“Nice chap,” said Mark who remembered that when they first arrived he was on the verge of throttling Goshwam when he threw a handful of green powder in Blackie’s face. “He’s a little unpredictable, but nice.”
“I say we head for town,” said Nita with a pleading tone in her shaky voice. “I’ve seen all of the Merculoid I want to see.”
“I agree, let’s get out of here,” responded Amelia from the car.
Wayne walked to the Nomad and got in the driver’s seat as Amelia slid to the middle. Mark looked like he had seen a ghost as he got in the front passenger’s seat and heard a desperate wailing sound drifting on the wind. Nita, Joules and Blackie heard it too, and jumped in the backseat.
“Wayne, get us out of here,” said Blackie as he looked back toward the lake and glimpsed a fleeting shadow near the flattened sand carts.
Wayne had driven about five minutes when Mark asked if anyone else was hungry. “I am starving,” he said, “it’s been ages since lunch.”
“I am too,” said Nita, “but I’m covered in sand. How about we clean up and meet at the hotel restaurant?”
Wayne eased the Nomad into the hotel parking lot where an employee was sweeping up leaves from a tall Endothi tree. As Wayne got out of the car the employee asked, “So does it always rub the road?”
“Excuse me?” replied Wayne.
“Your transport, does it always rub the road; it’s a bit odd isn’t it?” he asked.
“It only rubs the road when there are roads,” replied Wayne. “In between universes and dimensions, it cruises with no rubbing whatsoever.” Wayne’s reply dripped with sarcasm.
Nita and Amelia were standing near the rear of the Nomad listening to Wayne. Amelia rolled her eyes and Nita stifled a laugh. The employee had no idea how to take Wayne’s comment, wished them a pleasant evening, and moved to another area of the parking lot.
“That’ll teach him Wayne,” said Mark, “he won’t be picking on the Nomad again.”
Wayne flicked a jab that Mark avoided while enacting a slow-motion routine – leaning back and moving his arms at his sides like he was avoiding a stream of bullets. Wayne just shook his head and said, “Ridiculous Mark.”
“Ridiculous? I’ve been practicing that move.”
“You should keep practicing.”
“Mark, if you’re finished talking about your ballet, let’s get cleaned up and eat,” remarked Blackie.
“Yeah, I’m hungry,” replied Mark.
The girls headed to their room. “I’m going up to shower,” said Blackie and followed the girls into the hotel.
“We’ll be right behind you,” said Wayne who turned to Mark as Blackie entered the hotel.
“Mark, I’ve got to ask you a question,” said Wayne. “What’s the deal with your brother and that unbelievable diatribe he delivered in the hardware store this morning? Blackie told that story like he believed he had been there; like he had been in some long-forgotten war; it was kind of freaky.”
Mark hesitated. “Wayne’s my best friend,” he thought, “I’m telling him.”
“When Blackie was younger, a friend of his disappeared from our school’s parking lot; he was down about it for weeks,” began Mark. “Dad thought he was depressed and needed a diversion so he enrolled him in a class at the base to study stick fighting.” Wayne nodded, remembering Blackie grabbing a baton at the museum on Gafcon-49 and using it to confront one of the Shumbrans.
“Blackie has skills, Wayne, but he doesn’t mention it, talk about it, show it, in fact he acts like he’s had no training at all. Anyway, the stick training seemed to help him out of the doldrums, so Dad let him continue as long as he wanted. Blackie must have been pretty good, good enough in fact to talk his way into other classes; classes for military personnel, classes with state of the art virtual reality simulations of all types of battle field conditions – ALL types Wayne.”
“He told me the simulations were beyond interactive; they delivered sounds, smells, and even dispensed pain and injury when the situation called for it. Dad didn’t know about it of course, but when he found out about the extra training and saw the report outlining Blackie’s progress he put a stop to it. By that time Blackie had already completed almost every training module they had. He trained there for years. That’s where Blackie learned to stick fight, but it went way beyond stick fighting. That story you heard at Theadelbaum’s was part of a training module; when the bullets were gone, they used bayonets and swords.”
