Stranded (Caveman Chronicles)

~ I. Graham Smith ~ Leave a comment

The Index -|-

When Zara snipped the three, green lines, the ship blinked. Every shred of visible light switched off instantly. In Zara’s alternate perceptive view of the aji realm, every aji connected to the Hsstak also went dark. This had never happened to her, and the new situation was quite jarring.

“That didn’t work like I planned,” she said quietly. She raised her hand slowly and then felt the floor slide away from her feet. It was a new sensation of weightlessness; not at all pleasant. Her hand, mere inches from her face was invisible.

Viinox chittered quietly. “Hsstak is broken.”

“How do we fix it, Viinox?” Zara reached out to grasp something, anything to provide an anchor, but she found nothing. Her arms and legs were disconnected from reality and twitched with weird and awkward swimming motions. In the darkness, her inability to see and move caused a cacophony of disquiet to rise. “What’s happening?!” she asked.

Suddenly, a pale green glow appeared as Vinnox pulled a hand tool out of its waistband. “The core of Hsstak must be purged and then reset. I will help you.”

Zara could now see that she was floating above the floor at an odd angle. She tried, but had no means of propelling herself forward. Fortunately, her initial movements had caused momentum, and that momentum carried her ever so slowly toward the mottled, grey ceiling.

Oiitr moved quickly and directly toward one of the red-tiered devices on the other side of the room. It arrived, and landed with poise and grace that surprised Zara. She could see that the back of its suit issued alternating streams of air from two tiny nozzles.

“I need a suit like that,” she said. “Odd though, it doesn’t use any aji.”

Oiitr turned with its hand resting lightly on the device. “These suits are specially made for Jariit and other specialize Xi roles. The propulsion is old technology.” It sunk and began to pull a panel off the lower side of the device.

Viinox spoke up. “Certain sensors on Hsstak are built with a feedback loop. These are generally connected with more than one aji line of type Etui. If you cut those, the ship’s system will be corrupted.” It raised its hand as if teaching a class. “We must proceed with the purge and reset. Please watch.”

Viinox pulled a panel off the nearest red-tired device and began to disconnect various tubes and wires. Oiitr did the same, and Tiirw only watched Zara. After a few moments, Viinox and Oiitr looked at each other and then each of them began to pull a lever repeatedly.

It made no sense to Zara. [Aji is not physical, and yet they pull and push physical parts of Hsstak. How odd.]

“If Hsstak is broken, why did all aji in your suits cease? And what is your tool powered with?” Zara pointed at Viinox’s pale, green light.

Viinox ignored her and pumped the lever four more times before stopping. It looked at Oiitr and then pressed another set of protrusions in sequence with Oiitr. The panels they were at began to glow with a weak and sickly yellow light. Viinox turned toward Zara. “The purge has been completed. Now we must reset the core.”

“Please explain it for me.” Zara looked at Viinox and then at Oiitr with a look that she hoped conveyed something between respect and power.

Viinox looked at Oiitr and lifted its chin slightly.

Oiitr spoke. “The ship’s aji store is located in the standard Qiah froji basin. The twelve interlapping imami fields contain the positive hu-pairs in a tensile and fractal state, and they repel negative hu-triads. It is the froj that must be purged when the negative hu-triads penetrate the bath and change the pH.”

“Urh,” said Zara nodding slowly while she repeated what she thought she had heard. “Hsstak stores aji in a bucket… er, basin, and then since they’ve been corrupted by the who-triangles the frogs have to be purged.”

“Froj.” If it was possible, Oiitr was even more deadpan than it would normally be considering that it was a member of such an outwardly emotionless race.

“Great. Well… Now to the reset.” She pointed. “I see yellow lights, which is good, right? No aji though. Did it all leak out when we purged the frogs?”

“Froj.” Oiitr gave Viinox a side-eye before speaking again. “Hsstak will take days to replenish its aji stores and reset the balance. Until the reset is complete, we have limited atmosphere generation capabilities and no ability to see, communicate, or fight.”

