Rebirth free porn video

REBIRTH by LJ "You're kidding," Samuel Summers smirked as he stared at his commander. "No, I'm not," Marcus Stone, commander of the first Earth-Gov contact mission to the stars shook his head. "We are expected to deliver a sacrifice to their shaman for a fertility rite if we want to colonize this sector in peace. Otherwise, they won't even let us land on any planet in the system. "However," Marcus added quickly. "I have been assured that the sacrifice is symbolic, and there will not actual harm done to our representative, who will become, according to the head man I spoke with, the living manifestation of peace and fertility on our colony so long as we remain. "That being said, I want you to be the sacrifice," Marcus told him flatly. Samuel Summers was a captain. A leader of men, and a good man in a fight. He had never seen himself as a fertility sacrifice, symbolic, or otherwise. He still didn't. "Isn't the usual sacrifice a female," he asked, glancing at their xenon-biologist, Lt. Mara Parks, who was attending the staff meeting in the captain's conference room as they reported on what was known of the culture and life forms inhabiting the Talosian System. "The fact is, captain," Commander Stone smiled thinly. "These beings are indifferent to gender," he told him with a curt shake of his bald head. As mission commander, he had final say on all decisions involving the contact mission that would pave the way for the colonists en route to this system. Samuel was just a ship captain, and if necessary, the battalion leader in any fight they might encounter. It had been his experience that earned him this post, but they were still primarily a colony ship, and this mission was critical enough that its mandate required alliance, and new homesteads rather than the usual slash-and- burn approach that might spell doom for their dying home world's billions if they failed. After all, that approach had alienated them in the Andoran Systems real quick when the surprisingly advanced sentient r Talos, their scout ships had reported, had nine habitable planets within their tolerance levels. Only three had actual sentient life forms, and appreciable civilizations occupying them. The two-star system, however, was guarded by the older, and highly ritualistic culture on the planet designated Talos IV. The irony was, why highly evolved, the species still practiced primitive religious rites despite its impressive tech levels. The seven foot, gold-skinned humanoids with golden hair, and green eyes were adamant in their demands. To join the Talosian Sector, the Terrans had to abide by their rites and rituals to claim any of the planets as their colonies. That meant someone from the colony had to volunteer as the representative sacrifice for their future good will between the gods, and the current masters of the sector. Or so they were told. "Beside, captain," Marcus went on with a grim scowl. "I'd rather have a man that can take care of himself if things do get....bad." Marcus knew his senior officer wasn't afraid. Sam wasn't the kind to cower from anything. Quite the opposite. He had at first resisted this command, feeling he was better used serving Earth-Gov on the still unstable Andoran front. It wasn't fear that upset the captain. Rather, it was embarrassment. He had spotted the faint blush on the man's face, and knew him well enough to interpret his feelings. After all, how many star captains were asked to serve as fertility symbols for their people? "So....what do I have to do," Samuel finally asked solemnly, knowing the commander was right. He couldn't allow any of his people, mostly colonists anyway, to go in his place. Not if there was even the slightest risk to their life. It was his job to risk his life to ensure they succeeded. No one else's. "Apparently, that is some kind of secret between the Talosions, and their....ah, gods. Only their shamans know the rites, and it is apparently critical that secrecy be maintained. Apparently, the sacrifice has to willingly accept whatever lies ahead on faith of some kind. "I got the feeling it was part of some divine credo they follow," he smirked. Samuel nodded. He wasn't an overly religious man himself. And he knew the commander from past service. Marcus was purely agnostic. God, or whatever, was going to have to step off a cloud and tap him on the shoulder before he was going to accept any of that superstition some Terrans still followed. And he better have a good intro when he came, or Marcus might just have him detained as an illegal sentient. "Okay, so what did they spill about what I do?" "Only that before you arrive, you must accept that whatever you learn, you can never impart. Something about the sacred silence of the gods, or some such." Samuel tired not to blush as his imagination tormented him again. "Somehow, I'm guessing that's a promise I won't have to worry about breaking," he drawled, trying to sound untouched by his potential humiliation. "Now, now, captain," Mara chided him. "Surely you won't mind a discrete interview afterward to advance the cause of interspecies relations? Not to mention advancing our understanding of primitive religious practices in the galaxy," the redhead grinned. "I'm not your next thesis, lieutenant," he scowled at the pert redhead with a body built more like a pleasure girl than the walking bio- computer she tended to resemble in his mind. "This is still an Earth-Gov mission, and we have to remember our mandate here." She didn't react to the criticism. Her academic qualifications were the only reason the shapely scientist had even been accepted into the science division of Earth-Gov, for she was qualified in virtually every science known to man, though she specialized in xenon-biology. "Exactly," she nodded at him. "We have to take every aspect of this matter seriously," she told the entire staff attending the briefing. "Because the Talosians do. And this may be a test in and of itself to discern our honor, as the call it. "Honor, I understand, seems to play a very vital role in their culture. If we want to stay here, let alone get along with our hosts, we're going to have to respect that, and gain a better understanding of just what it entails. "And that, captain," she told him sternly, "Is what I hope you learn while you are down there doing whatever. Because what you learn," she added with a faint smile that relaxed that lecturer's mask she usually wore only slightly, "I can teach." "She is right," the hitherto silent Ben Thomas agreed. The only civilian allowed to attend the staff meeting, the young translator was invaluable to their efforts as he was one of the few that even bothered to study Talosian language. "Everything we know of the Talosians to day indicates their technological development is still light years ahead of our own. "Still, their agricultural and stock yields are rich beyond belief as well. It is as if they have managed to achieve a bio-tech harmony that has long eluded us on Old Earth. They have not only mastered their environment, but themselves. "Considering Terra's condition, we would do well to at least attempt to emulate their example. Frankly, I think if a vow of silence concerning their religious practices, amusing as it might strike some of us, I believe the captain would do well to respect that." "After all," he concluded with a grim expression. "While they have not yet shown any signs of animosity, they could be...quite distressed over our unwitting mockery of their culture. And as we have already seen, there are races that have the ability to quite literally wipe us out of the cosmos if they wished. Do we really want to press our luck with yet another futile war?" "No," Marcus spoke for them all as the assembled officers lost their smiles at Samuel's earlier discomfort. "Not when we have twenty-three billion people still looking for new homes. This sector could be the very genesis for a new life for our