Friday, September 25, 2015

JOURNEY OF THE SEARCHING STAR The Horse Clans' Colony - an exerpt

          

An Abridged Sample
This post is rated R for sexual content.




CHAPTER ONE




        Belderon was a big change from Aledus for Hankura and Chelle. Aside from the absence of the discriminatory psi laws, the cities were older and more classic in their brick and mortar architecture. The streets of Tesen, the world capitol, were crowded with pedestrians both on and off the beltways. Few people took notice of the couple during their long belt ride to their hotel from the Tesen Starport where they'd left the Arius Mran, their private space craft. The few that noticed them mostly were admiring his wife, and he couldn't blame them. She was a tall, well proportioned woman with unusually blue eyes, a feminine oval face with attractive features and red hair that fell nearly to her waist.
        Hankura was tall, of medium build with thick, dark hair and intense emerald eyes and a strong angled jawline. In fact, the two together made a impressive couple who were hard not to notice. Others were fellow psi-paths who acknowledged them respectfully.
        Tesen had all the modern conveniences. It just didn't look as modern and pristine as Salla. The Tesmont Hotel was a mundane red brick building. The decor was quaint, but their suite was comfortably a large with all tech needed to make the comfortable. It was more than adequate for their twenty day layover until the Searching Star sent down a shuttle to pick them up to start their five year exploration tour.
        After everything that happened on Aledus, Hankura wasn't sure if they were ready for the challenge. They had been ready and looking forward to a new start until his mother's psionic attack during her mental breakdown had nearly killed him and Chelle both. Chelle was a latent telepath and telekinetic healer living in the ruins of Farringay on Earth when they touched minds as children.                 Hankura was in a passenger freighter orbiting Earth on his way to a boarding school for psions far from his home. That night, two scared children formed a psionic bond that brought Hankura back to find the woman who claimed his heart and soul as he claimed hers.
        Life on Aledus realized most of his misgivings about going back. The discriminating laws against psions landed him in jail for defending his wife from an attacker. Guilty until proven innocent. Even after he was proven innocent, he was banned from the cities and fired from his job.
        His mother, Natar, a victim of extreme psi-conditioning on Aledus suffered a mental break when Hankura told her they were leaving to join the space exploration. A stronger telepath, she had planted seeds in Hankura's mind that Chelle had ruined his life. Natar hated Chelle and meant to kill her. The potency of that hatred planted in his mind caused him to turn on Chelle and attempt to finish what his mother started.
        Thank the goddess, his love for her won out! … And thank the Mother, Chelle had forgiven him!
Hankura's stood staring out the window of the sitting room at the bustle of pedestrians in the street below. The memories still pained him, and it was hard to keep them out of his thoughts…
        "My head wants to explode...a terrible nightmare...oh, my head," he groaned.
        "Poor darling." She put her arm over him and kissed his cheek. "Let me get you a med-dot; it'll help." Suddenly, he turned and grabbed her upper arms so tightly it hurt.
        "Don't leave me alone. Don't go, please," he pleaded.
        "No, honey. Of course, I won't leave you alone," she assured him. "The med-dots are just in the drawer over there. You can watch me get them. I promise I won't be out of your sight. Okay?"
        Hankura nodded and gradually released his vise grip on her arm. The red imprints of his fingers remained on her flesh for several minutes afterward. He shifted his eyes to watch her cross the bedroom; he didn't dare move his head because movement would only increase the throbbing pain. Why did it hurt so? Why was he so terrified?
        "What's the matter with me?" he asked suddenly.
        "You've been in shock ... from a psi attack," she said carefully.
        "Who? I don't remember." He blinked in an attempt to focus his thoughts.
        "Hank...it was...N-Natar," she stammered. "She didn't want us to go with the Searching Star."
        "No! She couldn't," he denied sharply.
        "Couldn't she?" Chelle asserted. "You feared it all along. That's why..."
        "No, don't say that! Get the hell out of here and leave me alone, you lying bitch! Terran whore!"
How dare she accuse his mother!
        Chelle started to back out of the room, and Hankura jumped up from the bed and caught her wrist. 
        "Liar!" He yanked her toward him and slapped her so hard that she landed sprawling on the bed. He lunged at her and landed heavily on top of her. He knocked the wind out of her momentarily and she struggled to catch her breath.
        "Hankura, please. I'm sorry. I'm not lying. You're hurting me." Chelle stared up at him through eyes full of tears and tinged with fear.
        "Oh, am I?" he hissed. "I could easily kill you." He emphasized those words by curling his fingers around her throat.
        Her eyes widened and she gasped as his tightening grip began to choke her. She could hardly fathom that the same hands that had caressed her so tenderly so often would actually choke the life from her. She gasped again, the weight of his body adding to her difficulty in breathing. She squirmed beneath him, trying desperately to tear his fingers from her throat.
        Hankura, I love you. Don't do this. Do you want me to die? When his grip only tightened, her eyes closed and her body went limp. Kill me quickly, if you must. Then she sent him the image of a blue-green yarrel flower that had been a symbol of their love on Aledus. That reached back into his memory to before Natar's attack had twisted his reason as she attempted to destroy his love for Chelle.
        No!” Hankura let out a strangled cry and let go of her throat. He sat up, gripped her shoulders and shook her. "Mother of Life, what have I done? Don't die she-ell. Dear Goddess, don't die." Quickly, he pressed his ear to her chest. Her heart was racing and she was breathing ragged at first, but growing steadily more even. But when she opened her eyes as he held her, the fear was still there, and he felt it. The strain of the psychic shock and that incident caused him to black out and bury the memory for a time. He had been devastated when he finally did remember.
        It just hurt so damn much! How could he have done that?
        Chelle came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist and laid her head against his back. Don't do this to yourself, my love. I have forgiven you. Forgive yourself. I know you love me, and I know that's why you couldn't go through with it.
        But I hurt you nonetheless.
        Nothing I couldn't fix. I'm a healer remember?
        I was selfish to take you to Aledus in the first place. In the back of my mind I knew Mother wouldn't accept you, and I knew how we would both would be treated there.
        But they are your family. Natar's treatment at the Psi Institute caused her to do those things to us. Their conditioning drove her to madness. When she was totally lucid, she was happy for us and loving. You needed that and you needed to understand exactly why your parents sent you away. The only way to do that was to go to Aledus and experience life there as an adult.
        Hankura's turned to face her folding his arms around her. I know. I just can't forget the way I made you feel.
        It's over. The urge that made you hurt me came from her mind, not yours. Don't let it haunt you. Remember how good we feel when we are one. I love you… Feel it… Know it.
        Chelle wound her arms around his neck and turned her mouth up for his kiss. His kiss was gentle at first his mouth teasing and caressing her lips until he sensed she wanted more. Their kissing deepened and became sensually arousing. She made and inarticulate sound of pleasure and pressed her body tight to his, wanting him. Then she was tugging at the zipper on his shirt.
        They helped each other off with their clothing until they were naked, then paused for a moment just to look at each other. Hankura's body was lean a with a taunt abdomen and good muscle definition in his, chest, abs, arms, and legs. As he saw himself through Chelle's eyes he became even more aroused. She loved everything about him as he loved her.
        He found her body, perfectly defined in his eyes. She was not as tall is he---her forehead was exactly the height of his mouth. She had a lovely long neck straight shoulders and beautiful round breasts, ample but not too large, a tapered waist, lovely rounded hips and buttocks, with long, shapely legs.
       He held out his hands to her, and she placed hers into his as they came together body to body mouth to mouth. He released her hands to frame her face he kissed her. This beautiful, flame haired woman was the most precious thing in his life and he in hers. Without words she told him how she wanted to please him. He released her mouth and she worked her way down over his chin, his neck, his chest, and lower---kissing, tasting, and nibbling. He moaned aloud his arousal complete.
        She wanted him inside her. Again he took her hands and drew her up the length of him and they moved to the bed together. He lay down first and she knew instinctively to climb on top. It was her turn to moan aloud as she straddled him and lowered herself over him. Together they felt so good.
        As she rocked over him, he reached up and caressed her. By then they were both so aroused they came quickly---together, explosively. She collapsed against his chest, with him still inside her and they kissed tenderly. He rolled them over so Chelle was on the bottom. It was his turn to tease and taste her.
        He could feel her pleasure as she moaned and caressed his head, running her fingers through his thick dark hair. He enjoyed it as much as she did because he knew it made her throb the way he throbbed when he was aroused. Kissing and tasting his way down over her belly and lower, driving her to climax again. It didn't take a telepath to know she wanted him inside her again. Feeling the intensity of her desire quickly made him completely ready.
        Now do it now! And suddenly he couldn't wait any longer either. He quickly moved over her as she parted her thighs for him. He filled her, knowing her exact threshold between pleasure and pain. Again she cried out loud, an inarticulate sound, and wrapped her legs around his hips to pull him deep inside her. She was still in the throes of her orgasm and they moved slowly, very slowly, drawing out the pleasure of their oneness. Then he brought them both to orgasm again. In their minds' eye, the water that was their passion, the water in the fountain at its center their sexual pleasure, as it rose higher and higher. When it reached its apex they came together in a magnificent orgasm that sent waves of pleasure vibrating through their minds as well as their bodies.
        It was so much more than sexual pleasure that melded them together mind and body. It was love in its purest form, and their mutual sexual satisfaction was a grand bonus. They lay together joined for a long time after their orgasm subsided basking in their oneness.
        Hankura kissed her tenderly, letting himself feel the strength of her love echoing through his mind. He gave his love to her as freely as he received hers. He felt the love they shared healing his soul. Finally, Hankura began to forgive himself for what he had been unable to control.
        Their joining took them to a place where the past in the future didn't exist---only they two in the love that bound them together.
        Eventually they parted and Chelle lay with their head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her shoulders and they slept.


