Pegasus In Space Part 7

"What has a nutcracker to do with Amariyah?" and the name flowed prettily from Tirla's lips.

"Nothing, I believe. But Amariyah is the child we have come to find. Now if you will all be quiet." Carmen put a finger on the face of the child sitting so solemnly between her parents and closed her eyes.

Tirla closed her eyes, too, so she wouldn't inadvertently distract the finder. That was one parapsychic courtesy that she always observed. She was also fond of Carmen, now that she saw the great benefits that had come of Carmen finding her in the first place.

"She's quite a ways from here," Carmen finally said.

"I cannot understand what you could have been thinking!" Sister Kathleen was saying, shaking with frustration and anger. She was holding a dusty Amariyah away from her and the girl, usually so self-effacing and gentle, was trying to twist free, flailing her arms. To go right back to tearing more hair off the scalp of the hysterically weeping Lila, curled up in the wreckage of what everyone in the orphanage knew was Amariyah's garden. All the other girls were ringed about the little tableau, well out of range of either Amariyah's or Sister Kathleen's retribution, staring in round-eyed, openmouthed fascination.

"I was thinking she has killed my garden," Amariyah cried. "She is still rolling in it. You are surely seeing that much!" Too tightly held in Sister Kathleen's capable firm grip to pull more of Lila's luxuriant tresses from her head, the furious little girl now kicked dust at her victim with her bare feet.

From the comer of the main building, Sister Epiphania came rus.h.i.+ng to discover the cause of Lila's continuous shrieks. Epiphania paused a moment, taking in the incredible scene of the prostrate Lila and her colleague holding the struggling Amariyah.

"Oh, dear Lord, oh dear Lord, save us," Sister Epiphania chanted as she rushed forward to succor Lila, who screamed in terror when 'Phania touched her. She had her eyes tightly closed, as much against the dust Amariyah was kicking at her, as because she knew she had been caught doing something wicked. "Lila, dear Lila, it is I."

The voice rea.s.suring her, Lila opened her eyes enough to see that she was safe. She clung to Sister Epiphania, shrieking out that she would never be married now, with all the hair pulled from her head.

"Nonsense," Sister Kathleen said, coping with Amariyah's flailing. "Do take that . . ." Kathleen firmly closed her lips on the adjective she was going to apply to the malicious Lila, paused, and rephrased her sentence, "that child and bathe her scalp. She's by no means badly hurt. Certainly not enough to keep caterwauling." Although, she thought candidly to herself, who would marry such a mean-spirited creature was moot.

Soothingly, Sister Epiphania managed to get Lila to her feet and led her away through the circle of watching children.

"Now, Amariyah, let us deal with you," Sister Kathleen said in her firmest no-nonsense voice. "I cannot believe that you, of all the children here, would display a vicious streak!"

"She ruined my garden!" Amariyah suddenly collapsed, sinking into a pathetic bundle, tears streaming down her dusty face as she picked up first this clump of greenery and then that. She held them to her mouth, in the age-old gesture of grief, completely bereft. She did not scream, she did not sob, but the tears kept pouring out of her sorrowful blue eyes in a manner that totally unnerved Sister Kathleen.

"Oh, my dear child, do not take on so." The nun pulled the little girl up, broken plants and all, stroking the tangled hair, rocking the slender body in her arms. "You can replant the garden," she said encouragingly.

"It is the dry season," Amariyah wailed, though she surrendered to the motion of Sister Kathleen's body. "Nothing will bud or bloom in the dry season. Surely you are knowing this."

"Go about your tasks," Sister Kathleen said, realizing that the entire orphanage was avid witness to the scene. She raised one arm to scatter the audience. "Tula, Rabiah, take the was.h.i.+ng down before the sun bleaches all the color away. Soma, Lota, take the little ones to the banyan tree and finish telling them their story. Sakti, Reva, you were supposed to be drawing water. Be sure to put the jars in the shade to cool for our supper. Habibah, Risha, Uma . . . all of you big girls, you have not finished hoeing the potatoes." She shooed them all about their sundry tasks, rocking Amariyah in time to her orders.

"Now, little one, what shall I do with you?" She held the child away from her and was unutterably affected by the tears still rolling down the woebegone little face. "Never in all the time you have been with us, have you misbehaved!"

"My flowers (sob), my vege(sob)tables (sob) are all dead," and the murmured words were bitter. "Nothing I can do will bring them back to life." She opened her hands and displayed the limp and wilted remains of her once thriving plants. "Why? Why did Lila kill them? They had done her no harm. She is an a.s.sa.s.sin!"

