The Book of Ominiue: Starborn

by D. M. Barnham

  Shayne lay there awhile, enjoying the absence of voices. The only sound was Kíe moving about his bed, stripping the fancy bed covers so that only the under layer was left, and folding the other blankets and putting them upon a nearby chair.

  A knock came from the door. Kíe opened it just enough to see the Brigadier waiting alone. Kíe looked down upon the star officer and smiled, he greeted him in English, his accent similar to a native Spanish speaker but with the deeper drawl of the lionmen.

  Hanniver smiled back at him, ‘Can I speak to Shayne Forrester?’ Kíe did not understand exactly what he said but he knew what he wanted. The scholar turned back to the room. The light from the hallway lamps poured in as he opened the door further. Shayne slowly rose and headed for the hallway, closing the door behind him so he and the Brigadier were alone.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you,’ Hanniver said. Shayne yawned while rubbing one of his eyes, wondering if the man was sincere or not. He did not see why the Earthman would exchange pleasantries with him. ‘I know how much time the natives take from you, but I’d like to remind you to log reports when there are no other soldiers or machines with you.’

  ‘I intended to,’ Shayne replied, ‘but they never seem to leave me alone.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Hanniver added before hesitating. ‘—I just, don’t want to see the general or air vice-marshal obtain anything against you, okay? — I don’t see you as a full Starborn,’ he added after a slight hesitation. Shayne’s face hardened in suspicion. ‘—I’m not saying that you’re normal, I’m just saying that you’re; well, independent and rational. You are more rational than anyone on this whole damn colony, and I think that deserves a fair report.’

  Shayne tried to see any hint of deception but he could not read the man so he replied, ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Well, I may have been born in Germany, but my grandmother was Yemeni.’ Shayne still did not understand the significance of this, that country was a part of the Arab Molslimic Empire but he did not see how heritage could affect who he was now, but he knew the Brigadier expected him to understand. ‘Just do your job. They’ll still allow you to pursue any insignificant interests, but only if you put your job first.’ Hanniver looked down at Shayne; he was only a few centimetres taller but it was effective enough. He gave a half lazy wave as he said goodnight and made his way to his room.

  Shayne closed the door behind him; deep in thought as he leant against it. He had not expected that visit. He realised Hanniver had softened towards him. He was considered one of the more empathetic officers and everyone liked him; his temperament was the very reason he was on this mission. Shayne was becoming somewhat restless with everyone’s impending doom from this report. He knew that prejudice would probably prevail, but no matter his direction he was still guaranteed a better life than a general Starborn soldier, which was what most of them were destined to become.

  His path was most likely to lead to the subject of social sciences, and he would probably even be given freedoms for his own research. It has happened with some household robots; their programming allowed self-improvement. Open artificial intelligence could evolve with the right input and an independent machine could evolve from open learning. Such scenarios created interest within the community. These machines were awarded with citizenship; they held freedoms and rights like any living intelligent being and they were re-classed as free machines. The same treatment could be applied to Shayne. The knowledge he had obtained from the lionmen society would be invaluable in itself. Even if he was only allowed limited freedom for as long as the Gateway was under construction, those 10 years would provide him time to formulate an extensive anthropological account of this strange new world.

  Shayne lay back upon the bed; he closed his eyes and put his hands on his chest. He tried to sleep but thoughts of the Brigadier and the Astronauts were racing around his head. Hours had passed before he was deep enough in thought to drift into sleep. Kíe lay there as well looking up at the ceiling. Some moonlight shone through the window and partially lit up the room with grey shadows.

  ‘Afra’hama?’ came a voice in the darkness, resonating through the room despite its soft origin.

  Shayne stirred, he was just on the verge of sleep. He did not open his eyes as he lay there; exhausted and wishing that he was alone. ‘What?’

  ‘What are you a UeShádarn of?’ Kíe turned his head to look at Shayne, but all he could see was a dark mass upon the bed.

  ‘Physics,’ Shayne replied with a yawn.

  ‘What is that?’ the lionman inquired.