CHAPTER TWO





        Some 500 years before Hankura and Chelle had even met, another chain of events was set in motion that would eventually touch their lives:
        A knock on the door of his den interrupted Grant McKell as he was leafing through his wife's private journal, or might he have given into the grief that threatened to overwhelm him. In his bittersweet musings, she was still alive, But Marcus Solomon's knock jolted him back to the painful present.
        " Come in," he said and Marcus opened the door.
" We'll be ready for you soon, Grant. The three graves have been dug." His friend said grimly. "God, I still can't believe that Victor would do such a thing."
        Grant stared down at the pale blue, plastic cover of Wynne's journal on his desk. The pain inside threatened to consume him, and he blinked at the moist haze in his eyes. " But he did. He killed her with his own hands. He killed her, and I'm going to kill him---long and slow. Wynne never did anything to him…"
        "She picked you," Marcus reminded him gently.
        "Then he should've settled with me! He didn't have to kill her!" His voice grated, hoarse with emotion.
        "No, he didn't. I don't even think he meant too. She must have fought him to give Kean and Felice a chance to escape. Luke Travis and Redd Monson found your son and daughter in the forest. They were cold and hungry and scared, but okay. Lynae fed them up and put them to bed."
        "Do they know their mother is dead?" Grant rasped.
        "Yeah, I think they do. But they're still in shock… Everyone is. We just got all the fires put out in the last hour. Half the town was destroyed, and we lost a lot of valuable equipment."
        "And the lab?" Grant demanded.
        "We saved it."
        "Good. How many horses?"
        "Thirteen. Victor's men killed some and stole the rest."
        "Damn! Not enough left to go after them. We can't risk the few we have left for revenge. That will have to wait… But our dead will be avenged. Victor Rode will pay! They will all pay."
        Marcus nodded grimly, his eyes filled with compassion. Only a man who loved a woman as Grant had loved Wynne Schaefer could understand how Grant was feeling. Marcus hadn't. He only knew his friend was hurting deeply.
        "Tell the others I'll be there in awhile," Grant said after a moment. "I'd like to be alone for little while longer."
        "I understand. I'll tell them." Marcus turned slowly and left the room.

#


Personal journal of Wynne Schaefer - McKell
Supplement by Grant McKell


October 23
        Two years have passed since your ruthless murder, my beloved. Our children have grown tall and blossomed without you. I know they still miss you but they have adapted better to life without you than I have. Not even revenge was taken away the emptiness. I killed Victor Rode today. I made him suffer for every moment of torment I suffered, for those brief moments you suffered at his hands. Yet nothing is really changed.
        You are still gone and I am alone with the guilt I will carry for the rest of my life. I fear my revenge will spill the blood of our children's children---maybe their children, too. I killed Victor Rode; now his son may one day come to kill me to avenge his father. Then our son may kill him. All of their blood will be on my hands.
        I know in my heart that what I did was wrong, but I'm still too filled with hate to feel much remorse. Victor Rode deserved every moment of pain he suffered for all the years he stole from us, you and me and our children together---for the children you'll never have with me now.
        I hope one day they will forgive me for this bitter blood feud I have begun. Maybe one day I will forgive myself.


