No Other Love

by Speer, Flora

  “Yesss,” breathed Imra. “You know the future, don’t you?”

  “What will you tell her?” asked Jidak.

  “First, I am going to insist on meeting Ananka again,” Herne said. “I’ll begin by confronting that ball of light.”

  “If you need a friend to stand with you – ” Jidak offered.

  “Or a second friend,” put in Imra.

  “Don’t try to speak with Saray this evening,” Tula advised. “On the night of a Gathering she stays with Hotan, and he will dispute any attempt to confer with her alone. I will send a message in the morning, asking her to join us at Dulan’s house before she goes home tomorrow.”

  “Be sure she meets with us early in the day,” said Herne. “There may not be much time left.”

  “You are a brave man, yet you are afraid. But it is not fear for yourself,” Tula murmured as Jidak and Imra moved away from them. “This is what I sensed in you the first time we met. You have been concealing something of deadly importance.”

  “I’ll tell you soon,” Herne promised. “Don’t worry, Tula. There is no danger to you, or to Dulan.”

  “I never thought there was.” Now that Hotan and his band had been stopped by Saray, Tula was able to smile again and to leave the protection of the pedestal. “You are free to speak with anyone here, though I know you cannot communicate with the Chon. You may retire to Dulan’s house whenever you wish. After Hotan’s promise to Saray, no one will bother you.”

  With that, Tula bowed to them, leaving to join Dulan and a group of Chon. On the far side of the Hall, Saray and Hotan stood talking with a few of the tougher looking men and the two Jugarians, until Hotan took Saray’s arm a bit roughly and led her through the main door.

  “There is a soundless murmuring in the air,” Merin said to Herne, “a constant vibration. It’s like hearing a conversation that is just too far away for me to be able to catch the words. I know it’s there, but I can’t understand it.”

  “I don’t think anyone would mind if we left,” Herne said, giving her a look that made her heart pound. “Come with me now, my love.”

  Chapter 14

  The hidden light source that illuminated the Gathering Hall did not extend to the garden behind it, where there was only moonlight and the pale gleam of hundreds of white flowers. Herne paused, searching the shadows.

  “The entrance to Ananka’s grotto has to be here somewhere,” he said, “and in that grotto we’ll find the answers we need.”

  “If Ananka is capable of appearing at Saray’s house, then she isn’t confined to one place,” Merin pointed out. “In any case, you won’t find the answers you need in the dark. The moons are lower now, and will set soon.”

  “Which means we are free until daylight.” Merin saw a flash of white teeth as Herne’s arm slid around her waist. She stiffened, fearing they might be seen. Much as she welcomed his caresses when they were alone, she still could not adjust to demonstrations of affection when others were near. She was relieved when he did not try to kiss her, but instead hurried her through the door and into the alley between the Gathering Hall and Dulan’s house.

  His arm was still around her waist and he drew her near, his free hand tilting her face upward. Her eyes had not yet grown used to the almost total darkness in the shadow of the wall, so she could not see his face.

  “All evening,” he whispered, “every moment I was aware of you. I could almost feel your skin beneath my hands. I could remember the look of your hair all undone and falling over my arm as I held you. And I remembered the way you cry out in pleasure when I make you mine.”

  “Oh, Herne.” His fingers held her chin and she knew his mouth was almost on hers.

  “You are part of me now, Merin, part of my mind and heart and in every cell of my body. No matter what happens, I promise I won’t let anything separate us.”

  His kiss was meant to be gentle, to seal that tender oath, but the meeting of their mouths lit a fire in Merin that was out of control in an instant. Had Herne not retained a bit of common sense, she would have lain down on the hard stone paving and let him take her there, not caring who might come upon them, for she was beyond embarrassment, beyond the reach of any discipline she had ever known. She burst into frustrated tears when he pulled away from her to urge her toward Dulan’s house.

  Once they were indoors she reached for him again and this time Herne did not resist the temptation she offered. A moment later they were in their bedchamber, where a dim lamp burned, and they were tearing at each other’s clothing. From Merin’s gown rose the rich fragrance of khata wood, filling their nostrils, heightening their desire. They fell upon the bed together, naked limbs entwined, Merin nearly attacking him with her greedy kisses and the most unabashedly erotic caresses she had ever bestowed upon him.

  At first Herne reveled in this unleashing of repressed passion, but she would not stop, not until he caught her hands in a tight grip, holding them at either side of her head while he thrust into her, hard, harder, harder still. She began to moan and writhe. Herne forced himself to control his own need so he could watch her lovely, tormented face dissolve into ecstasy. But that sight, together with the thrashing of her legs and the swiveling of her hips had their effect on him. With a loud cry he burst into a passionate climax that seemed to extend Merin’s, for she continued to move and throb beneath him. It was not until her wild cries of passion had eased into soft sobs that he withdrew and lay beside her. When she turned to him he saw the tears upon her cheeks.

  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she choked. He put his arm around her, pulling her against his shoulder. “Never in my life have I completely lost control like that.”

  “Perhaps it’s something to do with the telepaths,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  “Oressian minds are not suited to telepathy,” she reminded him.

