Eye of the Gazelle

by Marcia Tucker

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, and people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Marcia Tucker

  Imprint Logo by Kathy Storch

  ISBN: 978-1-7346728-2-4

  Website: perseusseries.net

  Facebook: AuthorMarciaTucker

  IG: marcia.tucker.author

  Twitter: MarciaTAuthor

  Cover design and layout:

  Martin | Cover Art Studio

  www.coverartstudio.com

  All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Dedication

  To my beloved Gary, my life partner,

  and to my ever-patient designer, Martin.

  One makes life possible.

  One makes my visions live.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  1: The Message

  2. ComGen

  3: Maritza

  4: Pelan

  5: The Attitudes

  6: Thho

  7: Attractions

  8: Polluxanvega

  9: No Where

  10: Prater

  11: Missed

  12: Xost

  13: Xandee

  14: Scorpa

  15: Stander

  16: Considerations

  17: The Return

  18: merge5

  19: The Revelation

  20: Connections

  21: Decisions

  22: Separation

  23: Unrequited

  24: Expansion

  25: Mind

  26: One

  27: Resolution

  Epilogue

  From High Telepaths:

  About the Author:

  Prologue

  One of the two stowaways on the Defender-class Starship Andromedea had decided to make the best of their situation by helping themselves to the archives of the ship's “brain,” a Construct called Crater 0001, what his creator called a cybernism. I'll never get bored in here, heh, the energy entity, Cel, thought to themselves as they accessed the cybernism's language archives. Okay, this thing they call Englang. One hell of a messy language, this! But one I'll need if I have to deal with these organic beings. Here we go...

  Within minutes, Cel had mastered the main language of the United Star Communities, the federation in this region of space. Being a natural sponge, this sort of thing was commonplace for an entity who flew through existence by what in Englang could be colloquially called “by the seat of his pants.” Or rather their pants. Cel had no gender, although they had the capability of manifesting a physical form of any gender of any species they chose. As yet, they had no reason to do such a thing.

  This dude, Crater, has chewed on some hundred and thirty languages. Seriously? Cel mused idly, regarding the cybernism with interest. Englang itself had a number of permutations, plus there were the languages of other local species: Esontian, Hgun, Vriesian. And Tar, the language of the neighboring Taree Empire. But inexplicably, Crater also had stored languages no longer extant to the Human species like German, Spanish, Mandarin, Tagalog, Hindi, Greek and even more bizarrely, languages not in use for thousands of years like Latin and Anglo-Saxon. And more.

  After a little more digging — being careful to avoid the overwhelming onslaught of information managed by the cybernism — Cel discovered the reason for the Latin and Greek databases. Crater had an intense interest in medicine. Something utterly useless and distasteful to the energy entity.

  However, Cel rather enjoyed discovering the colorful expletives used in the common speech of Humans over centuries. They knew hundreds of languages themselves, and over time had indulged in the most virulent of expressions designed to irritate others and guarantee to cause as much chaos as possible. Calling that silly offspring of the ruler of the planet Gyfobbit a 'viturgistink' was massively fun, even if his minions chased me out of the system and nearly caught me. The term had something to do with a process of elimination of waste and the teasing of a particular body part.

  Why the hell does Crater have a collection of such things, too? Cel wondered, amused. No one on this boring ship uses that type of language. Even that drunk woman in command right now doesn't swear. Well, not in public, heh.

  They contemplated manifesting a Human body in order to play around the starship a little. It was one of their favorite powers and the least understood, which mattered to them not at all. Being that Cel was a very thorough sponge, they were capable of getting the “whole” of a being that they perceived and then copying that form fairly exactly.

  Cel had utterly no idea how they were able to do that.

  They'd already determined that only one of the organic beings currently on board the starship was able to detect their presence at all, although they had no idea whether Stander Kvaan actually had. The naturally stoic and quiet Dracon-Human kept to himself in the navigations Pit on the control deck, taking the entire shift in order to monitor the Starlock and Crater's constant course corrections.

  Let sleeping dogs lie, Cel thought with a quote picked out of Crater's expansive collection. Whatever a dog is! Not going to arouse the suspicion of that guy, I think.

  Curhef — the other stowaway, sulking and non-communicative — had camped out in the Starlock drive hold. Cel knew the other entity was smarting from the failure with Korgovax. Fucker! Good riddance! Cel thought darkly. The damn truth, though, is that I have every reason to believe they haven't actually let me go. My distractions helped them but now that Curhef doesn't have much of a chance anymore with the Taree, they're surely cooking up another scheme. I can't think about them right now. Once we get to Althaea, I'll have a chance to leave... I hope.

  Then Cel had another, darker thought. Holy shit, we're in Gamma Universe. Forgot that little detail! My home playground — I guess the silly Humans would name that Kappa? — is extremely close to Gamma. Too close. Even if this were Kappa, it's fortunately nowhere near the systems I've been in lately. The Gyfobbiti wouldn't be looking for me in this backwater section of what the Humans call the Perseus Arm, this Orion Spur. Damn it, I have to leave that universe behind forever. Fortunately the Humans seems to have utterly no interest in switching to Kappa much less looking around while enroute. But it makes me nervous to even be here.

