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    War Bride
    War Bride
    War Bride
    Ebook250 pages3 hours

    War Bride

    By Sharon L Reddy

    ()

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    About this ebook

    This is a love story of a very different sort.

    "He awoke. It was a shock. He hurt too much to be dead. He nearly resented it. He should be dead. He'd felt the shot that killed him. Everyone else was dead. His father, brother, cousins, friends, all dead and he was alive. After that, the realization he was looking at a chain around his wrist and arm wasn't even surprising."

    "Not restraints, chains. Why chains? They were old things, used for decorative purposes, but not these. They were shiny new and looked like steel. He smiled slightly. He'd decided he wanted to be alive after all. He wanted to learn why chains."

    Caerdonna was a beautiful world and well-suited to human settlement, then the disaster that couldn't happen had. When great disaster strikes, society must adapt to survive. The woman who'd been president, when it happened, was sent aid for her world. She thought she might be able to protect it.

    Sharon Reddy:
    "Writing the relationship of Roman, Mike and Dirk was a warm experience. Learning who the women were was a whole lot of fun."

    About books by Sharon L Reddy, reviewers said:

    recluse:
    "The author is a fine wordsmith who possesses a marvelous imagination."

    Raven's Reviews:
    "...unique, fast-paced style ...allows one to read almost as fast as one can think."
    "...romantic brain-candy... If you like almost any kind of men at all, you'll like hers..."

    Mistress of the Dark Path:
    "...you will also notice your mind is stimulated."
    "...designed for a more educated and worldly crowd."

    R. Cagle:
    "I got hooked immediately."

    Marji Holt:
    "The characters came out of the books and into my dreams."

    Twenty-four titles. Start your collection today.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSharon L Reddy
    Release dateJun 6, 2011
    ISBN9781583385067
    War Bride
    Author

    Sharon L Reddy

    I write science fiction romance, but it's the literary definition of romance. Swashbuckle, Baby, in "white tie and tails." High romantic fantasies, million word mysteries, family sagas, statesmen, gurus and wise immortals. Loving dads, sons and brothers, and of course, the women who understand and appreciate them. High fashion and landscape design. Materials and art, the books are built to be read very fast, specifically for the way women visualize. Research on the soap operas of the fifties, trends in international populist (fan) fiction, technological development, and above all, long-term entertainment value. It has to be good in reruns. The intent is create a body of work that's just fun to read, in spurts or bursts over decades. Ethics, responsibility, nobless oblige, the power of money, the use of prestige. I write good guys win. Period. They're fantasies for women. Men with lots of muscle say, "I love you," a lot.Most of what is currently published was written in the first decade, 1991-1999, before Mother Nature changed my personal definition of "mature audience." I hope you'll remain with me as I and my work mature and enjoy the second decade of my work now being published, as well.I've lived many places and visited far more. My current residence is on a high mesa in New Mexico, in the United States, where I am engaged in a habitat restoration project.Explanation of the Pilots Group:Some of these works have been sitting on my hard drive close to twenty years and they're no fun for anyone just sitting there. They're exactly what they've been titled, pilots, like for a TV series. It is my intent and hope that other writers will choose to continue the adventures of the characters. There are only three restrictions. Don't kill off my heroes, don't make good guys bad guys and give my story credit if you publish. Yes, you may publish and make money on your stories. I loved reading and writing fan fiction, but the limitations on it could be frustrating, so... Have fun with these works that specifically don't have them.

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      Book preview

      War Bride - Sharon L Reddy

      Sharon L Reddy

      Warbride

      ©2011

      Target Yonder

      Smashwords Edition

      ISBN 978-1-58338-506-7

      Cover background NASA, ESA STScI

      And the Hubble Anniversary Team

      Chapter One

      He awoke. It was a shock. He hurt too much to be dead. He nearly resented it. He should be dead. He'd felt the shot that killed him. Everyone else was dead. His father, brother, cousins, friends, all dead and he was alive. After that, the realization he was looking at a chain around his wrist and arm wasn't even surprising. He lifted his head slightly and looked down at himself. He didn't know what the thing, machine, was that was across his middle, but it was obviously why he was alive.

      He laid back and worked to be glad he was. He couldn't quite manage it, but he did manage curiosity. Where was he? As much as he could see of the room was a featureless cube of off-white, with only whatever he was laying on, himself and the machine in it, and chains.

      Chains around his wrists. Not restraints, chains. Why chains? They were old things, used for decorative purposes, but not these. They were shiny new and looked like steel. He smiled slightly. He'd decided he wanted to be alive after all. He wanted to learn why chains.

