by Andy Kasch
“No,” she admitted and withdrew her hand. “I saw you do it, so assumed it must be helpful.”
“It’s only helpful if you know what to look for. Does his head feel hot to your touch?”
“Yes, a little.”
“A little is okay. If it felt extremely hot, that would be bad.”
“But his skin is white again,” Kayla said. “He’s not talking. He seems worse.”
The early morning light shone through the open cabin door of Brandon’s shuttle on to Alan’s pale face and half-closed eyelids. Out of the three of them, Alan was the only one who got much sleep—but, as Kayla pointed out, he didn’t look so good.
Brandon was glad they were here, but just as disappointed as Kayla that they ended up having to wait for daybreak.
“Come on,” Brandon said. “It should be safe enough to travel now. Take a fully-charged hand laser with you.”
“What for?” Kayla asked.
“Serpents. Keep an eye out for them on the ground. I’ll watch the air.”
Kayla instantly withdrew all her limbs, formed a ball with her body, and scooted herself farther into the interior of the shuttle.
“Come on, Kayla. I need you.” Brandon lifted Alan out of the shuttle and stood him on his feet. Alan responded and took several steps, then stopped—but said nothing. Kayla stayed in place in the cabin and remained silent as well.
“I don’t blame you for being afraid of snakes,” Brandon said. “I am, too. But let’s look at this logically. You weren’t afraid of those drones attacking us. You’re good, Kayla—real good. Best shots I’ve ever seen, and I’ve been around a little. The sun’s coming up so we can see clearly, and the ground is mostly barren here. We’re actually very close to Landen, so it’s not likely we’ll encounter any. But if we do, they don’t stand much of a chance against us. I’m a decent shot myself.”
“Can …can I stay here and guard the shuttle?” was all Kayla said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Brandon looked up to the plateau where the village was, and then saw movement along the ridge behind them, coming from Landen. It appeared to be a small caravan.
“Looks like our problem may be solved, anyway. I think a ride is coming.”
Brandon was right. The locals shortly arrived, but Kayla stayed inside the shuttle cabin. It was a small caravan—three Landen Sheen, but they came on five yuquin. It looked like someone would still have to walk, unless Kayla was willing to squeeze in with Alan and ride double.
One of them said, “Tulros, Brandon Foss.” They were dressed in traditional grey cloaks. The bright light from their skin was not so distinct in the morning sun.
Brandon didn’t recognize any of them. “Tulros,” he said, and bowed. “Thank you for coming out. There’s one more of us in the shuttle. Kayla, come out here!”
Brandon saw Kayla’s head pop out the cabin door. But when she saw the yuquin, it quickly retreated again.
“Please let me stay here and guard the ship, Brandon.” Her plea sounded pathetic. Brandon knew the best thing for her was to come out and face her fears. She needed to get over whatever this phobia was she had.
On the other hand, they were short one animal, Alan was sicker, and they could move faster without a pedestrian.
“All right Kayla,” Brandon said. “I’ll come back and check on you in a bit. There’s still some food and plenty of water on board—”
Before he finished speaking she closed the cabin door from the inside.
Alan finally spoke when Brandon urged him to mount the yuquin, but it was only to argue. He wanted to walk. His protest was feeble and hardly convincing. Brandon insisted he ride and helped him mount.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” the Sheen who had greeted Brandon said as they began riding up towards the ridge.
Brandon tried to look at him closer amidst the jostling of the yuquin and making sure Alan stayed mounted.
“No, but you seem familiar. Did Madkin3 send you?”
“Yes. My father asked us to meet you after receiving your messages. I understand your young friend has acquired an affliction after being submerged in a swamp. We will do what we can for him.”
Brandon smiled. “Madkin5. It’s been so long. You were much younger when I last saw you. Your father I have seen more recently. The passage of time is deceiving—a decade has escaped already. I look forward to sitting with him.”
