by T. R. Harris
“His ship is too fast—”
“But it’s not faster than a CW link, Carter. All we have to do is let every scoundrel, crook, pirate and anyone else willing to help, to get in his way and prevent him from getting her to the Temple within the next eight days.”
“And why would they do that, Major?”
McCarthy held up the bag of purple credits. “For thirty-million credits, that’s why.”
Carter’s big dark eyes grew wide looking at the bag McCarthy now displayed. Then the smile appeared – the first smile Nigel had seen in over fifteen years. McCarthy continued.
“We broadcast the news of the reward out in the open, offering it to anyone who can kill Adam Cain and the Formilian. Even law-abiding citizens would want a piece of that action. And the ironic thing about it the Formilians have paid the money that will be used to kill their own demi-god.”
“There’s not a lot of time to organize this, Major. It will take time for the ships to head out.”
“All we need to do is flood the area of space between here and Formil. There will be ships already in space or on the planets that are on the way. If we get enough ships out there, then Cain will be forced to change course, taking him longer to get to Formil. By then, there could be thousands of ships hunting him. And they won’t even have to kill him just prevent him from getting to Formil on time.”
“You know Cain, he may still get through.”
“I know, but this is the best chance we have to get this war started. And the beautiful thing about it, we just have to sit back and let others do all the work for us!”
“I like it, sir,” Carter said, flashing that most-rare of smiles for the second time. “But what about the Kracori, it’s obvious they mean business this time? They found us once, they can find us again. Shouldn’t you let everyone know where their planet’s located?”
“I don’t want to do that right now. We’ll head out now back to Highland. The Kracori will have a hell of a time finding us there. Besides, I want to save that bit of information for when I really need it. I don’t want to waste my best trump card simply because I’m pissed.”
“As you wish.”
“Good! Let’s get back to the ship and get off this fucking planet. We have a lot of calls to make.”
Chapter 12
It wasn’t until fourteen hours later that Adam saw Arieel again. She had locked herself in one of the Phoenix’ four staterooms and refused to come out. Adam had let her be, just thankful that she had not claimed his stateroom to lock herself in. That was his stateroom, not hers, and he was sure he would have had a hell of a time getting her out.
Adam was sitting in the central mess hall of the Phoenix, drinking a coffee and reading a letter he’d written in a hand-held datapad. It wasn’t really a letter, but a collection of thoughts he had gathered about Sherri and him, an exercise aimed at helping him put his feelings, goals and concerns into perspective, so he could better express himself if she was still around when he got back to Pyrum. It was cathartic, and a small diversion from the other, more elaborate plan that was mulling around in his mind.
Suddenly, the beverage and food processing units began to hum, and a tray of food and drink slid out of the dispenser. Adam looked around, startled by the activity, but saw no one else in the room.
Arieel then walked in and straight up to the counter. It only took Adam a moment to realize what she had done – this was probably child’s play for someone like her. Nonetheless, it was impressive.
But what really took Adam’s breath away was how Arieel was dressed – or not dressed was a better term. She did have on some clothes – a man’s shirt she had found in the stateroom – and that was all. But even a man-sized shirt couldn’t contain the heaving breasts that fought to escape the fabric, nor hide the other virtues of her sumptuous body. Four over-burdened buttons struggled to keep the front of the shirt from flying open, while still revealing her more-than ample cleavage and a fully-exposed lower region below her bellybutton.
Kroekus had been right: Human and Formilian anatomy was very similar, at least for the parts Adam could see, which didn’t leave much lacking.
He must have been gawking, because Arieel stopped in front of him, holding her tray of food and drink a little lower, but still not low enough.
“Respect, Human,” she said. “Have you not seen a female before?”
Adam snapped his jaw shut and sat up a little straighter, now looking straight in her eyes. “Eh, sorry about that, but you’re not wearing a lot of clothing.”
“I cannot help that, there was very little to select from in the cabin.”
“Couldn’t you have found something a little bigger?”
“Are you saying I am too fat for this garment? How dare you! I am The Speaker of the Order of Light. I am not fat!”
Adam had to smile. Damn, it’s the same everywhere, isn’t it?
“That’s not what I’m saying. There is nothing wrong with your – well – anything. It’s not your fault the shirt can’t cover all your female parts.”
Arieel stood up a little straighter, which caused the upper-most of the four buttons to pop loose. Already Adam was having a hell of a time maintaining eye contact with the dark-haired alien. This didn’t help any.
“Then I shall take that as a compliment, Adam Cain.” She sat down at his table and proceeded to look him up and down. Once done, she picked up her drank and took a sip, looking over the rim of the glass at him with the largest, darkest eyes he’d ever seen.
“You are an alien, Adam Cain, yet you are a Human-alien. I have heard stories of your races’ strength and physical prowess, even though I do not see how these stories could be true in light of your small muscles and short stature. However, I chose to mingle with you, since we have nothing much else to do during the journey back to Formil.”
“Excuse me,” Adam stammered. “You what?”
