This was a standard grav-disk: a rounded hull, two decks. The uppermost was geared with a retractable transparent dome. The protective cover slid over the deck within seconds when needed, otherwise it stowed below, slung down into the hull of the craft.
These flying vessels were typically armed for battle with Kay-guns and tracking devices. The Helandian pilot had expertly eased the craft off of the launch pad and headed west towards the coast. There they had maneuvered into formation with a squadron. It all appeared routine enough.
Kal-Nor joined Mahzit on deck, where they studied the control screen.
“We normally don’t perform maneuvers before dawn. Since the ship’s special sensory boards were adjusted yesterday, I assume the engineers requested predawn testing of the systems.”
Mahzit tapped in a short sequence and a diagram of the engine block appeared on the panel. Then he adjusted the angle of the screen, zooming in until they could examine the alterations.
Kal-Nor grunted approvingly.
“Your engineers have done well. I think they expect us to test out the new drive.”
Mahzit knew Helandian technology. They had used refractory systems for generations. With some clever adjustments to the anti-gravitational turbines, they would be able to significantly boost the grav-disks’ capabilities. Traditionally restricted to low flight over continental territories, they would have the capacity to soar above the seas and mountain ranges without relying on the Noomasian solid ground surface to sustain flight energy.
The ocean was racing under them and a glance back revealed the fast receding lights of the shore. They had already left the Bel-loniean Port far behind.
The Commander’s desert-tanned face was drawn, accentuating his deeply furrowed, elongated features, as he studied Mahzit. The man smiled warmly.
“Your reputation precedes you.”
“My what?”
“You’re colorful duel at the Bel-loniean Pleasure Palace.”
“I’m afraid I made a fool of myself, sir.”
“Fury in battle is admired among my tribesmen. The desert demands harsher discipline than required of city populations.” The Raider’s eyes brightened.
“Torlo Hannis said you would be a vital part of my team. Perhaps you’ll have enough Kordatic hump to be fairly useful among my rugged men.”
Mahzit decided to respond with a friendly challenge. Leaning slightly forward, he peered into the leader’s eyes. “We Helandians are great warriors. The spirits pull briskly at our core.”
He scanned the Commander’s perplexed expression, and before Kal-Nor could respond, he reared dramatically back.
“Ah ha! Hearken! The sky speaks loudly. Don’t you agree?”
The Raider looked puzzled.
“I can show you things that would amaze you beyond your wildest imagination.”
Mahzit paused. When the Commander was about to react, he opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut like a trap closing over any possible response.
“Do you think the Mutis are the only ones who can predict futures?”
The Commander started to reply, and again, Mahzit quickly interrupted.
“This requires great practice. And I have learned great secrets. Gaze into my eyes and watch as the universe unfolds before you. See the magic.”
Kal-Nor glared sardonically at him.
“I see nothing!”
Inwardly Mahzit guessed the Commander was probably wishing for a legal opportunity to strangle his impertinently foolish neck.
“Am I in the hands of a blind commander?”
Mahzit threw his arms up in exaggerated motion, attracting the attention of the crew; then threw his head back crying up into the sky. “Heavens; reward me with guidance, Oh mighty JaJa, make yourself known to us!”
“JaJa?”
Kal-Nor exploded, searching the empty air in front of them.
“Yes, have you not heard of JaJa?”
“No, to be honest.”
Mahzit spread his hands wide, arms extended, encouraged by the incredulous stares of the enraptured crew.
“Do you not see the JaJa in the sky?”
The leader appeared to marvel at something invisible. But after a minute, he futilely shook his head from side to side.
“Quite frankly, I see very little beyond the…obvious!”
“What god would be obvious? They are all mysterious. Isn’t that their divine right? Confusion and illusive bequests to answer endless questions are continually fed to countless omnipotent deities by their eager followers!”
Mahzit was playing the stage with the tact of an experienced thespian, holding the entire crew spellbound. “Look and listen; see, hear, and behold these wonders!”
Mahzit leaned closer to the Raider and whispered.
“I am having a vision…right now! Out there, the loveliest of damsels are expecting us to seduce their lush bodies. They are awaiting the men of this ship to offer the greatest of pleasures. Ah, what ecstasy awaits us! Who would deny their plea?”
Kal-Nor shook his head, this time with shaded humor. It was clear the Commander was on to Mahzit as he carefully placed his words.
“What god grants carnal lust over spiritual promises? And why does he reveal them only to you? Where is your visible evidence of his word?”
“His? Who said JaJa was male?”
“A goddess. Perhaps?”
“Did I suggest JaJa had gender?”
“Neither him nor her? Then what? Horrors!”
“Muti be the son of a Korda! Must these super creatures be divided like mere mortals?”
“This JaJa is of your own…concocting. I bow to you…tell me…,” and the man made a long low sweep before Mahzit.
When he had again stood erect he looked sternly at Mahzit, his penetrating tone of voice adding a sharp edge to the meaning of his words.
“By what authority do you make conjectures about the deities? Where are your facts?”
Mahzit decided to quit while he was ahead.
“I have an inner perception. Precise intuition, sir.” he conceded, dropping his pompous façade; then respectfully addressing Kal-Nor.
“I’m not permitted to share details, sir.”
Kal-Nor astonished everyone by placing a hand upon Mahzit’s shoulder; a sign of honor among the clans.
“You have humor and brains and guts!”
A chuckle shuffled through the crew as each nodded toward Mahzit. He had won his point and acceptance from the men, who now turned back to their duties, leaving Mahzit alone with the Commander.
Kal-Nor raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, your record with the Baji-Ney tribe is impeccable, so you need not prove your valor here. Talk of unseen entities eludes me. I’ve heard rumors about the Helandian culture and special wisdoms. What do they call them—HanJahn?”
“Those are primarily my sister’s dedication; Sarleni of Helandi and the House of Dorta. The powers of the mind can be amazing. And she claims that Adt Dorta has extraordinary talents, too, beyond his swordsmanship.”
Kal-Nor looked puzzled and doubtful.
Mahzit realized he had said too much and nervously smiled.
“It is genuine enough.