by Don Newton
“Wait, you’re saying there are Gods?” Darkonus chuckled. “I wish you magic-types would get your story straight.”
“Yin and Yang are not Gods; they’re the underlying principles that move the multiverse: the good and evil, the right and wrong. We magic-types are connected to Yin directly, and that brings me to the point I was trying to make before you interrupted me…”
Darkonus waved his hands in defeat and walked back to his chair.
“Sa’riya is something new. Our laws have forbidden mixing the races for as long as I can remember, which is longer than anyone here.” She looked at each of them—they all nodded. “But that doesn’t mean we should jump to the conclusion that it’s a bad thing.”
“Are you trying to influence the Inquisitor?” Markus asked.
“Not at all.” Nu’reen shook her head. “I’m putting things in perspective: a perspective that he doesn’t have without knowledge of Yin.”
“Ahh.” Darkonus smiled at her. “You mean this might be the will of Yin?”
She shook her head and closed her eyes. “Yin has no will. Yin is fluid and ever-changing and impossible to define. I suggest that you keep an open mind as we decide how bad this woman’s actions were, because we can’t know what Yin is becoming, and she could well be a part of it…”
“Becoming?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Things change, but not always in a negative way…”
***
“So, you can get us where we need to be?”
“Absolutely.” Karl slapped Damian on the back and grinned.
They leaned against the upper railing of the Griffin Corral, watching them prance and play with each other. They were magnificent beasts, and more intelligent than you might give them credit for.
“Carion!” Karl whistled.
The largest one broke off from whatever Griffin-game they were playing and bounded over to them; he came to a dust-filled halt beside the fence and put his beak over the top rail, nuzzling Karl’s arm, a soft trill coming from his throat: a mixture of Cattus-purr and Eagle-shriek.
“They can easily carry two riders.” Karl stroked the Griffin's head. “We will be exposed, though, and the Draggons will see us coming. Krasus Cauldron is well-guarded.”
“I think we have that covered,” Damian said.
Karl stared at him, watching his eyes. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Damian couldn’t lie to him: they’d spilled too much blood together, he would know. “Kavan is involved.”
“You should have said that, to begin with.” The creases in his forehead deepened.
Damian stared at the ground. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m not comfortable with it either.”
“And yet, you agreed to it?” Karl asked.
“Kavan seems sincere, he made a valid argument, and it’s an opportunity to kill Darkonus… I don’t think we can pass that up.”
“But to what end?” Karl asked. “Another will take his place.”
Damian nodded and scratched Carion’s haunch, the lion-half of him edged closer to the fence, rubbing up against the poles. “Maybe one that we can talk to. At the least, it will throw them into disarray for a while.”
Karl held his right palm up; a deep scar ran across it. “This means I will do whatever you need. You don’t have to ask.”
Damian looked at the matching scar on his own palm and grasped Karl’s hand. “Thank you, brother…”
***
“So, let’s get straight to the second charge.” Darkonus turned to the Council. “I’m confused: would that be the interfering thing or the killing-her-sister part?”
“We can only accuse her of her sister’s death if we find her guilty for interfering with the laws of matter,” Ka’rin explained.
“I see. So, this is a terrible thing, interfering with matter?” he asked.
Jemma walked to the metal wall and stared at them before turning to Darkonus. “It shouldn’t be possible: they made this law up, for this occasion.”
“I don’t understand…” he looked confused.
“Magic is magic:” Jemma explained, “it can’t, or rather it shouldn’t affect matter.”
“But I’ve seen you people stop time…” Darkonus said.
“Time is different: even when we stop it, we must eventually let it continue; we can’t hold it forever, and the physical world doesn’t change.”
“I think I get it,” he said. “What she did should be impossible, and that’s why you’re all afraid of her: because none of you can do it.”
“That’s an excellent way of putting it.” Nu’reen smiled.
“It’s probably easier if I testify now,” Jemma said, “since I’m partially responsible for all of this.”