“I will mingle with you – engage in sex. I feel my body is sufficiently recovered for such activities. However, I must warn you, that considering your slight build, it could be dangerous for you. If ever you feel you cannot continue, let me know and I will allow you pause, but only momentarily.”
“Let’s just back up a minute,” Adam said, pushing his chair away from the table and further from Arieel. “I read somewhere that Speakers only mate once in their lifetimes, when you’re thirty-five years old. I take it you’re nowhere near that.”
Again, Arieel seemed insulted. “Of course not! I am merely twenty standard years of age. Can’t you tell?”
Adam let his jaw fall open without saying a word.
“And I said nothing about mating! I speak of sex. Does your race only mate for procreation, or do you engage for pleasure as well?”
“But I thought…. I thought. Hell, I don’t know shit.”
“Adam Cain, Formilians are very physical and sensual beings, and just because I am their Speaker does not mean I do not partake. Yes, I will mate with the High Celebrant at the appropriate time, but until then, I mingle regularly with those I select.”
“The High Celebrant – that’s who you mate with?”
“Of course, he and his bloodline are just as pure and strong as my own.”
“You will mate with Convor?”
It was now Arieel’s turn for her mouth to fall open. She sat stunned for a moment before answering. “Of course not you vile beast! Convor is my father. There will be another, possibly from the Seconds within the Order. But that time is far off.” She shook her head again. “Convor … how could you even...?”
“Sorry, Arieel,” Adam said quickly. “I guess I didn’t have enough time to do all my research. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Yet you do have an inordinate talent for doing so.”
“And about us … mingling; I have a girlfriend, sort of.”
“I would expect nothing less. But why is this mentioned?”
“Oh, crap,” Adam said, now staring up at the ceiling. When he looked bac
k at Arieel she was sitting across the table, staring at him with a quizzical look in her huge, warm eyes. It was all Adam could do to speak the next words.
“I’m really flattered, Arieel—“
“Why?”
“Never mind; just let me say I would like nothing more than to hop in the sack with someone like you. It would be … well, damn! But that’s just not going to happen. I have someone else I care for and we don’t go around cheating on each other, not normally. And besides, the two of us are going through a rough patch right now and I just don’t think it would be fair to her.”
“While in the cabin I did some research into Humans,” Arieel said, “and I have seen Human females. They are a less dramatic version of me. I do not see why you would prefer them to me?”
Adam took an unabashed scan of Arieel’s luscious form; this time she sat there, welcoming it. It seemed to have become a contest now, a challenge for the dark-haired alien.
What am I doing? Sherri isn’t really my girlfriend in fact she may not even be there when I get back. How can I pass this up?
“There is no depth to this action, Adam Cain. It is only sex.”
Adam squinted at the alien. “Can you read my thoughts?”
Arieel was taken aback by the question. “Of course not! My Gift is tuned to my thoughts only, and to those of Mislin and Sufor.”
“Good.” At least he didn’t have that to contend with. “But Arieel, I have to pass – to say no. Maybe if this thing doesn’t work out with Sherri, then we can get together, but not now.”
“That will be too late. And I also sense that you are attaching some sort of emotional significance to this conversation. Be assured, there is none. I do not like you, and in many ways, you repulse me.”
“Then why did you even bring it up!”
“Bring what up?”
“The idea of having sex!”
“It was only for the physical sensation, Adam Cain. What did you think?”
Adam stood up, an action that afforded him an even better view of what he was passing up. “I’ve got to go to my stateroom now. Make yourself at home, and if you’re going to play with any of the electronics, just make sure you don’t kill me.”
Adam left the mess hall, a shattered and broken man, and hoping that none of the guys back at the base ever learn about what just happened. He would never live it down if they did.
It took Adam another eight hours before he felt comfortable enough to go looking for Arieel. He had spent that time formulating his plan, a plan he would initiate once they returned to Formil. In the meantime, he had a little research to do, and Arieel was his best reference.
He was surprised to find her in the pilothouse, sitting in the co-pilot’s seat staring off into space and the strange circular pattern of colored light from the surrounding stars, their spectrums curved by the presence of the gravity wells far ahead of the ship.
Her presence within the electronic hub of the ship made him nervous. Had she been fooling around with his ship, or did she just feel more comfortable surrounded by all the things of which she had complete control?
She didn’t acknowledge his presence, so he slipped into the pilot’s seat and did a quick system’s check. Everything seemed in order.
And then a red light began flashing on the air-mixture monitor. He tapped in a few commands and a graph showed that all the gases were at their proper levels. Then the light went off … just as the CW comm unit screeched. He reached for the activation button, yet before he reached it the speakers went silent.
Adam pressed his lips together and looked over at Arieel. “Do you mind not doing that?”
She looked at him with a mischievous grin.
Adam had decided it was best not to blatantly accuse her of perpetrating a fraud by using an artificial device to claim supernatural powers. Since she had been born into her position, and given her ‘powers’ at only five years of age, he wasn’t even sure she knew that she had been implanted with a device. If so, then telling her could cause irreparable damage to her psyche, if she even believed him in the first place. And whether she derived her powers from an artificial device or directly from her gods, there was no denying that she had them.
