Knowing one deserves punishment makes tolerating punishment a little easier. I remember those years on Gaugun, not as a trial, but as a period of acceptance. I learned patience, tolerance, and found my center core strength. I discovered that shattered illusions are worse than lies, that shallow waters are often hold deep treasures, and that innocent faces are, sometimes, veneers covering layers of thought. Lessons, though they appeared simple, were the most difficult to learn.

    The sun beat down on her back as she followed the Messenger into the tropical atmosphere. Skimming the surface of a broad blue-green ocean, he sent a spray into his wake, drenching Nova in the salty water.
    Ben grinned at her and pointed to the distant landmass, visible as a darker green line on the horizon.
    “We're headed for one of her weird palaces,” he shouted, slowing so his words would not be swept away by sheer speed.
    “Her who?” Nova asked.
    “Our Lady of Gaugun. Jea'malon Velor.”
    Why send her here if Gaugun had a Protector already? Was Jea'malon a teacher or her jailor? Nova wanted to ask but, exhausted by the journey, her thoughts formed too slowly and Ben increased speed toward their destination.
    The 'palace' resembled a granite bowl inverted over a slightly larger granite plate and was supported by hundreds of slender pillars. The entire structure balanced on a sturdy tripodal pedestal and stood a hundred decas from the ground. The tops of the fern-like trees surrounded the base and, as the Velorians landed on the wide stone lip, Nova could hear the sighing wave-like sound they made in the gentle winds. The roof she had compared to a bowl was more like a half sphere, flat and solid on the bottom side.
    The pillars were intricately carved. Nova's attention was drawn from one to the next, and she noticed each was an original design, no two alike. But the carvings were far from haphazard. She couldn't quite figure out the pattern or the overall rhythm but the common thread hadn't escaped her consciousness.
    The young woman wandered, examining one then drawn to the next. The whole chamber beneath the dome had been filled with the columns except for a raised dais, which filled the innermost area. Thousands of delicately painted tiles lined the vertical surface of the marble platform. Each depicted a flower or bird and, again, none was a duplicate of another.
    In the center of the platform was an inlaid line drawing. The picture would not come clear but, with the definitive examples set by the tiles and the pillars, it seemed unlikely that none existed. Probably seeing it from the correct perspective would reveal the hidden meaning.
    Ben sat on the edge of the dais and watched her explorations.
    “Who built this?” Nova asked, kneeling to admire one of the tiles.
    “Jemma.”
    “Does she live here?” The structure would be a better temple than home, though access would be a problem for non-flying creatures.
    Ben shrugged. “Once, until she tired of it and built another.”
    Nova knew the Messenger was leading her with his answers toward whatever question he wanted her to ask.
    “This would take years.” Nova imagined the steps necessary to construct the aerie and let out a sigh for the task.
    “She has had plenty of time. There are eight — no, nine palaces, now. This was the fifth.”
    “Nine?” Nova said, glancing at her companion. He nodded. “That's insane.” Hundreds of years? How long had this Protector been guarding this backworld?
    “She is.” Ben stood and walked around the edge of the podium until he reached the point closest to her. “Jemma will leave you alone, if you leave her alone.” Under his breath, but just loud enough for her to hear, he added, “I think.” He jumped upward and disappeared into an opening through the ceiling that had escaped her notice.
    Nova followed, wondering what other unpleasant surprises awaited.

