Traitor's Sun by Marion Zimmer Bradley Page A

surface thoughts from time to time. Think of all the paintings I have not interrupted,” he begged, trying to deflect her ire.
    “But why did you never tell me?” The pain and betrayal in her voice cut him right to the heart.
    “If I say it was a matter of policy, you will murder me.” He sighed and sat down beside her. “You know as well as I do that the Federation has ears everywhere, and this was a secret I did not wish to share with them.”
    “Why?” Her voice was cold and distant.
    “I did not want to vanish into some laboratory, which would have been my fate if I had been discovered.” He held back a sigh, and tried to think of what to say next. “First, not everyone on Darkover is a telepath, and indeed the Gifts occur in only a small part of the population. And of those, few have great powers, although there are enough of these to . . .”
    “How many? And how is it that the Federation doesn’t know about this?”
    “I don’t know an exact number—maybe two percent of the entire population.” He rubbed the top of his bald head. “As for the other, it is a long tale, and not a happy one. Once, years ago, we agreed to participate in something called Project Telepath. Just in time we realized that the Federation could not be trusted not to abuse our talents, and Lew Alton managed to persuade certain influential scientists that the claims had been exaggerated, that there were many fewer telepaths on Darkover than had been thought, and that it was a rare and inconsistent ability, hardly worthy of pursuit. Then he got the funding for the project cut off. He was afraid, as was I when I took his place, that if it became known that we here on Darkover possessed a population of capable telepaths, we would find ourselves occupied, the way that Blaise II was.”
    “But I am your wife! I did not think we had secrets between us.” No, that isn’t true! I knew there were secrets, and I was afraid to discover what they were! But I never imagined this. . . .
    “I am sorry, Katherine. I did try to tell you once, when we were on Renney, but I just couldn’t find the right words to begin.” He paused, aware of how feeble it sounded from him, the glib and clever Hermes Aldaran. “I wish I had kept a mistress and fathered a bunch of illegitimate brats instead of not telling you about this.” He sighed again, deeply this time, and forced himself to tell the whole truth, fearing he would not have the courage another time. “I would have had to soon enough, because there is a high probability that Terése has inherited some of my laran, my paranormal capacities. I have no idea what the nature of it might be, but I just have a strong . . .” He wanted to deflect her anger now, to direct her attention away from his folly.
    “For a mistress, I would indeed have killed you.” Katherine interrupted, almost as if she could not bear to hear the words he was going to say about their daughter, and tried to lighten the mood with a soft, feeble chuckle. “You promise you have never invaded my thoughts willfully?”
    “I swear it, word of an Aldaran! No more than I would read your personal journal, dearest. You must understand that in order for a community of telepaths to continue, we learn to respect the privacy of others from a very young age. We are a very ethical bunch, we Darkovans.”
    “You? Ethical?” Katherine went off into a peal of mirthless laughter. “You are the most devious man in the Federation, Hermes-Gabriel Aldaran, and you know it! Nana told me that there was something about you that you were hiding, but I did not believe her. No, I did not wish to believe her!” She gave him a look, a mixture of sorrow and mistrust that wrenched his heart. Then she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, as if bracing herself to make the best she could of things. “I suppose I might forgive you in a decade or two—but then again I might not. Telepaths! This must be the best kept secret in the