“You look pretty miserable. I’m guessing the whole branch to the face incident is not the reason,” Yoshi guessed.
“My mind is elsewhere,” Gabriel admitted.
“You’ll go back soon. You’ll be there to look out for her again.”
Gabriel couldn’t help but notice that Yoshi emphasized the word “you” slightly. He wondered if he were hinting at something. He decided to find out.
“Geez, do you think I’ll be capable of protecting her all by myself?” he mocked.
“Well, you should be. I trained you, so you’ll be fine.”
“Of course I will. My skills are all a result of your hard work and dedication not mine,” Gabriel joked. “And since you’re the real talent here, you’ll come with me when I return.”
“Naturally,” Yoshi said quickly then appeared to realize Gabriel was inviting him to visit America.
Yoshi snapped his head to look at Gabriel, hesitated initially and looked away then looked to him again, as if, for a fraction of a second, he did not trust that his ears really heard what he thought they did. When he faced Gabriel a second time, his expression was one of complete astonishment.
“Are you serious, man? America?” Yoshi gaped.
“Yes Yoshi, America. You’re kind of slow for an expert, aren’t you?”
“I can live with you being the brains I guess as long as you admit I’m the talented one of us–which you have–and know your place. Master,” he pointed to himself. “Student,” he pointed to Gabriel.
“Whatever you need to make you feel important,” Gabriel said sarcastically.
Yoshi ignored him and began chattering about his future trip to America.
“I can’t begin to imagine how amazing it’ll be; all of the skyscrapers, the streets of gold.”
“There are no streets of gold, I assure you; none that I know of at least.”
“But there are skyscrapers, right?”
“Yep, there are skyscrapers. I’m not sure if we’ll necessarily see any, but they’re there.”
“I know, I know. The only sight you want to see is Melissa,” he taunted.
“That’s right,” Gabriel said and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “No worries. You won’t be disappointed. Melissa’s more impressive than a tall building.”
“To you maybe, you big girl! I’ll have to meet her then see a skyscraper before I can make an informed decision.”
Gabriel laughed and clapped Yoshi on the back.
“You are quite a character, Yoshi, quite a character.”
“So I’m told time and time again.”
Gabriel and Yoshi resumed their journey back to the small village they resided in. Each home in the hamlet was made exclusively of wood and was situated on nearly two hundred acres of land.
As they walked, Gabriel’s mind returned to his earlier days in Motuo County, how he had come to learn the art of Kalarippayattu.
While most students of Kalarippayattu began training at approximately seven years old, Gabriel was invited to begin his at Yoshi’s recommendation as a teenager. Exceptions had been made for him at Yoshi’s request. It helped that Yoshi’s father, Anil, was both the gurukkal and a master in the martial art of Kalarippayttu. As the supreme spiritual leader of the village and their fiercest warrior, Anil performed an initiation ritual at which time Gabriel was admitted into the kalari, the school where the martial art was taught. The sacred ceremony included Gabriel placing his right hand then forehead to the ground as a sign of respect, submission and complete acceptance of the master, the deva, and the kalari itself. Anil then placed his hand on Gabriel’s head, blessed him and prayed for him.
Though Gabriel did not subscribe to the particular doctrine of thought Yoshi and his people did, he respected the sincerity of it, valued the honor and virtues it encompassed.
As a novice in Kalarippayattu, he had much to learn but little concentration. His thoughts continually drifted to Melissa; he could not harness in his rage and redirect it. He had struggled with his inability to protect her, to seek retribution for the attempt made on her life. He could not reign over the worry that plagued him; worry that his creator, Dr. Franklin Terzini had reneged on their agreement and pursued Melissa directly or indirectly. Gabriel fully understood that he was of no use to Melissa if he returned to America too soon and was arrested for the murders of three of his classmates, but felt he needed to do something, nevertheless.
Feelings of helplessness had fueled his anger and apprehension and did little to facilitate his training with Yoshi during his initial time in Motuo County.
But quickly, Gabriel learned to push his emotions to profounder areas of his mind and readdress them when not training. Once he released himself from the bounds of anger and surrendered completely to his instruction, he advanced. He entered at the first stage, Meithari, and rapidly progressed through the remaining three until he reached the same level of proficiency as Yoshi. Yoshi was second in the village only to his father and had been Gabriel’s mentor, had counseled him in each rigorous sequence of exercises and complex jumps, fostered his discipline through balance–both physical and mental.
The Monpa people had never seen a student move through the stages of Kalarippayattu as quickly as Gabriel had; they were not privy to the secret of his origins. Only one member of their clan knew that Gabriel had not lived on Earth for seventeen years as his peers had, that he was created with superior genes in a laboratory in the Russian Far East by Dr. Franklin Terzini. Yoshi was the sole protector of his confidence in the village and the second person on the planet with whom Gabriel shared it. Yoshi knew about his augmented DNA, about Terzini, and why he left the United States.
Yoshi’s father, Anil, was not informed of Gabriel’s beginning. He regretted not being able to share the most key piece of information about himself with the sage. Instead, he cringed inwardly each time Anil admired his skill, celebrated his remarkable improvement and distinguished him with praise. Anil regarded him with such reverence that Gabriel feared he viewed him as champion of sorts, sent to defend the great mysteries of their region.
