Science Fiction Fantasies: Tales and Origins

by Unknown

  As if on cue, the first of the three ships lifted silently from the pad and rose intrepidly into the sky. In quick succession, the other two followed. Ardashir missed the thunderous roar of the early space vehicles as they clawed and fought their way into space atop a blinding light, visible for miles. Back then they shined like a beacon, announcing to all within sight that the peoples of Koi were mighty and wise. Of course, the demonstration of true wisdom was in the use of the new gravity drives that used no fuel. Sadly, thought Ardashir, without the noise and light show there was no pomp and ceremony.

  Ardashir sighed. Watching the departure of the colonists eased his compulsion somewhat. He would not completely satisfy his need to reach into space until he passed his position to Paiman. For forty years he yearned to touch the stars, since the day he turned thirty and his father seventy.

  This transference had been occurring since the first Coming of Age when Namtar, the eldest, First of Firsts, witnessed the compulsion administered to his son, Jahangir. From that time forward a son was born to the First of the Republic on his fortieth birthday, a son that would take up the burden of the compulsion.

  Ardashir turned to his son. "You must be excited, Paiman. Today is your Coming of Age. By this evening you will be First of the Republic and President of Koi Consortium."

  Paiman showed no outward reaction.

  He seldom does, thought Ardashir.

  Paiman turned his head to look at his father. A slight upturning of the corner of his mouth revealed that he did feel some emotion. A gleam appeared in his eyes. "Are you that anxious to be done, Father?"

  Deposing of decorum, as he was about to shed many more concerns, Ardashir put his arm around his son's shoulders and led him back into the office."Truthfully? Yes, I am."

  Paiman tilted his head and gazed sideways at his father with a questioning look. "Then it will dishearten you to learn that I will not accept the position of First."

  Ardashir's heart stopped beating for several moments. Stunned, he hid his disappointment as he led Paiman to the room reserved for receiving formal visitors. He knew Paiman did not desire the position, but he had hoped it would not come to a refusal. He must take it.

  Ardashir knew he should not have been surprised. Human nature often rebelled against forced servitude, but Paiman was his son, his successor. Ardashir had tried his best to prepare him for this day. Arriving at the reception room, Ardashir took his accustomed seat and indicated the one closest to him.

  Paiman sat down.

  "You are not the first to decline, Paiman."

  Paiman arched his eyebrows.

  "I know you have been taught the history of Koi and the Firsts. As you can imagine, there is a version for public consumption and then there is what actually happened."

  Paiman sat back in his seat, clearly uninterested.

  "You are a dutiful son," said Ardashir with more hope than belief. He settled in his chair and began the tale. "Two thousand, six hundred, thirty-seven years ago...."

  ***

  The chill breeze off the river made Namtar shiver despite the thick pelt that covered his body. He looked up at the sun. It was low to the horizon and had an orange tinge to it. It would soon make the trip to the bower where it would sleep away the night. There would be no more heat until it woke up and returned to the sky with the new light.

  Namtar looked longingly across the river to the island. He wished he had a way to cross over. On the island his people would be safe from the beasts that hunted at night. Namtar knew this would be so. Tearing his gaze away from the island and its promised safety, he straightened his normally stooped posture and looked about for his mate, Sari. She was gathering herbs and roots that grew along the bank. She would make the greens and smashed tubers that he liked so much.

  A light in the darkening sky caught his attention. Namtar often watched the stars at night when he couldn't sleep, but this one was different. It moved. Not the slow steady march across the sky that took all night or the bright streak that crossed in a flash. It was like the glow bugs of late spring and early summer going here and there with no apparent purpose.

  "Sari. Woman, where are you?" he called.

  There was no answer. Namtar kept his eyes on the light in the sky. It was growing larger. Urgently, he called, "Sari, come now."

  "I am here, Namtar," Sari said.

  Namtar flinched. Sari was standing right next to him. He had not heard her approach.

  "What are you looking at, Namtar?" she asked.

  Namtar shook his head. "I do not know."

  Sari pulled on his shoulder. "You called. I am here. Let us get back t the people."

  Namtar shrugged off her hand. The light mesmerized him. It was growing larger as it neared the spot where they stood.