On the World They Called Demus
        Brandt McKell reined his big buckskin stallion to a halt and squinted against the glare of the morning sun on the desert sand. He raised a wide, powerful hand to the brim of his leather hat for added protection, but his sensitive blue eyes still watered in the brightness. He had traveled through the cool of the desert night for most of the journey. Now, for the last leg, he must travel by day or risk missing his destination entirely.
        He gazed around him, trying to get a fix on a familiar landmark from his Uncle Jared's descriptions. To the right, there was nothing but sand and scrub vegetation stretching toward the rising foothills of the Cerulean Mountain's in the distance. There, he made his home with this clansmen but right now he was glad for the distance between them.
        Ahead and slightly to his left he caught sight of something incongruous with the natural desert scenery. He blinked at the moisture in his eyes, and a slow grin creased his darkly bearded face. This must be his destination.
        Brandt was on his way to the ancient space shuttle that had crashed in the desert at least 500 years before his birth. It was his turn to reactivate the signal beacon. Maybe his would be the signal that was finally answered by a company ship. Or maybe his signal would bring the Mesaarkans to destroy them all. Brandt couldn't know which. He only knew this task was his destiny, that he had been groomed for it since childhood.
        After a moment Brandt dismounted and shrugged his left shoulder rubbing it with his hand to ease out some of the lingering soreness. The deep stab wound just below his collarbone had healed over into a livid star only a tenday before he left Blue Summit. His mother had pleaded with him to wait a little longer before he made the journey, but he needed the time and distance between him and his brother Lexis. The bitterness that lay between them hurt more than the lingering soreness from the wound. But he should have known better.
        Brandt gave himself a mental shrug and took his water skin from his saddle. For him, there could only be a present in the future. Looking back on the recent past was nearly as painful as the wound that almost ended his life. His brother had tried to kill him, and a truth of the matter between them had only lessened his enmity a little. He doubted his brother would ever really understand what made him do what he did; Brandt wasn't sure he understood himself.
        He let out a rueful sigh and open the half filled water skin. Then put it to his lips and filled mouth with water, savoring the wetness for a few seconds before he swallowed. After a couple more mouthfuls, he poured some of the precious water into a small sun hardened gourd for his horse. The stallion drank slowly as he had, almost as though he too knew the meager water ration would have to last a while.
        When the gourd was empty, the horse---Shad---nuzzled his master appreciatively and snorted. Brandt grinned and gave his mount an affectionate pat. It was descended from the first specially engineered horses that Grant McKell had designed and grown in nurturing tanks from exclusive genetic material he brought to Demus. These animals were stronger larger and faster than any horse on Earth. Their genes were mapped from the best characteristics of a dozen breeds, and they possessed intelligence considerably superior to their predecessors.
        Brandt didn't think about these things as he rubbed the horse's soft muzzle. He had raised the great stallion from a spindly legged colt. Now the rapport they shared was such that Shad often knew what Brandt wanted before he asked. They took care of each other.
        After a brief respite, Brandt hung the water skin back on the saddle and took up the reins in his hand. He would walk for awhile to conserve his horses strength for later when he might need it more… Precisely if what he saw in the distance was not his destination after all. As he continued walking in a northwesterly direction, Shad fell into step behind him with no urging. Two hours later, the shuttle came clearly into view. It lay like a battered toy embedded into a mound of sand about a klick and half from where Brandt stood squinting against the midday sun.
        What caught his eyes however was a cloud of dust about one hundred meters to was right halfway between him and his destination. Momentarily, he saw alone rider of merge from the dust on a sleek blood bay steed. He wore the traveling garb of the lake clans. His horse was strong and fast, and the rider was skilled as any Brandt had ever seen. He watched with grudging admiration, his eyes narrowing as four other riders emerge from the dust chasing the loner. They were dressed in the colorful robes of the savage desert nomads.
        Suddenly, Brandt knew he wanted the blood bay rider to escape. It looked as if he would make it, too. Every stride put more distance between him and the nomads trailing him. But the magnificent horse stumbled unexpectedly on an unseen obstacle. The rider flew into the air, curled instinctively, and tumbled over and over several times before rolling to a stop in the dirt.
        "Oh, no!" Brandt groaned under his breath as the four renegades were closing in on the fallen rider fast. The loner rose slowly, stumbling toward the fallen horse. Brandt swung himself into a saddle and set his buckskin into motion almost before he realized what he was doing. It wasn't right.         Not even one of the lake clan should have to face those barbarians alone. If they didn't kill him outright, he would wish for death many times over, and that was no way for a warrior to die.
        As Brandt moved in, the loner ran to the fallen horse and bent quickly, reaching for something on the saddle. As the loner straightened, Brandt muttered an expletive under his breath. The hood of the rider's cape fell back to reveal an attractive head of long golden hair and the face of tall woman, not a man. She straightened with a shiny broadsword in her hand, and now held it poised and ready to use it. Brandt neared her just about the same time as her pursuers and drew out his own sword in readiness. As she glanced from him to the nomads and back to him again, the fierceness in her green eyes gave him no doubt that she would turn on him if he came closer first.
        That didn't bother him at the moment. It showed him she was a fighter, and the way she held her sword told him she knew how to use it. Together, they might even have a chance against these murderous renegades.
        The four spotted Brandt just before they reached the golden haired woman. Two in green continued toward her while one and a purple cape and one in a red cape broke away from the other two to deal with Brandt.
        His heart thudding against his rib cage, Brandt readied himself. Adrenalin surged into his bloodstream, and the sound of hoof beats thundered in his ears. Brandt new fear as he raised sword to accept the challenge, but there was no time to wonder whether he'd gotten himself into more than he could handle. His determination to survive quickly pushed back his fear.
        Two nomads rushed at him at once with a chilling war cry. With the skill of many combats behind him, Brandt dodged the slashing arc and parried another with his own sword. A slight pressure from his knees urged his mount to whirl and disengage from the two so he could initiate the next move. Swinging his blade fast and furiously, he attacked with calculated precision. Cut, slash, parry, Brandt drove his adversaries backward. When they stood fast and attempted to retaliate, he fanned the blade before him almost as a shield. The attacker in red waited a split second to long for an opening, and Brandt took that brief advantage. The red fell, and the purple launched a new attack.         His blade came down on Brandt's with shattering force, and sparks flashed from both blades.
Their swords clashed of again and again. Brandt felt himself tiring with each swing of his weapon. It was clear the nomads skill was closely matched to his own and he was barely recovered from his previous wound. Only his strong instinct for survival steeled his aching muscles to the strain of his battle until he felt the purple yielding at last. One faltered parry cost the nomad his life.
        As the purple clad man fell dead in the sand, Brandt turned around to see how the woman fared. She stood a few meters away, battling the last of them. The third, green clad nomad lay convulsing in the sand, a bleeding from the jugular, a throwing knife lodged there.
        The woman moved like a true warrior as she wielded her blade, but Brandt didn't want to take the chance that the last nomad might kill her after he'd risked his life and so much more to save her. He urged his horse forward to help her, only his approach had nearly the opposite effect. The distraction broke her concentration for a split second, long enough for the nomad to club the side of her head with a flat of his sword. Brandt moved in avenge her even as she staggered and crumpled to the ground.
        His sword clash knocked the nomad from his horse, but he stumbled to his feet and stood ready to parry Brandt sword again. He stood his ground well yet Brandt felt him weakening with each crash of their swords. The knowledge gave him new strength and the end came quickly for the fourth nomad.
        Breathing and harsh, shallow gasps Brandt watched the nearly decapitated corpse slumped to the ground with grim satisfaction. He felt as though all his strength had suddenly deserted him as he dismounted, the hilt of the sword still clutched in his hand. Every muscle in his body ached, and his legs felt wobbly as he moved cautiously toward the fallen warrior woman. If she still had the strength to fight, he knew she could be dangerous.
        He was right to be cautious. She scrambled shakily to her feet even as he approached. She was standing with her sword and raised it in challenge even sooner than he thought possible in her condition. Brandt tensed, ready to do battle again if he had to.
        "Defend yourself, mountain man! I won't let you take me alive!" She cried. Blood oozed from a cut near her temple, and she swayed on her feet as she took a step forward. Brandt knew she would kill him if he gave her the chance. After all, the mountain clans and the lake clans had been enemies for nearly 500 years. Those hatreds ran deep. Brandt stepped closer and stopped, watching, waiting. He held his blade ready to defend himself against any assault she could muster. He didn't really want to hurt her, but he didn't want her to hurt him, either.
        Fiercely determined, she staggered two steps forward. As she raised her weapon to attack, a shudder passed through her lean, muscular body. Her a eyelids fluttered involuntarily, and she crumpled to the ground without landing a blow.
        The mountain dweller quiet crept forward, still tensed and alert. She didn't move. Even so he was not wholly convinced it wasn't an act. He used the tip of his sword to lever the hilt of her blade from her hand. Brandt tossed it a few meters away and squatted beside her to check for signs of life. Her pulse was a little weak but steady, and her breathing regular. She wasn't faking unconsciousness. Brandt assumed the blow to her head caused a concussion. She was still bleeding from the cut on her temple a little, too.
        Before he attempted to do anything about that he checked her for other weapons. Under the tan, hooded cape she wore to protect her fair skin from the merciless sun, she was clad in a light muslin shirt and leather riding chaps fitting loosely on her legs from her ankles to her hips. Brent found a long knife strapped to her thigh and a lethal looking dagger sheathed in her soft, suede leather boot.         Turning her slightly, he found one of two throwing knives sheathed the small of her back. The second was embedded in the throat of the other green clad nomad.
        Brandt grinned to himself as he took these weapons from her and tossed them into a pile on top of her sword. Whoever she was, she had guts, or she was crazy, or a little bit of both. She was pretty enough, too, strong, yet feminine in her own way.
        So what did he do with her now? He'd sure as hell keep those weapons out of her reach. She wouldn't think twice about stabbing him in the back if he gave her a chance. Hell, maybe he was crazier than she was for trying to help her. He couldn't help wondering what she was doing this close to nomad territory alone. These desert renegades had honed torture down to a fine art. It was rumored to be their main source of entertainment. He shuddered to think with those four might have done to her if they had taken her alive.
        Now that he saw her up close, her faced was soft and vulnerable in repose. He was glad he hadn't left her to such a fate. She deserved better than to die at the hands of such animals. But she could still die if he didn't get her out of the hot sun.
        Two quick, sharp whistles sent Shad to round up the other four horses. A third sharp whistle brought the buckskin stallion to his side with the other horses is trailing behind him. Brandt stood to retrieve his sword, then rummaged in his saddle bag for some clean scraps of muslin. He took his water skin from the saddle and knelt in the sand beside his fallen adversary. Cradling her golden head against a muscular forearm, he gently sponged the blood from her temple with a moist and piece of cloth. As he did this, her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked them several times before she seemed to focus her stunning green eyes on his angular bearded face.
        "My horse. Where's my horse?" She managed huskily.
        "He is beyond help: I'm sorry," he told her.
        As she searched his face, her eyes came to rest on the upper part of the long, dark, ponytail that hung down to the middle of his back. Her eyes widened in alarm. "You! Oh no!"
She closed her eyes will the resigned sigh. She hadn't the strength to get up, let alone stand and fight him. Even a slight movement of her head brought pain and dizziness and churning in her stomach.         "Who are you, mountain man?" She asked, her eyes held tightly closed.
        "Brandt McKell, and you?"
        "I am a fool if I'd tell you," she asserted softly.
        The blood feud between their two tribes had been long in ruthless. Her people had killed and enslaved many of Brandt McKell's clans over the years. Zekan Rode himself killed Chieftain Garth McKell's youngest brother and bragged about it at every festival.
        "You might as well tell me," Brandt said gently. "I know you're from the late clans. Long, golden hair, flashing green eyes---you could be the daughter of Zekan Rode himself." Her eyes widened, and         Brandt knew he'd guessed right. He could hardly believe his good luck. Four horses and the daughter of the lake clans chieftain to take back to Blue Summit. At least he might get back into his father's good graces. Maybe even Lexis would look on him more kindly. It was certainly something to consider.
        "You know?" Her eyes flickered and this belief.
        "It was a lucky guess, Jaecyn Rode. Your father has only one daughter, and you fit her description." Brandt grinned triumphantly.
        Jaecyn groaned and try to break free from his support. The overwhelming pain the movement caused her made her wince, and she sighed helplessly. "What are you going to do with me now? Did you save me from those lizards so you could torment me yourself?"
        "No, you're wrong. I didn't know who you were. I'd just saw you needed help," Brandt mused. "Now lie still. You're just causing yourself unnecessary pain. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to bind your wound and get you out of this hot sun." His eyes were filled with sincere concern. Jaecyn nodded more in resignation than a agreement. She was in no condition to fight him.
        Brandt did exactly what he said he would. He covered the gash above her left temple with a clean piece of folded muslin and tied a strip of what was left around her head to hold the compress in place. He left her for short time to collect her weapons and the nomads horses. He loaded the weapons on one of the horse's and strung the horses together with a length of leather rein from Jaecyn's dead horse.
        When he returned to her side, Brandt saw she was in no condition to ride a lone so he lifted her astride his horse. Grimacing at the pain that caused in his shoulder, he leaped up into the saddle behind her and steadied her with an arm around her waist. he reached for the reins with the other hand and nudged his horse toward the battered shuttle less than a klick away.
        Later when it was dark and he had rested some, he would come back and bury the nomads and hide the evidence of what had happened there.
        The shuttle hatch way opened with a groan in response to the coded number sequence Brandt slowly pressed on the covered keypad beside it. Although his uncle had told them of it many times, the sight of it filled him with wonder. He knew all the stories about the old technology that built starships and brought his ancestors through space to Demus from Earth home. It seemed more like magic than science in comparison to the simple life his people led.
        Only this was real, and as he stood before the ancient shuttle, he felt for the first time the lure of that far call that moved his ancestors to seek their fortunes among the stars.





