Emerald Eyes | Page 9

were practicing speaking in English,
rather than the French they had learned as children. Though most of the
staff spoke understandable, hideously accented French, most of the
thirty or so genies with whom the de Nostri shared the buildings did not.
It was a failing shared, in greater measure, by New York City's
residents.
"I cannot see that it matters," said Lorette primly, running her claws
gently through the brown and white striped fur that covered Shana's
back and shoulders. "Talk to the telepath if you must, your boyfriend--"
Shana's muscles tensed, and she growled so quietly that no human and
most genies who were not de Nostri would have heard it. Lorette's ears
pricked slightly, and without pausing she continued, "--or only your
friend, if you will have it that way. But--"
She broke off again; the Peaceforcer sparring with Carl had picked the
boy up and thrown him a full five meters. Shana sucked in her breath,
and her claws unsheathed of their own accord. The boy struck the mat
rolling and came to his feet running backward. The Peaceforcer was
right there, a long kick whistling through the space the boy's body had
occupied an instant before.
For a moment the two stood facing each other, motionless, before
engaging again, and Lorette continued speaking as though she had
never been interrupted. "But the people in the city," she said, lips drawn
back from her teeth in a reflex that had nothing to do with a human's
smile, "animals. They stare so." She stopped scratching Shana. "How is

that?"
"I still itch in all places."
Lorette sighed, switched to French. "What did they inject you with?"
The snarl in Shana's voice would have been audible even to a human.
"They did not tell me, except it is supposed to make me strong. If I was
a human, even a genie, they would have said."
Lorette chuckled without amusement. "If you were a human citizen
they could not even have injected you without permission."
Shana was silent, watching as a somewhat smaller Peaceforcer took
over from the very large one. The boy had no time to catch his breath;
within seconds the two were fighting, each wielding a meter-long rod
of wood with a rounded, metal cap at each end.
"Really?"
Lorette sighed, and returned to English. "It is what Albert says."
"Albert says things just to say them," said Shana sullenly.
"True." Lorette was struck by something amusing, and she leaned
forward to whisper in Shana's ear. "Albert told me that he has watched
Carl spar and that he is better."
"Scratch my shoulders, please," said Shana. Lorette's claws moved up
after the new itch, and Shana sighed with pleasure when they caught it.
"Albert is a fool. He is four years older than Carl, and he is jealous
because he is not as important. He is one of many de Nostri, and Carl is
the only telepath." She thought about the subject for a moment.
"Perhaps it is true, that he is better than Carl, with an advantage of six
years study. Carl began learning only after they found he was a telepath
and realized it might be necessary to use him in the field. But I will tell
you this much, Albert may best Carl on the mat. If they ever truly fight,
Carl will win." Shana had to catch her breath after speaking; she was

slightly winded.
"I have talked to Carl once," said Lorette thoughtfully. "He says when
they take him on assignment he is well protected."
Shana nodded. "Yes. He is their only telepath, unless the little dark
haired girl is one also, and they will not know that until, what is it," and
she took a long, deep breath, to bring the air into her lungs, and said,
"comment dit-on en anglais mènarche?"
"Puberty," said Lorette, "but it means for boys and girls both. They do
not have a word for mènarche."
"They will not know until Jany reaches puberty, then." Shana coughed,
a deep, guttural sound, and said, "It makes him special."
Lorette brightened. "Look, the fourth match is finished. One more and
we can go to lunch."
Shana shook her head slowly. Her ears were twitching. "I think perhaps
I should go to the infirmary."
"Shana?"
"I...I do not feel well."
Carl did not look away from his match as they left.
The field wavered slightly. Suzanne Montignet's image waited for
nearly three seconds after Malko had finished speaking; round-trip
signal time from the PKF Elite SpaceBase One, at L-5. "You've got to
be kidding."
Malko shook his head no. "They weren't sure at first what was
happening. It took nearly a day before the transform virus killed her. I
had Carson on the line after it happened. He denied--"
"Of course