It had been a long roa of meetings and training for Graid, who was not fatigued as much as he was terminally bored. He suffered through endless analyses of the progress of Nahlai with Kolob, and the verbal confrontation and mental assault with Rhonva. A timeline was established concerning Nahlai’s intimate affairs with Kolob, and a projection as to the time it would take before he would be completely under her emotional control. Information was disseminated regarding Rhonva’s position within the Leviathan, and what resources he might command in his attempt to eliminate Nahlai, and what group of Novans were in charge of him, and if there were other agents like him. All agreed that for optimal success, Nahlai must cultivate resentment within Kolob against the TELREC, and to a lesser extent the Leviathan, though with Kolob’s reaction to the AG collapse it would be an uphill battle. TELREC response, or the lack of one regarding Rhonva’s superiors was also discussed. Most felt it was unlike the TELREC to leave rebellious elements untouched, especially within the Leviathan itself, and felt confident it would only be a matter of time before the TELREC struck back against those responsible for the training of Rhonva. Graid, often the dispassionate observer of the Rell of Rellcine, thought of them as children trying to solve a problem beyond their means. He knew that secretly, in each of their minds, the Rell longed for the Kal-Durrell to end their silence, to take command of them in that most perilous of times.
Graid’s training had also been increased. Ever since the death of Martel, a new sense of urgency consumed Rellcine. Uonil was adamant about reviewing status reports, chronicling his progress, much to Graid’s chagrin. He spent more and more time on Novan evading the eyes of his trainers, indulging in his carnal desires. No one on Novan cared who he was, or what his responsibilities were. All the women of Novan cared was if he was good in bed, if he could afford them, or if they could afford him. He knew when the ears of the Rell were closed to him, and they were closed now, focused on their supposed destiny. Once in a while he would revisit Uonil on the subject of an allegiance with the Leviathan but she was adamant in her refusal to listen. So he decided to wait, and let knowledge sink in, and events influence her mind, then to revisit the battle. But now it was the scientists assigned to him that concerned him more.
They keep searching more and more for the limit of my powers. And they are less convinced when I deceive them. Luckily, the mission has gotten near a critical time when they can ill-afford to be testing me. But it is hard to hide my boredom — so little I review lately challenges me.
Some of his trainers had been reassigned and in their place even more men of science came in. Biophysicists, chemical engineers — there were too many to count — each of them performed test after test on Graid, before and after his training, to attempt to quantify the creation that was Graid.
I know what they would do to me if they ever found out what power I have. The Kal-Durrell themselves would unleash their fury on me to prevent me from becoming what they most fear.
He had spent several droas trying to relax in his quarters in Rellcine. Darkness was just settling in on that portion of Core. He gazed for a long while out his large windows on the millions of lights glittering in the twilight, hundreds of trans speeding back and forth. Graid had been all over the globes, seen most of what Novan had to offer, that is, most of Core. He didn’t travel much to Topside — it didn’t hold the same level of amusements Core did, and since much of the Leviathan was housed there, he felt it prudent to avoid. But even though he had seen much of Novan, he still felt scenes such as this were truly beautiful. Graid could appreciate the achievement of technology Novan had made, even though it cost them all natural habitats. Other Rell were saddened by the cold feel of the world, while Graid saw it as something wondrous. He knew that in each dwelling something different was happening, unlike Rell, where so much was centered on worship and prayer. He could pry into those dwellings and feel what each person was doing, and it required very little effort on his part. Graid never let anyone know he could do this — they had done enough research into shielding to prevent his mental scans. Where the Rell felt a lack of faith in the Novans, Graid felt excitement, and joy. Graid knew the Novans were a childish people, but they were also vibrant, and alive. While many of them wallowed in sensory excess, others achieved a balance, difficult though it was, and incorporated sentiment and love into their daily lives.
And we killed so many of them.
That is what really kept Graid up. Doubts, frustrations, and even guilt tormented his mind. We killed so many, just to put Nahlai in the right place at the right time. And we did it over, and over again. Graid turned in his bed. I actually doubt in the success of this mission. Never before have I felt this way. I think Rhonva is the key.
The Rell went deep into Rhonva’s past, trying to find out point of commonality between this Rhonva and the ones in other timelines. They found he was completely unique, someone truly different.
If Rhonva had been the same, merely a lleldin supplier, or a corrupt CRODAM officer, what would be different? How would things turn out differently? How will he affect our future plans, change what we will do? It is still too early; we are just nearing the crisis point. We will need to be in our best form to navigate our way through this, and prevail.