“This is a bad thing since the First Terminal will come to find us.” Zara looked around at the others. Tiirw still only watched her with its sharp, blue eyes, and Viinox studied her face as she spoke. “If the Xih arrive before the reset is complete, what will happen? We can move, right?”

“If they Xih arrive during our reset, we will surely die. Their protocol is to destroy any potential outbreak.” Viinox looked at Tiirw. “What was your exact message to the First Terminal?”

Tiirw paused before speaking slowly and clearly as if reciting a studied phrase. “Hsstak has experienced a Class IW outbreak. We require assistance.”

After a short pause, Viinox spoke again. “Nothing about Ixant?”

Tiirw tilted its chin downward. “Iqw Okrat would not allow the news of your capture or your status as Ixant be transmitted until it had completed its research. If First Terminal received news of an outbreak involving an Ixant, they would send a fleet immediately.”

Zara nodded. “I hope they don’t know. We need time to disappear before they come to find us.” She looked around the command center at her three, captive Xi.

[I wonder who the real captive is here? Have I successfully kept their respect? Or fear?]

Each of the Xi looked at her and remained silent as if waiting for an answer.

Zara sighed. [The truth is, I need them. I have no idea how this ship is designed or how it works at all. How can I even begin to get back home to Da without them? What can I do to make sure they keep obeying me?]

The train of thought was unsettling to her. She may hold the upper hand in some ways, but the Xi were not stupid.

[Where does the aji come from that replenishes the frog basin? What is Hsstak surrounded by in this dark void? There is so much I don’t know. I have to keep their loyalty.]

Zara cleared her throat and smiled at the Xi. “Is there anything productive we can do while we wait for the aji to refill?” She paused. “How about a tour of Hsstak?”

Viinox lifted its chin and awkwardly exited its sling. “Yes. There is much to show you.” It waved with a three fingered hand and walked toward the door.

Zara looked at Tiirw and Oiitr. “You will come with us.”

They followed without a sound.

Overseer (Caveman Chronicles)

~ I. Graham Smith ~ 1 Comment

The Index -|-

Zara quickly sliced her bonds and clambered off the table. A smallish pile of silica dust with a subtle green tint lay where Mangas had stood only moments ago. She glanced toward the brown-robed Xi, and though its body was intact, it did not move.

Viinox had sunk to its knees and clutched its arm in what appeared to be a futile attempt to stem the blood flow. Gray blood oozed from between its fingers. Its face was still and emotionless, but Zara thought that its eyes carried a hint of suffering.

“Do you feel pain?” asked Zara quietly.

Its three-fingered hands clenched tighter. “I will become riaat soon.”

Zara noticed that Viinox avoided the question about pain, and she remembered what Mangas had told her. The silica dust, riaat, was the next stage of a Xi’s life, after their body was ended.

“If you promise to serve me, I will stop your bleeding.” She eyed Viinox and then – without waiting for a response – cloaked the end of its arm in a hot, yellow field of aji.

It must have immediately felt the change as its eyes widened slightly. “Why would you allow me to stay?”

“I need you to explain why I am here. I have many questions.” Zara shrugged.” Also, I will require your services. Trust me,” she smiled coldly, “your services will pay for what you’ve done to me and my family.”

There was only a short pause, before Viinox answered, and Zara could not know what bizarre thoughts must have ricocheted through its mind.

Vinnox lifted its chin. “I will stay and serve.”

“Great. Stay here for a moment.” Zara rose and walked toward the dark-robed Xi that had used the painy-brain staff on her. “Hello there. Are you becoming riaat soon?”

Its eyes twitched, and then its head jerked to bring her into better view. After a moment, its lips moved slightly as it spoke in a quiet silvery voice that was eerily similar to that of Mangas. “It was correct. You do not know what you are nor what the aji-ko has in store for you. I will watch you die”

“Who was correct?”

“Mangas the Overseer as you have called it.”

