Читать книгу Conquest of Noomas - Charles Nuetzel - Страница 10
ОглавлениеCHAPTER THREE
SUMMONS
I. Inner Circle
Authority generates respect from advocates who fear its fury.
Dress and decorum, conduct and discourse pierce bloated egos and prick the tender flesh of status.
Bold defiance stands brazen before wisdom. Thus, even fury balances in favor of justified courage.
—Wisdom of the Ancients
The Proctor’s directive to appear before him came as no surprise. It was only yesterday that Adt had returned to Bel-loniea. He had already spoken with both Romos and Andon Janis. My friend had given us all enough reason to expect the national call to action.
A palace guard escorted me to the Proctor’s study.
The alcove was perched at the top of a spiral staircase leading to this small, practical garret. For it was, indeed a watchtower from where the Proctor had a clear view spanning the central city of his domain.
The supreme authority of Bel-loniea stood behind his desk; an intense expression marking his face. My wife’s grandfather, Proctor Romos was dressed casually in a fine ecru Jilio-skin. He looked relaxed, yet grim.
“Sit!” His simple command was friendly. A nod indicated the padded chair. “Torlo, alarming reports have reached us. I assume you have heard.”
He briefed me on his recent meeting with Andon Janis concerning the microchip from the Messenger, Talni.
“I’ve seen part of the report Adt brought back from the Castle of Doom in Kamina. The danger is obvious. Total secrecy is crucial. Rumors are already circulating though we had hoped to keep minimized. We shall give no credence to any of them.
“However, my Muti said Torlo Hannis will again be a shadow across the future. That same Muti had predicted your influence in our world when you first arrived on Noomas.”
Ironic humor slipped through the Proctor’s smile as he added, “From its lips, I take it seriously. Further details on the subject are classified until Andon’s team has reported back.”
He paused, staring as if attempting to read my face.
“The situation may be beyond our control despite all precautions—most difficult to assess, with the startling news dropping in our laps.
“Uncanny.
“It happens to occur during the most notable phenomenon of our generation, the Three Moons Festival.
“Remarkable.”
Romos shook his head, soberly returning to the crisis at hand. He muttered to himself as if he were summarizing all these factors in order to present a unified concept of the issues.
“At times it is so easy to forget the unique abilities of our Mutis, due to their quiescence. If the message proves to be correct, our understanding of the Muti will surely be changed. No longer can we remain complacent under their guidance—though if this becomes a world crisis, we will need them more than ever before.
“They are capable of detecting future events. Our societies have relied on their benevolent wisdom for countless ages. Yet we freely govern ourselves while they maintain a respectful and protective watch over us.” He shook his head sadly from side to side.
“If the reports are as accurate as they appear to be, then we face a threatening Muti Empire. Thus, we will not know which Mutis to trust. We are in a very difficult predicament—caught in a critical bind.
“We’re not equipped to battle a toxic Muti uprising without the help of an equally powerful force; our long-term Muti connections.”
Romos impatiently drummed his fingers on the desk, and then stiffly standing, released a heavy sigh.
“Korda dump! We have to sort it all out. And fast. Until then, we must be vigilant toward the complexity of our immediate task.”
His gaze met mine; then he began formulating his plan in a cold, methodical manner.
“We presume the danger is eminent. Prepare for the worst. The Kaminaean Mutis must be stopped at all cost! We have no choice. Use all discretion available to separate friend from foe, especially among our Mutis. A real problem! We must place our trust in those who pass the test and are with us. And pray to the gods of Noomas, all of them however the spirit world works, to help us successfully distinguish good from bad.”
His voice faded, his eyes glazed to some distant point; then back to mine.
“Before I discuss my plan further, can you tell me what you have learned from Adt? I assume he’s confided in you. And I would like a detailed report.”
I took a long, slow breath before deciding how to begin my reply and then proceeded to relate how Adt and Sarleni practice an art related to the telepathic practice of the Mutis.
“Sarleni claims to be a student of a Helandian study. The HanJahn Academy, I believe, directed by a learned teacher named Moyi. I do remember meeting Moyi once during the Relief Projects after the great storm—reminded me of Andon, in some ways. At any rate, I believe their expertise could be on the order of the telecommunications equipment implemented by the Janis Foundation.”
He nodded.
“And they mentioned a woman called Ju-bilee. Apparently they are mystics, of a sort. I seriously doubt it is a religious order, sir. Adt leans toward hard science and would not easily trust mystical teachings without solid evidence.”
The Proctor replied with a candid admission.
“It is genuine enough. I have known of the Helandian practices for years. From my youth I studied the historic annals of Noomas.
‘To understand anything fully is to know nothing.
And the more facts you embrace, the less you understand.’
“Gaining a broad sweep of many avenues into truth and answers expands any man’s leadership capabilities with effective authority and wisdom.”
His arms generously cut through the air.
“I am aware of mystical practices among the Primitives in the Northern Territories. We have not had contact with these hidden clans for ages. Not until recently. We reconnected after the disastrous storm that tore through during the Diano War. The Helandians joined the relief efforts along with the Raiders during the worst of the disaster. And afterwards their people slipped away, unnoticed.
“What the general public knows or doesn’t know, has little to do with what a Proctor must know. No power, even as subtle as the Helandi, can govern unless they have some exposure to the outside world. They are simply secretive.
“I understand they are linked to the Nuja gods of the north, primarily worshipped by tribes from their region. If they have perfected their art to the degree you are suggesting, then it will truly be helpful in our conflict with the Kaminaean Mutis.”
The Proctor was addressing me directly, leaning close; pressing his words strongly with an obvious agenda.
I paid close attention.
“Remember, Torlo. The more you can learn and discover the better prepared you will be. Don’t get lost in details best left to the understanding of experts in their specialized fields. Use them. Know whom to entrust into your inner circle, and allow them free reign within their intellectual pools.
“Trust them to sort details. Knowing the difference can be the fine line between success and failure.
“This applies to your galactic experience before coming to our world.…”
He broke his thought, staring into space. After a while he strode to his desk, tapping the rich wood. When he turned back, his tone had shifted.
“I understand our Mutis have limited access to your mind.”
“I don’t know about that,” I admitted.
“My Muti suggested you do.” Romos countered.
“Could it be possible to keep your thoughts discreetly blocked from Muti infiltration? If so, then we can expect to take advantage of your disciplined mental shield.
“If you are successful, your abilities will be greatly useful, as my Muti suggests in its predictions of the shadows you seem to be casting across the future of Noomas.”
The Proctor stepped to the deep-seated window overlooking the Parliament House.
“Urgency is in the air. Have you noticed the influx of outlanders who have recently arrived? It is common to have visitors during the Three Moons Festivals, but this is decidedly different. Our parliament guest quarters have been filling up. Dignitaries from the eastern regions of Kulaina and Walinal have traveled for days.”
He had settled back into the Proctor’s role, leader of a powerful nation and began summarizing preliminary plans of action.
“I have called the High Council as well as the advisors of our international dignitaries to assemble. I’ll be working with the political officials and the media once the community leaders have been initiated. Outlying districts are showing signs of resistance.
His beefy fist struck down on the table hard and determined.
“Stubborn as the Jilio: stuck in their small cultural edicts—unwilling to be open-minded. Nations, tribes and clans are rife with conflicting conditions. They can be difficult. I’ll be communicating with every order, family, and army with whom we must unite.
“I’ll be sending envoys to assemble a military force.
“We will need first-hand reports directly from contacts within every nation. I can depend on few people. Rumors will surface; deny everything. I’ll continue studying the reports as Andon makes progress with decoding the microchip from Talni. Make your connection with Janis; he has the authority to share whatever you need to know.”
He glared at me before continuing.
“You two share origins, from up there!”
He hesitated as if annoyed. The idea of a Galactic Federation spread among the stars was disconcerting to him. “Your experience as a military officer and combatant…out there…is useful.”
He shrugged his tired shoulders, an action of bafflement.
My experiences were extensive on a galactic scale. And Noomas was a planet in a solar system fairly well forgotten within the wide Galactic Federation. I’d come here to search for my father.
