Gasps and murmurs filled the room, with all eyes fixed on a sight that none had ever before witnessed, an entire world caught in the moment of its death. It seemed almost a mercy when the image of the planet's grey and smoldering corpse disappeared, and another shimmered into view where it had been.
The face of a being, unlike anything that anyone in the room had ever seen, now sat in the circle like a reflection in a mirror. The being had three dark eyes and shiny, rust-colored skin with a ridged, grooved texture. Its voice had an undertone like an electrically powered flute or saxophone. It stared out from across space and time and spoke: "Your thoughts give us the name 'Shapers.' That is how you know us—or how some of you may know us again."
The murmur persisted and the air retained a nervous charge. Stepping away from the stage and back down in front, Norah could swear that the questions on everyone's lips were swirling around her like living things. Is this really a Shaper? Are they still alive somewhere? Will they return? Are they more powerful than we are? Will they demand something of us? What do they want? Will they expect to become our masters?
Norah reached a position where she could almost look the Shaper's image right in its shiny, coal-like eyes, and it continued. "The psychic intrusion that you experienced was our machine teaching itself to communicate with you. Each of you now hears this in your own language. Our species was very old, and with age should come maturity and wisdom. Yet we deemed ourselves more wise than we truly were. We thought ourselves the masters of the galaxy. We saw the galaxy and the other life within it as our possessions to treat as we saw fit. We even intervened in evolution itself, transforming species to serve our purposes. Some of you may be the result of our tampering with other life. In our arrogance we made you what we wished you to be. It is our hope that you found your own way after we destroyed ourselves. Civilizations fall when they make one single obsession their reason for being. For some it is greed, for others superstition or fear. Our obsession was power."
There was a swelling of the murmurs in the room, and the image of the Shaper paused as if it knew there would be. Her eyes still riveted on the visage from eons gone by, Norah could make out the voice of Vashar from up on stage, admonishing the group, "Silence, all! Please be silent! Listen! Hear it out! Please listen!"
The voices of the gathering subsided and the Shaper began again. "We lived not for life, but for power. And it was the thing for which we lived that killed us. When our power surpassed our wisdom, we died. It is the oldest story in the universe, one that you may know from your own histories. At the twilight of our species, we took apart our technologies and scattered the parts across space. You are even now discovering what we left behind. Each device, every part of each device, contains this warning we leave to you. Whether or not you are the result of our intervention in life, you have it in yourselves to be greater and wiser than we. Do not go the way our species did. Do better than we did. Live not for obsessions or pride or arrogance. Live for life. From the universe from which we took so much, we leave this one last gift, this final warning. You will discover other things that we left. Do not worship us. Do not emulate us. Simply live and be better."
Now the voices in the room faded until the murmur was a collection of barely audible whispers. The Shaper repeated its final words as if they were a prayer: "Live and be better."
And with this last pronouncement, the picture of the Shaper faded like the voices of those viewing it, and was gone. The ancient machine returned to its former state. Its humming grew fainter, the lights in its circuits grew softer. It had, if not shut itself off, at least put itself to sleep.
Norah stood still, continuing to watch the now-empty space in the ring of the alien machine as if a picture were still there. She turned the Shaper's words around in her mind, measuring their meaning and their import. All around her, what had been an anxious murmur of voices from a dozen species now thundered up into an excited din of more emotions than anyone could name. Beings rose from their seats, exclaiming things that Norah could barely make out, arguing with each other. Behind her, King Dantar and Gwendolyn Rush pulled together in a silent embrace, and behind them the royal guards stood mystified.
Somewhere in the midst of all this, Norah felt a presence at her side and a strong but soft hand clasping hers. She looked beside her and up into the gentle, handsome, and reassuring features of Vashar. He said nothing, only gave her a little smile and a little squeeze of the hand. Words failing her, she only smiled softly back.
______________
The estate staff had thoughtfully put out plates of the remaining food from the reception in Norah's guest suite. Bereft of sleep after the display of the Shaper, Norah welcomed the distraction of food from what would otherwise be a long night of pacing across her suite and perhaps up and down the halls of Lord Vashar's house in her nightgown. There were still so many questions, not the least of which was what had finally destroyed the Shapers, or whatever they really called themselves. The being in the hologram said that they fell by their own hand, but did not name the power that had brought them down. He said only that their destruction was of their own making. This, thought Norah, was perhaps all to the good. If the Shaper had said exactly what it was that destroyed his people, she could predict what Earth, Sarma, and other planets would likely do next. In all probability they would go looking for it, or try to recreate it: for there are few powers in the universe to rival the curiosity of intelligent life. The Shapers, Norah thought, surely knew what they were doing. By keeping the nature of their doom a mystery, they were preventing the doom of others—at least until the time that another race stood where the Shapers themselves once did.
As she finished a pastry and a glass of wine at her table, she heard a whirring at the portal. Her brow wrinkling, she look up and called, "Yes?"
"It is Vashar," said a voice from right outside. "Am I disturbing you?"