Text Copyright © 2015 Christine A. Myers

All Rights Reserved

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced,distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The Aledan: A Psionic Love Story Excerpt

Parts of this post are rated R for sexual and or violent content.



THE ALEDAN:A Psionic Love Story

by Chris Myers

An Abridged Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE




        Hankura shrugged in frustration and rolled over on his bunk, unable to quiet his mind so he could sleep. He was alone in his darkened cabin aboard the Argus Lu, a passenger freighter. It had just put into Earth Orbit to take on two more passengers and leave some freight. Then it would take Hankura to Velran, a place he did not want to go.

        It wasn't fair! Why did he have to go to Velran alone? He didn't want to be on this ship with these stupid people who tried cheer him up and make his voyage fun and interesting. It wasn't. He didn't want to go anywhere but home. He wanted his mother. He wanted his father to love him again instead of being angry all the time.

        Tears filled his eyes and his throat ached with longing. Someday, he would go back and show them they were wrong. They would be sorry. Someday.

Finally, sleep claimed him, and his mind drifted into a dream that wasn't his own. This dream was more real than any he had ever dreamed. In the dream, he shivered with fear and cold. He was huddled under an abandoned stairway in a dark alley. A hard rain fell steadily, forming shallow pools in the scarred pavement around him.

        At some point he realized it was not a dream. He felt her presence, the psychic force of her consciousness pulling him into her mind. Her thoughts, her fear, her pain filled his mind. The little girl was down on Earth. She crouched alone in the dark, more afraid than she had ever been in the short span of her five years.

        Jerry told her to wait no matter what. He would come for her when he finished what he had to do. He gave her the knife and fled. He would be gone however long it took for him to find and kill the man who had killed their mother.