  "Namtar, what is that light in the sky? It is bright like the stars. Is that your fear? I am scared now. Let us go."

  It was too late. Namtar was rooted to the spot. Moving faster than any object he had ever seen, the light sped toward them. It came to an abrupt stop over the spot where they stood. Namtar felt himself rising. He wanted to scream, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out. The light swallowed him. He turned his head and saw Sari rising with him.

  Namtar felt the heat of the day on his eyelids. He opened his eyes and saw that the sun had woken and climbed back up into the sky to watch over the people. No, that wasn't right. Namtar wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. The sun didn't move. The land did. He shook his head to clear his mind of those strange thoughts and looked around. Sari lay next to him on the grass. She, too, was waking up.

  "Namtar, what happened?" she asked.

  Namtar thought back, trying to remember. It was hard. Jumbled and confused thoughts refused to organize. He remembered some kind of hat on his head. Then a voice in his head told him many things. It told him how to put the plants they like to eat into the ground instead of searching for them. How to make ─ what was the word? Tools. The voice told him how to cross the river. Most importantly, it told him to keep what happened secret.

  "I do not know, Sari, but we mustn't tell anyone that something happened. Not even your mother, Sari. Or that chatter-chatter friend of yours, Mina. You must swear."

  Namtar managed to wrangle a promise out of Sari. She swore, but Namtar had a feeling there was something she wasn't telling him.

  ***

  Father, are you saying that Namtar, First of Firsts, was barely humanoid before being abducted by extraterrestrials?" asked Paiman.

  The shocked disbelief on his son's face reminded Ardashir of when his father told him the tale. He hadn't believed it at first, either. But that was before .... Ardashir squashed the thought. He mustn't get ahead of himself. He admonished Paiman, "Pay attention and remember. One day you will tell this tale."

  "Not likely," snorted Paiman.

  After a brief glare, Ardashir resumed the telling. "Days became weeks, then months. Sari was true to her word. Even after it became obvious that she was pregnant, she said nothing. Not even to Namtar, but he knew. The same something that changed his life had changed Sari's, too."

  "Let me guess," said Paiman. "She was artificially inseminated."

  Ardashir remained remarkably calm. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "I almost prefer the silent son to the mocking one."

  "I'm sorry, Father." Paiman had the dignity to look ashamed. Then he said, "What do you mean, almost?"

  "Because of your passion, you will fight the truth all the harder. Then after your conversion, you will pursue your compulsion with even greater vigor."

  Paiman closed his eyes and shook his head.

  Ardashir's sympathy grew. He really did want to be the one to tell Paiman what was to come. The procedure of the compulsion was painful at first, but even worse if unprepared. Ardashir loved his son and wanted to spare him what he could. He took up the story once again. "You are correct. Sari was artificially inseminated. The teachers are very skilled."

  "Father, please," said Paiman. "You
are wasting your time. I have decided. I am not becoming First. You will not change my mind."

  Sadness filled Ardashir's voice. "No, son. I am not wasting my time. The choice was made long ago. It lacks only it's fulfillment."

  Ardashir reached up and took off his headdress, revealing the skull cap underneath it. Then he reached up to remove the cap. Paiman's eyes grew wide. Ardashir never allowed anyone to see him bare-headed.

  Paiman's wide-eyed look turned to terror. He gasped. Pale and shaken, he fell back in his chair. Protruding from Ardashir's skull was a perfectly symmetrical grid of receptacles. Tiny arcs of energy flickered among them.

  "Voice-to-skull receptors, Paiman. Through them I communicate with the Teachers. They are the ones that have been guiding the Koi all along. Jahangir, son of Namtar and Sari was the first. With the Koi there is a limit as to how long our bodies will safely accept them. That limit is forty years. My time is over. Yours is about to begin."

  Paiman's terror filled eyes flicked rapidly back and forth, seeking escape. There was none. "No, no. It can't be true!"

  The sincerity and assuredness of Ardashir's tone underlie the sympathy in his words. "It doesn't matter whether you believe it or not, Paiman. You will soon. Turn around. Say hello to Enki."

