Science Fiction

"I'm afraid we'll have to brave a small crowd on the way out. News of your…return has been hard to keep quiet."

"I should imagine." I smile congenially at him and allow myself to be led from the room. The crowd doesn't surprise me, though small is an understatement. I've sensed them building outside all along. I brace myself, grateful for the doctor's arm, and we emerge onto a long walkway. The floor drops away on both sides, and the spaces are filled with craning faces. I'm torn between scanning the assembly for some shred of recognition and shying from any contact with the eager expressions. In the end, I dart sparing glances at random people. Nothing stirs any memory.

Halfway across the space I give up and choose to focus on the long strips of blue-tinted lights that line the walls. I think that nothing seems familiar here because this isn't where I belong. Perhaps, I think, this is a prison after all.

I hate to consider the doctor as a participant in my capture, perhaps even directly responsible for removing my memory, but the possibility can't be ignored. It is, given the unbelievable alternative that is their story, quite likely closer to the truth. Yet I allow myself to be led toward another curving doorway. I have few options, few options for now.

I concentrate, instead, on how playfully the blue light interacts with the metal of my dress. The fabric flashes and shoots refracted fire as I move in it. I let myself be mesmerized by the effect. The door is near, and Doctor Williams slows as we approach it. My irritation surges again. Another foreign hallway beyond this one? Another unfamiliar room? Suddenly, I have no wish to continue peaceably. I have no interest in allowing myself to be led to any destination they've selected. I scan sideways from the door, searching for a pathway of my own choosing, wherever it may lead.

I'm struck dumb by a familiar face. He stands back from the others, aside from them, but near the door. Where I'm most likely to see him, I decide. He leans against the gray wall and looks at the ceiling. The strong muscle of his jaw tenses. Lines etch across his rugged face. My chest lurches at the sight of him. I search for a name to assign to the single familiar person in this crowded hall. The set shoulders and staggered legs ring through my mind looking for something to cling to.

Exact memories, like the name I want to put to him, shy from my grip. The feeling sweeps through me of something just on the tip of my tongue, too elusive to pin down. I'm frantic to snare it, but it dances out of reach. I realize that I've stopped walking.

His red hair crowns a complexion nowhere near pale. He shifts his gaze downward slowly, with great intention, and meets my gaze. The intensity in his eyes belies his casual pose. He knows me.

In an instant, I'm lifted from the room, my mind trapped in darkness without a body to attach to. I drift without direction or purpose in a sea of warmth. Softly, the singing whispers, return, return to me. The persistent voice hovers near desperate, saturated with emotion. The words pull me down.

I come back to myself. The doctor tugs gently at my arm. Concern scrawls across his face. I see the question there. "I'm fine," I say, stepping in line with him once more. "Get me out of here, okay?" And we pass through the second doorway together.

“She seems to have activated on her own.” Rolland smiled at the cavorting creature ahead of him.

The voice from the other end of the com seemed eager, “Is she well?”

“She’s flying. It looks like she has picked up her birthright. You may be able to visit sooner than you thought, Olaris.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me, Sovereign.”

“Yes, I do. Your loss was one that most would not have been able to bear, but she is alive, alert and rippling with power. Despite the physician’s assessments, she has both of your characteristics.”

“Balen will be pleased. He has been alone for so long.”

“The same amount of time as you since the day your wife passed into the next world.”

“We knew it would happen. She was at the end of her duty as avatar for Balen and could not withstand the rigors of the pregnancy.”

“Enough. You can explain this all to your daughter as soon as I catch her.”

While they had been talking, Sovereign had been following his soon-to-be partner through the skies. Eventually, she noted his attention and slowed to let him draw even.

She cuddled up to the side of the shuttle and her deep black eyes bored into his soul as she watched him through the window.

He mouthed two words to her, Sector Guard, and her face immediately brightened. He flicked the controls to open the side door and grinned when she took the hint.

She seemed remarkably cheerful for someone who was radiating enough power to rip him and his shuttle apart.

“Did you say you were with the Sector Guard?” She walked slowly and carefully up to the cockpit and her gaze met his.

He knew what she was looking at. His dark violet skin had given more than one person pause in his lifetime. That, coupled with his white hair and scarlet eyes, made him a striking example of his species.

“I am. I am here to assist in the cessation of operations of the mine. Balen has begun to wake again and as he comes out of mourning, he is rather upset with what the colonists have been doing in his absence.”

“I can imagine it would be rather distressing. I had no idea that Balen was sentient.”

Sovereign took in the view that was available to him. She was wearing a work suit that would be more suited to a miner than someone with her grace and style.

“He is, but he has been mourning his avatar. She died fifty years ago.”

“No offence, but who is flying the shuttle?”

She looked worried. It was rather funny, as she could fly away from any crash. “Autopilot. It is circling back along your route to the mine offices. I intend to shut this down today.”

Taking off her EVA suit was a lot easier than putting it on. Boots first, then helmet and finally, she unsealed the baggy thing. She stumbled free and stretched just as the hatch opened to reveal the occupants of the ship.

"Holy mother of stars," Mala whispered it as quietly as she could, but there was no getting around the fact that the male Selna was one of the most attractive things she had ever seen. She shook her head, of course he was. All Selna put out pheromones causing compatible races to want to mate. Mala's mixed bloodline was no exception.

She stayed out of their way and merely nodded to the pilot as she passed. It was easy to determine that she was the controller for the ship. The ports in her wrists gave it away. The pilot looked with a smile between Mala and Isabi. Apparently, Mala should have been writhing on the floor in front of the Selna. That just wasn't her style.

Her repair crew helped her look busy as the occupants made the long walk to the end of the repair bay and they waited until the Selna and pilot were out the door. The instant that the coast was clear, Mala stripped off her gloves and ran her hands over the hull. The minor and major damage caused by the blasts ceased to exist at her touch, the metal joining, sealing and healing under her fingers.

