Transformation by M J Marlow (new reading TXT) 📖

just in time. “They do not know it was you, Omri Snow,” Zen’s voice sounded in his mind. “They follow rumor, not fact. Rest easy.” Omri noddedand moved up the face of the mountain quickly. He did not rest easy, however, until he was aboard his transport,and on his way back to his temple on the other side of the planet. Here he would resume his normal activitiesand wait. Here he would make his plans for the day when the child, Zen, would become the weapon she had been designed to be for the Triad,and give him access to the power he craved. Bemin Tor looked back at his complex for a momentand wished he could stay. But the Science Directive were not people to mess with. He knew that from personal experience. He had been one of their bestand brightest before he had found Zen. Their orders to bring her to them for examination had not set well with him. This was a special child, he remembered thinking as he had looked down into her beautiful face. Twenty-five centuries had not touched her body or, it turned out, her mind. So he had gone into hiding, keeping contact only with his cousin, who felt about the Directive as he did,and his family through a friend among the Chen felinoids. He knew he had to keep protecting her, so he contacted his son. They met in Geem, the largest city in the central plain. “Father,” Marek Tor bowed his head as Bemin entered the tavern. “You are looking well.” “As are you, my son,” Bemin smiled. He looked his child over, impressed. “Your employers have agreed to this little task?” “They were quite intrigued at your request for my services,” Marek nodded. “As was I. You need me to track a girl? Surely someone of lesser rank could do such a service…” “I need you to keep an eye on her for me, Marek,” Bemin Tor said as he joined his son at a table in the tavern. His son wore the garb of a mere traveler, but Bemin knew it was mere show. Marek Tor was one of the best agents the Governors of this world had ever trained. He pulled out the holo-pic of Zenand saw his son’s interest mount. “The princess Zen.” “Princess?” Marek asked, his eyes remaining on the picture of the copper-haired child with golden eyes. “Such a one should not be traveling wild.” “It is her wish,” Bemin told his son. “She wants to learn of the world.” He did not hide his worry then. “She is like an infant out here, Marek. She doesn’t know anything about life outside.” “And you would not have harm come to her,” Marek nodded. He looked up from the picture. “Am I to make myself known to her?” Marek asked as he looked at his father over the rim of his mug. “Or just keep watch?” “You may make yourself known to her,” Bemin replied. Having Marek that close to Zen suddenly seemed like exactly what was needed. “But don’t let her know that I put you up to it.” He placed his critak on the tableand rose to his feet. “I will be in the western reaches with Chen’yaand her pride. When it is time, she will head that way. Guard her, son. See that she is kept safe from the Directive.” “Ah!” Marek exclaimed softly. “Now we hear the snag.” He looked at his anxious parentand knew there was something very special about this child. But he knew his father was not going to tell him what that was. He nodded his agreement. “You have no fears, Father. I have as little love for the Directive as you do. That is why I chose to go to work for the Governors.” “They know about her,” Bemin frowned, guessing from his son’s glance back at the pictures. “Mere rumors,” Marek told him, “of a strange copper haired child with abilities beyond her years.” He looked at his father seriously. “The Directiveand the Temple both want her, Father. My superiors sent me out to find her before I ever got your message.” He picked up the critakand put it back in Bemin’s hand. “The ale is on me, sir. Travel safe.” “Travel well,” Bemin replied without thinking. Bemin got his travel cordand settled it over his left shoulder. He watched his son move off, knowing he had done everything he could to keep Zen safe. Marek was the best at his work; he would see that Zen would remain safe. She would arrive in Geem soon,and now he had eyes on her. Unlike the Celestial Temple or the Science Directive, the Governors would not interfere in Zen’s life. He looked around the tavernand committed it to memory. Where he was headed, there would be no taverns. He preferred it that way. * Zen did not know what it was that had called her towards the western reaches. Whatever it was, it was insistent. Fighting the pull only gave her headachesand she was tired of pain. She had wandered the entire planet in the past two summers, spending brief times in as many townsand villages as she could. She had learned the customsand languages of most of them. They were locked away in her mind, ready to be brought forth if the need arose. Several times in the past two summers, she had learned hard lessons about men who hunted weaker beings. Or, she smiled briefly to herself; they had learned these lessons. She was a female,and thus considered weaker, but she was not. Her mind held information on many forms of defense that she had ‘borrowed’ from the minds of many she had met in her travels,and she had not shied from using it as the need arose. She had earned reward for becoming a protector for many people, but always on caravan. Zen knew she must keep moving. The call would come one day,and she had to be ready. Until then, she traveled,and