The Tabith Legend

A BEGINNING

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Rattling like a metallic house of cards, an ancient yellow painted school bus labored up the hill with its load of overheated students. Students baked by the late afternoon sun as it beat at their transportation, no breeze but that created by the vehicles own movement. Dust billowed from the unimproved rural road, kicked up by underinflated fat truck tires. It rolled in through wide-open windows, sticking to the passengers and adding to their discomforts.

"'an he said, 'But it's only a little one'" Mary giggled as she finished her latest homemade joke.

Tabith Elizabeth Villard groaned in dismay. Mary was her best friend, but her jokes were the worst. She wasn't in much of a good mood anyway. Mrs. Barber had caught her passing notes in History class. Getting caught was one thing, having to stand in front of the whole class and recite its contents was another.

Their ancient bus slowed, its brakes moaning in protest as they fought to bring the almost empty vehicle to a halt. Tabith stood, grimacing as she hefted her heavy backpack. Mrs. Barber had given her enough homework to last all weekend, and she was supposed to be going camping. Shoving her silver-blue pom-poms into a carrysack she called goodbye to Mary, then stepped off into settling clouds of dust. Walking a few yards back down the road to her Uncles ranch gate Tabith turned, waving goodbye to her friends as the bus labored further up the hill.

Turning back towards home she started down the rutted road, kicking dusty stones aside as she walked. It was two miles to her Uncles house if she followed the road, but less than half that if she cut across the deserted hills. That shortcut gave her almost an hour of delicious privacy. Time she spent doing her homework, her tired feet soaking in the stream that ran under her favorite oak tree. Carefully she made her way past an old pile of dynamite shattered boulders, then cut left onto a well worn path, heading for her hiding place.

* * * * *

"Get those bushes dug out and loaded" came the command. "We're almost out of time."

A thin figure wearing a patched silver environment suit looked up, grumbling at the order. Hadn't he already pulled five of these stupid plants already? Fuming he reached into one pocket, pulled out a small plastic package, quickly swallowing one of its green and blue capsules. Just as quickly he shoved the package at his pocket, then reached down to jerk at the stubborn desert plant in his hands.

'Damn thing's taproot must reach the other side of this crummy planet' he thought, finally dropping plant and dirt into a container. He poured half a liter of water into the unit, then sealed it against environmental contamination. Lifting the now slightly heaver container, he staggered toward one of the two saucer shaped landers. Unnoticed, his highly illegal drug packet fell from his pocket, rolling under a spiny plant.

* * * * *

Tabith giggled as she reached a tiny cliff's edge. Taking off her shoes and socks, she waded into the small stream. Paradise was only a few meters away.

* * * * *

The same silver figure, dirty from previous work, now held a weapon. Moving slowly he had slipped through the brush, heading for the local watering hole. It was nearing sunset, it would be his last chance to capture a large animal before abandoning this planet. His drug fogged brain slowed his movements, while reality often slipped. He moved carefully, not wanting to be caught high again, as it would mean another hefty fine against his meager pay. Reaching the point he had been shown, he scrunched down. His form blurred as he settled down, his suits automatic system doing the job he had forgotten. Laying flat on the ground he closed his eyes a moment. In seconds he was asleep.

* * * * *

Tabith slowed as she heard the tiny waterfall. It always sounded to her like elf-children laughing and she enjoyed the illusion. Minutes later she was standing under the huge oak tree. Dropping her shoes and carrysack, she let her knapsack slide from her shoulders. It landed with a heavy thump on the grass covered earth. Breathing in the moist sweet air, she started unbuttoning her blouse.

* * * * *

The sound of the knapsack's impact woke the figure. Half asleep, he saw Tabith through a drugged fogged brain. Swinging up his weapon up he aimed carefully in the afternoon light.

* * * * *

Tabith folded her blouse as she stepped out of her short cheerleader's skirt. Setting both carefully on her knapsack she took only a moment to unbraid her long silver-grey hair. Standing in her underwear she stretched, her tail no longer hindered, lifted proudly above her shoulders. With a short laugh she jumped into the cool water,

* * * * *

Through drug laced channels the aliens fogged brain interpreted the girl's actions quite differently from reality. 'Jeeze, a giant rat hunting fish' he thought as he triggered his weapon. There was a soft pressure against his shoulder as the weapon discharged.

