The Galactic Pantheon Novellas

by Alyce Caswell

  Silence, Rasson ordered.

  When night began to dwindle on the planet containing his chosen consort, he returned to linger at the foot of the bed, gazing down on Dom as the mortal slept.

  ‘I will not keep you here any longer than our deal permits,’ Rasson murmured. ‘But I will not relinquish you before that time.’

  Dom’s eyelids flickered. Those beautiful chestnut eyes slowly slid open. And then the sated smile appeared, one that Rasson couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for. Rasson curled his own lips, waiting for Dom to thank him, to perhaps even ask for more hands-on assistance…

  ‘You left your robe here,’ Dom told him.

  Rasson looked at the floor, startled to see his robe there, then down at his nude form. His member was soft now, but he had enjoyed how it had sprung to attention while he’d watched Dom bring himself to pleasure.

  Ducking his head to hide his disappointment at Dom’s words, Rasson retrieved the robe and clothed himself.

  ‘You showed me something wonderful last night,’ he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. ‘I wish to show you something in return.’

  He waited while Dom dressed (why the mortal insisted on wearing poorly insulated jeans that he had to cover up with several layers, Rasson had no idea) then held out a hand. The mortal accepted and encased it — with the fingers he had wrapped around himself the night before. Rasson drew in a ragged breath but swiftly banished the images that had filled his mind, forcing himself to focus. Shards of ice shot up from the floor, sharp and deadly, causing Dom to flinch. But the mortal lifted his chin and remained standing tall, even as the shards began to swirl dizzyingly around him. He wasn’t afraid. No, he looked almost…almost eager.

  Within moments, they were standing on an icefield, bathed in a glorious sunset that would last for hours on this particular planet. Rusty red and orange hues painted the sky, creating a stunning contrast for the purple buns and swirls that the clouds formed beneath it. The ice at their feet, silver instead of white, was flawlessly smooth and reflective; it bounced strange, warped shadows over both mortal and god.

  ‘Galactic Gods,’ Dom breathed. ‘This is amazing. Should have brought the vidcam.’ He turned to Rasson, excitement sparking in his eyes and making their golden rims stand out even more. ‘What planet is this? I have to come back.’

  Rasson told him, watched Dom mentally take note of it, then said, ‘Not as beautiful as the sight you gave me, but does it suffice?’

  ‘Well…’ Dom smirked. ‘It suffices. But I think the sight would drastically improve if you got rid of that robe.’

  Rasson swallowed. ‘I’m not sure I want to take it off again.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘This…this human form…’ Rasson wound his arms around himself, ensuring that the robe remained sealed. ‘It is nothing special and I have no wish to inflict it on anyone else. Once you leave my domain, no mortal will look upon it ever again.’

  Dom tsked and said in a voice that could only be described as a purr, ‘That’s a shame. Are you sure you won’t show it to anyone else? Took me a lot of effort not to get up and touch you last night.’

  Rasson wondered how it was possible that he could shiver. He was the god of ice — ice! The cold should not be affecting him. And yet it was. Somehow.

  No, he had to admit it wasn’t the cold. He was thinking of all the men he had seen on Dom’s vidcam. Some nights he re-watched that footage, wishing Dom’s lips were encircling his shaft, desperate to feel Dom’s fingers plunging into him, stretching and preparing him for something so much bigger and so much more fulfilling.

  Oh Father, what I would give for one night — and the willpower to release him… Rasson agonised.

  ‘I thought my form was undesirable,’ he said at length.

  Dom laughed and shook his head. ‘No, you’re just my type. Slim and malleable. The things I could do to a pretty boy like you…’

  ‘But you won’t,’ Rasson said flatly. It was a fact; he would have to accept it. ‘And I promise that you will never be forced to.’

  Rasson’s heart clenched when relief flashed over Dom’s face. But regret swiftly became delight as he watched the tension that Dom had carried around with him for the past week evaporate. The mortal’s shoulders relaxed and his stance loosened. Even Dom’s smile now seemed more genuine.

  Together they watched the sunset in silence for more than an hour, until Dom suddenly said, ‘You’re lucky, Rasson.’

