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Flying 271

The wagons sped for the Keep, the forest on the wayside passing by in a blur of green and brown streaks echoing the thunder of the hooves of the great horses. In the lead, Hyle thought of Telos; she had saved Treste’s life and had made it through herself, but had defied Keep logic by insisting on the blood transfer. Impossible. Guardians, especially top Guardians, never defied Keep logic. But, then so had he and all those close to him in going along with Telos. Very strange. Irrational. The hair on the bad of his neck stood up for a moment. And, something else was wrong. Who had put Treste, a first outer, in with Thrasymachus? Only a special order could have produced such a situation. The order would not have happened at lower levels. But, no high level Guardian would place a first outer in such an important position. Unless, there was a good reason or no reason at all, which were impossible. Hyle had a strange sensation accompanying his thoughts. His stomach knotted, his mouth turned down, and he ground his teeth. As tired as he was, he wanted to be in combat. What was startling to him was the thought that this sensation was not a part of Keep training. Then, as a hot sweat broke on his face, the hair on the back of his neck rose up again, he knew that someone was responsible for his almost losing Telos. And he realized what that sensation was. Something that he had blotted out of his mind, until it resurfaced now. It was anger. Impossible.

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Flying 272

Parmenides turned to look at Treste, his eyes barely slits from exhaustion and trauma that flattened his body against the operating table. The fire in his stomach area was reduced by something Platla had given him to a terrible feeling similar to pulling off the scab off a bad cut before it is ready to be taken. But, this was not a small scab, it was his entire midsection. The pain brought his attention back to what was boiling in his mind. He thought that this mission would have been a wonderful first time. “Something had gone terribly wrong; in fact, it was amiss at the start with Treste up with Thrasymachus. She should not have been there; someone made bad planning. But, the Keep Guardians were meticulous planners. Such an error would never have gotten by, unless, unless, it was not an error. Thrasymachus. Fault or betrayal?” he asked himself in a whisper that caused Platla to turn to see if something were critical with Parmenides, then return back to his instruments after determining that he was succumbing to the medicines . “Guardians hardly made faults, and never, never betrayed. Betrayal. Impossible. Yet, he did not disbelieve Treste’s account for a moment. It must be the drugs he was beginning to get. No, he was thinking clearly,” he whispered to himself, through clench teeth. He recognized that he had weird thoughts; he wanted to not only find Thrasymachus, but he wanted to wring the whole story out of him. “Thrasymachus could not have been alone in the planning. He would search him out and kill him. And the others involved.” The thought stunned him. “Impossible for him to even think that. A Guardian killing another Guardian, Guardians.” But, then he realized that he wasn’t just thinking, he was having other mind sensations. He was having killing sensations, wishes for revenge, out of control. “That was truly impossible. His training would eliminate any such thoughts. But, these were not thoughts. They were ideas that were on fire, a raging fire. They were the emotions that had been trained out of him. They were back, and ripping his reason to shreds. He would find out who did this to Treste and they would suffer beyond their imagination. If, of course, I live.” He gave a slight groan. “For Treste, I will live, and hunt,” he growled softly at the ceiling with the steady med lights, the polished surgical fasteners and quick grasp instruments gleaming in the bright light, and Platla’s team as they hurried to get all in place for a battle for his body. Platla gave him another look, and saw more than pain in the clenched teeth.

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Flying 273

Treste rolled her head to the side to look at Parmenides. Their eyes locked. She saw the muffled pain, the exhaustion, the unbelievable relief that they were alive. Torn, disfigured, maimed, yet alive. But, she saw more. “A hardness in his eyes. Battle combat weariness, probably. Though not just weariness. More. A resolve to do something.” She reflected that resolve as the pupils in her eyes expanded her lids narrowed just a bit. And in that instance, both knew that their lives would be intertwined in a pilgrimage that would not only be soul searching, but dangerous. His gaze deepened. No words were spoken, yet the messages were clear. “They were an inseparable team. He had saved her against Keep logic. Impossible. She thought that he would leave her behind according to the dictates of their training, but she knew that he wouldn’t. No, she did not know, she felt that he would not. She had this sensation for him. He for her. Real caring. Wait. Something coming from way down inside. It was… It was a sensation identified by a mystery word, she had heard once before a long time ago. Love. Impossible.”

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Flying 274

Platla and Aiidro turned to their patients. Parmenides and Treste gave each other a last good luck, team heart stare, eyes unblinking the contact only broken as the team medics straightened their heads to face the ceiling. “Ready all,” said Platla to his team.

“Done,” was the quiet reply.

“Ready all,” said Aiidro to his team.

“Done.”

“Done,” whispered Parmenides. Treste could only move her lips the slightest feather of a quiver, but she blinked her eyes twice.

“We’re going to get them through,” said Platla to himself. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and called for his instruments.

“One of the toughest I’ve ever had, but I shall do this; I shall not fail this brave Guardian,” said Aiidro to himself. He clenched his hands, then relaxed them into total control of each finger, each finger tip, every part of his working medically personhood and body.

