Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sarian People, Places, and Words
About the Author
Publications from Bella Books, Inc
LaRenna and Krell exchanged simple nods then apprentice and master reformed as lovers: tangled, panting and groping, caressing and tasting in a frenzy of denied desires. The mental experience fulfilled, the physical, which Krell took ravenously, defied description and they reveled in the insensibility of both until LaRenna’s passionate internal cries reduced to an aural murmur that parted their mouths. Only then did they indulge in the joy of slow discovery, delighting in the repetition of what felt so true. Afterward, Krell lingered with her, stroking her face, whispering lover’s fancy about her beauty until reality and guilt swept in.
“How could I be so stupid?” Krell’s face pinched with revulsion as she pushed away.
“What?” Before LaRenna could prop on one arm Krell had risen and was dressing.
“I took something from you that I can never give back.” Krell spoke over her shoulder as she tugged on her boots. “I’ve broken every barrier, crossed every line.”
“You took nothing I wasn’t willing to give.” LaRenna, shivering from the sudden removal of companion warmth, drew into the sleep corner and sat upon the bedrolls.
“You weren’t ready to lose your virginity yet, third Kimshee, and you certainly shouldn’t have wasted such a precious commodity on the likes of me.” Krell couldn’t bear even the briefest of glances at LaRenna. She smelled like commitment. The room reeked of commitment as well—the safe, satisfying, stay at home, fresh cut flower joy of two women growing old together. It was nauseating. Krell had to leave and so left, ignoring LaRenna’s calls to return so they could discuss things. She was dirty. Krell was dirty. What they had done was insanely wrong. Yes, Kimshees had sex, but they never made love.
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Copyright© 2005 by Jeanne G’Fellers
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Editor: Anna Chinappi
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For Mamaw, who was Taelach tall and strong and unconditionally loving of her eldest granddaughter.
Acknowledgements
No Sister of Mine and all the novels in The Silver Kinship series derived from my need to escape. While my reasons for escaping have changed throughout the years, the need still remains as does the drive to tell the stories of those I met during my escapes. These women live in a plane I reach simply by closing my eyes. Theirs is a less than perfect existence—perfection must be horribly boring to write about—but it is a world built upon my wildest fantasies and deepest fears, a creation that would not have come about if it hadn’t been for those dear to me, especially my mother. Thanks, Mom, for hiding a copy of this work from those who threatened to destroy it and for encouraging my writing when no one else seemed to care.
Virginia Marion and Kay Bridges have also been instrumental in developing my writing. Without their encouragement and their “You go, girl!” attitude I never would have had the strength to keep churning away at this novel and my college education.
To all those at Bella, including Linda Hill, Becky Arbogast and, of course, my editor Anna Chinappi, I say thank you for putting up with the myriad of questions from a newbie and the ecstatic, girlish squeals of a woman learning her first manuscript has been accepted.
Finally, I would like to express love and gratitude for my partner, my favorite Gunny at ease, the one I love always and all ways—Anna Koetter. Thank you for your unconditional support, for your assistance with child-wrangling, for taking the household helm when my graduate courses take place at night, and for your daily office drudgery that allows me to continue my schooling and writing. And last but certainly not least, thank you for encouraging me to submit No Sister of Mine to just one more publisher. You were right, my love, Bella is where it belonged.
Prologue
By the late twenty-third century, numerous stars in the Milky Way were known to have orbiting planets capable of sustaining life. One of these, Sixty-One Cygni, a yellow sun with a planet similar in orbit and mass to Earth, intrigued human researchers and entrepreneurs alike.
Entrepreneurs, given a head start by the unrest between the Earth and Moon/Mars Alliances, won the competition for exploration, establishing a mining colony in the mineral-rich, frozen subsurface of Sixty-One Cygni’s sixth planet, which later came to be known as Farstar. A small group of researchers soon followed and began studying the second planet in the system—then known to be inhabited by a humanoid species calling itself the Autlach. When natural disaster struck the colony, the human colonists fled to this planet to await rescue—one which never came. As time passed, they began to intermingle then interbreed with the Autlach, forever changing the genetic makeup of a society, one which was steeped in religious teachings of the deity Raskhallak. The Raskhallak teachings demanded the Autlach follow a strict canon of daily prayer and obedience. A good man ruled his family with an iron hand and taught his sons to be future rulers. His daughters were taught subservience from birth. Any deviation from their duty, any sin (so Raskhallak claimed), evidenced in the birth of an albino child. Fathers flogged their daughters for bearing such a babe; husbands destroyed the evidence, sometimes killing both mother and child to hide their embarrassment.
