Dawn Of The Aakacarns

by John Buttrick

  “I am innocent and know nothing about such things,” she gasped through her sobs. “I was only trying to be helpful and never even dreamed of attacking you or yours.”

  “I truly hope you are innocent and if you are, I will not only apologize for doing this to you, I will provide for your needs and those of your family on into the distant future,” he replied, feeling less sure of himself, and yet not enough to let her go. “Cassi, place her in a comfortable room, see to her needs, but do not allow her to leave.”

  His sister walked up beside the weeping cook. “Come with me,” she said in a gentle voice. It might have been more reassuring if she had not gestured with the spear at the same time.

  Cassiopeia towered over the young mother of two as she escorted her from the room. Anak stood ready to pounce on anyone who attempted to harm those who were under his protection.

  “It is hard to believe Aaken would want you dead. Fileeman must be horrified by the actions of his son,” Vashti stated while shaking her head. Her voice had been calm but the growing redness in her face meant she was trying to bank down mounting anger.

  Anak eyed the door as if expecting trouble to burst through at any moment. “Fileeman told his son to do the deed. Nimrod ordered Pan to track down the traitorous dog and you can be sure the miscreant will be caught and tried for his part in the reprehensible deeds of this day,” he corrected her misconception without lessening his vigilance.

  “Why would he do such a thing?” She responded in a voice twice as loud as before. “My love, why were you even out of the house? Your next class is less than an hour from now and the past hour or so was when Nimrod was scheduled to have you hear and record the new Aakas.”

  “He came and after the recording I needed to go for a walk,” Jubal began and told her all that had happened, ending with, “These lightning bolts are the result.”

  He pulled open his cloak and robe, baring his shoulders. By then her face had returned to its normal white complexion, and she seemed more concerned about the new Aakas to determine status.

  “They look to be made of gold,” Anak shared his observation. “They are attractive and I think knowing one’s rank in potential is important. Maybe Fileeman would have waved off his son from shooting the arrow if he had known you wield nine times the power of Nimrod.”

  Vashti reached out and caressed Jubal’s shoulders. “They look like the precious metal, but feel like the rest of your skin. I am glad to know your strength in potential and am eager to learn my own. The lightning bolts are discrete enough, being on the shoulders, for people who do not wish to display their rank, yet I agree with Anak. Everyone should know just how powerful you are.”

  Given her frequent attempts to get him to do more to promote himself, Jubal could not say he was surprised by her attitude. “Well, I am not going to walk around with my cloak and robe pulled down and wrapped around my waist so people can stare at my shoulders,” he made clear and then resettled his garments, covering himself properly .

  “Well, I want people to know how badly you can hurt them if they try to hurt you, but not by them seeing you half naked” Vashti replied in a reasonable tone, which made him think he had won the point, but then she drew in another breath. “When Roddy is through with Fileeman, I am going to have a talk with the Tiny, and neither he nor Aaken will enjoy the conversation, especially after I drive home each point with a shot of my potential,” her voice had grown harsher with each word, and then she smiled sweetly. “You, my love, will display your rank even if I have to sew golden lightning bolts onto the shoulders of your cloak.”

  “Her solution to your concern is well thought out,” Anak gave his unsought after opinion.

  Jubal rolled his eyes at the remark, yet knew when to give in. He pulled off the cloak and handed it to Vashti. “Keep in mind a new lightning bolt will need to be sewn on as the potential at my command increases.”

  “Another wise decision,” Anak said with a smile. “You are making quite a few of those since the attack.”

  Jubal was tempted to leave the man floating somewhere close to the ceiling, but figured it was not worth the cost, not in power, but in time and words spent answering to Cassi. “I have to go prepare for my class and you need to stay here and make sure no one harms my wife.”

  “I can protect myself,” Vashti was quick to say.

  Jubal locked gazes with her and whatever she saw in his face made those beautiful violet eyes go wide and her mouth snap shut, Anak was not so astute. “I will go with you,” he mistakenly contradicted.

  Cassi’s possible response not-withstanding, indigo light enveloped the man quick as a blink and his feet began to rise from the floor. “You will stay here and make sure no one harms my wife,” there was no mistaking the command in that voice.

  Anak’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in a great swallow and a sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow. “Right, I will protect your wife.”

  “A wise decision,” Jubal replied and then lowered the hunter back to the floor.

  People often mistook his agreeable nature as something they could count on to get him to acquiesce to their demand, request, or point of view, but Vashti knew where the limits of his willingness to bend came to an end. Anak had just learned where one of those boundaries was located.

  Jubal went to his classroom, ignoring the stares he collected along the way from the assorted Nephilim who had come to learn. Since he was still glowing with Potential, if any of them had comments, they waited until he was well out of hearing range.

  The eight students, five men and three women, deemed capable of playing their instruments and reading the notes, arrived on time, but they were a somber group. By the time the granules from the sandglass filled the bottom for the second time each person could summon and wield his and her Potentials adequately and safely. Each of them bought a producer and would likely use the Aakatool far more than the actual Melody; such was their choice to make.