They had called me ‘the lost one ‘; Torlo Hannis.
This world of archaic city-states had no technical knowledge concerning interplanetary travel. Only Youi’s father, Andon Janis, understood, for he had been an important part of my past, in a different part of the galaxy, light years from Noomas.
The Proctor was saying:
“If events lead us into an international war, you will be assigned a high command position. We’ll want to utilize your experience with major military conflicts.
“Very soon I’ll be sending you to Kamina. You will have the authority to speak for me.
“Choose several teams. You will be told when to activate these missions. Initially they must seek alliance with factions who sent that Messenger to Adt Dorta. We need connections with the resistance movements developing there.”
The Proctor paused, as he scribbled notes at his desk. Almost as an afterthought, without looking up, he muttered. “Be on your business.”
Thus I had been curtly dismissed.
* * * *
Even though this action had certainly not been unexpected, the Proctor’s brisk manner left no doubt our nation would soon enter a serious conflict. The warrior side of me sprang into instant action, calculating the necessary steps needed to activate mission troops, ready the commanding officers, train and brief staff—all systems within the galactic career-man part of me had the score memorized.
However, another less familiar voice raised its protest within my conscience. If I moved into action as the warrior, that would mean I would be separated from the woman I most dearly loved. Never before had I experienced this strong a desire for a peaceful life bereft of drama. This sedate, sensible persona no longer relished taking risks by taking on uncertain ventures. I now had a wife and a desire to develop community, family, and a home I had never known before. Strange, how these two opposing forces within me arose at this particular time.
I’d faced battles, often in the role of a foot soldier without much emotional attachment, no personal grounding with any woman or family. Detachment made quite a difference.
I felt mixed pride and apprehension over the prospect of a radical change and challenge. War could so easily wipe out any civilization and damage family ties, even when anyone survived. Battle changed men. War brutalized cultures. Nations were violently altered in their status and political position depending on the outcome of the conflicts.
My meeting with the Proctor focused on the serious nature of the coming events. As I left his offices and started towards my own, I found myself lingering in the corridors facing the inner gardens, beyond which were the hangars for private flyers.
Restlessness prevailed. This world which I had so recently adopted was entering into a grave war with an undetermined enemy. As a soldier under the command of a Galactic Federation, I had seen war annihilate total planetary systems. I didn’t want to witness such devastation here on Noomas.
Shaking my head, I tried to put all these jumbled thoughts in some semblance of order.
Perhaps I needed to escape these royal surroundings. Tonight the skies looked particularly calm. So I decided to take a peaceful flight beyond the boundaries of Bel-loniea.
It was a short distance across the gardens to the royal flight hangar. My private grav-disk was parked there, not far from the apartment we occupied in the palace. I experienced a wonderfully freeing sensation when flying over the lovely lands that stretched out in all directions from the walled palace. To the west, beyond the broad expanse of lush farms, lay Bel-loniea’s port from where the ocean expanded past the horizon. Out there was another continent; called Kamina.
I soon found myself flying high above low hanging clouds; the sky far too bright with city lights to see any trace of stars. The practical limits of these flyers kept them below any outer fringes of the atmosphere. They are simple open vessels with no compressed chambers. Not like a spaceship; or like the high-flying planetary liners I’d known in my youth.
The galaxy of my birth was a place of advanced science and with it, came destructive violence on a grand scale. Whole planetary populations could be wiped out.
Life could be wasted without thought; cindered in a mad moment of military or political decision. Living, thinking beings were a product of the universe.
Birth, death and rebirth form the natural cycle of the cosmos.
The limits of our knowledge are bound by the thinly sliced sensory organs granted each species. Perhaps, some day, understanding will arrive through a miraculous union of all consciousness. Until then, all remains enveloped in mystery.
‘New sprouts spring forth from the old,’ the Ji once preached in its metaphysical rhythms of cyclical life.
By comparison to Galactic Federation norms, Noomas was a peaceful haven; a socially primitive mix of modern and ancient technology. Kay-guns held dangerously explosive shells that could blow whatever they hit into atomic dust. Yet the sword played most valiantly in the field of honorable battle, as a cutting tool. This bloody metaphor offered less evolution than its many seers might have wished the masses to believe. Even here, the worshipping of death was used by those who wished to dominate.
The blade cuts a fine line through national boundaries. Violence appears to be the nature of the universe. And this world is not so different: beautiful though it appears through the eyes of a man in love.
Andon was probably right to think of Noomas as a galactic dumping ground. He believed that interstellar ships had come here over the centuries, each bringing various groups of settlers, a mix of farmers, explorers, mercenaries, from all walks of life. And in the mix, penal ships chucked their unwanted cargo on unclaimed worlds such as Noomas, which was not recognized as a constituent of the federation.
I remember him saying to me:
‘It is common for newly developing planets to be hammered by diverse migrations. Religious and political clans and cults escape to new worlds. We don’t know who the original people were on this bit of solar rock. Mutis discourage exploration beyond our borders and I wonder about their motives. I respect them; as they respect me!’
I sifted through these thoughts, not lingering on any in particular. Romos Muti has been a part of my wife’s family for generations. I trust him. The Proctor’s Muti once said:
‘We are not concerned with cosmic concepts. We care little about reaching beyond our own world. The Muti awareness stretches into the past and present and reaches into the future. And even other dimensions.’
At any rate, the universe will eventually swallow its own tail. So life ends up as a meaningless cycle from birth to decay.
Right now I wanted to enjoy the sky and peaceful horizon. The ocean ended the continental landmass but its shores and our city-state’s seaport were too far away to be seen from this low altitude.
I was ready to return home where I would find my love, Youi.
* * * *
The next days filled rapidly with meetings and heavy instructional sessions, spinning the entire palace compound into high gear. Everyone was racing around like mad vipers. Energetic units crammed into every open space forming massive training teams.
Bel-loniea had taken immediate action. The Proctor called upon the wardens from all municipalities to attend a summit at once. The outreach had successfully engaged the majority of nations in the Armada Project. According to the opening debates on the Declaration of Engagement, this process was slowly and surely reaching the rural areas.
Romos had scheduled daily briefings of the Elite Force early each morning. Today we were in our official uniforms waiting near the Proctor’s throne, positioned against the back wall of the meeting hall.
Normally the anteroom served as a staging area for royal audiences. There was ample space behind the partition where over a thousand congregants could be brought to abrupt attention with the blast of a single horn. The throne enclosure had been shut off from the general assembly, which normally stretched out in front of the royal dais.
Less than twenty of us were in attendance; an intense meeting of the inner circle, the trusted Elite. The Proctor had summoned each of us by private invitation with the royal stamp of his signature. To the right of the throne two tall sentries stood side by side: the Janis’ and Proctor’s Mutis draped in their dark robes from hooded heads to booted feet, revealing little of their purpled faces.
Youi was tense at my side. Adt and Sarleni stood with Kigor Dorta. We pressed closer to them, waiting and watching.
Proctor Romos entered with Andon Janis at his right. Raising his arms, he glanced at the intimate assemblage.
“Take note, while Andon speaks.”
As the Proctor sat, the proceedings began with no further ceremony.
The scientist took the stage, Proctor and Mutis presenting a formidable backdrop. Andon’s Korda-strap held his sedately ornamented sword beneath his blue trimmed cloak.
“You’ve been called here for a vital reason critical to the survival of our people. Perhaps even for the survival of all mankind on this planet. We have learned, to our dismay, about a perilous uprising occurring at a frightening speed. A force already dominating a major portion of a distant continent is threatening to cross the seas into our lands.
“Word has reached us through a detailed report brought under dire circumstances by our young Adt Dorta and Sarleni from Helandi. Not all of you have met Sarleni, yet.”
His arm unfolded towards the lovely woman standing near Adt. Heads turned as he continued.
“They retrieved valuable data from Talni, an inside source in Kamina. The brave Messenger, rest his soul, fought to preserve these horrific accounts and make them available to us.…”
The Proctor’s voice cut him short.
“To the point, Andon.”
