Happy New Year

Greetings from Kyra, Zeke, Ji and all the rest. Wishing all much Peace and Joy in the year to come.

54. Stormy Weather

“John, what the hell just happened?” Commander Rogers’ voice trailed off in a sense of surreal bewilderment. Every sensor display tracking Zeke and his drone was blank, nada, nothing, as if neither existed. Full data one moment, nothing the next.

Simultaneously, the three Raptors disappeared off the same monitors. No Zeke, no Vanguard, no Raptors. Minds raced for an answer, yet the echo back was the same. Command had miscalculated. The Vanguard was no match for three Raptors. Zeke never saw them coming and Command, well, Command had miss calculated.

“Sir,” John hesitated. “Sir, we, we have no explanation. All vector calculations estimated four minutes to impact. That data . . .” Rogers cut him off. “That data John was wrong. How else do you explain all four entities disappearing at the same exact moment?”

The question hung in the air. No one could ever remember such silence in Central Command. Rogers starred straight ahead. Empty monitors mocking his competence. “So this is it,” he mused. Thoughts of notifying Ji, thoughts of history lessons on what not to do next to his name, thoughts of court martial, thoughts of a career in ruins, thoughts of returning home in disgrace, the sight of his wife and children and not being able to look them in the eye. Rogers was full of thoughts, lost in thoughts, consumed by thoughts.

Zeke, likewise had been in his own world. If not for the blinding flash and electrical shock that stung him like a giant willow wasp, he would have still been in that self-absorbed world. Wringing the sting from his fingers and rubbing the blindness from his eyes, he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Zeke had studied all the scientific logs transmitted by Outpost 643. Their mission was to study the duality of Zaels, yet, as scientists are wont to be, they tended to study anything that struck their fancy. The Zael system was unique for more than just its magnificent creatures. Electro-magnetic solar storms occasioned the confines of Zael space in ways the Hynerians had never seen.

These storms had been studied during “down-time” and very little was known or at least very little data transmitted. Zeke guessed no one wanted to document time spend on a subject not commissioned. This much was known. The storms were massive. They were spontaneous and apparently unpredictable. Charged with electrical power, any and all communication became impossible for the duration. The few storms documented had lasted from one to five minutes and then they were gone as quickly as they had materialized.

Command had not miscalculated the vector. The blinding flash Zeke had seen was the three Raptors exploding as they sailed straight into the solar maelstrom. Zeke would live another day and Commander Rogers would not have to make that long solitary walk down to Ji’s chambers. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good. And today, they were all lucky Hynerians.

“Sir, exclaimed John. We’ve got data on the Vanguard. Zeke is alive. Lieutenant Zeke, this is Central Command, can you hear me?”

“Lieutenant Zeke reporting. Did you guys see that unfricken believable solar storm? I’ve never seen such incredible beauty and massive power all in one package. Holy fricken molasses.”

“That’s our boy,” exclaimed Rogers with a grin big enough to light the deepest caves in the central regions. “Zeke, I’m not sure what the hell you’re talking ‘bout but it sure is good to hear your voice. You ready to proceed?”

“Yes sir. Like a pampus on his pappus, let’s get this show on the road. I don’t plan on freezing my ass off all day in this Janus forsaken contraption. By the way, give my regards to the engineers. Tell them I’ve got a little sumthin sumthin for them when I get back.”

“Will do Lieutenant. Will do my friend.”

Commentary Part 1:

Commentary Part 2:

Reading:

53. Four Minutes

“Lieutenant Zeke come in. Lieutenant this is central command, please reply. Sir, he’s not responding. We don’t know why, but it appears he’s turned his receiver off.”

“Goddamnit John, fix the sunavabitch. Override the drone’s communication matrix. Do whatever you’ve got to do, just do it now!”

“Sir, we’re doing everything we can. The modifications were not spec’ed for this contingency.”

Damn it John, if you were doing everything, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I can find any idiot on this ship who can tell me why it won’t work. You’ve got less than five minutes to make it work, or the Lieutenant won’t be the only one up shiott creek. Is that clear.”

“Yes sir. Very clear.”

Zeke was lost in thought. The sight of 643 stuck in his mind. Twenty-nine Hynerian scientists, just like his mom and dad, out to do good, not an unjust bone in their bodies, murdered. Murdered in deep space, murdered in silence, murdered where their screams could not be heard. An yet, there was the last distress signal, playing, over, and over again.

643 was a living tomb. A tomb with a horrific voice. A voice crying out in desperation. A plea they must have known could not and would not be answered in time. Every living fiber of Zeke’s body cried out in sympathy with those words “revenge our souls.”

Zeke couldn’t divorce himself from the image of those Hynerian scientists surrounded, desperate, crying for help. Help that would never come. He couldn’t divorce himself from the image of his mom and dad, both research scientists, the image of them on this mission, on that station, in those last hours. Could have been them. Instead it was their colleagues, their friends, with a request. A request made in blood. One word. Revenge.

Sitting alone in the cold silence of space, his heart beat with a different timbre. Deep. Heavy. Brooding. His blood felt thicker as if his heart had to work harder to keep the life flowing within him. Life itself felt heavy at the moment. Just lifting his arm seemed like a monumental task.

