There was another attempt to steal the lamp that night. It was three local boys.
The next day Helen said, “I simply cannot live life knowing there is a thief around every corner. This time it was just boys. What if one of them had been hurt? We must do something.”
Lord Beecham said, “I thought about hanging it in front of your inn.”
Helen brightened. “That is an idea. My inn is King Edward’s Lamp. It would be only fitting to have a lamp hanging out over the front door. Ah, if only everyone didn’t know we have the lamp. It’s too late now to do that, but it is a wonderful notion.”
“Then, there’s just no other choice, Helen.” They looked at the lamp, but the thing just sat there, doing nothing. No pulses of warmth, no soft yellowish light. Had it all been a dream?
How could this dented old lamp have been the basis for Aladdin’s tale?
And so they carefully wrapped the lamp in soft, warm clothes and put it into the iron cask. Spenser could not bear to hide the scroll again. It was a historic find. It was meant to be studied by scholars into the future.
They buried the iron cask in a meadow about one mile east of Shugborough Hall. They buried it very deep. They did not mark where they had buried it.
No one would ever find it.
In the years to come, they remembered the lamp only when they received letters from scholars asking to examine the leather scroll. Or when Helen chanced to visit the graveyard and pause at Mrs. Freelady’s grave.
Local people made up tales about the lamp to while away the long winter evenings. But even they, after a time, forgot that it had ever sat atop the mantel at Shugborough Hall. It passed into local lore.
Lord Prith ceased experimenting with his fine champagne, saying that the mimosa was perfection itself and he could not hope to outdo it, although he could not like the name.
And, over the years, to no one’s surprise, one of the Beecham children’s favorite stories was “Aladdin and the Magic Lamp.”
Dear Reader:
I’ve got an unexpected treat for you. Just turn the page and read an excerpt from Stardoc, the first novel in a science fiction series by Sheila Viehl. You’ll meet Cherijo, an Earth doctor, and Kao, a Jorenian, as they deal with each other and with an array of wildly fascinating otherworldly characters. This novel will keep you laughing, and the love story will make you smile.
I’m not a regular science fiction reader, but this novel transcends the genre. I was hooked from the first page.
Give it a try and let me know what you think of my recommendation.
Get ready for superb cosmic entertainment.
BEFORE I REALIZED IT, I was out the door panel and walking, so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice where my feet were taking me. That had happened a lot to me since Karas had died. Absently, I followed one of the pathways leading to the Cultural Center. A few minutes later I found myself in some type of gallery.
It was the flickering light that finally drew my complete attention. I had wandered into the Hall of Art and Expression, which was filled with works by some of the most talented paint sculptors, and light manipulators in the colony. I’d never found the time to tour it properly. It was beautiful.
I stopped before a particularly fascinating illuminated sequence of deep-space microorganisms. The tiny critters, found in asteroid belts, hosted even smaller parasites. The purity of the blues and greens intermingled with the most astonishing bursts of bioluminescent light.
“Beautiful,” a deep voice said quietly next to my ear. I yelped and nearly jumped out of my skin. Jorenian males had the pesky ability to be absolutely soundless whenever they wanted.
“Don’t do that!” I snapped. He smiled at me, and my irritation diminished a few degrees. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”
“I know,” he said. “I have been following you since you entered the gallery, and twice I have called your name.”
Had I been that lost in thought? “I thought you were going to signal me when you got off work,” I said.
“I attempted to. You were not in your quarters.” He studied my face. “You are distressed.”
“Are Jorenians capable of telepathy?” I said.
“Empathy is not uncommon among those who Choose,” Kao said. He gave me a significant look, then folded my hand in his. “Walk with me.”
We made our way down the long hall, and Kao quietly commented on the artworks we passed. I didn’t concentrate on the compositions or even what he said. It was soothing just to be with him, to hear the deep music of his voice. At last we stopped at an observation dome, where the entire night sky of K-2 sparkled above us in a glittering display of moons and stars.
Kao turned me to face him and cupped my shoulder with one large hand. “Tell me about what has happened.”
I didn’t want to talk about Maggie, or the tense moments with the Binder. Instead I found myself describing the unpleasant encounter with Harold Springfield.
