WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) Page 34

  Carrah’s large eyes were wide. Her pale face showed her shock.

  Lindha waited for a moment, for the impact of what she had said to fully sink in. Her expression was solemn. “What would Dwanne say if you could ask him now?”

  Carrah looked up, eyes bright with welling tears. “Yes, of course, Prefect,” her voice wavered. “You may take his body. Dwanne would wish to help in any way possible. Please excuse me.” She jumped up and was quickly gone, almost running from the room.

  Good, thought Lindha.

  Jeeha nodded, regarding her with approval. She finished dressing Ash’s wound and gathered her healing tools together; ready to move on to the next chore.

  Determination glinted from Lindha’s eyes as she said to the Lady Jeeha, “I need the arrangements with Dwanne’s remains finalized. As few as possible must know, of course. We have plenty of blood and cell samples from the Trueborn,” she said, gazing at the soiled dressings. “We only need fingerprints. It will be relatively simple to speak with the medical superintendant to get him to falsify the records.”

  Lindha took Ash’s right hand and put it in the bowl of water, soaking his skin and broken nails. Then she took the cloth and began to scrub and sponge his arm. She was surprised to find how white his skin was under all that grime. She said, “I’ve personally counseled the superintendent’s wife on many occasions. He has good reason to support the Temple. He’ll accept our fingerprints and samples and use them in the scan. Unfortunately, the UWG will also want a retina scan. Dwanne’s eyes will betray us.” She cleared her throat. “It’s best if they be made unavailable. We cannot rely on the birds to attend this task before his corpse is discovered,” she said, forcing herself to sound brisk as she rinsed the cloth, squeezed the water out and began wiping Ash’s skin once more.

  “Yes. Certainly. I’ll take care of it,” Jeeha agreed.

  Lindha sighed, continuing to work on Ash’s unconscious body. Putting out a dead man’s eyes would not be pleasant, but Dwanne’s sister need never know. The matter of obtaining help from the medical superintendant would be the easier task. Before the end of the day the UWG would have registered the Trueborn as legally dead.

  “Thank you, Jeeha. It’s my duty to finish up here,” Lindha said, relieved. “There is still the matter of thoroughly washing the filth off our guest, and getting him settled in bed.”

  Jeeha nodded and smiled. “You are an excellent Prefect, Lady. Jana has chosen well.” She gestured toward Ash. “I’ve got his clothes — he will need to be dressed as the Trueborn was.” Jeeha left to attend to Dwanne and to fake the off-worlder’s death.

  The door shut. Lindha took the bowl to the sink, and ran fresh water. Bringing the steaming bowl from the washroom to her bed, she put it down on the table. With the right hand and arm quite clean, she started on his left, repeating the process, carefully washing and drying Ash’s motionless form. Jana be praised he was no longer awake, she thought gratefully. That would have been a trial difficult to endure.

  The teachings concerning the Prophecy of the Coming of the Trueborn were clear. The function of the Temple was to provide assistance and support, but no Temple sister would be allowed to lead or direct him in any manner. When the time came the Trueborn would tell the Prefect of the Temple what was needed and what his purpose was. The Seer all those years ago had ordered it so.

  Lindha had washed and dressed ill and injured men before and could not recall discomfort. This man was different, because it was for her, as Prefect, to provide whatever he wished. Only he knew what his purpose may be. The foretelling said that the Trueborn’s arrival would herald the end of the Temple as they knew it. “With the Trueborn comes a two-edged sword, one side for light, one side for darkness and shadow,” and, “Beware the Trueborn, the animal that can kill the snake.” Lindha shook her head in dismay. The man had been foreseen and named animal. The Trueborn could be our salvation. But, she thought with cold fear, he could also be our undoing.

  Well, she would do her duty and give him anything he asked for. Anything. Her heart sped up and her skin tingled. She wasn’t sure if she was excited or filled with dread at the prospect. Both emotions seemed to be warring for supremacy.

