Her Robot Wolf: Gift of Gaia

by Jenny Schwartz

  Vulf drank coffee and watched me analyze the sha crystal.

  “Before Ivan stole it, the crystal simply stored sha energy. The patterns within it were simple and organic. They swirled like steam in a shower cubicle.” I rolled the crystal between my palms, feeling the heat and cool of it as spikes against my skin. “Ivan has changed that. He’s also depleted much of the energy I’d captured. Five years of sha collecting, gone. But you shifted into a robot wolf, so my goal was achieved despite everything. Although I never expected that you’d shift into an inorganic form.”

  “I have some ideas about that,” Vulf said. “But they’ll wait.”

  The sha crystal and deactivating the wraiths on Shaidoc was our urgent priority.

  I smoothed my thumb over the crystal as I’d done for five years. The action was familiar, but the jagged pattern of sha within the crystal wasn’t. “I was really afraid that Ivan made the wraiths irreversible,” I said. “That the crystal could trigger them into full-size, but not reduce or dissipate them.”

  “But you can?” Ahab wanted my verbal confirmation.

  “I can feel the wraiths through the crystal,” I said. “There are seven of them. Seven constructs of sha energy that feel like needles. All of them point toward Shaidoc, a very long way away.” I put the crystal on the table and rubbed my palms along my utility trousers. “One of the theoretical shamanic physicists at the Academy believes that sha energy has other aspects to it as it acts in more dimensions than humans or other sentient species can perceive.”

  I was thinking aloud. Neither Vulf nor Ahab were experts in shamanic talent, but I hoped that if I said something incredibly silly in my analysis, then hearing it with my own ears would alert me and I could correct it.

  “If sha energy acts in other, undetected dimensions, those dimensions collapse time and space as we perceive it.” The longer that I stared at the crystal, the more clearly I saw the seven needles directed toward Shaidoc and the wraiths. “Which means that for the sha energy patterns, the wraiths on Shaidoc are potentially as close as you and I.” I looked at Vulf across the table. “I think Ivan pulsed sha energy through the seven needles he constructed within the crystal, and those needles fed the wraiths the energy required for them to grow full-size, and now threaten the Meitj system with a black hole. If I can reverse those needles, I’ll pull the sha that powers the wraiths back to me, and the wraiths will collapse. The challenge will be to control the sha energy that returns. I doubt the crystal will be able to contain it.”

  “But you originally collected the sha energy in the crystal,” Vulf said, following my reasoning intently.

  “Yes.” My mouth had dried with fear, and I drank some tepid coffee. “The difference is that when I harvest sha energy from sha pools scattered through space, the sha is limpid. It’s placid. The energy flows easily into the patterns of storage within the crystal. But the energy returning from the wraiths will be violent, and recreating the patterns of storage within the crystal risks destroying the seven needles that are my only link to the wraiths.”

  Vulf’s icy blue eyes burned with frustration. This was a fight he couldn’t fight with me. “How great is the risk to you?”

  “Not enough to weigh against the certain destruction of the Meitj.”

  He stood and paced. “If we woke Ivan, there’s no guarantee he’d cooperate.”

  “There’s a greater chance he’d hasten the Meitj’s destruction.” The words hurt, but I got them out.

  Vulf clasped my shoulders. His thumbs dug into the top of my spine, massaging the tension that had gathered at the nape of my neck. “You can do this. Your Academy believes you’ll be the next Shaman Justice.”

  “Huh,” I blew out a breath. “Imagine, excitement like this could be my life every week.”

  He chuckled, bent and kissed me. “Sounds like you might need a unique shifter bodyguard.”

  Despite everything, I smiled. “You know, the Academy and the Galactic Court might just accept that reasoning.”

  “Save the Meitj and it’s a hundred percent certain they’ll let you have Vulf and anything else you want,” Ahab said.

  “Now, that’s what I call an incentive,” I joked. But there was an element of truth there. I much preferred a positive incentive to the threat Ivan had created.

  Vulf sat on the table. He’d put on his boots and they rested on the bench beside me.

