No Other Love (26 page)

“Now then,” she said, suiting action to her
muttered words, “we walked down the steps, and across the garden to
this spot. There was a tree just here, and another here, and then a
steep slope. I tripped and rolled to the bottom.”

Pushing through the shrubbery, she came up
against the garden wall. She knew Herne had done the same thing
many times in his own futile search for Ananka’s grotto.
Frustrated, she beat at the wall with both hands, but it remained
solid, with no sign of a break or crack in its smooth white
surface. On the other side of the wall was a house similar to
Dulan’s, one of a series of buildings that clustered near the
Gathering Hall.

“Where are you, Ananka?” Merin shouted. “Stop
hiding. Come out and show yourself.
Ananka!”

There was no response. Merin leaned her back
against the wall, mentally going over every step she had taken
through the garden.

With a fluttering sound a green Chon settled
a short distance from her. At the same time, Saray stepped from
behind a bush, giving the appearance of having materialized out of
air.

“Herne is looking for you,” Merin said.

“I know. Jidak has told me of your illness.
He blames me for it.”

“So do I.” Merin had never dared to use such
a challenging tone to anyone before, but her anger was with her
still. “What are you going to do about us, Saray? Will you just let
us die?”

“I’m afraid there is nothing I can do,” Saray
replied. “Let me explain. I want you to understand. I did not want
this new ability. My life was planned to be a simple one spent
perfecting my talent. We all knew it was exceptional. There is no
special merit attached to it. I was born with it, as I was born
with dark hair and eyes, but like intelligence or an inborn skill
in music, telepathic ability exists to be developed for the benefit
of all. For the sake of that talent I married an elderly man who
became my tutor after I left Dulan’s schooling.

“Ananka approached me; I did not seek her. At
first, my husband encouraged me to experiment with time, as Ananka
wanted, in order to expand my powers. I did not question his
urging. I believed myself safe because I had his experience and
strength to guide me. But he died, leaving me with no advisor, for
I would no long listen to Dulan. I thought Ananka was mentor
enough, and I had become completely immersed in our
experiments.

“More than a year after my husband died,
Hotan came to my home to make some repairs. He is a carpenter, a
man young and vigorous, while I am approaching middle age. I had
never enjoyed physical love until Hotan lay with me. Merin, do you
know what it is to want a man you should not desire, a man who can
bring you only pain? Have you ever loved so deeply that you cannot
stop what you know should not happen?”

“Yes,” Merin said, “I know.” The
all-too-familiar dizziness struck her, and she put out a hand to
the nearest solid object, steadying herself on the Chon. The bird
did not move; it did not even look at her. Its soft black eyes were
on Saray, but as Merin’s hand rested on the green feathers,
strength returned to her shaking arms and legs and her thoughts
began to clear.

“Of course you understand,” Saray said. “You
love Herne.”

“Herne does not love me,” Merin said sadly.
“Not anymore.”

“Nor does Hotan love me,” Saray told her.
“What he wants in me is my telepathic power. While I am, for the
first time in my life, enthralled by the pleasures of a man’s
body.” She put her hand on the Chon’s breast, laying her head
against it in a gesture of profound sorrow.

“And now I will lose everything dear to me,”
she said. “My truest friends have forsaken me, because of what I
have done. Ananka has drained my power for her experiments until it
barely exists any more. Once it is gone, it cannot be replenished.
When Hotan learns how weak I have become, he will leave me.

“There will be other, younger women for him,
but I will live the remainder of my life alone, without the talent
that gave the deepest meaning to my existence. Dulan was right
about the experiments: they are wrong. Worse, they are morally
dangerous. In my pride I believed for a while that I could change
time itself. Now I know the power Ananka promised me was an
illusion and, as Dulan warned, I feel madness gradually overtaking
my mind.”

