Howl of the Wolf (Heirs to the Throne Book 1)

by Diane Rapp

  “Donovan!” she screamed aloud and opened her eyes. She lay on a table in the recovery room, and Donovan was on the next table. His breathing seemed normal and his skin color looked healthy as he slept.

  Exhausted, Krystal relaxed, let herself drift.

  Noises filtered through a haze as Dr. Alexander barked orders. The sound of glass scraping the floor grated her nerves. What are they doing? Can’t they be quiet and let me sleep? She almost gathered enough strength to ask, but her mind drifted lazily between consciousness and sleep. Someone lifted her body, carried her away from Donovan. She felt too tired to object and grew calm when Maggie took her hand. Krystal slept with her fingers wrapped tightly in Maggie’s warm hand, finally feeling safe and protected.

  *****

  Donovan woke with a start. Trying to move, he strained against straps that restrained his body against the table.

  “What have you done to me?” he bellowed. “Are you completely incompetent?”

  Chella entered the room. She flashed a benign smile and recorded readings from the monitor above his head, unconcerned.

  Donovan growled, “Where’s that imbecile doctor? Get him immediately! That’s an order!” Chella arched one eyebrow and left the room.

  “That’s insubordination!” he shouted at the door. Dr. Alexander entered the room, picked up the data recorder and nodded.

  Donovan snarled, “Where’s Krystal? Where have you taken her? Let me loose! That’s an order!”

  Dr. Alexander’s placid expression remained unchanged. “As a patient, you are under my orders, Captain. Should you wish to be released, I suggest you demonstrate signs of self-control. When I’m convinced you are capable of managing your body, you will be released.” Alex continued to study the data recorder as Donovan strained against the restraints. With a sigh, he forced himself to breathe deeply, relax, and gain control.

  The doctor nodded approval. “Can you restrain your urge to destroy more equipment?”

  Donovan glared.

  “I interpret silence as an affirmative,” Dr. Alexander said and released Donovan. “Your new body is functioning normally.”

  After flexing his muscles, Donovan sat up without effort. “It aches,” Donovan commented gruffly. Truthfully, he’d never felt so much vitality. Stretching and moving, he systematically tested his new body. “I take it back. You’re not completely incompetent. Electronic stimulation gave this body better reflexes than my last one.”

  “We’re pleased with results thus far,” Dr. Alexander stated.

  “What happened during Transfer? You almost bungled that one. If it hadn’t been for Krystal…where is she?” Donovan jumped off the table rising to his full height. The doctor took no special notice, merely waved him off as though shooing a fly.

  “She’s sleeping. Quite an energy drain, you know. As for the Transfer, the equipment was sabotaged.” Alex spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, punching buttons on his microprocessor.

  “Sabotaged! Who sabotaged our equipment?”

  “Your blood pressure’s rising,” Alex warned. “A member of the crew replaced an essential circuit board with a faulty one, instigating a mechanical failure. The sabotage might have caused your death without Krystal’s intervention.”

  “Why would one of my men try to kill me?” Donovan felt hurt and betrayed.

  “He’s not one of your men. An Institute assassin replaced a member of the crew. Apparently, Krystal met him on the space station and mentioned she was joining the Zebulon. He interrogated her and left her for dead. When she survived, he used mental powers to force short-term amnesia on her mind. It nearly worked.”

  Remembering Jarrack’s face from Krystal’s memory he said, “It was the same assassin we’ve been tracking, Jarrack.”

  “Yes.”

  “Krystal saved my life.” The experience inside the crystal was more than a dream.

  Alex nodded. “She forced her mind into the equipment and judging from the mess she made of the lab, her powers are prodigious.”

  “We blasted the crystal apart to get out.”

  Alex held up a discolored shard of crystal. “Your blast created an interesting change in the atomic structure of the mendilium crystal…I need to study this…” He placed the shard into his pocket.

  “Krystal saved my life,” Donovan said.

  “You’re repeating yourself.” Alex shrugged. “You survived but our Transfer equipment was completely destroyed. On this non-technologic world, we can’t rebuild. It appears we’re stuck in these bodies with just one span to live.”