“Mangas the dead, you mean. Right? Mangas the pile of riaat.” Zara pointed toward the other side of the room. “Mangas the not-gonna-work-here-anymore anyway.”

The Xi was impassive and silent in the face of her taunts.

“Well, that’s fine. Just remember as you riaat yourself into a little pile that I will ruin your kind for what you have done.” Zara raised her index finger, and though only she could see it, a pencil-thick rod of green aji extended from her finger onto the Xi’s forehead. She smiled malevolently down at the Xi.

Viinox approached her from the left and stood near her side.

Zara twitched her finger in a swirly shape and poked downward. The brown-robed Xi shuddered, and its eyes rolled to the side. Its neck-slits fluttered erratically for a few moments and then stopped. Within a short time, a green-tinted pile of riaat shaped something like a bipedal being lay on the floor where its body had been.

Zara looked around the room. Of the seven Xi at her table plus the one that was robed in brown, only Viinox remained. She turned to Viinox. “How many Xi are left on the Hsstak?”

“Two. One was here and escaped when you attacked. The other is Oiitr.”

“Only two?”

Viinox lifted its chin. “Tiirw has certainly contacted the monocratic relay by now and will be informing the First Terminal of your escape.”

Zara nodded. “Take me to it, and bring Oiitr.”

Viinox approached the wall and a door sized hole silently appeared. A doorless corridor of sorts stretched ahead of the opening for at least 20 paces. Its ceiling was curved in a wave-form, having varying surfaces on all three dimensions. Viinox continued to the end of the corridor without stopping, and as it approached, a similar door-sized hole appeared.

Zara noticed that her perception of aji expanded significantly as soon we she stepped through the door. A colored web expanded in all directions, and there were other colors that she had never seen. When she reached the end of the corridor, Zara looked back in the direction they had come. The door at the other end was gone. [I’m definitely going to need a few of lessons here.]

Before Zara stepped through the opening, she brandished a shield of Qon and waited for some kind of attack. The room was only partially lit, and two Xi sat in slings near the far wall. The entire angular perimeter of the room was lined with red devices, some touching the next device and some separated by gaps. The flows of aji between the devices were so many that she had never imagined the scope of what she saw.

“I have informed First Terminal of the situation here,” said one of the Xi.

Zara wrapped both of the seated Xi in cords of aji instantly and approached. “Stop all communications outside this vessel immediately.” She would have done it herself, but she was unsure which of the flows she needed to cut or how much damage she might cause to the ship.

Oiitr spoke up. “There are no communications active this time.”

Zara looked at Viinox for confirmation.

“It speaks truth.”

Zara stared at each of the Xi deliberately for a handful of long moments. [Even Viinox could be only telling me what I want to hear. Can I really trust any of them? … Do I have a choice?]

“Viinox, sit” Zara motioned to one of the empty slings.

It did not hesitate.

“Viinox has agreed to stay and serve me. You may join us. If you betray me at any time, I will kill you. Make your choice.”

There was no response for many moments, and Zara knew they had to consider and debate. After what seemed like a reasonable time, she spoke again.

“I know you can speak telepathically. You may even believe that you can plot against me and win. You know that I am Ixant, and perhaps what I am capable of.”

“What happens if I do not choose to stay and serve?”

Zara looked at Oiitr with a surprise that quickly hardened into steel. “If you refuse, I will kill you now, and eject your riaat into the void.”

Eyes widened and neck-slits fluttered on each of the Xi, including Viinox.

You three are the only Xi left on the Hsstak, am I right?”

Viinox raised its chin and with its remaining arm gestured toward a data cloud hovering above a red box. The data had nine globs of light and three of those pulsed a deep orange.

“I will stay and serve,” said Tiirw with a slight raising of its chin.

“And you, Oiitr?”

“Yes, I agree to your terms,” Oiitr said.

Zara was unsure about Oiitr’s response, but she has no means of proving or disproving its loyalties. “Good. Now I need some information. First. will your First Terminal find us soon?”

