MYTHOPOETICS

ASTREUS and ORIANA

JARED COLFAX TALKS With ORIANA

Once upon a time on a planet far, far away that was warmed by the light from a medium sized red dwarf sun and a tiny white dwarf star as well, there lived a unicorn. She was all white, of course, even her horn was white. Her only color was soft, golden, brown eyes that had flecks of amber within. She was about the size of the average pony, but understand that unicorns are no more related to horses than the Giant Pandas of old Earth were related to bears. One glance at their exquisite and strangely feline proportions and anyone with any perception would realize that here is a creature unique among all the denizens of the galaxy. . The unicorn of which I speak was not the only one in the Milky Way, but was, possibly, the most famous. Alone on Kushanah, Astreus had no company from any of her family. But then, who has ever heard of more than one unicorn on a single planet? She spent most of her time in an enormous meadow of white and yellow flowers through which ran a small, bubbling brook. In this tiny stream lived Torgoches, Triglas, Barramudas, Rainbirds, Bobas and Kukus. Butterbirds sang in the giant Bread Trees of the Gyges Forest that ringed the meadow. The Gyges Forest dominated the temperate latitudes of the giant northern continent on Kushanah and was but a day’s ride from Akabah and the planet’s only spaceport. Astreus was a seer and prophetess renowned for the purity and clarity of her vision. Such was her reputation that the famous, infamous, galaxy renowned and totally unknown all journeyed across the Milky Way to Kushanah. Upon arrival in the capital city Akabah which was the only spaceport, application was made to the government office that controlled access to Astreus. She saw only one visitor at a time. When the number of visitors waiting to be received reached nine, all applications were turned away until an empty place became available. No questions were ever asked of supplicants, merely a name - be it false or true - and an address within the city where the government could contact you when your day with the oracle was imminent. Considering that Astreus chose not to see visitors everyday, indeed has been known to refuse the queries of applicants for a month or more, it was best to allow for several weeks on Kushanah. Akabah was a small city but it offered an exquisite array of delights for the occasional visitor. This banquet of temptations was all out of realistic proportion to the small number of potential customers. Gambling of every imaginable variety was available. Games drawn from the far reaches of the galaxy included shogi played for rubidium ingots. The most delectable courtesans the Hominid Federation had to offer were at your beck and call. Non primate women too, if that was your taste. All were available singly or in groups, if one could afford the price. Sex could be cool, warm, hot, boiling, soft or violent with women, men and animals of every description. Food and drink also abounded to suit any palate. This cornucopia of pleasure was available every hour of the ten earth day week. How did the government agency communicate with Astreus? She would never come into town. Nor did the agency people go to her. I doubt she would have even recognized their existence, if they had. Astreus had a companion, a 'familiar' if you will. Oriana was about twenty or twenty five human years old if judged on external appearances, but she had been with Astreus for as long as the Records existed and was therefore at least five centuries old. A bit over five tall, deeply tanned and exquisitely proportioned with long slim legs and high, rounded breasts, Oriana was an indescribably beautiful woman in spite of her badly scared and disfigured face. Two livid white scars ran down her neck and over her right shoulder to disappear under blouse, perhaps to continue the length of her body. Oriana was thought be very beautiful, very sensuous and very terrifying. Oh yes, I almost forgot; she was also blind. All Dacians are blind, judging from the handful, perhaps six known to record history. Why so few? No one has ever located Dacia; their home planet remains a closed mystery. Oriana had not been with Astreus continuously for five centuries. Several periods of long absence from Kushanah were on record, but where she went and what she did, no one knows. Dacians hardly need spaceships to travel between the stars, as I知 sure you know. Once a month, Oriana rode her black stallion into Akabah to confer with government functionaries, arrange for meetings with Astreus and receive food and supplies for herself and the unicorn. No money every changed hands. If the oracle was willing to see you, she did and there was no charge. If not, all the rubidium in the universe would not gain you access to the foremost sibyl of all time. Many had tried that approach, only to be hustled off planet quickly and rudely. Conversation between the Dacian and government officials was always abrupt, courteous and to the point; nothing more, nothing less. But then, how does anyone react to the most beautiful, intelligent woman in the universe who is also blind and disfigured? Did Oriana ever have relationships as we ordinary humans know them? Gossip about her relationship with Astreus by supplicants who had returned from audiences portrayed an interaction of great warmth, sensitivity and compassion. Love also, perhaps. But then, I am confusing you. Dacians are no more human than unicorns, they only look human. Like me, I only look human. One lazy, languid, late spring day when the heat was a thick suffocating, perfumed blanket and the mosquitoes and gnats were unbearable, a Gorgon Empire spaceship landed at Akabah, disgorged one passenger and quickly departed. The visitor wore the uniform of the F.H.P.’s fleet but without insignia. He was of medium height, well tanned, muscular with black hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. His age was perhaps 40 or 50, it was hard to tell. His only distinguishing feature were his eyes which were gray flecked with yellow and appeared, even on a casual glance, to be utterly without emotion or feeling as if carved out of a millennium old block of ice. Those eyes were frightening beyond words and certainly did not fit with the academic impression conveyed by the man’s general appearance. Unknown to all on Kushanah and, indeed, unknown to all but a handful of the inhabitants in the entire galaxy, for few had ever witnessed this man in the performance of his particular craft, the Chief Assassin of the Federation had arrived on Akabah on a mission whose security cover was impenetrable. In the simplest terms, Jared Colfax had raised the arts of the mercenary, intelligence agent, research scholar and assassin to the highest level and combined them all. To further complicate his life, he was brilliant beyond imagination and at this moment, sad and melancholy as well. Jared arrived in the evening and presented himself to the custom officials at the spaceport as a military research officer assigned by the Gorgons to their international relations project that was cataloging the various lifestyles, cultures and intelligences to be found throughout the Milky Way. After a perfunctory interview, he was waved through and quickly set off, suitcase in hand, for a little known one star hotel called the Hrafnsmal that was also recommended in certain circles as the best brothel in the twelfth quadrant. The Hrafnsmal was a small, three story clapboard building that was the best kept building in the river bank dock area. Jared knocked at the front door about 10 o’clock. The light drizzle that had fallen all day had momentarily stopped and thick arms of fog were rolling in from the river. No answer. Jared closed his eyes briefly and knocked a second time. The door opened with a snap and he faced a tiny, voluptuous redhead in her early twenties. She wore silver boots with tall spiked heels and black shorts that looked as if they were merely spray paint. A twenty carat ruby rested in her navel surrounded by ring of antique diamonds from the ancient, extinct Republic of South Africa on Earth. Around her neck was a thin necklace of incomparable value for it was made of 100 ringlets of pure rubidium. Beyond these accouterments, the female volcano confronting Jared wore nothing else. Here eyes were green, her thin, finely chiseled lips were extremely pale and nearly the same color as her pastel rosy cheeks. A mane of reddish, gold hair fell to her waist and nearly covered her small, upturned breasts. The nostrils in her perky, snub nose dilated when she saw Jared. A single tear formed in the corner of her left eye. “Theron, you bastard! Whatever are you doing here? Wait, don't answer. Please go away. I have only one heart and you successfully smashed that two years ago. Go away!” BB 02.10.94; Freeport, Bahamas

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