“Anyway, after a few years of training at the base he started teaching me some of the techniques in the backyard with Dad’s landscaping machetes; I promised him I’d keep it on the down-low. Mom and Dad didn’t know; we made sure of that. I’m pretty good, Wayne; I could have helped take on those louts in the hardware store, but Blackie wouldn’t have needed my help or yours. Let me put it this way – he was at no risk of being hurt by those three thugs, zero – they didn’t have a chance.”
“How is it that you never mentioned this to your best friend?” asked Wayne who sounded more than a little annoyed.
“We don’t talk about it,” answered Mark. “That was the agreement when Blackie offered to show me what he was learning. We didn’t want to romanticize it or do anything to increase the likelihood of needing, or wanting, to use those skills. Sometimes if you have a hammer every problem looks like a nail. So, we decided to be 'hammerless' so to speak. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Ever have to hammer something?” asked Wayne.
“No, I haven’t. It turns out most of the time you can walk softly and just carry a big stick.”
“What about Blackie?”
“None that he has mentioned; like I said, we don’t talk about it.”
“What about training, how do you stay up?” asked Wayne.
“I don’t very well. Blackie does. Try slicing a machete through the air and stopping it an inch from a watermelon, like he did to that thug’s face at the hardware store. You, me and practically everyone else are going to end up with sliced melon. Not Blackie. Fortunately, he has a very long fuse and enough sense to avoid being bated into a scrape. I pity the poor fool who pushes him too far.”
Wayne was suspicious of what Mark had told him. He expected him to burst out laughing. “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”
“Not in the least. Sometimes at night when he’s in a deep sleep he murmurs things, things about the virtual reality training, things that are pretty intense. I’ve seen him bolt upright in bed with his arms crossed like he was bracing for an attack. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s spooky when it does. Enough of that, let’s clean-up for dinner.”
CHAPTER SIX
DINNER AND THEADELBAUM’S
Mark and Wayne talked about the Merculoid all the way to the room. “I can’t believe how big that thing looked, even from where we were,” said Mark.
“Can you imagine how big it must have looked to Blackie and Joules,” replied Wayne, “they were right under its feet when it crashed out of the water. That was a pretty slick move on Blackie’s part; throwing snow on those three thugs then rousing Acondwa and having Joules protect them in her shield.”
“Yeah, dynamic field engagement analysis; Blackie’s good at it,” said Mark.
“Dynamic what?” asked Wayne.
“Dynamic field engagement analysis,” repeated Mark, “the process of looking at a pliable situation and deciding how to best approach the problem with the least risk and highest probability of success in the shortest amount of time.”
“How do you define success?” asked Wayne.
“Success is defined in the mission specifications. If you meet those, then the field engagement was successful,” replied Mark.
“Do you think Joules could have just handled those three thugs by herself?” asked Wayne.
“Sure, she could have; we both witnessed at the museum what she’s capable of. But I’d be willing to bet one of Blackie’s objectives was to avoid the necess
ity of Joules having to hurt someone. You can tell violence is not in her nature, and that museum incident extracted a heavy toll on her. We would have done the same thing for Amelia and Nita, given a choice.”
“Do you think either of those last two guys escaped?” asked Wayne.
“No, not a chance, not based on what I read at the museum, and Nita’s story about her professor’s dad and uncle, not to mention Goshwam’s remarks. I don’t think we’ll be seeing them again,” said Mark, “but I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone, even those three jerks.”
When they reached their hotel suite Wayne ducked into his room to shower. Mark skirted his room and went to Blackie’s, who was sitting on a side chair putting on his socks. He stood stiffly in the doorway.
“I told Wayne.”
“Okay,” replied Blackie nonchalantly.
“That’s it, just okay?”
“Honestly, I figured you had already told him. He’s your best friend and we both trust Wayne so it’s no problem. Let’s not make a big deal out of it,” replied Blackie
“My sentiments exactly,” said Mark, who turned to go to his room and shower.