* * * * *

Tabith stood straight up when the dart impacted her left buttock, its needle point passing unhindered through her thin cotton panties. She inhaled deeply, in reaction to the pain as much as starting a scream, but the alien drug, tailored specifically for her planets lifeforms just a month before, acted too fast. With a throaty gurgle she passed out, falling face first into the water.

* * * * *

The alien rushed into the water, quickly dragging Tabith's body out of the water by her feet. Fighting to reach the shore with his burden he triggered a radio call. In minutes a robotic cage arrived. Pushing and shoving, he managed to stuff the young girl in. His boots tore at her castoff clothing as he scuffled to force her body into the too small cage. With a grunt of effort he latched the bulging door. Standing back to admire his work, his mud spattered boots crushed one of the bright pom-poms into the mud. Satisfied, he sent the robot back, never noticing the used dart that had dropped to the ground.

Half an hour later the recall came. After a over a standard year of landings the alien governments had finally gotten their act together. They had been spotted by an military search party, it was time to pack up and leave. Not long after, nothing remained of the landing site but a few scorched marks on the ground, a few missing plants, and Tabith's shattered life.

* * * * *

"What were you thinking when you shot her?"

She woke to a blinding headache, searing pain, cold and the sound of an unknown language. Her mouth felt stuffed with cotton, her arms like lead pipes, and she was cold. She moaned softly, trying not to move more than she had to. There was a slapping sound, a barked order, then the noise of a metal door slamming shut. She tried to move and found her limbs restrained. Groaning, she opened her eyes . . . and looked into the face of her greatest nightmare.

* * * * *

Captain Jacob MacAllaster stared at the unconscious mouse-girl. Tabith had fainted in mid-scream. 'So much for first impressions' he thought to himself, staring down at the restrained girl. His shock at being informed at what 'Lt. Brown's dangerous large animal' was had almost cost the young man his life. It was too late now to simply return her, their last landing site was crawling with military and 'Black Agents.' Every government had them, and he had no desire to get near even a friendly member of that species. Besides, his remaining functional landing craft simply were no match for the high-mach fighters now cruising the area.

His belt phone chirped, shaking him from his thoughts. Opening it he saw the face of his second in command. "Captain, they've launched missiles" she reported. "AMM system is still down for repairs, we need you on the Bridge." Shaking his head he left Sickbay, and the sleeping girl.

Hurrying to his bridge, he glanced at the blue-green planet drifting on the main screen. A tiny white dot showed the alien missiles, rapidly closing on their position. "Maximum ECM, get us out of here" he ordered as he stepped over to the navigation station. A previous error by 'Lt. Brown' had cost them their targeting systems. Until repairs could be completed, firing any interceptors would be a waste of time. Leaning over the navigators shoulder he glanced at her terminal.

* * * * *

In space there is no sound but that created in the gas cloud of an explosion. Caught by a single effective interceptor, almost unready, the alien starship sustained heavy damage to its aft section. Shrapnel designed to kill an incoming ICBM rattled against the ships heavier armor. Most failed to cause serious damage, still a few located the more delicate areas of the ship, like where its engines critical plumbing resided.

MacAllaster slammed against his chair, spinning away as the crack of shattered bone resounded in his ears. His navigator slid across the floor, a bright red stain spreading across her belly. Alarms screamed. Over half the ship had been punctured by shrapnel, almost all of the engines had gone off-line.

"Get us out of orbit before they can launch more" he ordered. Climbing to his feet he looked around in shock, surface to orbit interceptors? How advanced was this 'backwater little planet.' A quick lance of fear ran through him, 'They might even have spaceflight capability' he thought.

Moving with the grace of a garbage barge, the shattered ship moved away from the planet. Badly hurt, her radios screaming lightspeed Mayday, she turned toward the next planet out. Barely habitable, the Mars-like world was the aliens only hope of survival until help came.

And Tabith's.

A Second Chapter

A man in ornate clothing sat heavily on his throne, staring down at the two people, a man in military uniform and a woman in simple blue, standing before him. "Your certain a hostage was taken" he asked.

The elderly man before him, a General, looked up from his notes searching his Kings face. "Yes Milord" he answered, "At least the ranch girl, there are hints of possibly more in other countries, but not as solid proof as this case offers."