Tiirw lifted its chin. “The Hsstak has a beacon. They will come for us, but it will take time.”

“Unless they can use another Xih craft like Hsstak,” said Viinox.

“Can we disable this beacon?” Zara understood the concept, but had no frame of reference for how it might work.

“I do not believe we can,” said Oiitr.

“You are Ixant. Perhaps you can disable it,” said Tiirw. “I will show you the schematic.”

Its arms twitched, and Zara remembered her bindings. She loosed them, and Tiirw reached for a nearby panel.

“Viinox, why did you help me kill Mangas?”

Viinox shifted in the sling and its eyes slid left to look at the other Xi. “Iqw Okrat, or Mangas as you call it, is the overseer on Hsstak.”

“Was,” said Zara. “Unless it can remain the overseer as a pile of riaat.”

Tiirw lowered its chin. “I believe you are the overseer of Hsstak now.”

“Mangas was a cruel and terrible Xih. We are among the most skilled scientists, and it treated us as slaves.”

“Why? What is the purpose?”

“Mangas is Xih. The purpose of Hsstak is to research indigenous life such as yourself.”

“You are all Xi. This does not explain why Mangas treats you terribly.”

Viinox tilted its head and then after a moment, it spoke again. “I understand. Mangas is Xih.” It accentuated the word with a subtle trailing hiss. “I- we are Xi. The Xih are different, surely you have noticed. They speak differently and they are taller among other traits. They are a culture in and of themselves. We are just Xi.”

Zara nodded and thought that she understood, at least a little.

“Overseer,” said Tiirw with a raised hand, “I can show you the beacon.”

“Show me.”

An incredibly complex exploded diagram appeared in the air before Zara. On the diagram, a small part pulsed. “Can you orient this so I can tell where I am in relation?”

“Yes.” The diagram spun and flickered as an outline of the room appeared.

Zara turned her head and looked at where the beacon should be. There were no aji flows in the diagram, but with her ability to see the invisible forces, she saw that three small, green flows ended where the beacon should be.

“I will disable the beacon.”

“Wait-!” Viinox spoke too late

Zara snipped the three green lines.

The Model

~ I. Graham Smith ~ 2 Comments

This afternoon, at precisely three-forty-one in the afternoon a man walked into a white goods store. You know, the one on Bank Vault Boulevard next to the new donut shop. The “goods,” if you could call them that, were not all white, though a select few might be described as off-white. The man, middle-aged and grumpy, suffered from a mild case of hemorrhoids. He also experienced a different kind of pain that stemmed from a highly receding hairline.

“False advertising,” says he to himself with a terrible frown. His disenchanted gaze rested heavily on all of the products as his head panned left to right over the myriad brightly lit displays. An observant observer might notice that there were microseconds during this moment when his eyes fell an ounce or two lighter than his normal, unhappy gaze. One might construe the reason to be that in those moments, the goods his irritated gaze rested on were more aptly named “white goods.”

Despite the plethora of non-white goods, he was in the mood to spend some of his hard earned sats, and after days of research he believed that this store had a slightly higher chance of carrying in stock, that which he wanted to purchase. It was after all, the day after Thanksgiving.

[Black Friday. White goods,] he thought, noting the contrast of words, colors, and shopping seasons.

After his initial scan, his bearded neck retraced its course for a moment. There, ahead of him lay the computing devices in all their computational glory. His legs churned again, moving efficiently toward the three aisles that might host the object of his desire. The untethered ends of his unbuttoned flannel flapped in his wake, nevertheless, as he neared, he scanned the adjacent signs for clues.

“PCFriend: You’re astute, we compute. Friends?”

The man shook his head with a profound disgust and rolled his eyes. [Dumb slogan, and what’s with the puppy? Can’t just add a furry meat-sack with big eyes to your ad and expect me to buy it.]

“Compu-Tater: Hungry for more computational power? Buy a Compu-Tater today and fill that belly with powerful maths!”