“Besides, it’s my fault it even came up; I shouldn’t have popped off in the hardware store,” said Blackie.
“They were threatening to skewer that clerk, and Wayne, and me,” responded Mark, “and you backed them down. That’s not popping off Blackie, that’s using your training the way it was meant to be used. I’m going to shower and then grab some dinner.”
After dressing, they all met at the restaurant and requested seating at an outside table. “Certainly,” replied the waiter, “and we’ve just checked the trees earlier. You won’t be seeing a Merculoid today.”
“Good, that’s the last thing we want to see today,” said Nita, who seemed to have recovered from the incident at the lake. “To start could you bring us a large plate of Cavenderbosh, a round of Gorgas Cavitas,” to which she got everyone’s nod of approval, “and two sprots of Blue Glacier Water infused with Lemma fruit.”
“Of course, I’ll put your order in immediately,” replied the waiter who vanished into the hotel restaurant.
“You’re feeling better Nita?” asked Mark.
“Yeah,” replied Nita. “I started thinking about the Merculoids and realized nothing I’ve read ever indicated they purposely went stalking people. They attack when they feel their territory is being invaded; they’re no different than any other animal. In fact, that’s not substantially different from us is it? Who wouldn’t protect their home and family from an invader?”
“I agree,” said Wayne, “but I wouldn’t chase an intruder a mile and a half to eat him.” Nita smiled, which was a relief to Mark who had been worried about how the lake incident had upset her.
“I suppose not, but that’s what makes us people and them animals isn’t it, Wayne?”
“Is it?” asked Blackie. “Or do we just draw lines around certain things to encourage more socially acceptable behavior? Mr. Lecter wasn’t a Merculoid; that’s why we find his actions so offensive.”
“Who’s Mr. Lecter?” asked Nita.
“Some chap who made a habit of eating his dinner guests,” said Mark.
“At least he didn’t evaluate their social skills and hang them on skewers in his dining room like Vlad the Impaler,” offered Wayne.
“Are we really having THIS conversation before dinner?” said Amelia.
For a moment everyone was quiet. They sat there looking at the sky that once again displayed a spectacular array of colors. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of these sunsets,” said Nita.
“It is beautiful,” said Blackie. “Not to change the subject, and I apologize for the bluntness, but I need to say this before I forget; I think we are being followed.”
“Followed by whom?” said Joules who sounded spooked. She had a right to be. Ever since her father used his position in the government on Gafcon-49 to table and effectively kill an energy bill supported by the Shumbrans there had been two attempts on her life.
“I’ve been catching glimpses of something ever since we arrived in town,” said Blackie. “I didn’t want to mention it until I was certain I wasn’t having hallucinations. Goshwam told me today it isn’t a hallucination, he has seen it twice, both times when we were in the desert by the lake and he thought it was following us. I caught a glimpse of it this morning by the hotel door as we were leaving, and again on the sidewalk by the light pole across from Theadelbaum’s hardware. Then, I saw it again at the lake hovering over a sand dune just before those three sand riders pulled up.”
“You saw what exactly?” asked Wayne. “A Shumbran?”
“Not a Shumbran,” said Mark. “I would have recognized one of them immediately.”
“No, not a Shumbran; I think it was a Desredeedese Shade but I never got a clear, good look at it.”
“Why would a Desredeedese Shade be following us?” asked Joules.
“There was one flying next to the Nomad on the road when we left the park,” said Wayne. “Remember? Maybe this isn’t a coincidence.”
Blackie considered how to carefully phrase his response. He didn’t want to single out Joules as the Shumbran’s target. They were all involved in what happened at the museum, but there was no dodging the fact that Joules had been the mark.
“Joules, does your dad do business with Shades?” asked Blackie as casually as he could. “Maybe he asked them to keep an eye on us after the museum incident.”
