WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) Read online

  She sniffed every scent and continued her pace. It had been best to get away, to help forget. Seeta had given birth off-season. Her firstborn cub had been sickly and ill and she had come to the den the day before to find it dead. Remembering her cub, she shivered, feeling the cold. The life in him was frail and weak, and he found it difficult to nurse, small and clumsy as he was. Seeta’s teats were unpleasantly full from the unused milk in them.

  Seeta knew the law. The dead must feed the living. And so it was that her cub — once the frail young life in him disappeared — had been eaten by the pack. Seeta had known it would happen. She had run deep into the woods, leaving her little son to his fate. Long Fang had later found her in the heart of the forest. It had taken him hours to convince her to return to their den. Seeta had returned to find her little cub gone, without a trace to mark his brief passage. Now she had no cub, and an emptiness inside that left her without purpose.

  She was beginning to feel that a cub was waiting for her at the man-ship. It was an odd impression, one that filled her with pleasure and anticipation. She decided not to tell Long Fang about it. He would snap and snarl and be angry. Could a cub be there, waiting for her? Seeta began to hurry, increasing the pace.

  Less than an hour later, the wolf pack arrived at Assurance. They surrounded the broken vessel, but stayed back. The wolves waited, their dark respectful eyes remaining on Long Fang. They were his pack; they would follow his lead.

  Long Fang stalked, moving slowly and cautiously, every sense on full alert, his ears twitching. His mate moved with him, and this he allowed. The man-ship was silent. Long Fang knew this circumstance: it flickered dimly in his memory, the sight, sound and smell of a broken man-ship. But there were other scents here, too. His nostrils quivered and his mouth salivated as he moved nearer and knew the thrilling smell of blood, human flesh and death.

  He froze suddenly, hearing the soft shadow of a sound within. It obviously came from a living creature, one so small and light of weight its tread made little noise.

  Unexpectedly, a small man-cub appeared from inside the ship, near Long Fang and his mate. It swayed unsteadily on its feet. It stood near the entry, watching the pack gather. One arm was bound up against its body, the other free, but there was nothing in its slender hand — the man-cub was unarmed and smelled of fresh blood. It was wounded. Beads of sweat stood out on its skin. Long Fang knew then that the creature was injured and in pain and would not fight death.

  Long Fang stared warily for a moment, his senses hyper alert. But there was no danger. It was safe, he decided, safe to eat this fresh meat. As he tensed, preparing to spring, to make the kill, the man-cub turned his head and looked straight into Seeta’s eyes.

  Trueborn! Inhuman!

  Without warning, Seeta leaped in front of the man-cub, growling and snarling. “No. He is mine. He is my cub.”

  The other wolves, restless with agitation, paced and skipped but remained where they were.

  Long Fang growled.”He is a man-cub and he is wounded.” Long Fang stressed the last word.

  “He is our cub.” She bared her teeth, daring him to dispute the fact.

  “He will become a man. Dangerous.”

  “Yes.” The others joined in. “He must die.” They whined, dancing back and forth with anticipation. It was impossible for the wolf pack to remain still with fresh food waiting to be eaten right there before them.

  “I will fight,” Seeta growled, mane bristling.

  The small clearing around Assurance was filled with large, snapping, snarling red wolves. A flurry of disagreement had divided the large predators and the outcome was still unclear. Every pack member could smell blood; their nostrils quivered, their mouths salivated. The wolf pack surrounded the broken vessel, hackles raised, teeth bared. Burning hunger threatened to overwhelm both their instinctive caution and the rigidly enforced compliance of their leader.

  The pack moved closer. A decision was being made and the outcome was as yet undecided.

  Would the man-cub live or die?

  Uncertain and shaky, Ash leaned against the portal of Assurance watching the wolves snarl and fight. Icom had begun transmitting a long list of information concerning the red wolves of Opan, but Ash had silenced it. He knew these wolves already, much better than Icom did. Ash considered running and hiding, but somehow he just couldn’t seem to move. He was drawn to the large female wolf, the animal whose skin he had inhabited. Her name was Seeta and she had recently lost her cub. Ash understood so much about the mother wolf. He empathized with her loss, a loss he also recently suffered. He watched the snarling battle, but still couldn’t tell who was winning. Would Seeta be able to save him?