“Fer peets…” he muttered aloud.

The third sign was a subtle pink and only contained the phrase, “I deliver what you desire.”

[What’s this?] His shoes followed his gaze.

As he approached the sales display, the computer gleamed in the light as if winking seductively at him. The screen was beautiful, wide and tall. Its bezel thin, elegant, and a deep blue. The man had never seen such an incredible display. Words froze on his tongue, and only a low whistle emanated unbidden from his lips.

The image, in millions of bright colors, shimmered slightly. It was a mountain lake, cool and clean. Wisps of summer breeze played on its surface, causing ripples. Its banks were loaded with evergreen trees that rose like majestic pikes against the sky, proclaiming the wonder of a free summer. The man heard a whisper from his past.

“Remember summers on the dock at White lake?” The words silently washed over his mind.

A dock materialized. Children ran with cries of joy, thumping down the boards before leaping and sailing into the waters with satisfying splashes.

“I can jump farther than you!” the man mouthed without making a sound. His eyes gazed intently at the display, yet they saw something far off, through the computer and into distant time and space.

Tap. Tap tap.

“Sir?”

With a slight start, the man’s eyes focused and his head turned. “Uh, yeah?”

“Is there anything I can show you?” The voice came from a very thin, young man with a prominent adam’s apple. His curly, blonde hair perched atop his head like a bird’s nest and it bobbed as he spoke.

Though he was middle-aged and a total grumpster, the man recovered quickly.

“Hey, thanks. I uh- I was just looking at this model right here.” His finger swept nonchalantly toward the blue-bezeled beauty.

“Oh, the Debonair XL good choice. These are really popular right now. In fact,” the young man stepped back slightly and gazed at the shelving under the display bench. “Oh right. In fact, we only have two of them left.” He stuck our his bony hand. “Name’s Joel by the way.”

The man took Joel’s hand loosely and let go too late, his soft hand leaving a weird sheen of awkwardness. “Uh, Damien.” He eyed the price tag and nodded to himself. “They get pricier every year, don’t they?”

“They do,” said Joel nodding sagely. “Fortunately, they also get so much more capable. This one is three-point-eight times faster than last year’s model, which is saying something.” He whistled. “PC Fab Mag rated last year’s model as the PC of the year. I expect this one will receive the same accolades.” Joel lovingly ran his finger over the sleek bezel.

Damien glanced at the screen again and heard an echo as the lake shimmered. “Well,” Damien said confidently and without looking at Joel, “I suppose I’ll take one.”

Joel, smiled understandingly. “Yes sir.” He crouched to look at the two boxes under the display. “Do you need any cables or accessories? We’re offering half-off on an Ortan Tanny digi-scope.” He stood holding a box.

Damien shook his head without considering. Only one thing was on his mind, and he had decades of experience dismissing the never-changing schemes of sales folk.

“It looks like both of these are the brushed teal color. You still want to pick one up?” Joel set the box on the counter.

Damien eyed the box, it’s professional design and images displayed the same machine that sat in front of him, but it was a subtle, textured teal. His eyes swung back to the model and weighed the rich blue against the misty teal. He could still hear the echoes of children playing faintly.

[I think it’ll be fine.]

“Uh, yeah. Sure. That’s fine.”

Joel smiled. “Yes sir. Same machine. I’ll get you right over here.”

###

When Damien got home, he ignored the cat. He ignored the smell of burnt cheese and bacon grease. He only spared a quick glance at the beef jerky scattered like confetti on the coffee table. Into the basement he went.

In two minutes, his desk was clean and ready to go. The old PC with its chunky, black tower ceased its whirring and cowered silently in the corner next to the door. The unboxing began. Each layer specifically designed to expose more and more joy. Damien felt excitement in his bones as he set aside the thin, quick-start pamphlet and the power cord. The computer was encased in a pressed, cardboard clam-shell, which he slid out of the box. The clam-shell opened, and carefully, Damien placed the PC face down on the desk.