species. Let's not blow the chance from the start. "So, Captain Summers," he nodded at his friend and ally. "You're to take a shuttle down to the surface of Talos IV, alone, and unarmed, at 0500 solar standard. We shall proceed to Talos VI where we will set down, and you will, I've been told, join us once you've completed the required ceremonies. "If, within a set period, we proved ourselves earnest to the Talosians, I've been told the Talosian have promised we may tae possession of two more of the planets in this system for our colonies. This is our best hope, people, so let's not blow it," he told Samuel curtly. "We all know how rare habitable planets are, after all.' Samuel said nothing this time. He only nodded. "I can only offer you my best wishes, Sam," Marcus finally told him as all eyes fell on the now somewhat anxious officer. "I will do my best, sir. You know you can count on me. It's just....it's still a bit of a shock. I mean, fertility rites in a civilization this advanced? It's a bit like still believing in gods that created the first men," he said, his tone sardonic. "Let's lave our culture out of this, captain," Ben, a known theist suggested. "At this point, we don't want to unwittingly offend our hosts." "That's easy for you to say," Samuel grunted with an expression of disgust. "You don't have to be the living manifestation of our colony's fertility. Whatever that is supposed to be," she sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned, and left the room when he caught the commander's signal that the meeting was over. Only after Samuel was gone did Marcus turn to his medical officer. "I want a psionic beacon planted on him before he leaves," he told Dr. Beth Sawyer only after most of the others were gone, too, leaving no other witnesses to his cautionary act. Beth, a tall, almost mannish looking woman only nodded. Some thought she had no sense of humor, but she was the best doctor in the fleet, and Marcus had to admit, that while he had never seen her smile, he had also never her seen her break in a crisis. She was cooler than some hardened troops when under fire, and had earned several commendations for pulling injured men out of danger during some pretty intense firefights. "Are you certain he has to go alone," Lt. Peter Kite, the security chief asked as he ambushed Marcus outside the conference room. "I mean, rites and rituals aside, our regs don't allow command staff to leave the ship unescorted. "Especially not in potentially hazardous situations," he added grimly. "I'm afraid this isn't negotiable, Pete," he told the burly man. "But I trust Lo-Ral. After all, if they had wanted to kill us, they'd hardly start out by taking just one person, sending the rest of us to the planet we had already decided was one of the best in the system for our needs." "Old suspicions die hard," Beth remarked as she came up behind him, giving him a stern stare, the last to leave the room. Pete merely scowled his displeasure, not have any other words to use in protest just then. "This isn't Terra, and the Talosian are not like us," Marcus pointed out. "Frankly, I've yet to seen anything that indicates they even know what duplicity or treachery are. At least, not by our standards. "These people seem open, honest, and rather....curt. But they do not seem dishonest," Marcus assured his security chief. Beth gave him a shadowed look, but said nothing else. "I suppose I'll have to accept your assessment for now," Pete grumbled. "We've got less than two hours before the captain disembarks, so perhaps we should be getting ready for planet fall? We've spent five years looking for this place," he went on in his discontented tone, "So we might as well be prepared to actually set down." "I'll transmit the message beacon to Terra," the commander told him. "You tell William to set course, and prepare to broadcast the com-pulse once we're underway again," he told Pete, naming William Gates, the ship's nav/comm officer who was pulling double duty since the communications officer was killed in a bad asteroid storm months ago. "You'd better transmit the full conditional treaty, or they might not know what to expect," Pete suggested wryly. "I know what to put in the report, Pete. I'll tell them we'll be contacting them in three months, the end of our...probation, and as we expect no problems, they should begin preparing those colonists who wish to depart, since it'll be another two months before they even get the next message once we're sure we are secure," he reminded the man. "I understand, sir," Pete sighed. "Good," Marcus nodded. "Then let's get to work," he told Beth as he headed down the corridor to the ship's bridge. "And someone have Thomas join me in command. I want to have a comprehensive vocab for the translators prepared, too. It was touch and go for a while there even with his expertise." "I'll have him bring his lexicons up," Beth told him as she took the opposite direction toward medical and science stations. "He might know something more by now that can assist us in communicating." Marcus nodded, and continued on his way to check the command bridge in preparation for landing on their new home. He only hoped nothing went wrong. They couldn't afford to blow this one. Not like his predecessor had done with the Andorans. That had been a major screw-up that was still biting them in the....posterior. Samuel felt like an idiot. He was clad in only an animal-skin loincloth, with a weird little necklace around his throat, along with a set of matching circlets around his wrists and ankles that shimmered like silvery rainbows. Moreover, he had been painted brown with some kind of pungent pigment, from head to toe, just like the shaman who was clad in a long, animal-hide cloak that shrouded his lean, dark body. He followed the shaman into a low, handmade shelter of mud and thatch only after hours of banging on some kind of crude drum, and giving himself a splitting headache. The small structure looked oddly out of place among the more modern chrome-colored, dome-shaped buildings of seamless construction. His more immediate concern, however, was the thick, bitter smoke that rose from the only entrance into the mud hut they were about to enter. The golden-skinned escorts, all male, all in soft, tan jumpsuits of simmering synthetic material, stopped just outside the small hut. They then turned, and bowed to him as the shaman preceded him into the hut they had to enter by crawling on hands and knees just to get inside. He gave faint nods to the two escorts, unsure of what else to do, and then forced himself to crawl into that smoky hut after taking a deep breath. As he expected, inside was worse. Samuel stifled his groan as he gasped for air, rubbing his irritated eyes as he settled into the place the shaman indicated on one side of the fire pit filling most of the cramped interior of the hut. He stared at the shaman's gold-flecked green eyes, and wondered what was supposed to happen now as he mimicked the taller humanoid's cross-legged posture before the flames. The shaman threw back his hood, baring his painted face streaked with strange, white markings, and letting his long, thick hair fall down past his shoulders. Oops, her shoulders, Samuel realized as he noticed for the first time that the tall alien had a heavy swell of feminine breasts beneath the robe now slipping down her back to pool at the Talosian's waist. She smiled faintly at his astonished expression, and then produced a handful of colored sand she cast into the flames that birthed that horrid, acrid smoke that was threatening to suffocate him. The fire flared up, filling his vision, and he gasped at the strange lack of heat when he instinctively drew back from the colored flames that rose before him. Then, the shaman began to chant. The small chamber filled with an overpowering heat, and the smoke returned to fill his lungs with a burning sensation that couldn't be good. Samuel's