      The second time he woke, he was in a featureless off-white box. He was standing in it. He tried to figure out why he could see it was a box, but he couldn't. He was still chained, but he couldn't see to what. He tried to move his feet and realized they were chained too. His mind suddenly supplied glow panels and stasis field, but he struggled a bit to accept it. It just didn't seem to go with chains. This time he felt himself falling asleep and attached it to the faint smell of flowers in the air.

      He woke in the box several more times. He was never hungry or thirsty, never tired or weak. Never anything really, and never awake more than a few minutes at most. His only realization in those many times was something had to be happening when he wasn't awake. He seemed to be becoming more muscular, so it wasn't just being given nourishment and time must be passing.

      He had given up trying to count how many times he'd awakened for a very short time when he awoke in a room again. He thought it was many, but that many had not even an approximate number attached. He'd decided the drug in the fragrance of flowers was not one that made one unconscious, but made one forget what had happened while under its influence. He couldn't even make a guess at how much time had passed, not whether days, seasons or even years.

      The room wasn't featureless this time and it was larger, painted a rather pretty blue with deeper blue drapes over what he assumed was a large window in the wall in front of him. It was carpeted in a slightly green blue. It was a lovely, large room, but held no furniture. He was on his feet again and could feel he was chained to something. He turned his head and was shocked. The heavy duralloy posts to which he was chained didn't go with the room at all. The drapes began to open just as he smelled flowers faintly in the air. He almost had time to be angry he wasn't going to see what was beyond them.

      When he awoke again, his first thought was he should have worn a jacket. That surprised him into opening his eyes before he identified the smell of the air as 'outdoors.' His shock at what he saw must have been obvious to the people standing around the platform or riser on which he was standing. Some of them laughed. When he noticed they were talking and he couldn't understand them, he began to realize how far he'd been taken from the battlefield where he had fallen. Then he realized he was still chained and on display and tried to come up with a reason why. A woman came from behind him, broke a capsule beneath his nose and the smell of flowers overwhelmed him just as he began to try to work to understand the accent so thick it sounded like another language.

      Wake!

      He opened his eyes fast and winced at the light. He blinked against it and identified it as sunlight shining on him through a window. When his eyes began to adjust, he saw the 'shadow' in front of him was a woman. He identified her as late middle-age and slightly plump before he noticed her clothing style was very different than that with which he was familiar. He realized he was still chained when he tried to rub his eyes to clear them of tears.

      You see?

      Yes, but I don't understand.

      I trader. I some hear long far word. No one this hear. You hear talk this. Soon. Paid you for one. This no fool one. I say her paid you for. Good be you her for.

      Wait!

      Done work good. You here. Go now me.

      He was suddenly alone in what he could see was a very elegant room, even if somewhat unfamiliar in decor and appointment. The 'flavor' said far from home, but the richness of the unusually patterned fabrics on the furniture and in the drapes whispered wealth, and he was chained. This time to a wall, not posts. The rings to which the chains were attached looked new-set in it and very out of place. It was the first time he'd been awake more than a moment or two and memory, pain and grief washed through him.

      The Hostmir had bought the aid of Jacine mercenary troops. They'd promised them the lands of his people. He didn't have to see the contract to know it. The Jacine were desperate for a homeland and had underestimated the Hostmir. He'd have known they had no intentions of fulfilling the contract, even if he hadn't seen them open fire on those they'd employed before he was hit. They didn't want any neighbors. His people were dead. He'd seen most of his family killed over a four-year period.

      He realized he was smiling and doubted it was pleasant. The Hostmir had tried to cheat the Jacine. He was quite sure they hadn't outlived his people long. If they'd succeeded in destroying them, it was even more sure they had been destroyed. The Hostmir had a blind spot. They didn't see the other six ship-dwelling mercenary cultures would not allow that precedent to be set. The Hostmir were sure mercenaries were mercenaries. They only fought if 'promised' payment. He wondered who now held the rich world of his birth, or if it still existed. It wouldn't be the first lifeless world that no longer lived because too many had coveted it.

      Helada Jerome watched the young male chained in her parlor on the screen in her study. His sudden collapse to hang from his chains and the deep racking sobs and tears surprised her. She made up her mind about him in that moment, stood, picked up the key, walked into the room and unlocked his chains from the rings in the wall. He stared at her and she smiled.

