Channel's Destiny

One eager listener was Jimmy Norton. In fact, the next day Jimmy sought Zeth out, promising to break the habits he had learned among the Freehand Raiders. He had been wasting

selyn augmenting, making a nuisance of himself. Ever since Fort Freedom had been built there had been a firm rule: no augmenting within the gates. Bowling over Gens or children in a fit of high spirits was not to be tolerated.

But after Bekka's disjunction, Jimmy was a different person. "Zeth, I want transfer from you from now on."

"Jimmy, we've got you scheduled for Jord, because–"

"I know why, and I don't want that! Please, Zeth, help make it safe for me to be around my father or my sister without three other people to grab me if I try to kill one of them!" He blinked back tears. "I'm never going to kill again. I swore that with Mr. Veritt. I want to be like you, Zeth. Oh, God, how I wish—" He broke off, setting his jaw firmly. "It's my responsibility. Bekka decided not to kill—I zli

"I'll do everything I can to help you, Jimmy," said Zeth, thinking, If a Freehand Raider can disjunct by his own will, that should prove there Is no demon.

Even with Jimmy Norton on his schedule, Zeth's simulation of killbliss did not improve, creating great difficulties in juggling the schedule. He could handle the sheer numbers of transfers his father had, but he could not satisfy all his father's clients.

"You're afraid of the kill," said Owen after another session in which the complaint had been raised against Zeth. "Why are you so frightened? You won't be tempted to kill. Even if you were, you don't think I'd let you?"

"I don't require you to keep the demons away," Zeth snapped.

"Come on, Zeth—you know that's superstition. It's like Abel said: you take care of other Simes, and I take care of you. It all works out equally between Simes and Gens."

"No, Owen. It leaves Gens ru

"I'm not—"

"Oh, yeah? Don't tell me you don't know what you're doing right now, trying to calm me down when I don't want to calm down! I want to think. Why don't you just run along and see Sue Norton? I'm going to visit my father."

The Nortons were back again, along with Glian Lodge, all staying with Del Erick. Del, however, was in Rimon's sickroom, high-field—the visit of his Gen guests was timed for that—and therefore no irritation to Rimon. Zeth had noticed

how carefully Del timed his visits, and how faithfully he came, despite Rimon's indifference.

"You should have zli

"Over at your house. I don't have to have a watchdog every minute!"

"Hey," said Del, "nobody said you did. I was just asking about my son. What's wrong, Zeth?"

Rimon seemed not to have noticed either Del's conversation or Zeth's entrance. A

The silence stretched until Zeth blurted, "I'm tired of Owen pushing me around."

"Does he?" asked Del. "Just to exercise power?"

"No," Zeth admitted. "He thinks it's for my own good."

"Maybe he's a little tactless? Should I talk to him, Zeth? I can't fully understand the relationship between a cha

But Zeth couldn't explain. Owen wasn't tactless. He was just supremely confident . . . and Zeth wasn't. He found himself saying exactly that to Del.

"And why do you think that is?" Del asked.

"Because Owen has faced death," Zeth realized, "and I haven't. I thought I had when I was trapped in the stable at Mountain Chapel but I didn't really come close to dying, because of Owen."

Del smiled. "And so you resent Owen's ability to take care of you. I can remember Rimon and Kadi arguing over the same problem." He looked hopefully toward Rimon, his field ringing with expectancy, but Zeth's father did not respond.

"Dad's getting worse," said Zeth.

"It's chronic need. Get one good transfer into him—"

"Who's going to do it?" Zeth demanded. "Owen's his only match!"

After a pause, Del said, "If you can face that, Zeth—if you can give up Owen, just once, you'll conquer the feeling that he's controlling you."

Zeth considered, automatically blending his nager into the room to ease his father's aching fields while at the same time choking down the panic Del's suggestion brought. Then, in desperation, he said, "I could match him now!"

In a very sad, quiet tone, Del said, "Rimon—needs– killbliss. Kadi could let him have that."

"Well, Owen doesn't have it to give. But I could learn. I've got to learn!" He hoped he hid from Del the irrational panic that accompanied that resolve.

That evening, Zeth tackled Jord, convincing him to let Zeth watch him giving transfer to a junct. Dan Whelan, Uel's father, volunteered since he was .lord's last client of the day. "I guess," he said nervously, "this is the only way you can learn. And if it saves Rimon—"

"Come on, Dan," prompted Jord. Zeth went hyperconscious, watching as Jord's show-field rose to entice Dan into transfer contact. Zeth concentrated, letting the fields soak through his system. Dan's draw was a savage ripping away of selyn, shallow and slow compared to the cha

No! Without conscious intent, Zeth was duoconscious, his showfield dominating the room, damping down every shred of that mounting bliss he could not face. Dan Whelan wrenched away from Jord in a thudding agony of shen.

"Out!" Jord shouted at Zeth, and moved to grasp the older man's tentacles. When Zeth didn't move, Jord growled, "Out before I shen you!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he groped for the door. Afterwards, Uel found him on the steps of the chapel.

"Zeth, you'll freeze to death out here. Come on inside. I have an idea."

Reluctantly, Zeth went with him, knowing that Owen had put him up to this. And sure enough, Hank and Owen were waiting with Jord in the chapel. Both Jord and Zeth apologized,

and Uel said, "None of us is qualified to teach Zeth. But we've got to improvise until Rimon gets better."

He went on to suggest how Zeth could participate in a junct's transfer without over-controlling Jord, by emptying his secondary system into Uel's so that he couldn't grab the fields. It took all day to set it up, Zeth and Uel giving transfers without accepting donations, in order to empty their systems. Even so, Zeth's "small" amount of selyn nearly staggered Uel.

Margid Veritt was the next volunteer, over lord's objection. "You're too deep into need, Mother. Dan was early—"

"There's no point in delaying then, is there?" she asked, and Zeth found his own throat tightening at the shrill tremor in her usually low-pitched voice. He could not seem to grow used to the trembling anxiety of need in the people who had been strong adults to him all his life.

Selyn flowed, and Margid's field erupted with pleasure as Jord provided resistance. Desire peaked into pain, reveling in pain, sadistic pleasure, pain as pleasure—