Lesson 1 How to Tame a Unicorn

The sharp horn narrowly missed my throat, but one of the hooves found its mark. I repressed a scream as pain shot through my shin and up my leg. Only years of experience kept me from making the fatal mistake of crying out. Loud noise would only upset the stabhorn further.

"Easy, girl," I muttered soothingly while staying out of reach of the deadly horn. My voice was tense with pain, but I hoped she wouldn't notice. "Calm down."

The mare didn't listen. She reared up again, her hooves coming perilously close to crushing my skull. An'tia was huge for her age and gender. I barely reached up to the lowest point of her back. With a furious whinny, she landed on all fours again. Golden mist rose from her nostrils, a sign of her anger and fear.

"Take it easy. I'm not here to hurt you."

An'tia didn't care. She glared at me with her azure blue eyes, her disdain and wrath evident. She was going to be a handful. Every new arrival at the sanctuary was scared, dangerous and unpredictable, but her size set her aside from the other stabhorns. I wasn't a small male, not in the slightest, but next to her, I felt tiny.

Her hooves scraped across the ground as she got ready to attack again. The golden mist coming from her nostrils surrounded her like a cloud, shimmering in the evening light of the Second Sun. Maybe it was time to give her some space and try again tomorrow.

An'tia pointed her horn at my heart, the tip dark with dried blood. The blood was green, probably from one of the Quurkat traders who'd transported her on their ship. I hoped they'd sought medical attention. An'tia was a venom-tipped stabhorn, a rare breed whose horns were coated in a slow-acting poison. If the injured traders didn't take the antidote, they'd be paralysed within three intergalactic hours.

With a snort, An'tia shook her mane, her horn still pointing at my chest. It was time to retreat and give her some space.

Very slowly, I backed away. My injured leg hurt when I put weight on it, but I managed to keep from wincing in pain. I'd head to the nearest medpod as soon as I'd written a report on this first encounter.

An'tia whinnied, but stayed in place as she watched my withdrawal. I kept eye contact with her to show the stabhorn that I wasn't prey. I wasn't giving up, I was just taking a break. I'd be back and return again and again until she was ready to trust me.

And then everything happened at once. Someone shouted from behind me. I stumbled. And An'tia charged.

Blinding pain exploded in my chest. Blue eyes met mine. An'tia's triumphant gaze was the last thing I saw before darkness and pain overwhelmed me.

I floated on a river of golden hair. It swept around me, enveloping me in a soothing embrace that washed away all memory of pain. I let the river take me, too weak to resist the steady current. Above me, a blue sky was dappled with fluffy white clouds unlike I'd never seen before. The blue reminded me of something, but the thought was carried away by the river before I could grasp it.

I didn't know how long I drifted. A deep feeling of harmony and peace filled me. I was content simply to float and let the river carry me. The destination didn't matter.

Over time, the clouds above me became larger until they drowned out almost all the blue. Even after they"d hidden the sky, they continued to grow, expanding downwards. When the closest one was only an arm"s length away from me, I tried to swim away from it, but my limbs got tangled in the hair. I was trapped. Helpless, I could do nothing but watch as the clouds grew. A strange scent reached my nose, spicy and exotic. Was that what clouds smelled like? And then a voice echoed through the whiteness, a female, speaking in a melodic language I couldn"t understand. But then the cloud touching me solidified,pressing against my face-

"Stop struggling."

A familiar voice made me stop immediately. I was used to following his orders. My sire.

I opened my eyes. As always, it was as if looking into a mirror. A mirror that showed me what I would look like forty rotations from now. My sire had the same angular face, the same piercing purple eyes, the same curved ears that seemed too large for my head. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes that I lacked, but otherwise, we were identical. Not surprising considering I was his clone.

"You barely made it," he said with a sigh. Disappointment swung in his words. Not because I"d almost died. Because I almost destroyed his legacy. He"d paid a small fortune to have me created, yet I"d not given him what he"d expected in return. It didn"t matter that I"d become the best stabhorn tamer on the planet. It didn"t matter that I was happy with my life. No, to my sire, I was a constant source of disappointment.

"How bad is it?" I asked, then coughed. My throat was dry, but my sire didn"t offer me a drink. He simply stared down at me with an unreadable expression.

"They had to give you an organ transplant or you wouldn"t have survived."

Wow. I"d really come close then. I"d been wounded by stabhorns before, it was almost part of the job description, but I"d never been hurt this badly.

"I gave permission to have the credits deducted from your account," my sire continued. "But since you"ve clearly not handled your money well, you"re now in debt."

I wasn"t surprised he"d not offered to pay for my operation with his own credits. He"d always told me that creating me had been expensive enough. I"d had to work for my living from the moment I was old enough.

Debt. Great. I wondered how long it would take me to pay back the credits. Being a stabhorn tamer came with a lot of prestige, but the salary was way below what my sire earned in his job as a Professor at the Intergalactic University.