learned everything her mind could pull from unwitting teachers, as she waited. She entered the villageand examined the town square with a smile. It was like so many others, but the designs on the base of the fountain were unique to this new region she traveled. She filed the designs away in her mind as she looked them over; in the hopes that she would have time to review them in her mind later. So like,and yet unlike, the designs she used to create under the lady Atav’s tutelage when she was a child. She bowed her head lowand issued the traditional request for admittance. A tall, very muscular man, with seven silver braids bound two, three,and two around his head, came forwardand issued the traditional acceptance of her. She stepped over that imaginary line she had made themistake of crossing only onceand pulled out her water bag. She saw a familiar face among the villagersand hid her surprise. It was him, her mind cried out in delight. The young man who had been tracking her since they had met seven days ago in Geem, three valleys south of this place. He hid his recognitionand turned back to haggling for supplies. “The journey has been longand hot, Elder,” Zen said to the man as he went back to his spot in front of his hut. “May this traveler fill her bag?” She opened her coin sackand drew out a bluestone. “This weary one has payment.” “Travelers are welcome to our waters,” the Elder replied, smiling at her manners. “You are well-mannered for one so young.” “It is safer to know the manners one needs to travel, Elder,” Zen bowed her head, “then to be punished for offering an unintended insult.” She filled her water bagand left the bluestone on the base, seemingly forgotten. She could tell from his mind that the past summer had been hard. Payment, though not required, would be most welcome. But as she lifted the water to her lips, she froze. Jevis, her mind analyzed the waterand knew the substance. It was a paralytic used to trap the unwary. In the myriad of tests that her rescuers had run on her once she had become convinced they meant her no true harm, she had also been found to have a strange reaction to it. Her body took feverand burned until the drug was cleared from her system. Anything she was wearing at the time disintegrated in the heat. She set her bag down as she realized she had wandered into a slaver village. “The refreshment can wait.” “The water is not to your liking, traveler?” the Elder frowned, wondering how the child could know the water was drugged. “We have other liquids…” “It is not that, Elder,” Zen broke in as she sank down to her knees where she was. “There must be thanks given for this safe harbor.” She opened her supply pouchand drew out the cage, smiling. She set it in front of herand focused. Five of them, moving in from different directions, she told her little friends. She showed them the faces of her attackersand received confirmation from the beac that they would protect the mother. She sent them gratitudeand warmthand they began to glow with joy. She closed her eyesand smiled, the picture of innocence at prayer. There they came. No harm, she sent to her little ones, subdue only. Now! She opened the cageand light cascaded over the sideand flowed out in five directions. Men screamed, men cried,and men came to fall at their knees behind her, bound in the light. She looked in their mindsand saw that these men had been hired to find herand bring her to their employers. She drew breath from them – just enough;and heard them collapse. Then her companions returned to their homeand she put the cage on a cord of the supply line tied over her shoulderand knotted on the opposite hip. She looked over towards the Elderand saw that her friend had a blade at the man’s throat. “This one was overlooked, girl,” Marek Tor told her. “He was coming your way as you were distracted.” His eyes were cold as he looked at the older man. “Shall I end him for you?” “It is not necessary,” Zen replied. “He will continue to hunt…” “Find another way to make your living, Horan Mier,” Zen said as she rose gracefully to her feet in one fluid motion. She could feel the man’s shock as she used his name. “I do not wish to cause harm, but I will not be caged.” She picked up the water bagand dumped the contents back into the fountain. Then she hung it on the cord hanging down her backand moved away. This village was a place of those who caused damage to others. She would not remain here. It would be too tempting to do damage in return.And Zen was tired of causing damage. The screams of those she had caused harm to in her desire to protect, unfetteredand uncontrolled before she had remembered control, still haunted her dreams at night. She headed towards the western reaches, masking her travels in a cloud of confusion. It did not please her to be able to do these things; these things were necessary to keep her free of those who would keep her from her goal. “That was a neat trick,” Marek smiled as he joined her at camp later that night. He watched the beac flies a moment, as the tiny creatures danced inand around the strange child,and smiled briefly. Zen was struck by how the momentary joy made his ice blue eyes soften. It was the only softness she had seen in this young man of twenty summers with his weather-tanned skinand deep blue-black hair since they had met. “May I?” “You may, Marek Tor,” Zen nodded to himand indicated he might enter. “No little ones,” she said to the beac,