By Jane Carver
Vangee’s hand slipped around his to clasp his fingers tightly. When the ship settled into the emptiness of space, she left his side.
The image of a small planet imposed between the fleet and a dying sun would stay in his memory until the day he died. A fiery halo outlined the pastel world quickly receding behind them.
He looked where Jacon pointed. The Fenix led the armada. “How many ships in all?”
“A few dozen sailed today, but we will join hundreds spread out behind us.” Jacon leaned far over the rail as he gestured outward. His actions twisted Gambrel’s guts. He laid a hand on the man’s back in case he tumbled into space.
“Fifty ships’ captains answer to one leader. Those twenty leaders are accountable to Captain Merlo, the senior commander in the fleet. Five hundred ships. As a courtesy, Merlo consults Vangee when necessary, but he actually leads us.”
Jacon welcomed his wife into his embrace. One finger wiped a tear off her cheek. He gathered his daughter close then bid Gambrel farewell.
Something Jacon said stayed with him, tumbling over and over in his mind. Captain Merlo consulted Vangee periodically? For what? Why? Such an extraordinary woman. He feared her too important to associate with his kind.
For the next sixty-brace, he leaned against the rail, watching other ships as they floated on unseen astral tides. His imagination filled in the lapping waves at each bow rolling back in graceful folds to fall behind in great billowing curls.
If the murderer left the fleet, he would follow. But until then he watched in fascination those giant hulls plowing the invisible spatial tides with dignity and determination.
Tiring of the sight at last, his sigh surely rattled the sides of the atmospheric bubble. He straightened and rolled his shoulders. Children played in a corner near the cabin door. Small groups of men chatted here and there. A group of women sat on casks mid-ship. Vangee seemed to have disappeared.
He finally spotted her standing near the ship’s bow. Her beauty stole the abundant air from his lungs. While others watched their old life fade from view, she faced forward, boldly seeking the new.
For the first time, she stood exposed for his examination. Her gray cape flared behind her; her hood lay on her shoulders. One hand held a rope to steady her. Both feet spread wide for balance. A contrast of pale and dark, the winds whipped her hair until she reached up and drew around her neck. Skin so fair it rivaled death. Hair the color of brilliant lavender, streaked by hues of rich purple. Her profile revealed clean chiseled features, large eyes, a sweetly curved mouth, and a straight nose above a delicately rounded chin. His idea of a perfect woman.
Gambrel’s heart fell. Vangee’s importance to this expedition lay in more than her being the daughter of an important man. She embodied everything he dreamed of if he ever took a woman to his heart.
When he was young, Xantis filled him with desire. But Vangee… How to describe his feelings? As fascinating as the sight of the fleet might be, the vision of her facing the future alone ate at his soul. She enthralled him.
Captain Merlo descended from the upper deck about that time and stopped to speak. Gambrel tore his gaze away and listened politely, his thumbs tucked into his belt, his twin blasters exposed.
“Sarjean, we haven’t had a chance to talk since you joined us.” The captain nodded to the weapons at his side. “We do not allow armaments aboard ship. Too easy for someone in the heat of temper to kill or maim another. I’ll ask you to surrender them.”
Gambrel put on a straight face, complete with cold eyes. No longer the pleasant looking fellow. “I can control myself. No need to disarm me.”
“The rules for this voyage stated no weapons unless the vessel is under attack. If that happens, I welcome you at my side, blasters at full power.” A ghost of a smile told him the captain knew giving up his protection would be hard. Though he felt naked without the blasters and knives, he nodded once, hard.
When the issue lay settled between them, Gambrel wanted a few answers in return for his concession. “Captain Merlo, tell me about Vangee Windrum. She stays hidden behind her cape and hood, yet she is a beautiful woman. Jacon told me you lead this journey but consult her as a matter of courtesy. Why?”
“Her importance is tied to her father. Darkin Windrum led the Ancadian High Council for years. His wisdom helped our people prosper. He conceived the idea of looking for a new planet to colonize when our wise men determined our sun was dying. The Council sent out scouts to seek what we needed. This ship and at least a dozen others in this fleet belonged to him, Captain Windrum when I first knew him. His ships sailed the tides and brought fortune to Ancade. I served under him. Learned from him. When he gave up his captain’s position, I received the post with his blessings. His daughter now owns those ships. She is a wealthy woman.”
“That explains why you consult with her. She feels a great responsibility for this voyage’s success, I’m sure.” He glanced at her again. She moved no more than the ship’s figurehead stretched out before her.
Captain Merlo nodded.
“Why does she stay so closed off?” More than her wealth bothered Gambrel.
“Vangee is a magnificent woman. Many men, both human and otherwise, have courted her. None succeeded in attracting her. Boratax, one of our scouts, seems to be the center of her attention right now.”
“Right now?” He remembered her asking Jacon about the man the night he eavesdropped.
