Anya watched Jonal and Tonas followed the boy
along with the cats and the Elders.
Her pulse was a bit rapid, but slowed as Syn
opened her eyes. Nafer already cradled Syn’s head in his lap, his
trembling hands awkwardly soothing her brow. “It’s all right now,
Mommie. Poppy, Zadda, and I are here, that fem won’t be mean
anymore, I promise. Everything will be all right. Don’t leave me,
Mommie.”
Still in physician mode, attempting to soothe
both the child and her patient, Anya looked up to see who blocked
her light. She didn’t run alone, her anxious BondMates stood behind
her.
::Look at the line in the dirt! Something
is wrong!::
Syn blasted out to anyone who could hear her, then
fainted for the second time.
Anya looked up and surveyed the land around
them. Syn was right. Something was wrong with the dirt.
She sent out the second psychic scream.
* * * *
“I have learned to hate all traitors,
and there is no disease that I spit upon more.”
—Aeschylus
Anya heard Jonal and Tonas
send out a coded signal and with the precision of a military drill
the Warriors ran and evacuated the fem who were still in line from
the area.
TeZaron and TeBron arrived and grabbed the
still groggy Syn, motioning for Naffie, Anya, and the cats to
follow. As they ran a wall of fire burst out of the ground.
The Warriors avoided chaos by shepherding the
women into a huge hangar, the empaths among them sending waves of
calm.
Anya looked around. Five seconds ago she was
at the field. Now she, Syn, the cats, the boy, and the Elders
inhabited a small comfortable room and she didn’t know how she
arrived. Before she had time to get her bearings, Jonal and Tonas
appeared as if out of nowhere.
“Report,” said TeZaron.
“Liquid fire, sir, the blaze will burn itself
out in a tine. If it hadn’t been for Fem Sinclair’s warning, all
the fem would have perished in the flames.”
“Fem Sinclair is our bonded. Teleport over to
the alternate processing area and make sure the Warriors have
things under control.”
“Teleport?” chorused Anya and Syn.
* * * *
The admirals met Juraens and Mark at the
inside processing station.
“What was that?” asked Mark.
Jonal answered. “Exactly what it looked
like—an attack on the fem.”
“Is everything under control?” Tonas asked.
“Has the building been searched and secured?”
“I used only the crew of
Brightstar
to
organize the fem and search the hall,” Juraens said, face grim.
“I will alert the Elders that it is safe for
their fem to be processed,” Mark added.
“She should be processed first. Syn Sinclair
saved all of their asses today.”
* * * *
Moments later the Elders arrived with Syn,
Anya, and the cats. Anya went to stand beside Syn, who sat in a
chair at the head of the line, Nafer still clutching her hand.
“Nafer, would you mind if I checked your
Mommie’s head to see if she is hurt?”
“It’s not outside, it’s inside. I made her
sick when I mind-spoke. I should have let Poppie or Zadda speak to
her first.” Guilty golden eyes looked into light blue ones.
“Do you think I made her fall?” he asked with
trepidation.
“No, the fire made her fall. You probably
just shocked her with your mind speech. Sarran Warriors, even
little ones like you, seem to favor grand entrances.” Anya ran her
hands through Syn’s hair and examined her neck. “No bumps or lumps,
young man.”
* * * *
“Good to know.” Syn opened her eyes
languidly, taking a moment to re-orient herself. She closed them
immediately. Her head felt as if someone split it from her
shoulders with a pickaxe. A rather anxious young boy stood beside
her with his hand encircling hers. A name flashed across her
brain.
::You must be Naffie. Oh shit, I used mind
speech.::
“Yes, I am Naffie and yes you used mind
speech. My fault…you are my new Mommie. What was that burning
stick? Did it hurt you? Was that why the fire started? Don’t worry
my—what’s that word—oh yes, the Daddies are here. Don’t be afraid.
Poppie didn’t know you at first, that’s because he needed Zadda to
see you, but I didn’t. I heard you from across the stars. You spoke
to me but you didn’t believe I was real. Your barriers were strong
because they are flexible, if I poked, they gave but did not open.
When we arrived I thought to use a pin. I poked and it popped. I
think I broke it.” Naffie was babbling.
Syn attempted to lift her head.
“I scared you, I think. Do you hurt?”
“No,” she fibbed, “I’m just a bit shell
shocked.”
