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eBook Category: Dark Fantasy/Romance
eBook Description: She became a woman and changed the destiny of her race. Abandoned by her race, manipulated by a unique individual, Dael grasps the opportunity to break free of ancient bonds and become the woman she imagines. In doing so she finds a love beyond anything her world has ever known and bears a son with the power to rewrite history. Together, they wrest the father from the inexorable demands of time on his own world and change their own world forever.

eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, Published: 2006
Fictionwise Release Date: May 2006

17 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [1.2 MB], eReader (PDB) [223 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [211 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [188 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [181 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [235 KB], hiebook (KML) [534 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [282 KB], iSilo (PDB) [174 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [217 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [254 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [275 KB]
Words: 62368
Reading time: 178-249 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"Mistress...?"

Dael, a lesser hive member of the Blood and reluctant administrator of this insignificant northern archipelago, turned from her contemplation of the view through the stern windows of the great cabin and faced the Senior Councilor of Kyos. One of Belen's Elite, he was obsessed by the minutiae of administration and terrified of responsibility. She didn't like him.

"Yes, Councilor?" she said aloud, putting aside the ease of mind-to-mind contact to hide her dislike of the man.

"We need a decision from you before we proceed..." She needed no mind scan to feel his fear. Everything about her made him nervous. Her choice of female hosts upset him, and her habit of traveling in the flesh for periodic inspections offended his self-importance. He retained too many of Belen's prejudices.

She didn't mean to frown, but the matter was so trivial. A simple extension of existing policy...

Panic at her displeasure swirled around her and she reacted instinctively, freezing the minds of all eight councilors to buy time. The four women weren't the problem. It was the males, all Belen's ex-hosts. The Hive Master was too quick to punish and careless of the harm it caused. It made his Elite a burden on the rest of the Hive, easily panicked and difficult to calm

Gentling each mind took time, but there was no point in hurrying. The Elite were in no danger and their meeting in the great cabin was private--no Commoners allowed.

The Senior Councilor proved difficult. Belen had handled the changeover carelessly, leaving too many memories unedited, with fear the dominant emotion, making the man afraid of the simplest decision--hardly the ideal qualification for his role in Kyos. It was her fault too. She should have scanned him thoroughly when Belen sent him to her.

Immortality provides no guarantee against error.

The thought came into her mind, not as a deliberate communication, because it had no source, more a wry observation, carrying the shadow of another's amusement. An echo from the Group Mind, perhaps. She'd long since accustomed herself to it monitoring her and had to concentrate consciously to sense its presence. Belen's dissatisfaction had reached it.

She wished she felt as the others did on entering the Group Mind. She could share their joy only secondhand, never personally experiencing the total integration transcending all consciousness of individuality. She sometimes wondered whether they were pretending, victims of a willful self-delusion practiced long enough to feel real.

She put this aside and focused, working her way through the Elite until she was satisfied. Their experience as hosts to the Blood made it easier, conditioning their minds to accept her control. A little time to arrange the scene, dumping most of the food out the stern galley, to account for the time lapse. Even the Elite had no idea how much the Blood could manipulate their minds and those of the Commoners, so she wanted nothing to arouse their curiosity when she released them as a group.

"Sorry I had to leave you for a while. I hope you enjoyed your lunch." Speaking made it easier to conceal the truth. Mind contact carried verity, sometimes a little too far.

A brief warring between their physical hunger and the recollection of eating imposed by Dael created a moment of confusion, but all of them could afford to miss one meal.

The meeting continued, the Elite following Dael's example, nibbling at the left-over food as they talked. She saw no reason to deprive her host body of sustenance. Samara wasn't over-fed and she'd grown fond of her in the last twelve years. Gentle manipulation had cleansed her of inherited disease, toned her muscles, and enhanced her natural beauty until no one could doubt her status as a Chosen. Even her mind had learnt discipline and no longer battled for control. Dael scanned its dreaming state and approved. The woman would make a useful Elite five years from now, probably here in Kyos since she came from a fishing village just down the coast.

Relaxed, Dael let part of her mind wander, the remainder having no trouble keeping up with the flow of primitive thought in her companions. Like all non-telepaths, their need for a language limited them. They called her race theBlood, but the word captured only a tiny fragment of the complexity of its identity. Group Mind, Hive, and Hive Master were all approximations. Even her personal name was beyond them, shortened to a meaningless sound, another frustration of dealing with the indigenous race.

