The Age of Rath
Chapter 17
XVII
Michael awoke refreshed, feeling ready to face whatever the future might hold for him. He found Maria in the living room of their home in the Antarian countryside rearranging some small decorative items on a shelf, and he put his arms around her, pulling her close. "I've been thinking, honey… If you don't think I should do this… if you want me to stay here… well, I think I can live with that. I've got you to help me get over any doubts I might have. Maybe I still feel like there's something more to find out, but I know you can help me cope with that, because the most important things in my life are the things I've already got… you… our kids… and our friends here on Antar."
Maria smiled from ear to ear. "Do you mean, that, Michael? You'd really stay here… for me? Michael, I… I don't know if I can take that away from you."
"You wouldn't be taking, Maria. All you've ever done is give to my life… You've given it meaning… you've given it happiness… you've given it purpose… What more can I ask you to give?"
Maria smiled again and kissed Michael. As their lips touched, she saw stars in a beautiful blue sky. And she could clearly feel the warmth and love that were coming from Michael's heart. Then, suddenly, something struck her with the force of a cannon ball, knocking her violently away from Michael… something very powerful… and dark.
"Maria! What happened," Michael exclaimed, rushing to her side.
"I don't know, Michael! I started to see stars and things like I always do when we kiss, and then it all changed into… something different… something dark and angry. Then I felt like I was being repelled. It felt like I was hit by a lightning bolt."
"I didn't mean to, Maria! I don't know what happened! I swear it!"
"I know, Michael. It wasn't you. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't you."
"Are you sure you're alright, Maria?"
"Yeah… I'm fine, just a little shaken. I'll be okay, really."
"I'm… I'm so sorry, Maria!"
"Michael, you don't owe me any apology. It wasn't you. Stop blaming yourself! It was just a freak thing."
"Yeah, me! I'm the freak!"
"No, Michael! You're not! You're a loving, caring, warm, wonderful man, and any girl would be lucky to have you!"
Michael shook his head. "No, Maria! Hank was right! I'm a freak!"
"Michael, I'll show you that you're worrying about nothing. Kiss me again." As Maria's lips started to touch Michael's, Michael's eyes suddenly sparked with an angry fierceness that Maria had never seen before, and he shouted at her in a clearly threatening tone…
"Ja-Stak a'il dak Krat-ax-an!"
Maria backed away quickly. She wasn't totally sure that she had heard what she had just heard, but her Antarian was fairly fluent after having lived on Antar for almost ten years and raising children there, and it sounded like Michael had just used an older Antarian vulgarity that translated, roughly, as, "Get out of my face, bitch!"
Maria stared at Michael with shock and great fear in her eyes… for him more than for herself.
"What… what was that, Michael?"
Michael's eyes returned to their normal shade, and his face softened.
"What did I say, Maria? What's happening to me?"
"I don't know, Michael. It's almost like… there are two of you in there… and the other one doesn't like me at all!"
Michael looked momentarily confused… almost lost. Then he yelled for the portal. A bright light appeared, and before Maria could stop him, Michael leapt into it headlong, shouting his destination as he dove through the opening.
The sphere of the portal was not supposed to be a carnival ride. It was a doorway from one place to another… a portal. One passed instantly through it, they didn't "ride" to their destination. But this trip was anything but normal. As Michael leapt into the portal, he got the sensation that he was sliding down a chute… a chute with a lot of bumps and a few loop the loops. It probably lasted no more than ten seconds, if even that, but by the time Michael was ejected on the other end, he felt like he had been in a tornado, a minor detail that didn't slow him down for more than the few seconds it took him to get his bearings. Hearing someone coming, he ducked behind a large tree.
"But Kivar, if Rath catches you with me, you won't live to become the king."
It was Vilandra… and Kivar was with her.
"Then let's make sure that Rath doesn't catch us," Kivar replied with a smile. "Come on, Vilandra, just a small kiss… for old times sake."
"Kivar, you're a scoundrel," Vilandra said teasingly, but she turned away, denying him his kiss. "I am promised to Rath, you know. I don't want him thinking I've been unfaithful."
