“Papa was talking to Mama one evening,” Valerius said, “and she was thinking about it.”
“Wasn’t he thinking about it too?” I said.
“We don’t know,” he said. “He thinks in a language we don’t understand.”
“That would probably be Etruscan,” I said, “sometimes referred to as the ‘secret language’ of our family. That tidbit of information, by the way, is something you must never tell anyone.”
“If it’s the ‘secret language’ of our family, why haven’t we learned it?” Valerius said.
“It’ll be part of your education in a year or so,” I said. “We didn’t start the triplets on it until a couple of years ago when they were ten. Speaking of triplets—do your little brothers have this ability?”
“Yes, Sir,” Serafina said, “but they’re not as good at it as we are.”
“At least not yet,” her brother said. “Of course, they’re only three.”
Despite Angelina’s often-expressed desire to fill her new house with “a dozen children,” Father had persuaded her to devote her full attention to the twins for five years before she attempted to get pregnant again, and she’d reluctantly agreed.
After that, their questions flew, and I fielded them as honestly as I could. Finally I said, “Okay, guys, it’s time for me to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” they said in unison.
“How long have you been able to do this mind-reading thing?” I said.
“As long as we can remember,” Valerius said.
“And you’ve never told anybody?”
“No, Sir,” Serafina said.
“Why not?”
“We were afraid Papa or Mama would think we were making it up,” she said.
“Yeah,” Valerius said, “and Papa would have just ordered us to stop talking nonsense.”
That’s exactly what he’d have said,I thought.
“What’s it like, being able to read other people’s minds?” I said.
“Kind of fun sometimes,” Valerius said.
“Horrible, most of the time,” Serafina said.
“Horrible?”
“Yes, horrible,” she said. “Most people’s thoughts aren’t very nice a lot of the time, and some of them are downright nasty.”
“I’ve read a few sci-fi/fantasy novels that deal with that problem,” I said. “Usually, the characters in them learn how to shield themselves and block out unwanted thoughts. Can you do that?”
“We couldn’t at first,” Valerius said, “but we finally figured out how.”
“That’s pretty smart of you,” I said, “and it’s certainly the ethical thing to do. It wouldn’t be nice to go around prying into people’s minds all the time, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” he said.
“Who else knows about this?” I said.
The question produced startled looks on their faces. “Come on, guys,” I said, “what else aren’t you telling me?”
“Give us a minute,” Serafina said.
I was watching them carefully, and it was obvious that they’d both retreated into some inner place. When their expressions returned to normal, I said, “You were communicating with someone, weren’t you?”
“Yes, Sir,” Valerius said.
“Then I know who it is.”
“You do?” he said.
“What makes you and your siblings unique,” I said, “is that your father and mother were the first couple to produce children who have all of the special genes that they both possess, plus an additional and totally unique gene. It occurs to me, therefore, that the children of my brother Stefano and his wife Maria—Gaetano and Matteo, who are, as far as I know, the only children other than your brothers who possess those genes, must also have this new ability as well.”
“I told you he was smart,” Valerius said to his sister.
“You’re right, Marco,” she said. “Gaetano and Matteo are just like us.”
“Anybody else?” I said.
“Maybe,” Valerius said.
“Maybe?”
“We just don’t know what to think,” Serafina said, “and that’s the real reason we’re here.”
“You don’t know what to think about what?” I said.
“Every once in a while when Serafina and I are linked together… is there a better word for that?” Valerius said.
“When you’re in rapport probably describes the situation better,” I said.
“Yeah. Anyhow, when we’re in rapport, I guess our ability is stronger, and sometimes we hear a man calling for help.”
“We’re not even sure that he’s a man,” Serafina said, “but he sounds like he’s older than we are.”
“Guys, this is serious,” I said. “What have you told him about yourselves and/or your family?”
“Nothing, Marco,” she said. “Nothing at all.”
“How can you be sure that he hasn’t read your minds and found out things?” I said.
“The connection is much too weak for that,” Valerius said. “We’ve tried to read his mind, and can’t.”
“Besides,” Serafina said, “we can shield ourselves pretty good.”
“Since you’ve never encountered anyone else with the ability you have,” I said, “how can you be sure of that?”
“Because I’ve learned how to shield my thoughts so that Valerius can’t read them, and he can do the same thing.”
“And we’ve never had an actual conversation with him,” Valerius said. “We can hear him, but we’re not certain he hears us.”
“Yeah,” his sister said, “because if he does, he never replies.”
“Until you told me this last bit, I was thinking that we could sit on your revelation for a while, but not anymore. If the wrong people discovered who and what we are, the entire family could be in jeopardy—and I’m talking about thousands of people.”
During the twenty-four hundred or so years of his life, Father had sired some four hundred children, roughly half of whom were male, and he had thousands of descendants in Aragoni and other places around the world.