“Lieutenant Zeke come in please. Lieutenant Zeke come in please.”

Zeke had turned his receiver off. He couldn’t bear to hear the radio distress signal anymore. Besides, that signal lived in his head now, had taken up residence and wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

“John, status report.”

“We have three Javalina Raptors bearing down on Zeke’s location. ETA, four minutes.”

Javalina Raptors were drones left behind like boobie traps. Their only purpose was to inflict additional pain and suffering on first responders. Small vessels with a single central cannon, they were “single use” killing and maiming machines.

Vanguard drones relied on stealth and silence to navigate the battlefield. The tradeoff was lack of armor or any significant defense mechanism. To lose a Vanguard was to lose a machine. Data was transmitted simultaneously so only potential was lost. This Vanguard, however, was different. It carried a life. And not just any life but the potential successor to Ji. And now it appeared that life had less than four minutes. Four minutes to find a way or four minutes to infamy. No one wanted to be carved into Zing Tao history like this.

“John, I think we need to notify Ji.”

Commentary Part 1:

Commentary Part 2:

Reading:

AudioBlogger

Muse has suggested I post audio readings of the postings to go with the text and images. If you have an opinion, now is the time to share.

Here's another thought. Should I read the post, simply add commentary on the image and prose, or both? Neither is also an option--lol.

52. Frequency 643z

Vanguards operated in complete silence. Zeke had never been aboard a craft, of any type, that simply made no noise. How this was possible remained one of the Institutes most closely guarded secrets. Unnerving to say the least, to travel through space in complete and utter silence. To create your own silence was one thing; to have it imposed, entombed upon you was quite another. Zeke nervously smiled at the thought.

Ji smiled at the added difficulty. The volume of one’s thoughts magnified in the vacuum of sound. Like walking outside in the deep wilderness and witnessing stars forever unseen, silence revealed the ever constant flow of thought, and the sound was deafening. Like the stars, these thoughts had always been there. Silent operatives in most lives, pulling strings and issuing orders from the shadows. These thoughts feared the gap like evil fears the light. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Zeke would face his tormentors, his captors and he would face them alone.

The questions flowed faster than Zeke could catalog them. Seemed each one came hand in hand with “Why.” They begged to be heard, begged to be addressed. Like the incessant knocking of a child at the front door, the questions banged from the inside of his skull begging for release, demanding answers. Zeke watched. No resistance, no judgment, nothing solid or enduring here. Watch, listen, watch again. Notice how they come. Notice how they distract. Notice how they leave like the caged animal who realizes you have no food for them.

“Lieutenant Zeke, come in please.” Startled, Zeke replied. “Roger, Zeke here, over.”

“Lieutenant, look to your right and switch your frequency to 643z.” Radio techs must have all gone through the same training. Zeke was damned if he could ever deduce any flavoring of tone in their communication. He called them blank voices.

Zeke couldn’t quite make out what he was seeing. The glare from Z16 made seeing difficult. He lowered his amber antiglare visor. Chills electrified his spine. The assault came not by way of vision but snuck in the twin back doors on the side of his head.

“What the hell is this transmission,” reacted Zeke. Almost immediately he regretted the tone in his voice. “Apologies. Transmission is garbled. Need clarification. Over.”

“Change the alpha channel two clicks to the right Lieutenant. That should clear most of the static. What you are hearing is being beamed from . . .”

Zeke didn’t hear the rest. He knew.

“Outpost surrounded. Stop. Situation desperate. Stop. Transmitting all scientific logs. Stop. Last rites performed. Stop. May Ji Qong revenge our souls. Over.”

The message was looped. Auxiliary battery power had been transmitting since inception. The signal was weak but unmistakable. Outpost 643’s last communiqué. The blank voices were no longer blank.

“Situation desperate. Last rites. Revenge our souls. Situation desperate. Last rites. Revenge our souls. Revenge our souls. Revenge our souls. Over.”

The words echoed within Zeke's heart like unexpected hammer blows long after he had clicked the receiver off. His eyes fixed on the sight before his drone. Not much remained of Outpost 643. Still golden, still beautiful. Still a tomb.

Surrounded. Annihilated. Defenseless Hynerian scientists had met their end here. Right here, in this place, floating before his eyes. The silence roared with the power of a hundred crashing waves on the beach of Zeke’s mind.

Zeke didn’t know it, but his first test had arrived. Ji sat silently in his chambers watching the events unfold. Did he have a bowie knife or did he have a samurai sword. He would know soon enough.

Reading:

Commentary Part 1:

Commentary Part 2:

51. Before

Vanguard drones normally flew without pilot, but Ji had them modified for this mission. Zeke held more potential than any recruit Ji had ever seen but potential did not mean actualization. Potential was a fool's game and Ji was in no mood to play. The Order needed a successor and no suitable candidate had emerged, yet.

The Tragedy of Zael provided the test Ji needed. He would learn, and so would Zeke, just how far this young Hynerian could take Zing Tao. Saving a few Zaels was important but uncovering the next leader of the Order was paramount. Ji was not getting any younger and all great movements demanded leadership. Contrary to popular bedtime stories, leaders, Ji knew, were born, not made. The knife could be sharpened but a pen knife, no matter how sharp, was never going to be a bowie knife, much less a samurai sword capable of greatness.

