you dare leave me stranded with only a hint of your promise.”
A thin edge of sadness shrouded her voice.
“Only then can I endure your going off to do battle with evil monsters.”
That was the last thing she said. In the early hours long before dawn, I quietly left her sleeping, gently tucked under the covers. I took little comfort from the local deities, for the only true goddess I knew was my beloved, the one I left there in our bed; the one and only most lovely Proctoress, Youi of Bel-loniea.
CHAPTER FOUR
A MUTI CONFERENCE
They stood in the overgrown bower, oblivious to the lack of light. Two Mutis, severely troubled with issues at hand, huddled closer; merging into a singular zone. Silent communion was evident through their rhythmic weaving back and forth.
The turning of the root has begun, the taller one expressed with deliberate urgency. It serviced the House of Romos.
Expectations have come to pass. The aura of Torlo Hannis strengthens across our horizon, the other Muti agreed. My work with this branch has generated wisdom to the sovereigns. My words forewarned of him.
Romos is gaining knowledge of things to come. The Messenger, Talni, provided well for them.
The Janis Foundation will sort the evolving complexities.
They were in Muti union; fusing into a seamless continuum:
New revelations and changing currents bend the time line.
Variables alter results. Few paths of purity remain.
Branches must be tapered. Narrow the paths to open doors.
The melding broke as Janis’ Muti went on:
Our watch will continue with the new fruition stemming from Andon, especially over new scholars examining his standards.
Proctor’s Muti raised its arm and touched the other. Both had stopped swaying and stood frozen as their exchange came to a halt. Silence sealed the boundaries of their mental vistas.
And then the Muti continued:
You are a crucial key. Our task is heavy. The Guide has spoken the way we shall take.
The other also touched its companion. They both slowly lowered their cloaked arms and began the subtle rhythmic sway once again as Janis’ Muti weighed their queries.
Andon and Torlo are wizened with academic and galactic experience. These two humans have rich histories.
Proctor’s Muti infused: Decide which to inform, which not: which to lead, which not. Choices yield diverse possibilities. We must make ready.
Third sector voices prevail. The Guide informs. The source returns soon to assay our progress. Prepare for Sziat.
Revolution forces selective bends. Uncertainty dulls visions. Future balance crosses dimensions, thwarting alignment of space, confounding the present course.
The Muti of Janis had turned and begun to pace a few steps back and forth, trance-like.
The breach in the vine is reaching chiasmic depths. Many of our numbers yield to the Kamina.
And the Muti of Romos nodded, pacing its pattern in the gloom.
Talni’s message marked unprecedented change; Bright mortals whither rapidly beneath the oppression of the New Order. Muti and Man alike suffer irreparable damage.
Now both increased their pacing pattern locked in a ritual dance, reciting their saga in unison.
Cosmic fractures never before spanned, now bind ancient divisions.
The moons have converged. Hope arrives amid chaos.
Destruction blackens the soil. Fertile decay primes the seed.
Stagnant waters fester. Patience fosters new genes.
A rift is evident. Followers of Kalinis savage the continent. All who publicly protest their cruel dictates, perish. Kaminaeans plot to expand beyond borders. Their greed devours each acquisition. They intend a Conquest of Noomas.
The mutual chant broke.
It happened so fast. Proctor’s Muti had paused as if coming back to the awareness of the present.
“So fast!” It muttered softly in a hissing whisper.
None of us anticipated. The Ancients knew. It was foretold altered seeds would change. The challenge is tougher than we surmised.
The Muti of Janis raised its hooded head, facing the other. It trembled briefly and then shook its shoulders hard, one time. Again the pacing began, as did the saga.
Perhaps we did not believe it could happen. Rapid seedings bring untold horrors to innocent nations. Forbidden experiments were stricken from the world: banned forever. And now we know why. Rebirthing has plunged the future into a fog of indecision. Only Sziat conveys hope.
Is it possible we question? We must mend the hole. From it, seeps poison; crippling our readiness to strike against the Kaminaean Expansion. We have lost unity among our peers. The chasm between us is too great. We must amend our bonds before it becomes too powerful. The humans are vital to turning the root.
Romos’ Muti curled into its cloak, protectively.
Humans can be aggressively dangerous, too. We have traveled through the realms of Torlo’s mind. His experience as a galactic soldier vexes provident. It has been said; we must learn to make use of human aggression. I wish we had begun sooner.
The Guide directs at its own pace.
Both Mutis faced one another; their bodies firmly squared and straightened to their full height.
Kamina must be stopped.
CHAPTER FIVE
CONVOY ON CALL
I. Kal-Nor’s Unit
From: the official files on the mission of Kal-Nor
Call to alert came before dawn. No signs of invasive forces, I assumed we’d been sent on a routine training drill.
Our flight route took us west, towards the Bel-loniean seaport at an incredible speed; reaching the coast well before sunrise. A convoy of twenty similar grav-disks intercepted us and fell into formation. As we headed out to sea, our pilot took lead position.
Crew completed detail reports and logs. All supplies accounted for and roster completed. Unit consists of expert combat warriors trained for international duty: nine desert Raiders trained as follows:
Scouts: three with research and scientific backgrounds.
Technicians: two, acutely familiar with military air and sea craft.
Medics: two heavy-duty combat experts.
My first officer and the pilot are Helandian: qualified warriors as well as communications experts.
Unit is ready for any challenges. I spoke with Officer Mahzit. His relaxed attitude and sharp wit reflect his easy adaptability. For the record, I appraise him to be a sincere and highly dedicated warrior.
* * * *
Mahzit received the sealed assignment that was issued directly from Commander Hannis and, as instructed, immediately reported to the Baji-Ney contingent. His unit Commander, Kal-Nor, had been expecting him. The Raider, a determined tall man with a trimmed beard, appeared pleasant enough but decidedly grim. They had cautiously sized each other up; then Mahzit had taken his gear to the unit barracks and did not see the officer again until the next day.
The other members of the crew held a respectful distance. He knew his position as second in command created a natural barrier between him and those in his charge. Being late in the evening, he’d politely retreated to bed, curling up in the narrow hammock, shutting out the low chatter among the bunkmates.
The morning