        Hours passed. She sat shivering in the corner against the cold brick wall---alone except for the rats. When they ventured too close she menaced with the sharp knife then pelted them with the pieces of broken pavement she had gathered before dark. Although she hit several with the concrete rocks, one broke through and came to close. She screamed and plunged the knife into it, killing it. After that, they stayed back for a while. Michelle shuddered, exhausted. Her body ached with the cold and her eyelids drooped as she longed for sleep. But the rats were out there waiting. Sleep would mean death--endless sleep just like Mommy.

        Some of the rats moved closer again, but the sound of their claws on the pavement opened her eyes wide with terror. She screamed, ending it in a sob as she slashed desperately with the knife.

Jerry, please come back! Don't leave me all alone like this. I want Mommy. Oh, God, I don't want to be alone.

        She was sure nobody would hear or care what happened to her. But in blind desperation, she tapped her latent psionic ability and sent a mind-cry with such force that someone did sense her plea.

Hankura sat bolt upright in his bunk and brushed the wetness from his cheeks. He realized he was crying, but this time his tears were for someone else--- Michelle...and he reached out.... He sensed the little girl felt even more alone and scared than he was.

        Michelle, don't cry. You're not alone. You don't have to be scared of those rats. You can make them go away with your mind. I can help you.

        Gradually, she stopped crying. She no longer felt alone or as scared. He was with her even though she couldn't see him. "Who are you? Why can't I see you?" She said to the voice in her head.

I'm Hankura from the Aledan Colony. I'm thinking to you. That's why you can't see me. I'm up in a space ship far above Earth.

        Thinking to her? Michelle shrugged. She felt it was true. She felt his presence even though she couldn't see him, so he must be real.

        "Are you going to come down here?"

        I wish I could. I have to go to school on Velran. My parents don't want me to go to the Psi Institute on Aledus so they're sending me to the University of Learning on Velran.

        Michelle looked skyward as his thoughts touched her mind. She could feel that he was scared and alone, too.

        "My parents are dead," she said aloud. "Jerry's gonna kill the man who did it. When he's done, he's gonna come back and get me. That's why I have to stay here--so he can find me. But this place is scary. Will you think to me until he comes back?"

        Okay. Where I'm going is scary, too. There are lots of strange aliens, and I have no friends there.

        "Do they have gangs and overlords?"

        No, it's a school. Mother is making me go there to learn the Patterns of Insight so I won't hurt Normals when I think to them.

        "But you're not hurting me."

        'Cause you're a psion, too. Anyway, you thought to me first.

        "I did?"

        Yeah. But, you'd better not let anyone know or they might send you away to Velran, too.

        "Could I bring Jerry?"

        Probably not. They wouldn't let me bring Trevin and Capra. I have to go alone.

        "Well, there are probably other kids like you at Velran. You won't be alone.”

        Maybe, but the teachers are aliens with ugly fangs and scary faces. My use-to-be friends said they eat people.

        "Dead people or live people?"

        I don't know. They probably lied anyway. After their parents found out I'm a psion, they weren't allowed to play with me.

        "Rats eat people here, sometimes dead ones and sometimes live ones. They wanted to eat me until you showed me how to make them go away. Can you show me how to do that with people?"

        It's against ALEDAN Law.

        "Overlord Law?"

        ALEDAN Law.

        "That doesn't count here. Show me."

        I can't. I promised Mother I would never do that again. Somebody might hurt you if they ever found out you could do that. Besides, you need to learn to use your powers better, and so do I.

        "Do they teach you that on Velran?"

        They teach everything there, they have a special school for human psions.

        "I wish I could go to school with you. I wouldn't be scared if you were there, and we would probably make friends with other kids like us."

        I wish you could come, but they won't let me come and get you. When I grow up, I'll come back and teach you the things I learn. I promise.

        Michelle sighed. She knew he meant it, but she didn't believe it would really happen. Daddy promised he would come back, and he never did. Mommy promised she would come for her, and she never did, either. She didn't believe Jerry would ever return. Why should she believe Hankura?



        The sun's rays peeked gradually over the towering ruins of the ancient city through the mist rising from the wet streets. Michelle stirred in her sleep and brushed at the big black fly  buzzing over her stringy red hair.

        "Mishy? Where are ya, kid? Mishy!" The impatient sound of her brother's voice registered in her mind and she opened her eyes and blinked.

        "Here, Jerry. I'm here," she called softly and strained to hear the sound of his footsteps. She sensed his nearness long before he found her. By then, she had turned her attention elsewhere.

        "I have to go, Hankura and pretty soon, I won't be able to hear your thoughts anymore. But it's okay. Jerry's here, now. I'm not scared anymore." She spoke with her eyes raised to the morning sky, wishing she could go wherever he was going, too.

        Someday, I'll take you there . . . or maybe Aledus. I promise.

        "But, how will you find me?"

        With psi--I'll find you. Believe me.

        "I do," she answered softly, and she did.

        Jerry frowned. He hunkered down under the stairway in front of her and stared into her eyes. After a moment Michelle focused on his face and smiled sheepishly.

        "Mishy--who were you talking to? Are you all right?"

        "I'm okay. I was just talking to Hankura. His parents sent him on a star freighter from Aledus to a school on Velran."

        "What?" Jerry frowned and raked a bony hand back through his unruly red hair. "How can he be on a starship when ya were just talkin' to 'im?"

        "Well--he wasn't here exactly--not like you're here. I heard what he said in my head." Michelle touched her temple. "Psi. He helped me make the rats go away, too."

        "Who told you that word—psi?"

        "He did."

        "And I suppose he killed that rat over there, too."

        "Of course not." Michelle chided. "I told you he wasn't really here. I killed that rat with your knife."

        Jerry looked at the dead rat and the bloody dagger on the ground beside her, then grinned and pulled his little sister into his arms. "You did good, kid." He hugged her. "I'm sorry I left you alone so long, but I had to."

        "I wasn't alone. Hankura was here—sorta."

        "Ah--sure, kid. If you say so." Jerry crawled further under the stairway with Michelle under one arm. It had been a long night, and he was tired. He should never have left the kid alone for so long. Cold and scared, alone all night, it was no wonder she was hearing things. She still felt cold to his touch, so he cuddled her wiry little body close--to warm her.

        "Jerry?"

        "What?"

        "Is Mommy really gone forever? Forever?" Her voice trembled on `forever'.

        Jerry's arms suddenly squeezed her too tightly and she groaned. He loosened his hold, but he was trembling. It was a long time before he answered.

        "Y-yes. She is gone forever." He rasped, tears filling his eyes. Michelle sniffled softly; she had known the answer before he'd said the words.

        Years later...

        There were no heroes in the ruins--only survivors. She and Jerry survived from day to day.

Michelle didn't stop to question their lifestyle, because she knew no other way of life except in her dreams. She felt Hankura's presence in those dreams even after ten years. Some of them left her aching physically, for something she didn't quite understand. But she never talked to Jerry about Hankura anymore. She knew it would make him angry.

        As time passed, it became harder for her to believe in someone she had never seen and the beautiful places that existed only in her dreams. Jerry was the only person who loved her and cared what happened to her, and she wondered if maybe Jerry were right when he said Hankura wasn't real. Then there was Berke for a while . . . . He'd rescued her from a gang fight, and she felt she owed him something. All she had to give was herself.

