Guardian of the Crimson Eye

Author: Kirk Straughen

Synopsis:

Harkon, a young human who was orphaned as a child and raised by his alien foster parent, is the last guardian of the Crimson Eye. His quiet monastic existence is turned upside down by the unexpected arrival of strangers from Earth who develop sinister designs on the sacred relic he is guarding. Will he be able to foil there schemes, will he find love or be laid low by base treachery?

Edit history: Minor changes were made to this story on 5 July 2021.

Chapter 1: The Coming of the Star

Harkon wept as he watched the funeral pyre’s roaring blaze consume the body of Urith, his foster parent. That Urith wasn’t human made no difference to the young human. The loss was a deep ache in his soul that would take much time to heal. Harkon, as he contemplated the mystery of life and death, raised his teary eyes to the alien stars that spangled the dusky sky of En, a world that was nearly two thousand light years from Earth.

The flames in the cremation pit crackled, snapped. Smoke ascended the night air carrying Urith’s soul upwards to merge with the Infinite – an abstract philosophical concept engendered from meditation upon the numinous. Harkon composed himself, wiped away his tears; began the ritual chant for the dead. The alien words rolled off his tongue with the fluency of a native born, and he felt the soothing presence of Urith’s spirit come upon him.

Like ripples upon the surface of a pond, the words flowed out into the night dark jungle. The nocturnal sounds, ever-present at this hour fell silent. The world was suddenly still, as if in respect for the passing of a great being. Moments passed; Harkon concluded the ritual. The flames crackled, snapped. Sound once more crept into the night. Normality returned. No, not quite. Urith was dead, had passed peacefully in sleep, and things would never be the same again.

Calmer now, the young man stared at the flames meditatively, became lost in their leaping forms. The fire sank lower, died. Darkness closed in on the statue-still figure. After a time Harkon stirred. He turned from the smoldering ash which, in the dawn of the coming morning he would ritually scoop from the cremation pit and seal in a funerary urn. The urn would then be placed in the temple’s crypt along with hundreds of generations of departed Guardians of the Crimson Eye.

Harkon exited the funerary grove by its winding stele lined path. Soon, the jungle gave way to the bare terraced pinnacle of the mountain upon which stood the ruins of the monastery, its crumbling majesty strangely tinged by the light of the Green Moon. As he climbed the broad stairs to the more intact section of the complex the young man began to feel the full weight of the responsibility that had been placed upon him. He had known this day would come. Urith had been aged when it had discovered the five year old human in the wreckage of the spaceship and nursed the badly injured child back to health. Harkon touched the scar on his forehead. Even now, after the passing of fifteen years, it occasionally ached.

The young man remembered very little of his life before the crash. Vague images of beings who may have been his parents; a strange four footed animal chasing a ball, outlandish green trees, not at all like the pale lavender growths of this world of En. Who was he? Where was he from? He didn’t look at all like Urith. His foster parent was tall and angular. Urith’s reedy humanoid body was clad in black scales. The being’s eyes, as brilliant as emeralds, were serpentine and the face as pointed as the gaunt physique.

To an Earthman Urith would have appeared exceedingly strange, the being’s physiognomy unsettling, its hermaphrodite gender disturbing. But Harkon held no prejudices. Urith had been a parent to him, a teacher, and a friend. Each had come to love the other and now Harkon was determined to fulfill the duty that had been entrusted to him. Urith had been the last of the Guardians of the Crimson Eye. Knowing this it had spent many years preparing Harkon for this role, a role the young man meant to fulfill out of love for his foster parent. Although he did not know his past he took comfort from the fact that he knew his purpose.

He paused on the uppermost step of the terrace. A strange premonition had suddenly come upon him. Gazing up at the sky Harkon beheld a brilliant star, but it was no ordinary star. It was descending from heaven, slowly sinking to earth. Lower it came, lower still, slower still. The star sank into the jungle choked valley below the monastery. Its radiance lit up that area of the forest like a miniature sunrise. The light dimmed, vanished. Harkon stared into the darkness, unnerved by the strangeness of what he had seen and fearful of what it might portend.

**********

It was early morning. Harkon stepped from the crypt having completed the funerary rites. He gazed about the ancient temple which adjoined the monastic citadel. It was a simple structure, cubical in form with a central courtyard and surrounding peristyle whose ranks of pillars were three columns deep. The temple, like the monastery, was built of indigo stone marbled with cream inclusions. Like the monastery, it was a heavy structure of thick walls and square columns, brooding in its solidity. Muted light from the central court filtered through the deep peristyle where shadows hid behind the massive pillars. It was place of silence and stillness. Not even the wind dared sigh between its towering columns.

Harkon was disturbed, but it was not the eeriness of his surroundings that unsettled him. No, it was the strange sight of the descending star. His sleep had been troubled by formless dreams of dark and indistinct menace. What it portended he did not know and that worried him even more. He walked out into the bright sunshine of the courtyard, crossed it and stepped within the peristyle of the temple’s eastern side. He reverently approached the shrine that had been constructed here. It was a large alcove cut into the temple’s thick wall and sealed by double doors of solid bronze.

The doors, twice the height of a tall man and half as wide, were studded with bronze pyramidal projections. Harkon, with deft hands and long experience twisted one projection, then another and another. The doors swung wide to reveal the stone altar within on which rested the Crimson Eye, held in its golden goblet-shaped cradle. Harkon’s unease abated somewhat. The relic was safe. It had not been spirited away in the dead of night by mysterious forces.

Harkon’s reverent gaze traced the sacred object’s form. It was a scarlet dodecahedron about the size of a basketball. According to legend it had fallen from the sky five hundred years ago during the reign of Exu the Great, ruler of the City of Q’tenn. The stone had come to be considered a gift from the Infinite, and a cult of veneration had grown up around the mysterious object with much wealth flowing into Q’tenn’s coffers from pilgrims visiting its healing shrine.

The rulers of other cities became jealous of Q’tenn’s growing prosperity and influence. They conspired against Q’tenn in avaricious jealousy. War, red and roaring erupted. Q’tenn was overrun, sacked, its people enslaved. But the eye was gone, smuggled out through secret ways and taken to the distant refuge of this hidden citadel. The centuries passed. The citadel was forgotten. The monks grew fewer due to inbreeding, cut off from the world and fearing to make their presence known least greedy beings again cast rapacious eyes upon the sacred fetish of the cult.

And now the strange star had come. Was it another gift from the Infinite or some unholy menace? Harkon wasn’t sure, couldn’t be sure either way. But what he did know was that he had two choices – he could either stay within the comforting familiarity of the monastery, or venture forth and investigate the unknown. For long moments he stood staring at the Crimson Eye, seeking guidance from the Infinite. Gradually, his resolve firmed. The decision was made – he would seek the star. Better to confront the mystery than take no action and be beset by gnawing fear. But first he must prepare.

**********

Jeru Luin stood in the airlock of the globe-ship gazing out at En’s primordial jungle of strange growths. Their tiger striped warty trunks were stout and supported by a pyramidal tract of branching stilt roots. The limbs were wide-branching and terminated in multiple rosette crowns of long shiny fleshy leaves whose curving pale lavender forms were edged with black serrations.

A strange mist rose from the jungle floor, partially obscuring the dense undergrowth of rosette plants whose stiffly erect leaves were variegated in dark lavender and vivid yellow. Spiny lianas dripped from the weird trees, their white translucent cubical flowers scenting the air with strange perfumes. Unknown creatures made indeterminate by dense shadows flitted through the unfamiliar forest completing a scene of elemental and alien fecundity.

Jeru shivered. She was a city girl from a wealthy family – the product of an ultra-modern civilization whose sprawl had consumed much of Earth’s wilderness, leaving mere shadows of the natural world: insipid landscapes bereft of untamed wildness. The sight before her was unnerving in its strangeness, its dramatic contrast to all that was familiar.

The sound of footsteps coming up the gangway made her turn, and she gazed upon the handsome visage of Bryce Remin with concern, not only about the space-drive’s failure but also because of his untoward and disturbing behavior.

“Are the ship’s systems fixed yet?” she asked, worriedly.

“The robot servitors are still working on them. I just don’t understand why so many things went wrong simultaneously.” Then, unconcernedly: “Relax; it’ll be repaired in a few hours. In the meantime let’s enjoy ourselves,” he continued with a lascivious grin as he pulled her roughly to him.

“Please Bryce,” she gasped as she attempted to free herself from his unwelcome embrace. “I came with you purely out of interest in the improved drive unit you’ve developed, nothing more. Now let go of me.”

Remin scowled. “You didn’t give that impression at yesterday’s party,” he growled, still holding on to her.

“I was being friendly,” she angrily replied as she pushed him away, “not flirtatious. It’s not my fault if you misread things.”

Remin muttered a low oath. Behind the façade of his charming and cultured exterior was the soul of a brute. It wasn’t the first time he’d molested an unsuspecting woman. His wealth made him feel he was above the law, and his family’s power and influence had enabled him to get away with such crimes on previous occasions. To him women were merely objects to be used to fulfill his base passions.

He cruelly grasped Jeru’s breast. The shocked girl cried in fear and pain. She struck him a savage blow across the face. Remin staggered back, blood flowing from a cut lip. His eyes were wild with lust and fury. All pretence at gentlemanly behavior was now completely ended. He leapt upon her like a savage dog. Clawing fingers ripped the filmy gown she wore. Both tumbled to the metallic floor.

Jeru cried out, thrust her fingers into his eyes as he tore her undergarments. Remin screamed. She shoved him off. In wild panic Jeru raced down the ship’s boarding ramp. Her rent underwear slipped, tangled her feet. She crashed to earth at the bottom of the incline. A terrified backward glance showed Remin staggering to his feet, coming for her. Desperately, she kicked free of the ensnaring cloth and raced stark naked into the sinister jungle, the spur of utter terror goading her swift flight.

**********

Jeru, bedraggled and soiled, leaned heavily against a tree, heart pounding in fear and exertion, and breathing hard from her headlong rush. She had managed to elude Remin in the dense undergrowth. He had crashed through it, passing her by, and the noise of his blundering passage had faded to silence some five minutes ago.

Slowly, the young woman settled. The danger had passed for the moment and she was able to think more calmly. It was a shocking turn of events. She had been introduced to Remin by a mutual friend. Remin had seemed such a decent fellow – polite, charming, cultured and trustworthy. Her father, Numar Luin was the owner of Cosmadyne Engineering, a leading manufacturer of space drives. Jeru shared his interest in this technology, and when Remen had invited her for a test run of his prototype she had accepted his offer out of scientific interest.

