The Book of Ominiue: Starborn (40 page)

‘So, when are you singing?’ Hanniver asked, Kíe’arathorne chewed for a second, allowing himself to finish his mouthful of oxen-meat before replying.

‘I doubt I’ll sing tonight,’ he confessed. ‘It is a big celebration that was not planned. If they had every journeyman, training apprentice and master singing we would be here all week. Besides Christov, there are far greater singers amongst us tonight.’

‘What’ve you been up to since returning to your home?’ Hanniver had to speak louder as a new song began.

‘Reading mostly,’ the scholar half shrugged as he took some more meat from a plate and began to chew on it. ‘It was an unexpected visit so I also helped the masters with some copying.’ He pulled a face to show his dislike for that job, ‘but now I prepare to ride back to Danarie to retrieve my belongings. There I’ll wait for the replacement from Taríth; if
orden
are not there already, then I return here and wait for your call for the apprenticeship.’

They sat in silence for much of the night, listening to the songs. A haunting instrumental tune began to play, far different from the joyful atmosphere the musicians had created. The song drove the listeners into a respectful silence and when a female voice joined the chorus the crowd all held their breath for her voice was by far the fairest. When it ended they began the teaching songs. Kíe sighed deeply as his eyes lingered on the singer, watching her as she retired to one of the masters’ tables.

Hanniver flicked him with his hand, pulling the scholar from his gaze, ‘Come, now ask her to dance,’ at that Kíe’arathorne almost turned red under his thin fur coat before smiling broadly.

‘Only if you join me.’

‘For the ladies!’ Hanniver agreed and they both rose up.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Hendingson warned the Brigadier. ‘Get back here!’ Hanniver looked across at the dancing natives, his eyes glanced over a few pretty females before he sighed and returned to his seat. Kíe’arathorne also went to sit back down but Hanniver pushed him back.

‘You,’ He pointed firmly to his friend, ‘go and ask her to dance.’ The journeyman gave a sheepish smile before he was lost in the crowd. A couple of times Shayne thought he saw him with the female lionman in question, but the crowd was packed and most faces were quickly lost. 

As the night wore on Shayne sat silently listening to the music, once again becoming oblivious to his surroundings. He looked beyond the dancing natives, sinking into his thoughts which followed the beat of the drums. In his mind he saw Níurthan, the odd and strange manner in-which he held himself. The weird glint he occasionally saw behind the mask and the power that seemed to emanate from him.

‘He is
not
the Afrada ala Hama!’ he heard someone shout, it sounded almost distant, but it was powerful enough to break Shayne from his daydream.

‘
Shame
!’ a native human called out as the guards held him back, his fist was raised at Shayne as his eyes stared threateningly into his. Shayne rose from his seat, the other Earthmen followed his lead. ‘
Shame
on you, you
claim
the title so you can claim our
lands
!’ the human cried out. ‘Do not trust him. Do not fall for his emptiness, for he will be our doom!’ as the man called out and the focus of the crowd was upon him another native human broke the guard and charged at Shayne with a curved short blade in hand. Most people were so intent upon the outspoken one that they did not see the assassin, except for Shayne. With the ease of ingrained training he sidestepped the man rushing at him. Shayne then grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it. He applied pressure to the wrist lock, the sound of bone snapping caused the native to drop his blade and cry out in pain. He then released the man who fell to the ground cradling his arm. The guards picked him up and dragged both the natives away.

The crowd fell into stunned silence at the sight of the Starborn quickly and easily dispensing an armed opponent in the same manner and speed as a member of the Kerwin monks.

Kíe’arathorne pushed his way through the crowd and back to their table. He placed his hand upon Shayne’s shoulder; a question of concern upon his gentle face as he looked down upon the Earthman. Shayne pulled away from the journeyman and sat back down. He was the only person who saw the attack before it was too late, not even the android saw it, though that might have been because of his classification as a Star Born Victim. Shayne knew he was lucky; the would-be assassin was nothing more than a thug; if he was properly trained it would most likely have ended poorly.

‘I’m glad you saw him,’ Hanniver smiled weakly at Shayne. ‘You move pretty quick for an old bloke.’ The music began to play again, in an attempt to bring order back to the festivities, and slowly the people did fall back into celebration.