Vanguards were always first in battle. They possessed thousands of delicate sensors capable of gathering more information on the field of battle in an hour than a commander could process in a week. Seen as an engineering marvel, they were the pride of the Southern Scientific institute. Zeke would be the first to ever actually fly in one.

“This way Lieutenant,” motioned the tech. “Watch your step sir, we’ve had to make some rather interesting modifications.”

Zeke ducked his head and settled into the drone. Pilot not needed. He would be a passenger on this ride. Price of admission—his future. “Lieutenant, if you look this way you will see the main control panel. We’ve modified the display so that you will be able to see all the data normally beamed back to central processing. Any questions sir?”

“I think I got it,” Zeke said to no one in particular. “When will she be ready for launch?”

“She’s ready now Lieutenant. Should we initiate the launch sequence?”

“Yes. Initiate the countdown. No time like now,” Zeke intoned with an unintended edge.

Less than twenty minutes to the surface. Three hours until return. Never before nor ever after would Zeke experience such a dividing line of before and after. The Hynerian that left on that Vanguard drone was not the Hynerian that returned.

50. Arrival

Ji’s taskforce arrived. Silence. No radio traffic. No distress signals. From orbit, Zael looked normal, peaceful, tranquil. But then again, so did every other world from space.

Zeke sat in his cabin wondering what his heart would feel and his mind see that Ji had warned him about. One of two Zing Tao chosen to survey the planet in Vanguard Drones, Zeke sat and meditated in silence. Ji knew what he would see, the emotions that would assault his mind and heart. He also knew that to know was one thing; to experience and conquer quite another. The difference between the two, Zeke had been taught, should be as clear as night was to day.

Zeke dressed in silence. Fear sat beside him trading in whispers of doubt. Ji had postulated his path would go one way or the other depending on his performance. Years of training hung in the balance and it appeared his adversary was not out there, but in fact lived within. What he would see would simply reveal the shadows. That those shadows were there was not in question. How he would handle them was.

Ji expected perfection in working the gap. Stimulus and reaction, for most there was little to no gap between the two. Zing Tao lived the gap, to know stimulus as stimulus and reaction as reaction. Between them, if one could cultivate awareness, existed possibility.

The essence of Zing Tao existed in the gap. Most recruits were never able to overcome their habitual conditioning, never able to expand the gap and were subsequently washed from the program. Zeke thought he had passed, thought he had proven himself. Yet, here he was, being tested again and this time with Ji himself watching.

Like twin walls of a trash compactor, Zeke felt the pressure of Stimulus and Reaction closing in. He also knew his own resistance was not helping. Mind the gap. Work the gap. Within the gap would his future lie.

49. Grand's Brooch

Kyra was just a small child when her grandmother passed away. She remembered standing by the bed while the adults around her stared off into the distance with glassy eyes. Papa tried to comfort her, but her heart was too tender to find comfort in words. Grandma was leaving and she wasn’t coming back.

In a quiet moment when no one else was around, Grandma had whispered for Kyra to retrieve a small box hidden in the nightstand. Grandma’s eyes widened as she opened it. Kyra couldn’t quite see, but the contents seemed to glow. Grandma sat up with a smile on her tired face that Kyra hadn’t seen in some time.

“Come close dear sweet child,” the words barely audible. “This brooch was the first thing Papa ever made for me. Said it took him years to save the money to purchase the golden nugget and many months to work on the design. I don’t think your Papa was ever so proud of anything else he had ever given me. I want you to have it.”

Kyra remember not knowing what to say. The brooch looked brand new, yet she had seen grand wearing it on many official occasions. The detail and care that papa put into it boggled her young mind. That her own Papa Kyra had produced this with his own hands made it more than a keepsake.

“Miss Kyra, the crew is expecting you,” said Goldie, snapping Kyra back into the moment. “Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I finish my snizzle.” Kyra always felt uncomfortable when she told a white lie. Her snizzle was cold and she was finished with it, but she wasn’t finished with the sanctuary of a few closely held memories. She needed just another minute to remind herself of who she was.

“Dear child, I give you this brooch to close the circle,” grandma had said. She must have noticed the puzzled look on my face Kyra thought. “This brooch has value in that it represents love. When you hold this brooch you hold love. Only love would save for years; only love would labor for months; and only love could light up your papa’s eyes like they did when he gave this to me.”

“Take it Kyra,” grandma had urged. “Close the circle between us three. Papa always said love was truth, that love would conquer all. I don’t know what he saw on Zael, but your papa’s heart came back ten-fold the size that it was. He told me that’s when he started saving.”

“I love you my dear sweet child. Keep this brooch. Hold it close to your heart and know that the gleam of light in your eye is the sparkle of my soul forever protecting you with the shield of love given to me by your papa and which I now bestow upon you.”

The day was starting, if one could call time in space such. Between the ring and the brooch, Kyra had all the grounding she needed to see clearly. Time to make things happen.

48. A Rare Encounter

“Lieutenant Zeke, this way please.” Lampré didn’t walk, didn’t fly, but rather glided.

“Master Ji will see you in his private chambers. He’s expecting you.”