Her father was always on the lookout for brilliant men and women in this field, and at the time she felt Remin might be one of them. With her father’s consent they had set out from Earth about six hours ago. Things had gone well at first, but as time went by she began to notice a disturbing change in Remin’s behavior. His jokes became more ribald; then descended into outright crudity, and he began to stare at her in a predatory manner that added to her growing disquiet.

With a shudder Jeru remembered: He’d had her pressed up against a bulkhead when the alarm went off. The whooping of the claxon cooled his ardor like a bucket of ice cold water in the face. The drive failed and the globe-ship emerged unexpectedly from hyperspace. Jeru gasped in horror. Through the observation port a blazing star swelled before them as they plunged towards its fiery heart.

In a panic Remin leapt for the controls as more alarms madly clanged. The ship veered away under his guidance. Disaster had been narrowly averted, but was swiftly replaced by another menace. A world was before them, unknown, uncharted – a mere dot at first, but growing rapidly with swiftly closing distance. More alarms sounded as additional systems began to fail. The helm was dead. A collision was imminent. Remin spat sulfurous oaths, flicked switches, stabbed buttons. Backup systems automatically took over. The ship’s internal fields came on, shielding its occupants from the tremendous forces as the craft began to furiously decelerate.

The ship’s AI initiated the emergency landing. Turbulence struck wildly as the vessel plunged into the planet’s atmosphere. For a moment the fields failed. Jeru cried in fright and pain as she was flung violently to the deck. The end seemed upon her. Remin uttered more oaths, ineffectually stabbed more buttons. The ship stabilized as the additional auto-failsafe activated. The fields snapped back. The craft retarded its mad plunge. It decelerated rapidly, slowed further until it descended into a glade of the strange forest, and settled gently upon the soil of the alien world called En…

Jeru brought her mind back to the present. Although the danger from Remin had abated, there were no doubt other perils lurking in the depths of this savage jungle. She looked around, unnerved by the thought and the unsettling sight of the alien forest that crowded menacingly all about her. She must get back to the ship before Remin, lock herself in, and wait for the craft’s robots to repair the damage. But then what? She didn’t know the pass-codes that would give her access to the vessel’s flight and navigation systems. Jeru pushed that thought aside for later. Her first priority was to find the ship.

The young woman turned to retrace her steps; then stopped. The craft was nowhere to be seen. In every direction the strange jungle was unfamiliar to her anxious gaze. During her mad fifteen minute flight she had been forced dodge and weave between trees, and around dense masses of other growth in such a twisting manner that she had lost all sense of direction. The awful truth came upon her – she was completely disorientated.

Jeru cursed. If Remin attacked her again she wouldn’t flee. She’d fight her fear; fight him too - tooth and nail with no holds barred. She’d subdue the brute and force him to take her back to Earth where he’d be punished for his despicable behavior. It was her only hope.

A sharp crack suddenly sounded behind her. Jeru started, turned, expecting Remin. But the sight that met her gaze was much more terrifying.

Chapter 2: The Wild Man

The alien beast stood several yards away, its head poking through the verdure. Jeru took a frightened backward step, stumbled and fell against the bole of a towering tree. The thing hissed venomously, advanced, came fully into view and disclosed the complete hideousness of its form to the frightened girl.

It was about the size of a Great Dane and its body shape was roughly canine. The head though was parrot-like in form and the snapping beak fanged. A bizarre double row of lengthy parallel spines ran along its neck and back. Its body was clad in shorter spines like those of a hedgehog and patterned in the manner of a leopard. Powerful legs ended in ostrich-like feet. Its dark eyes, mounted in conical turrets were sinisterly fixed upon its prey.

It hissed again, short spiked tail viciously slashing the air. The beast crouched, prepared to spring. Jeru dodged around the tree as it leapt. It crashed against the trunk, claws tearing wildly. Jeru bolted. In an instant the monster was in swift pursuit of the fleeing girl. Jeru crashed through the hindering undergrowth. A fallen tree was suddenly in her path. She tried to vault it. Her foot caught. She fell heavily to earth on its other side.

The sound of the monster crashing through the verdure was terrifying. Jeru tried to stand, to flee. She cried in pain. Her ankle had been twisted in the fall. She stumbled, collapsed. The horrid ravenous monster would be upon her in mere seconds. Jeru looked wildly about. Her frightened gaze locked upon a gaping hollow in the fallen tree. She scuttled for it, forced her body through the opening as the savage beast leapt across the rotting trunk.

Jeru wormed her way deeper within the hollow as the monster madly tore decaying wood. Chips flew beneath its frightful claws. Jeru coughed on wood dust. A section of the crumbling trunk was ripped away. The thing shoved its ugly head through the hole and Jeru screamed in wild terror as its fang lined beak snapped mere inches from her flesh.

**********

Harkon paused and wiped the sweat from his brow. He’d been travelling since early morning, slowly descending the jungle clad mountain to the forested floor of the valley. Now he stood several kimin from the slope and if his calculations were correct he should be in the general vicinity of the strange object that had descended from the heavens. Again, he wondered what it might be.

Urith, his foster parent, had taught him all the science that was known to the Guardians. The stars were thought to be distant suns, and some philosophers had even speculated that other worlds like En might orbit them. If so then whatever it was couldn’t be a star, for if it was its blazing heat would have set alight the jungle.

Harkon’s musings were interrupted by a high pitched cry the likes of which he’d never heard before. Instinctively, he sensed it was a desperate plea for help, but by whom, by what? For a moment he stood confused, many questions tumbling through his mind. Again, the strange sound was repeated, forceful in its appeal for succor.

The young man acted. He raced towards the wild, terror filled cry and in but moments came upon the scene: The savage thaban’s head was thrust within a hollow log, its vicious beak snapping at its hidden prey. The monster withdrew its vile head at the sound of Harkon’s swift approach. It hissed foully as its brutal eyes locked upon the youth. Here was food more easily had.

In an instant the fearsome beast was at him. Harkon thrust his brass bound spear at its ugly face. The thaban nimbly dodged his lunge. It struck again. Harkon leapt aside, swung his weapon. The spear’s mace-like butt slammed against its spiny flank. The monster spun around, pounced. Harkon rammed his point against its breast. The thing hissed furiously, leapt away. Protected by its spines it was only slightly wounded.

Man and beast now circled each other with respectful wariness. The monster hissed. Its spines rose aggressively, intimidating, making it look even larger. It leapt. Harkon thrust. The thaban’s sweeping claw knocked aside the stabbing spear, tore it from the young man’s grasp. He went down beneath its claws. Harkon fought through agony as the beast’s fanged beak sought his throat. With one hand he fended off its maw; with the other he drew his knife, stabbed wildly. The slim bronze blade slipped between the spines, sank deep into its throat. Crimson blood gushed. The horror coughed, stumbled sideways. It fell, convulsed for a few seconds and then lay still.

Gasping from pain, Harkon slowly rose to a knee. There was a deep gash in his shoulder from the thaban’s claws, another upon his thigh and more wounds on his hand where its spines had pierced him. The wounds were bleeding profusely and he knew he had to act quickly. From a pouch he drew forth a brass bottle and liberally poured a clear oily fluid over his injuries. The fluid cleansed his wounds and reacted with the blood. Within five seconds the liquid had solidified to a firm rubber-like consistency, staunching the flow and acting as a local anesthetic with antiseptic properties.

Carefully, he stood. He was a little dizzy, but that would pass. Harkon turned his attention to the log. Something was still in there, something that had made the strange cry which had prompted him to act. But what could it be, and why had it had such an effect upon him? He wiped his knife clean, retrieved his spear and cautiously approached the fallen tree, both weapons ready.

He carefully peered within the hole torn larger by the thaban, spear ready for a deadly thrust and knife poised for a fatal stab if needed. Harkon froze in surprise. A pale frightened face stared back at him: a face similar to his own, but different – softer, hairless and strangely alluring. It was the last thing he’d expected to see.

The sight of the young man was just as surprising to Jeru. She’d heard the battle between Harkon and the thaban, but supposed another monster had attacked the first. By lying still and quiet she’d hoped the victor would feast upon the vanquished, and thus occupied leave her unmolested. That she didn’t have to face an inhuman monstrosity was a relief. But her apprehension was not entirely abated – the appearance of this blood splattered wild man with his deadly spear and wicked knife was hardly reassuring.

Her worried eyes took in his visage. His long hair was auburn and hung to his waist in a single thick braid. His face was bearded but neatly trimmed. His tanned skin was a lighter shade of his dark brown eyes. What she could see of his physique matched his face – broad, and strong in appearance. He was clad in a brief black animal skin loincloth supported by a wide leather belt from which hung several pouches. In her sophisticated eyes he looked every inch a savage.

Jeru was in a quandary. She couldn’t stay in the hollow, but to go out and face this wild man might prove as great a threat as the savage beast he’d clearly slain. And besides, she was completely nude. This knowledge and his steady inquisitive gaze made her hotly blush, for the society of her age was quite conservative – a sharp contrast to the libertine values of earlier times.

Harkon noted her blush, but was completely mystified by the color change. What was this strange creature so similar and yet different from him? What were those odd protrusions on its chest that it tried to cover with its hands? Was it injured, in shock from wounds? Harkon laid down his weapons for it seemed harmless enough. He reached into the hollow and grasped the odd being.

It writhed and screamed madly as he drew it forth, but it was no match for his great strength and soon he had it standing on its feet. The young man looked it over with curious eyes as it stood struggling in his grip. Its hair was short, the tight ash blond curls cut close to the head. Its eyes were sky blue and its skin almost as pale as its hair. The being was slim and small, lightly muscled.

From what he could see there were no obvious signs of injury. But puzzlingly, it continued to hold one arm across its large chest protrusions, and the other hand was pressed to the junction of its thighs where there was no protrusion at all. Perhaps this is where the problem lay. As gently as he could he forced its arms behind its back and snared both slim wrists in the grip of a single powerful hand.

Jeru screamed as his exploring fingers gently grasped her breast. Assuming the worst she lashed out with her foot. Harkon gasped as he was booted in the shin. He let go. Jeru turned to run, but her twisted ankle gave out and she fell heavily to the ground. The young man snatched up his knife and spear. The creature was not as harmless as he’d thought. He leapt forward for the fatal thrust. Jeru flung up an arm. Her cry and piteous terrified expression halted Harkon’s swift attack.

He lowered his spear and gazed at the strange being in a morass of confusing emotions. The creature had attacked him. It was obviously dangerous. Perhaps its sudden and mysterious appearance was linked to the descending star. If that were so then killing it was probably even more imperative. Yet he stayed his hand. As he gazed upon it the being stirred strange emotions within him, especially when he had felt the protrusions on its chest. It was all very confusing.

