by T. R. Harris
“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 back 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 ha
d 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 deadlier 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 beautiful 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.”
“We must create the offerings for Mislin and Sufor. The more we create, the happier we make them.”
“And the Gift that allows you to communicate with your gods, do your people create that, too, or is it of divine origin?”
“Again, I will forgive you, for you do not understand. All our creations are of divine origin. How do you suppose we have acquired the knowledge to build them?”
Through science and technology, Adam thought.
“Our greatest minds have been blessed with the knowledge to build our devices, including the Gift. My place in the universe is to communicate with the Gods. Others fulfill their destiny by constructing our devices. It is a wonderful union of purpose and contribution.”
That was what he needed to know! The device that gave her the power to control electronics was manmade, or in this case, Formilian-made.
Adam’s heart was pounding and he was having difficulty breathing. He needed to get to the galley soon and mix himself a stiff drink. Possibilities were exploding in his head and he needed something to calm them down.
He stood up, his legs wobbly.
“Are you well?” Arieel asked. “You have turned even more pale than normal.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m just a little dehydrated. I need a drink.”
“Then you must go. I can control the devices of this ship, yet I lack the skill at piloting.”
Adam displayed a wry grin. All she’s concerned about is having someone to land the ship.
He was relieved in a way, knowing that she at least saw some value in having him around. If that’s the case, he may actually make it back to Formil alive.
13
Adam was in the pilothouse, alone with his thoughts, when the CW link came in from Kroekus.
The Expansion Administrator had a deep look of concern on his alien face, which Adam recognized immediately.
“What’s happened, Kroekus? You look terrible.”
“I have some very troubling news for you, Adam,” Kroekus said. “I have just received various reports that a reward has been placed on you and The Speaker, if you can be stopped from returning to Formil within the next seven days standard.”
“I’m not that concerned,” Adam said. “I’m only about twenty-five hours out. It’s a little late to come after me now. Besides, the Phoenix is faster than anything out here.”
“But, Adam, the reward is for thirty-million credits!”
Adam was stunned. This was obviously the thirty-million he’d delivered to McCarthy, and he knew that even though it wasn’t a lot of money for the Order, to everyone else in the galaxy, it was a king’s fortune.
“Yeah, well that changes things.”
“I thought it would. I have been receiving reports that nearly whole spaceports are being cleared out as hundreds of ships are heading out looking for you.”
“No shit?” Adam said, sitting up straighter in his seat, while dialing the proximity detector out to max.
“There are still nearly a dozen occupied worlds you have to pass on the way to Formil. The path before you may soon be full of hundreds, if not thousands of ships looking to collect the reward. And Adam, a word of caution: If you do make it to Formil, beware of the natives as well. There has been such an excitement about this reward that I fear there is no place where you will find sanctuary over the next seven days.”
“Is there anything you can do to help?”
Kroekus shook his head. “Even if I could, I would be afraid to. What if one of the ships I sent to assist you decided to mutiny? I would not trust anyone, Adam. Use whatever skills you and Arieel Bol can muster, but you have a very difficult path ahead of you.”
“Yes, we call it running the gauntlet back on Earth.”
“You are familiar with this concept?” Kroekus said, stunned. “So this is commonplace for Humans?”
“I didn’t say that, but the concept is understood. Thanks for telling me. I will be on the lookout.”
“Please keep me informed. You know how important the survival of the
Speaker is to the affairs of the Expansion.”
“Yes, sir, I do: Cain out.”
Adam next fingered the controls for the ship’s 1-MC system. “Arieel, please come to the pilothouse immediately. We have a situation.”
Less than a minute later, Arieel entered the pilothouse. This time she was wearing one of Adam’s old sweatpants and an-oversized sweatshirt of his. Even then, the frumpy clothing could not hide the incredible curves underneath, and her lustrous black hair always seemed to have just the right wave in it, looking like she’d just stepped out of the beauty salon.
Adam shook his head to dismiss his thoughts, more inappropriate now in light of the grave situation they were in.
“What is the crisis, Adam Cain?” She asked as she sauntered up next to his chair, standing very close and smelling of strawberries – however that was possible.
“Our friend McCarthy has offered a bounty on our heads for anyone who can keep us from getting to the Rites Ceremony on time.”
Arieel’s eyes grew wide. “What is a bounty, and how does placing anything on our heads keep us from returning to Formil? Also, I was not aware McCarthy was our friend.”
Adam’s mouth simple dropped open for a moment. In spite of how sophisticated the Formilian translation bugs were, they did have their drawbacks.
“He’s not our friend, and to prove it, he is offering credits to anyone who can kill us or keep us from reaching Formil within the next seven days. Is that any clearer?” The frustration was evident in his voice.
“Yes, much clearer. But even for credits, the task would be very difficult and against the laws of the Coalition and of the Expansion. Why would anyone take up such a challenge?”
“For thirty-million credits, that’s why.”
Arieel frowned slightly and nodded her head. “I understand that such an amount of credits is a substantial to some. I take it you believe it will be sufficient to initiate a response?”
“To say the least; I just spoke with Administrator Kroekus and he says entire spaceports are clearing out as ships head out to find us.”