Two characteristics of Father Adler make a deep impression but they are
qualities one cannot see, only 'feel' intuitively. in spite of his physical appearance, Father Adler's
his age is believed to be very old, perhaps measured in centuries. Most of us who
have talked with him agree on this, it is an intuitive
perception shared by many. No one dares to ask him how old he
really is but consider Father Adler's legend which does not fit someone in the peak of physical condition who at first glance is no older than fifty five years of age. Father Adler’s temper is legendary as is his
skill with a carbonium long knife. Several murders in bar fights
are part of his story, although such events are hardly uncommon
in the lawless, frontier, mining towns of the Resource Planets
in the twelfth quadrant.
The
other characteristic of Father Adler that one senses intuitively
is his wounded soul. Great sadness, melancholy and torment radiate
outward from his being. It is strange to recognize that such feelings
dominate a man whose reputation for feats of great courage, physical
stamina and violence is well attested. Nonetheless there it is,
the strength of that impression is unmistakable. This terrifying, awesome legend
appears to be tormented by great sadness, pain and unknown
demons.
Speculation in the bars, dives and brothels of the twelfth quadrant
never ceases. Who is Father Adler? If the legend is true, he appeared
one day several centuries ago in the mining town of Belit-Sheri
on Prisca looking for work as a rhubidium chopper, a dangerous,
suicidal occupation if there ever was one. If those stories are
true, Father Adler looked exactly as he does today. If those tales
are true, he is as old as a Dacian. Yet he travels between the
stars as we all do. In any case, who has ever heard of a male
Dacian?
What could torment this man of awesome physical and intellectual
powers? He seems to carry no guilt over those he has killed. He
is treated with great respect and deference by all. Women are
hardly a problem. All ages, races and varieties flock to his side
and many share his bed. Most seem to actually like him. What torments
him, then? An unspeakable, unmentionable, foul crime? A lost love?
Had Father Adler, once upon a time, loved deeply, committedly and
then lost the object of such passions? The very idea seems preposterous!
The bar where Father Adler was drinking and daydreaming this prescient day was the
Bragi in the mining town of Celine on the resource planet Vasa.
The Bragi was legendary both for the potency of its drinks and
the quality of its fights. The walls were paneled in factory
reject rhubidium as befitted the best watering hole in the richest
mining town in the galaxy. The floors, tables and bar top were
highly polished cratagus wood.
The
bartender was an old friend of Father Adler’s, a Tygor by
the name of Sam XI. Seven feet tall with flowing black hair, green
skin and both nose and gills, Sam presented a terrifying appearance.
However within the usual realm of daily life, Sam was the gentlest
of souls. He has been happily married to the same woman for forty
years and was the father of three very tall, gorgeous
daughters.
The
bar girls of the Bragi were also in a class by themselves. Their
beauty was unsurpassed and the pleasures they offered were hardly
confined to the drinks they served. On this particular Saturday
evening, the Bragi was in its usual state of alcoholic and sexual
bedlam. Father Adler sat in the middle of it all, oblivious to
the maelstrom swirling around him. It was stifling hot this late
summer night and the ceiling fans provided little relief.
Around 10 P.M., the doors to the Bragi burst open and a blast
of steaming hot air blew across the saloon. In strode Oriana,
the Dacian companion of the fabled oracular unicorn of Kushanah.
She was clad tightly in gold, but it was a dull gold that neither
gleamed nor shone. Shirt, pants and boots had neither sheen nor
sparkle. Her golden hair fell to her waist in straight lines and
shone in the semi-gloom of the Bragi. Her purple eyes caught and
reflected what little light was available. The darkness hid her
disfigured face and the scars that criss-crossed across her right
eye and down her throat.
Everyone, bar maids, hookers, waiters, miners, off duty military
personnel and assorted nameless riff-raff fell silent and stared.
All had heard of Oriana for she was a living, immortal myth. They
knew every detail of her appearance but only two had every seen
her in the flesh; Sam and Father Adler. Sam studiously wiped the
spotlessly clear bar top and refused to look up at the Dacian as
she strode in. Father Adler, sipping his drink with his back to the
door noticed her entrance in the mirror behind the bar, but did
not turn around.
Oriana
strode up to Father Adler, stopped a few feet from his back, and
spoke softly with great warmth. “Jared, great evil is loose
in the galaxy. We need you, once again.”
No answer, no movement.
“Jared,
we need you. All sentient beings need you. Come.”
Father Adler took another sip of his beer but still did not turn
around.
“Jared,
please! Think of others, your own concerns are nothing now. They
need you!”
Jared Colfax/Father Adler swivelled slowly on his bar stool and
faced the Dacian, an incredible expression upon his face of hate
and love, anguish and torment. The Bragi was so quiet you could
have heard a Varangian fly cough.
“Get
lost, Oriana”, hissed Jared.
“Jared,
please. I ... I need you.” Oriana’s voice could barely
be heard. She attempted to lay her right hand on Jared’s
but he quickly withdrew his arm.
“Another
beer, Sam.”
The Tygor was now staring at the Dacian directly, hard and without
fear. He refilled Jared’s mug.
“Jared,
I love you.” A tear flowed from Oriana’s disfigured
eye down her cheek. “I love you.’
“You
bitch!” Jared nearly bellowed. “You love me, do you?
