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  Sorrow’s Sin

  Helen Allan

  Copyright © Helen Allan, 2018

  Published: 2018

  Hell West Press

  ISBN: Paperback Edition: 9780648303879

  Ebook Edition: 9780648303862

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Helen Allan to be identified as the author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  Cover art: Mario Wibisono

  Sorrow’s Sin

  For Alastair

  Books by Helen Allan

  The Tears of Heaven

  Note to readers

  PREFACE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  Gods of Time

  Offer to readers,

  Etienne’s Endearments

  Before Sorrow, came Megan…

  For Alastair

  Books by Helen Allan

  Books in the Scarab Series

  Scarab: Falling Through Time

  Scarab 2: Fighting Time

  Scarab 3: The Chains of Time

  Books in the Sorrow Series

  Sorrow’s Sin

  The Gods of Time novella

  Sorrow’s Flight

  Sorrow’s Fall

  Sorrow’s Gate

  Other books by Helen Allan

  Gypsy Blood: Love Bloody Hurt

  Gypsy Blood: I walk the bloody line

  Gypsy Blood: The future looks…bloody

  The Vampire Knights Series

  Lancelot’s Lilly

  Arthur’s Rose

  The Bastard’s Briar

  Sir Bor’s Belle

  The Sea Tips

  Bilby

  The Cassie’s Coven series for girls

  Cassie’s Coven: The six-legged frog

  Cassie’s Coven: The Bad Apples Mystery

  Cassie’s Coven: The Bye Bye Birdy Mystery

  Cassie’s Coven: The Abalone Ring Mystery

  The Familiars

  www.helenallan.com

  The Tears of Heaven

  Heaven weeps above the earth all

  night till morn,

  In the darkness weeps as all ashamed to

  weep

  Because the earth hath made her

  state forlorn

  With self-wrought evils of unnumbered

  years

  And doth the fruit of her dishonour

  reap.

  (Alfred Lord Tennyson 1835)

  Note to readers.

  The Sorrow series is a spin-off series from the time travel romance series ‘Scarab’ although this new series can be read as a stand-alone, for a deeper understanding of Sorrow’s conception and past, check out the Scarab series.

  PREFACE

  Striding purposefully towards her, Khalili snarled. “I will return with my people today, or I will not return at all.”

  He stood so close to her; she could smell the polish on his weapons, the faint animal smell of his leather vest.

  “I know,” she said, turning slightly away from him.

  Fast, as he always was, he gripped her by the arm and pulled her back against his chest. She remained still, staring into the fire as he leaned his face to her hair and drew in a long breath.

  “Don’t bite me,” she said softly, feeling his breath on her neck, “not this time.”

  He growled, and she felt his tusks graze the skin beneath her ear.

  1

  Sorrow leant her head down on the edge of the stainless-steel sink, the cold metal pressed hard against her forehead like a brand as she swallowed the last of her tears.

  She’d known this was coming as soon as the cramps started. The bleeding she had put out of her mind, hoping it was just a warning, forget about it, rest, it would stop. But it hadn’t, now the cramps. She knew what was happening; she was a doctor for Christ’s sake. She was losing her baby.

  Gulping back the lump in her throat she looked up at the mirror, searching her eyes, her features, for something, anything, but she looked no different. Had she ever looked pregnant in the first place? Had she glowed? She didn’t think so. She breathed deep and tried to look on the bright side. At least it hadn’t been a late term loss. She hadn’t felt the baby move yet; there were no visible signs she was pregnant, other than the sensitive breasts and constant nausea. Nothing wondrous to miss, except the potential. The potential for a new life, a new start, a new love.

  Giving in to her grief once again she sobbed, leaning her head back down to the hard edge of the sink. The pregnancy had been a shock, a lovely secret she hoped to share with her husband when she returned to his planet – but he had reacted in a way she had never imagined, and now that secret was no more.

  She breathed in hard and thought through all that had happened since she had jumped back through the interplanetary time portal. Anhur, her husband, the man she thought she loved, had betrayed her, ordering her arrest the moment she entered the home they had shared.

  Why did you do it?” he asked, nodding to the guards to leave as he strode into her cell.

  “Do what?”

  “Don’t toy with me, wife. I know you killed Amun, the father of all and his most beloved wife, Amaunet.”

  Sorrow took a deep breath; she had no desire to lie. “I,” she started, “he wasn’t the father of all. He was my father, and he was evil. He used humans as breeding machines, playthings – just as he used the indigenous of all the planets he conquered. Anhur, he couldn’t be allowed to continue. He had plans for Earth that I couldn’t allow to come to fruition.”

  “Earth,” Anhur spat. “You don’t have any idea what you are talking about. You have no clue of his plans.”

  “And you do?” Sorrow asked quietly.