Now here, she had to admit, was a distraction of a different sort, and one she found as welcome as the food. She stood up from the table, adjusted her nightgown while wishing that there were less of her for the silken garment to flow over, and went to the door. She pressed the handle and let the portal slide open, and there he was on the other side, clad only in a satiny robe discreetly tied at his waist, of the same burgundy hue and gold filigrees as his formal clothing. Lord, but this Lord Vashar was a beautiful sight to behold.
Norah could see on his face and hear in his voice the same restlessness as she felt. "You couldn't sleep, either?"
"After what transpired this evening, I expect there must be an outbreak of insomnia everywhere. May I come in?"
She stood aside for him. "Of course," she said. "Please, I welcome the company."
"As do I," said Vashar, stepping into the suite and letting the portal slide closed behind him. "Much of the memory of your life that the Shaper device gave me has already faded," he said. "I suppose it is for the best, though many feelings that I sensed from you still remain. For example, the mysteries of the universe have a way of arousing your appetite." He glanced over at the table and the thorough job she had done with the reception leftovers.
A bit embarrassed, Norah admitted, "I think science and food have always been my most intimate relations."
Vashar smiled, his complete lack of judgment also remaining from when their minds were together. "We all have our distractions." At the moment, he was grateful that the tying of his robe concealed his own stiffening distraction below. He pointed to the wide picture window a few steps from the canopy bed that was big enough for four Sarmians. The window had a deep and generously cushioned sill, which was obviously meant for sitting. "Shall we at least attempt to relax and talk?"
Norah nodded and joined him in the window, outside of which lay the grounds of the estate, lit with night torches and overhung by the spread of stars in the night sky.
Vashar said, "I also expect that the shared experience of beings from very disparate worlds joining minds this evening will be spoken of for a long
time yet. Along with the shared interest in the sciences, there were many old misunderstandings and animosities in that ballroom. Though not all the worlds have been at war, there have been quarrels and disputes of all sorts in the galaxy. Some things long-buried may come anew to the surface after this night."
"I'll bet," replied Norah. "But if they do, I hope at least people will remember what the Shaper said about living for life, about doing better than the Shapers did. I keep going back to that point about growing older and stronger, but not wiser. And I keep going over all the things the Shaper said can destroy worlds: greed, superstition, fear. Earth went through all that and more."
"And yet, here is humankind, out among the stars," said Vashar. "And here you and I are now, to think upon it all."
"I'm glad," said Norah.
"As am I," Vashar said. "And I think I see something more in what the Shaper device did; another purpose beyond the mere processing of languages and delivery of a message. The translation of languages need not come with such intimacy, such empathy. I think it was meant to do more than that alone. Think of what happened among us here. Then think of what the Shaper said. There is, I believe, a direct relationship between the medium and the message."
"What?" she wondered aloud.
"In bringing diverse minds together, making us live as one with our differences, the Shapers made us live one another's lives as we ourselves live them. To know the hearts of others is the antidote to aggression and hatred and fear. Where there is understanding, these things wither away. I think that was what the Shapers finally intended for us. I think that was their dying wish. When we take that experience from this place into the galaxy beyond, who is to say what may happen next?"
"Maybe something good," Norah guessed.
"Perhaps so," said Vashar.
A bit of time passed with the two of them just sitting together looking out and up at the vast wash of stars beyond Sarma and reflecting on the ripples of discovery that must surely be passing among them even now. By this time the media had enthusiastically broken the story of the activation of the device and what the Shaper said, and there was no doubt that it was all anyone was talking about on a thousand planets. Norah could hardly remember what she had said to the media people on her way out of the presentation. She only hoped that she sounded coherent and intelligent. She supposed she would have to log onto the galactic nets to see how the story was playing out—but that could wait for tomorrow. At the moment, everything to her was about this night—and the company sharing it with her.
She switched her attention from the stars back to Vashar when he said to her, "Norah, I should very much like to discuss what else was learned today."
Norah gulped. Her heart fluttered. " 'What else...?' " she repeated.
"There is more," said Vashar. "Let us not pretend it is not so. When our minds were together I saw everything about you, all that you are. I saw what science means to you, and the importance of your work. And I saw something more in you. I experienced from inside your being how kind and caring you are. You care about life, about other people, about the future. But there is something missing from your life. There is a deep desire in your heart, a desire to know a man of my type. Such men on Earth have never seen you, or wanted you only as a friend. They did not want what they did not know. I know you, Norah. I may not remember the full content of your life, but I know the content of your heart. I liked what I saw in you. I offer what you have long desired, the fulfillment of your desire—if you will accept it."
In a moment as awe-inspiring as the appearance of the Shaper, Vashar gently took Norah's hand and kissed her wrist, making her feel like another Shaper machine with its circuits humming and glowing to life. With his other hand, he pulled open just the upper part of his robe and moved Norah's hand to his chest.
