Read Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu Online

Authors: Storm Constantine

Tags: #angels, #magic, #wraeththu, #storm constantine, #androgyny, #wendy darling

Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu (47 page)

BOOK: Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu
13.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I didn’t pick up any emotions
coming off the har so I tried, and failed, to read the expression
on his face. “Well, that depends,” I said. “How’s he turned
out?”

The har smiled enigmatically.
“Oh, you’ll see.”

This was as much as Manifest
had told me that morning. I had no idea how things were going with
the inception, not even at this late hour. All I knew was that it
was over and whatever the result, it was going to come into the
room soon and we would be sharing aruna.

Once the attendant went away, I
leaned back and tried to calm myself down. Whatever I was about to
face, I would be on my best behaviour. Nothing less would be
acceptable, not when it was Manifest’s orders.

There was another rap on the
door, accompanied by a tendril of thought, an announcement:
It’s
him.

I smiled, thinking immediately
of Manifest’s pronouncement.

The door opened slowly,
creaking on its hinges, and there in the entrance stood one of the
most entrancing hara I’d ever seen. His hair, which even as a boy
had been as full and beautiful as a woman’s, now shone with an
irresistible gleam, begging to be touched. His body, tall and lean,
tantalized me from beneath a robe of semi-transparent yellow silk.
And his eyes, those deep brown eyes I’d first seen as they stared
blankly at a fire, now looked at me deliberately, intelligently,
longingly.

Come
, I gestured, and he
stepped forward into the room. The door closed behind him. When he
stopped, half-way across the room, I gestured again. “Come sit,” I
said, thinking at this stage I might need to speak out loud.

He sat at the foot of the bed,
gingerly, as if he was afraid he would break into pieces like a
piece of old porcelain. A flicker of memory came back to me; I
remembered feeling that way myself after my inception.

“I’m glad to see you made it
through. So how are you?” I started off.

He focused on me as I spoke but
did not reply, simply tilted his head and looked puzzled.

Oh, no, he’s the same now, only
more beautiful, I thought to myself.

But then, he spoke. “I can…” he
began, “I can speak. I understand you… Heart.”

“That’s good.” I was stunned.
“So what do you say?”

Again there was a brief
silence. His eyes locked with mine with a focus they had never had
before. “I say… things are different now.”

I nodded. “Yes, they are.” The
force that had drawn him to me even as a human boy tugged on me now
that he was har. “Want me to show you just how different?”

I reached out for his hand. A
jolt of power went up my arm. His brown eyes studied me, and he
pursed his lips. “Show me,” he said.

An hour or so later, as we lay
tangled in the sheets, I was still showing him – and he was showing
me. We couldn’t seem to stop touching one another. It was mainly me
doing the talking, but he told me things as well. Where he’d come
from, what his inception had been like. Hearing him was like taking
part in a miracle. And the power I felt even in the tips of his
fingertips, never mind what I’d felt in aruna, was a miracle,
too.

Looking at Sphinx, I couldn’t
help thinking his new harish body was animated by a different
person. The human boy was gone, replaced by a har just as intense,
but with the ability to truly share that intensity with the world.
The vision of Manifest’s dream was a true one.

It was during a pause in my
talking that he reached out and pointed at my chest. “Heart,” he
said. “Your name.”

I nodded. “Yes, and a horrible
pun –
har-t
.” When he didn’t laugh, I wasn’t surprised. He
was changed, but nothing could make up for his past. Which reminded
me…

“You know,” I said, “I don’t
even know your name. What is it?”

“John,” he said flatly.

I got up from the bed. “John?
Well, that won’t do as a harish name. You need a new name.”

“A new name?” he asked. From
his expression, I sensed I had confused him again.

“Yes,” I said. “A new name, for
your new life. A new difference.”

I stepped back and thought
about what I might name him. Manifest and I hadn’t discussed it. I
wondered if he had some particular name in mind, since he sometimes
liked to give names to his hara, especially those he incepted
personally. But as I looked at Sphinx, his high cheekbones and wide
eyes, which until today had only stared blankly, incuriously, the
name came to me.

“Sphinx,” I said, half to
myself, then louder: “Sphinx.” I placed my hands on his head.
“That’s your new name.”

“Sphinx,” he repeated. “I like
it.”