Zeke drew a slow steady deep breath. Letting the air out at a slightly faster nervous cadence, he stepped into Ji’s private quarters. Immediately his mind felt like mush, time seemed warped, and his thoughts slowed. His eyes took in light in the dimly lit room, yet even light seemed to move at a different tempo. An unusual lightness lifted his body as if Ji’s room operated at a different gravity than the rest of the ship. Zeke felt like a Hynerian who had checked his wits at the cloak room. He had them but they weren’t here now.

“At ease Lieutenant.” Words registered. Ji had spoken. Body failed to respond. Then laughter. Ji could manifest as either body or spirit, and preferred his spirit form whenever possible. Invisible to the normal eye, Ji employed an ocular oscillator so that others could visually interact with him.

“Sorry Master Ji. I . . .” and then nothing. Zeke felt like his vocal cords were frozen. More laughter. Ji always seemed to know how to break the tension. “Everyone reacts the same the first time they use the ocular Zeke.”

“Our time is short and there is little to say,” laughed Ji. “No need to speak my son, I know your mind and I know your heart. If I didn’t have faith that both were exactly where they needed to be, you would not have been invited on this mission.”

“Javalina Destroyer’s will attack before we will arrive. The planet is lost but our objective is to save the Zaels we can and bring them back to Hyneria. For you, my friend, this mission has a different purpose. You will see things your eyes have never seen before. Your heart will feel vibrations and tremors of terror new and alien to anything you have felt before.”

“The days ahead Lieutenant determine where you go from here within the order. First contact has a way of blunting growth. The heart grows callused in some, and a callused heart becomes dull with anger and bitterness.”

“Watch your heart. Let it grow not in revenge, not in justification, but let it expand in compassion for our adversary. Hate begets hate. Watch your heart. Cultivate love and compassion. Only love is truth and only truth conquers. Zing Tao, Lieutenant. Prepare yourself. Much is expected. Much you will do. Dismissed.”

Commentary Part 1:

Commentary Part 2:

Commentary on the Image:

Reading:

47. Intermission: Run get your popcorn and cokes

Trace, I did some snorkeling on Hyneria and thought you might appreciate some of the beautiful coral there. This one's for you.

46. Bad News

Javalina Crawlers

Dropping from the sky, Javalina Crawlers fell on Zael CIC. Only twelve hours had passed. Javalinas were not known for keeping their word. At least one could say they were consistent.

__________

Crawler Prototype
for Terry

45. Juju Birds

On Hyneria the southern sky during summer solstice produced the most fabulous rainbow light shows. Brilliant primary colors filled the sky with such beauty the Hynerians gave the effect its own name—The Southern Juju. To witness the Southern Juju lights on the beaches of Valla became an annual holiday for the family. Only lasting for a couple days with peak intensity lasting just an hour or so at dusk and again the following dawn, the family made an annual holiday of the event at the Valla retreat. Canvas and paint became the order of the day. Just something about those colors made everyone want to play in pigment.

Found only in the southern regions, Pepegai minor, known commonly as the Juju bird for its dazzling color that mimicked the Southern Lights. But the name stuck for another reason. Juju birds were easy to domesticate and their subtle chirping at sixty to seventy beats per minute provided the most interesting biofeedback for Hynerians.

Scientists had discovered that school children who studied to the sound of Juju birds increased their retention of material by forty percent. Jujus were very popular with parents with young kids, and Papa was a huge fan since Ji had used them in Zing Tao training. Kyra never studied without her Juju birds.

Jujus were famous for one more reason. Their biological system processed ninety-eight percent of all food and water ingested. That is, they produced almost zero waste. Juju birds possessed perhaps the most efficient biological system known on Hyneria. As such, they became a favorite pet for space expeditions. For Kyra, Jujus were memories of better times, memories of Valla and memories of Papa.

44. Postcards

Precious as jewels, Kyra had kept all her postcards, notes and letters from Papa. Some had come from distance lands and others he had drawn by hand in Valla. The way she guarded them one would have thought they were love letters from her soul mate. Wouldn'’t have been the first time an angry suitor had throw that accusation in her face to disguise the pain from his own delusions.

She often wondered if her expectations, to find a man like Papa, were unrealistic. Had she passed on happiness? Was no one good enough for her? As sure as her Juju birds chirped in the morning, these questions just as frequently bullied their way to the front of her consciousness.

Taking another warm slip of snizzle from her handmade off-white cup, the only way snizzle should and would be pleasured, she allowed the warmth to melt those vague doubts away. No need of a mate if one didn'’t have a world to call home. Perfect food was nice, the Golden Tree didn'’t hurt, but their supplies were limited and time moved on.

Slowly she held each postcard up to her nose, closed her eyes and with a deep breath and a little imagination he was right there. If only Papa was here now, he would know just what to say, just what to do. Spilling her snizzle with a snort, she knew exactly what he would do first. Slap her back into now and out of fantasy poor pitiful me land. Besides, Goldie didn'’t feed the Juju birds, and as beautiful as they sounded, they weren'’t singing for nothing.

43. Goldie and Snizzle

“Good morning Kyra. Come drink your snizzle before it gets cold.”

How a mechanical contraption could sound like her grandmother never failed to surprise Kyra. Brushing the dark long hair out of her eyes she threw one leg followed by the other off the bed and headed for her breakfast nook.

