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Angels Have No Wings

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by AE Roud




  Quadrant Chronicles—A menagerie of life’s unpredictable events. You never know what you might find.

  Life throws curve balls into everyday events even in the Oredal Quadrant. How the Oredals deal with those events, might decide an Oredals future.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Angels Have No Wings

  Copyright © 2013 AE Roud

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-495-0

  Cover art by Carmen Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  Angels Have No Wings

  Oredal Quadrant Chronicles Book One

  By

  AE Roud

  Millennia past, the Oredals designated the planet Prin, one of the inner planets, as an agricultural planet because of the vast variety of items that Prin could grow. Where other planets specialized in one or two items, Prin grew on average six to eight varieties, and produced more in a single crop.

  Prin’s largest city, Sharpak, claimed title to being the fastest-growing population center on the planet since the inclusion of the Falory into the Oredal’s central planet system. All over Sharpak, new construction of homes, schools, stores and hospitals, pushed the building boom.

  Several hours before dawn when most people, the exception being farmers, were asleep, an energy wave caressed the planet, creating an aurora borealis. On a small farm five miles outside of Sharpak, a female Falory, heavy with cub, was tending her morning chores, when the flash of lights and crackle of ozone overhead, gained her attention. She stood transfixed and watched the waves of brilliant green, red and blue lights flash overhead. As quick as it came, it ended.

  With the overhead event over, she knelt down to cut the band on a bail of fodder, and felt a sharp pain course through her abdomen. The pain was severe and she grabbed the lower fence rail to keep from falling face first to the muddy ground as the first contraction tormented her body. When the pain receded and her head cleared, she used the fence for support and stood. She knew then, contrary to her pediatric life holder’s belief, her time to give birth was at hand.

  She smiled as she rubbed her swollen body through her skirt. Under her warm hand, the large bulge moved. She stood mesmerized by the feel of the life within her until another sharp pain made her grab the top fence rail to remain on her feet. She focused on a distant barn wall and began to breathe as she learned to do at the local life hold classes to help expectant first time mothers through the experience of birth. When the contraction ended, the female Falory relaxed.

  Her mind filled with memories of the many nights this cub kept her awake as it tossed, turned and kicked. She gave a low growl at the memories of her final months that tripled her urination and made her ill at the sight and smell of certain foods. Her memories included the pain at the loss of her partner. He was killed in a shuttle accident just three weeks before that morning. Another contraction raged through her body, and brought her back to the moment and her need to finish her morning routine.

  With the passage of that contraction, she knelt again and picked up several flakes of fodder, stood, inhaled deep then tossed the flakes into the pen. The two large domesticated Grimai females, each with young of their own, walked over sniffed at the flakes then changed places when the dominate female growled and snapped at the other wanting the other flake. With flakes chosen, the females settled down and began their breakfast feed. Their young settled also each on an inflamed teat to suckle. After checking their water, the female turned and started for the front door of her meager furnished home.

  She reached her front door before another contraction, a much stronger one that almost buckled her knees, began to ravage her body again. She gripped the doorframe for support, focused on a place where the paint was chipped, and breathed as taught in the birth classes. When that contraction passes, she relaxed again and entered her house.

  Inside her home, the stark white of the painted walls reflected her voluminous shape in shadow as she walked through the kitchen area and into the front room where her personal communication unit waited for use. She pressed a button that dialed the preset emergency number at the Sharpak Life Hold. The line popped and sputtered with the sounds of static. She cleared the line and tried again but only heard static.

  Bewildered, she sighed. “It figures, that anomaly earlier must have knocked out the relay station,” she said to the continually brightening room.

  Turning from the console, she walked into her sleeping den. A few minutes later, she returned to the front room with a bundle of clothes in her hand, went to the communications unit and tried the emergency number again. She only heard more pops and clicks of static.

  She placed her hand on her extended belly as she looked out at the Grimai pens. “Cub, I have only one option left, and I hope I make it, or you will be born on the road to Sharpak.”

  She tried the emergency number one last time with the same results. She cleared the console, and with a determined look on her face, began what she knew would be the longest walk into town she ever made. On a normal day her pace got her to town in an hour and a half. For this day she felt it would be at least twice that, probably more.

  As the morning’s summer sun warmed the rich soil, not long into her walk, the onset of another contraction made her turn for the side of the lonely dirt road. A huge, rough gray boulder became the point of her focus as the contraction ripped through her body. It passed, her body relaxed and her mind cleared. It was then she remembered the conversation with her pediatric life holder at her last checkup three days before.

  “I see no problems with you or your cub. Everything is going as it should. I believe you will go over your due date a few days as the cub is not yet turned into the proper birthing position.”

