WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) (3 page)

In the long silence the sound of their breathing seemed loud.

Jarith shook his head. “Sorry, Ash. King’s business.” He bent down, embraced and kissed him. “Look after your mother for me, all right?” Tynan nuzzled Ash’s hand as Jarith clipped a lead on him. The wolfhound was so large that Jarith didn’t even need to bend to reach the animal’s collar.

“I will,” Ash said.

“I’ll be right back, Ash,” Sartha said. “I’ll see your father out.”

Sartha and Jarith walked through the corridors and lounge area of
Assurance,
and down the ramp, to the desert. Tynan followed tamely behind them.

A rustling sound seemed loud in the desert silence. It disturbed Jarith’s thoughts and he stiffened, looking toward the source of the noise. A bo-plant was closing its leaves in the evening dusk. He studied the sunburnt landscape, alert for intruders, accessing Icom proximity alarms. They were definitely alone, yet the knowledge, instead of providing relief, seemed more like an evil portent. It was as though all living things had fled like birds sensing an imminent storm.

Jarith took Sartha’s arm. “Better hurry. I might be missed. If there’s a search and
Assurance
is found …” he paused, unwilling to speak of the consequences. Jarith wrapped his arms around Sartha and they held each other tightly, unwilling to let her go.

Their mouths came together, in sudden desperation.

After a long moment they broke apart, eyes locked, hearts pounding.

“Sartha,” Jarith whispered, breaking the spell. “Tell Ashton …” his voice trailed off. What could she tell him? He was only a child!
The Seer was wrong.
His people would escape. His mind strayed for a moment, drawn to the details of mass departure once more. His teeth clenched.
No
. Jarith thrust his thoughts aside and forced a smile. “Just tell Ash that I love him.”

As Sartha boarded
Assurance
Jarith projected a positive mental touch to his wife. He felt the same confident promise radiating from her. Having never hidden a thought or feeling from each other, they did so now with unvoiced agreement. Each hid a crushing fear. The future was dark but not unknown: it had been cast.

The airlock doors closed with the finality of a burial vault. Tynan pulled restively against his collar, whined and barked and barked. Jarith kept a firm grip on the animal’s lead. His rapid stride took them from the liftoff area, to a safe distance where they both watched and waited.

Minutes later, with a circle of blue flame,
Assurance
was gone.

Tynan’s agitation and restlessness vanished. The wolfhound sat unmoving. The King too remained still. He stood staring at the empty sky well after
Assurance
was out of sight. King Jarith Chayton’s features were strained and ashen, his emotions no longer concealed.

Despair was written across his face, obvious for all to see — even to those not Trueborn.

All souls suffer the Dark Sankomin. If one is in the present, if the mind remains in attendance, the Sankomin cannot seize or bind. The Sankomin is a combination of all that has been and all that can be. It is not evil in itself: it merely is. Time is like a river and the mind is the water. When the water flows, all is well and sequential, in chronological order. However, these past events, encompassing all the conscious feelings within them — thought, pain and emotion — can fall on one en masse. They attach to one’s soul like metal filings drawn to a magnet. At times presenting as burdened river eddies, they dam the river and the mind becomes bound. It will not flow. The Dark Sankomin is solid, a heavy mass in the mind, a dark burden to the soul. Unresolved, it will cause madness and despair.

— Seer Foweraker,
The Interpretations

A
sh woke, temporarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings. This was not his bed. He was in a bunk, secured by protective webbing. Taking a deep breath of air that had a recycled tang, Ash both felt and heard a rhythmic kind of hum.

I’m on a spaceship, traveling to another world.

But why? Nothing made sense. They had left in a departure so secret that even he didn’t know until the last moment. A United Worlds Government warship,
Conqueror,
had been in orbit around Delian. Warships protected the Freeworlds, yet
Conqueror
seemed somehow menacing. Was that why they had left? Could they actually be running away?

He studied the King’s Mirror, the blue armguard that circled his thigh. It looked silly there, but it was too big for his thin arm. His father had given it to him, yet the talisman belonged with the King. Everyone knew that. He had tried to give it to his mother for safekeeping, but she had refused, insisting he wear it at all times.

Rolling on to his back, Ash stared at the concave structure above him and considered the matter. There were heavy restrictions on space travel; it was a privilege granted only to members of the government or the armed services. He was lucky to be on
Assurance
. But his unanswered questions, combined with his mother’s anxiety, took away the pleasure of being in space. Ash grimaced, remembering the last of a stream of questions he had asked her.

His mother had secrets.

Ash knew about secrets, because he had secrets of his own. He thought of Tynan back on Delian and wished he was here. It felt strange to be without him. Ash had been drawn to Tynan at first sight. Separate from his litter mates, solemn and a little regal, the lonely little creature had reminded him of himself. They had been together ever since.