This was why she made the credits that she did. The money was compensation for the perfect repairs that she was capable of. It was her one skill, this repair talent, her freak factor when it came to blending in with other techs.

She moved slowly along the ship, inch by inch, clearing and eradicating all trace of the battle. Whatever had hurt this beautiful ship had been brutal. The damage had been deliberate and designed to turn the ship into a paralyzed meteor, it had worked. The poor baby.

She was murmuring to the ship when she reached the engine damage. "Gergar, I need some metal here." She stroked the superficial damage on the exterior of the housing and waited for the hand to tap her shoulder. She took the metal sheet blindly and held it in place, feeling it melt into the surface of the ship. She could repair anything as long as she had enough materials to patch up the holes.

"I am going to need three more of those if this engine was any indication." She clambered over the ship, keeping her focus on feeling the entirety of the ship at all times. It took her two more hours, but at last she was finished. Dizzy and terribly pleased with herself, Mala sat heavily next to the ship and turned to face her crew. Dismay filled her.

"You know, if I hadn't seen it for myself, I never would have believed it."

The Selna from the ship leaned on one of the pylons and played with one of the chunks of metal she had been using to reconstitute the engines.

"The report was quite insistent that she was capable of it. I am glad to see that it was not exaggerated." The pilot was smiling.

Whatever race she was from was in Mala's own makeup. She could feel kinship with the strange pale creature with its wide eyes and cheerful grin. Her crew was huddled together near the door, mouths gagged and arms and tail confined. "Let them go and tell me what you want."

The beautiful Selna moved close to her and whispered, "We want you."

If a Dhemon walks into your bar, you know you are in trouble, but when he asks for you by name, it's time to run. Agreha Wyld made her way right past the offending Dhemon. He didn't see her, but that was only because Aggie had put on her makeup.

Shifting her features was painful, but if it was only for a few seconds, she was willing to do it. Outside the bar, she let her face go back to normal and stretched her features to relax them. She was halfway down the block, winding her way through crowds and waving at friends in the market, when she noticed that the Dhemon was exiting the bar. His cloak was too heavy for the warm afternoon sun, but he kept it closed as he turned to follow her.

"Aw hells." There was nothing for it. She shifted her legs into a more efficient running configuration and laid on the speed. Moving with the speed of a four-legged animal, she sprinted for safety. She didn't know what the Dhemon wanted, but with the stringent morals of his species, she was sure that she had offended someone somehow. Avoiding him was the best solution.

She wasn't even breathing heavily when she looked back to see no trace of her pursuer, it made it easier for her to slam into the living brick wall in front of her.

He sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest, all patience and hard muscle. "Aggie, what have I told you about running through the market?"

She looked up from her vantage point on the ground. "To not do it? To do it when the market is empty? Sorry, Avatar. I was trying to avoid someone." The Avatar was the personification of the planet Cor. Cor used the body to carry his consciousness around when there were negotiations in the works regarding his planetary resources. The rest of the time, Avatar Lio was free to live a life and even flirt. Now was not one of those times.

It was Cor who spoke. "The Dhemon who was looking for you?"

"How did you know?" She stood up, brushing her skirt off and returning her legs to normal configuration.

"I sent him to you. He has a proposition that I believe will appeal to you."

"Well, I think I lost him so better luck next time." She straightened her halter top and smoothed everything down.

"You didn't lose me. I simply tracked you until you stopped moving."

A pang of sorrow hit Livin. It had been nice to think that she would not be alone as she aged, that there would be a friend nearby. She could see the match as the couple danced, it was obvious that they shared a soul.

She continued in her quiet corner and watched the women circling the newcomer. The sleeper. He was beginning to look frustrated by the attentions and his gaze was darting around until it alighted on her. A slow smile crossed his features and he moved out of the clutch of women to make his way to her.

Councilwoman Ratha intercepted him and he stopped for a moment to speak to her. He jerked his head toward her and when the Councilwoman turned to look, a blush flared over Livin's features. She was not used to being subjected to this kind of scrutiny. Ratha had the nerve to try and hold him back as he continued along his predetermined path. He shook her off and stopped immediately in front of Livin.

He extended his hand for a greeting and she looked at it for a long moment before she took it. "Livin Hael. I…" she was unable to continue as her emergency pager went off. With her right hand engaged, her left fished her pager out of her bodice. The message chilled her. "I am sorry, I have to leave." She tried to free her hand, but he was having none of it.

"You cannot leave, the doors are bolted until midnight. Where do you need to go? I will take you." He flexed his wings and scooped her into his arms without another word. She clutched his neck as he bent his knees and launched skyward from a standing position. Holy hells. She had heard of a standing launch, but most males couldn't manage it. It took tremendous strength.

"I need to get to Cleath forest. There is a wildfire that I need to attend to." She pressed her lips against his ear to speak and closed her eyes at the shudder that went through both of them at the contact.

"We will be there within the hour. Trust me?" His voice was in her ear and she shuddered at the heat that caressed her.

"I don't know you, but I trust you." They were the last words that she spoke in a normal tone as he hurled her upward and let her go.

She was falling, the ground was getting closer and closer and a scream was frozen in her chest. She summoned what air she could to slow her fall, but was terrified that it would not be enough.

I would never let you fall.

She could swear that she heard a voice, but when her body was caught in midair by a taloned fist, she shook with the ramifications. He really was a sleeper. He could shift.

A deep bronze head turned to fix her with one swirling gold eye. I am and I can. I dreamed of you.

She had dreamed of him, too, but thought that it had been residue of her history class. He carefully placed her on his neck and she clutched at him desperately, closing her eyes against the rising wind and hiding herself from the fear that his sentence had engendered in her.

