousin George's, too. So I called Cousin George and we all made up, and I was so glad. And, she added, you'll never guess what happened.

What?

I was Cousin George's maid of honor at their wedding about a year and a half ago. So it turned out to be a real romance after all.

Think of that, said Jared, amused. Secondary school sweethearts. And you're okay with it?

Oh, yes. And, she continued, poking at her noter, I'm okay with this job, if it works for you. Only what about your wife? It's not that anything happened between us; she doesn't need to know anything, and I certainly won't say anything –

No, I don't play those games, said Jared. I value my marriage; that's the surest way to ruin it that I can think of. With your permission, I'll tell her about it. If she hates the idea, I'll pass you over to Saizy, but I don't think she will. Cara is pretty special.

I'm glad, said Denise. I’m really glad for you. You certainly can tell her. And if it's a problem, I definitely understand.

"And the conniving seducer plans to get out of this one in what