Jim Baen's Universe

Introducing: Stories by new authors

Homo Sylvanus

Written by Amber D. Sistla

Illustrated by Anna Repp

Brennan Candler slouched on his chair in one of the observation decks that dotted the surface of the Vishnu Dreaming. The domed, nullglass roof stretched above him. Stars streamed past him on all sides, disappearing before his eyes had time to focus on them. Just like me, he thought. A quick flash, then gone before anyone has time to notice me. Or care. His rumpled shirt stretched uncomfortably across his stomach. He shifted position and tugged at the straining fabric then sighed. He'd abandoned his exercise regimen, and it showed.

"Oh, I am so glad to see that someone else has decided to forgo stasis for the trip," said a contralto voice.

Brennan glanced behind him and caught sight of a platinum-haired beauty staring at him. He scrambled to his feet, brought both hands together, and bowed at the visitor. He hadn't expected this little colonial expedition to have a reverend assigned to it.

She wore the dark grey, utilitarian uniform of the clergy, but she made it seem stylish. Her pale skin glowed under the artificial light in the spaceship. Straight hair, long enough to fall to her waist, eddied around her face and shoulders in the low gravity. Not like Jyotika who always kept her shoulder length curly hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her green eyes flicked up and down the length of him; his ears warmed under their admiring gaze. So unlike Jyotika's brown eyes which promised warmth but in the end gave none.

The woman held her hand out. "Hello. Please don't be so formal. I'm Abra Taylor. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Brennan sent a query on her name to his neurolink. He took her hand. It was warm and soft. Jyotika's work-callused hands had always been cool. Stop thinking about her; she made her feelings plain enough. "Nice to meet you, Reverend. I'm Brennan Candler."

Abra gasped, clearly delighted. "Not Brennan Candler the botageneticist? I read your latest article in the Geneticist stream. It was so insightful. I've been dying to meet you. And please call me Abra."

Brennan felt the warmth in his ears spread to his face and tried to keep his composure despite the full-fledged blush. Jyotika had never read his articles. The neurolink sent a blinking light to his peripheral vision, and he pulled up the reply to his query. He stored the articles for later, and glanced over her stats: recently graduated theologian, specialty human DNA, with highest honors. Bright future for a rising star. Not like me. His voice came out devoid of emotion. "I'm flattered."

Abra's smile faded, and she looked quizzically at him.

I shouldn't take it out on her, Brennan thought; she's just trying to be friendly. He plastered a smile on his face. "Are you part of the crew or a colonist?"

Abra's smile returned. "Neither. To complete my investiture requirements, I signed up to be in charge of the gravidus machines in the nursery and then continue on for a ten-year stint in the research module they're going to drop on the planet. It's simple stuff, and it gives me lots of time to work on my dissertation. And as soon as I heard Captain Jyotika Diwan was assigned to the ship, I signed up. How often do you get the chance to travel with a legend? How about you? Crew or colonist?"

Brennan shifted uncomfortably. He knew the only reason Jyotika had been assigned to the menial task of colonist transport was because of his condition; it didn't even require her to be out of stasis until the end of the journey when the majority of the colonists awakened. "Also, neither. My wife is the captain."

Abra's eyes widened. "Perhaps you can introduce us?"

"Once we arrive. She's in stasis for the journey." Brennan saw her swallow the inevitable question. Husbands and wives didn't usually have divergent stasis schedules. He shrugged. He owed it to Jyotika. He supposed she could have canceled the marriage contract. Her reputation would likely have survived the ignominy. But he certainly would never have gotten another contract with a child clause, not with his condition.

Brennan thought of Tamsyn growing in one of the gravidus machines. For that alone, he owed Jyotika. By the time they reached the planet, the marriage contract would expire. Jyotika would be a free woman; she'd get good assignments again. And I? I will be an old man.

Abra tilted her head, and her hair cascaded over her shoulder. She studied him for a moment, then a mesmerizing smile eclipsed the thoughtful expression on her face. "But you are a true scientist, and couldn't stand to be away from the info streams, right?"

"Sure."

"If you have time, could I sometimes talk with you about my thesis? They have a mentor stream setup for me, but having someone of your caliber to talk to in real time would be amazing."