  Shayne rolled over in frustration. ‘The laws of everything: of nature, the behaviour of stars and small particles, how things move, and, argh, what does it matter anyway?’ Kíe mentally shook his head and said it did not, allowing silence to fall.

  Not much time passed before Kíe was unable to contain himself and he lifted himself onto one of his arms to face Shayne, ‘If I become your apprentice, will you teach me your science?’

  ‘Of course,’ Shayne replied with a quick flash of anger.

  ‘I mean beyond what we know; will you teach us what the Star Ta’Orian’s know.’

  ‘Of course I would. What is the point of teaching you what you already know?’ His alertness grew with his frustration and he knew it meant he would have trouble returning to sleep. ‘Are you going to pester me all night?’ he demanded. When no reply came he buried his head under his pillow hoping that anymore noise from Kíe would be stifled, but his actions were not required for the lionman rolled onto his back and looked out at the fading moonlight, a smile spread across his face; hidden by the darkness.

  ***

  The general was furious. If he was fit enough to walk he would have probably torn the place to shreds with his escalating anger. Instead he had to settle with a series of swear words and insults.

  ‘What the smeggin’ hell do you mean?’ he blurted out to Captain Arnahell, wheeling himself around to face her. He had only awoken from suspended animation a couple of days ago and the entropy in his muscles restricted him to assistant machines.

  ‘We have taken the means to educate subject number 823 beyond the requested guidelines.’

  ‘Educate!’ he swore again his face contorting with rage towards the Astronaut. ‘Educate! That Starborn is our property, understand that? That means he’s ours to train and teach, not no fracking space rat of an Astronaut! They’re Earth Empire property!’

  ‘The subject in question doesn’t fit the IDSM criteria for the Star Born Victim. It was written in the doctor’s report that all possible avenues of pursuit should be undertaken to test and evaluate the capability of the patient. We merely have accepted our duty to help with the report and to determine the true status of the patient.’

  ‘That decision should only have been made by me!’ he snapped as he thrust his fist into his chest. ‘You understand that? The report was to be given to me! I and only I can determine the appropriate measures from there. You’ve tarnished a valuable asset, something that could’ve been of great use to the military!’ General Thorn Hendingson raged, but Arnahell stiffened. Normally Astronauts put up with the Planetsiders superiority and conceited behaviour. What they do with their lives was their own choice, but something in the general’s response and attitude angered Arnahell. She stood there looking back into his old grey eyes. Hendingson saw the significance of this and realised he had stepped too far and made the situation much worse.

  ‘You stand upon my ship General, remember that,’ Arnahell reminded the New American softly, glaring down at the old military man. ‘This expedition is a joint leadership initiative and I am the expedition Commander, which is part of our trade contract with the Planetsiders for colonisation of other worlds. As part of that agreement, we’re able to conduct our own experiments and research in the pursuit of science within that planet for as long as the system is Gate-Closed.

  ‘We are in the solar system of Neals Star, HIP56948. Within this star-space, I, the Leading
Captain of the colonisation party maintains equal rank with you the Western Empire Chief General for the planet of Iraquis and all its Earth-race inhabitants until the completion of the Gateway.’ The general’s anger suddenly abated and gave way to the bitter realisation of the captain’s words. ‘The status of a Star Born Casualty states that the deregulation of class and forfeit of rights to the Last Western Front Empire government. This doesn’t imply direct ownership to the military of a classic Starborn, let alone a new and unclassified class.

  ‘A report has been filed with a request for re-evaluation and possible reclassification for the Star Born Victim 823. As a consequence, I the Captain of the Oxford colonyship declare that the subject is a questionable Starborn, with an ongoing investigation, until the conclusion can be determined back within the Empire boundaries.’ Hendingson was silent for a while; he could not believe what he had just heard. In all the years of space colonisation an Astronaut had never before imposed their authority within the legal bounds. Their nature was usually submissive, with them going about their business and the Planetsiders going about theirs. The general swallowed unable to answer.

