Living With Syn

by A. C. Katt

  Before Anya could answer, Naffie espied her bonded from the corner of his eye. “You better put me down. Your Warriors are fierce and look worried about their fem and their future fempring.”

  “Femspring?”

  “Yes.”

  “The word is psychologist. Jonal and Tonas will be pleased.”

  Nafer’s feet touched the ground. ::You can call me Naffie.::

  Naffie shook his head. ::”Psychologist” isn’t the right word. I don’t know if the word exists yet in either language. It’s an “almost.”::

  Tigger chose that moment to make his presence felt and jumped from his place next to Anya into Nafer’s arms, his claws digging slightly into the shoulder pads of the child’s leather vest to provide purchase. Nafer wrapped him in his small arms and put his nose in his coat. Tigger purred loudly. Anya looked down to Naffie and her cat and wondered. Could Tigger speak to the little boy?

  ::Of course he can. Oops, I forgot the dirt.:: With a leap that almost knocked Naffie over, Tigger took off across the field a mot before Anya heard a scream from the processing line. She watched in horror as Syn Sinclair fell to the ground. Tigger ran toward Syn and Naffie followed right behind him. Worried about the child getting lost in the crowd, Anya took up the chase.

  Anya couldn’t run as swiftly as Nafer who, despite his shorter legs, sprinted like a cheetah. She reached the fallen Syn after the child had thrown himself on her, crying aloud and trying to drag her away from the line. Tigger and Duchess attempting to help him.

  She felt deep fear and loss projected from Nafer and the anxiety of the cats purring to calm him. Anya got hold of herself and snapped at the other women who had simply stepped away when Syn fell. “Give me space to work; or I swear I will set the admirals down on all of you.”

  Several women immediately offered to help.

  “Just clear the area.” Anna knelt and checked Syn’s pulse.

  “Syn, can you open your eyes, it’s Anya.”

  “Anya, clear the area, there is something wrong here— Smoke, from the line in the dirt. Fuck, my head hurts!”

  Anya watched Jonal and Tonas followed the boy along with the cats and the Elders.

  Her pulse was a bit rapid, but slowed as Syn opened her eyes. Nafer already cradled Syn’s head in his lap, his trembling hands awkwardly soothing her brow. “It’s all right now, Mommie. Poppy, Zadda, and I are here, that fem won’t be mean anymore, I promise. Everything will be all right. Don’t leave me, Mommie.”

  Still in physician mode, attempting to soothe both the child and her patient, Anya looked up to see who blocked her light. She didn’t run alone, her anxious BondMates stood behind her.

  ::Look at the line in the dirt! Something is wrong!:: Syn blasted out to anyone who could hear her, then fainted for the second time.

  Anya looked up and surveyed the land around them. Syn was right. Something was wrong with the dirt.

  She sent out the second psychic scream.

  * * * *

  Chapter 2

  “I have learned to hate all traitors,

  and there is no disease that I spit upon more.”

  —Aeschylus

  Anya heard Jonal and Tonas send out a coded signal and with the precision of a military drill the Warriors ran and evacuated the fem who were still in line from the area.

  TeZaron and TeBron arrived and grabbed the still groggy Syn, motioning for Naffie, Anya, and the cats to follow. As they ran a wall of fire burst out of the ground.

  The Warriors avoided chaos by shepherding the women into a huge hangar, the empaths among them sending waves of calm.

  Anya looked around. Five seconds ago she was at the field. Now she, Syn, the cats, the boy, and the Elders inhabited a small comfortable room and she didn’t know how she arrived. Before she had time to get her bearings, Jonal and Tonas appeared as if out of nowhere.

  “Report,” said TeZaron.

  “Liquid fire, sir, the blaze will burn itself out in a tine. If it hadn’t been for Fem Sinclair’s warning, all the fem would have perished in the flames.”

  “Fem Sinclair is our bonded. Teleport over to the alternate processing area and make sure the Warriors have things under control.”

  “Teleport?” chorused Anya and Syn.

  * * * *

  The admirals met Juraens and Mark at the inside processing station.

  “What was that?” asked Mark.

  Jonal answered. “Exactly what it looked like—an attack on the fem.”

  “Is everything under control?” Tonas asked. “Has the building been searched and secured?”

