by Reiter
“But I doubt you see the Shay-Spawn King,” Nugar explained and Dungias stopped walking. “As I thought. you see the act of taking instruction from the Queen and facing off against the BroSohnti, but you missed the momentary monarch.”
“Emphasis on ‘momentary’, Kwinsoah.”
“Then perhaps I should not mention that some call you the Savior,” Nugar added. Dungias stared deeply into his eyes and the Osur nodded. “The architect of ‘The Revelation’! at least, that is what some call it.”
“And others?”
“The Iro-Revulsion.”
“So, like most monarchs, the opinion of my rule is mixed.”
“Stop it, Dungi!” Nugar insisted, all but grabbing Dungias with his voice. “If you had left them the power, it would have been irresponsible. You took their power and you’re to be thoughtless and cruel!
“Do not take the moment when my student saved my life, yet again, and the lives of each and every Malgovi, Vinthur, and BroSohnti in the region of The Campus and trivialize it!” Nugar yelled as tears found their way to his eyes. Dungias turned to look at him and the sight of the emotion surprised him, chastised him, and humbled him. “Do not dare! These eyes have seen much… thanks to the Stars I have been given to see the birth of celestial bodies. I count you among the brighter and grander. Through your light our people were made to see!”
Once more the two embraced, but this time, it was Nugar who made the stronger grasp. “Thank you, Master,” Dungias whispered. “Forever you are my teacher. Never doubt that. Star Chaser or no, you are my savior, and by extension, the architect of all I trek and do.
“In short, thanks for shooting me once more,” Dungias joked and Nugar laughed, pressing his face into Dungias’ shoulder.
“It is getting more difficult to find the caliber that will get your attention,” Nugar jested as they stepped away from one another. “Perhaps I should have shot you more when a simple gun could do the job!
“But to put all of this emotional ballast aside,” Nugar said, ushering Dungias to resume his walking. “… what will you do?”
“At the moment, I will see to the training of my Captain,” Dungias answered.
“But, if I am trekking you straight, they are both your Captain!”
“That they are, though fortunately not at the same time.”
“So when you say you’re going to train your Captain…”
“He means he’s already thought up a way to get the job done,” a voice explained as the speaker lit his cigar. Nugar looked toward the end of the hall and smiled at the sight of Beta-Alphexeous and Beta-Chiaro. “Haven’t you, kid?”
“Teachers!” Nugar said as he walked to them and embraced them one at a time. He then looked back at Dungias and shook his head. “No, you do not disappoint, Dungi. You never do!”
“Coming from you, Kwinsoah, I am flattered. Thank you for coming, Teachers.”
“We will forever answer the call of the Master of the Campus,” Beta-Chiaro said as he bowed. Dungias was stunned to see Beta-Alphexeous also demonstrate a genuine bow.
“That would be my Vi-Prin, Danatra,” Dungias corrected.
Beta-Alphexeous chuckled as he looked at Beta-Chiaro. “He still thinks there’s only one Master.” Shaking his head once, Beta-Alphexeous looked up at Dungias, put his hand on the Malgovi’s shoulder and blew smoke in his face. “Your sister is the Master who runs The Campus. You are the Master who appointed her.” Dungias stared at the Soul Fighter as he absorbed information he had not considered. He did not get too far into his thoughts when Beta-Chiaro stepped forward and placed his hand on Dungias’ other shoulder.
“But we have work to do, yes?” the Light Priest asked.
“Indeed we do,” Dungias said, lifting up his brace-com. After entering a very brief list of commands, the lights to the facility came on. “I have designated training rooms and living areas for Jocasta and Persephone. They will be housed at either end of the facility. This means there will be no less than five thousand meters between them at all times. I’ve loaded locator programs into their brace-coms that will alert us should that number drop to less than four thousand eighty. None of the facility conveyances will work for them, and all the vehicles they will be piloting will be in the simulators.