shorter, darker hair lung limp with sweat atop his skull as he felt a rush of vertigo that meant he was probably about to pass out. He felt a strangely silent explosion to burst only in his mind, and then he was falling into an abyss with no bottom. He fell for a very long time. "Hey," Samuel grinned as he stepped off the shuttle to wave to the men and women he had worked with for over five years as they searched the stars for a new home for their race. "I see you almost have the housing up already." "It's been three weeks, Sam," Marcus said quietly as he came forward to stand in front of his captain. "We were starting to worry." "Hell, Marcus," Samuel smiled all the wider as he walked away from the shuttle without a backward glance, ignoring the stares he drew. "It was a piece of cake." "Don't you think you should dress now," Marcus asked him as he glanced pointedly at Samuels' mostly naked body. "No can do," he replied with a smug tone, and an easy smile. "Part of the ritual is I now must go open before the spirits of the sun for the next few months," he informed Marcus, glancing down at his own muscled body covered only by his loincloth, and those odd adornments he had been given. "To change now would negate the whole deal. "And violate the ritual." "So......" Marcus shook his head. "Anything you can tell us, other than you now seem to get to practice nudism?" "I'm not naked," Samuel laughed. "Just....open." "Especially from the back," Mara Parks appeared in time to overhear his remark. "Nice look for you, captain." "Thanks. Believe me, it takes getting used to," he laughed, and then pointed at his own command officers heading his way from the nearly constructed housing quarters. "If you'll excuse me, it looks like duty has already caught up to me," he told those gathered around him. "Marcus," he nodded. "We'll talk later," he assured him. "What about my interview," Mara pressed with a hopeful smile. "Sure, Mara," he nodded at her as he left them to head toward his command staff. "I've never seen him so.....relaxed," Mara commented as she shared a concerned look with the commander, and Lt. Kite. "Nor have I. And he rarely calls anyone by name. He's too conscientious of rank, and duty. "Find the doc, would you," Marcus asked Mara. "I want him completely checked over before nightfall. Just a routine precaution, but I'd like to know what happened to him, and our psionic beacon," he added, the pair of them by now aware he had tried to track Samuel. "Those things don't usually fail without reason," Marcus added as the pair nodded their agreement. Marcus stared after Samuel, who was openly greeting his junior officers like old friends, rather than duty companions. He thought again of the dark cloud that had formed over him since Sam's beacon had stopped transmitting. The moment his shuttle had entered the atmosphere of Talos IV, the device had just stopped signaling. By then, they had no other choice but to let him go down. Anything else would look suspicious. But for three weeks, they had all watched, and waited, and worried. "What happened to you, captain," he murmured as he stared after the very less than proper captain who was laughing at something one of the men had said. Samuel tossed and turned most of the evening, the weight of some nameless burden bothering him that he couldn't quite give a name to just then. It was as if he suddenly knew the burdens of all three thousand men, women, and children who had filled the primary contact ship, and yet couldn't give voice to. He finally gave up trying to sleep, and without bothering to dress, since all he wore anyway was that brief loincloth, he left his quarters to step outside into the moons light. Three moons hung in the dark sky, two of them silver crescents, and the third a huge, bloated satellite that orbited out of sync with the others. He sighed as he moved naked through the cool night, the wounded grass beneath his feet soothing to his bare soles while his deeper frustrations and burdens continued unabated. It was quite peculiar, he knew. He had woke up free and clear of any real worries at all back on Talos IV. It was as if he had been wiped clean of all his responsibilities and duties in that little, smoke- filled hut. Then, the moment he landed, still feeling alive and well, and full of life, the dark burdens now haunting him suddenly began to press down upon him, their weight all but bowing his broad shoulders by the time he had tried to sleep. For they did not come all at once, but a few grams here, and a few there, unnoticed until sleep, and a still mind forced him to acknowledge them all at once. He didn't like the sensations of those burdens in his mind and heart at all. "There are night spirits," the shaman had warned him when she had instructed him. "They who will try your own spirit and will as naught else. You may doubt now, man of distant soil," she had warned, "But the spirits are the same wherever you stand in the universe. "There are day spirits, an there are night spirits. "And you will have to contend with the darkness alone, as surely as you will revel in the day's light and life. "This is the way of the great mother who birthed us all. It is her blessing, and her curse. You now face her endless cycle warring within your own flesh." she had told him in cryptic, and confusing manner. "So, what do I do," he had asked her. "You will find the way, if you trust the great mother that now resides within you," the shaman had smiled at him as if he were a child, only beginning to learn some greater truth. "So, what do I do," he echoed that question from weeks past as he stared up at the moonlit sky even as he recalled asking that question of T'Shaya, the shaman. Shamaness? "Your doubts prove your willingness to learn," came the confusing murmur in his mind from recent memory. "As your question proves your humility before the great mother. "All you need do is remember this night," T'Shaya had said. "And you will know what to do." Samuel sighed as he stood naked on the grassy plain between the initial fields being plowed by the colonists, and the growing community housing structures being made of their now useless ship. He had a sudden insight, and went to his knees and began digging with his bare hands to pull at the thick grass before him. It took some time, but he was soon enough standing naked outside his small hut, built from memory of the one he had entered back on Talos IV. He was glad Marcus had ensured the families had the first available shelter. After all, they were to be a colony, not a command center. Even as he gathered stones from the field around him, he did not realize he was being watched. He didn't know that three watched held the fourth back when he started to go after him when he first began searching for the right size stones from the fields the farmers were already breaking up to plow. In the darkness, he know only his labor as he worked methodically, intent only upon his task as he remain blithely unaware that four frowns watched him at his work. "Captain, begging your pardon," one of the nine men who came out early to start their own work asked, "But what the hell are you doing?" Samuel rolled over, his naked body covered in mud, and blinked sleepily up at the man. Behind him, the thick, circular walls of a mud hut now set in the middle of their first cleared field. He need only to finish the roof, and he could complete the fire pit he had already lined with stones, and swallowed out for his needs. Still, he had to find the proper heating stones, and kindling to light the fires. "Ah, Paul, isn't it," he asked, looking up at the big man in plain coveralls. "Yes, sir," the man nodded, his hair still short from their extended cryo-sleep. Even as he replied, Marcus, Pete, Mara, and Dr. Sawyer came up behind the farmers to gape at him. "It's...part of the ritual, right," Mara asked him as she looked over his construction. "But....why put it in the middle of