Merin could think of no response to this
confession. She doubted that even Dulan could do anything to help
Saray. The two women stood linked together by their mutual contact
with the Chon, each leaning upon it, each drawing strength from the
great bird. As the minutes passed, Merin became aware of the energy
vibrating between the bird and Saray. With a start she realized
what was happening. In her intense interest in what Saray was
telling her, Merin had almost forgotten that the Chon had
telepathic power as well as intelligence. Now it seemed to her that
the bird was not only lending physical strength to Saray, but in
addition it was feeding telepathic energy to her. Merin, with no
telepathic power of her own, could not partake of this generous
offering, but for her, physical fortification was enough.

“I will do whatever I can for you,” Saray
said at last in a much firmer voice than before. “Return to Dulan’s
house and wait for me. Tell Herne to wait, too.”

* * * * *

It was late evening before Saray appeared,
looking fragile but triumphant.

“Ananka will see you at sunrise,” she
said.

“It’s about time.” Herne glared at her. “You
have been hiding from me.”

“I will conceal myself no longer,” Saray
said, taking a seat. “Dulan, may I stay with you until morning? I
don’t want to see Hotan just now, and my house is far away.”

“You can sleep in the guestroom with Merin,”
Herne said before Dulan could answer. “I’ll sit up here. I won’t be
able to sleep.”

Nor did Merin or Saray sleep, though they
dutifully retired to the guest chamber and lay down on the bed. In
spite of having eaten heartily during the evening, throughout that
long night Merin could feel her strength seeping steadily away.
With every hour that passed she was weaker, and she knew that no
food in Tathan could adequately fill her empty stomach. When Herne
knocked on the door, calling out that it was nearly daylight, Saray
had to help her to stand, and it took all of her strength to pull
on her boots and adjust her coif. She slung her useless recorder
over her shoulder, then picked up her own kit along with Herne’s,
which she gave to him when they met in the sitting room.

“In case we are able to go home at once,” she
said, trying to smile at him, “we ought to have all of our gear
with us.”

“Your hand-weapons, too,” Dulan said,
returning them. “I know now that you would only use them in
self-defense.”

Herne looked as sick as Merin felt, but he
stood resolutely upright and followed Saray toward the garden with
determined if slightly wavering steps. Dulan walked beside him as
if to lend support. In the grey light of early dawn they found the
green Chon waiting for them among the bushes and white flowers.

“Well?” Herne demanded with a touch of his
old energy. “Where is she? Where is the entrance to her
grotto?”

“Ananka will appear when she is ready,” said
Saray.

“We can’t stand here all day,” Herne
objected, swaying a little.

The Chon cocked its head and made a soft
clucking sound. The rear garden wall disappeared in a blaze of
light. As the light faded, Ananka stood before them.

For this appearance, Ananka had once again
assumed her image of Merin’s face and body, but still with light
brown hair. Her golden cloak swirled above her white gown, and a
few locks of hair rippled as if a breeze blew, though the air in
the garden did not stir.

“Herne,” Ananka said, “I knew you would come
to me.”

“Come to you?” Herne exploded. “We have been
trying to find you for days. What in the name of all the stars do
you think you are doing to us? Are you deliberately trying to kill
us? And if so, why? We’ve never done you any harm.”

“I need you,” Ananka said. “I need your
love.”

“Well this is no way to get it.” Herne was
weaving on his feet, trying to stay upright.

“You are ill,” Ananka said with a look of
pained surprise.

“Ill?” he shouted at her, unable to contain
his rage. “We are dying because of you and this deluded telepath
you’ve been using for your cursed experiments.”

“You should not be ill,” Ananka insisted.

“They should not be
here,”
Dulan said.
“Wicked creature, you have forced them into the wrong time and it
is killing them.”

“I want to know why you’ve done this to us,”
Herne declared. “Why me? Why Merin?”

“I also want to understand your motives,”
Dulan said, “because this kind of interference in the lives of
others is prohibited by telepaths.”

“It was not forbidden to Saray,” sneered
Ananka.

