The Book of Ominiue: Starborn Read online

  Shayne went to one of the seats and waited there, the conference could potentially take hours. The hard stone seats were surprisingly comfortable; he let himself enjoy the moments rest, allowing his aching body to return back to a normal state. Omar was lying a few metres away from him in a shadow provided by the monument, his hat tipped to hide his eyes. Dominic walked over after the link-up was complete. He tried to kick the resting soldier, who reached out with sharp reflexes and grabbed his leg making him stumble. Dominic took a few steps to regain his balance while laughing. Shayne was fascinated with them and often watched them as they fooled around. They were always making trouble or talking about things in life that interested them. Best of all they acted as if Shayne did not exist, even those who tried to ignore him tended to be intimidated by his presence, becoming awkward or silent while he was near.

  After recovering from the stunt, Dominic came and sat down on a step near his friend. Omar resigned to his friend’s company and pulled himself up into a slouched position, propped up by one arm, where he looked across at the mountains. Omar cracked open a tin of canned fruit, and leaned back, eating while he joined Dominic in admiring the view, ‘Would you look at that? The trip was worth that view in itself, it’s a beauty.’

  ‘Would be, considering this is the only world you’ve visited, other than Mars and Earth,’ Dominic replied, but he too smiled as he looked out at the peaks. He then flung his free arm in a dramatic gesture, his voice tone increasing in false pose, ‘The splendour of skyscrapers as far as the eye can see.’

  ‘Very funny, not all of us are as fortunate as you and the Bianchi dynasty, and all the riches you left behind.’

  ‘Key words my friend, “left behind.” Was my family so rich that I had to come here?’ Dominic laughed. He did leave a comfortable fortune behind, but he hoped to earn his own and with his own hard work; ignoring the fact he gained his first colonisation contract because of his family and the not-so-legal exchange of money to the selection board. ‘I’ve only seen three other star systems. You should ask my old man about pretty views, not me.’

  ‘That’s two more than most of us, and I doubt he’s still alive,’ Omar commented, thinking about the 45-year journey they took, which only seemed a few months to those who were in suspended animation. ‘I really want to visit Alpha Centauri, the pictures I’ve seen, it looks awesome,’ Omar said while spooning food into his mouth.

  ‘Awesome? My nonno used to say awesome,’ Dominic mocked as he reached out and snatched the last of Omar’s canned fruit. ‘After this you’ll be able to. You’ll finally have the money to take outer world holidays.’ Omar’s mouth betrayed a half-smile. Dominic then pointed his spoon at Omar, ‘but you should spend some time enjoying this world, it might not have the same appeal as Centauri’s binary system, but there’s so much to offer here in relation to civilisation and culture. Alpha Centauri doesn’t have that.’

  ‘Of course I know that,’ Omar said annoyed and amused that Dominic was acting rational instead of causing trouble for once. ‘I was just saying I want to see other places, for many different reasons, — and besides, you’re the one who’s always complaining that we should fly instead of walk!’

  ‘Hey, I just think we should be using our ships, they’re just sitting there while my legs hurt from weeks of trekking. Fly in, in all our glory and become gods, screw the directive, we’ve already broken half the rules anyway. Then we can see all this from a very comfy seat up in the sky,’ he ended in friendly sarcasm before they both fell into silence. Omar’s thoughts drifted to the wealth that he would acquire, and what adventures he planned to fund with that wealth. He was pulled from his daydream when he heard the Brigadier shout out Dominic’s name.

  Hanniver’s conference had ended and Dominic instinctively rose to return to the equipment under his care. Shayne thought the meeting had ended quicker than expected: The general must have been in a foul mood. He was well known for his shifting temper; one day he would be everyone’s best friend and generous in his praise, the next the mere presence of people would cause a constant state of agitation; on such days, people knew to keep their heads down and mouths shut. Despite the unpredictable temper his men loved him and he somehow managed to inspire the best from his troops.