our field?" "You're right," he stood up to look Mara in the eye, then turned to Paul. "And this has to stay. Leave it untouched, for only I can work on it. Just continue plowing around it, and I promise you, your crops will grow stronger than you can imagine." The men stared at one another, but the commander stopped any other questions as he stepped forward. "Captain," he address Samuel formally. "We need to speak to you on a matter of....some concern. Would you come with us, please," he asked. "Sure, Marcus," Samuel nodded, feeling his night's demons fade in the light of the coming day. T'Shaya, it seemed, had been right. He was feeling better already. "Perhaps you'd like would you like to start by explaining your unorthodox entry into primitive architecture," Marcus hissed as he all but dragged Samuel away to the ship where the command staff still quartered. Samuel stopped, staring at the hand gripping his arm. "There are things," he said, almost casually brushing Marcus' arm aside. "That cannot be spoken. You knew that before you ever sent me." "I don't suppose your....rituals....forbid bathing," Marcus grimaced, staring at his own now dirty hand. "No. Not at all. In fact, I intended to wash up before I went looking for the proper roofing for the deekal." "The....deekal," Mara echoed, her interest showing in her eyes. "Literally, house of spirits," Ben told them as he came out to join them. "I believe it is used by shamans to contact the spirits that guide them in their endeavors. "That about right," Ben asked Samuel without the slightest hint of derision. Samuel nodded at him. "Pretty close. I take it you're adding anthropology to your translation duties." "You all but have to with Talosian language structure," Ben nodded as the four bracketing the captain glared at their byplay. "Well, as I understand things," Marcus cut in. "You are still a captain in Earth-Gov's colonial services, and we have a colony to build." "Which is what I'm doing," Samuel agreed cheerfully. "In the meantime, I suggest we set up a private place where people can go if they need, or want counseling, or other support services." "Counseling," Marcus spat. "I get the feeling," Samuel told them all, "That some of our people are facing some serious problems that they are going to need help coping with. Which should have been expected," he added in a more solemn tone. "So, let's make sure they all know they aren't alone here, and that they haven't been just dumped, and forgotten. That we are all part of the same family, and we're here to help each other. "All right," he asked, smiling at each confounded face in turn. "Actually," Pete finally spoke, his military insignia on his collar glittering in the rising suns. "Morale is going to be as important as food and shelter in the coming months with the colonists out of the freezer, and so much work to do right from the start. "I think a counseling center is a good idea," he told the commander with a glance at Samuel. "Good," Samuel agreed as he turned away. "Now, since that is settled, I'm going to go wash up, and catch a b'gnion." Samuel left the small group gaping as he headed away from camp, whistling a strange tune as the men and women could only stare. Marcus looked to Ben a moment later, and asked, "What in hell is a bagneeo?" "Actually," Ben smiled faintly. "A b'gnion is what we would call a fish. And the species referred to is apparently quite common through this system. And considered a delicacy according to the Talosians. It is usually eaten raw.' "Raw," Mara frowned, who while tired of ship's rations after five years of it, still preferred her food well cooked. "It seems three weeks among the Talosians have really changed the captain," Beth remarked. Marcus eyed her, then turned to Pete. "Lt. Kite, you take care of setting up our....counseling center," he ordered. "Lt. Parks, you and Ben keep working on the primary vocabulary for our translators. "I especially want anything you can garner as relates to their religious ceremonies. "I'm going to go speak to our captain before he goes completely native," he spat as he marched off after Samuel. Ben's brows rose. "Now there is a fascinating concept." "What is that," Mara asked as the small group broke up to head to whatever duty called them. "Just a thought," he told her, who tended to be too quick to publish her thoughts, or anyone else's, in his opinion. It was as if she overcompensating for something by trying to focus solely on advancing her career at any cost. "Just a thought," he repeated. "I'll have to do some more research though before I flesh it out." "Let me know if you need any help," the redhead offered as she followed him into the ship. Ben was no fool, and he wasn't swayed by the teasing tone she had adopted. He had grown up on a Martian colony with five sisters all used to getting what they wanted through one means or another. He and his two brothers had little hope of contending with them at the best of times. He had been from a family that still practiced the old ways, and that meant no birth control. The end result was, he knew well enough when a woman was trying out her allure to blind you to their real intent. \ Ben said nothing as the admittedly capable woman followed him, but he was not fooled for an instant. Samuel, his increasingly longer dark hair dripping wet, once more clad only in his loincloth, was sitting on the edge of a wide riverbank that was now augmenting the colonists water rations. He was casually chewing on a pale, pink creature that looked somewhat fishy, Marcus supposed, if you transposed a bird with fishy characteristics. Marcus walked up to him, grateful he was at least clean now, and swallowed his bile at the thought of eating that peculiar creature raw. "Samuel," he called, careful about not startling the man as he sat rather precariously near the water. "Hello, Marcus," Samuel replied, his tone carefree, and indifferent sounding to the commander. "Sam, you and I have been friends a long time. Frankly, I have something to say, and I have to say it bluntly. "I'm worried about you." "No reason for that, Marcus. I'm fine," Samuel turned to smile at him. "Better than fine." "Running naked through the woods, and getting up in the middle of the night to build mud huts is not my definition of fine," he growled, taking another step closer to his friend. Samuel stared up at him, and Marcus almost recoiled as his blue eyed darkened even as his gaze leveled on him as direct as ever. "Marcus, this is part of the job. Did you think I'd go play liaison, and come back untouched? "There was something....something powerful that changed me on Talos IV. But....it was something wonderful, too." "What," Marcus demanded of him. "What could possibly make you shrug off years of discipline and duty to act like....like some backwater hermit?" "Is that what you think I'm doing," Samuel asked, his smile fading as he discarded the bones of the creature he had eaten by simply tossing them back into the river. "That I've given up on my responsibilities?" Sam smiled grimly now as he rose to face Marcus. A smile the old Samuel had worn for years when going into battle. "You are so very, very wrong, Marcus. Do you know what kept me up last night, Marcus? Do you really want to know?" "Yes," the older man insisted fiercely. Samuel took a step forward, locking eyes with Marcus' cooler, gray orbs. "I couldn't sleep, Marcus, because I could feel the burdens weighing on the souls around me. Every thought, every fear, every doubt and despair. I felt it all. "Our people are worried, Marcus. We were so busy building shelters here, digging up fields, that we forgot we have to take care of them, too. "This position....it is more than symbolic as we first thought. I feel our people's needs and worries. I can sense their souls. Your soul, Marcus. And I have to do whatever it is I can to help them, or this colony is doomed from the start." "But....building mud