That the young man was confused was only natural. Harkon was ignorant of women, of human sexuality and its mores, and even his own body was somewhat of a mystery to him. Urith, his foster parent, was an alien that knew nothing of humanity. Reproduction, both physically and psychologically for Urith’s kind, was completely different. It couldn’t teach him anything about human relationships.

Harkon again gazed at the strange being. It had quieted a little. He approached it warily, weapons at the ready should it again attack him.

“No … please,” gasped Jeru as she again raised her arm defensively.

Harkon halted, startled. The words sounded familiar. His memory of his mother tongue, although faded, had not completely vanished.

“No,” he repeated, puzzled as he groped for meaning.

More words burst forth from the strange being in a torrent. Harkon frowned, shook his head at the babble. It was too swift, too confusing.

He moved forward. The being scuttled away from him. Harkon thrust his spear into a quiver-like container slung on his back and sheathed his knife. “Help,” he said as he pointed at her.

Jeru calmed a little. Incredibly, he could speak something of her language. Who was he? How did he get here? More importantly, did he plan to rape her? Again she tensed as he gathered her in his arms and effortlessly lifted her from the ground. She prepared to thrust her fingers into his eyes. But his face, as he gazed at her, was free from guile. He seemed more curious than anything else, and she gained the distinct impression that he’d never seen a woman before. Jeru didn’t trust him entirely. She’d made that mistake with Remin, and wasn’t about to repeat it. However, at the moment he presented the least dangerous threat so she lay quiescent in his arms.

Harkon continued to gaze intently at her as he ruminated. This was an unexpected complication in his quest for the fallen star. The being could speak the dimly remembered language of his early childhood. Perhaps it had answers to the questions that his foster parent couldn’t provide – who was he and where from? Was he a single being – a freak of nature, or were there more of his kind; and what of the star? Perhaps the being had the answer to this question also. The young man came to a decision. The being’s ankle was injured. It needed healing. He would return to the monastery. The star could wait for the moment.

“I … help,” he haltingly said to the girl as he turned in the direction of his home.

**********

Jeru looked in wonder at the massive temple they now stood before. It had taken two hours to climb the mountainside by way of winding tracks, and as the grueling ascent progressed she could not help but be impressed by Harkon’s strength and stamina, for never once did he stop to rest along the way.

They’d conversed on the trek, but it had proved to be a stilted conversation frustrating for both. Harkon’s knowledge of English was very rudimentary, and he often lapsed into another tongue which to her was of course completely unintelligible. Despite this barrier Jeru was able deduce the bare essentials of the young man’s circumstance – that Harkon had been marooned upon this world when very young, and that as a consequence memory of his human heritage was extremely dim.

Jeru’s contemplation of the alien architecture was interrupted as Harkon set her on her feet, supporting her with one arm about her lissome waist as she stood upon her uninjured foot.

“Ibbis,” he said, pointing at the temple, giving it its indigenous name. Then he drew her gaze to two huge statues that flanked its mighty doorway. He touched his chest then pointed at the right hand carving. “My … parent. Dead … now,” he sadly concluded.

Jeru inwardly shuddered as she gazed upon the sculpture of the alien being. It had been carved from black stone. The body was tall and angular. The carving was very detailed and the scaly skin clearly delineated. The serpentine eyes were set with green gems, possibly huge emeralds, and the inhuman face was as pointed as its gaunt physique. It was completely nude. The chest was flat. There was no sign of breasts or even nipples and between its legs was a slit similar to the cloacae found in earthly birds.

Although not shown in the statue, during intercourse each partner would evert their reproductive organs from this slit. Both organs – frilled serpentine members - would then entwine and fan out to form a translucent flower-like globe of pale lavender. Lovemaking and fertilization occurred externally – a system entirely different from that of human beings.

The two statues were saintly images of the founders of the cult. Jeru didn’t know this, but she did know that the carving Harkon pointed at couldn’t be his literal parent. It was rather a representation of the kind of being who’d raised him. This knowledge was unsettling. What kind of alien influences had been exerted on her companion? He was human physically, but who could say what bizarre ideas lurked beneath the façade of his humanity. Only one other species of intelligent life had so far been discovered (space drive technology being a recent development) – the insect-like creatures of Thyla IV. Would her companion prove as equally strange?

She’d begun to feel more comfortable in his presence, but the facts now presented to her heightened her awareness of the gulf that lay between them. These were the troubling thoughts passing through her mind as Harkon picked her up and carried her through the temple’s impressive doorway, and again she was the tense and anxious woman that he’d first met.

Unknown to Harkon as he entered, another pair of human eyes was intently upon him. Remin, sweat streaked and panting from the grueling climb, scowled as the couple vanished within the shadows of the huge building. He’d spotted them purely by chance and had been as shocked as Jeru at the sight of another man upon this alien world. He’d followed them, cautiously keeping his distance until he had a better idea of the situation.

Remin, a vain man, considered himself an athlete and egotistically something of a Casanova. By now he felt utterly humiliated. Harkon had effortlessly outpaced him and Jeru wasn’t resisting the embrace of this dirty savage as she had his own, which added to his sense of outraged pride. His initial caution had given way to all consuming jealousy. His narrow calculating eyes took in the monastery, noted its largely ruined state. It was apparent that apart from Jeru and the savage it was deserted. An evil smile marred Remin’s face. There were no pesky crowds to interfere. He stalked towards the building with hatred in his heart and a heavy branch in his brawny fist.

Chapter 3: Forced Seduction

Harkon effortlessly carried Jeru to the temple’s altar where he knelt and set her gently on the floor. Here, he paused for a moment, frowning in concentration as he groped for long disused words, half forgot. At last memory came to him, and he pointed at the shrine’s double doors.

“Medicine,” he said, and then gently touched her injured ankle.

Jeru was uneasy. Her companion was a wild man – a savage raised by aliens. The temple itself was shadowed, mysterious and had about it an aura of indefinable otherness that added to her disquiet. And the so called medicine he planned to give her was no doubt as barbaric as this primitive setting implied. She wanted to flee wildly, but her injured ankle precluded all possibility of escape and besides, where could she run to even if uninjured?

She watched tensely as he deftly turned the bronze doors’ pyramidal projections. The portal swung wide and she beheld the Crimson Eye resting in its golden goblet-shaped cradle. Reverently, Harkon brought it forth and Jeru saw it was a scarlet dodecahedron about the size of a basketball. At first she thought it a giant ruby, but then remembered that when rubies crystallize they formed tabular hexagonal prisms.

More curious now than afraid, Jeru examined it closely as Harkon set the huge gemstone, still resting in its cradle, beside her injured ankle.

“Medicine,” he mysteriously explained as he placed one hand on the gem’s apex and the other on her injury.

Harkon closed his eyes, focused his thoughts. He sensed the power that resided in the Crimson Eye, felt his mind merge with it. Its tingling warmth flowed through him, penetrating his entire being like supernal light - as if he was as crystalline as the strange gemstone he touched. He directed the flow as the force cascaded, channeled it through his other arm and then the hand that rested upon Jeru’s injury.

Jeru felt the tingling warmth flowing into her. The dull ache in her ankle melted away under its beneficent influence and she gasped in amazement. A distracting flash of movement caught her eye, breaking her wonderment. She turned and saw a shocking sight - Remin rushing towards her, a wolfish expression marring his handsome visage and a heavy branch held aloft in preparation for the lethal stroke.

Harkon spun about at her sudden cry of alarm. Remin was upon him. The club swept down in a killing blow. He swung up an arm and smacked his palm against the plunging weapon, sweeping it aside. From a kneeling position he leapt upon the cursing man. Jeru rolled aside as both combatants crashed to the floor, commenced to wrestle furiously.

Remin again swung his makeshift weapon. Harkon caught his wrist, twisted it. Remin cried in pain, dropped the club. Harkon’s hand closed about his throat, tightened like a noose. In sheer desperation Remin slammed the heel of his palm beneath Harkon’s chin. The vicious blow flung back Harkon’s head, dazing him. Remin thrust free; scrambled to his feet and aimed a brutal kick at his opponent’s head.

The blow would have landed with fatal results had Jeru not flung herself upon his back with vigor. Remin staggered. Both fell heavily as Harkon struggled to his knees. The young man saw the girl grappling with the cursing man. His dazed wits cleared. He drew his knife and leapt upon his adversary. Grasping Remin’s hair Harkon jerked back the fellow’s head and placed the blade against his foeman’s throat in preparation to slit it like a chicken.

“Stop,” cried Jeru, for she knew with Remin’s death her chances of returning home were zero, for only he knew the pass-codes to the ship.

Harkon hesitated. He looked at the girl, then his adversary. The being whose hair he still held was even more like him than the other softer creature. Strangeness was piling on strangeness. He was tempted to kill his attacker, but the smaller being placed its hand upon his arm. Again, its touch stirred within him strange indefinable and unsettling emotions. It was all very confusing. He needed time to think.

The young man removed his blade from Remin’s throat and with the knife’s heavy pommel struck his foe across the head. Jeru gasped as Remin slumped upon the floor.

“Sleep,” explained Harkon pointing to the unconscious man. Then, from his pouch he took a snare and with the twine securely bound the prisoner.

**********

An hour had passed. Remin lay roped hand and foot upon the dusty floor of a long dead monk’s sleeping cell. His initial rage had settled to a simmering anger. That his predicament was his own fault wasn’t something that he would admit to anyone let alone himself. Someone else was always to blame: Jeru’s rejection of him, her interference in his battle with the savage; the fact that his opponent was a savage. But he wasn’t deterred. His arrogance prevented any notion of defeat. Where brute strength failed cunning would win the day. He’d have his revenge yet.

Remin’s scheming was interrupted by a slight sound. He looked up and saw Jeru peeking through the doorway of his cell. Harkon was working in the monastery’s extensive vegetable garden, tending the crops that were vital to his survival, and the girl had taken advantage of his absence to surreptitiously look in on the prisoner.

The engineer’s anger was quickly replaced by another emotion as he snared her with his steady gaze. Jeru blushed under his admiring scrutiny. She had cleansed herself in the monastery’s large bathing pool, which was fed by an aqueduct that brought clean water from a nearby cataract on the higher slope. Harkon had given her a spare garment – a brief animal skin loincloth supported by a wide leather belt. She was no longer completely nude, but her full firm breasts were bare, and it was these that the lascivious eyes of the temperamental man now focused on.

“I knew you’d come,” he grinned with arrogant confidence.

Jeru stiffened. Her full lips thinned and she turned to walk away, nettled by his smug and leering attitude. She could have kicked herself. She knew it would be a mistake coming so soon. She should have let him stew in his own juice a while longer to obliterate the rawness of his overblown conceit.