‘What good are these guards if they allowed that to happen?’ Hendingson glared at the armoured humans and lionmen around him. Two senior guards had since appeared, both extremely fierce lionmen; one of which had an even angrier looking Dikean-wolf. The other guards shifted uneasily as the two looked accusingly at them, but the effect was renewed vigilance.

‘Should we return to the castle?’ the Brigadier suggested.

‘And show the natives we’re afraid? I would rather have my eyes gouged out.’

‘Yes, I’m sure I’d be happy having my eyes gouged out to save myself from embarrassment,’ Hanniver replied. The general glared at the officer with the level of intolerance he was famous for. They decided to stay for half-an-hour longer before retiring. Afterwards Kíe’arathorne and the guards accompanied them to the palace where the Imperial Shytarda’s took over; the look of displeasure towards their city kin unmistakable with the dismissal given. The city guards retired in shame except for two who escorted Kíe’arathorne back to the Halls. Shayne returned to his quarters, exhausted he decided to go straight to bed, but the rush of the attack kept him awake for hours. It was well past midnight before he finally drifted off to sleep.

He was standing in the field, looking out into the distance towards the slight rise; he knew the man with the eyes of light was out there. The black fox jumped across into his sight, its front paws ready for flight. It looked up at him with its dark brown eyes and wide grin. It then bounded playfully towards the hill and Shayne followed after it. He felt a joy as he ran and he smiled as he felt the long grass pass him by.

They slowed as they came to the rise, where the darkness of night gave way to blinding light. The native stood upon the rise, his back facing them. Shayne took a few steps towards him, expecting him to turn, but instead he heard a shifting sound from behind; alarmed he spun around just in time to see the assassin. The native charged, throwing himself on top of the Starborn; a curved knife in hand. Shayne grabbed the man’s wrists but he was too strong and he fell backwards. He tried to call out to the fox but it was gone along with the field, and he was now alone in the entertainment court.

He struggled with the man, he felt weak and was unable to fight him off. A blue light approached and the air around grew still and cold. Shayne felt the hairs on his arms rise. He looked over the assassin’s shoulder to see the black haired man with glowing tattoos standing over him, a great black staff in his hands.

‘Help me!’ Shayne cried.

The man looked impassively down upon him, ‘Why? No one else will,’ they struggled as the stranger watched on, finally they rolled over and Shayne was able to lift a fist and knock the native unconscious; the man sagged lifeless to the ground, his dagger slipping from his limp hand. Shayne lifted himself up, breathing heavily. He turned to where the dark haired men stood just seconds before but no one was there, glancing around Shayne’s eyes caught the soft blue glow in the distance. Up the road stood the other one with his silver hair flowing gently in the wind: watching Shayne with steel eyes of blue. Once their eyes met he turned his head towards the tower and raised his hand, pointing to its top. Shayne followed his outstretched arm to see an eagle gliding high above. He glanced back at the stranger but he was gone.

He sighed deeply as his attention returned to the court. The gathering area and the unconscious assassin were gone, instead replaced by a dark forest. In a sudden series of flashes, a figure appeared and rushed at him, though it never appeared to move. Within a few heart beats the empty sockets of the masked monk was standing before the Starborn; so close that their noses were almost touching.  Shayne recoiled back in horror at the unexpected speed of the monk, a dread filled by the unnatural movement and the faceless stare consumed him. He tried to jump back but the monk lurched forward like a wild animal, all within a flash and he roared as his form changed into a great black lion, claws extended and teeth bared in rage as it bore down upon him.

Shayne jumped out of bed. Gasping for air he grasped at his chest, pain searing from his rapidly beating heart. The black lion terrified him and the dreams troubled him. He opened his
wristcom
, it displayed 2:33 in the morning. Every night since being in the city he had awoken at the same time after dreaming about the tower. He ran his hand down the front of his face and over his beard. Unease grew within him as it always did when something he could not rationally understand occurred. He connected to the
Oxford
, which glowed happily at him. He had spoken with it the past three nights now, both to calm himself from the nightmares and because he knew this privilege would be gone once they were back at settlement.