huts," he questioned. "The deekal is necessary," he told him quietly. "I need it." "You aren't actually buying into this alien superstition, are you," the commander demanded of him now as he frowned harshly at the man he was no longer certain he knew. "Do you know, I walked into the very heart of that sacred ceremony with the same doubts? I scoffed, and mocked everything around me. And they all just smiled at me, as if they knew a secret I just didn't get. As if they didn't mind I doubted, because they didn't. "And then, like I said before," Samuel smiled. "Something happened." "What? Damn it, Sam, what happened," Marcus demanded of him. "Can't you explain what is making you act so.....so unnatural?" "Unnatural," Samuel laughed. "You know what I mean," Marcus growled at him. "I can't tell you, Marcus. It's part of the deal. Part of the ceremony. The burden of silence, and trust, is all wrapped up in what happened to me. I can only ask that you trust me now." "I see," Samuel murmured. "And...is there anything else?" Samuel smiled. "now that you mention it. Yes." "What," Marcus asked darkly. "You can help me carry that pile of grass there back to the deekal," he chuckled, pointing at the mounded pile of thick grasses he had been pulling up earlier. "I thought you had to build this ting yourself," he commented dryly. "Build it, yes," Samuel agreed with a grin. "However, no one said I had to carry all the materials back myself," he added with a chuckle. Marcus shook his head at his behavior. "When this is all over, I'm going to be expecting one hell of a debriefing," he told his friend, but went to gather up an armload of stiff, yellow grass as Sam did likewise. "Marcus, don't you think that in all the universe, there are any mysteries left to discover," he asked as they headed back to the landing site. "I'm sure there are discoveries science has yet to...." "No, no, no," Samuel stopped him, shaking his head as he followed Marcus who was already sweating in his heavy uniform. "I mean mysteries. The stuff of.....of legends, and myth, and things like that." "Superstition, you mean." "Why superstition? People on Earth once believed it was bad spirits that made you die if you ate certain foods. Or trespassed on certain lands. Science came later to prove it was poisons in certain cellular structures, or toxins in meat. But suppose....what if there were spirits that caused the poisons to come into being in the first place?" "You are taking this whole business way too seriously," Marcus told him grimly as he plodded along with his burden, his uniform now all but sodden with sweat. "Maybe I should schedule you to take the first counseling session." "Actually," Sam laughed. "I thought I might aid those with the worst problems." "Well, that's just what we need," he swore. "The nut helping the nutty." "Yes, and the first thing I'd do is tell people to do is relax, and learn to be practical again. It's almost thirty-five degrees Celsius out here, and look at you. You're about drop from heat exhaustion all wrapped up in that dress uniform you insist on wearing. "After all, would it really hurt if you dropped the dress code out here? It's not like Earth-Gov is going to suddenly drop in for a surprise inspection," he smirked. "Besides," he added. "It might even help some of the others if you appeared a bit more...approachable." Marcus said nothing as they continued toward their base camp. He didn't want to let Sam know he had been thinking that very thing even before he had gone hunting him. Leave it to the recently changed captain to have been within shouting distance all along while he spent two hours going in circles before he found him, though. Sam crawled out of the deekal near dark, having put the last of the heavier stones in place that he had had sifted through for hours before finding just the right ones for his fire pit. Now he had but to light the fires, and let the cleansing smoke fill the hut before he officially entered the chamber of spirits. Tonight, he hoped his sleep would be less troubled after he sought aid for his people, and himself from the great mother. He knew that some of the colonists were already signing up for counseling after the general announcement. And more than one man, oddly enough, had agreed to go along with their wives. Those with children, he noted, seemed less likely to be as worried as the single men and women. Those were oddly enough, among the most troubled. The comfort of family, he decided, must be greater than even Earth-Gov had considered. "You sure you know what you're doing," the tall, blonde doctor asked in her usual icy demeanor as she studied him carefully while he selected the kindling for the fires with the same care he had the many stones he had carried from the river. "Of course," he told Dr. Sawyer. "T'Shaya taught me all I need to know." "He was the shaman you met?" "Yes, she was," he grinned at the physician. "Was?" "It seems that when one shaman, or shamaness, if you will, shows the way to a newcomer, they retire. Take up a normal life, and leave the spiritual realm to the new shaman they have groomed to take their place." "So....you do get to retire," Beth asked him. "In time," he nodded. "And when will you be retiring," she asked. "I don't know. Yet. T'Shaya said it is something you just know. As she knew I would be the one Marcus selected when Lo-Ral decided to test our integrity." "But....if she has retired, what of the Talosians? Are you supposed to help them, too, if they call again?" Samuel chuckled again as he finished piling up the kindling, and prepared to move it inside to light before he added the heavier logs. "Actually, Bethany," he called her. "I'm their shaman, too. I simply have less to do among them just now, as they are already so harmoniously balanced with our worlds. Our universe, if you will. "In time, it is our hope that our new colonists find that same harmony." "Our," she asked. "You....You are allying yourself with the Talosians now?" "Actually, Bethany," he smiled up at her as he held up a fragrant piece of kindling he found to his liking. It would be the ignition point, he decided. "Technically, we are all Talosians now, aren't we" "You have me there," the doctor nodded at him, her expression unchanged. "Cheer up, Bethany," he told her. "Life is the quest for balance. You will find your opposite if you open your eyes, and simply allow your soul to breathe." "What," she asked, staring after him as he crawled into the hut to deliver the kindling he had selected. She waited on him to reappear as Marcus came up beside her in the twilight almost unnoticed. "That's the way I feel talking to him anymore," he told her grimly. "Are you sure nothing showed up on his exam?" "Actually, he's yet to come in and let me check him out," Bethany told him grim as ever. "I was trying to talk him into coming in now, but he insists he's too busy." "I guessed as much," he sighed. "On the plus side, stress levels among the other colonists seem to have dropped in the past two weeks since he instituted the peer counseling groups, and I've yet to have to treat anyone for more than sunburn, or exhaustion." "Terrific," Marcus muttered as he noted the curl of smoke rising out of the low entrance to the strange hut. Bethany looked back at him only then. "Did you hear what he said about the Talosian shaman," she asked. "I heard enough. He's become as secretive as they are when they visit," he grumbled. "I'll keep an eye on him," she told him. "But for now, while he is acting somewhat unorthodox, he hasn't shown any real signs of dementia, or neuroses that I can detect. If anything, he's probably the healthiest of us all at first glance." Marcus' response was beyond rude. Samuel shoved back the lock of dark hair that now curled over his brow, blocking his vision as he continued to sew the cloak of animal skins that would be his winter garment. The commander was a little upset that he wouldn't cut his hair, but