“Shell shocked?”
Syn answered his question with her eyes still
closed, her eyelashes fluttering along the top of her cheekbone.
The bright lights sent thunderbolts straight to her head. Her brain
processed the mother of all migraines. She squinted and tried to
peer at the child with one violet eye. “That means I am a bit
overset by all of the drama…Er…who are your Daddies?” She put her
hand up to her head. The boy grabbed her hand, and placed it at her
side. He continued to stroke her brow. The pain receded a bit.
She winced, suddenly her head exploded with
voices. Unfortunately, as usual, Madeline Dixon-Howard’s projected
more than the others.
“Look at that slut, drawing attention to
herself again…”
Her head started to pound again ferociously,
like someone was repeatedly hitting her with a large hammer.
Syn felt the lightest kiss on her cheek. She
watched as Nafer turned his face politely to Anya. “Princess Anya,”
he said formally, “would you take care of my Mommie for a mot?”
“Of course, Nafer.”
Syn attempted to get up. Instinctively, she
knew she should stop the boy. Her rather lame attempt at mobility
failed and Anya caught her and pushed her back into the chair
before she hit the ground for the third time. She saw Nafer walk
back to Madeline Dixon-Howard and kick her in the shin. Syn’s eyes
widened in shock.
“You shut up and stop hurting my Mommie
now
, she saved your life!” he said loudly as he turned on
his heel and walked back over to Syn and Anya.
Syn saw Anya suppress a giggle.
::Efficient,::
Anya shot to her friend,
::…wish I thought
of it first.::
Syn shook her head, “It might make it worse.
I don’t want to bring this type of notoriety on a child.”
“Don’t worry; they grow these Sarran strong,
compassionate, and best of all, willing to do anything for their
fem.”
Miraculously, her headache began to
recede.
Nafer returned and took his place beside Syn.
Madeline Dixon-Howard, being largely ignored, shouted at whoever
would listen about undisciplined children sired by obvious
lowlifes. Nafer resumed his mental connection with Syn without
missing a beat. She felt the mental
click
in her head.
::Naffie…::
::Yes, Mommie,::
he answered a bit
shyly.
::You shouldn’t do that to Maddy.::
Syn tried to be stern but didn’t know if that projected in mind
speech.
::But, Mommie, she’s evil.::
The
childish face set into a sulk.
::Her aura is black and spitting.
Foul.::
Syn managed to hold her head up with one
hand.
“She’s not evil, Naffie, just misinformed and
troubled. If I’m going to be your Mommie, you must go over to Maddy
with one of your Daddies and apologize. You don’t want to embarrass
your Daddies or me by behaving like a bully.”
“She’s the bully! I need to say I’m sorry?
Why am I sorry? She hurt you. She should be sorry.” Syn grabbed at
her neck to ease the ache that returned as soon as Maddy looked her
way.
“You are sorry because boys, even little
ones, don’t hurt girls.”
Duchess sat and watched the proceedings
quietly. After accessing the situation, she daintily rose and
exited her basket, left Tigger standing guard, and headed over to
her charge.
Golden eyes watched as Duchess jumped up and
padded around Syn, tapping her with a paw, obviously making her own
cursory examination of her human companion.
Nafer attempted to change the subject.
“That’s Duchess, you eat cookies and milk with her on your lap and
watch a tube. What’s a tube, Mommie?”
“You are changing the subject, Naffie. Find
one or both of your Daddies and after you apologize, I’ll tell you
about the tube, and cookies.”
A deep voice Syn didn’t recognize said,
“Nafer, Fem Sinclair probably has a nasty headache. Why don’t you
go stand by the Princess Anya and let Poppie and I take care of
her.
Nafer looked at his Zadda. “Why didn’t you
come right away? Mommie hurts.”
Bron gave his offspring a grave look. “I did,
but unfortunately, I needed to calm down a very angry fem with a
bruise on her shinbone who demanded that my offspring be spanked.”
Amused violet eyes looked into golden ones. “She called me a
low-life, fit only to scrape pond scum off her shoe. Garlance
turned apocalyptic.”
“She deserved it,” Nafer said with
determination.
“Probably, but we don’t hurt our fem on
Sarran.”
“She’s not a fem. Mommie thinks she’s a
bitch.”
“Define bitch…” Bron asked, exasperation
evident in his voice.
