by David Winnie
September 3022
Pitth awakened to rain pattering on his window sill. The words of Master Tok echoed in his mind, “The rain is just the rain. It is how you perceive the rain that causes you discomfort.” He stretched and sighed, listening to the rhythmic hiss as the seasonal storm poured its life-giving gift from the gods.
The familiar pat-pat-pat brought a satisfied smile to the boy’s face. A tiny channel lay in the stones that formed his window sill. Every rainfall, the water would find the channel, wind its way along the mini cataract, pool, and then drop to the lower sill with a cadenced beat. Pat-pat-pat. He had studied the channel closely during the dry days, but could never find the diminutive stream bed unless it was raining.
It would slowly work its way down the wall, along the upper sill, a single drop to start followed by countless others, forming a pool at the base of his window. One such storm, he placed a tea cup under the drip. The tone turned from pat-pat-pat, to a musical plink-plink-plink at the same rate. The cup filled quickly, so Pitth drank the rainwater and replaced the cup, enjoying the small song the gods provided.
The second gong sounded. Sighing, Pitth rolled from his warm bed, dressed and hurried to breakfast. Today was oatmeal and fruit. Pitth missed having savory meats in the morning. Most of the residents of Angkor wat were vegetarian. Being a student entitled him to some privilege, but meat every day was not one of them.
Following breakfast, he was allotted an hour for meditation. Adept Ng had walked Pitth here his first day to meet Master Tok. He enjoyed the sheltered grass glade with the small tower of a fountain. He and his masters had spent many hours here meditating together. He had balked once, on a rainy day much as this one. Tok had chided him. “The rain is just the rain,” he had said. Pitth had gotten soaked that day and many others, but had learned how refreshed he felt after a good rain shower.
Another boy sat on the glade this morning. Odd, he was wearing a yellow robe and saffron sash normally reserved for a Master. Pitth quietly found a spot and sat, opened his arms and began his meditations. He focused as proctor Ng had instructed him, not paying attention to the gentle rain, concentrating inward for his center.
“Can you hear it?” The other boy’s question irritated Pitth. He cleared his head and started again. “Pssst, I said can you hear it?” repeated the adept.
“Be quiet,” Pitth hissed. “You are disturbing my reflection.”
“Yes, yes, but listen! Can you hear it?” The other boy was nothing but persistent.
“What?” asked Pitth.
“Shhh, quiet, find your center.” The adept’s voice was soothing and penetrating at the same time. “Now open your mind. Feel the clouds above us. Do you see the water vapor? Each drop, focus on a single drop.”
Pitth was cognizant of the cloud. He found a droplet and focused on it.
“It’s cooling now, drawing other droplets to it. One touches the other, breaks surface tension and they join,” droned the adept.
Pitth watched as other droplets were joined to his. Each would touch, joining the two surfaces, wobbling slightly as the fluid in the tiny drops swirled together. Another drop joined and the process repeated again and again.
The adept guided Pitth’s vision. “It is heavier now, too heavy to float along in the cloud.” “It’s falling, falling, falling. It strikes the leaf on the birch tree there. Surface tension breaks and the water inside bursts forth. The leaf vibrates from the impact. This vibrates the air around it. Do you hear it, young Pitth?”
His raindrop fell and struck the leaf. There it was! The light tah as the raindrop splattered across the leaf, making it vibrate, creating the barely audible schwaaa. It drew his breath away for a moment, then repeated the experiment, again and again. He listened to the orchestra, so different than the song from his room.
On his own, he listened to the droplets fall from the leaves and strike the grass beneath the tree. Each in turn added a softer tah to the symphony.
The hour was over too quickly. There was a rustle of robes and the adept patted Pitth’s shoulder. “It is time to go, young Pitth,” said the adept. The boy stood and regarded the other boy.
“Thank you for such an enlightening lesson, young master,” Pitth bowed low to the adept. “Please, I may I have your name? I should like to meditate with you again.”
“Oh, up, up, up,” admonished the adept. “Look me in the eye, not at my feet. I will be pleased to meditate with you again, master Pitth. As for my name, well, I think you know who I am.”