  I put a hand on his knee. “I’m going to try this.” I’d dissipated the replica of a wormhole that I’d spun earlier while fighting Ivan. For channeling the sha energy that a successful deactivation of the wraiths on Shaidoc would send my way, I needed a construct even more robust.

  The best way to contain a violent explosion of sha was to send it through a flexible mesh of patterns. It was a strategy trained into young shamans before we attempted any major shaping. I constructed a frayed lotus pattern that would keep much of the returning sha, but allow enough of it to escape in random bursts that the lotus wasn’t overwhelmed. Later I could either dismantle the lotus pattern, or leave it as a springboard. Any sha energy sent against it would be boosted until the lotus dissolved from use.

  “Okay. I’m ready to try this.” Frayed lotus pattern in place safely beyond the Orion and Ivan’s abandoned kite, I kept my hand on Vulf’s knee for luck and reassurance. With my free hand, I gripped the sha crystal.

  I had two options. I could test my theory by reversing one needle first. But that felt wrong. On Earth, when I broke the shield trap Ivan had held me in, the resulting backlash of sha would have triggered the wraiths as one. I needed to deactivate them in similar simultaneous fashion.

  Oddly enough, it was something Ivan had once said to me that swam up from my subconscious to give me the push I needed. With sha, we’ve only discovered one percent of its possibilities. Don’t limit yourself to what the Academy taught you. Reach beyond it.

  Sitting on the Orion, anchored by Vulf’s strong presence, I reached into the sha crystal and through the seven sha needles to the wraiths on Shaidoc. I touched their tightly layered, whirling constructs of sha energy, and I pulled.

  Forget the distance. Distance was an illusion of the dimensions I perceived. The sha energy was as near to me as the sha crystal key that I held. I siphoned the sha energy from the wraiths and flung it into the frayed lotus pattern.

  I set my jaw as sha energy thundered in the atmosphere. I would have to ask Vulf what it felt like to him. His thigh had gone rigid under my hand. For non-shamans, I guessed that this felt like living in a nightmare of clamoring death.

  The first wraith collapsed, gone as if it had never been created. I’d expected them to all either defy my control of their sha energy, or collapse together. The loss of one wraith rattled my focus. Hastily, I released my concentration on its corresponding sha needle in the crystal. Two more wraiths collapse. I released two more needles.

  The wraiths had been triggered at the same time, but Ivan had constructed each one separately. That explained why they disintegrated at different rates. Some were more robust than others. I had to hold on till they were all gone. Even one wraith could suck in enough energy to become a black hole. It would just take more time than a combination of multiple wraiths. Still, I couldn’t risk the chance that any wraiths I left in existence would also defeat unravelling by other shamans.

  Heck, the truth was I’m a perfectionist and a control freak; something that I keep under wraps in all things except my sha workings. I hated to leave a job half-done.

  One by one the remaining four wraiths winked out of existence. I released the last sha needle in the crystal and smudged all the sha patterns within it. No one would be able to replicate what Ivan had done.

  My fingers relaxed and the crystal hit the table, ringing sharply.

  At a distance from the Orion, the frayed lotus pattern pulsed with power.

  “It’s done.” My voice was scratchy. “I think it worked. The wraiths are gone.”

  “Open your eyes, stargirl.” Vulf w
as suddenly beside me, cuddling me into his chest.

  “Huh. I didn’t know my eyes were shut.” I’d been concentrating on my sha senses. I forced my eyes open and saw his throat.

  He was straddling the bench, trying to hold me. It was awkward, and he must have thought the same since he moved abruptly, lifting my not insubstantial weight. “You need to sleep.”

  “No.” It was a short syllable, but I managed to slur it.

  He stood with me in his arms.

  I made a valiant effort at words. “Message to Meitj. Need confirm…wraiths gone.”

  “I’ll send a message,” he promised.

  My eyes closed. “Wake me.”

  “When they answer. If I can wake you. You’re beat.”

  Maybe he kept talking, but I didn’t hear anything more.

  Vulf woke me three hours later. Our proximity to a relay station had helped speed the transmission time.

  I was lying in my bed in the guest cabin, fully clothed but for my boots. A light blanket covered me. I stared at him in the dim lighting, willing him to be bringing good news.