“We have eight months,” Dungias informed. “That gives you the choice of sixteen weeks of full-day one-on-one training or thirty-two weeks of half-day training. When they sleep, we will alternate what is to be taught during the simulator sessions.”
“I would prefer the thirty-two,” Beta-Chiaro voted. “What say you, brother?”
“Depends on what I’m training,” Beta-Alphexeous pointed out.
“Pax’Dulah and piloting,” Dungias advised. “Chiaro, I am going to ask you to recall your Polaris training.”
“It has never been forgotten, Star Chaser,” Beta-Chiaro smiled. “I now simply use light where I once used electronic, mechanical, and powered gadgetry.”
“My apologies, but I will not be making devices of light for her,” Dungias stated before smiling devilishly. “At least, not yet!
“Also, they both lack spiritual grounding,” Dungias noted. “Should they wish to seek out a deity, that will be their choice, but they do not yet possess a substantiated belief in themselves.”
“It will be added to the regimen,” Beta-Chiaro replied.
“So, we understand what we are about and what must be done?” Dungias asked. The Beta Forms and the Vinthur Master Traveler all nodded to the affirmative. Dungias looked at his mentor with a slight frown.
“Perhaps the Stars had something else in mind when they sent me to you a second time, Dungi. The Priest will show your Captains how to engage opponents at close-quarters and use tricks and tools of the trade… the Soul Fighter will teach them how to engage great numbers, how to avoid attacks, how to negotiate obstacles… that leaves me with teaching them how to engage themselves! I will need, however, a means to disguise myself. I see no reason why the two women should feel that they are being trained by anything other than humans. The less alien I appear to them, the less alien my perspective will seem.”
“Thank you, Kwinsoah. You and I will then alternate dinners, lunches and weekends with them. Let us begin!”
It took time for everyone to adjust to one another. Jocasta took two weeks before the combination of complaints, hostility, and escape attempts trailed off, allowing for more focused instruction. Persephone never stopped being abrasive and contrary until she came within three hundred meters of seeing Jocasta. It was then that Beta-Chiaro decided to be more aggressive with his abilities. Persephone, as a result, received two fewer days of physical training, but it was a matter Dungias had anticipated. He had brought them both so that their bodies could be trained, but something happened that Dungias should have expected, given what he knew of the women.
When they finally decided to train, their bodies shifted into another mode of capability. The two became extremely receptive to instruction, as concentration and capability potentials increased dramatically. It made the Malgovi Traveler consider, just for a moment, how the other sibilings might have turned out.
The Star Chaser also knew he would have to edit the memories of both women and implant one that would see to the high points of both. What seemed to be a simple concept turned out to be a monumental task, and Dungias, along with Beta-Alphexeous, spent much of their last fifteen days finalizing the memory stream. Once it was implanted, Dungias was faced with another decision. As much of a crime as it would be to Persephone, Jocasta would be the primary Captain of the Xara-Mansura. Persephone would only be utilized when Jocasta’s body needed time to heal. He knew then that he would eventually have to answer to Persephone for his decision, but Dungias could not allow himself to be distracted by that coming event.
Nugar had found himself with all sorts of questions, and he had very little notion of how to resolve his confusion because the point was so very sensitive and, after his experience with both wome
n, volatile. After the fourth month, when Nugar had come away from his evening lesson with Jocasta, Dungias was waiting for him. Not a single word was exchanged between the two. The Star Chaser had offered his mentor Alpha and had turned to leave. The moment he was out of sight, Alpha had activated and the long-standing rapport Nugar shared with it was reinitiated. Instantly he had been taken to a memory, a single memory that weighed heavily on every decision Dungias made in regards to Jocasta.
The human clones had not long been awakened from their near fatal slumber, relieved of the agents designed to destroy them. Dungias and Smitty were smiling at their handiwork; they had preserved life that had been manufactured. Their joy would be short-lived. Watching the humans awaken and interact, it became painfully clear that there was something wrong… something terribly wrong with their minds, and Dungias had quickly rendered them all unconscious. At least, all that had still been in the chamber. A quick count showed that one had wandered off. It was not a difficult search; the child of a woman had not intended to escape or do anything shaded for that matter.
