No Other Love Read online

  * * * * *

  “What happened just then?” In the central room at Home, Tarik stood over the large computer-communicator, watching Carlis, the communications officer, at work.

  “All communications with the Kalina are blocked, Carlis announced. “I can’t make any contact with the ship. It must be the solar flares.”

  “Did they get my message to stay aboard beyond their four days, that we aren’t going to risk sending anyone up there in a shuttlecraft until these storms have ended?” Tarik asked.

  “I can’t be certain they received your last message,” Carlis admitted. “But Herne and Merin are both sensible people. They know better than to leave the safety of a well-shielded ship. Besides, they know the routine of not leaving the Kalina before the next crew arrives.”

  “It’s just possible,” Tarik said, recalling what Osiyar had said about them, “that they won’t mind a few more days together until things calm down.”

  * * * * *

  In an airy villa some distance beyond Tathan, a dark-haired woman faced a globe of glowing white light.

  “Remember, you promised no one would be hurt,” the woman said.

  “New knowledge is never gained without danger,” the light responded. “They have received my false message and they will be in position shortly. Our preparations are complete. It is too late now to change our plans.”

  “Then,” said the dark-haired woman, “it is time to begin the great experiment.”

  Part III

  Old Tathan

  Chapter 9

  “Doesn’t it strike you as odd,” Merin asked, “that while the entire ship has shut down, everything is working perfectly here on docking deck?”

  “I haven’t had time to think about it. I’ve been too busy stowing supplies and cleaning up, and at the moment, I’m just glad to be warm again. I never fully realized how cold space is until the heating system stopped, or how much I appreciate artificial light until we were left with only inadequate red emergency lighting. Not to mention the healthful effects of breathable air.”

  Herne filled his straining lungs with the clean air of the docking deck and felt his body readjust to the improved conditions. He and Merin had rushed through the last-minute check-off lists, trying to complete them before the environment aboard the Kalina became unlivable. They were leaving just in time. He had almost reached the shuttlecraft when the full impact of her words struck him. “What are you implying, Merin?”

  “I’m not sure. We are now in the segment of Kalina’s orbit that takes us over the southern hemisphere of Dulan’s Planet, across the South Pole, then northward again. For the next thirty-five minutes, Kalina will be south of the equator.”

  “And?”

  She glanced up, saw his tense expression, and knew he had made the same connection that she had.

  “When the systems on the ship began to shut down,” she informed him, “we were directly over the ruins of Tathan.”

  “The conditions aboard the Kalina,” he said, his words slow and careful, as though he was fighting with himself and trying to assemble his arguments, “are the result of severe solar storms and unusually large sunspots and flares. We are certain of that. To suggest anything else would be unscientific and irresponsible.”

  “Still, it is an interesting coincidence, isn’t it?” She paused before delivering the blow she hoped would make him angry enough to forget his new-found affection for her. “Perhaps Ananka wants to see you again.”

  “If that is intended as a joke, it’s in very bad taste.”

  An angry silence fell between them. It drew out while Merin waited, her hands still above the buttons. Herne faced her on the other side of the docking deck console. She could see his fists clenching and unclenching, in the way he had when he was trying to fight down his inner rage. She was surprised at how much it hurt her to remind him of the episode at Tathan. She ought to be immune to that kind of jealous pain, but it seemed she was not. The silence deepened. Herne said nothing more.

  “I shall set the outer hatch to open on a two-minute delay,” Merin spoke at last. “We must board the shuttlecraft at once.”

  “After your remarks about Tathan, I’m sorely tempted to leave you behind,” he growled.

  She hoped that statement meant he was as irritated with her as his frown seemed to indicate, but in case he was not she answered in the meek way she knew would annoy him even more, and she kept her eyes downcast.

  “If you wish me to remain aboard the Kalina, Herne, I shall do so.”

  “To die of cold and asphyxiation? What in the name of all the stars do you think I am?”

  “A Sibirnan, with a typical Sibirnan temper, which you are not keeping under control very well,” she replied as unemotionally as she could. She punched the console buttons with unnecessary vigor. “There. We have exactly two minutes until the hatch opens and the docking deck decompresses.”

  “What are you trying to do?” He was so suspicious that she knew he had seen through her clumsy attempt to put emotional distance between them. “Why are you deliberately trying to make me angry with you?”

  “I seem to be succeeding.” Picking up the softbag containing her few personal articles and toiletries, she started walking toward the shuttlecraft. Herne moved in front of her, blocking her way.

  “A little more than eight hours ago,” he said, “I held you in my arms and we almost made love.. You admitted that you wanted me. Now you treat me like an enemy and you throw the incident at Tathan in my face. Are you trying to make me hate you?”

  “What I am trying to do,” she said, “is reach the shuttlecraft before the docking hatch opens and we are sucked out into space.”

  “I won’t hate you, and I won’t let you make me angry,” he told her. “And no matter what you say or do, I won’t stop wanting you.”