 

 

Pro
Lucror

Storm Constantine

 

The creature of darkness slunk
out into the night and glared at the vague moon, which was faintly
visible through the smog that hung over the city. He cursed
quietly, shook his tousled hair, and stepped into the street. He
walked along the centre of the road, where litter blew. There were
bloodstains, sometimes, to step over. This was the place of ruins,
best avoided. This was the place of demons. The creature walked
away from it, towards the weakening, shrinking heart of the city,
where humans tried to cling to a normal life. Armoured cars purred
past, their ghostly lamp eyes gleaming dully.

He knew what he sought: a huge
building without windows. There it was: the mausoleum of hope. The
creature sighed, his hollow eyes fixed upon the immense stones. He
leaned against a lamp post across the street from the building and
waited; a trim tiger.

After maybe an hour, an
automatic elevator in the building opposite slid to ground level
and opened its metal doors, spewing forth uniformed workers from
the vast interior. A soft, female yet metallic voice crooned: ‘Home
to bed everyone. Home now to bed. Wake up fresh tomorrow. Fresh.
Work hard tomorrow.’

Exhausted figures began to
stumble away.

The creature stirred
restlessly. His hands were numb from cold. He scanned the figures,
seeking the one he had come for, but they all looked the same. It
was impossible to discern individual features. The creature sighed
again and slunk away down the street. He must take a further
risk.

The streetlights were already
dimming and patrolling guards lurked in every darkest corner. The
creature hurried: it screamed inwardly with frustration.

A voice echoed from the
darkness: ‘You’re out a bit late aren’t you… er…’

The creature turned slowly, and
saw a guard whose face was mostly hidden by a black glass visor.
The creature did not speak, but smiled a little. It would be
enough.

The guard cleared his throat,
gestured with his black gun. ‘Well… er… hurry along home. The
streets are no place for young… for you to frequent after
dark.’

The creature inclined its head
and walked away. He heard the buzz of static, then a faint metallic
voice issue from the communication device in the guard’s
helmet.

Jarad entered silently into his
apartment. He walked softly into the kitchen, so as not to awaken
his neighbours, for the walls were thin. He turned the light onto
dim and downed a swig of his week’s ration of milk. Unsatisfied, he
turned on the water tap, but the supply had already been
disconnected for the night. He shrugged resignedly and made his way
into the plush living room. At the threshold he turned up the light
a little.

The creature was curled up in a
chair, waiting for him. He regarded Jarad stonily.

Jarad’s entire body went hot,
then cold. ‘Why are you here?’ His voice was harsh.

The creature’s beautiful face
adopted a smile. ‘It’s where you live,’ he said.

Jarad wiped his mouth with the
back of one hand. He could still taste milk, and it was sour. ‘How
did you get in?’

The creature smiled wistfully.
‘I learned where you hide your spare key. Wasn’t that difficult.
Your mind print was all over it.’

‘You must go,’ said Jarad.

The creature shook his head
slowly.

‘You must,’ Jarad urged. ‘You
can’t stay here. You shouldn’t be here. Go!’

‘I can’t. You must know that.
If you want me out, you must use physical force. But I doubt you’d
do that either.’

Jarad flared his nostrils. ‘If
you’re found here...’ He shook his head. ‘You had no right to come,
to invade my privacy.’ He hesitated. ‘What do you want?’

‘Want?’ The creature extended
his legs, clad in soft leather, and rose from the chair. He
advanced upon Jarad and touched him on the cheek with a long
fingered hand. ‘I think you know.’

Jarad flinched away. ‘Get back
to where you came from.’

The creature laughed.
‘Remember, you came from there too, Jarad.’

‘I escaped,’ Jarad said. ‘My
choice. I won’t live that life. If you’re here to persuade me
otherwise, you’re wasting your time.’

‘You are deluding yourself,’
said the creature. ‘You can’t survive here. Not for long. You can’t
hide. Eventually, all this will be gone, and then what?’

‘If that happens, I’ll deal
with it. I live from day to day.’

The creature slunk back to the
chair and arranged himself gracefully. He crossed his legs and
rested his elbows upon the chair arms, linking his long fingers
beneath his chin.

Jarad felt as if the creature
stared holes in him.

‘It is just a sickness you
have,’ said the creature. ‘This fear, this denial. It can be
cured.’

‘Not your way.’

‘What happened was wrong,’ the
creature said. ‘You are not the only one to think it. There are
mistakes, because we are so young. It was a mistake. It can be
undone.’

‘It can’t,’ Jarad said. ‘You
are the mistake – all of you.’

‘Jarad… some things
can’t
be undone. You know that too. You are one of us.’

