by Mari Collier
“The Justines fear the sexuality of the Thalians, so they used eight Kreppies as her guards and their eldest Justine to oversee Mither at a compound on a far asteroid. In their wisdom they felt this would contain Mither.” A low chuckle came for the huge throat. “It did nay.”
“In his loneliness, the Justine began to show Mither the workings of the Golden One on the Justine premise that an inferior race could nay learn to pilot it. Whilst he taught her, he twas nigh her. The Justines's fear of our sexual abilities tis correct. Eld as he twas, the Justine found himself in bed with Mither. Somehow she convinced him how much better it would be if he twere young once more. He took the draught that all Justines take to repair the ravages of age.” MacDonald looked at Lorenz and smiled. “If I am nay wrong, tis something that ye and I shall be able to do, but I digress.”
“The Justine was indeed young again, but since he twas pass the age of safe rejuvenation, it weakened him physically and mentally. Whilst on the Golden One, away from the prying eyes of the Kreppies, Mither bedded him. When he collapsed on her in his completion, she snapped his neck.”
“She killed him?” Lorenz was awed.
“Oh, aye, that she did. She then started the Golden One and destroyed the asteroid and all that twas on it. Her plan twas simple; practice until she had total control over the craft, and then destroy the last of the Justines. Twas whilst she learned to maneuver the Golden One that it became apparent that she twas pregnant.”
“To shorten, this tale, I twill condense the rest. She managed to continue learning and to birth me. She also evaded the Kreppie ships around Thalia and left me and a crystal with a trusted friend. 'Tell my brither to use his head when ye give him my wee one,' were her instructions. She then flew the Golden One into the Justine home world, destroying all that dwelt there and herself, as there twas nay a second craft as in last night's tale.”
“For awhile this eased the restrictions on our world and that of our allies, the Brendons, and gave Mither's friend the opportunity to give me and the crystal to my elder and his counselor. My elder did use his head. He claimed I twas child of one our relatives reduced to poverty due to the occupation. Twas our misfortune that the Justines were able to regroup by calling in all the Justines from the other planets they administered and occupied a large asteroid that had served as a gathering place for the Justine League to meet with the other worlds without the inferior beings coming to their now gone world. Their rule over Thalia and Brendon grew harsher as they employed the Kreppies as their enforcers of Justine dictums. They deemed this necessary after a Justine died in the mines of Thalia's Ayran.”
“My elder, Lamar and his counselor Beatrice, Lass of Betron, provided a safe haven of love and learning. When I reached the age of twenty I did nay have my full height, but I twas nearing the age for the first bedding. This could nay be arranged without revealing my heritage. Like the young here, I twas ready to rebel against authority and did so by challenging for a bedding in the arena.” A swift smile came over his face. “I challenged the daughter of the Guardian of the Realm and won.”
“Y'all fought a woman?”
“Aye, that tis our way, however, the Justines had instituted the rule of the Sisterhood which tis meant to castrate the males of Thalia. They truly fear us. Beauty, the lass I fought insisted I be scanned for drugs. They discovered my two hearts. I did nay even get to bed her.” Bitterness laced through his voice. “And they sent me to the new Justine world to remain under their keep. I twas nay allowed to mingle with Thalians again, nay have I seen my elder since.” Granite lines etched his face as his voice hardened.
“How did y'all get away?”
“When I neared fifty-five, Ricca kenned that I too could walk in minds and communicate without speaking. The Justines nay believe this possible in a mutant. That tis what they call someone born of two different species, and twill call ye the same.”
“To give them credit, they had continued my education and Ricca taught me to use my mind correctly, or I might have killed their Kreppie attendants. Thalians reach their maturity between thirty and thirty-five, although we continue to build muscle mass until we are about one hundred or more.”
Lorenz's face was a study of disbelief and yet, he knew this was a true telling, but he couldn't imagine anyone larger than the man standing beside him.
