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

Eric didn’t really know where to take the craft. Weirdly, he realized he was tracing Mick’s footsteps. First, steal a craft, then hide it, then battle your way to freedom. What had Mick gained, a brain wipe. Could he do better? The difference between them centered on a ship full of Ba’Neesh and five other Soek, all upset. He needed to get out of sight. He circled the craft back toward the area of ground he knew best. Tule Soc, not the facility, but, Tule Soc’s Research Facility was near Hohle Fels (hollow rock), the generative of his surname, Felsen. He’d grown up in the area, on the edge of the Reserves. The famous cave called Hohle Fells and its massive cave system was long-since closed due to its fragile nature and a century or more of visitors doing damage to its truly ancient art. Hohle Fels was where the first ever Venus statue was found, made by Paleolithic early man.

At the last minute he diverted to an even more remote cave ruin named Brillenhohle. It’s two spectacle-like cave holes had collapsed into a single larger opening after an earthquake. He had once seen the still visible cave opening on satellite footage in an area of the Reserves deemed too dangerous for exploration. His craft should just fit into the cave with enough room to hide most of the craft under the remaining cave ceiling.

He had to finesse the craft into the tight space by switching to manual and flying it in himself. The fallen roof had made the cave floor a litter of boulders. He used the craft’s stabilizers to level the interior making the tight space even tighter.

Simon had watched this maneuver with a great deal of interest, standing behind the pilot’s chair. He noted that Eric Felsen used a lot of barely audible curse words while bumping the craft into the cave walls. Clearly they were hiding.

“Now what? They will likely want to pee soon.” Simon asked. “I know I do. Is there an exterior door that can open into the cave proper? I’d like to explore. I’m not much for confined spaces.”

Eric frowned. The idea he might have to release individual Ba’Neesh hadn’t occurred to him in his hastily constructed plan. He rose to a sea of curious, watchful eyes. He owed Norris. This Simon was Norris trapped inside a wiped mind. He was uncertain how that fit together except he kept feeling like he owed this Soek. Was he the same person with a different name? It was a critical question Eric needed to answer for himself.

There was an exit door that could open, very close to one of the cave walls. He managed to get it open saying, “No way to deploy the ramp. You will need to climb down on your own.”

Simon was already in the doorway. He flashed a smile and dropped down in one big jump. The other mules were standing, looking around with growing uncertainty.

“What are we doing here?” One asked.

“Testing some new equipment for Security Division.” Eric lied. “Go ahead and explore the cave if you wish, don’t leave the cave. I will maintain supervision of the Ba’Neesh.”

All four of the Soek nodded and headed over to follow the gardener out. It was only mid afternoon. An escape of under an hour. Eric wanted to throw up. None of this would work, what had he done?

“Will there be more blood?” One of the Ba’Neesh asked in German, her accent thick and slow.

Eric noted that none of the Ba’Neesh were trying to escape. The circumstances appeared to be entertaining them, rather than frightening or alarming them. More blood? “Likely. Likely things won’t go well.” He admitted.

“I like blood, tasty.” The same Ba’Neesh answered.

“Me too.” Several near the first one murmured agreement.

Eric realized now was a prime opportunity to ask the Ba’Neesh if they knew how to kill a molcom. He had them alone. He neared the more talkative of them. She watched him closely.

“Do you know how to kill the molcom in my brain?” He spaced out each word. It hadn’t occurred to him they may never have heard of either the molcom or even the word brain.

“I like to kill, I think.” The Ba’Neesh answered.

He groaned. “Molcom?” He asked again.

“I don’t remember a molcom.” She picked out the word for emphasis. Is it here for me to kill it?”

A thump brought his attention around to see Simon had returned.

“What does she want to kill?” Simon asked walking over and among the Ba’Neesh as if unafraid.

“I want to kill the molcom.” Eric said. “They can find it, wipe us all.”

“Ahh.” Simon nodded, pulling off his gardening cap to ruffle his still curly red hair. “That is what this is about?” He asked.

“Yes.” Eric answered. Somehow he had thought a mule meant lower intelligence. He hadn’t conflated the term with himself or Norris. It was an error. Clearly Simon wasn’t stupid. He might not have before wipe fragments, but the man had managed to make himself valuable. Not a mean feat for a mule. “I hoped they would know, the Ba’Neesh. There is a Soek named Mael Strom, he killed his at six years old. That means they should also know how.” Eric watched Simon carefully when he said this to see if his old friend had any echo inside of him from Mael’s name.

“A maelstrom is like a tornado in a lake or large body of water.” Simon said. “You say this is a person’s name? What is a Soek?”

Eric absorbed the storm lesson, he hadn’t known there was a water storm called a maelstrom. It clearly fit Mael too. “A Soek?”

