Blighted Star by Tom Parkinson Page B

his mind
over the two women he was in love with. He felt divided. cut in half down the
middle. One half of him yearned for Lana, the other for Christel. The divide
was so exactly even that even from moment to moment he didn’t know what he
should do. And it wasn’t as if he wanted both, he wanted to be with one woman,
it was just that the one woman might be Christel or it might be Lana. He was
being stupid. Christel had made it pretty clear that what they had was not a
relationship, was just a thing , but did that mean that if she changed
her mind on that score would he go running to her? Grad didn’t think so, and
the thought of losing Lana, of not being with her, was physically painful. He
should really tell Christel that they couldn’t be together anymore. But then
the thought of having taken away from him the source of the best pleasure he
had ever had. .. The woman was a sorceress, he had always had a healthy sexual
appetite, and it wasn’t as if the sex with Lana wasn’t good, but Christel was
in another league entirely, she was the best he had ever had by a long, long
way. He couldn’t contemplate having to give that up. Anyway, he suspected that
all Christel would have to do was smile and he would be in pieces again. He was
like an addict. He was rock hard now just thinking of her. He felt like
groaning, it was like being seventeen again. He turned over again, as quietly
as he could so as not to disturb the engineer. To his surprise a tear formed
and rolled down his cheek.
     
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    Jim
could hear the disturbance in Grad’s breathing. He did not know him well enough
to guess whether Grad was awake or in the grip of some disturbing dream,
but  he worried that the pilot seemed restless.
    Once,
long before, he had lain listening to the breathing of another and had wondered
if they were awake. Beside him in the dark had floated the still form of his wife
on their gravity field bed. He felt, as he always felt when he remembered those
nights, a feeling of separation like deep homesickness, a longing for a time
and a place when he had been truly happy.
     
    <><><> 
     
    Johan
sat up bolt upright. The animals were screaming in agony and terror. The noise
slashed  the night like a butcher’s knife and left Johan paralysed with
fear. A dog was barking hysterically, the sound crashing in waves against the
canvas of the wagon cover. Katinka clutched his arm and the sudden touch almost
made his heart stop. The dog’s voice gurgled out into silence as if its throat
had been sliced through. In the following moment of calm Johan could hear the
sound of disappearing hooves as the animals broke free of the flimsy rope fencing
and escaped into the night.
    Like
most men, Johan had at times imagined some threat to his family and how he
would respond to it. Scenes of sadistic madmen holding them hostage had been
played out in his mind before being dismissed with a rueful smile. In all these
scenes he had played the part of a hero, vanquishing the foe and saving the day
in a most un – Amish fashion. This was not like that. Johan tried to move but
just could not. Again the night broke into frantic sound as more screams, this
time, human ones, came from the tent Daniel had pitched nearby. Still he could
not move. Now Katinka and Petre were cowering behind him. Keeping as far away
from the loose flaps at either end of the wagon cover, the little family
huddled.
    There
was a lull of a few moments then soft shuffling noises began to come from
outside, Katinka once again clutched at Johan’s arm. Shaking with fear he at
last found the strength to react, but only to say a silent prayer, lips moving
over chattering teeth. The noises were outside the wagon now, and came from all
sides, his imagination pictured gigantic black cats, prowling through the
grass, and his mind quailed.
    The
flap moved slightly and Katinka screamed. A human arm came through, groping
from one side then to another. It was Hannah’s. It still had the