The Acolytes of Crane Updated Edition

by Tew, J. D.

  The bully was doing well and hit it five consecutive times. When someone hits it five times in a row, the Jengitch freezes in front of him alone, and he can grab the Jengitch to make a direct attack on anyone else in the group. Kind of like a pelt in a game of hacky or dodgeball.

  Once Drangle grabbed the ball, everyone’s readiness was intensified for the incoming blow. He made his choice, and of course, he threw it at me. The Jengitch zinged past my head, and I thought I was out of danger for now. How wrong I was! As everyone else in the Jengitch group looked on in astonishment, until the ball mechanically clicked behind me, spun rapidly around my torso, and wrapped me in monofilament. Grunting and struggling, my arms were immobile in what appeared to be clear plastic fishing line. Ugh!

  The game thundered on. One by one, as Drangle peered on with a mischievous grin, more opponents were kicked out of the game.

  Now it was down to Dan, alone against the Bromel bully! While I was watching intently, I used my rolesk to have the Dietons release me from my monofilament. One of the Bromels looked over at me and called me a show-off for daring to use my rolesk.

  It was an epic match. The bully and Dan were battling for the win. After an unexpected bounce off the Bromel’s foot, Dan lunged to kick it up with his toe. Dan blazed it toward Drangle, and just before it hit, the Jengitch fired four taser-like devices that zapped the seven-foot tall Bromel, causing him to collapse to the ground. I ran over to Dan, and we exchanged high fives.

  The Bromel stood up, then bent his massive frame in order to ogle into Dan’s face. ‘You are a twerp, that was pure luck,’ he said. ‘No one ever has beaten me on his first game. I’ll be watching you!’

  Dan swore, ‘Screw you, you are big and slow, and you can watch me all you want dude, but it isn’t going to help you win. I don’t get lucky. So you can shove it!’ I yanked Dan’s arm, afraid that there would be a fighting match.

  I admonished him. ‘Dan, you can’t talk that way to people, even if they are acting that way. We have to respect him. We might need these guys at some point.’

  Eventually, Mariah, Dan, Liam, Lincoln, and I re-united, a little overwhelmed. The consensus was that we were all tired and overloaded with the Urilian culture. We all gathered near our sleeping quarters.

  I gave a little speech to my team. ‘Well, let’s call it a night. I want everyone to use their IPU to practice martial arts. It is important for us to get better with our fighting skills. You can tell the other groups already have been at it. So please put an hour of effort into martial arts each night; it does not matter to me which one you choose. Then, as you rest for bed, spend an hour into researching the technology behind your devices, like Nezatron said. Alright, see ya tomorrow.’

  We all dispersed to our rooms for the night. I began to walk away, and I heard someone tailing behind me.

  ‘Theodore, I really didn’t see you much in the Hall of Efran…’

  I stood there, enchanted by Tez once again. “You mean in the room of wild life?’

  ‘Yes, did you have a good evening? Did you enjoy yourself?’ she asked me. She was a sight for tired eyes, and pleasingly exotic. It may be hard for someone to believe that an alien covered in hair was beautiful, but she was. She appeared as huggable as a cuddly teddy bear. Her voice was exotic and uplifting, and her slender figure showed off her slight bosom and hips. Her eyes were like emeralds, green and beguiling. Her presence held me captivated; any other thoughts I had were banished.

  ‘Yeah, I mean no, well, it was good. I just, wow, you are—’

  ‘Beautiful?’ she asked, her eyes twinkling. She was clearly enjoying my attention.

  ‘Yeah, very. I am sorry. I am not trying to be a dork, and I just think you are great.’ My face turned red; I badly wanted to exit before I wilted in front of her. Mumbling, I barely sounded articulate. ‘I have some studying to do in my room. I better get going.’

  I thought about turning around to break off eye contact, but I just couldn’t. Tez still looked at me expectantly. ‘Theodore, can I call you Theo for short?’

  My heart thumped like crazy at these words of intimacy. ‘Yeah—sure! You’d be the first!’

  A faint smile on her face widened into a broad grin. ‘Very good, Theo. Good night.’ Tez started to walk away.