“Yes, you said a Soek.” Simon repeated.

“I did.” Eric nodded. “A Soek is a non-human humanoid that emerged parallel to Homo Sapien Sapien, it is technically a Homo Soekenesis. You and I and those with us, all of us here, are Soek.

“I am Ba’Neesh.” The talkative one spoke up. Clearly she was avidly listening, as were the other Ba’Neesh.

“Yes.” Eric said, “You are Ba’Neesh, the female Soekenesis. I am just a stupid Soek, the male Soekenesis.”

Simon laughed at this and then roared. His amusement caused the Ba’Neesh to laugh too. For Eric this was a first, he had never witnessed a Tule Soc Ba’Neesh laughing. In his memory of the graveyard, he remembered one of those two Ba’Neesh laughing, she had laughed at him. She had done something to him. He rubbed his face.

“Well stupid Soek Eric Felsen, did these Ba’Neesh have the answer you need?” Simon asked, gesturing at the confined group, clearly finding the situation of continuing amusement.

“I don’t think so.” Eric sagged a bit. Saying it out loud made it real. “Their memories are – limited. I had hoped, but I don’t think they know what a molcom is much less that each of us has one like a ticking bomb in our skulls.

“So, ask this Mael Strom person.” Simon said pragmatically, “I take it he is a Homo Soekenesis too?”

Eric flinched. “He’s Order.” Eric answered. “They are our enemy. Tule Soc’s enemy, I mean.” His body and brain were in direct conflict over this practical suggestion. So simple. Ask Mael Strom for help. Impossible. Tule Soc was getting ready to bomb the Soek, the Order, all of Citadel.

“Order. I know that word.” Simon rubbed at the bristle that was a short beard. “How do I know that word?” He asked Eric, his gaze speculative.

“Order.” Eric was still focused on the suggestion. Ask Mael. He looked at the craft full of Ba’Neesh. Order would love to have them. Could he manage a trade? “Order is the Order of Guardians of the Grove, bound to protect and take care of the Ba’Neesh in their care.” Eric recited the words by rote, only afterwards realizing it was a memory fragment that offered the memorized snippet.

“These Ba’Neesh aren’t well protected or cared for.” Simon reached over to pass his hand gently down the upper arm of the talkative Ba’Neesh, who was listening and watching him closely. She didn’t react beyond glancing at other Ba’Neesh, curiosity in the look.

“No.” Eric admitted. There was pain in that admission. “There isn’t time. Tule Soc is attacking the Citadel today.”

“Citadel?” Simon stiffened slightly. “Tule Soc is attacking those who protect these Ba’Neesh?” He clarified aloud.

“Yes.” Eric paced between the rows. “There was an incident where a city lost its power.”

“The newsworthy terrorism of the Directorate?” Simon asked.

“Yes.” Eric nodded. “The Directorate and the Order are twins, part of one group. Tule Soc is attacking the Order as the Directorate Headquarters are too well protected.”

“Cowards.” Simon said. “What is at this Citadel?”

This disturbed the Ba’Neesh who repeated the word like an echo.

“Citadel?” Eric frowned. “It’s mostly a school for Soek boys. And, it houses what we believe is over a thousand Beloved and half that many Ba’Neesh, with Elders.”

“Double cowards.” Simon rested his hand on the Ba’Neesh’s furred shoulder. “Tule Soc is attacking children?”

“Elders!” The Ba’Neesh repeated, excitement in her tone.

“When Tule Soc realizes we are gone, that you took these Ba’Neesh, they will hunt us down. Right?” Simon continued.

“Yes.”

“What to lose, Eric Felsen, Head of Tule Soc Security? If this Mael Strom person lives, ask him. Perhaps he values these Ba’Neesh and those children enough to help you.” Simon said.

“Help us.” Eric modified.

“I noticed I was the only gardener you ordered to your lair. Why? Who am I to you Eric Felsen?” Simon asked.

Eric shook his head. “No time. I can place an encrypted call to Montana, Directorate Headquarters. They could possibly route me through, in the middle of a battle. Dark Gods I really am a fool.” He was already ignoring Simon, caught in the thrall of the suggestion. Ba’Neesh and children. Why had he never truly processed these things until that graveyard? He used the overrides on his external and then walked over to the side of the craft that was under the cave opening. Signal strength increased. He noted that Simon continued to lightly touch the Ba’Neesh. They were allowing him to do so. It was extraordinary. Simon/Norris who had not been in that graveyard to be wakened, could touch a Ba’Neesh gently. His stomach soured further.

“Jordy?” Brad nudged Jordy, still sitting beside him. “We’ve got a call.”

