It was a beautiful specimen. Young, possibly male, and in good condition, its white and tan pelt shining with good health.
“You thirsty too?” she asked with a soft voice.
It tilted its head at the strange sound she made. She got up slowly on all fours and inched toward it, her head bowed in non-threatening gesture. Somehow she knew what to do. Could it be that her genome still carried instinctive information about wolves, information stored in her basal ganglia for generations and somehow recovered through her unique enhancements? It shouldn’t be surprising. Wolves and humans had co-evolved over hundreds of thousands of years. Some had been domesticated and trained as hunting companions and guardians, even as domestic pets. There had been genuine trust and friendship between the species.
The wolf gave a short bark and wagged its tail playfully. She mimicked the bark and made a playful leap to the side. It barked again.
“Still not sure of me?” She rolled onto her back and it inched forward on its hindquarters. She rolled back onto all fours and leapt forward a little. It retreated and gave a little growl, still wagging its tail.
“Coward,” she said and it barked again.
This time she leapt directly at it and it dodged. It barked and wagged its tail again. She guessed it was a juvenile, still young enough to want to play. She had to be careful. It could still bite and claw if it felt threatened. She jumped again but this time she caught one of its back legs, letting it go quickly. The wolf barked twice and made a tentative move to playfully attack her, unsure of how to deal with this strange creature. She stood and ran behind a tree and it barked and chased her. She was laughing now. This was fun. She ran through the forest and it followed her at speed. When she stopped and turned it leapt on her, playfully attempting to grab at her neck. She was surprised but grabbed its body and wrestled it to the ground, her skin pleased by the feel of its soft fur and warmth, her sense of smell recognising a primal scent. She knew that she had to dominate the beast, knew that these games played an important role in determining who would be the alpha. She grabbed at the wolf’s ears and began to playfully rough it up. It knew she was physically stronger and it relented, lying on its back in the position of surrender. Somewhere she remembered that domesticated dogs loved to have their bellies rubbed so she started to stroke it. She laughed when a bright pink shaft of an erection began to protrude from a small fur covered penile sheath.
“Truth is, this has made me horny too my friend, but somehow I don’t think interspecies sex is ethical in this particular instance. Besides, you might get the wrong idea about who is boss.”
She rubbed its stomach for a little longer, using the time to study its anatomy: the structure of its legs, the placing of the ribs, the softness of its stomach area. Lying on its back she could see the familiar vertebrate structure. She recalled that canines shared about eighty percent of the vertebrate genome with humans. Hadn’t there been legends about wolves turning into humans and she wondered if some of their genes might be useful, especially an enhanced sense of smell. She studied its genitals out of curiosity but did not want to overly stimulate it (she had a vague memory of reading that humans had learned to stimulate a variety of beasts for the purposes of controlled breeding). She knew that female canines emitted a strong scent when they were ovulating and given she was not a canine, its erection was clearly incidental. Its behaviour would have been entirely different in the presence of a bitch on heat.
She stood abruptly and it looked up at her with pleading eyes. She spoke with clear authority. “Time to go boy, it’s getting cold.” She turned and began to walk away. The wolf followed her for a little while but a howl in the distance diverted its attention. She turned; it met her gaze for a moment, ran into the forest and was gone.
It had been an extraordinary encounter; one she doubted she could easily explain. There was a connection, an understanding. She had been remarkably quick to gain its trust. It wasn’t rational. It was as if the beast was communicating directly with her basal ganglia, her deepest instincts: perhaps because they were genetically related, branching off from a common ancestor in the distant path.
She was beginning to shiver as she found her way to her clothes. It was a relief to put them on and trap her natural body heat between its layers. Clothes were certainly sensible in cold climates. Humanity would not have survived if they had not used fur and wool or learned how to convert plant matter to create cloth. It’s just that it never made much sense in tropical climates like that of Eden. She picked up her pace to keep warm and wondered what it would feel like to grow fur like a wolf.
As she made her way back she wondered about the first humans to settle in the Himalayas. The environment would have been much the same. Indeed, ancient humans must have walked this forest thousands of years ago. It gave her a strange feeling, a remembrance. This planet was home. She belonged.
She knew she was dreaming, her mind processing subconscious information. The meeting with the wolf had stimulated ancient memories. She was running with a pack of wolves under a full moon. They had accepted her as their leader and she was using them to help her hunt. She was wearing fur over naked skin; just enough to stop the wind chill. When she commanded them to stop, they obeyed. She knew how to communicate with them. She understood all their vocalisations, facial expressions and body language. She was a hunter, possibly Paleolithic, her senses finely attuned to her environment. She saw her prey, a large stag. She held her spear poised and waited. Her aim had to be accurate. She could not afford to waste an opportunity. She held her breath, steadied her aim and let go. The spear pierced the stag’s flank and it bolted into the undergrowth. She set the wolves loose. The stag was weakened and this enabled the wolves to bring it down. She raced after them and saw the stag fall. She barked for the wolves to stop, again they obeyed. She called out, a loud howling call to her fellow hunters. They arrived carrying leather ropes and wood poles. They trussed the stag onto a rough sled made of the poles and fur, harnessed the dogs and working together they hauled the heavy beast back to camp. Everyone feasted that night, the wolves gnawing contentedly on offal and bones, their pups and the human children well fed and playing happily together.