Madkin5 shook his head. “Then you are going to be disappointed. He’s not here.”
Brandon cocked his head.
“He has moved to the elder colony,” Madkin5 explained. “He felt it was time. He’s over a hundred now.”
“I had no idea he was that old.”
“We Sheen age well,” Madkin5 said. “And we are capable of having children much later in life than the natives, as was my case. Especially in hot climates such as we have here. That, unfortunately, is changing for the worse as the atmospheric conditions of our world decline.”
“Disappointed is not a strong enough word,” Brandon said. “Vanquished is more appropriate. I greatly desire to visit the elder colony and see him.”
“Perhaps I can take you there on another occasion.” Madkin5 reached over to the mane on Alan’s yuquin’s neck and pulled it up and away from a small bush on the ground. “It will be an unorthodox visit, but I think we can pull it off, given your stature among my people.”
The small natural depression in the back of a yuquin was ideal for holding a single rider in place, but Alan still wavered some—so Brandon and Madkin5 rode next to him on both sides in case he fell. He didn’t, and they made it to the stables on the north side of Landen without any real trouble. There they dismounted and followed Madkin5 on foot.
Not surprisingly, he led them to the center of the village and had them sit before the pillar of the law; that magnificently tall, black quarner stone that displayed the primary Erob principles etched on its flat face. This is where Brandon had been healed of his snakebite wound so long ago.
Alan refused to sit and wanted to keep walking. Madkin5 found that to be noteworthy, and began asking him questions.
“Why do you wish to continue walking, Alan?”
“It feels good to walk,” Alan said.
“Good how? Can you describe how it’s good?”
Alan looked at the great black rock towering above him and his expression changed to one of wonder.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“This is the pillar of the law, our greatest artifact. Can you read what it says?”
“I recognize some of the writings from school.”
Madkin5 seemed impressed. “I’m happy to learn they still teach something of the ancient Amulen languages in the universities. Especially at an Amulen school.”
“It feels good because it makes the air stop floating away,” Alan said. He then appeared to notice Brandon and the three Sheen staring up at him curiously from the ground.
“Walking,” Alan continued. “It makes the air stop swirling and floating away. Everything stays in place when I walk. Otherwise, space is moving out, always moving, and it goes forever and I cannot find a place in it and wish to dissolve.”
Madkin5 nodded. “I understand. Alan, when you look at the rock, does the air stay in place?”
Alan was looking back at the rock before he even asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s something solid. It makes everything else stay still. I like the rock.”
“Do you know what’s causing his condition?” Brandon asked.
“I think so,” Madkin5 said. “I know the sensation he describes. He’s becoming detached from the foundation of his consciousness, and glimpsing our universe as it really is: expanding, ever-changing, vast, and inconceivable. Sentient beings such as ourselves are incapable of even beginning to grasp it. When we are accidentally shown flashes of it, we cannot handle it. It’s terribly disconcerting. We want to disintegrate and become nothing. This is our way of hiding from it. I experie
nced this myself once when I fell asleep too close to a fire. A piece of wood fell out and burned next to my head, raising my body temperature much too high. It took me several days to discover the cure and recover.”
“What was the cure?” Brandon asked. He was suddenly optimistic.
Madkin5 only motioned towards the pillar.
Brandon followed his eyes. “The rock?”
Madkin5 cocked his head ever-so-slightly. “Well, yes, if you wish to phrase it that way—the rock is the cure for everything. One must discover it for themselves, though. It seems your young friend has been leading himself to the remedy for his ailment. He intrinsically knows what he needs to do. We must enable him to do it.”
“The rock is good,” Alan said. “It stays in place, and makes everything else come to it.”
Brandon suddenly remembered how the rock saved him when he was so close to death. He found himself drawn to it now, same as Alan. Memories and emotions flooded his mind, especially thoughts of his old friend Madkin3. Brandon let too much time go by without seeing him, and now he was gone from this place. If Brandon didn’t do something proactive, he might never see him again.