  The she-wolf was in front of him, so close he could reach down and touch her. He wanted to touch her. Despite the burning of his wound and the dizziness, Ash still felt awed. It had been the most incredible thing to mind-touch a wolf. But it had also been completely natural, the connection he had made with the she-wolf, Seeta. He had lost his mother and she had lost her cub. They had met on the common ground of loss and despair and found understanding.

  Ash had not been able to mind-touch any of the other wolves, but with Seeta there had been full contact, more complete than any time with his wolfhound Tynan. He wasn’t sure how he had done it. It was a mystery that would be fascinating to solve. The other wolves began to close in. It looked like Seeta had lost her battle. Now he would never find out. Ash felt unaffected by the outcome. Strangely calm, cold as stone and weak as if just getting out of bed after a ten-day fever, he didn’t seem to care.

  Suddenly the biggest wolf jumped up beside Seeta. Its huge body was covered with thick red fur, its solid bunching muscles pressed warm against Ash’s leg. If he hadn’t been holding firmly to Assurance, Ash might have fallen with the weight and surprise of the animal’s touch. Snarling and growling, the large wolf’s ruff was on end. The other wolves whined, backing down and away.

  Blessed Jana. The wolves are not going to eat me. The thought made Ash feel even more light-headed. Sudden relief shocked him into action.

  Reaching into his bag, Ash drew out some food. He held out the round roll to Seeta, who took it daintily in her teeth. She didn’t eat it, but trotted over to the pack, placing it in front of them. In a flurry of snarling bodies and fur, the roll was gone. Ash moved inside the ship, and the wolves followed. It took some time, but he showed them where the foodstuffs were on every level, even the dried provisions in the hold storage areas. He was astounded by the wolves’ behavior. Now that he was apparently off the menu they were following him, wagging their tails and dancing with pleasure whenever he threw them food. Dispatching each morsel instantly, they swallowed without chewing.

  From the upper decks, Ash heard growling and tearing. The wolves were evidently fighting over something, but what had they found up there? “No!” he screamed, sprinting up the ramp to the control and observation deck, the pain in his arm momentarily forgotten.

  Ash saw a large wolf, his jaw set firmly into bare flesh, holding Sartha’s broken body by the neck. The wolf was skirmishing with another. In a macabre tug-of-war, the contending wolf had his long, white teeth solidly gripping one of her arms. Between them they were tearing Sartha apart; her legs had been severed entirely, her torso now free of them.

  “Stop,” Ash yelled, moving to throw himself on the nearest wolf. The wolf, sensing his movement, snarled as Ash came toward him, protecting his meal. He snapped at Ash.

  A shadow blurred past, Ash felt the movement of air and a brush of fur. Seeta tore into the offending wolf. Ash fell to the ground like a leaf, his strength utterly exhausted.

  “No. This one is mine too,” Seeta snarled, her fur standing on end.

  “But this one is dead.” The other pack member was astonished at her temerity. “The dead must feed the living. It is the law.”

  “No.” Seeta said, as if something in her mind and her heart had been broken. “This is the one who bore him, and she will not be eaten. This
one is mine.” She bared her fangs and snarled in defiance of any who would suggest otherwise.

  Long Fang moved toward the she-wolf. Once more forced to intervene, he took his place beside her. “I stand by my mate,” he growled, resigned but no less certain. “The man-cub has provided food.”

  “Yes,” snarled one wolf. “But it is old and long dead.”

  “Has your Leader found food?”

  “Yes.”

  “We will not eat this meat. It distresses my mate.”

  Amongst few grumbles, the wolves moved off, noses to the ground in search of anything else edible on the ship.

  Long Fang looked at the man-cub with his cool, implacable gaze. Ash sat curled up, his face buried in his good arm, his wounded limb hidden against his torso. Turning from Ash, he moved to Seeta and licked her face solicitously. The look he gave his mate seemed concerned, and then satisfied. The tension in his body relaxed. He left her with the man-cub and went in search of food.

