by Reiter
“Just two?” Dungias asked. He wanted to make sure he was receiving an accurate retelling of the story. “And how many patrol ships were there?” Nugar chuckled, feeling the anxiousness coming from his student, and he focused even more on what his Mistress had told him when he was last the student.
“The BroSohnti used small gunships to do their scouting, but they never strayed too far from their mother-ship with which they docked for long range travel purposes and to resupply. This fleet had two such mother-ships, and each could function with a thinned crew of a thousand. Three score gunships were assigned to each mother-ship.
“The pair of Founders had split off one from the other and each took to a mother-ship. How they battled past the wave of gunships is another matter of argumentation, but the dark sky was made bright when the mother-ships were destroyed. All in all, it took the Founders two s’tonki, which they called hours, to contend with the enemy. It was later revealed that one s’tonki and thirty-seven tonki were used so that the Founders could talk to BroSohnti, as they were interested in knowing their intentions. Once the parley was exhausted, the fighting began.”
“And lasted twenty-three tonki!” Dungias added.
“Twenty-three tonki,” Nugar confirmed. “They called them minutes, but all of that is Founder Speak.”
“How could so much be done in so little time?”
“I am told that most of the time was taken in the Founders making their way to the centers of each mother-ship before they caused the BroSohnti power systems to overload,” Nugar answered.
“One would think the BroSohnti would have had something in the way of onboard ship defenses,” Dungias said.
“They did,” Nugar explained, placing his hand on Dungias’ shoulder. “They did, my boy.
“But we should be about the reason why you are here in this room,” Nugar said, patting Dungias and walking to the edge of the lit area. “After your performance with Kynsada, I have decided to increase your load!
“This is your room, Dungi!” Nugar announced. “Along one wall will be your most basic needs and that will be your only wall of comfort. There will be a bathing area, a bed, a regenerator and a table where you will sit and eat. In short, young one, when you are not resting, eating, bathing, healing or relieving yourself, you will be training! The classes will be brought to you in two-s’tonki increments. You will then have fifteen tonki to rest before beginning the next class. After four classes you will eat… for thirty tonki. On your second eating cycle, you will be given five s’tonki in which to sleep if you so choose. If not, you may engage in any activity you so wish that this facility, and its current personnel, can provide. Are there any questions?”
“What of the projections you were giving me?”
“The telepathic instruction? They will continue,” Nugar assured. “Mostly while you are resting or sleeping. Is there anything else you would like to ask?”
“What is the first lesson?”
“Onkorro will teach you basic weapons while I discuss the properties of Physical Science,” Nugar replied. “Are you ready?” Dungias merely smiled and licked his lips. The silent challenge was received and the Traveler began his lecture.
Within the calendar the Vinthur shared with the Malgovi, one star-term was thirty s’tonki long. Nugar knew when he set the pace for the training schedule that it was overly ambitious. What he did not know was that he would have to call an end to the curriculum because there was no quit in Dungias! When the young Malgovi was first forced to stop and take a mandatory sleep break, his body was shaking from the fatigue… four star-terms into the regimen. By the fifth tonki of his rest cycle, where he opted to meditate instead of sleep, the shaking had stopped. A s’tonki into the cycle and he had retained control of his breathing and had achieved a perfect meditative state. Onkorro muttered that he had seen machines fail from less stress.
For forty-seven star-terms, the training continued and Gamma became an incubator for the zygote that was Dungias’ mind. At one point he had four teachers talking to him, teaching him completely unrelated topics. Nugar did his best to keep his amazement from showing, but Onkorro and Kynsada had not received the training Nugar and Guyn had mastered, and Dungias had to have composed some estimation of how incredible they all thought he was. With the lessons including Mental Defenses, it became increasingly difficult to determine the young Malgovi’s thoughts.