Then there was Arkan9 unexpectedly reappearing after 25 years, seeing Brandon for only an hour, and then abruptly leaving again. Hardly a day went by when Brandon didn’t think on some teaching of Arkan9’s. Would the few words he had spoken two days ago be sufficient meditation fodder for the next quarter-century? They may indeed, but this was ridiculous. Brandon needed to take action to visit his important friends. How could such long intervals of time be allowed to elapse? What had he been doing all this time that was so important he ignored friendships, the most valuable gift in life?
The universe. It was not a definable entity. Alan and Madkin5 were right. How could sentient beings exist inside something that didn’t even stay in place? How could we find each other from day to day, when objects themselves are further displaced with every passing second?
Jumper and the game. The game was the instrument of an evil force. The Sheen recognized this and avoided it. So how was it that these new Belle Sheen advocated it, even to the point of promotion? Why was Belle-ub overseeing his new council from such a lofty position when Erob law taught humility and balance?
All these different alien races, all smitten with the game, all here. A new enemy had come, too. One with powerful and unique weapons. An unknown enemy. An enemy who was difficult to see. The game was a known enemy. The unknown enemy had arrived at the same time the known enemy was making its grandest public appearance. Only a fool would consider that a chance occurrence. Olut6 was wise in his suspicions.
Jumper shouldn’t play the game, but Brandon understood why he wanted to. Brandon’s own addiction to games was a sobering reminder that balance was sometimes achieved through keeping aware of the undesirable elements in your environment. One cannot live in a perpetual state of bliss. It simply wasn’t obtainable—and even if it was, that would be a woefully unbalanced position from which to navigate life. Truth be told, Brandon felt a tug himself when he saw that giant frame unveiled. He would never allow himself to play it. He knew what it was, and had seen what it does. But Jumper was a new generation, and part of every man’s education was touching a hot stove for the first time. A parent can warn their children to their heart’s content, but eventually that child needs to touch that hot stove themselves. It was an essential part of life’s education.
When all was said and done, if Jumper was dead set on playing in that tournament, Brandon was rooting for him to win.
*
There were no forfeited first-round matches. The competitors were all in their assigned seats early. Eleven of the twelve “regular” game sets on the lower field were occupied as all 22 players prepared for the first round battle.
The enticing final game contraption towered above them in the center of the field. The Latian champion sitting across the table from Jumper looked so relaxed he almost seemed disinterested. Jumper didn’t think cool-headedness was their natural disposition after witnessing the Latian leader in the council yesterday. It was more likely a deliberate game face. Jumper wasn’t about to let it affect him. Not after having played in the Sinlo Mountains.
Speaking of which, the Sinlo Mountain champion was at the table next to Jumper’s. When Jumper first noticed him there, they exchanged nods. Jumper was glad for him, despite the personal trouble he had with the mountain dwellers. When he saw him progressing in the playoffs yesterday, Jumper had privately been pulling for him. He was, after all, the only player Jumper knew. Now look at him. He had beaten everyone, and was playing today as the representative champion for all the Torian natives. He would, no doubt, have a significant cheering section. Jumper, not so much.
An impressive crowd of more than twenty different races filled the stadium seats. They were noisy until Belle-ub quieted them down with a speech in the final minutes before the event was scheduled to start. He welcomed all the players and spectators, preached about galactic peace for a minute or two, and then explained the structure of the tournament.
There was a time incentive for the first two rounds. This was devised in order to neatly reduce the field to four for the semi-finals. The first three winners declared in the first round would get to skip the second round and move directly to the third round. The first winner declared in the second round would get to skip the third round and move directly to the semi-finals. Jumper wasn’t sure which time incentive was better, being as there would only be four games in the second round. Either way, those procuring the time awards only needed to win two games to make the semi-finals. Anyone else would need to win three.