  “All the Earthborn know the history of the Gods,” Anhur said, striding and looking out the window, “the first time we regenerate we learn all – each subsequent time we learn more.”

  “Collective memory?” Sorrow frowned, “why haven’t you told me of this?”

  “It never came up,” Anhur muttered, turning back to look at her. “Are you saying you don’t know the history? That you killed in ignorance?”

  “I’ve never been regenerated,” Sorrow said, returning his gaze steadily. “I’m immortal through the use of the transmuters, the time scarabs.”

  Anhur gritted his teeth and advanced upon her, gripping her forearms hard. “Guards,” he called.

  Sorrow gasped, “you’re hurting me, Anhur, you are hurting me. What are you doing?”

  “Take her to the regeneration tanks,” he ordered, taking no notice of her struggles or her questions.

  “What? No, Anhur, wait, there’s something you need to know,” she struggled, fearful that the tanks would injure her unborn child.

  “No,” he slapped her hard across the face, “there’s something you need to know,” he nodded to the guards to drag her away.

  Sorrow, shocked, her hand pressed to her smarting face, continued to protest, she shouted as the door shut that she was pregnant, but the guards continued to drag her. As she was hauled down the hallways, she saw several of her former slaves, people she had treated kindly, look away and scurry in di
fferent directions. None would help her if it meant braving the displeasure of their master. None, that is, except perhaps Tansy, her cook, who, seeing her mistress being manhandled narrowed her eyes and nodded to Sorrow as she passed.

  Outside the streets were crowded as usual, but the city was changed. Sorrow noticed what she had not seen upon re-entering the gates; there were fortifications on the city walls that had not been there previously. The city, home to perhaps 10,000 Earthborn, was the second largest on this planet, but Sorrow had never before seen the walls manned with guards or the inhabitants carrying weapons in the street. There was an air of, what? Celebration? As though a collective sigh of relief had been let out, but tension was still high.

  Reaching the infirmary Sorrow began to struggle once more as her guards opened one of the tanks and, forcing her in, shut the glass lid tight, prompting the automatic regeneration sequence to begin.

  As the robotic voice of the machine controlling the tanks began to count down, the glass dome she was encased in gradually began to fill with natron. She opened her mouth and screamed as her lungs filled with green liquid. As her body rebelled against the sensation of drowning and a dark green haze began to cover her eyes, her mind was being taken on a journey, back thousands of years, ‘almost like watching television,’ and a drama, a frightening drama, began to play out before her. She watched spellbound as a robed woman walked down a long corridor …..

  Gaea strode purposefully down the hallway, her robes whipping around her legs, her steps sure. In her pocket, she held the last of the scarab time controllers, taken just minutes prior from the blood-soaked neck of her husband.

  Hearing voices behind her she quickened her pace, making her way to the doorway of the ship just as she heard her name called.

  Spinning and pasting on a friendly expression she turned to speak to the man calling her name.

  “Ah, Amun,” she said, seeing who it was and pasting on a smile, “I am in a hurry, Council business, can it wait?”

  “No Mother, I must speak to you about the Council decision last night,” her son said, bowing in a half-hearted show of deference to her as he approached. “There are some who feel it might be safer to take you into seclusion for a time, to allow your followers to calm down and accept the decision.”

  Gaea inwardly seethed, but outwardly projected calm.

  “Amun,” she sighed, “the vote is cast, the decision made, I will not argue further with you on this matter. The Council has spoken. Taking me into custody will only inflame my followers. Take my advice and let things calm down naturally, I will address those who stood with me en masse this evening, all will be well.”

  “So, you will not prevent me from ascending?” Amun asked, surprise shooting up his eyebrows, “I mean, you will not speak out further against the plan?” His eyes strayed possessively to the scarab necklace she wore.

  “No,” Gaea sighed. “If it is the Council’s desire to pass the time controllers to our children and allow you to destroy all planetary alliances then that is the decision, and I will abide by it – I can fight it no longer. But, Son, let me have today to think things through, to plot my course. This evening we shall gather as a family and discuss how we shall proceed.”

  Amun’s eyes narrowed. “Mother you know you will have to resign as President, you have been too vocal an opponent to the way forward. It is time you passed on the scarab and the office to another.”

  “Son,” Gaea smiled, “I am aware of what you want. I have spoken to my sisters this afternoon; we have agreed. Now please, allow me this time.”

  Amun bowed and turned on his heel.

  Gaea waited until she could no longer see his back before turning and quickly entering the ship. She was one of only eight on the planet who knew the codes for instructing the aircraft. The other seven, her sister councillors, their partners and her husband, she had killed with her own hands, the last just minutes prior. Now she hurried in and ordered the ship to power up. She knew she had but minutes before the planet’s security systems would try to override her authority.

  “Ship 1,” she said, striding through the biosphere towards the central control tower.

