by J. Naomi Ay
The Two Moons of Rehnor
Book 2
My Enemy’s Son
J. Naomi Ay
Published by Ayzenberg, Inc.
Copyright 2012-2016 Ayzenberg, Inc.
All Rights Reserved
011215
Cover Art by Robert W. Cabell
Also by
J. Naomi Ay
The Two Moons of Rehnor Series
The Boy who Lit up the Sky, Book 1
My Enemy’s Son, Book 2
Of Blood and Angels, Book 3
Firestone Rings, Book 4
The Days of the Golden Moons, Book 5
Golden's Quest, Book 6
Metamorphosis, Book 7
The Choice, Book 8
Treasure Hunt, Book 9
Space Chase, Book 10
Imperial Masquerade, Book 11
Rivalry, Book 12
Thirteen, Book 13
Betrayal, Book 14
Fairy Tales, Book 15
Gone for a Spin, Book 16
Firesetter Series
A Thread of Time, Book 1
Amyr’s Command, Book 2
Three Kings, Book 3
Exceeding Expectations, Book 4
Table of C
ontents
Prologue
Chapter 1 – Shelly
Chapter 2 – Katie
Chapter 3 – Shelly
Chapter 4 – Senya
Chapter 5 – Shelly
Chapter 6 – Berkan
Chapter 7 – Katie
Chapter 8 – Email
Chapter 9 – Katie
Chapter 10 – Email
Chapter 11 – Meri
Chapter 12 - Katie
Chapter 13 – Rekah
Chapter 14 – Berkan
Chapter 15 – Moira
Chapter 16 – Katie
Chapter 17 - Shelly
Chapter 18 – Katie
Chapter 19 - Berkan
Chapter 20 - Senya
Pro
logue
He started walking across the planet, the red dust covering his bare feet, coating them with a thin layer of powder. The dust still held traces of radioactivity from the war; the nuclear missiles launched a millennium ago. It was hot and so dry his throat felt parched within mere moments. He wished he had some water and would have willed himself some had he known where some might be. He didn’t know any place on this planet. He was completely and totally alone in this dark hot terrain, guided only by the distant scent of the ocean, the slope of the landscape under his feet and the occasional sound of a speeder or a bird passing above him. Never the less, he kept walking.
While he walked, he tested himself. He forced himself to think on the past though he had tried for nearly a decade to wipe it from his brain with drugs. Nothing was forgotten. Every moment from the orphan home to the guards who came and tore him from the Lord Governor’s dead body was still there on the tip of his consciousness. Every emotion, every moment of rage still burned like an ember in his heart. He looked forward and knew that this would not always be. Someday he would be content. Someday he would even be happy, for a while.
He tested himself in other ways too. Throughout the desert of this godforsaken land, he tried his strength on boulders of rock and ruins of buildings that had once stood as testaments to a great people. He drew fire from nowhere and rain upon himself when he grew too hot and thirsty. When his feet grew sore and swollen, he summoned his wings and looked upon the land from the air, satisfying his hunger with the occasional snake or rodent.
When finally he reached the sea, he had walked and flown for more than seven days and though he held no fondness for water, he immersed himself fully and washed away the red dust. Then he held the water in his hands and willed the sodium and ions to separate and fall freely back into the sea leaving only the hydrogen and oxygen for him to drink. He drank and quenched his thirst and then turned back to the shore to rest from his journey.
It was while he lay upon the sand that he heard the Voice and quickly he prostrated himself upon his knees. The words of the Voice made everything clear and now, he understood to where his journey had led. He thanked his Lord for the insight and rising to his feet, called forth his blade, long ago stashed away in a secret place. With his blade he cut the ulnar artery at his wrist and let his blood spill to the dust. Then he willed the skin to close, the wound to heal and took from the sea more fresh water. Already where his blood had lain there grew grass. When he added the water, the grass spread outward in long tendrils, its roots digging through the dead earth and churning it, nourishing it, bringing it and the DNA of long dead worms and creatures back to life. He sat back on his heels and listened to the sound of the grass growing. He inhaled the scent of chlorophyll. He ran his hand across the soft green spines and then he lay down upon them and saw forward to this place when a great forest rose on either side of him. He heard the distant music of a waterfall, the pond and brook that would run through the forest and feed the ocean with new salmon. He felt the wind caress the tops of the majestic trees upon which he would sit and then he heard voices in a language he didn’t yet know. His heart raced when he heard the laughter of the woman, a sound like the sweetest music. He smelled her and felt the softness of her skin beneath his calloused palm and on his tongue.
Just as quickly as the sensations came, they were gone leaving only the night air cooling rapidly around him. Now he understood the task before him. He knew why he was set here and what he must do. He must heal this land and her people and then he too would heal. He felt the rage, the knot of anger that had burned in his soul begin to unravel. A peace and contentment washed over him. He turned on his side and fell soundly, blissfully to sleep because in that brief glimpse of the future, he felt something he had never known before in this lifetime. He had felt loved.