  At that appointment the final prognosis was the cub would not come into the universe until the next week. Yet, Mother Nature conceived other ideas and now she stood on the side of a dirt road, focused on a boulder the size of her house, to get through a contraction. When it ended, she relaxed against the boulder and was not prepared for the sudden onset of the next one.

  Severe pain seared through her body and she screamed as the pain increased. The inside of her legs were suddenly wet. With palms pressed solidly against the boulder, she tried to breathe through the contraction and failed. With her jaws clenched and her eyes closed, she slowly sank to her knees on the hard, rocky ground. Her sweat fell to the dusty dirt road and sent up a mini cloud of dust. The blood pounded in her ears and she gasped when she felt her cub move further into the birth canal. When that contraction passed, she got to her feet turned and leaned against the huge boulder and knew then she would not make it to town to birth her cub in the safety of the Sharpak Life Hold. The next contraction, she felt the cub move a lot, the pain in her abdomen increased many fold.

  “St
op!” she held on as the contraction played havoc with her body. After it passed, she hiked up the front of her long skirt and made a personal exploration of her body that told her she was much closer to giving birth than she thought. “Just my luck.” She wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her skirt and looked around for a suitable place to bear her cub as her ancient quadruped ancestors did, in the wild.

  On the side of the road where she stood, was the hard, rocky ground of a black volcanic wasteland turning to grassland. Wild flowers poked up and around the black chunky rocks. Although a beautiful mix of blue, white, yellow and red flowers on green and yellow stalks of all shapes and sizes, the area was not at all inviting for her need. Looking to the other side, a short distance from the road she saw the lush coolness of a small forest and toward that, she began to walk.

  As she entered the dense overgrowth the darkening light enveloped her. The thick canopy above blocked most of the sunlight. The smell of rotten wood and unseen life assailed her senses. She snorted to clear her sensitive nose as she struggled around and through the low heavy underbrush that snagged her skirt and further hampered her walk.

  She looked at the dead trees around her, spotted a fallen tree, held aloft by another under it. Dropping to her knees between the two fallen trees, she found the ground there was soft enough for her to dig a hole large enough that she could remain on her knees and birth her cub. She broke the soil apart and dug out a shallow pit. Into this shallow hole, she dragged leaves and supple branches to give support, then grass and more leaves and on top, some of the extra clothing she’d brought from home. With the hole dug and prepared, she removed her long skirt and eased herself down to her knees and waited for nature to take its course.

  As the sunshine of the summer day shone down in patches through the canopy of the small forest, a female cub, with tan fur and evenly spaced black stripes, was born. The cub’s sudden cries sent birds in a nearby tree to flight.

  With the birth process over and behind her, the new mother turned her full attention to her cub. She wiped as much of the birth matter off the cub and checked the small creature over, counted and kissed each finger, toe, ears and eyes, inhaling of the cub’s scent to imprint, then wrapped the cub in some of the extra clothing, then set the cub to her breast for the all important, first milk. As her cub suckled, mom relaxed against the log and covered them both up with her long, wide skirt.

  Movement to her left, put her on alert. If needed, she could bring her claws to action. She relaxed after a moment as she watched a black and white rabbit, hop within touching distance. The rabbit munched on grass completely unaware of the predator hidden in the shallow hole, so close the two could almost touch.

  The tigress remained very still. Her stripe markings blended in with the movement of the shadows from the trees overhead.

  When the rabbit did look up, their gazes met and the air between them froze in the moment. Senses locked. The tigress could almost hear the rabbit’s heartbeat increase. A flash of fear crossed the rabbit’s eyes. The cub’s sudden mews broke the sacred moment. As the tigress turned her attention to her cub, the rabbit sprinted off with a zigzag motion into tall green and yellow grass opposite the birth lair.

  With the cub set again to nursing, the tigress relaxed. Her acute hearing pinpointed the rabbit across the way as it moved through the tall grass toward safety. The little creature just learned a valuable lesson and if used again, the small animal would live to see more days.

  The tigress yawned, showing her long canines in the sparse sunlight. Looking up through the canopy, she let her thoughts drift to a time not long ago when her mate lived and the joy they shared in the short time they were together.

  Falory, although not a monogamous species, were a matriarchal society. Females chose the males they wanted to have cubs with and live in their compound. Most males chose to move in as a tigress with cubs was never without food. Once in a compound, a male gained access to more breeding females. Accepting a female’s offer was most advantageous for a male that no longer wanted the title of rogue.

  The male she picked as her permanent mate was the best of the available males she’d seen on Prin. His black stripes were clean and equally spaced and that was an unusual quality among her species. After a brief courtship, she decided it was time to make her request.

