Living With Syn

Chapter 1-4

::Why do you lead with your chin, Syn?:: Anya had asked. It was the first time she understood mind speech. Syn was startled.

“I don’t lead with my chin, princess, I state the obvious.”

“No, you neglect to say what makes you remarkable.”

“And that would be…”

“You have a PhD in clinical psychology specializing in Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I had access to the manifest. You graduated from Temple at the top of your class and received your PhD from the University of Pennsylvania, an Ivy League School, last time I looked,” Anya answered with a smile.

“That just makes me a well-educated prostitute.”

“And being a physician makes me a well-educated bastard as Sister Edwana took great pains to remind me.” Anya linked her arms through Syn’s and they moved to sit on Syn’s bunk. As I said, I am an empath. I see you. You are tough on the outside, but soft and loving beneath the hard exterior.” Anya smiled.

“I’m embarrassed I came on so strong. I expect disdain, therefore I shoot before I get shot. For example, that hulk that brought you here…”

“TeZaron?”

“I suppose that’s his name. He visibly reacted to my presence. I felt like he lifted his nose as if he smelled something off. He was in such a hurry to leave, he didn’t even make you sure you were comfortable.” Tigger jumped up onto Anya’s bed.

“According to Jonal and Tonas, he is a Sarran Elder and traveling incognito. I don’t think he was happy to be outed.”

“He sure had a funny reaction to me.”

“They all have funny reactions to the Earthen fems as they refer to us. Half of them don’t know whether we are the best thing that happened to their planet since the tragedy or an inferior race destined to bring down their culture. Once they bond, however, they are loving, kind, and the most noble of men.” Tigger began to purr.

Anya explained the process of the bond, in so much as she could. From what the princess told her, the bond became metaphysical as well as temporal. It came with complete acceptance of all of your past and future. Syn didn’t know if she would be capable of dropping her shields or subjecting herself to the level of commitment that it would entail. Even if she could, she didn’t want to open herself to heartbreak. Despite what Anya claimed the bond could be, no man could overlook the fact that Syn lived with a pimp who trained her to become a w***e.

Anya was now the highest ranking fem on planet since none of the Elders’ spouses survived the Zyptz attack. Since she became Syn’s friend, Maddy hated Syn even more.

Anya had shied away from the physical; the idea of bedding two men caused her great distress until she accepted her own desires. Syn saw no problem with the physical act of mating with two men; but she didn’t know if she could let her guard down long enough to permit the intense intimacy the bond required. She didn’t trust men and nothing in her experience gave her the slightest inclination to change her mind.

Back home in Philadelphia, after entering the shelter, she had little to do with men. When she attended the University of Pennsylvania, she shunned all of them except for her professors and the unavoidable discourse necessary to earn her masters, then doctorate in psychology. During the summers and after her graduation, she went home to the Women’s Retreat, the shelter that had rescued her from the street and worked to help others like herself overcome their pasts.

* * * *

As Syn’s mind traveled back to the present she noticed that Maddy’s audience looked a bit irritated when Maddy mentioned Syn to be a friend of Anya’s.

“They aren’t really friends you know,” Maddy continued. “Anya met Cynthia only because the Elder TeZaron put Anya with her the night before the hearing and he did that because they both owned cats. Disgusting creatures, cats, they make me sneeze.”

Syn didn’t dare go forward to defend herself. Even when Jonal, Tonas, and Anya all came to her rescue on a previous occasion when Maddy got mouthy, it didn’t matter. It seemed as if Maddy felt Syn to be a permanent pimple on her ass that Maddy was determined to pinch until Syn erupted and did something to prove her right. So far, Syn thwarted Maddy’s venomous mouth by not reacting to the vitriol, but she was nearing her breaking point.

The buzzing in her head that began on the Brightstar generated an unknown song and became louder and more painful. A tinny voice jabbered in her brain. She actually conversed with it occasionally, giving in to the compulsion to soothe…and now she was talking to the cat. Perhaps she did have the beginnings of a psychosis as an aftereffect of the plague.

Fuck, I need a cigarette. There was a stale pack and a lighter in her purse. She did not indulge herself on the ship because she was afraid of the consequences of an open flame in the enclosed atmosphere of Brightstar, but the pangs were strong. She rummaged in her purse for the lighter.

She shrugged philosophically. If she proved incapable of bonding, what was the worst that could happen? If that proved to be the case, she could settle in here and begin a private practice to help the Earthen women adjust to their new home, or, be sent back on the next ship. Either way, she and the Duchess would do just fine. Now if only Maddy would shut the hell up and this headache would go away!

Syn looked down at the hard packed dirt in front of the counters and noticed a pattern. A straight line snaked across the reception desks and to the end of the queue. It looked as if someone repacked the dirt after the depredations of the local equivalent of a mole. Some sort of black miasma hung over it, clinging to the ground. She thought it might be some sort of Sarran anomaly, yet it felt wrong.

* * * *

“Zadda, tell the driver to hurry up. Maddy is being horrible to Mommie again and Mommie feels very sad, she is hurting, burning, and smoke is coming out of her mouth. She needs us now, something is wrong with the dirt.”

Nafer’s small face screwed up, portending a storm of tears and temper. A true note of alarm rang in his offspring’s voice. Naffie almost screamed in his distraught state. Bron used the communicator.

::Zaron…::

::Bron?::

::I’m on my way in the PGT. However, something is wrong with Nafer. There is a fem from the Brightstar. He’s channeled into her psy.::

::How?::

::I don’t know. He has been babbling on for days about his “Mommie. What does this word signify?:: Bron was puzzled.

::Goddess, Bron, it means we have a fem on the ship. Nafer is going to knock her out, if he keeps on pushing.::

::Are you feeling anything resembling a BondStir? Something else though, he says something is wrong with the dirt.::

::I experienced a low level resonance on board that could have been a BondStir. But I ignored it. The blocks are still in place. The bond must be strong to penetrate the mind locks.::

::Nafer has no block and neither does the fem. Be prepared. Nafer’s psy is strong, but undisciplined. He is going to reach out as soon as we hit the field and we must act to soften the blow,:: Bron said in concern.

::Did he give you a description?::

::Only some babble about milk, cookies, someone named Marilyn Monroe and petting something in front of a tube. He’s almost hysterical because she has smoke coming out of her mouth. Does this make sense to you?::

::Some…Hurry Bron, I need you.::

::I need you too, my Dragon…::

Bron sat up straighter in the seat. “Hilnut, we are going to teleport the PGT discreetly onto the field. I believe we will be needed sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, Elder, immediately.”

Bron turned to Nafer and with a stern face said, “I did all I can; now you must settle back and wait like a true Warrior instead of a spoiled offspring.”

“Yes, Zadda.” Nafer stopped whining, but still fidgeted.

Bron closed his eyes in concentration. He and his Dragon needed to do something about Nafer’s lack of discipline. They lost complete control of the situation after Nara returned to the Goddess.