At the feeling of her hand meeting the wonderful plates of his chest, Norah inhaled as if she were breathing in all the life in the galaxy. Vashar let her run her hand along his chest and savor his hard, smooth, warm male flesh, while at the same time he ran his fingertips up her arm to her shoulder and sifted his fingers through her hair until they came to rest on her cheek. She was aware of nothing now but her own breathing and him.
Sensing how much he was pleasing her, Vashar brought his hand down her shoulder again, took hold of one strap of her gown, and pulled it down, exposing more of her soft flesh and baring a little more of her breast. He stroked the skin of her breast as if playing a love song on a living musical instrument, and a coo of delight escaped her lips in response.
Vashar took his hand away and, while she almost hypnotically continued caressing his chest, he undid the belt of his robe, beneath which lay nothing but what Norah most wanted. With the hand that had partially exposed her breast, he took her free hand again and guided it beneath the fabric of his robe to grasp something far more wonderful and awesome than any work of technology. She breathed more loudly, almost gasping, at the amazement of her fingers enclosing something long and thick and fantastically stiff. "Ooohhh...," she sighed, pulling the ample foreskin up over the delicate tip and feeling the slickness exude from it onto her fingertips. Vashar's eyes penetrated her just as the thing she was grasping soon would. He smiled sweetly, pleased that he was pleasing her and wanting to please her all the more.
He leaned slowly forward and brought his mouth to hers. He returned the embrace of her fingers under his robe with the embrace of his mouth and the sensuous sliding of his tongue. Norah moved the hand on his chest to his nipple, which she found deliciously hard, and Vashar deepened the kiss. He kept their mouths together for a long time, one kiss melting into the next while she continued to stroke and fondle the hardness of his member. At the end of one long kiss, he let his lips slip away and hovered his face close to hers, and whispered, "Let us to bed, then. All night and on into morning."
Norah almost hated to release what she was holding down there. Only the thought of what he meant to do to her with it enabled her to let him help her up and lead her from the window to the bed.
She lay on the spread and watched Vashar stand at the bedside and slip the robe from a body that she found more exquisite than she had imagined. Every immaculately cut muscle fitted together as perfectly as the pieces of the Shaper machine. A triangle of hair adorned the middle of his chest, and from a bush between his beauteous legs hung a bough of maleness, its head and opening just poking out of the turtleneck of foreskin. Orbs ripe and filled with man-juice nestled in a luscious sac of skin at the base of the bough. Vashar stroked and tugged on his zazansa as he had let her do, promising her the bliss that only a perfect man could bring her. Norah's whole body trembled at what awaited her now. Vashar climbed onto the bed with her and delicately stripped away her nightgown, bra, and panties, discarding them onto the floor along with his robe. He let her settle prone onto the bed, and parted her thighs for access to her pink and slippery womanhood. He lowered his face down there and began to partake of it.
Norah poured sighs and whines and whimpers of incoherent rapture into the air over the bed as Vashar took her with his lips and tongue. His tongue flickered wetly up and down her folds and its tip expertly served the pulpy knob of her womanly joy. Norah tossed her head, bombarded with ecstasy as if she were a primeval planet bombarded with meteors. Vashar licked her sex up and down, stoking his tongue in and out of her opening, and returned again and again to her joy bud, hitting her with pleasure that, if she had the means to express it, she could only describe as "cosmic". As if this were not wondrous enough, he changed his tactics, switching from licking to kissing and sucking. He enveloped her sex with his mouth and drew the petals of her womanhood into it, almost making her scream. Her sounds melted into half-sobs at this deep kissing of her most intimate place.
He finished with a few last, long licks on her opening before at last coming up on all fours, moving the breathtaking length and stiffness between his legs to her wetness, and aiming the head of it where his mouth had been. In a dizzying moment of eup
horia, Norah permitted Vashar to lay the utter perfection of his body on top of hers and to slip his tool all the way inside her.
All the wonders of the universe that Norah had ever known were as nothing compared to the wonder of Vashar lying upon her and briskly, urgently pumping in and out of her. The uncanny sense of shared selves that accompanied the finishing of the Shaper device seemed a small thing now. The sharing of their bodies was a thrill that Norah could not measure or quantify. Vashar's body—this delicious, heaving thing of muscle and hair—and his tool—this phenomenal, hard, probing and thrusting thing of purest joy—became for her not only her entire being but her entire cosmos. Every thrust propelled her into orbit. She kneaded the straining and releasing muscles of his back and buttocks, urging him on, and he gave her everything that his breathtaking body had to offer. She squeezed the rising and falling mounds of his perfect bottom, making him grunt and huff in her ears, muttering what she could only guess were sex-drenched curses of passion in some alien tongue. At the sound of her whimpers from his pounding atop her, Vashar captured and plundered her mouth in kisses like burning meteors, taking her more like the warriors of his heritage than like the urbane lord that he had raised himself up to be. He pounded his throbbing piece in and out of her as if to take the place of every magnificently beautiful man who had ever not wanted her. And Norah cried out as his every deep and savage thrust took away a moment of disappointment and fulfillment she had ever known.
Highlander's Need: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 4) Page 35