Darkonus made a sweeping gesture with one hand toward the dais. “Be my guest.”
Jemma joined Sa’riya and took her hand. “This is what happened…”
~~~
Captain Andreia Soder set the autopilot, checked the scopes again to verify their course to Caralon, and strolled back to the galley where the others were playing cards and telling lies. They’d become increasingly louder, and her curiosity meter was red-lining.
She glanced out the portholes on her left as she passed; she could see the edge of the Minden Asteroid Belt approaching, but the course she’d set would carry them well around it.
The ship was loaded with Terillium, headed for the forges at Sunai-Base. They’d spent five weeks in flight to pick it up from the mining colonies on Darabon, and this was the end of the five-week trip back home.
Everyone was a little loopy—cabin-fever wrestling with their minds.
She stepped into the galley. “Alright you losers, what in Harlan’s name are you doing back here?”
Three heads turned her way. When they saw she was smiling, they let out a collective sigh and resumed their laughter.
“Captain, sit down!” Rory pointed at the empty chair and pushed the bottle of Sunerian whiskey towards her.
“Nah,” she waved it away, “I’m on watch, and we’ll be docking soon, need to keep my head clear. You three need to slow down too.” She raised one eyebrow.
“One little Alcagone tablet and we’ll be good ash new…” Harmon slurred; his eyes unfocused.
“I hate the headache you get from those things.” She shook her head.
Kelli nodded agreement and took her hand. “You remember what happened on New-Cycle Day last year?”
Andreia rubbed her eyes and smiled. “I will never forget, dear…”
“Why, what happened?” Rory took a sip of the whiskey and passed the bottle to his left.
“Well, it wasn’t a headache…” Kelli grinned at Andreia.
“Please don’t tell them, I’ll never live it down,” Andreia pleaded.
“She spent most of the day on her knees in front of the crapper, but I don’t think it was the Alcagone—most likely it was the twelve Sandsnakes she swallowed on a bet before she took the pill.”
The two men looked at each other and shuddered.
“I hate those things…” Harmon stuck his tongue out in disgust.
“They’re a delicacy in certain parts of the galaxy…” Andreia mumbled.
“Speaking of getting paid…” Rory said, focusing on the Captain.
“I don’t think we were.” She winked and punched him in the chest.
“This is our biggest haul ever;” he said, “how much you think we’ll clear after expenses?”
“Plenty. We should be able to make all the repairs we need and still have ten-thousand credits left.”
“Ten-thousand?” His forehead wrinkled, and his mouth fell open. “That’s all?”
“Each, dummy.” She laughed.
They all laughed and congratulated each other on their fabulous luck.
Harmon drained the remains of the bottle and gave them a glimpse of his widest smile. “Man, I love being a shmuggler…”
~~~
The asteroid the a
stronomers labeled P3X-24B was large enough to have its own gravity, and it frequently collided with the smaller rocks surrounding it: it wasn’t a strong pull, but it was enough to smash the minor asteroids into dust. The force of gravity usually kept a hold on any of the smaller pieces, the largest ones becoming moons and small satellites.
The asteroid which hit P3X-24B that day was larger than any which had previously collided with it: a rogue rock flung from an orbit around another larger body. It smashed into the planet-side face with enough force to shatter it into five separate pieces—four of them were smaller, and P3X-24B happily pulled them into its own orbital system. The remaining chunk was ejected from the collision at something close to forty-thousand miles per hour; it bounced off a few local asteroids, silent puffs of rocky dust plumes marking its course, then shot out into the void of space, leaving P3X-24B no choice but to be satisfied with its new satellites and watch it go.
***
“What does this have to do with the sun exploding?” Darkonus pupils flared yellow, and his face took on a dejected look. “Someone told me the sun exploded…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll get your explosion, Darkonus. The purpose of explaining what happened to cause that is to show Sa’riya had no choice but to act,” Jemma said. “Violation of the law requires intent, and she had none, which I’ll show if you’ll stop interrupting me…”
Darkonus stood and bowed slightly toward her with a flourish of one hand.
