WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) (16 page)

Such a strange world they had come to. All planets were unique, but scarlet skies and red snow? The flurry was still falling and already had partially covered
Assurance
. Ash shivered from the strong drafts of wind. Snowdrifts had begun to form inside the ship, rose-colored crystals gleaming brightly against the floor.

The thin, freezing air burned as he inhaled. Subject to lung conditions, Ash felt a shock of dread. He was at high altitude, in a snowstorm. His lungs had always been vulnerable to extreme cold. Had he come all this way just to die of exposure? Afraid and alone, he switched Icom back on. It relayed to him that there was no human habitation for hundreds of kilometers.

Ash put together the things he would need: the kit, blankets, medications and dried food, all carefully stored in a backpack. He was unable to find a scattergun or stun in the wreckage. Was it against Freeworld regulations for civilians to have them? He wouldn’t know how to use one anyway, he thought philosophically. But he did have a knife.

The Testimonials would have to remain where they were in the security console. On this forsaken mountaintop they would never be found. A thrill of fear surged through him. He might never be found either. He remembered the seer, breathed in deeply and said aloud, “I am Ashton, Trueborn of Delian. I am not afraid.” He shut his eyes and repeated it a number of times until the mantra calmed him.

What would his mother have done? Of course. She would reach out with mind-touch and contact the closest inhabitants. She would find the best way to get off this mountain. He had little experience with mind-touch, but he could think of no other option. Ash lay down, covering himself with a blanket.

Ash reached out with his mind, desperate.

There was no one at all close by.

He continued, seeking further, trembling. It was
so cold!

He brushed against something. Mental fingers sought to contact the unfamiliar intelligence. Was it even human? He had no idea.

Contact was sudden and startling.

Without a ripple, Ash’s consciousness gracefully slid into the unfamiliar form as though diving into a warm pool of water. A rush of relief flowed through him as he escaped his own cold and injured body. Instead of freezing temperatures and the pain of a broken arm, his empty belly burned with hunger. But also, in that instant of contact,
he could hear the snow fall
.

Ash’s mind registered this fact curiously, but accepted it.

A trace of something caused his nostrils to flare, a creature, warm, inviting … alive. The scent was twill; he knew the smell, the taste. His stomach muscles contracted in anticipation. A thrill of flowing adrenaline surged through him and Ash quivered at the thought of life — pulsing hot blood, fleshy tissue, oozing fat and muscle.

His nose twitched and his long thick tongue flicked out to lick his lips.

Ash’s new world came into focus.

His panting breath misted, fogged and swirled in the crisp, frosty air. Fascinated, Ash looked down and saw that his paws were wet as they moved through hulking drifts of blood-red snow. His crimson fleece steamed. In the bone-deep chill of an icy winter, Ash felt warm in the thick hide of this living fur coat. Comfortable and content, despite the burn of hunger, Ash looked out from within this foreign wolfish flesh and wondered where he was.

T
he pack leader’s mate, Seeta, was warm from the steady trot. The wolf pack was on the way to the man-ship. So far they had eaten two long-tail yellow rats and one twill. This had not been enough for them all. Seeta licked her lips, recalling its taste. The twill had been half-grown, but it would have made quite a satisfying meal for two. Unfortunately there were eight hungry wolves in Long Fang’s pack.

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.

L
ess 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?

U
ncertain 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.”