"Are you going to intercede for me, Vilandra? Are you going to help me get into the city? It's the only way, you know."
"I know, Var… I know. I really don't know what my brother's problem is. He knows you only want to discuss your rightful place in the royal family… so that your rights will be recognized in the line of succession… but alas! My brother is too dense to understand. He has forbidden your entry into the city, and Rath has placed guards everywhere to assure that his mandate is obeyed."
"But I only want to get in so I can speak with him, Vilandra… explain to him that I mean him no harm. He has no heir yet, and I am descended from the royal family, too. It is natural…"
"I know, Var. But my brother, Zan, is stubborn. A team of yeggs could not dissuade him once he has made up his mind. He believes that your intentions are to depose the royal family."
"Vilandra! How is that possible? I myself am of the royal family!"
Vilandra giggled. "Well, just barely maybe. The royal family doesn't usually acknowledge your kind, Var."
"So my mother was a shebble girl."
"Who was all of thirteen," Vilandra reminded him. "It may not sound fair, my dear, Kivar, but Zan's great uncle never confessed to being… uh… your father, you know."
"Well, he was. Everyone knows it."
"True. Everyone does. It's not really a secret. But acceptance is everything, Var. And my brother will not accept you. He will not let you into the city."
"I could change his mind if I only had a chance, Vilandra. Help me sneak into the city with my… entourage… just a few servants who carry my things."
"Kivar, you're hopeless. I'll help you. I know a way to get you in. My brother will be furious, but when he sees that you only want to reason with him, maybe he'll forgive me. I doubt it, but I don't care. He's stubborn as an ancient yegg!"
As Vilandra and Kivar moved on, Michael emerged from behind the tree to look around. In some strange way, everything looked vaguely familiar. He knew that the palace was to the left, about four tarins away. How he knew this, he wasn't sure, but he was certain of it. Michael turned left and walked toward the palace.
About two tarins from the palace, Michael came across four of the guards Vilandra had mentioned in her conversation with Kivar.
"Halt! Identify yourself!"
Michael looked up and turned to face the one who had spoken. He was holding some kind of weapon up as a barrier. Seeing Michael's face now in the light, the guard appeared to pale, and the three who were with him backed away, leaving him out in front alone.
"I'm sorry, Rath. I didn't see your face in the shadows! Forgive me!"
Michael waved at the guard dismissively and continued walking in the direction of the palace.
Once he had reached the palace, he sat down on a bench in the gardens to think about what it was he was going to actually do there. As he pondered this question, he was jolted from his thoughts by approaching footsteps. Michael looked around quickly for a place to hide but saw none readily available, so he decided that he would merely let them think that he was Rath… as he had done with the guards. Michael stood up straight and authoritatively faced the arriving individual.
It was Rath.
Rath stopped to assess the person in front of him. He walked slowly around Michael, looking at him from all sides. Michael tried to imitate Rath's motions, walking around Rath at the same time and observing him. He figured that if anyone was watching them, it was best if they could not be sure which one was the real Rath.
"Who are you," Rath asked. It did not have the sound of a question that was to be ignored. Something in Rath's tone demanded one's total attention and an immediate answer. Even Michael felt uneasy in his presence.
"I'm Rath," Michael replied.
Rath responded with a feigned left hook that took Michael by surprise, followed by a definitely unfeigned lightning fast right jab straight to the jaw. Michael was instantly knocked off his feet. Rath placed his arc gun against Michael's head. "Now let's try that again. Who are you?"
Michael rubbed his jaw, moving it back and forth to see if he might need to relocate it. As he moved it, he heard a click. He tried to open his mouth and was surprised to find that he could. Apparently, the jaw had fallen back into place.
"My name is Rath."
Rath raised his arc gun again, and Michael raised his hand in an effort to fend it off, but Rath spoke instead of firing.
"You look like me. I want to know how that's possible. Too many things are turning sour here lately."
"Sour?" Michael looked at Rath questioningly. "What do you mean?"