  Shayne was sceptical about the meetings between the two star officers. He thought that the whole process was flawed. A droid’s memory bank was all that was needed. Instead they insist upon reports and conferences to give themselves a sense of importance. The only things Thorn Hendingson wanted were reports of their mission’s progress. With the androids and plethora of technology they were lugging around it was possible to maintain a constant stream of real time data relayed to the spaceships. Shayne did not understand why they only maintained occasional contact when the robots were recording all interactions, part of him suspected it was distrust of the Astronauts, they did not want to send live streams of data through them and they did not trust the satellites provided, the other half was justifying the existence of paid personal. In a world built on machines the place for humanity in the workforce has become increasingly small.

  Shayne was glad he did not interrupt the meeting. Such information would cause an explosion of anger that would probably be heard all the way to the Bohaníde Capital. Shayne intercepted the Brigadier as he was making his way to their supplies. He turned at hearing Shayne’s soft voice, his eyebrows lifted as he looked upon him.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked, not sure what to think. A Starborn usually waited for the superior solider to come to him and not the other way around.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, sir,’ a statement which indeed disturbed him. ‘The lionmen have changed our final destination to Kérith-Árim.’

  ‘Kérith-Árim!’ Hanniver involuntarily called out. At the sound of his raised voice the other Earthmen turned to look, now listening intently to the conversation. ‘What the gorram hell for!’

  ‘They say that we must move from the forest,’

  ‘Like hell we are!’ the German side of his accent grew as his rage mounted.

  ‘It’s their law. If we work with Bohaníde, others might see it as a threat, we have to negotiate with everyone.’

  ‘Why Kérith-Árim?’ Hanniver retorted still angry but lowering his voice, Shayne stood silent for a moment, trying to find an equivalent society for the political system on this world.

  ‘It’s like their League of Nations.’ Shayne’s eyes narrowed as he shifted through the limited historical knowledge he had learned, ‘or the Imperial Treaty Alliance.’

  ‘And are they as useless?’

  ‘They’re the authority and hold power over the other regions; to oppose them is to oppose the rest. We’ve anticipated and planned for this.’

  ‘It doesn’t mean we have to roll over without a fight!’ Hanniver retorted, his agitation flowing through his face.

  ‘Like it or not, Bohaníde doesn’t have the authority to give us what we want, we have to talk to the Kérith-Árim king!’

  The Brigadier locked eyes momentarily with Shayne, his gaze just as fierce as the Starborn’s. The officer then turned his back on him and returned to his gear, occasionally muttering to himself. Shayne stood there for a moment watching the Brigadier’s actions before he realised he was dismissed. The other army personnel also glared at the Starborn, but when he faced them they returned to their original focus.

  Sensing the hostility Shayne excused himself. He sat down on the steps of the meeting house; he could hear plenty of movement within as natives went about their business. He knew that Hanniver was a reasonable man: he just needed time.

  The sun was low when the natives started to emerge from various buildings, bearing plates of food and drink. It seemed the entire Bohaníde Company had now come, all dressed casually with their tails still wrapped tightly around their waist and their military standard swords hanging at their belts. Kíe, Pan’arden and Madan’rah made their way to the town hall, signalling for the Earthmen to follow.

 
The old building was neat and friendly on the inside with good and strong workmanship. Carvings of gods and legends adorned their walls from roof to floor, each panel depicting a different story. There were no tables present. Instead everything was set out on the floor before them on raised wooden benches. The low benches filled the meeting house so there was barely enough room to move, even less when the natives filed in and sat upon the floor. Some local lionmen were already inside with more food and comforts. The Brigadier was still fuming at the deception and this seemed to him to be a continuation of that deception, but he could not help but be lifted by the smell of the food and the friendly nature of the simple village people. There was not enough room for all of them. Most of the warriors had their meal and entertainment within the tent camps around the palisade, while the villagers and higher ranked warriors hosted the Earthmen.