    The upper level consisted of several large compartments. High windows let air and light fill the cool, stone, ceiling-less chambers. Shelves at each opening provided a place from which to view the perfectly chosen vistas without. From one window the distant mountain range rose in majestic splendor, another framed a seascape complete with a tropical island. The last opening revealed a vast forest of the fern-trees.
    The few furnishings had been fashioned integral to the building. To rearrange the furniture would require moving huge sections of the floor and fitting the pieces back together like a gigantic puzzle. Not a task for a lazy afternoon but easy enough when one had all the time in the world.
    The thought that she might have time to build a few palaces frightened her. For a moment she felt the zing of gold in her veins, something that happened when she was tired or emotional.
    “Will they leave me here forever? Alone? Like Jemma? What was her crime?” Nova sat down in one of the wide marble chairs, letting the chill drench the gold-heat. How many times had the Protector of this world curled in this chair, lonely, forgotten, and unforgiven?
    Ben knelt and kissed her knees. “I don't know her infraction. But she served her sentence and then asked to remain here.”
    Could he taste on her skin the gold still circulating in her cells? “I won't forget about you,” he said. His indigo eyes watched her, and Nova wondered how much of her fear he could see in her face. Daro could always tell when she was afraid or worried.
    He drew little designs on her legs.
    “How lonely she must be.”
    “She prefers alone.” Ben laid his head on her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. His warmth sent the chill from her insides back into the stone seat. The lump in her throat dissolved as his gentle massaging loosened the tenseness from her spine. Ben slid one hand along her leg and she felt the tickle of his breath on her skin. “But tolerates me.”
    She let him part her legs and shivered when his lips nuzzled her midriff and traveled higher to trace her curves through the fabric of her uniform. Without intending to, Nova hitched closer, rubbing against his belly, enjoying his warmth on her stone chilled skin. His hand cupped her rump and drew her tightly against him. His hardness gave her something to squirm against.
    “If you can tolerate me, I'll visit frequently.” Ben kissed her chin and smiled. “Duty, you know.”
    She laughed. His attentions were having the intended results of jollying her from her fear. “You are so dedicated!”
    “Oh, I am. I am, indeed.” Ben dedicated his hands to massaging her legs and thighs, slowed only momentarily by her skirt and panties. This young man knew his way around and inside a Protector's garments — Nova thought with an irreverent giggle — and he removed the obstacle adroitly.
    Nova wondered if Messengers were usually so amusing or such comforting company? The few she'd met had been alike in only the general way of most Velorian males. She considered Van and Ben — the two she knew best. Were joviality, amiability, and glibness among the traits males needed to become Messengers? She wondered if their training included sexual instruction or if it were all left to natural talent. The mental image of those lessons forced a little moan from her. Her sigh distracted him from kissing one place to kissing another. Nova's ensuing chuckle generated a puzzled look from her dedicated lover.
    “I was picturing a roomful of Messenger-candidates being lectured on kissing techniques.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “I need a lesson?”
    Nova shook her head. “No, you silly male.” She drew his face closer to kiss him again. No, he didn't need lessons — he could teach them.

    The ferns supplied boughs of feather-soft foliage that, when covered by her dark cape formed an adequate mattress. Homesickness, gold-poison, the long journey, and Ben's energetic lovemaking conspired to lull Nova into an exhausted slumber.
    She awoke slowly, but with the uncomfortable feeling of being watched. Opening her eyes but slightly, she caught the movement of a shadow as something — or someone passed one of the high windows. When she rolled over, the intruder had gone.
    Ben's relaxed form caught her attention. Whatever dreams played in his handsome head were apparently pleasant. His manhood twitched and rose, subsided and grew again. She repositioned to enjoy the show more comfortably, propping her head on her hand, and her elbow on the fern-covered slab. She blew a light breath over him, and was rewarded with another twitch and incremental rise. Nova wet her finger and dampened the tip. Her next breath had a greater effect, and produced a small noise from the Messenger's throat.
    Nova used a frond to caress the length of his cock, stifling a giggle for the tricks it would perform for her. The touch of her tongue had a dramatic result and the monument to maleness loomed in all its glory, inches from her mouth. Nova kissed the bottom and ran her moistened lips up the shaft. She sensed being watched again, but this time the feeling had no menace. She glanced at Ben's face.
    “Well,” he said, smiling.
    “Well,” Nova replied. “Look what I found. Isn't he cute?” She nuzzled the hardness with her soft cheek and it jerked.
    Ben laughed. “What do you propose to do with your new pet?”
    “Play with him, of course.” Nova tickled the sensitive end with the tip of her tongue. Ben groaned and arched toward her. “He seems to like my lips.”
    “Yes,” the reply was more gasp than word.
    “I wonder what would happen if I put the whole thing in my mouth.”
    Ben rolled his eyes, but his hand followed the curve of her flank to the rise of her rump, and then slid down one golden thigh. He pulled her within his reach, to torment her as she had been tormenting him.
    “I suppose you'll never know until you try,” Ben regained his power of speech as his fingers rubbed against her hidden sensitivity.
    “Shall I?” Nova wriggled against his hand, but her lover continued to tease.
    “Please yourself,” Ben shrugged, feigning nonchalance but his light maddening caresses became firmer and more satisfying as his needs were more fully met by her lips and tongue.