Masks came gently over their faces and Parmenides and Treste fell into the blackness of drugged sleep. The medical teams began to work with efficiency, smoothness and a determined concentration that evaporated everything around them save their patients and their tools.

Throughout the wagon train, the word “impossible,” rang, rumbled or seethed in everyone’s thoughts. Even Snipe, who had his eyes pressed against the viewport, scanning in places that would not have caught the attention of most Guardians, had a thought that crept up from his memory. It was something that he had heard in a gaming training session about bad Guardians. Someone had proposed a battle of Guardians against other Guardians who had turned away from their commitment to the Keep. Bad Guardians. Impossible. But, he also had this strange sensation, whatever it was, no, he had a gut intuition, that he was going to find out one way or another, whether the rumor was true. Gut intuition or gut feeling. Irrational thoughts. Impossible. But, they were there.

Impossible.

It would be a mind stretching journey home. And they were still three days away.

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Flying 275

The Keep, the third day since the rescue team left.

It was three days since the rescue team with Telos and Hyle had left. Phora and Kinesis were sitting together having breakfast talking about the events of the last three days. They were in Phora’s room, sitting at a small wooden table made of white polished fir. He had unfolded it from a pocket setting in the left wall and had set two small chairs that detached from the bottom as the table sprang open. The chairs were wonders of craftsmanship, made of what looked like strong dark red cherry wood, yet lighter in weight than balsa. They made themselves as a seagull would open its wings to stretch them and fly. Kinesis and Phora were having poached eggs, a wonderful crisp strip of meat, fruits and juices. The colors of the items were as good as the flavors. Red breads which had a stingy hot flavor. Strips of bacon, crisp, not greasy that crumbled when it was chewed. Eggs which steamed their flavor as bread was dipped into them. The table was lighted by a long beam of light that steamed in from the small window. The shaft of light cast a crisscross of shadows on the table from the bars and mesh that encased it.

“It has been three days. Either they are rescued and the Telos’ team will come back with them or the team will come back alone. I shall have the top watches use all detection equipment for any sign,” said Phora. He had removed his helmet, but it was set close by to his right side. His face was fresh and his color was the deep tan of health. But, there were creases along the edges of his eyes. Creases of worry and that of planning for unexpected futures. Kinesis knew something about those worries.

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Flying 276

Her helmet was off too, lying within easy reach of her free hand. They could never let their guard down, no matter that they were in Phora’s private quarters. Her golden hair flowed across her shoulders, flowing sprays of a rainbow gold flumes of a waterfall that grew larger as they reached for the last splash. Her crystal blue eyes nestled set against the flawless cream color of her face. To Phora, who could not stop being drawn to them, they seemed to be moving circular patches of a summer sky embedded in clouds colored golden by a radiant sun.

Kinesis replied softly. “I trust in Telos. She and Hyle will prevail. I have a feeling that all will be well.” Kinesis brushed back a few locks of her hair that had fallen over her right eye.

“That is my reasoning, too,” said Phora. Kinesis did not let the use of the word “reasoning” slip by her, but she only nodded her head. Phora was reasoning about Telos’ quest, but he was feeling the strain. He was worrying. Though he would not admit it to Kinesis. Yet. Phora disappeared into his own sequence of thoughts as he slowly drank the orange juice that he held in a pewter chalice. His eyes seemed to blend with the strong blaze of light that engulfed the table.

Kinesis’ mind began to wander to the memories of the first day when Telos and her team left the Keep. She could remember the events of the team’s leaving; that although much was put together so quickly, Phora and especially Telos devised a strategy to make certain that the Keep would be protected from attack, and the rescue party would survive any ambush. Phora had taken her to a strategic outpost on the outer wall that enabled a “field commander’s view.”

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Flying 277

The outpost was a view parapet from which they could watch Telos and Hyle lead the rescue team out. Phora had not wanted Kinesis to accompany him –he thought that she needed more rest given the terrible fight with Thrasymachus. But, she had insisted in such a strong manner that he knew better than to refuse. It was a long walk through twists and turns, small tunnels, low corridors with many invisible traps. The constant fragrance of dry, cold granite stone soaked the air. The silence in some of the long tunnels was only broken by the soft tread of their armored boots and the slight pings of traps being disarmed and rearming themselves once they had passed. Ergon passed through the tunnels with the skill of a seasoned dancer; his shoulders were almost as wide as the tunnels themselves, yet his armor never scraped once, even in some of the turns which they took at a pace that bordered on a run. After half an hour, they made it to the parapet entrance, which was a solid wall of steel on hinges, a vault, only the vault protected those on side that opened. They were all breathing deep breaths from the trip. Phora dialed in the code onto a silver dial on the polished steel door. He pulled down on a long black gripped handle. The door clicked and eased open, but as it did four Guardians emerged from hidden nearby watch doors combat ready. Phora drew his sword, raised his shield and swept up a small stone staircase. Ergon and Kinesis followed on the run, hearing the massive door shut with a soft thud behind them –the sound of a very heavy tree being lowered the last few feet to the ground. At the top of the stairs was the parapet room, a narrow half round stone with steel bars mounted in it – a stone cage with the bars inside. At the caste front side, there was a small steel mesh window. No light came in, for the outside steel shutters were closed. Phora went over to them and opened them using a coded brass handle that he pushed up when he heard the clearing ping. The shutters scrapped opened with an ear ringing tear of stone grinding against steel. A breeze of outside air came through the mesh; it smelled of open air and a hint of dew and sap from forest oaks, reminding Kinesis that she was indeed in a fortress. There were two other instruments at either side of the steel mesh window. Strange looking instruments.

