by SW Matthews
Gill and Leef looked curiously at Pol, who just shrugged.
“For a long time that was the entire dream,” said the old man. “But then it grew. Once I reached the pale man I tried to speak to him, but he couldn’t hear me over the wind, and he seemed to be looking past me, at something behind me, so I turned around. Suddenly I was in the ocean. The water was rough and toxic. There were no fish in this sea, no life at all except for me. The salt water covered me and gagged me. For nearly a year I would wake thinking I had drowned.
“It reached the point where I did not want to sleep. But sleep will come whether you will it or not, so I tried harder to eradicate my dreams. Alcohol, medications, whatever I could do to try and sleep peacefully. Nothing worked. My life began to fall apart. My wife and children only annoyed me, and I lashed out at them. I began to miss work and came very close to being fired. I reached a point where I even considered ending my life, I was so miserable. But just as I was contemplating suicide, the dream changed again.
“Now, when I sank below the surface and struggled against inhaling the salty death, a strong hand lifted me from the water and held me above it. I choked and gagged but maintained my breath. I cried in the dream, so relieved was I to be saved. And when I managed to look upon my hero I saw another naked man, this one black as night. He swam effortlessly and placed me on the shore.
“When I was safely on the hot sand again, I looked between the two men, one in the white desert of despair, the other in the black sea of death. The world was dead, and just the three of us remained, unspeaking and unmoving, the rest of the world unchanging.”
“The dark one does sound like a hero,” Gill said. “He saved your life.”
“He did, Mr. Gill, and I slept peacefully for many months, knowing that he would save me, and I would not drown in my bed. And I began to analyze the dream. This was during the immediate aftermath of the cataclysm and the war, so I didn’t think it was unusual to be thinking about death, or the destruction of the earth. I wondered if the white man and the black man represented right and wrong, or good and evil, Yin and Yang, or even if it were a racial metaphor, but nothing seemed to make any sense. I talked to my wife about it, and even discussed it with my friends, but no explanation seemed to fit. Yet it was all I could think about, and it nearly drove me mad.
“My relationship with my family changed again. Now they felt sympathy for me. I felt as though I was burdening them for no good reason, so… I lied. I told them the dream stopped. But of course it didn’t, nor could I stop thinking about it. The dream kept coming to me, almost every night. Finally, one night before bed as I lay struggling to understand my own thoughts, I gave up. I decided I should be happy that my family and I were safe, and that I was sleeping well, even with the dream, and that everything was really good in my life. I told myself I should just try to be peaceful, and that I was very fortunate to only be worrying about a silly dream when all the world had suffered so much.
“That night, the dream changed again. This time, as I stood on the beach between the two men, grass began to grow at my feet, and trees began to sprout along the beach. The water became calm and lapped gently at my ankles. I knelt down, cupped some in my hand, and drank. The water was cold and pure. It was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. When I stood again, the two men were approaching each other and looking at the now bright blue sky.
“A third man then appeared, floating down from above. He too was naked, but bright green. He landed softly on the grass, and the three men clasped hands and looked at me. The pale one was on the right, holding hands with the green one in the middle, who in turn was holding hands with the dark one on the left. They stared at me, smiling and laughing. And then they disappeared into the sky, leaving me on the bank of the great lake, surrounded by lush vegetation and singing birds, with the sun shining on my face.”
Mr. Ken took a deep breath and smiled at the boys.
“I like this dream, Mr. Ken,” Leef said.
“I do too—now, Mr. Leef. I still have it nearly every night.”
“Have you figured out what it means?” Pol asked.
“That is the question, isn’t it? But as I have no facts that can explain it, I cannot tell you what it means. I can only tell you what I believe it means, which is difficult for a man of science like myself.” He looked down at his tea. “You see, I realized it was only when I gave up trying to understand the dream that the final piece was revealed. So I tried the same approach to understanding the full vision. I did not think about it. I simply accepted that I would have the dream, and expressed gratitude for all of the wonderful things in my life. And once again, when I stopped searching, the path appeared.”
