Tshentso slid her hands into the sleeves of her yellow brocade robe. “I’m afraid so. He must be stopped.”
“But another will just fill his place?” Mae reasoned.
“He has seven sons. Our intelligence suggests he has been vain and failed to clearly nominate a successor. It would normally go to his oldest son but he is an imbecile and has become too reliant on opium. The next two in line are overly ambitious and competitive. If we kill the Khan now there will be a power struggle. This will weaken them. It is an opportunity too good to miss, but it will be very dangerous. You must be very careful.”
“Do daughters not matter?” Sun protested.
“No,” Tshentso replied.
“We will do it,” said Riko.
“Yes,” Mae affirmed.
“He must be stopped,” declared Sun.
Tshentso nodded. She had no doubt that they would agree. “The nano probes have sent back a detailed plan of the Khan’s residence. The AI has constructed a very detailed 3D simulation. He keeps regular hours and takes a nightly walk in the garden, sometimes alone. I will leave the final planning up to you. Do not rush your preparations. Be certain, but it would be best to strike soon. We will reveal ourselves to the population shortly. It would be ideal timing if he were dead by then, but not at risk to you.”
The girls nodded in unison.
“And what of his plan to attack to the east? Will they halt their plans?” asked Riko.
“I fear not, but let them come. I will let Torv deal with them.”
“If we do this before the revealing, can we attend?”
“Yes, of course. It would not be the same without you.” Tshentso leant forward and kissed each one. She understood the risk they faced. It could be the last time she would see them. She undid her robe and the girls smiled. No one knew that Tshentso had let them share her body. Their bodies immediately began to sing and vibrate with a glorious, uninhibited display of colour. There was no one like Tshentso. You could feel her soul blazing like a sun. Very few were allowed to see it. It was a privilege they would die a thousand times for.
It was a full moon and the spring heat had released the scent of jasmine and the first roses. The Khan was satisfied: a full belly, a successful raid to the north and a daughter born to his fifth wife, a daughter already promised to a tribal ally. He looked up at the moon. He had heard the stories that ancient men had once travelled there, but he did not believe it. This world was all there was. This moment was all there was. And he was master. He ordered the boy to load another pipe of hashish. He was voracious tonight and he roared just like the mythical lions of old. Perhaps he would have the boy now, here in the garden? He ordered the boy to his knees and began to lift his kaftan. The boy would know what to do.
He thought he saw a shimmer. A voice whispered, “the angels of death have come for you.”
He turned sharply but saw nothing. There was a rustle in a nearby bush. The boy was trembling.
“Who is there?” he demanded; “guards,” he yelled. He looked back at the house where two guards usually stood. They were not there.
There was a glow of light over his right shoulder. He turned and yelled in terror. She was hovering a metre off the ground, naked, her skin glowing, fangs descended. “I am a dakini. You were warned.”
He did not see the blade. It slashed across his chest.
“You have been judged,” said a voice over his left shoulder. He turned. She was glowing red and her eyes shone like devil’s eyes. Her blade slashed across his face and through his jaw. He tried to hit out but she had gone.
“Here I am.”
He turned again and there were three of them, changing colour, gnashing fangs. They began to circle him. He heard screams from the house. The women had gathered at the windows.
“Guards,” he attempted to yell at the top of his lungs but he could only manage a yelp.
The sword slashed at his left leg and removed it completely. He fell to the ground. Another slash removed his right arm. They did not kill him outright. They wanted him to be fully aware of his fate and to feel utterly powerless to stop it.
The boy was crouched low, his hands over his head. A voice whispered gently in his ear. “Now is the time for you to flee boy. They will not notice you are gone. Take your freedom. Tell people what you saw.”
There was a fierce yell of male voices. Guards were running toward them. The girls looked at each other, nodded and ran at the guards in return, ululating and howling. The guards fell quickly, each one killed instantly. There would be more. They waited as horrified women looked on. They wanted to be seen, wanted their sex to be noticed. Then, as more guards appeared, they leapt into the sky and were gone.