  Vashti had not finished with her class, yet Jubal’s schedule was complete. He decided to spend the time in his study and then dine with her later. The standing lamps were unlit and it took him awhile to realize he was seeing by the light of his Potential. His mouth was so dry it would have been difficult to spit, had he a desire to do so, which he did not. The Da Capo had been in place for hours and it was time to remove it, but not before lighting the lamps.

  When the flickering flames came to life, he ceased the flow from his pool of life-force energy, grabbed a glass and a pitcher of water, and sat drinking until his thirst was quenched. The invigoration helped his thinking, but few of his thoughts were pleasant.

  With both palms on the desktop, his fingers drummed an anxious rhythm, a rhythm driven by the troubling events and his reactions. Was he being too hard on Aricana? He barely knew her, having only met her days earlier, and had no reliable way of determining what she might or might not be capable of. That arrow dramatically altered his thinking, causing him to assume the worst, and be less willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, but such had been the cost. He would gladly suffer loss in wealth, prestige, or any number of friendly relationships to keep Vashti safe.

  Part of him, a small part, wanted all of the conspirators to drop dead, but he could barely form the thought without feeling guilty. No one had been executed, not since before the flood, and he hated the idea of bringing back such a penalty. It was doubtful Roddy or Semiramis would feel as reluctant, nor the people who had gathered stones to kill Aaken and his three friends, which was a concern. The guilty needed to be punished, Jubal fully understood, or the canker would grow with people getting the idea murder was an acceptable means to an end.

  The door opened and in walked the Aakasear. “Did you know all of your outer doors are being guarded by Weapocarns and that Orion is out in the hall watching your door?”

  It never seemed to occur to him to knock before entering, but that was a small issue and not worth mentioning. Jubal thought of the lightning bolts on his
shoulders and wondered if he was about to be set up in a similar fashion, to be tricked into doing something he would normally be reluctant to do. He kept his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I knew some would take up the duty. Cassi and Anak were the only ones I knew specifically were in the house.”

  Nimrod’s gaze held a moment more, flicked to the drumming fingers, and then he nodded and sat down in his customary chair in front of the desk. “Fileeman sought refuge with his tribal chief, but Javan turned him over to Pan, and the list of conspirators is growing.”

  Jubal interlocked his fingers to keep from drumming the desktop. “I am surprised to see you so soon. It seems to me determining the size and scope of the conspiracy would be a priority and involve a great deal of your time.”

  Roddy nodded agreement. “The task has become one of my priorities, but with Truth Speak and a very willing force of Weapocarns at my command, the guilty should be rounded up within days, and dealt with well before we begin the exodus. We will make such an example of them no one will dare strike at you again, you can be sure of that.”

  “I am not afraid for me,” Jubal felt the need to make clear. “Vashti’s safety is my concern and following that, the safety of innocent bystanders who like Gemeena might be injured.”

  Nimrod raised his hands in a placating gesture. “I never thought you were afraid. Anyone who would hunt a pair of lions on his own is not likely to be frightened by a Tiny. No, I just wanted you to know, I will not tolerate attacks on you or anyone serving in my government. Semi was and still is furious over what happened.”

  Jubal forced a smile. “It was nice of you to come all the way over here to reassure me so.”

  Nimrod stroked his beard a few times, indicating he was taking a few moments to choose his next words. “I purposely did not mention the lightning bolts that would appear after you performed Ranking.”

  “I noticed.”

  “You would not have played the Aaka had I told you ahead of time.”

  “Probably not,” Jubal agreed.

  “Are you furious with me?”

  The annoyance at his friend, after hearing him fess up to what he had done and why, evaporated. It was as close as the man had or ever would come to apologizing. Jubal smiled, genuinely. “I’ll admit to being irritated with you, but somehow the feeling has washed away. The events that followed loom far larger and have proved to be much more irksome,” he paused and then added, “You did not ask me why I am sitting in my dress-robe.”

  Roddy cracked a smile and leaned back in his chair. “Why are you wearing your dress-robe?”

  “Funny you should ask. Vashti is having golden lightning bolts sewn into the shoulders of my cloak. She wants people to be afraid to strike at me.”

  “Your wife is wise. Only a fool would dare call a lightning bolt down upon himself, much less three.”

  Jubal unlocked his hands and rested them on the desktop. “I misjudged the level of resentment the Tinies and even some of the Anakim have toward us. On the way back here I had trouble seeing them as people rather than predators, which is how I see them now. Did you hear about Aricana?”

  Roddy nodded. “I heard, which is another reason I came to see you, to record Truth Speak. You can use it, but keep this Aaka restricted. As to the resentment, none of us realized how deeply the hatred and jealousy had sunk in. The vast majority of the population practically worships us and is eager to live safe and secure under our rule. The disgruntled are but a small fraction and will be weeded out soon enough. Now, let me get my instrument and see to the recording of Truth Speak.”

