WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) (26 page)

Ash had not heard from any of them again. One curious thing happened, however. When he had put the stones into Dorian’s hands, the small gems had burned with light, a sudden unmistakable flash. It was as if they were sentient and had agreed to the transaction, as if they wanted to go with Dorian.

Ash glanced over at his wolf family. They hadn’t moved. No wonder, after that large meal. Shutting his eyes, Ash did what he always did whenever he had some time to himself: he searched for an animal mind to touch.

Reaching out, he made contact.

Ah,
Ash thought as a light cool breeze stroked his pure white feathers in a loving, soft caress. Tenderly the gentle currents of air lifted him, pushing him higher. When he soared like this, in the body of a bird, he recalled Delian folklore concerning fairies, knights, monsters, magic, wiccans and warlocks. Childhood stories told to him by his parents came back to him, such as Gilbert the wise and Nacastri the brave. Air, Earth, Fire and Water — while all four were fundamental, Air was always what Ash from his earliest memories had most identified with. Flying seemed so natural. Often as a child, when fighting desperate illness, he envisioned the magical power of air — the soul and breath of life. In times of near death it seemed to him that he had floated ethereal and disembodied; as if he could mind-touch the air itself.

The magic of air was also associated with the color white. Auspiciously Ash was in mind-touch with a whitehawk, a creature as elemental as the air itself. Supremely elated, Ash soared far above his own body in the winged form of the great white bird. He thought it strange that he should so completely identify with air and spirit when his own powers were more closely linked to heat and fire. The whitehawk, like Ash’s wolf family, had also already eaten well, and was serenely catching updrafts for pure enjoyment and, of course, to look over its territory.

“Air keeps trouble and strife at bay, blows positive thoughts to those far away.”
At least that was how the saying went as Ash recalled. But who might he send a positive thought to other than Seeta, Teella and Long Fang? The answer sprang into his mind as soon as he considered it.
Peace to you Lovely Lady Lindha — I hope to meet you soon,
Ash thought.

A sharp turn in the green sky drew his attention back to the whitehawk. They were haughty creatures, considering themselves superior to other animals by virtue of their wings as well as their speed and agility. They often fought among themselves over imagined ills or to protect their territory or their mate. Ash had never known them to feel fear, and all whitehawks enjoyed a skirmish. Fighting gave them an excuse to perform daring stunts in the air. When two whitehawks fought it was not to the death. Usually one whitehawk gave up, conceding defeat to the other by virtue of the other’s flying skills.

This particular whitehawk currently had no desire for combat, which was a blessing. The last thing Ash wanted was to become involved in a dizzying maneuver or dive. Exhilarated, Ash soared high above the mountaintops, catching an occasional thermal updraft. The air was crisp and cold the higher he went. It was empty in the green open sky, quiet except for the soft whisper of the wind through his wings. There! With the whitehawk’s keen sense of sight, he spotted something. It was a shiny reflection that seemed out of place.

To the whitehawk he projected:
“What is that, here in my Territory?”

The whitehawk changed direction and glided toward the object. It was
Assurance
! Ash almost lost contact with the shock of surprise.
Assurance
. Here.

With the urgency of discovery, Ash lost his subtlety.
“Go there.”
He commanded the whitehawk like a voice from God and the whitehawk obediently flew down and landed at the foot of the vessel.

Ash stared up at the warship, dumbfounded.
Assurance
stood, hidden by blue and green ivy. In all these years the proud Lady had remained erect, honor intact.

For the love of Jana! The ship was so far from the den. Seeta and Long Fang had dragged him for kilometers in the deep snow and storm of that fateful night.

“Time to go,”
he thought, and the whitehawk flew off. Staring through the whitehawk’s acute vision, Ash carefully studied landmarks, noting the terrain. Certain now that he would be able to find the vessel on foot, he broke contact.

Ash opened his eyes and gazed around to reorient himself, shaking his head in disbelief. All that time in his first years with the wolves he had looked for
Assurance
, but had never found it. No wonder. The distance! The wolves refused to discuss the subject, pretending non-comprehension if he ever brought it up. They were afraid for him, perhaps because his mother lay inside.