“There had nay been a birthing in the Justine remnants since they lost their planet. They decided that they needed another, younger Justine. They launched a search party for Toma, yere biological fither. The searchers consisted of one adult Justine, six Kreppies, and they included me. Instinct told me this twas but a ploy to remove me to some far planet where I would nay be a testament to how wrong their biological science tis. Since I should nay exist, there nay ere could be a child from my beddings. They twere so certain of their own scientific beliefs that they did nay even test my seed. Ere we wed, I had told yere mither, there would be nay wee ones.” The thought of Mina brought a smile to his face.
“They just left y'all here?”
“Nay. When this planet appeared on the viewers, Ricca, the Justine, did a search for an area that may possess people of like physical appearance. Scotland and Ireland have more red-heads than elsewhere so Ricca took me as a servant and left the Golden One behind the dark of the moon.”
“The Justine was my sole teacher on the journey, but it came in spurts. I twas about sixty-four years of age when we first went to Ireland. It twas in the year of 1842 for this planet's reckoning and there twas a great hunger in the land. Ricca foolishly went into the countryside, taking me along. A mob bent on securing food came at us. He and I had discovered our minds could nay penetrate into the minds of some of this land's people. He could nay control the mob. Ricca stood there as a superior being, pointing his finger at the oncoming men, sending out his mental command to halt. They killed him.”
“What did y'all do?
MacDonald glanced down, a look of mild surprise on his face at the question. “I lifted my heels and ran. Do I look like a fool?”
Lorenz forgot that he was several feet underground, standing by a machine that couldn't exist, listening to a life story beyond belief, and smiled, his grey eyes sparkling.
“No, sir, y'all don't.”
MacDonald smiled at Lorenz. “Tis now time to enter the craft. Have ye figured out how we twill do that?”
Lorenz shook his head, a head that was swimming with a tale more bizarre than any he could ever imagine, but there was one thing he had to know. “How many people died?”
“When? Where?”
“When your maw-mother blew up the other place.”
“Oh, there twas about one million Justines living there. As I said, they are an eld race, and their births few.” He smiled with a certain satisfaction. “Do ye have any more questions ere we go into the craft?”
Lorenz shook his head no. He did have more questions, like how did MacDonald get this machine and get rid of the Kreppies, but wasn't sure how to ask. At least his breathing was steady and he hadn't panicked.
“This tis how we open it,” and MacDonald laid his hand on the side of the golden metal. What appeared to be seamless now rolled back. A huge bay area opened as a wide ramp settled to the ground.
“Can I do that?”
“Nay, it does nay ken ye, but we twill change that in time.” He led the way up the ramp. Once they were inside, he leaned over and touched a panel. The entire area lighted and the ramp rolled up and the panel slid shut. Lorenz whirled and faced where the opening had been, panic clawing at his throat and guts. He swallowed it down, forcing his breathing to remain even. Behind him the big man chuckled.
“Now we are safe even though someone should discover the cave opening.”
MacDonald pointed to two smaller golden crafts and another piece of machinery that Lorenz could figure no earthly use for, but it was imposing in its height and girth. “There are the machines I used to create this haven. The smallest one can be used to take us out the o
pening of the cave and up into the atmosphere. There ye may look down on this earth. Neither of them, however have enough power to carry us back to my world. For that we would need this one, but I canna navigate the stars.”
Wonderment filled Lorenz's eyesasas he looked at him. “Y'all would take me up sometime, to see what it's like?”
MacDonald's smile widened. “Oh, aye, that I twill.” He led the way toward one of the walls. “We twill take the lift up to the captain's center, and I twill show ye a bit more of the craft, let ye listen to the history of my universe, and then I twill take a decent cleansing.”