“I wouldn’t do that,” he calmly warned. “You don’t know the pass-codes for the ship’s systems. I’m the only hope you have of getting off this jungle choked mud-ball that passes for a planet, and you know it. Why else would you come to see me?”

Jeru folded her arms across her breasts. She turned around and glared at Remin, struggling to control her anger.

“What do you propose?” she asked coldly, hating the man and the fact that he was right.

“First, tell me what you know of the savage and that huge gem I briefly glimpsed.”

Jeru swallowed her anger and complied, outlining her deductions concerning Harkon, and concluding thus: “As for the gemstone, well I have no idea what it is. But I do know it has amazing healing properties. I couldn’t walk at all, but now it’s as if my ankle had never been injured.”

“A new medical treatment,” murmured Remin to himself. “There’s a lot of money to be made from that.” Then to Jeru: “Convince the savage I attacked him because I thought he was going to harm you - that it was all a terrible misunderstanding. Then persuade him to free me. When I’m free we can grab that gem and be out of here.”

“I’ll try and gain your freedom because I must. But I’ll have nothing to do with base thievery,” she contemptuously replied. “Haven’t you enough money?”

“You can never have too much money. Besides, I need it as a financial safety net for the risk of helping your father. To do so is a chancy undertaking that will cost me greatly if things go wrong.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“Before we left he took me aside for a private meeting. Do you remember that? Good, I see you do. Well, the gist of it is that your father is in deep financial trouble – a series of bad investments. The financial institutions won’t lend him any more money. He pleaded with me for help, even offered me joint ownership of the company as collateral for a personal loan. I said I’d think about it, consider my own finances before giving him an answer as there’s a lot of money involved.”

“I don’t believe you,” she angrily responded.

“Really? Haven’t you noticed he’s been rather worried lately, not his usual cheerful self? He’s been hiding things from you and your mother. Your family is in danger of losing everything.”

Jeru gasped in shock. She had noticed a change in her father’s behavior. She’d questioned him, but he’d merely brushed away her concerns, explaining that he’d been working too hard and had allayed her fears by promising to slow down. She looked at Remin and he grinned when he saw fear writ large upon her face.

“It’s a hard world,” he said without sympathy. “You do whatever is necessary to survive. From what you’ve told me that savage is childlike. It should be easy to manipulate him. Get me free and help me get that gem. Seduce him if you must. In return I’ll help your father and save him from the disgrace of financial ruination.”

**********

Jeru surreptitiously watched Harkon as he ate. The young man had finished tending his crops. Remin had been fed and still lay bound in his cell, and now they were having lunch, enjoying the fruits of Harkon’s labor. The food consisted of marrow-like vegetables, hexagonal in cross section and each averaging a foot in length. The thick skin was spiky in texture and dark red in color, turning black when baked. The cooked viands had been cut in half lengthwise to reveal a flesh of bread-like consistency which was eaten with a wooden spoon. Jeru found the flavor surprisingly pleasing for such simple fare. It reminded her of spiced peanuts.

Again, the young woman looked at Harkon. Could she seduce him? Should she seduce him? Jeru found herself in a moral quandary. Remin was her only ticket home. If she ever wanted to see her parents again she’d have to assist him with his nefarious scheme. And then there was her father’s situation to consider. He was a good man, but not a strong one. The impending financial disaster would destroy him.

Jeru silently cursed Remin for putting her in this situation. By seducing Harkon she felt she would be no better than a whore. The whole grubby exercise was repugnant, and even if she went through with it could Remin be trusted to keep his promises? Jeru felt she had no choice but to go along with Remin’s scheme, at least to some extent. The sexual aspect of it would be a last resort. The biggest problem at the moment was the language barrier. Perhaps she could get the gem with clever words rather than her parted thighs.

“Harkon,” she said, and then continued when the young man looked at her: “Spoon,” she explained, pointing at the utensil. “This is a spoon.”

And thus Harkon’s language lessons commenced.

**********

Harkon gazed out upon the wild vista from the vantage point of the monastery’s roofed observation tower. Three days had passed since his language lessons had intensely begun. Jeru proved to be an able teacher and he an eager student, and under her tutelage the young man had now regained much of his mother tongue. That he and his companions were from Earth was quite a revelation along with many other things.

The young man looked down into the monastery’s courtyard, which the tower abutted. Below he saw Jeru and Remin arguing, their heated tones having drawn his gaze. Harkon’s eyes narrowed as they focused on the engineer’s burly frame. He didn’t like the man. There was something about him that roused his suspicion and anger, particularly when he was in close proximity to Jeru. He wondered why he’d let her convince him to free the fellow.

Harkon knew he was inexperienced in dealing with people and found the pair confusing. Urith, the only person he had known during his journey to adulthood, had been an honest forthright being. There was no subtlety to his foster parent. If he asked a question he would always receive a direct and truthful answer. There were no secrets between them; no lies, no obfuscation. But his uninvited guests were opaque enigmas. Something was going on, something he should be aware of, but wasn’t.

Indeed, the presence of the pair filled him with a disturbing tumult of contrary emotions. Harkon muttered a bitter oath and cursed the intrusion of the Earthlings whose arrival had upset his tranquil and ordered existence. He felt like driving them out into the hostile wilderness. But Remin had said their ship was wrecked beyond repair and they, like him, were now marooned upon this world of En. It was of course a half-truth to gain the young man’s sympathy and one that, so far, had proved effective.

Harkon shifted his gaze to the woman and relented in his hostility as his eyes took in her beauty. The feelings she aroused within him were of an entirely different order than those engendered by Remin. He now knew Jeru was a woman and he a man. He’d questioned her earlier in the morning on the significance of their physical differences. She’d blushed hotly at the directness of his curiosity and was obviously hesitant to elucidate the matter. He’d been puzzled by her reticence, but hadn’t persisted, telling her they could discuss things another time and had then excused himself as he needed to attend to his monastic duties.

As he’d turned away she’d relented. Jeru was becoming increasingly desperate. With each passing day she knew her parents would be growing more and more worried by her absence. Her attempts to get Harkon to again show her the Crimson Eye had failed – it was only brought forth from its vault-like shrine when needed for healing or during rituals, the next of which was many months away.

Of course Harkon had no way of knowing these things when Jeru took him aside into a shadowed area of the monastery and began to explicitly show him the intimate parts her body as she guiding his curious hands, nor had he any idea that her efforts were aimed at seduction rather than education.

Although alien raised and ignorant of such matters Harkon was nonetheless human. He possessed innate sexual instincts that were awakening, and things may have progressed to their natural conclusion had not Jeru spotted Remin peering at them from behind a pillar in voyeuristic delight. The girl had gasped in shock and mortified embarrassment, and had fled weeping in shame, leaving Harkon in a state of considerable frustration and confusion.

The young man brought his mind to the present. He should be focused on his lookout duties. The season of Imris had commenced – a time when the vithe would swarm in their thousands. The things were a deadly menace, but could be dealt with if not caught by surprise. It would be harder without Urith’s help. He’d have to teach the Earthlings to be sentinels.

In his mind’s eye Harkon saw the malefic horrors as his scrutinizing gaze swept the skyline. Each vithe was about as big as a sparrow, but what they lacked in size they more than made up for in numbers and ferocity. The things were bat-like in general appearance, particularly the wing configuration. The skin was covered with silvery scales as fine as those of a skink. The head, jaws and teeth, however, were the most disconcerting aspect of the horrors for they resembled those of the piranha. Yellow serpentine eyes and a whip-like tail ending in a deadly sting completed their unsettling appearance.

A sudden scream shattered Harkon’s concentration. Hot anger came upon him as he peered over the railing. Jeru was struggling in Remin’s crushing grip. Their argument had escalated and the brute had overstepped the mark. The sight swept away all other considerations.

The young man dashed to a pole that thrust through the turret’s floor. With reckless speed he slid down it like a fireman. Harkon let go six feet from the ground. His souls slammed against the paving. Consumed by fury, he charged through the tower’s doorway to aid the screaming girl. Remin heard him. The engineer thrust Jeru away and jerked the kitchen knife from his boot’s hiding place. Harkon drew his own blade in response.

Both men leapt at each other with the murderous rage of wild tigers. But as the brawlers did so, unbeknown to them, a sinister swarm swept around a towering peak some miles away. Sunlight glittered on the monster’s silvery forms, glistened on their beating bat-like wings. Their yellow eyes, alive with brute instinct, focused on the nearby monastery. The undulating cloud of scaly forms sharply turned. The horrors, in a storm of wings, raced towards the ruins, driven by the goad of feral hunger to fall upon their unsuspecting prey.

Chapter 4: Treachery

Harkon caught his foe’s knife-hand. Remin did likewise to his enemy. They wrestled furiously, each striving with all his might. Remin strove to knee his opponent. Harkon twisted his adversary, jerked him sideways and threw him to the ground. The engineer rolled to his feet, slashed madly forcing Harkon to leap away. Remin lunged. Harkon sidestepped the deadly thrust, lashed out with a kick. His heel struck Remin’s wrist and sent the knife flying from his cursing foeman’s hand.

Jeru’s sudden scream froze both combatants.

“Look,” she cried, pointing skyward. A silver cloud of living screeching nightmares was above them, blotting out the sun.

“Vithe,” gasped Harkon as in mass the monsters swept down upon the trio, their fang lined jaws ravenously agape. “Quickly, follow me,” he cried as he dashed across the courtyard to an open doorway sheltered by its portico.

Jeru and Remin quickly followed, all conflict forgotten for the moment. The trio bolted for their very lives. They sped in terror to the building’s sanctuary as the awful creatures dived upon them with rapacious ferocity. The girl threw a glance behind her, gasped in wild fear. The flock of screeching horrors was but yards away – so close that she could see the snapping of their savage jaws.

The sight was a spur to the racing girl. She put on a burst of wild speed, passed Remin and shot through the open portal just behind Harkon. Remin burst into the room hot upon her heels and Harkon slammed the door behind him. The young man swore. He hadn’t been quite fast enough – two of the horrors had managed to get within the building and in an instant they dived upon the trio.

Harkon ducked, slashed madly with his knife. One Vithe screeched as its wing was sheared away. It fell to the floor, sting armed tail lashing in agony. A cry of terror and pain drew the young man’s gaze. He gasped in fear. The other vithie was clinging to Jeru’s back; its sting was in her side. Harkon leapt towards her as she collapsed upon the floor. He tore the horror off her, swiftly slit its throat and flung the thing away.

Remin came up to him as he worriedly knelt beside the moaning girl.

“Will she die?” he queried.