        She still thought about Hankura once in awhile, but she didn't tell Jerry, and the remaining eight years she and Jerry had together left her with rich and lasting memories.

As the years passed, life became no simpler, nor did the dangers of street life ever permit Michelle and Jerry to let down their guard.

        They were tired as they trudged back to the abandoned cellar they called home. Scrounging for food that day had been discouraging.

        Usually they found good pickings after the agri-market outside the Starport complex closed for the day. Someone else had gotten there first. None of their other sources had yielded more than a few morsels apiece. They were going home hungry as well as tired.

        Half a block from safety, four strange men accosted them. It didn't matter that Jerry and Michelle had nothing to steal. These thugs were after them.

        Michelle dropped the few morsels she was saving for later and reached for the throwing knife strapped to her calf. She flung the knife deep into the neck of one man, but another charged her before she could pull the dagger from her belt sheath.

        The dagger was her only chance to even the odds against this bigger man. He grabbed her arm and swung her toward him. By the time her fingers closed around the hilt of the weapon, his blade plunged between her ribs into her right lung. Had she not been struggling so violently, it might have been driven through her heart instead.

        He pulled the dagger out and let Michelle fall. She gasped and coughed on the blood that filled her lung as she sank to the ground. The dagger was in her hand, but she no longer had strength to use it. The scene before her faded as her consciousness receded down a long dark tunnel. So this was death.

        No! You don't have to die, Michelle. You have the ability to heal that wound. Don't die. Let your mind open to that power within you. Live, Michelle. Live.

        It was a dream, but not a dream. Hankura was there with her floating in a mist. She felt cold, so cold, until he reached out to touch her forehead. Then his warmth seemed to spread through her. Jerry was wrong. Hankura was real--tall and strong and handsome. She couldn't die, not now. He had finally come back for her . . .

        But when she opened her eyes again, he wasn't there. She was lying in the dirt where she had fallen. It hurt to breathe, but she was no longer drowning in her own blood. As she felt the hilt of the dagger in her hand, she remembered what had happened and strained to see where her brother was.

Michelle gasped as she saw that the same thug who had stabbed her was locked in combat with Jerry. A livid stain spread over Jerry's belly showed that he had already been stabbed at least once.

        Michelle pressed her left hand over her partly healed wound and pushed herself to her feet, still clutching the dagger in her other hand. The enemy had her brother down, his knife raised to strike. Michelle stumbled, then lunged, screaming as she drove her dagger deep into the man's back. It was a killing wound, but not quick enough to save Jerry.

        "Oh, Mother of Life!" she cried as she pushed the man's body away. Michelle fell to her knees beside Jerry, horrified at the knife she saw sticking in his chest. Not thinking clearly, she grabbed it and pulled it out as though she could erase the damage it had done. Blood spurted from the wound as she cradled him in her arms, sobbing.

        Hankura, help me! You have to help me heal Jerry, too. I don't know how. I can't do it without you.

        But he wasn't there. When she tried to make Jerry's bleeding stop as she had her own, she found she didn't have the strength. She was still too weak from her own wound.

        "It's okay, Mishy. You did good, kid. In a place like this . . . it was bound to happen sometime." He choked and gasped for breath as blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth. Michelle continued sobbing softly.

        "Hey, hey--Mishy. You done all you could. Now, you gotta take care of yourself . . . so get the hell outa here before any more of 'em come. . . . Go to the mountains--get yourself some supplies and go to the mountains. Ain't no kinda life for you here. An' remember . . . remember how I taught you to fight. Remember wha-- Remember . . . ." He sighed and closed his eyes.

        Michelle wanted to stay with him longer, but she heard others coming. It took all her strength to stand and stumble away. There was nothing more she could do for him.

        By then, it was growing dark. Michelle found the secret opening leading to the cellar where she and Jerry had been living. Without him to share it, it was a cold, filthy place . . . and Michelle had never felt more alone in her life.

        If Hankura was ever going to come, he should have come today when she needed him. Why did he help her and not Jerry? Damn him! Why?

        How could Jerry's death have been real? How could Hankura come to her and leave her when she so desperately needed him? She didn't want to believe it. Tears filled her eyes again, but she hurt too much to even cry.

 

CHAPTER TWO




        "Michelle!" Hankura had been thrashing around for quite sometime before he bolted upright in his bed. His heart was pounding and his body was soaked with sweat. He groaned softly and tried to catch his breath.

        His roommate stirred in the bed across the room and roused as he sensed Hankura's agitation.         "You dreamed about her again, didn't you?"

        Hankura nodded his head. "It was more than a dream, Casir. She needed me. I felt her needing me, and I wasn't there. She nearly died. We were in limbo, and I touched her soul. Then she found the will to live," he murmured. "I didn't want to let her go."

        "How long has it since you first mind-linked with her?"

        "Almost twenty years standard." Hankura sighed.

        "She must be a strong one."

        Hankura shook his head. "She's not any stronger than you or I."

        "Not psi-quotient, diamond head--psi-bond, Hankura. If she were that strong, I would feel her in my dreams, too. But, you're the only one who feels her."

        "You mean like psi-mates? That's crazy?"

        "Then, you give me a better explanation why you can't get a female you've never met face to face out of your head in twenty years of trying?"

        "I can't. It's just that--well, I thought psi-mating was just a myth dreamed up by that madman Malkan."

        "Maybe Malkan was crazy, but the prophet Narcaza wasn't. He was your own ancestor, and he believed it," Casir pointed out. "Mesgar believes it, too."

        "Space! I don't know what to think anymore, Casir. All I know is I could feel her reaching out to me as she was dying. I didn't want her to die. She wanted me to help her heal her brother, too. But she was too weak. If I'd pushed her too hard, she would have died, too, trying to save him. I had to break contact because I couldn't stand her pain. Her brother is dead now, and she's all alone. I promised to get her out of there a long time ago. I'm afraid she might not make it until I get there. I've got another two years in the program, and I don't know how long she can stay alive without Jerry to help her. Half the time she thinks I lied to her, and half the time she doesn't think I'm real. I feel her pain, Casir, I feel her despair like she's part of me."

        "I know. I feel your dilemma," Casir empathized. "What are you going to do?"

        "Take a bio-chip implant for the last two years," he said. The computerized organic implant would feed information directly into his brain over a period of three months. By taking the last two years of medical school through a bio-chip, he could leave Velran with his physician's certification in three months.

        "But, can you handle the headaches, Hankura?" Migraines were a side effect of such implants, which is why most students didn't use them.

        "I know it can be pretty painful, but I can't wait any longer. I have to find her before those barbarians kill her. Maybe once I know she's safe, I can get on with my life."

        "Only if you include her in your plans."

        "If that's what it takes. I'll worry about that when the time comes. I just can't live with this constant fear for her life anymore."

        "Care to make a small wager? Say 50,000 chips that you two are psi-mated?" Casir grinned.

        "I don't think so. I don't like the odds."

        "Ah, so you are beginning to believe it."

        Hankura shrugged. "Maybe I am."