As the doors opened for them, she noted the humanoid standing to one side of the Matriarch's throne. Reva approached and bowed formally. "Matriarch, you sent for me?"

The visitor was an Enjel, his midnight wings flared out behind him, matching the silken hair flowing from his forehead. His eyes were the same bright onyx as the K'ket, but his skin matched hers in chalky appearance.

"Yes, Nanny Reva. This Enjel has come forward to purchase you."

"For what purpose, Matriarch?" The glare she gave the winged man should have given him the hint that she was not up for any fun and games.

"As a breeding partner. He says you have complimentary genetics with his kind and he has been seeking one such as you for some time." The enormous Matriarch clacked her front claws delicately. "I have agreed."

"Pardon, Matriarch?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I thought I had served the Roci family well?"

"You have, Nanny, but it was a very large amount of money." The oversized insect cackled and her stinger came shooting forward to the spot where the Enjel had been standing.

He wasn't there any longer. He was behind Reva, winding his arms around her waist.

"You have received payment, Matriarch. Attempting to kill me was inhospitable."

"You are correct. I was just trying to see if I could keep both my Nanny and the money. She is quite talented, you know. I am sure you will be happy together." Retracting her tail from the floor, the Matriarch settled back on her hot rock. " Be gone, before I change my mind."

"Farewell, Matriarch. Lovely doing business with you." The Enjel bowed formally and bent his legs.

It took all of Reva's self-control not to scream as he launched them into the air and took them out the window. With her talent for giving orders that had to be followed by all within earshot, she carefully did not follow her instinct to yell let me down. With the height at which they were flying, it would have been fatal.

She kept quiet. The rush of air past her face felt surprisingly soft, and at this height, she could not taste the insects that populated this world. It was refreshing. His wings beat steadily, keeping them aloft and transporting them to the spaceport on the far side of the city. A trip that took hours on foot, was accomplished in fifteen minutes.

When her new owner landed in the open-air spaceport, he placed her gently on her feet and took her hand in his own.

"Come with me, Reva. The faster we get off this planet, the safer you will be."

"What? What do you mean?" She didn't dig in her heels, but she wasn't following him with the enthusiasm he apparently wanted, so he swung her into his arms and carried her into the shuttle.

"Strap in and I will tell you. But I do warn you that your orders won't have quite the effect you anticipate, so I would avoid using them until we are off this world." He dropped her in the co-pilot's seat and took his own seat in the specially made chair. It accommodated his wings nicely, but offered back support.

He ran through pre-flight checks in seconds.

Reva could only sit, bemused. This was not what she had experienced the last three times she had been sold. Those eager hands had caused her no end of stress. Her talent had bloomed by then and had kept her from their advances, but they felt a certain amount of uneasiness around her that had sent her back to the block. "Where are we going?"

He finished the checks, got clearance and lifted off before he answered. "We have been summoned to Sadril. They are evacuating due to a problem with their sun, and as members of the Sector Guard, we are going in to help with the evacuation."

That shocked her. She was the slave of the guard? "Sector Guard? You are a Guard?"

"We both are. The minute you crossed that threshold, Reva the slave ceased to exist. You are now a full citizen of the Alliance with the rights and freedoms included. Of course, if you try your position in the guard out and find it not to your liking, you can find employment elsewhere. We are always looking for support staff on Morganti." Most of his speech was said through clenched teeth as he fought the helm for control.

"Would you like some help with that? I am fully checked out on this style of shuttle." The offer came from the part of her that feared he would shake the ship apart.

"If you can help with the attitude, I would be most grateful." His teeth were still tight. He flipped a toggle to activate the co-pilot's controls.

Reva leaned forward to grip the controls as he relaxed. She smoothed their ascent and gently guided them out of the atmosphere. She brought them up and headed them to the slingshot point off the nearest moon, then turned to look at him.

His black eyes sparkled in the starlight. "That was well done, but I knew it would be."

She snorted in disbelief. "How could you have known I could fly?"

"Well, you can tell I can fly just by looking at me." He smiled at her surprised laughter. "Let me set the coordinates for our mission and then we can have some lunch and discuss how we came to be in this shuttle together." He competently entered their destination and set the computer for maximum speed. "Okay. That's taken care of that. Let's have a little talk now."

Effin Nywyn looked up as the sonic boom shook the air. He had been hoping for a quiet time on the planetoid for hunting and meditation. It was just his luck to have company.

He looked up to see the ship wobble badly and head deep into the forest. "Hells."

His oath as a physician kicked in and he hopped on his short-range skimmer. The smoke cloud was mercifully short, meaning that either the ship was out of fuel to burn or it had immolated anyone onboard. Either way, his work would be short. The speed of the crash was bound to have killed the inhabitant, but he had to satisfy his own urge to make sure there were no survivors.

The heavy warmth of the forest engulfed him as he followed the trail of the beacon in the ship. That it was working was good if the odds were twisted and there was indeed a survivor. Someone else would come to claim the body. He needn't worry about burial.

The column of metal had shredded on contact with the ground, peeling open like ripe fruit. He landed his skimmer outside of the debris zone and walked in.

He could feel something in the wreckage, something alive. Sighing, he opened his mind and connected to the living being with a jump of surprise. She was alive and whole, but trapped in some way.

Moving faster than he ever had in his life, Effin crossed through the debris and entered the shadowed expanse of the interior. The flare of a bright mind called to him from a dark corner. When he saw why she was trapped, he laughed in relief. "A gel bed. Just wait, lady. I will have you out of there in a few moments."

She didn't respond, but dark blue eyes stared out of a face framed by rich brown hair. The breathing mask on her face framed full lips and a tilted little nose. She was cute and he recognized her species.

It would have been hard not to recognize a Terran when he saw one. His cousin, Altius, had married one a few years earlier and Thea was a lovely addition to the family.