  “I used only the crew of Brightstar to organize the fem and search the hall,” Juraens said, face grim.

  “I will alert the Elders that it is safe for their fem to be processed,” Mark added.

  “She should be processed first. Syn Sinclair saved all of their asses today.”

  * * * *

  Moments later the Elders arrived with Syn, Anya, and the cats. Anya went to stand beside Syn, who sat in a chair at the head of the line, Nafer still clutching her hand.

  “Nafer, would you mind if I checked your Mommie’s head to see if she is hurt?”

  “It’s not outside, it’s inside. I made her sick when I mind-spoke. I should have let Poppie or Zadda speak to her first.” Guilty golden eyes looked into light blue ones.

  “Do you think I made her fall?” he asked with trepidation.

  “No, the fire made her fall. You probably just shocked her with your mind speech. Sarran Warriors, even little ones like you, seem to favor grand entrances.” Anya ran her hands through Syn’s hair and examined her neck. “No bumps or lumps, young man.”

  * * * *

  “Good to know.” Syn opened her eyes languidly, taking a moment to re-orient herself. She closed them immediately. Her head felt as if someone split it from her shoulders with a pickaxe. A rather anxious young boy stood beside her with his hand encircling hers. A name flashed across her brain.

  ::You must be Naffie. Oh shit, I used mind speech.::

  “Yes, I am Naffie and yes you used mind speech. My fault…you are my new Mommie. What was that burning stick? Did it hurt you? Was that why the fire started? Don’t worry my—what’s that word—oh yes, the Daddies are here. Don’t be afraid. Poppie didn’t know you at first, that’s because he needed Zadda to see you, but I didn’t. I heard you from across the stars. You spoke to me but you didn’t believe I was real. Your barriers were strong because they are flexible, if I poked, they gave but did not open. When we arrived I thought to use a pin. I poked and it popped. I think I broke it.” Naffie was babbling.

  Syn attempted to lift her head.

  “I scared you, I think. Do you hurt?”

  “No,” she fibbed, “I’m just a bit shell shocked.”

  “Shell shocked?”

  Syn answered his question with her eyes still closed, her eyelashes fluttering along the top of her cheekbone. The bright lights sent thunderbolts straight to her head. Her brain processed the mother of all migraines. She squinted and tried to peer at the child with one violet eye. “That means I am a bit overset by all of the drama…Er…who are your Daddies?” She put her hand up to her head. The boy grabbed her hand, and placed it at her side. He continued to stroke her brow. The pain receded a bit.

  She winced, suddenly her head exploded with voices. Unfortunately, as usual, Madeline Dixon-Howard’s projected more than the others.

  “Look at that slut, drawing attention to herself again…”

  Her head started to pound again ferociously, like someone was repeatedly hitting her with a large hammer.

  Syn felt the lightest kiss on her cheek. She watched as Nafer turned his face politely to Anya. “Princess Anya,” he said formally, “would you take care of my Mommie for a mot?”

  “Of course, Nafer.”

  Syn attempted to get up. Instinctively, she knew she should stop the boy. Her rather lame attempt at mobility failed and Anya caught her and pushed her back int
o the chair before she hit the ground for the third time. She saw Nafer walk back to Madeline Dixon-Howard and kick her in the shin. Syn’s eyes widened in shock.

  “You shut up and stop hurting my Mommie now, she saved your life!” he said loudly as he turned on his heel and walked back over to Syn and Anya.

  Syn saw Anya suppress a giggle. ::Efficient,:: Anya shot to her friend, ::…wish I thought of it first.::

  Syn shook her head, “It might make it worse. I don’t want to bring this type of notoriety on a child.”

  “Don’t worry; they grow these Sarran strong, compassionate, and best of all, willing to do anything for their fem.”

  Miraculously, her headache began to recede.

  Nafer returned and took his place beside Syn. Madeline Dixon-Howard, being largely ignored, shouted at whoever would listen about undisciplined children sired by obvious lowlifes. Nafer resumed his mental connection with Syn without missing a beat. She felt the mental click in her head.

  ::Naffie…::

  ::Yes, Mommie,:: he answered a bit shyly.

  ::You shouldn’t do that to Maddy.:: Syn tried to be stern but didn’t know if that projected in mind speech.

