by Reiter
“You saved my life, Teacher. All I had was what you taught me!”
“You came to me already taught, boy!” Nugar argued. “We just needed to cut away the useless lessons! Speaking of, I have two more for you… just two. And I doubt you will find them to be of the useless sort.”
“They will keep,” Dungias said, squeezing harder around his teacher’s neck and back.
“They will have to, vazi. They will simply have to!” Dungias shut his eyes tightly, hearing the K’Vo word for ‘son’.
The Osamu. It is simply a rod… just as a star is simply a point of light in the Void!
Z’Var Turan
“Hello, Thought,” Dungias said softly, seated in the center of his bed. “It has been some time since we have had a chance to talk.”
“Perhaps,” the mysterious voice replied. “… but we have managed to progress all the same.”
“Have we? Progressed, I mean? I sit here in this room where I received teachings from Nugar and the members of the Starfire Team. I can say that I have been spared the burden of my social status, but that is only because I am not in mainstream society.”
“And you question if you have improved at all.”
“I have no reason to believe that progression is a fact so much as a perspective,” Dungias replied.
“Then that is your answer.”
“I do not understand,” Dungias returned.
“Yes you do! Two points you should consider: Anyone who questions their progress does so and exercises introspection. The inquiry, in and of itself, shows a concern that might have existed, but could not be confirmed until it was expressed… that is progress!”
“And the second point?”
“You have discovered that progress is a matter of perspective,” Thought declared. “You cannot even decide if what you have learned is factual until it is applied! Even you must agree that progress is difficult to see while you are within its effects – it is most easily judged when you look back and try to see what you once were.”
“Very strong points,” Dungias admitted. “And have you progressed?”
“How can I not?” Thought replied. “My growth happens at all times and in all directions. You will eventually come to see the same in yourself.”
“When I have a moment to look back, perhaps I will,” Dungias said as he opened his eyes. His body jumped as he saw a large Grenbi lunge toward him. He fell off the side of the bed, just avoiding the massive crystalline teeth. He was not set to move in any direction, but his body moved up and away from the floor as the Grenbi jumped again. The second attempt was not as close as the first, and Dungias found himself turning to face his attacker.
“What is this?!” he thought, looking around to see other Grenbi fighting and feasting on one another. It confused Dungias to only see one size, the very large Grenbi. They were locked into their form and showing their fangs and claws. On all sides of him there was a frenzy of conflict and violent thrashing of flesh and form. His attention was soon fixed on the one that had attacked him. After two jumps, it did not appear like the Grenbi was going to rush a third attempt. It looked like it was ready to jump and Dungias was powerless as he watched his body take a fighting stance.
Leaping at the same time, the two bodies met in the air and Dungias’ eyes opened just before he landed hard on the floor. He was stunned by the impact with the unpadded surface, but he quickly recovered and stood up. If it had been a dream, Dungias had managed to act it out in his living area. His bed, his dining room area, and his exercise section all showed signs of a struggle. The place looked as if a Force Grenade had been used. Dungias looked at his timepiece and realized he had time to return things to their more orderly state. After a full s’tonki of arranging and cleaning, his living space was once again in its original format. He logged the event on his computer and then initiated a program for his system to collect information which might explain to Dungias what had just happened.
The young Malgovi looked about his dimly lit area. There was no denying his level of physical skill had grown; when he looked at his work bench and drafting table, he could acknowledge substantial growth there as well. “For the moment, there are lessons to tend to and decisions to make. That is the priority.” After a few deep breaths, Dungias cleared his mind of the event and focused once again on his own status and how he had come to be in this position.
What troubled Dungias was whether the rate of growth, which he now tried to measure and fully understand, was in any way congruent with the amount of time it had taken for him to approach the level of skill and knowledge he demonstrated. His longest lesson had come from The Campus, and he had no idea how to measure what he had gained from that experience. His burning questions, however, needed to find a cool place in his mind and await their proper turn. The amber light on his control panel was blinking… his teacher was summoning him, and Dungias was determined not to keep that Traveler waiting.
“You have to remember, we are not in what some would consider a readily accessible location,” Nugar stated as he leaned against the wall, looking anything but comfortable as his student accessed the personal database Nugar had created the star-term they arrived at the domicile. “There very well could be–”
“Can you access the communications network from here?” Dungias quickly asked. Nugar stammered a bit before nodding to the affirmative. “Then this is all correspondence I am meant to have.
“I have already responded to Saru and Laejem,” Dungias continued, standing up from the table. “… both of whom are demanding I visit immediately if not sooner, and my transmission to the Starfire Team has already been noted as being received. I am sure they will respond when they are able, given the two score transmissions they sent during my time at The Campus.”
“The Campus,” Nugar repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. Dungias could have been away ten times as long and the price paid would have been worthy of the truth he had shared with the Traveler at his return. “I remember my Kwinsoah telling me stories about it. I scarcely believed her, but the stories were so… well, I don’t have to tell you about them; you were there!”
“What is that word?”
“What word?
“Did you say kwin-so-ah?”