if he knew what Samuel now knew, he would likely go ballistic for certain. For he was now certain that by winter's end, when he pushed off his cloak for the spring renewal, his role would be quite clear to all the colonists. Even now, his once flat nipples were darker, puffier, and he could feel the twinge of his male sex as it dwindled, unnoticed by everyone else, since he had always been a solitary sort, and was not close to anyone in a way that would betray him. The spirits touching him were feminizing him. Just as they had T'Shaya, and those that had come before him, or her. He knew he should be shocked. Fearful. Something. He also knew on a deeper, more personal level that the regeneration of his body symbolized the blessing of the great mother, and the spirits that now surrounded the colony. By Spring, he would be she, and the ultimate blessing of fertility would be granted the colony. New life. For as T'Shaya's fading powers gave blessing and life to the crops they planted this past season, so his....her blessing would bring new life in the future to the crops, cattle, and people in the entire Talos System in the years to come. That certainty set firmly in his/her heart made it far easier to accept what had to be. As he sat before the second structure he had completed, a larger grass hut made for him to dwell in as he went about his duties, his fingers moved nimbly as he sewed his cloak with a familiarity of his task that went beyond personal experience. He hummed softly to himself as he considered the mantle of femininity that would soon be his to wear throughout the remainder of his life. T'Shaya had said nothing of that, but he had already learned more than she had taught simply through his communion with the spirits in his deekal. The weekly ritual he had come to look forward to, much to Marcus' growing disdain, was what kept him strong, and focused on his tasks. Yet while the misguided commander continued to try to undermine him, he couldn't deny that most of the colony now supported him since his guidance had invariably proven beneficial in all aspects of their lives. As promised, their crops had yielded more than enough to feed them, and the cattle found roaming on the nearby plains were suitable to domestication, and more than plenty. Winter, which had been a growing source of concern for many at first, was now a season of leisure and celebration as the colonists took to thanking the great mother in certain ways reminiscent of traditions from Old Earth, which only distressed Marcus all the more. What upset Marcus and his small faction all the more, though, was that more of the farmers were actually turning to him, rather than seeking the commander out. Especially in regard to spiritual matters, which seemed to be increasingly important, especially to the family men. Religion in general had long been abandoned by an enlightened Earth-Gov over three hundred years ago save for a few scattered pockets of discredited fanatics. And now Samuel was causing a rebirth of primitive spiritual superstition that was driving the commander mad. Samuel sighed as he considered his longtime friend and comrade. He wished he knew how to reach him. Marcus, who had ironically set him on his path, now did his best to try to disrupt his work at every turn. He would just have to accept that Sam could no longer be the man he remembered. Just as he would have to accept that he could no longer be stopped. Because he was no longer acting alone. He did not simply represent a single colony as Marcus had expected. He was now representing a combined race to be forged in the Talosian System of both Talosians, and former Terran peoples. Marcus, he knew, still envisioned a new Terra. A central Earth-Gov that would rule a renewed human race. But a race still primarily, and predominantly the same as that he had always known. It couldn't be. That was not the dream he shared any longer. To remain as he had been would be to cause the rape and pillage of the lush worlds they had come to in desperation, and the spirits that now guided him would never allow that. No matter what the cost. "Sam," Marcus voice shouted over the howl of the winds. "Sam, come out of there," he bellowed, hunched over near the entrance to the deekal, but still hesitating to actually enter unbidden. The Talosians still visited unbidden on occasion to confer not with him, but with the nameless shaman as even Samuel referred to himself now. And both of them could be unyielding when it came to respecting certain aspects of Sam's increasing role in their sector. "What is it," the cloaked figure asked in a peculiarly husky voice as the captain stuck his dark head out of the smoky interior. Now he kept the fire going, let alone breathed in there when it seemed the solar generators barely heated their insulated shelters was beyond him. "Laryn Hall's wife just went into labor," he told him. "She's refusing to let anyone but you attend her. You have to come quick. She's in a lot of pain." "Life is pain, Marcus, and it is life that is being born," Samuel replied in a soft voice that nevertheless managed to carry over the blizzard force winds around them. "Tell Nala I shall be there soon. In the meantime, she is to focus on the exercises I taught her. "Don't worry. All will be well. You will see. Her daughter will be born strong, and healthy." "Are you a damned prophet now," Marcus shouted back. "Shouldn't you at least convince her to have a medtech check her out?" "What could a simple tech know of life when we've had so very few births on Earth these past years," Sam's shadowed face smiled up at him before disappearing back into the deekal. "Sam! Captain Summers," Marcus shouted to no avail. The howl of the winds were his only reply. "This is going too far," he spat, stomping against the cold as he plowed back through his own steps already refilling with thick snow as the wind tore at his bare skin like icy knives. "Too damn far," he cursed as he considered just what to do about his rogue officer. Samuel entered the primary communal shelter nearly thirty minutes later, the colonists making a wide berth for him as he passed through their ranks. Marcus, near the door to the medical room Beth had set up, glowered at him. He had to shove and push and shout just to get through these people, and they treated Sam like royalty. Just what the hell was this all about? "Marucs," the cloaked figured in the ridiculous hide smiled serenely from beneath the hood asked. "How I she?" "Can't you tell," he snorted. "Don't be upset," Sam smiled again. "No one disrespects you," he said as if reading his mind. "It is jus that this is a very special time. A time of rebirth, and renewal. This shall be the very first new life born here on our new home. "The first Talosian of our species." Marcus started as Samuel simply nodded at the men and women around them. "It is a solemn time," he went on. "But a time of celebration. These people know this, Marcus. They want to be a part of it. Your status among us has not been diminished." Samuel turned and entered the medical clinic without another word as Marcus absorbed his words. There was no way the captain could have known what he was thinking, he sulked. No way in hell. "Hello, Nala," Sam greeted the pale, sweating woman when he entered the clinic. The woman smiled trustingly toward him, and Marcus couldn't help but notice the way all those within turned to him. Even Beth. An hour later, the shrill, demanding cry of an infant filled the air. Sam stepped out of the clinic, and smiled at the assembled colonists. "It is a girl," he told them. "And they have named her Tala, in honor of our hosts, and our new home. "It is a great, and powerful blessing," he added with a wide smile. The cheers around him were deafening, and Marcus actually felt a tear welling up in his own eyes as he watched the men and women, some of his own command staff, giving thanks, and blessing, for the