by James Somers
Wynn was completely perplexed. He had been quite sure of his senses and now he was out here cutting air in the dark like a fool. Suddenly he sensed something again, but it was a different form. He could clearly sense a bathosphore coming up behind him. He whirled again, expecting to find it there, but again there was nothing.
“What’s going on here?” he muttered.
Then he heard something approaching, rolling across the ground. He looked to see a wooden ball twice the size of his fist rolling toward him. Simultaneously there were six others coming from directions all round him. He could sense that they were nothing more than wood and yet they were under some control. He realized what was going on just as the balls leapt off the ground to attack him.
He brought his blade to bear as he dodged several of the fast moving objects that began to swirl about him. As they came at him he struck them each in turn, disintegrating them until only one was left. As it came at him again, he seized it with his own mind, halting its advance.
“Alright, Kale, where are you?”
Then he sensed someone coming from behind to attack and he turned to find nothing again. Realizing another trick he turned back in time to meet the real attacker’s ignited kemsticks. The dark clad figure was furiously flourishing double sticks at him. He tried to meet the strikes, but they were so fast the light blurred together like a wall of neon in the dark. How had his attacker masked his presence so well and made Wynn sense other creatures instead?
Wynn was beginning to lose ground in the fight and pushed out with his mind against the attacker. The figure sailed backward through the air, flipped over under control and landed on his feet again. Then he linked the ends of the kemsticks together, forming a staff with kemblades at either end.
The attacker sent the staff spinning at his head. He ducked below as it passed inches over his head and thrust the tip of his blade upward to slice both of the linked hilts. The weapon fell into pieces as the dispersion fields shut down and it spun off to the ground. Wynn looked back to find Kale was gone.
“So, trying to get a little surprise practice in, hmm?” he said to himself as he extinguished his blade with a sly smile and walked back into his house. He was amazed by the young man’s ability to disguise his presence and trick Wynn’s senses so effectively. I think the trials tomorrow will be very interesting indeed.
WHEN Mirah had prepared the morning meal she called for Tiet, then she walked to their son’s room to call him. The door opened, and beyond, in the large room that contained a bed, some personal effects and room enough for personal training—sat her thirteen year old son, Kale, polishing up his personal set of kemsticks. He didn’t look up as she came in.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Are you hungry Sweetheart?”
“In a minute. I have to finish prepping for the trials.”
“Today’s the day, are you excited?”
He looked back and smiled then. “Is Father eating a big breakfast? He’s going to need it today!”
“I think your father has been ready for this day since the day you were born.”
“He won’t go easy on me, will he?”
“He loves you more than just about anyone. Knowing how much this means, he won’t let up at all.”
“Good.”
Mirah turned and walked back to the dining room, leaving Kale to finish his preparations. This day was the biggest day in a young Barudii’s life; the trials confirmed one as a man and a warrior, worthy to fight in real combat if necessary.
He had eagerly awaited the coming of this day, his thirteenth birthday, for several years now as he trained side by side with his father and Wynn Gareth. Though they were the only three Barudii known to be living, the tradition of training and trials to manhood continued.
He was looking forward to this. He was required by tradition to fight a group of elder warriors and since Wynn and his father were the only ones available they would be the ones to fight. According to archives on the trials, very few of the young warriors facing the test ever defeated the elders testing them. They only were expected to show their abilities as young men. But Kale had no such expectation; he planned to surprise his elders today.
COMMANDER Zurig looked at himself in the mirrored door of the lift as he ascended to his private meeting with the Vice Commander of Armed Services, Estall of the Aolene clan. He opened his mouth and examined the inner lining of his mouth and teeth which shifted tones quickly to pink flesh from a greenish hue that was not human. His eyes glared, then settled to the appearance of the man Zurig had once been when he was still completely human—that had not been so long ago.
The lift stopped at the appropriate floor of the auspicious Gladstone tower where the Vice Commander had his residence. Zurig was one of the few men able to gain such a meeting with Estall and that was very important. It was exactly the reason Lucin had chosen to use his form for the task. He had told Estall that the meeting was necessary because of dissension that was building within the Council of Twelve and the Vorn constituents under them concerning the rule of King Tiet.
And while there was truly a dissension building among the council, Lucin knew exactly what forces were at work to cause it and was glad for it. Now it was necessary to add another piece of the puzzle for gaining the power he wanted. Everything was going according to his plan.
He walked out of the lift and found the door to Estall’s quarters, which just happened to take up the entire twentieth floor of the tower. Two guards were in place at the entrance, but they quickly stepped aside when they recognized Zurig. After all, he was their commanding officer. One of them entered the proper code and the foyer door slid open allowing him to enter. The door beyond was partially of glass and Estall himself answered it.
He motioned for Zurig to come inside as he greeted him in civilian attire.
“How are you doing, my friend?”