Mr. Ken dug into the pocket of his tunic. He withdrew his hand and held it open before the boys. In the palm of his hand were three small figurines. One was carved out of white ivory, one from green jade, and one from black onyx.
He handed the ivory figure to Pol. “I believe the pale man represents rational thought.”
He gave the onyx figure to Gill. “And the dark man represents deliberate action.”
Gill smiled and looked at the small figure. “Yes, action!”
Mr. Ken smiled and handed the jade figure to Leef. “The green man represents the distillation of religion and philosophy, which is altruistic intention.”
Leef smiled and sat back, carefully cradling the figure.
Mr. Ken smiled and sat back also. “Only by using altruistic intention to link rational thought and deliberate action can the earth be saved—and in turn, all of us.”
He took a sip of his tea before continuing. “Once I accepted the meaning of the dream, or vision, my personal path became clear. I had to spread the word, to try to convince others of the truth. It turned out to be pretty easy. The people were starved for hope. They wanted to believe in something other than government oppression. Word traveled fast, and I gained many supporters, but the government was not happy with me or the movement, so they attempted to arrest me—even though I was not trying to create a religion. I was simply trying to convince people of a better way to think and act, to try and provide a better world for those who come after us. I didn’t talk of any gods or heaven or hell. I spoke of trusting your gut instincts, of not making decisions based on money, or lust, or gluttony. To think logically and plan your actions, considering how others will fare, not just you and yours. But they did not see it that way. So I had to flee. That was when I brought my family here. We started the first workshop in 2057.”
“You’ve been here for fifty-five years?” asked Pol.
“I have.”
“You’re one hundred and seven years old?”
“I am.”
“We’re older than we look, too,” said Leef.
“That’s right,” said Pol. “Mr. Ken, we are not the men from your vision. We were created in a lab—”
Mr. Ken held up his hands. “It does not matter, Mr. Pol. Who you are, where you came from, none of that matters. It is all in the past. All that matters is now, and what we do from here. You are the men from my vision. I see it all as clear as the morning sky.”
Mr. Bo appeared at the door with three sets of clothes. Black boots, pants, and shirt, white tunic, and green cloak, all sized for four-year-olds.
“Thank you, Mr. Bo,” said Mr. Ken as he stood.
Mr. Bo bowed and brought the clothes to the boys. “Please dress. We are to meet in the Great Workspace shortly.”
Leef started changing clothes immediately. “Who are we meeting?” he asked.
“Everyone,” replied Mr. Ken. “All one thousand residents of Workshop One will be there. We will also broadcast to the other nineteen workshops, as well as the Xanwiti who have not yet relocated to one of the shops.”
“How many Xanwiti are there?” asked Pol, also starting to change clothes.
“Close to twenty-five thousand, most of whom are in the twenty deserted monasteries we have taken over. A few are still in the cities throughou
t China, following the Xanwiti principles in secret, including some well-known business leaders who provide a great deal of money and supplies. Technological equipment, weapons, whatever we need.”
Gill fastened the belt around his white tunic. “What exactly do you all do here?” he asked.
“Everything,” Mr. Ken said. “We function as a small community, with doctors and bakers, butchers and farmers, just about everything except lawyers and police, as adherence to the Xanwiti principles makes them unnecessary. However, approximately eighty percent of all team members are trained as soldiers in preparation for the inevitable battle with China—which is close at hand.”
The boys were now dressed, and they walked with Mr. Ken and Mr. Bo down a hallway that seemed to go deeper into the mountain.
“Not everyone can be a soldier,” Mr. Ken continued. “I am too old, for example, and there are others who cannot fight because of age or disability. But all find a way to contribute.”
“What about Mr. Bo?” Gil asked.
“He’s one of our best fighters,” said Mr. Ken. “Trained in unarmed combat, as well as blunt and edged weapons, and firearms.”
