Her Robot Wolf: Gift of Gaia

by Jenny Schwartz

  He shrugged one massive shoulder. “If you want to control someone, you keep them from accessing their full strength. You place blocks.” His mouth twisted at the use of the same word I’d used to refer to stealing someone else’s summoned sha energy. “You condition a person to see themselves and the world a certain way, then they can’t imagine a scenario that would have them escaping your control.”

  “Do alpha shifters do that?” I asked, shaken.

  “All humans are capable of it. It happens in families and corporations. We’re a manipulative species,” he said it calmly, as a fact that he’d accepted long ago.

  “Is that why you work alone?” The question jolted out of me.

  “No.” He tapped the star map displayed on the table, and changed the subject. “We need more information on the Imperial Crown.”

  My thoughts stuttered, broke and refocused. “What did the Meitj tell you when they issued the bounty for Ivan?”

  “Nothing. But I know an expert on Meitj history who can help us. Unfortunately, he’ll only discuss matters in person. It’s an idiosyncrasy. He’s on Origin.”

  I studied the star map. “That’s a three day journey.”

  “Two in the Orion.”

  “Even so.” I traced a finger along the standard starlane from its nearest point to us back to Origin. “We also have to factor in the time it’ll take us to catch up with Ivan. The Meitj Imperial Palace is on Naidoc. That’s another two to three day journey from Origin. Is your expert really worth a five day detour?”

  “Summer is a professor of Meitj history at the Proper University. He’s also a master forger and antiquities expert. If anyone can tell us why Ivan wants the Imperial Crown, it’s Summer.”

  And once we knew why Ivan wanted the Imperial Crown, we’d have a much better chance of deducing his likely plan to steal it. Plus, an expert forger of antiquities would surely have some professional awareness of the security in place at the Meitj Imperial Palace.

  “Okay.” I accepted the detour. I tapped the map, expanding and shifting its focus. “Let’s see if we can shave some time off the journey. There ought to be a wormhole about here that most starships avoid. It’s rough, but with me onboard the Orion will survive it. We’ll head away from Origin for three hundred and seventy clicks, in the direction of Station Iceberg. When we enter the wormhole, I’ll take over piloting the ship. We’ll re-emerge here.”

  Vulf studied where my fingertip pointed. “Four hundred clicks from Origin. We’ll save nearly a day if you can get us through the wormhole—that by the way is marked ‘perilous, do not venture— at normal speed?”

  I nodded.

  He whistled under his breath. “Impressive. I can see why the Academy wants to own you.”

  Chapter 7

  Origin was the planet chosen to host the Galaxy Proper’s key institutions. Its atmosphere was habitable for the union’s first member species, and it emerged later, for humans.

  The Orion docked at the mercantile spaceport after two hours of queuing. An hour after that Vulf and I had cleared security, Vulf had surrendered his weapons, and we were strolling through the grounds of Proper University in the late afternoon sunshine.

  Gigantic succulents the size of oak trees lined the main driveway. Vehicles were banned within the university grounds except for licensed personal mobility assistance vehicles and those required by maintenance crew to carry equipment and supplies. The idea was that if everyone—students, staff and visitors—was required to perambulate rather than close themselves away in their vehicles, there would be more interaction between the many species who attended the university.

  The architectural styles of the various buildings reflected Galaxy Proper’s member species. The mLa’an’s delicate floating decahedron rubbed shoulders with the Sidhe’s treehouse-style complex and both were grounded by the Aalg’s low entrance to their bunker.

  I had visited Proper University on one of the Academy’s fieldtrips, but it was different to walk beside Vulf rather than with equally excited teenage classmates. Vulf didn’t squeal at the sight of an Aalg caterpillaring itself toward us, a handbag hooked over one bristle-spike and a woven lunch bag over another, sissa grass poking out of it. Vulf merely stepped off the path and let the student progress. The Aalg was obviously a student. It had painted various student slogans on its indigo skin. When it shed its skin, something Aalg’s did every other year, I wondered if it would keep this one for the memories.