  ‘I am?’ Rasson said, taken back.

  ‘Yeah,’ Dom responded. ‘You have eternity to experience everything the Creator God has ever made. There’s so much I’ll never see. Things like this. I’ve got about six or seven decades left to travel this galaxy, if I really take care of myself. Which I probably won’t. But even if I do, I’ll never see everything.’

  ‘Do you wish you could live forever?’ Rasson asked, his tongue playing along the inside of his lips. Oh, how he desired to offer immortality to his companion. But he would be refused. The price; too steep.

  Dom glanced at him, eyebrows raised.

  ‘Of course, there are few mortals who want such a thing,’ Rasson rejoined quickly. ‘Needing to fill in all that additional time. Growing bored with favourite hobbies. Outliving friends and loved ones.’

  ‘I don’t know, it might not be so bad,’ Dom said, a wistful smile stealing across his face. ‘I’ve got a bunch of planets I want to see, planets I’d like to revisit — I’d need hundreds of lifetimes for that. And you know I don’t have any friends or loved ones; there’s no one to miss.’ Dom’s expression grew neutral as he looked back at Rasson. ‘Do you? Have anyone, that is?’

  Rasson hesitated. ‘Yes. My brother.’

  ‘See him often?’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Rasson admitted, wishing the sky would hurry up and darken so that his discomfort wouldn’t be so obvious. ‘Only a few times each Old Earth year. But I don’t mind waiting. Most of our siblings do not understand him, the pain he has suffered, the isolation he feels. He will always need me.’

  ‘Are you lonely?’

  There wasn’t any point in denying it, Rasson thought.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered.

  Dom watched him closely. ‘Lonely enough that you plucked a stranger out of the sea and chose him as yours.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rasson repeated, much softer this time, unable to look away from the gaze that saw right through him.

  ‘I understand,’ Dom said. ‘And I’m sorry it’s that way for you.’

  Eventually Dom mentioned his missed morning meal and Rasson took him back to the fortress. Once he was fed, Dom asked Rasson to sit beside him and then held out his vidcam at arm’s length, so that they could both watch the tiny screen. Rasson had already seen the vids that Dom was showing him, but the footage was that much more vivid when Dom added to them his memories, his husky voice and his animated gestures.

  Rasson had been on countless worlds, seen countless sights. But over the past two centuries they had grown stale, uninteresting. He was enamoured of Dom’s ability to treat each new horizon as a challenge — and an opportunity.

  Dom seemed to find beauty in everything he saw.

  Even the pale, unappealing body of the Iceine.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Dom stretched, his hands held high over his head, and released a contented sigh. The furs slid down to his stomach but he waited until the frigid air became unbearable on his skin before reefing them back up. He found that he didn’t mind the cold as much as he’d used to, something that bothered him, because he didn’t know if he was acclimatising or if it was yet another small thing Rasson had done to make him feel more comfortable.

  Dom sighed again, this time almost wistfully.

  He’d been moving so fast for so long in his pursuit of the galaxy, in search of scenery that no one else had ever aimed a vidcam at, that he’d forgotten what it felt like to just sit…and relax.

  Dom had run out of work to do for the Collection a
couple of weeks ago and since then had found himself reliving his childhood dream of becoming a graphic artist — a dream that had withered away when needing to eat and pay his way across the galaxy had taken priority. With nothing better to do, Dom had fooled around with some of his footage, even made attempts at his own art. The results weren’t great, because he was rusty and had to use a vidcam with limited features as opposed to a techpad, but he felt a certain thrill to be creating again.

  This forced vacation might have had its uses, though he hoped he wasn’t going to crave more time off. He was allowed one Old Earth month per year to do with as he wished and he always cashed it in to fund his exploration habit. But maybe, just once, he’d sit still and create again…

  Dom burrowed further into the furs on his bed and smiled, satisfied from performing for Rasson again. He’d made it last longer than usual, teasing himself more than ever before, because it had been his last night in this fortress. Afterwards, just as Dom had begun to doze off, Rasson had promised, in a voice thrumming with unfulfilled need, that he would let Dom go in the morning.