  Lindha washed Ash’s muscular back and buttocks, trying to be impersonal and not succeeding. There was no fat on him at all; he really was too thin. Just today she had overheard two of the female boarders discussing their sexual exploits and favorite positions. That was as expected, proper. They must learn the art of pleasure for their partners and themselves. Indeed, Lindha herself had learned the rites of love in case the Trueborn arrived and needed her that way.

  Today, before he came, she had been jealous of the two girls and their experiences, wishing she was a normal woman like any other. Now she was frightened. Taro the Deceiver had made her jealous and Jana had shown her how irrational that jealousy could be. Many times she had imagined her dream lover. Could this man actually be him? He seemed so rough, so dangerous. It couldn’t be him, he was not comfortable at all. How different imagination was when compared to the harshness of reality.

  Was the Goddess testing her faith? Lindha swallowed uneasily. The Trueborn already seemed to want her. But she didn’t feel ready; that was why she had told him she was celibate. Besides, he was drunk. It had not been a break in her vows, she thought, justifying her actions to herself. It was an impulsive attempt to slow things down, to ensure that she, as Prefect, was in control. And it had worked, giving the Trueborn pause in his attentions.

  Lindha bit her lip. Ultimately, she would submit to her duties as Prefect. It was out of her hands. The future was up to the Trueborn.

  Ash woke in the sun-brightened room, unaware that he had slept overnight in the Temple Prefect’s quarters. It was quiet but he could hear the sound of young people outside. They seemed to be chatting and laughing, but the tones were soft. The room was a cool blue, the furniture of light wood. Ash was drawn to a large painting that hung in the center of the room. It was a landscape, and it gave an incredible impression of life and light. With large brushstrokes it showed the pastoral scene of an Opan spring sky. It was the astonishing light that attracted Ash. Whoever painted this work of art was a master.

  Ash was lying on his back. His shoulder throbbed under a bandage and, with every muscle aching, he felt as though he had been thoroughly beaten. He looked at his fingers: his nails were trimmed and his hands were clean. Surprisingly, he had no hangover. But what a wonderful bed.

  Rolling to his side, careful of his back and shoulder, Ash scanned the room. It was so comfortable. He hadn’t slept in a proper bed for years, and the sensation of a mattress and clean fresh sheets caused intense pleasure. He stretched luxuriously, finding it difficult to get past the simple satisfaction of a real bed. And to be so clean! Even his hair had been washed; it fell against his face and neck, soft and light. Everything smelled good. He felt himself to be naked, so where were his clothes?

  “Good morning, Ash. Are you feeling better?”

  Ash turned in surprise. It was the Lady Lindha. Here! Glancing up he received a further shock. She had been sleeping in a cot behind him.

  “Yes … thank you, Lady.” He winced as he sat up and awkwardly stumbled through a reply. “If there is anything I can do to repay you …”

  “In good time,” she said, cutting him off, smiling and propping pillows behind his back. “For now, you must rest. You have been through quite enough.” She opened the door and spoke to someone who was waiting in the hall. “We’re ready for the morning meal, please.”

  “Yes, Lady,” he heard a voice reply.

  Ash’s mind was whirling. Why had they saved him and taken such good care? Obviously it was because of their faith. Lady Lindha must have washed him. Ash felt both embarrassed and aroused at the thought. He admonished himself. She was celibate, a Sister of Jana with an pledge of chastity. She probably did this sort of thing all the time. Still, he thought with a wry slow smile, he wished he had been awake to enjoy her ef
forts.

  An idea intruded and his cheerful mood evaporated. “Was it you that found me in that storeroom?” he asked tentatively. In his heart he knew it was, but he hoped he was mistaken.

  “I am afraid that was me,” she smiled to lessen the blow.

  “Lady, please forgive me.”

  “Of course,” she nodded, casually dismissing the offence.

  Ash reflected back. What had happened last night? He struggled to recall. He remembered drinking and the stitching … and … oh. He had been singing her name! He groaned, realizing that he had made a fool of himself.

  Lindha leaned toward him, anxiously solicitous. “Does your wound hurt?”