“I can save her,” replied Harkon as he examined the unconscious girl.

“What about the other monsters?” queried Remin with more concern as he warily looked all around the room.

Harkon’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he stared at Remin in disgust. For the moment an unspoken and uneasy truce had emerged. There would, however, be a reckoning in the long run, but that would have to wait.

“Wire mesh on the windows will keep them out. The other doors are locked,” he explained as he gathered Jeru in his arms, stood and quickly walked away with the girl slung across his shoulder.

Remin followed, not wishing to be left alone. They rapidly traversed a maze of rooms and descended a flight of steps in an area of the building the engineer was unfamiliar with. Harkon twisted three pyramidal bronze projections on an alloy portal at the bottom of the steps. The thick door swung open. Before him was a low ceilinged tunnel illuminated by large glass jars. These had been placed in niches and within the containers grew bioluminescent fungi that put forth an eerie greenish light.

Harkon turned to Remin. “You will stay here,” he sharply said. “You need not fear. You will be safe.”

Remin gave no sign of his inward rage. He didn’t appreciate an inferior curtly speaking to him with the further implication of cowardice. Instead, he gave Harkon a bland smile that hid his inner feelings. “As you say, I will stay here,” he agreed with false acquiescence.

Harkon turned and entered the tunnel. He pulled another lever and the heavy door clanged shut in the fuming engineer’s face. He didn't trust Remin and didn't want him anywhere near the Crimson Eye when he was using it, The young man gave his adversary no further thought as he anxiously focused of Jeru. The girl was still unconscious, her breathing labored. He quickened his pace, driven by fear for his companion’s life.

Shortly, the tunnel debouched into a low circular room beneath the temple’s shrine – a secondary emergency vault in which the cult’s relics could be secured in the event of attack. In the middle of the room were four metallic columns rising up to the ceiling and beside them a lever set in the floor. Harkon gently laid Jeru by this lever and quickly pulled it. The rumbling of hidden machinery sounded and the pillars began to swiftly sink into the floor. In less than a minute the shrine’s altar on which rested the Crimson Eye, held in its golden goblet-shaped cradle, was lowered into view.

Harkon slid a thick bronze plate on rollers across the aperture through which the altar had descended and locked it in position. He quickly grabbed the gem and began the healing process without the worry of Remin at his back. He became a conduit for the force within the stone. Its power flowed through him and into Jeru. He focused the force, sensed the toxin disintegrate under its beneficent influence, saw the bleeding wound in the girl’s side begin to heal.

He was almost done when a footstep sounded behind him. But before he could turn around to confront the threat a heavy glass cylinder crashed against his skull with fracturing force and he fell senseless to the floor.

**********

Harkon regained consciousness. He slowly sat up and touched his head. His hair was matted with dry blood, but there was no sign of the wound from whence it had come. For several moments he sat confused, then memory swept in – someone had hit him from behind. He looked wildly about. Jeru was gone and so was the Crimson Eye. Only shattered glass remained.

Consternation propelled Harkon to his feet. Dizziness seized him. For a moment he reeled dangerously then quickly sat least he fall. His mind was in a tumult. He closed his eyes and calmed his bolting thoughts. Order soon emerged from chaos and he deduced it all.

Remin must have seen how he’d twisted the door’s projections and figured out the combination to the vault. One of the heavy glass jars containing the bioluminescent fungi had proven a convenient weapon. He’d been left for dead. Indeed, the fractured skull he’d received would have killed him but for the fact his body still contained a sufficient charge of healing energy to cure his injury. Fortunately, Remin hadn’t realized this otherwise he felt sure the engineer would have finished him for good.

But why would he steal the Crimson Eye? What good would it do him? Where could he go? Unless… The painful truth at last dawned upon Harkon. The damage to Remin’s ship must be repairable. He’d been planning to steal the gem all along and take it back to Earth. He’d simply been waiting for an opportunity and correctly guessed that where Harkon went the Crimson Eye was sure to be. But what was far more painful to the young man was the knowledge Jeru was involved in Remin’s wicked scheme.

Her betrayal was like a knife in the back. He felt deeply hurt and ashamed of his own naivety. He felt he’d been made a fool of. He’d failed in his duty as a guardian of the Crimson Eye, failed Urith who had placed faith in him. Harkon, overcome by sweeping emotion, wept a fall of bitter tears.

After a time Harkon dried his eyes. Nothing could be accomplished by sitting in the dust. He must redeem himself by recovering that which had been foully stolen and in addition punish the perpetrators. He rose on steady legs. Remin had a good head start and he had to hurry. The young man’s face was set with grim determination as he left the chamber to gather his weapons.

**********

Jeru struggled in her bonds in a desperate attempt to free herself, but it was useless. Remin had cut strips of leather from her loincloth and had used these to tie her wrists securely. And upon arriving at the ship he had placed additional bonds around her ankles restraining her completely. It had been a shock to find herself his captive when she’d awoken from the healing. But what had been more shocking was the sight of Harkon lying near to her inert, his hair besmirched with blood. The awful sight was impressed upon her memory as was the expression of gloating triumph upon Remin’s handsome visage. It was an ugly thing to see, but not as ugly as the words he spoke to her.

“Yes’ I’ve killed him,” he openly admitted. “Oh, no,” he interrupted when she violently decried him. “You can’t wash your hands of this. You tried to seduce him to get the stone. What would daddy think when he finds out his little girl acted like a brazen whore with an unwashed savage? You may not have killed him but you’re still my accomplice. That’s why you’ll say nothing of it when we return to Earth. We found this gem in the ruins of an abandoned temple – that’s the story. And if you want me to save your father from financial ruin as well as keep quiet about your scandalous behavior you’d better stick to it.”

Jeru had burst out weeping at these words. Remin merely laughed at her distress as he grasped her roughly and hoisted her to her feet. Then he grabbed the gem and they departed. Remin possessed a locator that homed in on the vessel’s beacon, and the journey back to the globe-ship had been uneventful for the vithie had abandoned their futile attack. They’d moved on in search of easier prey.

Along the way Jeru had much to think about in the way of self-reflection, and most of it was unflattering. She had regarded Harkon as a savage – ignorant and beneath her station. But who were the real savages? He had helped her, saved her life and giver her food and shelter. She could have warned him of Remin’s plot, but she had kept silent thinking mostly of herself, and her silence had led to his death. Despite all her education and cultured manners she now felt that Harkon was a better person. It was a sobering conclusion.

The tramp of Remin’s boots as he came down the ship’s ramp, as well as his muttered oaths broke through Jeru’s musings. He looked down at her as she knelt in the dirt by the foot of the incline. The expression he wore showed that things had not proceeded as planned and she smiled at the thought he’d been badly stymied.

“Sabotage,” he grimly said. “Some bastard sabotaged the ship. That’s why so many systems failed. The robots have completed their analysis. Critical components have been damaged beyond repair. We’re marooned! What are you grinning at,” he said, glaring at her. “Do you think this is funny?”

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” Jeru replied. “A man like you would make enemies. Perhaps an outraged employee whose wife of daughter you molested? Ah, by your expression I see my guess is likely true. Well, it serves you right. All your scheming has come to nothing, and I’m glad.”

Remin, his expression feral, spewed forth a string of profanities. Jeru, wracked by guilt and wanting to hurt the brute in any way she could, uttered a mocking contemptuous laugh. The engineer lost all self control. A wild and savage look crawled across his face. His fingers curled like the claws of a beast. A howl of unbridled rage exploded from his throat and then he leapt upon Jeru and savagely knocked her to the ground.

Brutal hands closed upon the girl’s throat, cutting off her cry. Remin straddled her, grinning madly as he strangled her with vicious sadism. Fear came upon Jeru. Her vision began to dim. Terror lent her strength. She jerked her knees up. They struck Remin in the groin. He collapsed moaning, clutching himself.

The girl gasped air into her lungs, lay weakly. Remin fought through his agony, crawled towards her, unholy murder stamped upon his face. Jeru kicked out. The engineer caught her ankle, grinned madly as he grasped the other and pulled himself ever nearer to the wildly struggling girl.

Jeru fought wildly. Remin uttered a crazed laugh as he hauled his torso upon her shins, pinning her legs. His brutal hands flipped aside her brief loincloth. She screamed as his fingers reached for her.

Another wild cry froze the man.

The engineer jerked his head around. His eyes went wide with shock. Harkon, very much alive, stood thirty yards away. The young man, with a look of merciless determination advanced towards the engineer, spear poised for swift revenge upon his foe.

Remin pulled himself together. Unarmed he knew he stood no chance against his skilled opponent. The engineer fumbled at his belt. Grasping the dangling remote he pushed a button on the instrument to summon aid.

Harkon was almost upon the engineer when a clanking sound drew his gaze to the globe-ship’s entry port. He froze in shock for down the incline marched two man-like things of metal. They came at him – steel monsters whose iron strength could tear a man in two.

Remin laughed at his enemy’s consternation. Jeru’s joy at seeing the living man quickly turned to fear as she struggled upright for she knew Harkon stood no chance against opponents of metallic might.

Chapter 5: Secret of the Wreck

“Run,” cried Jeru in warning as the robots advanced towards Harkon. “You can’t kill them. They are machines. They are not alive.”

Remin snarled an oath. He struck Jeru cross the mouth. Harkon swore as the girl fell to earth, blood spilling from her injured lip. The young man hurled his weighty knife with fury. Remin tried to dodge. The pommel of the whirling weapon struck the engineer a heavy blow upon the temple. He sank senseless to the ground. Then the first robot was upon Harkon and he was fighting for his life.

Harkon thrust his spear. Its point glanced off the metal torso. The robot grabbed the weapon’s haft and tore it from his hand with brutal strength. The young man ducked its grasping limbs. He wrapped his arms about the robot’s waist. Heaving with all his might he flung the thing over his shoulder and sent it crashing head first to the ground.

Sparks erupted from the robot’s broken neck. But there was no time for a victory shout. The second machine was swiftly upon him. He evaded its clutch, but only just for the thing moved as swiftly and fluidly as a human. Again it came at him. He sidestepped its rush, stuck out a foot and tripped the mechanism.

The robot fell. Harkon leapt on its back. He swiftly grabbed its arm in a martial arts technique designed to break the limb. The maneuver would have worked on a living being. But Harkon, unfamiliar with advanced technology, had underestimated the strength of his mechanical opponent. The robot broke his grip as if he was a child. Swiftly, it turned upon him, clasped him in its steely arms that gripped with vice-like surety.

Harkon gasped as crushing agony came upon him. The thing was immensely strong. The young man couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. He stared into the robot’s black lenses – cold and dark as death; inhuman and implacable. He struggled vainly. The machine’s limbs tightened their relentless grip in an iron bear hug. His vision blurred as he slid towards death’s abyss. Darkness closed its grim hand upon him.