child. He turned to speak to Sam, still uncertain as to how he could know so much, do so much, only to find him gone again. A draft of cold air down the hall told him where. How did he do it? He spent most of his time out there now. Or wondering through the lands surrounding their growing colony. Despite the weather, he came and went without suffering from any extremes. He never got lost, and he didn't even bother eating with them any longer. It was....unnatural. "I have my own nourishment, and the colonists will need their food until the Spring returns to allow the first crops to be seeded," he would always say. "My share will contribute to the seeding of extra crops needed for those yet to come." As if the Terran exodus could be accomplished in only a few months, when the message would only be reaching them something a few weeks past. It would take time to organize the mass transport required, and time to even reach the Talos System. More than a single Winter, Marcus snorted, that was certain. He considered the timetables involved, and knew it would be at least two years, maybe more, before the first new colonists arrived. Until then, they were on their own. In that time, if matters continued as they were, they might well end up worshiping rocks and trees if Sam kept on as he was going. He had to remind these people who they were. Somehow, he had to restore the discipline of Earth-Gov to his command. He knew as h glanced around the cheering assembly of farmers, laborers, and techs, that now was not the right time to start. "You and I are going to have a long overdue discussion, captain," Marcus spat as he caught Samuel a week later in the shadow of their now gutted transport ship, now frosted by snow, and well scavenged for the last parts necessary to build their thriving colony. Marcus had snatched at the cloaked figure as he moved past him, and then stopped cold, staring in disbelief at the face he had uncovered. "S-Sam," he choked. The woman's face framed by long, dark curls smiled at him, and Samuel spoke in that soft, husky voice he had been using of late. "It is me, Marcus," the fantastically beautiful woman with wide, blue eyes dancing with secrets replied. The winter storms had finally passed, but there was still a heavy chill hanging over the land. As if the world were holding its breath somehow. "What...What is happening to you," Marcus rasped, gaping at the face that was, and was not the man he remembered, and admired. "The great mother has filled me with the spirit of this land. The goddess is in me now, Marcus. This," he gestured at himself, "is the ultimate sacrifice. I am giving my body to her, to serve her by manifesting her power and blessing upon my own flesh. "In turn, when Spring arrives, we will be assured she is with us, and the spirits of life and prosperity will be among us, because I have walked after her way, as demanded." "This is....madness," Marcus swore, and with a sudden, savage jerk, he tore open the rest of the hide cloak belted around Sam's body. He felt a sickening nausea rise in his gut as he stared at his former friend and fellow officer. Now, rather than the well muscled man he remembered, he gaped at a slender, well-formed woman. Well, nearly a woman, for his loincloth still covered what seemed to still be a masculine organ beneath that small strip of hide. "Satisfied," Samuel asked him as he very carefully, and very methodically closed his hide cloak, and replaced his hood. "Satisfied," Marcus frowned. "You're turning into some kind of....of freak," Marcus bellowed. "No, I'm becoming the living manifestation of the goddess among us." Marcus stared in mounting fear and rage as the ever serene Sam turned his back on him, and headed back toward the nearby hills where he often walked alone of late. He was telling everyone now that it would be there that the next ship landed, and that land had to be sanctified, and prepared for the coming. Marcus acted impulsively at that moment, and jerked his sidearm he still carried out to slam into the side of Sam's head. The svelte creature that had replaced his officer dropped to the ground without so much as a sound. "It's time we found out just what the hell is going on here," he spat, and headed for Beth Sawyer's clinic with the unconscious figure in his arms. "Frankly, I don't know," the doctor admitted as she her team of techs worked over the naked body now stored in medical iso-stasis for safety. Sam was, by now, completely hermaphroditic, with a fully functional female body, inside and out, alongside a vestigial male organ that still functioned. Even more remarkably, Beth reported to the commander, she had found a strange growth in his brain near his pituitary gland that she couldn't explain. While they ran their tests, and probed, and prodded the transformed captain, Marcus assured everyone they would find out what had 'stricken' their shaman as they came to fret over him once word spread he was in medical. He was astonished at how many insisted upon seeing him, but thankfully, Beth used the scare of epidemic to keep them out. "I can tell you what he is, or seems to be becoming," she told Marcus as she studied the scans before her. "But now how. There is no sign of genetic restructuring. No telltale nannites, or similar constructs. "I found no trace of biological contamination, or other foreign organics. I can't even tell you if his state is contagious, or not. I can tell you, that growth in his head worries me," she said, glancing from the scans to the frozen figure inside the cryo-tube. "We can't even get at it without risking his life, and I doubt we can leave it without risking his life. "That's another reason I put him in stasis, as much as for the possibility of an unknown contagion." "If he were contagious," Marcus asked as he studied his friend with a twinge of guilt, "Wouldn't we have noticed others by now?" "Maybe," she countered. "But consider the behavior of a large number of the colonists," she said as they moved from the cylinder to the desk she used to study the work she was doing. "They have actually begun to revere him, and the spirit world he supposedly embodies. If something like this gets out, there would be no stopping this trend." "The very behavior the captain exhibited at the start, when he first returned from Talos IV," Pete said as he entered the clinic after flashing his security pass, and overhearing the doctor. "This is going to be troublesome," Marcus told them as he saw Pete studying the frozen figure in the stasis tube. "Once the Talosians find out we've neutralized their agent, they could decide we're hostile, and negate the treaty." "But as you pointed out," the security chief cut in as he turned from Sam's body to study him. "We cannot allow this madness to continue to spread, or we risk chaos, as well as the captain's life, and very sanity." "There's no reason to make snap decisions," Beth told them as she settled behind her desk. "We have what, four weeks of Winter left, and they were here just last week. That means another two months at least before they visit us again. So we should be well into Spring, and more than ready for them by then." "Surely we can come up with something by then," Pete suggested. "Maybe," Marcus remarked glumly as he glanced back at Sam. "If we don't come up with something soon, though, we'll have more than the Talosians to worry about. There are a lot of people demanding to see him. And I'm running out of excuses." "Sir," one of the med techs spoke up only then. "Maybe....Maybe the captain has been telling the truth all along. Maybe what he has been describing is real," the woman suggested. The trio's eyes turned to the young woman only two months pregnant herself after a recent wedding to a low-level engineering tech who was talking about moving to the field to start his own farm. The woman blushed at the trio's stares, then shrugged "It was just a thought," she suggested. "I would think by now