The Blood-Rage (1) PROLOGUE The decelerating ship was closing with the galaxy at a relative velocity twenty times that of light. As the fifty-mile- long dreadnaught plunged past the first stars and dove through the tachyon barrier, a phantom presence of it could have been seen for a short time as it entered the normal universe and began to hit and annihilate the rarefied hydrogen gas in its path-- these atoms flashed into bright incandescence, leaving an expanding trail of hard radiation behind. Soon, the million-mile-long plume of its white exhaust could also have been seen. Soon that died to just a soft blue glow. The ship went on through the outer fringe of the galaxy, using its scanners to deeply probe and analyze all of the energy from near zero frequency to beyond the gravity spectrum. Suddenly the ship changed direction 180 degrees and became inertialess, its equivalent rest-mass zero. Simultaneously, its gigantic engine awoke with a power almost beyond comprehension. The blue glow of the exhaust turned white and then went invisible as it spewed out concentrated energy in the x-ray spectrum. Being inertialess, its acceleration was infinite. It disappeared, as if winking out of existence. One hour later the ship was well into the center of the galaxy, a distance of about fifty thousand light-years. Yet, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. It paused, searching and probing, then turned thirty degrees to the galaxy's radial axis and disappeared again. When the ship next stopped, it was at the periphery of the opposite end of the galaxy and two hundred miles above the surface of a planet that orbited a binary star system. The stop was short, 3.7 microseconds. And then the ship disappeared once more. � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � CHAPTER 1 � All Agonians owe first allegiance to the planet Agon. In any decision involving a choice between what is good for the planet and what may be good for anything else, the planet's well-being always comes first. Thus Agonians call the planet their "first love." -From a reading of the First Law of Agon- � She increased her vigilance, her eyes quickly scanning the empty-appearing countryside. Creatures of violent death were awakening out there . . . somewhere . . . everywhere. She could feel it. The feeling was like the wind that was now teasing her hair, sharp and cold, almost icy. Agon's predators were hungry, particularly now that winter was over and they needed new food to replenish that which was consumed by their slow metabolism during hibernation. Change was coming, change, the second name of their planet, Agon. � And everything alive here has adapted to violent change. Patra shivered. This old and recurring thought seemed to float through her mind each time Friosan's-Time was done and the reprieve of the present season, Fleeing-Winter, was upon her and the clan. She shivered again and hugged the diode-cloth closer around her body. Although the time was mid-morning, the air was still cold as it came knifing across the great plains in that desolate area between the equator and about thirty degrees latitude. Here were thousands upon thousands of miles of unbroken land, that part of the planet that had been worn down from once tall mountains to a flat, monotonous smoothness. This had been done billions of years ago by extreme and rapid temperature changes coupled with cyclonic winds that had torn at the climactically stressed rocks. It was an ancient land, old not only in terms of geological sameness, but in the evolution of its life-forms as well. Suddenly she brought the huge mu-lynx she was riding to a quick halt and looked spinward, her head cocked as if listening. After a moment her daughter, Second-dagger, stopped beside her; and Patra said to the younger one, "There's a plain's leopard nearby." The older woman then brought her hand up to shield her brown eyes from the mid-morning suns, searching the vast, grass-covered plains beyond. She was weary from the long hunting trip of the last sixty miles and felt that their luck in killing that deer some four hours ago--a rare thing for this time of the cycle--probably would not happen again this day. She turned to check the carcass tied to the back of her mu-lynx, found it still securely bound, and then returned her gaze back to the land, listening intensely to the mind of her cat. "Do you see it?" Second-dagger asked, her tense voice reflecting a new alertness as she, too, scanned the land around them. "No, it's out there somewhere, though. My cat smelled it, and you'd be aware that yours did, too, if you paid more attention to its mind-whisper rather than daydreaming." She kneed her mount to the left and aimed for a small hill in the distance. Her daughter followed, urging her beast to greater speed until they were once again riding side-by-side. "I'm sorry," Second-dagger said, looking sideways like a scolded child. "As usual, you caught me again. I