Pitth straightened and looked deep into the brown eyes. He searched the face. It was so madding familiar! His sloe eyes, the firm chin…It was his own face!
“Master?” he stammered.
“Yes, Pitth, I am who you seek,” his spiritual center responded. “I am one with you now, always and forever.”
Pitth kowtowed as his mother had taught him. He raised to see his center had copied the gesture. “Hurry, now,” his center admonished, “we barely have time to shower and get to our first class.”
Seven years before, Pitth had dreaded entering the classrooms of Angkor wat. While most of the students were human like himself, there was an upsetting number of off-worlders whose parents or governments wanted their children to better know humans.
Grrrscnk was one such being. She was Hecht, from a distant system Spinward. Her species was closely related to Terran dinosaurs, specifically predators. She was ten, two years younger than Pitth, and stood nearly as tall. Her green and blue pebbled skin was covered with fine pinfeathers. As adults, the Hecht were an explosion of color, ranging from black as a singularity to brilliant white as a nova at detonation. She walked erect on reverse knee legs like a bird and her long, three fingered hands were tipped with fierce claws. Pitth marveled at how the scythe-like weapons could be handled so delicately by the girl.
Her elongated face ended in a wide mouth rimmed with a triple row of razor sharp teeth and her snout was tipped with a heavy beak. She explained it would fall away as she entered puberty. Small, bright eyes adorned each side of her head and a crest lay flat along its top. When Grrrscnk was surprised or angry, it flared scarlet and snapped up.
Many of the other students avoided Grrrscnk. She was a meat eater; as such she didn’t live or eat with the other students. As often as not she would return from her meals, carrion still hanging from her jaws, blood smeared across her snout. She was becoming aware of the effect her hygiene had on her fellow students, so recently she haphazardly cleaned herself some of the time before she returned.
Her presence caused quiet fear and paranoia amongst some of her classmates. Several times a year, students would whisper the question, “Is she sizing me up? Am I to be her next meal?”
She and Pitth were best friends. They would sit together in class. In between lessons, they would find a quiet place to study or discuss their lives.
Today’s first period would be biology. Grrrscnk referred to the class as “learning about the galactic menu.” Pitth found he loved the sciences and Angkor wat was perhaps the finest school he could hope to attend. The Buddha had written that the pursuit of knowledge was a sure path to enlightenment. The priests of the wat hired or trained the finest teachers for their students. And charged a steep price for the excellence.
“How was your sleep-wakening this morning?” asked Grrrscnk. She had tried meditation once. Sitting still had proven difficult for her. Relaxing and listening to her Te was impossible. “We have those who sit quietly on Hecht,” she had said. “Mother calls them supper.”
Today’s study was cataloging a mystery sample using an older electron microscope. Pitth took the eyepiece and manipulated the controls as Grrrscnk could barely twist her head about far enough. She recorded as he read and deciphered the strands of data. They worked quickly, the routine comfortable and au fait.
“She’s big,” commented Pitth.
“Are you sure it’s a she?” questioned Grrrscnk.
“Sure. Look at the indicator here.”<
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Grrrscnk twisted her head to the eyepiece and squinted. “I dunno,” she stated, “the third tertiary looks like it could be androgynous.”
They switched places again. “I think you’re right,” admitted Pitth. Grrrscnk snapped her jaw twice, the action that passed for a Hecht giggle.
The rest of the morning passed quickly. Pitth declined Grrrscnk’s invitation to lunch. He had seen what the Hecht did to her lunch. The glade was empty, so he ate his cheese and fruit under the soffit and napped.
“Pitth!” the voice was insistent. “PITTH!” His center was there in the glade. “Wake up! You’ll be late for class!”
“Thank you, Master.” Pitth gathered himself and ran back to his classroom. The afternoon proctor was just arriving as he slid into his seat.
The afternoon period was mathematics. The proctor insisted on a silent classroom, so Pitth pulled the lesson up on his data pad and began his work. Grrrscnk had wiped her snout, but there was a trace of red stain on her thin lips and teeth. She smacked her mouth, her black tongue probing her stained teeth and lips in the first minutes of class. An unpleasant odor emanated from it.