No, she had been found in a very sacred place aboard Dungias’ ship: his arboretum. In the middle of the rather large chamber Dungias had found Jocasta, seated in the middle of the floor, weeping. She was rocking back and forth, crying and clinging to something. Dungias had come around the child to see what she was holding, and it had taken all of his restraint not to act quickly and violently. The child had taken up the last Crystal Lily seedling and she had cried over the dying plant. Knowing the woman’s innocence, Dungias could not find the wherewithal to be too angry… but that seedling had been his last possible attempt at growing the plant and despite his hopes, he had known he was failing in his ambitions.
He had moved gently as he took the plant from the woman, returned it to its pot and packed it with soil. Jocasta had helped him, and her tears mixed with the water he had poured into the potting soil. Three days later, while Dungias had debated with himself over what should be done about the clones, he happened by the Crystal Lily. The seedling had grown to a rich vine and had blossomed. As he had touched the flower, the vines had embraced him, and in the throes of his joy, he heard a child’s laughter. He had looked up to see Jocasta, once again out of her holding area, smiling brightly at the Malgovi and the plant. The vines reached for her and when they touched, both the plant and the woman glowed. In all of Smitty’s research, neither he nor Dungias could deduce what had happened, and it was Smitty who had suggested that perhaps they were better off leaving well enough alone.
After the images faded, Nugar returned Alpha to its master and patted the Master Traveler once on the shoulder as he walked by. “I understand,” was all the mentor could say to his student, and even those words were choked with emotion. “Keep her, Dungi. Never be ashamed of why you are so very close!”
To hell with circumstances; I create opportunities.
Bruce Lee
(V)
The floor was padded, but he was beginning to think it was for the floor’s benefit. It certainly was not for the concern of his back. Every inch of his body had been well-acquainted with pain, and he tried to do as he had been trained: a slow, measured, focused exhale. Byrvan Twell’s Tiger Pounce removed any hope of maintaining focus.
“Twell!” a sharp female voice echoed through the room, wrenching the spinal column of every student.
“Yes, Shifu?” Byrvan replied, coming to attention and flipping his blonde hair out of his face.
“What are we doing here?” the Master of the class asked as she stepped onto the padded floor. As always, her bokken was in her left hand, held against her left hip.
“We are sparring!” Byrvan replied.
“Is this a tournament?”
“No, Shifu!”
“Is your life on the line?”
“No, Shifu!”
“Would you rather spar with me?!”
“No, Shifu!”
“Then tell me what you did wrong!” she barked.
“I struck my sparring partner after he was down,” Byrvan said.
“Why?” Forenzia Cortez pressed as she drew closer. In only two days since the last major tournament, she had reached her limit. Someone was going to say aloud what everyone was feeling and thinking.
“I do not know, Shifu,” Byrvan replied. The slender woman allowed her left foot to slide back as she put her right hand on her bokken.
“Perhaps you need enlightenment,” she suggested in what was always considered too calm a tone. Byrvan knew his next words would decide whether that wooden sword would fly from her hip and cut them all down. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists as he retook his stance.
“It’s Campbell, Shifu,” he admitted. “Ever since he took the Weapon Forms championship, he’s been walking around with a chip on his shoulder.”
“Are you certain it is his attitude that has changed?” Forenzia asked, opting not to once again fall into the argument that the phrase had been misapplied. The human tongue and time were always a bad combination and she wondered when ‘bad’ was going to refer to something very good.
“He’s a sophomore!”
“I am aware to which year of study he belongs, young man. I was a freshman when I took my first championship. Perhaps I too have a chip on my shoulder you would care to address.”
“No, Shifu!”
