The Falcoran’s Faith

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “This is only for when you want to use it,” Faith said. “Otherwise, you can sleep in the big bed with me, right here.” Faith sat down on the bed and patted one of the pillows.

  Bubbles looked at the pillow a couple of feet from where she stood, then she scrunched her body up like an accordion. A moment later she shot into the air and across the bed, landing lightly on the pillow with a smug expression on her little face.

  Faith gaped in surprise, then laughed out loud. “You are the cutest thing,” she said, reaching over to pet Bubble’s long, bright red fur. “I’m going to go take a bath now. Want to come?”

  Bubbles tilted her head curiously. “Don’t know what a bath is, huh? Well, come on, I’ll show you.”

  Bubbles scrambled up Faith’s arm to her shoulder. Once Faith was sure that she was settled, she got up and went into the bathroom, excited to take a real bath for the first time in months. She flipped the taps on, grabbed some towels, and set Bubbles down on the side of the tub. She carefully avoided looking in any of the mirrors while she got undressed and climbed in.

  She sighed with pleasure as she lay back in the hot water. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed this luxury that she was almost surprised by how good it felt. She watched Bubbles sitting happily on the edge of the tub with her eyes half closed in a light doze, and thought about the Falcorans.

  She liked them. A lot. And she was attracted to them, which had taken some getting used to. She also felt safe with them. She didn’t really understand why she felt their emotions, or why they felt hers, but she assumed it had something to do with her being their Arima. All she knew about Arimas was that they mated with three men. That alone was enough for her to know she wanted nothing to do with it, regardless of how much she liked the Falcorans.

  Luckily, the Falcorans hadn’t indicated that they wanted more from her than friendship. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if she asked them to tell her more about the whole Arima thing.

  She looked at Bubbles, smiling when the little red fur ball started making little popping noises in her sleep. She guessed that was her version of snoring, and had to stifle her laughter so she didn’t wake Bubbles up.

  ***

  The Falcorans spent the next couple of hours reading reports and reviewing the Eyrie’s status in preparation for their departure. When they were finished, Tristan was satisfied that everything had been done perfectly in their absence.

  “What’s bothering you, Tristan?” Gray asked when they were alone in the auxiliary control room.

  “That obvious?” Tristan asked.

  “To us, yes,” Gray replied.

  “Do you remember when Faith thanked us for the raktsasa, and she said that it would help her to feel safe, and not alone?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Jon said, but Gray frowned. “We never considered that, did we?”

  “Not really, no,” Tristan said. “Even though we knew about it, we never stopped to really think about it. She had an identical twin. We, of all people, should be able to imagine the loneliness and emotional pain she must be suffering from such a loss. Just the thought of losing one of you makes me physically ill.”

  “You’re right, or course,” Gray said. “We should have given more thought to that than we did, and it makes me ashamed that she gave us credit for it.”

  “Yes, me as well,” Tristan said. “Just when I was beginning to think that claiming her might be good for us, I realize that it might not be so good for her.”

  “You think that we are not worthy of her,” Jon said.

  “Yes, Jon, I do think that,” Tristan said. “Perhaps our experience has damaged us in ways that we will never overcome. We should be unable to think of anything other than Faith’s well being, and what is best for her. Yet we continually put ourselves first. That is not the Jasani way.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Jon agreed. “But we have months ahead of us to become worthy. I ask that you not make any binding decisions now, brother. Give us all some time.”

  “Agreed,” Tristan said. He smiled faintly. “See how quickly I agree when it is something I want?”

  “Are you saying that you want to claim her?” Gray asked.

  “No,” Tristan said. “Not yet, anyway. But, I do want her in our lives.”

  Jon and Gray said nothing. Tristan was coming around, slowly, but surely. There was hope.

  “It appears that all is ready for our departure in the morning,” Tristan said. “If neither of you can think of anything else we need to do, I suggest we go get ready for dinner.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Darlene got out of her ground car and took a long, slow, deep breath before walking up the gravel drive to Doc’s house. The near portion of the house had been transformed into a clinic by Doc many years earlier. He’d treated both humans and animals a couple of times a week, when he wasn’t acting as the Dracons’ resident vet for the ranch. Now, with the new clinic next to the Lobos’ house, and the larger med center in the garrison, the old clinic was no longer in use. Doc still hadn’t decided whether to convert it back to living space, or leave it as it was.

  She passed the old clinic and followed the narrow walkway around to the other side of the house, turning the corner in time to see Doc step outside with a platter holding a couple of large steaks. She smiled to herself when she realized he was cooking out doors again on an old fashioned grill that he called a barbecue. She didn’t know where he got some of his strange ideas, but she admitted that this was one that she liked.

  “Hello there,” Doc said, as she walked toward him. He slapped the steaks down on the grill and put a cover over them.

  “Hi, Doc,” she replied. “Outdoor cooking again?”

  “You love it and you know it,” Doc said, smirking at her.

  “So long as there are no dirt or bugs in the food, it’s acceptable.”

  Doc grinned, not buying it for a moment. He knew her too well.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked.