  “No, I simply remembered last night,” Ash confessed, feeling that he couldn’t really hide the truth from a Temple Sister. He said uneasily, “Those spirits. I hope I didn’t do or say anything to offend you.”

  Lindha gave a soft giggle, the sound as musical as a windchime’s song to Ash’s ears. “You did nothing to offend me, Ash. It was the drink talking. We paid no attention to your rambling, I can assure you.”

  “I’m relieved to hear that.”

  A mischievous glint came into her expression. She raised one eyebrow and said, “But do tell me, Ash, are my eyes truly as beautiful as your mother’s?”

  Ash, blithely unaware that Lindha was attempting to tease him, studied her and gave the matter serious thought. He was not disconcerted or embarrassed by her query. He took the question seriously, looking into Lindha’s eyes with burning curiosity and intent.

  Lindha didn’t look away from his steady regard. Her expression remained composed, but a faint flush of color came into her cheeks.

  “Yes, Lady,” Ash answered. “Your eyes are exactly as my mother’s; perhaps even more beautiful than hers were.”

  There was a long moment of silence as they looked at each other.

  Lindha looked away first. She said, “Your mother …” She paused and then added quietly, “She was on the ship with you?”

  “Yes.” Ash’s lips pressed together as grief rose up, constricting his throat. It was silly, he reproached himself, to feel sorrow for such an old loss. But something about this woman did remind him of his mother and it was more than just her eyes.

  A tap on the door broke the spell and was a welcome relief. Breakfast had arrived.

  Ash was mortified by Lindha’s continued attentions, but could hardly refuse. It seemed a thickened, enriched broth had been made for him, something light because of his injury. While he settled down to enjoy the soup, Lindha appeared with a towel and some clean clothes, consisting of a belt and tunic with matching trousers.

  “There’s a bath next door if you’re up to it and a razor for your use when you’ve finished your meal. Have a care when washing; I don’t recommend that you allow those bandages to become wet. Shall I trim your hair?”

  “Surely, Lady, you have many more important things that demand your attention,” Ash said, feeling guilty for monopolizing her. “I’d rather you didn’t waste your time personally attending to me.”

  She said, “As a visitor to the Temple you are in my charge,” Lindha replied firmly. “I will not quarrel with you, sir. I must insist. It is my privilege and honor to ensure that your needs are met.”

  His looked at her, incredulous in disbelief.

  “Honestly, Ash,” she scolded. “It would be an insult to me to have you ill dressed or ill cared for. Believe me, it is my duty and I will not be happy unless you allow me to attend to it.”

  He shrugged. “Well, then. It would be most welcome to have my hair, for once, properly trimmed. Thank you.” His face broadened into a grin. For some years now he had been cutting it with his knife.

  With that, Ash’s new life at the Temple began.

  25. A Temple Education

  There are only a few enlightened people with logical minds and superior intelligence within a century. These people challenge accepted culture and with superior vision they advance humankind. What has been preserved of their work belongs among the most precious possessions of humanity. Without Plato, Aristotle, Franklin, Einstein, Jenkins, Sanderson, ShanTu and others, humanity would still be mired in superstition and ignorance.

  — Seer Narda Chayton

  The Second Prefect, Sister Jeeha, smiled in satisfaction as she looked out across the Temple of Jana’s Deliberation Hall. It was a large room, designed with acoustics in mind. Choirs practiced here, as well as the Tombay Symphony. With fine, rich rugs, wood fixtures, lighting that soothed, and open transparent doors out to the gardens, the Sisterhood used it as a place for teaching, discussion and debate.

  Jeeha’s face and deportment hadn’t changed, but new vitality coursed through her. The Trueborn had come over three weeks ago and this changed everything. Who Ash was remained secret, known only to Temple Sisters. Yet such excitement was contagious and the students had picked up the subtle wave of energy and purpose. Jeeha allowed herself a broad smile. Today’s discussion would reflect that vigor.