  Paiman turned slowly. Standing behind him was a man a little taller than Paiman, but not by much. Paiman was slightly heavier and his hair not quite as blond. Other than that, they looked the same. Behind Enki the air shimmered. Two more men materialized.

  "Paiman, stand between those two men. No harm will come to you," said Ardashir. ""The next phase of your Coming of Age is about to begin. You are about to become a Shaman. I will see you shortly to conclude the Day of Beginning celebration."

  The two men stepped forward and assisted the terrified but unresisting Paiman to his feet. Positioning him between them, the three men vanished.

  Enki moved to stand next to Ardashir's chair. "Are you ready?"

  Ardashir rose eagerly. Relief awaited. He would finally be free of the compulsion. "Not to sound ungrateful for all you have done, old friend, but I have been ready for some time now."

  ###

  I know this is a collection of science fiction stories, BUT I have this really good fantasy tale. Please be forgiving and give it a fair shot. You'll be glad you did.

  Trial by Demon

  "M-m-m," purred Angeline.

  The night air was crisp. Malcolm's arms were warm. Angeline's trim athletic body snuggled deeper within their grasp. The futon creaked with the shifting of her weight.

  "What's got you so intent?"

  Malcolm's voice was dreamy Angeline opened her eyes. "I just can't believe it."

  "That we're betrothed?" asked Malcolm.

  "Well, that too," said Angeline. She rushed on, bubbling with excitement. "I've finally finished my studies. High Priestess El-lina says I show a lot of promise. Oh, don't look so hurt. Now that I have finished, I can stay," Angeline wriggled deeper in Malcolm's arms, "closer to you."

  Malcolm's arms tightened about her.

  "Angeline, Angeline!"

  Filled with urgency, the voice of Baron Hap Simon echoed through the third floor of the manor. Angeline and Malcolm disentangled themselves and sat up.

  Angeline called out, On the balcony, Father."

  Hurried footsteps preceded Hap's entry. By the time he stepped out onto the balcony, Angeline and Malcolm had risen and straightened their clothes.

  "Malcolm, you're here. Good." Hap paused a moment to catch his breath. "You father, the Cap Tan, has been murdered."

  Angeline inhaled sharply as Malcolm bolted toward the door.

  "Murdered? By whom?" demanded Malcolm.

  Hap stepped between Malcolm and the door. He was nearly bowled over. "It was baron Yakov. He is trying to usurp the Command Chair."

  Malcolm grabbed the little baron to shove him out of the way.

  Hap continued, "There are too many of his men, Malcolm."

  Angeline touched Malcolm's shoulder. "I'll use my sight. Maybe we'll see or hear something we can use."

  Malcolm cut his eyes toward Angeline. She could see how they burned with impatience. He swelled up then released Hap. Turning, he walked away from them both. "Hurry," was all he said.

  Angeline heard the hurt in his voice. Wanted to ease it, she reached for the crystal pendant she wore around her neck. A deathbed gift from her mother, the pendant marked Angeline as a sorceress. Instead of the pendant her fingers closed around a metal cylinder.

  It was her graduation token from El-lina, very powerful and very rare. Ambrosia was not what she wanted. She released it and grabbed her pendant. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on Chet Sinclair, Malcolm's father, the former Cap Tan of the Central Lands.

  The sudden smell of cinnamon distracted her. A grunt of surprise from Malcolm drew her gaze toward the balcony. She caught a glimpse of a demon, red and hideous, its arms wrapped around Malcolm, With a blinding flash, both disappeared. Angeline gasped, releasing her pendant.

  "What was that?" stammered Hap.

  Angeline trembled. "I don't know. I think it was a demon from the West."

  "What's a demon of the West doing in the Central Lands?"

  "And what does he want with Malcolm?"

  "This is not good," said Hap. He wrung his hands. First the Cap Tan, now Malcolm. Something's going on. Something big, but what?"

  Angeline knew where to find the answers. High Priestess El-lina. If Angeline hurried, she could still catch her mentor before the High Priestess returned to the Eastern Lands. Out of the corner of her eye, Angeline saw a hand wave from behind her wardrobe. What's he doing here?

