Ben Bova – Orion in the Dying Time. Book 3. Chapter 27, 28, 29

I sensed my body being slid into a horizontal vat of some sort, a cylindrical tube that felt cool to my bare scorched skin. The hum of energy. The soft gurgling of liquids. I fell truly asleep, my mind drifting into a deep darkness, more relaxed than it had been in ages. It was like returning to the womb, and my last conscious thought was that perhaps this cylinder of metal and plastic had actually been my womb. I knew I had not been born of woman, any more than Set’s minions had been hatched from natural eggs.

I slept, unimaginably grateful that I did not dream.

The patient gentle cadence of surf washing up on a beach awakened me. I opened my eyes. I was sitting in a reclining chair, soft yet gently supportive, on a high balcony overlooking a wide turquoise sea that stretched out beyond the horizon. A formation of graceful white birds soared through the cloudless blue sky. The sleek gray forms of dolphins glided effortlessly through the waves far below me, their curved fins slicing the surface briefly and then disappearing, only to reappear moments later.

I took a deep breath of sweet clean air. The sunshine felt good, warm, while the breeze coming off the sea was refreshingly cool. I felt strong again. Looking down at myself, I saw that I was clothed in a sleeveless white knee-length robe and a pair of shorts.

For several moments I simply lay back in the recliner, rejoicing in my returned strength. My skin was healthily tanned, all the old scorches and sores had disappeared. My arms and legs had filled out once more.

I got to my feet slowly, found that my legs were firm, and stepped to the balcony’s railing. Peering far down, I scanned the wide expanse of golden sand below. No one. Not a soul. The curving beach was fringed with stately palm trees. The building I was in seemed to rise from the midst of the trees.

The surf drummed softly against the sand. The dolphins plied their way among the waves. One of the birds made a long, folded-wing dive into the water, splashed in, and bobbed up again, gulping a fish down its gullet.

“Hello.”

I whirled around. Anya was standing at the doorway that led inside from the balcony. Her robe was gleaming white silk woven with threads of silver that sparkled in the sunlight. Shining dark hair pulled back off her face. Classic features that inspired the sculptors of ancient Greece with the vision of ideal beauty. The goddess Athena come to warm, breathing life before me.

Instantly I felt Set’s iron-cruel control clamp itself on my emotions. Love and hate, fear and desire, all buried beneath his glacial grip.

“Anya,” was all I could say.

“How do you feel?” she asked, stepping toward me.

“Normal. Much better than… before.”

She gazed deeply into my eyes, and I could see that her own silver-gray eyes were troubled, searching.

“What time is it?” I asked.

With a slight smile she replied, “Morning.”

“No. I mean—what year? What era are we in?”

“This is the era in which you were created, Orion.”

“By the Golden One.”

“His true name is Aten.”

“That’s what the Egyptians call their sun god.”

She arched a brow. “He does not lack for ego, you know.”

“I was created,” I said slowly, “to hunt down Ahriman.”

“Yes. Originally. Aten found you useful for other tasks, too.”

“He’s insane, you know. The Golden One. Aten.”

Anya’s smile faded. “There is no such thing as insanity among us, Orion. We have evolved far beyond that.”

“You’re not really human, are you?”

“We are what humans have become. We are the descendants of humankind.”

“But this body you show me… it’s an illusion, isn’t it?”

She took the final step that closed the distance between us and reached up to touch my cheek with her hand. It felt vibrantly alive.

“This body is composed of atoms and molecules just as yours is, Orion. Blood courses through my veins. And hormones too. The same as any human female.”

“There are humans here? Actual men and women still exist in this time?”

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