The thwack of the gavel startled everyone. “It’s getting late, so I’m calling a recess until tomorrow morning at sunrise.” Nu’reen laid the gavel down and stood.
“We need to bind her here.” Jurak pointed at Sa’riya.
“No, we don’t, she’s coming with me,” Nu’reen said. “I’ll be responsible for her. Do you have a problem with that, Jurak?”
He watched the silver fire build in her eyes and the way her forehead creased.
He shook his head.
***
Jurak stepped out of the swirling black portal and stalked up the hallway toward the living areas. He could hear Karon playing in the side-yard, the music of childish laughter floating through the crack in the semi-closed glass door. He stopped and watched the boy for a moment while the fear grew in his mind, imagining the potential result of a guilty verdict for Sa’riya. He shook his head to clear it and turned away, heading for the kitchen.
He found Hagan and Dorelle sitting at the table drinking Kaffa. They were surprised by his entrance: they didn’t see much of him, so every time he dropped in was a shock.
“Father…” Hagan almost spit out the sip of Kaffa he’d taken. Dorelle sat there frozen, her cup halfway to her lips.
Jurak sat at the head of the table with one of them on either side, his eyes bouncing back and forth between them. “You let him play out there by himself?”
“Oh, don’t start…” Hagan rolled his eyes. “The yard is surrounded by an eight-foot fence, and I’m watching him in my mind as we speak—I’m always watching him.”
Jurak nodded, the purple fire in his eyes flared. “Good, but it may not be enough…”
“What do you mean?” Hagan asked.
“You know what I mean,” Jurak said. “If she’s found guilty, then you’re guilty too. We haven’t even discussed the fate of her children.”
“But no one knows about us.” Hagan looked at Dorelle, she shook her head.
“It’s a universal truth Hagan:” she said, “secrets always get revealed, it’s a matter of time.”
“Time, an interesting point of reference,” he smiled, “since it doesn’t apply to us…”
“But it does apply to her.” Jurak nodded at Dorelle. “She’s human, even though you granted her immortality. She’s more like the Draggons than like us: she’s subject to linear time, and time has a way of catching up and exposing your secrets.”
They were quiet for a moment, considering his words. Hagan finally took a sip of Kaffa and placed the cup back on the table. “Was the exception granted?”
“Yes. I did my best to appear against it,” Jurak said.
“So, we’re good,” Hagan said. “If they aren’t making an issue of her mating with a human, what else could go wrong?”
Jurak shook his head. “We’re at the point of determining the danger of the blending.”
“But I haven’t experienced any difference.” Hagan’s brow furrowed.
“That doesn’t mean you won’t,” Dorelle said.
“I swear, you both worry too much.” Hagan laughed and took a sip of Kaffa.
Dorelle stood and retrieved a third cup from the counter, but Jurak stopped her with a wave of his hand. She shrugged and refilled the other two cups from a crystal carafe.
“This danger;” she asked him, “what did this woman do?”
“She killed her sister,” Hagan answered for him, “and you know how the K’Pa feel about that since they’re all born as twins.”
She nodded and took her seat. “It’s their First Law, right?”
“Who knows…?” Jurak shook his head. “The K’Pa have far too many laws, it’s hard to keep them straight.”
“Did she kill her sister, or was it an accident? Hagan asked.
“I’m not sure they make a distinction between the two,” Jurak said.
“Well, that’s unfair,” Dorelle mumbled.
Hagan grasped her hand and looked at Jurak. “Can you keep the two of us a secret?”
Jurak laughed and crossed his arms. “As long as you don’t stop any suns from exploding… maybe.”
***
“Are you hungry?” Nu’reen grasped Sa’riya’s hand across the bar. “They’ve locked you in your human form for a while, have you eaten?”