  Cel settled down, hiding their energy signature in the hold where Crater's main unit was housed. It ought to be the last place into which anyone would think to perceive — cept was their term. They were sorely tempted to chat up the cybernism, but that might draw attention to themselves. Let's see what else I can sponge up here...

  *

  The time streams flickered like glistening rivers in all directions before the inner eye of the Observer. There are encounters that must happen, she noted soberly. Even those two energy entities have their part to play. I do not like to interfere so much, but this I must do.

  Without warning them, the Observer plucked the energetic clusters of ions of the two entities, Cel and Curhef, out of the Defender Andromedea and deposited them into the Pollux System in Alpha Universe. Tidbits of information were summarily planted into their minds, suggestions. Neither would ever have any idea — maybe never — that they were being manipulated so that the Observer could direct events in order to fulfill the time-stream she deemed most promising. There was too much at stake for her to take the chance that things could play out on their own, too many streams that led in utter failure.

  As well as the collapse of Alpha Universe

/>   *

  The hell? Cel thought, observing the orange giant star, which emphatically was not Gozgazel. It was shocking to find one's ionic cluster abruptly drifting in space, the Andromedea nowhere to be detected. Who did that? Bollucks! Eh, at least I'm no longer in Gamma! Isn't this Alpha Universe?

  They suspected Curhef. The other entity was also floating in space a few kilometers away. Obviously they were manipulating things again, though Cel had no idea Curhef was capable of teleporting so far. Flipping between universes, yes. But moving that distance, no.

  “What are you doing? Just let me go already, you piece of shit!” Cel sent to the other.

  “Oh, no, you don't get away so easily!” Curhef thought back to Cel, what the Humans called menttransing. “Don't think for a second I'm done with you yet, Cel! We've got a task to do here on Althaea. That's what they call that third planet, right? Now that Korgovax is dead—”

  I knew it! Cel thought, incensed. They checked their shielding hastily; to their relief, their defenses were still in place. If the ship's internal sensors hadn't been able to detect them, this Community's wouldn't either.

  “Yeah, about that,” Cel retorted in response. “Who killed him? Obviously you skipped out before that happened. So it must have been that Vekta guy. Huh, I've been in his head. It's not like him to kill.”

  “Never mind about that!”

  Curhef, to the other's dismay, had a way of confining their mental energy. Cel could not go off on their own. For now, they were going to have to play along with them. “Yeah, yeah. What's going to happen on Althaea? What about me? I did what you asked, so shouldn't you let me go? What task?”

  “You don't need to know. In fact, you're in my way right now! I—” Curhef halted their retort. Cel was suddenly gone.

  Eh, good riddance, Curhef thought. They could no longer perceive the other entity's mental presence anywhere. That Cel could escape their control so easily wasn't something they wanted to think about just then. The conclusions that sort of thinking would produce weren't amenable to their plans, after all. No, thinking was non-productive.

  Even if Curhef had no idea how they landed in the Pollux System just now. And did not care to know.

  *

  Sorry, the Observer thought, but did not attempt to communicate as such to Cel whom she had removed yet again. You, Cel, need to be somewhere else for a while until it is your turn to meet them. Then... it will all start from there!

  1: The Message

  Story Rentclifv pressed qer nose against the window, gazing out over the sunset beyond the city of Leda sprawled below the high rise apartment shared with qer twin in Base Temporaries. Agency Headquarters and Fleet Base ringed the city; all was black in silhouette before the display. “Wow,” qe murmured.

  The sky was a brilliant crimson in sunset, deepening to maroon in the west. The massive yellow-orange giant, Pollux, lay heavy and immense, like a wall of blood on the eastern horizon of its third planet, Althaea. To the top edge of the view, close to the zenith, a tiny disk could be discerned, the huge fourth planet dominating the Pollux System, Thestias, visible even in daytime. In ancient Greek mythology — some three thousand and five hundred years ago — Althaea was the sister of Leda, mother of Pollux, whereas Thestius for which the dominant planet of the system was named, was the father of Leda and Althaea.

  Not that many citizens of the United Star Communities or even Althaeans were aware of that bit of history.

  The eleven-year-old Rentclifv twins watched as Pollux dipped below the horizon. It was hard to get used to a sunset in the east after the “northern” sunsets on the planet they'd left behind, but otherwise they didn’t mind, having other things on their minds. The sunset was glorious, even through the filtered window. The only thing missing was Bapa.

  Story got up and turned away from the window. The inferno cast reddish light on everything in the room, wearying on eyes used to the ice-blue sky of Orbglen, Rikent IV, their most recent home. Althaea’s sky at best, high noon, only managed a lavender, unable to overpower the orange-golden light of the giant star.

  Qe glanced back at qer sister, squinting. “Come on, Cory, Bapa say he’d call when they got to Gozgazel. Prater says they should have arrived hours ago. Bapa ought to be calling any minute. Right, Prater?” Qe glanced at the red light of the cybernism’s viewport on the wall.

  “Indeed,” the Crater 0002, named Prater, spoke up on cue. “Of course the ship has procedures to follow and they could have been very busy. Dr. Rentclifv will be calling shortly.”