She seemed so young, Brennan thought. And why not? Like most citizens of Ecclesia, the Church-government of Divine Humanity, she had centuries ahead of her; she didn't have death looming ever closer. Not like me. "Of course, I'd be happy to help. I haven't really studied human DNA since I graduated, and I wasn't clergy-bound so even those classes were very basic, but I'll do what I can. What's your thesis?"

"Isolation and therapy for the longevity treatment resistant sequence."

The copious amounts of blood that had earlier fueled his blush now drained from his head. Lightheaded, he struggled to maintain a detached tone to his voice. "What?" He searched her face. Does she know about me? But no, that was impossible, he thought. Information about his condition was not public knowledge. There'd be no way for her to know.

Abra smiled. "I know, I know what you're thinking. My professors said the same thing. Too ambitious. So many scientists have already looked and thrown up their hands in failure—"

"Not in failure. Why chase an impossibility? Once it was found that the longevity resistance sequence has some overlap with the soul sequence, it made any therapy futile. Why extend someone's life if it destroys their soul in the process?" Brennan remembered a class in his undergrad studies when they'dviewed the remains of someone who'd had their soul sequence tampered with by an illegal gene shop. After the DNA bonds had disintegrated, only an amorphous,smelly pile of gel remained. He'd decided at that point to forgo the clergy and human DNA studies in favor of the study of soul-less plants.

Abra glared at him. "Obviously my therapy would not advocate turning them into mush. I want to investigate if it's a full overlap. I know the disorder is rare, but I think it's unfair that we've given up on the subset of people afflicted with this. Is it right that we happily live long lives while they face early deaths? I want to put a stop to it." Her face was animated, passionate, and sincere.

Jyotika had also been a champion of the disadvantaged; it was one of the things he had loved about her. Stop thinking about her. "That sounds beyond my field of expertise. You better direct your queries to the mentor stream."

"But, I need exactly your expertise. I think by looking at other species it'll give new insight for this. I've read about long-lived trees. The Methuselah trees, right? How long do they live?"

"They live thousands of years."

Abra nodded, a triumphant expression on her face. "Imagine being able to live thousands of years without longevity treatments. I want your help to isolate what sequence allows them to do that. They don't have souls, so we can tinker with the DNA more than we could for humans. Then we can splice it into a human sequence—"

Brennan had been caught up in her excitement, but the thought of splicing non-human into human DNA brought him back to reality. His voice was harsh. "I'll have nothing to do with anything illegal."

She hesitated a moment then gave him an offended look. "How dare you suggest such a thing?" She tapped the silver double-helix that twined around the upper sleeve of her uniform. "I take my vows very seriously. The experiment I'm proposing is for simulation only, of course. It will never be used on a real human. This is a pure research project. Of course, we will not actually splice tree DNA into human DNA. It's a simulation. You know, not real?"

Brennan frowned at the technicality. The thought of splicing non-human DNA into human DNA, even in simulation made him uncomfortable. She's a reverend; it must be okay, right? "But—"

"Of course we would never try to instantiate it. It's just to stimulate new ways of thinking. A way to understand ourselves better by comparing and contrasting with other species. What better way to do that than splicing things together? Think of all the people that the research could help. Can you imagine the pain they go through? Especially the ones with children."

That caught his attention. "What do you mean: especially the ones with children?"

"Any children of longevity resistant people have a higher likelihood of also being longevity resistant."

Chilled, Brennan rubbed at the goose bumps that sprouted on his arms. "I hadn't read that research—"

"Oh, that. I'll zap it to you." She concentrated for a moment.

Brennan's neurolink blinked a light in his peripheral vision, notifying him that he'd received the documents. He saved them without opening. Abra's matter-of-fact attitude already had him convinced. He thought of Tamsyn. Could she get this from me? "Reverend Taylor, I think your project is commendable. Please, don't hesitate to come to me for any help."

She preened and tapped his arm. "Call me Abra; don't make me remind you again. I'll be seeing you around."

Brennan watched her walk away. Maybe my last few years will have some excitement after all. Academic excitement, he thought with bitterness. With his condition, he didn't have any right to think of romantic excitement. He patted his belly, then stood up straight, trying to diminish the bulge. He accessed his neurolink and instructed it to schedule him time in the gym.