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Flying 278

Ergon stood by the door to allow a guarded retreat, if necessary. All were scanning the room. Phora remained in a guard position at the small mesh covered window. Kinesis zig zagged over to position herself beside him, looking over the stone outline supports and through the meshed steel. Phora nodded for her to go farther into the small window, which was larger than it looked. By easing into the window, which was a small version of the parapet itself, she had a complete front view of the Keep leading up to the forest. The parapet was a stone bulge in the granite walls overlooking the main gate, almost like a long chiseled nose high above a square mouth that was the gate. It was used to view not only the entering wagon trains close up, but had a special observation system with two viewing outlets mounted near each side of the window. The system allowed the Guardians using them to focus in on anything around the front of the Keep from the Fifth level. Phora made a brief explanation about prisms and lenses, but Telos became lost in the jargon. What was incredible to her was that the strange mechanism viewed anything near or far with just a twist of the rubber coated wrist handles on the stainless steel pole that had soft black rubber cups and head cushions against which she could press her face. The face mount rotated so that she could look in any direction, even up or down. She could even see over the trees of the forest into the distance, though just the tops of the trees. Not only that, the image was in an expanded three dimension. She could actually manipulate a control and look around an object, even though it was over hundreds of yards, even miles, away. There were objects in the distance, but she did not take the time to focus in on them. “Episcope” was the system’s peculiar name.

Phora had explained that Telos had a good plan in outguessing the Wisp strategy. Counting on her knowledge of Wisp thinking, she deduced that the Wisps would be hiding nearby a bank of the road from the Keep. Telos would feign the fall of the Keep knowing that the Wisps would ambush the “escaping wagons” and plan to use the captives to reenter the Keep. She had even figured out where the Wisps would probably launch their attack.

She had been right. The Wisps had seen the “distressed Keep, had tried an ambush the “escaping wagons,” but Telos’ counterattack was devastating. Kinesis adjusted the special episcope binoculars. She could feel the warm spongy feeling of the two goggles with rubber eye moulds for the forehead as she pressed her head against the mechanism to view the battle. Kinesis watched intently as Telos’ strategy worked its gruesome end for the pigmy gorillas and the Wisps. It was a quick slaughter.

She backed away from the scope.

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Flying 279

“Do you wish to see through the episcope?” she asked Phora, who was staring intently through the steel mesh window, hands pressed against the stone ledge at the bottom.

“No, thank you. I could see success when the attack began --the point at which the wagons ran out of combat order and Sohta made his breakaway ride. The battle was decided then. Telos was absolutely correct on her military strategy. The staging was precise; I could see the wagons circle the suspect area and knew that there was victory. The Wisps were surprised and retreat to safety in the pigmy gorilla bodies was not possible.” Phora turned to Kinesis. “Were you able to see what happened?”

“Yes, but I would not like to see something like that again,” said Kinesis. “Those wagon blades. Terrible. It was like watching a shark in my world destroying a school of groupers. Though the wagon blades are like the shark’s teeth, only more gruesome. Your world is full of violence and trouble.” Phora raised his visor and turned his head toward her. Her crystal blue eyes bore through to meet Phora’s hardened gaze.

Phora turned back to look out at the scene. The wagons were heading down the road. A detail from the Keep was leaving from the main gate to dispose of the torn to jagged bits, pigmy gorilla bodies and the squished sack like remains of the Wisps.

He spoke, but did not turn toward Kinesis. His hands griped the side bars of the window mesh.

“There is goodness in this world, Kinesis. It is the Keep. It is my work to protect that goodness against the violence and trouble which you have duly noted. We must rely on terrible instruments of combat to preserve the good. I am the master of those instruments.” Kinesis noted weariness in his voice, but also a steel cold hardness. He was a Guardian, the essence of a Knight warrior. He was the stop between the evil of his world and the good of the Keep. He would do whatever was needed to protect the Keep. And the whatever was taking its toll.

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Flying 280

“It must be very trying for you, Phora. There is so much horror and viciousness, here.” She had purposefully used the word “trying” rather than “brutal.” She leaned against the stone wall to get a better view of Phora. He turned and faced her.

His eyes were dark and set in hidden shadows of his helmet. He put his right hand on her shoulder, as if to brace himself from what he was about to say. “Yes, it is. And it makes me more certain that I should never have brought you here.” His expression was cloaked, but Kinesis could feel the trembling anxiety through his armor.

Kinesis knew to be careful. Phora was now having feelings, surges of emotions running through his mind that he had never encountered since his conditioning through Keep training. But, she could not be untrue to herself.

“I shall take that response to be a yes to the horror and viciousness of your world. But, you did bring me here into it. Why?” asked Kinesis.

