Among Bright Stars... (6 page)

“
And here I thought,” Sharr laughed.
“Ambika got all bent out of shape over this weekend because we'd be
alone, banging like bunnies. Now I know she just didn't want her
little girl gaming the casino, because she's in reality a walking
calculator and wireless transmitter/receiver.”

Nadia very nearly spit out her mouthful of
white wine, unable to keep herself from giggling.

A sudden boom brought Sharr out of his
pleasant remembrance. A dent smoldered in the bulkhead where a
coilgun slug sparked. The bolt having just missed Aria by inches,
who curled up on a sofa frightened. A female ensign, uniform dagger
pulled out, pointed threateningly at the clone. He recalled the
girl’s name: Omaya Saran, she'd been sent up to the suite with a
report from Admiral Krag. Sharr extended his hand, hrisanar in his
bones built up a gravitic field into critical mass and he loosed a
blast that threw the ensign hard into a bulkhead.

Atar Kran entered, weapon at the ready. “My
Lord?”

This girl tried to take Aria’s life!
Sharr thought angered, fought to repress his inner dragon. “Why
would you do this?” Sharr demanded. He ignored the tears that
flowed down Omaya’s cheeks. “I suggest you speak,” growled Sharr
Khan. “I might choose to be merciful.”

“She’s...” Omaya struggled past her rage,
choked on the very sight of Aria DeFalco. Didn't her Shotar
understand? She only wanted to save him from this thing which
clouded his mind. The people deplored what this clone represented
to their glorious leader. But at last all Omaya could manage to
utter in her defense: “She’s an abomination!”

It took all of Sharr’s self-control, not to
throttle Omaya right there. Despite Aria's troublesome personality
and needy nature, he did indeed love her. No matter what his
Falcanians thought about her, Aria remained under his protection.
The Shotar tossed Omaya, none to gently into the clutches of three
Drakorian Guards who entered behind Atar. “Find out if others were
involved.” Sharr Khan ordered. “Then whip her!”

Ariel waited, high atop Azadi Tower, smiled
down at the Islamic Morningstar leader, his chiseled Persian
features vibrant. Darius had been fashioned as an Adonis, carved
from her grandparent’s scientific skills, intended to rule Earth
itself. Down from her perch Ariel jumped, glided to meet Darius
Noorani, Allah's prophet and Caliph her beloved. Tri-claw boots
absorbed the shock of her sudden impact. Vigilantly, Ariel’s
Drakorian escort landed in a ring beside her to surround Darius and
his smartly suited Janissary agents.

“You know I can’t fly right?” Darius
smirked.

“That can be fixed.” Ariel responded, a
sparkle to her violet eyes.

“Your Mother has said that.” Darius eagerly
licked his lips at the sight of the lovely brunette princess. Women
threw themselves at his feet, yet here before him, in all her
winged glory stood a superior female. “Sharr Khan has a most
impressive, very worthy woman at his side.” And then he peeked
lustfully at Ariel’s ample cleavage, she did not wither under his
searching gaze, rather, she stood proud of her own beauty, aware of
its beguiling effect.

The Princess gazed into Darius's eyes. All
Morningstars were endowed, for the most part with unnatural,
startlingly blue-eyes, but a few exceptions existed. Noorani no
omission, his blue eyes glimmered (electronic like) with that same
inner fire Nadia's presented. “Good to be away from all those
politics.” Ariel smiled, grabbed Darius’s arm, walked with him.
“Tell me about your awakening,” she inquired. Much rumor, and myth
surrounded the subject of Darius's Islamic Reformation. Ariel
wanted to hear it for herself, what spurned Noorani on his great
cause?

Darius expression became solemn. The story
of how the 12
^th
Imam reduced Al-Qaeda to a scrap heap
long ago having taken on legendary proportions. Only he himself
knew the full truth of it. “We were in the mountains.” He recalled
it like it were yesterday, his home the Hindukush. “I'd been but a
boy, a young man of extraordinary strength and intellect, fed on
religious fervor. The Sheik groomed me to be his heir, the long
prophesied 12
^th
Imam.” Noorani leaned on a stone bulwark
of this 'Gateway into Iran', deeply exhaled. “I’d wandered off into
the foothills.” Rapture settled over Darius’s sculpted features.
“A…” The memory brought a thrill to the Morningstar, who could
remember the encounter in total clarity. “A being of light, a malak
came to me.” Terror could be heard in his recitation of this
supernatural encounter. Noorani smiled as if he stood before that
heavenly light still. “This angel told me that I should kill the
Sheik and then lead his people on a new jihad to cleanse our faith.
That night I crept back into our encampment, slit the Sheik's
throat.” Darius told her sadly. “His
Mujahedin
declared me the Mahdi as they claimed
themselves to have beheld the angel of the Lord above me.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Ariel wondered.