“Yes, it was, and I am deeply at fault here.”
Saray stood before Ananka with clenched fists, looking as angry as
Herne at his most fierce. “Moving simple objects through space and
time was questionable enough, considering the disruptions such acts
can cause. Moving simple, living creatures was worse still. Moving
intelligent life forms was immoral beyond all forgiveness.
And I
helped you!”
Saray’s last sentence was a cry of
self-reproach.

“It was only an experiment,” Ananka
protested, shrugging her shoulders and laughing.

“If you were as all-powerful as you would
have us believe, instead of a foolish and mischievous spirit,” said
Dulan, “then you would need no explanation of something so simple
as the moral obligation to use your power responsibly, to do no
harm with it.”

“You can discuss ethics later.” Herne cut
across Dulan’s measured words with angry abruptness. “Now that we
are all together, Ananka, I want to know who or what you are, and
what you intend to do with us. Make your explanation fast and
basic; we don’t have much time.”

“I recall a night when I found your
impatience charming,” Ananka said, smiling at him until he took a
step toward her. When she saw by his frozen face and menacing
posture that he meant to have some answers, she sighed
dramatically. “Very well, since you insist, I will explain. I am
one of an ancient race of entities who journeyed to this world eons
before insignificant creatures like you came into existence. There
were hundreds of us then. We were happy and confident in our
strength because we had brought with us lesser beings who
ministered to our needs and respectfully honored our great powers.
But as time passed the race of servants died, until there was no
one left here but ourselves. It was then we learned we are not
immortal. Deprived of the close relationship we had once enjoyed
with our servants, my kind began to weaken, and one by one we
ceased to exist. There were but three of us left on this world when
the ones with open minds settled here.”

“The telepaths,” Herne murmured.

“They treated us with respect,” said Ananka,
“and in the beginning their presence renewed our hope, for we saw
in them a new race of servants. But the telepaths have proven to be
uncontrollably independent of mind and remarkably diverse in their
attitudes toward superior beings. Only a few of them, young rebels
all, have shown any willingness to honor me as I should be honored.
I had begun to fear for my own life when you and your friends
arrived at Tathan.

“Long, long ago, on another world,” Ananka
said, looking at Herne with a wistful expression, “there was a
Herne who served me well. I thought one with the same name would
serve again, and I knew from your careless thoughts when first I
saw you that you were curious about Merin. I decided to separate
the two of you from your close companions in order to discover if
you would dare to make your idle dreams come true. You have become
lovers, as I hoped you would. Now you will settle here among the
telepaths, to breed and increase in numbers. Your descendants will
provide me with the servants I require.”

“You want worshippers,” Merin said. “You want
to become a goddess.”

“In another part of the galaxy, before you
humans existed,” Ananka replied, “I
was
a goddess, and a
great one. So I will be again, before many more centuries have
passed.”

“You haven’t been listening to us. We won’t
live long enough to provide you with worshippers. We are dying,”
Merin cried, but Herne stopped her despairing words.

“It is obvious from your talk about the
future,” he said to Ananka, “that I hold a piece of vital
information you don’t have yet.”

“Really?” Ananka looked at him
doubtfully.

“I’ll make a bargain with you,” Herne
offered. “Send Merin and me home and I’ll tell you what I
know.”

“There is no need for a goddess to bargain
with lowly beings like you,” Ananka said with regal scorn. “I will
simply take your knowledge from your mind.”

“You will not! You have done enough harm. You
have used me and my abilities most shamefully. I will help you no
longer.” Saray moved to stand next to Herne. She placed one hand on
his shoulder at the same time that Dulan placed a hand on Merin’s
shoulder. Behind them, the green Chon moved closer, spreading its
wings. A humming sound filled the air, while a vibrating shimmer
rose like a barrier between the little group and Ananka, who began
to fade into near transparency.

“Stop!” Ananka had become almost invisible.
“Stop that infernal noise. I won’t hurt anyone. I will listen to
your bargain.”

The humming stopped. The shimmering barrier
vanished. Ananka became substantial once more.

“It’s that vile bird,” she said. “My kind
never could master them.”