The morning brought the signing of the common-law draft and a paving for a constitution between the Western Empire and the citizens of Casader. It was not that simple. A few people thought of new issues or requests overnight and two more things had to be implemented in the document. Each person’s copy of then had be altered before they all signed them. By the time the signing was finalised it was an hour passed noon. The UeVarda wanted them to stay for a few hours but General Hendingson declined the request. They unhappily agreed to evacuate the Wayel-Éaa settlement within a week, which was enough time given their technology but none-the-less made for a hectic and troubling move.

When their hoverplane arrived the UeVarda walked out into the grounds with them. He now stood proudly and with no assistance except for a walking staff. When they reached the makeshift landing pad his breath was laboured, but his spirits were high.

The UeVarda gripped Shayne by the shoulder, ‘Afra’hama, you are always welcome in my court.’

‘Thank you, UeVarda.’ Shayne brought his hands together and then out again in farewell, which the king returned.

‘I am terribly sorry for the attack last night, be assured that justice will take place.’

‘I require no apologies, what occurred was hardly the fault of anyone,’ Shayne reasoned. ‘But my superiors have requested that no capital punishment should be given in their judgement. That is our way and our wish.’

‘I will pass the request on Afra’hama. Despite your assurances, it still pains us. Our city shytarda let us down, they let everyone down. The best trained people in all of Kérith-
Árim
and they were fooled by the simplest of tricks. I assure you that any softening of the guard will be rectified.

‘Upon a friendlier note,’ the UeVarda brightened. ‘We host a fighting championship within the next quarter season
[15]
I would be honoured if the Sky Ta’Orians leaders and you would attend as my special guests.’

‘We will be there,’ Shayne bowed.

‘Good, the Journeyman will be able to inform you. I shall set aside our best seats.’ The King then bowed formally to the general and Brigadier as they made their way to the waiting transporter. Hanniver lifted Red Rocket and placed her into a cage strapped to the cargo wall, as the craft was a small-open military machine designed for easy access and departure. The sound of the vehicle brought out the entire population of the palace: servants and special guests, all watched intently as they boarded and were lifted into the skies.

Chapter
11

Cohra-Rhí

“Each country has its own way, its own values; its own soul. To allow an outsider to come and take that away is as devastating as murder if not more so.”
 

                                     -
Á
din-Harnader the Second NidaVarda

The small transporter slowly rose from the ground. It hovered a while as the pilot showed off to the city below; slowly turning south. Shayne looked out from the open door with the wind blowing in is hair. He tripled checked his harness as they banked and watched as the crowds below massed to watch them leave. Many people stood in awe, with their arms shading their eyes; this was the fifth time a transporter had landed in the palace grounds and they continued to flock out of their stores and homes to watch the spectacle. The people directly below held their head gear as the downward force of the hoverplane blew dust and dirt around and others backed away in fear of the machines proximity as well as a strong downward wind pushing them. As they slowly moved away the UeVarda could be seen with his left arm raised in farewell.

The transporter made its way southwards. The pilot looked briefly over his shoulder and shouted. ‘You’re gonna love this Brigadier,’ his face was not visible except for his mouth which beamed with the pride that only a pilot expressed. He then took the machine in a wide arc up to the Whydearfin River; banking right around it so that Shayne and the Brigadier looked down at it with nothing but their fastened seats holding them. Shayne looked down at the great river and falls which followed many paths and twisted in many directions, finally coming together to fall in a massive horseshoe shape; plummeting down and crashing to the pool below before it continued on into the Karmon Lake. The strength and beauty impacted upon Hanniver who shouted out to them as he admired the landscape, not that they could hear him over the roar of the falling water, or the whir of the engines. The transport crossed over the falls before it continued towards the colony. Shayne directed his attention to the fortress city. It looked peaceful sitting upon the Island, where trains of horses and oxen moved steadily to and from, stopping only to look up at the transport flying overhead. They left the city behind as the pilot increased the speed, sending the landscape underneath them into a blur. Their stomachs lurched with an updraft as they crossed the Wayel-Éaa border. The short trip from then onwards was uneventful with nothing but an endless view of tree tops and steadily growing mountains.

Landing at the spaceport and returning to the world of the Earthmen felt strange to Shayne. He did not have to crane his neck to look up at anyone and the structures and buildings seemed painfully basic, with no thought to creating something that appeared comfortable. The more elaborate architecture tended to come after the construction of the
Gateway
, but nothing they would build could be as splendid as the ancient buildings of Dífrun.