And then there was his own survival. He kept coming back to it, the one thing completely out of his control. One roa, I will need to use a greater portion of my power, maybe against Rhonva, and they will see then what I am capable of. What will they do? What will the Kal-Durrell do? They have never shown me their strength, but I can feel it. Each of them are so strong, I don’t know what would happen if I tried to oppose them. Hopefully that roa will never come.
Graid slipped off into a light sleep, for a time, but doubts and frustrations within him came alive again, and commanded him wake. Graid exited his quarters, and headed down the corridor.
I must keep up the show that they challenge me, that their exercises fatigue me. But now it is time for some recreation, I can’t worry about them any longer. I feel as some caged predator — I need some fresh meat to prey on, to play with.
He walked quickly down the corridor, anxious not to be stopped by any supplicants or advisors. He could have mentally prevented them from accosting him, but he always felt this would have been dishonoring the people who had sworn their lives to him.
Still, they can be persistent, sometimes.
Graid was stopped by words he gleaned, thoughts his powerful mind picked up. He stopped outside a closed door to one of the many classrooms in Rellcine, this one with fifty or so adolescents, a female mentor guiding their studies.
“Students, now that we have finished our Energy Mathematics studies, please access lessons concerning the basis of Rell faith.”
Graid smiled for a moment, thinking on the wealth of information Rell children possessed compared to Novan children.
So much technical knowledge downloaded at so early an age — any one of them is a genius compared to most Novan children. Novans may have access to limitless information, but they have no desire to use it. So few of them study as we do.
“Group, do we have any questions of what you have studied, and downloaded? This is the time to be honest, and confront fear or skepticism.”
Graid could sense much doubt and frustration in their minds, but only one was brave enough to raise his hand.
“Why don’t the Kal-Durrell act?” asked a young boy. “Why do they merely observe?”
Graid smiled. Out of the mouths of babes . . .
“Well group, Laho has asked a legitimate question,” said the teacher. “It is told to us that the Kal-Durrell have great power, that their mental power is extremely strong, and they even posses knowledge of the future. The Kal-Durrell, as you have studied, refuse to become directly involved in our affairs, that their place is merely to observe, and to serve as a symbol of the truth and veracity of the Rell faith. It is said sometimes they will override a decision made by the Alçons, but mostly this is an isolated incident. I think
it is important to understand the spirit of their decision. They are not Kals. They are not Messiahs. Unlike the Kal-Alçon, they were not created to fight. Though they demand our respect, they do not command, or amass riches or power. They have sacrificed their lives —”
Sacrifice. How Rell of them.
“— to serve as inspiration, as a guiding force, a vehicle of Kal. Without their presence, we might have lost our faith and degenerated, as the heathen Novans. Does that help, Laho?”
“Thank you, yes.”
Graid could tell it wasn’t the answer he wanted, that he still couldn’t understand how one could have power, and not use it.
“Group, before I move on, let me address the concerns I can feel from many of you. It is a wise person’s last resort to use power. Power negates compromise, and when used capriciously, diminishes the user.”
Ahh, Felllis. You and Martel always had some spirited discussions about me. You both loved the teachings of Oolin, and of Kona. How you must disapprove of me . . .
“At the same time group, it is a coward that refuses to use power when it is needed. The only force that can counter physical or mental power, is faith. And it is faith that the Kal-Durrell teaches us to use. They have faith in us, and that is enough.”
Graid felt some of the doubt assuaged in the class.
“Wouldn’t you say that power sometimes is not fully realized until long after the event?” asked the boy again.
“What do you mean Laho?”
“A decision can wield greater power than the physical or mental actions of an individual. It is only time that reveals the true power behind a decision.”
“That is true. And the impact of such a decision would depend greatly upon the foundation upon which it was made.”
“And if the foundation is flawed, so must be the decisions made from it?”
“Correct. You know that is the governing truth of the Ment-al-Ellin. Was there another question, Laho?”
“What of the Kal-Alçon?” pressed the young boy. “What of his foundation, and decisions that come of it? He had no mother and father to form a solid foundation. What can we truly expect from a being without foundation?”
Graid felt weak. He sensed the teacher, for a moment, knew that he stood outside the door. He could almost hear the unspoken words in his question — a being without faith. The class reeled silently, amazed the student asked such a bold question.
“Laho, you know all of you are free to ask any questions. But, there are some things in which we must trust in the wisdom of the Kal-Durrell. The creation of the Kal-Alçon was at their specific request. As they have faith in us, so must we in their selection of the creation of the Kal-Alçon. Now, we should move on to . . .”
