'I'll be leaving later today. You scarcely need me around for your basic training.' Cerrelle's eyes went to the doorway, then back to me.
I paused, searching through the information already fed to me. 'I don't seem to have anything on basic training for interstellar pilots.'
You looked. That's good. To begin with, you'll probably be given exercises to help integrate all that data. Then more information and more complex exercises. Then the first round of physical training...' The redhead shrugged. You'll get the pattern.' Her eyes went to the doorway again.
I wondered if I wanted to understand the pattern.
'Good. They're here.'
With Cerrelle's words, my eyes turned to the couple even as they entered. She was dark-haired, slender, well endowed, and moved with almost an erotic grace. He was red-haired, tall, broad-shouldered, and athletic. Both were obviously young.
'An attractive pair, aren't they?' asked Cerrelle.
Yes,' I answered warily.
The two walked easily toward us. I decided to stand. Cerrelle did also.
'I appreciate your coming,' said my keeper. 'This is Tyndel.'
Alicia deSchmidt.' The name came with a smile.
I repressed a frown. I hadn't ever heard anyone call someone by a double name in either Dorcha or in Rykasha. Only the ancients had possessed the population density and the mobility that had made such conventions necessary.
'And this is Tomas Gomes,' added Cerrelle, sitting again herself.
'I am pleased to meet you.' The red-haired man had an accent - faint, but a definite accent. Tomas - or was he Gomes? - slipped into the chair to the left of Cerrelle, while Alicia deSchmidt sat to my left.
'Tomas and Alicia,' Cerrelle whispered, although the whisper had to have been a courtesy, since any demon could have heard.
'You're the latest refugee from Dorcha, aren't you?' Alicia's girlish voice carried an accent of sorts, one I couldn't exactly place. Perhaps she was from one of the Rykashan interstellar colonies?
'I'm definitely a refugee,' I said. 'I don't know about being the latest.'
'He's the first Dzin master we've had in a while,' added Cerrelle.
'In time, we are all refugees. Strangers finding our way in a world that grows ever less familiar.' Alicia grinned girlishly.
I blinked at the conflict between the girlish voice and the philosophical tone, between the almost childlike sensuality and the weariness of the words.
'Don't play with the boy, Alicia,' said Tomas almost languidly. His tanned skin seemed to glitter, even in the indirect light of even intensity that cast no shadows.
Boy?
'Dzin master or not, he still places too much emphasis on appearances,' added Alicia.
I still couldn't place the accent. It didn't seem like any Dhurr or Toze, or like any of the demons I'd met.
'Time for tricks?' A hint of weariness infused the young man's voice as he glanced at Cerrelle.
'It's easier,' answered Alicia.
'As you see fit,' agreed Cerrelle.
I didn't know what to think, and suspected that was exactly what the three had in mind.
The dark-haired girl slipped out of the chair and stood beside the heavy wooden table, then abruptly jumped straight up - turning the impossibly high jump into a dive that ended with her balanced in a handstand on the middle of the table. I looked again. Alicia's entire figure was balanced on one finger. Unwavering, she balanced on the center of the table, then improbably flipped herself back to the floor - off a single finger.
I wanted to shake my head. Were they playing with my vision, my perceptions?
'Is the table expendable?' asked Tomas.
'Don't waste it,' suggested Cerrelle.
Tomas nodded, then picked up one of the knives laid out in place settings. His arm blurred. The knife was buried to the hilt in the heavy oak.
'Try to remove it,' he suggested politely.
I couldn't. Instead, I ended up snapping it in half, leaving several centimeters of metal protruding above the table.
Alicia stepped up to the table. This time it was her arm that flashed, her flattened palm driving the ragged metal flush with the table. She smiled and turned her unmarked hand to me. 'Would you like to try it?'
'No, thank you.' I paused and added, 'I know my limits.'
'They won't be what you think they are,' said Tomas mildly, the softness of his voice emphasizing the accent. He picked up a fork and a spoon. His hands blurred, as though he were rolling them together, and steam - or smoke - rose from them. He extended his hand - then flipped the cylinder onto the table, where the finish blistered under the hot metal that had been separate utensils moments before.
'I am sorry,' he said to Cerrelle. 'It is harder to minimize the collateral damage.'
Collateral damage? His words, soft as they were, chilled me.
'Tomas always has been tenderhearted,' said Alicia in the same girlish voice. 'Will that do?'
'I hope so,' said Cerrelle.
My eyes flicked from her to Alicia to Tomas. Tomas shrugged apologetically.
Alicia stood. 'We're outbound again. Halcyon Four. There's been a rash of democratic heresies.'
'Democracy,' snorted Cerrelle. 'Mob rule.'
'It's slightly better than a despot.' Tomas stood.
'Only slightly,' said Cerrelle. 'Thank you and good luck.'
I watched as Alicia smiled bemusedly, and the two turned and made their graceful way from the lounge. What could I have said? Instead, I walked slowly to the built-in counter in the corner where the reformulators waited and got myself a mug of tea, very hot tea. Arleen tea. After a moment, I added a plate of Dorchan spiced pork.
Then I sat and ate and sipped the tea. The food and sipping helped the emptiness in my stomach and the lightheadedness, but not the questions that kept piling up in my mind.
Tomas and Alicia - who could bend and shape metal barehanded, balance on tabletops with one finger, and drive steel through hardwood. Tomas and Alicia, younger than I, seemingly, with an accent I had never heard. Tomas Gomes and Alicia deSchmidt, with two names in a world - human and demon - where people had but a single name.
Then there was the almost casual application of force with the hint of incredible restraint, a hint that was equally casual, matter-of-fact, so matter-of-fact that what it implied should have been obvious.
It should have been, but it wasn't, as so often had happened since I'd left Dorcha. Cerrelle had assured me that, shortly, I'd notice the lack of focus on such things as demon technology and new information less and less. But I was acutely aware of my sluggish thoughts at that moment. After finishing all the pork, I sipped the tea to the dregs and still could not focus my brain.
'We send Alicia and Tomas to where there are problems,' Cerrelle said. 'Usually that's Halcyon Four. It's the only out-system colony with multiple governments - and that's meant trouble for a long time.'
'They apply brute force?' I asked, recalling Tomas's comment about it being hard to minimize collateral damage. 'Colonies?'
'Once - well before my time - we sent them to Mettersfel to raze the old guildhall there.'
Before her time? I pursed my lips.
'It's in the records. You'd find it. That was almost seven hundred years ago.' She sipped whatever she was drinking.
'They can't be ...'
'Why? Because they look so young?' Cerrelle snorted. 'Have you seen anyone in Rykasha who looks old? Or who is physically old? What do you think nanites do for humans?'
'But... can you drive a steel knife through a table?'
'No. You might be able to someday. I don't know how they balanced your system. I wouldn't try it now. You'd drive the steel through your palm.'