Well, Sartha was well gone now. She was dead and the dead are gone, he thought with animal logic. His excitement began to build. Now he could recover the Testimonials. He never did get to read the Interpretations.

Ash stood up, and Seeta raised her head from where it rested comfortably between her paws in order to gaze at him. She looked at him curiously with her calm regard.

“Mother,”
he thought.
“I know where the vessel I came in rests. I’m going to go and see what’s in it.”

Seeta rose to her feet instantly.
“Don’t go.”

Ash bent down on one knee and stroked her.
“You are a silly twill,”
he thought in gentle admonition.
“I’m not leaving. That old ship can’t fly anyway. I just want to go there and retrieve something that’s mine.”
He ruffled her thick red coat and stood up.
“I’ll be back.”

Seeta didn’t answer, but her eyes were dark with worry. Long Fang and Teella looked up, sensing a disturbance in the tranquil harmony of their rest.

“Don’t worry.”
Ash smiled at her, blithely unconcerned.
“What could happen?”

Seeta sat back down.

It was obvious to Ash that she wanted to go with him, but Teella needed her now. Ash waved goodbye.

The wolves looked at him in silent farewell. Seeta dropped to the ground and laid her head on her forelegs, letting out a deep breath. She watched Ash walk away and made no move to follow.

The best triumph of all is to conquer oneself; to be conquered by base desires is of all things most shameful. This is one certain Truth, as acknowledged by the parables of Jana. Yet there is a little known corollary to this fact that seems to disprove the original theorem. For one sure way to wholly banish temptation is to give in to it.

— Wanisai Senior Courtesan Case Supervisor

T
he Lady Lindha sighed with pleasure. The heavens this night were cloudless. The universe beckoned, and a galaxy of comets, stars and planets shone brightly in the velvet dark above.

It was late evening. Twenty-two-year-old Lady Lindha, Prefect of the High Temple of Jana on Opan was alone, laying on a recliner, surrounded by the night sky in the Constellation chamber. Situated at the top level, its ceiling was a transparent impermeable field that allowed an uninterrupted view. The clear membrane included an adjustable magnification capability. Lindha had set magnification at 200X, which clarified the heavens in the same way a scanning-transmission microscope made atoms visible to the human eye.

The Prefect had inherited the title and duties from the Lady Jeeha, the Prefect that held the title before her. The prefecture was a sacred post, the most senior position in the Temple. Women were trained from birth to hold the rank, and were required to manage the Temple, and remain celibate until they were thirty years of age. At that time they became the second lady, as the Lady Jeeha was now, to a younger prefect. Lindha would remain Prefect until she, too, was thirty years old, or until the foretelling came to pass.

Like all Temple Sisters, the Prefect was fit and had a trim, well-formed figure. Of average height, she was golden haired and blue-eyed. Possessed of many striking assets, her eyes were probably her best feature. They were large and expressive, a clear sky blue, edged by a dark blue rim. Intelligence and kindness could be seen in those eyes, as well as a commanding presence despite her age.

An enormous shooting star suddenly lit up the chamber, trailing a lengthy fiery tail. It sparked and flew across her vision. It was the largest meteor Lindha had seen this evening, much larger by far, and she was thrilled. It was remarkable.

Star light, star bright … first star I see tonight,
she recited to herself. Of course this hadn’t been the first. She had seen three meteors, one after another, each in ever increasing size. The first star had been dazzling, the second even more brilliant, and the third shooting star had outshone them all. It was a sign, especially as three was such a promising number. Lindha wasn’t the least bit superstitious, but …
I wish upon this star …
What should she wish for this time?

As Temple Prefect she was fulfilled in her work, she had various goals and ambitions, many already fulfilled. But for years now she had been having incredibly realistic, sensual dreams. She had told no one, secretly hoping her dreams were a foretelling, although she had never been gifted with the sight.

As she slept, the same man always came to her. Lindha felt a fluttery feeling inside just at the thought of him. She never saw his face, but knew he had long black hair and a passion that burned. Initially he had been passive, somehow there, drawn to her, observing her as she dreamed. The man had been a comfortable and soothing presence, a silent witness to her sleeping self. As time went on, however, she began to experience him, to know what he felt. With some visions came intense, powerful feelings. Sometimes she would get fleeting, confusing glimpses of a man in a police uniform — there was always rage and hate associated with that vision. And wolves … there were often red wolves, but in her dreams the young man loved them. He always loved them.