  She looked out upon the senior class, students ranging from eighteen to eighty. They lounged on couches, the floor or at tables chatting amongst themselves happily. She saw Ash sitting cross legged on a fine red Vitian carpet, well at the back He was attending this class, as he had others. Jeeha doubted he would contribute to the discussion. Quiet and guarded, the Trueborn, she felt, was still finding his way.

  “Okay, everyone, if you’re ready, we can get started,” Jeeha said. “We’ve brought to the forum a vast topic today, which of course will soon be brought to manageable levels. The question is: What is good, what is evil? What is right, what is wrong? And, of course, ShanTu’s favorite: What is virtue? Who wants to start?”

  The arguments raged back and forth. Recent history was examined, the evil of the Hundred Year War, the character flaws in all humanity that could cause such destruction. While certain acts were considered inherently evil, most agreed that what was considered evil was generally determined by social or cultural morals and constructs. Many agreed that those often transgressing moral boundaries generally did so as they stood to profit from those transgressions. Historical justifications for evil were also examined: genocide as a reason to purify the race, slavery as a form of benevolence to “lesser” humans.

  Greed, pride, jealousy, self righteousness and revenge were all discussed as inherent human character flaws. It was a given that human imperfections during certain circumstances were innocuous, yet those same failings in positions of power could be extremely destructive and thus evil. Power inequities were seen to create both perpetrators and victims and the resultant counterproductive responses that went against what was considered “natural good.” It was observed that often an individual’s greatest gift was also their most dangerous failing. For example, a cheerful positive person, believing in absolute good, may be unable to clearly view evil and thus in ignorance allow it to take root. Whereas a cynical and negative person may be able to easily spot and weed out ill doing, but also be unable to find and enjoy goodness.

  The Temple view was argued that no person is basically evil, that only acts should be considered evil; otherwise it was too easy to hate an individual and strive to punish them rather than to understand them. The Temple’s stated intent was to free people from whatever demons caused them to resort to destructive evil behavior in the first place. Yet evil should not be allowed to continue. If harming an individual became necessary to prevent them from performing evil acts, this was acceptable despite being detrimental to the individual.

  Interestingly, it was generally allowed that there were many, many cases where a little evil is a positive thing and, indeed, without evil, “good” cannot be appreciated. An individual who takes a friend for granted may be better able to appreciate how lucky they were to have had such a friendship if the friend leaves. One may appreciate health only after illness, be grateful for wealth only after poverty, and so on. Another clear example in point was that the UWG was strong and a powerful sou
rce of good for all of humanity as a direct result of the Hundred Year War and the resultant evil of destruction.

  Nisha, a long-ordained Sister, eventually stood up and said, “It can be seen from our discussion that traditionally the question of good or evil stems from cultural moral codes and is therefore based on the mores of a group. There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” She sat down.

  “I agree,” a young man offered, standing. “For example,” he smiled sheepishly, “not that long ago it was considered a sin to have sex. Even masturbation was considered wrong and same sex partners or anything unconventional was out of the question. Women had to remain celibate before marriage or they were considered immoral. Men had to be experienced — it was such a double standard. Even the concept of paying for Service was considered wicked before the Age of Exodus. They called it prostitution, which had a hugely negative connotation. We all know that sex is as natural a part of life as is eating or sleeping; to neglect it for any reason is just stupid. No one ever questioned paying for a meal or a place to sleep. Humans need touch, skin-to-skin contact; it is part of what makes us human. Not having sex can cause physical, mental and spiritual harm. So the wrong, I believe, is in denying one’s own nature.”

  Jeeha said, “Caleb, I’m impressed. Your impassioned speech had many good points. I thank you.”

  “I agree with Caleb, of course,” an older woman said. “These concepts have been proven time and time again through valid research. While not taking away from the points Caleb makes, ShanTu advised that moral qualities are so constituted as to be destroyed by either excess or by deficiency. Perhaps his was too simple an answer, but one cannot but agree that such a course is straightforward in application. He of course recommended following a mean, that is to say, moderation in all things.”

  Caleb, the young man previously speaking, had not yet sat down. He replied, “When one is young, one’s needs are different. One person’s excess is another’s deficiency.” He sat.