Quadrant Chronicles—A menagerie of life’s unpredictable events. You never know what you might find.
Life throws curve balls into everyday events even in the Oredal Quadrant. How the Oredals deal with those events, might decide an Oredals future.
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Angels Have No Wings
Copyright © 2013
AE Roud
ISBN: 978-1-77111-495-0
Cover art by Carmen Waters
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Angels Have No Wings
Oredal Quadrant Chronicles Book One
By
AE Roud
Millennia past, the Oredals designated the planet Prin, one of the inner planets, as an agricultural planet because of the vast variety of items that Prin could grow. Where other planets specialized in one or two items, Prin grew on average six to eight varieties, and produced more in a single crop.
Prin’s largest city, Sharpak, claimed title to being the fastest-growing population center on the planet since the inclusion of the Falory into the Oredal’s central planet system. All over Sharpak, new construction of homes, schools, stores and hospitals, pushed the building boom.
Several hours before dawn when most people, the exception being farmers, were asleep, an energy wave caressed the planet, creating an aurora borealis. On a small farm five miles outside of Sharpak, a female Falory, heavy with cub, was tending her morning chores, when the flash of lights and crackle of ozone overhead, gained her attention. She stood transfixed and watched the waves of brilliant green, red and blue lights flash overhead. As quick as it came, it ended.
With the overhead event over, she knelt down to cut the band on a bail of fodder, and felt a sharp pain course through her abdomen. The pain was severe and she grabbed the lower fence rail to keep from falling face first to the muddy ground as the first contraction tormented her body. When the pain receded and her head cleared, she used the fence for support and stood. She knew then, contrary to her pediatric life holder’s belief, her time to give birth was at hand.
She smiled as she rubbed her swollen body through her skirt. Under her warm hand, the large bulge moved. She stood mesmerized by the feel of the life within her until another sharp pain made her grab the top fence rail to remain on her feet. She focused on a distant barn wall and began to breathe as she learned to do at the local life hold classes to help expectant first time mothers through the experience of birth. When the contraction ended, the female Falory relaxed.
Her mind filled with memories of the many nights this cub kept her awake as it tossed, turned and kicked. She gave a low growl at the memories of her final months that tripled her urination and made her ill at the sight and smell of certain foods. Her memories included the pain at the loss of her partner. He was killed in a shuttle accident just three weeks before that morning. Another contraction raged through her body, and brought her back to the moment and her need to finish her morning routine.
With the passage of that contraction, she knelt again and picked up several flakes of fodder, stood, inhaled deep then tossed the flakes into the pen. The two large domesticated Grimai females, each with young of their own, walked over sniffed at the flakes then changed places when the dominate female growled and snapped at the other wanting the other flake. With flakes chosen, the females settled down and began their breakfast feed. Their young settled also each on an inflamed teat to suckle. After checking their water, the female turned and started for the front door of her meager furnished home.
She reached her front door before another contraction, a much stronger one that almost buckled her knees, began to ravage her body again. She gripped the doorframe for support, focused on a place where the paint was chipped, and breathed as taught in the birth classes. When that contraction passes, she relaxed again and entered her house.
Inside her home, the stark white of the painted walls reflected her voluminous shape in shadow as she walked through the kitchen area and into the front room where her personal communication unit waited for use. She pressed a button that dialed the preset emergency number at the Sharpak Life Hold. The line popped and sputtered with the sounds of static. She cleared the line and tried again but only heard static.
Bewildered, she sighed. “It figures, that anomaly earlier must have knocked out the relay station,” she said to the continually brightening room.
Turning from the console, she walked into her sleeping den. A few minutes later, she returned to the front room with a bundle of clothes in her hand, went to the communications unit and tried the emergency number again. She only heard more pops and clicks of static.
She placed her hand on her extended belly as she looked out at the Grimai pens. “Cub, I have only one option left, and I hope I make it, or you will be born on the road to Sharpak.”
She tried the emergency number one last time with the same results. She cleared the console, and with a determined look on her face, began what she knew would be the longest walk into town she ever made. On a normal day her pace got her to town in an hour and a half. For this day she felt it would be at least twice that, probably more.
As the morning’s summer sun warmed the rich soil, not long into her walk, the onset of another contraction made her turn for the side of the lonely dirt road. A huge, rough gray boulder became the point of her focus as the contraction ripped through her body. It passed, her body relaxed and her mind cleared. It was then she remembered the conversation with her pediatric life holder at her last checkup three days before.
“I see no problems with you or your cub. Everything is going as it should. I believe you will go over your due date a few days as the cub is not yet turned into the proper birthing position.”