"I'll ask all the questions, Rath said. "Are you a shape-shifter?"
Michael shook his head.
"No… I didn't think so," Rath said slowly. "My form cannot be reproduced by shape-shifting… just as Zan's cannot. Yet somehow, you look like me. How is that possible?"
Michael seemed surprised by this revelation. He made a mental note to ask about it later… when he might have more chance of receiving an answer that wouldn't dislocate his jaw. He sighed and looked Rath in the eyes. "Have you ever heard of the river of time, Rath?"
Rath shook his head.
"Well, it exists. Let's just say it seems to be the inner workings of the universe… It's hard to explain, but I think something has happened to upset its natural balance. This time that you live in and the time I live in seem to be moving together somehow… like two ponds that have overflowed their banks, and their waters are mixing… becoming one."
Rath was silent for several moments, apparently thinking about what Michael had just said.
"Yes, there are a lot of unexplained things happening recently… too many. When I went to hold my lady, Vilandra, earlier, I saw the face of another woman… I thought it was a shape-shifter who tried to take Vilandra's body to get close to me! I gave the shape-shifter the welcome that it deserved… It abandoned my lady's body, and my lady returned, but the Krat-ax-an tried to return again, and I drove it away finally with a threat."
"A shape-shifter cannot appear in the body of another," Michael said. "A shape-shifter can only make itself look like another person."
"There are those who can do both," Rath said with assurance. "Now, are you going to tell me who you really are," he asked Michael again.
"I am you, Rath, from a future time."
"I exist here! now! Not in a future time," Rath exclaimed with irritation.
"But when you die here, Rath, your DNA is taken to another planet and combined with DNA from other beings. The result is… me."
"Why," Rath asked simply. "Why would anyone do that?"
"To assure the continuation of the royal family."
Rath looked suspicious… "But if I were dead… Zan could do that without me… unless… Zan dies, too, before his time."
Michael looked down at the ground. "I think I've said too much already. I cannot tell you any more, Rath."
"You don't have to. You've already told me what I need to know, even if you do not know it. I've heard reports that Vilandra has been seeing Kivar secretly. I didn't believe them. But now… I think that I might be wise to have her followed." "And as for you…" Rath added, "…if I find out you have lied to me, I will kill you… even if you are me."
Michael swallowed hard. He knew that Rath was not speaking rashly. He absolutely would follow through on his threat.
Rath started to leave but then seemed to change his mind. He turned to Michael and motioned… "Come with me." Michael hesitated then decided that wherever Rath was taking him, it would at least keep them together for the moment, and that would give him more time to figure out what he was going to do now that he was here.
As they walked back towards the palace together, Rath and Michael were surrounded by a dozen smiling young women who seemed to come out of nowhere. Michael started to smile back in a friendly way as they walked by, but he noticed that Rath was watching them intensely. And he was not smiling. Suddenly, the girls seemed to shimmer. Immediately, where the girls had been standing, a dozen well-armed soldiers appeared. Rath stood very still. He showed no emotion whatsoever except for a certain intenseness. It struck Michael that Rath looked rather like a hawk or an eagle dispassionately sizing up its prey. But Rath was only one… well, two, if Michael helped him. Michael looked at the soldiers again. Okay, it was two against twelve. He had Rath's face. The chance that they would spare him was basically zero. Besides, in some strange way, he felt a kinship with Rath.
Two of the shape-shifting soldiers, one from each side, attacked. Then, suddenly, all of the others rushed into the fray at once. Rath easily sent the first two sailing through the air, their necks broken. It appeared that Michael might not need to help him after all. Then the shape-shifters shifted again, turning themselves into creatures with which Michael had had more than just a passing experience… Dragons of Drago. These were not real Dragons, however. Of this, Michael was quite certain. Real Dragons religiously avoid all weapons. They believe that any Dragon that cannot bring down its prey or enemy with its own formidable teeth and claws is better off taken out of the gene pool. These were not Dragons. However, as long as they were taking the shape of Dragons, perhaps they might have the same weaknesses… the same Achilles heel.