Jeru looked on in horror as Harkon’s body went limp. The frightening sight was a spur to swift action. She rolled towards the still unconscious engineer. Her bound hands fumbled for the remote upon his belt. With numb fingers she desperately pushed buttons. She glanced at the robot, the limp victim within its iron clutch. Harkon had gone pale, was as still as death. With a sob of anguish she found the kill switch, pushed it.

The machine relaxed its grip. Harkon slipped to the earth, lay still. Tormented by extreme anxiety, Jeru rolled to the young man’s side and flung her head upon his chest listening for a heartbeat. She heard the faint but steady rhythm and wept with vast relief.

He lay there for a time as he recovered, body aching as if he’d been trampled by a wild thrim – a monstrous herbivore of vile disposition. The haze of agony cleared from his mind. He became aware of the weeping girl. He placed his hands upon Jeru and gently eased her off him. Harkon rose to an elbow and stared at her with troubled eyes.

“What am I to think of you? What am I to do with you?” he said more to himself than to her.

A groan broke the silence of her downcast gaze. Harkon quickly turned and saw that Remin was regaining consciousness. He swiftly moved to the moaning engineer, retrieved his knife and prepared to cut the felon’s throat.

“Wait,” cried Jeru when Harkon pressed the blade to his victim’s neck.

The young man looked at her, puzzled and angry. “This man has harmed me and mistreated you. He is a menace and should be killed. Why wait?”

“He is my only chance of getting home,” replied Jeru, then she tearfully explained how Remin had blackmailed her into helping him, and how bitterly she regretted it. “I just want to go home and be with my family,” Jeru concluded mournfully.

Harkon looked upon Jeru with compassion. He felt he should be angry with her, but couldn’t find it within himself to be so. She didn’t belong here. The thought of her leaving was as painful to him as Urith’s passing. But this wasn’t her world. She had family and he had none. A gulf lay between them of station, duty and culture.

“Yes,” he sadly said. “Perhaps it is best for all of us if you go home.”

**********

Harkon gazed at the wreck of another ship, now overgrown with vines and creepers. It was the one in which Urith had discovered him fifteen years ago. Here and there shafts of sunlight glinted off patches of metal not yet smothered by overlying verdure. The destruction wrought by the crash had been healed by Nature. The long ovoid hull, crumpled by impact, was surrounded by tall regrowth. The jungle was slowly engulfing the craft, demonstrating its supremacy over the transitory works of humanity.

The young man turned to Jeru, now clad in a spare jumpsuit. “It looks an utter mess,” he said. “Do you really think there is any chance of finding parts to replace the damaged mechanisms of Remin’s globe-ship?”

“It’s my only hope,” replied Jeru. The young woman looked at Remin. The engineer, hands bound and weighed down by a backpack full of tools, returned her stare with a sullen gaze.

“Well?” she said to him. “What is your opinion now that you’ve seen the condition of the ship?”

“I can’t tell from out here,” he replied in a dour manner. “I’ll need to examine the propulsion systems. The vessel looks pretty banged up. I’m not hopeful.”

“You had better give your all,” warned Jeru. “You’ll have to face justice when we get back to Earth, but it will be of a kinder sort than you’ll find here. Now, let’s go in and see what we can salvage.”

Harkon tugged at the leash about Remin’s neck. The engineer muttered an oath as he stumbled towards an open port whose valve had sprung on impact. They paused for a moment by the entrance to light their torches – large oily nuts of the kopu tree that Harkon had impaled on thin branches. The trio then entered the gloom of the contorted wreck. Creepers had insinuated themselves within the ship. Dead leaves and the nests of small creatures could be seen here and there. Curious eyes gleamed in the ruddy light of the flambeaux. Dark and flitting forms rustled in the shadows.

Jeru looked curiously about as Harkon led them to the place where Urith had discovered him. The ship was no common vessel. Signs of wealth were obvious despite the damage and layers of grime. The floors were covered in costly carpet whose thread of gold designs glittered in the torchlight against the soiled blue of the velvety weave. The interior was richly paneled in mahogany that was intricately carved with scenes from classical mythology. Though broken and shattered, the hand of a master artist could still be seen in their fragmentary remains. Even common things such as light switches were of bespoke craftsmanship. Clearly, the vessel was the pleasure ship of someone very rich.

They continued down the central gangway, stepping over and around the remains of broken machinery that had been torn loose by the impact and had burst through the high ceiling. Further on were opulent staterooms. Jeru thrust her burning torch into one. Forlorn ruination and decay met her inquisitive gaze. Shortly, they emerged into a globular room containing a huge transparent orb divided into quadrants that was mounted within a sphere comprised of rings, and connected to it by cylindrical shock absorbers. The sphere of rings was in turn held within the centre of the globular chamber by additional shock absorbers, many of which had either snapped or burst under the terrific force of the crash.

“That is where Urith found me,” said Harkon, pointing to the central lucid sphere whose interior was padded with something like bubble wrap. The mechanism had four hatches, one to each segment of the globe, that were accessed by ladders of synthetic rope.

“When my parent opened the door,” continued Harkon, “I was in it, unconscious and with a bad head wound. Urith nursed me back to health. But for him I would have surely died. I don’t remember much of my former life due to the injury - only vague images as insubstantial as smoke. There were no other people, alive or dead. The other segments of the globe were empty. What happened to the crew? Who can tell?”

Jeru couldn’t tell, either, as she held aloft her flickering torch and gazed at the survival globe and its supporting mechanisms – obsolete technology now replaced by force field generators. Nonetheless, the device had enabled Harkon to survive the crash – a crash whose impact would have surely killed any outside the central sphere. Her roving eyes widened as her gaze came to rest upon a monogram of crimson enamel that had been emblazoned upon a sable shield affixed to the central globe.

She recognized the emblem, heretofore hidden by the shrouding gloom. It was the sigil of the House of Laurent – the most notable of the ruling families of the Martian League – the colonies that had gained their independence from old Earth. Mars, now terraformed to the point where it was a planetary parkland with manicured forests and sculpted seascapes, had grown fabulously wealthy from a monopoly on the wonder drug vitalisium, which could restore youth and health to the aged.

Of course none of the Martian aristocrats were related to the nobles of Earth. All their titles were self-styled. But such was their power and influence that those who considered these airs a conceited affectation were wise enough to keep such opinions strictly to themselves.

Wealth, though, does not make for happiness. The House of Laurent had had its share of tragedy. A bitter divorce rent the family of Lord Asbury Laurent and his wife, Lady Jayne. The situation deteriorated over a custody dispute, and reached its dire culmination when Lord Asbury kidnapped his five year old son, Roland, and fled in his space-yacht Venture. Neither father nor son had ever been seen again, but Lady Jayne had never given up hope that one day she’d be reunited with her long lost boy.

What disaster had overtaken Venture was impossible to tell; what had befallen Lord Asbury after the crash was an enigma. But it was clear that Harkon was his son. This primitive savage who stood next to her was in fact the scion of the most notable family in the solar system. Something of the shock must have shown on Jeru’s face, for Harkon returned her stare with worry.

“What is it?” he asked concernedly.

“I… I know who you really are,” Jeru replied, and then told him of the nature of her discovery and what it all implied. “Your mother is still alive,” she concluded. “You must return to Mars and meet her. She has never given up hope that someday she would be reunited with you.”

Harkon stood quite still. The glow of the flickering torch cast his face into a study of light and shadow. Joy and turmoil played in quick succession across his visage in conflicting emotions. At last the mystery of his origins had been fully elucidated. His mother was still alive. He wanted to see her, to meet her. But he also loved Urith and felt duty bound to fulfill the role of Guardian, which he was uncertain he could do if he returned to Mars. For a moment the power of his inner turmoil came close to overwhelming him, and he staggered for a second. Jeru placed a steadying hand upon him.

“Are you all right?” she worriedly asked.

“It’s been quite a revelation,” he shakily replied. “I’ll be fine… But this talk of seeing my mother may be premature,” he continued soberly. “We’ve yet to fix your ship.”

Jeru gravely nodded. “Let’s press on to engineering and see what we can find.”

**********

The stern of the ship was a mess. The hull had split, opening the vessel to the sky. A litter of leaves and other organic debris fouled the drive chamber and its blocky field generators, and it had taken some time to clear a space to work in.

Remin carefully wrapped another salvaged component in protective synthetic cloth, and placed it in his backpack. Luckily, the parts needed to repair Remin’s space-globe had survived the disastrous crash of the Venture. The engineer was far from happy, though. The knowledge that Harkon wasn’t the unwashed savage he’d thought rankled deeply, adding to his hatred of the man.

No doubt Harkon would return to Mars with Jeru. His mother, Lady Jayne, would surely reward Jeru handsomely for bringing her long lost son home. The wealth of the House of Laurent was immense. Lady Jayne could easily pay off the debts of Jeru’s father many times over. The House of Laurent was a respected family. Harkon, in turn, would share in that respect. He’d be believed when he testified at Remin’s trial, and would no doubt vigorously defend Jeru’s reputation. Remin wouldn’t have a hold over her. With that kind of opposition the engineer knew he was doomed. His future would be one of disgrace and imprisonment.

The thought of such a fall was too much for a man like Remin. He’d die first before allowing that to happen. But it wasn’t suicide the engineer plotted. All the components he needed were now in his backpack. His hands had been freed so he could salvage them. Desperation leant wings to his thoughts. A plan formed in his seething brain.

He glanced surreptitiously at Harkon. The young man appeared to be distracted, no doubt mulling over the revelation of his origins and their implications. Clearly, he was being pulled one way and then another in a tug-o-war of conflicting desires. Jeru sat next to him, her cold eyes upon the engineer. She was alert, but unarmed. It was the savage he had to neutralize.

“Harkon,” Remin called out. “Give me a hand with this final component and then I’m done.”

Jeru placed a hand on Harkon’s arm as he stepped forward. “Wait,” she said. “Give me your spear. I don’t trust Remin. I’ll stand behind him should he try something.”

Remin remained outwardly calm as the couple approached. But inwardly he cursed Jeru with vile oaths.

Harkon squatted beside Remin who knelt by an open panel in the ship’s drive unit. He peered curiously into the large aperture. Within were fist size cubes, spheres and other Platonic shapes, each linked to the other by rods to form a complex lattice of strange mechanisms.

“Here,” said Remin, passing him a cable. “Hold this while I loosen that green component.”