She heard a howl in the distance and woke with a startle. “What is it?” asked Biyu, disturbed by her movement.
“Nothing.” She got out of bed, grabbed a shawl and walked out onto a rickety balcony. A half-moon broke through clouds and her breath turned to steam. “I know boy,” she said to herself. “You want me to come out and play.” She heard the howl again and knew that it was a call to her. She felt an inexplicable desire to run into the woods. She knew she would be safe. She heard another howl, this time from a different individual. It was another invitation. The pack was calling her. Her frontal cortex told her it would be crazy to head into the forest, that she would freeze and struggle to see in the dark. Fear crept in and she shuddered. “I’m not ready boy, not yet, sorry.” She turned and walked inside. It seemed impossible. Earth was stirring instinctive memories. She felt alive in a way she had never felt before. It wasn’t something she could analyse intellectually. It was something that had to be felt deep within.
“You all right?” asked Biyu groggily.
“Yes, just a dream.” She snuggled into Biyu and knew that wolves and humans had once found such protection and comfort.
104
Torv
The stallion’s eyes were wide with suspicion.
“It senses you are different. You must gain its trust.” The youth was speaking softly as Torv approached the beast. “You must have no fear yourself.”
He was right. She was afraid. The horse was bigger than she expected and was all rippling muscle and nervous energy.
“It’s alright boy,” she said softly, trying to maintain a calm voice.
“Show him the apple, let him come to you.” She looked over at the youth, a handsome beardless boy from a local tribe, a natural horseman. His name was Ram and he smiled at her with encour
agement. He had accepted her strangeness with remarkable calm, although it was difficult to fathom what he really thought.
She held out her hand and the horse snorted.
“He has accepted you, but he is proud. You must stand your ground. Allow yourself to talk to him through your eyes. They can read human faces and understand emotion. He will only trust you if you are strong.”
She held the apple up and stared directly into the beast’s eyes. She could see the intelligence; see it returning her gaze. It dropped its muzzle for a moment and snorted again. It bowed its head and tapped the ground with one of its front hooves.
“It’s okay,” she said calmly.
It shook its mane. The apple was tempting and it walked forward. Her hand began to shake as it snatched the apple from her. It was surprisingly gentle, although she guessed that a bite could be quite nasty.
“Now rub his neck, up behind the ears. Be firm but gentle. Let him sense your strength.”
She reached forward and suddenly her flesh was in contact with its flesh.
“Now feel along its flank. Do not jump if he moves. You must build a bond before he will let you mount him.”
He was beautiful: his pelt a rich velvet black. She continued to stroke and pat him and it seemed to calm him. She studied him carefully. His powerful hindquarters, his round belly, the mane that ran across the ridge of his spine. She found it oddly erotic. Humans had been embarrassed by their own nudity but had readily accepted the raw nudity of animals. It seemed a contradiction to her given the important place of animals in Terran culture.
“He may accept a saddle now. You must be in command,” said Ram.
“Can I try bareback? I understand it is possible.”
Ram laughed. These aliens were odd. “It takes skill. A saddle gives the rider more control.”
“I dislike what I have seen of the mouthpieces. I would not like a bit in my mouth.”
“Perhaps you can sit on him. Here, I’ll help you up.”
“No need,” she said as she effortlessly mounted the horse with a single, acrobatic leap.
Ram was startled by her agility. He had heard these Edenoi were athletic, but he had yet to see a demonstration.
The stallion accepted her easily and she lay down across its back to whisper in its ear. “Hello boy, shall we be friends?” she asked as she instinctively rubbed its neck. She took a deep breath. Something was not quite right.
“I’m sorry if this embarrasses you Ram,” she said as she sat up. “But I feel I need to feel his flesh with my flesh.”
“It is okay magnus. I’ve have been warned about your ways.” He turned to walk away.
“It is not necessary for you to leave or look away.”
He gulped and bowed his head. She did not hesitate, ripping off her shirt and twisting her legs to the side to wrestle off her trousers. It was a blessed relief to be naked again. She turned to look at Ram. He was staring at her, his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I do not mind Ram. Do not avert your eyes. Come closer and explain how I might control the horse.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t be silly. We Edenoi do not care.”
He moved forward slowly and spoke nervously. “He will respond to pressure from the legs: a gentle kick to move him forward, a lean to turn him. If you hold his mane he will respond to the way you pull it. You must relax into his body completely.”
“You have done this haven’t you?”
His face flushed again. “Yes, we ride them naked to the river to bathe them and ourselves.”
“So you understand my reasoning?”