"Where"s my Commband?" I asked weakly.

He handed it to me and waited while I pulled up my bank balance. I cursed when I saw the amount, then closed my eyes in denial. It would take decades.

My sire clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You know you shouldn"t use such language. It doesn"t befit your status."

"Status?" I laughed humourlessly. "I"m bankrupt. How am I even going to pay for my food? Or my electricity?"

"It was your decision to play with dangerous animals. You shouldn't be surprised that you got hurt. It's been a long time coming, if you ask me."

"I'm not asking you," I snapped. I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I let myself drop back onto the medpod's soft mattress.

"There is one way you could make up for it," my sire said, a twisted smirk around his lips. Oh no. I wasn't going to like this. "You could come work for me."

I couldn't repress a laugh. "Work for you? I'd rather be gouged by a stabhorn again."

"That could be arranged," he said coldly. "I will send you the details later. Once they evict you, I'm sure you will reconsider."

He left before I could say another word. I was seething, desperate to punch something. How had my life suddenly become a nightmare? Yesterday, I'd been the darling of the stabhorn scene. Today, I was injured, poor and miserable.

After two rotationsin the medical centre, I was discharged home. My landlord didn't know yet that I was bankrupt, so I was able to stay here for a bit longer. Only when I couldn't pay the next rent would she discover the truth. I'd spent the past two rotations trying to get a loan to carry me over, but my medical data hat already updated and nobody would lend money to someone who'd almost died and had only just been released from the medical centre. They said I could try again in twenty rotations, but by then, I'd starved.

I opened the cool locker and wrinkled my nose at the rotten smell emanating from it. Most of my food had gone off while I'd been away. I'd been in an induced coma for eight rotations while I recovered from the transplant. This was one of the moments that I wished I had a mate. Someone to look after me while I was sick. Someone to replenish the cool locker. Someone to hug me and heal the hurt my sire's behaviour had caused. Not that I would ever admit that to anyone. My public image was that of a playboy who had no intentions of ever settling down. In reality, I craved the stability a mate could provide. The females I occasionally took home only fulfilled my physical urges. They didn't block the loneliness.

The main console blinked, signalling unread messages. I dropped into my favourite massage pod and told the AI to read me my messages. With a groan, I relaxed as dozens of hands seemed to massage my tired body. I'd missed my pod.

The first two messages were from friends asking how I was. How nice. Not that they were actual friends. They were friends with my money and fame. Now that one of those was gone, would they stick around? I doubted it.

The third message was from my sire. I was tempted to delete it before listening, but as always, I felt a tiny glimmer of hope that my sire might say something nice to me.

For the first time in his life.

"…spoken to the Dean. She's agreed to fund a research project involving Peritans."

I rolled my eyes. They were my sire's favourite alien species. Peritans lived on some backwater planet and hadn't even travelled further than their own moon, but they'd grown to fame across the universe in the past decade. The Intergalactic University was mostly to blame for that. My sire had been one of the first researchers to look into Peritan culture, a contrast to most of his colleagues who were more interested in their biology and intellect. For some strange reason, Peritans were sexually compatible with most sentient species. It made them extremely valuable, even though they likely weren't aware of it. That's why a blockade had been put around their planet and the IGU was the only institution with abduction rights.

My sire loved Peritans more than his own offspring, that much had been clear to me for years. Him mentioning that at the beginning of his message was yet more evidence of that painful fact.

"…you and a stabhorn."

I sat up straight. What? Lost in thought, I'd missed part of the message, so I had the AI rewind.

"…can find stabhorns all over Peritan mythology, but they have stopped believing in their existence. I want to find out why. That's why I got funding to send you and a stabhorn. You'll abduct some natives and confront them with the stabhorn to study their reaction. For legal reasons, it will be best to bring them here rather than do the research on their planet."

My sire had gone crazy. He wanted me to take a stabhorn to Peritus? I had better things to do. Besides, stabhorn hated space travel. They needed fresh air and solid ground beneath their hooves.

"Your salary will cover your medical debts and then some," the message continued. "You'll be able to resume your lavish lifestyle after your return."

Despite the AI's monotonous voice, I could almost hear my sire's disapproving tone. He saw my life as a stabhorn tamer as wasted potential.

"Let me know your decision within the next cycle. I have already spoken to your employers and they've agreed to lend me a stabhorn named An'tia."

I snorted. I bet they didn't tell him that An'tia was the stabhorn who'd almost killed me. She was the worst possible choice for a long space journey.

I was tempted to tell my sire to klat off and stick his research into where the suns didn't shine. But the thought of An'tia made me reconsider. She deserved to be accompanied by someone who knew her, not some stranger.

The massage pod helped me make up my mind. I'd lose it if I didn't do this. I'd lose everything. How bad could a trip to Peritus get?