"Jacqueline Lichtenberg - SimeGen 02 - Channel's Destiny" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lichtenberg Jacqueline)

Thanks to Anne Golar for helpful medical research, and to Katie Filipowicz for many thankless tasks in putting this
book together.
And to all our readersтАФif you would like to comment on this book or the Sime/Gen series, you may write to us in
care of the publisher, or through the AMBROV ZEOR address, above.
Jean Lorrah Jacqueline Lichtenberg
Murray, Kentucky Spring Valley, New York
Chapter 1


"No matter what happens," said Zeth Farris, trembling with an emotion he could not name, "when I grow up, I'm never going to
kill."
"You can't say that for sure," challenged Jana Lodge Erick, tossing her braids back over her shoulders.
Her older brother Owen said, "Zeth's going to be a channel, like his father. And channels don't have to kill."
The three children were walking along behind their dogs, herding sheep into a sheltered pasture. Zeth, the youngest of the three,
had to stretch to keep up. As he caught them, he saw a stern glare pass from Jana to Owen, the same kind of glare grownups used
to swerve conversations away from topics not for children.
"No matter what your father says, there's no way to know if you'll be Sime or Gen," said Jana.
"It doesn't matter," replied Zeth, with the belligerence Jana always seemed to wake in him. "Even if I'm only a Sime, not a
channel, I still won't kill. It's too hard to stop once you start."
"That's why I want to be a channel," said Owen. "To heal people. I want to be a healer."
Zeth had heard this argument many times, and knew there was nothing Jana could say to deter Owen. But Jana snorted at her
brother's ambition. "I'd rather be Gen. A Sime is either a channel or he isn't. But a Gen can learnтАФ''
"Hey, listen!" Zeth interrupted. "Is that the bell?"
"Can't be," said Owen. "Can't hear it from here!"
But the wind was carrying faint echoes. "Let's go see," said Jana. Instructing the dogs to mind the sheep, the children scrambled
back along the trail toward the stockade of Old
Fort Freedom. As they emerged onto a rise of ground overlooking the neat community, the pealing of the bell became clearer and
clearerтАФuntil the alarm pattern sounded danger across the landscape.
As far as the children could see, the land was part of the township of Fort Freedom. The original religious community still stood
on one side of the creek, but on the other was a growing secular community, loosely incorporated with them and sharing their
ideals.
тАвIn the far distance, the hilly land on which Owen and Jana's father raised the finest horses in the Territory sloped down to join
the New Farris Homestead. There, at his own home, Zeth spotted a column of black smoke. "It's a fire!" he shouted. "Come on!"
The three children ran pell-mell down the trail and across the newly sprouted fields just in time to catch the last riders from the
Old Fort. Dan Whelan, the blacksmith, slowed his horse to catch Zeth up in front of him. "Hang on!"
"I'm all right," Zeth panted. "What's going on?"
"Raid. You kids get out of the way. I'll drop you, and you run on up to Mr. Brick's."
"But Dad and MamaтАФ" started Zeth.
"They'll want you safe!"
Zeth was safe enough for the moment, Mr. Whelan holding one arm about the boy's waist, the other hand on the reins, handling
tentacles out to steady them. His laterals lay quietly sheathed amid the rippling musculature of the smith's forearms. After one
glance at those calm laterals, Zeth let his fear well up. His child's nager could not irritate Mr. Whelan.
"Dan!" called one of the other men. "Are they Freehand Raiders?" Such outlaw bands descended like locusts, stealing, looting,
killing Gens, murdering SimesтАФbut Fort Freedom had not seen a band of them in years.
Zeth had one clear memory of a group of GensтАФhis mother, Hank and Anni Steers, some othersтАФadvancing on the astonished
Raiders, sending the scarecrow forms scurrying to their horses. Had he seen it, or been told about it? He recalled the nightmare
image of a tattered, skeletal Raider grasping his mother, trying to kill her the way Simes used to kill Gens, by draining her life
energy.
But Kadi Farris could not be killed. Her red hair was a halo of flame, her body surrounded by a glowing nimbus that drew
her attacker helplessly, hands and tentacles grasping her smooth, untentacled arms, lips pressed to hersтАФ