While his performance was never less than satisfactory, Dungias exceeded at all forms of engineering, with his personal favorites being Spacecraft, Robotic and Nuclear Engineering. With the space Gamma afforded, he was able to build a small workbench where he dismantled the pistol Nugar had given him, examined each and every component of the weapon, and reassembled it to where it was heavier, sturdier and more powerful. His ability to aim and fire exceeded military Marksman qualifications; Onkorro quickly reached the point where he had to work hard to beat Dungias in a shooting contest, and his aims were not always met. Kynsada’s back met the floor more times than she cared to count, and though she held a sweeping number of victories over Dungias, he was no easy opponent and her victories came because whatever he was trying to do in combat was new to him and his form was not perfect. If he landed poorly from a jump or over-rotated, she had to make the most of those moments and deliver her most powerful blows. Guyn had taught nearly every member of the Starfire Team, but he would not share with them the fact that his best student was not a member of the Mal-Vin. Dungias was not a sponge. That metaphor implied a limit existed in regards to how much he could take into his mind. No, Dungias was a singularity and nothing escaped him. Instruction never had to be repeated and when there was repetition, it was due to the fact that his teachers were marking their places, making sure they had not missed anything.
In explaining the Star-Stride, Guyn was often forced to call an end to the class, only to be thwarted when his instruction came just before one of Dungias’ sleep-optional periods. The two grew close as Dungias’ studies grew more intense. Nugar had shared his Star-granted visions with the Exemplar, but Guyn cared little for that. The revelation of that vision was not why he was teaching Dungias; he trusted Nugar to see to the stuff of legend. Guyn was teaching a young spirit; one who could be a Star in his own right, if the Light would only show him the way. It would not be his body that would fail him, and it was to that claim where the Exemplar made his stand. He worked Dungias hard, but not to the point of hurting himself, even if stopping or slowing down brought argument from his pupil.
Teaching the young Malgovi was both simple and somewhat frightening. Translating the concept of the Star-Stride had slowed his instruction’s progress in the past, but perhaps the minds he had taught were too old, too fixed, too not Dungias’! When Guyn spoke of the inner energies which allowed them to move, thrive and live, Dungias was not confused or amazed; he considered it to be the simple preface of a hopefully complicated book. In applying those energies to increase the sensitivity of the six senses and the power of the living form, again the curve for Dungias was sharp and steep. The concepts were simple for him to grasp, he only had to become accustomed to the sensations of the Star-Stride. As time passed, their discourse faded and Dungias’ awareness grew to the point where he was already bowing to his teacher when the chime sounded. Their class time was over and Guyn returned the bow.
Guyn reached for the towel Dungias had fetched for him and he noticed a very pleasant smile on the youth’s face.
“Why are you smiling?” Guyn asked.
“A very interesting point has been made clear to me, Teacher Guyn.” Dungias started to towel himself off as Onkorro entered the chamber with what was supposed to be Dungias’ dinner.
“May I join you so that we can continue this discussion?” Guyn requested. Dungias was touched with the concept of his first dinner guest.
“Please,” Dungias said, pulling out the chair for Guyn. As they both took their seats, Dungias chuckled. “Shay-spawn,” he said.
“What?”
“We are shay-spawn, Dungias,” Guyn returned. “We simply do not let it get in our way.”
“Forgive me, Teacher Guyn, but I do not recall anyone here inserting a battery into my body.”
“That is because no one did,” Guyn said.
“Then explain this,” Dungias said, thrusting his flat palm toward the table. While the table itself was anchored to the floor for the Null-Gravity coursework Dungias was receiving, the tray Onkorro had set down was free to move across the table and it slid into Guyn’s hands. “No one is born without iro in them,” Dungias proclaimed. “At its simplest definition, life is an iro-form!”
“By the Stars indeed!” Guyn thought, looking at the tray. He lifted it and handed it back to Dungias. “Eat,” he directed. “You’re going to need your strength.” He got up from the table and turned to leave. With his back to his student, the Exemplar of Starfire sighed. “Do yourself a favor, my student: keep this truth to yourself.”