      I know you can't understand me. I could barely understand the person who sold you to me and she said you were from a great deal farther down-arm. She bought you from someone else. She estimated you'd been sold more than a dozen times and no one seller ever told buyer where you should be taken, but your route here was very direct. The documents I was given say you're salvage picked up on a battlefield. It's your legal definition. If you were a person, you'd own a world. The scavengers, Scavs, decided to keep you alive anyway. I bought you because we need your genes and I think I can protect you. Time to find out. Comm connect Judge Miramba Dunn, private code.

      Miramba.

      Miri, this is Helada. I just bought the most dangerous single item ever to hit this planet. I bought a bit of salvage collected after the final battle of a war in Gypsy sector. Its name is Cavin Romany. Oh, and I thought I had his attention when I was taking off the chains.

      Stutter, stutter, the who what?

      He wasn't dead and the Scavs decided if they could define him as salvage and sell him up-arm far enough...

      It would be more profitable than killing him.

      No, they decided they could keep his incredible genetic heritage in the human gene pool if they got him far enough away, and watching a beautiful young man die of a wound they could heal would have haunted them.

      I've evidently been listening to slander about a people without knowing it.

      So had I. Salvage was their way of protecting him and the chains were a warning to him and buyers to be cautious. It worked. No one bought him as a slave. Computer, add visual of this room.

      Oh, my. Helada, that young man could start a war with a smile, even with clothes on.

      The only thing ordinary about him is light brown hair and blue eyes and they're not ordinary on him. We need him, Miri. I think we need him married.

      To whom?

      As many as we can select fast.

      Would you... expound on that a bit please?

      The Romany family have strict vows of fidelity and they long ago learned not to allow collection. The contents of a repository were worth the risks of a raid on their world by a large 'pirate' fleet. I'd give you odds this beautiful young man is a virgin and the only way to get his semen outside the marriage bed would be rape. He's been in the automated livestock handling sections of ship holds for nearly two years, all very, very carefully documented not to have semen collection facilities.

      I need to know more about the Romany family.

      The story is there was a family of explorers who just found planets perfect for human life wherever they went, but after awhile, the only place they wanted to go was home. Home turned them away. They were needed exploring. They found worlds.

      The legend of the birth of the Gypsy clans.

      Ship-dwelling migrant workers in a sector of space where real power is measured in the arable land which supports them. The true history of the sector isn't nearly as romantic and a great deal more bloody. He is a direct descendent of that exploring family that took the name Romany, though, and they've picked up some other very interesting traits over the last three millennia.

      Like what?

      I think he's beginning to understand a word here and there already. Miri, there have to be men too.

      Helada, it's nearly midnight here. It's been a long day. My mind isn't moving fast enough for this.

      Fidelity can't be one way. We need him too much to marry him to only as many women as he can keep happy. Give some of our young men, who had to accept they shouldn't father children because of where their parents were on one specific day, the children of one who must have scores or none. He's here so all his incredibly healthy heritage doesn't die with him. His people didn't suffer from birth defects, Miri. A fetus with an unhealthy recessive doesn't develop either.

      All right. Who do you have in mind?

      Every unmarried masters and doctoral candidate of Gerun Research Institute, Berrins Technical University, Lanford College of Medical Research and Tahsmani Institute for the Advanced Study of Fine Arts.

      Helada, that's hundreds of people.

      That would be nice, but it won't be that many. They have to think it over. They have to decide both if they're healthy enough and if they can abide by the vows. I've a suspicion, if it's not really a marriage in his eyes, there won't be any children.

      I see. You're sure we want his genes?

      The only notice his family would have taken of the breached core of that ship drive would have been as a bright falling object and a weather statistic.

      I have a suspicion Chancellor Juserad is going to say he'll call me back when he's sure he's not having an odd dream. It's three hours after midnight there and telling him the former president... I'm not sure exactly what I am going to tell him. However, I am sure he won't be sure he's not dreaming it. Helada, you didn't do it.

      I don't feel guilty because it happened while I was in office, Miri. A lot of people worked to get him a very long way to help us. If they'd just sent him, someone would have taken note of exactly why. I paid a large chunk of a major fortune for him and I doubt any person in this unspoken conspiracy made any money anywhere along his journey. If I didn't do my best to... use the gift of his life for our world, I would feel very guilty.

      You marry him too, Helada.

      What?!

      It's your reputation and your money that's protecting him right now. It's what kept him alive from the start. Everyone knew who to bring him to. One after the other, they sold him up-arm. Each paying what the investment was so far because you were at the end of the journey. You're famous in a way few ever become. There might be a few people in human space who don't recognize your face, even if most can't put a name to it. You were our elegant, calm voice warning every world of danger. The disaster that couldn't happen did. A passenger liner had a core breach. It all worked perfectly. Not one passenger was more than inconvenienced.