Pitth ignored her and focused on his work. Like the sciences, he found he had a knack for mathematics. The two disciplines worked well with each other. At twelve, Pitth was starting to ponder his future. Befriending Grrrscnk had opened his mind to worlds outside the Earth. Their mutual studies, particular classes like this morning, had him considering a future in science or medicine. Maybe both. Certainly, he would have no future following his father’s lead. Tenzing was a lawyer and a politician. As eldest son, Suishin would one day be head of the Khalkha tribe.
As Khan, Tenzing was the head of the government by the Great Khural. There was talk on the news channels that he would soon lead the Earth Council. Pitth was immensely proud of his father and pleased to be his son. But it would be Suishin who would lead the Khalkha one day. So Pitth needed to study and work hard, bring honor to his family through his hard work and achievement.
The late afternoon gong rang. Pitth startled; he had been thinking of his future rather than focusing on his lessons. The class had risen, gathered their things and were leaving when Grrrscnk appeared at Pitth’s desk. They left the school together, chatting. At an intersection, Grrrscnk raised her head to Pitth’s. He rubbed her cheek with his, the Hecht farewell to a close friend. She made a purring noise and snapped her jaws again. “I will see you tomorrow?” the alien girl asked.
“Of course. Good hunting, friend Grrrscnk,” Pitth told her.
“Good hunting to you, friend Pitth.” She stalked through the portal, her head waving to and fro, stopping as a movement caught her eye. She would momentarily freeze, then continue on her path. Other students crossing her path would freeze, praying she wasn’t hunting.
He dumped his things in his room and hurried back to the Glade. The meeting this morning with his center was profound; he wanted to study the effect more.
The rain had faded to a mist. Pitth was a bit disappointed to see Ng and Master Toc waiting for him. He wasn’t certain his center would appear if there were other beings present. Nevertheless, he kowtowed and entered.
“Your center has revealed to you,” Ng said.
Pitth nodded. “Yes Master, just this morning. And during my lunch meditation.”
“Ah!” Toc said, with a happy tone. “Summon him for us, please?”
“Can I? Wondered the boy. He sat and centered himself, then opened his mind. Momentarily, he felt the presence beside him. “He is here, Master,” reported Pitth.
“Yes, I can see. I greet you, young master,” Toc said. “Here are the nucleus of myself and my student Ng.”
Pitth opened his eyes. Two glowing figures sat next to Toc and Ng.
“These are our nuclei,” explained Ng. “They are there when we need them, whether we acknowledge their presence or not. Master Toc and I will show you how to access your nucleus and make the best use of it.”
“Does this mean I have to become a priest?” wondered the boy.
Both of his masters burst out in laughter. “Pitth, my boy, always with the silliest of questions!” chortled Toc. “Boy, rest assured, your path does not lead to the priesthood. Though Ng and I would not be displeased if you chose to follow us in this fashion. No, your nucleus is the personification of your inner voice, the quiet breeze in your mind that keeps you awake when you are puzzling over a problem. Tell me, did he show you the challenge of the raindrop?”
“Yes Master.”
“And what did you learn?” pressed Ng.
Pitth pondered. Listen and see came the soft voice of his center. Again, he watched the droplets coalesce and fall, break apart on impact and the quiver of the leaf.
“Events occur because of chains of events.” said Pitth. “And these events lead still to other chains and other events.”
“Yes,” breathed Toc, “you do see. Now, attend.”
They were at the fountain’s edge. “Regard the fountain,” instructed Ng. “Alter the fall of a single flow, using just what you see.”
Pitth chose the pour over a pair of stones that fell a foot into a pool. He focused on the spot. He could see the water, feel as it rushed over the edge and landed in the pool below. But he couldn’t affect the flow. “I cannot, Master,” he surrendered.
Toc bent over and picked up a stone. “Here, try this,” handing it to Pitth.