Often her dream visitor’s emotions flowed into her: black rage, and even blacker guilt. These were feelings Lindha rarely experienced, and never had she felt them so overpoweringly. At times there was such pain, such despair and grief! She wanted to weep, to pull her hair, to scream. Lindha had sleepless nights during these times, her dreams restless and disturbed.

But the moments she sought most were when the man yearned for her with sexual desire and a hunger so great she found herself moaning and thrashing, wanting to go to him, to ease that need. He was her secret lover in these dreams, his hard male body pressed against her, his lips closed over her skin, while his hands caressed her and his calloused palms and long fingers pulled her to him.

She wanted him desperately.

After these dreams she would wake restless and disturbed in another way, and would have to pleasure herself a number of times simply to help her forget his shadowy presence, as well as her sensual imaginings. Then it was always difficult to concentrate on her day. She prayed to Jana that the man in her dreams was the Trueborn, as spoken of by the Seer in the prophecy all those years ago. And she prayed that he was coming to the Temple. That he was coming
for her.

Lindha’s mind returned to the third shooting star, and without further thought she once more wished what she always wished. So silly. So adolescent. Making wishes on shooting stars. For that matter, it was ridiculous to ask for the same thing three times in one night. However, she reminded herself, three was a lucky number …

I wish upon that star:
I wish for love.

There. It was done. But behind this wish, always in her thoughts, was the dark-haired man, the unknown visitor that came to her in her dreams.

The Constellation Room chamber remained soundless and still while the stars continued their spiraling dance across the heavens. The Lady Lindha gazed upon the night sky, but her heart and soul were elsewhere. Her day’s duties were done and these stolen moments were hers alone. She could spend this time as she wished and so she thought of
him
…

S
lipping through the darkened entryway to the Constellation room, the Lady Jeeha, second Lady to the Temple, could distinguish the outline of someone in the recliner. Jeeha smiled, knowing it was the Prefect.
Got you,
she thought, suppressing the impulse to laugh out loud. Lindha was a master at self-defense and was uncannily aware of her environment. Ordinarily it was impossible to sneak up on her, except when she was watching the heavens. As expected, the Prefect hadn’t noticed her arrival.

Jeeha said, “So, you switched Icom off?”

“Oh,” Lindha whirled around in surprise. She sat up and flicked on some low, ambient lighting. “Jeeha, I didn’t hear you. I …” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted some time to myself. Is there something I should know?”

Jeeha’s dark, almond eyes watched her, bemused.
Why was Lindha blushing?
she wondered. “I sent an alert. When I didn’t hear back I thought I’d come find you. The preliminary findings concerning the Damithst crystals have been submitted, I’ve already read them. Temple Prefects and seconds on every Freeworld have been given the results for comment.”

Lindha toggled Icom and read, “Accounts concerning Delian Damithst: Initial conclusions: 1. The stone is not ‘alive’ per biological definition. 2. The stone grows, depending upon unknown circumstances. No explanation can yet be provided for this microscopic growth. 3. The stone can give off measurable energy in the form of electromagnetic radiation. No explanation can be provided for why or how this energy is created. 4. The stone can stop growing and ‘die’ (blacken). 5. The stone could therefore be possibly considered ‘alive’ by a heretofore unknown alien definition. Research ongoing.”

“Well,” Lindha said, gently stroking the small jewel that rested on her right nostril.

“Perhaps they are living spiritual guides from Jana,” said Jeeha, stroking her own small jewel. It felt warm to her touch.
Was it a living being?
she wondered. A strand of her dark-brown hair had escaped the comprehensive and uniquely styled braid she had curled atop her head. The loosened tendril of hair shifted, tickling her cheek.

“And perhaps they are an alien race. Conceivably they only appear in crystal form while they study us.”

They both smiled at that.

“If they are Incomprehensible Alien Entities, I’m sure they’re benevolent.”