The process of breaking everything down had already begun. The farmdroids job was immense and would take the most time to complete; they had already started to transfer their crops to portable labs. All non-important buildings were deconstructed a week earlier when Hanniver and the general had their first meeting from the Island city and knew they could no longer stay. Some of the buildings they decided could be transported as a whole; with the help of the space transporters, but most would be deconstructed and rebuilt. Their time frame would be impossible if not for the horde of working machines they had at their disposal. The soldiers hooked up in their exo-suit battle gear were able to lift many times their weight and work twice as long with half the effort.

Their army transport arrived in the confusion of the deconstruction, led by Canoth Eastman and the Air Vice-Marshal Danto Williams. The only place currently free from being torn apart with their arrival was the spaceport itself. Two space transports were parked at the settlement end of the tarmac; with a much larger capacity they were better suited for transporting large objects than the aircraft transports, as the workload increased the spaceships sent more of their craft down to assist.

Shayne and the others disembarked the hoverplane and made their way across to Williams. Red Rocket was happy to be home and bounded happily around the Brigadier. She yelped loudly with pleasure, wanting to see her mate, Cascade. The air vice-marshal held his hat upon his head and called out over the plane’s engines as they proceeded to shut down.

‘General,’ he roared. ‘We can’t start shipping until we have a ground plan for the location.’ The general leaned in to hear him more clearly; they were nearly ear-to-ear as they talked.

‘We’ll organise a party now and get the surveyors to map,’ he returned.

‘Forrester and I should go into quarantine.’

‘We’ve lifted that for the time being. We don’t have the facilities or manpower; the droids have assessed it as an acceptable risk. I got antibiotics for you and the Starborn; I need you to check the land with us now; considering you marked it.’ 

‘Ok, let’s get ready than,’ the general replied.

‘Starborn!’ the air vice-marshal called out to Shayne. ‘Watch over the droids tearing down the barracks, and make sure there are enough tents to accommodate everyone!’ Shayne saluted and walked off towards the settlement before Williams shouted out after him, his Australian accent carrying over everything. ‘And take that damn rug off your back and change back into
your
proper Starborn uniform!’

Shayne was not pleased. Effectively he was ordered to sit around and watch robots work. Before he set about his duties he decided to clean himself up properly, using the community showers, there he trimmed his beard back and shaved the edges which had grown out, returning his face back to its smart appearance. He also shed the officer uniform for a work dress one, he felt awkward and light without the heavy fur cloak over his shoulders, he had become accustomed to its weight and now he had a continuous nagging feeling that he had forgotten something as a result, but at the same time he was glad to be in his normal uniform, he did not care for the formal look or the native one. He liked simple and he liked not standing out. 

The barracks were massive, consisting of the sleeping quarters for seventy percent of the colony. He overlooked a command robot that was keeping track of buildings being disassembled and tents put up: What materials were salvageable, what had to be re-forged and what was useless. Most of the data was represented in raw statistics as the job was only partially complete and did not require a human supervisor. So Shayne walked amongst the houses and common barracks, passing metal machines as they laboured. The humans were setting up most of the tents; a female sergeant sat at a table and had a checklist for tent loans. It would prove to be cold nights for them for the next few weeks. Even with the summer sun they were at a high altitude and the little heat gained during the day was easily lost at night.

***

The general, air vice-marshal and the surveyors flew to the new site. It was vastly different from their forest settlement; mostly flat and bone dry with the sun beating down upon them and the view to the great dunes reflecting mirages as the heat shimmered from the sand. Their new location lay at the foot of the south-eastern mountain ranges; upon the solid rock. The mountains were not as high as the dividing range, but were large enough to stop the clouds from the southern seas crossing over to provide life-bringing water. The small amount of rain the desert did receive relied on fierce storms to breach the southern mountains, or a cross wind to funnel the weather from the middle kingdoms and into what was known as the
Mouth of the Cohra-Rhí
. Few plants grew on the rocky base, but the shrivelled shrubs and groundcover proved that underwater springs existed in the region; this was further confirmed by the presence of great desert creatures that needed a minimum level of moisture to survive. Initial scans revealed water deposits deep under the hard rock following a water table fed from the mountains above. These underwater deposits were not as large as those in the western deserts but there was enough to support their city.

