Wild Thing
Authors: L. J. Kendall
Wild Thing
by
L. J. Kendall
For my wife, Stella, who encouraged me and helped me, through all the happy years we had.
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Creator: Kendall, L. J., author.
Title: Wild thing / L.J. Kendall.
ISBN: 9781925430011 (ebook)
Series: Kendall, L. J. Leeth dossier ; v. 1.
Subjects: Magic--Fiction.
Science fiction.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Copyright © L. J. Kendall, 2015
Cover image copyright © Mirella de Santana
Girl image copyright © Pindyurin Vasily / Dollar Photo Club
Background image:
http://l.facebook.com/l/vAQFDJGMsAQEe6HIPO8CfpXviJT4s4w9RHGRQrx1IsVUxxA/pt.depositphotos.com/49042221/stock-photo-destroyed-tenement-house.html
Debris, dust:
http://l.facebook.com/l/oAQFz8MmqAQGVexoZQMs3RPZjugjJ1XmhN2Ukg0GwvUV8KA/roen911.deviantart.com/
Fire and effects:
http://l.facebook.com/l/LAQF5Qe7eAQGmPe0MBvnDkHqGp7nfZTP_zbrobhOLNqhCLQ/cgtextures.com
All characters and corporations in this story are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or institutions is accidental.
Release version: 7
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to thank my wife, Dr Stella St. Clair-Kendall, from her generous use of red ink in the first editing of this story, to putting up with the chagrin which followed, and for all her ongoing support and encouragement.
An especially deep thanks to Jon Marshall for his insight, support, and help in shaping Leeth over two decades.
Sincere thanks also to Dave at
ThEditors.com
for his extraordinarily valuable insights and advice, and particularly for pushing me to tell more of Sara's time at the Institute: this book would not have existed on its own if not for that. If you see a problem, you've probably found a spot where I ignored his advice.
Another special thank you to Mirella de Santana, the artist who designed my cover. You can see more of her wonderful art on her Facebook page at:
https://www.facebook.com/mirellasantana.digitalartist
and at
http://mirellasantana.deviantart.com/
And last but not least, I wish to thank the Online Writing Workshop for Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror site,
http://sff.onlinewritingworkshop.com/
, and all the writers who reviewed chapters, there – more than a few years ago.
Thank you, all.
I should add: a special thanks to Louise Harris, who gifted me with a free proofreading; but any errors remaining are my own work, not the fault of anyone who has helped me.
Table of Contents
Note:
there's a special offer if you're 1
st
to inform me of errors in the text – see
Publishing, 2015
for details.
PROLOGUE
Chief High Cloud crouched, silent, hands still trembling in shock. Trying to understand it all: the vision; the bonfire's snuffing; the hungering cold.
One small ember struggled in the frozen ashes, and blowing gently he nursed the fire back to life, taking comfort from the simple act. Firelight breathed traces of warmth and hope back into the shocked faces around him. Their desperate expressions pressed on him like the hopes of distressed children, eager to believe a parent could somehow make everything all right.
There would be no way to make this right,
he knew.
Behind him, beyond the gathering of mis-matched people, the sun's last light crowned their geodesic domes in a glow of burnt orange. Even as he watched, the tallest slid into darkness.
Not an omen,
he told himself, as the flame took tentative hold.
But he could delay no longer. Old bones, weakened from too many zero-gravity months in years long past, protested as he stood to speak into the wretched stillness.
'Let us talk. We can not accept one whose Way is murder. Human Beings should kill only for food, respecting our brother creatures for the gift of their life. We cannot open our hearts to the woman in the vision we have just seen.
'The rules of the Sky Corn community are clear. The child must be sent from us. She must leave her name. She must take nothing. Let her go to a people for whom killing and destruction is a part of their culture: she will go to the
Wasichus
. Let her killings happen there, just as we saw, rather than among the People. If one day she sees the evil of her actions; if the Great Spirit moves her, and she proves herself worthy, then perhaps may she rejoin our community.' He stopped and waited, letting any other speak who wished to.
Abruptly, the girl's mother rose to her feet. Black hair cascaded down her back like liquid, one hand briefly brushing the gentle curve of her belly for reassurance, yet something – the way she stood, the expression on her face – made her seem dangerous. Her husband flowed swiftly upright behind her, placing large steadying hands on her shoulders. His touch seemed to calm her; allowed words to come. 'I would speak.'
The chief looked from her to the shaman who still stood leaden with sadness. The wise-woman slowly lifted her head and nodded. He turned back to the child's mother. 'The Sky Corn community will hear Shining Hair.'
Her words leaped forth. 'My daughter would never do these things! She is a good child. Good, and brave. The young woman in the vision was not Happy Mouth.' She looked around at the doubting faces. 'You all know my daughter: she is loving, not cruel.
'My husband and I follow your ways. We teach them to our child. We
know
that violence is wrong. Deeply. It's why we came to you – not just for your vision for the future, or your honoring of the past. We are teaching her to respect life, to reject violence. You know this is true.' She stopped, meeting the eyes of each of the solemn faces, hating the note of desperation which had crept into her voice.
Her voice sank, against her will, fighting fear for her daughter and shame for herself. 'Aunt White-Eyes’ vision was not of the future, but the past. She saw me, from my bad days. You have all mistaken my daughter for me.'
A mutter ran through the patchwork tribe. Her husband's head was bent, now, his face impossible to read. But his hands, still resting on his wife's shoulders, tightened involuntarily at her words.
The wise-woman shook her head sadly. 'No. All saw. It was not you, Shining Hair. You speak with love, but not with truth.'
The vision was too fresh for denial. Raw, red meat,
pulsing
bloody in a delicate hand. Then flames, one girl dancing like a scythe through panicked leather-clad bikers while another fed…
Finally, the twisted scene with its inhuman cold. Cold which had, terrifyingly, reached for them all
through
the flames, scrabbling for purchase in the watchers until the wise-woman broke the link. Leaving a circle of stunned faces around a bonfire suddenly black, cold, and dead.
All had thought their hearts equal to the reluctantly-shared vision. But that vision had been far worse than they had feared.
The child's mother pushed herself away from her husband. 'In the vision, her killing was in a city. Perhaps if we keep her amongst us, the vision can be broken.'
'Our shaman's visions have always revealed truth,' the chief answered, 'even for those who tried to change the future foreseen. Keeping your daughter would be to nurture one who will be a murderer. Should she stay here, maybe she would bring her killings here, to our small community.
'But worse: might not such attention reveal your presence to those who hunt you?'
At those words, all present stiffened.
'But now we know this future we can raise our daughter so it won't happen!'
'How? You do not know what will make Happy Mouth that way, so you can not know what to change,' the Chief said. 'We have seen the natural future for your child. Would you seek to change her true nature? To bend her?'
'So you're saying it's natural for her to kill? That it's
all right
? That goes against everything the Sky Corn community is supposed to stand for!'
'Shining Hair, you have much to learn.' He looked sad. 'Though a Way is wrong, we do not try to force others to our path. That Way is wrong too, and most treacherous. A coyote is not a coyote without its teeth. But we will not have her here, now we know her Way.' He stopped again and waited, watching all the faces.
Only silence answered him this time.
'Then it is so.' He looked back to the parents, troubled. 'And you, Shining Hair and Crazy Bee, will you hold to your vows and stay? Or will you go with your daughter, and join in her killings?'