Phora paused. He let his hand down to his side. He bent his head down to look at the floor, not wanting to bear the direct vision of Kinesis. “It was simple desire for your beauty, your sensuality, at first. I had searched worlds for something that was missing in my life. That was the motive when I went into your world. I had never seen anyone as pure and beautiful as you. But, there is much more that I have discovered since bringing you to the Keep. And it is confusing to me. Other factors must be in play, factors that I do not know. That makes events dangerous for you. For me, and ultimately the Keep.” Phora’s eyes shone dark, melted brown, yet there was lightning in the darkness of his pupils.

“Of what factors do you speak?” asked Kinesis.

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Flying 281

Phora scanned around them, then turned to look out the steel mesh at the Guardian team that was finishing disposing of the carnage by building a large funeral pyre. He gripped the bars as if they imprisoned him. “I do not know. That is, not yet. It will take time to find out. In the meanwhile, you must be on guard against unexpected foes.”

“I do not understand. If I am in the Keep, what foes could I have?”

“That is what baffles me. I cannot imagine any Guardian doing you harm. The conclusion of your complete safety is what Keep logic would deduce. Yet, Keep logic has been violated. The error in thinking and behavior with Thrasymachus is unbelievable, yet it happened. There could be trust problems with Guardians at the Keep. Which is impossible, given our training. And, there are others higher up that could be problematic, though that circumstance should not be. That is what I, what I feel, as you would call it. Something is awry in the Keep; I feel it. Your being here seems to have brought whatever it is out into the open. That is not your fault; it may be that you are an out of order factor in the way our world operates. My mistake was to have succumbed to my desire for you and thus put you in danger.” Phora slide his right hand up and down the lower bar of the steel mesh, gauging its thickness and strength. There was a smooth metal scraping that gave way to a steel note that intoned the air with something between a screech and a harmonic bell sound as he did so.

“The trouble would have emerged with or without me,” said Kinesis.

Phora let the forehead of his helmet touch the bars. “Yes, I think so, but with you here, you are endangered and the process is bubbling problematic fast. I have risked your life for the sake of desire. That certainly violates Keep logic.”

“You are puzzled by a contradiction, then? What is it?” Kinesis leaned forward to see Phora’s face.

The response was immediate. “I cannot fathom how far I have fallen to let desire sway my rational thoughts. My training should have prevented that. More so, there are these new sensations that have boiled up in me. Sensations over which I do not have precise control. Again, these feelings as you call them. They indeed are problematic to Keep logic.” Phora ended his sentence with a slight hammer of his closed right hand against the stone wall.

“Those are the feelings or emotions that I told you about, Phora. You have a real part of me in you, my feelings, my emotions. It was the Pearl. I cannot say that they will not cause you to struggle (Kinesis paused) greatly. For me, it has taken much to master them, if I have really at all.”

“I think that you can see that I am already in a battle within, Kinesis. I fear to even mention what my thoughts and feelings, as you say, are doing as they war within me.” His eyes flashed and for a split second Kinesis saw they wolf, tiger, dragon and Guardian all at once. There was more, but it was gone before she could apprehend it.

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Flying 282

Kinesis was about to respond, but there was the sound of the steel door from down below at the end of the spiral staircase opening and shutting. Footsteps in haste echoed against the stone walls. A messenger Guardian came in quickly and paused at Ergon’s side.

The Guardian spoke. “Phora. There are two persons examining the wagon caravan. As you know, the wagons are under guarded quarantine until all the complete scans are run by tomorrow afternoon. The two are a Guardian and a leader from the upper levels. Could you come and help with the situation? They have preempted our objections. The upper level leader is not even armored.” Ergon gave a ferocious shake of his head with the last sentence, much in the same way he would do were he to see a child playing with the wagon scythes.

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Flying 283

Phora turned to Kinesis. “Kinesis, I shall have Ergon escort you back to your quarters, which will be next to mine. You will be safe there. I must see to this violation of safety protocol. Such action is unheard of in the Keep.” Phora nodded his head to Ergon, who nodded back.

“Phora,” replied Kinesis. “I think that I would be safer in your presence –no sleight to you Ergon. But, I would not like to be alone in my quarters so early after all that has happened.” Kinesis moved ever so slightly towards Phora. She took a quick scan around her. She realized that in only less than a day, she was acting like a Guardian. That gave her a chill and yet a peculiar feeling of strength and belonging.

Ergon looked to Phora who stood quietly for a moment, scanned the room, then said, “That is alright with me, but you will have to accompany Ergon and me to the lower level where the wagons are. It has been secured, but not completely scanned. There could be hidden dangers.” Phora shifted his weight so that he was in a perfectly balanced combat position. Ergon followed his movement unconsciously.

“I shall be wary of the dangers. You and Ergon I am sure will be sufficient for my protection,” said Kinesis, with a bit of a bite to it.

Ergon replied with a slight stomp of his right foot. He did this when he knew that there could be trouble, but that the situation could be dealt with.

“Your presence will be appreciated,” said Phora.

