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

  As his mirth grew louder, Sartha turned toward him. “What?” she demanded

  “You,” he pointed at her. “You look so funny!”

  Sartha’s eyes glittered with fury. “What, pray tell, do you mean?” Her voice was caustic. Her now seething expression caused another uncontrollable outburst from Larren. It seemed that being raped was one thing, but being laughed at was another.

  “I want to know the joke,” she said, “even if it’s apparently at my expense.”

  Larren soon had his irrepressible laughter under control.

  Sartha glared at him.

  He met her angry gaze for a few moments, unrepentant and still amused. He grinned. “I’m sorry,” he offered, sitting back on the bed beside her. “However, you did take unfair advantage of me, you know.”

  “I took advantage of you!”

  “Yes. Yes, you did.” The woman, still beautiful, was no longer daunting. Having solved one problem he felt much more himself. He gave her a slow, thoughtful smile and leaned his broad shoulders back against the wall with his hands behind his head. “I don’t know how you knew, but I’m uncomfortable when the execution of my duty involves a good-looking woman. Even more so when the woman makes advances.”

  Sartha frowned and her brows drew together, clearly bewildered.

  Larren leaned forward again, enjoying her consternation. “Ha!” He said. “You still don’t know what’s going on, do you?”

  “No, I don’t.” Chin held high, Sartha stood up in an attitude of moral indignation. “I believe you’re out of order. If you leave now I won’t report you, Captain.”

  Larren suppressed a smile, momentarily enchanted by her bold but naive attempt to frighten him. A Captain of his years and standing was not so easily intimidated. His eyes narrowed. Reaching up he gripped Sartha’s wrist securely and pulled her back down on the bed next to him. “I think it’s time I had a few answers.” He towered over her, his size and strength an obvious threat.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “And I think you do.” Letting her go, he stood up and began to pace. “Point one, you said ‘we.’ There’s someone else aboard this ship and I want to know why they’re hiding. Don’t give me that story about ‘Romeo the Monkey,’ either. You’re a lousy liar.”

  He looked down at her. She was quiet. Good. She would listen to what he had to say. Sternly he said, “Point two, where are you going on Assurance? Seira Nuvon? Ha to that. You’re not the type to visit that vice-filled dump. Besides, travel to Nuvon is prohibited to all except service personnel as of two months ago.”

  He looked at her accusingly. She had her hands on her face and her head turned away from him. She wasn’t going to cry, was she? He hated it when women cried. It made him feel like a monster. Was she crying?

  He gave a deep sigh as his anger evaporated. Larren sat back down and spoke gently, his tone kind. “I haven’t even told you point number three. I don’t understand how you read me so well, but you were positively brilliant at discovering where my abilities lapse.” He looked toward the woman for some sort of response. There was none. “I’ve decided to trust my instincts. I think you’re in some sort of trouble. I brought you in here in case — ” He hesitated and expelled his breath in a sigh, disconcerted. “Well, in case you’d find it easier to confide in me without anyone else listening in.”

  Sartha wasn’t moving, but he could clearly hear her. Muffled behind her hands were the unmistakable sounds of soft sobs and irregular breathing. Looking away, disappointed, he finished his speech. “I just didn’t want to have to put you through the embarrassment of an honest-to-God, full-scale ship search.” Larren’s words slowed and trailed off into nothing. Yep. One thing he simply couldn’t tolerate, and that was a woman’s tears.

  He pulled a service issue handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.

  Sartha looked up at him. She took his offering and blew her nose. It was a prosaic action, almost childlike.

  Larren’s heart went out to her. He had disarmed her, seeing through her pretense and now, quite unreasonably, he was the one who felt disarmed. He wanted to help her. It was a character flaw and he knew it. Big tough Freeworlds Policeman. He sometimes felt like he had a sign on his forehead saying, “Sucker: Can’t resist rescuing hopeless cases that get themselves into trouble, particularly pretty women.”

  “Look, nothing can be that serious,” he said. “Whatever it is, just tell me about it and we’ll sort it out. Honestly. How bad could it be? I’ll do everything in my power to help, I swear.”