The boy took the stone and placed it at the junction of two stones where the water was pouring through. Immediately, the flow split, two cascades pouring into the pool below.
“Yes better,” commented Ng. “Do you hear?”
Pitth closed his eyes again. The sound was more pleasing. “Yes, Master, I hear.”
“But it is still not right,” noted Toc.
Pitth twisted the stone slightly to the right. He listened.
“Yes, that’s it,” commented Ng.
Toc’s face brightened, his almond eyes widened, a beatific smile split his face. “Yes,” he declared, “That’s it right there. Perfect. Well done, young Pitth!”
“What did you learn, student?” pressed Ng.
His center nodded. You understand.
“I cannot change events,” Pitth said in a cool, even voice, “but I can manipulate and control events by manipulating and changing the conditions around the events. If I listen to my center, I can even get the events to occur precisely as I want them to occur.”
“Well done,” Toc said, raising to his feet. “Ng, discuss with him about the alien, then leave him to his meditations. I will see you this evening at last prayers. Good night, young Pitth.”
For the next hour, Ng told Pitth many things. About his friend Grrrscnk, and about the secret of the Hecht. About his father and his brother.
Proctor Ng then left Pitth to his meditation.
Chapter 4
Six years later
The incense wafted through the temple. The Buddha sat cross legged, hands in his lap, looking serene in his eternal meditation.
Pitth was seated, matching the Buddha’s position. Beside him was the familiar adept, his bald head reflecting light from the hundreds of candles surrounding the two young men.
“Would you believe me if I told you part of me wishes to stay?” asked the Mongol teen.
“I would,” answered the adept. “Just as you know I must insist you leave.”
“Funny, a dozen years ago, I begged my father not to send me here,” Pitth mused. “Now I love this place and would stay forever, even taking the vow and walking the path to priesthood.”
“And after a dozen years, I believe you would,” the adept replied. “But your father has summoned you; you must go. We both know you have a destiny.
“Besides,” the adept grinned, “you are past time to select your name. In your culture, it’s time to become a man. Finally, I will know you as something other than Pitth. Have you decided on your name?”
Pitth nodded. “I believe it is the only name
I could have chosen. I will miss you.”
“As will I,” his center replied. “But you know where to find me, I will be where you need me the most.”
The rear door of the temple slid aside; the soft sounds of slippers shuffled across the ancient stones. Pitth turned; his spirit center had faded into the ether.
“Your shuttle is here, my son,” his ancient mentor announced. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I am now, Master.”
The view from the rail-less balcony was every bit as spectacular as Pitth had anticipated. The major domo of his father’s Keep had sent a list and diagrams of the available suites. This one sat at the highest vista, the view of the Gobi Desert unobscured. As the suite was unoccupied, he claimed the apartment and moved in.
While there were many priest wearing the same saffron robes he wore, it was unusual to see a resident of the royal chambers in Tenzing’s Keep dressed so. Many sideways glances were directed at him as he made his way through the Keep. His shaggy hair marked him as the son of Tenzing; whispers followed about the robes worn by the son of the Khan. Perhaps he had become a priest while with the Khmer. But with that hair?
Still, until his father ordered otherwise, he was most comfortable in them; let the other residents of the Keep whisper. He scratched at his shaggy hair. Last year, he had started growing it back out into Mongol fashion, knowing he would be returning.
He was trying to meditate on the edge of his balcony, but there were so many distractions. The hot breeze blowing off the desert was one. The commotion throughout the Keep, another. In temple, everyone tended to move in silence. Here, there seemed to be a constant buzz that permeated the very stone walls. And the smells! Pitth had missed eating meat in temple. Here in the ancient home of his fathers, his mouth watered at the smells of beef, goat and chicken floating in the air.
“So, my perfect little brother has returned home, finally.” It was Sui, striding into Pitth’s room unannounced.
“I am hardly perfect, Brother,” answered Pitth, raising.
Sui was a large man now, thickly muscled. He wore traditional boots and breeches. Shockingly to the modest Pitth, his brother was bare-chested, opting only a traditional vest. His head was shaved, save for a long queue.