Harkon complied. Remin disconnected another cable. The engineer quickly touched it to his enemy’s wrist, and so swiftly was it done that all but Remin were taken by surprise. Power from the atomic batteries still flowed through some components. The voltage struck Harkon like a body blow. He screamed. His body convulsed, flinging him against Jeru’s legs.

The couple went down in a tangle of limbs. The engineer snatched up his backpack. He grabbed the burning torches. Remin bolted for the exit and, with an evil smirk, tossed one flambeaux behind him. It fell amongst the filth upon the floor. Flames leapt up as dry leaves instantly ignited. The crackling conflagration began to quickly spread. Jeru gasped in horror as she struggled up. The exit was blocked by roaring fire that raced towards her with tigerish ferocity.

Chapter 6: A Way Out

“Harkon,” gasped Jeru, coughing as she shook him. “Get up. We have to get out of here.”

The young man nodded weakly as he rose to an elbow. Fear gripped him. They were trapped up against the ship’s field generators by a semicircle of leaping flames. The cleared area had stopped the fire’s advance, but the chamber was quickly filling with smoke as the conflagration began to spread to other areas. In but moments they’d be suffocated.

“Smoke rises,” he said as he pulled Jeru to the deck. “The air will be cleaner near the floor.”

Gazing up Harkon saw billowing smoke slithering through the rent hull. Quickly, he unwound the length of rope about his waist, part of which he’d used to bind Remin. Looking about the young man spotted the crowbar the engineer, in his haste, had left behind. He swiftly bound the rope about its middle.

“Stay down,” he warned Jeru, then took several deep breaths of clean air. He stood, spun the weighted rope in a whirl, cast it at the gaping crack. The crowbar struck the edge with a clang, fell.

Harkon silently cursed. The smoke was rapidly thickening. In but moments it would completely blind his vision. Again, he made a desperate cast. Again his aim was foiled by gathering gloom. A third throw and the bar was through. He hauled the rope, prayed. The crowbar caught, held fast. Harkon sank upon his belly, sucked more air into his starving lungs and bound the rope beneath Jeru’s armpits.

“I’ll pull you out,” he gasped between coughing.

The girl nodded. The air was rapidly fouling. The smothering smoke had thickened to a point where the high ceiling was hidden by its roiling turgidity. Harkon sucked in a final gulp of the tainted air. He held his breath and began his ascent, desperate and frightened for Jeru. The reek of smoke stung his eyes, his nose. His body was slick with sweat. The leaping flames had made an oven of the drive chamber. He struggled up, breath held. Sweat slick hands slipped on the rope. He nearly fell. He wanted to breath, fought the fatal urge for the air was now thick with toxins from burning synthetics.

Muscles trembling he fought on. Sheer willpower drove his flagging limbs. Blackness shrouded him. His shaking hand closed upon the crowbar that spanned the crack in the vessel’s hull. Elation leant him strength. Harkon hauled his body through. He crawled clear and into breathable air, heaving it into his starved lungs. But there was no time to rest. Jeru was still trapped below and the leaping fire would be eating up her air.

Harkon drove himself. He began to haul on the rope with all the strength and rapidity he could summon. His wearied muscles were on the verge of giving out. He gasped great lungfuls of air and his racing heart seemed about to explode in his chest. Jeru’s limp head and sagging shoulders came into view, shrouded by swirling smoke.

With a mighty effort Harkon hauled her clear and well away from the billowing smoke. He collapsed beside her, gasping. The girl was unconscious, maybe dead. Fear goaded Harkon. He pressed his lips to hers, breathed air into her as Urith had taught him. Her chest rose, fell. The young man pressed on, grew dizzy, nauseous, poisoned by the toxins in the smoke, some of which had been absorbed through the mucous membranes of his eyes. His vision blurred. Desperately, he fought the creeping shadow, but to no avail. Darkness engulfed him in a rush and he sank within its ebon pit of black oblivion.

**********

Harkon regained awareness. He was lying where he had collapsed, weak and still slightly nauseous. The poisons had proved incapacitating, but not fatal. A tenuous coil of smoke rose from the rent hull, indicating that the raging fire had died down, and that he had been unconscious for many minutes. Jeru lay next to him. Vast relief came upon him when he saw she was breathing steadily. She was bedraggled, soot stained and her clothes were torn in places where the fabric had caught on jagged metal. Despite all this Harkon thought she was the most wondrous sight he’d ever seen. He placed his hand on her shoulder. Jeru’s eyes opened at his touch and he told her how he felt.

“You flatter me with exaggerations,” she skeptically replied as she examined her state of disarray.

“Flattery,” he repeated, puzzled. “I don’t know what that means. What I do know is that I spoke the truth.”

Jeru gazed at him and saw he was sincere. There was longing in her expression as she kissed him, tentatively at first, then with rising passion. They embraced with fervor. Jeru’s breathe quickened. Her body trembled with desire, but the rational aspect of her mind would not give way to wild Eros at the moment.

“Remin,” she gasped. “The globe-ship … Much time has passed … He must have nearly reached it.”

Harkon bit back a curse. Jeru was right. They’d left the Crimson Eye aboard his craft. If Remin repaired the ship he could take the gem and leave them stranded upon this world of En. Reluctantly, he released his passionate hold upon the girl.

“I’m sorry,” she said as he helped her up.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he reassured her. “Come, we’d better go.”

**********

They reached the globe-ship without incident, but with struggle for it was some time before their strength fully returned, aided by fruit and medicinal plants Harkon had found along the way. The spacecraft hadn’t taken off, but the airlock was securely fastened and seemingly for all intent and purposes it might as well have gone.

“Is there no other way in?” asked Harkon as he stared with frustration at the ship’s towering bulk, its weighty mass supported by tripod landing gear.

“Maybe,” replied Jeru as her gaze fixed upon the broken robot – the one Harkon had destroyed. “Those machines,” she explained as she pointed at the mechanism which lay some yards away “have electronic keys that give access to all the ship’s compartments. Remin, in his haste, appears to have forgotten this.”

Harkon followed Jeru as she walked towards the robot. The girl knelt beside the broken mechanism and asked for her companion’s knife, which he gave her. Using the blade’s tip she began to unscrew the robotic hand’s wrist articulators.

Jeru had been working for about a minute when a sudden hum drew her gaze. She cursed bitterly. The sound was the ship’s propulsion rings powering up. A final recalcitrant screw remained. With an oath Jeru tugged desperately at the mechanical hand. Harkon swiftly leant his strength to hers. Between them they wrenched it free, raced to the craft. The ramp had been retracted. The airlock was many feet above their heads.

“Get on my shoulders,” cried Harkon as he swiftly knelt.

Jeru complied. The humming propulsion rings increased their droning tempo as he raised her up. She slapped the robot’s detached hand against the airlock’s key-plate. The valve began to open. Jeru tossed the hand inside, slipped her arms through the widening gap and grasped a nearby handhold.

“Grab my belt,” she cried. “Haul yourself aboard.”

Harkon leapt, caught hold. Jeru gasped as her arms trembled under the strain. Then the ship swiftly lifted and the airlock began to close. The girl cried in fright. The massive valve would brutally sever her arms. She looked down. The space-globe was now high above the ground – a fatal fall. Terror gripped her. Harkon saw the danger. He grasped her taut shoulders. Jeru’s hand slipped as he hauled himself up. She screamed in fear as she dangled by a single arm. Harkon grabbed the valve’s flange to ease his weight upon her. With a surge of strength he pulled his body through the rapidly narrowing gap.

Jeru’s other hand began to lose its grip. The closing valve drew nearer. Harkon saw her slipping hand, heard her screams of fear as her weakened sweat slick fingers clawed for desperate purchase. Swiftly, he grabbed her arms, jerked her within the ship. The valve clanged shut. It had missed her foot by the slenderest of margins.

Both lay upon the floor gasping from the narrowness of their escape. But there was no time for respite. The sound of sprinting feet could be heard pounding up the gangway – sensors had alerted Remin to their presence. Jeru struggled up. Remin would attempt to lock them in, eject them into space. She had to be the first to reach the inner valve.

The girl staggered to the hatch as Harkon rose. She slammed the robot’s hand against the key-plate. The valve swung out. Remin burst in. A savage look was upon his face. His wild gaze was feral. A heavy power-wrench was in his fist. He swung the makeshift weapon in a wild skull crushing blow.

Jeru ducked. The speeding wrench fanned her hair. She slammed her fist into her opponent’s groin. Remin gasped, dropped the tool and collapsed upon the floor. The man was down but wasn’t out. The engineer fought through agony. His foot lashed out and smashed against Jeru.

She cried in pain, fell. Remin, his face contorted by fury pounced upon her, clasped her throat in brutal hands. Harkon flung himself upon the man, grasped his hair and hauled him off the gasping girl. The engineer spat savage oaths, gripped his opponent’s hands to ease the ripping pain. He twisted around, jerked Harkon’s wrists with all his strength. The young man stumbled, fell upon his wily foe.

Both men wrestled desperately. Harkon head-butted his opponent. The engineer swore, tried to gouge his enemy’s eyes. Jeru joined the fray. She grabbed Remin’s hand, sank her teeth into his wrist. Remin howled. Harkon broke free, grabbed his other arm and between them both the struggling cursing engineer was violently subdued.

The young couple sat on their foe, pinning him to the deck with their combined weight and panting from the exertions of the fight. Remin knew he was beaten. It was a bitter defeat and he fully realized that the disgrace of a public trial and a lengthy prison sentence awaited him. With that his fall would be complete. An idea sprung to mind. He grimaced at the thought, but it seemed the only course of action open to him if he was to save himself from abject humiliation.

“I know when I’m beaten,” he dejectedly admitted to the couple. “Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate in exchange for a fair trial.” Then, specifically to Harkon: “We’re already under way. Let me take you to Mars. I’m sure you’re as eager to meet your mother as she is you. You can always return to your monastery later on. The planet’s location has been recorded on the ship’s star chart.”

Harkon hesitated. He didn’t trust Remin. His offer could be a cunning ploy, but even if it was he couldn’t allow Jeru to return to Earth with only the engineer as her companion. The man was hardly trustworthy and anything might happen. And then there was his mother to think of and his desire to meet her. He was sure that Urith, his foster parent would want that. Vacillation at last gave way to certainty.

“Very well,” replied Harkon. “Take us to Mars.” Then to Jeru: “If you have no objections,” he quickly added.

“None,” she replied with a smile. “I can send a message to my parents from Armara, the Martian spaceport.”

The decision having been made the couple grasped Remin’s arms and hauled him to his feet. “No tricks,” warned Harkon. “I won’t kill you, but if you cause trouble I will make you wish you were dead. Now, take us to the place where your ship is controlled from.”