One of the Dragons managed to rake Rath with a large, claw-like spur, opening a two-foot-long gash in his left arm. If Rath felt it, it was hard to tell. He showed no awareness of the pain. But clearly, his left side had become more vulnerable to attack now that his arm was injured. Rath had already managed to kill one of the fake Dragons and had wounded three others, but he was tiring under the Dragons' formidable assault, and all the pounding he had given their heads seemed to have had no effect.
Michael went on the attack. He rushed the nearest Dragon, which had its back to him, as it went after Rath. Michael jumped, landing on the Dragon's tail, and the Dragon roared and swung around, raising its tail suddenly and tossing Michael over its head. Michael grabbed onto the head and hung on, holding the snout closed with both arms around it. The Dragon began to show signs of suffocation. After a few moments, it flipped over and fell at Rath's feet.
"Nice! They do have Dragon physiology," Michael said to Rath. "They have to be able to open their mouths to breathe. Also, you can hit 'em in the upper snout, right over the third tooth. It's their nerve center. Their brain is attached to it. You could pound them in the head all day and not hurt them. There's nothing in there. Go for the snout."
Within minutes, Rath and Michael had incapacitated or killed all but three of the shape-shifters. The remaining three, seeing that the Dragon thing was no longer working for them, shape-shifted once again, this time turning into large birds, but instead of attacking, they flew away. Rath flung a pointed, light-weight, metal spear called a "bartaka" at the fleeing shape-shifters with his still-functional right arm and managed to bring one of the birds down. But the other two were, by now, gone.
"Go on! Fly back to Kivar and tell him of your defeat," Rath yelled after the birds.
Looking around at the dead and injured shape-shifters, Michael thought about the real Dragons. The real Dragons were his friends… ever since he and Max saved the Dragon children from the slavers on Gadyslar… and little Kiraugo, a Dragon child, totally idolized Michael. But somehow, Michael didn't feel any remorse over having killed these. They weren't Dragons. In fact, Michael actually felt, in a way, offended that these shape-shifters had chosen to use the forms of the Dragons for their traitorous plot.
Rath slapped Michael on the back and smiled. Michael hadn't seen Rath smile before, and he found himself oddly shocked to see that he actually could.
"Turn around, my friend," Rath said. "We have company."
Michael turned around to see that Zan had come out to meet them. He had been watching the final part of the battle.
"Rath," Zan said, looking back and forth at the two for a moment, "how did you manage to do this? Even I did not know that you could replicate yourself this way."
"I can't take credit for any new power, Zan," Rath replied. "My friend here is… a time traveler. He goes by the name…"
"Michael," Michael said for him. "I go by Michael."
"Well, Michael," Zan said, "You must certainly be descended from Rath. You are an exact copy!"
Michael nodded. "I am a descendent."
"Rath, you and your "descendent" must come in. Ava is having a special feast prepared for the two of you as we speak." Zan looked at Rath's left arm. The two-foot-long gash made by the Dragon's spur went all the way to the bone, but Rath had not even mentioned it. Zan placed his hands over Rath's arm and concentrated. As they watched, the arm began to heal. Then, slowly, the wound disappeared.
"Come!" Zan said. "You must be famished after that fight! Let's go in."
Michael had to admit that he actually had worked up an appetite. He nodded then grimaced slightly, as he felt the pain in his jaw. Zan noticed.
"Did something happen to your jaw, Michael?"
Rath smiled.
"Ah! I understand! You met Rath!" Zan started to place his hand next to Michael's jaw.
"It doesn't hurt," Michael said cavalierly and more than a little untruthfully. "It'll be okay."
Zan smiled. "Ava will be offended if you do not enjoy the feast she has prepared for you… You would be wise to accept my help."
Michael nodded. Zan held his hand next to Michael's jaw for a moment then removed it. Michael moved his mouth around and smiled. "Yeah! Yeah, that is better."
Zan and Rath both grinned, and the three men went into the palace, as the palace guards carted off the dead and injured shape-shifters.
tbc
Coming Next: "Jibo-E'yya and A'yako"