“Is everyone called Mister?” Pol asked.
“Only the men, Mr. Pol. The woman are referred to as Ms., or Mrs., if they prefer. All other titles are irrelevant.”
“But you said you had doctors,” said Leef.
“That’s right, but titles are useless here. To be a member of the Xanwiti you must follow the principles, which states that you must put the needs of the many above yourself. That means everyone must achieve as much as they can personally, in order to be of the most use to the community. So those with an interest and proclivity for medicine study with our doctors, and those with an interest in engineering study with our engineers, and so forth. Occasionally we send students to school in China, but not usually.” Mr. Ken looked up. “But enough questions for now. We are here.”
Mr. Bo opened a door, and they passed through into an enormous cave packed with people, all sitting on benches and facing the door from which the boys emerged. The boys had stepped onto an elevated platform, and at the center of the platform stood three large statues that were very similar to the small figurines Mr. Ken had given them.
The boys stared in awe at the statues, then turned toward the crowd, which had fallen silent.
Mr. Ken walked to the center of the stage, in front of the statues. He smiled broadly as he addressed the assembled audience.
“Hello, my friends,” he said. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice. We don’t have a lot of time, so I will get right to the point.”
Pol looked out over the room. Every face, and a couple of video cameras, were focused on the smiling old man.
Mr. Ken continued. “The time has come for our march on Llasa and Kashgar. We will march as a show of force, but our intention will be peace.” He gestured to the statues behind him. “As you all know, our entire way of life is based upon the three fundamental principles of the Xanwiti, which are symbolized by these statues. The Pale Man of Rational Thought, the Dark Man of Deliberate Action, and the Jade Man of Altruistic Intention. Following these guidelines is what drives each and every one of us to achieve and prosper, and they will ensure the salvation of humanity, if enough people accept and follow them. However, never did I hope to suspect that the Three Wise Men would actually appear to us in living form.”
He motioned the three boys forward, and they slowly stepped up to join him.
Mr. Ken introduced them in turn. “This is Mr. Pol, Mr. Leef, and Mr. Gill. They have come to us in the hour of our greatest need. To compel the government leaders to listen to our pleas, and convince the people of China to join our ranks. These three boys justify our struggle against the continued abuse and neglect of our fellow humans, and the consumption of the earth that our political leaders enable.”
“These are the men from the vision?” came a voice from the crowd.
“Where did they come from?” came another.
Soon the vast room was full of voices, each shouting questions and concerns. Mr. Ken tried to answer, but his responses were lost in the noise.
Pol faced the crowd and raised his hands. “Please,” he said quietly. “Please, listen.”
Slowly the clamor began to die down. Eventually the room became quiet again, with everyone staring at the small, pale boy on the stage with his hands raised.
“I am Pol,” he said, lowering his arms. “I do not know if my brothers and I are the men from Mr. Ken’s vision. I did not know anything about him or his dream, or even the Xanwiti, until today. It is as shocking to us as it is to you that we are here. What I can tell you is that we were created with the intention of trying to save the human race, and that we were sent here on a mission of peace, to try and stop a battle that could kill millions of people. We need to get to Lhasa as soon as possible, and we ask for your assistance. If you help us, we will do our best to answer all of your questions, and to live up to your expectations.”
Pol looked over the silent crowd, then turned to Mr. Ken.
The old man smiled as he stepped forward and placed a hand on Pol’s shoulder. “The Xanwiti have been asked for help by the Pale Man of Rational Thought. How do we respond?”
A murmur throughout the gathering slowly grew into chants of, “PALE MAN, PALE MAN, PALE MAN!”
Chapter 41
Sepe had summoned the best hacker he had, who turned out to be a sixteen-year-old boy by the name of Porfirio.
“The kid is amazing,” boasted Sepe. “He is our information specialist. He has never failed a task. Last year I gave him a full-time position. He teaches others now. He likes to call himself the groupware guru.”