  A pity, Dom thought, that he couldn’t show the god how much pleasure he was capable of inflicting on someone. He was sure Rasson would be impressed — to the point of demanding it every day for the rest of Dom’s life.

  Rasson had been candid about his belief that Dom was right, that even one night spent together could spell disaster. Dom wondered if he should bother to feel grateful that the god had listened to his opinion, given that Rasson was responsible for putting him in this position in the first place.

  ‘Don’t you dare form an attachment to him, you’re a hostage,’ Dom muttered to himself. ‘There are docovids about this sort of thing, stark it!’

  He extricated himself from the furs and began stumbling his way over to the ensuite, lured there by the promise of a hot shower. Once the necessities were dealt with and clean clothes were clinging to his form (he knew Rasson saw the jeans as impractical, but he had managed to climb mountains in them), Dom sauntered out into the antechamber that had, through laziness on both their parts, become the main space for entertainment, work, food and discussions in which Rasson proved he knew very little about mortals, despite looking after them for two hundred years.

  Better get used to attracting older men, I guess, Dom mused. I’m not getting any younger. Well, I could always lie about my age for a bit…I don’t look that bad yet.

  Smirking, he plonked himself down on a recliner smothered in furs and made himself comfortable. He didn’t have to wait for very long. Within moments, piles of crushed ice appeared, swiftly subsiding to reveal an array of food beneath them. All his favourites were there, Dom noted. He shook his head in amusement as he reached for the Butislan caviar. Not really a breakfast food, but why not.

  ‘My brother also likes that dish,’ Rasson said, dropping onto a matching recliner. The pose he adopted should have have been relaxed, with one leg propped over a knee and his arms crossed behind his head, but on the god it looked awkward. Dom had tried to teach him to act more like a human, admittedly to little success. Rasson’s oddness was actually kind of cute. Not that Dom would ever mention this to him.

  ‘Your brother — you mean Oceania, the water god,’ Dom guessed around a mouthful of pancakes; their sweetness merged surprisingly well with the salty caviar. ‘I know, I know, you can’t tell me his real name. But you talk about him a lot. Don’t you have hundreds of other siblings you can tell me about?’

  Rasson’s lips twitched. ‘Not hundreds. And it seems only one of them can be bothered to come to my domain and speak to me.’

  Dom kept his mouth stuffed with food instead of questions. He wasn’t going to tangle with politics on a divine level, though Rasson had said just enough to imply it was a minefield. Dom cleared his throat and set down his plate — not made of ice this time, thankfully. He wasn’t a fan of losing the skin off his fingers. On that particular occasion, Rasson had quickly apologised for not thinking and had then healed Dom, who had been trying not to burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of his situation.

  ‘I can’t even imagine the things you’ve seen,’ Dom said, sucking a smear of caviar off his thumb. ‘I’m jealous. I won’t even get to see a fraction of the galaxy compared to you. And it’ll get harder to charm a cheap ride out of the captains I come across once my looks fade. I’m thirty-five now, practically old enough to start haunting starship graveyards.’

  Dom chuckled and waited for Rasson to remind him that thirty-five was nothing — to a god it was really was less than nothing — but Rasson didn’t respond. The god pursed his lips, clearly on the verge of saying something (Dom knew that look now), and then shook his head.

  ‘What?’ Dom asked, grinning. ‘You thought you were worse off, being forced to look that pretty forever? Sorry to disappoint. You could help me out, though.’

  ‘How could you possibly know — ’ Rasson cut himself off. ‘How can I help you?’

  Dom had a feeling he didn’t want to delve into whatever that had meant. ‘Well, you can teleport, can’t you? So you could drop me off somewhere that would usually take me months to get to.’

  ‘I could,’ Rasson said softly.

  The itch on the back of Dom’s neck grew steadily more insistent. In the weeks they’d spent together, Rasson had become somewhat transparent to him. And right now, the god was preoccupied and — and fearful.

  Dom knew he should keep his mouth shut and go on his merry way. He’d never have to see the Iceine again.

  But Dom scratched that itch. ‘What aren’t you saying?’