Her eyes seemed a little dazed, but with the shock of the crash, he would be surprised if she had survived unscathed.

His fingers moved over the switches and toggles, rerouting and overriding the commands until the gel dissolved and its contents were free if moving somewhat sluggishly.

"Come on, Beauty. Time to get away from the wreckage." Lifting her was easy. Her body indicated she would be quite tall, but there was nothing to her. No real muscle mass and barely any curves.

* * * *

A touch on her mind stiffened her spine until she saw the owner of the thoughts that she linked to. A Wyoran. No wonder her mind attached to his so easily. His was trained for this type of thing.

He was dressed like a wild man--leather leggings, black boots, no shirt to cover his auburn skin and his red-black hair fell heavily to his waist in a silky cloud. His eyes were dark amber, slitted and smiling into the tube where she lay. His mouth wide with a grin and his nose flat and vaguely feline with a jaw that made her want to stroke it.

That one instinct froze her in her tracks. She was on an assignment to a new world, not flying around to get her rocks off.

He seemed to know his way around a gel bed though and soon had the goo dissolving back to whence it came. He lifted her in arms that supported her easily and carried her out of the wreck. One thing stuck in her mind as he murmured to her in the skimmer as he piloted them away from the crash. He called her Beauty.

Melinda was determined to open her eyes this time. She struggled to talk. Finally, she managed to squeak out, “If you turn down the lights, things might get better.” Instantly the light went down to a normal level. Melinda opened her eyes and scanned the room again. Sitting up slowly, she knew the only way to face her demons were head on and she felt determined to allow that to happen this time. She sat quietly until the wave of dizziness passed. Must be the sleeping pills. Melinda was startled to realize she remembered her last action before she had gone to sleep. Usually, she was fuzzy before and after the incident, taking up to a week to fully remember the incident.

Walking on unsteady legs, she tried to explore the room. The surfaces of the walls were smooth, very smooth and just like she remembered from seeing it during her previous encounters. It reminded her of metal, except it was pure white. Somehow she knew there was no earthly equivalent. She continued her shaky exploration. There were no true corners in the room, no place to hide anything. Or at least not that she could see. Everything that should be angled had a roundness to it thus making it seem like a continuous piece. Leaning against the wall, she looked at the table she had been on. The table itself wasn’t frightening, but the instruments next to it were. Although many were not unlike what she had seen in hospital operating or delivery rooms, some were strange. The one that intrigued her the most was one reminding her of an octopus. It had a centralized body with many arms. She walked toward the table when she heard the soft hiss of the door. Slowly, she turned to confront whoever or whatever was coming to see her.

“I really never thought you would be this brave, Melinda. The pills were meant to knock you out so we could complete our work.”

Unnaturally smooth walls rose fifty metres to where sunlight filtered in through a stained, but once clear, perma-glaz dome. The chamber appeared to be some three hundred metres in circumference with several openings to the outside. To his left, a broad staircase swept up to a gallery. He checked carefully for signs of Priest or Activist. Finding none, Rhyka started across the floor for the gallery. About halfway across, a harsh booming noise froze him in his tracks.

From the corner of his eye, Rhyka spied a gigantic predator rushing out a tunnel mouth, wings spread, arcing downward, thrusting with long tearing claws. His jaw dropped. Its wingspan must be forty metres from wing tip to wing tip. Cruel cat-yellow eyes, the size of a cartwheel, fastened him with a malevolent stare. Filled with unimaginable terror, he stood rooted to the spot. With a sinking stomach, Rhyka realised that his sword would be no more than a thorn to this brute. The beast must be some sort of Priestly watchdog.

The creature’s head was a metre and a half-long, supporting a bright blue crest. Its neck continuously twisted this way and that. Shades of light brown flecked the upper and under wings. From claw to blue topknot, Rhyka put the creature anywhere from fourteen to sixteen metres in height. Its beak was bone yellow as long as a small canoe and mottled brown beneath the jaw. Loose blue flesh hung about the eye pockets. Narrowly avoiding a snapping beak, Rhyka heaved himself to the right. His shoulder went numb when he hit the hard rock floor. Ears ringing, he got up and staggered through an opening to the outside, away from the beast. Weak and confused, Rhyka was vaguely aware that the creature was pursuing him.

Rapid movement caught his eye. It was the beast. He had to move faster. Startled, he started to slip and slide on the cloud-wet rock. Blind panic set in when before him, floating in and out of fog clouds on silent wings were hundreds of the creatures. He fought to maintain his balance and slow his momentum. Still sliding, he looked down the Spire to a flat outcrop directly below. It was a drop of five metres. Under normal circumstances this would prove an obstacle, but with a bung shoulder and fractured ribs, impossible. A fiery pain lanced through his foot like a sword through flesh as he twisted his ankle. His back arched involuntarily, causing him to over balance. He felt himself free falling through space. Time passed in microseconds. Horrified, he looked back to watch the creature pursuing him. It had launched into the soft-wet clouds.

A wake of air buffeted him further into space. As he fell, he turned over just as an incoming beast skidded to halt on the ledge below him. With a bone-jarring thud, he landed directly between the monster’s shoulder blades. The beast let out a squawk as it lumbered up the ramp with a sorely winded Rhyka clinging to its lightly furred back. Hissing loudly, a snakelike neck permitted that enormous beak to snap at him. As he pulled away, blinding pain surged through him. The monk’s world devolved into a nightmare of pain, rock walls, rippling fur-covered muscles and cries of animal rage, accompanied by dizzy body spins as the creature tried to dislodge him. Rhyka fought to maintain control of his senses and, though giddy and disorientated, he sensed the creature pause.