William the fifth, Lord High King of his country, was a troubled man. At age forty- one and less than twelve years into his rein, he found himself faced with a crisis the likes no-one on his planet had ever experienced. Before him stood his two most trusted advisors, one career Military, one career Religious. In their paws they held information that could bring half, or more of the planet to its knees. "Can it be kept quiet, or is the damage already done" he asked.

"There is no way to explain our interceptor launches, other than against an attack. The strange materials... Well Sire, I would say yes, if that is your desire" the military man replied. "In regards to our people, of course we can keep quiet. If that is your wish."

"Perhaps secrecy is not the answer you seek William" the middle aged woman in deep blue interrupted. "We have always known the Demon's would return, that it would be in our paws to decide the final battle between Good and Evil. This coming has been foretold by many Religions, Prophets and even Fakirs over the Centuries."

"Then the Church has made a decision" the King asked, his voice heavy with dread.

"Yes King William, we have" she answered. From her gown she withdrew a thin brown parchment envelope. Stepping softly up to the throne she offered it. "I respectfully request, your Majesty, that you read this, before making your decision."

William, ruler of one hundred and eighty million souls, and life long friend to both who stood before him smiled. "Since when have either of you 'Respectfully requested' anything from me" he asked, gently accepting the envelope from her paw.

"Times change William, as must we all" the woman answered.

Carefully breaking the hard wax seal he withdrew a single page. As is the truth of all world shattering messages, it took less than a minute to read. He sighed, closing his eyes against the world. "Lille, do you know what this says" he asked.

"Of course not" she answered, mirth showing in her voice. "We all know the messenger is never allowed to know if they will live or die. At least, not until the headsman enters their chambers."

He almost cracked a smile, then turned to face the General. "It's war Tom" he told the old man, watching as the solders face hardened. "The Pope informs me there is too much evidence, we can't cover it all up. In the end, it would shatter our world worse than the truth. Not only that, but by taking a maiden child a last prophecy is filled almost to the letter." He slipped the message back into its envelope, dropping it in a pocket on the side of his throne, turning so as to face both equally. "Tell the Pope we'll do our mortal best Lille, as we always have at her bequest. Tom, get a real space program started, not that half-hearted hobby running now. From what you say that... ship is headed for Naram. That was the final piece of the puzzle, where would the Demons go but to re-establish their rule of the Blood World. Go, and hurry."

"At your command Milord" the General replied. Gathering his few papers from the small audience table, he quickly left the chamber. Stepping out into a warm Summer sun General Thomas Garza bowed his head. Sixty-three years old, two years from a safe, peaceful retirement where he could dabble in politics and his trains, he found himself facing the end of his world. 'God save poor Villard' he thought, 'And any others with her.'

Bishop Lille Sanders too gathered her few pages, nodding to her King, whom she had known since birth. She too departed for her 'Command Center' and a non-too-secure future. "My Lord and Lady" she whispered as the chamber door closed behind her. "Are we truly ready for this war? Have all the wars past been nothing but practice for this. Are we truly ready, or will we fall like leaves in a Autumn storm before such evil."

* * * * *

Tabith Villard was still cringing in the corner of her room. She had constantly prayed that she would awaken from this nightmare, to find herself in her own bed, safe at home. Yet day after day she still faced those same metal walls, the bright gaudy symbol of evil hanging across from her. Day after day the same female demon had entered the room, trying to talk to her, trying to coerce her to the dark. "Am I to be destroyed" she whispered to herself again and again. "Will my flesh will be eaten by demons, my soul bound too, fated to their service forever? Will I never meet my parents again?" Each day, like the other, she had found her faith tested. The she-demon was friendly and hadn't shown her teeth since that first time, had apologized for Tabith's abduction, had done all the things one would expect from a Priest. Still the girl resisted, but her resistance had worn thin. Her mind was slowly beginning to crack, had reached the limits of its resistance. Everyone has their limits, and a sixteen year old girl couldn't be expected to stand against what Tabith was experiencing. The next visit would determine just which way her crumbling mind fell.

Captain MacAllaster was studying the ruins scattered across reddish landscape. Straggly plants poked out here and there where water might pool, somehow holding their own in the planets thin atmosphere. When there was time they would have to study the ruins, find out what happened. Two viable planets in the same system was rare, that two civilizations had grown up within sight of each other was unheard of. Still, right now it was all the remaining crew could do to patch up the ships hull. Against all odds the science ship had managed a landing on the Mars-like world.