“Well, as you know, things are disturbing of late.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I fear things may turn worse than we’ve expected. The Council has all been challenging the king’s decisions regarding the rule of the Vorn. And the rift between the Castillian population and the Vorn population has been growing as well. The word on the street among the Vorn civilians is that they should have someone from among their own race ruling over them.”
Estall listened, his expression grim.
“I don’t know how long it will be before the council makes an outright move to disassociate themselves from Tiet’s leadership and elect their own.”
“It still doesn’t seem hopeless to me,” said Estall. “The Vorn warriors within the military are still loyal to the king. That has to have a positive influence on the whole situation.”
“I’m not sure that will do it; you may be a bit detached from the men as the Vice Commander. My own observations have been more telling. Behind closed doors many of the Vorn warriors are changing their views about Tiet and that’s probably due to their civilian loved ones and loyalty to the all Vorn council.”
“I had no idea it had gotten so far even among my warriors. What can we do, Zurig?”
“Perhaps we can maintain some control over the situation if Tiet were persuaded to make some of the concessions the Council has been asking him for.”
“He’ll never give in to those demands!” said Estall. “Frankly, they’re ridiculous.”
“I understand what you’re saying, but if he doesn’t compromise with them, we could be looking at best at a break between our races again and at worst a civil war.”
“Do you really think they would take it that far?”
“If they feel as strongly about the issues as they’re presenting to the public, then who knows what they’ll do.”
“They’ve already created a rift between themselves and the Horva; all the Horva took their families and settled back near Nagon-Toth because of it. It’s just racial hatred, pure and simple, and there was never a good reason for it. The Horva made peace with us and
they would never attack us.”
“That may be so, but the Vorn still perceive a threat and they’re acting on their beliefs; right or wrong,” said Zurig. “And with Tiet unwilling to break his affiliations with Grod and the Horva, what else can we expect?”
Estall still looked grim as he got up. “Excuse me a moment.”
He went to the restroom down the hall, leaving Zurig there on the sofa. But he did not remain there. When Estall opened the door of the restroom, Zurig was there glaring at him. Before he could ask the man what he wanted, Zurig’s hand smashed into his face.
He proceeded to push him back into the restroom and the door shut behind him. His hand covered Estall’s mouth as he shoved his head back into the mirror on the wall; cracking it upon its mount. Zurig’s hand then proceeded to morph and push further into his throat. Estall struggled but his old friend had overwhelming strength to subdue him. A lack of oxygen soon claimed him as consciousness faded and all went black.
THE intercom on Daooth’s shuttle came to life with an incoming message. He tapped the panel and a video image of Ultis Thau, the council delegate for the city of Onnith, appeared on the panel.
“Daooth, we are convening an emergency session of the Council in two hours. Your presence is required.”
Daooth showed a look of disapproval on is face. “Councilman, I have a previous meeting that I must attend during that time, is there any way that I could be excused and briefed later?”
“No.”
Daooth looked put-off by the lack of flexibility being shown.
“I would remind you that as a representative of the Council your first duty is to us—”
“I was under the impression I dwelt under the authority of the King first and foremost, as does the Council,” he interrupted.
“Your duty should be to your people first!” shot back Ultis. “As for the King’s authority over this council, that is entirely questionable. You will report to the Council in two hours.”
“I’m sorry, Councilman, your transmission is breaking up…”
“Daooth, we—,” he cut the transmission off. He still did not understand the radical change of view spreading through the Council of Twelve toward Tiet’s rule. Gradually more and more council members had come to view the Horva under Grod’s command as a threat.
There had been no reason at all for the change of mind; it had come about mysteriously. Once the Council subscribed to it, the civilian population of the Vorn began to be swayed by it as well. Having been unwilling to sever the peace between himself and the Horva, Tiet was quickly branded as a traitor to the Vorn and his leadership had become the target of constant scrutiny of late. It didn’t take much insight to see that the Council would soon move to remove Tiet’s title. The threat of civil war was even floating around, and it was becoming dangerous to be caught between sides—as Daooth was in his position as Council representative to the King.
In his own mind he believed Tiet was right to hold fast to the peace. Grod, whatever he may have been before the Baruk war, was certainly no threat to the Vorn now.
He had actually taken the whole situation quite well and caused his warriors to return to the lands near Nagon-Toth rather than stir the pot of conflict. Many of the warriors, including Grod, had taken wives from among the Vorn and started families in the time after the war. When they pulled out they had taken their families with them and had not made any effort to reintegrate back into society.
Castillian and Vorn relations had certainly suffered because of the situation, with the Vorn generally following the Council and the Castillians unanimously holding Tiet’s position of reconciliation. The situation was growing more volatile by the hour.
Daooth’s shuttle careened around an outcropping of rocks and the fortress of Nagon-Toth came into view. Grod had agreed to provide a place for the trials to be held today. It was hard to believe thirteen years had already passed since the birth of Tiet and Mirah’s son.
