Free Unexpected Stories by Octavia E. Butler

on, you’ll give me some forewarning of your plans before you act on them.”
    She looked at him, then sighed. “I’ve been a ruling Hao for a long time, cousin. Habit is strong.”
    “I’ve just become a ruling Hao,” he countered. “But I am the Tehkohn Hao, and I do intend to rule.”
    “You are a Tehkohn Hao. Now there are two of us.”
    He flashed white. “Two Hao, Tahneh. I won’t be like your council of judges, merely deciding to do as you say.”
    She stroked his shoulder, smoothing the fur down his arm. He amused her, but she felt a seriousness too. She spoke quietly. “I don’t owe you this warning, cousin, but I’ll give it to you anyway. Unless you’re careful, you’ll become exactly like my council of judges. You dislike responsibility. I’m accustomed to it. Think how easy it would be for you to become lax, satisfied, willing to enjoy the prestige of your coloring while doing nothing to earn it.”
    “That won’t happen, Tahneh.”
    “But,” she whitened slightly, “I’ve given you back your life. That’s enough. What you do with it is up to you.”
    As much warningly as affectionately, she reached over and caressed his throat.

Childfinder
    Standardization of psionic ability through large segments of the population must have given different peoples wonderful opportunities to understand each other. Such abilities could bridge age-old divisions of race, religion, nationality, etc. as could nothing else. Psi could have put the human race on the road to utopia.
    Away from the organization. As far away as I could get. 855 South Madison. An unfurnished three-room house for $60 a month. Rain through the roof in the winter, insects through the walls in the summer. Most of the electrical outlets not working. Most of the faucets working all the time whether they were turned off or not. Tenant pays utilities. My house. And there were seven more just like it. All set in a straggly row and called a court.
    Not that I minded the place really. I’d lived in worse. And I killed every damn rat and roach on the premises before I moved in. Besides, there was this kid next door. Young, educable, with the beginnings of a talent she was presently using for shoplifting. A pre-telepath.
    Saturday.
    She came over at 10 a.m., banging on the door as though she intended to come through it whether I opened it or not. Considering her background and the condition of the door, she might have.
    I let her in. Ten years old, dirty, filthy even at this hour of the morning. Which meant she had probably gone to bed that way. Her mother worked at night and her older sister knew better than to try to make her do anything she didn’t want to do. Like bathe. Most of her hair was pulled back in a linty pony tail. The kind that advertised the fact that she had just started “combing” it herself.
    “Come on in. What do you want?” I knew what she wanted. I’d been waiting for her all morning. But it made her suspicious when I was too nice or too understanding.
    “Here’s your book.” She wasn’t comfortable handing it to me.
    “What happened to the cover?”
    “Larry played with it and tore it off.”
    “Valerie, what’d you let a two-year-old play with a book for?”
    “Mama said share it with him.”
    I took the book from her, keeping my expression just short of disgust. People don’t like you breaking up their things. She knew it and she didn’t expect me to be happy. Actually I didn’t care. There was only one thing I cared about.
    “Did you read it?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Like it?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What did you like about it?”
    She shrugged. “I don’t know.” Beginning of battle. You drag words out of her, one by painful one. You prove to her that she can do a lot more thinking than she’s used to … if she wants to. Then you make her want to. And all the time you push her, guide her thinking just a little. Partly to get her used to mental communication—like letting a baby hear speech so it can