****

It's time; past time. Brennan rubbed his eyes, then noticed a light blinking in his peripheral vision: Abra was requesting a virtSession. He thought about his task at hand; later, he promised himself, I'll tell Tamsyn later.

Brennan closed his eyes and instructed his neurolink to begin the collaborative virtSession. Abra's avatar grinned at him, and he couldn't help but grin back. Her enthusiasm was infectious. He wasn't sure what he would have done without Abra and the project to work on. It had made the past twelve years aboard ship fly.

"I've got something that will make Methuselah very interesting." She pulled up a skew.

Brennan scanned the data and frowned. "What is this? Did you do this?"

"It's brilliant isn't it? One of the clerics in the Ministry of Research sent it to me to study as an example of DNA theory."

"But it's . . ." Stopping himself before he said illegal, he looked at the data and back to her again. If a cleric sent it, it must be okay. Right?

"Amazing, right? Government simulators are phenomenal. I thought we could add it to our Methuselah simulation. It's modeled on the matter converter units. It uses solar power to convert input fuel into the necessary nutrients. The surface of the skin is tweaked to process solar energy. With some toggles, the body hairs can wick things from the subject's environment to the matter converter—microorganisms, dust, anything they touch." She giggled. "They'd be very clean."

Did she just call this major genetic manipulation a tweak? Brennan looked at her incredulously, still unable to find his voice.

"Stomachs are so inefficient. This method is streamlined; nothing is wasted. You should like that, just like your plants, no wasteful byproducts." Abra beamed at him. "Brilliant. They could even eat as normal. The food would be sent to the matter converter, the stomach, and treated like any other bit of fuel to be processed."

Something nagged the back of his mind about plants and byproducts, but he couldn't stop thinking about the scale of change that Abra was suggesting. "But—"

Abra put her hand on his arm. "As long as we're researching DNA, why not stretch it to its limits? I'm sure the Ministry of Research would be interested in seeing what we do with it. Let's put it in with the rest of the Methuselah changes, and see how the simulator handles it."

An intoxicating scent tickled his nose. He wondered how she managed to smell good even in a virtSession. "Why not?"

Abra laughed and embraced him.

Brennan resisted the urge to hug her back and stiffened in her arms. He'd tried to keep the relationship with Abra as platonic and professional as possible. I'm a man who's dying after all, he thought.

Abra pulled away. The smile dropped from her face.

Brennan felt guilt twist inside him. Must I always disappoint the women in my life? "How about if we get this integrated now?"

Abra's smile returned. They worked on the skew, integrating the new sequences until their neurolinks warned them they were exceeding the time limits of the virtSession.

He opened his eyes and blinked the dryness out of them.

Time to stop procrastinating, Brennan thought. He stretched then went in search of Tamsyn. It was time to tell his daughter he was dying.

****

Ekram bounded into Tamsyn Diwan's room and grinned broadly.

Tamsyn smiled in return. This is going to be good, she thought.

 Ever since they'd taken the compulsory Humanities course in DNA, Ekram had become obsessed with building the most extreme DNA skew he could. He'd become quite good at ferreting out all the variations that, while not prohibited, were not advertised as routine genetic modifications. It'd been a while since he'd found anything sufficiently rare to add to his parameter list.

"Want to guess?" Ekram flopped into the chair next to her.

"Blue eyes? White hair? Eight fingers?"

Ekram laughed at her. "No, no, and already there. Tams, you're such a Normalist."

Tamsyn shrugged. "I like my skew, thank you very much."

"Well, not everyone has the advantage of a DNA skew inherited from the divine Captain Diwan and the uber-intellectual Dr. Candler, so I've got to make up what I lack. Hurry and pull up the file." Since his parents routinely searched his network allotted data space and his personal neurolink storage, Ekram kept all his skew maps in Tamsyn's data folder. "It'll be perfect."

Tamsyn neurolinked to the network and found the file. It would have been easier to do a collaborative virtSession, but Ekram's parents recorded all of his virtual sessions. She gave a mental sigh, grateful to her parents for more than just her DNA. If she'd had parents like Ekram, maybe she'd have wanted to diversify too. She decrypted Ekram's most recent skew map, and sent a read/write data stream to the terminal in her room. "So tell me already. What sequence are you going to add?"

Ekram whispered in her ear. "Blue skin." With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he leaned back in his chair.

