Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine, Jeanne G'Fellers [best summer reads TXT] 📗

Wileyse. Your habit of looking down that skinny nose of yours at everyone is what turned me away.”

Tatra’s slender fingers trembled against her arm. “I do not peer down my nose! What gets me is your need to seek out and sustain friendships with Auts. Aren’t your own people good enough?”

“It’s my job. It’s my post. It’s how I was raised. I’m a Kimshee, for the Mother’s sake! Try talking to Auts instead of down to them and you might find a friend or two. And if you’d ever stop obsessing over yourself—”

“Obsessing?” The healer chewed her bottom lip while she struggled for just the right retort. She wouldn’t give Krell the satisfaction of winning this argument. “I am not obsessed with myself. I’m a healer. Caring for others is what I do. How can I focus on myself when saving a life?”

“It’s the afterglow that slays me, Tatra, that smug look that crosses your face when you succeed. You’re so damn self-absorbed that I could never obtain a full pleasure phase with you, much less enjoy your mind. It was full of self-satisfaction before I ever phased in. The most important person in your life will always be pampered and spoiled, powdered and painted Tatra Wileyse.”

“What a hateful, vengeful bitch you are.”

“It’s been rumored.”

Tatra opened her mouth for another rejoinder when something familiar caught her eye. Krell had that look, that conquering look she always had following good sex. “You didn’t?”

Krell happily fed on the healer’s shock. “I said it was an intense interaction, didn’t I?”

“And intense means?”

Krell raised a brow. “Better than you.”

It was more than Tatra could take. “You mean to tell me you found a first phasing with that inexperienced little apprentice Kimshee better than anything we had in a pass and a half together?”

“Take it as you will.”

“Of all the—” Tatra quelled her barrage when her Autlach assistant appeared in the open doorway. “WHAT?”

“Healer Wileyse,” the young medic whispered his response. “Your patient is ready to depart.”

“Thank you.” Krell passed the Autlach, who promptly saluted. “Good to see someone around here has a few manners.”

Tatra stood in the doorway, hands balled on her knobby hips. “I hope you two are deliriously happy together,” she shouted.

Krell spun in the middle of the corridor. “The only thing I’m sorry for, Tatra, is ever thinking you’d be able to let me in! You never understood me or my ways. Who am I kidding, you never even tried.” She offered a final heated glare, spun back around, and stomped down the hallway.

“Oh, Krell.” Tatra swallowed hard as the Kimshee disappeared around a corner. “In hindsight, it’s surprising we lasted as long as we did. They say it takes a Kimshee to understand a Kimshee. Maybe it’s true.”

“Third Kimshee?” The examining room appeared empty when Krell entered. There was a shuffle and a hand waved from behind the changing screen, fingers wiggling a quick greeting.

“Here, First Kimshee.” LaRenna walked from behind the screen and whirled around, her multilayered skirts billowing as she turned.

All the anger Krell felt from the confrontation with Tatra dissipated. LaRenna looked as if she had been born Autlach, necessary if she was to succeed in reconnaissance against other Taelachs. Her eyes were a delicate fawn brown and her skin the sun-kissed warmth of the Langus farmwomen. She wore a fitted white cap-sleeved work frock, brown overskirts, and flat beast-hide slippers. The untamed mop on her head had been bobbed midneck and glistened with red highlights.

LaRenna viewed herself in the reflecting board above the examining room basin and howled dismay. “I look horrible! So, so, monochromatic. Brown! Every inch of me is brown or some variation thereof.” Her unhappiness increased with the awareness of Krell’s intense stare. “Oh my,” cried LaRenna. “Is it really that bad?”

Krell startled then looked away. “Your appearance merely reminded me of the descriptions of an Earth animal I’ve read about. You look like a wren.”

“What?” LaRenna stopped, thinking the word was an attempted play on her name.

“A wren.” Krell carefully spelled out the word. “Have you ever read any of the archeology files from the ancient human mining colony on Farstar?”

“Yes, First Kimshee, Belsas is a trained historian. However, I am not familiar with this term. Is wren another word for plain or boring in human?”

“No, it’s not.” Krell bit down to keep from admitting just how pleasant LaRenna’s appearance really was. “A wren is a type of animal called a bird. It’s small, brown, and covered with something called feathers.”

LaRenna groaned. “I resemble a dull, brown animal?”

“Birds are fascinating.”

LaRenna ventured another glance at Krell in the reflecting board. “Please tell me more, First Kimshee.”

“For one thing, they fly.”

“Like the winged rodents on Saria Three?”

“Similar, but to achieve flight, birds use wings, not skin stretched between the front and hind legs. Wrens are much smaller, too.” Krell sat on the examining table’s edge and leaned forward, cupping her hand for demonstration purposes. “They’d fit in the palm of your hand. That’s why I called you one.”

LaRenna leaned against the basin as she questioned the analogy. “You are referring to my physical size, First Kimshee?”

“It does concern me.”

“It was never a question during my initial training or coursework,” the pseudo-Autlach interrupted. “Why would it come into play now?”

“Never mind.” Krell stiffened then stood, pacing the room in quick, wide strides. “Practice sliding those lenses back. You’ll need speed if you fall into a fight.”

After several hard blinks and a bit of impatient instruction from her mentor, LaRenna did as instructed, refocusing through her natural pale blue color to find an intent look and phase from Krell waiting for her. Not near good enough, girl. You lack control. This isn’t school. This is reality. I could have killed you twice over.

LaRenna was quick to push Krell’s presence into a far corner of her mind. I’m trying, First Kimshee.

Try harder. Krell gave LaRenna the equivalent of a mental pinch, then dropped her phase. “We’ll reduce your endeavors to working with Autlachs,” she