“What?” Jordy answered, deep into the expected deployment of the hidden arsenal protecting the Citadel. They had always known that some day Tule Soc would try again.

Brad yelled over toward the Sigil Room. “Hey Mael, Eric Felsen is raising hell with Tech Ops in Montana demanding to speak to you and only to you.” Brad turned the conversation on to broadcast.

Thorne yelled out. “I’m head of the Directorate. He must mean me.”

“He won’t talk to you.” Brad answered. Everyone could hear Tech Ops making that argument in the background with Eric Felsen being adamant.

Mael, who had been in his favorite position laying on the floor staring at the ceiling sigil, pushed himself to a seated position. “Isn’t Eric Felsen head of Tule Soc Security?”

“That’s him.” Brad nodded. His gut was telling him the situation was about to change. He loved it. He adjusted his medications to allow for sudden action.

“He has to speak with me and currently the Directorate is not saying anything about the terrorism accusations.” Thorne said, unhappy that Mael was now standing to walk past him toward Brad.

“Why does he want to speak with me?” Mael asked, as if Thorne hadn’t spoken at all.

Brad pulled up the most recent footage of Eric Felsen frozen in the graveyard. It was a good facial view. Mael leaned in and stared at the holo. “I don’t think I know this…” He stopped talking. The footage continued to play, showing Perisee sashay up to the frozen Eric to get nearly nose-to-nose with him before laughing.

“Perisee! Lemista!” Mael yelled out, bringing everyone to attention. Brad politely broadcast their names throughout Citadel where the two were playing a poke me game topside.

“What?” Thorne demanded, hurrying over to join the crowd at Brad’s desk. “What do you see, Mael?

Brad had frozen the image on Eric’s face.

“Where are those brats?” Mael thundered again. “Perisee! Lemista!”

“We need to be focused on that incoming mob of aircraft.” Thorne said, pointing at the holo Jordy was following.

Thundering hooves arrived at Brad’s door. He noted what seemed like every adult Ba’Neesh was crowding the hall just outside the door. He overrode the speakers in the hall to say, “Mael requires Perisee and Lemista to enter. The rest of you can please wait. The rooms are full. I will project holos along the wall so everyone can see.”

The Ba’Neesh stomped and yelled in frustration at being denied access, but only Perisee and Lemista came forward. There were three Ba’Neesh already in the Sigil Room, Old One Horn, Moira and Anya. Brad left the outer door open as the slightly less eager Perisee and Lemista faced Mael.

The expressions on the two entering Ba’Neesh faces were telling. Mael gave them each a hard look and then he focused on Perisee. “Why didn’t you tell me? What did you do to him?” He yelled. “Do you realize we are a bit busy for this, right now?” He continued.

“For what?” Thorne demanded, echoing the frustrations of everyone else playing catch up.

“I only gave him a little push.” Perisee said after glancing at the holo.

“But, he’s mine. I tasted him first.” Lemista whined. “How did you push and not share with me? Sneaky. What did she do, Mael?” Lemista asked.

Mael had turned back to the screen, staring at the image. He straightened. “Patch him through Brad.”

Thorne stomped his own foot and wanted to shake Mael hard. The Turtle was now stepping firmly on his turf. Xasper tapped Thorne on the shoulder and shook his head. “Not in front of the Ba’Neesh.” He whispered to Thorne. Everyone knew they loved mayhem, particularly up close and personal and with blood if possible.

“Right.” Thorne steamed, forcing himself to be still.

“Eric Felsen?” Mael, like everyone watching on the holos was looking past the man’s face to what had to be the interior of an aircraft with Ba’Neesh strapped in. That registered with a hard jolt, Eric with Ba’Neesh strapped in somewhere.

“Mael Strom?” Eric managed to look fairly calm although when the holo appeared he gaped at the strangest male he had ever seen. Mael’s entire head was covered in a helmet-like shell, his face was altered to a wedge shape, yet he still looked human too.

“I am The Turtle.” Mael continued. “Why are you contacting me?”

“He’s got damned Ba’Neesh on a ship.” Thorne whispered to Xasper.

“I have eyes.” Xasper whispered back.

“I want to make a trade.” Eric stated flatly.

“What do you have that I could possibly want?” Mael asked.

Anya was now standing at his side, her horns burning bright. Everyone near her could feel her rising tension in the sharp snorting sounds puffing out of her nostrils.

Eric swallowed hard, visibly.

“He’s way nervous.” Brad said. “How strange.”

“No way he would ever violate protocols like this.” Jordy stated, both were speaking low. “Is this a trap?”

“Well?” Mael’s tone hardened. “Are you in that mess of aircraft heading toward us now?”

“No.” Eric shook his head. “I resigned as head of Tule Soc Security and then sort of defected.”