“Cherijo, did he harm you?”
Something in Kao’s voice made me look up. My eyes widened. His expression was ominously still.
“Of course not.” Why was he acting like this? I knew Jorenians didn’t appreciate someone hurting their relatives, but I wasn’t part of the family. “He never laid a hand on me, Kao. Even if he had, I could have handled him.”
He ignored that. “Did he threaten you?”
Evidently I did qualify for the same ferocious protection. “No.” As much as I disliked Kyle’s father, I didn’t want to see him in a lot of small pieces all over the colony. “He didn’t do anything to me. Stop it.”
“I know this man,” Kao said, still looking every inch the warrior bent on a rampage. “He has a careless mouth.”
“He was just being Terran.” Which was becoming a universal synonym for “bigoted idiot,” I thought sadly.
The Jorenian’s tense frame relaxed. “There are many differences between our people,” he said, smoothing his palm over my cheek. “Do you regret being associated with me?”
“No.” Until that moment I hadn’t given a lot of thought to certain aspects of our relationship. Still, I wasn’t ashamed of being involved with him. “I don’t care what anyone says about us.”
“I can never be Terran, Healer.”
We belonged to two different species. So what? “I’ll never be Jorenian.” I shrugged. “Springfield is a jerk, Terra is welcome to him.”
“Tell me what is in your heart.”
I looked up into his strong, beautiful face. How could I even describe how I felt? When I was with Kao, everything else in my life seemed to fade away. I was deeply involved with a blue-skinned alien man, and I didn’t even know how that had happened. It had only recently occurred to me that it had.
There were problems, I reminded myself. “Tell me, how many times have we been together in the past two weeks?”
“Let me think,” he said, pretending not to know. Jorenians had incredible recall. “Four?”
“Five times, and you know it. Twice I had to leave you because of an emergency at the facility.”
“I do not expect you to sacrifice healing for me,” he reassured me. “As I recall, once I had to leave your company because of an unexpected change in the flight schedule.”
“There will be more emergencies,” I said.
“We both of us have occupations that demand much of our time.”
His open, confident manner had me blurting out, “You want more than just my time, Kao Torin.”
One blue finger traced the line between my brows. “Yes. I do.”
“Okay.” I took a gulp of air. “So do I.”
“Are you certain?”
“Not exactly.” His keen eyes made me grimace. “What if we can’t fulfill—if I can’t—” I made a frustrated gesture. “I don’t know what the term is in your culture. In mine, it is ‘relationship.’ What if we can’t make this work? What if my job demands more of my time than you’d like? What if—”
“Wha
t if seems to preface most of your worries,” Kao broke in calmly. “I can present similar concerns. What if I am permanently consigned to an intersector flight run? What if I am injured in a shuttle crash? What if I am exposed to HydroTyrannial Radiation and turn a disagreeable shade of yellow-green?”
I made a disgusted sound and turned away to stare at the jewel-rich darkness above me.
“Forgive me.” Kao gently pulled me back against his large frame. Even in my aggravation, my body responded to the proximity of his. He was big, warm, and alive. His palms began a gentle stroking motion over my shoulders. It gave me a sense of being sheltered, cherished.
It also made sweat bead along my hairline.
“On my world, there is a philosophy we learn as children: The path may change swiftly. Live in the now.” Kao’s hand moved down the untidy cable of my braid. “There are no guarantees in existence, Cherijo. Not even if you had Chosen—if you had a relationship with another Terran.”
Another Terran. Who? Someone like Duncan Reever? Now there was a distinct impossibility. “So we take a chance on the future?”
“We take the now. Tomorrow—that will come.”
“I know how serious it is for a Jorenian to Choose,” I told him. “It means forever.”
His hands stilled. “You have been educating yourself on my culture.”
“Your HouseClans were founded on the ritual of Choice.” I turned to face him, feeling panicky now. “If you Choose me, you’re stuck with me, for life. That’s a long time, Kao. Then there’s the other minor problem with getting bonded. Like packing up everything and moving to Joren.”
“We are not bonded,” Kao reminded me.
I yanked my braid out of his grasp. “You’re thinking about Choosing me.” I threw down the statement like a dare.