  Knowing that there was, indeed, something she could say that would forever end his interest in her yet sworn not to reveal it, she dared make no answer. She walked around him and got into the shuttlecraft, taking the pilot’s seat. Herne sealed the shuttlecraft hatch, then took the navigator’s position across the aisle from her. He reached over to take her hand, holding it tightly when she would have pulled it away.

  “I think you are afraid of your feelings,” he said. “I believe that is what this attempted quarrel is about.”

  “If you will release my hand,” she replied coldly, “I have work to do.”

  “We will talk about this again, when we are safely on the ground,” he promised, releasing his grip on her.

  She turned her head away, pretending to check a gauge while she fought for self-control. She had assumed that he would take immediate offense at her remark about Ananka. She had not expected him to choose this time to be understanding. Unfortunately, he was right; she was afraid. She was terrified of the way her feelings for him grew every time she looked at him, and she was panic-stricken when she considered the certain result of giving way to those feelings.

  “Docking deck hatch is open,” Herne reported, his words recalling her to the job at hand “Deck atmosphere has decompressed.”

  Merin gave her full attention to the task of releasing the binding wires that kept the shuttlecraft in place during decompression. The engines started immediately and the shuttlecraft lifted off the docking deck and through the hatch. Once they were away from the Kalina, Herne plotted the downward spiraling course that was the standard maneuver to bring them toward Home, while Merin tried to contact Tarik.

  “I get nothing but static,” she said.

  “I’m not surprised.” Herne worked at his own instruments. “A major magnetic storm is going on. But, just a fifteen-minute ride and we can make our reports to Tarik in person.”

  He broke off as a blinding white light filled the shuttlecraft. The engines shuddered, died, then started again when the light faded.

  “What was that?” Merin lifted both hands to cover her eyes. “I feel nauseated, and I’m so dizzy. Herne, was that you la
ughing?” She glared at him in accusation, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

  Herne was slumped in the navigator’s seat. After a second or two he straightened, shaking his head as if to clear it.

  “I didn’t laugh,” he said. “We must have taken a direct hit from a bolt of lightning, and there is nothing funny about that. Do you realize we are off course?”

  “How can you tell? The instruments have gone mad. I have no idea where we are.” Merin fought back the nausea while trying to keep the shuttlecraft on a steady course. “Let’s get closer to the ground and see if that helps. If the instruments don’t settle down, I may have to land by sight alone. At least the viewscreen is still working.”

  Rubbing his forehead as if it ached, Herne squinted at the viewscreen.

  “Our present course will take us down on the wrong side of the planet,” he informed her. “How did that happen? It’s noon at Home, but this is the night side.”

  “I can see that. There’s daylight just ahead.” Fighting fluctuating malfunctions in the instruments, Marin guided the shuttlecraft toward the streak of light she could see along the horizon.

  “Damnation!” This expletive burst from Herne as they roared just above the treetops of a dense forest, and then out across a sparkling blue sea. They were now in full daylight. “Where are we? I don’t recognize anything.”

  “I do.” With both hands busy on the controls, Merin could spare only a quick nod of her head toward the viewscreen. “See the plateau and the cliffs? That’s Tathan, there on the plain beyond. I know the way home now.”

  “We aren’t going anywhere,” said Herne, checking the navigational instruments. “We have just lost all power except for the viewscreen.”

  They both fell silent, Merin wondering if Herne was remembering her comments aboard the Kalina, if he was considering, as she was, the possibility that they had been deliberately brought back to the ruined city by the creature who had for a while held Herne under her control.

  “If there is no power, then we’ll just land on the plain,” she told him, trying to sound calm. “Once we are down we can try to get the engines started again. Even if we don’t succeed, at least Tarik will be able to find us easily by the emergency beacon.”

  She was pleased when Herne didn’t insist on taking the controls away from her. He let her manage in her own way, let her use the shuttlecraft like a glider, looping around and around until they were low enough to for her to land it on the broad, flat plain with some hope that they could avoid a fatal crash. He did help her with the manual brake, which was difficult to use. She welcomed his strong hands next to hers on the lever, pulling back in unison with her efforts until, after a rough landing and a long, bouncing roll across soft turf, they came to a gentle stop.

  “Nicely done,” he complimented her. She made no response because she was busy trying to restart the engines. She pushed the buttons, but nothing happened. She tried again. Still there was no throb of smoothly functioning machinery, nor even the sound of a malfunction.

  “They won’t work,” Herne said. “Look at this panel, and this one, too. All of our instruments are dead. We can’t start the engines, and without power, we can’t call for help. The emergency generator is down, too, which means we have no beacon.”

  They both knew what that meant. When they did not appear at Home on schedule, Tarik would send out crews on the remaining two shuttlecraft to search for them, but without a beacon to mark their location, they would be difficult to find. The search would continue for a predetermined period before it was stopped on the assumption that they were dead. They had all agreed to this arrangement when they had first begun exploring the planet. Now, with no means of communicating with Home, they were on their own.

  “Let’s look at the engines,” Merin suggested. “Lift the deck panels. There must be something we can do to repair them.”

  They spent almost an hour on the engines.