If that isn't the most perverse joke in the quadrant!”
“Jared,
I do. I ...”
“Oh,
shut up! I've taken a lot from you over the centuries , but this
tops it all. You love me! I'm kinder to those I kill than you've
been to me. Do you call your response to me on Kushanah, love?”
Jared was standing now, his nose an inch from Oriana's
face. Tears streamed down her face. Sam stared at the two of them
in his odd, intense, detached way. Everyone else in the Bragi
was transfixed. Was the mystery of Father Adler about to be unraveled
and revealed?
“You
don't love anyone but yourself and that damned unicorn! You use
people like pawns, like furniture and to what ends the gods only
know. You use them icily and then fling them away like flies or
match sticks. You my dear, are the ultimate power hungry, vicious
manipulator of souls. Beautiful beyond words, sensual and erotic
beyond any man's wildest fantasies, brilliant and immortal - all
of that is you, my Dacian. Love me? How could you? I'm a killer,
a tormented assassin, a god with fear eating his soul. You and
I are Guardians. So be it. Somehow, I don’t really carry
it off with aplomb anymore. For centuries, I couldn’t care
less.”
Jared reached for his carbonium knife and put it to Oriana's throat.
The crowd gasped.
“Jared,
don't!” hissed Sam.
“Stay
out of this, old friend,” said Jared softly.
Oriana closed her eyes. “Kill me then, Jared,” she
whispered. “Kill me if you can.”
Jared
put the point of his knife on her Adam’s apple and pushed
slightly. A trickle of the Dacian’s purple blood ran down
her throat. No one dared move or speak.
The knife clattered to the floor as Jared slumped back on the
bar stool. He covered his face with his hands and cried softly.
Oriana moved to him and put her arms around his waist and buried
her face against his shoulder.
“My
dearest love, my only love, I do still love you. Yes, I have done
horrible things to you, treated your love at times with coldness
and contempt, wanting to break you or drive you insane. I have
done all those things and truly deserve your complete hate, even
death if that were possible.”
“But I do love you and the nature of my love is true and
real. The quality and torment of my love is partially your fault,
my dear, and you know it. You taught me what it is to love, what
such feelings and emotions are. No Dacian has every loved, has
ever felt love, and you know that. It is believed we are incapable
of such emotions. They are held to be literally genetically beyond
our grasp and potential. Can you ever imagine the fear you instilled
my heart? I hated you for that. I’ll probably hate you again
for it, you know."
Oriana’s voice was barely audible and she still wept slowly.
Jared now hugged her and rocked her gently as one would a child,
his eyes closed. Oriana sniffled and wiped her nose on Jared's
sleeve.
“You see my love, you showed me how to be love, but you
also gave me the gift of fear. Can you ever understand what it
is like to know fear and be immortal? You are old, but not nearly
as ancient as I.”
“No,
I cannot do that,” sighed Jared. “No one could. It
seems I also gave you the gift of loneliness.”
Oriana
sniffled into his shirt again. “It were best we had never
met. I wish I was dead for what I've done to you.”
“Now,
none of that! I wouldn’t trade my love for you for anything
in the universe. I absolutely would not. But, er... could we try
for a little less pain and abuse over the next century perhaps?”
“I
love you," said Oriana softly and she kissed Jared over and
over and over again with such gentle passion that his head spun
and there was not a dry eye anywhere in the Bragi.
An eternal minute of silence and grace filled the room.
Sam blew his nose loudly in an enormous handkerchief.
“Jared,
you haven’t said that you would come!” Oriana stepped
back from him, hands on her hips and a mischievous grin on her
face.
“Of
course, I’ll come. I swore an oath when I became a Guardian.”
For the first time that any of the regulars in the Bragi could
remember, Father Adler/Jared Colfax smiled. He extended his arms
to the Dacian. She ducked under them and began to toy with the
buttons on his shirt. She kissed him lightly, then turned around
to face the awestruck, staring crowd and did a most un-Dacian
thing. Oriana pressed her palms together and bowed slightly towards
those facing her.
“Thank
you. Thank you for bearing witness. Thank you for being patient
with two over-age children.”
Jared was so surprised at hearing this that a fly flew in his
open mouth and made him cough. Every man, woman and child in the
Bragi would now have followed Oriana into the pits of Hell itself.
Little did they know, that in the coming years some of them would
do just that.
“And
you, old friend?” Oriana now turned towards the Tygor. “Can
we get you away from that lovely wife and three beautiful daughters?
We should be in for one hell of a fight!” Oriana flashed
her most captivating smile at Sam and he grinned back.
“Orry,
I've been a true blue family man for any years. It has been good
and warm, if a bit dull. Amanda will understand.”
“Jared
bent over to retrieve his carbonium knife. He looked hard at Sam.
“Be
at Orvar Spaceport one week from today with the usual equipment.”
“I'll
be there.”
Oriana took Jared’s hand and walked slowly towards the door,
a broad grin upon her beautiful, yet devastated, face. Jared glanced
around at the Bragi as if taking it all in for the last time and
winked at a few friends in the crowd. Sam smiled paternally. When
they reached the door, someone in the back yelled out “Good
luck, you bastard!” and everyone laughed.
BB 02.10.94; Freeport, Bahamas