Morning Hynerian, Kyra was not. She loved her snizzle and refused to start the day without it. Goldie, as Kyra called her personal assistant, had perfected brew time and temperature. Of course, since Papa Kyra had built her, exact attention to detail was a given. That he gave her Ms Papa Kyra’s voice was a gift. A gift to whom, she chuckled, was still a mystery since Papa seemed to enjoy having Goldie around as much as she did.

Grandma had passed away a few years before Kyra came of age. Within six months, love and grief had built Goldie using Papa’s hands, mind and heart. The only surprise for Kyra was that Papa gave her away. But as he always said, “Sweet baby, I had your grandma for many years, you but a few. This is my way of correcting that injustice.”

How a Zing Tao of the Ninth Order could have such love in his heart, such compassion—well, that was the very thing that Ji saw in Papa. “Love was Truth,” Ji would say with all seriousness. “No Truth, no Zing Tao,” he quickly added with a laugh that put everyone at ease.

According to Papa, Ji had an outstanding sense of humor. “Humor reminds us what we don’t know. Why do you laugh," Ji would often query a new recruit. Of course, no one knew where laughing came from and before the questioned could make a fool of him or herself, Ji would slap his hand down on the table making as large a booming noise as possible exclaiming, “And That’s the Point! Don’t know.” And with a sparkle in his eyes, Ji would let out a booming laugh that echoed the love within his heart for teaching.

Time for some snizzle. Ah, if only Papa had build Goldie to enjoy it with her.

42. Twenty-Four Hours

Zael CIC could not believe their eyes. Broadcasting on Zael’s formerly ultra secure comm channel z9 with a signal as clear as next door, Javalina General Jarzuphis demanded unconditional surrender of the entire planet. Zael command had twenty-four hours to comply or be annihilated from the universe.

Outgoing comms were jammed. Decisions had to be made and no information had arrived from Ji's task force with an ETA. Best estimates put the time of arrival several hours post surrender deadline. With secure communications compromised and Javalina jammers effectively in place, Zael was all but surrounded and isolated. One could only hope Ji had received their last urgent communiqué.

Could they play for time? Was there another option? No one knew, but Zael command worked like condemned prisoners on death row. In a sense, that’s exactly what they were. Sweat poured, minds cracked, and tempers flared. Javalinas took no prisoners. Annihilation mean the compete destruction of their species. All options were now open for discussion.

41. Wabi Wabi

While Zeke waited to meet with Ji, the rest of the Zing Tao contingent passed the time playing Wabi Wabi. Articulated fast, Ji developed the game to sharpen the connection between sight and mind in distinguishing between illusion, delusion and correct view within four dimensions.

To play, a Zing Tao would stand before a floor length holographic screen of floating discs. Each disc was similar to the one next to it, yet slightly different. Moving quickly, the discs rotated while moving up and down. Some discs were real, some were not. Whenever two discs lit up, a warrior had a split second to determine if they were a match, if they both were real, and then if he could tag both before the lighted discs blinked off. With each correct match, the game sped up.

Each player played until he incorrectly identified a match. Many Hynerian dinars traded hands. As Ji liked to teach, make it fun. Make the training such that the lesson gets lost in play. Wabi Wabi taught without anyone ever giving a thought that each game sharpened skills that could mean life or death. It was just fun--so they played. And so they learned--the Zing Tao way.

40. Scatalinas

Priority: Urgent
Location: CIC Zael
Dateline: 30:567:0982 M23


Message: Zael under intense attack. Stop. Wigglinas have attacked in the North and the South. Stop. Javalina command ships have launched wave upon wave of Scatalinas against CIC. Stop. Situation dire. Stop. Please advise on ETA. Over.

39. Discipline

Stepping inside the door, Lampré, Ji's personal assistant, greeted Zeke. No one knew exactly what kind of creature Lampré was since Ji had brought his friend from Brandonia. Lampré was thought to roughly translate to mean loyal and he or she or it was nothing if not loyal to Ji.

"Welcome lieutenant Zeke," Lampré purred. "Master Ji has been expecting your arrival. Please wait here."

Zeke was on time to the millisecond. He had paced his walk such that his hand touched the identification pad at the exact second of his appointment.

Contrary to public opinion, Zing Tao training involved no external discipline. No list of rules, no yelling, no berating, no breaking down the individual in order to rebuild them. Ji knew each candidate needed to retain their unique gifts and he also knew that discipline had to come from within.

Show up late for a meeting and you were out. Simple as that. You either were or were not, you either did or did not but in either case, it was up to you. So now Zeke would wait for Lampré to return. In a matter of minutes he would be stepping into Ji's inner sanctum.

38. Trial of Thorns

Zimmler training addressed fear; the Trial of Thorns, pain. Most Hynerian recruits saw pain as static, something solid, something to avoid, as something that happened to them. They were wrong on all accounts. Zing Tao indoctrination sought as much to untrain false view, to uproot years of deception, as it did to plant and water right view. Weed and plant, weed and plant. For Ji, pain provided the perfect place to start the weeding.