“Yes I did,” Nugar replied, rubbing his chin and remembering the Traveler who brought him to the Stars. “It is a very old word in a very old language that is obviously not in any of your educational files. It is a term of endearment a student uses when referring to one’s teacher.”
“Just how old are you?!” Dungias asked, becoming more and more curious what the answer to the question might be.
“Hmmm, that’s another concept that has been lost,” Nugar chuckled. “The Stars have kept me here for much longer than the natural stride of life. Forgive me if I do not give you a number, but I can tell you this much, I was old for the third time when BaKedia was born.”
“The Queen?!” Dungias asked, turning in his chair. He looked up at his teacher as the Vinthur simply smiled and nodded. “She is over four hundred orbi-terms old!”
“Shameful, isn’t it?” Nugar asked. “To have lived so long because of the Stars and still find a means to doubt them.” Dungias looked down, trying to find the best words to offer, but the impact of time difference still weighed upon him. He came to the quick conclusion that it was better to simply move things along.
“Would you permit me to call you Kwinsoah?” he asked.
“If there is one thing I have learned in my time, Dungi,” Nugar said as he came away from the wall. “… one can never claim to be a good parent or a good teacher themselves. The matter of merit is left to the student and the child respectively. All one can do is claim to be in the effort of rearing and teaching… and then work and pray so that the claim finds a truthful ground in which it can be anchored. You may call me whatever you wish.”
“You seem more anxious than I am for this next lesson, Kwinsoah,” Dungias said with a smile.
“Th
e time has come for you to put that particular matter behind you, Dungi,” Nugar suggested.
“You mean where I nearly managed the feat of killing myself?” Dungias asked, quickly setting his mind to dealing with the tide of emotions his near-death experience generated. “It is not that I failed the scope of the lesson, Teacher, I nearly ripped myself apart.” Dungias looked down at his chest. Thanks to the regenerators there was to be no scar, but he remembered what it was like to be upside down, wedged into the corner of a storage room, partially merged with a storage bin. He had never felt such pain; he did not know such thresholds were possible.
“I still cannot say how that happened,” Nugar replied.
“And what sort of Traveler am I to be if I cannot Jump-Stride?” Dungias pressed, finding it difficult to maintain his hope. After so many successes, this was a tragic failure.
The Jump-Stride was the very means by which the Travelers were given their name. More powerful and sophisticated than simple teleportation, it was the means by which Travelers could propel a prepared craft to the Speed of Thought. In all the time Nugar had been of the ranks, he had never known a Traveler who could not Jump. Dungias’ first attempt had indeed nearly killed him. He had missed his landing by close to fifteen hundred trams and was a mere fifty trams from materializing inside solid rock.
Using point-to-point teleportation, Nugar had been able to take both his student and the crate he had merged with to the infirmary. There, he had had to place both Dungias and the crate in a stasis field before removing the crate from Dungias’ chest; a feat that had taken three star-terms in order for him to account for every single micrometer of flesh, bone, and vital organ. Even after spending two additional star-terms in the regenerator, it was three more before Dungias had been able to move about on his own, a full five more before their training could resume. The subject of the Jump-Stride had not been brought up without it falling into argumentation between the two, and Nugar thought it best to set it aside as a topic they would circle back to in time. They had to press on!
“Perhaps that is a question best answered when your training is complete,” Nugar suggested. “And please, let us not begin yet another debate that will eventually lead to us not speaking to one another and your progress stifled.”
“As you wish,” Dungias replied. “But if I may be so bold… you have found that it was entirely my error, yes?”
“Your ability to see the destination is troubled,” Nugar stated. “While I have seen better telepaths, the ability to envision within the Jump-Stride has been successfully demonstrated even where telepathy was not allowed. If I were to approach the resolve for this matter, I would say that perhaps we have found one place where your intellect serves more as an obstacle and not a key.”
“In short, I am over-thinking it?” Dungias guessed.
“That would be one way to describe the matter,” Nugar replied, but he was quick to speak again. “However, in the next exercise, I believe that perspective will greatly boost your chances for success and, at the same time, perhaps map you a way to hone that high-powered intellect of yours. After all, I have never instructed someone with your level of intelligence. It could be your instructor who has failed you.”
“As you have already asked, let us not descend into argumentation,” Dungias said, dismissing even the slightest possibility of Nugar’s statement holding merit. “As it is becoming more and more clear to me, you are excited and eager. This last lesson must be of incredible meaning to you.”
“Boy, you have no idea! Come with me.” Nugar stepped out of his chambers and walked down the corridor with a very eager and anxious student on his heels. “We should get a few things established before we begin this lesson. Do you know what a Traveler is?”
“I have come to an understanding,” Dungias answered.
“And he has come to the safe answer quickly enough,” Nugar considered. “It seems I have been spared the normal youthful arrogance that normally manifests the moment the student learns how to move. But how could this one ever be arrogant? Assumption he has down to the bones… but he has yet to do so through arrogance! And perhaps the failure at the Jump-Stride has secured his humility.
“What is that understanding?”
