Gentle Beast

by Margaret Afseth

  GENTLE BEAST

  By

  Margaret Afseth

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2013 by Margaret Afseth

  Creative Commons License. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be reproduced, copied or distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes, as it is the copyrighted property of the author. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by same author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ISBN:978-0-9917562-4-7

  Publisher's note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and similarity to people living or dead purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to all the babies who never got to grow up: those miscarried, aborted, or selfishly murdered in our world.

  A Guide to knowing the creatures of this tale:

  NOOR: a humanoid being with exceptional psychic abilities, the degree varying with each individual. Some also have the capability to separate its mental essence from the physical body.

  -In a conjunctive male: the two halves exhibit themselves as two separate physical entities.

  example: Liam/Loki

  -In an introvert female: the two display as different personalities; only one dominates at a time.

  example: Tilk/Susa.

  FELINE: man-size intelligent cat beings.

  example: Dia, Kimon, Uel

  BEAR: a giant bear being-intelligent, protective, used as body guards

  ROOT: tree-like beings. Said to have little empathy, a trickster and devious.

  example: Theee, More and Zaba

  ROOG: large dog-like beings. Not necessarily highly intelligent; very aggressive and predatory.

  SLITHER: snake-like creature with chameleon abilities. Also able to remain invisible for long periods of time. Usually a light blue-green, but color darkens when they are about to attack. Only emotions it is capable of are protective instinct and anger-attack. When a Slither emotionally attaches to a being not of their kind, it will protect for life.

  BOM: a cross-breed Roog/Feline

  LIAM/LOKI: a cross-breed Noor/Feline

  Other NOOR/FELINE are: Twila and Jabek; Shiveron and Reon

  TUSHA: a HUMAN/NOOR

  Other HUMAN/NOOR: Nyle and Kaudy, Moriah and Iora.

  SLITHER/HUMAN: Sith and mate Serene

  BEAR/HUMAN: Wadi and mate Rimu

  Enjoy the story.

  PROLOGUE:

  Shiveron could hear the growling and hissing from where he stood guard at the double doors of the medical centre entrance. He took off running, knowing any disagreement was detrimental to the recovery of the patients. As he loped through the occupied beds, he pulled at the laser weapon on his belt.

  It has to be that half-dog in the bay again, picking a fight!

  The ship was Feline built, owned and operated by Dia and head physician Kimon. True, the two were a soft touch when it came to mixed species beings, and tended to adopt them, when no one else would give them a place in society, but though their crew included a sprinkling of many universal and mixed races, such as half Slither, half Bear, half Human, half Noor, half Feline, half Roog, and any other unfortunate combination, it mainly was staffed by Felines.

  Because med bay physicians were mostly related or fosters, the entire craft was family orientated, and a hospital Zone. None were ever turned away, whether of mixed or pure persuasion. This was a ship devoted to healing.

  Only one could boast the mixture Roog/Feline, and however obnoxious he might be, he was part of the cat race. Felines tolerated him, but many of most species disliked him exceedingly. This merely amused the Roog half, and he lived to antagonize, often taking advantage of the benevolent nature of this ship and its proprietors.

  Why doesn’t that creature stay on the prison facility he is supposed to be governing? In that establishment, he can fight when he pleases, taunt, mock; tease and torment his inmates to his heart’s content, without fear of reprisal; there he has a captive audience. But no, he chooses instead to make life miserable for those who serve here.

  Arriving on scene, Shiveron pulled up short, shocked as he realized the one who had risen to the challenge was none other than his half-Noor, foster brother; the respected and caring instant healer.

  What can have caused such a lapse from the norm? Loki seldom argues, let alone fights!

  The tormentor towered over him. Droopy ears, snarling face and the slathering, barred teeth of a bulldog; head dark black with tan muzzle, indeed that of a dog, but on the body of a cat.

  His appearance was more the mangy feline than canine/Roog: long shaggy black coat, matted bushy tail, tan feet and paws, the claws fully viciously extended. Standing eight feet tall, and smelling like the sewer he frequented: unwashed, unsanitary, fowl; a travesty in a vessel dedicated to sterilized curing. This was Bom, the bane of all Feline!

  Appearing the smaller of the two, because of his usual humble attitude and stance, Loki was actually a bit taller, at eight foot three. He had been raised in the cat world, but normally, there seemed little evidence of feline in this male.

  Face mostly man-like, except for the blue feline eyes with their elliptical-pupils; his humanoid features were topped with a thatch of ginger curls, hiding his tiny cat ears. The back of his neck and shoulders showed a light short fuzz of fur, but otherwise, he appeared of human origin, though in fact that was deceptive, merely an indication of his mixed Noor blood, instead.

  As the typically tender, careful hands ministered to the sick and injured, his weapons were usually pulled in, concealed from view; these claws were now extended. The seven-foot, shorthaired tail, always kept invisible, was presently in frantic motion, out in plain sight, both these unusual occurrences indicative of his extreme agitated state.