He was a capable man, having under his belt years of fixing broken toys and assembling various household goods. In a few seconds, he had a flat head and a phillips screw driver ready. With a gentle stuttering sound, the cellophane came away from the back of the PC casing and revealed the glossy teal plastic. The desk stand was attached to the back with four mid-sized screws, and finally…. the Debonair XL rested on its own one leg.

Damien picked a corner of the cellophane on the front and pried it away with a fingernail. He had learned long ago to avoid knives and other sharp objects that marred the surface and caused a moment of internal remorse. With a careful but satisfying riiiip he pulled it off. Then he plugged in the power cord, keyboard, and mouse and stood back.

[I’ll have to install some things and get the printer set up… but later.] A momentary thrill shot up Damien’s spine. He remembered the sound of children’s voices, sun, and water. Subconsciously, he needed this suave, teal, rectangle to deliver.

He touched the button on the top-right of the screen. The button turned green and then the screen blinked and displayed a message.

DEBONAIR XL

It was a fancy logo that somehow contained the essence of motion. Damien’s lips curved imperceptibly into a smile as his anticipation elevated to a new peak.

Over the course of five seconds, the logo disintegrated into a cloud of rainbow colored sparks. When it had completed, a form asked him his name. With impatience, he typed “D-man.” It asked for a password, and he provided one: “hemorrhoids are terrible.” The machine paused for a few seconds and then moved on, and Damien frowned.

[Wifi? Come on. Death by a thousand cuts!] He knew that he was being impatient, but he could practically feel the sun on his toes and the rough dock on the flats of his feet.

“Leaving your worries behind…” the screen told him.

His eyes itched from staring, and a clatter came from behind him. He blinked and turned. The cat had followed him down and perched on the old, boxy tower. The power cord lay on the floor where it had fallen. Damien sighed and turned.

The screen was brightly lit and produced a beautiful, full-screen image in millions of sharp colors. His breath caught.

Rolling, pure white sand dunes stretched into the distance. The later afternoon sun accentuated the contour lines as sand inaudibly swirled in mysterious patterns.

Damien’s frown grew up and turned into a full-fledged adult.

He wondered in the silence. [Where is the lake?]

There was no response. No calling of children. No swimming or laughing. Not even the footprint of Bantha as might be found in the dunes of Tatooine.

He tapped the keyboard and the image dimmed and asked for his password. He grudgingly gave it, all while glaring at the slim, teal keyboard. Then, with a final tap on the [Enter] button, the screen flickered, blinked three times and displayed the same image.

Rolling dunes, white, sun, etc. This time with a few icons.

“Support,” he muttered. “Sure.”

He clicked the teal mouse on the icon marked “Support” and waited until the browser loaded. It asked him for his name. He glared and type “Damien.” It asked him for his location. He declined profusely while grunting unintelligibly under his breath. Finally, as his blood pressure neared stroke levels, he answered two more questions and received a chat box.

“Image of lake surrounded by evergreen trees.”

“…”

“Are you wishing to buy tickets to the LA Lakers?”

Damien’s mouth unexpectedly barked a light curse as if he had been diagnosed with tourette syndrome. To be sure, he would not be proud of it later… but he did it. Then he sighed loudly and aggressively typed a new message as if he were instructing a deaf and mute village idiot.

“Why does my Debonair XL not have the image of a lake surrounded by evergreen trees?”

“… Connecting …”

After a long moment, he received a reply.

“Good afternoon, Damien! My name is Alice. How may I help you?”

Damien clenched his fists and typed again with shaking hands.

“Why does my Debonair XL not have the image of a lake surrounded by evergreen trees?”

“…”

“The image that ships with each Debonair XL is randomly chosen, but you do have the option to personalize that image.”

[Okay, that seems reasonable.] His fingers, adept at computer work, clicked around quickly. [Yes. Options, personalize, background…] He scrolled through the list of available images, each one with the Debonair XL logo stamped in the the upper-right corner.