It was a bitter-sweet chance at survival. Outside the late Spring temperature hovered around forty degrees Fahrenheit at high noon, dipping below just below freezing in the early morning hours. 'Maybe it will be better in Summer' he thought 'But Winter is going to be Hell.' Pressing a series of buttons he connected to one of the remaining science labs. "Ruth, lets get today's progress report over" he ordered. There was an all-too quick acknowledgment of his order, a sure sign repair work had ground to a halt yet again. 'At least we got a message drone off' he told himself. 'Even if it is only half lightspeed."

Lt. Ruth Barker headed for the Bridge, now manned by only a single person each shift. Until a work crew could finish sealing the ship they were too short handed to man more than skeleton posts. Absently she rubbed her ribs, still sore a month after being cracked in the unexpected attack. Still, it was better luck than her husband. His lab had been ruptured. She hoped that somewhere on the third planet his body, or what remained of it, had found peace. Reaching the bridge hatch she stopped, settling herself. Adjusting her clothing she pushed open the hatch and stepped in.

MacAllaster nodded to her, walking over to meet her. "Our guest still not talking?" he asked.

"Actually, I've begun to get a few words out of her" Ruth answered. "I think that she's either starting to trust me, or I'm getting better at the language. I only wish we'd known about the teeth thing before she went into a screaming fit."

"There's always mistakes at first contact Ruth" MacAllaster told her. "Your just lucky you only made the one. I've known First Contact teams that have spent months talking to natives, only to discover they've been talking to slaves or worse." He laughed, "Remember Formahatt?"

"We make contact with an insane asylum" she answered, "A whole minor continent that was nothing but an insane asylum. Who could have guessed. Still, it doesn't answer this problem. I haven't even gotten her name out of her, and its been over a standard month. All she does is stay squeezed into that corner, staring at the wall across from her. At least we don't have to force feed her anymore, that proves she hasn't gone insane or something."

MacAllaster reached beyond Ruth, touching a switch, then turned back to the bridge viewport. Tabith's room filled the screen. The young girl no longer carried the soft curves of a blossoming young woman. Bones showed where once soft curves had been, her face was gaunt, her eyes locked on something. As they watched she began to speak again, a soft chant, barely audible.

"What's she saying?" MacAllaster asked.

"Oh Heaven sent Father and Mother who protects us all.... It's pretty much the typical 'Lords Prayer' in her own cultural experience. Their religion appears a lot like ours other than symbolisms... Symbols... Oh my God" she finished in a hushed voice. "Jose's crucifix! That's what she's frightened of. I forgot all about it." In a rush she was out the hatch, leaving it hanging open behind her.

Tabith started when the chambers door suddenly slammed open, the unexpected noise shattering her fragile concentration. She watched as the she-demon jerked the sign of evil from the wall, turning to leave.

Ruth's sudden turn put her off balance, her next step was a stagger and she slammed against a table, the gilded ceramic cross knocked from her hand as her half-healed ribs screamed in protest. The golden cross fell to the floor, a sharp crack filled the room as it shattered on impact with the metal decking. Pieces went every direction, the largest sliding towards the cringing mouse-girl.

Tabith couldn't take her eyes off the gold totem pieces as they tumbled towards her, couldn't move. They came to a stop just inches away from her and her stressed mind fell, beginning to hallucinate. Something remembered from Sunday School, something about the cross of evil caught in her mind and abruptly she smiled. Slowly, carefully she picked up the pieces, stood, and walked to Ruth. Quietly she held out the things, releasing them as the humans hands touched her own paws. Tabith watched as Ruth, suddenly frightened, gathered the remaining pieces from their resting places and left. She knew her place now, her Gods had given her a sign. She was the Avatar. Her place was to learn the Demon's way, to help her people when they came, for in her beliefs there was no question of what this was. This was The Armageddon, and her place was prophesied. The Sacrificial Virgin, who's blood would wash over the Demon's in their moment of triumph, bringing down their temples. But only if she played her part right, fooling the Demons into believing she was theirs, while holding tight to her faith. If not, she, and her world was doomed.

"What happened in there" MacAllaster demanded as Ruth returned. "What made her move like that, and why that sudden angelic smile?"