Jumper and his human friends back at the colony had tried introducing time elements to the game in the past. Some of the guys affectionately referred to it as speed polwar. It didn’t work out all that well, and, in Jumper’s opinion, took something vital away from the game. The victors found they were robbed of the intense euphoria that came with an unforced game victory, and the losers were not so overwhelmed with complete dejection. Some of the guys liked it that way, especially the weaker players.
Not Jumper. He doubted the game would have achieved a fraction of its popularity if it were kept on a forced timer. So he wasn’t particularly motivated by the time incentives. But his opponents might be. How could he use that to his advantage?
“Finally,” Belle-ub said, “I will remind the audience to keep their cheering subdued most of the time. When you see the video screens light up in red it means quiet down! Good luck to all the champion players. The game frames will light automatically in a few moments, and then you may begin.”
Many of the players could be seen hunched over in anticipation, obviously wanting to get a jump on trying for a time award. They stayed in that position an uncomfortably long time, though, as the game frames did not turn on.
Jumper heard a loud noise growing. At first he thought it was the crowd lifting a roar for the opening moves, but then he realized it was coming from the sky. Jumper looked up.
Twelve spaceships came into view overhead in a tight formation. None of them were Torian. They were all different from another, each from a different world, a dozen unique spacecraft all flying together as a squadron. They buzzed the stadium so close their passing thunder rattled the game frames. Then the crowd noise came, replacing the roar of the planes with an upheaval of their own.
The game frames lit up. The crowd noise continued for ten seconds or so until the big video screens turned red. It promptly quieted again.
Jumper had drawn the straight pieces so he moved second, which meant naturally starting from a defensive position. Most players considered the curved pieces to have a slight advantage, being given the opening momentum, but Jumper actually preferred the straight. His opponent, of course, didn’t know that.
The other players were moving and opening patterns filled the game frames all around them. But Jumper’s opponent only sat there, staring at Jumper. This guy was ice-blooded
. Jumper soon realized he could kiss the first-round time award goodbye. He didn’t care much about that anyway. But of course, his opponent didn’t know that.
Finally, the Latian placed his first piece in the frame. It was a standard opening move, albeit one of the less popular. Jumper reacted instantly. He wanted him to think he cared about the time incentive. The Latian moved his second piece in slowly as well, to the standard place. Jumper reacted quickly again, and leaned forward, feigning a desire for speed.
Jumper’s move completed the standard pattern for this particular opening. It was one of the more cavalier openings, which incurred a lot of early risk on both sides. This was the point where the curved-piece player needed to break in one direction or another to dictate the angle of further developments and resulting tempo of play. There were several conservative ways to go from here, or a couple of wilder ones.
The Latian chose one of the wilder ones. He placed a new piece away from the rest in an open area, but within bridging distance from both his first two moves. Most players, in Jumper’s experience, would shy away from this course. It was dangerous, and even skilled players could be blindsided early on by connections they didn’t see coming. As it so happened, this variation was one of Jumper’s and Alan’s favorites to play around with. They had explored it well and were familiar with most of its traps. Of course, the Latian didn’t know that.
*
“You know the primary Erob principles?” Madkin5 asked.
“We learned the Erob Principles in school,” Alan replied, never taking his eyes off the pillar. “Jumper and I studied them on our own, too, to see if we could master them, because we knew Brandon highly regarded them. Jumper always wanted to be like Brandon, even though Jumper doesn’t believe in prophets.”
Brandon wasn’t sure whether he liked hearing that or not.
“Did you master them?” Madkin5 asked.
Alan shrugged. “Who can say? Good enough for us, I guess. It all seemed obvious to me, anyway. I don’t have them memorized anymore, and I don’t think Jumper does, either. But I do remember they were all about the way intelligent beings should treat each other. That’s what made it so easy. They’re about taming our pride, and, in particular, not holding ourselves in higher esteem than we hold others. Honestly, what I got out of it all was to consider the priorities of others and give them equal weight with my own.”