“Alice, the lake image isn’t one of the options.”

“…”

“Damien, let me check our documentation. One moment.”

Damien didn’t reply. He stewed. He pulled up his chair and sat, staring with indignation at the screen.

“…”

“… I believe the image you are looking for is not available.”

“Why?”

“That image is only shipped with the store demonstration models.”

Damien put his hands on his face and replayed the entire purchase experience through his mind in an instant.

“Can I buy the store model?”

“…”

“Unfortunately, the store demonstration models are loaded with special software and cannot be sold.”

Damien leaned back and then switched his gaze between his old computer and the new one. [This one does seem fast… but the old one works just fine.]

“…”

“Is there anything I can assist you with today?”

Damien huffed, but he couldn’t blame Alice, if that was even her real name.

“No. Thanks.” He clicked the Exit button and the chat disappeared.

His spirit sank. The room was silent except for a slight whirring noise from the Debonair XL’s fan and the sound of his cat licking one of its back legs. He glanced at the old computer. He turned back to the new one. The screen didn’t seem as bright, and the ultra-white of the sand dunes hurt his eyes.

He muttered only partly to himself. “Only available on the model. What kind of clown-college outfit do these idiots run?”

The cat raised its head, but it did not reply.

Mangas the Terrible (Caveman Chronicles)

~ I. Graham Smith ~ 1 Comment

The Index -|-

Zara stood with eyes closed awash in the power of Qon. Her breathing was light as Qon flowed around her and through the top layers of her skin. Her mass of curly, light-brown hair hung where it laid naturally, but it felt to her as if it flowed with Qon’s movements.

It was a gentle caress and seemingly as random as the breeze on a sunny day. It felt amazing. Zara rested for a long time. The peacefulness of being enveloped again, this time knowing that she had found it eased her mind. She slept.

It was later that she woke with a start. Her eyes opened, and she could see Viinox standing before the red-tiered device. Immediately, she reached out for Qon in a panic. In a split-second she found and latched onto it. Then she aimed its power at the aji flow above the red-tiered device. The false lines were cut as expected, but nothing changed in the flows and Viinox did not seem to notice.

[Even more false Qon! Was I dreaming?]

Her pulse raced, and she swiped at the aji again to no avail. With great effort, she calmed herself. After a moment, she reached out again, this time carefully pressing and probing beyond the obvious. With a sigh of relief, she found the real thing, invisible, golden, and tangible. After a few long moments, she could not resist. She snipped one of the yellow aji lines leading to the table surface she was laid on. The line quivered and shrank in on itself before simply disappearing.

Zara opened her eyes. There was no change in the room as expected. The yellow line was false aji after all. With a satisfied sigh, she closed her eyes again.

[I have Qon. I can escape… or should I wait and learn more? How much do I know about the Xi? Can I really defeat them?]

Zara remembered killing the many Xi when they captured her. She remembered the excruciating pain that seemed to pierce her brain. She remembered seeing Phaedro, her home, as an orb in space. She remembered her Da, Mama, Jial, and the other Ganix back home.

[I have to learn more. I can defeat them, but it will be with rage and blunt forces. I might kill myself in the process. How can I get back home to Da? Is Phaedro even nearby? I must know what the Xi know. I must wait.]

###

Time passed. It was really just a little time. To Zara, it seemed like an instant, flowing in a stream of data harvesting, brain bending, and planning.

She had just tapped into Hsstak’s main data stores, and then it happened.

The tall, primary Xi appeared in the room followed by five of its associates. Viinox turned from its station and took a place on her left.

“Hello again,” said Zara with a shiver. She had only seen this configuration of the seven once before, at the beginning of her time on the Hsstak.

[What is going on?]

The primary Xi had refused to offer a name and so Zara had dubbed it “Mangas.” In fact, Viinox and Oiitr were the only two Xi on the Hsstak that had offered her their names.