124
Torv
Torv had chosen a broad, flat plain on the outskirts of a village. They had made themselves known. At first the villagers were terrified at the sight of the fierce looking strangers with the alien eyes, but when Torv explained that they were dakinis sent by the Kumari, they believed they were demigods. They gave the villagers food and medicine and soon smiles began to appear and children dared to come up and touch them and to be greeted with sweets and kindness.
When the hour arrived Torv assembled a group of able-bodied adults on a hill overlooking the road. The raiders came into view over a small rise; a single column of horses marching down an open dirt road. Torv shook her head in disgust. They were arrogant, too used to victory. It had made them tactically lazy. She signalled the other defenders and they rose into the sky on their darts. She would have liked a horse charge, but they had guns and she couldn’t risk injury to her team or to the horses.
A raider saw them ascend and pointed into the sky. They hovered and waited. Their captain grabbed his ancient binoculars and searched the sky. At the same time the darts’ on-board sensors picked out the raiders from their mounts. Still they waited. The raiders and horses were becoming unsettled. Over the distance and the light breeze, Torv could hear commands being barked. They heard the crack of gunfire. The on-board systems told them that their aim was wide.
“Okay, enough pissing about, let’s do this.” She dropped her hand with the signal to charge. The darts flew high into the sky and then dived at the column. They spiralled down in a vortex pattern in the glare of the sun to confuse the raider’s aim. They opened fire. Their on-board sensors calculated the firing sequence. Its aim was faultless. The raiders started to drop to the ground as bullets exploded their skulls. A few panicked and started to run away. They were easy pickings.
The darts circled until they were sure they had killed every last one, then they returned to the hill where grateful villagers met them with cheers and hugs. They walked down to the road with the villagers and reigned in the horses, gathered all the useful food and goods and dragged the hated corpses into a pile for cremation. Torv looked through the commander’s belongings. She found a ring on his hand, ancient lapis lazuli and silver, and placed it on her own finger – as a trophy and a reminder.
That night they celebrated with the villagers and listened to their songs and were taught their dances. They smoked ganja and drank local beer and a couple of the braver youths began to flirt, the elders turning away from the breach of custom. After all, they were demigods and the villagers had heard many tales about the appetites of the local nature deities, the apsaras and yakshinis. This would be a night of exceptions – a return to the ancient ways. She caught the eye of a pretty girl of about sixteen, full breasted and narrow-hipped, her nose pierced and her hands covered in traditional henna patterns. The girl was confused at being approached by a female but her curiosity was greater. Torv called out to a male defender and waved him over. There was no reason the girl could not experience both for this one night.
The girl danced for them both: a vigorous twirling dance that caused her heavily bangled feet and arms to jangle and her skirt to swirl. As her confidence grew she stripped and showed them some of the more erotic moves. Torv marvelled at her skill and her
body, a body different to the Edenoi: shorter, more curvaceous, with thick, silken pubic and underarm hair and long, black head hair that swirled when she danced.
Torv understood that some of the girls might fall pregnant that night. Tshentso had permitted, even encouraged it. Interbreeding was known to be one of the major agents of cultural change. Perhaps the girls knew that a child born of a demigod would be blessed. Perhaps the elders allowed it because they understood it would cement a valuable alliance. Whatever the case, Tshentso had said any child conceived would be well looked after.
The girl was shy when Torv kissed her but her body responded instinctively. She smelled of sweat and patchouli. Perhaps the ancient legends had persisted. This region had once been a centre of tantra and ancient fertility religions. Perhaps these traditions had been handed down through the generations as whispered secrets, deep-seated cultural memes that were waiting to be rekindled. The girl soon lost all inhibition. She fell asleep wrapped in the arms of the male defender. Torv felt certain this one would become pregnant.
