The Wild Ba’Neesh Chapter Twenty-Four ©2019 Fay Thompson All Rights Reserved

Of course, everyone was listening. Many were hiding grins. All of them were thinking. Technically, Mick was correct, the Order of the Guardians of the Grove, and their public branch, the Directorate, were in the business of protecting the Homo Soekenesis, female first. Yes, it was true that Mick and the Neeshatari had stolen two Directorate vessels, but could you really steal from yourselves as the corporation that was the Directorate was theoretically shared equally by all Soek, known or unknown, Order-born or not. Had he just borrowed the vessels? And, technically, while he had indeed damaged the floater, he hadn’t blown it up, the CEO of the Directorate had chosen to do so, himself. A clear logical argument.

Discussion was most heated in the confinement area and within the Citadel itself. Was Mick an enemy of all Homo Soekenesis? What about the Neeshatari, did they really want to position her as an enemy? Nearly everyone had witnessed footage of the blue hand swatting the transport floaters like flies.

Thorne was inside a sealed room having a tantrum. Jordy had found Mael, Ornius, Brad, Anya, Moira and Xasper under the sigil in the Math Department headquarters, discussing everything with Calypso, Master Mathematician.

“Is math really like music?” Mael was demanding.

“We dance, don’t we Mael Strom?” Moira was eager to not be here. Her brain was yelling at her that the Akaitapi were coming and the local Ba’Neesh clearly didn’t remember what must be remembered. Urgency irritated her temper. She hated being behind. How could she/they have forgotten, they might as well be the immature Tule Soc Ba’Neesh, youngers.

“It can be.” Calypso nodded. “The basis of music and sound can be mapped mathematically and certain mathematical combinations act on the brain of the receiver. How do you think Speech works? Vrill has mutative and conversion properties. And, as Moira says, we dance. Inevitably all casting involves math. Timing, duration, distance, rhythm, patterns, these are the easy to see translations. One of the reasons this sigil is so powerful is because we actually mapped it with math as well as with Soek intuition.”

Everyone looked up. You couldn’t be in the presence of The Sigil without looking up. It was famously powerful, a reminder of Mael’s dimensionalization of the sigil idea.

Outside the outer hatch the two OrderSec operatives and Morty were also arguing. It seemed clear to the operatives that Mick was correct. It was equally clear to Morty that the submarine was stolen, a violation that security should remedy. It really bothered Morty that Mick had sent for him. Was he captive or what? Man his station. The absolute nerve of the kid. He hated that he felt a sense of abandonment, a nerve Mick had touched too easily. And, who was this Neo kid messing with his specs? What did they need to know range for? He wanted to shoot at something beyond a static target, the idea this kid might shoot his weapons for real was the real kicker.

The hatch spun and opened. One of the two OrderSec operatives and a DireSec operative were half-dragging the stunned other operative. They plopped him down outside the hatch. “He’ll have to sleep it off out here.” Elias said. “You three ready to head in?”

The operatives nodded.

“Go on through, we will shut this and follow you.”

It bothered Morty that the DireSec guy wasn’t the least bit concerned with what Morty might do. It offended Morty’s fighter instinct. He noted the bruises on the operatives face. This had to be the operative that had been on the floater. He got to shoot and kill stuff. Lucky bastard.

He arrived at the pillar to find a stringy older kid in a three-quarter student’s robe with the entire control panel open and flashing.

“That’s mine!” Morty yelled, trying to charge forward. He ran straight into a beautiful Soek wearing OrderSec. An operative holding a stunner and an eager grin.

“Try me.” Rojer encouraged. “Uncle Morty, right?”

Morty paused. There wasn’t a good way to win against a weapon and a person eager to use it. He glowered, only then noticing Master Healer Jeffrey kneeling next to the naked aggravated red legs of a boy wearing what looked like a napkin. This was Mick? He tried to reconcile his outrage with what was clearly a badly hurt boy. No eyebrows. That sucked. What had the kid said, “Sorry for the brain wipe.” No one had ever said that to Morty. This kid had been brain wiped too. Morty remembered feeling the molcom die inside his head when the blue one ordered everyone to encapsulate. No more brain wipe. This kid.