Graid felt dead inside, not that he ever felt very alive. He swallowed, his breath slow, thinking over his life, his direction. For several moments, he firmly wished to be dead, to be rid of this life. But something inside of him, some automatic mechanism wired into his subconscious kicked in, walling off the pain, and straightening his body.
Now, where was I going . . . Ahh, some diversion.
He walked on, away from the children and their questions, away from the mentor who felt his weakness, for only a moment, away even from the memories that threatened his calm. He had just regained his focus, rounding a corner leading to the matt-trans, when he was suddenly shocked still. Arciss was in front of him, leaning casually against the wall.
“Going somewhere, Kal-Alçon?”
Graid smiled at the formal tone. “How did you hide yourself from me?”
“Martel was gracious enough to teach me some tricks, as I was his immediate subordinate.” Graid could feel Arciss’ mind relax, as his awareness resolved into Graid’s mental view.
“Clever, my learned friend,” cast Graid, giving Arciss a half-bow. “But I have pressing engagements.”
“Yes, you do. More training, my master.”
Graid’s brow knitted, as the anger boiled over. “We have trained the entire roa, the entire dcas!”
“And if you did not sense me, it is obvious we need more training.”
“No more. Not this roa,” said Graid firmly. Arciss hesitated for a moment, trying to muster the courage to broach what he knew would be a sore subject with Graid.
“What happened to your faith?”
Graid smiled a wry smile, full of fatigue and malice, showing a thin glimmer of his teeth.
“What do you mean?”
Arciss pressed on. “You have no respect for our religion, even for our way of life —”
“— and yet, I would defend it with my own life.”
“Yes, but why don’t you have any respect for our ways?” demanded Arciss finally. “Why no respect for our religion? You defer to the Kal-Durrell, yet I can tell you do not revere them.”
“I was wondering when you would try this,” said Graid with derision. “I really must have Valcha flogged for putting this in your mind.”
“Graid, don’t hide behind your power —”
“Hide?”
“Yes hide,” Arciss stood closer, strengthening his mind. “I know you could easily reduce my mind to so much putty, and kill me in a thousand different ways, but that would still leave the question; why?”
“Why don’t I go to services,” demanded Graid angrily, “why don’t I recite the Ment-al-Ellin with every other breath? Why do I live a life of pleasure, instead of moderation or abstinence? Why do I flaunt my power, when our illustrious Kal-Durrell preach humility, and compassion?”
“Yes,” said Arciss simply.
Graid came closer to him, almost touching Arciss’ chest. “You know very well if I wished it you would forget about me, about your very life. You may have learned some tricks, but I could crush you as easily as I stand.”
Graid reached over, and ran his hand along his arm. He closed the space between them, pressing his body against his, moving his groin to press against Arciss.
“Besides, maybe you’d like to join me out for a night of . . . fun?”
Arciss smiled a wry smile, and gently pushed Graid away. “I don’t think my Cray would be very happy with that.”
“He would never know.”
“Besides, I know your heart wouldn’t be in it.” Arciss allowed a glance downwards to see if his statement was true.
“I can be into . . . many things. But tonight, I do need the company of women.” Graid backed off, and continued towards the transport.
“Don’t run from me!”
^I am not some child!^ His words were slammed with a mental force that shook Arciss to the ground. He then walked over to his fallen body.
“Remember that. I may grant you the courtesy of acting as my Steward, assisting in my training, but I am the master. Never question me again. I will share with you, one roa, the reasons for my . . . behavior. Only once you have proved worthy, and can stand at my side with strength and honor,” said Graid solemnly. Arciss could only look up, and meekly assent.
What have I done, thought Arciss. Have I failed so soon?
“Do not worry, my friend,” cast Graid, as he softened his expression. “Martel also had a difficult time with me in the beginning. But, we grew to know and understand each other, as one roa it may be for you and me. Come,” said Graid as he offered his hand, “you’ve never been out of Rellcine, never mingled with actual Novans. It’s time you met our enemies face to face. Besides, as Valcha admonished me for not having balance; the faith, versus the sin, I think you need a little balance — some sin, to counter your faith.”
“You know it is in bad taste to joke like that, Kal-Alçon,” ventured Arciss tentatively. “Admittedly, I have been intrigued by Novan society, may the Kal-Durrell forgive me. Maybe I can better treat you if I knew this Novan temptation.”
“Well,” said Graid with a smile, “I think you’d better change.” Graid looked down at Arciss’ conservative garb; a dark grey robe over a beige second-skin, compared to his sheer, tight
fitting aggressive Novan clothes.
“Fine — but don’t leave without me.”
^And Arciss, would you remember to cast. You’ll ruin everything with that voice of yours.^
Chapter 18