Chapter 1
Shelly
I had lived in Takira-hahr, Rozari for about three years. I actually liked it there. It reminded me of home which was Tucson, Arizona.
Rozari was covered by a layer of red dust and enormous Sedona-like red rock formations lined the landscape. Huge craters and canyons could be found scattered across the planet which were tragic daily reminders of the nuclear war that took place nearly a thousand years before. The weather was warm but cooled off appreciably in the evening and it almost never rained. My husband Tim had tried several times to start a garden in the desolate patch we called our backyard but because of his travel schedule and my lack of interest in watering it, everything usually dried and died immediately after taking root.
We came to Rozari because Tim was offered command of the Landbase. Our two sons, Thad and Larry, were grown and married by then and their wives had no interest in leaving Earth. The Landbase would be Tim’s first command as an Admiral, so it was a good move career-wise for him. I was looking for an adventure, something new to shake up my middle age so I figured what the heck, let's go be aliens someplace.
Landbase Rozari was one of the largest bases in the Planetary Alliance, located just outside of the city of Takira-hahr which was one of the few cities on the planet that had been released from their air dome. Land was practically free and taxes were low as the government was doing everything it could to encourage people back outside into the post-nuclear wasteland. Cheap and free were strong incentives for many so there were plenty of other Humans around to keep us company. Ships were always coming and going as a nuclear devastated planet that had actually managed to survive was not only a rarity but a great tourist attraction.
I found a research position fairly quickly after we arrived on the planet. Back at the University of A
rizona, I had worked on my Post Doc in Socio-Anthropological studies. The Anthropology department at the Rozarian Science Institute was tiny and understaffed which suited me fine. It was just two miles from the Landbase which made it minutes from my house. At U of A, I had studied Hopi culture. At RSI, I explored the Wars of the Saint, the unfortunate episode in time that brought this poor planet to the decrepit state it was in.
I felt perfectly content in my job, my home and my life. In fact, if someone told me then that I would leave all that to be where I am now, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
I’ll leave that part for later though. A friend of mine always said, “Time has to happen in the way it has to happen,” so I’ll just begin at my beginning.
The Department Chairman of Anthropology at the Rozarian Science Institute was Dr. Kenak, a sweet old guy. He stood shorter than me at less than five feet and had a curly bush of pure white hair. Like most Rozarians, his skin was pasty and pale from having grown up under a dome and now splotched with moles and pigment from emerging into the sun later in life. Skin cancer was a huge problem on Rozari.
Dr. Kenak pretty much left me to do whatever I wanted. He didn’t care if I taught one quarter and researched the next. His passion in life was the history of Rozari and all he cared to do was to get into long discussions about Markiis Kalila, the Saint, and his rival, the Infidel, Karukan de Kudisha. He could talk your ear off for hours about those guys.
Dr. Donak was an old friend of Kenak's and like his buddy, barely hit five feet tall. Donak’s once dark hair was streaked with grey and he wore thick glasses over his dark blue eyes but otherwise, he and Kenak looked so much alike that easily one could mistake them for brothers. Donak was a medical doctor over at the RSI Medical Centre but now was semi-retired. He hung around our department most afternoons.
On this particular afternoon, Kenak was working quietly in his office and I was sitting at my desk staring at nothing. The temperature outside was well over 120 degrees and I was sleepy and not very motivated to work. I had agreed to teach a class the following quarter on the period of years prior to Markiis Kalila being declared the Saint. I had been attempting to write out my lesson plans but was suffering from a brain block and just couldn't seem to write anything beyond a word or two. When the door opened, I was actually thrilled. I was hoping it would be one of my students or a colleague from another department or even someone selling something just so I could have a conversation and not have to think about this. The person that entered was Donak though and I audibly moaned.
“What's the matter, Shelly?” he asked. “You do not wish to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you, Donak,” I replied and stifled a yawn. “I was just hoping you would be bringing me an iced latte or something else cold and delicious.”
“And I've come with empty hands instead.” He showed me his hands. “But an interesting find to share with you and Kenak. Is he in?”
“In his office.” I pointed to the door across the room and rose up to follow him. “What sort of find? Archeological? Did you find an old bone for us to look at?”
“Kenak!” Donak ignored my question and shouted for Kenak. Kenak was going a bit deaf and tended to repeat things which prompted Donak to shout things. “Kenak, I've got something to tell you.”
“What is it, what is it?” Kenak responded and waved us into his office which was really not much more than a closet with a couple of chairs perched behind a desk much too large for the space.
Our department was severely underfunded by a university that was perpetually suffering from budget cuts. Donak sat down in his usual chair while I stood in the doorway and fanned my face. The air conditioning didn’t work too well here either, although no one else seemed to be bothered by it as much as me.
“Last week we had a patient come in through the ER,” Donak announced taking off his glasses and wiping them on his tunic. I went back to my office and found everyone a cold bottle of water and then sat down in the chair next to Donak to listen.