Expecting to be plucked to the ground, sawed in half and munched into pulp, he instead, found himself confined to a rocky alcove twenty metres across and twenty metres high. Coned light and a moaning wind entered via circular holes high up in the wall. The brute that had taken his fall was stationary. A huge head pivoted to observe the tiny human, who must have been no more annoying than tick. A yellow eye blinked twice, a clear membrane followed by a long grey eyelid shuttered down, then up again. A bone-coloured beak speared at him.

Rhyka’s heart hammered. He opened his mouth to scream.

Greythorn had observed many stealthy killers in years gone by, but the apparition, draped completely in mottled grey and black, with a hood that extended from its shoulders to cover its face, sent shivers down his spine, for as the hood billowed slightly, he glimpsed the face within. Dark green, larger than normal, elliptical eyes set wide apart on a pale skinned face above a thin, sharp nose, along with a pointed, cleft chin below a small mouth with thin lips, and no eyebrows, stared at him.

The figures emerging from the bush were uniformly tall, taller than most humans, and lithely built. Even though they surrounded the three companions and were within a stone's throw, they moved with such stealth that Greythorn had still not detected a single footstep. The stark white hair that fell to the warrior's shoulders, within the hood, brought back disturbing rumours of a race long since believed extinct to Greythorn's mind. He could see pointed ears flicking back and forth, examining every sound before the hunter placed a foot cautiously forward. It seemed that the Elwarri were not a legend after all and it looked as if they were going to be killed by them. The figure before Greythorn, lifted one hand off its bowstring to make several intricate finger gestures. In response, the bulk of the band melted back into the forest, and still Greythorn had not heard a twig snap to betray any movement.

There were five thousand Qooyo words for pain, three thousand for death in darkness, five hundred for being buried alive. Eventually, many miners became addicted to drugs, including Ente. But most of their stories were hard to translate.

I put away my tablet and ate. A woman in a turquoise jumpsuit entered the room. Without warning, she jumped onto the opposite end of the table and twirled and faced the door. Suddenly, the female in turquoise pulled out a knife and crouched.

The door opened. A stout Qooyo miner entered and headed toward the woman in turquoise. At the same time, she lunged at him. Both fell on the floor. Halfway down the table, the chrome woman stood, blocking my view. I got up.

The woman in turquoise swung at the stout miner—her knife missed his arm and she stumbled onto the floor. The dark tan lady moved in front of me. I leaned to the right as her adversary punched the woman in turquoise, striking her face and she crashed to the floor. After reaching down, he dragged her limp body into the passenger compartment.

Why did he punch her?

Someone else in the room might know. I aimed my tablet at the three Qooyo miners and my blank screen appeared. Their firewalls were on, the tablet couldn’t decipher what they were saying. I aimed the tablet at the bearded miner, hoping to find out why the other miner had punched the woman.

Text read. Srn, Kep, rin, meaningless phrases caused by jamming scrolled and faded.

More text enlarged. Dansra, sa, nex... Nonsense. Suddenly, it vanished.

I aimed the tablet at the tall miner. The screen remained blank.

I pointed the tablet at the female with a tiny nose.

Text scrolled. Diin knew, rin, kah. A translation popped up. You don’t have any money either.

I aimed it at the three women and ... white noise, encrypted conversations enlarged.

Then I pointed it at the woman in metallic blue. The screen remained black, blank. Text appeared. It, cah, min, yes, cah min. A translation enlarged. Why didn’t you tell me before? You’re a fool. Then this meaningless conversation dissipated.

A pop up alert slid across the screen. Mode 15, Mode 16, Mode 17. The woman in blue kept switching modes, blocking my attempts to find out why the miner had punched the woman. I put the tablet away and ate.

A voice in the interior com had her concentrating on how to respond. Eventually, she figured out the com system. "Phase, how are you doing?"

In her mechanical voice, she replied. "Feels weird, but I am fairly comfortable. You?"

"I am fine. Just catching bugs in my teeth."

She popped the pilot hatch. "Come inside. I am not using the chair."

"What? Where are you?"

"Everywhere that is part of the mech. Come inside."

His long limbs slid through the hatch and the part of her that felt a surge of lust was squelched as she kept striding through the forest. He certainly was pretty. Perhaps a deep violet for a team colour. That would suit them both, as well as provide a dark colour for concealment before battle.

"You are serious. You really aren't in here."

"I beg to differ. I am everywhere and you are now behind the strongest shields this suit can manage." The steps of the suit became less jarring with every stride. She made the shocks as effective as she could.

"How bad was the suit?"

"It was neglected and it was unarmed. I have corrected that."

He grinned, breaking the Rupture mask that he wore. "How do you do that? We couldn't figure it out at the museum."

"I think it has to do with molecular transfer. The same as my ability to become one with objects."

He leaned back in the pilot's chair and put his feet up on the console. "Explain it to me."

"I really can't. It isn't the sort of thing I could have analyzed. I touch something and feel the intent in the object, the love or care that it needs or wants, then I step into it and give it what it needs to be the best it can be."

"That is fascinating. You can do this with anything?"

"Well. It has to be large enough for me to walk into, but after that, it seems to be fairly open. At the museum, there was a tank I could have used, but it was filled with a dark energy by its previous occupants. It wanted to kill and there were children in the way. I wouldn't use that."

He looked surprised. "They have emotions?"

She thought about it as the mech climbed a hill. "More or less. They are left behind by the owners, operators or the assemblers. Traces of their thoughts and purpose."

"How are you speaking to me?"

"I have altered the com unit. You are hearing thought to voice."

"How does it feel to have me inside you?"

Caught unawares by the fury of the onslaught, the formation broke and scattered, whirling around to try and regroup for another attack. But Holt had no intention of giving them time to finish whatever maneuver they had planned. "Price, magnetize your hull, then lock onto the underside of my ship! We're getting the hell out of here! Now!"

