A New Time

by Donna Steele

  Rissul barely seemed abashed at the rebuke. Such insolence would not be tolerated for long. Again, Braxal regretted the fostering of his sons. No other option had been explored at the time. Was Thoruus the same in demeanor?

  It had been too many spans since he observed them in person. Had he thought they would be like Gsark and the younger warriors with their attitudes? Warriors who had trained Braxal trained them.

  Old attitudes.

  The thought startled him. The alliance with Gsark had changed him in many ways.

  Abruptly he turned and moved toward his private quarters, leaving Rossul behind. So much to contemplate.

  Entering his area, he stopped. The female. He had forgotten her in the leaving of the planet. Where was she?

  A tentative head appeared from the bathing alcove. Upon ascertaining the intruder was indeed him, the female fell into the cringe.

  “Rise.”

  She did, slowly.

  “Did you eat?”

  “Yes, Warrior.”

  “Good.” She already looked better, healthier. “Do you have a name?”

  “Vion, Warrior Braxal.”

  “What clan?”

  “The Velotor clan, Warrior.”

  “Velotor? I heard he was ill.” Wasting away, with no warrior sons to succeed him, his clan would be absorbed shortly.

  “He died, Warrior.”

  “Why did you leave his compound?”

  “Hunger and fear. We had not been fed in many spans. No one knew who would absorb us. I fled.”

  Braxal listened. He had not heard of the death. Who withheld this information? A clan leader’s death should be proclaimed, even one who had sunk as low as Velotor. Was another warrior planning to absorb them without alerting the council? He would need to report this. Currently the meeting with Gsark took precedence.

  “You spawned with Velotor?”

  “No, Warrior. I was in line, but he died before we met. There were many who never . . .” She fell silent.

  Braxal nodded. Velotor had been very old, his spawning days far in the past.

  “Warrior.” Vion cringed again. “When may I leave?”

  “Not until we return to Malvek.”

  “Return? We have left the planet?” Terror showed clearly in her eyes.

  “Do not fear. This is the finest ship on Malvek. I will eat now. I have work to perform.”

  “M-May I serve you?”

  Braxal inclined his head and moved toward his warm bench in front of his console. Before he had his work displayed, she returned with a generous amount of fresh meat.

  He ate while he worked, as Vion retreated to the far end of the space and made herself small.

  He did not notice her again until she replenished his food.

  “Enough. I am sated.”

  “Warrior.” She bowed and retreated again.

  Braxal had never considered what a female did with her time. She would clean up after his meal, when he finished with his work. Did they sit and wait when there was no one to serve? He had not been in the presence of females from the time he was fostered. It was interesting such a thought never came to him before.

  He had other pressing duties; more important than contemplating her activities. Braxal shoved the thought aside.

  ~ ~ ~

  Thoruus rose when Braxal entered the conference area. “Why are these lowly mind talkers present?” he demanded.

  That was not an appropriate greeting to a warrior or a sire and Braxal’s neck ridges flared slightly. Both of his sons were insolent. Their actions would be addressed.

  Braxal regarded Gsark before stating, “Axal and Sark have been part of this enterprise from the beginning.” He noted their reaction to his speaking their names aloud. He nodded toward them.

  “You have named them?” Thoruus’ voice showed incredulity.

  “They earned names through their work and the withstanding of an attack unprecedented in Malvek history. Their bodies might show no scars, but they have done battle. They are necessary and important to the work. They have suffered injury in this endeavor. They also have insights into the Guardians you lack. Sit.” Braxal could only deal so far with the insolence his warrior son showed.

  “Gsark, would you like to outline the mission?” Braxal settled himself to listen.

  Again, Thoruus looked shocked, as if pondering why the sire he knew would step aside for a younger, less experienced warrior. Thoruus had not learned there was wisdom in ways other than battle. It was time he knew this truth.

  “Thank you, Braxal.” Gsark rose and the monitor behind him came to life. “We are on course for the planet known to its inhabitants as Earth.”

  Bringing the five sons up to date needed little time, then the debate started.

  “You want to negotiate with these so-called Guardians?” Thoruus rose again in his agitation. “Malveks do not negotiate, we conquer. Have you grown old, Braxal? From what you have shown, these humans would be unable to put up a defense, much less defeat us.”

  Before Braxal could respond, Rissul asked, “No more ships will follow us?”

  “We need no more ships for a feeble planet like this,” Thoruus declared.

  “This planet is useless to us with its current climate. Following the changes in time—” Braxal began.

  “Time.” Thoruus emitted an expletive that caused Denrk and Loris to blink. “No one can manipulate time. You have visions.”

  The insolence would halt now. “What level have you attained?” Braxal rose to his full height, facing his son, claws fully displayed. His voice rang with the command of his rank.

  “I have finished the fifth,” Thoruus growled.

  “Rissul?”

  “I am working on the fourth.”