  Rasson hesitated, nibbling on his lip as he glanced towards the corridor. Dom half expected him to flee. But instead the god abruptly sat up, swung his legs to the side and scooted to the edge of the recliner. He then leaned forward, his expression earnest, looking a lot like Dom’s siblings did when they were trying to wheedle their way out of some transgression.

  ‘I can make you immortal,’ Rasson rushed out.

  Dom narrowed his eyes. ‘And the catch? Don’t get me wrong, the offer’s nice, but there’ll be strings attached.’

  ‘Doesn’t it — disturb you?’ Rasson pressed. ‘Immortality. It should disturb you.’

  ‘Not really, no,’ Dom said. ‘We’ve been over this before, Rass. You know I don’t have anyone to miss, that I’d have things to do with my time.’ He dropped his plate and twisted in his seat, mirroring Rasson’s pose. ‘The catch. The price. What is it?’

  ‘You are truly considering this?’

  ‘Stop avoiding the question, Rass.’

  They watched each other, matching stare for stare, until finally Rasson murmured, more to himself than to Dom, ‘If we were to wed, in a ceremony that involves the mingling of our blood, my immortality would pass to you.’

  When the ensuing silence grew too awkward, Dom retrieved his plate from the floor and this time went for the battered calamari. It was greasy and slicked his fingers, but the taste made the mess worth it. As he reached for more, he cast a look at Rasson who was now lying back on his recliner, apparently fascinated by the ceiling. Dom peered up as well and saw that the god was creating patterns in the ice above them — an array of gentle arcs and swirls, similar to the art Dom had recently created on his vidcam.

  ‘I take it we’d have to stay married for eternity,’ Dom said, lowering his gaze to Rasson’s.

  ‘If you want to continue living, yes,’ Rasson answered curtly. As if it didn’t matter.

  But Dom saw the longing in those pale blue eyes.

  He swallowed. Galactic Gods. Why didn’t he say something earlier? Unless he was afraid that I would accept…and regret it.

  ‘Still tempted, Dom?’ Rasson asked darkly, suddenly sounding so unlike himself that Dom had to study his face for at least half a minute to be sure it was him.

  Could sub-level gods take the forms of others? Dom didn’t know, didn’t want to hang around long enough to find out. He’d already lost a whole month that he could ha
ve spent travelling and working. And he really needed to get laid. Properly.

  ‘I’d have to give this way more thought than I can do in the time we have left,’ Dom said, tactfully (he hoped) dancing around the issue.

  ‘I understand.’ Rasson’s voice trembled. ‘If I was as attractive as my brothers are…best not to dwell.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ Dom said.

  Rasson glowered at him. ‘No?’

  ‘No! Seriously, Rass, how can you not believe me? I whack off to your naked body every night. I like what I see.’

  Rasson was staring at Dom, a crease running across his forehead, likely the only line that would ever mar his skin. ‘But…?’

  ‘I’m not the type to settle down with one man — that’d be hard for me. Impossible, even.’ Dom flipped the god a grin. ‘Look, if anyone could tempt me away from my life of hedonism, it’d be you.’

  Rasson bowed his head. ‘Thank you. I will treasure those words for much longer than you live. Let me know when you are ready and I’ll teleport you to a world of your choosing.’

  Dom sighed in relief. He was as good as free.

  But then his stupid mouth started saying, ‘Tell you what. I’ll think about your offer. And if I want to accept it, I’ll…I’ll come back here.’

  ‘That’s more than I deserve,’ Rasson said, but didn’t try to dissuade him.

  Dom hadn’t thought he would. Shaking his head, he reached for the caviar. ‘You really should try some of this. I know you gods don’t need to eat, but there’s a reason your brother likes this, trust me…’

  Barely an hour later, Dom was standing beside his bed, unable to refuse the top-of-the-line hoverboots, the flashy new techpad and communicator, the freshly folded clothes (including the jeans the god had so often scoffed at, much to Dom’s amusement) and the bulging pack full of supplies. All of it teleported here, for him — and mostly likely stolen, given that Rasson didn’t seem to see the need for coin-chips.