#

        After three months preparation, Hankura was ready to leave on his journey. Casir went with him to the hangar at the Velran Starport to see him off in the mran space craft that was waiting to be launched.

        "It sure is a beauty," Casir said, admiring the sleek triangular shaped craft.

        "At a million chips, it ought to be. It's nearly new."

The two men stood looking at the silver and blue craft in silence. Hankura was dressed in a shiny silver flight suit, and Casir wore a loose fitting white suit that was currently fashionable among human males on Velran.

        Casir spoke finally after a long silence. "You remember the first few days after you got here when I wouldn't even talk to you?"

        "Yes." Hankura grinned wryly. "I was ready to choke you just so you would say something. I didn't know what you were trying to do because you were so good at blocking my probes."

        "Well, when you came walking into our quarters that day, I had a feeling we could be good friends. I didn't want that. I knew that one day you and I would be standing here like this, and I'd be losing my best friend.

        "You were lucky, Hankura. Your parents sent you here because they thought they were doing you a favor---even if you didn't think so at the time. My family sent me here with 5 million chips and said don't come back. That was pretty hard to take . . . ."

        "I know," murmured Hankura. "It took me awhile to figure that out." He paused. "You know you could come, too."

        Casir shook his head. A stark contrast to the Aledan, Casir was as fair as Hankura was dark with platinum hair and amber eyes. The Aledan held his gaze, studying those familiar features.

        "I've done a lot of crazy things in my life, but going to Earth with you after some dream girl is not going to be one of them . . . . Besides, with you gone, someone will have to console Jana and Delara. It might as well be me." Casir grinned suddenly.

        Hankura grinned, too. "They always liked you better anyway--"

        "--Except for Carianne. She isn't taking your leaving well at all."

        "I tried to explain. It just wasn't working, and our co-habitation contract was up anyway." Hankura shrugged. "Every time it seemed like we could really be close, Michelle would haunt me again. Mesgar thinks it is psi-mating. If it is, he said I had best learn to accept the mind-link because I can't change it."

        "My sympathies, friend. At least I won't have to share the ladies with you anymore."

"Don't be too sure. Maybe this obsession is just a psychological quirk--an aberration that will wear off. . . ."

        "Who are you kidding?"

        "Myself." Hankura sighed. "It's just that going to Earth these days is a good way to get myself killed. I have a bad feeling about this whole thing. Yet, I know I'll never have any peace until I find her."

        Casir swallowed hard. "What happens if you do find her? You're not planning to stay on Earth, are you?"

        "Certainly not! I promised my parents two years ago I'd return to Aledus after I finish here."

        "Oh yeah. I remember you arguing back and forth about that for months over the telcom. I thought you finally decided not to go."

        "Mother changed my mind. It meant so much to her, I didn't have the heart to refuse her again.         But that doesn't mean I'll stay forever. What about you? What are your plans?"

        "I'll let you know when I decide . . .if I can find you."

        "I'll leave word with my family . . . if I make it back to Aledus."

        "You will. I have faith in you." Casir held out his hand, not fooling his friend at all. Casir was worried. Going to Earth was highly dangerous ever since the Procyon Wars. This might really be the last time they ever saw each other.

        They both knew it.

        Hankura shook Casir's hand and turned to board the ship. He stopped abruptly and turned back to embrace his friend, briefly. No more words were necessary. After one last look into Hankura's dark green eyes, Casir nodded and Hankura turned without looking back to board his ship. Casir watched the hatch close behind him then turned and left the hangar.

        Although he couldn't watch Hankura go, he was glad he had finally accepted Hankura's friendship. The Aledan was the best friend he would ever have.

#

        In the weeks after Jerry died, Michelle kept on fighting to survive, mainly because she knew it was what her brother wanted and because of Hankura. Despite her doubts, she couldn't let go of her dream. Without him there was no reason to keep living, and no one to care if she didn't live.

        Her wound healed quickly, it seemed, because she willed it. When she was well enough, she began stealing food and supplies where she could. Then she stole, Orion, a young blood bay stallion to carry her and the supplies into the mountains east of Farringay.

        Orion didn't like the serving as a pack animal at first. He dumped Michelle and the supplies twice before Michelle made him understand what she wanted him to do. The two became fast friends and allies.

        Michelle was glad to get away from the city ruins. Ever since Jerry died, she had nightmares . . . and she heard voices in her head---so many, she couldn't separate them. Somehow she knew she could escape those voices in the solitude of the mountains. The chatter seemed to fade as she got further from Farringay.

        The journey took two days, and she looked for another day before she found the abandoned farmstead where she decided to settle. The dwelling, a rundown log cabin was set in a badly overgrown yard. To the left of the cabin near the woods was a small shed inside a roughly fenced-in pasture. The property looked as though it had been neglected for years. The whole spread was little more than a large clearing in the mountain forest. But compared to the ruins of Farringay, it was beautiful. The air was fresh, and there were green growing things all around her. She felt safe there. She decided to claim it for her own. With any luck, it would be a long time before someone came along and tried to take it from her.

        In the next few days, while she mended the pasture fence with branches from the forest, Michelle wished that she and Jerry had left Farringay long ago. They could have had a good life here. She didn't remember when her family had been driven down from the mountains to keep from starving after an especially hard winter. Jerry had told her a little about it; but he hadn't talked about that part of their past much.

        He had told her about how farmers planted seeds to grow the fruits and vegetables that they salvaged from the agri-market each week. He didn't know all about farming, just that the seeds were planted in rows and covered over with dirt. So Michelle stole several kinds of seeds from different pack animals at the agri-market. She didn't know what would grow from the seeds, but she would plant them and find out.

        In the meantime, she could get along by foraging for food in the fields and forest. The supplies she brought wouldn't last very long. Despite growing up on the streets of Farringay, she knew enough about country living to identify some types of edible plants---dandelion, plantain, oats, wild carrot.         She and Jerry used to forage the overgrown lots in their territory for such plants and roots when they could find nothing else to eat.

        Michelle cleared a patch of ground near the cabin to plant her seeds. She did the work by hand. After she pulled out the tall grass and brush by the roots, she used a broken hoe that she found near the cabin to break ground for planting her seeds. The hard work gave her no time to grieve or think about the past. But when the hardest work was done, she could no longer deny the strange sense of expectancy that was stealing through her.

        Michelle raised her eyes to the clear, blue sky and Hankura's promise whispered itself into her mind. For one brief moment, she remembered the dirty and frightened little girl crouching in the alley alone that rainy night. Sometimes, that little girl was too much a part of her.




CHAPTER THREE




        His lips were firm against hers, and Michelle moaned as he kissed her long and slow and deeply. Her body felt electrified under his touch and she ached for him to fill her. Hankura pressed his thigh tight against her loins as he took time to savor her body with his mouth. She moaned again, pleading silently for him to enter her.

        She parted her thighs instinctively as he moved over her to oblige. Their eyes held for a moment, and she smiled up at him. Then they both trembled with anticipation as he finally lowered himself to take her and make them one. They moved together in a passionately, intimate rhythm, drawn steadily toward the ecstasy of mutual satisfaction.

        But just as they were about to climax, Hankura was gone.