“I was working the ER you know,” Donak continued. “Once a month, they insist I must do the rotations. Oh, how I hate the ER. I am far too old to be rushing here and there and quick and stat and this poor fellow needs this and that poor fellow needs that. I am much happier in my quiet little office with one or two patients who I have seen for years and years for the usual pains and the usual aches.”
“Yes, quite, quite,” Kenak agreed, nodding his head. “I have never understood how you could possibly manage rushing here and there and this one bleeding and that one oozing and another one tossing up all sorts of foul matter.”
I stood up. I’d heard this discussion before. Next they would start in on what Donak would do to entertain himself upon retirement and whether golf or bridge lessons would provide enough mental stimulation.
“Where are you going, Shelly?” Donak asked. “Do you not want to hear of my find?”
“I do. But I don’t want to hear about blood oozing and spurting.”
“Please,” he waved, “sit back down and I shall tell you all about a patient I admitted and I will not make mention of anything he oozed or spurted.”
“Thank you.” I took my seat again.
“Yes, well,” Donak began again, cleaning his spectacles one more time. “This fellow was brought in by the police, you see. Stoned out of his mind, he was.”
“Stoned?” Kenak gasped. “On what?”
“Horkin!” Donak exclaimed. “Can you imagine? This is what all the aliens have done to our beloved Rozari, my friend. Sorry Shelly, do not take this personally. We never had drug addicts before all these folks settled here. Now we have drugs again and drug addicts.”
“Quite, quite,” Kenak mused thoughtfully. “A drug addict.”
“That’s it?” I asked. “You came to tell us about a stoner bum?”
“No,” Donak continued and put his glasses back on which magnified his eyes to about ten times their normal size. “Well yes. Actually, I did come to tell you that this particular…uh… stoner bum had enough Horkin in him to kill an elephant, two elephants actually. He was found under a bench in the middle of the shopping mall by the Takira-hahr police. Somehow he got there during the night when the mall was closed and locked up tight.”
“A clever stoner bum who can pick a lock.” I sighed and stood up again. Granted there were not too many bums and drug addicts on Rozari but I wasn't bored enough to waste the rest of my day hearing about one.
“Ah hah,” Donak said. “That is what the interns thought too. Waste of time, this one. Sober him up if he hasn't killed his brain and send him on his way. But!” Donak paused and punctuated his sentence with an audible exclamation point.
“Yes, yes?” Kenak prodded.
I stood by the doorway with my arms crossed, and waited.
“After analyzing a bit of blood, we discovered that not only had this fellow enough Horkin in his system to kill two elephants, he had Haloperidol enough to kill two elephants.”
“What's Haloperidol?”
“A very strong tranquilizer,” Donak replied. “Not something you would use on an advanced life form unless you wanted him knocked flat for days. Immobilized, paralyzed, unconscious, should be dead but he was not.”
“Did you tell this to the police?” Kenak inquired.
“I did not.”
“Why?”
“Because when I examined more of the subject's blood, I discovered several other very interesting and curious things. One, his plasma was full of very unusual proteins.”
“So he is alien,” I remarked.
“No,” Donak replied dismissively. “He is not alien. There were clearly Rozarian markers in his blood too.”
Kenak's eyes grew wide.
I glanced between the two men. What was I missing?
“He is Rozarian, then?” I ventured. “A Rozarian stoner bum drug addict.”
“Yes, possibly or no, possibly not. In truth I cannot exactly say." Donak smiled
and turned back to Kenak. “But now my friends, here is the most important and most interesting bit. This fellow has been marked!”
“No!” shouted Kenak, suddenly leaping from his chair.
“What?”
“Really, Donak?” cried Kenak, leaning forward across his desk.
“What are you talking about?” I gasped.
Donak nodded profoundly.
“How?” Kenak exclaimed. “How and where and what is it?”
“It appears to be cut and then burnt,” Donak replied smugly. “I am certain you will want to see it for yourself.”
“And where?” Kenak implored, raising his arms and opening his hands. “Where? Where?”
“Extending across his left deltoid to the brachialis.” Donak pointed at his own arm. “It appears to me to be the Eagle.”
“Holy Saint,” Kenak sighed ecstatically and fell back upon his chair, his hands now stuck in his white curls. “Holy Saint, Holy Saint.”
“What does this mean?” I practically screamed.
“Our friend Donak has found a Karupta, dear Shelly.” Kenak shook his head with a wondrous expression on his face. “And one who is marked with the sign of Karukan, the Eagle.”
“But there aren’t any Karupta left on Rozari,” I stated. “They left a thousand years ago.
“Only the kings and princes were marked.” Kenak managed to extract his fingers from his hair and made a prism of them instead. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “A prince would be marked as you say. The king would be marked across the forearm. Could this one be a prince?”
“Ha,” Donak coughed. “This one appears to be a slave, not a prince. Perhaps the Karupta, wherever they are, have changed their reasons for marking. Perhaps he is now branded with the symbol of the prince he serves.”