Remin quailed at the fierceness of his captor’s remorseless expression. “I won’t be foolish,” he quavered. “But we must make a detour to engineering. I knew you were trying to get aboard and took off in a hurry. Some minor adjustments need to be made to the geometry of the drive field. There is no danger at the moment, but if left unattended the propulsion rings may burn out.”

Harkon glanced at Jeru. “His explanation makes sense,” she replied to his unvoiced question. “I’m familiar with the ship’s layout. I’ll lead the way.”

They walked along the gangway, Jeru in the lead followed by Remin, his arm twisted painfully behind his back by Harkon. Shortly, they came to a lift. The trio entered and Jeru pressed the button marked with their destination. The lift rose, stopped at the middle deck of the globe-ship. The doors opened and it was then that Remin dropped his submissive pretense.

From a placid and dejected state he exploded into action. Remin stomped his heel on Harkon’s toes, drove an elbow against his chin. The young man fell. Jeru spun around. She cried in fright as Remin swiftly whirled her off her feet and threw her on Harkon. The engineer leapt from the lift and sprinted to the vessel’s power core – a crystalline dodecahedron in the centre of the chamber.

In mere seconds he reached the huge mechanism. Within its heart was the blue glow of tremendous power, and upon the lower faces of the core were silvery control rods that stabilized its pent up energy. Remin, a wild look upon his face grasped a rod, jerked it out and hurled it to the deck.

Alarm bells shrilly clanged. Jeru struggled up, looked in horror at what the engineer was doing. In but moments the power core’s containment field would collapse. The tremendous energy in its heart would burst free in a vast explosion that would vaporize the ship and all within it. Remin, in a final act of suicidal vengeance, would take his foes with him.

Chapter 7: Resolution

Jeru rolled off Harkon as the alarm’s shrill clamoring increased. The power core’s glow had grown, was becoming a blazing sapphire radiance that would soon be blinding in its actinic intensity – a prelude to the titanic explosion that would swiftly follow. The young woman grabbed her companion’s arm, hauled him to his feet.

“We must stop him,” she desperately cried. “He’s trying to destroy the ship.”

The couple bolted from the lift. Remin saw them coming. He lunged for the final control rod. Harkon crashed against him. Both men went down. Jeru snatched up one of the unplugged mechanisms, reinserted it. Remin glimpsed her, cursed. He broke free of his opponent, grabbed her ankle, pulled. Jeru cried, fell. The blue glow mounted in its dangerous intensity.

Harkon flung himself upon the engineer, locked his hands about the felon’s throat. Both men fought like savage beasts. Jeru struggled to her knees; the power core’s photonic glare nearly blinding her. She could barely see the remaining control rods scatted across the deck. Time was swiftly running out. Fear jolted her upright. She fumbled for a rod, grasped it; slid it home.

The alarms shrilled like tormented souls as she stumbled for another. The blaze of the non-ionizing radiation intensified. Jeru was forced to close her eyes. Gropingly, she found the mechanism, fumblingly reinserted it. Now only one remained, but where. Desperately, she tried to recall the position of the final rod she had but briefly glimpsed.

Heat from the destabilizing power core burned her. Only seconds remained before the fury of those pent up forces exploded catastrophically. The screaming alarms made thinking almost impossible. She clapped her hands over her ears, breathed deeply to calm her bolting thoughts. A vision of the remaining rod came to her. Dropping to her knees she groped in the hoped for direction. It seemed a fear drenched age before her trembling questing fingers closed upon the mechanism.

She snatched it up with a prayer of thanks and stumbled to the power core. Its burning heat beat against her like a physical blow. Jeru forced her way through a sea of scorching pain. Agony mounted. She reached her goal, burnt her fingers as she fumbled for the aperture. Gauges redlined. The explosion was imminent. Jeru was at the limits of endurance when she found socket. With the dregs of strength she thrust the rod home.

The girl staggered away, collapsed panting upon the deck. The intensity of the blazing light began to fade. The alarms ceased their incessant clamor as gauges swung back into the safety zone. Quietness settled upon the scene. Jeru opened her eyes and looked about. The afterimage of the glare still obscured her vision. Even through closed eyelids the fierceness of the light had been evident. Her sight gradually cleared and she saw Harkon slumped across the limp form of Remin, his hands about his foeman’s throat.

Fear gripped Jeru as she moved to Harkon’s side. Was he alive or dead? Kneeling, she shook his shoulder.

“Harkon,” she tremulously cried.

The young man groaned, opened his eyes. Jeru hugged him fiercely - too overcome by emotion to speak. Instead, she wept with vast relief as he held her in his arms then slowly picked her up.

Harkon glanced at the lifeless corpse of Remin. In a way he felt sorry for the man. In him there had been the potential for greatness. This ship, the fruit of his genius, was proof of that. But his character had been tainted by a fatal flaw, and this had been the cause of his undoing.

Not wanting Jeru to be disturbed by the ugly sight of the corpse, the young man moved towards the lift as he spoke to the girl:

“Does this ship fly itself?” he asked. “If not can you operate it?”

“Remin is dead, isn’t he?” she worriedly asked as they entered the lift. Harkon nodded as he set Jeru on her feet. “If he’s entered the pass codes then I’ll have access to the ship’s systems, and all well be well,” she continued as she pushed the flight deck’s button. “But if not …” Jeru left the sentence hanging.

The lift rose, its occupants tense with worry. In moments they arrived at their destination and entered the ship’s pilot room – a cramped horseshoe shaped chamber with wall to wall displays and other instruments. Jeru swept her gaze across the helm readouts, cursed.

“He’s locked the controls. I can’t access navigation and he hasn’t set course for Earth, merely set the ship in orbit.” She turned her frightened gaze upon Harkon. “I can’t even land. We’re trapped in space. Food will eventually run out and we’ll starve. This craft is a flying coffin.”

For a moment they stared at each other in shocked silence; then the hiss of the opening lift jerked their heads around. The surviving robot stalked into the control room. Its black lenses locked upon the couple. It lunged towards them, arms extended, metallic fingers reaching to destroy.

Harkon lashed out with a powerful kick. His foot slammed into its torso. The robot staggered back, its gyros fighting to stabilize it. The young man knew he had to act quickly. He leapt at it low and fast, grabbed it below the knee joints, heaved. The machine went down. Its head smashed against the steel deck. The force of impact disrupted its synthetic brain, stunned it so to speak.

The young man grabbed the robot, lifted it above his head. The machine managed to clasp his throat. Steel fingers sank into his neck. Jeru cried in fright. Harkon, vision blurring swiftly dropped to his knees, tilting the robot. Again its head smashed against the deck, but this time with greater force. A crack rang out. Sparks flew. The machine slumped quiescent upon the floor, Harkon next to it.

Jeru rushed to his side, helped the gasping man to a sitting position.

“Are you badly hurt?” she worriedly asked.

“No,” replied Harkon as he gingerly touched his bruised throat. “Where did this thing come from?”

“Remin must have programmed it to come to his aid in the event he was incapacitated,” explained the girl. “It must have sensed something was amiss. We’ve gained a reprieve,” she continued grimly, “but it won’t change our fate.”

Harkon thought for a moment. “Maybe it does,” he said. “Remin taught this robot to repair the ship. Perhaps he also taught it fly the vessel if he couldn’t for some reason. To do so it would need to unlock the helm, and as you told me these things have electronic keys.”

“It’s possible,” replied Jeru hopefully as she moved to the helm’s key-plate. “God, I pray this works. Bring the robot here.”

Harkon hauled the machine to the helm. Jeru grasped its hand and pressed it to the key-plate. A tense second passed. A series of red lights turned green and Jeru let out the anxious breath she had been unconsciously holding.

“I’ve got access,” she exclaimed with vast relief as she sank into the pilot’s chair. “I’ll set our course for Mars.”

**********

Harkon stood beneath the glass copula of the viewing turret that overlooked the park-like expanse of Arcadia - his mother’s Martian estate. It was early evening. Above was a blaze of stars, their glimmering points reflected in the placid ornamental lake. The spray of its fountain was a ghostly fall against the backdrop of gathering night. Oriental inspired music drifted up from below – the celebration of his homecoming was in full swing. He had slipped away to escape from the intensity of it all and its strangeness.

The young man thought of his mother. Their first meeting had been reserved – he uncertain at the sight of this beautiful stranger and she suspicious. But a genetic test performed by her trusted personal physician removed all doubt that he was her long lost son. Her emotions after that had been intense to say the least.

For most of his life Harkon had enjoyed the calm solitude of monastic life with only his placid foster parent for companionship. Lady Jayne, thanks to rejuvenation treatments, appeared hardly older than her son. She was a dynamic vivacious woman and he found her presence a little overpowering. Everything was so different here – the people, the environment, and he wondered if he’d ever fully adapt. It was a worrying thought.

The monastery and all that was familiar called to him. But could he return? That would be grossly unfair to Lady Jayne. He felt torn by conflicting loyalties – the duty entrusted to him by Urith and what he felt was a duty to his mother, for at the moment his love for her was nascent - she being still largely a stranger to him, for only three days had passed since their first meeting.

The sound of footsteps coming up the tower’s stairwell made him turn. Jeru emerged into the copula and smiled at him. She looked very lovely in the starlight, dressed in a diaphanous gown of Grecian form that was all the current rage. His pulse quickened at the sight of her. He grew more certain of his feelings for the girl, and she saw the look of longing in his admiring gaze.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she said. “My parents and your mother are talking and so, like you, I’ve taken the opportunity to escape.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” he replied. “I’ve been kept from you by introductions to this Lord and that Lady with hardly a moment to exchange but a few words with you. Everything seems so strange… so unreal.”

Jeru drew near. She placed her hand upon his shoulder and he sensed her warmth and the subtle scent of her refined perfume. Here, in her, was the only thing that was truly real to him.

“You yearn for the familiarity of home,” she observed. “I… I’d understand if you decide to return. Your duties as Guardian…”

“I’ve decided my duties can be performed here on Mars as readily as on En,” he quickly said as he gently took her hand. “But I need help in adapting – someone to teach me human ways of which I am largely unfamiliar. I want you to be my guide on this journey.”

“I was hoping you’d say something like that,” she earnestly replied. “Where would you like to begin?”

Harkon remembered the spontaneity of their first kiss which Jeru had initiated. But now he suspected he must take the lead. He hesitated for a moment as he gathered his courage for the situation and emotions he was experiencing were still very new to him: “With love… I fear I’m rather ignorant.”

“I will be delighted to teach you,” she warmly replied. “It begins with desire and is sealed with a kiss.” She smilingly explained.

They tenderly embraced, and the stars looked down upon them with quiet benevolence.

THE END