was feeding my senses on the beauty of Agon and thus cut off the inner awareness. Stupid. It won't happen again." Patra turned forward to hide her disapproving gaze and chuckled without humor, "Ha. You mustn't forget your childhood lessons. Beauty is one of Agon's lures to catch the young and kill them. It gathers one's attention when that focus should be on the dangers that hide beyond." Soon Patra crested the hill and shot down its far slope. And there, in front of them without further warning, was the leopard! It turned from its forward stalking to glare at them with eyes that were red with hunger. Beyond the animal, a man stood tall and naked, his back to them. Startled, yet taking in the entire scene in one glance, Patra veered her sure-footed mu-lynx and swept by both the leopard and the man. She noticed that her daughter's mount followed close upon the heels of her cat. "Damn, mother-teacher!" shouted Second-dagger, glancing backwards. "We almost ran over them. What the hell . . ." "Turn back toward him, daughter. If he's an enemy, it'll be an easy kill since he's afoot. But watch the leopard; it's hungry." She knee-pressured her beast into a turn and made a wide circle, all the while slowing her speed. "Gods!" Second-dagger exclaimed, "Isn't he a magnificent specimen?" "The leopard or the man?" "Are you trying to be funny? What do you think I meant?" Patra smiled. "He certainly doesn't leave much hidden." She noticed Second-dagger's responding laugh sounded strained. "Watch out!" Second-dagger exclaimed. The leopard snarled and charged. In unison, Patra and her daughter drew their daggers and threw them at the beast. Both weapons hit home just as the leopard leaped for the throat of Patra's cat. But the huge and powerful mu-lynx had already started to obey its rider's mental command. It spun in mid-stride and swatted the leopard with a sharp-clawed paw, causing the attacking animal to fly backwards five feet. There it slammed into the ground, quivered, and died. Patra didn't know if its death was from their knives or from a broken neck . . . and didn't really care. Both women jerked savagely on the elastic lanyards that were attached to their wrists and the handles of their weapons. The daggers snapped back into their palms. Then, skirting the dead leopard, they rode nearer the man, finally stopping when thirty feet away. Second-dagger adjusted the long, black folds of her diode- cloth so that it once again covered her bare legs and then threw back the hood to uncover her face. The wind grabbed her long, red hair and whipped it off to the side. "Mother-teacher!" she exclaimed, "He has no weapon. This leopard would have killed him if we hadn't interceded." Patra nodded, saying, "And look at the grass on which he stands. It's withered and black, as if burned. What goes on here?" "I've never seen a warrior without his sword." There was a strain of awe in her daughter's voice. Patra raised her own voice and spoke to the male's backside, "You there, turn to face us." The man didn't move. She sat waiting. Finally, growing more impatient, she broke the silence with, "Daughter, this inaction is gaining us nothing. You stay here while I circle him. Kill him if he attacks." With growing uneasiness, Patra moved her now nervous mu-lynx to the right of the stranger and guided the beast slowly around the dead grass on which he stood. She stroked the red fur of her cat and studied the man's tall frame as she moved, her gaze missing nothing. She noted that his muscle definition showed a capability of awesome strength, even though he appeared relaxed. In truth, she mused silently, never have I seen a more splendid male. If we have to kill him, I'll mourn. When she completed a full circle and had again stopped her mount beside Second-dagger, she slapped her thigh and spat, "I didn't recognize him, daughter. He's neither friend nor enemy. But the strangest part is he didn't once follow me with his eyes." She felt her mu-lynx tremble from the radiated emotion that she could no longer hold in check. "To be ignored is frustrating." She thought: Is this some sort of game that he plays? Second-dagger suggested, "Let's ride to the front of him. I want to see his face, too." Patra nodded and followed carefully behind her daughter. Stopping again, Second-dagger raised her arm and, with the standard greeting between warriors, said, "Suns'-rise to you sword. May your enemies fear you this turn. Now explain yourself. Why are you standing here like this? Why weaponless?" Patra watched the wind play with his dark hair. It blew the unruly strands around his eyes and ears. Yet he made no attempt to finger-comb it back. He just stood there unmoving, gazing vacantly out into the distance and not answering. Now and then, his body shivered from the cold. Second-dagger lowered her arm and with a puzzled and questioning look asked, "What's wrong with him, mother-teacher?" Patra frowned as she gazed intensely at the