Tokus Numas

by D. W. Rigsby

  That was Petro being himself; he seemed to always help, even if the person asking didn’t quite deserve it. Kad took the jug, drank, and then handed it back. Petro took another long drink, filling his gut.

  “I’m dressing in layers. There’s no telling how long we’ll be out in the cold today,” Petro said.

  “I know. What do you think they meant about going to search for our meal? I mean, what grows up here in these mountains besides elk, deerlings, and bears?” Kad slipped on his boots.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out. Have you been in the mountains before?” Petro pulled on his jacket.

  “No; where I live it’s mostly flat. The nearest mountains are a full day’s ride. I did hunt a lot; been doing that since I was young. You think we’re going hunting?” Kad asked, pulling his coat on.

  “Maybe, probably. Makes sense, being there’s probably not much, if anything, that grows up here for us to eat. Come on, let’s get out to the staging area,” Petro said and led the way out the door.

  The two of them passed the others and saw their fellow recruits getting dressed, but they were wearing different attire. One had on a light jacket, another just a thick tunic, and another had put on a pair of medium boots instead of his cold-weather boots. Jon was the only other recruit dressed like Petro and Kad when he had joined them in the hall headed toward the staging area.

  “You guys sleep all right?” Jon asked.

  “Sure, if sleeping on stone slab is all right,” Kad said, twisting at the waist to work out the kinks.

  The three of them walked out into the staging room and were shortly joined by the others. Vetus Sepher and Vetus Mont strolled into the room.

  Kad and Petro immediately formed into a line side by side, and the rest of them fell in behind them.

  “Spread out into a semicircle, facing us,” Vetus Mont said.

  The group did as they were told and fanned out into a semicircle.

  Vetus Sepher cleared his throat. “Basics are what we’ll go over today. This is your first day in the Gulch, and winter is nearly upon us. When the mountains peaks and valleys are covered, the danger increases. So much can happen in the mountains, and if you aren’t careful, you may end up facing death.”

  The recruits exchanged looks.

  “Our job is to get you ready, and to do it quick. We don’t have a lot of time, so you’ll need to learn as you go and apply what you learn as soon as you learn it. Application is the key to success. If you learn a new skill, and you don’t use it, then it’s just taking up space in your head.” Vetus Sepher tapped the side of his head.

  “We are just going to learn a few basics, like how to find food, how to create a fire, how to build shelter, how to avoid hypothermia, and how to navigate. Up here in the mountains, especially in the winter, the untrained and the ill die. We are here to prepare you to be trained, to not become ill. First off, Nalum, Bran, and Sha—you’ve dressed poorly for the day. Go back, put on several layers, and make sure you are wearing your heavy boots,” Vetus Sepher said.

  The three of them took off down the hall.

  “And you three seemed to have spent time outside,” Vetus Mont said as he walked around Petro, Kad, and Jon. “Make sure the others learn as you learn. There’s no room to keep information to yourself; if you know something, share it. Drop and give me twenty.”

  Petro, Kad, and Jon dropped and pushed. The ground was cold on their hands, and Petro realized he’d forgotten his gloves. He grunted out the last few push-ups and stood. “Vetus Mont, I’ve forgotten my gloves; may I go and retrieve them?” Petro stood completely still, his feet together and his arms straight and tight to their sides. It was something he’d learned during his training with the house guard, required of him while he was in Castle Dugual.

  “Hmmm…formal training, I see. That’s good, Petro. Go on, and be quick,” Vetus Mont said, eyeing Petro.

  Petro darted off down the hall. He passed Bran’s door, stopped, backed up, and said, “Don’t forget your gloves.” He said the same to Nalum and Sha as he went by the next room and then into his own room.

  He heard one of them say, “Sure thing, wardo.”

  Petro was growing tired of the names, and he suspected it was Sha who said it. He rummaged for his gloves, found them, was about to leave when he felt a prick on his hand. There was something in his glove, and it stung. He stopped, looked at it, and could see it was a tiny needle embedded in his glove. Petro quickly walked out of the room and examined the needle as he made his way back to the group. Maybe someone left it in there after the gloves were made? He tried to rationalize the situation, but there wasn’t any real reason he could find for a needle to be in his glove.