Lorenz followed in silence. At least he hadn't threatened to make him bath again. His curiosity and sense of wonder increased at every step. The place was cool with air coming from somewhere, and the golden walls and light blue walkways seemed to glow. He sensed no danger, but this place was unlike anything that he had words to describe. “It's big,” was totally inadequate. The panic increased when the small room they entered slid a door shut behind them. He felt trapped. Was this some sort of cage? MacDonald was not concerned. He pushed a panel that Lorenz had missed seeing, and an almost inaudible hum filled his brain.
“We are going up to the top floor. This craft tis as high as a three or four story home. The lower tis for storage, the middle contains the medical and horticulture areas, the latter means vegetation for cleansing the air we are breathing, and the mechanical means of supplying the air, food, and energy to sustain the craft and life. The upper floor tis for the guidance system of the craft and contains the quarters for the crew.” MacDonald touched one finger to the panel again, and the door slid open.
“How does it do that?”
“Tis run by an energy current. Yere world tis just now beginning to learn its ways, and the energy tis called electricity.” MacDonald was moving with ease, a powerful body moving around the strange craft with complete confidence in his abilities. He swept his arm outward, pointing directly in front of where they entered. “There, at the front, ye can see what tis their type of desk and chair. That tis the commander's chair, and tis where ye can look outward and see all about. The screens set as 'windows' show information on your surroundings and yere capabilities. Ye can set course to where ye go and issue commands to take out any obstacle, if ye ken the math.”
Lorenz decided to say nothing. It was smarter just to listen and try to learn.
MacDonald looked down at him. “We'll visit the quarters now, and ye can listen to the crystals telling of the different beings whilst I shower. Ye can save the questions for when I finish.”
They walked down a corridor and past a large open area filled with black and gold pulsing walls, tables, what were probably chairs, and huge covered daybeds with backs. The sitting furniture seemed to be covered with some sort of unrecognizable fabric. It looked soft, not like the harsh horsehair sofa in Rity's house or the stiff brocade stuff he'd seen in Red's whorehouse. He shook his head as MacDonald pressed his hand against an outline of a door and it slid open. It was hard to believe what he was seeing, and he wondered how his mother had handled it.
This room was smaller, and contained furniture much like he had seen, except there was far less of it. It looked like there was some sort of small room to the right, and as the door slid back in place he could see a ledge with one of those fancy chairs covered with lighter, blue fabric shoved underneath the ledge. The floors were a golden shimmering color like the machine. MacDonald steered him to the chair.
“Ye could have listened to this at the command station, but tis quite comfortable here, and I can take my cleansing.” He pulled out the chair and flipped up part of the ledge. Something that looked like a dirty mirror was in front of his eyes and below some sort of slanted board with buttons and symbols inscribed on the buttons. MacDonald poked away at the symbols and the dirty mirror blackened. Lorenz jumped when he heard someone talking, but could not place the language nor where the speaker was located. It was as though the person doing the talking was in front of him, but no one was there.
“Steady, laddie, that tis but the beginning of the history ye are about to learn. The voice tis part of it. All has been prerecorded. I ken that this does nay make sense yet, but it twill.”
The dirty mirror changed, and now there was a man's torso and face speaking that strange language. MacDonald punched at the button symbols and suddenly the voice was using MacDonald's inflections of speech. MacDonald held down a button and the screen stood still and the voice stopped. “We need to have the speech in yere language. Tell the screen 'this tis our alphabet' and then recite it just as ye have done at home. The words twill be in yere language, and ye twill be able to ken what tis being said.”
Lorenz looked at him and shook his head. MacDonald smiled and gently pushed him into the chair. “Go ahead. Ye ken the letters, and dinna use the slurred language ye so oft do. Ye speak better than that.”
It was darn hard to fool him. He might as well do as told and hear what this thing was going to say, and Lorenz obeyed. It was like the mirror started over as it changed to black and the man reappeared. It was then that Lorenz noticed the man's eyes were copper colored with golden circles around the pupils.
He looked up at MacDonald and asked, “Is that my pa?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, just wondered.”
“Tis nay yere fither, but tis a Justine. They do tend to resemble each other. I twill listen with ye, and then ye may watch it again while I take that cleansing.”