  Hanniver and Shayne were invited to the head table with the village elder, Kíe and the two captains. Shayne sat cross legged and looked up at the elder sitting beside him, she was an old lionman, with sunken features and a thin frame. Despite her frailness the old leader still appeared intimidatingly large to the Earthmen. The food presented was a pleasant change from the military rations though they had to pick their choices carefully and attach their drinks to a filter device. It was difficult to explain to the simple village people that their food could make the Earthmen very sick if they were not careful, but Kíe managed to convince them. Great roasts, fruits and salads of many kinds were laid before them causing their mouths to water. Beverages of wine and ciders were poured. It was clear that the village and the warriors were giving their best for the Earthmen: they in return tried their best to accept all that was provided.

  Hanniver sat between Shayne and Pan’arden, one of the robots sat near him where it translated. The Brigadier happy tested the wine, he thought it was a better alternative to sulking over his brief exchange with Shayne. It was against regulations for a member of the Empire Military to consume alcohol, but considering their current position he thought he could let it slide, it provided a good distraction from a day’s frustration and as the night passed his spirits grew. His Tasmanian tiger lay patiently behind him, awaiting any scraps that were to pass her way. There was also a hound dog and two small cats in the hall sitting beside their masters, in perfect harmony with each other.

  Many of the Earthmen became quite drunk; this was not a hard thing to achieve when military law only allowed consumption while on leave and public holidays. A black market culture existed back on the colonised worlds; illegal alcohol trade in the military was just as big as drugs in the civilian world. Not that consumption was a problem with this group, but sometimes people will just take advantage of the situation. Not all were drunk: Omar, one of the privates and the Starborn all stayed sober. Shayne did not drink. He tried the cider but was not impressed, so he stuck with the filtered water instead.

  The night passed harmoniously, Hanniver was happy to converse with Pan’arden, where they talked about the king of Kérith-Árim. Later on Kíe sung some songs and played his eight-string guitar. The night then progressed with songs sung by other lionmen; warriors and local villagers alike, all impressive. None were on the same scale as Kíe, but he happily let them entertain when they wanted to, the scholar would then delegate himself to a support position, complimenting them on their talents. Other instruments would appear throughout the night as the natives joined in. One very impressive flute player from the army played along with Kíe’s melody, often improvising. Afterwards Kíe bowed to her skill, a great honour for any musician, even from a first year journeyman.

  When the songs had ended Kíe retrieved another stringed instrument, a large wooden frame that he rested on his lap as he played it. This one looked and sounded very similar to a Chinese instrument called a Guqui, though it had the same amount of strings as his guitar. He played quietly in the background as some of the warrior storytellers spoke of their adventures; embellishing them as any storyteller does.

  Eventually Kíe put his Guqui-like instrument aside and rose for the teaching, As the regional scholar he would command the stage and speak in more depth about the songs and legends they recited. This was an important part of their tradition and reinforced their religion and teachings.

  ‘In the beginning,’ Kíe’s voice rose with the power of a performer and everyone instantly grew quiet and the children rose up in anticipation, ‘there was only the creator.’ Some of the children slumped a bit, the creation was one of the most recited stories but still they were excited, it was a journeyman who was telling the tale after all. ‘The creator had no name, for oren[7] had to speak with, so the author of all divided ordenself into many and donned a cloak of power; the body of the mighty lion and they called themselves the Kéaran.’ The natives’ words of oren and its variances was distracting at first, English language did not have proper neutral words for gender, excluding the vague usage of words such as ‘them’ to combine male and female into groups. There was no appropriate translation, so often they did not translate.

  ‘Of the Kéaran three are known. First came Kea’mahendra the Lion of Darkness, who is shrouded in night so none can see orden, but is the creator of all. Second is Zea’hinader, the Lion of Flame, the speaker of our dreams and the guider when there is none to guide, oren exists in living flame that ebbs and flows with the wind. The Firelion can run as fast as a dragon and commands all the creatures of the world,’ Kíe paused a second, bringing his arm around in an arc, ‘and lastly is Ká’ranarder, the White Lion of Light, the one who governs our lands in times of hardship, it was oren who sent Ominiue to protect us and guide us. The Light gave us love and hope and freedom.