Sister Kathleen pressed her lips together, wondering why she wanted to cry, too. Crying was not an effective answer to any problem that she knew of. She was flummoxed by the fact that this was the first time Amariyah had wept. She was such a self-contained little body, diligent with her a.s.signed tasks, willing to do anything required of her. She had been so good with the little ones when the fever struck, even deserting her garden during the emergency. Whatever had possessed Lila? Of course, the girl was older, starting her menses when, as every woman knew, females were more likely to be perverse. Especially the Bengali girls, who matured far too young, Sister Kathleen thought. Lila would soon be thirteen and all her thoughts were on marriage. The girl refused to even consider the alternatives now available to the young women of Bangladesh. Well, Kathleen thought philosophically, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it drink.

"Now, child, we will wash your face and hands and dry your tears." She rose, trying to lift Amariyah to her feet, but the girl writhed out of her grasp.

Amariyah hunkered down and began tenderly gathering up the dead stalks and stems. "You must be going into the compost. You will be going with my love because you were rewarding me with your beauty and your strength. After death there can be life in another form. It is written."

Sister Kathleen stared in surprise and watched as Amariyah finished collecting the remains and walked toward the efficient composting tank, the very welcome gift of some Ladies Group in England. Kathleen did not remember where, but the gift was much appreciated.

"When you are done, Amariyah, I will wash your face and hands."

She heard a murmured response and rather thought it had to do with being able to wash her own self without help.

Sister Kathleen shook her head, wondering if, perhaps, she should have reminded the child of her manners. A reprimand right now was inappropriate. And, besides, Amariyah was one of the few girls who could be counted on for scrupulous courtesy. Father Salih and the Bahadur had both commented on her deportment. She watched a moment longer as Amariyah returned for another load of damaged plants, her expression still woeful, but the amazing tears had stopped. Sister Kathleen turned toward the infirmary where little shrieks suggested that Sister Epiphania was anointing Lila's torn scalp. Sister Kathleen caught herself smiling. Lila deserved, at least in this small measure, physical and mental discomfort for such a random act of senseless destruction.

As the cool of evening settled in, Sister Kathleen had occasion to pa.s.s the spot where Amariyah's garden had flourished. She halted, staring at the place that had been raked clean of pebbles: not even so much as one of the twigs that had provided a little fence remained.

"Oh, dear," and Kathleen was truly and devastatingly appalled at the sight. "Oh, poor dear Amariyah!" She looked about the little clumps of girls playing games. She couldn't spot Amariyah. Of course, Amariyah was always always gardening at this hour. She looked again toward the wide-spreading limbs of the banyan tree where the girls were gathered. That is when she saw the dust cloud rising in the distance. She thought little of it, since this was the hour when people did undertake journeys, when the fierce sun was setting. gardening at this hour. She looked again toward the wide-spreading limbs of the banyan tree where the girls were gathered. That is when she saw the dust cloud rising in the distance. She thought little of it, since this was the hour when people did undertake journeys, when the fierce sun was setting.

She was astonished when twenty minutes later the st.u.r.dy ground vehicle came to a discreet halt at the orphanage gate. The driver descended and came to the gate, a Hindu to judge by her clothes and indubitably high-caste. She scolded herself briefly for adding that to her first impression. The visitor saw her and folded her hands politely, smiling such a warm greeting that Kathleen smiled back.

"Is this the Orphanage of the Holy Innocents?" the visitor asked.

"Yes, it is." Kathleen paused for the visitor to identify herself.

"I am known as Kayankira, and I am Chief of the Delhi Bureau."

Kathleen noticed that she did not explain which which bureau, but the stranger's manners and deference to her were so charming that she could not feel any harm in her. bureau, but the stranger's manners and deference to her were so charming that she could not feel any harm in her.

"I am Sister Kathleen Rose. I am in charge here. My colleague is Sister Epiphania Gibson."

"Ah, Sister Kathleen," the Bureau Chief said with another polite bow, "allow me to present my companions?" She turned to a woman of at least forty years, with the most serene face the Sister had ever seen on a layperson. "This is Carmen Stein, an old friend of mine. Here is also her young friend, Tirla Tunnelle, who is traveling just now in Bangladesh. Also Peter Reidinger. And last but never least is my old friend, Lance Baden."

Sister Kathleen acknowledged the introductions in a sort of daze. Then Sister Epiphania came rus.h.i.+ng out to stand beside her and the introductions were repeated. Sister Kathleen was aware that Carmen Stein was looking about from one knot to another of giggling girls, who had now realized the orphanage had received visitors of some importance. She did notice the tension in both Ms. Stein and in Tirla.