“A Traveler is one who treks across the known systems exploring the often-overlooked sectors,” Dungias said. “They even explore unknown systems from time to time. They are believers in and followers of the Stars and their Light.”
“That is very good,” Nugar remarked. “If everything falls through, you might find a healthy and sustaining future in the composition of text books.” Dungias chuckled at his teacher’s sense of humor. “Now can you tell me what your understanding is?”
Dungias walked along with his teacher, but he was very much alone in the corridor, delving into his thoughts about the very important subject while still wrestling with his doubts and fears. The views and commentary of all five of his teachers rolled through his mind; the four who had brought him to the domicile and the fifth, which was better known as experience. They were being processed, along with the actions and reactions of those same instructors, as well as his own family.
“Don’t tell him what you fear,” Dungias thought. “Tell him what you feel beyond the fear. You can still see beyond it even if that field has grown… so has your ability to see!
“They are the bond,” he started. “The only bridge we have left to the Stars. They do not find us our way through the Void, they help mark the way for us to find the Stars.
“The Founders saved our lives, but the Stars have shown us the way since then. Perhaps even before then, but we were not listening to the right voices or looking in the right places. For a time we did both. For a time.”
“But?” Nugar pressed. It was imperative to bring Dungias along as far as he could. The Master Traveler did not want to fail the Stars, and he was even more desperate not to fail this student.
“But I feel we kept looking,” Dungias postulated. “… like we were adjusting our network link, looking for a better signal.”
“And?”
“And I do not know, Teacher,” Dungias admitted and Nugar was happy to hear the confidence in the response. There was no self-assigned shame in his voice. He did not know, and being able to admit that opened him that much more to the possibility of learning. “Given what I have learned of the Founders, I would say there has been at least a handful who decided to think for both the Vinthur and the Malgovi people. I cannot say I agree with their resolve.”
“And what do you suppose the role of the Traveler is in this regard?”
“Unchanged,” the young Malgovi replied. “The bridge to the Stars must be maintained.”
“Then, by your reckoning, the Traveler is in conflict with the throne,” Nugar pointed out. “Not a very healthy outlook, Dungi.”
“I would not worry about it if I were you, Kwinsoah,” Dungias smiled. “The way things look, you’ll be outliving us all!”
Nugar laughed out loud and nodded. He had the last of what he needed to initiate this most important lesson; Dungias may have indeed been thwarted by the Jump-Stride, but he was not nearly as pressed by the magnitude of his situation. Upon such a calm and collected perspective, much could be built. He drew his Osamu and tapped five places in sequence. In a flash of yellow and white light, he and Dungias were teleported to a workroom, a very special workroom. Dungias was more concerned with where he had arrived than he was thoughtful of the process undertaken to achieve the location.
“Like a true Traveler,” Nugar thought as he stepped off the teleportation pad.
“You’ve seen my workroom, yes?”
“On several occasions, and I thought I had seen all three of them,” Dungias said as he looked around. The lights of the room were just coming up, and the first thing to grab Dungias’ eye was the wall covered with tools. It was not as impressive as what he had seen at The Campus, but there was no need to share that with Nugar.
“All three?!�
� Nugar said, surprised that Dungias had found all three workrooms that could be accessed physically.
“You are an exceptionally hard sleeper, Kwinsoah,” Dungias explained. “Do you recall the event in the alley at Gavis Station?”
“Of course I do!”
“And do you recall that all members of the Mal-Vin have sensory networks in their uniforms?” Nugar closed his eyes to the realization.
“You mapped my cloaking field and replicated it,” Nugar sighed.
“I improved it,” Dungias advised. “The matrix I was able to engineer allows for greater range and intensity at a fraction of the power costs.”
“I trust you will be sharing that find before too long,” Nugar said as he reached the workbench he had set up for Dungias.
“I took the liberty of placing it on your main computer under New Finds.” Dungias stepped up to the table and closed his eyes. Nugar could tell his student was trying to get a feel for the room. If nothing else, his level of awareness and perception had increased during his time at The Campus. He might have lost two orbi-terms of time in his home dimension, but the Traveler had yet to get a good measure of how much his student had actually grown.
“Then it would seem we both have some work ahead of us,” Nugar said as he pulled out the chair for the workbench. “But yours will start here, Dungi. Do you recall our brief conversation about the Osur?”
“Yes, I do,” Dungias replied. “It was just before my first Light-assisted combat lessons. You told me that not all Travelers carry Osamu, but all Osur do.”
“Very good recollection,” Nugar weighed. “Always try to keep your memory as sharp.” Nugar took a moment and a last breath. It was time continue down this trek! “The simplest explanation: an Osur is a Star-Priest! They can come from any walk of life, though you will hear it is Warriors, Travelers and Invokers that make up most of those who apply for the position. The Stars are not nearly so discriminating.
“Now let me stop you before that head of yours sends power to the drive units,” Nugar said, taking hold of Dungias’ face. “You do yourself a strong credit in your dislike of pointless and groundless ignorance. But you are just as pointless and groundless in thinking that it can ever be abolished. If nothing else, we need the foolish so that we have a marker on our map and know which way not to turn.”
