LINA HAD AGREED to meet him over tea in the library at the end of his piloting shift. The necessity of retrieving the whisker from his quarters put Ren Zel a few moments behind the appointed time, and he found her at table ahead of him, teapot steaming and two cups standing ready.
"Well-met, shipmate," she said with a smile, that having become a joke between them, over the years of their acquaintance. Despite the concerns he brought with him from his shift, Ren Zel felt his mouth curve upward in response.
"Shipmate," he responded, slipping into the chair opposite her, and inhaling the fragrance of the tea. "Ah." His smile grew wider. "Shall I pour?"
"If you please. I find myself remarkably indolent this hour."
To find Lina indolent was to find an impossibility. Ren Zel filled a cup, and passed it to her. She cradled it in her hands and lifted it to sample the aroma. Ren Zel poured a cup for himself, and leaned back in his chair, likewise enjoying the sweet steam, and then taking a bare sip, teasing his tastebuds with the complex notes of the beverage.
"So," said Lina eventually, putting her cup aside. "How may I assist you, shipmate? Have you been dreaming again?"
"In fact, I have," Ren Zel murmured, setting aside his own cup and reaching into his pocket for the sampling tube. "And, when I woke, I found that dreaming had produced—this." He placed the tube before her on the table, then sat back, with an effort.
"I . . . see." She picked the tube up and turned it this way and that in the light. "A singularly handsome specimen. Found in a dream, you say?"
"In the aftermath of a dream," Ren Zel said, slowly. "I woke—or dreamed I woke—and felt the weight of a cat on my chest. I raised a hand to stroke it—and realized of a sudden that a cat was—not possible, so that I woke in truth." He waved a hand at the tube. "And found that whisker caught in the coverlet."
"I see," Lina said again, her eyes on the whisker. "And was there a dream before the dream of the cat?"
"Two," he said promptly. "First was the battle-dream. I woke from that and read until I nodded. There was another dream, then. Within it, a . . . shipmate had come to me with the same dream, of the fleas and the—solution we undertook to save ourselves. I soothed her as best I might and sent her to her own rest. And then—"
Lina raised a hand. "Did you recognize this shipmate?"
Ren Zel considered that, then shook his head, Terran-wise. "Indeed, it was only that she had the memory upon her, and stood so very distressed, for ship and crew . . . " He moved a shoulder. "But, after all, it was a dream."
"Just so." Lina touched the tip of her forefinger to the tube's seal. "May I?"
"Certainly."
And so she had the whisker out, and settled back in her chair with it held close between her two palms, and her eyes closed.
Momentarily ignored, Ren Zel retrieved his teacup and sipped, recruiting himself to patience.
"I know this cat . . . " Lina murmured, her voice slightly slurred, as if she spoke in her sleep. Ren Zel froze, cup halfway to his lips, unwilling to break the Healer's trance.
"I know this cat," she said again, barely more than a whisper. "It is . . . " Her face changed, tightened; her eyelids flickered, flew open. She sighed and shook her head gently. "To my knowledge, this cat has never been on the Passage."
With which, she picked up the tube, reinserted the whisker, resealed the top, and leaned forward to place the whole before him.
Ren Zel lowered his teacup, looking from her careful face and opaque eyes to the tube and its captive wonder.
"It had seemed," he said eventually, and with utmost care. "That . . . trance had produced more information regarding this cat."
"Had it?" Lina recovered her cup and sipped.
And whatever that information might have been, Ren Zel dea'Judan was not to be made a gift of it. He bit his lip, staring down at the tube, concentrating on breathing. He had counted Lina among his friends . . .
"You think me cruel," she said. "Friend, acquit me."
He looked up, saw sympathy in her eyes and raised a hand. "Then, why—?"
She shifted, setting her cup down. "Tell me, has there been a return of that phenomenon such as Shan reported, when he found you on Casiaport?"
He blinked, bought a moment of thought by putting his cup down.
"Certainly not. Why should there have been?"
She moved a hand, soothing the air between them. "Forgive me; I meant no offense. It was merely that Shan had said you were in trance, and foretelling . . . "
"I was wounded," he said, more sharply than he had intended, "and raving."
She was still for a moment, then inclined her head. "As you say, Pilot."
Ren Zel flinched. "Lina . . . "
"Ah, no—" She bent forward and put her hand over his where it rested next to the damned tube. "Peace . . . peace. Friend, you must understand that it is . . . difficult to know the correct path to take with you. We have on this ship three not-inconsiderable Healers—one a full dramliza—and you remain beyond the touch of all, shielded so well that none of us may so much as reach forth and give you ease of ill dreaming." Gently, she patted his hand and withdrew.
"With you, we must—we must pilot blind, trusting our training and an honest regard for yourself to win us through to safe landing." She sighed and picked up her teacup to sip. Ren Zel, curiously breathless, did the same.
"So," Lina continued. "I will tell you that the trance did produce more information. Not," she said wryly, "as much as I would have desired. Yet more than I will give to you. My training—and my sincere regard for yourself—tells me that it would be best to allow you to proceed . . . unencumbered by preconception. The cat may never come to you again—or it may reappear often, at the times it chooses. Cats are like that, after all."
"So they are." He picked up the sampling tube and slid it into a pocket, rose and bowed, respect to a master. "My thanks, Healer."
She smiled, wistfully, and inclined her head. "Pilot. Good lift."
"Safe landing," he answered, that being the well-wish pilots exchanged before a journey.
He walked back to his quarters slowly, wondering what sort of journey Lina supposed him to be on.