The nervous scientist rapidly continued:
“Ah yes, the report: it all came from a tiny microchip imbedded upon Talni, the Messenger; a fine piece of genius, it is: a tiny sliver encapsulating a recording shell; quite simple enough for our decoders to resolve. The task will take time for it contains multiple layers of data, graphs, visuals, recordings, and complex messages.
“The preliminary findings are distinctively clear!” Andon’s right hand lifted, index finger extended to become a stiff pointer waving upwards in a spiral as he spoke.
“An authoritative government has come to rule, disregarding the innate ethical principles of natural order. A threatening tyranny is overthrowing tribe after tribe, enslaving the clans; yielding to no negotiation.”
He paused, looked nervously at the floor, then back to the anxious audience.
“The shell appeared to be a singular message, and our lab discovered an unusual coding system that continues to expand the deeper we go.”
His words had begun to drift as his eyes lifted in glassy wonderment.
“I’ve been perplexed by the sliver itself, intricately designed.…”
“Andon, please!” The Proctor scolded with firm understanding.
The scientist continued, after turning a disapproving eye toward the Proctor.
“I suspected the microchip carried volumes of data even before starting my work on it. Vast experience in my previous life has exposed me to wisdom beyond our greatest minds here on Noomas. Reducing infinite information to a concentrated finite point is not beyond advanced.…”
“Andon!”
The Proctor’s tone said far more than that one word.
“Yes. Of course! Talni had spoken clearly in a particular hologram, appealing to all resources who still could hear the message and hopefully guard against its impending threat: the Kamina.”
He shook his head to wave away any questions. Then he eyed the Proctor, knowing that brevity was expected.
A few of us had already heard what Andon Janis was about to reveal.
“We are facing a deadly, ruthless nation.”
His hand lifted again, and the finger pointed like a weapon of destruction, tapping out shot after shot with each declarative statement, aimed threateningly at his rapt audience.
“And they are determined to dominate the human species as beasts of burden for their sadistic desires. Yes, the people are reduced to performing unspeakable atrocities for the expanding rulers of Kamina. Their purposes are malicious, vile, and sadistic to the core.
“A Muti nation: by name—the Kaminaean Muti Empire: by design—determined to dominate Noomas.”
He paused, finger curling shut, then lifting like a drawn sword, once again thrusting at us.
“And they expect to be worshipped in the name of some Ancient decree. They tout themselves as overlords to their human chattel.”
Again he paused; eyes grief-stricken. When the finger relaxed, the hand lowered.
“What is shown within the message is revoltingly graphic.”
Andon Janis shuddered visibly.
“All of you must see and learn from these images. The lab’s viewing screens are all set. My technicians will assist you with the translations. Be warned; prepare yourselves. For, what follows is grotesque to the point of madness. Mutis brutally inflict unspeakable pain on their most loyal human servants. These tyrants have invented sickening ways of savaging humanity.”
General Qui Shan, commander of the joint Bel-loniean Armed Forces, aggressively stepped forward and demanded. “I’ll want proof. As soon as possible! I will require detailed facts regarding their aggressive tactics and any maneuvers that fall under my personal authority!”
Andon shifted towards Qui Shan.
“As you wish; at the Janis Foundation. The volumes of data might require a substantial team to analyze. Detailed maps and historic archives are being extracted from the micro-sliver, even as we speak. We have no idea how relevant they are to current affairs or past eras. It is exhaustive. Still, you may, of course, sort through it all to find pertinent data. I have two specialists standing by with transcribed files for you and your staff, Qui.”
The old scientist explained the background and extent of the Kaminaean uprising in depth and then stepped down, having finished his report. The Proctor confirmed Andon’s invitation and gave brief directives, outlining procedures and assignments for his staff.
“General Qui Shan, you along with Kigor Dorta, will arrange a unified international bulwark.”
A cold, tense silence filled the room.
Suddenly a shrill feminine voice splintered the silence.
“Finally you make sense!”
The sharp, biting tone caused all eyes to turn and see the woman sweep forward. An extraordinary mane of red hair streamed behind her in undulating waves. Her gown glistened with silver and gold mingled with deep scarlet hues. Her entire image shimmered, as if hovering; not standing. Her movement was swift and in a blink she occupied the dais, overshadowing the Proctor and the Mutis.
To most of us she was a stranger.
Sarleni leaned forward tensely without saying a word.
Apparently a projected image of the woman; she hovered, feet not actually touching the floor and bowed in deference to the Proctor; the room watched in amazed silence. Then she spoke with a gentler voice.
“Our people have been tracking the Kaminaean activities, however, their expansion recently escalated at an alarming rate.
“Understand that what you are going to experience is a sample of what is occurring daily in the land of Kamina.”
Her arms spread wide and the room opened in all directions. An uneven plain stretched to the horizon. The speckled landscape was clumped with spindly brush and dried grasses. Far off we could see what appeared to be oddly shaped barren tree limbs. They zoomed close and took the shape of broken arches.
From the heavens a pillar of fiery white and red appeared, belching out of a metal cylinder slowly descending to the ground.
In rapid motion people raced about constructing buildings as if by magic! Expanding and growing and overlaying the surrounding ruins. Everything pulsated, as if wanting to disappear into an elusive dark space.
Then mammoth towering buildings surrounded us. The landscape sank as we were lifted above a massive city. Towering pyramids dotted the metropolis that stretched to the surrounding hillsides.
The scene changed again to a particularly austere pyramid. Here mobs of people pressed frantically towards its many gates and swept us into an already crowded place. The air was filled with sweet scented aromas, lilting strains of soft music and voices chanting in harmony. Apparently this was some sort of Holy Temple, and we were now facing an arena filled with hundreds of cloaked Mutis.
I nearly tripped down a sloping walkway pushed by the others surging around me. We were herded like wild animals down a narrow corridor to the central arena. The stench in the room was now gagging. The music gave way to moans, then cries, then screams and shouts and wails of unquenchable agony. I saw humans stretched out naked on platforms, their flesh being rendered, torn, shredded, burned and beaten in angry rhythm with painful human cries. And above the carnage, the walls were lined with balconies from which hundreds of Mutis cackled and mocked with hideous laughter, amused by the indescribable slaughter of men, women and children. I felt the throbbing pulse of the place; it was a vile choking constriction around my whole being.
Then blackness and deadly silence fell upon the room.
A strong Muti voice boldly chanted into the inky darkness: “Come and partake and surrender to the new God of Order. Make your pilgrimage and worship for this is your destiny. Come to the city, in the midst of Kamina. Enter in unto the Pyramid of the Prophet. For the power of Kalinis is the First Voice to Speak the New Truth. The Prophet is inspired by our True Creator.”
The strange woman now floated before us.
She whispered: “And now see the past!”
We were bathed in bright light and a fresh sea breeze washed over us. A beach stretched out below a tall cliff, surrounded by low jungle growth. A pathway was cut along the cliff, moving up to a looming castle at its top. The scene quickly panned up the path, down dark corridors and high into the castle.
We were propelled through an archway into a cavernous chamber. At the far end were two men. One strong warrior standing over a very small, old man, crumpled on the floor at his feet.
The room blazed fiery lights and crackling explosions filled the air so powerfully that all of us at once covered our ears and dove for the ground. The air was filled with heavy fog, causing me to gasp for air. When it cleared, the old fellow lay there alone, gasping. His arm wrapped tightly across his side where a terrible wound had ripped into his flesh.
“I must speak.” The man’s eyes shifted back and forth as he weakly gasped: “I must…tell…before it is too late. I am called Talni, sent by the elders…spread the message…prevails…we must overthrow the Muti overlords of Kamina.”
A misty fog gathered around the scene.
And I was back, grounded in the Royal Audience Chambers.
The woman standing by the Proctor smiled as her eyes examined one person after another. I felt her presence worm itself into me.
Torlo, you have witnessed the moment of contact with the Messenger. Adt’s strength proved capable of acquiring his message despite the Muti’s interference. Kamina will learn and increase their powers. You must take heed. Learn from the Helandi.
Then her thoughts slipped away leaving only a broken sensation of emptiness when she raised her arms and flashed out of the room.
Stark realization paralyzed all of us. Then everybody was speaking at once.