It was an extraordinary word, old and seldom used. Brad played a definition out loud to much nodding and consternation from the now avidly watching observers.

“I am not the person to defect to. That would be Damien Thorne. He is here with me. Do you wish to speak with him?” Mael asked.

“No. A hundred times no.” Eric shook his head. “I want to trade these Ba’Neesh for the solution to killing the molcom.”

Brad instantly shut down the audio reply as the hallway and outer room burst out in shocked responses. He narrowed the pickup focus to just Mael and Anya who hadn’t moved an inch. Only Anya’s snorting had intensified abruptly.

“Trading your damaged Ba’Neesh is not enough.” Mael’s words shocked a second wave of screaming reaction carefully hidden from Eric by Brad.

“What do you mean?” Anya hissed at Mael, her horns vibrating inches from his face. He gave her a single telling glance and then looked back at the pickup.

The room and hall silenced.

“I will need more. You understand the level of importance of molcoms.” Mael continued.

“I don’t have more.” Eric’s expression had tightened with some readable hopelessness now clearly visible.

“Of course you do.” Mael said. “I want total access to all Tule Soc facilities. I want everything you have in your head and files and then we will talk about the Ba’Neesh.”

Brad hid the gasping wave of reactions to this extraordinary demand. He was grinning widely after the shocking jolt of Mael’s earlier words. Trust the Turtle!

Mael leaned in close to Brad. “Trace his location and redirect Serla there now.” He said, returning to his position.

“Agreed?”

“They will wipe me before I’m half finished.” Eric replied, his shoulders drooping. Hope fading.

Another Soek wearing gardening clothing entered the view. “You will protect him from being wiped?” This new Soek asked.

“Freeze frame, Brad.” Mael said, leaning in to stare at the holo of bright red curly hair. He inhaled sharply.

“Unknown Soek. I see Ba’Neesh nearby.” Mael said.

“He’s – Simon.” Eric said, hesitating slightly over the name.

“Eric, are you agreed?” Mael pressed. “You will have to dump all critical data fast before the alarms get to you. Can you preset your external to continue and to block attempts to interrupt the data dump?” Mael asked.

“Yes.” Eric visibly worked on his external. “I’m ready.”

“Okay. Before you do this, you are certain you no longer align with Tule Soc?” Mael asked. “We will know.”

“I’m certain.” Eric said, fatality evident in his tone. “You have to promise me to save Simon and the four mules and the twenty-eight Ba’Neesh before Tule Soc finds them.” Eric answered.

First priority, save Simon. Mael hid his smile.

“Approach the Ba’Neesh I see behind you. A leader?” Mael ordered.

He leaned over to whisper to Anya whose facial expression altered, her tension visibly shifting at his words. She nodded.

Eric and Simon returned to the talkative Ba’Neesh. He held out his external toward her. “Listen to this.” He said.

Anya spoke in clear, sharp Neesh. The Ba’Neesh strapped into the seats listened and then screamed and yeowled. Then as fast as the ruckus had begun, they became silent, and then the talkative one looked at Eric. She spoke a fluency of words, brief but layered in Vrill. He understood exactly none of those words. Then his header, which he had so carefully controlled with analgesic, exploded with an intensity unlike any before.

He jerked and backed away. “What have you done?” He yelled at Mael through the holo. “My head. They are ripping my brains apart.” He said.

“They are remembering you.” Mael said. “Now, Evgeny, activate the data transfer and lay down so they don’t injure you when the brain wipe hits.”

“Evgeny?” Simon yelled, joined by Ba’Neesh and everyone inside the Math Department.

Mael continued, “Norris, who is now Simon, you must keep everyone safe until Serla gets there. Serla is coming with the Akaitapi, they will deal with the Ba’Neesh. Can you manage the external after…”

“He’s down!” Norris yelled. “I am Norris Fenright aren’t I. Dark Gods, I remember more than bits.”

Elias shook Mick. “Wake up, all hell is breaking loose upstairs.”

“The Tule Soc attack?” Mick asked blurrily.

“No, I think Mael Strom is going to take Fels. Come on, you need to wear real clothing.”

“We need Brad.” Mick said.

“I’ll tell our new captain to take us up.” Elias grinned, he was feeling better today. “Apparently, we are required to transport a few hundred mostly Ba’Neesh and Mael Strom and his crew.”

“What about Citadel?” Mick asked, still grumpy.

“Jordy and Thorne have it covered. We need to get this bucket outside of the charge perimeter before it starts.”

“Did I miss everything while I slept?” Mick asked.

(I must admit I enjoyed writing this chapter quite a lot. I hope you enjoy reading it too. Click my stars folks. More later.)