For some time now, Ash had been aware of the unique bond he had with Tynan. That was his first big secret.

Ash stared, remembering. Last year he and his ridiculous hound had been playing hide and seek. It was a silly pastime, as Ash always knew where Tynan was and Tynan knew that Ash knew. This time, Ash had pretended he had no idea that Tynan was behind a rock overlooking a small ledge. Tynan had jumped out barking and Ash had leaped in feigned surprise. But Ash’s fabricated astonishment quickly became genuine as he slipped, fell from the ten-meter-high cliff and broke his leg.

A wave of throbbing pain rolled through his body and he had almost fainted. But then from somewhere inside a burning gust of hot wind had come. It blasted through his flesh like a firestorm tearing through a dry pine forest.

Ash’s power flamed to life for the first time.

All his pain flew away, was blown away by a hot dry wind.

And at that exact moment, Ash
became
Tynan.

He sprinted from within the wolfhound’s body, strangely comfortable and familiar with four strong legs and a tail. Ash became conscious of the cool damp forest air as it moved across his thick, warm fur, knew the rich smells of earth, new growth and the musky odor of different animals and their tracks. He became aware of a mother bird feeding her babies, two distinct high pitched soft calls from high above. There were few insects in the woods, yet they buzzed so loudly! His aural awareness was so acute that he could discern the difference between a fly and a wasp meters away. He smelled a mole in its earth hideaway as he passed and heard the soft scratchy sounds of underground burrowing.

While his hearing and sense of smell were far superior in Tynan’s body, the colors Ash saw were much less vibrant. Greens were soft and dark, like shaded moss; yellows seemed muted, more like churned cream, not yet turned to the gold of butter; while blue was almost gray, and gray was everywhere. Astonishingly, all red disappeared. His wolfhound could not perceive shades of red or violet at all. In his human form Ash saw his dog’s favorite chew toy as a bright cherry red — yet all this time it had been gray-black to Tynan.

For almost an hour Ash experienced a whole new world through his friend’s senses. He had fully
become
Tynan as his wolfhound’s lithe, strong, sinewy body flowed with speed and agility. Together they raced back to the castle to raise the alarm and bring help. Ash found that he had lost consciousness, deep in that wood. But his power had taken control, unexpectedly bringing him, awake and aware, into Tynan.

While he had not yet learned to ride Tynan’s body at will, he had joined with him by accident a number of times. He loved the feel of his friend’s strength and vitality, and he didn’t mind the muted colors. Yet even four legs could not make up for a lack of human hands. Ash smiled. He recalled how once he had attempted to reach a cup of water while in Tynan’s body. It was human habit, his unthinking urge to make Tynan grasp something when his paws had no fingers or thumb to hold with.

Ash used Icom to retract
Assurance’s
protective sleep web. The web molded to his slim form, moving in his sleep as needed — he had become used to it. Then he jumped out of bed and reached for his clothes.

Ash kept his ability secret, because mental contact with an animal was considered impossible. He hated being different. If he had a choice he would prefer to be common and unnoticed, exactly like everyone else. Delians loved their monarchy and royalty watching was the people’s pastime. Nowhere could there be more loyal or loving subjects. As heir apparent, even undersized and sickly, the people of Delian treasured him.

Ash pulled on his jeans, reflecting that he was almost never left alone. It was another reason to enjoy his time on
Assurance
. If he was on Delian right now, his valet would be attempting to dress him — probably in something formal. With satisfaction he pulled on a treasured old sweater, something Hen would never have let him wear outside of his own quarters. Ash was cared for and cosseted by footmen, valets, groomsmen, tutors, and numerous personal physicians. He couldn’t sneeze without an army of panicked attendants worrying lest it presage oncoming illness. He hated it, but with stoic fortitude, he accepted it. Everyone loved him and wanted to help. He was trapped by affection and smothered by constant attentive kindness.

Surrounded by people, isolated by circumstances, Ash had no intention of further defining his differences by confiding to anyone about his bond with Tynan — at least not until yesterday, when he had found Mother Latnok in the forest.
More like she found me,
he realized.
But why had she come? And why had she continued to call him “young wolf?” Ash
swallowed, caught in the memory. He recalled the angry chill of her power. It had ignited the heat of his own gift. Something had happened while he was with her. For a moment, he had known some truth … something important.

Trueborn! Inhuman!

Ash frowned and shook his head. When his straight black hair fell into his eyes he pushed it back. Well, that fleeting awareness was out of reach now. Meeting with the seer was Ash’s second big secret. Like his bond with Tynan, Ash felt uncomfortable whenever he thought of confiding these events to anyone.