“I am a weapon, designed to be that from my
birth in GenKon’s artificial wombs.” Darius grinned. “Allah
authored that long before I ever breathed. We Morningstars – And
Falcanians are part of his plan for the Earth and the human race.”
He then stated sincerely. “It’s Allah's will that I took my place
as the Twelfth.”

Ariel went over, leaned on him, where he
stood in the shadow of the tower, arched her wings to provide a
moment of intimate privacy, and then pulled Noorani close to her
and brushed her plentiful lips onto his. She understood very well
that Darius desired her.

“So, which one of them thought of it?”

“Excuse me?” Ariel feigned.

“This seduction.” Darius said. “Your Mother
or your Father?”

She considered a coy response, yet instead
chose a different, more direct tactic. “Men have launched wars out
of lust for women and power. We Falcanians simply prefer an honest
approach.” She let her armored tail curl around his lower body. “If
joining with us will offer you the hope of exotic pleasures, is
that not as equal to you as military secrets?”

No denying her sexual attractiveness, Darius
Noorani told himself. “Your Father wages a risky war. Asks others
to put their lot in with him. Is momentary pleasure worth the loss
of life, limb, or treasure?”

“My Father respects raw power.”

Darius laughed. “And they call me ‘The
Tyrant’.”

“My Father only wishes to build a secure
world for his people.” She glanced up, and bated her almond eyes.
“Is that not what your purpose was with the Janissary?” Ariel
gestured at one of the suited agents, his Golden Lion Soldiers.
“With them you brought peace to this region.”

Darius enjoyed a hearty laugh. “This is
true!”

Her motorcade moved through the streets of
Tehran, Nadia and Priyanka sat in the back of the limousine and
watched the crush of people out on the street. Noorani's reforms
and Westernization were evident all around. Women walked
unescorted, drove, and were unconcealed by the oppressive burqa.
Many young women even wore modern, scandalously revealing clothing.
Though to be sure, a few diehard traditionalists kept the hijab,
but importantly, there were no longer religious police to violently
enforce its wear. The backbone of Sharia law once and for all under
Darius's regime had been broken. The 12
^th
Imam thought
of himself as Alexander The Great, yet Nadia considered Noorani a
much needed Martin Luther. The Queen reflectively sighed. “Iran is
such a changed nation, and for the better.” Yet she added. “If it’s
going to stick, Darius must completely defang his opposition or the
cycle of violence in Allah's name will begin again.”

“His sect of Islam is becoming the dominant
one.”

“True,” Nadia agreed. “In a generation or
more Barâdari Islam will be 'what always was... ' and Darius's
edicts will be seen as the proper way to go about being a Muslim.”
Wryly. “I suppose being a messiah is helpful in this regard. Your
word is the law of God.”

“According to our reports,” Priyanka
informed, only just seeing the updated information herself. “Mufasa
Taharka recently adopted Noorani's form of Islam.”

“Now, that's all sorts of interesting.”

Grinning, Priyanka quipped. “Yes, I thought
you might think that --”

Outside her window the motorcade passed a
block of old stone buildings. Nadia leaned on the car door, stared
out at a stack of shops, and cafe’s. Over the city the Sun set and
the call to evening prayers sounded. A door caught her eye, an
inscription on it: The GenKon hourglass-helix. “Stop!” The Queen
called. “Stop the car!”

Abruptly the motorcade came to a halt in the
street, Nadia dashed from her seat, Priyanka confused followed
behind her, as well as Valküri sisters, who were not accustomed to
their Queen acting in such an impulsive manner. She stood by the
green door, and traced the outline of the stylized helix with her
fingertips. Then she sensed it, a powerful mind probed her own.
Compelled by this development Nadia opened the door. Her attendants
followed, wary of what lay inside.