Without a word Price activated the magnetic clamps and rolled the ship to slam the plates together. But not before he fired a full spread of missiles at their attackers. He hadn't bothered to use his particle beams as their power level and range made them less than effective against what he presumed would be full combat armor, but the missiles were powerful enough to do some damage to the ships. And failing that, they did set up enough interference to give them a few more seconds to complete the maneuver.

Price shouted over the Comm, "I'm in place. Controls neutral. You can go at your option!"

Price noted himself falling into old habits as he reverted to the jargon of his days in D-force. He found himself enjoying it despite the situation.

Thanks to the inertial dampeners, Baler, Amnical, Rosin, and Simone sat strapped in while Price performed the last move, nearly oblivious to the twists and turns the ship was going through. Simone, still trying to find more about the infection, was ignoring the buffeting, while Baler watched a sensor screen, searching for the carrier he knew was out there somewhere, with another wave of fighters just waiting for the chance to release them. Why they hadn't yet was beyond him, but he didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

On the bridge of the Nightwolf, Colton walked onto it with Kelen one step behind. The area of the bridge was large enough to accommodate them as well as the normal crew without crowding, but Colton still hung back on the side to stay out of the way.

Holt acknowledged their entrance with a curt nod, before returning his attention to the battle outside.

"Can you see anything else out there? There has to be a carrier some place!"

"If it is, it's laying to outside of sensor range. Either that or they've got some new kind of stealth tech! Either way, I got nothing sir!" the Ensign on sensor monitoring said, afraid he was failing in some way and trying his best to make up for it.

"Price, keep scanning for that thing! I know it's out there somewhere! It has to be! Those things couldn't have made it through Earth space without being challenged."

"We already came to that conclusion," Kelen said, leaning over to almost whisper into Holt's ear. "But there was another reason. They use charged ships rather than any type of reactor. Once they go down, they need..." Kelen had a thought suddenly. "They need to be recharged! That could explain why they haven't sent a second wave yet. They don't have enough recharged yet! It was only a few hours ago that they sent the attack against the plant. That could be your chance Captain. Take these out and we've got a chance."

"You heard him, guys. Take these out and we can live through this!"

A chorus went up of "aye sir" and "yeah" on both the bridge and throughout the ship via an open Comm. The crew of the Nightwolf prided itself on being as tough as need be, and in this, one of the few real chances they'd had to show what they could do, they were not about to turn in anything less than a stellar performance.

Kelen wasn't finished yet though. "I'd say our best bet is to head for the inner sectors. You can use one of your shuttles to make contact once we get close enough to get a real time signal so we won't spread the contamination any further. Then we can..."

"Kelen you might be the best businessman in the universe, but your strategy reeks!" The voice belonged to Baler.

Andra Nickles fired up her engines with a wave at the Guardsman watching her leave Morganti. The babies in Fixer's arms waved back on their momma's behalf. A fresh batch of suits and armour boxes for Udell base were stowed in the hold and she was on her way.

"This is the Guarding Flight, Alliance courier, clearing the Morganti base with a flight path for Udell base. Please confirm."

It was second nature to check in with the ground crew when she left. The tech she was carrying was highly confidential and experimental to the point of dangerous.

"Acknowledged, Andra. Keep it in a straight line this time."

"Yeesh, play chicken in a meteor storm once and I never hear the end of it." She was smiling as she lifted off and went through the pre-jump checks on the way out of Morganti's atmosphere.

Her halo was implanted in her skull and her controls responded to her thoughts. Working on the Sector Guard support staff allowed her to experience and experiment with tech she had never dreamed of back on Earth.

It still struck her as amazing that she had been one of the chosen Volunteers to leave her world and family behind. She had been a courier back on Earth as well. Her shining skill was her inability to get lost. It was so much a part of her that she had never even considered that it could be a talent until the assessors threw her into situations, mazes and even blindfolded her in the trials to prove it to her.

Once out of the atmosphere, she laid on the thrusters while she did final checks on her jump systems. The jump markers loomed and she cubed her position between them. Orientation in three-dimensional space was a skill that came as naturally as her navigational talent.

Andra leaned back in her seat, relaxed her palms on the sensors at the edge of her seat and took a few deep breaths. She opened the gateway in her mind and pictured her destination. She sent a pulse through the jump beacons via her halo and they synched with those near Udell. A sliding wrench and she was in two places at the same time.

The Guarding Flight settled into the Udell beacon space a moment before alarms started blaring and the ship started shaking. "What in hell?"

She was still weak from the jump when air began to hiss out of the seals on the ship. Outer displays showed a brilliant collection of lights and particles writhing around the ship. "Udell base, this is the Guardian Flight, courier Andra. My ship is under attack by a particulate storm and engines are unresponsive. I am in distress. Life support is failing and I have no ability to eject and run."

"Andra, stay put. We are coming to get you." Guardian's voice was calming, but Andra knew that with her seals failing, her life support would soon be useless. She would soon be cold and lifeless in the vastness of space.

"I will wait with bated breath."

"Funny stuff. Do what you can to stay alive."

"Will do." Releasing her restraint harness, she moved as rapidly as she could as her ship lost gravity.

Particulates flowed into her shuttle and danced around in a light and flowing pattern. Andra batted them out of the way as the grips of the emergency breather fought her.

Breathable air was becoming scarce, small particulates made their way into her lungs as she fought to free the breather.

More particles made it into her body. She was faint from the lack of oxygen and ice was starting to pool in her limbs. Her knees gave way and she slumped to the deck with the certainty that death was coming.

The particulates swirled, becoming thick tentacles that lifted her gently before surging into her mouth and nose. There was no pain, only the feeling of being bathed in warmth as the particles danced outside and within. A curiosity and joy that she knew were not her own filled her from the inside out as the world went dark.