  “Nor are Sibirnan minds,” he responded. “But close contact with many telepaths who are in communion with the Chon made us aware of what you called ‘vibrations in the air.’ That must have affected us. And don’t forget, we are suffering from a severe dislocation in both time and space. I haven’t really felt like myself since I arrived in Tathan.”

  “I’m hungry all the time,” Merin said, sitting up. “At this moment I am absolutely starving. I have to find some food.”

  “I’ll go with you.” He found their towels in the bathing room. Wrapped in them, they explored Dulan’s kitchen, discovering bread, ixak cheese, fruit, and a small jug of batreen. All of this they piled onto a tray which they took back to their room, where they sat upon the bed to eat. Merin cut the cheese, laying the pieces neatly on small slices of bread before feeding them to Herne

  “Do you think I’m so hungry because of our lovemaking?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t be at all surprised. Just a moment there!” he cried in mock anger. “For every one you give to me, you eat two, yourself.” He snatched a slice of bread and cheese out of her hand and ate it.

  “I can’t help myself. This tastes wonderful. In fact, all Tathan food tastes marvelous. Could I have some of those little orange berries before you finish all of them?” When Herne popped the fruit into her mouth she caught his finger in her teeth.

  “Will you eat that, too?” he teased.

  “Possibly.” Still clenching her teeth around his finger, she circled it with her tongue.

  “Woman.” Herne pulled his finger free. “I hope you are aware that I haven’t finished with you yet.”

  “I’m so glad.” She ran her hand across his naked chest, then reached down and tugged at the towel still twisted around his waist. Her eyes met his and in their purple-brown depths Herne saw all the love that had gone ungiven throughout her lonely life. “I hope you never finish with me,” she whispered. “I know I will never be finished with you.”

  Not taking his eyes from hers, Herne piled the few remaining crumbs of food and the empty batreen jug onto the tray and set it on the floor. Then he took her into his arms
again.

  This was a less frantic loving than the first time, but still passion flared hot and bright between them. Merin was an apt pupil, always willing to learn more, and Herne found her endlessly fascinating. She was exquisitely sensitive to his every caress, so that he felt as if her body sang beneath his searching, probing hands and his eager mouth. Their coming together was a delight so intense that he almost lost his mind.

  “I love you,” he said, looking into her wondrous eyes. He waited, poised above her, his manhood deep inside her, hoping, secretly praying to all the ancient Sibirnan gods for the answer his heart longed to hear.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and moved in exactly the way he wanted her to move. Then he did lose his mind and every vestige of self-control in an explosion of happiness that went on and on until he was drained and weak and they were both completely, blissfully satisfied. This was his woman, his love, in this time or any other. And he knew with absolute certainty that for him there could be no other love.

  * * * * *

  “Whether we ever get home again,” Herne said during the darkest reaches of the night, “or whether we are forced to spend the rest of our lives in this time, I want everyone to know that you are mine and I am yours. Will you marry me tomorrow? And if we can go home, or if we find a way to escape the Cetan attack, will you have my children? Will you live with me until we both grow old and die?”

  In Merin’s mind a blot of fear began to grow, canceling out the indescribable joy she had just experienced with Herne. She was going to have to tell him the truth about herself. His insistent love would compel her to speak. She could not say she would marry him, or even refuse him, without explaining.

  “I don’t know how to have a child,” she began, fighting back tears.

  “We have just been practicing.” Laughing, he laid a hand on her abdomen. “As a doctor, I will be happy to provide the intimate physiological details. The child will grow in here. Shall I demonstrate again how it enters?”

  His teasing manner did not disguise how much he wanted her to say she would agree. Suddenly, she wanted it, too. For all of her carefully regulated existence the idea of pregnancy had been a horror in her mind worse even than the contemplation of the act of love – which had a very different name in the Oressian language.

  Now a new thought occurred to her. The Oressian Elders had lied about the pain and physical damage caused by lovemaking. Could they have lied about childbearing, too? Was it possible that she might be capable not only of carrying Herne’s child inside her body, but of surviving its birth? A real child, a natural child, conceived in hot passion, born of love…Herne’s child inside her, growing…a child….

  “I wish it could be,” she whispered, covering her face with both hands, knowing that once she had told him everything, he would want that miracle no longer. Not with her. Never with her.

  “I know we’re in danger, and it’s probably foolish to talk about having a family,” he said, “but knowing it’s what we both want will give us something to hang onto. I’ll find a way out of here, Merin. I’m almost certain I can convince Ananka to send us back.”

  “If you can’t,” she began.

  “If I can’t, then we’ll leave Tathan anyway. We’ll go to Dulan’s retreat at Lake Rhyadur, where we know the Cetans won’t find us, and we’ll live there. We can leave a message there for Tarik, so he’ll know what has happened to us.”

  “It’s a dream,” Merin said. “It can never be. You won’t want it.”

  “It can be,” he insisted. “Whether here, or in our own time, I’ll make certain you are safe.”

  “I cannot marry you.”

  “Why not? You can’t deny that you want me.” When she tried to get off the bed, he reached for her, but she eluded him. “Merin, answer me. Why won’t you marry me?”