“Female dog.”
“Dog?”
“Ask Mommie…”
Syn listened to the conversation with
amusement.
“I’m sure I heard Mommie say something about
an apology.”
“She said you’d go with me,” he said, clearly
bargaining.
‘‘Zadda will go with you. In the meantime,
I’ll take care of Mommie,’’ TeZaron said as he stepped out from
behind TeBron. “I don’t think our Mommie will be happy until you do
as she asks, cub.”
“I don’t want to…”
Zaron raised his eyebrow. Mobile eyebrows
seemed to be a talent of the Sarran male.
“But I’ll go because Mommie asked me to. She
doesn’t want to be shamed by my bad behavior.” Naffie conveyed his
disgust of the errand with his stiff body and his sulky tone.
* * * *
TeBron rolled his eyes at TeZaron.
::Yes
something definitely needs to be done about Naffie.::
Zaron stepped out of the direct sunlight and
came over to his fem. She was still struggling to sit up on the
chair. Dumbstruck, he wondered, ::
Why didn’t I connect with this
stunning fem on board? Laptard’s piss, the mind block, the song
that buzzed in my head…You’re right Bron, we’ve been
BondStruck!::
::I gathered that on the trip to the
spaceport when our offspring kept peppering his mind speech with
unfamiliar words and concepts. The word ‘Mommie’ loomed ominously
with portent. I’ll take care of our fem’s request of her new
offspring, Dragon. She might be more comfortable if you speak to
her and explain what happened. At least she has seen you
before.::
While his Dearest escorted Nafer back over to
Fem Dixon-Howard, Zaron walked the short distance to Jonal, Tonas,
and Anya.
“Admirals, princess.” Zaron directed his
attention to Anya. “Thank you for your care of Fem Sinclair. As you
undoubtedly realize, she is our bonded.” Syn looked up, “Oh my God,
it’s you!”
He reached down and effortlessly picked her
up out of the chair, cradling her into his chest.
::Yes, it’s
me. I didn’t recognize you on board for reasons Bron and I will
explain later. But you are our bonded and beloved.::
His blue eyes warmed to the blue of the
Caribbean Sea.
::Oh my God…this feeling was what Anya
described…BondStired—to an Elder. Shit! Maddy will be calling for
my crucifixion.::
“Maddy will have nothing to say or I’ll send
Nafer back after her.” TeZaron chuckled as he kissed Syn’s platinum
hair.
“Let me introduce myself formally, I am
TeZaron and our bonded is TeBron. You,” he ran a finger down her
nose, “belong with us.”
Anya glanced over at her men. Syn listened to
her chuckle.
“Do all of you produce that effect on women?
I distinctly remember fainting when I first saw you two gorillas
standing over my bed.”
“Define gorilla.”
“Large hairy apes—Here comes Mark and by the
way, Nafer said we’re having a fempring.”
That remark brought both Jonal and Tonas to
their knees.
* * * *
Duchess padded back over to Tigger.
::These boys sure do know how to make an entrance. Your two look
like a wrecking ball has hit them square in the balls and just the
sight of mine sent my Syn back into the arms of Morpheus.::
::
We live in interesting
times,::
Tigger replied enigmatically.
::Don’t say that. It’s a Chinese curse—May
you live in interesting times.::
::I know.::
* * * *
Dr. Mark Stern supervised the remainder of
the off-loading of the wounded from the
Brightstar
. It would
be his last official act in the capacity of Ship Surgeon and
Security Officer. Mark imagined a greeting by hoards of hungry
newshounds once he stepped planetside. As the only
male
Earthen to be BondStirred and mated to a Sarran Warrior, he braced
himself to be on the cover of the Sarran equivalent of
Star.
Juraens had made his way back to the gangplank.
::Holos, you mean holos, Treasured.::
Mark’s bonded, Juraens, flowed into the river of his thoughts
without causing a ripple.
“Interesting…while we remained apart on
board, I made a study of Earthen media. I’m afraid you are in for
severe culture shock. Sarrans do not follow the cult of personality
that has ensnared your Earth. The Sarran media will want to
interview you as well as the princess and her cat, but the request
will come ‘through channels,’ politely and you may just as politely
say, ‘No, thank you.’”
::I sense a large “but” in that last thought,
Beloved. So large I could drive a bus through it.::