  ‘Wait, Tez,’ I yelled after her, not wanting to end the moment just yet. ‘Why is the Garden of Odion named after the person we are trying to defeat?’

  She turned and looked at me. ‘Theo, I don’t even know if I should tell you this, but Odion and Zane worked together for quite a long time. The garden was Odion’s idea. When the Dacturons decided they no longer wanted to take part in Zane’s mission, Odion sided with them. That led to the irrevocable split between the two powerful brothers, and the universe’s never been the same since. That led to the theft of the Chamber of Treark. That is enough information. If you want more, you have to ask Nezatron yourself. Will I see you tomorrow?’

  ‘I hope so,’ I said, and we walked off in separate directions. I looked back to steal one last glance at her beauty and just when I sneaked a peek, she arrested me with another glimmering twinkle from her eyes. She probably knew—and savored—the fact that I was all ravished by her delicate elegance, and I was playing right into it.

  “I continued to walk proudly because I detected an iota of interest from her in me. Combined with the exciting tour of the ship, and Dan’s decisive defeat of the Bromel, the day was a success. More importantly, I felt as if I was in love. I could not stop thinking about what Tez said.”

  13 theodore: the traitor

  “I rolled around my bed and tossed, with a faded, yet stubbornly tenacious urgency to remember my life on Earth.”

  I didn’t stop to think about Jason for the twenty-two days I spent on the Uriel. All that I had left behind was a micro-slice of history now. I was enjoying my stay aboard Zane’s vessel, because it challenged me. I had learned more in the past three weeks than I had in the past three years living on Earth. It was called the learning paradigm.

  We were no longer being taught. We were being programmed. We were hard-wired to receive and accept new information with great ease, but more importantly, our retention and application skills were boosted by this futuristic nanotechnology.

  The Chamber of Rafal opened pathways and strengthened portions of our minds. These surgeries were only slightly invasive. Dan actually acquired an infection from the procedure. It was remedied right away.

  What I loved about the chamber was that we just stepped into it—and poof—we were evolved.

  I was in a rare mood that day. I awoke from my Dieton mattress, pulled off my Dieton blanket, and munched on some Dietonic cereal. Okay, the last part was just a joke.

  I still remember those days upon the Uriel, because they were the calm before the storm. The ship Uriel was fully populated with a fascinating microcosm of vastly different cultures.

  One day, I was late to class, and our instructor was lecturing about Bromel and Karshiz cultures. The only spot left in class was next to that bullying Bromel, Drangle.

  While peering through the window of the classroom door a bit longer, I decided to skip class that day after seeing that I would have to sit next to that huge oaf. I took a break on the bridge to observe the destroyers that impressively waited by the docking bays. Guarding these docking bays was an electronic perimeter. Beyond it was the Field of Termination, a no man’s land. If something crossed that line, it would be duly vaporized by the Ophanims.

  In the hallway to the Chamber of Rafal, there was a giant yet elegant telescope of sorts. It was monocular, and carved from a single log of mahogany with brass bindings and focus adjusters. It seemed too exquisite to belong in this sterile setting.

  I suspected the telescope was found on an expedition to Earth, maybe. I looked through the lens of the telescope, and I saw the destroyers up even closer, as compared to the countless times before from the deck on the ship. I watched and waited, formulating visions of Odion’s minio
ns invading the Uriel, and yours truly blasting them away with his bracers. My restless mind was constantly devising war mongering strategies. I impatiently wanted to use my skills.

  Then I heard a voice, ‘Why did he let your friend Jason die at the cliffs?’

  ‘Who is this?’ I asked.

  ‘Go with your instincts, Theodore. Why should you trust the Dietons and Zane?’ the voice asked.

  ‘Get out of my head!’ I yelled to myself. This was amounting to treason, and I didn’t want to be caught. I knew I could be monitored through the nanocom.

  I ran from the bridge. I wasn’t sure what was happening to me. I went to the Colosseum to train by myself, but what I really wanted to do was take my mind off things.

  I learned numerous types of martial arts during my stay. The types that I believed to be effective were Aikido, Jujitsu, and Muay Tai kickboxing. My favorite activity so far was wearing my bracers into the fight simulator and letting loose on some bricks.