  “This way.” Vulf caught my hand as I would have wandered on, fascinated by every new discovery. It sounded as if a Bettel band played somewhere deeper in the university grounds.

  In the day’s travel to Origin, Vulf and I hadn’t discussed the mating heat that simmered between us, nor any other personal issues. We had used the gym equipment separately, and shared information we gathered while researching the Meitj Imperial Crown. We were crewmates. Vulf had stayed awake while I guided the Orion through its jump through the ‘perilous’ wormhole. To me, the wild energy of the wormhole’s sha fizzed intoxicatingly. It wasn’t dangerous, unless you counted the sheer pleasure I had in playing with it.

  “You look beautiful when you’re happy,” Vulf had said. Before his mouth clamped shut and he’d abruptly left the bridge.

  Just as abruptly, he now dropped my hand. Even that slight touch had roused the mating heat, shimmering warmth in my palm and turning me instinctively toward him.

  The tension in his shoulders and the way he avoided my gaze said he felt it, too. “The Meitj building is behind the Administration Tower.”

  The direct route was through the Administration Tower, but Vulf chose instead to circle it. Spacers, those of us who spent much of our lives aboard starships, tended to fall into one of two categories when we ventured planetside. Either we hid from the atmosphere, taking tunnels and covered structures, or at a pinch, vehicles, to get around. Or we took every opportunity to be outside, to enjoy unfiltered air, atmospherically safe solar energy and the simple freedom of unconstrained movement without cargo holds, hatches and endless passageways. Vulf was obviously of the latter group. So was I.

  It would have been convenient if the Meitj building had been built as a smaller-scale replica of the Meitj Imperial Palace. Some species had showcased their principal cultural structure when contributing a building to the university. If the Meitj had done so, then visiting Vulf’s expert would also have served to familiarize us with the palace that Ivan had broken into and likely intended to breach a second time.

  Unfortunately, rather than copy their Imperial Palace the Meitj had chosen to build a dome, albeit a dome that sprouted other, shallower domes. It looked rather like a silver fungus. We took an elevator, then stairs, and finally, traversed a suspended walkway across a concert hall, to reach Professor Summer.

  The Meitj academic and antiquities forger was a delightful surprise; alert, humorous and instantly welcoming. He waved us into his study with both of his middle arms. His multi-faceted eyes glittered orange and green.

  “Vulf! My boy. How wonderful to see you, and on Origin of all places.” Professor Summer shook Vulf’s hand with enthusiasm, and still holding it, looked interestedly at me.

  “Professor, may I introduce my friend, Jaya Romanov.”

  “Delighted, delighted.”

  I had my hand shaken with matching enthusiasm. The Meitj’s claw gripped mine gently.

  “And how is your grandmother, the redoubtable Freda?” the professor asked Vulf after we were seated.

  For a few minutes, the two males exchanged news of people I hadn’t heard of. Professor Summer was obviously a family friend. Finally, he leaned back in his chair. “As much as I’m enjoying talking to someone who is not a student.” His eyes glittered bronze with humor. “Or worse, a fellow academic. Zz-zz.” He laughed. “I’m sure you’re here for a reason.”

  “We are.” Vulf paused a moment. “I expect you can guess why?”

  “Mmm, yes. A million solidus bounty…” The professor was posi
tively enjoying the moment. “A wonderful opportunity for you, Vulf, and suited to your skillset. But if this shaman, Ivan Mishkin, has managed to avoid you so far, you’ll be wanting a different angle by which to track him. You want to know the inside story on the item he attempted to steal.”

  The comprehensive assessment of our purpose in visiting caused me to reassess the elderly Meitj.

  He smiled at me. “A million solidus bounty intrigues even an academic, my dear. And for all Meitj, the attempt by a human to steal the Imperial Crown was of major interest. Of course, the attempt was foiled. However, Ivan Mishkin came closer to succeeding than any thief in centuries.”

  “Others have tried to steal the Imperial Crown?” I asked. This information hadn’t come up in the research Vulf and I had undertaken while travelling here on the Orion.