As heinous as this was, such an event remained rare until the second generation of Human-Autlach hybrids. In that generation, a recessive human gene made itself known, producing a mutation when present in both parents. The resulting daughters—pale, blue-eyed, sterile and telepathic—were everything the russet Autlach were not. Rejected by their families, they found acceptance in each other, forming small clans that kept to the high mountains far above the Autlach.
Centuries of misunderstanding melded into stricter religious doctrine, giving the pale Autlach daughters, now called Taelachs, unwarranted reputation as cruel
witches. They were killed at birth unless rescued by a Kimshee—a Taelach sister trained to sense Taelach fetuses through telepathy. Sparse in numbers but determined to survive, the Taelach clung to their existence, eventually rediscovering the history of their origins and with it, the technology that brought humanity to Sixty-One Cygni. This technology also brought the Taelach together under one governing body— The Silver Kinship. Now capable of securing infant sisters from their disinterested birth parents, Kinship numbers skyrocketed almost as quickly as Taelach technology advanced. They were now able to explore Sixty-One Cygni and colonize the worlds surrounding it, bringing about an era of harmony that lasted until the unthinkable happened in a peaceful society—civil war.
A faction bent on the enslavement of the Autlach rebelled against the Kinship, shaking the very foundations of Taelach culture. Amidst the chaos, a new leader rose to power. Young as she was unrelenting in her love for the Kinship, Belsas Exzal took the Kinship’s reins, soon squelching the rebellion and sentencing the conspirators to exile on Farstar’s prison colony. Cance Creiloff, the leader of the rebellion and former comrade of Belsas Exzal, promised to return, a pledge that grew into vowed revenge as she and the other conspirators were branded with the Taelach symbol for traitor.
So ended the Taelach civil war and began the six-decade reign of Belsas Exzal as Taelach of All. A strong, vibrant leader, Belsas guides the Silver Kinship through a decade and a half of continued problems, including an Autlach uprising against the Kinship and the invasion of Iralian Commitment—an alien reptilian species with the macabre reputation for feasting on living enemy flesh. Now bound together against a common enemy, the Taelach and Autlach form an uneasy alliance—one as vulnerable to old prejudices as it is strengthened by fear.
This tale begins one decade after the Taelach civil war.
Chapter One
Take the child of your resemblance. There is no place for her in the limits of the Autlach existence.
—Taelach saying
Fizzelle tried to focus on the troubled face that lingered above her own. The pains in her abdomen had subsided, leaving her feeling quite empty inside. “Where’s the child?” she muttered. “I want my baby.”
“You’re too weak.” Laiman pulled the blankets to her chin, smoothed her whorlish curls, then looked toward the small, crying bundle nuzzled in the midwife’s arms.
Fizzelle’s dark eyes glazed with want. “Laiman, the child. Let me see it.”
The midwife shook her head a decided no.
“Sleep now, Zelle. I’ll tend the baby.”
“What’s wrong with the babe? Laiman? Why can’t I . . .” Her voice trailed off as he eased the sleep smoker mask over her nose and mouth.
“Forgive me.” Laiman’s heart broke as her hold loosened then fell away. “But it’s easier to forget what you never see.”
The midwife clutched the child tight and turned toward the doorway. “They’ll be here soon. I’ll watch her until they come.”
“Wait.”
“Laiman, no.” She pulled just out of his reach. “Don’t make memories.”
“They’re already made. Now let me see my daughter.” He took the baby from her resistant arms and cradled it in his own. “She has her mother’s round face and button nose.”
“And Taelach hair and eyes,” reminded the midwife as she forced the infant from him. “The infant must go. She’s one of them.”
“But what do I tell Fizzelle? She’s longed for another child.”
The midwife scowled. Further delay would mean contact, unavoidable conversation with those she detested. “She already has two. One loss won’t make that much difference. Mothers have endured this for eons. A little sacrifice won’t harm her, or you. Let it go, Laiman. There’ll be others—”
Two imposing shadows appeared just outside the door, hesitating to share an embrace before they entered the small birthing chamber. The smaller of the pair approached the now gray-faced midwife and reached a slender hand toward the baby. “A beautiful child.” Her whisper was thickly accented. “She will be treasured.” With an approving nod to her partner, she pulled the young one into her arms, delighting when a tiny hand grasped her finger and pulled it to a suckling mouth. Eyes reflective with understanding, she spoke something in the Taelach tongue Laiman couldn’t comprehend, drew her cloak around the baby, and departed.
Once the first Taelach was safely away, the second, room-dominating figure pulled back her hood, revealing a strong-featured face. White hair came into view, white hair that was cropped razor short save for the two braids that hung from her right temple. She gazed at Laiman, her blue eyes reflective as well, but almost cold in their intent. “Does the child have a name?”
