by Drew Briney
“Will you allow me to read your mind?”
The question landed like a brick. Dr. Boyd had zero understanding as to why she would make such a request and he was reticent to do so in the first place.
“Why?” he nearly demanded. “You have no military background. You have no ship or weaponry to attack with. You have no knowledge of how to defend my people. Your magic is wonderful my friend but …” he trailed off for a moment. “I don’t see how any of your tricks can help my people.
“Very well,” she answered, bowing her head and looking as if she had been defeated. She heard nothing but rhetorical tones in his voice so she felt no obligation to respond. While her head was bowed, she quickly reviewed various principles of integrity and free will she had been taught as a child. She reviewed principles of punishment for attempting to kill someone, principles of protecting others from harm, principles regarding the punishment of those who blatantly lie.
As she balanced these thoughts in silence for several moments, Dr. Boyd incorrectly felt he had gained some degree of control of the situation and began asking more questions. “Blaze – have you seen the team of men I was with yesterday? They are all under strict orders to find you and Evelia. We need to launch soon but I wasn’t about to leave without you…”
“ENOUGH !” the magic woman shouted with both of her voices delivering such dissonance and ferocity that everyone in the camp immediately fell silent – excepting the infant child who now began to cry.
“Oh … I see,” Dr. Boyd responded as he observed the unchecked anger of the lithe little alien. “Greydon warned me of this possibility,” he began, looking towards the magic woman with eyes full of sadness and disappointment, searching for clues that might verify his suspicions. “They told you about that memo didn’t they? You must understand, they could not comprehend the context of what I was saying – what they explained to you was surely incorrect.”
“I said ENOUGH!” the magic woman echoed without the slightest attempt to consider what the doctor had been about to explain. She sleeked towards him, arms reaching towards him with hands in angled, cupping shapes. With the twitch of her fingers, Dr. Boyd suddenly fell to his knees. His jaw dropped so that Blaze and Evelia could observe that his tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. His eyes rolled backwards and his arms bent, nearly clutching his chest. Then the doctor fell onto all fours, his head bowing as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up any longer.
Still slithering towards her victim, the magic woman twitched her hands again. The doctor’s head lifted up into the blade of her hands and then rested. Slightly lifting his head, the magic woman purred words that no one present understood, words that seemed to lessen the tension in the air, words that soothed the baby and stopped her crying, words that seemed to stop time itself.
This time however, her words were accompanied by a surreal glow around the doctor’s face that Evelia had not seen when the little alien had read Blaze’s memories. Something was different this time but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Somehow, this time seemed more somber and surreal. It almost seemed angry – despite the lack of tension in the air. It was precisely because of those conflicting perceptions that Evelia felt unsure about what was happening this time, unsure how she felt about the magic woman reading the doctor’s memories, and unsure what might happen next. Relaxed environment notwithstanding, Evelia was growing in fear. She was scared.
The magic woman held her pose for several moments, her face changing expressions occasionally as it had when she read Blaze’s memories. When she finished, the magic woman unceremoniously dropped Dr. Boyd’s head, allowing it to fall helplessly to the ground – along with the rest of his body. Briefly, Evelia believed the doctor dead but soon, she could see that he was still breathing.
The alien sat down on her crossed legs, rocking with her head in her hands. “He killed them all!” she moaned, as if it had been her own family. The magic woman’s voice was clearly distraught and both sets of vocal chords took turns breaking as her emotions were overcome. “Dr. Boyd personally placed every bomb in every Order and then,” she paused, sobbing, “and then, when survivors were gathered together, he ordered them executed as well,” she finished, overcome with grief. While Blaze could not understand why the magic woman reacted so emotionally to the situation, Evelia somehow intuitively understood that the alien felt the feelings and emotions of the people that she bonded with in this way – their feelings became a part of her. And now, Blaze’s feelings for his family and friends were surfacing in her to react to what she had learned from Dr. Boyd.
Blaze however, responded very differently. Instantly connecting the dots, Blaze no longer looked upon Dr. Boyd as the man who had passively allowed all of his family and friends to die – he looked on this man as the traitor who killed them all. He leaped towards the doctor and fiercely struck him with the blunt end of his bo staff, breaking a number of ribs. He reversed the direction of the staff to strike near the doctor’s spine – but not before the magic woman could react.
“No!” she quietly ordered – but with enough force and conviction that Blaze quickly obeyed. “We still need him,” she seemed to apologize. “I know this is difficult Blaze. I feel what you feel. And there is more. Your cousin – the one you that was taken to the infirmary to die before you could say goodbye – her name was Kara – remember?”
His shocked silence was enough – he remembered.