immobile male. Noting his blank stare, she said solemnly, "He appears to be sick. Look at his dead eyes; they stare at nothing." Danger! her mind screamed silently. This follows no known pattern. Is it a trap? Second-dagger snapped her head back toward the stranger and slid her hand down to her dagger where she fingered the elastic lanyard attached to its handle. "Why don't you answer?" she yelled at the man. She moved her mu-lynx closer, within weapon throwing range. The stranger remained unresponsive. Second-dagger then raised her voice in a display of fury that was so typical of the younger woman. "I'm a dagger of Agon. Look at me! I'll not be ignored." "Careful," Patra warned softly. "Don't overlook his strength. He could crush your bones with one grasp." With a light pressure of her feet, she also edged her mu-lynx closer, thinking that if this man was on a mate-hunt, the approach was unfair to them and dangerous to him. One doesn't trifle with a dagger of Agon in this way. She then sat waiting for many tense heartbeats, looking at the stranger with growing puzzlement and suspicion, for his stance and manner didn't change. A short time later, Patra sensed Second-dagger's breathing quicken, as if the younger woman had mind-felt her own excitement and dread. Second-dagger's nostrils suddenly flared as she said, "How can this be? No sword of Agon would ever be caught without his weapon. This man is weak or insane. We're going to have to kill him." She drew her dagger slowly. "Yes," Patra confirmed, as she watched her daughter's battle-hardened gaze intensify, "that's the sentence of the Second Law." Damn that necessary law, she thought. It took my first-born, and I�ve never been the same since. Because they were both highly skilled in killing--had to be to have lived this long--she knew Second-dagger must now be concentrating on the stranger's body so as to detect any tell-tale movements of his muscles, just as she had been trained to do since childhood. � Now, she thought, if only she can keep her anger in check. But, unfortunately, she--herself--was finding it more and more difficult to think clearly with her own anger that was building inside. She didn't want to kill anyone today, not when she had felt so at peace with herself since early morning. And, for her, a feeling of peace was rare. She paused, thinking, trying to control the heat of that rage; it was rising like a gorge in her throat. What horrible affliction possesses this one? she wondered. I've never seen a warrior behave this way. She came to a decision then and spoke with a calmness she didn't really feel, "Cut him, but be careful. He could kill you easily with his hands. For one who has lost his sword, this all could be a way to lure a potential victim within grasping distance." But even having said that, she suddenly began to have second thoughts about the death of this male. For although the laws that governed the rationals of Agon were unyielding, they were, in rare times, sometimes open to interpretation. All the weak must die, she thought, all the weak . . . ? She shook her head, trying to dislodge the nagging doubt, knowing that indecision had killed many a good warrior. Still . . . caution tugged at her mind. She noticed Second-dagger's mu-lynx swishing its short, red tail, as it grew nervous from feeling the charged emotion around it. Quickly, she mind-linked with the beast and heard the echo of her daughter's mind-shout. JUMP. Second-dagger kicked the mu-lynx, and the cat sprang. The beast's pointed ears were drawn back, its eight-inch fangs were exposed, and its three-inch claws were bristling from outstretched paws. In midair, the suns-light flashed off the blade of Second- dagger's weapon. In the same moment, Patra heard another echo of a mind-shout: My kill. The sharp claws retracted, just missing the man's head. A split second later, Second-dagger's knife slid along the side of his neck, leaving a long line of red as she and the beast, just brushing the man's shoulder, swept by. She then quickly spun her cat around, causing the black fabric of her diode-cloth to fan outward and expose her long, golden legs. In another leap her daughter was again beside him. Reaching down, she grabbed his hair and viciously pulled back his unresisting head. While putting the dagger to his exposed throat, she snarled, "Speak to me sword, or I'll carry your head back to my father-teacher as proof of your weakness." He still didn't reply. Patra couldn't help but wince as Second-dagger looked up with obvious confusion in her young eyes and asked with an apparent catch in her throat, "Again?" Without hesitation, she said, "Yes. Cut him once more. Watch his eyes when you do. See if they move." Second-dagger bent lower from her perch and slowly drew the dagger across the man's stomach. Patra guessed the resulting cut was about an eighth of an inch deep. Blood ran down to stain his abdomen and legs. The man open his mouth, but