    At some later point, Nova felt the sticky touch of covert eyes. Instantly on guard, she rolled to her feet, escaping Ben's affections. In a nano-tick, she had leapt to the window shelf from which, she was certain, the intruder had been watching. The clouds above curled in a telltale pattern of a rapid passage.
    Nova heard the soft landing beside her, and felt the tiny tremor through the stone. The Messenger traced the line of her backbone from her shoulders to her rump.
    “She was here?” he asked. Nova nodded and continued to scan the sky, waiting for a sonic rumble. She missed his touch as he returned to the chamber and began sorting out his tunic from her uniform.
    He spoke as he dressed. “I'll find her.” He paused and smiled at his latest lover. “I should have looked yesterday, but got distracted.”
    Nova knew by the bulge in his tunic — one that had nothing to do with his physique or his admiration for her — that he had a message crystal for Jemma.
    As he flew away, she wondered what the message contained and if had to do with her and why she was here.

    True to his word, Ben returned to Gaugun regularly but the intervals between his visits seemed endless. Nova became accustomed to the hidden eyes watching her small adventures. The new Guardian explored the immediate surroundings and did a careful aerial reconnaissance of her new Guardianship.
    Gaugun was an old world of shallow sandy-bottomed oceans and timeworn mountains. From orbit, Nova memorized the lay of the two large landmasses, which were situated at extreme opposites — one in the southeastern hemisphere, the other in the northwestern one. A tremendous icecap had formed and dominated the lower half of the southern continent as well as covering many of the numerous archipelagos that dotted the rest of the hemisphere. The seawater was cooler near the glaciers' edges and teamed with hundreds of species of aquatic life.
    Though the animals had many of the characteristics of piscine nature all, except two types, were reptilian derivatives that had adapted to the niche and acquired the fishlike forms. The exceptions were a pair of aquatic mammals, one type similar to over-sized dolphins and the other was a seal-like creature that returned to the sandy beaches to lay eggs in trenches dug in the warm sand.
    From a polar orbital path, Nova solved the puzzle of the inlaid design on the floor of her palace. It was a map of Gaugun, if shaped like the peelings of a sectioned orange and viewed from the northern sky.
    She located the other eight palaces and the site where a tenth had been started but recently deserted. Remembering Ben's advice to leave Jemma alone, Nova avoided all the palaces except the one where she lived. Eventually, if the Protector ever came out of hiding, Nova planned to ask permission to build her own habitat. She didn't like living in a palace or being set on a pedestal in some sort of monument to loneliness.

    Nova started her own mission of covert spying. The dominant sapient species had established a settlement only a few klicks from the palace. Hovering was difficult for her to master so, under the cover of pre-dawn gloom, she would find a sturdy branch on one of the few hardwood trees and recline motionless, watching the village come awake in the morning. She had given each of the forty-three residents a pet name, but gradually heard and remembered their given ones.
    At first Nova had problems establishing the gender of the willowy natives. Male and female alike were built spare and lanky. Only after she'd witnessed a birth had the differences become more apparent. The females were darker-haired and fairer-skinned. The males tended to be taller, swarthier, and have light tan or green-beige hair. Both sexes wore their hair in a wild disarrayed mop, and adorned the mass with leather thongs, bright foliage, and rough gemstones or shells.
    Village government seemed to be based on a benign coercive cooperation. Bartering goods and services fulfilled debts. Commerce required negotiation at a sophisticated level of social standing, personal worth, and familial ties as well as the merits of the object for which they bartered. Relations with the occasional traveler or band of traders began cautiously but warmed once the bartering for the foreign goods started and tribal connections established.
    The natives worked the softer metals for ornamental purposes, but used mica and flint for knives and lance points. Pairs of stones, carefully chosen and worked, were joined by a length of lizard leather for surprisingly effective hunting weapons. The points and jewelry were traded readily, but the knives and bolas were precious to their owners and were rarely sacrificed except as dowries or birthing gifts.
    Nova could see logic in the friendly welcome of strangers. Though mated pairs tended to be monogamous, rarely straying from their spouse with any other resident of their village, the prohibition evidently didn't extend to the wanderers. The gene pool widened with every stranger welcomed to a sociable bedding.