At that appointment the final prognosis was the cub would not come into the universe until the next week. Yet, Mother Nature conceived other ideas and now she stood on the side of a dirt road, focused on a boulder the size of her house, to get through a contraction. When it ended, she relaxed against the boulder and was not prepared for the sudden onset of the next one.
Severe pain seared through her body and she screamed as the pain increased. The inside of her legs were suddenly wet. With palms pressed solidly against the boulder, she tried to breathe through the contraction and failed. With her jaws clenched and her eyes closed, she slowly sank to her knees on the hard, rocky ground. Her sweat fell to the dusty dirt road and sent up a mini cloud of dust. The blood pounded in her ears and she gasped when she felt her cub move further into the birth canal. When that contraction passed, she got to her feet turned and leaned against the huge boulder and knew then she would not make it to town to birth her cub in the safety of the Sharpak Life Hold. The next contraction, she felt the cub move a lot, the pain in her abdomen increased many fold.
“Stop!” she held on as the contraction played havoc with her body. After it passed, she hiked up the front of her long skirt and made a personal exploration of her body that told her she was much closer to giving birth than she thought. “Just my luck.” She wiped the sweat from her face with the bottom of her skirt and looked around for a suitable place to bear her cub as her ancient quadruped ancestors did, in the wild.
On the side of the road where she stood, was the hard, rocky ground of a black volcanic wasteland turning to grassland. Wild flowers poked up and around the black chunky rocks. Although a beautiful mix of blue, white, yellow and red flowers on green and yellow stalks of all shapes and sizes, the area was not at all inviting for her need. Looking to the other side, a short distance from the road she saw the lush coolness of a small forest and toward that, she began to walk.
As she entered the dense overgrowth the darkening light enveloped her. The thick canopy above blocked most of the sunlight. The smell of rotten wood and unseen life assailed her senses. She snorted to clear her sensitive nose as she struggled around and through the low heavy underbrush that snagged her skirt and further hampered her walk.
She looked at the dead trees around her, spotted a fallen tree, held aloft by another under it. Dropping to her knees between the two fallen trees, she found the ground there was soft enough for her to dig a hole large enough that she could remain on her knees and birth her cub. She broke the soil apart and dug out a shallow pit. Into this shallow hole, she dragged leaves and supple branches to give support, then grass and more leaves and on top, some of the extra clothing she’d brought from home. With the hole dug and prepared, she removed her long skirt and eased herself down to her knees and waited for nature to take its course.
As the sunshine of the summer day shone down in patches through the canopy of the small forest, a female cub, with tan fur and evenly spaced black stripes, was born. The cub’s sudden cries sent birds in a nearby tree to flight.
With the birth process over and behind her, the new mother turned her full attention to her cub. She wiped as much of the birth matter off the cub and checked the small creature over, counted and kissed each finger, toe, ears and eyes, inhaling of the cub’s scent to imprint, then wrapped the cub in some of the extra clothing, then set the cub to her breast for the all important, first milk. As her cub suckled, mom relaxed against the log and covered them both up with her long, wide skirt.
Movement to her left, put her on alert. If needed, she could bring her claws to action. She relaxed after a moment as she watched a black and white rabbit, hop within touching distance. The rabbit munched on grass completely unaware of the predator hidden in the shallow hole, so close the two could almost touch.
The tigress remained very still. Her stripe markings blended in with the movement of the shadows from the trees overhead.
When the rabbit did look up, their gazes met and the air between them froze in the moment. Senses locked. The tigress could almost hear the rabbit’s heartbeat increase. A flash of fear crossed the rabbit’s eyes. The cub’s sudden mews broke the sacred moment.
As the tigress turned her attention to her cub, the rabbit sprinted off with a zigzag motion into tall green and yellow grass opposite the birth lair.
With the cub set again to nursing, the tigress relaxed. Her acute hearing pinpointed the rabbit across the way as it moved through the tall grass toward safety. The little creature just learned a valuable lesson and if used again, the small animal would live to see more days.
The tigress yawned, showing her long canines in the sparse sunlight. Looking up through the canopy, she let her thoughts drift to a time not long ago when her mate lived and the joy they shared in the short time they were together.
Falory, although not a monogamous species, were a matriarchal society. Females chose the males they wanted to have cubs with and live in their compound. Most males chose to move in as a tigress with cubs was never without food. Once in a compound, a male gained access to more breeding females. Accepting a female’s offer was most advantageous for a male that no longer wanted the title of rogue.