“She was taken to another Order. Dr. Boyd reported to your family that she died – and that her sickness had left her so disfigured that they buried her immediately – without a viewing.” The magic woman paused, carefully watching Blaze’s face as she calculated whether or not he could handle this information. “Her sickness was induced with a mild virus. Dr. Boyd felt she was so extremely bright that he wanted to use her elsewhere. He created her very curable illness, gave her a cover story of lies she believed, placed her in a new Order among the only unit that was aware of the other Orders, and placed her on a team researching genetic enhancements.” The alien’s voices were becoming disjointed again so she paused to gather her composure. “She was one of the survivors. She wasn’t where she was expected to be – wrong place, wrong time. The doctor personally euthanized her, believing he was doing her a service by quickly ending her pain that he could not stop. His concern was genuine but …”
At this point, both the magic woman and Blaze were both overcome with disbelief and strong emotions. Evelia, who was especially empathetic in nature, freely cried as she quietly observed.
“Blaze, he blew everyone up because he wanted to save them from the inevitable attack of the natives. He felt like he was doing them a favor – saving them from more pain and suffering later. He’s a utilitarian extremist.”
While Blaze silently fought to control his emotions so that he wouldn’t act in the heat of passion to further torture the body of this so-called misguided scientist, the magic woman continued to weep.
And she wept for nigh unto two hours.
While Evelia cradled Elayuh in one arm, she wrapped the other around the back and shoulder of the petite alien woman who sobbed uncontrollably. And while she comforted the magic woman, she felt those feelings she had felt the night before – those waves of odd energy that pulsed throughout her mind – those sensations she couldn’t articulate or explain.
After several minutes, Blaze walked away from camp to scour the area for survivors of the massacre the night before, randomly striking trees with his staff along the way, sometimes kicking branches as he trudged along his predetermined path, and occasionally yelling words he might have regretted anyone else hearing. His psyche was not prepared for any of this. Beyond being on edge, Blaze was verging upon a mental breakdown.
Meanwhile, the magic woman was not crying over Blaze’s losses. Neither was she sobbing over the loss of so many humans that she had grown to appreciate through the memories of others. Her moans were the suffering of a woman who had made a tragic mistake, a mistak
e she would never openly share with anyone. Dr. Boyd had told the truth about one thing: the team of soldiers had no intention of killing Blaze or Evelia or the magic woman – they were heavily armed as a precaution – just in case they came across any natives or just in case Blaze attacked them.
But she had killed them all.
THE BEAST TENTATIVELY PAWED THE GROUND somewhat like a bull taunted by a puny matador that wasn’t really worth the effort. Soon, the taps became tears in the earth as massive paws extended their claws and tilled the sandy soil in frustration. Not designed to dig, the beast’s paws soon protested against the exertion and the frustrated feline required another method to vent his dissatisfaction.
Leaping into the air, it swatted several branches, cracking, breaking, or bending each of them into unnatural, contorted shapes. Sporadically, it would grab a branch with its vice-like jaws and tear it loose from its parent tree before tossing it to the ground. It jumped from tree to tree, smashing everything it could reach and break until its muscles grew weary and until its mind felt worn. Unintelligent beasts were tamable. They were subservient. They were docile. They could handle this. But he couldn’t take much more of this slavery.
Naturally of even temperament, the creature was unaccustomed to feelings of anger and frustration. But then, he wasn’t used to taking orders either.
Neither was he used to failure.
The magic woman’s orders had been very simple and very clear: make sure the young warrior survived the battle at the village and then, accompany him home. The first part of the instruction seemed like a pathetic joke in retrospect. The boy certainly needed no one to protect him in hand to hand combat and with his high-tech staff, there hadn’t been much need to protect him from any genre of a shooting mêlée either. Accompanying him home shouldn’t have been much of a challenge but for one clumsy movement and that blazing staff.
Crash! Another branch snapped between the slashing jaws of the griffon and fell helplessly to the ground as the beast growled in anger another time.
This is useless, he castigated itself. Recent tantrums against the powers of the magic woman were becoming commonplace – although the beast had never so much as felt frustration before it met her that cursed drizzling morning … Before that fateful day, its life had been relatively uneventful – bliss itself. Since then, he had been at her beck and call, performing all sorts of meaningless tasks purely designed for her own self gratification. It hunted for her, it flew reconnaissance missions for her, it taught her about the wetlands, the jungles, and the ocean shores. Probably most of all, it kept her company.
But most everything he did was under her coercion.
Now, she would undoubtedly be upset over his failure with the young warrior and he would have to listen to her patronizing castigations – like a simple slave, a subservient dog.
Had he been acting under his own volition, he probably could have accomplished the task without any trouble. However, acting under the magic woman’s mind control left the beast too internally conflicted to think clearly – his movements became less uniform, his strength unpredictable, his energy levels random, and his thought process erratic. Perhaps psychological manipulation worked well with beings of lesser intelligence but griffons were highly intelligent. At least, legendary griffons were reported to boast superior intelligence. That was what the magic woman had taught him. And she learned it from that database of human history. But then, maybe none of that applied to him: gene spliced, saber-toothed, modified griffons were arguably an exception – perhaps he was no griffon at all.
By his own estimation, he was as intelligent as any human in this area. He simply couldn’t prove it because he couldn’t speak. And even if he could speak, he couldn’t use his appendages to perform some of the tricky tasks performed by those handy opposing digits – but that didn’t make him any less intelligent.