As Sepe was speaking, the door to the Nog opened, and a small, thin boy entered. The sides of the young man’s head were shaved, but the hair on top was long, spiked, and dyed bright purple. Both eyebrows were pierced, along with his left nostril and right lower lip. His ears were also laden with multiple piercings.
He flashed a bright white smile as he sat at the most powerful computer station in the Nog. Sepe, Rosie, and Doc gathered around him, with Kat standing behind, still in the exo-suit. Tuck remained at the back of the room, studying the map of Denver.
“That’s right,” he said. “I am the Data Lama. I will find you the answers to questions you did not even think to ask.”
“Thank you for helping us, Porfirio,” said Kat.
“No problemo, robot lady. And you can call me Firi.”
Kat smiled. “Okay… Firi. My name is Kat.”
Firi grinned. “Pussycat… I like it.”
“Just Kat will be fine,” Doc said.
“Okay, okay, that’s cool, Santa Claus.”
Doc smirked. “My name is Billy.”
“Right. Okay, Billy-Bob, what are we looking for?”
Doc suppressed a grin as he glanced back at Kat. “Okay. First of all, I want to try to find a Braxton drone that was launched from Denver this morning.”
Firi began typing. “I can get into the Braxton mainframe and find the tracker on—” He already had his answer. “What’s left of the drone is in the mountains around Lhasa, China.”
“Can you tell if anyone is with it?”
“No, it’s just a tracker beacon.”
“You know they’re fine, Dad,” said Rosie, rubbing her father’s arm.
Doc nodded.
“Can you get into the air force computers?” Kat asked.
The young man turned to look at her. “I’m sure I can. Why?”
“To see if they shot down the drone.”
“You think the UNA Air Force shot the drone down?” Firi asked.
“I will almost guarantee it, but I want to know for sure.”
The boy smiled as he turned back toward his computer screens. “All right, now we’re getting serious! I dig this kind of shit! Time to work some mystical mayhem on the mainframe! This’ll take a few minutes.”
As the young h
acker concentrated on his mission, Doc turned to his sister. “We’re already pretty sure Dad shot the drone down. Why do we need to check?”
“Proof, for when we meet with Zhen.”
“What?”
Kat turned to Sepe. “Do you have some fighters we could borrow? To help our friend?”
Sepe nodded thoughtfully and stroked his mustache. “Yes, yes, many fighters. You are welcome to any I have available. To which friend are you referring that needs help?”
“Andy and Piper,” Kat replied.
“The pilot?” asked Sepe.
“Yes, and his wife.”
“You want to save Andy, then have him fly us to China, to save the boys and complete the meeting,” said Rosie.
“Of course,” said Doc. “Piper removed all the tracking devices, and there’s no record of Andy having the helijet, so Dad won’t know anything about it.”
“That’s right,” Kat said. “It’ll be a long flight, but the helijet can do it. Then we can find the boys, complete the mission, and get out without anyone noticing. And we can give Zhen the new information regarding the drone, which he can threaten to expose to the media if Dad attacks.”
“We just need to get to Lakeland and save Andy and Piper,” said Rosie.
Doc turned toward Tuck. “Tuck? What do you think?”
Tuck turned away from the map. “You’ll need at least five good soldiers to take Bash out,” he replied with certainty. Clearly he had been listening to the entire conversation.
“You will have ten,” Sepe said.
“Well that’s a start,” Doc said. He looked at Kat. “So we just need to get a company helijet to take us to Lakeland. Simple as that?”
“Sure,” she said. “Dad will think we were just going back to hide. He’ll probably send some troops after us at some point, but by then we’ll be gone.”
“Here we go,” said Firi. “Looks like the air force fired one missile from a low-orbit platform around two a.m. China time.”
“Perfect,” said Kat. “Can you save that information for me?”
“Sure. Need anything else?”