The Proctor stood.
“Silence!”
As the room grew quiet, Sarleni spoke up.
“That was Ju-bilee.
“Accept her warnings and her advice.”
Kigor Dorta’s, face rigid white, utterly shaken, glared towards Adt, then Sarleni. The man spoke guardedly.
“I know this woman, and I, too, say we must listen.”
The Proctor added.
“She is a formidable ally from Helandi.”
Those words had a startling effect on all of us. He clearly endorsed her, thus advising that we all do the same.
The Proctor took charge giving orders, doling out instructions, leaving no room for debate.
“You will assemble your units. Andon will schedule briefings with each of your sectors in the next days. Go and prepare.”
II. Dangers Declared
They will command you to bow in obedience.
Tormentors of the night haunt dreams.
They imbed their ideals into your minds.
Learn to master the demons and be wise.
Set your goals to Proctor and nation and find peace.
—HanJahn Missives
The young warriors stood silently at attention in the cool assembly room. Their faces expressed the raw intensity of volunteers motivated for dangerous missions. My advisors had selected this exceptional group, over two hundred recruits, willing to die for their nations; determined; dedicated as only youth can be.
I greeted them with the standard, salute and customary briefing; then broke them up into units and turned them over to their group leaders.
One face in the front row, a little to the left had drawn my attention. I recognized the cocky lad who’d made trouble down at the garrison. It had taken a hefty bribe, from Adt and me, to get this cadet released from the holding cell. And besides, I’d promised Sarleni to include her brother in the missions. But instigating an open bar brawl certainly did not look good on his record.
Shortly after their routine drills, I ordered him to report to headquarters.
The young Helandian officer arrived promptly, a lean and eager warrior who stood awkwardly at attention; presumably worried about his tarnished record. His voice was crisp as he saluted.
“Officer Mahzit reporting as ordered, sir!”
These formalities were always uncomfortable, for as a galactic warrior I, too, had begun as an underling. Later, my responsibilities increased, even if I still viewed myself as a warrior.
“Sit!”
Mahzit shuffled a few steps before he took a seat. He did not entirely relax, keeping his shoulders squared.
I briefly studied the open document lying on my desk. His résumé was a detailed log of military duties, the most recent post with the special search and rescue team that had retrieved Adt and Sarleni from Kamina. Prior experience included assignments with the Helandi support teams during the relief projects.
However, his untimely arrest had to be reconciled. I began my interrogation.
“Explain this little incident!”
Mahzit stammered, awkwardly embarrassed about his predicament.
“Sir, I…it was a matter of honor, involving my sister and my country. I tried to avoid it.”
He gave me his version of the fight while I glanced over the report, skimming over interviews with witnesses which matched his story fairly well.
“I see here that you are gifted with the sword, and rapid to confront a person who insults your comrades. Tempered, these values are useful. Without constraint, they can prove dangerous.”
He lifted his chin squarely.
“I had no intention of harming the man, sir.”
I curbed my amusement. “Report claims you had him under control. In fact even he was amazed, once he’d sobered up. His superior demanded blunt explanations as to what actually happened. You have narrowly avoided making an enemy of a formidable fighting man.”
I tapped the report.
“This states all I need to know, unless you have more to add.”
Mahzit leaned forward, eyes intently fixed on mine. “I have experience throughout the Northern Territories. We journeyed with the Kanns and the Raiders. I’m young, yes: and strong, capable and perfectly suited to meet unforeseen challenges.”
“So I noticed.”
I studied him a bit longer; then gave my order.
“You’ll join the team from the Baji-Ney unit. They are a tough and highly ethical clan and—”
“I’m acquainted with the Raiders. I’ll work well with them.”
“Then, it is settled,” I decided.
“Critical expectations are included in written directives. You will make every effort to connect with the Resistance. Learn everything you can and report your findings to Central Command.”
Once I had dismissed Officer Mahzit, I left my offices to meet with Proctor Romos and the General.
* * * *
Qui Shan and the Proctor were in deep conversation when I arrived. They turned, pushing a thick ream across the table.
“Here, take a look at this.”
Proctor Romos shuffled the pages to a section labeled: from the Janis Foundation.
“The great Muti questions so many learned scholars were reticent to recognize are right here, Torlo, made clear through the Messenger.
“We discovered the Mutis have been aware of the expansion of this empire. How long had they been watching? Why hadn’t they advised our leadership earlier? How much did they know?
“Go ahead, read it for yourself.”
Excerpt from the council records.
Reference source: the Guardian of Haldolen.
.…we had never challenged the Mutis nor dared to vocalize our reservations regarding their ways.… For generations we endorsed their consummate authority. They consistently and accurately foretold the future on our behalf.
The Mutis on the continent were not inclined to band together and rarely would participate in worldly affairs. On occasion a few Mutis appeared at an event or counsel meeting: often silently observing; loathe to interfere with the human process.
Nomadic by nature, individualistic, shunning social trivialities save for matters of state, ritual or ceremony. Any one Muti might be speaking for all Mutis, and yet be speaking only for itself with its prophetic cadence. Personal bonding with a family or clan occurred over generations, though it would often travel alone for extended periods.
Alarming evidence has challenged the time worn facts. A legion of Mutis have become violent: emotionally unstable, lashing out against the humans: against the natural order of Noomas.
The report continued:
Their numbers are expanding beyond the territory of Prophet Kalinis, into the heart and to the coastlines of the continent. The Kaminaean Mutis assimilate all Mutis into their grip, convincing them to obey its teachings.
An edict has been sent to all regions with specified regulations, including the punishment of resistance.
Any Muti who disobeys shall be slain.
I looked up at the other two and decided to make this a logical place to stop. Qui Shan paced heavily back and forth, his stocky bulk echoing loudly through the royal audience chamber. The Proctor seemed equally agitated, drumming his fingers on the table.
“What is our response, General?”
Summarizing the preliminary progress of the Armada Project, the General spoke with precision, giving quick accounts of resources under his command. The man displayed exquisite control over his administrative duties.
“We’ve encountered a few snags. Blunt complications. The Helandians have been reluctant to deal with the arrogance of the nations at the Gapa Sea.
“Despite the stubbornness of the peoples of Walinal and Kulaina, we’ve made strides towards cooperation and resolving their differences. I believe it won’t be long before we have a trained force ready to confront Kamina. The Diano have been a strong influence, successfully compelling the mountain clans to support the Armada. The Kanns and Raider tribes are already activated. They will be armed and dispatched at your command.”
“Is an international world war what you want, sir?” I measured my words. “I’ve seen whole planets wiped clean, everyone on them annihilated without mercy: to what purpose?”
Neither one of us was anxious to argue.
I took a deep breath.
“Qui Shan, I respect your experience. You have led many combat missions resulting in minimal casualties and lasting peace.
“Kill the head of the beast and the body will die. I prefer to seek reconciliation with the Muti population at large. And I intend to request full Muti cooperation in order to accomplish this. Are you prepared to involve the Muti sages?”
The General answered.
“The Mutis are not warriors, Torlo, and you know it. Talni’s warning was clear: the Kamina would not negotiate under any circumstances. Their sole intent is to invade and conquer. The enemy may not be so easily defeated! The problem is grave. We’re going in blind, no matter what.”
The Proctor interjected.
“That’s why I assigned you this mission: to operate the initial explorations with explicit authority to speak in my name.”
The General faced me directly.
“Spy missions are expected to supply vital information for the Armada. We need to learn the mechanisms controlling their Ersatz warriors and the reported Gatherers. We will need as much information as possible to plan our ground and air operations against the Kaminaean forces: territorial layouts, mapping charts, and details about the cultures and people.
“Our aircraft will only have power to transport the missions into the territory. Most will not be able to return, even if they succeed. Their ground orders will require them to seek out and join with any Resistance movements. Very likely there are a number of them active throughout the continent. It will be your responsibility to follow up and coordinate with their operations once we’re inside their empire.”
Romos sharply cut in.
“Until then, we must be ready to defend our borders and aggressively rebuke the enemy.”