“Yes, especially after seeing how you dealt with me,” said Ergon. There was a tap of his left foot. Phora saw it and wondered. He had never seen Ergon do that. Probably Ergon didn’t realize that he had done it. There was a hint of irony and humor in Ergon’s reply. “Strange,” Phora thought to himself. Humor with Ergon --feelings? He tapped his left foot slightly against the gray stone floor. Without knowing that he had done it. But, Kinesis noticed it all.

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Flying 284 “To the wagons,” Phora exclaimed. Ergon called passwords to the guards at the other side of the steel door to the parapet. A quick muffled reply and the four inch thick steel door ground open. Ergon went through the oval door to the parapet, followed by Kinesis with Phora at her back. The door eased back into place with a loud air thump. It was not only a vault door, but was sealed so that nothing, not even air could enter the Keep through it.

Ergon led them down a long narrow corridor. The stones were a battle gray against the small torch lights, but the air had a pleasant dry stone scent, the kind around a hearth that does not have a fire in it. She wondered about these torches because they never diminished in intensity, gave off smoke, or went out. The Keep was a blend of the ancient and yet incredibly sophisticated technology. Two times Ergon had them halt while he manipulated some spears on the wall, once with a double twist of the release handle, the second with a pull at the bottom of the far right spear, and hurried them on passed him each time. He would regain the lead after resetting the traps. Kinesis could see nothing but the spear racks, shields, axes, helmets, ropes hung along the walls, but she knew that death was always only a footstep away if the wrong code were given to the traps.

They stopped at what appeared to be just another section of the wall. Ergon pushed certain caramel colored brown stones in a two, three, one pattern and a part of the wall opened, looking like a gaping mouth with crooked teeth where the stones fell back as part of the door. They went through and immediately started down a cramped set of circular stairs that twisted around a granite column. Kinesis put her right hand against the column as they descended. Keep gloves could transmit perfectly the sensation of what they touched. The column was smooth, unflawed, yet its surface gave a fair amount of resistance for balance. It felt like some of her finest sand dollars. The door above them closed with a smooth grinding grit sound and a small ping. It had rearmed itself. Down they went and quickly, too. The pace almost made Kinesis dizzy. After what seemed to be “enough time to reach the center of the earth,” she noticed Ergon hold up his right hand a little higher on the center column. On the back of it appeared in the blink of an eye a small mirror, which disappeared just as suddenly as it appeared. Kinesis could see Ergon’s eye slits in the mirror. Ergon was checking to make certain that Kinesis was alright.

“Everyone good?” asked Ergon in a whisper. He did not turn his head, but Kinesis knew that his full attention was on her.

“Good,” she replied.

“Good,” replied Phora.

From the sound of Phora’s voice, she could tell that he was right behind her. She thought to herself, “These are good persons, who would sacrifice their lives for me.” Her eyes glistened. It had been a long time, a very long time before anyone cared that much for her.

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Flying 285

After a few more steps, Ergon stopped suddenly and held up his clenched right hand away from its touching guide on the column. Before them the stairs ended. Any farther and they would step into a chasm that disappeared into a falling away pit of blackness. Ergon reached to his left, pulled a small chain on a torch lamp and a slab of granite stone slid from the wall over the chasm. He pulled the chain three times and a wall door with the same kind of jagged outline as the one above opened on the outside curved wall. Stepping on the granite stone, they went through the toothed door. It closed silently making itself an invisible part of the stone blocks of a wider corridor and they found themselves facing part of the circular perimeter wall that encircled the caravan area. Phora went to a portal, gave the signals for the shield to rise only slightly and motioned Ergon and Kinesis to him.

They looked through two inch horizontal opening into the courtyard where the wagons had entered and the battle with the Wisps had taken place. The great horses had been led away and the wagons remained in place, save for the one that had been used to breech the upper level. It had been moved to the center of the courtyard. Two figures could be seen exiting it. One was a Guardian in black Keep armor, but the other had on long red robes that trailed off a once robust figure that had gone soft. The Guardian was short, stocky and moved with efficiency, scanning at every step. The red robed figure had no helmet and looked tall in spite of the lack of armor. An oval face was planted on the front of a head that was out of proportion to a normal sized head –much bigger at the top. A long nose, receding chin, thin lips of pasty rust red, dark hanging bags decorating beady pig eyes, and a torrent of gray and black hair swept back along the sides of the head, which was absolutely bald at the top. Long arms with thin fingers, white and smooth with polished fingernails. Embossed sandals, not armored boots, adorned the long skinny feet. The figure strolled without scanning.

Ergon said quietly to Phora, “Glaucon and Rooiner.” Phora nodded without taking his eyes of the pair. He watched them as an eagle would single out two snakes slithering on the ground below.

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Flying 286

Phora moved three steps to the right, pulled down on the handle of a spear, gave it a half turn twist counterclockwise, and stepped back, drawing his sword and reaching up with his left hand to remove from the wall a square shield. “On my command, follow quickly.” A slab of stone move outward, “Go!” and he, Ergon and Kinesis rushed through. The stone moved swiftly closed. Ergon, without looking or slowing down, on his way through removed a spike headed battle mace from the wall.