Dolphins chased the ship, frolicking in the waves. A few whales came up close, attracted by the magical vibrations the ship was giving to the water. She shook her head and let the wind play with her hair, the blue strands lifting and mimicking the waves.

"Are you thinking of jumping in, Haily?" Her mother came up behind her, sipping at her own drink.

"Of course not, Mom. You know I wasn't allowed swimming lessons."

"There were reasons, Haily. Underwater shockwaves could have killed other swimmers nearby. You know how unpredictable your talent is."

"Yes, Mom. I know." Of course, she knew. It was the binding rule of Haily's existence. She was one step away from being locked up by the ruling councils every single day. It was difficult to live with since she was never allowed to forget it.

Her mother's voice dropped to a whisper. "Thank you for coming, Haily. April, May and June might meet the men for them on this cruise."

"I know. And it's why I am here. This is the time of the year to focus on family, isn't it?"

Morag chuckled and gave her daughter a one-armed hug. "Thank you for understanding."

"I understand, Mom. Better than anyone can guess. All for the family, that is my motto."

Her mother faded back into the social scene and when the sun began to set, Haily returned to the party as dinner began to appear on the buffet.

She sat with her parents and their friends as her sisters took up positions with men of similar ages and power levels. A few brave souls tried to engage her in conversation, but as soon as they asked her if she was seeing anyone, the chill in the air could have frozen them in place.

The party began to roar after dinner when more alcohol and a number of magical beverages came out. Morag winced at the noise when the music kicked off and leaned over, "Haily, can you watch them? Make sure that they get to bed alone?"

She turned to look at her sisters, one blonde and two brunettes. "I will watch them. But if I have to blast their butts into bed, I will."

Eduard shuddered and patted her shoulder. "If you must, you must. Have a nice night, Hail." He pressed a kiss on her forehead and patted her on the shoulder again.

He always called her Hail. It was his way of rubbing it in to her mother that he had been allowed to name their firstborn after the weather on the day she was born. He wanted to name April Sunny, but he had been vetoed and had to be satisfied that he got Hail in. She was the moment of her father's triumph and every time he said her name, she knew it.

She watched them wander off, arms around each other as they returned to their room for some…lord, she did not want to think about it. Parents having sex was creepy at any age.


The party was in full swing and like dozens of magical parties before, some of the morons started showing off with light displays and flashes of power.

Haily's sisters were slow dancing, making out with a young wizard and raiding the dessert bar respectively. They would be safe for a few minutes while she caught some fresh air.

The waves were dark and threatening, but under the dancing lights of the cruise ship, they looked miles away.

"How am I going to plan a life when I can't even be trusted among my own family?"

Her words were answered by a drunken magus inside screaming, "Watch this!"

She turned to look into the party to see what he was referring to and was struck in the chest by a rainbow-hued fireball and thrown into the silent waves.

“I wouldn’t choose anywhere else. If you run into her, ask Pilot about it in more detail. As the first Guardsman, she might have an insight that I lack.”

Tricia made a face at the monitor and laughed outright as the image of a hand with the middle finger extended came up on the screen. “Charming, Aggie.”

“I do try. We are coming up on Morganti. Star Breaker is en route to escort the shuttle in. The staff from the base has already made contact and will be loading you into their shuttle. This is where I wish you good luck. Once your bubble is unhooked, I won’t be able to speak to you.”

“I know. It has been wonderful to have you to talk to though. Those stiffs at the Citadel didn’t even want me to have a book in here.”

“I have passed your appreciation to the captain. I had several packs of cards made for crew members and he parted with his personal set.”

Tricia swept the cards into a pile and tapped them square. “Would he like them back?”

“You know you are under contagion protocols. Anything in that room that isn’t you is up for scorching.”

She grumbled silently. Her talent had been refined and honed by the Citadel to the point where she could simply touch, speak to or be in the same room with someone and they would go from irritated to placid in an instant. Her very voice was considered toxic and even Aggie had to use an audio filter so as not to be touched by her talent.

Talent or curse, Tricia couldn’t make up her mind. She was on the fence as to what the classification for her condition was.

“The Morganti crew is here. Good luck, Tricia.”

“Thanks for the sympathetic ear, Aggie. I hope to see you soon.”

A laugh came through the speakers as the door to the hold opened to display four friendly faced base staff. “See me or hear me?”

“Whatever. It was nice to have another human to talk to.”

“Same here—” Her voice cut off as the staffers disconnected the leads to the walls of Tricia’s bubble.

Thick layers of clear plexi were sealed and without the air coming in through the umbilical, she had less than an hour. It was a good thing that the crew that moved her was efficient.

They trundled her out of the bay in which her bubbled had been installed and into a shuttle bay where a large transport vehicle was waiting.

Something was wrong. There was no Sector Guard logo on the side of the ship. Frantically, Tricia ran to the com and tried to connect, but there was no answer.

Her escort noted her frenzy and moved quickly, their eyes keeping a look out for any members of the ship’s crew. Tricia’s heart sank when a staff member from the Deckar came around the corner and one of her escorts blasted him.

She was being kidnapped and she couldn’t get out of the damned cage!

“Technically, yes,” she said. Collette made a noise to her right. Lierra had nearly forgotten her cousin in her fury to prove herself to a complete stranger. Now she heard the girl shifting from foot to foot. No doubt, nervous at the situation, at the man’s blatant disregard of their status.

“You’ve left something off.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s a but hanging on the end of that statement.”

“Yes,” Lierra stared straight back at him. Behind her, Colley squeaked. “Personally, I prefer his earlier works. The later pieces lack his initial passion.”

“But certainly, you’d admit they exhibit a great deal more skill?”

“Skill, yes, but without the emotion. I saw Woman with Yellow Veil yesterday…”

The man snorted at her, actually snorted.

“You dislike it? I’d say it’s possibly his best work.”