  Seeta nuzzled Ash. He lifted his head at Seeta’s touch, and looked into her dark, sympathetic eyes.

  “Oh, Seeta,” he said. He reached his good arm around her and burying his face in her thick fur. “You understand.” She licked him lightly on the face. Ash shut his eyes and, reaching out with his mind, he was easily able to touch with her.

  Seeta thought, “You are my cub. I will protect you.”

  “I am your cub. Now … you are my mother.”

  Ash opened his eyes. Somehow, contact was not fully broken. On Delian, mind-touch with an animal was considered impossible. But Seeta wasn’t only an animal. She was soulful, just like his wolfhound Tynan.

  Seeta put a paw on him, confirming his thought. With maternal concern, she put her nose near his broken arm, attempting to discover the extent of his injury.

  “I’ll be fine.” Forcing himself to his feet, he involuntarily glanced toward Sartha. He steeled himself long enough to bend and place the blanket back over her. He was dizzy with the effort. He touched his forehead with the hand of his good arm, then took a hypo from his pack and injected himself with a generous amount of antibiotics. He burned with fever, although he was shivering with cold. Ash had vast experience with infection and illness, so he knew what to do. He would have to sweat it out. His mind was beginning to wander, but he forced himself to ensure that he had everything he needed. “I must get to some place warm, Seeta. I need to rest.”

  Seeta understood immediately. She howled, and the pack activity stopped. Heads turned to look at her. Long Fang gave a small yelp of acknowledgment, and then all the wolves resumed whatever they had been doing.

  Seeta grasped Ash’s jacket in her teeth, pulling him along.

  Ash picked up his pack. “I understand, Seeta. You’re going to take me home, right?” She looked at him with large, expressive yellow eyes. He ruffled the fur on her head affectionately.

  Seeta’s mate trotted out of Assurance with them. Long Fang and Seeta touched noses, a silent farewell. Then she and Ash moved off with his small thin hand gripping her fur for support. Presently Ash raised his good arm, and circled it around her. Seeta’s thick, soft fur radiated heat. Comforted, Ash wrapped himself against her, letting her take some of his weight.

  Long Fang watched them leave, waiting until he could no longer glimpse them through the thick curtain of red snow. The wind roared. He stared balefully at the sky much as he would study an opponent he intended to challenge. As expected, the temperature was dropping. The snowstorm was getting worse. Need alone made him bring the pack out to hunt this cold night. It was well that Seeta was moving to the safety of the den.

  Long Fang knew Seeta was acting illogically in adopting the pup, but what could he do about it? He knew when he couldn’t change her mind. His mate was not herself since the loss of her cub. He had thought she was recovering, and now this.

  Long Fang recalled the sweet smell of the man-cub’s blood and licked his lips. The cub was weak, and injured. The cub will die, he decided. The sooner the better.

  When the man-cub and his mate were well gone, Long Fang padded back into Assurance in his comfortable swinging gait. The cub wore the scent of badly injured prey. It would not survive the journey. He would finish quickly and follow Seeta, releasing his pack to go to their own dens and wait out the storm. His mate was not herself.

  Long Fang trailed through the broken wreck of Assurance. The rest of his pack, aware of where he was going, followed. He soon came to the dead woman. Now he would get his share of this fresh meat. To leave it uneaten would be wasteful. The dead must feed the living.

  The other members of the pack silently gathered around. In deference to their leader, they waited for him to begin. Long Fang put his nose under the blanket and tore at the flesh of the dead woman, swallowing great chunks of fresh, sweet meat.

  12. Journey to Delian

  The Age of Perdition, also called the 100 year war, lasted from 2220 to 2320. The population of humankind was estimated to be 15 billion in 2160; by the war’s end human population was less than 8 billion. During that time five worlds were rendered uninhabitable, including Earth.

  — Icompedia

  Admiral Neopol and Sub-Lieutenant Janson remained out of sight in the Admiral’s quarters aboard Conqueror. Neopol wasn’t frightened of reprisals; he simply didn’t wish to be the focus of attention until the warship’s personnel settled. The Crew had been shocked by the suicide of Captain Barlow, and there was an odd ripple of disharmony on the warship, an almost mutinous energy. Lieutenant Commander Gene Barlow had been promoted to acting Commander. Now he was Captain of Conqueror.