his eyes didn't move. "Again," she ordered harshly. Another cut, chest this time. A sound emitted from his mouth. It sounded like an "oh" to Patra. "His eyes don't move," her daughter snarled and cut him once more, quickly, now with more anger behind it. "His weakness sickens me." "That's because you've never seen this kind of helplessness before, daughter." "Have you?" "Not this kind. No." No, thank the Gods. Time seemed suspended to Patra as she sat there like a statue, not breathing, jaw muscles tight and aching. Think, you fool, she chided herself silently. Don't give into the blood- rage. Finally, she released her pent-up breath in a noisy gust and said, "Hold your blade." She then reached up to wipe the cold sweat from her upper lip, thinking: In truth, that was close. Lusting for his end, I almost gave in to the rage and had him killed. Wrong! Wrong. As Patra kneed her mu-lynx forward, she was suddenly struck with another thought: Strange . . . my daughter's mu-lynx was going to kill him, yet they never try to harm humans. It's as if the beast didn't know the man "was" human. One more clue that there's something badly wrong here. This bothered her more than she wished, for the world was supposed to be orderly, predictable. She hadn't been surprised--really surprised--by anything in a very long time. She stopped her mount as it brushed the stranger. Then, towering above him, she quickly bent down to clasp his face in her hands. She was going to try something she hadn't done in eighteen years. Looking deep into his upturned eyes, she let her mind-sense slowly float down into his, searching, probing, something that should not be possible with another adult. And so she remained for several minutes. Finally, she released his face and straightened up to again sit proud upon her mu-lynx. She knew her eyes were stinging with a new anger. Fighting for control, she lowered her voice, saying, "Now . . . you look into his mind, daughter. You've always been better at that than me." Second-dagger's look was inquiring, with one eyebrow raised. "What did you see?" "Look!" Patra ordered sharply, trying to hide her dread. Second-dagger relaxed her grip on the knife and said through clenched teeth, "You know how I hate to do that. It makes my head ache trying to integrate all of those faint, confusing little voices that are whispering at once. Besides, what makes you think I'll succeed where you failed? After all, he's an adult, and we can only read clearly the very young." "Your assumption that I failed is inaccurate. I want you to confirm what I saw. Now do it!" Patra glared at her daughter as the younger woman kept her grip on the man's hair, sheathed her weapon, and bent her head down further until it touched his. Second-dagger then closed her eyes, and a look of concentration passed over her face. Shortly her daughter jerked erect and exclaimed, "Ah! What's this?" "What?" Patra echoed. Did she see what I did? "Curse this man, if one can call him that. And curse you for making me look into his mind. You knew it, didn't you? You knew he has no formed mind! You just made me look so I could experience that horror. Another of your growing up lessons, mother-teacher? How is this possible?" The look on her daughter's face made Patra think the younger woman was going to be sick. She sympathized with the feeling. Her own stomach was queasy. Second-dagger drew her knife again and put it back to his throat. "Disgusting, disgusting weakness," she growled. "He's not really alive, and this makes our planet unclean. I give his remaining life back to Agon." "Wait! Don't kill him!" Patra ordered quickly as she fought down her own disgust. "This poses a puzzle we may be forced to answer. How did he lose his mind?" "That doesn't matter to me any longer. He must die. We must send his body to where his mind is." "Wait. We're being too hasty. Let's think this through." Second-dagger didn't look up as she said, "What thinking does this take? The Second Law is clear. You know it states we must destroy all weakness on Agon so that the genetic pool is optimized for survival. Since this man is obviously flawed, he must die. Besides, he's almost dead already. Look at him. Mindless! Easy prey for any predator. In fact, he would be dead now if we hadn't intervened with the leopard's lunch." "No, no! I thought that he must die at first, too. But I now think that would be a mistake because the mystery of why he lost his mind could be of a greater importance than purging weakness from Agon. For example, could what has happened to him be a danger to us or to other warriors of Agon? Consider: what terrible thing could destroy his mind so suddenly that he wasn't able to kill himself before it was done? For wouldn't all honorable swords have demanded their own death rather than become like this? Where are the answers to these questions?"
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Copyright © 1992 L Clayton Bennett |