  When he got back, everyone was in formation, facing the other direction. Petro moved to the front, next to Kad, and they marched through the room and out through the first set of doors.

  Outside, the light from the sun had barely showed itself. A cold, hard, brisk wind cut across the valley. The young men shivered and pulled their clothing in tighter.

  Vetus Sepher stepped forward and faced Petro. “You’re seriously ill,” he said.

  Petro was wide-eyed. “Um…I feel fine, Vetus,” he said.

  The instructor approached Petro, took his gloves, pulled the needle out, and held it up for all to see. “You are preparing to become a Numa, and you’ve already failed to realize you have enemies. Enemies who want to injury you or just outright kill you. If you, as a Numa, are on a mission, and your enemy follows, he will not reveal himself; he will not utter one word of his disdain for you or show you his intent. Your enemy lurks in the shadow, follows your every move, and waits for the right moment. He may trail you for days, weeks, or even months, but in the end he will do what he’s set out to do. Injury or death—one or the other. You ask, why injury? We are speaking of a disabling injury, one that could keep you from doing the work you were purposed to do or even leave you lobotomized so you don’t have a clue who you are any longer.” He put the needle into a small leather pouch at his side.

  Petro felt he had failed somehow, that he should have known what the needle was about when he first found it. Although it would not have mattered, as he stuck himself with it anyway. Was it true? Did the Numas have many enemies willing to injure or kill them?

  “Petro, you are severely injured; the extent of your injury is that you cannot walk, and you have a fever. Your brothers need to find you shelter, create a fire, and gather food. You must have someone with you at all times; if you need to make water—your brother has to help you,” Vetus Sepher said.

  A disgusted look went around the recruits.

  Vetus Mont took over the instructions. “All right; first thing is, you need to make a gurney. It’s easy. You need two long poles—branches work, or young saplings; and you’ll need a blanket or coat; and you need to find a way to fasten it to the poles. We’ve taken some liberty in helping you out. When you are in the wilderness, always carry a knife, and if you don’t have one, we will teach you how to make one from the materials around you.” Vetus Mont handed out fixed-blade knives in leather sheaths to the recruits.

  Jon, Bran, Nalum, Sha, Kad, and even Petro stared at Vetus Mont.

  Vetus Mont clapped his hands together. “Get going.”

  Petro lay down on the ground; it was cold to the touch. He waited while the rest of his brothers went about finding the material they needed to create the gurney. Everyone had gone off except for Vetus Mont.

  “You see.” Vetus Mont knelt beside him. “They all left you. Each and every one of them. Do you know what happens to an injured person in the wilderness?” He had a cheerless voice. “Wolves, a mountain cat, or maybe a bear comes along. They’ve sniffed you out. You’re all alone, and you are easy prey. They’ll first come within a few meters, testing to see what you’ll do; but when they figure out you can’t move and are not much of a threat, they start to eat you. They won’t kill you, no, not right away. There’s no need to kill you. They know all
they need to do is eat you, and then you’ll die.”

  Vetus Mont took out a whistle and blew it. It was loud and long, and within moments the others trickled back in, along with Vetus Sepher.

  “Do you see this?” Vetus Mont pointed to Petro. “He was eaten by wolves. A pack of them sniffed him out and knew he was injured, and injured prey make for easy targets. They ripped his guts out first, an agonizing ordeal to undergo. Then the wolves ate his stomach, his intestines, while he watched for several minutes, maybe longer. Next the wolves took off chunks of his legs and parts of his face, but yet he still was alive, enduring the torture inflicted upon him because his brothers left him behind.” Vetus Mont eyes flashed. “Drop.”

  All the recruits dropped to the uneven ground; some had positioned their feet going up the slope, others’ feet pointed down the slope, and they started to push.