MacDonald removed his finger and the seated red-haired man, dressed in some sort of long, flowing material, started speaking in English. “Welcome. Since you are being allowed to hear this, our advance party has deemed you worthy of contact. This is a brief synopsis of our universe and the beings that dwell here.”
“We are the Justines, a family of bipeds who have attained the highest evolved level in our quadrant. While we are able to vocalize with lesser beings, our own communications, when we reach a certain maturity, are mental. We learn speech to communicate with other beings and not frighten them.”
“Physical work is no longer necessary as our science and technology sustains us. Therefore, we devote our time to meditation, study, and striving to benefit those who have not yet attained our level. The following will introduce you to the known beings in our galaxy.”
“The first beings we will discuss are the Krepyons, who are our allies and administrators throughout our system.” The screen showed a slight male creature with light, brown skin, brownish hair, brown eyes, and it looked like scales on both cheeks. “This is the male of the species. They usually devote their time to business, the mundane activities of living, or the military. They average about five feet six inches in height, and weigh about one hundred and thirty pounds to one hundred and seventy.
“The next is the female. Please note the double row of mammary glands.” Lorenz's mouth had opened in a wide O and his grey eyes grew wide. The female, like the male, was nude except for bindings around the lower genital area, and looked much like the male with longer hair. “The Krepyons are the only biped beings with double mammary glands out of the four known groups. The females are noticeably shorter and lighter than the Krepyon males. They usually give birth to four at a time. We have been working with the Krepyons to limit the females to one birth. Their population at this time is unacceptable for their available living space. We have been moderately successful and have not had to implement harsher methods.”
“While they are not capable of communicating with their minds, they are very susceptible to ours. We are hopeful that within the next one thousand years this trait will evolve into a viable ability to communicate mentally with us.
“The next beings are the Brendons. They are the best horticulturalists in the galaxy. Their entire planet, except for the Polar Regions, the areas dedicated to housing, and the necessary manufacturing sites, has been cultivated into one huge garden. Some of their advances with growing plant life aboard interstellar fligh
ts have been implemented in our space ships. Their vegetation and ours are not always compatible.”
A stockier male figure filled the screen, his hair a dark, greenish color, and he wore no clothing. “Like the plant life they cultivate, the hair of the Brendons will turn to a red or an orange hue as they advance into old age. They have a medium height of five feet, seven to nine inches. Their women are usually an inch or two shorter. Both genders usually weigh about one hundred and fifty pounds.”
Lorenz blinked his eyes at the woman on the screen. Some sort of cloth covered the breast area, but the breasts were not sagging and he felt himself growing hard. It seemed hair color wasn't going to make much difference in attraction. He was afraid to look at the man standing next to him, and his tongue remained still.
“When we first made contact with the Brendons, we hoped they would be able to communicate on a higher level. These are a gentler community of beings, more interested in science than warfare. They are able to communicate on a certain level with their plant life, yet they cannot mindspeak. Once again, perhaps a cultural maturing will lead them into emulating us. Unfortunately, during the last century, the Brendons allied themselves with the Thalians and rejected our teachings. They are currently under our benevolent care supervised by the Krepyons.”
MacDonald could keep silent no longer. “Their arrogance is beyond belief.”
On the screen, there now appeared a jock-strapped man of immense muscular proportions. His black hair was cropped close and he turned his hairless body while clenching his fists and looking upward at a group of cheering people, a wide smile slitting his craggy face below a jutting nose. Blood trickled downward from the nose, past the smiling lips, and onto the chest. “This is a representation of a Thalian male. He has just won a fight in their so-called dining arena in front of the Guardians of the Realm, the ruling elite of Thalia. Thalians revel in the strength of both men and women. The males reach a medium height of six feet, two inches, and the women are but a scant inch shorter, if that. Their weight, depending on their height and status in the hierarchy, will vary from two hundred pounds to over three hundred.”