To say the Trial of Thorns was about pain really missed the point. According to Ji, pain equaled data, no more no less. Data used skillfully aided the warrior and data used unskillfully hindered. Dropping false ideas, simplifying view, seeking flow within the dynamic made Zing Tao warriors different from the rest. Many felt they had simply mastered skills and techniques. Ji didn’t see it that way. For him, training meant dropping, not picking up, it meant doing less, not learning more, it mean seeing pain for the friend it was, not the enemy loathed.

Those recruits who embraced pain and dropped their static, solid views of something out there graduated to advanced training. As a small token of remembrance, each graduating recruit was given a small mosaic plague depicting The Trial. No Zing Tao ever was far from this memento. Placing his right hand on the identification pad to enter Ji’s chamber, Zeke unconsciously ran the fingers of his left hand over the cobble like tiles on his plaque. Felt it gave him good luck.

With a familiar soothing whoosh, the door opened and Zeke walked in.

37. Zimmlers

Eighty paces, eight million thoughts. Zeke knew resistance and effort would work against his desire for calm and clarity. He resisted and worked anyway. He knew desire was the illusion, yet he could no longer shake that desire from his mind anymore than he could rub the black off his boots. He wasn’t ready, he wasn’t worthy and he knew neither thought was a friend of his. How did these enemies of truth enter and take root in his mind, whispering echoes of deceit so lightly as to make even a falling flutrix feather sound like the dull thud of a large tome falling from the top shelf.

Zeke’s mind started to move in slow motion. Images flashed like slides in a projector. First course: Zimmlers. Zimmlers struck fear, and so they were employed—first. Ji had no patience for recruits that did not possess the most basic aptitude for handling fear. They might make good Blue Onyx warriors, but not Zing Tao. No sense in beating around the bush. Day one, Zimmler training.

Zimmlers were native to Hyneria. Large creatures that lived in the high altitudes above the Southern Sea, they took to Hynerians like wild mustangs took to being rode. In the right hands Zimmlers could be ridden through the upper currents at heights unknown to the masses and at speeds no living thing could approach. They made the perfect training tool for Ji.

Mastering control of your Zimmler meant to master your fear. More than seventy percent of all recruits washed out of Zimmler training. Height and speed unwrapped their fear, tossing them to the side as quickly and carelessly as a child discarding wrapping paper on Christmas morning.

Zeke made it. He fixed his mind on that single success. Focus turned to concentration. He had made it pass the Zimmlers and now he would make it pass Ji.

36. North

The sound of a heavy boot on metal never harbors good tidings. Zeke walked like a man on his way to execution, each step planned, deliberate, slow and heavy with trepidation. Clanging out a metronomic pace, there was no other sound in the corridor but the steady slapping echo of metal on metal. Nor was another soul in sight. Zeke felt the coldness of his worry silence even the normal buzz of the hallway lights.

Several parsecs ahead, a more ominous thudding could be heard on Zael. Massive, lumbering Javalina Wigglinas had arrived in the north. These elephantine monsters descended from the sky with a deliberate slowness that mimicked Zeke’s pace. Each mammoth limb sought solid ground to imbed its metal jaws. Upon contact with the planet, ice cracked with the sound of a whip, shards flew in all directions slaying anything in the path of flight, and the planet shook as if the very land was under attack. And so it was.

Wigglinas were the cruel invention of a warped mind. Designed to destroy the very land of the enemy, they gave a whole new meaning to cruelty in warfare. Destroy the land, poison the water, and retreat to watch the local population die a slow and merciless death of starvation and thirst. The machines and the minds that put them to use were heartless bastards. Wigglinas made the land inhabitable for decades. They were only used when one just didn’t care.

Metal clang in the corridor. Metal thud on Zael. One could imagine the two sounds moving in parallel, in unison, the twisted humor of fate, smiling at the opening act of destinies forever to be joined.

_____________________

And South

35. Golden Child

Zeke knew the history. Ji came from royalty on Brandonia. At a very early age royal sages hailed Ji as the next golden child, one with unnatural superior ability and as such was raised as the blessed one. Ji fulfilled all expectations and then exceeded them. Where there had been war, Ji brought peace; where darkness, light; where anger and hurt, love and mercy.

At the tender age of four hundred and thirty, Ji astounded everyone again. He laid down his reign. The golden age brought forth by the golden child had come to an end at a time of his choosing. He was stepping down at the height of his influence. Of course, many said Ji had accomplished everything that could have been done. There really was nothing left to do on Brandonia.

Within days of resigning, Ji was gone. Those closest to him speculated, but no one knew where he had gone, why he left, or what he was up to. More than a hundred years later the Hynerians knew. Grateful did not begin to explain their view of his gifts, and main jewel of which was Zing Tao.

And now, Zeke was about to meet Ji Qong in person. The walk from his abode to Ji's chambers made time stand still. Not more than eighty paces, Zeke felt the weight of each step as if gravity had suddenly multiplied by a factor of ten. So much for the serenity garden. All traces of elevated serenton levels had evaporated. Zeke was on his own.

34. Serenity Gardens

Prior to meeting with Ji Qong, all Zing Tao were encouraged to spend time with their Serenity Gardens. Papa Kyra, known to his mates as Zeke, embraced the opportunity. Ji had introduced the gardens as part of every initiates training. Known to aid in calming and clearing the mind, they were cultivated and used like training wheels in clear seeing.