  Cory sat like a stone, not really having heard either her qother or the Crater. She was thinking hard about the little niggling itch she knew both of them had been feeling for some time. A mental itch, like there was something they needed to be doing or sensing or remembering. It bothered her and nagged at her, and she didn’t like it one bit. Bapa is out chasing around the Perseus Arm after evil aliens and we’re stuck on Althaea. But somehow we need to be here for… something.

  She finally pulled her eyes away from the sliver of Pollux still showing over the edge of the horizon. And I used to like red, she further mused as she rubbed at her eyes.

  “Luckily we have treated windows,” the unwelcome voice of their temporary guardian came from the direction of the doorway. “Careful with your eyes, there.”

  Cory threw a venomous gaze toward the Fleet officer — whom she'd come to think of as their “keeper” — through vermilion spots. “Don’t you know, foolish one, that the rays of the mighty orange star can give one the power to see past the time dimension into the future? For you I see evil times ahead…” She narrowed her eyes at the apparition.

  *

  Here we go again, Lieutenant Maddi Hewett of the Perseus Defense Fleet considered sourly to herself, crossing her arms over her chest, sighing. Despite her background in child psychology and experience as a medical officer on the Defender-class starship Amaterasu, she had been completely unable to connect with the twin children of the commander of the Defender Andromedea. She’d wondered if it was because she was not a Dracon as they were, or perhaps the twins were really this stuck up.

  Twins... and nearly identical, she mused, frowning. Though she knew Story to be a biomale — a term still used on her home planet — qe had chosen when much younger to forego expressing a gender identity. Hence the designation as a qild and the use of the pronouns qe and qer. Both had their father's wiry gold hair — cut short — and dark brown eyes. Like many twins, they dressed alike.

  “Message coming in,” the Crater 0002 spoke up.

  “Hey!” Maddi exclaimed as the twins flashed past her down the hallway toward the sole communications node in their apartment — the older Fiftheye system, not Sixtheye. They jostled her so that she smacked against the wall. “Is it Colonel Rentclifv, Prater?” She followed her charges at a more dignified pace.

  “That cannot be ascertained,” the cybernism murmured.

  “Actually, I’m surprised the Colonel would call from the Gozgazel System,” Maddi commented, sighing. “Or even could. Didn't think we had communications out that far. Isn’t that an outpost of the Taree Empire?”

  As she entered the family entertainment room where the Fiftheye communications node was located, Story turned back to cast a dark glare at her. The twins clearly resented her guardianship. “Bapa said he would call!” qe muttered. “Idiot.”

  “Oh, really!” Maddi sighed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorjamb. “That doesn’t even make sense—”

  “He’s calling!” Cory snapped, then turned back to the node where the open 3D display was still processing the incoming protocols. “Isn’t it coming through yet, Prater?”

  The twins had accepted the name their father had recently given the cybernism; Maddi Hewatt thought it was silly. She thought “Crater” equally silly, but she didn’t question the scientist’s choices. What bothered her more was that everyone seemed to regard the cybernism as something special, wh
en it seemed no more sentient than the computer on the Amaterasu or other ships on which she’d served. Prater had not even adopted a gender designation, and weirdly avoided referring to itself in the first person. Yet the twins treated it as if it was part of their family. So odd…

  “There seems to be a delay,” Prater replied, and was there an undercurrent of frustration in its voice?

  Maybe there’s hope for this one after all, Maddi considered curiously. But the cybernism should have said: “I see no reason for a delay.” What's with that?

  “What?” the twins said together. “Tell them to hurry up!” Cory yelled.

  “There shouldn’t be any delay. Isn’t this a Sixtheye connection?” Story wanted to know. Impatient, both of them waved hands inside the displayed field, trying to get the connection open.

  “Fiftheye. Do not do that,” Prater murmured, then there was a crackle of noise and suddenly a voice.

  “I don’t want to speak to the ComGen,” their father’s voice said abruptly. “Just give him this message — it’s dangerous for the—” Then it cut out suddenly, the Fiftheye commfield collapsing.

  “Fleetcomm!” Cory shouted. “Come back, we lost the transmission! Put it back through!”

  “It is already gone,” Prater murmured. “Reconnecting to Fleetcomm at Althaea Base again.”

  Maddi frowned, clucking her tongue in irritation. “What did I say? Gozgazel’s over fifty light years away. Since it's an outpost of the Taree Empire, there shouldn't be any communication between Chalawan — the nearest Community — and Gozgazel. Even if there were, it’s still a very long way for the transmission to travel. Even with a Sixtheye things can get lost in the omniPanx Nexus.”

  The twins ignored her. “Prater, get the Andromedea back! That’s was Bapa’s voice. He needs us!”

  “It is not likely—” Prater tried to say.

  “Do it,” Story snapped.

  There was a pause while Prater connected to the main communications authority on Althaea Base. Maddi considered that it could connect directly with the computers on base. The cybernism ought to be aware the twins were not going to be satisfied if it simply repeated what they told it, that the transmission had been cut off at the source and could not be traced back or recovered. She and the twins waited while it pieced through the protocols to get to a live operator.