They moved quickly towards Glaucon and Rooiner, Ergon to Phora’s right, Kinesis trailing to his left. Halfway to them, Kinesis’ bow sprang to her hand, but as she was trailing Phora and Ergon, they did not see the movement. They halted about ten feet from Glaucon and Rooiner.

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Flying 287

“It is good to see you, Rooiner, but this place is a combat zone that has not been scanned in a finalized way. It is dangerous, especially without armor. You are in serious violation of Keep security,” said Phora looking into Rooiner’s green pig eyes that seemed to overflow from their bulbous sockets.

“Thank you for your concern, Phora, but I have complete trust that your Guardians have mastered the battle and the zone is clear. I am sure that the area is secure. Moreover, I have Glaucon with me, who has many years of combat experience. I think that your fears are a bit exaguraed.” Rooiner swept back the left side of his hair with a hand that had long fingers, fingers that were soft and had no real muscle to their tone, wax white to the color.

“Ah, yes, Glaucon. A trusted Guardian. Nevertheless, the security rules have been compromised. Please come no further until I see Glaucon’s eyes; his visor is down.” Phora swayed slightly to the right, as did Ergon. Kinesis stood statue still. Phora’s hand eased to his sword. Ergon strengthened his grip on the mace. Kinesis right hand stood ready to snatch an arrow from her quiver.

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Flying 288

“Glaucon, please raise your visor for Phora,” said Rooiner with a bit of a snip to his voice.

Glaucon raised his visor. His face was a combat zone in itself. A large pinkish white scar ran from over his left eye down across the bridge of his square nose and halfway across his right cheek. He had the eyes of a bear, massive brown irises, large black pupils, bushy eyebrows that flared haphazard as they reached for his ears. Full lips, cracked at the edges, and jagged teeth, which had been repaired, but had an off center appearance, which, when he replied, “As you wish, Rooiner,” gave the distinct impression that he was talking out of the side of his mouth. His face was a brown red from too much salt in rich food. What little dark brown hair came down towards his eyes was trimmed, but had a greasy shine –the kind that up close would have an old cooking oil smell to it.

“Good, Glaucon,” said Rooiner. He turned to Phora, robes shifting like curtains being drawn.

“What brings you to this place, Rooiner?” asked Phora.

“Well, Phora. I was looking for some materials for my art work. Materials that are hard to come by, unless specially requested from the Miners’ Camp. I had made a specific order for them; they were to have been sent back on this caravan.” Rooiner shifted his ground and looked casually around at the wagons, his lips pursed in disdain. He spoke, to one of the wagons behind him as if it were a person, the one from which they had just come. “Unfortunately, I did not find the materials. They were to have been on the wagon that we have just exited. I believe that it was the one commanded by Thrasymachus. I understand that he committed a serious breech of Guardian tactics and perhaps, the materials that I have not received are a result of that poor performance.” Rooiner paused and lifted his eyebrows slightly. “He was a Guardian under your authority, I would assume.” Rooiner returned his eyes to Phora by turning them to Phora as his head was fully sideways, then swiveling his head to match up straight with his eyes –the way a cat fixes on a mouse, then slowly turns its head to the mouse so as not to alert it.

(to be continued)

Flying 289

“Thrasymachus made bad choices. I shall inquire into them. In the meanwhile, I think that it is best for your safety to exit this area,” said Phora. Phora studied each and every movement of Rooiner and Glaucon.

Rooiner spoke with the smoothness of a snake’s hiss. “I think that you are right, as always, Phora. We shall leave. But, who is your new Guardian to your left. He has not removed his visor as you and Ergon have, which I believe is a breech of security. I would think that proper protocol would require him to reveal himself before we reenter the protections of the wall. We should not jeopardize the Keep.” Rooiner was regarding Kinesis with intense scrutiny.

Kinesis edged very close to Phora. She spoke in a whisper without turning her head towards Phora. “I cannot will my visor open. My armor will not respond to my command for some reason. And I trust it. There is danger here.” Having said that, Kinesis backed away to her stance on Phora’s left.

(to be continued)

Flying 290

Phora slowly scanned Rooiner and Glaucon from head to toe. “A new personal Guardian, whom I trust implicitly. There may be a mechanical issue with the armor, but I shall handle that as we leave after you.” Phora spoke, causally, yet with firmness in his voice, as if his answer were simply a matter of fact. He took a half step towards Kinesis to make a space between him and Ergon through which Rooiner and Glaucon could pass.

Rooiner did not move. He tilted his head towards Kinesis. “Ah, but that should be no trouble for Glaucon to fix before we take leave. Glaucon, you know combat emergency codes. Try one of them on the visor of Phora’s Guardian.” Rooiner shifted his weight and pulled the edge of the left hand long sleeve of his robe back, exposing his white arm, but making it ready in a casual way. Kinesis could feel her armor vibrate with wariness.