“That’s possible. But I don’t know for sure. Dad doesn’t discuss his 'business' partners with the family since most of them are confidential; you know, advisors to parliament, the military, even to the Prime. Dad’s a stickler for protocol. But it wouldn’t be outside his jurisdiction to assign a bodyguard or someone to follow me if he thought it was necessary.”
Joules hesitated for a brief moment. There was an uncomfortableness in the air and she knew why. Everyone was ignoring the white elephant in the room and she knew how to handle that; just like her dad. When a situation needed to be addressed he did it directly and succinctly, she would too.
“The fact that someone has tried twice to kill me because I’m related to the man who quashed their energy bill, and doesn’t seem to mind who else is killed or maimed in the process, seems to be more than sufficient justification for a bodyguard don’t you think?” There, it was out. Now they didn’t have to dance around the notion that someone or something was after Joules; she could be attacked at any moment, along with anyone and everyone who happened to be with her.
“I don’t know how you feel about it Joules, but just the idea of having to have a bodyguard around would make me edgy. Your dad chose the Shades because they’re stealthy,” said Nita. “They seem to keep themselves out of sight most of the time. A Shade could monitor our whereabouts and situations and be almost undetectable. Although I’m not sure what one could do if something were to go wrong?”
“Something tells me they have more tools at their discretion than we know about,” said Wayne. But just the ability to shift time and space could be pretty handy in a pinch.”
“Not to cloud the issue even more, but how do we know it’s here to help, or who its helping?” said Blackie. “Maybe it wasn’t trying to keep us from sliding off the road, maybe it was trying to help us over the edge.”
“I thought you said Shades don’t care for Shumbrans.” said Amelia. “Why would a Shade be helping them?”
“As a rule, they find Shumbrans offensive based on what I read,” said Blackie, “but Perlucidians don’t murder each other either and that didn’t stop Mikna from gunning down Vekta in front of a whole room full of people in the Phoenix Hotel did it? All I’m saying is we don’t know what we’re dealing with and we can’t assume anything; not allegiances, not intent, nothing, until we talk to this Shade.”
“Talk to him? Are you out of your mind?” retorted Mark. “First, how does that work – anyone here know how to speak Shade? Secondly, if he�
��s here for some bad intent then getting close to him seems like the worst thing we could do. Besides how do we protect ourselves?”
“Not we,” replied Blackie, “me.”
“No way; that’s nuts Blackie, there has to be another way to do this,” said Mark. “And, meeting with him without some kind of protection, in light of what you just said, seems risky at best and borderline foolish. Nita, help me out here.”
“It’s all of the above, but it may be the only way to sort it out,” replied Nita.
“Wayne, you want to weigh in on this?” asked Mark.
Before Wayne could answer Amelia interjected, “Let me just say this before Wayne responds – there is no perfect solution. But we should consider this: Blackie is the one who overheard the Perlucidians at the Phoenix and understood them; according to the police that’s very rare. Blackie is the one Goshwam communicated with telepathically, and whether he knew it or not at the time, Blackie initiated the dialogue while he was incoherent. Finally, except for when it was flying right next the Nomad when Wayne saw him, Blackie is the only one of us that has seen the Shade, or, he’s the only one the Shade revealed himself to. Sorry for the intrusion Wayne, I just wanted to put that out there for consideration before I lost my train of thought.”
Wayne waited to make sure Amelia was finished before he began. “I don’t know much about Shades,” started Wayne, “but my instincts tell me if it was here to harm any of us there isn’t much we could do to stop it. I think it was helping keep the Nomad on the road and I think it stayed with us on purpose when we drove into that mixing zone on the mountain. It must have been on or near the Nomad on Volcanon when we made the jump here, to Lindone.”
“My guess is that Mr. Livingston asked the Shades to keep an eye on Joules and that’s the reason he stayed with us. I also don’t think it has been hiding from everyone except Blackie so much as Blackie’s heightened awareness of his surroundings resulted in him seeing the Shade when no one else noticed. I think Blackie should try to meet with him.”
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