125
The Second
Freja was late, almost two weeks. She was usually regular, but somehow she knew. She had initially assumed the irregularity was due to the stress of her immanent departure. She had certainly been on an emotional roller coaster and had found it particularly hard to say goodbye to her parents. Yes, she knew that if everything went to plan she would be able to stay in contact and they would join the colony, perhaps on the third or fourth wave, but that was years away and at a time like this the person she most needed was her mom. But she also knew in her gut that there was a strong chance her parents might never make it to Eden. It was something they had all discussed. Her parents had commitments and loyalties on Earth. They had always said they would only migrate if they had tied up those commitments. She had cried and remonstrated but her mother had reminded her of the disruption of WW2 and the tens of thousands of European children sent away whilst their parents stayed behind to either fight or support the war effort. She accepted the argument. She knew the situation on Earth was analogous to the period leading up to the war. There had been millions of refugee children; it’s just that she was a refugee to an alien world. She also understood that her parents were deeply concerned and wanted to ensure that their children were safe; that they were proud that their children were involved in such a monumental event. But still, she needed her mom.
She had tried to tell Tshering but she was too busy planning for the move to Switzerland and she had hardly seen Akash. She had tried to tell the other Crickets but they were too busy preparing for the jump. And here she was, packing a few personal belongings, hours away from leaving Earth, carrying Akash’s child, trying to suppress tears.
It was bitterly cold on the tarmac. Sleet was swirling about them as they huddled under an awning. It was two in the morning and because Paro airport was always closed for night flights they would not be seen. It was the perfect time for the launch. The low cloud would quickly hide their craft in the unlikely event that anyone might be awake and looking out a window at the sky.
“Okay everyone. Time to board. Two at a time to minimise your exposure to the cold,” Eva yelled. “Tommo and Rafael first.”
“Mierda,” Rafael cursed as he took off his winter coat (which would not be needed on Eden). “Acqui va nada,” he yelled as he and Tommo ran to the gantry in summer hiking gear. The others followed in quick fashion. The last were the Crickets, with Anaïs and Jules hugging their parents goodbye one last time.
Freja hugged Alice. She couldn’t hold back and whispered in her ear, “I think I’m pregnant.”
Alice pulled back and looked at her, her eyes wide with surprise. “Are you sure?”
“No. It hasn’t been confirmed…”
“Why didn’t you tell…?”
“Come on you lot. Let’s get this hatch closed. It’s fucking freezing,” yelled Eva from the fuselage door.
“That’s why,” Freja sighed. “No time.”
Anaïs pulled at Freja whilst she took off her down coat. “Come on Frej, I’m not wearing anything under these clothes and I’ll freeze my tits off.”
Freja hesitated. If she were pregnant, wouldn’t she be safer on Earth? She looked at Anaïs jumping up and down, trying to stay warm. She’d left it too late. She pulled off her coat. “It’s not too bad,” she teased.
“Yeah, for a Viking ice-bitch,” said Anaïs as they ran to the gantry, with Lars and Jules following behind.
Fortunately the cabin was well heated (except for the cold wind coming in through the open door). Freja took a deep breath. Definitely too late now. She looked back down the tightly packed cabin at the team in their seats, each face betraying a mixture of excitement and fear. The cabin had been reconfigured. It looked more like a stripped down military transport than a commercial airliner, every spare inch used for either human or material cargo, every item designed for reuse. Freja sat and strapped herself in. She heard the door close and seal.
“Okay everyone. Just a reminder that it may get rough. It won’t be like turbulence on an ordinary flight. There will be no sudden loss of altitude so you won’t get that lurching feeling in your stomach. It will be more like being tossed about on waves with oscillations in pitch, roll and yaw. The gyroscopes will correct it eventually but if any of you suffer airsickness, well, you’ll see sick bags. There are also no toilets, so hold on, if you can’t, just piss yourself. We can clean it up later.”
There were nervous laughs as Eva took her seat in front of a simple screen. There was no cockpit and no instrumentation. Everything was automated, the void mechanics sealed for and aft. The reason for the automation was simple: void navigation required complex computation, computation beyond normal human capabilities. It was simply impossible to fly this beast manually. Not that it would have made a difference. Any failure would be catastrophic and fatal; space suits were pointless.