  Donovan shrugged. “We’ll adjust. At least we’re free to live as we choose. If you ask me Transfer was a curse rather than a blessing.”

  Dr. Alexander’s face clouded.

  Donovan failed to notice. “Jarrack concerns me. I want to see him now!” Donovan paced the recovery room like a caged animal.

  “Sorry, he’s gone,” the doctor said without emotion. “After attempting to breach security on the bridge, he escaped the ship, vanished into the wild.”

  Donovan scowled. “Can’t we ever get hold of that man? How did he infiltrate the crew? All our people passed extensive mental screening.”

  “That’s my fault. He substituted himself for a new crew member, killed him no doubt. After rescuing Krystal, you gave me orders to re-test everyone. I got distracted and forgot to test him. Of course, I believe that Jarrack forced me to forget.”

  “Forced you to forget? How?”

  “Jarrack has the power of mind control, a very dangerous ability in the wrong hands.”

  Donovan’s stomach tightened. “Mind control? The Institute allowed him to keep an outlawed ability?”

  “I imagine the Institute fostered his ability for their own purposes.” Dr. Alexander sounded tired. “His powers intensify after each Transfer, so Jarrack might have the most powerful mind control abilities in recorded history.”

  “Intensified after Transfer? Would the same apply to others?” Donovan scrutinized the doctor’s face.

  “You know the answer, Donovan. It’s one of your special talents. You intuitively guess answers other people miss.” Alex rubbed his forehead. “We all possess special abilities, enhanced by multiple Transfers. Our talents relate to skills perfected during past spans.”

  “Krystal?”

  “She’s powerful and diverse, due to experiences on different planets. She could be a powerful weapon against Jarrack.”

  Donovan’s face reddened. “I won’t use Krystal as a weapon or put her into jeopardy. That’s Institute thinking and I won’t have it here.”

  “We have little choice. Jarrack is dangerous to Krystal’s mental health. He caused her nightmares.” Dr. Alexander slumped into a chair. “If he gains control over Krystal’s mind, he won’t fail to use her powers against us.”

  “I’ll kill him if he touches her again!” Donovan growled.

  “I wish I’d examined that man when given the chance.” Dr. Alexander rubbed his forehead and looked beaten.

  “You’d be dead. We all know Jarrack had orders to kill you.” Donovan thought about the situation for a moment. “We need an edge, since we can’t use technology on this world. Determine which special talents our people possess, and we’ll practice using them. Our lives could depend on flexibility, awareness, and perhaps a little magic—or what would pass for magic on this planet. Compile a report on the crew.”

  Donovan swept out of the lab. Marching down the corridor, he felt invigorated, stronger, and more vital than ever before—a nice side effect of Transfer. He gazed at Krystal, asleep in her cabin. Golden curls spread out from Krystal’s face on the sleeping web, and firm breasts lifted seductively under a filmy garment that barely covered her body. Arousal shot through his young body like an electric charge, hot blood pounding through his loins and hormones driving him to take her.

  Closing the door, he leaned against the wall and cursed his teenage libido. It won’t do! I can’t act like a randy adolescent and make Krystal af
raid of me. I don’t remember previous Transfers making feel this way. Is this reaction caused by my feelings for Krystal?

  He considered the doctor’s information about enhanced abilities as he marched through the ship’s corridors. Strength surged through his body. Enjoying the sensation, he clicked off memories of his staff, cataloguing special abilities he’d previously ignored. Yes, they all possess special talents. Good!

  As he entered the bridge, surprised crewmembers turned to face him. Donovan said, “Don’t look shocked, I’m perfectly fit. Give me an update on ship’s status, the search for Jarrack, and any contact from the inhabitants of Drako.”

  The bridge crew scurried to obey orders. Pleased that his officers reacted to his commands without question, he scrutinized their faces. Are there others like Jarrack? Who might wait in disguise to turn against us? I’ll review all personnel files for potential spies.

  7 ~ Landing on Drako

  Jarrack dropped the heavy backpack and sipped tepid water from a water bottle. Unaccustomed to strenuous activity, his muscles cramped and his lungs burned. Bending down to rub a knotted calf muscle, he stared down at the ship, nestled in a box canyon surrounded by cliffs. Damn you, Krystal! Damn you, Donovan! You’ve ruined everything!