“We have been studying your patterns, and our calculations predicted that this time would come eventually. You have broken the false aji.” Mangas’ head tilted slightly, and within a few seconds four of the other six Xi lifted their chins ever so slightly. Viinox and another one did not move.

[Agreement, but not unanimous.] Zara strengthened her grip on Qon and waited for the punchline.

Mangas hissed. “You have found your Qon. Yes?” It tilted its chin upward slightly and waited.

Zara was surprised by the direct statement. After a moment, she spoke. “Yes. Now you must negotiate me instead of treating me as a test subject.”

There was a pause as the all of Xi stood perfectly still. Then Mangas twittered in an odd manner, its noise even more breathy than normal. “Negotiate. Impossible.” Its head turned slightly toward the entrance. “Many Ixant have come and gone. You are not different. You are not out of our control.”

Zara smiled, having already noticed the Xi’s inability to see their own shortcomings. “Am I Ixant?”

Mangas looked at her and lifted its chin. Its neck slits fluttered beneath the high, silvery collar causing it to shimmer.

“You are Ixant. You are unaware of the past and the future. You do not understand the flows of aji or the inevitable treachery of the aji-ko. Like every Ixant before you, captivity and functionality are your lot in life. Now we must move onto the next phase in our research.”

Zara shrugged with an attempted air of unconcern, but inside she was tense.

[Do I kill them all now or wait?]

Mangas turned his head toward the side and blinked.

A searing and scraping pain penetrated Zara’s skull immediately. Her fingers tightened on the skin of her thighs until fingernails drew blood, but the pain did not register. Her voice whined in an uncontrolled shriek through her clenched teeth. She closed her eyes and desperately held on to Qon. The pain grew and she felt as if she were being dragged into a pit. Each moment, she lost a tiny grip on herself.

Her grip pulsed slightly, and she remembered. [The real Qon.] With a throaty cry she raised a weak sheet of Qon over her. The torment in her head ceased for a mere moment as the source was severed.

Zara unclenched her eyes and saw the seven Xi standing over her. Behind Mangas, a tall Xi in a brown, tight-fitting, robe held a towering staff. Her resolve strengthened when she saw its glinting, sharp teeth.

A thought flashed through her. [Kill the Xi, end the pain.]

But the pain struck again, even more ferocious than before, and she saw her blanket of Qon flutter and shatter. She had not meant it to be a shield. It had been only a panicked flailing in the dark. There could be no more unfocused attacks.

Zara grunted and quivered on the table. She felt as if she neared the edge of her stability again, and she knew that if she blacked out, she would not have another chance to escape. In the past, Zara had always had time to contemplate her work, to focus, and prepare. This time, she used Qon as blunt instrument. With all of her will, she focused a single, vicious strand of Qon forward toward the brown-clad Xi.

A strong hand gripped her neck just as the pain ceased broadcasting into her brainpan. Zara saw the tall staff tilt and begin to fall with its accompanying Xi, and her eyes turned toward the faces above her. Mangas bared its teeth and its hands began to throttle her tiny throat. The edges of her vision pulsed and grayed. She gasped for breath.

With a sweeping attack, she threw Qon in an arc toward Mangas and whoever stood next to her table.

Mangas’ grip loosed, and Zara inhaled deeply. She cloaked herself in Qon, and looked around the room. To her left, Mangas lay crumpled but moving. Toward the foot of her table on the floor, there were three piles of silica dust among various robes and silvery collars. The brown cloaked Xi lay face upward almost motionless, but Zara could see its eyes moving. To her right were more piles of silica dust.

[I have to get up and ensure that I am safe.]

She heard a noise and looked to her right only to gasp in horror. Viinox swung a portion of the tall staff downward toward her.

“No!” Zara croaked. She raised Qon, but it was too late.

The staff crossed her vision and struck home. Zara felt nothing, and blindly swatted with a thread of Qon.

[No pain?] She turned her head toward the left and saw Mangas clutching its chest where the broken staff protruded.

“Viinox?” She turned her head back to the right and saw Viinox clutching at what was left of his arm.