the supernatural would have been well disproven by our scientific advancements," Marcus declared firmly. "No, this is some kind of Talosian trickery. After all, their own science is far ahead of our own. They must know things we have simply yet to find. That's all." The medtech didn't argue as she went back to monitoring the frozen body of their shaman. Not even the colonists who continued to complain about their missing shaman ever came forward to force the issue though. Not until seven weeks later, when the winter snows seemed not only to not be ending, but growing heavier, and the far worse than predicted. Women were the first to suggest it might be because of their treatment of the shaman. Their men could not help but listen. Not with the unexpected snowstorms threatening to bury them all, and their stores fast running out. Those men finally decided to do something they felt should have been done from the start. Marcus, Beth, and even the surly Peter had to stand by helplessly as an armed contingent of colonists stormed the medical clinic, and freed the sleeping Sam. Not one of them felt it strange that their former captain should now look more woman than man as the cryo-tube cycled to let its prisoner out. All that mattered to those people was that their shaman was freed. Finally, Sam set up on the cold slab pulled out of his iso-tube, and asked politely for his possessions which included his jewelry, loincloth, and cloak. After donning those things, he rose in a graceful manner, as if unaffected by the long stasis, and walked though the crowd that parted for him as he/she headed for the main exit. "It can't be," someone cried out, and the cry was soon taken up. Bethany frowned, and led Marcus, and Pete after the others who followed Sam outside, who walked barefoot, heedless of the deep snow. The winds howled no more, though, and the snows were beginning to melt all around him/her as Sam headed unerringly toward the buried deekal in the center of the nearby field. In the middle of the field, just as Sam reached the deekal, smoke rose from the small mud hut, billowing around the hide curtains even though it had been almost two months since the last fires had been lit in that long buried structure. Sam turned to face the stunned procession behind him, and smiled. Then, throwing off his cloak, he/she tore off her loincloth, and bared her new flesh to the sun that now shone through the clouds, seeming to shine almost exclusively on her as more than one of them realized Sam was now completely female. "Bless the great mother, and her sister, the spirit of the earth," she intoned as she threw out her hands as if to embrace them all. "Bless she who is mother to all worlds, and giver of all life, and praised she who rebirths herself to us in every Spring," she changed in her husky, almost inhumanly sensual voice. "Sacrifice your hearts by giving in faith to her, and learning the lessons she has to show you. Follow her example, my children, and your crops will grow tall, and your cattle and families strong alongside them. "And welcome our first new friends," she declared as a huge, roaring announced the arrival of a silver needle that thundered down out of the sky to land not too far away on a snow-capped hillside. Marcus only stared as he watched the massive transport maneuvering to land exactly where s/he had claimed it would. Yet his eyes were invariably drawn back to Sam, who now stood smiling at the people standing around her as they cheered, and echoed the chants she had begun. Even as the big ship landed not a mile off, its thrusters' backwash blasting great craters in the frozen ground as it sent icy mud flowing down the hill, covering much of their own fields over, Marcus noted the earthen flow completely avoided the small deekal in the center of the first field. "Don't worry," Sam told Marcus as she seemed to suddenly appear right beside him. "From the mud comes new life. From our friends, new life, as well, as well as many more hands to lighten our duties. "And they are but the first," she smiled at him as if heedless of his attempted betrayal. "When will the others come," someone called out. "By Fall, the next ship will arrive," she told them. "There must be much more food stored by then," she advised. "And we must be prepared to aid them in surviving the Winter months. But all will be well if you heed the great mother," she promised, and Marcus couldn't help but feel the surge of warmth and trust as Sam's words echoed in his own ears. "It is time, my friends," she told them with her usual smile. "To return to our labors. Let the men tend the fields, and the women prepare a feast. "And if I can gain some volunteers to follow, I will show you where the cattle have roamed, that will restore your thinned herds. These can be tamed, and add not only to our stores, but give us fresh milk for the young," she told them as the cheering began anew. She turned to Marcus even as men started crying out to follow her, and she told him, "We shall go and seek the cattle now, with your permission, of course," she grinned, giving him a coy wink. "Who....Who are you," he rasped, staring at his transformed friend. "I am now S'lara, shaman of the Talosian peoples," she told him. "Now, come. We shall welcome our new friends, first, and then tend to the gathering of the cattle," she suggested as more than enough men joined her as she headed up the hill where the newly arrived transport was only just opening its great doors. "I believe, doctor," Marcus murmured wearily as he watched Sam, now S'lara lead the people up the muddy hill lauging and praising their new mother., "That we are witnessing the end of our civilization." "No," Beth told him. "We are viewing the beginning. A rebirth. Just as...S'lara said," she told him. "You....You're starting to believe in that....?" "Superstition? I don't know. I do know what I saw when she stepped outside our shelter, commander. "Look. Just look," she gestured around them. "Look at the sky, and the gound, and forest." He did, and realized only then the entire world around them seemed to be....blossoming. Green was erupting everywhere around them, and the snows were already melting with preternatural swiftness, leaving thick, rich mud behind that would soon nourish the crops the colonists would be planting. "And," Beth added. "She did predict the arrival of the colony ship." "A planted beacon," he suggested. "Since when has the captain used anything of our tech lately? Not to mention, the ship wasn't due for years." "Right," Marcus grimaced as he faced that realization. "I forgot our shaman....has turned native." "Look at it this way, commander," Beth suddenly smiled, and Marcus realized for the first time just how pretty she was when she did. "No matter what we think, S'lara is giving our race another chance. A chance we might not have had without Talosian help." "I suppose," he grumbled as they stared after the men and women now meeting the others coming out of the newly arrived transport ship. "Then, don't you suppose we had better start learning just what it's really all about? I'll admit I still don't know how S'lara is doing what she does, but she's obviously doing it. I'd like to know how. Because, great mother, spirits, or not, there must be a logical basis for it, or it wouldn't be possible. "I think, Marcus, that there is much more for us to learn here than we thought." "Ah, now you are starting to use your mind, Bethany," S'lara told her with a beaming smile as she embraced her from behind before tugging her up the hill after the others. Marcus and Beth both gaped at the naked, dark-haired woman walking between them. They both knew she had led that mass of excited people up the hill, and yet she had somehow rejoined them without ever coming back down the slippery slope of loose mud. Now she was with them, leading them after the stragglers, but neither bothered to ask. After all that happened, all they co