(to be continued)

Flying 291

Glaucon immediately took a quick step towards Kinesis, his shield hand stretched out towards her helmet, his right hand on his sword. His aggressive thrust indicated that he would remove the visor one way or the other. Phora’s left hand shot out and grabbed Glaucon’s arm pulling it toward him, turning Glaucon away from Kinesis. Glaucon’s armor ground against Phora’s. Glaucon did not pull his sword, but reached to its side for a hidden dagger. Kinesis jumped to her left to gain a clear sight of Rooiner, her hand flashed to her quiver. Ergon brought his mace down on Glaucon’s left shoulder with a blow that was hard enough to counter any movement of Glaucon, but not enough to cripple. Rooiner had a short, hardly visible, dull gray, silver tube half way to his lips aimed at Phora’s face, but the pipe stopped short of his lips when he saw Kinesis move toward him with two fast steps, bow up, fully drawn, with a razor headed arrow aimed between his eyes. The keen point sparkled with the clear message of razor sharp edges shock penetrating the front of his head and exiting the back with his brain and mind with it. He knew from the rock solid steadiness of Kinesis’ stance and locked draw on the bow that he would be dead the instant he moved the tube closer to his mouth. Glaucon, stunned by Ergon’s blow, dropped the dagger and stumbled backwards, left shoulder down. Kinesis took one very slow step back, did a downward indication about the tube to Rooiner with the pointed arrow, returning its aim to the spot between his eyes. Rooiner nodded, then put the silver tube back under his sleeve. No one moved for a second.

(to be continued)

Flying 292

Then Rooiner spoke. “We must have a terrible misunderstanding, here. I am not familiar with combat protocol, so I must accept full responsibility for what disturbance has occurred. We presumed beyond our factual data; the visor did not come up, therefore, we considered him to be an enemy, and that you were unaware of the danger. Were your new Guardian a real enemy, we would be dead. Again, Phora, you are right. I should have left the situation in your control. Your control over a combat zone is absolute. My apologies.” He turned immediately to Glaucon.

(to be continued)

Flying 293

“Glaucon, are you injured?” he asked in a sing song voice.

“Just stunned,” replied Glaucon, giving Ergon the look of a hungry dragon.

“Then, we must exit. Phora is correct. This is not a safe place for us.” Rooiner hurriedly gathered his robes together in a smoothing motion, signaled Glaucon to precede him and called for the doors to be opened. He moved in a fast paced, slew footed, half run to the portal in the wall, a goose on the run. Glaucon followed left shoulder down a bit, opening and closing his left hand. Without a glance back, they left the area through the portal that had been opened for them.

When the door made its heavy muffled thump as it closed behind Rooiner, Kinesis turned to Phora.

(to be continued)

Flying 294

“Phora, I am truly sorry, but my visor would not come up. My armor was telling me something, something about the two that came out of the wagon. I trust my armor. Glaucon and Rooiner are not good persons.” Kinesis spoke, and as she did her visor flipped up revealing her stressed, but relieved face.

Phora replied instantly. “Kinesis, once again, I think that you saved my life. You are not even trained in Keep combat, yet your response to the threats was textbook perfect. I would have been an easy target. Ergon, did you see the silver tube?” Phora scanned the area as he talked, looking to see if any of the windows were cracked. They were not. He turned back to hear Ergon.

(to be continued)

Flying 295

“Poison mini darts. Rooiner is good. Very good. The concealment was perfect. Had it not been for Kinesis, I fear that we would have found you dead tomorrow morning, without explanation. I never saw the tube until Kinesis’ action froze him. Phora, how can this be? He is a leader from the top levels. A leader would never harm a Guardian. His training is just as rigorous as ours. And was Glaucon in on the action? If so, this is very bad; he is an old trusted veteran.” Ergon scanned as he spoke, all the while shaking his head in unbelief and thumping his mace against his side. Kinesis was amazed. Even those thumps would have knocked her to the ground, yet Ergon seemed to savor them in a soothing way as she did when she put her bow lightly against her head.

(to be continued)

Flying 296

Phora had a deep frown on his face. “Impossible. You are right Ergon. What we have witnessed is impossible given our training and the training that Glaucon, and yes, Rooiner have received. However, we saw with our own eyes that Rooiner had a poison dart tube, the kind used by assassins. Assassins were part of an era long ago and done away with. Not even the equipment or training manuals were left –at least to my knowledge. Yet, he had a tube and was clearly able to use it. Worse, I looked closely at Rooiner’s robes. There was a distinct bulge under his right armpit --a hidden pocket under his robes. Well, crafted for stealth, but I saw it. And something was in it. Something he removed from the wagon. No scanning alarm went off near the portal through which they left, so it was not a living thing or a substance dangerous to the Keep. I take that back; substances that we know of or consider to be dangerous did not set off the detectors. Whatever it is, he did not want us to be aware of it or find it in the search of the wagons. I could have stopped them, but there would have been a battle. Their lives would have been lost, perhaps ours too, and the balance of power in the Keep would have been affected. Rooiner is a very powerful leader at the upper levels. Glaucon, a veteran Guardian. We must set inquiries into motion to find out what he brought in and why. Most importantly, we must prepare ourselves for the worst, which is when leaders go bad.” Phora scanned the area, traced a circle in the dirt with his boot, slashed a line through it, and looked back to Kinesis.