  “The rubies in the crown are remarkable.” Professor Summer tapped some instructions on the panel inset on his desk. A moment later, a holograph of the Imperial Crown hung suspended in the air.

  A smooth band of rhodium looped over itself and where it swirled into an elaborate knot, three incredibly large rubies were inset.

  “It must be heavy to wear,” I said idiotically.

  Professor Summer solemnly considered the holograph image. “I imagine the responsibility it symbolizes is even heavier.” He swiped a finger across the command panel and the hologram vanished. “Nonetheless, the crown is a vital part of Meitj cultural identity. It is not just the Emperor who serves it, but all of us.”

  Internally, I cringed for Ivan’s crude, careless ambition in attempting to steal a people’s treasure. But Vulf and I were here to learn why Ivan could be so tempted. If it was wealth he wanted, well, the shameful truth was that shamans could manipulate events to accrue wealth. A change in sha energy patterns could alter shipping speeds or weather, and hence, crops. It could hold a starship to ransom or simply pickpocket valuables at a distance, untraceably. Or rather, untraceably to anyone not a shaman.

  Why did Ivan want the Meitj Imperial Crown?

  “Are there any myths concerning the crown?” Vulf asked. “Earth used to have legends that if particular talismans were lost, a civilization would fall.”

  “Ah.” Professor Summer tapped his middle claws together. “Interesting. You believe Ivan Mishkin may have a purpose beyond the glory of stealing an impossible-to-steal object. Perhaps he does. Shamans are mysterious creatures.”

  Vulf didn’t as much as glance in my direction. “Very true.”

  “Do you know, before humanity reached space and made contact with the rest of us, my people visited Earth?” Professor Summer smiled. “We were the ‘insectoid aliens’ of your UFO hysteria stories. Ah, that was not news to you, Ms. Romanov.”

  Apparently, the elderly Meitj was skilled at reading human facial expressions and body language.

  “Jaya, please.”

  “Jaya.” He nodded. “Perhaps you were taught this information at school?”

  “Yes.” For some reason, the back of my neck tingled in an atavistic response to danger.

  Vulf intervened. “So the Meitj were assessing humanity for entrance to the Galaxy Proper before our ancestors even knew it existed.”

  Professor Summer’s claws tapped again. “Among other things.” He pushed back his chair. “Now, you wanted to know if there were any myths attached to the Imperial Crown. Sadly, my answer is no. Myths are fictional things.”

  Vulf studied his old family friend. “Should I have asked for the Imperial Crown’s true history?”

  “Shrewd, my boy. Who says you can’t follow a clue when it hits you on the nose?”

  Vulf snorted.

  “However, I have said all that I can say.” Professor Summer included me in his pay-attention frown. “Some histories are secret to their species.” He stood. Our meeting was concluded. “I am honored to have met you, Jaya.”

  I froze momentarily as I guessed, that he’d guessed the existence of the mating heat between Vulf and me, and that as a family friend, he approved. I wasn’t sure how to respond.

  But then, the professor continued, and his quiet words changed everything. “Shamans are so rare.”

  “How do you know I’m a shaman?” My brain scrambled to catch up. “Do you have face recognition technology? A data implant?” It was a rude question. You didn’t ask people about their augments. “Sorry. You surprised me.”

  “And me,” Vulf added. “Professor?”

  “A little known fact about my species.” The elderly Meitj ushered us to the door of his office. “When we explored Earth, we weren’t wandering aimlessly. We can’t detect sha energy or influence it, but we can sense when a shaman has used sha energy within the last five days. That—for lack of a better word—scent clings to you, Jaya. Vulf, your friend is a powerful ally.” He began to close the door between us. “Do invite me to your commitment ceremony.” The door sealed.

  Vulf and I stared at each other, then he muttered. “Not here.”

  Reminded that on Origin we were likely under automatic surveillance, I closed my mouth. Professor Summer seemed the kind of person to have ensured his own office was a safe place to talk. Out in the corridor, we needed to be careful.

  Vulf and I sped back to the Orion, all thoughts of an evening planetside and a restaurant meal forgotten.