  He violently kicked a stone and watched it bounce down the hillside as he deliberately calmed his anger. I can’t take time now, but I’ll find a way to crush Donovan and seize control of the ship’s hyperspace communications. Studying the spaceport, Jarrack realized it would take a small army to accomplish the task.

  Immediate survival depended on putting distance between himself and the ship. Picking up the pack, he gritted his teeth against pain and continued climbing until he crested the summit. The desert stretched from the foot of the mountain like an ocean of shimmering heat. White tents stood in the shade of the mountain, but Jarrack saw sparse activity. Goats munched tufts of grass, a woman beat a carpet, and a small boy tossed stones.

  The boy suddenly ran toward the tents shouting and women appeared. Crouching behind a rock, Jarrack heard the sounds of hooves and ululating cries. Warriors, dressed in billowing robes in vibrant colors, swung curved swords above their heads, and the women greeted their men with whoops, whistles, and high chirping cries.

  Jarrack grinned at his future army, barbarous desert people armed to the teeth. The harsh desert hardened them into fierce warriors. With his ability he’d control their weapons and energy. He observed the camp from the shade of a scrubby pine. After a few days of study and a few nights of dream-shaping, they’d be ready to meet him. He chewed a ration bar, wondering what the women were like beneath those cumbersome robes. He’d find out soon enough.

  ********

  A gray wolf approached the mountain den in undue haste. Disturbed by the intrusion, Kriegen reared to his full height, nearly six-feet tall, standing on his hind legs. He seized his dagger and challenged the intruder.

  The gray flattened his ears, dropped to the ground, and cowered before Kriegen. Satisfied with the gray’s obeisance, Kriegen slid his weapon back into the sheath strapped to his chest. He remained standing, his retractable claws extended.

  The gray offered a mental apology, Many pardons, Kriegen, leader of the Forest Guardians. Forgive our rudeness and spare the line we host.

  Kriegen huffed, lowered himself to the ground, and licked his pads. We spare your ancestors. He sniffed, detecting the scent of the sacred lake. You come from the Council of Elders?

  The gray lifted his head but his ears remained flat. The Council sends us with a message of importance. A new fire-rock fell from the sky. Two-legs swarm from its center, and our scouts report hearing mind-speech.

  Kriegen’s ears flicked erect. This is indeed strange news. Two-legs have not dropped from the sky for many hostings and two-legs are incapable of speech. This was proven at the time of first contact. We host the ancestor who made that discovery. Kriegen scratched his left ear with his hind foot.

  The Council knows of your ancestor and calls your pack to investigate the matter.

  Kriegen licked his muzzle. Report that we will look at this new fire-rock.

  Tendra growled from her perch and Kriegen’s ears flattened.

  Our mate reminds us that proper hospitality was not offered. Accept our apologies. Your news caused a breach of courtesy.

  The gray glanced at the ledge where Tendra sat, her amber eyes glowing. The gray’s long tongue dangled as he yawned. We accept your hospitality and understand your delay in offering. The fault was due to our hasty approach.

  Kriegen led the gray into the heart of the cave. Tendra’s time for whelping a litter draws near, but her sister, Amber will provide fresh meat in her place.

  Tendra climbed slowly down from her ledge and Kriegen felt a pang of concern. She licked his nose and then ambled to greet their guest. Her bloated belly caused her to sway awkwardly as she moved.

  Welcome to the cave of the Forest Guardians. Tendra delivered the ritual greeting with ears held erect. Amber serves your needs.

  A large bitch with a shaggy black coat appeared. She delivered a cut of fresh meat to the gray and he feasted eagerly. Amber looked old. Her black ruff was streaked with white, and she hobbled on swollen legs. Amber’s current host was the oldest bitch of the pack. Kriegen knew her ancestor minds would dwell within a new host before another season passed. Tendra marked one of her own cubs as the new host, but Kriegen worried that the cub might not be mature enough.