“Yes, it is sound. Some argue that it builds a better bond and helps develop riding skills.”
“So my intuition is correct.”
He nodded and looked up at her. She looked beautiful, in complete command. He was too awe struck to be aroused. “If I may?” He slid his hand between her knee and the horse. “You press into here.”
She pressed against the horse and he used his hand to feel the amount of pressure she was applying. Her thighs were remarkably strong. “You can be more gentle.” He reached up and directed her hands to the horse’s mane. “Grip it like this, tight. It will help you maintain balance. You face a greater risk of being thrown off otherwise. Balance is everything.”
“I understand. I can feel the problem. I will have to grip with my thighs as well.”
“Yes, and you will feel it,” he warned. “Especially on the inner thigh muscles and the thighbones. You must also be careful not to let your hipbones hit his spine. He will not like it, nor will you.”
“No, bone on bone does not sound good.” She lay back down on the horse, allowing her skin to feel its skin. She was sweating slightly and it was mixing with the horse’s sweat. Could it be possible that he could feel her skin through his - for her to feel the twitching of his muscle and the pulse in his veins? “Stand back Ram, I’m going to give this a go.”
“I’m not sure…”
“I am,” she said as she sat up, kicked the horse and commanded, “go boy.”
The horse hesitated but she persisted. Then it decided to test her by leaping forward. She almost lost her balance, but her thighs were strong and she gripped him tightly. “Come on boy, you like this. Let’s go.” She kicked again and it picked up speed. It was an odd sensation and it took her a while to adjust, but her body had its own intelligence and she quickly adapted to the bounce and roll of the horse’s body. It was as thrilling as she had imagined. She kicked again and the horse went into a gallop. She was now racing across the dusty parade ground. She leant sideways to turn the horse and it responded. She let out a yelp of joy.
Ram was watching with utter amazement. He had never seen a person adapt so quickly. He was no longer embarrassed by her nudity. Instead she looked as if she were an integral part of the animal, her taught, muscular physique a natural match for the rippling muscles of the stallion. It was as if she had been born to ride.
She pulled the horse to a canter as she approached Ram. She pulled at its mane and the horse rose on its hind legs and let out a triumphant neigh. She did not lose her balance.
“Showoff,” she laughed as she dismounted in one fluid movement.
Ram didn’t know what to say. He had seen something beautiful and remarkable.
“Let’s wash this boy down,” she said as she led the horse to the stables.
“Are all of the Edenoi natural riders like you?” he asked as he followed her to the water trough.
“My unit are as competent as me,” she said somewhat arrogantly. “If not they will have to explain themselves.”
Within a week her unit had mastered the basics of riding. The following week they were developing combat skills, learning to ride free hand at gallop so they could use weapons, to leap on and off a moving horse and even to perform tricks, how to defend themselves against a mounted assailant. Their Terran trainers were startled at their rapid progress. They had never seen such athleticism. Rumours began to spread that they were not really human, that they were the reincarnations of the warrior gods of the past: the horsemen of the Mahabharata. Some even said they were really the Ashvin, the legendary half horse, half human siblings that carried the sun from sunrise to sunset.
105
Akash
He could hear the music as he approached the door. He realised it wasn’t recorded as soon as entered the apartment. Alice was at the piano engrossed in the Goldberg variations by Bach, her back turned. He had never really seen her play to her full capacity. He had only heard her play pieces to instruct Pema and Nour. She was flawless and the way she moved indicated a maturity and passion he had never seen before. He closed the door quietly, found a chair and closed his eyes so he could concentrate. He sighed from the pleasure; he had always enjoyed the mathematical precision of Bach.
The music was beautiful and her interpretation subtle and sensitive. It took him by surprise and tears began to form. He drifted into the music and le
t it carry him to somewhere sublime.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”
He opened his eyes to see her getting up from the piano stool. She looked beautiful. Why hadn’t he seen this before? The music had transformed her demeanour completely. She was no longer an awkward, bossy child, but a calm, almost radiant artist.
“No, don’t stop on my account. It’s beautiful. Please continue.”
“I’m a bit out of practice,” she said as she sat down. “I’ve already prepared dinner. It’s bubbling away on the stove. Korean noodles.”
She continued playing as he freshened up and put on more comfortable clothing. It lifted his mood completely. He glided over to her, doing a little dance at some up-tempo piece and she laughed. He leant over and kissed her hello on the cheek and she responded warmly. She was playing completely from memory and he marvelled at the way her hands effortlessly worked the keys. He walked over to the kitchen and lifted the lid of the pot. It smelled delicious. He pulled out two bowls and set the table for two - Tshering was away visiting her family with Pema and Nour, and Freja was busy getting to know the new team, taking them into town to a disco.
He returned to the lounge and poured himself a rare whiskey. He didn’t usually drink but tonight was an exception. Alice was playing a particularly vigorous variation and her hair was bouncing around with the movement of her head, her brow furrowed with concentration.
He closed his eyes and drifted off.
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