Tamsyn's jaw dropped. "No way. That is totally not an allowable sequence. You're joking," she said, but she knew he wasn't; Ekram was nothing if not thorough when it came to researching valid DNA sequences.

"It's absolutely allowable. Apparently there was a group on Old Earth that had blue skin. Some chemical imbalance or something." He held his finger up in triumph. "But, a valid skew nonetheless."

"Your parents will go nova."

Ekram's face hardened. "I don't really care what they do. And in one thousand nine hundred twenty five days, they won't have any say in what I do. So it makes us even." He wedged his chair between Tamsyn and the terminal, edging her out of the way.

Tamsyn watched him enter the data. "Are you really going to go through with all that?"

Ekram nodded emphatically, not taking his eyes off the screen. "I know the robo-nannies are just following their instructions, but I'm sick to death of having my parents' Minimalist philosophies shoved down my throat at every lesson. Humanity is so much more than the DNA we're born with. I want to . . ." He swept his arms wide in a gathering gesture then hugged them tight to his chest. "I want to pull it all in."

A frown pulled at Tamsyn's lips, and Ekram turned to look at her before she could hide it.

"Double-helix, Tams. It's not like they'll touch my soul. I'll still be me, and we'll still be best friends. Right?"

Tamsyn half-smiled and gave him a hug. "Of course. Blue skin and all."

The door slid open and revealed Tamsyn's father at the entrance. "Oh. You two look like you're busy with a homework assignment. Tamsyn, I need to talk with you later. It's not urgent. I'll find you later. Don't worry about it." He fled. The door swished shut.

"What's wrong with your dad?" asked Ekram.

"Nothing. He's always sad. Maybe he misses my mom. He doesn't talk about her."

"No, not that. I meant his . . . you know . . ." Ekram circled his palm around his face.

"Huh?"

Ekram grabbed the skin of his face and scrunched it together until it wrinkled. "It's like someone's been squeezing his skin together. And his eyes have all those lines. He almost looks like those pictures of the oldies we saw last week. Is it a skin disease? Can't he get Reverend Taylor to fix it?"

Unease twisted her gut. She tried to recall the earliest memory of her father, but daily exposure to him had imprinted his current visage in her mind. "There's nothing wrong with him. He's the best father. He even stayed out of stasis to be with me. No one else's parents did. Your parents are the ones with lots of problems."

"I won't argue with you there. Don't be mad at me, Tams."

Tamsyn took a deep breath. Ekram didn't deserve her anger; she offered him a bribe in lieu of an apology. "Want to watch my mom nuke the Gilbar III fanatics who were holding the Senators hostage?" That one was Ekram's favorite. Her favorite was her mother's impassioned speech that reconciled the warring factions of New Armstrong.

Ekram grinned. "Sure."

They sat and watched the data stream. Tamsyn pretended everything was fine again, but she couldn't get her father's face out of her mind.

****

After he left Tamsyn's cabin, Brennan wandered the halls aimlessly. How do I tell my child I'm dying? He knew it had to be done, had convinced himself to do it. All the same, he'd been relieved and had happily escaped when he saw Ekram in Tamsyn's room.

Brennan leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. It's not something a parent should have to tell a child, his mind screamed to the universe. The universe, as always, gave no reply. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Brennan, are you okay?" Abra asked.

Brennan opened his eyes and forced a smile on his face. "Just tired of being shipboard, I guess."

Abra gripped his shoulder sympathetically. "Well, I can't say I'm sorry you were awake. Your company has been invaluable. In fact . . ." She glanced up and down the corridor. It was empty. "After we ended our virtSession, I looked over my notes for my thesis again, and I got an idea. I tried it, and it worked. I've discovered the sequence for longevity resistance and while most of it overlaps the soul sequence, the on/off toggle does not."

Brennan's heart pounded in his chest. She could turn it off? She could turn it off. "That's wonderful." I don't have to get old yet. He picked Abra up and twirled her around the corridor. He settled her back on the ground, and she snuggled into his chest. Abra looked at him with those wide, innocent eyes, and he felt weak in the knees. "You are amazing."

Pink tinted her pale cheeks and she buried her face in his neck. She was wearing a perfume that was driving him crazy.

"All those people who think they have to get old, don't anymore," he said.