They began with a basic scan from the hoverplane; sitting above the location the robot surveyor updated the land allotment with the maps within its memory bank. When they landed the two surveyors set about marking locations and producing highly-accurate plans: determining dimensions and ideal placements, best water points and allotting the specialised factions of the colony. The civilian human and droid set up scanners along with deep earth field beacons, moving the scanners around to different locations to scan the region and calculate sites for the township and military instalment.

The new site was metal poor, except for iron ore further up in the ranges. There were no rare-earth deposits worth extracting, but they could easily gain them from other regions including the android settlement they established upon the equator, deep in an uninhabited part of the northern desert. The ore in the Cohra-Rhí would be sufficient for all infrastructure projects for the next ten years and beyond. The droid and female surveyor worked quickly but they needed to travel over a large area. Not just for the colony town but also the farming which would take place. The soil quality was expected for such an arid region. To counter the poor quality, they would need to transport topsoil and infuse with nanocarbon-machines before they can effectively farm the land. Natural enrichment would take more time than the
Gateway
needed, but good land management such as transferring soils and planting certain trees and vegetation and also selecting certain crops would turn the foot of the mountains from a desolate wasteland into a thriving metropolis.

Despite the inhospitable feel the land seemed ideal for their needs. It was completely unsuited for human habitation without sufficient technology levels, reducing any legal disagreements of their settlement in the future. The completed survey plans were communicated to the star officer’s tablets; there was some basic conversation, where the civilian showed the best places for what infrastructure before the general approved the plan and let them continue on with their work. The landing strip would be the first thing built, with the need for precision flatness for some of the larger and more clumsy craft. The low wind factor of the desert meant the spaceport did not have to be as long for non-pivot-engine vehicles, only time would tell if sand storms would be an issue.

While the surveyors marked out land on the ground, Danto Williams and the general walked a half a kilometre up the mountainside. Once they stopped their trek they turned to watch the civilian and robot working below them, the old general puffed slightly as he gazed down upon them.

‘So what is the verdict with the Starborn?’ Danto asked.

‘Completely independent in thought,’ the general replied. The Australian star-officer sighed, brushing back his light brown hair and blinking in the sun, he could already feel the harsh heat beating upon his skin.

‘He’s quite ingenious,’ the general admitted. ‘I watched him reduce the time for an argument; something that could’ve been drawn out for days, to half-an-hour.’

‘Doesn’t that bother you?’ the air vice-marshal looked at the old man. ‘Seriously, he’s cunning and smart, he can run rings around most of us, he sees so much, but he has nothing human in him. He’s dead; which makes him dangerous.’

‘He holds no ambition.’

‘I don’t believe that. If that was true he wouldn’t act as he is,’ Williams corrected.  ‘We can’t trust him, not now not ever. It would be like trusting a sociopath to babysit your kids.’ The general laughed at the comment but Williams found no amusement in it.

‘He’s a bit sociopathic, isn’t he?’ Thorn contemplated.

‘My point exactly!’ Danto pointed to the general at the same time. ‘He may be willing to do as he’s told, but what’s to stop him from doing what he wants?’ He raised his hand as another thought came and he changed the pitch in his voice. ‘Why do we use Star Born Victims in the military?’

‘You’re talking about high level combat training, with assassination status, but Shayne isn’t trained for that, and he never will be.’

‘The
Starborn
,’ Danto emphasised the word displeased that his superior used his first name, ‘is still Starborn, regardless of whether he’s trained to fight and kill as a SB, or as an ordinary soldier, or not at all. And we can’t hope for the chance that he will feel again. As far as I’m concerned he’s still Starborn until he learns to feel, and if he can’t feel then he should always be treated as one.’

‘I think the locals will make that more difficult for us.’ The general glanced sideways at his companion with a knowing look, ‘but I understand what you’re getting at and don’t worry, he will return to the more boring and ordinary activities befitting a Starborn grunt.’ The air vice-marshal looked slightly more at ease with that statement. ‘But we’ve been invited to a fighting tournament. So we’ll have wait a little while longer. But while he’s in the settlement, definitely.’ Williams shook his head, Hendingson did not see the issue that he did; he honestly believed that they may pay for that one day.