  ‘The Starborn 823 will be able to pursue any interest,’ Arnahell’s voice became sterner, as if scolding a child, ‘without reprimand, unless he breaks the law. Is that understood?’ The general slowly nodded in submission. ‘You are still the authority over him, from a martial law and a military training view. Even with his education he is not able to assist us with the planet-side operations of the Gateway, not anymore. But he is to be given a degree of freedom; we’re interested in his actions, as I believe you are.’ With that the captain left the general where he was sitting. The general stared dumbly at the door in which she left for a moment before he wheeled himself around and left through another passageway, back towards his quarters, his anger once again rising as he had time to digest the humiliation he just endured, and from an Astronaut.

  ***

  Shayne awoke suddenly. He had the feeling he called out aloud while dreaming but he was not sure. His heart was racing and he was out of breath. He raised himself into a sitting position with his arms holding himself up. Sweat poured from his face and the bedding was all twisted. He squinted in the darkness to see if he had awoken Kíe, but the young lionman was motionless in the pale light; lying on his side Shayne could hear the faint sound of his breath.

  He clicked a button on his wristcom, a dim image came up on a small secondary screen on the surface. It simply showed the date and time. It was able to perform other tasks but they were better left for the main computer holographic and screen system interface that operated when the wristcom was opened.

  The little computer showed that it was about quarter-past-five by Iraquis time. Shayne scratched his beard briefly, contemplating whether to return to sleep. He did not enjoy the prospect of dreaming about the black fox and strange man again, so he got up. His legs protested at the movement, he bent over and rubbed them in an attempt to relieve the stiffness but was rewarded with little success. Resigned to the aches he looked down at the clothes that he slept in and frowned at his lack of discipline. He took his shoes and socks off and carried them with him out the room; the stone floor was pleasantly cool on his feet as he made his way to the main hall. The guest rooms were on the upper level, running alongside the central building. It was a straightforward walk from his room to the hall, but the other hallways and rooms became increasingly hard to navigate for the castle was a natural maze; a product from less than peaceful times.

  Shayne made his way down the stairs. The oil lamps were lit and half a dozen Bohaníde soldiers and four servants were there. He saw Pan’arden talking to a human servant, with her tiger seemingly inseparable at her side.

  Shayne sat down at one of the human tables; the machines were all in the hall. The mule was lying on the ground inactive with the two robots next to it. At Shayne’s arrival the two robots powered up, surprising a servant walking by. 14D-SCMSR then came to stand near him. Shayne laid his socks on a chair next to him. Pan’arden watched him as he sat himself down; she spoke a little while longer to the native human then dismissed him and walked over with her tiger following close behind.

  ‘You are up very early,’ she commented as she leant on the edge of the table and peered down at the socks he had on the chair. The tiger sat in close proximity, between her and Shayne. Thyman also looked at the socks, leaning in to sniff them. Shayne could not help but swallow at the closeness of the creature; it then looked oddly at him, twisting her large head in an expression that could only be interpreted as curiosity.

  ‘Why are the Star Ta’Orian’s afraid of Thyman?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ Shayne said not wanting to move, but knowing the creature was safe. ‘Call it a conflict of wills.’

  ‘She is not a wild animal, Afra’hama,’ Pan’arden commented with a slight chuckle. ‘She is a Maltat and would only attack someone if they attacked me.’ Shayne wanted to reach out and touch her, but something inside warned him against it.

  ‘We could have got someone to wash your clothes for you,’ Pan’arden motioned to the socks. She noticed that the Earthmen did not change their clothes and did not seem to have any spare changes, though Shayne did have one of his utility uniforms in his pack.

  ‘There is no need; our clothes do not ever need washing, but they should be aired out on the odd occasion, especially after a dusty horse ride.’ Pan’arden accepted this as she came to accept all of their strangeness.

