By the time Colin left Brace’s farm, it was late again, and he was glad he’d dropped Genevieve at home before going there. They’d worked like mad to organize and analyze Brace’s data so that they could compare it with Colin’s in the morning. Hopefully, it would expose whatever variable they were missing. He had no idea what time it was when he finally left, having lost track of it a while ago. Not that it mattered when they were in the middle of a race to save everyone’s lives. But he’d finally had to call it quits when the data on the screen had started blurring and he’d begun nodding off. Damn human limitations. He didn’t need this right now.

His last conversation with Brace before he’d left the orchard ran through his mind again.

“Did you learn anything from your batch?” Brace had asked as Colin had opened the door to his transport and put the portable terminal inside.

“I’m absolutely confounded,” Colin had said, finally allowing his frustration to show now that he was outside, alone with his friend. “I’ve been over it and over it, so have the others, but we can’t find anything that might have triggered it. Nothing new was introduced, with the exception of Genevieve. But she only fed them for one day, and I was doing it for a few days before that since the droid went down. If a human presence really had any effect, we would have seen something long before now.”

Brace cocked his head. “That’s it? She just fed and watered them?”

“Yes. Well, she likes to talk to them, too.”

Brace grinned for a moment, then asked, “Did you talk to them?”

Colin shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course not. But we’ve all seen the research on sound. The effect is minimal. Nothing like this has ever been seen in any previously completed study.”

Brace chuckled. “Well, if that’s the only variable... She is a beautiful woman. No offense but, if I were a Condrafur, I think I would prefer her whispering sweet nothings to me over you. I think that woman’s smile alone probably has the power to resurrect a dead man.”

Colin laughed. “You may have something there.”

“Well, now that your Condrafurs are doing well, would you mind sending her over to my orchard anyway? I’m sure the rest of my trees could use some of her friendly chatter. And, at this point I’m more than willing to put my faith in a little sweet talk if it means it will keep us all from starving to death.”

They both chuckled.

And then, it was as if a solar flare kicked up inside Colin’s mind. His chuckle cut off and he was heading back inside to the nearest terminal with a stunned Brace trailing after him.

“Colin? What’s—”

Colin held up a hand. “Just a moment...” He pulled up the picture Brace had shown him earlier. Then, just to confirm, he ran outside to have a look.

Brace followed him. “Is something wrong? What’s going on?”

“These trees,” Colin said. “Genevieve was standing here next to them when I called her to go this morning. It was this exact same cluster.”

“Really? That’s a coincidence.” Brace scratched the back of his neck as he looked up at the tall, perfectly healthy Usilian Jerines.

“I’m starting to think it’s more than a coincidence,” he said. “In fact, it’s too much of one. However impossible it is, it looks like we’re going to have to keep our minds open to the possibility that there’s something about her they’re responding to.”

Brace shrugged his wide shoulders. “Never hurts to be thorough. If she’s all that’s left for us to look into ... it’s simple, we look into it.”

But to Colin, it wasn’t that simple. Prior to that conversation, all he could think of was getting home and slipping into bed next to Genevieve. And now, as he landed at the house, he wondered what she would think of them focusing on her as their next area of study. Since she’d told him very little about herself up to this point, he guessed the news wouldn’t be welcome at all.

*****

JUST WHEN GENEVIEVE thought she could get used to life on Garrulus Four and fit in among the humans, Colin delivered the unsettling news over breakfast of what was planned for that day. She was to submit herself to a medical examination and then further observation and testing by the science team while she worked in the Brace’s orchard.

Panic fluttered in her ribs at the very thought of such attention. “But what if nothing happens? What if I can’t do it?” Even the thought of trying caused a stifling pressure to bloom in her chest. She would rather stay at home bored to tears than endure what he described.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said simply, his voice far too calm for the situation.

The ridiculousness of his statement caused her voice to rise to a shrill pitch. “How can it not matter? They’ll all be depending on me. If I can’t do it, everyone will die!” Nerves made her rise from her chair to pace the floor.

Colin rose as well. “No. It would just mean that we were wrong and we’ll have to figure out some other solution.” He stepped toward her and rested his hands on her shoulders, halting her pacing.

She wished she could have faith in his calm and his confidence.

“The only thing that anyone’s going to feel is grateful that you tried,” he continued. “It’s a long shot and everyone knows it. Nobody, not from the scientists on down to the new arrivals would feel the slightest bit of disappointment if nothing happens because it’s a wild idea to begin with, right?”

“Yes. It is.” He had no clue just how wild it was. In addition to her being a Jinn with no power, Jinn in general had no power over living things. Whatever had made them grow, it wasn’t her.

Colin ran his fingers through her hair, which was still loose because he hadn’t tied it up for her yet. “It’s nothing that any of them could do themselves, so why would they have any expectations? If anyone is a disappointment, it’s us scientists. We’ve been trying for months and months to get these damn plants to flourish and we’ve had nothing but disappointment, nothing but failure.”

“That’s right.” She relaxed, the tension in her shoulders dissipating somewhat at his words. “You have been trying. And your friends ... they seem to respect you despite that.”