  “The wraiths are gone. The Meitj solar system is safe.”

  “Whew. I’d have hated to be the granddaughter of a civilization-murderer.” The humor failed to hide how much I meant the sentiment.

  Vulf dropped onto the bed, by my hip. “I still have to bring Ivan in. It’s not about the bounty.”

  “I know.” I scrambled up and across the bed till I could lift his arm and wrap it around me. “Ivan can’t be allowed to attempt what he did, again. Will they…you said once that the Meitj don’t believe in capital punishment.”

  “Ivan’s terrorism may have changed their mind,” Vulf said gently.

  I bit my lip. “They could keep him imprisoned with a disrupter on. He’s an old man. Maybe…”

  “Maybe.” He wouldn’t offer any unrealistic promises, but he didn’t squash my hope.

  We sat there in silence in the small cabin. It was an impersonal space, clean and tidy, barely dented by my transient presence. Except, I wasn’t transient. Or perhaps I was? I sighed and hugged his arm. The mystery of how Vulf and I would make our relationship work was a problem for another time. I’d never been in a long-term relationship before. What were the rules? How could I co-ordinate my shaman voyage contracts to maximize time with Vulf?

  “Do you need to eat or to sleep some more? I’ve never seen a shaman hit their limits before.”

  “I’m good.” I patted his chest, then straightened from slumping against him. The Academy, and Matron in particular, had taught us how to treat ourselves when we over-extended our shamanic talents. “I should eat, though. Salad.”

  He stood and extended a hand to pull me up. “Do shamans need fresh vegetables?”

  I smiled at the serious expression on his face. “No more than anyone else. I’ve been promising myself a salad since I saw the vegetables come aboard on Origin.”

  “Then we’ll get you that salad.”

  In the recreation cabin, Ahab circumvented the food dispenser and presented me with the whole vegetables that I wanted. I then chopped and tossed them. Lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes, celery, and olives went into a bowl and I chose a tangy vinaigrette to pour over them.

  Vulf accepted a small serving, and there was satisfaction in feeding him. It helped to push back the shadow knowledge that on the other side of the wall Ivan was lying, an unconscious prisoner bound for an unknown fate; one that he’d earned.

  “I’d like to watch a movie,” I said. “One light and funny. Do you have—”

  “Artificially in Love,” Ahab said.

  Vulf grinned as he took my empty salad bowl. “It’s his favorite movie.”

  Embarrassment shaded Ahab’s defense. “It’s a good movie.”

  “I haven’t seen it.” I didn’t mind what we watched. I just wanted a distraction. “Is that the one where the female android’s creator falls in love with her, and the twist at the end is that he’s also an android, but a starship rather than a humanoid robot? Oh! That’s why you like it, Ahab! You’re a romantic.”

  “I have no wish to fall in love, myself,” Ahab said primly. “But I enjoy the fantasy of artificial intelligences behaving irrationally.”

  “Which is his definition of love.” Vulf put two cups of herbal tea on the coffee table and slanted me a wry smile, before returning to the food dispenser.

  I turned around on the sofa to see what he was up to. “Popcorn!”

  “What’s a movie without it?”

  The movie was lightweight entertainment and I fell asleep halfway through the female android’s adventures as she tried to discover her creator’s true identity. I kind of woke up as the music for the closing credits swelled, but I was too warm, snug and safe to struggle toward full consciousness. I lay tucked against Vulf and it was a good place to be. He kept the nightmares and regrets of the day away.

  Unfortunately, in the morning, I woke up alone in the guest cabin. I stared at the ceiling as the events of the previous day played through my mind. There were good bits, like Vulf shifting into a wolf, even if it was a robot version, and the fact that we were headed into a relationship that promised me more than I’d dreamed of. But there were bad bits, too. And I feared that the bad could destroy the good. Vulf and I had saved the Meitj system from annihilation via a black hole, but it was my grandfather who’d threatened it, and who was now imprisoned in the Orion, on the way to who knew what fate.

  Then, again, no one but Vulf and Daisy—and Ivan himself—knew that he was my grandfather. Could I, should I, keep the relationship a secret?