  ‘There are baths available as well, unless Star Ta’Orians do not need to be washed either,’ she half laughed at her little joke before her face returned to a formal expression. ‘I thought I should tell you in case you have not been informed.’ Shayne was aware of this, though he had not had one at Keemaíth; he was never given enough free time to bathe. He could not smell anything over the stench of leather and horse, and doubted if the lionman High Captain could either; unless their snout-like noses were more sensitive than humans. Pan’arden was then called by Madan’rah, so she said farewell to Shayne and headed to the other lionman.

  Shayne sat quietly as he watched the room slowly fill, from servants to military personnel running errands. Food was brought out for him by servants, as he took it they would bow and back away; their faces filled we fear and awe. Shayne ate his meal in relative peace. Not long after having his fill Hanniver and Kíe came into the hall side-by-side with the Tasmanian tiger trotting behind. The Brigadier briefly excused himself to allow Red Rocket outside. Kíe greeted a few people before he came joined Shayne, smiling as always. The lionman scholar looked over at Shayne’s plate hoping that there were leftovers. The empty plate left him to look around to see if anything had been prepared. Rolls of bread and fruit were placed in the central table. Kíe took Shayne’s plate and went over to help himself. He returned with a mountain of food, where he sat down and began to bite into a roll, an expression of uttermost contentment upon his face.

  ‘I assume they do not teach manners at these teaching halls of yours,’ Hanniver said as he returned and sat next to Kíe with his own plate filled with a generous helping, the scamscar parroting his comment in the Common Tongue. Kíe glanced across at the Brigadier.

  ‘How come he has meat?’ he protested in mock outrage when he saw the Earthman’s plate.

  ‘Because he is the honoured guest of the Dídrand of Palerman, not an over educated parasite!’ Shayne automatically replied. Kíe took a small knife from his belt and took a slice of Ox-Beef from the plate. Hanniver looked at his food for a moment, stunned; when he recovered he glared across at Kíe who had a cheeky grin as he stuffed the meat into his mouth. Hanniver then reached over and stole one of Kíe’s cheese rolls. Kíe tried to make a serious face but failed terribly. Hanniver shook his head and laughed.

  ‘You’re such a teenager,’ the Brigadier broke open the roll and took a bite. The robot went to translate but Hanniver signalled with his hand and it stopped.

  ‘I think he’s still a t
eenager,’ Shayne added, ‘by Dífrun reckoning.’

  ‘That would explain it,’ Hanniver laughed. He then gave Red Rocket the remaining slices of his meat and Kíe’s face fell as he watched the creature happily scoffed down the scraps. The expression made the Brigadier laugh all the more.

  All the Earthmen had awoken and had their share of breakfast before they were told that they were ready to leave. The sun had risen above the walls and the horses were ready and waiting for them; lined up beside the enormous lionmen warhorses were the much smaller human breed horses, one for each of the Earthmen. A beautiful chestnut was brought forth with a highly decorated saddle by a male lionman soldier in impressive gilded armour Shayne had not seen before. He towered over those who were around him: both human and lionmen, and he had a great white tiger by his side. Pan’arden was with him; both tigers were standing side-by-side, between their masters. His armour was highly adorned by their standards; with bronze plating and more intricate silver decorative patterns on the chest plate and shoulder guards. He had a red robe that went down to the ground and his helmet which he held in one hand had a large red plume.

  Shayne stopped at the top of the stairs; Kíe on one side and Madan’rah on the other. He looked down on the group of soldiers and their horses at the bottom of the steps. The native general bowed his head slightly to Shayne.

  ‘I am Vash Dominlor[9] Tay’mearan. The Varda of Bohaníde sends orden blessings to the Afra’hama, and a gift.’ Kíe encouraged Shayne forward with a slight nudge. He walked down, stopping just before the bottom few steps so that he was not completely dwarfed by the great figure of the Bohaníde General. Shayne’s black Starborn parade uniform was a stark contrast to the brightly dressed soldier. He stood proud in the shadow of the native general whose fierce yellow eyes were as formidable as his dark calculating gaze. The Vash Dominlor’s expression did not change but he marvelled at the human’s courage. He broke the stance and bowed again to the Earthman, this time deeper. All the other lionmen warriors present also bowed with their heads lowered.