  Loki hissed, returning Bom’s challenge. He hadn’t yet used his Noor talents, but Shiveron had never seen his foster brother this provoked; he might still put them into play.

  The door guardian, stood there clutching his weapon, holding his breath, uncertain what to do.

  ****

  Kimon heard the commotion, the god-awful yowling, as he worked on a small Root female. He knew immediately the culprit was Bom. Hissing his disapproval, he handed his patient over to another, and moved purposely to the area of the ruckus.

  Why is it, when that male has off time, he insists on provoking the staff in my med bay?

  Kimon determined, before this day had ended, he would put a stop to this once and for all. He didn’t dare attack the prison warden himself, but the other contender would be discouraged from participating in such behaviour again. If this weren’t dealt with swiftly, Bom would stop at nothing, not until death was visited upon his adversary.

  This is a place of healing, not a brawling tavern!

  But Kimon had hardly expected to find the culprit to be one of his own Noor fosters.

  Loki and Bom locked into a body clutch just as he came upon the scene.

  And even more infuriating, Shiveron, who was suppose to police such an incident, stood frozen in indecision, his weapon in his hand.

  Such a useless enforcer!

  Fury in every movement, Kimon charged forward, and grabbed the guard’s ray-wand as he past him.

  To his credit, the physician could not be blamed for what he did not know. It had not occurred to him, that the weapon would not be set to stun. It was in sleep mode; the setting still at negative, to ensure it was non-effective for anything save a Noor.

  His half Noor children were seldom a problem; that setting only used to drain their energy, if they
were injured, became disoriented, and lost control of their powers. The wand had a two-fold purpose: for those of Noor blood, one of restraint for the safety of others, and when set to positive, an active weapon against aggression in another species.

  To make matters worse, Shiveron’s last encounter in battle had required the second setting to be at Kill. Negative/Kill was only used as a last resort. To execute a Noor!

  When Kimon raised the weapon and fired, his foster son folded abruptly, hitting the metal floor with a jarring thud.

  Loki was the strongest half-Noor male in history; generally even a deathblow could not fell him, unless he was in a weakened state, or in heal-back. And through this day, this Instant healer had cured many, by taking in their injuries into his own body. He had been at his lowest energy, not quite healed back from his last repair of a patient.

  Perhaps, that is why he so easily lost his temper?

  The huge male went down hard. His image shimmered, like a neon sign losing power, but it did not blink out.

  Not dead, at least!

  Those around stood in horrified shock, Kimon not the least of those. His jaw dropped open in disbelief. Only, when his foster daughter, Twila, wailed plaintively behind him, did he clamped his teeth shut with a snap, and moan disconcertedly.

  What have I done?

  Bom laughed, as he stood over the victim, finding the situation playing out to his extreme satisfaction. When Kimon glared at him, he shrugged, then growled deep in his throat.

  “He attacked me!” he thundered defensively.

  Kimon rather doubted that.

  Aware of the obvious scepticism, Bom still pressed his point. “He challenged me! I am his elder, and a superior besides! This requires punishment for aggressive behaviour. You are pledged to treat all with dignity, are you not?”

  Kimon ignore the question, going right to the core of the matter. “If he was misbehaving, I will deal with him…”

  “I want him punished, not by you, by legal means.” He snarled derisively. “He is Noor,” he stated with contempt, as if that alone were a crime. “A Noor is not permitted rights! They are non-creatures, beneath us!”

  Kimon knew he’d best hold his temper, or this would end with him in a prison facility, as well. “He has a right to a hearing, as any other. The facts are needed here…”

  “I have judged him! I will sentence him! It is my right as the affronted!”

  “You are not my superior, Bom! We will take it before the council. They will determine if a crime has been committed.”

  Encouraged by her Foster’s bravado, Twila spoke timidly from the sidelines. “Loki was defending me, Papa. Bom wanted…but I was unwilling to accept his advances. He wouldn’t leave me be. Loki stepped in, telling him to leave. Then Bom…said…put down of momma Dia, dishonored her with…many explicit derogatory names. He kept at it until it drove Loki to anger…and then to fight.”

  “As is Bom’s usual tactic,” Shiveron agreed in a low tone, at his side.

  Kimon grunted. The beast was trying to staff his prison med-bay again.

  “You take the witness of a female over me? And another Noor mixed one at that,” Bom challenged. “I sentence him! To my prison! He defied me!”

  “First off,” Kimon declared hotly. “On this ship, as in other Feline establishments, a female’s word is law! Whether of mixed breed or pure, the females rule our society, and while you are in our company you follow our rules. You are not on a dog compound! We will take this to the Universal council, if you persist!”

  “So,” growled Bom. “You wish to challenge me too? Have you forgotten my father stands as head of that council?”

  Kimon sighed. He knew what was coming, and how such a procedure would end.

  Into the dead silence that followed, Bom snarled. “Put this Noor scum in a drain belt!”

  Kimon nodded to an orderly. “Set it on low.”

  “No!” thundered Bom. “It goes on high!”