Suddenly, interrupting Lance Baden just as he was about to explain their presence here, Tirla went rigid and pointed.

"She's there."

"Yes, she is," Carmen replied, a rush of relief and inexplicable joy flowing across her face. Lord, but she's broadcasting enough frustration and outrage for even Tirla to hear it. Lord, but she's broadcasting enough frustration and outrage for even Tirla to hear it. "May we?" "May we?"

"I don't understand," Sister Kathleen began, automatically taking a step to impede any invasion of the orphanage s.p.a.ce.

"It is all right," Lance Baden said, stepping forward and taking her hands in his.

And suddenly Sister Kathleen knew it was, though she didn't know why or how. These people, even the gawky boy, radiated goodwill and confidence in the rightness of their presence here, this evening in the little orphanage outside Bogra. Kathleen Rose stepped back, wondering how they had disarmed her so completely.

"Oh, I'm so happy for her," Sister Epiphania said in a tremulous voice.

"Happy for who?" Kathleen asked, staring in amazement at her fellow nun.

"You know?" Lance Baden asked Epiphania who smiled beatifically at him.

"For Amariyah, of course," ' Phania said as if that were obvious.

"I don't understand " Kathleen said, shaking her head.

The dark girl, who looked part-Asian, was hurrying through the yard, past Amariyah's former garden, the boy following in a most unusual gliding step. Ms. Stein followed more slowly, as if savoring the moment.

"Yes, we are come for Amariyah Bantam," Kayankira said. "It has taken a long while to go through all the records after the flood, Sister Kathleen." She held out a sweat-stained journal and opened to the page containing a photograph. Kathleen was arrested by the picture of a much younger Amariyah, sitting straight and proud between two lovely people who obviously adored their child.

"Oh!" The odd distancing Kathleen experienced was obliterated by a sense of tremendous loss, the loss of Amariyah. "Oh, dear Lord, I don't think the child ever did wash her hands and face, or comb her hair. It's all full of dead leaves."

"Ah," and Kayankira smiled understandingly, as if she knew all about the garden and Amariyah's most uncharacteristic attack on Lila. "It is as nothing, for the essence of the child is known."

The two Sisters now hurriedly followed the others toward the tree. How had this Tirla seen Amariyah? She was on the far side of the thick tree trunk, not at all visible from the gate. Yet, as the visitors, the nuns in their wake, skirted the girls, Tirla had reached Amariyah. She hunkered down and began talking earnestly-in Bangla-to the blue-eyed orphan. The tall boy hovered behind Tirla as Ms. Stein joined them, the most beautiful smile on her face as she leaned down, touching Amariyah gently on the forehead.

"We have come for you, Amariyah Bantam. You will have a garden all to yourself and no one will defile it."

Those remarks stopped Sister Kathleen in her tracks, blinking in astonishment. Then it suddenly dawned on her that these people were psychics. They could read minds-and feelings. She hugged herself, even though she knew that the Church was tolerant of such phenomena, and worried about what her mind might have revealed to them.

Just then the squeal of brakes and the smell of petrol in the heavy air distracted her. Father Salih, too? Well, they had had the courtesy to inform him him. That was correct. As if the photograph were not confirmation of her unusual waif's ident.i.ty. But she must know more before she released the child to their care. Ms. Stein was not a relative; although she was dark, she bore no resemblance to Amariyah. The birth mother had the same black hair as her daughter, with glints of red. Both parents had intelligent blue eyes.

"I have come as fast as it is possible to travel," Father Salih was explaining as he joined those now observing Amariyah, Tirla, and Carmen Stein. The boy, Peter, still hovered, not intruding but very interested. Lance Baden and the Bureau Chief had stopped a distance from the trio, and now turned to shake hands with Father Salih. "Sister Kathleen, Sister Epiphania, it is all according to protocol. The bishop of Dhaka himself is rea.s.suring me. He is calling me on the system." In excitement Father Salih often reverted to a purely Bangla cadence. "He is giving his approval for these good people to take our Amariyah with them. They are being most respectable folk, to guard, guide, and educate her. I am giving you rea.s.surances on that head."

Father Salih tended to be overly courteous but Sister Kathleen thought he would bow himself off his hips any moment if he weren't careful. His eyes kept flicking to Amariyah, seated under the tree. She had ignored the approach of Tirla and Ms. Stein but when the woman had so gently touched her, she had begun to shake off her apathy, regarding them with gradually widening, surprised eyes.

"Oh, dear Lord," 'Phania murmured distractedly in Kathleen's ear, "just look at the state of her. Her hair," a little moan, "and she didn't really wash her face before supper."

