On Shalimar - IX E-Book

Suzann Dodd

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

This is part of the continuing story which began as The Right Thing, through The Great Space Pirate, Search for the Sakari.

It is during the Inclusion ceremony when the ZerShaz conquerors must travel to each planet, those they held before the war, and those they had captured after defeat of the Terrans.

Sharon, who had been psi-probed, so is without memory, is on a planet called Shalimar which has been captured and Included.

Leseprobe

Suzann Dodd

On Shalimar - IX

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

The Best Man?

THE BEST MAN?

TONY JOHNSON

Engrevi Wildlife Reserve

uPaychel called his Aides, sending two for food, while one began to preen him as if he were groom. I was searching for an intercept, couldn't find one.

I was straffing uPaychel, he matched boy on date, and me in the mix wasn't prime.  He is the King of the Planet of Beta Mar, which is in the 3rd Sector. We are on Shalimar in the 11th. He has no power here.

Overthere, in the gazebo stands Sharon.

If her memory hadn't been wiped by psi-probe she'd know she was the wife of Ki-Zershaz and the living goddess, The Sakari. But her memory is wiped, she doesn't know who and what she is.  She stands there, having hocked my player, listening to ancient reggae, which could prompt memory. If it did, she'd suffer a High Reaction. She'd get a terrific headache, vomit, and go unconscious.

I would assume, that blob of her past, listening to reggae, has been unblocked, and possibly, touching on a few more Jamaican aspects from that time would clear those probes; but I'm not here to bring her to 1989, I'm here to get her to remember the past five years.

The past five years, married to the god/king of the Galaxy.

It's so unreal, watching her. Her confidence magneted. She slipped into this now so smooth.  Call it last year she'd scripted into their interstices. Last year, she, Sharon Feinstein, Pirate et. al. had wrapped herself in their webs until she became the spider.

This rev, quintessential Sharon, baby Sharon without history, holding scraps of connection she's gleaned over the days, has squirreled through, again.  She, human woman, moving as easy among the Zerks as if they were her next door neighbors.

Any human of this time, any time, even me who was getting buckets of dispensation, couldn't jettison the fear that I was riding the tiger. They matched a savage tribe, descendents of Goliath. With their long whip snap hair, their uniforms of animal skins, they could pass for cannibals, yet she didn't own a molecule of fear.

In the core of me, I'm blessing. Blessing us. Us, then.  Us, the human race, what we were, then. Five Hundred years gone. Then, we were capable of level eyeing the environment. And us now?

Was it knowing we weren't an only child in the galaxy which snipped our wings? How had we become what we are?

Look at me, a man who had so much data he could choke, turning shakeknee and tremble chin when put in the spotlight. Match her, on the balustrade, balmy and fey. No fear of the numberless killing machines, dressed in hardcore uniforms, without a giggle to their souls, milling like bad news.

The Zerks, who'd arrived at her first shout, who had filled the yard as cannibals to the picnic, were now drifting into the bushes. And she, the fragile saps. Languid. How easy.

Too easy.

She was mapping it.

She'd outted the window to 'get away', and had she not fenced sound with Jill she'd not be able to count how many peepers were glued to her bod.  Her voice had been a call, maybe a ploy. Maybe she'd upvolumed to dig them from their hides, to know how many Zees there were, where, what, when. Don't use the maybe. Say it flat. She was going to run.

Call it aura, name it ESP, but I knew she 's going to run.

As a psychiatrist I get it. Amnesiacs wander. When you don't know who or what or when you are, you keep getting to solitude to balance.

Sharon had asked if I'd run with her, but me, I'd been staid. No cellie banging bars, but docile pet, looking for scraps. She'd extended and I wasn't hyper enough to online.

"Tony, will you come with me..."

She'd seen our match, maybe her blood was talking, and she was giving me the go. But I held. Sharon would run without me, in a direction I couldn't glom. And the date was soon.

I scoped for Ki-Zee, wished he'd onscreen. In a joust for her focus, I think uPaychel a few points ahead.