  She nodded, hiccupping and taking deep breaths.

  “There. That’s better,” he soothed. His hand moved clumsily to gently pat her back. Then, to his astonishment, she put her face in her hands and began to cry all over again, even louder this time.

  “What did I say?” he demanded throwing his hands up into the air. He felt an entirely warranted grievance with the injustice of life. Larren glared at the holovid on the wall — it was brightly showing a field of yellow flowers. Unreasonably, it irritated him. The wall went soft cream as he used Icom to switch it off. Why had he stopped and boarded this ship? He’d rather face an armada of pirates any day.

  Sartha sobbed. “It’s just … it’s just … you’re being so nice.”

  Larren cursed under his breath. Compliments now. Why should that embarrass him? He hoped that this wasn’t another ploy to get out of telling him the truth. He considered her tearful appearance. She seemed genuine enough. Well, he resolved firmly, he was going to have some answers come hell or high water — even if the high water was from tears. His impulse was to continue to reassure her, but now was not the time. He needed answers and his gut feeling was that she would give them as long as he kept his mouth shut. Larren sat back, waiting impatiently for the fresh onslaught to finish.

  With a sigh he went out and obtained fresh coffee, keeping up the pretense by winking at his astonished men. Eventually, Sartha’s weeping subsided.

  Over a cup of coffee, Sartha told him, leaving nothing out except the Seer’s foretelling. She told him about the power of mind-touch, why she and her son escaped, how the people of Delian had died and her fear of the police. She explained about the Testimonials and the priceless Damithst King’s Mirror and her need to pass on Trueborn knowledge and responsibility to Ash. Her overriding concern was for her son. Someone wanted them both dead. She told Captain Forseth that she had touched him only for a moment and discovered his weakness, discomfort with a beautiful woman during the course of his duties. She also knew he was trustworthy. She knew his name was Larren, and considering the circumstances they decided on first name informality.

  Dumbfounded, Larren blinked, “That’s quite a story.”

  “You think I’m lying?” she demanded, quick to take insult.

  “I didn’t say that,” Larren said, unwilling to offend her. He stood up and began to pace the room. “No. I believe you.” He turned back toward her and changed the subject. “Do you really think that you’ll be safe on Kalar?”

  “Yes, I do. You see, Kalar is so remote and no one there is really interested in who you are or where you came from. If there was a search for us they would get no assistance from the Kalarians.”

  “But what will you do? Live there forever? What about your homeworld? And Ash, now King. Will he marry a nice Kalarian girl and settle down?”

  Sartha was quiet. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, with great concentration. “I haven’t thought that far. I just know I must finish his training and ensure he is safe. He’ll have to be told about Delian — ” There was a catch in her voice. “ — and his father.” She looked like she was going to burst into tears again.

  With natural compassion, Larren reached for Sartha. Taking her hand he pulled her to her feet, and up against him offering the natural comfort of a human embrace. She rested her head on his chest with neither encouragement nor resistance, and he wrapped his arms around her. Larren saw Sartha for w
ho she was now. She wasn’t trying to play him. The woman had decided to trust him. He was surprised to find that, despite her nearness, her scent, and the feel of her soft skin next to his, he no longer felt an involuntary passion or the fear of a beautiful woman. Oh, the attraction was still there, but it was eclipsed by an inherent desire to help and protect her. Her courage fascinated him. She was all drive and determination wrapped up in a soft, feminine body. He breathed in deeply. And apparently, he thought wryly, she could read minds.

  The holovid wall had started up again through an automatic default program. Now it showed a valley surrounded by white-capped mountains, all in twilight. The darkness of the setting reduced the light in the room, giving everything soft edges, making it seem quiet and protected.

  “I don’t know why, It’s against all my service training, but I do believe you, Sartha,” Larren said as he idly patted her back. He kept his voice low, deep and soothing while he cradled her as he might an injured child. “And I’ll help you and your son in any way I can.”