  I tried to shower away the heavy weight of misery and dread.

  Outside my cabin, Ahab offered me a cheerful “good morning” and informed me that the Captain was on the bridge.

  I grabbed two mugs of coffee and joined Vulf there.

  “Good morning.” He ignored the coffee in favor of kissing me, first. When he drew back, the concern in his eyes had deepened.

  “I’m sorry,” I said awkwardly. “I keep thinking about Ivan. About what he did, and what he’ll face.”

  Vulf nodded, but I wondered if he really understood my confused emotions. If he did, perhaps he could explain them to me?

  I sipped some coffee.

  “Ahab and I are plotting a course to Naidoc,” Vulf said.

  I blinked, and belatedly focused on the screen display in front of me. “I thought we’d be delivering Ivan to Origin.” The center for galactic government. It was a significantly shorter journey from where we were.

  “The Meitj Emperor requested we travel directly to the Imperial Palace on Naidoc. The chancellor of the Star Guild Shaman Academy will meet us there, as will Professor Summer. I received a separate communication from him thanking us for saving his people and…”

  I glanced away from the star map to Vulf. “And?” Apprehension mugged me. Vulf hesitating was ominous.

  “Professor Summer recommends that you be present at Ivan’s trial.”

  “So he will get a trial,” I said in relief. But the relief was only momentary. A trial delayed a summary execution, but capital punishment or some other ordeal remained all but guaranteed. One way or another, Ivan would be punished, and I’d be there to hear the judgement. There was no chance he’d be found anything other than guilty.

  Slowly the implications of that sunk in. There would be a trial, despite Ivan’s obvious guilt, and an eminent and apparently influential senior Meitj, Professor Summer, expected me to be there for it. “Why does Professor Summer recommend I attend Ivan’s trial? Will it be public or secret?”

  “Secret,” Vulf said, answering the easiest question first.

  “And I’m invited, not summoned.” I tried to puzzle it out. “The Meitj could compel us to testify.”

  “Perhaps they will when we arrive on Naidoc.”

  I drank the last of my coffee quickly. “I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.” I wasn’t referring to the coffee. I concentra
ted on the star map. “If we take this route, I’ll jump us through the wormhole—”

  “No.” Vulf’s refusal was definite.

  “Do you want to waste time?” I asked him snippily. I needed a distraction. There were too many regrets and unanswered questions swimming in my head. Too much unknown in what I faced—Ivan faced—on Naidoc.

  “You are not using sha energy until you’re recovered.”

  “I’m fine.” I waved aside his concern.

  Vulf proved immovable. “If you’re looking less like a ghost tomorrow, then I’ll consider re-routing the Orion. The Meitj can wait an extra couple of days.”

  I’d already done a rough calculation. Even with me guiding the Orion through the three possible wormholes, we had at least five days travel ahead of us; and that was factoring in the extra speed of the Orion’s exceptional mLa’an design. The medbot could safely keep Ivan sedated for double that length of time, but my nerves wouldn’t handle the delay.

  “Rest.” Vulf took my coffee mug from me. “Get some breakfast, lounge around. Recover.” He grabbed my shoulders and marched me to the recreation cabin, pushing me to sit.

  I caught his arm as he put a bowl of cereal in front of me at the table. “How come I can barely feel the mating heat between us?”

  “I shut it down,” Vulf said.

  I dropped the spoon into the bowl, splashing reconstituted milk. “You don’t want me!”

  “I want you.”

  A hint of the familiar burn of desire rolled through me. It reassured me.

  Vulf curled his hands into fists and the burn faded, reluctantly. “I told you once that the mating heat was a choice. That means more than whether we choose to bond as mates.” He stroked my face, a reminder that we had chosen each other, even if we hadn’t acted on our decision. “It means embracing it or dousing it. The heat is still there. I believe it always will be, with you. But for now…” He paused, thumb stroking my bottom lip. “Am I being selfish, Jaya? I’d like our first time together to be a celebration, not simply an escape for you. But if you’d like the comfort of it, you only ever have to ask me.”