  She gave her father a quick hug, then pulled away. Her words were confident. "I'll get to the bottom of this, Poppa," she said, shooing him away. "I'll report to the High Priestess. She'll know what to make of it. You get back to Uncle Marcus. I'm sure he needs you."

  "Yes, yes. I'm sure you are right." He released Angeline. "You be careful."

  Angeline smiled in assurance. "I will, Poppa. I promise."

  As soon as Hap left the room, Conner popped out from beside the wardrobe. A Reek from the Eastern Lands, he was small and impish. From her studies, Angeline knew all creatures in the Eastern Lands were magical in some way. They came in all shapes and sizes as well. Conner was half the size of a grown man, but strong as two.

  "are you really going to be careful?" he asked.

  "Of course not. High Priestess El-lina says I have promise," declared Angeline. "Why are you in my rooms? Were you spying on me, peeker?"

  "No, mistress. Conner wouldn't do that. Were you doing something worth peeking?"

  Angeline ignored the question. She narrowed her eyes to slits. "How long have you been here? What did you see?"

  "I see much and little," he said. Angeline started forward. Conner skipped away. "I saw the new Cap Tan enter, but not leave." He lowered his voice and touched his nose. "I smell demon."

  Angeline shivered. Conner had confirmed her suspicions. "I knew it."

  Conner crept closer. "Doirbhall wants you. She says now."

  "Doirbhall?" Angeline put her fingers to her temple and grimaced. She looked up and raised her hands, beseeching, "What else?"

  Angeline set a brisk pace. Doirbhall's shop was up the boulevard past the Bursary, home of the Cap Tan's tax collectors. She claimed her location was very business friendly. People came in before going to the bursary. They bought charms for the bureaucrats to believe them. Those that didn't, stopped by afterwards to buy curses against those same bureaucrats.

  Charms aside, Angeline wondered what kind of business now involved her. Demons couldn't teleport far. That meant the demon that snatched Malcolm was staying within a turning of High City, two if the demon was exceptionally strong. And what did he want with Malcolm? Angeline came to a sudden stop. "Oh!"

  Conner ran into her back. His bow materialized in his hand. He looked about for an adversary.

  "My betrothed!" excl
aimed Angeline. "The demon kidnapped my betrothed."

  "Is that a normal custom, Mistress?" asked Conner.

  Angeline spun around to face the Reek. She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Were you eavesdropping?"

  Conner scanned left, then right. "Conner didn't drop no eaves." He cocked his head up at Angeline. "So, do you rescue him now to prove your worth?" He squatted down and looked enraptured. "Conner thinks that is a good custom."

  Angeline glared. Being summoned by Doirbhall was bad enough, she didn't need some half-wit from the Eastern Lands underfoot. "Why are you following me? You have delivered your message." She waved him away. "Go on now. Shoo."

  Angeline started back up the boulevard. She heard the prancing steps of Conner behind her, along with his commentary.

  "Such a nice custom. So romantic."

  Angeline shook her head. A fleeting thought crossed her mind. Would El-lina send her after Malcolm? As a test, perhaps, to measure her skill? A bounce entered her step. Bring it.

  Doirbhall's shop doubled as her cottage. It was wood, and like all buildings in High City, covered with a stone veneer to protect it from the lightning of the harvest storms. Angeline paused at the door. Now that she was here, she wondered what Doirbhall wanted with her anyway? She reached to pull the bell rope. The door opened before Angeline could grasp the thin cord. She started.

  "Come in, dear. Don't linger on the stoop. It looks indecisive. In with you, now." Thirtyish with earthy red hair held off her forehead by a white headband smudged with residue from her herbal concoctions, Doirbhall waved her pestle like a pointer. "What took you so long?"

  Angeline stepped through the door. "My father stopped by. The Cap Tan has been murdered."

  Doirbhall paused. She set her pestle in the mortar and wiped her hand on her bibbed apron before walking toward the counter at the center of the shop. "Who did it?"

  Angeline followed Doirbhall up the aisle. "Baron Yakov. At least according to my father."

  Doirbhall, pestle once again in hand, waved it over her shoulder. "What else?"

  Why does she always interrogate me? Angeline resented the relentless questioning. "A demon kidnapped Malcolm from my balcony. Oh, and he proposed. We're now betrothed."