"Not quite. Unfortunately, it only seems to work on adolescents. Older than that, and the resistant sequence has already started doing its damage. At least, that's what the simulation says. I'll have to get approval before testing it on actual humans."

Brennan exhaled sharply, and his hands fell limply to his sides. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut.

Abra touched his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Nothing, I'm just still dying. "I'm just amazed at what you've accomplished. Can you show me?"

"Of course." She led him to her office, and showed him the simulation program.

"Wonderful. This calls for a celebration. Go dress up in your finest, and meet me in the dining hall in one hour."

Abra's eyes sparkled. "Sounds great."

They left her office and parted at the end of the corridor to go to their respective cabins. As soon as Abra was out of sight, Brennan retraced his steps. He toggled the lock on Abra's office door. She'd given him access while they were collaborating on the Methuselah project.

Brennan pulled a small, thin metal case out of his breastpocket. He flipped the lid up. It was from Tamsyn's first haircut; he'd saved the first curl.

With trembling fingers, he finally managed to detach one strand of black hair which he placed in Abra's analyzer and then started the program she'd just demonstrated to him. The results scrolled onto the terminal. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed. The final result etched into his mind's eye: Sample tests positive for longevity resistance.

Brennan stayed in the office until a light blinked in his peripheral vision. Abra was trying to ping him. He sent her a message: meet me at your office. He didn't wait long.

Abra strode in wearing a glittering, diaphanous dress that reminded him of an Old Earth angel. Her cheerful expression changed to one of surprise and concern. "You didn't change yet. What happened? You look awful."

"I had to check something." He pointed to the screen.

Abra glanced at the screen. Her eyes widened. "Where did you get this sample? Whose is it?"

Brennan groaned and covered his face with his hands. His words came out with a muffled moan. "It's Tamsyn's."

"Tamsyn's?" Tears welled in the corners of Abra's eyes. "Oh, Brennan. Did she inherit this from you? I'd begun to suspect you were resistant, but I didn't want it to be true."

When Jyotika had learned, she had looked at him with eyes colder than space. She hadn't voided their marriage contract, but she might as well have for all the kindness and love she showed him after that.

He nodded. "It's too late for me, you said. But you can save Tamsyn."

"But it's not been tested on actual humans. It won't be approved for another century at the earliest. I'm sorry, Brennan."

Brennan had a hard enough time getting the nerve to tell his daughter he was dying, and he refused to tell her that she shared the same fate. "That will be too late for Tamsyn. Fix her now." His voice came out harsh, rougher than he'd intended. "No one will know."

"I'd lose my license. They'd defrock me; probably even excommunicate me. You're talking about an unapproved genetic modification. They would drag me in front of a heresy board."

"But it's one small modification that they will no doubt approve anyway, right?"

She waved her hands in a helpless gesture. "Probably, but that doesn't matter. It isn't approved now. My equipment wouldn't even allow me to attempt it."

Brennan slumped. He'd forgotten about the extra constraints placed on medical software designated for human DNA manipulation; the software he used for plant tinkering was basically the same but didn't have the same constraints. He jumped up to his feet. "You could run your therapy through my medical software. Have it running as the main process on your equipment. It could handle it; we had it running the Methuselah simulation, didn't we? Please, Abra. Please, do it for me." He reached out and took her hand. "Please."

Abra's face softened. "I thought we had more time together." She took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll do it."

Brennan looked at the brave, sweet woman in front of him. "You'd risk the heresy board for me?"

Abra groaned. "Don't remind me. Let's get it set up quickly before I lose my nerve. Give me access to your software, and I'll get everything setup. Bring Tamsyn here tomorrow. Okay?"

"Okay." Brennan glanced back on his way out the door. Abra sat with closed eyes, already in deep communion with her neurolink.

****

Brennan watched helplessly. Not again, he thought. 

Tamsyn threw up. Again. She heaved, and a thin stream of yellow bile trickled out of her mouth.

When she was done, he wiped her feverish face with a cool cloth.

The door opened. Abra stepped into the dim room and touched Tamsyn's head. Brennan grabbed her hand and took her to the side. "What's happening?"

"Changes on the DNA level affect everyone differently."

"But you just made one tiny tweak, you said. And the previous time you made one tiny tweak. And both times she's gotten so sick."