The General clamped his mouth shut. He obviously had unspoken concerns as the Proctor continued.
“Our re-mapping of the Diano nation, since their defeat, also reshaped its political leadership. The ruling family was exiled. New governing parties, under the Bel-loniean Alliance, have created a strong and effective hold on this nation. We’re assured of their loyalty. I’ve requested a list of qualified officers to be assigned frontline positions in the Armada’s initial probes into Kaminaean territory. Their units will be trained and placed under your direct responsibility.”
A well of distrusting emotion arose as I recalled the Diano who had taken Youi captive.
The Proctor raised his hands at my possible protest. “Things are quite proper. And these people are from a different clan than we had experienced during the wars. Their allegiance to the tyrannical ruling family had been in dispute even before the new order. One officer, in particular, has requested specific assignment to your personal fleet. No. You don’t know him. But he admired what you did.”
“As you say, sir,” I replied, although I had misgivings.
The Proctor added grimly.
“You hesitate. The war is over; they lost. They are now our colonial partners. If I trust them, you can. Captain Darmond is an extraordinary warrior.”
Qui Shan confirmed the Diano’s character.
“Our Proctor has spoken. And I can vouch for Darmond. I interviewed him: personally, supervised his preliminary placement exams. The man is sharp, well educated. Give Darmond serious, consideration.”
I nodded, mentally noting to interview the Diano captain.
Then the General made a startling statement.
“I know you have special experiences from your previous life.”
The man, coughed, and then added.
“I expect you to make good use of them, son!”
The officer had been starkly aloof, except at this moment his words had reflected open respect.
Romos rose to his feet, indicating the meeting was ended.
“You’ll be sent activation orders shortly. So make the most of your remaining time in Bel-loniea.”
He thusly dismissed me.
* * * *
Two days later the Janis’ family Muti approached me. It was a gnarly hooded pundit who, for generations, had been part of my wife’s household. I always felt unsure whether I’d conversed privately with this one or not. To me, in their identical drab, hooded cloaks, they all appeared the same, difficult to define as separate personalities. The Mutis wandered through our lives, briefly lingering and then slipping away into their own solitude. On occasion, one would take bold, brazen, command over a particular event in human society. Like shadows they lurked; uninvolved, disinterested, and unseen. They drifted alone and rarely with perhaps a single companion.
In whispering silences they breezed in and out of a room, observing without inter-reacting. When they connected directly with people, they could appear highly dramatic and even threatening by their implied power. Though usually, they emitted a gentle and nurturing energy.
Personal names: they never responded to labels. I found that confusing and tended to apply descriptive nicknames to those of the royal household. They were interchangeable; yet could easily be defined as separate personalities.
The Janis’ Muti seldom surfaced in my presence. It had been with the Proctor’s family even before Youi’s mother was born. Mutis were quite old and may have been born full-grown. No human had seen a Muti birthing. Some people wondered if they had a beginning, a childhood. Maybe they were born old. Maybe they were immortal as were the many gods of Noomas. Nobody knew.
Mysterious and somewhat alarming, the populace considered them a gift to humanity. I felt less certain; accepting their placement as part of the Noomasian culture.
A large hooded visitor was not an everyday event. They never attempted to be companions or friends with me, to my knowledge. Mutis appeared sporadically and mingled among us without permission.
And so the Janis’ Muti approached, its deep black hollows turned towards my face. Those empty sockets held an inner invisible glow that sensed far more than humans could imagine. Its low, gravelly voice pierced my depths.
“Your future journeys appear erratic. Your shadow cascades extensively across the timeline. The event of Kamina intersects with your line. It permeates the plane of your journeys; most unsettling. The visions are multiple.”
It paused, stock-still.
“I see a place where segments splinter into diverse alternatives. You are a powerful force down one pathway. You are missing from another.”
Then it wavered, shaking its head slowly.
“Wait!” I cried out, knowing the Muti habit of walking away without ceremony.
It froze, and glared down at me with set lines on the multi-leveled map of its face.
I asked.
“What dangers do you see?”
“None to concern you; do not surrender to easy solutions. You will be alone at the darkest of moments. Stand strong on your convictions. Fear not the illusions for they only confuse. And remember, the mission must direct its own destiny.”
“What about Youi and Bel-loniea?”
I seldom made requests. In fact it was rude to make personal inquiries. Mutis were not fortunetellers. They simply announced their prophecy when they deemed it fitting.
“Kamina is your future. Connect with KiNal. Set your goal towards the north. It will unmask your destiny. And reveal your true comrades. Many will die. Sziat can aide you.”
Then it simply stepped away with a rapid twist of its dark cloak.
I studied the empty space it had occupied and considered its words, trying to dismiss all of it as nonsense. Nobody ignored a Muti’s divination.
III. Third Council Debates
Seek understanding of the unknown.
Seek wisdom during the search.
Explore beyond the limits of the known.
True wisdom comes with open knowledge,
Explore through boundless quests.
And find where truth speaks.
—Songs of the Helandi
Illusions and dreams develop from within our consciousness into a perceived reality. The line between these mental states and awareness is often blurred. Nightmarish visions had plagued me since I’d arrived on Noomas and my memory had returned ever so slowly.
Recall is a delicate balance of real and imagined experiences, whether they be shared events or remembered concepts formulated only within. All thoughts are subject to becoming part of that which we call memory. What lives for the moment; slips away to make room for the next event. And we are forever growing, expanding and continually tripping down new pathways much as little children exploring the unknown. Hence we continually journey through a constant living expansion. The Ancients left for us their wisdom and legends handed down to future generations, ever evolving from one culture to the next.
* * * *
Present events were changing rapidly. Talk of war was secretly whispered in anxious voices.
The inner city was still swollen beyond capacity from the holiday festivities. The mood of the populace had taken a decisive shift. An odd air of ominous foreboding had blanketed the gaiety in the streets. Colorful market stalls still bustled with heavy trade, yet the tone of the people had fallen to a hushed urgency. A few wild rogues rambled among the inns and taverns extending the holiday celebrations beyond their natural limits. Rumors of what the future might bring down upon us, rumbled through the alleyways. Stressful anxiety was heavy in the air.
Those who had access to the palace grounds made no pretense about the somber business at hand. The guards at all the gates had been doubled. Extra quarters made ready for the frequent arrivals of dignitaries.
Meetings occurred daily in the Proctor’s chambers. Concerns over the Muti Empire of Kamina had created uproar among the Grand Council members and, indeed, left me with a very uneasy feeling.
My department was no less busy than the rest of the palace. Strategic reports from central intelligence were rapidly piling up on my desk. I scanned the latest summary from the previous day’s meeting, which reflected the popular uncertainty developing into a serious debate over these issues of war. Among these reports was one from Andon, which caught my attention.
JANIS GEOLOGICAL REPORT
A galactic map of the world found in early documentations, recorded topographical details of the major continents through images and data retrieved from my spaceship before it landed in the mountains south of Bel-loniea. The Janis Foundation integrated older charts from their archives and compiled an updated rendition of the area.
Because of the political delicacy, this information was classified.
Knowledge of the continent to the west, Kamina, was shadowed in with few details other than the speculated shoreline and several rough notations of mountainous regions. On the greater charts, landmasses could be conveniently described by their location designated solely by the chart maker, common descriptive titles to geographic regions of water, plant and mountainous regions or directional locale, like the territories to the north, the south, or the east and west.
For purposes of the Armada, Kamina was ascribed to the western continent as a whole, and our familiar continent to the east, called Free Lands. Our nations are numerous, though to mention a few would be sufficient. Bel-loniea, our beloved city state governs over a sizable region bordered by the Kanns of the mountain ranges to the west of the barren northern deserts of the Raiders. Helandi lies beyond the ridges and icy tundra. The Diano, Tantioan, Walinal and many others lie south and east; even beyond the Gapa Sea. Few traverse the distant jungles for there the Korda dwells in great numbers.
Charts from the Haknords and Kasiisi provided additional elements. The data received from Talni, the Messenger, verified astounding details of the continental borders as well as island groups off each of the continental coasts. Among them was the Kasiisi Resort colony near the median latitude and further north, the Muti Sanctuary of Illysæ Ad Mördi Tăłi.