Eva counted down. “Lift off,” she yelled. There was an external scraping sound as the fuselage lifted off the ground, dragging the landing gear across the tarmac as a sudden gust shifted it sideways. This was followed by an eerie silence. As they looked out the windows they noticed the ground steadily falling away. They were floating, not flying. In no time the view became obscured by cloud and they entered a period of blackout.
Freja grabbed Anaïs’s hand and squeezed. Anaïs looked at her and gave her a nervous smile of encouragement. “I think I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
“What?” said Anaïs as the craft rolled suddenly to a thirty-degree angle. “Merde, baise-moi.” She gripped Freja’s hand tightly. The conversation was over.
It was a rough ride for a further fifteen minutes. They could hear retching somewhere up the back. Freja almost vomited as the smell hit her nostrils. This was her definition of hell. A wave of nausea and claustrophobia hit her hard and she almost fainted.
Then it was over and the cabin was filled with the brilliance sunlight unfiltered by atmosphere. There were exclamations of wonder throughout the cabin. She was on the opposite side but as she peered through squinted eyes she could just make out sunrise over a curved horizon. She turned to look out the window on her side. Anaïs had the window seat and the best view, but she could clearly see the curve of the Earth and the glow of cities on the night side.
“Okay everyone.” Eva announced. “You’ll be feeling the effects of low gravity; some of you may feel light headed or nauseous. You’ll be tempted to try and float but please stay strapped in and keep all objects secured.”
Freja laughed. “Anaïs, your hair!”
Anaïs lifted her hands but almost hit herself as she failed to compensate for the sudden loss of weight in her arms. The effect became more pronounced as they accelerated out of low orbit toward the departure zone. Freja felt her own hair floating around her and relaxed her arm muscles to let her arms float in front of her as if she were in a bath.
It was a moment of pure, childish wonder.
“Everyone.
A minute to the jump. Take one last look at mother Earth,” Eva announced.
She craned her neck to see. The Earth was clearly a globe now. How had she found herself in this situation? She felt her stomach. She was certain now. She was carrying a child that would not be born on Earth - an alien. She heard the countdown but wasn’t paying too much attention. Then the globe of the Earth disappeared.
Her heart stopped. This was impossible. Her senses rebelled. She heard gasps, cheers and clapping. She turned around, confused. Anaïs grabbed her hand and through tears, gasped, “Frej, look, Eden!”
She turned and looked to where Anaïs was pointing. She leant forward to get a better look and Anaïs leant back to compensate. And there it was. It could not be a more dramatic introduction to her new home. They had come in with the sun behind so that Eden was in full sunlight with both moons also full and glorious. The vivid, opal-like Eros just rising over the horizon and the pinkish, crater ridden Psyche a little higher and to the left.
“It’s an auspicious sign,” said Anaïs.
Freja turned to look at her. “Anaïs, your tears, they aren’t falling.”
Anaïs instinctively touched her cheek and the movement freed a droplet. It floated in front of them. “Wow! Plus de merveilles.”
“People, attention everyone. We have a fifteen-minute window before we come in to position for our descent. All systems are fine. This means we have a few minutes to move, um, float around the cabin. I’m sure you can organise yourselves so everyone that wants to can get time to experience zero-g. A word of caution. Go very slow and don’t bump heads. Oh, and one other thing. It’s a hot day in paradise, top of thirty three degrees, seventy five per cent humidity.”
There was laughter as people released their seat restraints. Freja released hers and marvelled at the way her body floated in the chair.
“Excuse me,” said a smiling Lars as he floated between them at an impossible angle. “I just wanted to get a better look.” She leant back to give him room as he drifted in horizontally to look out their window. “Underbart, she’s stunning. Vart nya hem, syster.”
Paradise Reclaimed Page 91