Dark and abandoned, cautiously the entourage
trailed Nadia into the building, hands on their weapons as they
moved deeper into the structure, which seemed to be a labyrinth of
rooms. Further into the maze, lamps on the walls came on of their
own accord.

From a garter holster, Nadia pulled out her
own gold-plated VX-7 Starcracker. A gift from Sharr, the compact,
sleek high-caliber pistol remained among the handful of firearms
designed to make killing dents in a Morningstar. One of Grenadier
Firearms rarest, and most expensive weapons, only twelve ever
having officially been manufactured.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment Nadia.”
A silvery female voice beckoned.

“My Queen I do not like this.” A Valküri
protested.

Nadia nodded, yet said nothing. She tried
her own telepathy, hit a psychic barrier.

They soon came to a room, where Nadia and
her comrades were greeted by a white shrouded figure, who sat
cross-legged before a globe of a light, the coriander scent of
incense filled the room. “Welcome, T’Kara.” A slight giggle. “Queen
of the Robots.”

Nadia resisted an urge to groan at the
remark. “Who are you?”

“An ‘Oracle’...” There came a long pause,
and then amused laughter. “I find though that I am fond of the word
for such in your Falcanian tongue. Know me as Veheer.”

An attempt at a casual telepathic
examination of the spectral woman quickly revealed to Nadia that
this one’s mental powers far exceeded even those of her own.
Shifting her eyesight, an infrared scan made it clear to the Queen
this wasn't a fellow Morningstar, no blue light, or evidence of
positronics.
Damn! What is she?
IR reads zero, and no
biorhythms. A hologram
? “You didn’t answer,” her bright eyes
now dangerous slits. “Who are you?”

“I have stood before the Ziggurat of Ur, and
witnessed the dawn of civilization.” Veheer intoned. “Watched
humanity walk beside his gods, and a poet take a sword up against
his deity for the love of a woman.”

Being a Valküri, comfortable in the facade
of religion and mysticism Nadia was most familiar with the
trappings that this Oracle now employed. She herself routinely
manipulated others with such tricks and wondered why this obvious
superior mind felt the need to fall back on them when both women
understood the charade for its true nature.

“Upon a far off shore,” Veheer continued.
“At the edge of an emerald ocean, I beheld an empire rise from out
of ashes. Those driven from their cradle, soon before me became
masters of the universe, and as they did so, were worshiped like
gods out among bright stars.”

“Are you a product of Genetic
Konnections?”

For the first time since they met, Veheer
raised her eyes to look directly on the Falcanian Queen. Nadia
restrained a gasp as she gazed into deep black eyes that held no
white. Strikingly, a red tattoo in the form of the GenKon helix had
been written upon The Oracle’s forehead. Veheer’s race couldn’t be
determined, she looked deceptively young, her skin shined bright as
a star and Nadia recognized this as something akin to what the
Falcanians called the rahli’ka. Her aide’s own daughter had been
gifted by such an affliction. Had GenKon stumbled upon the gene
sequence that even she could not predict? It’s only reliable
predictor thus far proved to be it struck mostly females.

“I am Uric’s legacy,” Veheer smiled, and
ominously added. “Just as we all are.”

From the folds of her shroud The Oracle
tentatively extended her hand, she reached out to touch Nadia, who
let her fingers grasp the seemingly delicate fingertips. Both women
experienced a simpatico, flesh and mind dissolved in a mutual
reality that transcended each woman's temporal being. Nadia broke
the contact, for she feared that her selfdom might become lost
within Veheer’s wellspring of being. For a heartbeat Veheer looked
past Nadia, stared off into the dark, though what she witnessed she
alone could behold. The optical fiber web of time that unfolded in
a string of likely outcomes before her vast vision became
highlights. Veheer warned. “Bound by blood and a curse of a fallen
god are you three.”

“What?” Nadia didn't understand.

“You, Sharr and the other, the Sun-Angel.”
Veheer explained. “Countless lifetimes Sharr has tried to break the
cycle. You three are trapped in: Life, death, and resurrection.”
The Oracle looked like she might have overstepped her primary
intents. “You must let him save her, the Sun-Angel and re-balance
the scales. Fire awaits him there.” Lost still in the web of time,
Veheer warned. “Do not take the heart of the highborn bear when he
offers to sacrifice it to you. Do not slit the neck of she you
despise. Her death belongs to the Starblade, and it is she alone
who may slay her.”