  “Excuse me, sir,” a Communications Officer tapped on the Admiral’s door. “I have a tube from HC, your eyes only.”

  Neopol opened his door and took the tube. He had been expecting the man as the communications officer had sent an Icom alert. Sealed tubes were instantly transmitted wherever there were tubeports. Matter transmission had been perfected; however, the technology was mainly used by the UWG. Only small, light objects could be transmitted and they had to be made out of tadium. Tadium was many thousands of credits per gram and the cost of running one small tubeport was colossal. Despite the cost the UWG preferred tube communication.

  “Thank you. You may go,” Neopol said. Conqueror was en route to Omni, having left Delian space as soon as possible. Two ship’s specialists, personal adjutants of Neopol, would ensure that the crew had a memory wipe. No one would be able to trace the genocide of the people of Delian to Conqueror.

  Once the man left he opened the message. It read: “FP 171 Darla Wu, Captain Larren Forseth reports interception of Delian warship Assurance. Queen of Delian confirmed en route to Truso. Claims Delian gassed. This is serious accusation. Darla Wu expected to arrive on Delian for confirmation of report within six days. Question Forseth then make all haste to Truso to find Delian survivors. If report on Delian confirmed find those responsible. Pirates? Alliance? Request assistance re: media release. Lord Jon Andros.”

  Neopol committed the message to memory and placed it in the neutralizer on his desk. Perfect. How auspicious. Now he knew which Delian ship had escaped and he would be able to intercept it. The last of the Delians would soon be destroyed. No doubt the Testimonials and King’s Mirror would also be on board. Not only that, he had plausible scapegoats for genocide now. And Darla Wu was traveling to Delian? He smiled with calculation, his mind working fast.

  Neopol suddenly laughed out loud. Naughty, naughty!

  Always nearby, his aide, Lieutenant Janson, did not react by so much as a flicker of an eyelid.

  Neopol said to his aide, “The handsome police captain and the beautiful Delian Queen.” He moved toward the door. Yes, there was sure to be a believable story there. There was no need to pin this terrible, inhuman transgression on pirates or the Alliance. Not when the police on Darla Wu were so conveniently returning to the scene of the crime. With a bounce in his step Neopol strode briskly toward the Bridge with Janson at his side. The two men made a f
ormidable pair. Any crew passing stepped aside and saluted as protocol demanded, courteously allowing their rapid passage on the ship.

  “Captain,” Neopol said on arrival.

  “Admiral, sir,” Captain Gene Pagett said.

  “HC sent a change of orders. We’re returning to Delian immediately. Alter course and provide an ETA. I’ll be in detention.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pagett saluted.

  Neopol took a tube to the detention deck, and summoned his physicians, doctors Smith and Ching. Specialists in their fields, they were brought on board as the Admiral’s personal adjutants. The two men appeared the moment they heard the voice of their master.

  “Yes, sir?” they responded, almost in unison.

  Dr. Smith was a man about forty years old, thin, excitable and balding. He could have that genetically altered, he was in the perfect position to do so, but it seemed that this was not his priority. He also had an irritating twitch in his eye that, despite all his science, he was quite unable to cure. Dr. Ching was his assistant. Ching was a tranquil, meticulous man. Mannequin-like, his face never seemed to move. Only his eyes seemed alive.

  Dr. Ching was an expert concerning anything to do with the human body. He could tell to the minute at which point a bone would break or a subject would reach unconsciousness. He was a specialist in the physical side of medical pursuits, where Dr. Smith was concerned with the mental side.

  “Gentlemen,” Neopol began. He was at ease among those of his own profession, of his own kind. “There has been a change of plans. I’ve a job to be done involving a large amount of work in a relatively short period of time. I know you have been preparing to have Conqueror’s crew’s memories wiped concerning the gassing of the Delian people. Well and good. However, in addition to this I now need the crew to receive a memory implant as well. Both will need to be done within the next three to four days.”