  “I cannot bear to tell you.” Tears were running down her cheeks. She knew he would insist upon knowing everything, and the thought of telling him was breaking her heart. She made one last, foolish effort to stop what was inevitable, taking refuge one final time in the standard Oressian phrase of denial. “I am forbidden to tell you.”

  “I thought we were finished with those old excuses.” They were both standing now, Herne holding onto her hands so she could not cover her face again or try to run away from him. “Merin, I have just asked you to be my wife. For a Sibirnan, that is no small thing. I deserve a better answer than just, ‘I am forbidden to tell you.’”

  For a long time she stared at the floor rather than at him, trying to gather her courage while he held her hands as if they were tethering him to life itself. Then the weight of the terrible secrets she had been carrying since leaving Oressia became too great for her to bear the burden any longer. Her shoulders slumped. She took two steps backward and lifted her head to look directly at him.

  “You are right, Herne. You do deserve an explanation. Your honest proposal, the love we have repeatedly made, and the emotions you have made it possible for me to feel, all have negated my oath never to speak of Oressian customs, just as my telling you the truth of my origins will dissolve all the beautiful promises you have made to me, all the sweet and gentle oaths you thought would bind us together forever. Let me cover my nakedness first, then I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, for when I have finished you won’t want to look at me any longer.”

  “Wrap yourself in this.” He handed her the towel she had used earlier. While he was searching for his own towel, she disappeared into the bathing room. He found her standing with her back to him, in the doorway to the enclosed garden. She looked at the plants instead of at him while she spoke. Winding his towel about his waist once more, Herne walked across the room to stand beside her.

  “Long ago,” she began, “Oressia was a world of profligate and violent passions. Wars were fought for foolish reasons, or for no reason at all except the love of killing. Rampant lust led to diseases and unhappiness. Oressian culture seemed doomed because the people would not control or even postpone their simplest desires. Every wish must be gratified immediately. There are vast resources on Oressia, including metals needed for the manufacture of space ships and their propulsion systems, but the companies formed to mine and export those metals were ruined by the greed of their owners and the indolence of the workers.

  “Then arose our great leader, Olekan.” Merin sounded as if she was declaiming the lines of some ancient epic poem. “Many were the battles, terrible the bloodshed. Entire clans were exterminated before Olekan brought peace to our world. Once he had conquered all of Oressia, Olekan established stern laws and named a Tribunal of Elders to enforce those laws. All forms of violence were strictly forbidden, the slightest infringement punishable by death. But that was not enough to prevent future wars, or a return to our old decadent ways under a new leader after Olekan had died. He understood this, so he made still more laws for our protection.

  “Oressia became a closed planet. No outsiders were allowed to set foot on it, and any Oressian who left could never return to contaminate our newly peaceful society with alien ideas. Exportation of our products was from that time conducted by mechanized ships and robots. The only importations allowed were foodstuffs and the few raw materials we lacked, which came to us on the returning unmanned ships.”

  Here Merin paused, considering how to explain the rest, how to make Herne understand without despising her. Knowing her hope was a futile one, she drew a deep breath and continued.

  “Under Olekan’s laws, marriage was forbidden. Families were forbidden because they generate ambition. Friendship, greed, hatred, social status, all were forbidden, for these were the temptations that had once led Oressians into near extinction. The few children left alive after the wars ended were educated to hate and fear those temptations.” Another pause. Merin swallowed hard. “Lovemaking was forbidden. Even mention of it was against the law. We are taught from our earliest days how dangerous it is to feel any emotion. We are strictly trained from childhood to repress all disr
uptive feelings.”

  “What you are describing is totalitarianism of a particularly insane kind,” Herne protested.

  “For your people, perhaps,” Merin responded. “But those Oressians who had survived the great wars understood that for us there could be no other way. It was strict regulation or certain extinction, and my ancestors made the only choice that would allow our society to continue. For centuries, Olekan’s system has worked well, proving the wisdom of this great leader. Oressia is now a peaceful and prosperous world. Poverty no longer exists. The metal mines are profitable once more, and those profits are dispersed for the good of all our people. Where once we were disreputable outlaws, now we have become valued members of the Jurisdiction.”

  “No families, no friends, no love, no lovemaking. That’s a lonely price to pay for social stability,” Herne said. Then, “Without lovemaking, how do Oressians reproduce? And how are the children raised, if no families are allowed?”

  “We do not reproduce,” she told him. “Not in the way you mean. What you and I have done together is strictly forbidden because it is the vilest of crimes, leading to terrible social ills. Until your body entered mine, I did not even know exactly how it was done. From early childhood each Oressian is taught to avoid any activity or any situation that might give rise to illicit desires. Disobedience of this law is punishable by immediate extermination.”

  “By Oressian law, you and I are criminals?” Herne looked as if he could not believe what she was saying.

  “From the first moment you touched me in the grotto all those weeks ago, my life was forfeit,” Merin said, “and rightfully so, for from that moment my discipline has been dissolving until now it is completely gone and I am lost forever.”

  “Only on Oressia,” Herne said. “Not here, not on Dulan’s Planet.”

  “We carry our home-worlds with us wherever we go.” Her voice was filled with sadness.