Yet the Blood needed them. Unable to survive without physical hosts, the Group Mind had tailored the rewards of hosting to ensure a constant supply of volunteers from the Commoners. Many people were willing to exchange seventeen years of their lives for a healthy body, doubled life span and elevation to the wealth and power of the bureaucrats of this world, the Elite. Both races had prospered--until recent times...

"Mistress?"

Dael refocused. It was the Senior Councilor again. She'd replace him soon, which would anger Belen. The Hive Master didn't like his actions questioned, especially by a subordinate he'd reprimanded even before she left the Hive. But she couldn't tolerate repeated stupidity.

"The Commoners still resist being ordered around by women." The Councilor glanced at Dael's Elite. "It goes against the grain, so to speak." He was looking at her and she could feel his fear lurking behind her conditioning.

"I am a woman. Do they object to me?"

"You are a Chosen. Everyone knows you can be whatever you choose."

He was right, although Dael hadn't chosen a male host in the last three thousand cycles, the source of another reprimand from Belen.

"They will become used to it."

"Change?" he said skeptically. "Mistress, we don't change things much."

He was right again. The Blood had enforced a system of peaceful cooperation on a primitive planet of warring tribes so long ago that no one remembered the last change. History no longer existed.

Dael scanned him, probing below surface uncertainties to find the cause. Coercion was simple and she had the power, but it never felt entirely satisfactory.

Belen again. He thought so little of his Elite that he never took the trouble to heal them afterwards. This poor fool had accumulated all his faults, including a prejudice against women. She'd have a lot of work to do, fixing this. Replacing him was simpler.

Samara's physical distress impinged on her mind. Her host was tired and deserved more consideration than this fool.

"We'll meet again tomorrow. We can discuss it then."

The others, uncomfortable with the hint of discord, agreed, rising hastily to their feet and backing towards the cabin entrance. The sailing master, alerted by Dael, was there, opening the bulkhead partition and shepherding the Elite away, even the Senior Councilor, who still hesitated.

"Come on, good sir. It's slack tide. Makes the gangway steady."

It was enough. Dael's routine of having onboard meetings during her tours of inspection had seen more than one Elite dumped unceremoniously by the narrow plank gangways, deliberately rigged without hand ropes.

Left alone, Dael scanned her host body. Aside from a healthy hunger and an incipient cramp from having sat for so long, it was well. The menstrual cycle, now perfectly regulated, was approaching its monthly fruition and the hormones triggered by the impending ovulation were in full flow, probably the cause of the tiredness. They'd retire early and Samara could rest.

It was strange she never lost the awareness of her host. No other in her Hive experienced such continuous connection.

"Ma'am," the sailing master called from behind her.

Dael smiled as she turned to face him. A stiff-necked individual, he always sounded as if the honorific was catching in his throat. "Yes?" Mind to mind contact made him uncomfortable, so she limited it.

"When will we sail? Our draught makes Kyos tidal and we're not long past the neap."

"Is there a suitable tide two days from now?"

He nodded.

"Make it so, sailing master." She was teasing him by echoing his nautical jargon.

"Aye aye, ma'am." He was smiling, too, and Dael wondered if it would be this easy if she'd chosen an ugly host.

"Rig the awning, sailing master. I'll sleep on deck tonight. It's warm enough."

"Aye, ma'am."

He turned away and Dael watched him go, still puzzled by the sudden impulse to change her sleeping arrangements. These sudden impulses were occurring more frequently of late. Perhaps Samara was flexing her mental muscles?

Two hours later, she was pleased with her decision. Screens beneath the awning ensured privacy from the wharf, keeping it snug without any of the sour bilge smell that pervaded every 'tween-decks space in the ex-trading schooner. A soft bed of cushions outboard of the coach-house completed the furnishing.

Dael could feel her host body's need as she relaxed. Samara was asleep within a dozen breaths, and Dael retreated into her haven, the closest thing she knew to human sleep. The others in her hive spent their host's sleeping time in the Group Mind, but Dael was never entirely comfortable there.