  ‘The Kéaran, the Lions of creation, grew tired of their kingdom. Their servants were many and their lands were eternal, but they only had themselves to enjoy it. So they decided to create the universe and fill it with mortal creatures who would grow and die, and those that were worthy would ascend to the eternal lands and share in it with them, and those who were not would return to the nothingness in which they were formed.

  ‘Kea’mahendra was the grand architect. Oren saw the emptiness and gave it form. Oren made the stars and the planets and the Sun and the Moon; raised the mountains and sunk the seas.

  ‘Next Ká’ranarder created life. The very first creation was to be the caretaker of the world and they called him Ossh’laue, the mighty God of Dragons and servant of the Kéaran and it is he we call Ominiue. He protects the innocent and judges the guilty, for the White Lion saw that there would be evil in a mortal world. Ká’ranarder then created the three guardian dragon-gods to help Ominiue: First there was Mataurious the Guardian of the Seas and all bodies of water, then there was Ethus the Guardian of the Earth and all underneath it, and finally came Galafus the Guardian of the Skies and all the winds that flowed around her ...’

  The night drifted on and Kíe’s story continued, describing in basic detail the coming of the mortal dragons and the others including the Afradians and their great influence over the advancement of the people. Afterwards they returned to more singing. The children were taken to bed and some of the adults also retired leaving behind the more eager to celebrate.

  Shayne sat alone for much of the night, sometimes a native would approach him and he would politely speak with them, but mostly he sat in silence watching the proceeding around him, listening to the songs and tales of Dífrun mythology.

  Slowly the night deepened and many Earthmen desired sleep. As honoured guests they were allowed to sleep in the Meeting House. When the humans conveyed their desire to retire, the lionmen stacked the low benches at the end of the room and brought in several bed furs for the Earthmen visitors, including the androids.

  Hanniver staggered off, leaning on a droid, ‘Hope my cup wasn’t made from lead,’ he slurred with a half dazed expression on his face as he tried to recall.

  ‘No Sir, it is brass,’ 14D-SCMSR informed while escorting him to a bed in the corner.


  ‘Oh,’ was all the Brigadier could say, his eyebrows rose and his eyes briefly twinkled before he went back into his dreamy look. The robot laid him down on furs spread upon the floor, where the Brigadier curled up like a child and instantly began to snore.

  Shayne felt restricted in the hall, the atmosphere was intriguing but the small building was suffocating. When everyone had staggered off to bed he slipped outside where the air was much more agreeable. Shayne looked up at the sky; stars twinkled brightly in the darkness with the Milky Way and colonyships clear above them. He instantly felt at ease, leaning against a wooden pillar he continued to gaze up.

  The sound of feet on stone caught his attention. He turned his head to face the High Captain Pan’arden. She came to Shayne’s side, resting her arms upon the wooden railing. She also looked up at the stars. Shayne watched her from the corner of his eye, even though she was slouched she still stood at a foot taller than him: her eyes gleamed in the night as she watched the lights.

  ‘Why is it Afra’hama, that of all the sky Ta’Orians, you are the only one to look up at the stars?’ She lowered her gaze to look at Shayne; her yellow eyes glittered in the receding moonlight as she examined his face. Shayne tried to grasp the question. He felt a connection to the colonyships and to the Astronauts, a connection the Planetsiders did not. To him they seemed blind to the universe around them and its wonders. He could not find an answer.

  Pan’araden nodded at seeing his struggle to articulate a reply, instead she pointed to the Milky Way, her hand moving over the Sagittarius Arm. ‘There is an ancient legend of the stars, before the first Time-Bender. We call the path the Dragons Run. Once we believed it was where the souls of the Dragons and their riders would rise when they were slain. For eternity they fly on the winds of night as the blessed, with the heroes of old. It is a beautiful thought and as a child I wished that one day I would join those stars.’ Pan’arden grew quiet for a moment as they both contemplated the skies above. She then looked up at the colonyships glinting above them, ‘Where did the new stars come from?’