“Aahhh, so it is not the chip you take exception to, but the shoulder that holds it.” Forenzia allowed her right hand to leave the bokken as she walked around the room, looking at each of her students. It was clear this was one of those textbook teachable moments. She wondered if she had the stomach for it. “If said shoulder exceeds your capability, why then, you don’t have a problem at all, do you? No, Mr. Twell, you don’t have a problem, not really. But I certainly do. I need to be able to justify the continued instruction of you and those that think like you; the ones who think I did not see them smiling when you attacked a downed opponent and fellow student.”
“You’ll teach us because that’s your job,” a voice spoke up and several students gasped at the audacity of the tone. Forenzia was surprised at the owner of the voice as she turned to see Stewart Campbell getting up from the floor.
“What did you say, Campbell?!” she asked, half-astonished.
“Well, so much for those Shifu-senses,” Stewart said dismissively.
“Class dismissed,” Forenzia said with her eyes locked on Campbell who started to take his leave. “And if you take one more step, Mr. Campbell, it had better be toward the infirmary!” The other students did not even bow as they ran from the sparring room.
Forenzia made sure that her approach was slow. If she had reached him too quickly, she knew she would be beating the streets looking for another job… after she made bail!
“You really think you’re helping when you come to my rescue like that?” Stewart asked.
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, you’re not!” he exclaimed. “They’ll just find another place to jump me, Shifu. At least here the floor is padded.” Forenzia Cortez looked at the boy, thinking he was anything but young.
“Your outburst,” she said, looking at the floor. “… an easy way out for me?”
“The fewer faculty members I have looking out for me, the better,” Stewart answered. “If it looks like I’ve pissed you off–”
“They’ll be more likely to jump you here,” she concluded.
“Hey, look at all the teachable moments that gives you,” Stewart said with a very warm smile. “Not to mention some sympathy points with Kara Whitport for me!” Forenzia laughed, shaking her head.
“Don’t you think it will be a little difficult to make out with a busted lip?” she asked, folding her arms.
“Who is this kid and what the hell happened to him?” she thought, already knowing the answer. When the kids were not calling him a freak, they called him PK. On Old Earth that would have meant Preacher’s Kid. These days the word Preacher’s had been replaced with Plague’s. D
ran looked like a waste zone to this day, and the mortality rate from just visiting the fifth moon of Vastion, without benefit of an environmental suit, was thirty-five percent. But nine people had walked away from the moon after the Death Tide struck; Stewart Campbell had been one of them. Forenzia had read his file and learned how he had been transferred from family to family, finally coming to find some comfort with Isaki and Thea Brodent who were themselves outcasts. Such was the badge of honor when one was born with Ardrian blood and chose to live outside the Ardrian System.
“Make out?” Stewart said as he started to quickly make his way to the showers. “She’s a genius in Advanced Algebra. I figure I’d trade in some pity points for some study time!” Forenzia nodded as she laughed. When Stewart reached the edge of the floor, he stopped running, turned to face his Shifu and bowed with his head down. She returned the gesture and stood up to see what she considered to be a very mature young man.
“The kind that will rule the world someday,” she whispered, turning to walk to the wall where she put away her bokken. “I wonder what happened to the other eight?” she pondered as she turned off the lights and left the room.
Stewart took the normal route home, and was very much into his broadcast pod when the hover-car stopped in front of him. Apparently Byrvan Twell was not yet done making his point. He jumped out from the passenger side of the vehicle and started toward Stewart who backed up only two steps as he looked left and right.
“You’re dead meat, Campbell!” he said, raising his fists and then looking over Stewart’s shoulder, coming to a very hasty stop. His face lost all expression as he turned and ran back for the hover-car that sped off at a very high rate of speed.
“That was very impressive,” the man remarked. The sound of his voice made Stewart smile. “You looked around with an expression of fear on your face, making your antagonist believe you were searching for an avenue of escape, when in fact you were searching for witnesses.”