Kale was certainly proving to be a child to be proud of; following in his father’s footsteps. It would be nice to one day see the young man lead—if there remained a people to lead, anyway.
He landed the shuttle on a landing pad at Nagon-Toth and upon exiting was greeted by General Grod himself.
“General how are you?”
“I’m well, my friend, and you?”
“Things have been better.”
“Ah, the Council still vilifies us—as usual?”
Daooth only smiled through his sarcastic expression.
“Don’t worry, Daooth; we’ll manage to get through all of this. I’ve seen Tiet handle more dangerous situations than these.”
“Yes, but public opinion can be a sly enemy to defeat.”
“True. Anyway today is a happy day. Let’s try to put those matters away for today and enjoy it for the family’s sake.”
They walked on toward the site chosen for the trials of Kale Soone, which lay beyond the fortress’ perimeter wall. The area was a nearby crater site that allowed those assembled as spectators to line the rim for a fantastic view of the action a hundred feet below in the hollow.
Tiet and Wynn were standing at one end where they prepared for their attack against Kale, who remained at the opposite end of the crater floor. Between them were large hunks of rock that had collapsed out of the crater wall and remained where they fell.
Kale was feeling very confident. He could sense his father and Wynn at the opposite end of the crater talking with one another. He could sense their awareness of him as well; their minds as they took in the surroundings in detail. He did not perform any physical exercises to prepare, but his mind was alive with activity, taking in every inch of the battlefield available to him, even the weather around him. It was of particular interest to him at the moment. He looked up to the overcast sky that was the prelude to a coming storm. No matter the rain, if it came they would not stop the trials. One must be ready for any situation and use every opportunity afforded by it. Wynn had mentioned that to him on many occasions and Kale was a very good student.
Kale watched the dark clouds hanging overhead as heat lightening flashed through them. Excellent, he thought as he pulled two of his four kemsticks to his hands. Then he began to walk out into the floor of the crater toward his adversaries.
Tiet and Wynn talked strategy a little, but mostly they bubbled over Kale’s progress and it was easy to see their mutual pride in the young man.
“I have to warn you that Kale came by last night and pulled an interesting stunt on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Somehow he was able to persuade my senses that a feral Horva was coming through the courtyard and he completely masked his own presence from me.”
“Are you kidding, you!?”
“If I hadn’t figured out what he was doing just in time I could have been in the infirmary today instead of here with you.”
They both grinned delightfully, and then they turned toward Kale’s position across the crater.
“He’s moving,” said Wynn.
“Shall we?”
The two warriors moved out onto the crater floor. Tiet took to the air and landed upon one of the huge pieces of rock covering the ground. Wynn stayed to the ground and began to weave between the rocks toward their prey.
As Tiet crossed part of an outcropping he suddenly lost sense of Kale; as though he had simply vanished. He looked over the rock protruding in front of him and could not see him.
“Wynn, I’ve lost him! I can’t sense him!”
“Be careful,” said Wynn from below Tiet’s position. “I told you, he’s gotten sneaky.”
Tiet brought his blade to bear. He was grinning the whole time. As the proud father of this warrior coming of age, he couldn’t help it. He could sense the worry from Mirah on the crater rim above them. She doted on the boy as much as any mother could, and as a concerned parent, the trials worried her. Kale was growing up, and it required him to develop more and more independence especially aft
er today.
Thinking of Mirah above them, Tiet almost didn’t see the piece of rock skimming low across the surface of his perch. Quickly, he found a piece of his own and hurtled it mentally into the path of the projectile; smashing them both to rubble. Now, where had it come from?
LUCIN looked at his own reflection in a mirror on his shuttle’s restroom wall. A greenish tint faded to fleshy white across his conjunctiva. He opened his mouth to examine his mucus membranes. The greenish tint faded to pink as Lucin looked over his form as the Vice Commander Estall one last time while the shuttle landed at Nagon-Toth.
He was late for the trials. They had evidently already begun. Lucin could see beyond to the trial site at the nearby crater specified in his invitation. Castillians and Horva warriors alike lined the crater rim. The trials were scheduled to take place on the crater floor.
Lucin hurried on toward the crater site. If all went well, his friend the king would not ask too many questions about his late arrival. He hoped they might have a private meeting sometime after the post trial celebration. Tiet was the key to accomplishing the goal Lucin strove for; control of the planet and its population. Fifteen years of continuous work infiltrating human society, it was all proceeding according to his plan.
MIRAH searched along the crater floor for her son. He had disappeared somewhere among the huge boulders strewn along the ground below. Ranul patted his worried daughter’s shoulder in support. She could see Tiet atop one of the rocks brandishing his blade. Don’t hurt him, Tiet, she thought. Wynn was nowhere in sight. He too had disappeared among the rocks.