“I’ve maintained human form ever since I met Karl,” Sa’riya said. “I have no appetite with all this going on.”
They were sitting in Karl and Sa’riya’s cottage, Jerain had taken the children outside to play.
“I’m still not sure why all this is happening, Nu’reen.” Sa’riya stared out the window.
Nu’reen was a middle-aged woman right now, her hazel hair streaked with gray; the wrinkles around her eyes squinching sympathy for the younger woman. “Let me tell you a story.”
“This isn’t one I’ve already heard, is it? Karl does that to me all the time…”
“No, I doubt it.” Nu’reen smiled and grabbed her chin. “What are you and your sister, five-hundred, six-hundred years old?”
“Something like that, I forget.”
“Yeah, after a while you stop counting…” Nu’reen stared into space, lost in thought.
“You promised me a story.” Sa’riya broke her from her reverie with a touch on the arm.
“Right!” Nu’reen leaned back in her chair, her eyes still distant. “There’s always been this law against mixing with other races, but we didn’t even know about humans until two-thousand years ago. Humans are not from this galaxy, not from this universe really: they came here through a rift in space. I doubt they even knew what they were doing—they were fleeing from some kind of catastrophe on their home world—I never knew the name of the planet they came from. The Interstellar-Drives in their ships created a fissure in space-time, and they ended up here in our reality.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“No, Sa’riya, I’m not, and all the elders know this, Darkonus does too. Darkonus is only a few-hundred-thousand years younger than Markus, and while Markus can’t wage war on the humans because of his position on the Council, Darkonus is free to do so: he’s been trying to wipe out the humans ever since they arrived—he sees them as unwanted immigrants. Your husband is his nemesis—and every Na’Geena Chieftain before him. Without the Na’Geena, the Draggons would have wiped out humanity long ago.”
“I asked Karl about the Na’Geena and where they came from, he said he didn’t know.”
“That’s because of The Forgetting… and I’m afraid that’s my sister’s responsibility.
”
“Ji’yael?”
“Yes.” Nu’reen pursed her lips like she’d tasted something sour. “My sister has been trying to ascend like you have, for the better part of history, but two things are stopping her.”
“What are they?” Sa’riya asked.
“She would need to take a mate of another species, and I don’t see that happening since no one can stand to be around her for long,” Nu’reen grinned.
Sa’riya laughed and looked out the window; she could see the children and Jerain playing around the fish-pond Karl claimed he couldn’t find. “What’s the second thing?”
“She would need to kill me and absorb my half of our power.”
“What is this, Forgetting?” Sa’riya turned back toward her.
“You’re familiar with the four Gods the humans worship?” Nu’reen asked.
“Yes, Karl is suspicious of them.”
“He’s right to be because Ji’yael created them; taught them everything they know, and she used a spell to make the humans forget,” Nu’reen said.
“Forget what?”
“Everything…”
“But you remember everything because it didn’t affect the Immortal races?” Sa’riya asked.
“Yes, that’s right.” Nu’reen smiled.
“So who are the Na’Geena then?”
Nu’reen leaned toward her. “They’re the descendants of the original humans. I taught them who they were again, most of it, after The Forgetting, and I forged the three swords to help them defend against the Draggons.”
“Isn’t that interfering with their reality?” Sa’riya asked. “Aren’t you breaking K’Pa law?”
“No, for two reasons. Ji’yael gave the Draggons their daggers, which gave them an advantage which had to be balanced. Creating the swords accomplished that.”
“And the other reason?”
“The other reason is you, Sa’riya.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You know the immortal races, except for the Draggons, exist outside of time, and because we are everywhere-always, when you married Karl and infused your blood with his, it made the Na’Geena part of our family; all of them, always… which makes them immune to the Third Law. We’re free to interact with them, as you and I are now; although I would caution you about the dangers of too much information.” Nu’reen leaned back in her chair.