  I had smashed bricks and disintegrated wood with my bracers many times. I only wish I were allowed to use my sword in there. Instead, my double-bladed sword, ready to flame upon command, sat mounted and dormant within the confines of my closet.

  Figuring the class with that oafish Bromel sitting side by side my empty seat was almost over, I ran through the bridge to the next class. I looked forward to greeting my friends. I had a question that I was just dying to ask the others.

  I saw them all standing outside the arena. Conferring homage upon ancient Roman empires, they called it the Colosseum. Next to the Colosseum was another war games arena, the Battle Simulator. In the Battle Simulator, we trained on weaponry and combat situations upon a pre-selected terrain that was originally designed from one of the planets within the multiverse. It was clever to have the topography of vastly different terrains captured into holograph format, as listed on a menu of options. Whether we wanted to battle in a desert scene, or in the jungle, we had them all.

  The most popular terrain to train in was based on that of Tritillia. Tritillia was a planet in the infant galaxy of Valeon. Giant sentient plants ruled that planet. Their environment was highly unpredictable, because of the billions of different plant species.

  The Colosseum had only a few simulated arenas. There was a hypogeum—which was a subterranean temple popular in ancient cultures on Earth—that introduced different variables like robotic mercenaries, vicious offensive plants, and ferocious animals such as Tigers or Rangier Cliguires.

  A Rangier Cliguire was similar to our mystical imagined dragons. They were not capable of breathing fire, but they did have some nasty breath, and could crush a grape with a stern look. They were locked to pillars, with chains.

  The hypogeum arena was also equipped with centrifugal fans and sprinklers situated on the ceiling. They were used to simulate volatile weather conditions during battle.

  I strolled closer to the now-familiar four. It felt good to see them. They were my only confidants away from home.

  Mariah was happy to see me. ‘Hey, good to see ya, Ted!’ she said, embracing me.

  ‘Where the hell were you, dude? Wicked uncool to miss class, bro,’ Dan said.

  I said, ‘Sorry, you’re right, but I was busy. I had some important things to do. Does anyone want to go a couple rounds in the Colesseum?’

  Dan rose to the invite immediately. ‘Totally. I will do it. I am going to beat you like I used to when we played SKATE!’

  Once inside the Colosseum we could not see any spectators, but anyone on the ship who wanted to drop in to watch the battles—practice, simulated, or bloodthirsty competitions—could simply take his seat in the overhang, peering through a one-way window. We could not see them, but they could see us. I could hear people applauding from the spectator stands, and it would motivate my desire to fight. Clearly, they could hear everything we said to each other.

  ‘Okay, name the rules,’ I said in a challenging tone.

  ‘Obviously no use of your rolesk, just mano-a-mano,’ Daniel said, borrowing some of Mariah’s native Spanish vocabulary.

  ‘Okay, bring it on,’ I demanded.

  ‘This will be easy,’ he said as he ran toward me at full force. It was as if he forgot about my Aikido Ukemi: a powerful technique to reciprocate a person’s own force against him. He threw a typical boxing one-two combination followed by an overhand right, and I grabbed his wrist just below the palm to gooseneck it. I returned his force to launch him over my body, hurling him smashing into the closest pillar.

  If I thought he would go down easily, I was sadly mistaken. What happened next would have played beautifully in slow motion. Dan was a skateboard dude who could McTwist and flip with the best of them on the quarterpipe ramps in Minneapolis, so he flipped-kicked—without the board—off the pillar, landing securely on his feet. He laughed. ‘Is that all you got, shitty-pants?’

  He was using verbal tactics to throw me off my game, and it was working. Using an effective fake, he grabbed the heel of my foot, throwing me to the ground. During my fall, I reached out and grabbed his arm, attempting an arm-bar, a jujitsu technique. Cat-calling me, he evaded my skillful but futile attempt.

  Moving in for the kill, he wrapped his legs around my waist from behind, squeezing me until my diaphragm almost split in two. His forearm was wrenching my face like an old pair of ski goggles three sizes too small. I lowered my chin to slide away from the choke attempt, then hoisting his one hundred and seventy-five pound body, staggered up.