  After a few comfortable minutes, Sartha pulled away from him and sat back on the bed. Her emotions appeared to be more under control. She looked up at him with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” she said.

  The holovid wall shifted. Flowers again. The light in the room increased and brightened as the view panned over an undulating field of yellow daffodils shining cheerfully on a brilliant sunny day.

  Larren noticed that the flowers didn’t irritate him in the slightest now. He was genuinely surprised by how he felt. It was as if the woman had cast a spell. He had a sharp ache in his chest at the thought of her leaving, fleeing to Kalar, with her son. Sartha’s husband had recently been murdered, she still grieved, yet all he could feel was the overwhelming urge to remain with her. He wanted to see her again. All his life he had fought any possibility of a permanent attachment. Throughout his service history, his cherished vessel, the Lady Darla, had been his one true love. Like many beautiful but jealous women, she always demanded his full attention. What he felt for the Lady Sartha wasn’t love, but it was … something. It was an intractable feeling he knew he wouldn’t be able to shake. Not only that, he didn’t want to shake it.

  Larren wondered what Sartha would think if she knew that he wanted to see her again. Having recently lost her husband, in fact her whole world, she would probably be appalled. He put his hands in his pockets and asked, “You say you can read minds?”

  “It’s not really mind reading. Our gift is one of perception.”

  “Can you read my mind?”

  Her blue eyes lit with mischief. “I already have.”

  “You said you only had a moment’s contact. I’d like you to do it properly this time.”

  “Why?”

  He shrugged.

  She tilted her head. “I suppose it is a new idea to know another so completely, but it is easily done. It may take a while,” she warned, then lay down on the bed, comfortably curled on her side.

  “I’ll wait,” he assured. He wanted her to know him better. Then she could decide how he could best help her and, more importantly, if she wanted to see him again. As the minutes passed he moved restlessly, eventually laying down on the bed beside her, resting his head on one arm. Sartha faced him with her eyes shut, her golden hair loose about her. She looked peaceful and relaxed … and beautiful.

  Larren didn’t feel anything. Was she reading his mind? He considered the matter and was surprised at the level of trust he had given her. He didn’t care what she knew about him. Had he ever met anyone like her before he would have pursued and courted her, determined to discover if she really was the unique, indomitable person that he suspected she was. Then he probably would have given up the service, as well as his beloved vessel, and begged her to stay with him.

  He was astonished to discover genuine affection now. He had enjoyed many passing liaisons, but other than a number of childish infatuations in his youth, he didn’t think he had ever really been in love. His past experience with the opposite sex had been more of friendship and affection, or a release of sexual tension with neither party seeking permanent attachment.

  He grinned and decided he was an idiot.

  This current fascination was probably just the result of some need to rescue a woman in trouble. He frowned and rubbed the beginning growth of stubble on his chin. But she did attract him, and not just physically. No matter. He remembered that he was owed time off. He would visit her on Kalar and get to know her son. He would ensure for himself that they were okay. His left hand went to his pocket to his lucky marble, touching the smoothness of the Plexiglas that held that beautiful blue stone. Larren held it not with tension this time, but with a silly sort of happiness. So stupid. He was in the grip of some sort of mad, impractical joy. He shook his head with bemused chagrin.

  I really like this woman, he thought.

  Lying further back on the bed, almost touching her, he let his mind wander. Perhaps he could do a bit of mind-touching himself. Now what could she be thinking? Larren began a kind of mental reaching in Sartha’s direction, surprised to feel a warm, flowing sensation, a depth, an almost electric impression vibrating along his skin. The hairs on his arms stood on end — it was as if his body was humming.

  It felt good. Really, really good.

  With a confusion of senses, an electric combining of viewpoints, his perspective shifted.

  Completely disoriented, Larren tried to focus on one thing, leaving everything else to spin. He stared and stared, until finally the blurred object at the center of his vision came into view.

  A coarse expletive sounded in his mind. He tried to exclaim out loud, only his mouth didn’t respond. He was staring … at himself!