"No one has noticed, nor is it important," Kathleen replied, sighing for the hole she knew would be Amariyah's absence from her life. But at least the mystery of the orphan from Sirjganj was solved. Her parents had been married; she had been loved and cared for as a child.

Lance Baden, whose accent she had now recognized as Australian, was addressing her. He was holding out official-looking doc.u.ments, handing her his personal card. Blinking at it, she saw that he was from the Adelaide Center, not bureau, of the Parapsychic.

"Kayankira has been a.s.sisting us in finding young Amariyah. I knew her parents, Tony and Nadezhda Bantam. We met at area conferences, Sister Kathleen, so when he and his wife were listed as missing, I tried-unsuccessfully, I'm sorry to say-to locate them. We had a.s.sumed that Amariyah, here, had also perished. Carmen Stein," and he gestured to the woman who was now kneeling in front of Amariyah and gently holding her by the hand, "located her this morning."

"You are psychics, aren't you?" Sister Kathleen heard herself asking.

Lance gave her an understanding, kind smile. "We are."

"She loves things that grow," Kathleen said, and then pointed to the raked s.p.a.ce by the outside fence. "Her garden! She could make anything grow, even in the dry season." Kathleen blinked, wondering why she should think that would interest this man. Absently she handed the doc.u.ments to Father Salih, who had politely stretched out his hand for them.

"Really?" and the single word was imbued with keen interest, not bored inquiry. "We shall encourage it."

"She'll settle in better with you if she has a garden." Then Kathleen gave herself a stem shake. "Where are you taking her? Does she have family?"

"Yes. She will have family now."

"Blood kin?" Kathleen didn't know why she insisted.

"No, closer."

Then Father Salih intruded on this quiet exchange, tapping the doc.u.ments he was still holding. "Ah yes, now we know her surname. You must sign here, Sister Kathleen," he said, handing her the papers and his pen. Then he turned around so she could use his back as a writing surface and she signed in her distinctive scrawl. Father Salih filled the s.p.a.ce for witness with his precise tight handwriting.

"I think she's glad to be going," Sister Epiphania murmured to Kathleen, sounding upset.

"If she goes to where she will have a garden that will not be uprooted," Kathleen began, "she will not fret." She paused, controlling her private regret at losing the girl. "She is sure to be happy among those who are now her guardians." Kathleen turned back again to Lance, touched his arm. "Is she psychic?"

"Possibly. That is why Carmen was able to locate her. She is young yet. Who knows where her Talent will lie?"

"In gardening, of course," Sister 'Phania said, as close to being indignant as her gentle soul could get.

"Yes, gardening," Lance replied. "Exactly so."

The other girls had turned silent, their wide brown eyes watching. Lila had thrown the end of her sari over her face and she was visibly fuming that so much attention was being paid Amariyah. She glowered as Tirla, holding Amariyah's hand, walked with the boy Peter and Ms. Stein to where the other visitors were standing.

"She wants wants to come with us," Tirla announced to all as if there had been any doubt. "She's to have a garden." Tirla stopped and uncannily turned to stare at Lila, who gave another shriek and buried her face in her hands. "We will see that no one disturbs it." to come with us," Tirla announced to all as if there had been any doubt. "She's to have a garden." Tirla stopped and uncannily turned to stare at Lila, who gave another shriek and buried her face in her hands. "We will see that no one disturbs it."

With that, Tirla led Amariyah, who did not so much as look in Lila's direction, toward the gate. As if in a daze, Amariyah turned back and, folding her hands in front of her chest, gave the two Sisters a deep bow.

"I thank you for your help and kindness," she said in a formal tone. "I leave in sadness."

Only Carmen and Tirla knew that there was no sadness at all in her mind as she proceeded to the ground vehicle.

"Go with G.o.d, child," Kathleen said, making a quick sign of the cross at the departing orphan.

"Oh, dear, dear, dear," Sister Epiphania said, wringing her hands until Kathleen patted them rea.s.suringly.

"You will forgive our haste, Sister Kathleen, Sister Epiphania," Kayankira was saying with much saluting and bowing. "We have come far today, we must return. We will send you a picture of Amariyah in her new home. She will be encouraged to write you. You will be happy for her. We are happy to have found her."

Father Salih was again folding himself near in half, agreeing with everything the Delhi Bureau Chief was saying, which Lance Baden reaffirmed as they reached the ground vehicle and began climbing into it, Tirla ushering Amariyah in front of her, then sitting protectively beside her. The boy seemed to slide upward and took the jump seat while Lance settled in the driver's seat with Kayankira beside him. Sisters Kathleen and Epiphania waved, Father Salih kept bowing, and then all the remaining girls-except Lila-rushed to the fence to wave and shriek farewell, good luck, and be healthy. The nuns made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads in prayer.

