Dream Called Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

attractive markings,” I guessed.
    “They indicate that I am a touch healer.”
    “What do you know? So is Squilyp.” A tingling of alarm made me draw back a little. “I don’t really need to be touched or healed, though. Just FYI.”
    “I am like you, sister.” He refastened his tunic. “I am never ill. I have survived every injury done to me. Even when I attempted to take my own life, I could not end it. I am immortal.”
    I blinked. “You were bioengineered? The way I was?”
    “So it would seem, although I have no memory of it,” he admitted. “You—Jarn—called me ‘brother.’ She seemed to recognize me.”
    Not one damn thing about him seemed familiar to me. “My surrogate mother once told me that there were others. At the time I didn’t really believe her. Maybe you’re one of them.” I saw Xonea walk into the galley, and head toward our table. “Here comes another family member.”
    “Cherijo.” Xonea sounded relieved. “You should be resting in Medical.”
    “I think I’ve slept long enough, ClanBrother.” I forced my mouth to approximate a pleasant smile. “I’d also like to pass on any debriefing you have in mind.”
    “As you say, ClanSister.” With remarkable, un-Xonea-like calm he turned to address Shon. “She is well?”
    The oKiaf nodded.
    I hated being treated as if I were invisible, so I got to my feet. “Thank you for sharing the meal with me, Healer Valtas. Xonea, see you around.” I headed for the lift.
    Xonea caught up with me before I could make a clean getaway. “Cherijo, wait.” He turned me around and took hold of my cold hands. “You are distressed.”
    It was ironic; the only person happy I was back was my ex-brother-in-law, whom I had once married and divorced. What did that say about me?
    “I’ve had better days.” Squilyp’s suggestion prompted me to ask, “I’m going to need my own place. Got any vacant quarters near Medical that I can use for a while?”
    “I have already arranged it.” Some of the pleasure ebbed from his expression, and his grip on me tightened. “You have spoken to Duncan?”
    “I tried. He’s not interested in chatting with me right now.” I glanced at the lift. “Where are my new rooms?”
    He folded one of my arms over his. “I will escort you.”
    From there we went to the living quarters that Xonea had assigned to me. They were furnished for use by a Jorenian, which made them comfortable if a bit too large and colorful for me, but they would do. The data terminal was all I was interested in, but when I tried to access it, my codes were refused.
    “Why am I locked out of the database?” I asked.
    “The Omorr thought it best.” Xonea brought me a server of jaspkerry tea. “You need not try to absorb the events of the past five years in one day.” He saw my expression. “Perhaps Squilyp is being somewhat overprotective, but he is the Senior Healer. He has only your best interests in mind.”
    “That’s why he let some alien run around with my body for the last five years?” Before he could reply, I added, “I’ve reviewed my medical records, Xonea. They removed the dates, but not the facts. The Omorr gave up on me. Just like everyone else did.”
    “I did not.” He set aside the tea and crouched in front of me. Other species often found it hard to discern emotions from the Jorenians’ all-white eyes, but I could see a kind of joyful pain, as if what he felt was too acute to put into words. “I prayed each day to the Mother, and implored her to return you to us. I never lost hope. I knew eventually she would hear me.”
    “Yeah, well, she took her sweet time, didn’t she?” Now I had to know what it had cost me. “What is everyone keeping from me? What the hell did this Akkabarran do while I was gone?”
    “There have been many repercussions since the rebellion—”
    “I’m not interested in hearing about another stupid war,” I told him. “What did she do to my husband?”
    Lines of strain