  “Sandarc?” Braxal continued, turning toward the younger warrior.

  “The seventh.”

  Braxal gave him a small bow of congratulations.

  “Denrk?”

  “I have begun the sixth.”

  “Loris?”

  “I have begun the fifth.”

  Braxal nodded to the mind talkers. “Bring up the chart.”

  The star chart Braxal had first seen, alerting him to the time changes, appeared on the monitor.

  “Do you see the wave?”

  Thoruus barely glanced over. “No, it is a fantasy.”

  Sandarc leaned over and his claw touched the screen. “Here.”

  Braxal nodded. This warrior son of Gsark surpassed his scions.

  “In order to expand our spawning grounds, other planets are necessary,” Gsark began. “We cannot fight what we cannot perceive. Without the weapon of time, there is no way to defeat the Guardians. My mate, Ledda, has brought forth an idea—”

  “Mate?” Thoruus again interrupted. Braxal would see him punished for his manners before the span was out. “You have discussed this endeavor with a female?”

  “I have. Your sire has met with her as well. She has insights we lack.” Gsark’s voice was mild but Braxal noted his neck ridges expanded slightly as well.

  Thoruus looked as if he might rupture something. “I cannot believe my clan has sunk this low.”

  “Silence!” Braxal roared. “You shame me in front of a warrior who has sired five warriors. A true Malvek with battle scars to proclaim. Show me your scars, Thoruus.”

  The younger warrior’s eyes flashed red, though after a minute he subsided.

  “Apologize.”

  Thoruus’s neck ridges flared but eventually he dipped his head. “My apologies, Warrior Gsark.”

  “These are new ideas,” Gsark responded. “I ask only that you hear of them. Ledda and I may be in error. However, if Malvek is to remain strong, we must exp
and. Finding planets that do not interest the Guardians could lead to such an expansion. Only they can tell us which planets those are, if they will deign to communicate with us.”

  Chapter 28

  Axal positioned himself closer to Sark. It was good to see him in the flesh again. The same contentment emanated from his friend.

  Warrior Braxal had said their names aloud and spoken of their importance to the mission. He mentioned their injuries. That was an honor higher than any Axal had ever contemplated. He felt his neck ridge vibrate and saw Sark’s flare as well.

  Warrior Braxal’s sons were furious and Axal dipped into their minds at the highest level. They both understood they could not challenge their sire. Neither had a chance of overcoming the experienced warrior. Such knowledge only made them more dangerous. It was good the two brothers traveled separately.

  Sark touched him discreetly with his non-dominant limb. Axal relaxed slightly at the contact. Being with Sark was more than pleasant. He wished they traveled on the same ship. They were no longer far from one another’s mind, but the physical proximity gave Axal a new feeling that was exotic and welcome.

  I would like to explore this new phenomenon.

  ~ ~ ~

  Braxal watched as Rissul stalked from the feeding area after the meeting with Gsark ended. His tirade on listening to a female following the conclave had been ill mannered, in spite of not directly insulting Gsark as Thoruus had. Sandarc’s restraint was admirable. He would make a fine clan leader in his time.

  Braxal was glad to have Thoruus off his ship though leaving him with Gsark added a burden he would have to repay.

  Braxal turned to face Sandarc, who had remained following Rissul’s abrupt departure. “May I ask you questions?”

  “Of course, Warrior Braxal.”

  “How long has Gsark known Ledda?”

  Surprised, Sandarc met Braxal’s eyes. “They have always been together. The clan of my mother was partially absorbed by my grandsire’s clan when Gsark was a youngling. They were of an age in which they mingled in the nursery until Gsark grew old enough to leave for training.”

  “She is not of his birth clan?”

  “No, her original clan has vanished from memory with no warriors to carry it on. Like my brothers and I, Gsark was not sent for fostering. He was still able to see my mother around the compound. When time came for his first spawning, he chose her. I am the result of that spawning.”

  Braxal had to work to hide his shock. A warrior from a first spawning? He had never heard of such an occurrence.

  “You honor me with your story. Having met Ledda, I am not surprised Gsark has five fine warrior sons.”

  Sandarc bowed his gratitude.

  “It has been a long turn. I will return to my quarters to prepare for tomorrow.”

  “Warrior Braxal.” Sandarc rose and followed him from the area.

  ~ ~ ~

  Braxal trudged to his quarters, weary in body and spirit. His sons had disappointed him greatly. Would they have been better trained had he kept them close as Gsark did? No, he did not believe it would have been so. That time could not be reversed and the older warriors who trained his sons were of Tharal’s ilk—old in body and mind. He had spent much of the time away in battle himself.

  Admitting he had been no better prior to this alliance with Gsark was difficult, but he now endeavored to encompass new ideas and grow. He had completed the seventh level after spending time with Gsark.

  Is it too late for my sons?

  He unsealed the door and spotted Vion, startling her, and she fell into the crouch quickly. He spotted the scrolls in front of her.