“I certainly agree with you there.” With the trained graceful stride of a Sister, Jeeha drifted over to another recliner. “This is a calming venue. I think I’ll sit here for awhile, as you seem so fond of doing.”

“Good for you, I recommend it. I find the Constellation chamber more soothing than a chapel.” Lindha grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “Don’t take this personally, Jeeha, but now that you’ve arrived I’m off to bed.”

“Good night then, Prefect.”

“Good night,” Lindha replied as she left.

The older woman nodded as Lindha left and thought,
Until tomorrow my friend.
She and Lindha, the two Sisters were as close as … well, sisters. They had served alongside one another for years, as comfortable and perfectly paired as a matching set of gloves.

By night the Temple was a dormitory; by day a school for students of all ages and sexes. A select educational institution of some repute, its teachers were honored and well paid. The Temple flourished in every way. The wealthiest people on Opan sent their sons and daughters to board and study any subject. The Temple’s religious beliefs were personal and not in any way mandatory. Graduates from the Temple of Jana were considered to have the best education available. There was at least one Temple on every Freeworld, and on some worlds there were hundreds of such Temples.

Jeeha lay back, Icom’d a reduction of the ceiling membrane magnification to a darker 100X, turned off all lights, and put on a restful orchestral piece, one of her recent favorites. Iris Surette’s 4
^th
concerto featured a host of sweet and poignant violins in G and F major. At peace with the world, Jeeha breathed in deeply and watched the glowing band of stars that arched and spiraled across the black satin curtain of the Opan night sky.

Her mind relaxed as she thought over her day. She had been working in the infirmary. New mothers brought their children in, concerned over the child’s strange behaviors, tantrums, or hysteria. Unless they had a temperature, her advice was always the same:
“Something wrong with your child? Feed them and put them to bed.”
From her observation, as long as the child was in a loving environment, most problems with children were solved by a good meal and a good night’s sleep.

She smiled to herself. Men were a lot like children. She had coined another expression for the other women that came to her, the wives and the girlfriends:
“Something wrong with your man? Feed him and take him to bed.”

It was wonderful how simple men were. After a stressful day, if a man came home distraught all was instantly fixed with a good meal and good sex. A woman, of course, suffering the same sort of day, would have to talk out her troubles, sometimes for hours. A woman needed resolution in order to concentrate on sex.

Ah well.
Jeeha crossed her ankles.
Jana had to have something to laugh about,
she reminded herself.
The difference between men and women was a definite example of Goddess humor.

I
t was dusk when Ash arrived at
Assurance
. The ship was well hidden, as it had lodged into a crevice of rock and now was covered in creepers. He shook his head, amazed. He had been a puny thirteen-year old, prone to lung infection, undersized and completely lacking life experience. Somehow he had lived through a crash landing, and had been passed over by a pack of hungry wolves. Injured and ill, he’d been dragged for kilometers in sub-zero temperatures. Almost in contempt of the odds, he’d survived.

It was Seeta that had saved him. Ash smiled. He had been given two mothers in his short life.
Thank you, Jana,
he thought gratefully, realizing how lucky he was. Two mothers and both loved him and nurtured him in their own way.

Peering inside, Ash found the
Assurance
dirty with the filth of animals. A variety of blue and violet creeper plants even had the audacity to grow inside the once-stately vessel. An odd lime green bit of vegetation stood out, seemingly thriving from within the darkened interior. Ash stared at it for a moment too long and Icom cheerfully began to explain that this was the trumpet vine, so called due to its brown and yellow trumpet shaped flowers that attracted the long-billed dove. Ash ended this dissertation and sighed.

It was difficult to recall
Assurance
as she once had been. He used Icom to try to locate where the safe may be, then moved an avalanche of junk to uncover the security console. It was intact. Four years or four hundred, it would not be easily breached.

Ash camped under the open sky. Unsettled by the close proximity of
Assurance
and the memories it recalled, he spent a restless night with disturbing dreams — nightmares, really. He made love to his mother again — blissfully unaware that he was in a dream until he began to take off his police uniform. That one action always brought him to consciousness, but not enough to wake him from his sleep — just enough to make him realize who he was. He had to continue the nightmare to the end, going through the actions as they happened.