“Why should anyone hide the truth?” Dungias asked, a very clear tone of bitterness in his voice.
“And what would happen if you were to approach a scholar and tell them that the Founders were these people called Terrans?” Guyn asked. “Think Dungias, a single entity might be open to every facet of the universe. That door is forced closed the more people you add who are receiving those facets. Our people are proud and ultimately… arrogant. They would rather destroy you than actually contend with their truths. And if they manage that destruction, I would die destroying as many of them as I could.”
“Your passing at my cause is not what I wish,” Dungias said in a softer voice. “I see the wisdom of your trek, Teacher Guyn. There is a place and time for the truth. Here and now is fine. Out there and then… perhaps not.”
Guyn started for the door, walking as he always did. “Thank you, Dungias.” Once he was clear of the door and he was sure they had closed, Guyn stopped and took a position to strike the wall. He wanted to hit it… several times… but in the time he had spent with Dungias he had come to ask himself one thing: what had the wall done to deserve my fist, and the thing that made me strike it – is it removed after I land the blow? “Thank you indeed!” he sighed, lowering his hands and walking once more for his room. He was glad not to be the next instructor for Dungias. The lesson received already made the teacher feel he had much more to learn from his student.
We have to stop and be humble enough to understand that there is something called mystery.
Paulo Coelho
Their eyes darted from the walls, to the floor, to the shuttle, to other eyes that also did not want to hold a stare. Knowing that Nugar had spent the last few star-terms losing his patience, Dungias decided that someone needed to say something. Onkorro had already primed the engines for their departure. Guyn and Kynsada might have looked at one another more than they dared to look at Dungias, but each of them wanted the same thing: not to leave!
“I have not received the proper training to contend with this moment,” Dungias admitted. “The lessons on losing vital parts of my life were never covered by any of you.”
“Can you believe we will ever miss his chatter?” Kynsada asked, lifting her eyes to look at Dungias. He smiled at her quip before looking away. “I know I will!” she said as she walked to Dungias and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck. “That and much, much more.” Their embrace was strong and anything but brief. Kynsada leaned back to look in her student’s eyes. “You know, you don’t hit like a Malgovi.”
“No?”
“No,” she confirmed. “You hit like a Dungias, an altogether different caliber of life!”
“Now who is the poet?” Dungias asked before bringing Kynsada in for a kiss. If there was any surprise to speak of, it was obvious on the faces of Guyn and Onkorro alone. Kynsada’s moan and the way her hands moved to the back of Dungias’ head and neck demonstrated anything but astonishment.
“Have we covered exactly what all she taught him?” Onkorro whispered, receiving a soft but swift elbow to his arm.
When the two parted, Dungias looked into the face of the female Vinthur, committing the softness of her face to his memory as it was an aspect of her being that was seldom displayed. The two did not speak and it did not appear as there was a need for words. Guyn looked at Onkorro and gave the head gesture for him to say his goodbyes.
“Me?”
“If you think I’m going to follow that, you’re less mindful than I thought,” Guyn whispered. “Besides, rank has its privileges.”
“Yes… Exemplar,” Onkorro said through clenched teeth.
“I am glad we got to that lesson,” Kynsada said with a devilish smile. She had yet to open her eyes though. She was still savoring the moment. “You may be a student of the Traveler, but you are a man-at-arms to me, Dungias. It would be an honor to fight at your side.”
“Likewise, Kynsada, cherished friend and mentor,” Dungias said and Kynsada struggled to keep the tears at bay with the Vinthur status he had awarded her. She stepped back and allowed Onkorro to make his presentation.
“And for Onkorro, my beloved brother and trusted instructor, I have a gift.”
“That is all right, young Traveler,” Onkorro insisted. “I would just as soon do without a kiss. Think of what it’d do to Kynsada when it comes out that I kiss better than her.” Dungias chuckled as he reached into the small satchel he carried with him whenever he left the Gamma Chamber. He produced a wrapping.