  He accepted her request and within hours moved to a small house adjacent to the main house where she and any cubs would live until they were grown and on their own. They began their future together, and the proof of their commitment was in the cub she conceived.

  As her new cub slept on her chest, the tigress took a catnap herself, resting but not asleep. Her ears twitched and turned to sounds as her nose worked on the scents that came to her on the air. When the cub fussed again, before opening her eyes, she inhaled deep of the air around her for any scent of danger.

  With no danger on the air, she opened her eyes and pushed the veil of her nap farther from her mind and body. It was then the shadows caught her attention and she was surprised at the time of the day. On a planet such as Prin with wild areas between inhabited areas, animals capable of killing a Falory roamed. Being out at night was okay during a hunt, but in a forest on the ground, or even on the road after dark was not a place she wanted to be with a newborn cub and a very sore body.

  The nocturnal wild Grimai were a creation of the Oredals for food, created through the genetic combination from several different species. The wild animals were nothing close to the smaller, less aggressive, domesticated Grimai on the many farms that dotted the surface of the planet Prin.

  Holding her cub close to her body, she turned so that she was on her knees facing the fallen tree trunk and began to stand up. When she was almost to a standing position, a lightning bolt of pain scored her body and dropped her back to her knees. She closed her eyes to the swirl of movement that enveloped her mind. Several moments passed before her head calmed and the ill feeling subsided.

  She opened her eyes and focused on a distant tree, before trying to stand up again. On this attempt, she was able to stand, and waited to see how her body would react as she held onto a tree.

  She felt a warm liquid running down her legs. Looking down, she knew something was very wrong by the amount of blood pooling around her feet. Her stomach churned and she fought off a sudden wave of dizzy nausea.

  Placing her cub in a dent on the fallen tree, deep enough to keep her from tumbling to the ground if she should fuss, the tigress examined herself. From the amount of blood on her fingers and the color, she knew it was arterial blood.

  Picking up a piece of clothing, she ripped it into several strips, rolled several of them tight and used them to staunch the flow of blood. Satisfied she’d done her best, she quickly dressed and retrieved her cub, then with careful steps, walked back to the road. Once out on the open road, she calmed when she knew it was not as late in the day as she previously thought. She turned toward Sharpak and began walking to get help for herself and have her cub examined.

  When she reached the outskirts of the town, she was very weak from blood loss. Stepping around the corner of a building, she looked down the street hoping help was near. There was no one in sight.

  The tigress leaned against a sandstone brick building and looked at her beautiful, healthy cub. She smiled weakly as a tear slipped down her cheek and dripped to the forehead of her cub. “I’m not going to get the chance to give you a name. I’m not going to make it,” she said as her knees began to buckle.

  Sinking slowly to a sitting position against the building, she felt a hard, painful spasm that made her inhale and grit her teeth. Her body froze in the moment. When the female’s body relaxed and she gave her last exhale, her arm fell to her side. The bundle she held rolled away into the shadowy darkness of an alleyway.

  Not long after the event of death, another Falory female, dressed in a business suit, came around the corner and almost tripped over the dead body sitting in a large pool of blood. Shocked at
the sight, the female backed away, then came to her senses and rushed inside the nearest business to call for help.

  At the entrance of an excited female into his print shop asking to use the communications unit for an emergency, the shop owner went outside to see for himself what the trouble was about and found the female sitting against the front of his shop. He knelt beside the body, checked for a pulse and shook his head. He looked down the street as the sound of the sirens came to him on the wind.

  Looking at the entrance of the alleyway next to his business, he saw all types of trash and litter blowing around in the afternoon wind. Opening the door to his small shop, he called to one known as W’pard, who appeared at the doorway wearing jeans, a T-shirt and holding a broom. The owner pointed toward the alley. “Please pick up that trash,” he told the tall youth.

  W’pard hurried to carry out his instructions with an occasional glance toward the front of the building. He scooped up several items at once in both hands and tossed them in a nearby dumpster. Not seeing any more trash present, he hurried back to the front of the building to watch the sad but exciting events.

  From doorways all around the area, Falory came outside to see what was going on when the emergency vehicle pulled up in front of the print shop.

  The attendants rolled the body from side to side to see if there were any visible external wounds.

  “No external reason for all this blood,” one of the attendants said. “This much blood, means internal injuries.”

  The technicians loaded the female into the vehicle to return to the Sharpak Life Hold. There, a medical team would find out the reason for her death. With the back doors closed, the emergency vehicle pulled away.

  With the unusual excitement over, the Falory business owner shooed away the onlookers and instructed his helper how to clean up the pooled blood on the sidewalk. Once that task was finished, the business owner looked around the front of his business and the alleyway. “That’s much better,” he said giving W’pard a friendly slap on the back.

 

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