        "No!" Michelle cried as she woke, still aching to feel him inside her, the warmth of his hard body against hers, and the comfort of his thoughts entwining with hers. But Hankura wasn't there, he never was. She was alone in the dark cabin, wanting a man she had never seen except in her dreams.

#

        Cursing the sticky, wetness spreading over his groin, Hankura awoke in the solitude of his small space craft. It was only a dream, but the result was real enough. Michelle had given him some of the best erotic dreams of his life without even knowing it. It was a bittersweet meeting of their minds that always left him depressed afterward. He always woke up alone, ready to sell his soul just to hold her . . . to make love to her as he dreamed of doing. In those moments, he felt it was certainly worth the risk of going to Earth.

        After a few calming breaths, Hankura got up from his bunk and went into the sanitary closet to shower and dress. He still had another hour for sleep, but he wasn't tired anymore. When he was dressed he slumped into his pilot's seat to monitor the auto-guidance system.

        Hankura knew that going to Earth would be risky, long before Jed Rankin warned him of the dangers. But he had no choice now. Aside from Michelle's beckoning, a power overload in the auto-guidance system had sent him off course and ate away most of the five small crystals that powered the Arius Mran.

        If he didn't put down on Earth and get replacements, his ship would eventually lose power completely and he would die in space. On the other hand, if he put down on Earth, he could get himself killed by merely being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

        Hankura let out a rueful sigh, shifting his lean, long body in the pilot seat. He felt vaguely sad as he considered the path that led the motherworld of humanity to this state of ruin. The Earth had known a proud and glorious history until they had tried to take Procyon III from alien colonists. Retaliation for the massacre of the alien colonists nearly destroyed Earth. A series of conflicts followed, ending Earth's rein as a major power in the Federation.

        The planet had succumbed to barbarism after the Procyon wars. Earth's natural resources were severely depleted, and the population was decimated.

        Lengthy negotiations brought the conflict to an end after three hundred years. The Federation had been forced to admit wrong-doing to the Mesaarkans and relinquish all future claim to Procyon III. Since that time, the Mesaarkans had built a thriving colony, and their world had become a prominent influence in the United Galactic Federation.

#

        The landing was routine until he crashed into the forest.

Trees cracked under the weight of his ship, and branches scraped the hull heavily as the craft set down, echoing the sounds of destruction through the quiet of the night.

        There was only superficial damage according to the computer readouts. But, considering his recent experience with the guidance system, Hankura decided to check the hull himself in the morning. He didn't trust a computer that would send his ship nearly a full sector off course.

        To conserve what little energy was left in the power crystals, he shut down the outside lights and most of the interior systems. Although he wasn't due to sleep for a few hours, there was little else he could do in the dark forest. So he lay down on his bunk and tried to relax until daybreak.

He lay for a long time staring up at the ceiling interior of the ship's upper hull and let his mind wander.

        He sensed Michelle reaching out to him, and he felt as though her soul were trying to meld with his own. Without ever having seen her, he felt physically aroused. His groin ached with the overwhelming need to join her body to his. He had felt the need many times before in the erotic dreams they had shared, but never with this intensity. He understood that this mating instinct was being triggered by the psi-bonding. At the moment, it threatened to overwhelm his other reasons for coming to find Michelle. He had never wanted anyone so much.

        Hankura sensed that he had been a cherished imaginary friend, sometimes more real to her than others. He kept her company when she was alone and afraid, and he shared her fears in his dreams.

#

        Michelle felt his presence long before she caught sight of him. It was a strange feeling--a kind of magnetism that made it impossible for her to turn back. It frightened her a little.

        Then images of places she had seen in their shared dreams started to unfold in her mind as the strange-familiar presence grew stronger. She saw the endless blackness of space and felt his loneliness on the journey to Earth. She didn't know how to shut out his memories.

        Michelle stopped at the edge of a small clearing. The sudden urge to turn and run almost overwhelmed her. He--Hankura was coming nearer. She wanted him to come, but now that he was actually here she was afraid.

        They saw each other almost at the same time and stood staring in awe for several moments before either moved toward the other. Hankura felt her fear and awe entwine with his own, mixed with a compulsion to reach out and touch her . . .mind and body.

        He was all she had expected physically--tall and well muscled with umber hair and emerald green eyes that seemed to look right through her.

        Michelle felt beautiful in his eyes in spite of the ragged overalls that clad her slim figure. She felt his sexual attraction as well, and it awakened feelings that she had suppressed for a very long time. A vision of them entwined in a sexual embrace accompanied that yearning.

        Her face flushed, and Michelle felt shaken as she realized her vision of them together touched his mind, too. His eyes were warm and he grinned, moving toward her with his hand extended. It was clear he meant to fulfill her sexual longings.

        "Nooo!" She backed away in unreasoning panic. She wanted him but she was afraid to give herself into his possession despite the bond of their minds. She was afraid of the way he made her feel. He moved closer, and she turned and ran.

        As Michelle ran, Hankura felt her fear and when he saw the memories flash through her mind he understood. Dropping his pack in the middle of the path, he ran after her. He overtook her more quickly than he expected when she tripped and fell over a tree root.

        He knelt beside her and reached to comfort her, but she screamed and struck at him. Her wiry strength surprised him as he caught one driving fist and then the other. But before he realized her intention, Michelle broke free and knocked him on his back, scrambling to hold him down. In the stunned moment Hankura hesitated, she found her knife. Straddling his middle, she held the point against his Adam's apple.

        Hankura met her steady gaze with a startled look. His first impulse was to bat away the knife and overpower her, but he knew that would be a mistake. Just then, she needed to feel in control of the situation, and he knew why.

        Michelle, I didn't come all this way to hurt you. I'm not like those monsters who raped you, simply because I'm a man. You know me and I know you. I'm Hankura. Remember our dreams? Remember!

        She felt the truth in his thoughts even though her old fears made her try to deny him. After all these years, he had really come back for her. She sensed that he was warm and gentle and strong; just as she always knew he would be. Now she knew beyond all doubt that he had never been a dream.

        Michelle started to tremble and took the knife point away from his throat. Then she moved off him and sat back on her knees, clenching the hilt of the dagger in her fist. She saw a drop of blood where her slight pressure on the knife had caused the point to nick his flesh and regretted that she had hurt him even a little. So many emotions welled up inside her, she started to cry. She had waited so long for him, been through so much.

        Hankura sat up slowly on the ground beside her and held out his hand, aching to comfort her. As she saw his outstretched hand through her tears, she looked into his face and let herself feel his warmth and compassion. Slowly, she laid down the knife. She put her hand in his and let him draw her gently into his arms and hold her close. For a time she wept softly against his shoulder and shared her memories with him. His own eyes filled as he felt the pain and joy and fear of her past, and he held her more tightly, softly stroking her tangled hair. Then he shared his memories with her.

When she was calmer, he reached into her mind:

        Now you understand. We've been part of each other since we first touched minds as children. Our minds are in harmony because we're psi-mates. That's why we've been linked all these years.

        "How can that be true? I'm not a psion." She shook her head.

        But you are. That's how you knew I would come back to find you. We are two halves of a whole yet separate unto ourselves. You only need to touch my thoughts to know my what I'm thinking.





Text Copyright © 2015 Christine A. Myers

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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