He cocked his head at her. “Is that what you’re worried about? Why would they lose respect for me? Or you? My success or failure in research, my skills in general, have almost no effect on any of my relationships. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does where I come from,” she said in a low voice. “Skills matter a lot. Sometimes I think that they’re all that matters.”

“Really?” he said in a neutral tone. Then he remained silent, but Genevieve knew he was eager to hear more.

The question was, how much should she tell him? “Where I lived, I was nobody. They were getting ready to send me away because I lacked a ... skill.”

“Do you mean your family?” His brows pulled together.

She nodded and looked down, her hair falling forward around her face. “Where I come from, if you don’t show any ability by a certain age, you’re sent to live ... elsewhere.”

“What kind of ability are you talking about? From what I can see, you’re just as normal as any of us, and beautiful on top of that.” He put his fingers beneath her chin and gently raised it.

She gave him a quick smile, feeling like a bashful girl again. He was such a wonderful combination of warmth and strength that she wanted to wrap her arms around his waist and bury her face in his chest, but she resisted the urge.

“Well, then let’s take this from the other point of view. Why shouldn’t you tell me? I promise you, whatever it is, I will keep it in the strictest confidence.”

“That I know.” She smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. “You’re such a sweet man. I ... I’m just not sure if I should explain.” She sighed and stepped away from him to look out the window at the desert where the wind was kicking up small sand zephyrs.

“You can trust me, Genevieve.”

“I know,” she said again. She had no idea what would show in the humans’ tests, when they examined her. She knew Jinn differed from humans. But in which concrete scientific ways, she had no idea. It wasn’t something the Jinn had ever concerned themselves with. Maybe they didn’t differ at all. But it was probably best to tell Colin, just in case, even if she had no power to demonstrate in order to prove it. She just knew it would pain her to see the skeptical look on his face when she did. After all, the Jinn were going to declare her a human, and here she was about to convince a human that she was Jinn.

She turned to face him. “Okay. Well, at the very least you’ll be glad to know that you’re right about me being different. I’m not human. I am Jinn.”

“A what?” One of his brows furrowed.

Did Jinn not live in this universe? Was she the first? “Jinn. Jinny.”

He shook his head.

“Genie?”

His expression remained blank.

“Beings created of light who possess magical powers.”

“Oh. Okay.” He crossed his arms across his chest, then put one hand to his chin. “So, you’re saying your people have magical powers? What power do you have?”

Genevieve could see that he was doing his best to remain neutral. There were plenty of humans who refused to believe in Jinn despite the plethora of proof. So, she continued on, glad that he was at least attempting to keep an open mind, just so that he would have all the facts before they headed over to the orchard.

“That’s just it. I don’t have any powers.” She moved past him to sit on the couch. “My family is so powerful, everyone thought I would turn out to be as well. Most Jinn’s powers emerge when they are children. In rare cases, it doesn’t manifest until later. And, in even rarer cases, nothing ever manifests. Everyone used to think my parents were keeping mine quiet for so long because I was special and they wanted me to get a handle on it before declaring myself before the tribunal.”

“What’s that?” He came and sat beside her.

“It’s a ceremony where we appear before the head of the Afrit and demonstrate what we are. Once a power is determined, it shows where the Jinn fits in our society. We all contribute to our way of life, so it determines our status. Those with the most power hardly have to put forth any effort to contribute. Of course, they bring a lot of value to our world though. Those with the least are the working class among us. To earn their place, they spend more time and effort using the lesser powers they have.”

“How old are you when you have to do the, uh, demonstration?”

Her brow wrinkled as she thought. “Human age is different from Jinn’s. We live a lot longer than you do. But we could be described as children when we are given the first opportunity to declare. The second opportunity is given when we are adolescents. The last and final opportunity is allowed to take place when we reach maturity.”

He grinned. “That makes me wonder how old you are.”

She shrugged and grinned back. “In years, far older than you. In state, we are the same age.”

“What happens if you have nothing to show at the final, uh, tribunal?”

He was the very epitome of an impartial scientist, she thought, collecting all the details, questioning. So far, he hadn’t laughed at her or called her crazy, and she appreciated his steadiness even more. “If no power manifests, then the Jinn is declared to have no value and sent to live among humans.”

“They’re exiled?”

She nodded.

“Is that what happened to you?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. It was coming up though. My being here is entirely an accident. I thought I would take one last vacation and enjoy the perks of being Jinn. But something went wrong...”

He pulled her into his arms, and the last of her words were muffled but she didn’t care. It felt good to be held, to have someone care about her pain.

“You were trying to go on vacation and ended up here?”

She nodded against his chest and heard his snort of wry amusement.

“Sounds like someone played a cruel joke on you.”

“I know. I think that’s exactly what happened.” She clung to him and swallowed back the tightness in her throat, then gave a small cough to clear it so she could finish saying what she really wanted to say as painful as it would be to admit out loud. “So, you see, Colin? Whether you believe me or not, what I’m trying to tell you is that it’s impossible that I could have affected the plants in any way. I have no power.”