‘No,’ Jarad said. ‘I wasn’t
given a choice about that either. Now I make it.’

‘You can’t ignore what you
are.’

Jarad laughed coldly. ‘I’m
doing pretty well, thank you. Watch me. You can sit there as long
as you like, say what you like. It won’t change my mind.’

‘Sleep on it,’ said the
creature. ‘I’ll give you that time.’

Jarad shook his head. ‘It will
make no difference.’ With a final wordless sound, he loped to his
bedroom and shut the door carefully behind him. As he undressed, he
watched the door all the time and then lay in bed staring at it. He
shouldn’t sleep, but he was too tired to resist. He was always
tired.

Jarad awoke when the radio in
the wall chimed: ‘Awake! Awake! To work! To work hard! A good
breakfast and off you go!’

Jarad winced. There were prices
to pay for living in the ‘decent’ area of the city over which the
Society Government had tenuous ruling. Jarad stretched in his bed,
and then froze. He saw that the creature lay asleep beside him.
Typical
, thought Jarad.
Only you could sleep through such
an alarm.
But he couldn’t help smiling. The creature was naked
beneath the quilt, which covered him from the chest down. His tawny
skin was as smooth as fur. Jarad’s hands felt hot and dry. It took
all his strength not to reach out and touch. All his strength to
confine that heat to his hands.

‘I hate you, most beautiful of
creatures,’ he said aloud.

The lovely eyes unveiled at
once and blinked at him. ‘You talk in your sleep,’ the creature
said. ‘You never used to do that.’

‘How would you know? We never
slept together.’

Jarad got out of bed and
dressed himself quickly in his plain uniform clothes. ‘I’ll have to
get you out before the cleaners arrive,’ he said. ‘If you’re
seen…’

The creature laughed softly and
pulled the quilt over his head.

‘Get up!’ Jarad snapped. ‘If
you’re seen, security will be alerted.’

The creature sighed, and then
threw back the quilt. Jarad stared for a moment, then averted his
eyes.

The creature sat up. ‘Come
home, Jarad. We want you back with us.’

‘Who sent you?’ Jarad
asked.

The creature pushed back his
long honey-coloured hair that fell down over his chest, nearly to
his waist. ‘Not anyone in particular,’ he said, ‘although your name
has been mentioned often. You are a lost child, Jarad. We care for
you.’

Jarad laughed caustically.
‘Care? Is that what it is?’

‘Yes. Listen, I’ll be honest
with you. Manticker is planning an assault on City Heart. It will
be destroyed – you along with it, most likely. Get out now, while
you can. I know for sure that if you return to us, Wraxilan will
discipline those who wronged you.’

‘Why? Why should he care?’

‘The Lion cares for his own.
You are part of his phyle, part of Oomar.’

‘Yet you say he did not send
you, nor did he bother to look for me himself. You’re lying. He
doesn’t give a shit.’

The creature raked his hands
through his hair. ‘He didn’t know what happened. None of us did. We
only found out once you’d gone. You lost yourself pretty well. I
only found out where you were because we took someone who had heard
of you. That was a big coincidence. It was meant to be. Come home.
Wraxilan will give you a blade. You can cut throats with it, if
that’s what you want.’

‘Why should I be so important?’
Jarad asked. ‘Aren’t numbers the important thing? There is only one
of me. You can always find more, incept more.’

‘You are one of the best,’ the
creature said. ‘We cannot let you slip away like this.’

‘But look what I have here,’
Jarad said, making a sweeping gesture with one arm. ‘Would I have
all this back there? Warmth, comfort, clean water?’

‘You would have freedom,’ the
creature said softly, ‘and me also, if you so desired.’

Jarad made an angry sound.
‘Doesn’t everyone have you?’

The creature shrugged. ‘That
didn’t used to bother you. I know you wanted me, Jarad, and I’m
sorry I played with you. It was just a game, and I didn’t know
you’d simply disappear. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you
needed me.’ He grinned mordantly. ‘Do you see what you’ve done? I
just apologised and I never do that!’

BOOK: Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu
13.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Montana Hearts by Darlene Panzera
Aftershocks by Nancy Warren
Capturing Paris by Katharine Davis
The Duchess of the Shallows by Neil McGarry, Daniel Ravipinto
Buzz Cut by James W. Hall
Dance of Death by Edward Marston
Fire by Alan Rodgers
A Safe Place for Dying by Jack Fredrickson