Adt Dorta’s addendum included the following note:
We obtained several sea charts detailing ocean shoals, islands and shorelines along the western ocean. The Haknords are expert chart-makers. They sold their talents to Kamina, creating detailed maps for the purpose of their expansion.
Andon Janis had added the following:
The global maps consistently specify at least three major continents on Noomas. My own ship’s records had traced their habitable sectors, finding all three mildly colonized: two of them in temperate zones. The third encompassed the southern polar region. However, portions of the data were scrambled when my ship malfunctioned; crash landed and was broken into irreparable pieces.
Vivid details of my galactic journey to this remote region flashed by:
The fourth planet was without question inhabitable, containing three major continents and two smaller land areas. I fed statistics to the computer.…
One was on the snow-capped South Pole, another in the middle of an ocean. The third seemed a more logical choice…off the coast of a large continent.…
* * * *
Report, in brief, of the 1st Council meeting held before Romos, Proctor of Bel-loniea
From: Honored Xkahal, speaker of Wisdom, Senior Advisor of the Great Council
We urge full acceptance of the Mutis as formidable authorities. They are trusted universally and must be given proper respect. The Creed of Allegiance within the covenants of our peoples is supportive to the convictions set by the ancient patriarchs. All historical records and memory slates hail the purity and benevolence of the Muti influence.
From: Proctor Romos, Bel-loniea
We accept the report as it was stated and learn, with great sadness, the Kaminaean Empire has proven to be hostile to all human governments. We have listened to our pundit Muti counselors and salute their advice and the grave urgency of the Messenger’s reports.
From: Croelas Bain, Keeper of the Paths, peaks of Kalfor
I speak for our peoples dwelling in the high places, watchers of the pass. We wish no conflict. However, prudence must be our stance towards any shift in loyalty to our Muti sages.
From: Osah Raton, Proctor of Diano
The recent struggles between our two nations have been set aside. The people have reconciled their grievances and have joined forces with your nation in order to make ready for the coming world conflict.
It is critical all members of this new coalition to be of one purpose. My pundit Muti assures us that the northern culture of Helandi offers great power.
From: Nu-Elka of the Kanns
There is no authority in the universe that outshines the beloved and all knowing and all benevolent Mutis. We vote against combined forces to offer war with a Muti Empire.
From: Master Ammila, Herdsman from plains of Kulaina
In recognition of our questionable unity here today, my following must remind the great council of our honorable elders who abide by the Old World thinking. We adhere to the authority given to Mutis. They have always been our supreme advisors. We intend to continue to venerate all Mutis as one voice.
From: Proctor Romos, Bel-loniea
Misplaced trust is self-defeating. Caution is required. If we must secure our borders, then we should act together. If we must retaliate in order to preserve our freedoms; then offensive action shall be taken, and under one authority. Unity will create a solid buffer strong enough to prevail against any dangerously aggressive nation.
From: Zhoena, Ji of the Nuja worshippers
We are aware of the foreign person Sarleni, who holds influence over the House of Dorta. Her presence parallels the sacred Moons Festival. Omens and prophecies abound. The notion of an empire intending to dominate humanity under savage Muti control is absurd!
Above all, this ludicrous fabrication must not interfere with the most holy celebration of our precious gods.
‘O Holy Clinsol and Nosn, most sovereign Regals of the celestials, may you keep guard over your most dedicated people. Slke, Goddess of the peaceful and Nial, God of the joyful, bless your grateful followers. Tooli, Anos and Insi, how we adore you, for we recognize no mightier powers than yours to protect our blessed Noomas. Thanks be to the Gods who keep our world safe, if we trust! So be it to the end.’
From: Proctor Romos, Bel-loniea
Our advisors respect the sovereignty of the gods, reverent Ji.
However, they also support the Family Dorta and the contents of the Messenger’s report. Adt and Sarleni will proceed north to Helandi. Their work is crucial to all of us.
Our pundit Muti advises we call a second meeting of all international representatives. All voices heard here will be given full consideration prior to the next session. This I promise.
From: Kkua of Dailiano, Spokesman for the Plains territory
What do we know of the Helandi? Fantasy about a land of people so secretive and hidden does not merit our consideration. We have no record of their existence.
From: Proctor’s Muti
Knowing means nothing, if you know nothing. There is much on Noomas that you know nothing about. Being ignorant of these facts does not make them non-existent. It only indicates your lack of information concerning these facts.
The Helandi exist. They are peaceful without guile. And their powers are deeply bedded. We have need of their advanced developments for the full maturity of the Armada.
One voice was heard without sound:
‘We must be inclusive, not exclusive. Bind together within a framework of mutual love and affection, with mutual need to be one in an ever-embracing unity.
‘Willingly magnify your awareness with diversified acceptance. We are only as resilient as our unity and our willingness to expand to new levels of understanding.
‘Only by joining forces can we win.’
The Muti introduced this unseen voice as that of a learned Helandian sage, Moyi. The debate had continued among the tribal leaders. The gravity of the Kaminaean conflict struck deep into their core. I skimmed over those entries. The council meeting concluded with protests and debate.
* * * *
A subsequent meeting between the Proctor and leaders of nations focused on further issues, including the Declaration of Engagement and formation of the Armada. The report given me outlined their widely varying views.
Reluctance among the majority to consider action against a foreign nation prevented them from reaching a unified purpose. Despite the many conflicts, the free nations of the land reached unanimity on one issue:
We respect the legitimacy of all nations and peoples.
Until proven otherwise.
Consequently, a third session has been summoned.
The council requested an official connection and conciliation to be developed with the land of Helandi’s leadership.
Delegates would be briefed and sent north.
After exhaustive deliberation only a few conflicting debates remained unresolved. One grave point was unanimously shared:
Nobody wanted war.
I stared at that those words. A tragic resignation rested in their meaning while they expanded before my eyes.
Nobody wanted war.
Distantly I heard my name as both a voice and a thought steadily repeating like a beating drum.
Nobody wants it, Torlo Hannis. You must lead our people into a clash with the Kamina. It is your destiny; it always was. I stared at the document still clutched in my hands.
Nobody wanted war.
My eyes darted around the room. I was its only occupant. Adt is up to his telepathic tricks, again, I thought. But I was wrong. You have a powerful mind, Torlo!
A ghostly image appeared out of the dark, fading in and out of focus. Then it slowly sharpened and I recognized Moyi. He floated, face lined, eyes penetrated deep into mine. Suspended, no larger than my fists, he filled my mental universe with his presence; features drawn up into a wrinkled smile, eyes brightening.
An intense, yet kindly expression marked the stark lines of his face as he continued to stare through me.
Don’t resist!
I reached out and we made contact, my hand touching his. The vivid illusion was real and enveloped me with puzzling security.
It is well for you to be cautious when on mission. For you will soon be sent. The name Torlo Hannis is in danger.
Hide that identity.
Be prepared for false illusions. Fear no images. They will make extraordinary efforts to delude your core awareness. Observe and learn all you can from them, all the while isolating your inner shell.
His image faded; then returned, flickering slightly. When he spoke, his voice was hollow and thin.
Give them Sorla of Kanns, the mercenary. He must occupy them sufficiently. Your challenge is critical. Avoid discovery. Develop Jan Sorla fully. Flesh out his identity. Remember the mercenary from Kanns. Fill him with your knowledge of combat: your experience as a warrior.
Remember the fiction: your father and mother were Kanns, from the north. You have been away from your country for many seasons. You left at the peak of your youth, consigned to armies of other nations. Ever since then you have been without a country; without loyalty to any sovereign. Your profession travels with you.
Remember; the Kanns believe a man’s past is his own. That is their guarded truth; and yours. They are brutal by nature and certainly easy to anger.
You are a mercenary for hire who has conquered many warriors in honorable duels. An assassin, if need be, by nature, trade and habit. You could be useful to the Kaminaeans.
Moyi began to dim.
Our link will not maintain when you go on mission. Be careful.
The image had faded, the voice echoed in the emptiness.
Be alert and aware, Jan Sorla.