  ::But, Mommie, she’s evil.:: The childish face set into a sulk. ::Her aura is black and spitting. Foul.::

  Syn managed to hold her head up with one hand.

  “She’s not evil, Naffie, just misinformed and troubled. If I’m going to be your Mommie, you must go over to Maddy with one of your Daddies and apologize. You don’t want to embarrass your Daddies or me by behaving like a bully.”

  “She’s the bully! I need to say I’m sorry? Why am I sorry? She hurt you. She should be sorry.” Syn grabbed at her neck to ease the ache that returned as soon as Maddy looked her way.

  “You are sorry because boys, even little ones, don’t hurt girls.”

  Duchess sat and watched the proceedings quietly. After accessing the situation, she daintily rose and exited her basket, left Tigger standing guard, and headed over to her charge.

  Golden eyes watched as Duchess jumped up and padded around Syn, tapping her with a paw, obviously making her own cursory examination of her human companion.

  Nafer attempted to change the subject. “That’s Duchess, you eat cookies and milk with her on your lap and watch a tube. What’s a tube, Mommie?”

  “You are changing the subject, Naffie. Find one or both of your Daddies and after you apologize, I’ll tell you about the tube, and cookies.”

  A deep voice Syn didn’t recognize said, “Nafer, Fem Sinclair probably has a nasty headache. Why don’t you go stand by the Princess Anya and let Poppie and I take care of her.

  Nafer looked at his Zadda. “Why didn’t you come right away? Mommie hurts.”

  Bron gave his offspring a grave look. “I did, but unfortunately, I needed to calm down a very angry fem with a bruise on her shinbone who demanded that my offspring be spanked.” Amused violet eyes looked into golden ones. “She called me a low-life, fit only to scrape pond scum off her shoe. Garlance turned apocalyptic.”

  “She deserved it,” Nafer said with determination.

  “Probably, but we don’t hurt our fem on Sarran.”

  “She’s not a fem. Mommie thinks she’s a bitch.”

  “Define bitch…” Bron asked, exasperation evident in his voice.

  “Female dog.”

  “Dog?”

  “Ask Mommie…”

  Syn listened to the conversation with amusement.

  “I’m sure I heard Mommie say something about an apology.”

  “She said you’d go with me,” he said, clearly bargaining.

  ‘‘Zadda will go with you. In the meantime, I’ll take care of Mommie,’’ TeZaron said as he stepped out from behind TeBron. “I don’t think our Mommie will be happy until you do as she asks, cub.”

  “I don’t want to…”

  Zaron raised his eyebrow. Mobile eyebrows seemed to be a talent of the Sarran male.

  “But I’ll go because Mommie asked me to. She doesn’t want to be shamed by my bad behavior.” Naffie conveyed his disgust of the errand with his stiff body and his sulky tone.

  * * * *

  TeBron rolled his eyes at TeZaron. ::Yes something definitely needs to be done about Naffie.::

  Zaron stepped out of the direct sunlight and came over to his fem. She was still struggling to sit up on the chair. Dumbstruck, he wondered, ::Why didn’t I connect with this stunning fem on board? Laptard’s piss, the mind block, the song that buzzed in my head…You’re right Bron, we’ve been BondStruck!::

  ::I gathered that on the trip to the spaceport when our offspring kept peppering his mind speech with unfamiliar words and concepts. The word ‘Mommie’ loomed ominously with portent. I’ll take care of our fem’s request of her new offspring, Dragon. She might be more comfortable if you speak to her and explain what happened. At least she has seen you before.::

  While his Dearest escorted Nafer back over to Fem Dixon-Howard, Zaron walked the short distance to Jonal, Tonas, and Anya.

  “Admirals, princess.” Zaron directed his attention to Anya. “Thank you for your care of Fem Sinclair. As you undoubtedly realize, she is our bonded.” Syn looked up, “Oh my God, it’s you!”

  He reached down and effortlessly picked her up out of the chair, cradling her into his chest. ::Yes, it’s me. I didn’t recognize you on board for reasons Bron and I will explain later. But you are our bonded and beloved.::

  His blue eyes warmed to the blue of the Caribbean Sea.