Dressed, he held his breath, listening. The ship hummed, alive with energy. He grinned. Despite everything it was still exciting to be in space.
Assurance
had already entered Omni via the Delian corridor. Theory postulated that natural law was suspended when in Omni-space, allowing rapid travel between worlds. To the human eye Omni-space appeared as a kind of a dirty gray fog.

“Mother?” he called.

“In navigation, Ash.”

For a moment her anxiety vibrated like a small insect trapped in his mind. It set his teeth on edge. For once her disquiet had nothing to do with his health. But why was she afraid? He frowned, recalling the ominous red dawn and his inexplicable fear. He had sensed danger then, a cold hard threat. Had his mother felt it, too? With mental awareness he reached out, searching, scanning.

Nothing. He didn’t feel it now.

A small service bot moved aside to let him pass as he jumped up to the landing. “I’m hungry, mother,” he yelled. He could hear her on the upper landing, probably in navigation. A day shipboard and he was already bored with the auto-chef menu.

“I thought you might be.”

Ash imagined her smiling as she worked. He had discovered a modest appetite and even put on a tiny bit of weight over the last few months, allaying his parents’ anxiety. Now that he was thirteen maybe he would actually grow.

“There’s warm kasha in the keep.” Kasha was a pungent, spicy nut indigenous to Delian. It had a savory flavor, a kind of peppery cumin taste.

“Thanks.” Ash placed meat and culdish cheese in his kasha roll and munched on it as he scanned his surroundings. The ship was an unending source of interest, from self-molding chairs and sleep webs to scenery-changing holovid walls. Such walls were common in many homes, but he wasn’t used to them. He had the antiquated glories of priceless paintings to view in the castle, not modern holovids that cycled photos.

On the lower level, Ash started toward navigation but paused on the landing. Near the portal was a plaque with the bright blue Delian emblem on it. He read,
R.D.S. ASSURANCE
2322. Standing up on tiptoe, he touched the plaque, awed.
Assurance
had to be the last of her kind. When the United Worlds Government made warships redundant, the rest of the Delian Fleet had been decommissioned and sold.

The UWG had been humanity’s salvation, according to his history lessons. The human race came close to extinction during what was now known as the “Age of Perdition.” Millions of colonists had died during those destructive times. Many once-fertile worlds were now uninhabitable wastelands because of the use of world-destroying weapons.

Under the plaque was written, “Totus est pro optimus.” Ash snorted. Latin. No one spoke it, but for some reason it was traditional for space vessels to carry their motto in the ancient tongue. He stared at the foreign words and his Icom implant obliged him by translating,
“All is for the best
.” Ash frowned. That was a strange battle cry for a fighting ship. Perhaps her engineers, realizing they were building the last Delian warship, gave her that reassuring yet fatalistic name and motto. Still, it probably
was
for the best.

Without warning, an unseen force struck him, punching the air from his lungs like a fist to the chest. Ash gasped, his vision darkened — and he heard a scream.

No, that wasn’t right. He didn’t
hear
a scream.

He
felt
it
.

A small part of his consciousness puzzled over this for an instant. The screaming stopped. The immediate empty silence seemed even more frightening.
No!
Nauseating, choking fire exploded in his lungs.

Ash’s
mind shrieked in blind panic,
Air! Give me air! I can’t breathe!

Gasping, Ash fell to the floor. His head swam, his ears rang and he knew that he had been screaming. He knew without seeing her that his mother had been screaming, too.

His chest burned, but more devastating was the thick, black desolation of despair. It slammed into him hard, an emotional avalanche that buried him alive.

It was agony —
agony.

It went on forever.

Then, mercifully, the blackness of unconsciousness overtook him.

A
soft white noise whirred, the sound of an engine engaged in significant work, the rhythmic hum of hydrogen propulsion. The resonance was so all-pervading that it was almost impossible to identify without intently listening. Aboard a spaceship, it was a familiar hum one would not normally perceive unless the sound stopped. On
Assurance
the sound did not stop.

The Delian warship, virtually self-reliant, moved through space guided by Icom. It discerned and measured temperatures, as well as a variety of waves: electromagnetic, sound, and gravitational. Hyper-aware of its own systems, spectral analysis of the surrounding space, as well as the physical parameters of the organic life forms on board, the vessel had all-encompassing physical perceptions, yet it could not measure emotion.

The two life forms on board
did
feel emotion. When the people of Delian had been gassed, those on board
Assurance
felt their death on a psychic level. Ash and his mother experienced nausea and a choking inability to breathe as well as terror, grief, and death’s despair. Thankfully, the crushing desolation had pulled them into unconsciousness, where they, like
Assurance
, felt nothing at all, at least not until they woke …