He had already seen how emotional and vain she could be. He wasn’t too anxious to see what a completely devastated Formilian Speaker would do to his ship.
So he decided to use a more innocent, indirect approach to find out more about her abilities.
“You are very good at what you do, Arieel,” he complimented. “Can you control all electrical devices?’
She took the compliment gracefully, but then seemed insulted by his second comment. “I do not control such items, I communicate with them. That is why I am The Speaker.”
Adam had to be careful; this was her religion and people are often very sensitive about their beliefs. “Of course, I apologize. Can you communicate with all devices?”
“In one way or another, yet the more sophisticated units are easier, and we have more interaction. With primitive devices I simply massage their auras.”
“That’s fascinating. Have you always been able to do this?” He knew she had gone through the ‘gifting ceremony’ at age five, but wanted to know how she remembered it.
“Of course not, Adam Cain; no one is born a Speaker. That only comes about at the Gifting Ceremony.”
“What does that mean?” Adam had her hooked.
“When a Morlic-Speaker – a pre-gift Speaker – turns five, we go through the gifting ceremony. That is when the Gift is placed into my body.”
“You have … something in your body?”
“Of course – the Gift. It is my conduit to Mislin and Sufor. It is the way I communicate with their essence in all their creations and even within the air around us.”
“Even in the air; I don’t follow?”
For an answer, Arieel turned away from him and held both her hands out, palms held vertical. Her dark eyes stared into the open space behind their seats and her pouty mouth went limp.
Adam began to feel the hairs on his arms begin to tingle, and he looked down to see them standing on edge, actually moving is an eerie wave-like motion. The air had a strong metallic odor, sort of like that of burning wires.
At first Adam thought he was imagining it, but then he began to make out more and more tiny flashes of streaking light zipping around the room. Then they became more abundant, dancing about in midair. They began to congeal, forming a sparkling, almost blinding, circle of electricity about the size of a golf ball between Arieel’s hands.
Once formed, Arieel appeared to rise out of her trance, smiling at the glowing ball floating in air between her outstretched hands. She turned back to face Adam, causing the ball to float along with her. The crackling globe was only a foot or so from Adam’s face and he could feel its heat, as well as tiny offshoots of miniature lightning that reached out to touch his skin. He jerked back at first, but then realized this was like one of those static electricity globes you bought at Spencer’s Gifts. Adam had one as a kid, and he would spend hours rubbing his hands over the surface of the globe, mesmerized by the hypnotic streaks of electricity. At least until he got bored.
But this was different. Arieel had conjured this up out of thin air, collecting a concentration of free electrons out of the dry atmosphere of the ship. Even though he believed the ball to be harmless, he didn’t trust that Arieel could easily elevate the ball to a more deadly level, almost like a shot from an MK bolt launcher.
Adam looked past the ball and at Arieel’s face, her perfectly smooth skin aglow in the light of her creation, impossibly black eyes now alive with dancing reflections of light. This was pure joy to the Formilian, the actual presence of her gods, held gently in her hands.
Then Adam saw her lips pucker, and with a soft exhale, she blew the ball away. If spread out into the room, wrapping around Adam’s head as it dissolved.
“That was amazing,” Adam said, truly impressed with Arieel and her beaut
iful innocence.
She smiled a wide, perfect smile full of brilliant white teeth. There was no challenge in her, just joy. “It takes time and effort to bring together the free spirits of Mislin and Sufor. These are the wanders, looking for a home within the devices we create. They are so grateful when they can come together, to touch others of their kind, to grow closer to their creators through me. I would do this more often, but it does take a lot of concentration.”
“How do you do it?” Adam’s question was more rhetorical. He knew he wouldn’t understand even if she told him.
“I must see the gathering first, and then they come. Since the spirits cannot be seen at first, it is hard for me to do this, but I promise I will get better the older I get.”
“I think you did a great job; you are truly talented. But Arieel, why is there only one Speaker at a time. Can the gift not be given to others? This is a great power you have.”
Arieel blinked several times and he saw her bronze skin grow a shade darker. Her smile vanished, but soon a poor imitation returned. “I know you are a non-believer and an alien of limited intellect, so I will not blame you for your naiveté, nor will I get mad, since I have come to learn that your inquiries are not malicious. Our Gods only allow one Speaker at a time, to have more would be to invade their home. The Speakers have always been Bols, and they always will be.”
“But Arieel, what would have happened if you had died on Uniss-3? There would be no Speaker then.”
“That is true, and yet already my eggs have been harvested for such an event. Whether I die violently, from accident or disease, my line will continue. The essence of the High Celebrant and my own will be combined and a new Morlic-Speaker will be born.”
“But it will take years before she’ll assume power.”
“The Order will maintain our culture. It has happened forty-eight times before, and still we survive.”
Adam nodded. She had answered his question, but not completely. “Yes, Arieel, your society is very impressive. I understand your people have been instrumental in creating almost every major development in electronics in the galaxy, even before there was an Expansion.”