It took all Sister Kathleen's store of reserve to continue with the evening. First she had to rea.s.sure Father Salih, who was having second thoughts-even though the bishop had authorized the transfer-about the sudden departure of the little one. Then she had to comfort Sister Epiphania and see the girls into their dormitories and settled for the night. Lila had been reduced to total silence by the inequity of Amariyah's leaving when she she was still in the orphanage and unmarried. was still in the orphanage and unmarried.

Her duties ended, Sister Kathleen climbed into the scant privacy offered by mosquito netting in the tiny room she shared with Epiphania. As she said her rosary, calmness seeped through her, and her aching, empty heart. She fell asleep and dreamed of Amariyah in a garden of unusual blooms and plants, all thriving because of Amariyah's loving care.

Amariyah herself was asleep at this point, held on Carmen Stein's lap as Peter Reidinger took them back to Jerhattan, their mission accomplished.

4.

"She's got a psionic mental signature," Dorotea told Rhyssa when they had put the sleeping child to bed in the room Tirla had once occupied in Dorotea's neat little house on the Henner estate. Despite her eighty-odd years, Dorotea sat bolt upright on the edge of her chair. Perhaps the gla.s.s of brandy was out of character for what she called her "sweet harmless old lady" look, but she needed the drink. The pregnant Rhyssa was sipping cranberry juice.

"You can't guess what? Telepath, telekinetic, telempathy?" Rhyssa asked. Dorotea was their preeminent a.s.sessor of psychic abilities.

Dorotea shook her head, sighed in a heavy gust, and took another sip of her drink.

"Much too young to a.s.sess but it is is there. She had quite a traumatic day." Dorotea held up her hand as Rhyssa started to protest. there. She had quite a traumatic day." Dorotea held up her hand as Rhyssa started to protest. No, not the kinetic jump. She was fast asleep in Carmen's lap. Lance Baden knew better than to give her more to deal with. No, not the kinetic jump. She was fast asleep in Carmen's lap. Lance Baden knew better than to give her more to deal with. "No, Igot the awful distress of that little witch uprooting her plants just to be malicious. That garden meant more to Amariyah than anything else. Food or drink or shelter. She doesn't like water." Dorotea grinned. A bath had definitely been in order for the dusty, disheveled child before settling her between clean sheets. Tirla had solved the little contretemps over getting into a bathtub by flinging off her own clothes and climbing in first. "Except to use on plants, of course." "No, Igot the awful distress of that little witch uprooting her plants just to be malicious. That garden meant more to Amariyah than anything else. Food or drink or shelter. She doesn't like water." Dorotea grinned. A bath had definitely been in order for the dusty, disheveled child before settling her between clean sheets. Tirla had solved the little contretemps over getting into a bathtub by flinging off her own clothes and climbing in first. "Except to use on plants, of course."

"It'd be normal for her to have a trauma about water, nearly drowning in the flood," Rhyssa said.

"Hmmm, yes," Dorotea murmured through the gla.s.s at her lips. She took a good swig. "However, she's unlikely to have that that particular problem here in Jerhattan unless she falls in the fish pond. Since she also has no living relatives, and she particular problem here in Jerhattan unless she falls in the fish pond. Since she also has no living relatives, and she does does exhibit Talent, we'll just have her made a ward of the Center. We've done that before to rescue children from far worse circ.u.mstances. Besides which, I can use help in the garden now it's springtime. Or supposed to be." exhibit Talent, we'll just have her made a ward of the Center. We've done that before to rescue children from far worse circ.u.mstances. Besides which, I can use help in the garden now it's springtime. Or supposed to be."

"Are you willing to mind her?" Rhyssa was surprised. She had half planned to take the child into her home. Install her with two parental figures. That is, until Dorotea caught sight of the little waif.

"Well, you've moved Tirla out on me," and Dorotea gave a disapproving sniff, "though she enjoys the life with Lessud and Shria in their Linear." Dorotea gave another sniff, for she certainly wouldn't have fancied such a lifestyle. "You have enough on your plate with the Center and being pregnant. And you certainly don't need another child in the house when your son arrives."

Involuntarily Rhyssa's hand went to her abdomen. "Well, I have no objections to accommodating her."

"I do," said Dorotea. "I think I'm the right person for her. We can review this in a few weeks' time." She shook a finger at Rhyssa. "No one wants you overburdened, my dear. There! That's settled. You'd better get back to your house. Dave'll be in soon and he'll want to hear all about this."