  Now he was riding high on my back—like a jockey on crack. Grunting, I extended my arms back with every ounce of my remaining strength, grabbed his arm from behind, and flung him over my head to the ground beneath me.

  The fans whooped and cheered, thundering out deafening roars that sent our adrenalin pumping. Voting frantically with glee on their remotes, these spectators made their collective choice for the next obstacle of our battle. Immediately, from the rafters, hurricane-strength straight-line winds and pouring rain blasted into our scrimmage. Now this was getting personal. The fans were trying to mock us, to test our resolve. We shrugged it off, and continued our skirmish. We were acclimatized to wind chill, but this was ridiculous.

  Squirming on the ground in pain, Dan tried to escape, but I firmly grasped his arm as securely as I would hold a baseball bat. Feeling a rush of savagery, I placed him in a Kimura—a destructive arm-bar technique of jujitsu. I pushed and pulled at the same time. I heard a bit of a pop in his arm, and I felt Dietons nudging me to stop.

  Sensing no resistance from Dan, I concluded the match was over, and let him go. What a mistake. Once up, he swiftly advanced toward me with a leg kick, and followed up with a head kick. Sidestepping the merciless barrage, I leapt up high in the air and delivered a flying knee kick, ready to knock his head off. Before my knee was about to smash Dan’s head—the Dietons intervened. I froze in place, unable to move. Panting, both Dan and I fell to the ground, excitedly eyeing each other.

  Dietons always butted in before a devastating blow was about to be inflicted in the arena. They didn’t want us injuring each other. After all, they were invested in us as their strategic allies for the eventual war to come. Heck, Zane was invested in us.

  ‘Holy crap! That was awesome, dude! I think that was one of our best matches. You ripped it up, man. That knee would have knocked my head clean off!’ Dan exclaimed.

  ‘Well, there was no way of telling whether it would have landed or not. It was definitely a good match,’ I said modestly, after bowing and rewarding my comrade with a hug. Dan and I became much closer through our training. You never really know someone until you fight.

  ‘Let’s do it again sometime,’ he said, and gave me a high five. Everyone applauded us, and a few Bromels that were standing by on the sidelines, witnessing the battle, thanked us for a good show.

  Back in my room, resting my weary bones after the fight, I thought over how the Dietons had stopped me from delivering a heavy blow to Dan. I could understand the rationale; after
all, they wanted us to not get hurt. But—and it was a big but—did that mean I no longer had control over my own destiny?

  For the first time ever since I landed on the ship, I started having my doubts about the whole mission. This mission of serving Zane. I was done kneeling down for that demigod and his infinite sea of Dietons. I was crippled with disdain for the conformity that surrounded us. I kept wondering, are these actually my thoughts?

  I thought back to the beginning, when I was a twelve-year-old scared kid, nursing my bruises from my abusive father. Alone in the room, under the cover of darkness, I had seen that necklace with the glowing amulet, hovering in my room. Since then, I had been alerted to the presence of Zane, although I did not know it at the time. Zane had been watching over me back then—or even longer before that. I did not know.

  Yet Zane did not prevent Jason’s death.

  Zane did not prevent the deaths of Marvin and Laverene, my beloved grandparents.

  Zane could prevent a baseball from bopping Lincoln on the head in the back of a sports store, but he could not prevent the deaths of those closest to me in my life.

  And Zane had been careless enough to allow not only the evil despot Odion, but also his embittered servant, Travis, to invade what was supposedly ground zero for Zane on Earth—my grandparents’ house.

  And I had not questioned any of that with him. Perhaps I should have.

  Now, four of my dearest friends, and myself, were on his ship, to where? He had stolen our childhood, and was training us to become hardened battle-scarred veterans.

  I thrashed about on my bed, disturbed in my thoughts. I recalled vividly that the nanocom was deciphering every thought that passed through my head. Searing pain slashed at my head. Moaning, I grabbed at my hair. ‘Get this thing out! Get it out!’ I screamed.

  A cold wash of reality set in. Nezatron had said there was a traitor on the Uriel, but didn’t say who.

  I mumbled to myself in shock, ‘Maybe the traitor is me.’ In my confused state, I had forgotten the fact that this traitor was detected before I even had set foot on this ship with my team.