  “There’s nothing wrong with either one,” said Herne. He finished replacing the movable panels over the engines, then crouched on the deck, watching her reaction to his conclusions. “It’s just like the Kalina. Everything checks out in perfect condition and fully functional, but nothing works. Every system on this shuttlecraft has shut down.”

  “Including the viewscreen now.” Merin was at the controls once more, trying every possibility to bring back the power.. “I guess we were lucky we could see through the landing. At least we know where we are.”

  “Don’t be too sure of that. From what I saw as we came in, the sea is too near for this to be Tathan, as you believe. Tathan was miles away from the water.”

  “I saw the ruins,” Merin insisted.

  “Perhaps there is more than one set of ruins on the planet.” For a moment Herne thought she might cry. Her eyes grew wide and frightened and her face began to crumple, but within a second she had pulled her usual smooth expression into place, with her gaze directed to the floor. And he, who at any other time would have welcomed any evidence of emotion from her, was relieved to see that she would not give way to it now.

  “We cannot remain immobilized inside a useless ship,” Merin said, picking up her ever-present recorder and moving toward the hatch. “If this is not Tathan, then we need to know where we have landed.” She stopped with one hand at her head, to take a gasping breath. Then she straightened with a brave lift of her chin that tugged at Herne’s heart. He wanted to touch her but knew she would not appreciate such a sign of his concern for her. He confined himself to a question.

  “Are you still dizzy?”

  “A little,” she admitted. “It will pass.”

  “I’m feeling unsettled, too, ever since that bolt of lightning hit us.”

  They stepped outside of the shuttlecraft into brilliant, reddish sunshine, made even brighter by its reflection off a calm blue sea. A glance at the sky showed them the directions, and Herne could understand Merin’s insistence that she knew where they were, for to the north rose the cliffs at the edge of the high plateau that formed the center of the continent. From the base of the cliffs stretched the lowland plain, its overall configuration familiar after their previous visit. But the forest Herne remembered from that visit was gone, and now a broad river meandered southward across the plain until it finally met the sea at the head of a curving harbor. There, where river and harbor joined, lay the buildings Merin had seen.

  “They don’t look like ruins to me,” Herne said, squinting so he could see more clearly. “They are only about a mile away. Perhaps we can find some answers there.” He began to walk eastward, toward the buildings in the distance.

  Merin went with him reluctantly, unwilling to be left alone with the disabled shuttlecraft, yet fearing what they might discover among the strange buildings.

  “Everything I see is wrong,” she objected as they drew nearer. “At Home it is early winter, which means that this far into the southern hemisphere it should be late spring, yet the vegetation is in late summer growth. I see planted farmland where forest should be. Nothing here makes sense.

  “Herne.” She caught his arm and pointed. Two human figures had emerged from a nearby stone cottage, hoes over their shoulders. Taking no notice of Herne and Merin, the figures began walking toward one of the fields that stretched north toward the cliffs.. “Herne, where are we? What has happened? Is this real?”

  “Good questions all,” Herne said. “Those two fellows don’t look like especially welcoming types, so let’s try that settlement up ahead. If we find nothing there, we can always stop here on our way back to the shuttlecraft.” He walked a few paces more before turning to look at her. “Are you coming with me, or are you going to stand there staring?”

  “I have to stare,” she told him. “As I should have expected, my recorder isn’t working. I will have to remember every detail so I can make an accurate report later.” With a gesture that indicated complete bewilderment, she hurried to catch up with Herne. They trudged on, side by side.

  As they
drew nearer to the harbor area, a salty breeze touched their faces, while above them a pair of seabirds cried. The faint sound of distant surf reached their ears. Merin sniffed the air appreciatively.

  “What is it?” Herne asked, watching her.

  “It smells familiar.” She was so confused and unsettled that she revealed too much. “I used to live by the sea.”

  “Oressia has a salty ocean?” Herne asked, fascinated by this spontaneous remark.

  “I should not have said that.” Her face grew closed and still.

  “Do you imagine we have somehow been transported to Oressia?” he asked. “That is impossible. Though, of course, all of this could be an illusion of some kind.”

  “It’s not Oressia.” A terrible suspicion had begun to grow in Merin’s mind, an idea so fantastic that she should have rejected it at once. Instead, spurred by Herne’s wild suggestion about Oressia, she began to explain to him her theory. It was based on what she had seen as they skimmed over the area before landing, combined with what she was now observing. “I think what we are seeing is Tathan, but not the Tathan we visited. And I hope it is an illusion, because if it is not…” Her words trailed off.

  “What are you saying?” Herne saw that her face was pinched and stark white, but after a couple of deep breaths she began again, speaking in a quiet, detached tone, explaining the unbelievable as if it were perfectly logical.

  “It is possible that over six centuries of neglect a harbor can fill with silt deposited by a river until there is no longer any harbor at all. Or a coastline might be changed by an earthquake or volcanic activity. We know both are frequent in the southern half of the continent. That could explain the discrepancy between the geography we discovered on our earlier expeditions and what we are seeing now. Certainly, six hundred years would be time enough to allow a forest to grow on deserted land.”