  “Up, down, up, down,” Vetus Mont said in a low voice, keeping cadence.

  Vetus Sepher walked around the recruits. “An easy task, yet not one of you could carry it out. You are no longer at home, lilies; you left the safety of your mother when you came here to Tokus Numas. There are no second chances; there are only mistakes, which we pay for, and the price can be considerable.”

  The recruits struggled to keep going. Jon fell onto his stomach but got back into his push-up position. Bran was sweating terribly. Nalum was spitting out dirt from where he’d slipped and face-planted a moment before he got back into his push-ups. Kad was doing fine and humming to himself.

  Vetus Mont came over to Kad. “You think this is a game?” He got down into a push-up position in front of Kad and looked into his eyes. “Keep up. Up, down, up, down, up down, up down, up, down.” Vetus Mont sped up his cadence to where he was doing a push-up every second. Kad kept pace, and his humming dissipated to heavy breathing.

  Petro looked on with a sort of smile on his face, watching Kad hold his own.

  Vetus Mont would not stop; he kept going like a machine with Kad right there with him. Up, down, up, down, up, down. It had been over two minutes, and the two of them kept pace. The others had all stopped pushing to watch but remained in their push-up position. Petro thought there was some admiration in Vetus Sepher’s eyes for Kad.

  Vetus Mont slowed his pace, and Kad did, too. Now they were taking several seconds to get one push-up. Kad’s arms finally started to tremble, and then Vetus Mont leaped up. “Get up, Kad,” he said. Kad slowly got to his feet. “The rest of you get up. You too, Petro.”

  Petro got up and brushed off his clothes. The brothers started to head off, but Petro didn’t move. “Hey.” They looked back at him. “Who’s doing what?”

  There were looks of uncertainty with raised eyebrows, shoulder shrugs, and blank stares. Sha’s face held a sneer, and his eyes bored into Petro’s.

  “All right. We have several things to do. Build a shelter—Jon and Bran, you take that task. Build a fire—first, who knows how to create a fire?” No one raised their hands. Petro looked over to Vetus Sepher. “Are you able to teach us how to build a fire?” Vetus Sepher gave a nod. “All right, Kad and I will take the fire. Now we need food, but I think that can come later. The two main things are fire and shelter for now, and then water. We’ll need to locate a source or get water somehow. Sha and Nalum, you two should take that task.”

  There were nods all around, and then the brothers dispersed into different directions. There was one more thing Petro needed to say. “Jon, where are you going to build the shelter?”

  Jon pointed to his right, over by some boulders.

  “OK, let’s all meet there when we are done.”

  The young men moved out to start their day, to learn from their experience, and to find out what it meant to be brothers.

  Oh, White Sea, oh, White Sea, come near me, for I hear your song and see your need; oh, White Sea, oh, White Sea, come near me, as I dream of a day when, out in a storm in your waters, I will find calm; and home there I should go and be no more.

  —From Collection of Tales at Sea, by the boatmen of White Sea

  Petro and Kad sat in a room, just the two of them, at a pair of old desks made of mahogany and steel. Petro shifted his backside to get more comfortable, but it wasn’t working. Kad seemed right at home, as though the hard chair was more a comforter than a solid surface pressing on his flesh.

  Master Domato—tall, thin, eyes that curved down, and a balding head that only added to his distinct look—was speaking.

  “Where to begin?” Master Domato said, standing in front of Kad and Petro. “Oh, I know. Let’s start with the electron. Yes, that’s it.” He went up to the chalkboard, drew out a circle, and labeled it “electron.” “Electrons are what make long-distance communications possible, our computing devices possible, even our own brains possible; for without the electron, there would be nothing.”

  Petro looked over at Kad and sort of gave him the expression that he didn’t want to be there.

  “Excuse me—Petro, is it?” Master Domato said. He came closer to him.

  “Yes, that’s correct, Master Domato,” Petro said and sat up straight.

  Master Domato placed a marble on his desk, and it rolled around, gradually made its way off the table, and bounced on the floor.

