by Janet Woods
The wishing dish had come back to her, and she put it to use to satisfy her own vanity. ***A great shout went up when the troopers saw the slender woman appear on the plain. They hurried to form honor ranks in their black and scarlet uniforms. Their swords created an arch of silver above her head. Ruarc’s woman was dressed in the lord’s colors of purple and silver, and wore jeweled circles of rank about her ankles. Her hair was a cascade of silver rippling down her back. The troopers could see her eyes were green, though she looked neither to the left nor right as she moved with dignified steps through their midst towards the entrance to the manor. Their lord came out to greet her, his countenance grave. The Salsen woman did not humble herself before him as others would, nor did she bow her head in homage. An awed gasp came from the mouths of the troopers when Ruarc smiled at the proud tilt of her head. He fell to one knee and bowed his head, then held out his hand in the greeting of a subservient. ‘My Lady.’ ‘Rise, my Lord Ruarc,’ she said.
He rose and placed his palm against hers, experiencing the vibrations flowing between them. Their fingers intertwined. ‘You have come then, my Nyari.’
‘Did you doubt that I would, Lord? I did not wish to experience your wrath.’ She blushed a little when Ruarc gave a soft chuckle. ‘Then you’d experience my love instead?’
‘Aye, Ruarc.’ Her glance went to the woven ornament decorating his wrist and amusement came into her eyes. ‘The alchemist convinced me.’ For a moment Ruarc’s glance went to the high place, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. Picking her up in his arms, and with the cheers of the troopers ringing in their ears, he carried her over the threshold into the manor. *** The joining of the world had been achieved, but the event had not been without trauma. As the crystal shafts had met and grew together the world had been beset by earthquakes and floods. Ranges of mountains had been thrust up along the fault-line and rivers diverted from their course. There had been one worrying moment when all the crystals had touched. The friction had caused lightning bolts to arc up through the earth into the sky. Unprepared for the reaction Ruarc had drifted, stunned and helpless in the turmoil of the dreaming place. Nyari had experienced his pain as her spirit had guided him to safety – as he experienced her pain this day.
But now it had gone. He smiled as her joy bubbled into his mind like wine. Signaling to his chief adviser, he rose, and then strode rapidly through the lines of courtiers, his wide smile telling them the waiting was over. He made his way to the birthing chamber, and, dismissing the smiling attendants gazed down at Nyari. He couldn’t imagine now what life had been like without her. They were one mind, one body, and one love. His son was squalling with lusty indignation at his painful passage into the world. He was of good weight, and strong, his legs already kicked against the restraining blanket. He exchanged a glance with Nyari, sharing the sense of achievement in her smile. Pride swelled fiercely inside him and his previous achievements paled into insignificance. He was man amongst men. No other could have sired such a handsome prince. The boy had his mother’s moonlight hair, eyes of jade and a roar like a young bull. Ruarc grinned as Nyari’s eyes gently mocked him for his arrogance. Taking their son from her arms he carried the boy towards the window, saying softly. ‘Come, my little prince, we must announce your arrival.’ In the square below, the crowd waited in hushed expectancy. They stretched as far as the eye could see, Salsen and Magellan united in the quest for survival. A lump came to Ruarc’s throat as he held his son on high and offered him to the people. ‘A son is born,’ he cried out, his voice ringing to the high place. ‘Let there be rejoicing.’
*****
BODY SWITCH – sci-fi
The chamber was little more than an airtight box. Curran sucked in a deep breath. ‘I thought this method of transference was still in the experimental stage.’ ‘It is, but it’s never failed yet. It’s still on the top-secret list. How did you find out about it?’ ‘My print cleared security, didn’t it?’ ‘Triple zero.’ ‘Then that’s all you need to know,’ Curran said. ‘Are you sure I’ll get a good body to transfer into?’ ‘If you’d gone through the familiarization process you’d be aware of the body you were getting. You were lucky to find someone with the same needs as yours at such short notice. By the way, you have exactly two weeks.’ Long enough to deal with Targon, Curran thought. ‘What’s this Sam like?’ ‘Now who’s asking too many questions?’ the attendant said huffily. ‘For all I know you could be the con who escaped from Traz last week.’ Curran subjected him to a long, level stare. ‘You know exactly who I am. Brookson doesn’t employ fools in a position of trust.’ The attendant smirked. ‘Sam’s a scientist, and unpaired. Aged 25. The IQ is sky high. Think you can handle it?’