“Yes.”
“If you do that, you can’t change your mind. You’ll have to bond with me.”
“Of course,” Kao agreed. “Someday.”
“Someday?” I squeaked. That wasn’t in the data I’d read about my boyfriend’s culture. There was a definite, short time frame involved in the progression from Choosing to bonding on Joren.
“Cherijo, I respect HouseClan traditions. Indeed, I hold them close to my heart. Yet I have journeyed through the stars for many revolutions. Were you a Jorenian female”—Kao made a small gesture I’d learned meant mild exasperation—“my ClanParents would be constructing a ceremonial chamber and sending a bond proclamation to every Torin within signal range.”
“But I’m not a Jorenian female,” I said slowly. “Does that mean your parents will hate me?”
Kao chuckled. “No, my heart. The fact that you are Terran will not alter their happiness for us.”
“Then I don’t see what difference it makes.”
“Terran culture has its share of customs regarding these matters. Do you think I would demand that you follow the practices of my world and ignore your own?”
I was slow, but finally it dawned on me. “You mean, if you Choose me, you don’t expect me to bond with you right away?”
“Not unless you are willing, and the time is correct for you.” Kao released a sigh at my obvious disbelief. “Cherijo, how could you think me so uncompromising?”
I still wasn’t entirely convinced. “You’re sure you’d be willing to wait?”
“Yes,” Kao insisted. “I could not honor you without honoring your beliefs, your work. Even when at times it seems there are a thousand and one demands upon you.”
Two thousand and one, I thought. “That won’t change.”
“It is part of what you are. A strong, dedicated, compassionate healer.” Kao pressed his lips upon my forehead and his arms came up around me. God, it felt wonderful when he held me like that. “Believe in what I say.”
“I’m sorry. I do.” I nuzzled the lower vault of his chest. “I want to be with you, Kao.”
“I want to be a part of you, Cherijo. I want to wake with you upon each star rising, I want to sleep with you, like this. I will wait for all those things. For both of us.” His eyes gleamed. “I would wait an eternity for you.”
“I don’t think it will take that long,” I said as I cuddled against him. “As long as Dr. Mayer doesn’t personally plan my schedule for the next thirty years, that is.”
“There is another matter I would discuss with you,” Kao said as he worked my hair loose from the long braid and spread it free. His fingers were magic. He breathed in the fragrance of the cleanser I used, and a deep sound rumbled under my cheek. “Terrans do not require a bonding ceremony to know one another intimately. Do they?”
“Oh.” I tried not to sound like an idiot. I failed. “Terrans generally—I mean, it’s accepted that—” I cringed. I was babbling. I never babble. “Uh—no. Why?”
“In this matter, Cherijo,” he said as he lifted my chin, “I do not wish to wait an eternity.”
Kao kissed me. How can I describe it? It was stimulating, exciting . . . No. It demolished me. I stopped breathing, stopped thinking, and just held on.
I never knew kissing could be such a fierce, prolonged, arousing activity. It was sort of like being caught in a cardiac stimulator set on continuous biofeed. My nerves sizzled as his mouth and tongue moved over mine. He tasted exotic, dark, and delicious.
When he lifted his head and our lips parted, I was much more experienced on the subject. I was also breathless, clutching him with tight, numb hands, my limbs trembling, my blood roaring through my veins.
“Okay,” I managed to gasp out. “How about now?”
“Not yet. You are not ready.” My pained expression made him chuckle. “Soon, I promise. When we are both decided.”
I started to ask him exactly what I was supposed to decide, but a group of students chose that moment to enter the observation dome, and we were forced to leave. Kao escorted me to my living quarters, where he embraced me once more.
If women back on Terra ever learned how well Jorenian males kiss, the Genetic Exclusivity Act, along with the World Government, will be overthrown in a week. I would have drawn him into my rooms, but he stepped back.
“Soon,” he said again, before making that elegant farewell gesture and turning away. The way he looked back at me over his shoulder made me swallow, hard. “Think of me.”
The way my nerves were humming, I didn’t have much choice.
Catherine Coulter, The Courtship
(Series: Sherbrooke Brides # 5)
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