Laiman froze at the demanding voice, staring at its owner.
“The child? Has she been named?”
The midwife broke Laiman’s silence. “The mother said a girl was to be named LaRenna.”
The Taelach nodded slowly, as if digesting the bit of information. “Then LaRenna it shall be.”
Laiman grabbed the arm of the dark-cloaked figure in desperation. “My wife? What do I—” Fear swelled into such consuming anger he shook. “You can’t take our child!” The steady stare that met his sent a spine-tingling sensation of calm washing over him. He released his handhold then stepped back, astonished by his sudden inexplicable passivity.
“The child is Taelach,” came the sedate explanation from the remaining figure. “She was born with a warrior’s spirit and a seer’s mind. Could you teach her to use her gifts as we can? She belongs with her own kind. It is for her benefit and safety she becomes one of us.” Hood now drawn, the Taelach paused on the birth room threshold, her muscular shoulders leaving room for little else. “Full separation is best. Tell your woman the child is dead.” The rhythmic clicking of her boot heels faded into the early morning mists, replaced, only briefly, by a quickly answered infant’s bawl of hunger. Taelach babies were taught to cry in silence. Laiman, heavy-hearted, turned back to his wife, wishing he could learn the same.
Chapter Two
Listen to your Raisers. Through their wisdom and experience you will rise above Autlach prejudices.
—Taelach saying
Malley leaned out the window, eager for a better view of the courtyard below. “They’re posting! It’s about time. Where do you think they’ll send us? How about a look, LaRenna?” Malley turned to see her roommate closed-eyed and round-shouldered over the music recorder in her petite lap. The earpieces blocked all outside noise as she hummed with the music. Malley sighed and snatched a pillow from the sleeping corner. It grazed the side of LaRenna’s face, knocking an earpiece from her curl-covered head. “Hey! You gonna meditate all day or do we get to see our posts?”
“They’re posting? It’s still early, isn’t it?” LaRenna set the recorder on her chair and joined Malley by the window. “Let’s give it a few minutes to clear out.”
“How crowded can it get? There are only eighty of us up for posting this training term.”
“And all but two of us are down there right now.” LaRenna glanced at the courtyard. “Besides, Grandmaster Quall is there. You want one of her once-overs?”
Malley’s nose wrinkled with disdain. “Not particularly. Quall is still after me because I sneaked out of an Autlach customs seminar.”
“You should’ve stayed.” LaRenna’s finger spotted one of the closures of her roommate’s polished tunic buttons. “It was a damn sight more interesting than that Engineering Maintenance trainer you took in its place.”
“That’s what you say.”
LaRenna gave a cherubic grin only she could manage. “With that class on your records the only thing you’ll EVER be doing is scanning cell reading boards. And it’ll probably be on a repair dock.”
“What’s wrong with a repair dock?” Malley’s mouth puckered.
“Too tame.”
“Tame?” The remark earned LaRenna a sour glare.
“Exactly! No thr
ill. No challenge.”
“I’m sure the Iralians would be more than honored by your presence at the truce line.” Malley peered hard at LaRenna. “What’s it been now, twenty passes? You’d rather post there I suppose?”
A stray flounce of hair fell across LaRenna’s dimpled chin as she shook her head. “Staring down scale backs? Not me. I’ve a sense of adventure. An explorer vessel is more my style.”
“For you, maybe, but not me. Besides, explorer vessels have little call for Kimshees, or”—Malley made a dramatic pause and poked LaRenna’s upper arm—“snipers either.”
“Sniper?”
“Come on, Renna.” Malley chortled. “Everybody knows your perfect kill ratio on your last three plasma bow exams.”
“I didn’t tell you that.”
“Didn’t have to. Everyone in your training squad’s pissed that you ruined the point curve. And seeing as I’m your roommate . . .” Malley shrugged.
“They should have practiced more.”
“Practice my eye! The only thing you’ve ever practiced hard at is a recorder box. Oh yeah, and bitterwine.”
LaRenna crossed her arms. “Not true! I had to work to get a decent score in linguistics and you know it.”
“Decent?” Malley snorted indignantly and pulled a hair from the corner of LaRenna’s pouting mouth. “You scored fluent in ten Aut dialects.”
“So? You have to be good at something. I seem to recall you gliding through engineering courses I barely scored proficiency in. I’ll never get pilot qualified at this rate.”
“It fascinates me. That’s all.”
“And bores me.” LaRenna’s lighter mood seemed to return. “Too many dry numbers and schematics to memorize.”
Malley’s slowly reacting features started to pull with concern. “Guess we like different things, don’t we?”
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