Each initiate received one blue bamthem flower along with one pinkish purple flutrix. Bamthems and flutrices thrived on the level of surrounding serenity in their immediate environment. Yet, the relationship between the owner and flowers and flutrices was not one-way. Creatures of pure peace, bamthems and flutrices emitted a slightly sweet perfume with pollination and germination, almost unnoticeable, which interacted with Hynerian neocortexes in inducing the release of serenton, a rare chemical (similar to serotonin in humans) that relaxed the body and cleared the mind of wayward and random thought.

The garden’s owner, the bamthems and the flutrices worked together, almost symbiotically to promote a sense of peace, tranquility and serenity. The more accomplished the gardener, the more bamthems grew and the more the flutrices reproduced. The most accomplished Zing Taos had serenity gardens of many thousand of bamthems and flutrices, a sign they had reached superior levels of equanimity.

Zeke only had a handful of bamthems to go with his few flutrices. Yet, the sweet smell of serenity filled the air of his small abode. Troubles and worries quickly fell away like unbound shackles. A sense of freedom from illusion created an expansive clarity Zeke hoped to one day recreate without the aid of his garden. Today, however, was not that day. He was going to need all the help he could muster to not look like the blustering novice he felt himself to be. Of course, he knew, Ji would see right through him, but he also knew Ji would see his intent and heart and that had to count for something.

33. Dorfel riding Shells

As Brave-Four-Zero quietly slipped through the night, Kyra dreamed of more innocent times with Papa. Shells riding the midnight waves on the back of Valla's own famed Dorfels turned her cheeks upward. Even in slumber, her imagination saw the most spectacular things that made others wonder how that brain of hers worked. She didn't know either, but she was going to need every bit of imagination she could muster on the journey ahead. For now, just sweet slumber.

32. Flashbacks (3): The Last Dispatch

Priority: Extreme Level 10 Code Red
Location: Outpost 643 Subsector 5
Dateline: 24:567:0982 M23


Message: Outpost surrounded. Stop. Situation desperate. Stop. Transmitting all scientific logs. Stop. Last rites performed. Stop. May Ji Qong revenge our souls. Over.

31. Zaels (Part 2) Operational Background

Zing Tao warriors trained in the ways of peace as well as the ways of war. An elite group within the Blue Onyx special section, their methods and ways were neither well known nor fully appreciated. For instance, Hynerian Peace Flowers were a direct result of Zing Tao cultivation, the weaving together of beauty and science with the unseen thread of peace educated by compassion and instructed by love. No one outside Zing Tao monasteries could explain how they were created or how they worked. Results, however, spoke for themselves.

The tragedy of Zael presented Papa with his first experience in the field upon ordination within the elite branch. They say the first cut is always the deepest, and from the number of times he liked to tell the story, Zael and his experience there seemed forever branded in his memory.

Zael was part of a distant subsystem of planets that were fairly off the beaten path. Not a lot of activity and really no reason for anyone to venture in that direction. Zael did have one feature that made it valuable, namely the creatures that populated the area and named for the very subsystem they called home. Zaels live in and around Zael, yet whenever anyone spoke of Zael, the reference surely referred to the creatures and not the system.

Zaels possessed perhaps the most unique physiology known to Hynerians. Each Zael had dual coloring and each color performed multiple unique functions. The purple part of the organism sustained life in outer space, while the green segment maintained the organism on any of the planets within the subsystem. How this could be remained a mystery.

Hynerians knew of no other creature whose primary habitat was planetary while also able, completely unaided, to live and thrive equally well in the vacuum of space. Herein lay their value. Hynerian scientists had hoped to learn how this was possible, how a creature could literally have two totally different biological systems, yet still function as a single entity. Zing Tao warriors, in particular, were fascinated with the philosophical implications implied in dualism manifesting as oneness. A kinship formed between the two and they were the first to volunteer when trouble was realized.

Zaels were also unique in that there was no such thing as male and female Zaels. Each creature contained both sexual functions. Since they experienced no internal conflict between their dual sexual natures, the creatures tended to reproduce at a prodigious rate. We might have called them the rabbits of the universe. Wherever there was one Zael, there was sure to be hundreds of baby Zaels.

There in lay the trouble. The more the Zaels reproduced the more resources they consumed. Only a matter of time before their numbers constituted a threat to other species within the subsystem. Reports of war had worked their way from Hynerian scientific outposts to Hyneria, but such reports were all too common place and no one took them too seriously.

Problem was, Zaels were peaceful creatures with little means to defend themselves. Once neighboring Javalinas lauched their attack, slaughter was the only word to describe the wholesale destruction. By the time the seriousness of the situation became clear, only Zing Tao warriors stood a chance of stopping the carnage. Papa Kyra’s unit was the first to arrive on the scene and what he saw forever stood as a milestone between his innocence and the rest of his life.

30. In Transit

Ji Qong, Zing Tao master of the Ninth Order, held command of this mission. Ji had not been on a field mission for more than 30 years, instead splitting his time between the Way of Tranquility training ground and private retreat. His powers were beyond imagination. The Ninth Order was a class of one-Ji.