    A few weeks after she began her surveillance, the young adults left the village in a pack and traveled to a mountain a long trek distant. The younglings behaved much as unsupervised adolescents do and Nova remembered her days as a Questling with a smile and a few sad tears.
    The point of the long and arduous journey seemed to be singing a song as a group at the base of the solitary mountain and searching in the skree strewn slopes for a pebble. Nova could see no difference between one rock and the next but the pilgrims took the choice seriously.
    The town at the base of the rocky slopes was some sort of trade center. One of the males and two of the females left with other groups, and were replaced with members of other tribes.
    The homeward trek began informally. An older female, one with the swell of an early pregnancy, simply picked up her pack, weapons, and tied her blanket around her waist. With one last look at the mountain, Tis-lat-rinin-tor-calt turned and followed some inner bearing or distant landmark toward home. One by one, the others — including the three adoptees — did likewise. None hurried, or urged anyone else to catch up, but by nightfall the scattered individuals had congregated at an elbow in the first of several rivers that would be crossed.
    So it would go, each day of travel. Separately or in pairs, they would progress. At nightfall, they would gather together for a meal and sleep. Nova would wait until the camp fell silent, and then fly back to the aerie. One evening, as the last Gauganide settled into a fern bower, the reason for this odd travel pattern became clear. A sinuous shadow hesitated at the edge of the clearing before creeping closer to one of the sleepers.
    The animal — a huge four-legged reptilian predator — startled as one of the travelers rolled and grunted. Nova leapt, landing silently, and confronted the spooked creature with a slap on its snout and a firmly whispered 'no'. The tightly bundled muscles in the sleek haunches flexed but the hunter was held in place by her hand — an unyielding pressure — on his wide back. It lashed its snake-like tail, bared wickedly sharp triangular teeth, and hissed with displeasure.
    The noise aroused the Gauganides, who jumped from their makeshift beds, shouted warnings of 'taparl' and formed a circular phalanx of flint-tipped lances. In the midst of the defensive activity, the Velorian withdrew from the immediate area and watched from the deeper darkness of the fern-trees.
    The taparl crouched and snarled at his intended prey. He circled the perimeter but maintained his distance after a couple of jabs, which penetrated the leather hide, from the defenders when he came within lance distance. One of the bolos, launched from the hands of Tis, delivered a solid wham to the triangular head and convinced the powerful beast that these were not the supper he desired. The lizard-like brute retreated, snarling and hissing, until it crossed the scent trail of some other animal.
    Nova smiled as the group gradually calmed down and began discussing the nearly tragic incidence. Several denied being the one who sounded the alert, and one younger female mused aloud if the 'Golden One' had intervened to save them. Her suggestion was met with good-natured derisiveness, but the comment made Nova wonder if Jemma had broken the non-interference directive regularly enough that Gaugun mythology had created a goddess legend about her. Not that the young protector could blame the older one for helping… Hadn't she interfered also by thwarting the taparl?
    When the troop returned the newcomers were met with warm hospitality. The story of the taparl was told by pantomime during a tribal welcome festival. The rocks from the mountain were added, ceremoniously, to the low wall encircling the fire pit. Those who had been strangers were soon integrated into the routine of survival.

    Their easy transition made Nova long to reveal herself. How would the forest-folk react if she simply walked into the village bearing a rock from their sacred mountain and added it to the ring?
    Unremitting loneliness nearly drove her to it.
    Training — and Ben's timely visit — prevented her.