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A Matter of Honor Part 18

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"Are you all right?" he asked again.

She took a quick self-inventory, decided she was well if uncomfortable, and rea.s.sured him. "I am unharmed, though I will have a headache for some time. What did you do?"

He hesitated for a moment, looking her over carefully. "I'm not certain. Nothing seemed to be working, so I tried picturing a giant anaconda--that's a Terran snake--wrapped around you, contracting. I finally got it good and clear, and you collapsed. Are you sure you're all right?"

Corina growled softly, disgusted at herself. "Blades! I should have thought of that. Unless you concentrate on words, I keep getting pictures from you. I should have realized your primary orientation was visual, and guided you--"

"Oh, no, you don't," Medart interrupted. "If there's any chewing out to be done around here, I'll take care of it. You said it yourself: everyone's different, and you're not that familiar with human patterns.



And you've never taught before. You can't be expected to antic.i.p.ate everything at once."

He gave her a quizzical look that reminded her of their first meeting.

"I hadn't realized how different in some ways, and how similar in others, Irschchans and humans are until your s.h.i.+eld fell. I seemed to almost be you for a couple of seconds, just before you blacked out. I glimpsed a lot of things, but I couldn't understand more than half of them."

Corina was sitting unsupported now, with Medart squatting on his heels facing her. She stared at him, then started searching intensively through her memories of the last few minutes. Her s.h.i.+eld was still down, and Medart followed her thoughts with no difficulty.

*Eyes closed . . . five minutes, then . . . picture . . . What's he--*

Then an image of herself tangled in an exaggeration of Medart's visualization, a confused jumble that reminded the Ranger of multi-colored spaghetti. She started probing at it, using his actual visualization to guide her as she finally tugged at what appeared to be a key strand. That made the 'spaghetti' disappear, releasing a flood of concept/imagery/experience into her mind, understandable only in fragments that seemed to flow past and through her.

"Pattern rapport," she breathed in wonder.

"Right, I got that much," Medart said. "But what is it? I'm not sure I understand anything about it but its name."

"It is an extremely unusual stress phenomenon," Corina said, picking her words with care. "It occurs when two very similar mind patterns are in close physical proximity and under considerable stress.

Something--the Order is not sure what, but the most respected theory is both underminds acting as one--apparently 'decides' to relieve the stress by combining whatever memories can be used to accomplish that purpose."

"But aren't human and Irschchan patterns too different for that to happen?" Medart objected. "That's what you seemed to think earlier, at least."

"I believed so, yes," Corina said slowly. "Yet the Order's millennia of experience cannot be totally wrong. It had to be pattern rapport."

"Then either human and Irschchan patterns are closer than anyone's ever suspected . . ."

"Or it is our own two basic patterns which are in phase."

"Uh-huh, that could-- Hey! Remember, I told you I had more trouble reading Sunbeam than I did reading you?"

"That must be the case, then, but I would like to know--" Corina cut that thought off before it could go somewhere she didn't want to follow.

Medart, though he wasn't about to broadcast it, had a pretty good idea what the pattern rapport might mean. He wasn't at all familiar yet with Talent, granted, but he did know what his problem was. Apparently so did what she called her undermind, and it agreed with him. "I'd suggest a hearty meal and a good night's sleep," he said. "That was a shock to both of us, and we'll solve our problems better in the morning, when we've rested and steadied down."

Corina nodded agreement. "That sounds most reasonable. We do both need time to integrate the . . . new experiences. I would say you in particular; I at least knew of the possibility, though I never thought it would happen to me."

Medart chuckled. "Don't be too sure who needs it more. I've been through something similar--you studied the Sandeman Annexation, of course."

"Of course," Corina agreed, puzzled.

"I needed to learn as much as I could about them, as quickly as possible, and Gaelan DarShona, who had sworn personal fealty to Baron Klaes, agreed to a mind-probe. You know about those?"