His mere presence raise both confidence and concern. The mission would succeed. With Ji, there was no other option. Each Zing Tao would have private counsel with Ji sometime before first contact. Papa Kyra wasn't sure if he was more afraid of first combat under fire or meeting privately with Ji.

Ji was more than six hundred years old. He came from the Janus sector, a member of the Brandonian tribe of biomorphs. Known for wisdom beyond Hynerian reach, Brandonian biomorphs intuitively knew or could learn in a matter of minutes any language.

Ji was taken by the Hynerian love of wisdom and peace and decided to start his own monastery, taking on pupils one at a time. Zing Tao was his teaching. No Ji, No Zing Tao. His influence brought the best and brightest to the Way of Tranquility, and as such the Zing Tao section quickly became without question the elite factor of force within the Blue Onyx.

Papa Kyra joined for this one reason. Now, he was going to meet Ji Qong for the first time, just days before his first engagement. What does one say to a six hundred year old Ninth Order Zing Tao master? Perhaps that was the wrong question.

29. Flashbacks (2)

Priority: Extreme Level 10
Location: Outpost 643 Subsector 5
Dateline: 20:567:0982 M23


Message: Outpost under attack. Stop. Taking incoming fire from Javalina Destroyers. Stop. Not sure how much longer we can hold out. Stop. Where the [censored] is that [censored] help?! Stop.

28. Move Out!

The last distress signal was two weeks old. Silence packaged in disbelief permeated the transport. With no time to prepare, each Zing Tao was given standard issue identification cards in the first prep meeting onboard their transport.

Papa Kyra did his best to look studious, studying every aspect of the Javalina Main Command Dreadnought. He hoped no one noticed the sweat dripping down his forehead. Years of working with fear were about to be put to the test. So far, fear had the upper hand. The older hands onboard knew and he felt, without words, their compassion and undying brotherly love. Once a Zing Tao, one was a Zing Tao for life. The brotherhood was small and about as tight knit as was Hynerianly possible.

Not much was known about Javalinas. They were known to be aggressive and technologically advanced, but other than that, subsector Zael was still vastly unexplored. What little they knew came from the several scientific outpost established to study Zael duality, a subject near and dear to the heart of all Zing Tao.

Zael Studies, what few had been published, fascinated the entire Zing Tao community. The first distress reports were disturbing. The second and third stuck fear and from fear action. Papa Kyra's transport would be the first to reach the sector. It had been two weeks since the last relay message had been received. No one quite knew what to expect.

27. Flashbacks

Priority: Extreme
Location: Outpost 643 Subsector 5
Dateline: 13:567:0982 M23


Message: Urgent. Javalinas have launched full scale attack against the Zaels. Request immeadiate aid. Repeat, request immeadiate aid. Over.

26. Love is always Truth

A brief interlude in the Zael story. Below, and you must click on the image to see it's beauty because for whatever reason the small image on blogger looks horrid, are two Hynerian Peace Flowers. They always come in twos and signal the desire for union with another. I send these out tonight to all my wonderful friends who have brought me so many gifts with so many heartfelt comments. Wishing all of you Peace tonight. Please accept these as a small token of my appreciation. Part 2 of the Zael story should be up later tonight.

25. Zaels (Part 1)

“Looks deceive,” Papa Kyra whispered into his darling’s tender ear. “What color is this shell Kyra?”

“Just plain old white Papa,” Kyra muttered rolling her eyes while biting her lower lip, a sign Papa knew was her way of saying hurry up and say what you got to say.

Holding the “just plain old white shell” in his tanned and leathery hands, Papa raised it up to the sun and ever so slowly begin to rotate the pearl-like hull until a single ray of sunshine revealed a dazzling display of kaleidoscopic color and intricate detail that could only be seen from the right perspective. Kyra giggled with delight as Papa once again tickled her brain in ways that would forever change how she saw the outside world. How she saw life from the inside would have to wait a few more years.

Kyra laid in bed, memories of Papa, the beach and those many lessons dancing in her mind’s eye as vividly as if they had happened yesterday. As Kyra grew older, her Papa’s language became a little more colorful. She was never sure if this was his attempt to relate to a teenage girl, or if he just felt comfortable enough to treat her like one of the boys. Really didn’t matter, because for her, Papa hung the many moons that graced the nighttime skies over Valla cove. She still felt that way today.

“The unskilled mind cavorts with that slut of a sense called sight. The two together romp with boisterous raucousness, caring not the havoc and pain they leave in their wake,” Papa would say with a sly smile and twinkle in his eye, knowing the words he had chosen would indelibly stick in her mind like red passion fruit juice on a new white blouse. Somehow, she had the sense Papa had ruined many a young lasses’ white blouses with a bit of passion fruit juice. The old man still had it; he still had that spark of wonder in life and in his step. His mind was as bright as she imagined it had ever been.

“Opinions form and hearts harden without direct communication,” his words rolling off the scars of his own heart. “The enemy, Kyra, is not sight, not something out there; the enemy is thought untethered from awareness, a stranger to wisdom and a destroyer of relationships. Trust not the eye alone Kyra.” That one phrase she could have tattooed to her forehead. It might have saved her from hearing the story of the Zael’s just a few less times. (to be continued)