“I would ask that you never lose this or your humor,” Dungias said with a smile. “If it is all the same to you, that is the name I have given it… Humor.”
Onkorro took the gift and quickly unwrapped it to see a weapons belt complete with a very fine holster and an energy pistol. Kynsada gasped and Guyn’s eyes squinted when the weapon was drawn. It gleamed in the low light, and nearly fell to the floor when Onkorro tried to twirl it about his finger.
“It’s made to fit your left hand,” Dungias explained and Guyn’s eyes relaxed. The Mal-Vin were required to wear the weapons issued to them. The left leg was designated for weapons of choice. “And the belt is to be worn for a left-handed draw.”
Onkorro tossed the gun to his left hand as the wrapping was moved to the right. He smiled brightly the moment the grip slapped against his palm. He twirled it three times, but it moved so quickly that only he knew the true count. He gripped the weapon and leveled it to firing position. Capacitors sounded off as they charged and the top of the gun reconfigured with a special sight.
“What is this?” Onkorro inquired, looking at Dungias. The young Malgovi smiled as he looked down at the wrapping. Onkorro looked down to see a set of goggles. Quickly donning them, the sight for the gun retracted and Onkorro wailed in delight, dropping the fabric used for the wrapping. Dungias quickly picked it up and folded it.
“What is wrong with you, fool?!” Kynsada barked.
“He is looking at the multi-spectral readout the goggles are giving him,” Dungias explained. Kynsada looked at Guyn who simply put his hands behind his back as he looked down. Dungias approached the two of them and offered the wrapping. “Please see to it that he keeps this. It is perfect for cleaning the weapon and the design specifications are laser-burned into the fibers.”
“While I find myself loving your sense of humor,” Onkorro said, still appraising the weapon. “… why did you pick the name Humor?”
“Because yours never missed,” Dungias replied.
Onkorro danced for a moment and then ran to Dungias, jumping into his arms. Dungias chuckled as he caught the excited soldier.
“Kynsada will simply have to live with the truth,” Onkorro said before kissing Dungias. When he was returned to the ground, he breathed through his mouth as he donned the belt. He sighed as he noticed two battery clips in pockets on the belt just behind the holster. When the buckle locked into place, it self-adjusted to Onkorro’s waist. “Thank you, my kommis
,” Onkorro said as he did not bother with trying to cover up a display of his emotions. The two embraced once more and the Starfire Point Man moved so that their Exemplar could approach.
“You have been an interesting mound of trouble from birth, haven’t you?” Guyn asked as he approached. His hand came from his back and he presented Dungias with a gift. “Don’t ever change!”
“I will keep to my truth and ask that you do the same,” Dungias said, reaching again into his satchel. He handed Guyn a fairly heavy wrapping as he received a very light and small one from the Exemplar. “Please, Master, go first.”
“I would argue that you have no masters, but I’m not sure I’m prepared to be proven wrong,” Guyn said as he unwrapped a pair of kraythe in sheaths with leg straps. The Malgovi knives were unbelievably sharp, and Guyn could immediately tell they were not fashioned of the common alloy used for archaic weaponry. “What sort of steel is this?”
“You can call it truth-steel,” Dungias replied. “I have a feeling there are a few people who will not be ready for them either. You will find they are effective… even against iro-forms.” The glare in Guyn’s eyes was piercing.
“When did you find the time?” Guyn asked.
“Your tour of the domicile must have been abridged,” Dungias said. “The forge in the cellar is quite impressive and with all of the drones and robots in service down there, it was simple enough to have the steel folded one thousand times. Making the alloy ori-formatic was what took the most time.”
“Tell me you kept some for yourself,” Guyn pleaded.
“Is my Master asking me to lie?” Dungias responded. “Because I will, to see to his request.”