  His neck frills rippled until he noted which scrolls were open before her. Nothing from his current mission had been touched. The scrolls she observed were older favorites of his.

  “You read?”

  “Yes, Warrior.”

  Taken aback, he hesitated. Did Ledda read? It had never occurred to him to ask such a question.

  “Where did you learn this skill?”

  “At my clan compound. An older female taught us, in secret. Not many were interested but I was one who followed her. She taught those of us who would listen many things.”

  An educated female. This was yet another shock to his system.

  And Vion looked healthier today than yesterday. Regular feeding became her.

  “Tell me what you have read.”

  She hesitantly seated herself on the floor below his shelf. “I am not widely read, Warrior Braxal. Scrolls are difficult to hide and transport. Mostly I read of Velotor’s endeavors and battles. He spawned only one warrior son and that son was killed many turns ago.”

  “Was the warrior son fostered out for training?” He would have been older than Braxal himself.

  Vion nodded. “I never saw him. He did not live in the compound when I was old enough to remember.”

  Only one warrior son, and he long gone.

  I am not surprised Velotor shriveled away.

  Chapter 29

  Washington, D.C.

  Dusty stepped back from the table and stretched his neck. He’d been working there rather than the desk for most of the morning in order to spread out.

  He peered at the cold coffee in the mug beside him. Even that couldn’t bring him down today.

  Last night he and Dee had been together, truly together for the first time since Erica’s birth. Oh, they’d played a lot, reconnecting, but last night they’d merged their bodies and became one again.

  Thank goodness Erica was a sound sleeper. They needed to get serious about buying a house again, a plan derailed by a lot of things no longer restricting them.

  He’d pulled up houses for sale on his break. He knew which neighborhoods she liked, and the commute time to be taken into consideration. He could surprise her with a couple of possibilities when he got home. Maybe they could explore them over the weekend.

  For now, he had to get this work out of the way. He leaned back over the table.

  It took a few moments for the disturbance outside of his office to register through the closed door. He heard what sounded like people running, someone crying. What the hell was going on? Dusty headed for the door and was met with near chaos.

  Leonard appeared in the crowd, hurrying toward his office. “Go home.”

  “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  Leonard stopped short. “Have you not been online?”

  “No, I had everything spread out on the table. What’s happened?”

  “A ship, a UFO, has been picked up by satellites. Everyone’s freaking out.”

  “Did you call NASA?”

  “Can’t get through. They’ve put up a generic message.”

  Dusty gawked at him for an instant before turning to his desk and bringing his monitor back online.

  Shit, Leonard wasn’t kidding. A blurry picture of something obviously not natural appeared on his feed.

  “Go be with Dee and the baby. No work’s going to get done today.”

  Dusty didn’t wait for another invitation. “Stay in touch.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Dusty let himself in the door, trying to be quiet in case one or both were sleeping. He spotted Dee on the couch, her eyes glued to the monitor, Erica in her arms.

  “You okay?” he asked. Stupid question, he already knew the answer. No one was. He was frankly amazed he’d made it home in only slightly more time than usual.

  If the vehicles in use these days weren’t mostly self-driving, there would have been gridlock. There were plenty of delays as people attempted to remove their cars from the grid. He’d seen minor panics before, nothing on this scale. By the time he’d reached his car, going manual was no longer an option.

  “I’m scared,”
Dee admitted. “Is this real? What’s happening? Do you know anything?”

  “No. No one at NASA is taking our calls. Not even the brass. They’re too busy.”

  He studied the large monitor. The main view centered on the ships, now more than one. The smaller views showed the panic in the streets. Those he ignored. These pictures were clearer than the ones he’d first seen. Someone must have repositioned every satellite orbiting the planet to obtain this view.

  There had only been one ship when he checked his monitor before leaving the office. Another had been directly behind it. The new information was broadcast to his car on the drive home, but without visual. How many more were going to appear? These two hadn’t been detected until after they’d passed Jupiter.

  Their propulsion and speed would be studied for a long time, if there was anyone left to study after this.

  He sat beside Dee and wrapped his arms around his two women. Only a few hours ago he’d been rejoicing in their renewed bond. Dee looked up at him, her fearful eyes relieved by some renewed comfort in his presence.

  Now they waited.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dee finally dozed against him, exhausted from fear and the strain of waiting, when nothing new had been reported. Even asleep, her body still held tension and she’d refused to go to bed. Erica lay in Dusty’s arms now.

  There was panic in the streets and some looting though the looters didn’t seem to be enjoying it. The coverage showed them watching the skies as they ran. When this was over, their faces would be widely displayed.

  Would screens and electronics be worth anything tomorrow?

  Food also flew off the shelves. At least Dusty knew they were good for now. Dee followed Mrs. Masters and Cook’s advice when they had returned to the present regarding what supplies to always keep on hand. Their stores wouldn’t last forever, but it would keep them out of the crush of people.