Gabriel knew that in Tibetan, the word “Motuo” meant hidden and mysterious lotus. Anil and his people held that theirs was the most mysterious land in Tibet. After all, one need only look around to confirm such an assumption. Like the land, Gabriel was a mystery. He had singly survived the adversity of the landscape, the elements and the climate. He had become proficient in their ancient and nearly extinct language of ‘Olekha in a matter of days as opposed to years. He also had the necessary skills and control to improve at an unprecedented rate in the art of Kalarippayattu.
Under Yoshi and Anil’s tutelage, Gabriel had acquired stamina, mental alertness and poise to complement his genetic endowment of strength. It took him several weeks to be a comparable match for Yoshi when training, an unparalleled feat. When the moment did arrive and he was a not merely suitable match for his mentor, but had surpassed him, Yoshi did not begrudge Gabriel outright. He grumbled from time to time but, for the most part, was gracious in his acceptance of his reduced ranking within the colony; his fierce competitiveness ended beyond the walls of the kalari.
Reflecting on Yoshi’s diplomacy, Gabriel could not help but smile.
Gabriel walked beside Yoshi for several miles in silence passing women in home-spun wool gowns carrying baskets containing various vegetables and fruits. Each greeted him and Yoshi deferentially, reverently.
When they finally reached Yoshi’s home that he shared with his father, mother, siblings and Gabriel, Anil waited for them. With no roads in Motuo whatsoever, Anil stood, knee deep in brush wearing a sleeveless fur vest that hung nearly to the top of his leather boots. With a fur hat perched atop his head, Anil appeared royal, impressive.
“Hello Yoshi, Gabriel,” Anil addressed them. “How was your training today?”
“Excellent father, I landed Gabriel on his backside,” Yoshi bragged.
“Technically, sir, I landed on my side,�
� Gabriel offered.
“He dropped you, huh? It appears you are less able to control you feelings these days. You are distracted,” Anil said sagely. “Soon you will be able to check on her and be less distracted. Your questions will be answered and your curiosity satisfied.”
“Sir?” Gabriel asked genuinely confused.
“You will be contacting her sooner than you thought,” Anil announced.
Excitement bubbled in his belly.
“Sir, are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Anil asked with a deadpan expression then continued. “The weather will be favorable in the coming weeks. It would be wise to take advantage of nature’s gift. The days forthcoming will be the best suited for travel. We will be blessed with unseasonable warmth. You will be able to go to Pai Village and contact her, find out if all is well. I suggest you leave at dawn. Take Yoshi. The four-day trip to Pai will be without difficulty.”
Gabriel was familiar with Pai Village, had traveled there often over the last five months to contact Melissa. But harsh weather conditions between his arrival in November and the current month of April had severely limited his visits to the area. Even still, the pathways were covered in ice and snow with another month of unpredictable conditions on the horizon would make travel difficult. Anil’s prediction for milder weather was unexpected but welcome. Anil was rarely wrong in his estimation of upcoming weather.
“You are happier already, Gabriel. It is evidenced in your posture,” Anil observed.
Gabriel’s spirit was buoyed.
“Father, Gabriel has asked me to accompany him to America, when he is finally able to return,” Yoshi blurted out excitedly.
“He did, did he?” Anil asked staring directly at Gabriel. “Funny, he did not discuss such a matter with me.”
“Sir, I was going to speak with you about it, but I assumed there would be ample time for us to discuss it with you. I don’t anticipate my return to America to be anytime in the near future.
“Yoshi, do you want to go to America?”
“Yes, father. Absolutely.”
“You do realize it is very different there than it is here,” Anil warned.
“Yes father, I know it is different. But I want to see different things, cars, skyscrapers, roads paved in gold,” Yoshi began.
“Yoshi, there are no roads paved in gold. I told you that earlier, remember?” Gabriel interrupted.
“Whatever, maybe you’ve just never seen them. I can believe what I want. Anyway father, I want to see the world, eat the fast food.”
“You are seventeen years old, a grown man now. I trust in your judgment and training; I know you can take care of yourself. I would not stop you from experiencing anything that you would want to in life. I can only hope that when you’re through eating fast food while driving on streets of gold you will want to return to us.”
Anil stepped back and began to turn from Gabriel and Yoshi but paused to add, “Eat and then rest. You will leave at dawn.”
Gabriel did not consider the hour he’d be waking at or the conditions he would face. Personal inconvenience was of no consequence to him. He would speak with Melissa, be given proof of her safety. Confirmation of her well-being granted him peace of mind, quieted the unrest that raged within him. He would hear her voice and be pained and reassured simultaneously but it would be sufficient to calm his inner turbulence; at least for a while, until he could return.
Chapter 4
The faceless man never traveled in the daylight hours. To do so would have drawn far too much attention to his differences. He journeyed at sundown, cloaked in shadows and night, concealed by darkness. Forced to leave the only home he’d known, he had fled, scared but determined to save himself. He had known he could not stay any longer, that if he wanted to live he’d have to leave.