  “Not if it’s that Jasani rum you like so much,” Darlene said, wrinkling her nose. “That stuff’s strong enough to knock a bull on it’s ass.”

  “Since I’ve used it for just that reason a time or two I won’t argue that,” Doc said with a wink. “Don’t worry, though. I got some nice, normal, human strength wine.”

  “In that case, yes, I’d like some,” Darlene said.

  “Go on and sit down,” Doc said, gesturing toward the table on the small brick patio. Darlene pulled a chair out and sat down, her eyes going to the valley below where several cows and horses grazed peacefully on the blue grass. The air was a little chilly, but the skies were clear, the lowering sun still bright and warm.

  “Here ya go,” Doc said, putting a glass of pale yellow wine in front of her. He set the bottle in the center of the table and took the chair opposite her.

  “Thank you,” she said, before raising the glass to her nose. She smiled, then took a sip. “Good thing I like it, considering what that bottle must have cost you,” she said as she set the glass back on the table.

  “What’s money for ‘cept to spend?” Doc said, not quite meeting her eyes. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, then got up to check the steaks.

  Darlene frowned, watching him raise the cover, then put it back without touching the steaks. “You seem nervous,” she said when he sat back down.

  “Nervous?” Doc asked as though he’d never heard the word. She waited.

  “Well, darlin’ Darlene, I figured that since I know all your deep and darks, it was only fair that you know mine,” he said.

  Darlene picked up her glass and turned it in her hands, then took a sip before setting it back on the table. “Doc, you don’t owe me anything,” she said. “I’m not saying I don’t want to know your story. But you don’t have to tell me. Not now, or ever, if you don’t want to.”

  Doc smiled and shook his head. “Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself,” he said.

  “Meaning?” she aske
d.

  “Meaning what you just said, I already knew,” Doc said. “The truth is, I’ve never told anyone my story before, nor have I been tempted to, though plenty of people have asked. There are some, here and there, who know parts of it, but what they know they didn’t learn from me. I gotta warn you, it’s not a pretty story. You don’t have to hear it if you don’t want to.”

  Darlene understood what he was telling her. It amazed her that he trusted her so much. And knew her so well. The truth was that she would have declined to hear almost anyone else’s history. Such things held zero interest for her in general. But Doc was different. When she was with Doc, she was different.

  “Of course I want to hear,” Darlene said.

  Doc nodded, then slapped his hand against his knee and stood up. “Well then, let’s get this dinner on the table, and I’ll start bending your ear, will that work?”

  “Yes, of course,” Darlene said, standing to follow him into the house. She helped prepare the salad and set the table while Doc turned the steaks. Twenty minutes later they sat down to eat, the sun just kissing the horizon.

  “If you get cold, we can move this shindig inside,” Doc said.

  “I’ll let you know,” Darlene said. “Are you ready for the trip to Onddo?”

  “Not hardly,” Doc replied, grinning as he cut into his steak.

  “We leave for the spaceport at dawn,” Darlene pointed out.

  “It only takes me a couple minutes to toss a few things in a bag,” Doc said with a shrug. “I don’t need much.”

  Darlene nodded. They’d spent so much time on the Vyand over the past couple of years that they both had their own rooms, and kept some of their clothes and toiletries there.

  They ate a while in comfortable silence. When Doc finished his steak he pushed his plate back and sat quietly, watching the moon rise.

  “Have you ever heard of a world named Albion?” he asked.

  Darlene shook her head.

  “No reason why you should, I suppose,” Doc said with a sad smile. “It was destroyed about two hundred years ago by the Xanti.”

  “That was your home world?” Darlene asked. She already knew that Doc was far older than most people might guess, though she’d never asked him how old he was. Partly because she was used to the astronomical number of years that the Jasani lived. But mostly, his age was simply irrelevant to her.

  “Albion was one of the most advanced worlds in existence at that time,” Doc continued. “Physiologically, we are the same as Earth humans, right down to the same DNA. How that happened was a mystery we hadn’t yet solved. Unlike the humans of Earth, we Albions were peaceful, dedicating ourselves as a race to the science of healing. When we began traveling the stars, it was to share our medical knowledge with other worlds. Our goals were all geared toward fighting, and conquering, whatever diseases plagued each race we met. Cancers, birth defects, aging, whatever was needed.”

  Doc paused and refilled his wine glass, then drank half of it down before continuing. “Then as now, the Xanti had a reputation for buying and selling new technologies, which we didn’t have, so we were surprised and curious when they requested a meeting with us. The Xanti sent an emissary to our Executive Council with an offer. They would build research and healing centers on a dozen worlds of our choice, if we would develop four race-specific diseases for them. They’d fund the entire project, with hefty bonuses all around for those involved. All we had to do was come up with a way to wipe out entire populations of a few worlds that had gotten on their bad side.”

