Mindtouch (Dreamhealers 1)

Seersana University is worlds-renowned for its xenopsychology program, producing the Alliance’s finest therapists, psychiatric nurses and alien researchers. When Jahir, one of the rare and reclusive Eldritch espers, arrives on campus, he’s unprepared for the challenges of a vast and multicultural society… but fortunately, second-year student Vasiht’h is willing to take him under his wing. Will the two win past their troubles and doubts and see the potential for a once-in-a-lifetime partnership?

Genre (setting): space opera (Pelted)
Tags: found family, space opera, pastoral, low conflict, friendship, elves (space)
Rating: PG for emotional situations

Excerpt from Chapter 1

According to the research Jahir had done through the Well feed, Seersana’s university had preceded even Karaka’A’s prestigious institute as the first in the Alliance, just as this solar system’s two worlds had been the first settlement for the Pelted fleeing Earth. Its renowned medical colleges had been the product of necessity, for the first generations of the Pelted had been forced to re-engineer themselves to remove the flaws humanity had bequeathed them. As the Pelted encountered the first aliens, the medical curricula grew to encompass them. Seersana’s xenopsychology school was also the oldest in the Alliance, another reason Jahir had selected it.

Now that he was here, its unalloyed beauty offered an additional lagniappe. Ancient trees guarded the campus’s walkways, nodding over the broad lawns that separated the buildings. Tiny fountains nestled in secluded copses, their commemorative plaques written in Universal rhyme, Seersan glyphs, or, as one might expect of the race that carekept the Exodus records, both and a multitude of other languages besides. Jahir traced the engravings with his fingers. His own tongue was never one of those other languages, of course. His people would never have allowed it.

Every place he walked, he saw great effort employed in the preservation of the existing flora. The path leading from the School of Healing-Assist to the Rhone Medical Library wended through what could only be called a small forest, where a series of metal arches prevented the trees from draping their leaves onto the shoulders of passersby.

It was a disappointment to reach the edge of the medical campus and discover an empty lot, so finding a centaur wrapped up in a rope and surrounded by six squealing girls was a decided improvement. Jahir stopped on the edge to stare.

The creature tangled in the ropes had four legs and two arms in the configuration of a centaur. He also had a tail and two smooth wings attached lengthwise to his lower back. His black and white pelt suggested a permanent formal suit, with white stripes down his black back, a white chest and white toes. His face was some amalgam of animal and human, with a short muzzle and floppy black bangs over brown eyes. Instead of ears, he had feathers arranged in sprays, like the back of a woman’s hat. Jahir had never seen anything like him.

The Eldritch walked forward before he could think better of the plan. “Pardon me. May I assist?”

The centauroid glanced at him; all the little girls glanced at him. In the silence, Jahir was suddenly the center of attention.

“What is that?” one of the girls asked.

Another said, “It’s a human in white paint!”

“No, no,” the centauroid said, laughing. He had a pleasant voice, a warm tenor with a furry timbre. “That’s an Eldritch, kara.”

“Those are the ones that never leave their world, right?” another asked.

“I guess not,” the centauroid said with a grin.

“You sure he’s not a painted human?” the first girl asked again. “Or maybe he’s like one of those animals that’s born without skin color?”

The centauroid laughed. “I’m certain. If he were human he wouldn’t be so elongated. He’s an Eldritch, sure as I’m fuzzy.”

“So that means he has secret powers!” This from a human girl with ragged pigtails of dull brown hair and eyes bright as a sparrow’s. “He can read people’s minds, and he has a treasure trove of gold, and he has a dragon protecting his ancient palace, and he’s probably a prince!”

“A lord anyway,” Jahir said, laughing. “But a very, very minor one. Tell me, gentles, what are you doing to yonder man?”

“We’re teaching him to jump rope,” she said.

“Trying, anyway,” another said.

“And he’s not a man,” said the third. “He’s a Glaseah.”

“He’s doing okay for someone with so many legs,” one of the girls untangling him said. She had small limp ears, naked and set on a bald head. Jahir wondered what strange aesthetic had prompted the coif.

“And wings.”

“And arms!”

“I see,” Jahir said.

“Ladies, a little more help, please?” the Glaseah said, for the discussion had distracted them. “I can’t reach some of those tangles, you know.”

“Oh! Sorry!” The human and two of the others went back to picking the rope from around the centauroid’s tail. Jahir watched, fascinated. He had never heard of jump rope, but he couldn’t fathom how they’d managed to tangle the Glaseah up so completely.

“What are you looking at?” another girl asked, the shortest of the six. “You asked if you could help, so come help!”