(to be continued)

Flying 297

“Kinesis, I have again put your life in great danger, while you have saved mine. Rooiner will seek to find out who you are. When he does, I am not sure what his action will be, but I know now that it will be very dangerous for you. For the time being, I am afraid that you must always be in my or Ergon’s company.” Phora took a deep breath and shook his head as if he had condemned Ergon to bear the world on his shoulders. He looked at Kinesis, caught the glimpse of a smile. “Do not mistake me. I am truly worried. Rooiner had the mark of an assassin. And he is a leader, which means that his intellectual abilities are considerable. As you say, he has gone bad. So, too with Glaucon. There must be others. We have disturbed some group that has great power. They will strike at us, you, Kinesis, probably first. If any harm came to you… If any harm came to you, there would be very hard times for the Keep.” Kinesis’ hint of a smile disappeared. Ergon mace was furiously rapping his right leg, though he took no notice.

“We must return to our chambers. Ergon, call in the trusted circle, those who are here, so that we may discuss what we have discovered and take action to rectify the situation. When Telos and her team get back, we shall have a complete meeting.” Phora spoke, then closed his visor.

“Done” said Ergon.

(to be continued)

Flying 298

“You do not think that I shall be too much of a burden on you and Ergon?” Kinesis asked. She shifted her bow back to its resting place. It seemed to adjust and conform to her body shape by itself, almost as if it were bending to match the curves in her armor.

“No, not at all. I have already said that you are a personal Guardian, so Rooiner and his group will accept that title. He will certainly find out who you really are in no time. I shall deal with his political response to that when it comes. The dangerous responses are the ones that cause me to think far into the future. But, we must leave now and return to a secure meeting place. I think that we shall need a new traveling formation to go along with your title, at least for the present. I do not like it, but we must be consistent with what was described. Ergon take the lead, I in the middle, you shall bring up the rear,” said Phora, with a scan of the upper overlooks.

She looked at Phora, but his body movement gave her no clues. But, she could tell that he was still in a combat mode. A glance at Ergon told her that he had received the same message. They were very worried about her safety.

(to be continued)

Flying 299

“Done,” she said. “I shall take your back.”

“Done,” said Ergon. They moved to the door, called the codes and exited.

*******************************************************************

Down another exit tunnel from the caravan area, Rooiner stopped and turned to Glaucon. There was a snarl on Rooiner’s face, making his pig eyes even all the more ugly.

“Find out who that new Guardian is. He is small and skinny, probably not much power, but very fast and astute.” Rooiner’s right hand rose to stroke his receding chin, which because his head was lowered in thought looked like a part of his turtle neck.

Glaucon shook his head and raised his visor. “Small and skinny, but not as weak as you may think. If I am not mistaken, that bow is one that belonged to the ancients. How he got it, I will find out. But, I do know that those bows require extraordinary strength to string, much less even draw. No, there is more to this new member of Phora’s team than meets the eye. I will find out who he is.” Glaucon maneuvered his left shoulder in a circle to ease the throbbing pain from Ergon’s blow.

They left climbing a secret stair to the place where a conveyer would take them to the fifth level.

(to be continued)

Flying 300

The memory of that encounter with Glaucon and Rooiner was still, three days later, sharp in Kinesis’ mind. Its vividness faded as she became aware of her paused half reach for her cup of tea that she had been enjoying at breakfast with Phora. She had been frozen in thought for a few disquieting minutes. Kinesis’ attention turned back to Phora who was intently staring at her across the table at which they had been enjoying breakfast. He was leaning forward, a puzzled, concerned and wary look on his face.

“Kinesis, are you alright? You seemed to be lost in your thoughts and then made some flinch moves with your fingers.”

“Oh, Phora. I am sorry. Yes, I was remembering the day the caravan returned and Telos’ rescue party departed. And the troubles that came about after that. Most especially, I was lost in my memory of the encounter with Rooiner and Glaucon.” Kinesis moved back to sit up straight in her chair. She seemed to give a shudder as if a cold wind had swept through the room. Her hair flowed down over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were glacier deep in color and weight. She had spent the last two days under Phora and Ergon’s constant watch. Though they tried not to let it show that they were very concerned, they would react to the slightest difference in mannerisms of any thing or Guardian. Kinesis could feel their angst.

She asked. “Do you think that Rooiner has found out who I am?”

“There is no question that he has. What remains to be seen is what he will do. I shall be prepared for all contingencies. That was one of the items that were carefully discussed at the preliminary meeting of my close friends; the one we went to the night after encountering Rooiner and Glaucon. I know that much may have gone by you without explanation, but you did not seem to mind or question, so I left it that you were alright with our plans. Much was accomplished there, especially the watch detail for you. There are others whom you may not see, but they are there. I know that you are aware of my and Ergon’s watching over you. I have tried not to show it, but when I or Ergon flinch, you drop into combat mode, almost as if you were sensing the same things we sensed. You are a Guardian without the training. And that is unprecedented.” Phora rested his chin on his folded hands, elbows on the edges of the table. His had the look of a young child staring at a mysterious puzzle with thousands of pieces.

(to be continued)

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