He had been commanded to do horrible things by his maker. He had been told his bad deeds had been necessary, deserved even, but the faceless man had not been sure. Though he had questioned his maker’s commands internally, he had been unable to ignore them; he had felt compelled to do as he was told. He did not know why.
Sitting in the coppice on the outskirts of Veteran Park on the warm, moonless spring night, the faceless man stared in the distance at a large, bronze statue of a kneeling soldier, momentarily relieved of the burden of his past actions. The statue and the surrounding park was illuminated by cast-iron lampposts painted black and crowned with three globes each. From where he was situated, he was granted a clear view of the statue yet maintained his concealment.
The bronze statue on bended knee held him, soothed him. With his helmet at his side and one hand at his brow, the soldier stared somberly at the ground below. The faceless man was sure that there were people who had cared about the soldier, people who had loved him. He wondered what it would feel like to be loved.
No one cared about him. No one loved him. The soldier had been lucky.
The faceless man had not been so lucky. Early on he had discovered that he was alone, that conventional humans were a cruel species reluctant to accept him. His only hope, the very one that kept him moving and offered him the will to live, was that somewhere in the world, the perfect friend for him existed, someone kind enough to see past his unique exterior. He had seen himself in a mirror in his former home. He knew he did not look quite like his maker or other humans he had seen. He did not resemble the handsome soldier statue either, did not have the same sad eyes.
His maker had told him that he was a product of an untimely end to his handiwork, that the urgent need for a formidable ally had superseded his proper formation. Terzini had said that he had been taken from his development tank far too early–earlier than was possible to allow for a meaningful, productive life of service to him; that he was a monster who would never be able to integrate into society.
He did not like what his maker had said. His maker’s words had been cruel. They had hurt him then, hurt him still.
In the silence of the thicket that bordered Veteran Park in the presence of the striking soldier statue, the faceless man relived the pain his maker had caused him, heard the words spoken in his cold voice, felt their chill. He hugged himself briefly to fend off the frostiness. Though the ambient temperature was moderate, he shivered. The memory of their last interaction was fresh in his mind. He felt as though he were sitting in Dr. Franklin Terzini’s laboratory, attempting to express his misgivings.
When the faceless man had resisted Terzini’s commands by gesturing with hesitance and grimacing at the orders, his maker had become very angry. He had shouted at him, had hurled a glass container at him. He had wanted to strike back or at least prevent his maker from throwing things at him, but something inside him had prohibited such an act. He had tried in vain to lift his arms in retaliation, had willed them to move but they had not cooperated. Instead, he had felt his insides tremble, had found it difficult to breathe. His pulse rate had sped dangerously. The world had spun around him. He had felt as though he’d fall to the ground.
Hugging himself tightly in the undergrowth, the faceless man suddenly found it difficult to breathe once again. His heart thundered; he heard it pounding in his ears just as it did the day he’d realized he wanted to leave.
He could still hear his maker’s voice echoing in his ears telling him that no one defied him and that he would die just as soon as the others were fully formed. Terzini had expected him to surrender to destruction.
Even still, five months after his fateful interaction with his maker, the notion of conceding his life, of forfeiting his future willingly sent a chill down his spine. His maker had insisted that he simply agree to his death; accept it as affably as one accepts a gift. His maker had had very unrealistic expectations. He did not want to die; he was newly born. He had not yet experienced life, save for the horrible things he had been ordered to do.
Day after day, in his short existence at Dr. Franklin Terzini’s laboratory, the faceless man had been given directives then ba
nished to a room the size of a closet. For him, it had felt more like a cell or a cage because, each night, the door had been locked from the outside. His maker had sequestered him. He had not been free to roam about. Instead, he had been detained like an animal or criminal devoid of rights and privileges. He had known he’d done nothing wrong. He had done just as his maker had instructed, yet remained imprisoned in a tiny room.
His captivity had grown very upsetting to him. He had felt trapped and confused by his maker’s rules, why his maker had thought it necessary to punish him with confinement. He had also refused to willingly accept death once Terzini’s new creations were born.
As part of the next phase of his maker’s plan, other creations like him had been formed and were in the process of development. They would remain in their tanks for a predetermined amount of time that was far shorter than the gestation of a human being conceived by conventional means, but far more effectual. His maker had told him that their births would signify a momentous moment in the history of humanity; that a great transformation would begin. The birth of the new creations did not represent a significant event to the faceless man. It was more like a death sentence. He had known what would’ve been expected of him, that once they had grown and matured and were ready for release, he would no longer be needed. Dr. Terzini had made it clear to him that once the new creations were born, he would be required to surrender his life. He had fretted over his death many nights while locked in his tiny room.
One night, when his internment had grown particularly unbearable, he had rested on his cot and looked at the ceiling of his small space. He had noticed a large metal grate affixed with screws. He had become curious about where the ventilation opening led, and if, perhaps, it led outside of his room. He had been certain it would lead to a fascinating locale.
That night, he had stood on his cot and excitedly yanked the vent from the ceiling. Tiny screws had dropped to the floor, but he had not cared. He had thought he was embarking on an adventure. He had dropped the grille to his cot, hoisted himself up and wriggled into the opening.
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