Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [127]
No one had been more surprised by his choice than the leaders of Corvus Landing. When he'd arrived on the backwater world, a single green priest who had booked passage on a scheduled cargo ship, he'd been welcomed with the most lavish celebration the warm-hearted settlers could provide. Earnest young mayor Sam Hendy had declared a feast in his honor, though Talbun had been shy about such ceremony. After he had planted his lovely grove just outside Colony Town, Corvus Landing had become a real part of the Hansa, more than just a signatory to the Charter. Talbun's telink abilities made him a living telegraph station, letting the settlers remain in direct contact with Earth, other colony worlds, and merchant ships.
Thrilled to have such a distinguished new member of their community, the colonists had pooled their meager resources and sparse luxuries. They had helped him clear the native mosses and interlinked groundcover so he could plant his treelings. Talbun had never felt so loved and appreciated.
He could not abandon these people now just because he was weary of life.
Talbun had planted his treelings one at a time, caressing them, welcoming them to their new home. Coached and nurtured, the trees had grown rapidly, taking all the nutrients they needed. After two years he had been able to harvest healthy clippings and plant new treelings to enlarge the grove. Everything here was growing perfectly.
But humans did not live forever.
Under the feathery canopy, Talbun turned his face to the sky, drinking in the sunlight from this alien star and converting it to energy. He ran dirt-caked fingertips over his cheeks, feeling not soiled but vibrant. The powdery earth always made him more alive.
Corvus Landing had been the perfect place to spend the rest of his years, filling out the deficiencies in his life. In this grove of treelings, he had sat cross-legged for hours, reading document after document to the trees, all the while increasing his own knowledge. He had loved those days.
But now it was time for his replacement. He had one last role to play.
At the center of the grove, he spread his arms to trail his fingers along the trunks. Finally, he knelt, feeling the soil against his naked knees, and pressed his forehead against the nearest trunk.
He closed his eyes, thought of how to phrase his need, and then, opening his mental ability, connected through the worldforest. Talbun sent his plea into the telink network, calling for someone to come to him.
58 BENETO
Deep in the forests of Theroc, Beneto sensed the incoming communication. The trees rippled invisibly with a general call sent by another green priest, directed everywhere through the neural root network. He clasped the scaled trunk of the nearest tree and touched his forehead to the bark, listening to the telink summons.
In his sister grove on far-off Corvus Landing, old Talbun transmitted his needs. Beneto saw the images, heard the thoughts, understood the weary green priest's plight and his desire. He listened carefully, absorbing it all. He imagined the possibilities.
In his mind Beneto experienced the small, out-of-the-way Hansa colony through Talbun's eyes and memories. He felt the winds whistling across the plains of Corvus Landing, stirring the geometric fields planted by the settlers. He imagined the goat herds, the revelries of the settlers, the hard work, the good company. He also felt the old man's bone weariness, understood that Talbun was dying, and that he needed to be replaced.
If only he could find someone.
Beneto broke the telink connection and stood up, surrounded by the trees and his thoughts. The whispering fronds soothed him, gave him advice, but let him make his own decisions. Beneto drew a deep breath, already filled with delight at this answer to his inner desires. For so long he had wanted something exactly like this, without even knowing it in his own heart. The forest had sent him an answer to his unspoken prayers.
Beneto had lived his life gifted with every advantage and luxury, but such things meant nothing