"I have heard of them," Corina said. "An artificial form of telepathy the Order considers repugnant."

"Close enough. At any rate, I had Gaelan given a deep, full-experience probe, with myself hooked up as the receiver. So I've already 'been'

one other person. You haven't."

"That may indeed make a difference," Corina agreed. "I wonder if I will experience that part, or if it was bypa.s.sed as unnecessary."

"I imagine you'll find out. If you do, I'm sure you'll find it both interesting and different. For now, though, let's go eat."

Corina followed him to the shuttle, conscientiously trying not to think about the rapport, but with only moderate success. It was less the contents of the transfer that concerned her, than the reason for it.

Her undermind must be trying to tell her something, but what? And . . . did she really want to know?

The shuttle, at Medart's instructions, took them to Mess Three. "With Sunbeam a.s.signed to you, she's probably staying on the day-s.h.i.+ft schedule, so she'd be going to eat about now. She should be able to keep our minds off anything too serious, as long as we don't start talking shop."

"Do you eat there often?" Corina asked, glad of the change of subject.

"Fairly often," Medart replied. "I like the relaxed atmosphere, even if it is a bit on the noisy side occasionally. It was stiff the first few times, right after I took over Chang, until they adapted. It wouldn't be quite acceptable for me to join in the horseplay, but n.o.body minds as long as I just watch and listen."

Sunbeam was indeed in the mess, standing at the row of autochefs with Major Dawson. Medart and Corina got in line behind them and, when Sunbeam turned around, were invited to join the pair. They agreed; it was, after all, what they had hoped for. Corina decided on h.e.l.lbeast steak again; it was becoming one of her staples, since Sunbeam had introduced her to it. Besides that, she ordered two things she hadn't yet tried--a taco and tapioca pudding--and her usual milk.

Medart looked at her tray. "That's quite an a.s.sortment you've got there. What're you trying to do, sample everything on board?"

"Not quite, though I am trying a number of things. It appears I will be aboard for some time, and I prefer variety. The tastes are strange, but some are quite good."

They were carrying their orders to the table when Medart noticed something seemed to be missing. "No coffee?"

Corina shook her head. "No. I cannot understand how you can drink something so corrosive, much less appear to enjoy it."

"It's an acquired taste," the Ranger agreed. They sat down as he continued, "But the Navy seems to run on it, and I'll admit to drinking more than I should."

"Drink what?" Sunbeam asked, having missed the first part of the conversation.

"Coffee," Medart replied. "Sir Corina thinks we're crazy to drink it."

Sunbeam giggled. "If she thinks coffee's bad, she should try tea!"

"I did!" Corina said emphatically, trying to imitate Sunbeam's gaiety.

"The things you humans ingest and claim to enjoy, it is a wonder that you survive at all."

"It's not that bad," Sunbeam said, still amazing Corina with her ability to eat and talk simultaneously--and neatly. "You remember Major Dawson, don't you, Sir Corina? His name's Pat; we got to talking while you were ha.s.sling with Colonel Greggson. He's going to coach me in unarmed combat--he's the s.h.i.+p's men's champion, since Lieutenant DarLeras says it wouldn't be proper for him to compete with non-warriors--and he thinks I may have a chance at the women's champions.h.i.+p next month."

"You must be quite good, then," Corina said.

"What ha.s.sle with Greggson?" Medart demanded.

"It was nothing serious," Corina said, and summarized the incident for him. "I was nervous, but not badly upset."

"That's good," Medart said, then continued silently. *Maybe it doesn't bother you, but it does me. I'll let it go for now, since His Majesty's already warned him and I have a feeling we may need his s.h.i.+eld, but if he tries anything else, I want to know about it right away.*

Corina was impressed by his seriousness. *Yes, Ranger.*

The spoken conversation continued on a light tone, with Sunbeam as usual carrying most of it. Corina was almost silent, content merely to absorb the alien atmosphere and continue accustoming herself to it.

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