‘Better than you’d be able to handle a punch on the nose if I let one fly. Let’s get on with it, shall we? ‘Okay, okay! Let’s go. When the chamber fills with vapor, slowly let your breath out on the count of . . . one . . . two . . .’ ‘ eight . . . nine .... ten,’ Curran heaved in a breath as the door released with a hiss. A woman in a white coat smiled at him. ‘Nice transference, Curran, your pulse didn’t miss a beat. Welcome to New Britain. You might feel shaky for a moment or two, but it’ll soon pass.’ ‘What time does the shuttle arrive?’ His voice was higher, but soft and husky. He cleared his throat. Her smile faded. ‘There was a malfunction in the drive and the shuttle drifted. The passengers are not in danger, but it could be a few days before rescue brings them in. Have you got family on board?’ ‘A business associate.’ His new voice hadn’t changed, and he thought it might have something to do with the vapor in the chamber. She was too well trained to enquire further. ‘We could establish a link if it’s urgent.’ He forced a smile to his face. ‘It can wait.’ She nodded and slid an envelope on to the desk. ‘Check the contents and sign for them. Inside you’ll find a map, and a security clearance card that also opens the door to your host’s accommodation – so don't lose it. The key card must be returned on departure. A change of clothing is in the cubicle. ‘ The hand reaching for the envelope wasn’t his. It was too small, and soft. He gazed down at the body he’d occupied in disgust. ‘Hell! Sam’s a female.’ The attendant looked puzzled. ‘Didn’t you go through a body familiarization course?’ He cursed. No wonder the first attendant had smirked. The smile he offered her was the Curran special. ‘You wouldn’t be able to help me out a little, would you?’ She laughed. ‘I think I’d better, that leer is totally out of place when applied to another female. ‘ An hour later Curran knew how a woman functioned. The body felt strangely soft and weak as he left the building. He’d have to treat it gently. He walked towards the transport system, his breasts jiggling up and down. He pressed his hands against them. Nice, very nice, he thought, trying not to grin. A man winked at him, a badge identified him as a vacationer from Helios. ‘Want me to do that for you?’ ‘Get lost!’ Having a good female body was going to bring its own set of problems. It curved in sensuous flowing lines from shoulders to feet. The face was finely boned, the eyes green and dreamy, the mouth definitely kissable. He just wished he could kiss it, instead of kiss with it. The shuttle malfunction had worked in his favor, he realized as he boarded the fast moving rail car. It would give him time to hone it, strengthen it for the confrontation with Targon. The man who’d approached him earlier had taken the seat opposite and was staring. Curran hastily drew his knees together. When the man followed him off the rail car, he elbowed him in midriff. He smiled when he doubled over, gasping for air. Nice womanly touch, Curran. A man would have killed the puny little sod.
Sam’s accommodation was situated in the centre of town. The comfortable house was a far cry from Curran’s functional one-man unit back on Helios. He drew on his knowledge of history. New British settlers had arrived in the fifth decade of 2000, after the independent earth island had been brought to heel by the might of a united Europa. The Helios satellite had been regarded as a desert up till then. Intent on reproducing an earth environment, they’d been resourceful in transforming
the small planet. The trip from the transference station had revealed vast tracts of forests and fields growing on once arid land. Abundant water had been discovered underground, and they seemed to have put that to good use. The town he found himself in was domed, like the village outposts he’d passed through, but the air was of good quality. He found out why when he went through Sam’s records. She was working on building up the planet’s thin atmosphere by natural forestation. Another 25 years or so and they’d be able to breathe without supplement. In comparison, the air systems on Helios were constant trouble, and a target for criminals. Targon, the man he now hunted, had wiped out a whole family unit block. He scowled. Over seventy families had suffocated to death. Targon had escaped from Traz. It was Curran’s responsibility to bring him to justice, and that justice was long overdue. The man should have been executed long ago, despite his special status. Beneath Sam’s house he discovered a fully equipped gym. He spent a couple of hours on some muscle building, and then tried something more ambitious. He grunted. He couldn’t lift the damned bar from the bench. ‘Sam, honey,’ he murmured. ‘I’ll have to do something about this body of yours before I confront Targon.’
***
‘That, gentlemen, concludes the presentation. We offer you a perfect atmosphere that will regenerate itself constantly and sustain generations of life indefinitely.’ Sam stifled a sigh, and resisted the urge to stretch. Curran’s body felt restless, ready for more exercise. ‘We have a life-sustainable atmosphere now,’ one of the three Helios scientists muttered. ‘What you have is an outmoded air-recycling system. Your life span is decreasing. If you don’t start this now, the people on Helios will become extinct.’ Someone laughed. ‘I don’t see any evidence of extinction in that Helios body you’re occupying.’ ‘It was singled out from incubation for special treatment.’ ‘We don’t need a New Britain to tell us that.’ Sam sighed, refusing to be drawn into a slanging match. ‘You haven’t got the resources to achieve this perfection with everyone.’ ‘She’s right,’ a large, middle-aged man interjected. ‘I genetically manufactured Curran myself.’ He’d overdone the testosterone levels, Sam thought. Curran’s body had one hell of a sex drive. She stopped herself from shifting his genitals from one side to the other. They were a damned nuisance. ‘Didn’t you manufacture Targon as well, Brookson?’ the heckler said. ‘Someone got at him, tinkered with the conscience factor.’ ‘Back to your theory of manipulation by an evil master mind?’ the same voice sneered. ‘Why don’t you admit you made a mistake with him.’ Brookson glared at him. ‘That’s enough, Fleming!’ Lars Messner, the head of security rose to his feet. ‘No doubt Curran will take care of Targon.’ Fleming’s eyes gleamed as he gazed at Brookson. ‘The vehicle he’s in isn’t built for the punishment Targon’s capable of inflicting.’ A thrill of dismay trickled down Sam’s spine when Lars said smoothly. ‘Targon won’t be expecting it to come from a woman. As it is, we’ve strayed from the point. We’ll meet again tomorrow and discuss what we’ve heard. I see no reason why the air regeneration system should not be studied in depth. They’ve offered us their expertise free of charge - and as far as I can see, with no ulterior motive.’ There’s a motive, Sam thought. In years to come, when you realize it’s too late for you as a race, you’ll take what we’ve got by force. That’s why men like Curran and Targon were bred in the first place – to conquer. Lars Messler held up his hand when the men began to rise. ‘The topic under discussion is of the utmost secrecy.’ ‘Can I speak to you, Lars,’ she said when the others had gone. ‘I’ve got a problem with this body. I can manage it physically, but the reproductive urge is strong, and I don’t know how to handle it.’ Lars gave a soft laugh. ‘I’ll see what I can arrange to release the sexual energy. What means would you prefer? Mechanical, chemical or physical?’ Embarrassed, she muttered. ‘Whatever would suit Curran, I guess.’ His smile was unexpectedly ironic. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