I shifted position.
Cloudy pieces of lapsed memory retraced my life on other worlds. Battle ships and wars in long forgotten planetary systems against untold enemies, teased my trepidation. And I, Jan Sorla, fought long and hard among the strongest of them, though it was not as a tribal member of the Kanns on Noomas. For the Sorla I recalled in my former life was that of the galactic warrior. Many times I had led units of a hundred and more to victory, only to redeem my promised reward.
I’d travel on to the next realm, hunting for action. Always hunting and never willing to settle in any land; restless, eager to explore. I’d hoped to find my roots; my family—a connection to the past nearly obliterated.
My search brought me to Noomas. Finding Andon and learning his story gradually shed new light on unanswered questions about my early youth. Within a short time I had remembered large patches of my past.
During the Diano War I had made use of the name Jan Sorla, my name prior to landing on Noomas. As a trained soldier, I easily adopted the nature of the warring Kanns, a fitting cover for a man without memory.
Everything changed when Youi came into my life. I fell in love. She had become my passion; all I ever wanted to live for. And her nation became my nation. My earlier careers on other worlds were now, by choice, faded memory. Noomas took precedence for me.
Once again I concentrated on duty. Between dream and wakefulness, I pondered those last words of the document.
Nobody wanted war
It was time to take action.
My mission units had nearly completed their training and could no longer be delayed. Pulling out my official memo, I began calculating requirements to schedule the initial flight missions. Then I wrote the final details. Sealing the orders, I summoned my couriers to deliver them at once.
IV. Preparations
Be not hasty to define resolution with matters of conflict. Long deliberation often uncovers undiscovered truths while a short fuse will destroy all possibilities of understanding and of lasting peace.
—Teachings of Moyi
It was during these weeks that Adt Dorta joined me nearly every morning to discuss the Kaminaean situation. Often we’d meet at the palace arena where he gave me critical pointers in fencing. One morning, after a few moments of sparring with dulled practice swords, he bluntly stated:
“Your abilities have remarkably improved since our cadet days. Obviously you’ve continued training with my father or one of his instructors. You’re using a few of my father’s unique techniques quite effectively!”
I probably looked puzzled, for he added, “I opened part of your mind and observed. You must take extra time to practice with the sword. You’ll be pleased, I’m sure. Mixed with your masterful hand-to-hand fighting skills, they’ll make you a dangerously fearsome warrior in battle.”
We touched blades; I strove to penetrate his defenses only to have the sword snapped out of my hand. It hit the floor with a clatter. He laughed as I picked it up. “You have forgotten a few things, I see!”
That was a trick he’d flaunted me with many times in the past.
“Maybe,” I grunted, again attacking with more care, only to have each thrust towards his chest easily parried to one side.
His prowess surpassed mine, despite my increasing agility and accelerated response with each practice session.
Before he and Sarleni left for Helandi we devoted long hours in my office to the concepts of the Zygo and all its capabilities, both in the physical and the mental worlds.
Sarleni and Adt had learned to see their world from a broader scope than ever before. And he taught me a lot about the Zygo.
“To give you the blocking ability that Moyi suggested, will take some training.”
Adt would begin gently, though the principles were not so simple.
He would induce a semi-conscious state, what Sarleni referred to as pre-hypnotic mental readiness.
Adt closed his eyes as I loosened my stiff neck and shoulders.
“Relax. Release your control. To shield against any Muti you must only access your surface thoughts.”
Focus on an X; blot out all else.
“Lock your consciousness around the intersection of that mark. Sharpen your concentration within the crux, expand your awareness inward through the central hub until you feel yourself drawn into its dimensions and the shield will trigger.”
Glimpses of random historical events blending with alien visions were suddenly shrouded into grayness; then the room returned.
I must have penetrated some altered state. Physically I experienced two bodies, two minds, two sets of senses, touching, seeing, and hearing everything simultaneously in two completely separate places in space. It was like focusing into separate pictures; enveloping two conscious identities. I could direct awareness to either or both: strange; yet effective.
Adt coached me forward.
“You’ll need a strong block so nobody can read your inner thoughts. You have strong will-power. Even with Sarleni’s link we required a significant amount of joint energy to probe your consciousness. Nonetheless, it will need to be further protected. You must master two minds.
“We will generate an embossed shield depicting illusional scenarios of a lifetime in Kanns. Your surface thoughts will include interactive reflexive intelligence because you do not want to appear dulled. Any Muti reading your thoughts will be suspicious if you appear drugged, shallow, or systematically predictable.
“You will be supporting both, in tandem on a parallel course. At times Sorla sustains all you are and ever have been. A shifting of your inner shell, a wall between immediate awareness and memory, will offset outside perception. When you assume this state, the Muti will know your conscious thoughts, and nothing else.
“Sit back.”
He continued, pulling his chair closer to mine.
“We’ll begin building that shield now.”
Before I could even think the question, he was in my mind:
I’m not alone. Sarleni’s here. We’re unified within the Zygo.
The expression in his eyes grew intense.
Yes. This is Sarleni. We linked, Adt and me. Get used to us. Adt is still struggling; even I am. We’re learning every day. In Helandi we will advance our studies to prepare for the coming conflict…I don’t have time. Moyi calls. Adt will teach you.
And it was a matter of days before his lessons were completed. Shortly before he prepared for his journey to Helandi, Adt handed me a small packet; a compact metal cylinder.
“Keep this. I put it together with the help of the Andon Foundation. It contains my adventures with Sarleni, in more details than you’ve known so far. I call it ‘Slavegirl of Noomas’; an ironic pun, all things considering.
“I’ve included a short, official report for the Proctor, containing a brief list of facts. What I’ve given you reveals everything I remember from the moment you fled that Diano camp to our return here.”
Once Adt had left, I felt a distinct loss. He would soon be going to the Northern Territories. Considering his suggestion, I practice fencing daily selecting different warriors as partners in sporting matches.
My time would be crammed with meetings and insurmountable tasks. I finished signing orders to activate the spy missions. It is always painful to send people on missions that could be death traps.
Just as I closed things down, Andon Janis rushed in unannounced. Without formality he stammered over his words.
“Torlo, I’ve found a record in an ancient scroll in the library. Here is my rough translation; hopefully the message is obvious.”
He extended an envelope which I opened and read. The following was scribbled in his bold handwriting:
We have reached the peak of heaven and the gods wailed:
You are ignorant fools—shunning the holy law, selfishly straying from the righteous path towards your own destruction.
The fires of your own blind passions will consume you. Each lightning bolt will strike your rebellious hearts and snuff you out, one by one, until madness destroys your lands.
The wise and strong will survive and witness with great agony. Listen for the voice of the stranger. For there will come one from above to guide the way into future generations.
Andon said, “I discovered another disturbing section.
“It read, in effect:
“Find the Scrolls of Wisdom, kept by the Guardian of Haldolen. Be warned. They tell where life begins and ends.
“Most intriguing: meaning what? It may be myth. Ancient texts take years to decipher even if we could find them. The task will never be completed in time to ward off this conflict.
“Useless rumors blown into legendary, historic nonsense,” Andon scoffed at his own absurdity.
“One day even you may become the root of the Legend of Torlo Hannis: ah yes, the very thing that I wanted to discuss with you; timelines and origins.”
He tapped the air as if touching some invisible screen then opened a large packet and spread its contents out on my desk.
“The Three Moons Festival has mythological messages and legends and, quiet frankly, it smacks of ludicrous nonsense for a person like me or you, who has experienced life in the Galactic Federation.
“Noomas is different. Ancient text and learning come down through myth and custom. This time we have found a correlation and timeliness is crucial. We’ve been tracing the astrological charts and according to our calculations, the current lunar cyclical trend will soon be at its apex. The latest evidence from Talni’s Message pointed directly to this date.”
The notes were technical and scattered, typical of Andon’s habit of mixing incomplete thoughts with coded note-taking which only he could understand.
“Read; read this!”
He insisted that time was extremely short, if his hunch were true.
I glanced over the material.