“I certainly hope not,” he said. “It’s sloppy, sentimental and amateurish.”

“Quite easy to say, I imagine, from the sidelines.”

“It’s widely considered,” He stole her earlier words. “That Ecks’ work became progressively more sophisticated as he mastered his medium.”

“Mastery is not a fair trade-off for passion.” Lierra refused to be unnerved, though a shadow of concern blossomed in her thoughts. There was something about this man, something intense that went beyond his fine clothes and long black gloves. “The early paintings had a wild edge, something raw and unchecked—”

“Reckless abandon?” The corner of his mouth twitched into an amused smile.

“Yes, in a way,” Lierra answered. He’s enjoying this, she thought. In truth, so was she. The debate topped Trent’s occasional, Hey babe, what you doodling? by a landslide.

“Sloppiness is no substitute for craft.”

“Craft is good,” she said. “But without the raw emotion it can come across as sterile.” Behind her, Colley let out another squeak.

“Sterile?” His eyes widened. Both of his eyebrows raised in a startled stretch. A warning bell chimed in the back of Lierra’s mind.

He stepped forward and gave the Ecks a good long stare, tucking one of his hands into the front of his coat and tilting his head sharply to the side.

“Interesting perspective,” he said. “Unconventional, but interesting.”

Lierra had no idea if he referred to the painting or her comments, but the chime of alarm escalated. She heard sirens in her head, stared at the glove tucked into his doublet. She darted a helpless glance in Collette’s direction. Her cousin inspected her own feet, demur, unhelpful. Lierra scrambled for something to say, but he spun away from the painting before her brain supplied any answer.

“It has been a pleasure.” He bowed, a stiff, formal gesture that might have soothed her had it happened ten minutes ago. “I look forward to more conversation over dinner, Lady Darvid.”

She stood frozen, knowing from the heat spreading across her cheeks that she blushed and that he noticed. The man knew exactly who she was. Her brain whirled. She managed a rather breathless, “Likewise,” and watched him pass, stride across the room and make his exit. The Gallery doors swung closed in slow motion.

“That was Forrest Ecks, wasn’t it?” She turned to where Collette waited. The girl’s horrified expression answered for her. Forrest Ecks, of course it was.

The shuttle pilot carefully did not touch her as he escorted her out of the small ship.

“Thank you, Nef. Where to next?”

“You are expected in medical. Please follow me.” He didn’t offer to carry her bag, so she knew immediately that the young Azon had met a reader or two before.

Medical was bustling but organized. A physician met her at the door, showed her where to stow her baggage and her clothing, then led her to a series of injections that left her dopey for the insertion into a tank to allow for the remainder of the treatment to take place. It would take weeks for her transformation to conclude and the IV of fluids to deliver their altered genetic payload.

Mayden was well aware of the reason they put her in the tank, not only was she insulated from contact, but they couldn’t hear her screaming as the pain of her organs realigning took her over. The sedatives kept flowing, but she went through a world of blackouts and agony.

Time ceased to have meaning, but the waves of pain finally receded and Mayden became aware of the steady throb of the engines as it matched her heartbeat. The visitors in front of her took on a steady wave. The doctors, medical assistants and a variety of attendants gave way to military personnel and a woman with rainbow hair who used a scanner on her from head to toe.

The woman was wearing a bodysuit with a tool belt attached and had a concerned expression on her face until the doctor spoke to her in depth. The man beside her seemed to be a male Selna, but Mayden had never seen one before.

There was another visitor in the shadows just beyond her range of vision. She could feel him more than see him, but she knew he was there. He came to visit every night when the crew was at the lightest population. A strange sort of music played in her head whenever he was near, but she was peculiarly grateful for the company.

Even when she couldn’t see him, the faint song rang through her mind, lulling her into a relaxed state as she hung in the oxygenated fluid.

Eiwyn threw the covers back. The rustle of the sheets seemed loud in the quiet of the room. Slowly, she placed her feet on the cold wooden floor and slid out of bed. Draven rolled over, his hand resting on her pillow. Heart pounding, she tiptoed her way to the door. Grabbing the knob, she thanked everything holy that she hadn't latched it when she came to bed.

Draven let out a long snore. His hand moved over her empty pillow as though searching for her. Please don't let him wake up. Eiwyn opened the door a little more than a crack and slipped through. If she woke her husband, he would see to it that she went nowhere. She couldn't let him stop her. She knew he would try. He had put his foot down and she was sneaking under it.

Barefoot, she padded her way down to the room they reserved for opening their portals. Two months ago, she'd had a vision, one she couldn't ignore. If what she had seen was true, the future of the entire universe was at stake. Now was the time to act.

Someone, somewhere, played with forces they didn't understand. One couldn't jump from dimension to dimension willy-nilly without consequences. Her people could, but they were the only exception. They didn't need the help of machines, energy or chemicals to open a dimensional rift. They merely needed the power stored within their bodies since birth. Yet, someone had started to do just that and it was ripping holes in the very fabric of the universe. She had to do something and with her sight, she may be the only person who could.

Entering the room, she closed and locked the door. The thick wood wouldn't keep Draven out, but it would slow him down just enough. Waving her arms nervously, she hummed a soft tune and the air rippled in front of her. Soon, the other side of the room blurred as the transparent rift opened before her.

A loud roar had her looking toward the door with tears in her eyes. It would be years before she would see Draven again. Yet, Eiwyn knew what she must do. It was for the good of all. The entire universe depended on her ability to escape her home and jump to the correct world. Eiwyn blew a kiss toward the door. Tears filled her eyes as she heard the pounding of her husband's feet upon the wooden floor. "I'll be back, my love…eventually."

She stepped through the rift confident that the energy would take the path of least resistance directly to the world she needed to visit. One jump, one world, a few decades and with luck, all would soon be put right.