  Crossing quickly through the decontamination unit, I skirted around a wheeled robot bringing in a crate of perishable food. A head of celery poked out. I assumed that Vulf had a standing order with Ahab to stock up on items such as fresh fruit and vegetables, dairy products and bread when the Orion docked at suitable planets. Even with my mind spinning with all that Professor Summer had implied, I made a mental note to make a salad for dinner. Vulf could add whatever he wanted to the meal—steak, baked potatoes, whatever. I wanted salad. It’s amazing how in times of stress, humans fixate on the small things.

  “Why did Professor Summer mention a commitment ceremony?” I asked Vulf as we entered the recreation cabin.

  He glowered at me, surprisingly expressive without saying anything.

  I, on the other hand, had plenty to say. Nervous energy bubbled into speech. “The professor couldn’t know about the mating heat between us! Unless somehow Meitj can sense that as well as sha.” I was prickly and defensive, rattled.

  Vulf kept glowering. I wasn’t the only one unsettled and frustrated. “Professor Summer met my grandparents five decades ago. He has known me all my life. He read my body language.”

  Somehow, I couldn’t resist poking at a subject too volatile for either of us to handle with any degree of finesse. “And what did your body language say?”

  He crowded in close, backing me against the door to the bridge. “Read it for yourself.” He pressed in, bending at the knees and dipping his head so that he could nip my throat.

  I squeaked and growled in a combined sound of shocked desire. My arms had a will of their own and wrapped around his neck. His head came up and he claimed my mouth. His teeth scraped my lower lip.

  When the kiss ended, we were both panting.

  “Professor Summer saw that I couldn’t take my eyes off you for longer than a few seconds, couldn’t let you further than an arm’s length away, that my whole body was tense to either fight or—” He broke off. “I’ll settle and be able to think if I can hold you.”

  “Are you that on edge?”

  He rubbed his face against my hair. “Yes. I’m primed for violence, possessive of you without being able to possess you, to claim you as mine. The wolf in me, he can’t come out, I can’t shift, but he wants his mate.”

  “And the mating heat says that could be me.” I hadn’t considered that his wolf might be trying to claim me, too. Shifters might have lost the ability to shift form since evacuating Earth, but their primal spirit remained locked deep in them. When I stared into the icy blue of his eyes, his wolf stared back, fierce and proud and achingly lonely. “I see you,” I whispered to him.

  Vulf kissed me crushingly.
>
  I tilted my hips to the grinding press of his. I had to make a choice soon. Physically, we were both on the edge of coming. But if I said yes, I suspected I’d be giving more than my body.

  Vulf called to my spirit. Yet the Academy sought to claim my future and establish me as a Shaman Justice, a woman set apart. Duty, and the obligations that came with the sort of power I controlled, would define my life. In two years, my seven years of liberty ended.

  Part of me wanted to greedily snatch at every experience I could. But the wiser part warned me to think clearly because what I chose would have consequences for more than me.

  “Vulf?” I needed his help.

  The muscles of his back and shoulders bunched under my hands. “One minute.” He buried his face against my throat. His breath was hot. Finally, he eased away. “I need you close, though. I can’t let you go. Not completely. Not yet.”

  “All right. Okay. Vulf!”

  He scooped me up, and carried me to the recliner, sitting with me on his lap. His arousal was obvious, but we both ignored it. He arranged me carefully.

  For a few minutes, we both simply sat and watched the busy activity of the mercantile space dock through the one-way glass of the viewscreen.

  The mating heat settled to a smolder. I breathed in deeply, drawing Vulf’s unique scent into my lungs. Sha energy flowed around and through us. One thread looped and returned and looped again as if it was threaded through a giant invisible needle that was being wielded to stitch us together. Being stabbed by it was pleasant, as if that part of my spirit sunk into Vulf’s.

  In a sense it was more dangerous than the volatility of the mating heat. Allowing sha to play with us this way nudged and shuffled us toward commitment. The question was whether that commitment would survive the reality of our different lives or if it would tear us up. I realized that I owed Vulf a warning. “The sha is stitching us together.”

  He rearranged us so that he could see my eyes. “How?”