2230 – Twenty-Three Years Ago
On the Coast of Flinders Island Tasmania
Two centuries ago, once the Terrans conquered Betazed, an intensive breeding program began coercing subjugated males into seeding human females volunteering to bear the next generation in Terran evolution and enslaving Betazed females forcing them to carry the children of selected human males. All for one goal – producing Terran telepaths. It failed. The hybrid children who did possess the alien DNA markers could sense emotions but not read thoughts. And the trait did not inherit true in subsequent generations. Their skills became less accurate and picked up only the strongest, harshest feelings. The DNA degradation worsened as it was passed down and the talent disappeared after six generations.
One and fifty hundred years ago a eugenics experiment spliced the genes for Betazed thought reading and Vulcan touch telepathy into Terran ova. The eggs were then fertilized by males considered genetically ideal Terrans and implanted into surrogate mothers. The results were frightful, the children went mad at the onset of puberty when Pon Farr struck, an unintentional legacy from the Vulcan DNA. A few of this first generation survived long enough to reproduce. Their children experienced a similar fate. By the third generation half the children exhibited a limited capacity to read active thoughts through touch, an amalgam of the Betazed and Vulcan talents. But they were still highly unstable and eventually descended into madness. In the next generation the trait became recessive. Males could pass on the gene but never again exhibited any mind reading abilities. And even if a female inherited the necessary alleles from both parents, the trait only manifested in one out of 10 million Terrans. When it did, their gifts were stronger and more accurate than their parents. Selective breeding continued concentrating the ability in the few born with its potential.
Stable Terran mind readers are rare, highly prized, and worth the accumulated wealth of a planet or star system. Though they too usually go insane by thirty years of age if not mentally bonded with a partner. Once bonded, they can only read the thoughts of their mate.
William watched contentedly as his ten-year old daughter played along the sandy beach collecting seashells and happily singing, she had inherited her grandmother's clear soprano voice, while he scaled and gutted today's catch. The life of a fisherman on this remote yet beautiful island suited him and amply supported their modest needs. He had fled to the opposite end of Terra with his newborn child as soon as her genetic tests were complete, even before her mother, the principal daughter of the noble house he was indentured to, woke from the anesthesia for her cesarean. A friend in the lab falsified the test results, issued a death certificate for the child, and escorted him and the baby to a refuge of the resistance's underground network that smuggled to safety rebels and others needing to flee.
Indentured due to his father's transgression of openly practicing the Catholic faith, William was forced to father the child because his foremothers were strong telepaths and he carried the necessary gene. If the child inherited those abilities, his freedom was guaranteed, that is as a stud possessing valuable semen. In exchange for it, he would be richly compensated and denied little.
Each day William scrutinized his daughter for any sign she could read his thoughts. And every day that passed without any manifestation of those talents he breathed a sigh of relief and silently gave thanks to Good St. Nicholas and the Blessed Virgin Mother Mary.
He guarded his daughter fiercely, never leaving her alone with another and home schooling her. They lived in a small house near the ocean in a sparsely populated corner of the island. His fears aside, in many ways their lives were idyllic. At the very least, they were far from the machinations of the imperialistic government. William knew this isolation was unsustainable. But I have to keep her hidden until I am certain she is mind blind or until she can protect herself.
Twilight was fading into night. Standing he beckoned to her, "Aalin, time for dinner."
"Just a few more minutes."
"No, now." William smiled as he watched his daughter consider her next objection. My Leilani, he thought. That was his pet name for her. He had never spoken it aloud.
"OK." She bound up the collected seashells in the hem of her shirt and raced for her father. In the waning light she missed the small rock half buried in the sand, tripped over it, and pitched forward. He instinctively reached out to her, and she grasped his hands for balance.
"Who is Leilani?" Aalin asked once she straightened and caught her breath.
Fear settled icily in is gut. William clamped his hands around her arms and tried to keep his voice nonchalant, but his question came out harsh, "Where did you hear that?"
"From you. When I grabbed your hands. It's like you said it but you didn't."
William sank to his knees in front of her and said sternly, "Listen carefully to my question. Answer exactly what I ask truthfully."
Aalin nodded almost imperceptibly. She looked frightened. "You're hurting me."
He relaxed his grip. "Did your ears hear me say Leilani with my voice?"
She scuffed her toes in the sand already convinced something bad had happened. Her voice was very soft when she finally answered, "You didn't say it. It was like … it was floating in your head, and it just popped into mine. I heard it in my head in my own voice." Her father was rarely stern, and his unusual behavior scared her. Tears pooled in her eyes. "Did I do something wrong?"
Pulling her into a tight embrace William whispered in her ear, "No, you didn't do anything wrong. It's very important you don't tell anyone else about this. OK? It's our special secret."
Aalin sniffled, "OK."
"Never, ever tell anyone. And never repeat anything floating in another's mind," William warned firmly. His deathly pallor was stark in the low light of evening. "Promise." He despised frightening her but until she was old enough to understand the ramifications and the danger, fear and Aalin's determination not to upset her beloved Papa were her best protectors.
"I promise. Really. Can we go home now?"
Later that evening, as Aalin slept on the couch, her head cradled on a pillow in his lap, one hand clasping his, another curled around a favored teddy bear, William considered the next steps. There is a colony on a planet just beyond the empire's borders welcoming telepaths and their families and protecting them. The resistance may be able to arrange for our transport there. But is it worth the risk of sending a signal? We've been safe here for a decade.
By midnight William was convinced no part of Terra was safe for his daughter. He unlocked a hidden cupboard and sent the prearranged signal.
ooooo
2255 – Present Day
Imperial Summer Palace
Kyoto, Japan
One of the Empress' secretaries, a footman, and a lady's maid in service to the imperial household entered Aalin's chamber. They did not announce their presence, nor did they request permission to come into her rooms. Honorifics and titles aside, Aalin was as much a servant as they.
The secretary instructed, "My lady, you are to attend Chancellor Afsah tonight. Once you are made ready James will escort you."