The Green Gods (French Science Fiction Book 24) by Henneberg Nathalie

Author:Henneberg, Nathalie [Henneberg, Nathalie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: science fiction
Publisher: Black Coat Press
Published: 2011-11-18T16:00:00+00:00

Atlena wakened in the middle of the night, shaken, ice cold. Someone had called her and she had come to his aid. Aran, surely, but the rest was nightmare. She did not know if her aid had been enough. Nor if he was still alive. The danger must have been terrible, if Aran… She sat up in her bed. The night was strangely calm. The very park seemed asleep. The moonlight wandered over the lawn and in the center of it rested a strange object, a flat disc, rimmed with slightly convex light which recalled the ancient prophecies which the people sang in the streets:

“And I looked, and behold there were four wheels beside the cherubim, one beside each cherub; and the appearance of the wheels was like sparkling chrysolite. And as for their appearance, the four had the same likeness, as if a wheel were within a wheel… And their rims, and their spokes, and the wheels were full of eyes round about—”

The man or the cherub who stood armed before the strange machine felt a Sending fixed on him, a human thought of a rare quality, and fascinated as he was by the opal façade of the palace, he turned.

It was Victor Novy. The terrible and mysterious end of Roger Kairn, whose records and bloodless body had arrived at Deimos, had drawn him to this venture. He had made a pact with the lad, mutual defense. Kairn was dead. He felt obliged to go on.

Kairn’s films had caused a riot in the council. If such mutations were possible, the whole human race was threatened. Novy spoke and gained an amended decision. One more attempt at verification, then the mass movement would begin against an Earth fallen victim to monsters and degenerate humans.

He had volunteered for the attempt. He had left his ship in a force field, loaded with weaponry and sensors, and rather nervous. After Kairn’s photos, he expected to meet he-knew-not-what: a giant beetle, a man-eating cactus, a human being transformed into a locust. And suddenly he found himself face-to-face with a young woman of the likeness of a lily.

Worse, she came down the terrace steps and ran straight toward him. Disconcerting enough that this was a terrace, a vast garden, a lovely and noble Terran house—such as the colonists of distant worlds tried vainly to imitate—

—and the night was a gentle earthly night, blue, with normal shadows on white gravel, a solar clock which indicated plainly fourteen minutes till midnight, and a crazy owl which was drinking in the moonlight from the canal at Atlena’s feet.

When she stood before the stranger—and he saw her from blue-black hair to gleaming toenails, the likeness of a perfect Terran, which the brilliant, hard, and cultured beings of other worlds had ceased to be, she addressed him politely in a short-range Sending, in perfect Galactic.

“I thought,” she said, “that you’d come from Aran’s side. I’m sorry.”

She damped that thought neatly.

Fascinated, Novy explained with eloquence. “I come from another world, beyond the stars.

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