  “Good God,” Darlene said hoarsely as she crossed herself, her Catholic upbringing suddenly coming to the fore. She’d never been the most diligent student, but even she knew of World War IV, the war that, literally, ended all wars on Earth after two third world governments used bio weapons against each other. If the remaining governments hadn’t stopped hostilities immediately and worked together to halt the spread of the bio-engineered diseases that had been released, there would likely be few, if any, humans left on Earth.

  “Yep, that’s pretty much how we felt about it,” Doc agreed. “Albions were dedicated to healing. All beings, all races, no matter what they were or where we found them. We were healers. And the Xanti wanted us to commit genocide not just once, but four times. We declined their offer, and not very politely. I was among those present for that particular meeting, and I personally dragged the emissary out of the building and tossed him on his ass into the street. I told him in no uncertain terms never to set foot on Albion again.” Doc shrugged and reached for his wine again. “My temper was much worse then than it is now.”

  Darlene smiled faintly. Doc’s temper was legendary, though for all of his yelling, bluster, and swearing, he had the gentlest of hands of anyone she’d ever known.

  “The emissary told me I’d be sorry for not accepting the Xanti’s offer,” Doc continued after emptying his wine glass again. “I can’t say that I was, though. We could never have done what they wanted, regardless of what they offered us, or threatened us with. But I was sorry that we didn’t realize who we were dealing with. I’ve been sorry for that every day since.”

  Doc emptied the wine bottle into his glass, then sat holding it for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “I had a family,” he said. “A wife, a daughter, and a son. My daughter, Gillian, fell in love with a Dracon male-set. They got married and, after a couple of years, they had babies. Three precious little boys. Gillian and her Rami, who were Garen, Trey and Val’s middle brothers, had come to Albion to visit for a few weeks when the babies were a few months old. The afternoon of the day that I sent the Xanti emissary none too gently on his way, we were all scheduled to leave Albion. My wife and I, and our son, were going back to Jasan with Gillian and the boys for an extended visit. I got a call at the last minute to go to Nadiar to help with a viral outbreak.

  “Instead of getting on the transport with my family, I boarded another ship for Nadiar, after promising to meet them on Jasan as soon as I could. Four hours later, the transport had a mysterious accident, killing everyone on board. Three minutes after that, to the second, Albion was destroyed.” Doc raised the wine glass to his mouth, then put it back on the table with a decisive click without drinking. “If you look up the official cause for Albion’s destruction you’ll see that it was hit by a giant asteroid. But that’s not true. I can’t prove it, but I know it.”

  Darlene was stunned. She’d guessed long ago that Doc was nearly as wounded as she was, if not more, but this was so much worse than she could have possibly imagined. She reached for her wine glass with a shaky hand, glad that it was only half full. Otherwise she would have slopped it all over herself.

  “I had nothing after that,” Doc said. “I came to Jasan because this was as close as I could get to my family. My home was gone, my world was gone, as was everyone I’d ever cared about. After a few decades Garen, Trey and Val tracked me down and offered me a place here on the ranch. I turned ‘em down at first, but after a while I changed my mind. I’m a born healer. I had to start doing something with myself or simply give up, and there ain’t much give up in me. You know the rest.”

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” Darlene said. “I know that’s dumb and trite, but honestly, I am sorry. I cannot begin to imagine how much pain you’ve suffered.”

  “You’d think that after two hundred years the memories would have lost their sting,” Doc said with a slow shake of his head.

  Darlene took a last bite of her salad and put her fork down, chewing thoughtfully. She swallowed, then looked Doc straight in the eye. “How long did you blame yourself for what happened?”

  “You do cut right to the chase, don’t you?” he said with a soft chuckle. Then he sighed. “I’m not sure that I’ve stopped, darlin’. Or that I should. What the Xanti did to Albion wasn’t something I could have changed and I know that. But I was the reason they went after that transport. That emissary wanted me, personally. I’ve come to realize that the emissary I to
ssed out that day was more than likely a Xanti in a bio-suit. If I’d held my temper with him, my family would still be alive.”

  The what if game. Darlene was excruciatingly familiar with it.

  “You plan to go to Xantara, don’t you?” she asked.

  “I have to,” he said with a shrug. “I’m no warrior, you know that. But I’m a damn good doctor, so I’m sure I can make myself useful. I want to be there when the Xanti are put down like the bugs they are. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean,” Darlene said. “Your reasons are better than mine, but I want to see it too. I want the satisfaction of knowing that those behind the creation of the Controllers are unable to hurt anyone else, ever again.”

  “Hurt is hurt, darlin’,” Doc said. “Ain’t no sense in comparing our tragedies against each other to see which was worse.”

  Darlene nodded. “Why did you want me to know this?”

  “I want you to know about me, as I know about you,” Doc said. “But it had to be your choice this time. You never had much choice in whether or not to tell me what happened to you, down to the most intimate details.”

  Darlene’s pulse sped up. Her choice. They were no longer doctor and patient, and hadn’t been for a long time. He was telling her, again, that whether or not they took it to the next level was up to her. She wanted to. She’d wanted to for a long time. But what if it didn’t work out? And what about that mysterious feeling she had that it would be a mistake to commit to anyone, even though every other particle of her being said otherwise?