  ::Oh my God…this feeling was what Anya described…BondStired—to an Elder. Shit! Maddy will be calling for my crucifixion.::

  “Maddy will have nothing to say or I’ll send Nafer back after her.” TeZaron chuckled as he kissed Syn’s platinum hair.

  “Let me introduce myself formally, I am TeZaron and our bonded is TeBron. You,” he ran a finger down her nose, “belong with us.”

  Anya glanced over at her men. Syn listened to her chuckle.

  “Do all of you produce that effect on women? I distinctly remember fainting when I first saw you two gorillas standing over my bed.”

  “Define gorilla.”

  “Large hairy apes—Here comes Mark and by the way, Nafer said we’re having a fempring.”

  That remark brought both Jonal and Tonas to their knees.

  * * * *

  Duchess padded back over to Tigger. ::These boys sure do know how to make an entrance. Your two look like a wrecking ball has hit them square in the balls and just the sight of mine sent my Syn back into the arms of Morpheus.::

  ::We live in interesting times,:: Tigger replied enigmatically.

  ::Don’t say that. It’s a Chinese curse—May you live in interesting times.::

  ::I know.::

  * * * *

  Dr. Mark Stern supervised the remainder of the off-loading of the wounded from the Brightstar. It would be his last official act in the capacity of Ship Surgeon and Security Officer. Mark imagined a greeting by hoards of hungry newshounds once he stepped planetside. As the only male Earthen to be BondStirred and mated to a Sarran Warrior, he braced himself to be on the cover of the Sarran equivalent of Star. Juraens had made his way back to the gangplank.

  ::Holos, you mean holos, Treasured.:: Mark’s bonded, Juraens, flowed into the river of his thoughts without causing a ripple.

  “Interesting…while we remained apart on board, I made a study of Earthen media. I’m afraid you are in for severe culture shock. Sarrans do not follow the cult of personality that has ensnared your Earth. The Sarran media will want to interview you as well as the princess and her cat, but the request will come ‘through channels,’ politely and you may just as politely say, ‘No, thank you.’”

  ::I sense a large “but” in that last thought, Beloved. So large I could drive a bus through it.::

  ::Bus?::

  Mark sent a quick picture.

  ::Ahh! Mass Ground Transport Vehicle…Treasured, the “but” is that the ElderCouncil will
not be politely put off. We are to report at ten tines next rising to council chambers to “discuss” the Earthen Mission.::

  ::Will the others be present?::

  ::Also required to bear witness will be Jonal, Tonas, TeZaron, TeBron, Princess Anya and the Beast, and Fem Sinclair and her Duchess as they will be bonded to the Elders this eve.::

  ::They’re taking a deposition from Tigger?:: Mark’s astonishment blew into Juraens mind, causing him to double over in laughter.

  ::Ah, my Treasured, he is sentient. You should lose your prejudice against the Beast’s intellect. After all, he saved the Brightstar.::

  ::Fuck.::

  * * * *

  “Where are you taking her? Anya shouted after TeBron as he mentally asked Nafer to hold onto his belt.

  “Home,” he answered succinctly as he turned to face Jonal and Tonas.

  “Admirals, would you do us the honor of sharing moontine with us at Castle Air. Shall we say at nineteen tines? Please extend the invitation to Dr. Stern and Duke Juraens. Princess Anya, if you will, bring the Beast. There is much that necessitates discussion prior to council.”

  Bron followed Zaron to the largest structure on the field.

  “Zadda, we have to go back.” Nafer wiggled in Bron’s arms. “We forgot Duchess.”

  Bron turned around and found the small, white beauty dragging a pillow-lined basket with a pink bow. Bron picked up the basket and the beauty with the silken coat leaped into Naffie’s arms.

  ::I don’t think Duchess’ personality lends itself to being forgotten.:: Then, with an audible laugh, he followed his Zaron and Syn to the private council area in the field house.

  Once inside the cavernous building, Bron settled both Naffie and Duchess on the highly polished floor just to the left of a pair of gleaming brass doors.

  ::Dragon, do we teleport?::

  ::Yes. With the both of us, plus Naffie and the little beauty, I think we can manage to get home without undue interest. We’ll use the teleport chamber in the small council waiting room; the larger one is set up for the debriefing.::

  Bron looked over to the brass doors. They opened silently. ::Thus the moontine meeting—::