Notwithstanding his weakness in speech, he could communicate with the magic woman just fine – she could hear and speak to him telepathically – though she often spoke out loud anyway. It had proven refreshing to find someone with whom he could exchange ideas – until that ultimately proved an end to his freedom. Originally, they exchanged thoughts through pictures and feelings. Later, pictures turned into sounds and sounds turned into words. Eventually, words turned into abstract ideas and concepts. Those portions of his visits with the magic woman had been enjoyable. Sometimes, what he had learned from her even seemed worth the expense of doing all of her menial chores.
But that time was past. One can only endure slavery for so long.
In his mind, the griffon heard sounds that it could not hear with its ears, sounds of harmonious voices, sounds of peace, sounds of soothing assurances, sounds of bondage. She calls, he groaned. An outward growl followed; a deafening roar echoed the growl – a roar so load, it could be heard for miles around. There were many beasts in this land – none dared defy his will, none dared challenge his claims, none dared so much as meet his frightful gaze – none except this petite alien who didn’t belong here. With strong thrusts of his wings, the white griffon pounded the air until it gained enough ground to glide much of the distance back to the magic woman’s pond.
THROUGHOUT THE EARLY AFTERNOON, Dr. Boyd remained motionless other than the steady pulse of his breathing. Occasionally, Blaze’s eyes would fasten upon the pathetic figure and grouse over the current situation – sure, the magic woman’s reasoning made sense and she was probably right as well – but Blaze resented her healing the doctor’s broken ribs earlier this morning – even if it did make perfect sense.
Probably, he considered, if I was a faultless person, I would not feel like breaking them a second time, but the pain was too raw and the situation was too thorny to grasp so his bitter feelings continually nagged at him like a ravenous sore that needed treatment but received none. He didn’t know what to think about recent events or what he should do next – all he knew was what he did think didn’t seem to help much.
But the magic woman seemed to know what to think and she had a plan – a foolproof plan. Blaze and Evelia hadn’t even seriously considered what they should do next – the dynamics of the situation kept changing. While Blaze had considered the need to inform the new team about Dr. Boyd’s atrocities and their need for a leader who shared their moral codes, he hadn’t seriously considered who should be the new leader, what should be done with Dr. Boyd, or what would be the duration and ultimate mission of the pending space tour. These were all details that Blaze hadn’t even begun to seriously consider. Sure, he’d briefly considered various options but he hadn’t been able to carefully think things through – let alone come up with some promising plan of action.
Evelia felt similarly directionless. A few days ago, she was a productive member of a community who did what she was asked, enjoyed doing her job, and considered her future in terms of her contributions to the community. She was sensitive to her duties, she worked hard, and she was a selfless individual who regarded her community’s needs before her own. But now, her whole world was upside down. Her community – including her family – was decimated and she was living in the dangerous wetlands of Borneo with an alien, a newborn child, the man who murdered her family, and her crush. Keeping sane was a lot to ask of a young woman in her position; expecting her to have some plan of action as to what to do next was naïve.
Within this context, it was relatively easy for the magic woman to convince Blaze and Evelia to agree to her proposal. It took the petite alien a good hour to explain her ideas and to answer questions but in the end, everyone agreed that her plan was not only the best one by default – it was the best one by merit; it was fail-safe; it was perfect.
EARLIER THAT MORNING (after Blaze had scouted the area for survivors without any success), he spent a good hour gathering those whitish-cream plants that made the baby’s mush so she could have a constant food supply for a good month or two – if he calculated correctly and if the plants could be preserved on board the ship.
“Where I come from, misconduct of any nature is not tolerated. If we discover that someone has cheated someone else or if someone has lied about something important or if someone is found to have committed any crime whatever, we export them.”
“Export them? What do you mean?”
“We banish them to another planet, never to return.”
“So, you just leave them to die?”
“No, we put them on a planet that can fully support their life and the population of people that we send there. However, they have a tendency to destroy themselves in one way or another – just like the people on your planet. When we visit them to leave a new batch of exiles, we invariably observe that there have been wars and contentions, some very destructive and some not. One way or another though, they destroy themselves after a couple dozen generations or so – there are some very interesting studies that have been done on these populations …”
“Is that why you were placed here?”
“Oh no,” she nearly chuckled. “We were actually researching your world because it has a biological system very compatible with ours and were hoping that it would be suitable for sending exiles as we observed that there were very few intelligent beings who might be hostile to another intelligent species – over twenty thousand as I recall.”
“About fifteen thousand actually,” Blaze corrected.
“Oh no,” she rejoined. “There are many more dotting this globe – even accounting for the losses this week. Most of them are on the other side of the planet though … well, sort of. This side looked much more accommodating until we actually began to interact with the people here. We had a brief skirmish where a dozen or more of my people were killed in a surprise attack. I was knocked unconscious and … I was apparently left for dead. My people undoubtedly abandoned considerations for this planet for a more peaceful environment – or perhaps they are just considering another continent … where exiles could be safely exported.”