"I'm sorry. If I'd've known how sensitive she was I would have done both tweaks at the same time. You should be very careful of that in the future. If this were a normal procedure, I'd put the sensitivity in her chart, but obviously I can't do that in this case."

Brennan heard the aggravation in her voice and sighed. "I'm sorry. I know you were just trying to be careful with her. It's just hard to see her like this."

"I know. I've arranged for her to have some time in a regen chamber."

"Again? How did you manage that?"

Abra dragged her hand across her face. "Don't ask."

"Thank you, but I'm afraid Jyotika will find out when she comes out of stasis."

"I've taken care of that. It's totally off the record, just like last time." She shook her head and sighed. "The things I do for you."

****

The ship locked into orbit around the soon-to-be-colonized planet Ganga. Quiet and dark for the past fifteen years, the corridors filled with light and activity. Tamsyn and Ekram sat in the observation deck; Ganga dominated the view.

I almost don't even recognize the ship, thought Tamsyn. "Everything seems so different. Funny. I guess it's the people that make the place and not the place that makes the place."

Ekram had a dour expression on his face. He'd had that expression a lot since his father had emerged from stasis two years ago. "Funny. Heh. Yeah."

"It's just a few extra years, Ekram. It'll fly by, just like the trip did."

"Easy for you to say, you'll go into stasis soon and when you wake up you'll vacation on Goa XI with your mother, the hero. Me, on the other hand. I've got to slog around helping colonize a planet with my tyrant parents. I can't believe they won't let me stay on board ship until I reach my majority. I'll have to turn eighteen stuck on that planet. Another ship isn't scheduled to stop by for ten more years. I'll be twenty-five by then."

"Cheer up. Maybe they'll have approved some radical sequences by the time the next ship comes." That earned her a wry smile from Ekram.

The door swished open and Brennan hesitated in the entrance. "There you are, Tamsyn. Hello, Ekram. Do you mind if I borrow my daughter a bit?"

"Course not, sir. I've got to get back and help in the nursery anyway. Sunita's got a rash again. Can you believe it? She claims she's allergic to babies." He snorted and shook his head. "See you later, Tams."

Brennan took Ekram's chair. "Nice young man, isn't he? You'll miss him. Won't you?"

Tamsyn shrugged; Ekram figured prominently on the list of things she didn't want to talk to her father about. "Sure."

"What if you didn't have to miss him? Tamsyn, I've been thinking a lot, and I've decided to stay on the planet when the ship leaves."

Tamsyn looked back and forth between Ganga and her father. "I don't understand. Is Mom staying too?"

"Your mother is the captain of this ship and will continue in that capacity. I'll be joining Reverend Taylor on the planet while she does her research stint. It'll be for at least ten more years, until the next ship comes."

Tamsyn felt her lips tighten at the mention of Reverend Taylor. "What about Mom?"

"Sweetie, you know our marriage contract expired last month. We have no plans to renew it. It'll be better for both of us this way. Come to the planet. It'll be lots of fun. The research module only stays in one place for a year or two before it flies to another spot on the planet. It'll be a long time before the colonists get to see what you see. You'll probably be the first one to set foot in some areas. Reverend Taylor and I would love it if you came with us, at least for ten years. Just until the next ship."

Tamsyn narrowed her eyes at the thought of Reverend Taylor. "I don't like her. Always poking and prodding and asking for tissue samples."

Brennan's face hardened. "She cares about your health, young lady. She's been very good to both of us. We owe her a great deal."

Tamsyn grunted noncommittally and added Reverend Taylor to the list of things not to talk to her father about.

Her father rubbed his finger on the nullglass, outlining Ganga on the viewport. "It's up to you, of course, but if you don't stay, I'll likely be dead before you see me again."

Tamsyn stared at her father's profile. When she spoke again, her voice came out in a squeak, like a little girl's voice. "What are you talking about?"

"I rejected the longevity treatment. I'd appreciate if you gave me ten more years of your company. Just ten more years."

Tamsyn's mind reeled. All the pieces suddenly falling in place. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Brennan's face twisted. "I tried. It was never the right time, I guess."

A cool, female voice spoke behind Tamsyn. "It's never the right time for a coward. Have you turned to emotional blackmail, old man? I didn't think that was your style." Tamsyn whirled to face the door; she hadn't even heard it open.

Jyotika strolled forward and the