“What’s the significance? So the orbits of the moons synchronize once in a millennium. Legends point to major shifts in the cultural and spiritual essence of the planet at large. We all know from legend and history that even silly fables.…”
“Yes—yes,” Andon angrily snapped. “Notice the difference. It is saying the effect can have more than tidal influence. It is expected to bridge continental plates, cause internal quaking effects. More importantly, their strong magnetic field affects our thinking processes. Don’t you see?”
He tapped the bottom.
“Vile are the thoughts radiating from the core believers.
“Alas, we breathe in contempt; we madly seek escape from doom,
“And reach for higher lofts of strength, power and aggression.
“Seeds of Time, the painful birthing, all begins again. Thus, the wheel perpetually turns.”
I had never been influenced by threats or foreboding based on myth. In my opinion, writings and lyrical prose obscure facts with pompously over blown jargon. My patience was running thin. I could not afford to be wasting my time on this trivial material, but Andon was emphatic.
“Connect, connect! We know the basic effects between intergalactic bodies.”
He shook his head and his hand impatiently chopped into the air.
“The gravitational pull between two bodies intersect.…
“Well, I got off base,” he huffed, interrupting his own process.
“The magnetic field influences major global shifts, even earthquakes: not just weather patterns or ocean tides.”
Again he shook his head, aware he wasn’t easy to follow: standard stuff for Andon Janis when he got excited.
“Torlo, from our lives previous to Noomas, we both are familiar with well documented evidence of these factors. The populations here came from those galactic civilizations. The majority have lost memory of their origins. The ancient ruins may contain evidence of early arrivals. Ah, nevermind the cultural genealogy; no time for that.
“The tri-lunar convergence occurs once in a millennium, more or less. And into that phenomenon, history has vented numerous legends, handed down orally through magic-laden verse. History repeats the events. The Moons Celebration is a reflection of natural causes. We understand that. And we have seen the evidence in the recent magnificent storm systems you experienced in your travels with my daughter, Youi.
“Do you remember your academic lessons concerning plate tectonics and earthquakes?”
Andon quickly shuffled through the pages and then thrust a particularly thick document in my face.
“Here it is! Don’t bother reading. Let me quote.
“Precession of the polar axis caused by the gravitational pull of the sun is all the more radically disturbed by the tri-lunar alignment drawing on the equatorial bulge of the flattened rotating planet. The angle of the polar axis proceeding around the pole of the ecliptic is greatly accelerated during the cyclical periods every eight thousand five hundred years. The effect is large enough for changing the equatorial coordinates significantly.
“The celestial pole traces out a broad arc alternating among the major stars, Prena, Volar and Alconi as the pole star. Currently, the pole star is Volar which will be in exact alignment at the height of the lunar convergence during the Romos era in Bel-loniea.
“Since Noomas is an evolving body, the moons influence the condition of the planet’s core. The moons may also contribute to the movement of the tectonic plates. Any shift in those plates could be particularly magnified when all moons align in corresponding orbits.’
“At the tri-lunar convergence all energies within the region are expected to be strongly attracted to their points of origin, thus stressing any balanced power systems at a magnitude unprecedented. Major shifts throughout the planet will bring about seismic turbulence, potentially rupturing continental foundations.”
His voice dropped off.
I reluctantly allowed the information to settle with great difficulty. I could barely sort through his logic because of the widespread lunar-worshipping legends incessantly sifting through my mind. Finally I focused directly on the solid scientific evidence he’d presented:
“Andon, what you say sounds as if this planet is undergoing a major geological shift. Is that right?” I began to calculate the enormous impact of this occurrence as Andon continued his explanations.
If his theories were correct, Noomas was in big trouble.
“Oh Torlo, that’s not the half of it for Noomas. This culture is so deeply steeped in their folk lore and legend, that their way of life will be irrevocably altered. On a cultural scale, the moons’ alignment alone completely annexes the reasoning power of every tribal unit. The people are then compelled with frenzied celebrations to honor the celestial spheres with many days of feasting. The energies of all life forms are so strongly affected by the phenomenon, that they cannot avoid congregating, due to the phenomenal synergy created by the convergence. This is only the beginning.
“Well-documented seizures of madness inevitably follow when the planetary systems respond to the magnetic forces. Ocean tides rise beyond their peaks, the pre-ordained storms, and fissures shake the lands.” Again the man shook his head frantically.
“It all makes sense, and the chaos will be ugly. The notes that shocked me most from the Messenger had to deal with this and the Muti uprising. And their fear of a major shift within their culture, an intruder from beyond…what I believe to have been your arrival: perhaps concerning both of us, since we are the latest known arrivals on the planet.
“The Ancients knew.
“The Kaminaeans fear a new human revolution is about to breed across Noomas, brought on by the tri-lunar alignment.” Again he shook his head.
“The Messenger, Talni, quoted the ancient text in a hologram:
“The New Man will be born when an alien warrior aligns with the three moons.”
I quickly dismissed that last remark, too concerned with the magnitude of this profound information. The implication of legendary myth was unfathomable; besides, the immediacy of the spy missions overwhelmed all other speculations. Nevertheless, what Andon had said made sense.
The necessity of keeping my true identity hidden was clear. Andon’s statements shot deeply to my core. Plus, he was not nearly finished.
“Ancient text tells of a colonial ship that brought people here who marginally fit the description of the Helandi culture; scientists involved with Zygo studies. In the case of the HanJahn, there is reference to the Nexus defining their ultimate state.”
I told him of Moyi’s appearance earlier in this very office. “Adt claims that Sarleni is devoutly dedicated to the counselor’s teachings.”
“A clannish lot; all of them,” Andon laughed.
“The Helandians are secretive and I’ve honored their illusive needs for privacy.”
“That’s all for now,” he concluded, “And enough it is!”
* * * *
Three days later, my activation notice arrived.
Report for Mission Duty: as of tomorrow morning at dawn.
As I unraveled the scroll, a thin leaf slipped to the floor, nearly transparent. I carefully lifted the fragile material, its surface slightly shimmering. I held it close to the light to better read the following message:
Contact on Kamina. The code occurs in greeting. The consecutive sequence must be spoken thusly: North. Friends answer with Mask. Respond only when you hear the word: Reveal. Initiate connection.—Romos
Looking closer at the leaf, I gently touched the slightly ridged lettering which immediately faded on contact with my skin. Within less than a blink, the note had disintegrated in my hands. I concentrated on the code words: North; Mask; Reveal. How they would be used was an unknown issue. After reviewing my orders, I locked up my office and then retired for the night to our private quarters. It was not easy telling Youi the news. Her face instantly shadowed.
“Already?”
I placed a gentle arm around her shoulders.
“It has begun. Our world is at the brink of disaster.”
Her cheek pressed against mine; face hidden, lips close to my ear.
“So soon it all changes.”
I possessively lifted her up in my arms. Youi smiled softly.
“You are changing the subject!”
“Do you object?”
“Should I?”
Her lips brushed my cheek.
“You are my dearest lover in the entire universe.”
“There are others?”
“I might be tempted to visit the Royal Pleasure Palace where a woman might find comfort on lonely nights. If I’m left alone too long,”
I raised an eyebrow watching her blush deeply at her highly unlikely fantasy and we both smiled knowingly. As I carried her into our bedchamber she softly purred:
“Do you have time?”
“What else can we do? We must honor the tri-lunar goddesses. Surely your grandfather would approve.”
“Even the Proctor cannot disapprove. So speaks his granddaughter who is willingly seduced by the father of her child.”
It took a moment to digest the full implications of her statement.
“Yes, my love,”
She mysteriously whispered.
“Then, perhaps, I should restrain my homage to the honor the tri-lunar goddesses.”
“Honor them or die!” she throatily laughed. “Don’t you dare leave me stranded with only a hint of your promise.”
A thin edge of sadness shrouded her voice.
“Only then can I endure your going off to do battle with evil monsters.”
That was the last thing she said. In the early hours long before dawn, I quietly left her sleeping, gently tucked under the covers. I took little comfort from the local deities, for the only true goddess I knew was my beloved, the one I left there in our bed; the one and only most lovely Proctoress, Youi of Bel-loniea.