"I tripped..." Ruth began, quieting at MacAllaster's wave.

"Not that, the cross" he ordered.

Ruth stared at the pieces in her hand, "I'll have to do more studies" she answered, "But as a rough guess, I'd say this is their equivalent to a Satanic symbol. We've just discovered a race where the symbols of good, and evil... Are perfectly reversed from ours."

"How many of the people we lost were Christian" Macllaster whispered, "And how many crosses are orbiting a planet ready to go into Jihad at their sight?" He sighed, leaning against his chair. "We both saw the five pointed star she wears, and neither of us even thought it might be a religious symbol."

Ruth walked to the viewscreen, staring at the girl shown there. "We can't trust her, perhaps we should just kill her. Save all of us the stress and danger" she suggested, her voice suddenly hollow.

"Kill? Kill someone for believing differently than we do?" MacAllaster asked. "What do you think we are? Mad raving Fundamentalists? Only the mindless evil kill for that reason. No..." He too stared at the young girl. She was slowly, carefully walking around the room, studying everything. Something about her had changed, something disquieting. "No, we try to find a common ground. We're not immoral terrorist's, we aren't going to kill someone who doesn't believe exactly as we do. This isn't Europe invading the New Worlds, the Inquisition, this isn't the Middle East. We're going to find common ground, even if we have to give more than she does."

"I understand Captain, your absolutely correct" Ruth answered. Pulling open her blouse she let fall the tiny silver cross her husband had given her so long ago. "She's seen this, I'll have to be replaced. Greene is as good as I am, maybe better." Absently she shoved the cross back under the fabric, sealing it away again. Her face turned towards the floor. "I'm sorry Jacob, I guess I'm no better than Brown was. At least you've taken care of that problem.... I didn't know I would make such a foolish, and dangerous mistake. We could have lost her, or worse." She stared at the deck, "Religion is the deadliest little poison, isn't it?" She took a deep breath, staring at the mouse-fem on the screen. "I had such hopes... Maybe I can still be effective, working as Greene's assistant." She closed her notebook, turning to face her Captain. "May I... May I be excused sir? I'll need to brief Greene."

MacAllaster nodded, "Your excused. Send Greene in here when your through. I'll brief him from my end. And Ruth? Watch that girl, something about her has changed, I don't think we should give her our full trust." He watched as the woman left, 'We never know which ones have the madness' he thought 'What's worse, they don't either.' He thought about the last Mid-Eastern war on Earth. It was the twenty-fourth century, humans were in space meeting new races, new cultures, new beliefs. "And we're still killing each other over a single idea, and a single worthless spit of sand" he whispered. Well, Ruth was right about one thing, Greene might be different. At least he followed a different path, and maybe the girl would see a friend in his Star of David. But he wished Ruth had been able do the job, a woman might be less threatening to the young girl.'

* * * * *

General Garza carefully mounted a photograph on his Command Room desk. At his order, every desk on the base had one. It was a photograph of Tabith in her Sunday best, at bottom was a single sentence. 'The First Demon Victim.' Quietly he had let it be known that war-time nose-art was again acceptable. Today's early morning walk along the flightline had found several interceptors with various versions anti-Demon symbols painted on their nose, ready pilots in the cockpits of many. primed for instant takeoff. "As if the Demons would be stupid enough to return this early" he muttered to himself.

Entering his Command Room he looked at the assembled members of Science and Military. Taking his place he studied each persons face, finding fear, anger and commitment in every one. When he finished his speech he'd see which ones were affected, and which ones needed replacing. Laying his planner on the table, he took his place at its head, turned to face the assembled experts and took a breath.

"Ladies and Gentlemen" he opened, "We thought the last World War was hell. Well as you all know, Hell has come to visit... and we've taken our first casualty. Today we start a real space program, something we've hesitated to do because the Church teaches space is the Demon's home. They were right, and the Demons have come to call. Our best estaminet from the ancient documents say we have about thirty-five years before they can reactivate their strongholds on Naram. Thirty five years before they can become strong enough to begin the Final Armageddon. In that time we have to enter space, learn how to survive there... and build our own strongholds on Dagger and Shield. With luck, we can bring the battle to them before they are ready." Staring around he studied their reactions, noting who he'd probably have to have replaced, who to watch and who to trust. Nodding to the assembled group he sat. "Lets get to work" he ordered.