  “Did you see that?” Master Domato said.

  Petro nodded.

  “Good. The electron also seeks the path of least resistance, moving through conductors such as water, metal, even flesh. Our own bodies have created a system inside to carry electrons in order to signal what the body must do. Close the hand”—Master Domato closed his hand—“a signal comes from the mind, sent over the nervous system, and the hand closes.”

  Master Domato smacked Petro’s hand. “And for pain, it sends the signal back up to the brain.”

  Master Domato walked away, and Petro rubbed his hand. He watched to see what the older man would do and wondered if this truly was the place he belonged. This class was highly technical and made his head hurt more than his hand did now.

  “We talk of water, of air, of the necessities of life to sustain life, but we neglect to speak about the electron. We take it for granted, use it for our own means, and just don’t see the connection at all. However, without a structure, the electron does nothing but move from place to place with no purpose, no meaning for its existence.”

  Kad raised an eyebrow and looked at Petro cross-eyed. Petro stifled a chuckle.

  Master Domato’s back was to them. He drew on the board once more. “The electron travels near the speed of light at three hundred million meters per second. Which means we can communicate rapidly across great distances if we give the electron structure and direct its course of motion.” Master Domato drew an image shaped in a half circle, with short, squiggly lines shooting out in different directions.

  “This represents waves of energy directed outward from an antenna. The purpose of the antennae is to direct energy and to modulate the information in such a way as to ensure that when it reaches the other end, the receiver can decipher the information received,” he said.

  Petro’s eyes glazed over. There was no way he was going to get this; it didn’t make any kind of sense to him at all. He raised his hand. “Master Domato,” he said.

  Master Domato turned around and faced the two of them. He had an inquisitive look as he waited for Petro to speak.

  “I’m not sure I am ready for this sort of class,” Petro said.

  Master Domato came over to Petro and stood in front of his desk. “Stand up,” he said.

  Petro stood. He felt uncomfortable, not knowing what Master Domato was about to do. He hoped he wasn’t going to demonstrate how the hand works again. He glanced over to Kad, who looked equally uncomfortable.

  “Sit down,” Master Domato said.

  Petro sat down.

  “You see. You understood me and did as I asked you to do,” Master Domato said and walked back over to the chalkboard.

  Petro exchanged a confused looked with Kad. Kad just
shrugged and leaned forward to write something down in his notebook.

  “Master Domato, I’m not sure what you mean. Yes, I understood you, but I have failed to understand the meaning behind it,” Petro said and let out a sigh.

  The old instructor played with the chalk in his hand, thinking of what to say. “I gave you instruction, and you complied. When you were young and did not know the words to use when speaking with your mother or father, you could not have possibly done what they might have asked you to do. Just as now you understood me—but let’s pretend you did not, as if you had not yet developed the understanding of the words I used. Stand up and sit down. No matter how many times I might repeat those words, you would not understand me, because you had not yet developed the understanding for the sounds formed. Words are sounds and hold meaning, just as the words I’ve spoken to you just now. What I’m talking about here on the board, I know you don’t understand. I know you have not yet developed the vocabulary or the understanding to converse with me on this topic. I know this, yet I still use these sounds, these words to convey what I mean. Just as a mother and father do with their child. You did not know what ‘stop’ or ‘don’t touch’ meant at one time in your life, and your mother probably didn’t use different sounds to convey her meaning. She used the words ‘stop’ and ‘don’t touch,’ so you in turn would learn them over time,” he said.

  Petro understood what Master Domato was saying, and he relaxed. A thought came into his mind. Was seeing the future like this? Was it a matter of learning how to command it? Like his hand—he closed his hand, opened it, and then raised it.

  “Master Domato,” Petro said and hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “Umm…is there a way to use electrons to…umm…see the future?” Petro asked. Immediately he felt like an idiot for saying it. He pulled his hand down.

  “You mean predictive computations?”

  Petro wasn’t sure what that meant, and he wasn’t about to ask, either.