  Amber met his glance with narrow eyes. This body will last long enough for the cub to be ready.

  We rejoice in the knowledge. Kriegen retreated to his sleeping ledge to avoid further rebuff from the aging bitch. Although eager to make the journey to view the new two-legs, Kriegen wanted to confer with Tendra. The gray finished his meal and sat patiently outside the cave entrance while Kriegen prepared for the journey.

  Tendra waddled to their ledge. Take Konig, our best tracker on your journey. The pack will stay to prepare our summer move, she advised Kriegen.

  He licked Tendra’s face. It is close to your whelping time and we don’t want you to be alone.

  Tendra growled. What good is a male during a whelp? He cowers and whines like a young cub. Leave us with Amber and attend to Council matters.

  Kriegen sighed. Be sure to keep your host near. We would grieve at the loss of your ancestor voices…

  Tendra snarled, and Kriegen backed away. Do not instruct us like a cub. The ancestor voices give us good advise in the matter. Don’t nag. As Tendra stretched and licked the pads of her paw, her tail twitched and her ears flicked.

  Kriegen saw bumps move across her belly. We will return before it is time to move the den or send Konig to help. He leaped down from the ledge.

  He felt worried. The first whelping for a young host could be difficult. Amber settled next to Tendra and said, Have courage. We are with you. The warmth of Amber’s mental voice reassured Kriegen. He resigned himself to his own task.

  *****

  Days passed in the spaceport without contact from the residents of Drako. Donovan’s scouts failed to find Jarrack, so he terminated the search. He avoided the crumbling structures in the spaceport, and his crew erected plasteel pods for temporary housing. The crew adapted to the gravity and atmosphere on Drako without problem as they dismantled the Zebulon and stored valuable equipment in a cave system.

  Everyone seemed delighted at the prospect of living a normal life except for Doctor Alexander. Since they landed he acted somber, jotting notes and frowning as he observed the crew at work.

  Donovan watched Krystal. A cool mountain breeze stroked her golden hair, whipping it wildly about her face. The annoying strands easily escaped a hair clip and stuck against her sweaty forehead. She hardly noticed, but he felt the familiar stirring of passion. After their mind-melding experience, they were inseparable. Donovan intended to marry her and begin a family as soon as his crew was safely settled.

  Sensing Donovan’s gaze, Krystal turned from her work
to smile in his direction. Her white teeth glistened and she blushed. Donovan knew she sensed his yearning but turned back to her work. He forced himself to return to his own chores.

  Dr. Alexander approached Donovan looking smug. He said, “I’ve completed my review of talents within the crew.”

  “Good, let’s look it over in my pod.” Donovan felt compelled to survey the landscape with uneasy eyes, feeling watched, as they walked toward the pod. A movement on the cliff above revealed a black wolf. The animal suddenly turned tail and disappeared, leaving Donovan excited by the glimpse of wildlife.

  Alex’s voice drew Donovan inside the pod. “I was correct in my theory, the intensity of individual talents is logarithmic according to their Transfer charts.” Alex appeared pleased.

  “Don’t talk in code, explain.”

  Alex chuckled. “We all have enhanced specific skills and interests, developed during spans of working at an occupation or hobby. The more life spans spent in a specific job, the better the skill. For instance, your leadership talent has been enhanced by two spans commanding a space ship, but your sports hobby intensified your physical prowess by a power of five. Naturally, your physical strength and speed multiplied with each Transfer.”

  Donovan looked skeptical. “So what does it mean in practical terms?”

  “Your readings indicate an exceptionally fast speed.”

  “I’m quick, so?” Donovan shrugged. “I move at the same speed as always.”

  The doctor narrowed his eyes and sighed. “Must I always prove my theories to skeptics?”

  “As captain of this expedition, you must prove them to me,” Donovan said, arching his eyebrow.

  Alexander dug into his pocket and produced an ancient-looking timepiece. “I borrowed this stop watch from Trenton, who collects such oddities. In bygone eras athletes timed themselves with a stop watch. We’ll time you while you perform a simple task.” He dumped a container full of pebbles onto the table. “Replace the pebbles as quickly as you can, concentrating on the task.”