  Kimon shook his head in surrender. Bom was the son of the highest Universal command, and if they disobeyed him, this ship would be closed down, not permitted to treat casualties, maybe even, all present would find themselves in the prison under Bom’s devious whim. Everyone knew the surety, that’s why it always ended the same. Bom got his medical staff in the end. But until this moment, he had never taken their Instant healer.

  What is the half-dog up to this time?

  As the unconscious giant was contained, Kimon asked meekly. “How long is his sentence to be?”

  “I will have him for a year.”

  “No,” Kimon moaned. “He will never survive so long in the drain belt. Think, Bom,” he appealed. “Who will you have to torture, should he die?”

  Bom laughed, conceding. “Six months, then. And I will quickly extend that should he offend me again.”

  Kimon’s shoulders sagged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Liam rush into the bay, assess the situation, and narrow his eyes as if for retaliation. There was no need to explain what had gone before to Loki’s telepathic conjunctive twin; he was their mental half; the holder of their powers. Loki was merely their physical strength.

  Do nothing.

  Kimon knew Liam would read the thoughts he projected, because they had communicated in such a way before.

  If you remain separate, Bom can do less harm.

  Obediently, Liam backed away into obscurity, so he would not be noticed.

  CHAPTER 1

  Althea was the first to acknowledge, the average person had it hard. But as far as she was concerned, right now, her life sucked big time! More than usual!

  It wasn’t because she was sick. She had the usual handicaps of those her age: false teeth, nearsightedness, which required trifocals, and a prolapsed bladder, also taken care of with an inner pessary that had set her back nearly a hundred bucks. But otherwise, for sixty, she was exceptionally healthy.

  Nor was her problem her income. She had managed to qualify for the meagre government early retirement pension. And recently, she had also started a sideline in-home business. Though not exactly in demand, she made enough from writing instructional copy to supplement that income. She would never be rich, but she had enough to pay the bills, and still eat adequately.

  The building in which she lived on the fifth floor was not overly plush, but it did sport a mini common area at the elevator doors on each floor. This twenty-foot square visiting space contained two nondescript compact loveseats, one on the outside wall, another across from the two elevators, with a sturdy block coffee table between. Usually, the area was seldom if ever used, and those that did linger, came and went quickly.

  The problem was Althea’s living room was situated directly behind the elevator. It seemed when they had constructed the complex, the designers were under the impression the steel frame of the elevator shaft would cushion sound; if they had insulated at all, it had been sparingly. They had also failed to sound proof the hallway. As a result, the tenant behind the public lift heard not only every conversation from the corridor outside, but also any dialogue carried on in the visitor corner.

  Althea had lived here for over six years. The floor was usually quiet, both at night and during the day, a perfect place to work silently at your computer undisturbed. That was until recently.

  Two month before, an older couple had moved into the two-bedroom suite across from the comfy elevator sitting area. It appeared they thought the common space was an extension of their own personal living quarters for, as often as not, the husband could be found lounging out there with a book.

  When he vacated the space, his wife took up waiting out there, clearly intent on enticing a visit from anyone riding up from below.

  When guests would come, instead of retiring to their rented rooms, these were entertained in the common visitor area. For the life of her, Althea could not understand why their own suite was unsuitable for entertaining, but this seemed to have become a condition she must live with.

  At one point, before
she realized they were responsible for the constant disturbances, Althea had confidentially shared with the couple the fact that her walls were paper thin, and she could hear every word spoken, but it had not made the slightest difference in their behaviour.

  She had also spoken to the caretaker, who had informed her it was a public area, and as it was the middle of the day, there wasn’t much he could do. If she had a complaint, she needed to take it to the building’s owners. Althea feared that would cause her own eviction in the end, so she was loath to put action behind her annoyance.

  And so the situation had continued to go on unchecked. It seemed the favourite time for entertaining was mid afternoon, just as Althea got down to the nitty-gritty of editing her work, in preparation for sending it out at the four o’clock deadline.

  The couple was usually soft-spoken in there dealings with Althea, but their guests were inclined to be of a much more raucous breed. Today they were exceptionally loud, and she was finding it impossible to concentrate. Unbearable!

  The group sounded like a pack of dogs howling and challenging each other. The hissed whispers, grating gravelly lower tones, and barking strident laughter, was driving her to distraction. Althea toyed with the thought of going out there and confronting them, but she was a timid person, conflict terrified her, so she clenched her teeth and tried to finish her work.

  And got nowhere. In her frustration, she almost accidentally deleted all her hard won copy.

  A burst of hard laughter, and a new voice joined in the fray. Althea couldn’t identify the newcomer, but she seemed extra vociferous.

  Who the devil is that?

  The newest arrival seemed to monopolize the conversation. In a voice high enough to aggravate, yet too unclear to distinguish words clearly, she went on and on recounting some supposedly humorous yarn. After ten minutes, Althea could take no more.

  Against her inner warning, she pushed out her chair, stood and made for the door to the hall. She would just peek around the corner to see whom the voice belonged to, explain they were disturbing her.