  He saw it. Motionless and undisturbed, his body laying stationary on the bed.

  He thought, “Am I dead?”

  Terror swept through him. Mentally he screamed.

  “Don’t be afraid. You are alive.”

  Larren clearly heard someone reassure him — no, he felt someone reassure him.

  “You are safe, with me.” Sartha’s whispered thought was a warm touch caressing his mind.

  He was still looking at his own motionless form — from outside of it.

  “Lady, please. What’s happening? Is this a dream?” It had to be some sort of nightmarish figment of his imagination. Had there been some sort of hallucinogenic in that coffee?

  “Larren.” The fingers of her mind were soft and gentle. “You are disoriented. You’ve had no training.” He became aware of her astonishment as she added, “And you have touched me. I am having two-way contact with an off-worlder. This is impossible, for you are not Delian. You should be mentally blind.”

  “This is mind-touch?” He asked the tentative question as he doggedly fought his fear. “If my body is over there, where am I?”

  “We are together. You are with me,” she replied. “Try not to be shocked. Just look. You are regarding your own body, from my mind and vision.”

  Looking, he was bombarded with sensory input: he was her. He felt his — no, her — breasts rise as she took in a long, deep breath. He felt small, light, delicate and soft. His long golden hair curled around his neck and there was a delightful female smell; he could feel her velvety dress against her skin. He could even experience her sense of taste — she had recently eaten something sweet, something with cinnamon and honey.

  He was NOT in his body.

  He stared at his own unconscious form, hyperaware of being within hers.

  Sartha remained silent, allowing him time to master his fear.

  After some minutes, Larren felt more in control. Fine, he thought. I am a woman. So what? It isn’t the end of the United Worlds or anything. Unaccountably, he felt like giggling. “Well,” he mentally voiced to Sartha, “you have a beautiful body. But — no offense — I prefer my own.” He was beginning to relax and could perceive her smiling. There was a bubble of amusement in her mind. Physically, he felt the corners of her — his — lips
rise. She, he … well, they were smiling.

  “The condition is quite temporary, Captain, I assure you. You are currently me, assuming my point of view, observing life as the Lady Sartha does.” She began to communicate mind to mind in an ordinary manner, as if discussing a favorite repast, she calm and natural, he barely recovered from utter panic. “A body is an animal of its own, Larren, with instincts, needs and desires. The mind and spirit are separate, yet joined. Delians have the power to take themselves, mind and spirit, into another’s body and mind.

  “What about my brain? I thought my mind was in my brain?”

  “The brain is simply another part of one’s flesh, Larren. A vital part, yes, as it helps the essence control the body. But your brain is not you.”

  She gave him a moment to digest that, while he thought it through. He focused on Sartha’s body, her regular breathing: in, out, in, out. Despite the oddity of being aware that he now had breasts, simply breathing soothed him. Being her was so different from being within his own heavy, solid masculine self. She was so feminine. Was he using her brain? But that made no sense. He was who he was, intact. He was still a person with his own mind, his own memories. Nothing had changed there. And yet here he was looking through the Lady Sartha’s eyes. He was looking from outside himself.

  He thought: “I am not my body.” It was a revelation.

  “True.” After a moment Sartha thought, “I know you now, Larren. Look.” Like a mirror inside Larren’s mind, Sartha reflected the unaltered Truth of Larren’s past back to him, starting with his childhood. Kind parents, two sisters, both much younger than he — Larren loved them all. A loyal, kind and teasing big brother. A need to go off world. A desire to help others. Adolescent, idealistic, Service mad. Even as a boy Larren had been a natural leader. People wanted to follow him, not through fear but from admiration. Larren inspired others with a desire to live up to his expectations — and he had high expectations.

  She knew his embarrassing moments — jealousy, greed, lust. She discovered all his stupid mistakes and seemed to understand his hard-won lessons. Larren heard an echo of Sartha’s thoughts: He is an honorable man. She understood him and delighted in knowing him. Somehow he felt flattered. He was a better man than he thought, when viewed through her eyes.