  It was Jubal’s turn to nod. The Aakasear pulled a flute from inside his gold-threaded robe and played the Melody, which was then duly recorded on a sheet of tanned leather. When Jubal performed the new Aaka, the temptation to focus a beam at the Aakasear and ask him a few questions was truly strong, but friendship won out.

  “I could not have stopped you from casting the Melody on me,” Roddy pointed out after the blue of Jubal’s life-force energy faded away.

  Jubal stroked the whiskers on his chin. “I know you are my friend and that is enough for me.”

  “For me as well,” Roddy replied and then picked up his instrument. “My friend, I wrote an Aaka for your exclusive use and another for general use. The first is called, Producer, and it will make any object having a gem or metal in the construct into a producer. You will not have to hollow out or place a string in any future devices you make.”

  Jubal was touched and thrilled by the gift. “I can hardly wait to learn the Melody and begin making the new Aakatools.”

  Roddy performed the tune and Jubal recorded it. “The tones are pleasant to the ear. The piece is not long musically speaking and is quick to summon life-force energy. The possibilities seem endless and I am eager to get started.”

  Roddy nodded his head knowingly. “I figured as much. Now you have something creative to do while I deal with the conspirators over the next couple of days. The second tune is called, Lasso of Air. It solidifies air into a rope that can be mentally manipulated by the performer.”

  The second Aaka was as catchy and easy as the first and Jubal had no difficulty memorizing the tune or writing it out musically. “This Melody is going to come in handy,” he assured his friend.

  Roddy nodded acknowledgement, adding a little smirk. “That is the reason I composed the piece. All of my inspirations are useful, but I like the fact you recognize and appreciate each one as I present them to you. Well, now that we have smoothed out the rough patch created by my not being totally straight forward about Ranking, and have increased your repertoire; I must go attend some meetings.”

  Jubal barely noticed Roddy get up and walk out. If the Aakasear wanted his friend occupied and out of the way for a few days, he created the perfect diversion, no doubt about it. Jubal was too thrilled to be upset over such a mild manipulation. He had gone out after the lions and Nimrod had evidently been concerned his friend would drop everything to go and personally hunt down the conspirators. Jubal could not deny too much idle time might have led him to think about taking an active role in the search.

  “What am I going to do with all of the strings?” he asked the empty room.

  Over a hundred strings lay ready to be placed in hollowed-out batons; it seemed silly to keep calling them flutes. The answer to his question came, bringing a smile to his face. Angelica, Vashti’s older sister by a decade, created what she called a harp, and would likely be thankful to receive his supply. “I will give them to her,” he decided. “But first I must go have a talk with Aricana.”

  The moment he stepped foot outside the door Orion moved beside him. “Just as you ordered, Cassiopeia is still with the suspect, and Anak is guarding your wife,” the highly skilled Weapocarn informed him. His right eyebrow arched up. “You show no surprise at seeing me here.”

  “I am glad they are doing as instructed,” Jubal replied and headed for the stairs to the first level. “Roddy told me you were out here. Thanks for coming. I know you have better things to do and could be elsewhere.”

  The hunter matched him stride for stride. “I could be elsewhere,” he agreed, “but cannot say I had anything better to do. Keeping you alive seems a worthwhile undertaking.”

  Jubal clapped him on the shoulder. “Come, it is time to question Aricana, and for her sake, I hope I am wrong and that she has no part in the conspiracy.”

  Orion headed into the stairwell, eyed the flight up and the flight down, and then replied, “I almost pity the person who manages to kindle your wrath against him or her.”

  No one was on the steps, not that Jubal had been concerned one way or the other as he started down. “Why would you say that? I do not anger easily.”

  “No,” the Anakim agreed, “but you wield the Aaka quick as I can draw a blade and throw, and can hit multiple targets. You can do so even without being slightly riled up. It is sobering to think of what you might be capable of in a fit of temper. I would rather wrestle unarmed
with a bear than pick a fight with you.”

  Jubal saw no reason to explain about holding Potential at the time or the warning tingle in his scalp or even the time it took to mentally perform an Aaka to the point of summoning life-force energy. Better to keep the talk simple. “So, does that mean you feel sorry for the conspirators?” He asked while descending.

  “I feel no sorrow about whatever fate awaits them,” Orion was quick to reply. “Almost feeling pity is as close as I can come.”

  Jubal stepped out on the first floor and could hear melodies being played in the training room. When he opened the door on Vashti’s class, everyone stopped what they were doing, including her and Anak, and watched him and Orion walk through to the other door. When he entered and closed the door, after waiting for his escort to enter, instead of hearing melodies, voices sounded at once and whatever was being said was indistinguishable in the cacophony of sound. Were the occupants of the room all afraid of the Instructor of Aakacarns?

  Jubal and Orion continued through that room and down the hall into another where they found Cassiopeia and the weeping detainee. Aricana sat slumped in a chair. Cassi stood up from hers. “Brother, she refused food and drink. I could not get her to take either.”

  Aricana’s eyes widened at the sight of him, apparently petrified. Was fear of the Aaka wielder producing the emotion or fear of having the truth made known?