      Then the expelled core blew apart and a piece of it was caught in the gravity well of Caerdonna. Move your docking stations farther out. Give yourself time to stop any pieces. We didn't have it. Yes, I'll marry him. Now find us as many others for the family as you can. Out. I know you've begun to figure out the drift pattern of the language, Cavin. Want to try? Ready to talk?

      Cavin you...

      Eyes? See. Head? See think. Know or understand. Sorry, Cavin. I'm in a bit over my head. The gestures were obvious. I'm just not... I bought you.

      Bought. Paid.

      Don't sound so disgusted. You were a very expensive bride. Let's see, how would you say very high bride price? Breeyod priss.

      Huh?!

      Helada burst into laughter, tossed the key to the chains on the floor by his feet and left him to finish the 'unwrapping.' He'd find her eventually.

      She called Janders and asked him to leave an invitation to borrow some clothes in the form of open doors, drawers and closet and find something to do on the other side of the house. She told him language lessons would be much easier to give if she wasn't breathing heavily. He was roaring with laughter when she signed off.

      The 'help' would definitely help. Everyone on the estate would be giggling in moments. They were the best to teach and protect the treasure sent to their world.

      Helada put on her gardening gloves. He'd find her in the yard after he found the unlocked doors and saw the smiling people. She doubted they'd see him until he wanted them to. She started giggling before she got out the door. She was ninety-six and finally going to get married. Her mother was going to think it was hilarious. Her great-grandchildren would think it was complete squabsy. They made sure she was in deep toes with the current vernacular.

      He shivered when he got the chains all off. He'd been wrapped in them, around his ankles and wrists several turns. He noticed they pulled the hair on his ankles and forearms when he took them off. He couldn't have worn them much, but they'd been there every time he awakened. They'd been a message he was dangerous and he'd been the one for whom it was intended.

      He worked on what the tall, slender, familiar-looking, late middle-age woman, with silver hair, had said a bit more. He was sure she'd meant bride price, but being sure she'd meant what she said wasn't really helping a great deal. The open door was an invitation to learn more, but he intended to do it very cautiously.

      He'd had a great deal of practice being invisible. He'd been an assassin since he was twelve. Only he and his father had known who had killed the traitors who'd sold ancient family lands to the Hostmir and given them a place to land, claim to their world and destroyed their people for profit. None of them had gotten to enjoy it. Only he and his father had known the Hostmir hadn't done it. It had kept anyone else from aiding them for four years. The Hostmir would have waited a bit longer to kill them.

      He was surprised when he saw himself in a mirror. He'd grown quite a bit. More time than he'd realized had passed. He decided he was close to two meters and definitely over eighteen. He found clothes in a pleasant man's room, obviously left open for him to find and obviously just to borrow. They didn't really fit, but they would cover him. The message was very clear. He hadn't been expected, but he was welcome. The woman had paid his bride price?

      Helada smiled when big, young hands were suddenly patting a young plant into place in the hole she'd just finished. She'd been right. No one had seen him until he wanted them to. She turned and smiled at him. His smile came very slowly, but it was definitely worth the wait.

      Fayar. Toon beeyager nayah yers.

      Yes, very far. I think you said you're so much bigger you're sure it was years. You're quite right, but I don't know exactly how many. It would be simple to find out, but I don't think it's really important, other than I was assured you were adult by our laws. I'm sorry, Cavin, but you can't carry your name here.

      Veerdana leeav.

      Oh, dear. Verdana... Plant? Oh! Yes, Verdana lives. It wasn't destroyed. Noo... dee.

      She steadied him when he swayed and understood how much he'd feared his world had been destroyed in the war for its rich and verdant land. When he learned to understand the accent, she'd tell him how fast the Gypsy ship clans had moved to settle it before the big agra combines could move in and clear its beautiful forests and prairies for profitable robo-farming. They were still trying to get it with lawsuits in the newly-formed sector court, but every mercenary force they might have hired to take it had settled a piece of it. People would still train for war on it and in the space around it, but the scars of war would slowly heal and there would be no more.

      Scaeva coom deein filed feena ma?

      That one lost me. Or did it? I think you asked me if the Scavs found you on the dying field.

      Yes, Scavs fown?

      Exactly.

      Scavs hiyad gud wok dune so gud wok neyah sin ween neetein. Gud hiyad lung yers. Scavs teel jes proovit all wan.

      "The object is for me to help you understand our accent, not work on my ability to understand yours. Although, you may be doing a great deal more work on it than I realize or I wouldn't be understanding as much as I do. So they spread the stories they have no motive

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