“Hey Morty.” Mick said, “Rojer’s an ass, ignore his words. Although, I yell out heinous crap too when I’m fighting. Apologize in advance, likely I will yell Uncle at you. I get excited.”

“I get excited too.” Morty said, seeing the pile of medical stuff on the floor next to Mick. “You doing okay?”

“Not really, but Jeffrey will sort me out, hopefully.” Mick sounded tired. “So, Serla is going to be here in a few hours based on what my crap for memory brain recalls. He will expect you and Neo and Raiko and Volkano and Moira and Mael and well all of Citadel to be on it in terms of weaponry. Range is important. Help Neo here. Likely you messed up some faces in Central Command based on the condition of your knuckles. You us or still being a belligerent bastard?”

Morty felt like he was chewing unspoken words. He wanted to yell, to make demands, to start a fist fight. Instead he looked down the corridor at the diffuse blue light and back at the obviously hurting boy, young man? He knew himself to be a belligerent bastard by nature, always ornery, only his weapon systems loved him. “Neo, huh?”

“Yeah. He is going to piss you off.” Mick nodded. “I suspect Serla will too. Channel that into getting our lame-ass weaponry improved. Time shortens.”

Those in the sigil room had gone silent when Morty was moved. At the last, Mael said, “how short a time?” He knew they couldn’t ask. Maybe Serla knew already. Mick seemed to be leaning heavily on Serla’s arrival.

Morty’s thick body belied his youth, he looked grizzled, like a bear. He glowered at Neo. He looked like he could break Neo in half with his bare hands, Neo thought so too.

“You touch me, Morty and Rojer will stun you or worse. Got it?” Neo said.

“Wuss.” Morty answered. “My hand has more muscle than your entire body.”

“Yeah, you are thick.” Neo noted sarcastically. “So, you know these weapons or not?”

“Move over.” Morty tried to muscle Neo away from the controls.

“I don’t think so.” Neo stood his ground and Rojer stepped forward.

“He won’t be watching all the time.” Morty threatened.

“Someone will, until you discover I’m faster than you.”

“Bastard.”

And, that’s how it went. Mick almost immediately tuned the two of them out. Life was too short to listen to gaming hustle on focus.

“Any chance you have a non-drugged cake hiding around?” He asked Jeffrey. “I am itchy.”

Elias had the boys and the operatives dragging bedding rolls in near the pillars. It seemed clear they were staying put, for the moment. Elias thought that was smart. Likely the crew of the sub was struggling with both the Ba and the changing circumstances a bit like he was with his own head. Staying out of sight allowed people to settle. Clearly Mick didn’t intend to do anything with those confined besides hold them for awhile. He could guess the confined men and Soek were arguing the merits of Mick’s argument. Had they stolen the sub? Arguments obviously could be made either way. But, no direct threat had been offered from the sub toward anyone. To Elias’ mind, Thorne had lost this one too. He hoped Jordy was riding out the storm that was Thorne when he was upset. Politics, the most hated aspect of his job. Former job.

Elias looked at Mick, now laying back on bedding. What was his job now? It focused on Mick and down the hall on Her. It intrigued him that Mick had handled this with nothing more than argument and a blue light. Elegant. He knew Mick’s loneliness and had felt its echo inside of him. Why had the Directorate allowed the molcom to cut off the Ba? That worried him. His job was analysis and security. He stepped over to Rojer and waved the three OrderSec operatives into a huddle. He clarified. “Mick is ground zero. Neo is next, mostly we will need to stay on top of Morty, he’s a loose cannon. Shifts, eight hours apiece. I’m going to sleep because when Mick is down it is my time because when Mick is up we have to be top of our game. Serla is coming. If you don’t know who he is, research through your wrist com. If they try to block your com, yell for Mael after waking me up. Don’t wake me up. Neo likely can fix it too. Think.”

The operatives nodded, authority felt comfortable, duty normal. They divided up and one at a time they explored the space in detail, from one end to another. Volkano accompanied them, raiding the floater in passing to bring out three torches and more food.

(Build time. This made me grin on so many levels. Clearly Morty fits in, don’t you think? More tomorrow! Enjoy.)