  “Welcome President Gaea,” the ship intoned in a friendly, female voice.

  “Set a course for the furthest star system that can support my body,” Gaea said, taking the scarab out of her pocket and frowning at the stains the blood had left on the fabric.

  “That would be 23,000 light years away Gaea,” the ship replied, “you would need to be in life-support status for longer than any have gone before.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Gaea sighed, “I feel the life I have led for thousands of years has been nothing but stasis anyway. Lift off immediately please ship. I will place myself in the life-support regeneration tank as soon as we are out of the orbit of the planet.”

  As her sentence finished, Gaea felt the smooth hum of the ship’s body change from gentle to rapid and knew they were in space. The ship’s trajectory was at the speed of light. She hid the scarab in a specially sealed recess near her life support pod, breathed a sigh of relief and strapped herself in. The pod began to fill with green liquid Natron, and she breathed in gently, allowing her body to adjust to the change from gas to liquid. She looked across at the other tanks in the room, thousands lined the walls - empty, but six contained the severed heads of her fellow councillors. Only one she had left behind, and even now she knew it had been a mistake. As her body adjusted to the tank, and the inevitable sensation of drowning passed, she closed her eyes.

  She would not open them again for several thousand years.

  Sorrow breathed deep, her body now used to the natron and pondered what she had learned. She hadn’t seen anything that would, so far, sway her not to kill Amun. But then the memories continued, 2000 years after Gaea first landed….

  She cuddled the small monkey on her lap and considered her next move.

  Earth, the blue planet Ship 1 had determined was the safest place for her, the furthest from her home planet, was beautiful. Its creatures were entrancing, its local species of hominoid varied. But there was one species she was most interested in and had not expected to find; humans.

  Balancing the monkey on her hip like a baby she looked carefully at the plasma samples in the ship’s infirmary and smiled. The indigenous species here along the Nile, had a similar genetic makeup to her own kind, but with one special difference. Her people, the Gods, were tall, virtually hairless apart from the hair on their cone-shaped heads, and immensely intelligent. The local inhabitants of Earth were mentally light years behind her own, but they could learn quickly. Small in body, hairy and primitive their significant advantage was that they could breed. Gaea smiled and thanked the stars she had been the one to find this planet before those who supported the Council’s decision could think to come so far.

  Those she had left behind would seek her out; she knew this. But she also knew they would not do so until their plans had failed, and since she had stolen all eight of the scarab time transmuters – which were integral to their interplanetary destruction plans, that might be sooner rather than later.

  Leaning back and staring at the map of the planets projected onto the screen in Ship 1’s lab, Gaea sighed.

  Thousands of years she had travelled in stasis, thousands of years during which her husband, her son and his ilk could have destroyed dozens of planets in their search for resources and germplasm. Her people’s intelligence had been their downfall. They had mined and destroyed planet after planet in order to feed their never-ending need for technology and comfort. Yet the one thing they could not fix, could not mine, were children. Their brains had grown at the expense of their reproductive ability. No new Gods had been born in thousands of years. The only Gods to have had children in thousands of years were the descendants of the scarab wearers, though it was not known if this was due to a genetic twist of fate, or due to the influence of the apparatuses they wore that bent time.

  After a time, th
e Gods had used their technology for good. Their time transmuters were in the hands of an elite family, the Council, known for its ability to bring peace and prosperity to those planets under their protection. By agreement time could be bent, to change decisions that had been detrimental to worlds.

  But in the past few thousand years, some of those who controlled the scarabs had become greedy, power-hungry and envious of those in other worlds. Not envious of lifestyles, for they had the best, not envious of riches, for they had the most, not envious of technology, for they had the greatest. But envious of life – envious of the ability to create new life – for though the Gods lived for an eternity, they could not recreate themselves – they wanted children.

  And so, while other planets’ populations increased, the Gods slowly whittled away, through suicide, accident, intrigue, until one day a new plan was hatched. To use the scarabs to reverse time. To allow the Gods to make use of those on other planets as their slaves, to find and colonise those planets whose indigenous beings had germplasm that could be harvested. To, in short, populate the universe with the Gods, and no other. To go from the protectors to the overlords.

  Gaea shook her head sadly as she traced the planets with her fingers. She had no choice; she had argued and fought long and hard against those on the Council that agreed with this course of action. Her sisters, their children, her own son and his supporters and Malachi, her husband, the one who had first hatched this diabolical plan. Finally, she had realised she had no other course of action other than to flee and take the scarabs with her. The Gods would still pursue their plans but without the ability to bend time.

  She would live in this out-of-reach planet, preserve the life here, hide and keep safe the scarabs. But, she would have time to teach the humans, to prepare them, and to develop a system of defence for this world. She wanted to ensure her kind never destroyed this planet, as they had destroyed their own and so many others.