The captain rubbed the ridge of his long nose with one finger as he glanced over his shoulder. “Her father and I thought Boratax not as interested in her as she in him, hard as that is to believe. Boratax wants to explore space, as far as he can. He dreams of finding a planet no one has ever seen. He found the one we sail to, but it’s not an undiscovered one.” Merlo moved to the rail next to Gambrel, leaned his back against it and folded his arms over his thin chest.
“As for Vangee, she holds herself apart because of what she is. Like other women, I think she’d like to mate and share young ones with a partner. While men desire her for her beauty and wealth, most would not want a permanent attachment.”
Gambrel sputtered. Indignation colored his words. “You mean, men would use her for sex but not marry?” From the captain’s puzzled expression, something he said didn’t make sense.
“What is marry?”
“Marry. To mate. To be permanently attached to a woman. Not share.” The more he explained, the more he growled. To use her for gratification riled, tore at his guts. “Why?” His disquiet moved him from the captain’s side to pace back and forth.
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?” He returned to the captain’s side.
“Have you never noticed how she effects you?”
An eloquent roll of the eyes answered the question, and the older man tried to hide his smile. “That’s not what I meant. When a person is disturbed, unhappy, out of sorts, she calms, soothes. Have you not experienced this?
A nod.
“The same holds true for a gathering. Vangee senses the emotions and counters or controls them. She can project any emotion she desires or is needed.”
A dawning sense of horror burned Gambrel’s heart. Why hadn’t he sensed it? Her soothing ways when he grew anxious. The way these people left their homes so calmly without wailing and loud demonstrations of grief. She calmed their hearts as surely as she did his.
He hung his head in defeat. The more he learned, the more he knew her beyond anything he could have. Desire from afar, yes. Hold dear in secret, but never partner with, never mate with. The idea of using her to satisfy his craving for sex sickened him.
“Do you know what she is,” Merlo asked quietly, his voice etched deep with sympathy.
Another nod. Gambrel blinked away the tears that watered his eyes. His life as an enforcer hardened him to all feelings. In less than a day, Vangee softened his heart and left him open to pain.
“She’s a Radiant.” The whisper rivaled the soft sigh of the sails as they swayed to and fro.
Merlo squeezed Gambrel’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, my friend. I thought you knew.” Reluctant to add to the bigger man’s misery, the captain added, “I have to ask you for your weapons now.”
Gambrel reached across his body, grabbed the hilt of each blaster, and pulled them smoothly from their holsters. Swinging each on the palms of his thick hands, he presented the pair butt first to Merlo who accepted them without comment. The weapons tucked into his pockets, the captain left.
Over the years, Gambrel forced all emotions deep inside. In his line of business, he couldn’t afford any. After Lindan’s death, he didn’t want them. Like an automaton, he methodically followed each man who participated in her murder and eliminated him.
Not until the night he met Vangee did he think of a woman in terms of something besides relief for aching balls and a swollen cock. She was pristine compared to those sullied beings he bedded for short periods of sex.
Once again, he faced the rail, seeing nothing beyond the images in his soul. To let hope—even the thought of hope—rise again hurt because the emotion died such a brutal death.
He must remember to thank her for getting him a berth on this ship. Then he must leave her alone. Her position in this fleet as an owner and a person of wealth put her out of his league. Her being a Radiant not only closed the door on a possible relationship; it positively slammed and locked that door.
A Radiant. Vangee Windrum…a Radiant. He had heard of such beings. Men insinuated they were myths, their powers used to thwart evil deeds.
He leaned on the rail and clasped his hands as he closed his eyes and tried to remember everything he ever heard about Radiants. No one knew how or why a being was born with these gifts. Radiants came from all races, but few in number. Seen as both good and bad, beings like Vangee sensed the emotions around them and acted appropriately, calming, encouraging, bracing the spirit.
One Radiant used his talent for profit, feeding passion to crowds, inciting riots. During the chaos, his followers robbed merchants. Rumors abounded, implying Radiants were immortal. But those same rumors spread the word of the lawbreaker Radiant’s death when the justice seekers discovered what he had done.
Three hundred years to live lay before Gambrel. But Vangee might live longer. What would that be like? To love someone then see your mate die?
He couldn’t ask her about these things. In fact, he shouldn’t talk to her at all beyond proper manners. He chided himself for coming. Crowds troubled him. Solitude satisfied him better than chatter and backslapping. Here he was, confined for months with strangers, allowed no protection, and given nothing to do but think…and wish…and dream.
Viciously he ran both hands over his head, loosening the string that held his long hair tied at his nape. He slammed his forehead against the railing, the pain blinding him for a second. The wind driving the ship whipped his hair as wildly as it did hers. Limitless black space lay without interruption before him. His spirit rebelled against such serenity. Life once again held out a prize then snatched it away.
He needed to yell his frustration aloud. That would not do. Some might misunderstand his rage.
Control. Needed to take back charge of his life. Needed to regain his balance. Needed to harness his emotions. Become the man life had made him. An enforcer. Heartless. Without mercy. A killing machine.
Better to remember who he was and allow no one close.
A Story Begins Now 