Life was just a big pile of dog shit, Richey mused. He wondered why his
mind was still awake while everyone else was in deep cryosleep.
The past year had been the most eventful in his life. Too much had
happened. Too many had died. Well, he thought, maybe going to slam wouldn't
be too bad. Considering what had happened, he's lucky he was just going to a
juvie slam and not an adult slam like the kind where you get no daylight. But it
had been worth it. Every last bit.
His mind began to drift back to the life he had before. Remembering his
Master, Lao Ridd'k, he felt the emotions well up and quickly shoved them back
down. Lao was his father if Richey had ever had one. The closest thing he had to
a parent. Gone. Gone to dust and bones now.
"Richey! Come here Richey, I have a job for you!" The old man sang out.
Richey, just 5, sped into the room where Lao was waiting for him.
"Yes master?" Richey said as he stood breathless before Lao Ridd'k's work
bench.
The old monk was a jade carver and pieces of the stone were scattered
around the workbench in various states of completion. Richey loved to watch his
master at work, see the beautiful things that came from the old man's hands. He
was fascinated with the process of creation, how the different blades and chisels
used could produce such intricacy. He marveled that the tools were almost more
beautiful than the carvings themselves.
"Richey, I need you to run down to the market and get some fresh butter
and some flour. Liu-Tan is making bread in the morning and needs supplies. Here
is some money." Lao handed the boy some coins. Richey sped out the door and
down the road.
Richey remembered the scent of the hills they lived in, the rich almost green
scent of the fields, the perfume of the spring flowers. He remembered the feel of
the dirt, gritty and uneven under his bare feet and the clouds of dust kicked up by
the herdbeasts. Richey even recalled the sound of shuttles, flying overhead, on
their way to important places to do busy things, no doubt. But he didn't care. The
shuttles weren't really part of his world. He wished they still weren't.
Remembering trips to the market were some of his happiest moments. The
smell of the new leathers for sale, the gleam of the pots and pans being hawked
and the best of all. The blacksmith's shop. The heat and the darkness of the
blacksmith's was his idea of heaven. The embers of the smith's fire making the
newly polished knives, swords and various farm implements gleam with a ruddy
glow was almost more than Richey could stand. He wanted to be a smith when he
grew up.
Richey spent every moment he could in the market watching the blacksmith.
The smith was not a tall man, but heavily muscled. His large, muscular hands
could produce the most delicate steelwork Richey had ever seen. And his forging
of swords was considered to be the best on the entire planet. In fact, Richey had
observed outsiders and off-worlders come to visit this smith. The blacksmith
didn't just create swords, he turned out magnificent works of art in steel.
The small enclave where he grew up was mostly inhabited by monks and
nuns although there were families there also. All the monks and nuns with heads
shaved, all in orange robes was a familiar and comforting sight to him every day.
The younger monks taught different forms of personal combat as a way of
meditating, gaining control over the body and thus control over the mind. Master
Lao, in his younger days, had been a swords master, one of the best ever it was
said. The house he shared with Richey was decorated with practice and ceremonial
blades from that time in Master Lao's life. Richey remembered when the old
monk would take a sword down from the wall and into his hands to demonstrate
some of the moves for him. The grace and beauty of his moves surpassed the
monk's jade carvings by far.
They lived a simple, primitive life as did the people in the surrounding
countryside. By choice. They shunned high technology out of choice. They
herded the milk beasts daily. Milked them by hand. Harvested the grain they
sowed, by hand. The people there had made a conscious decision to revert to a
simpler way of life. Richey wasn't to know until later on how the land these
people had claimed was coveted by the people in the cities for it's resources and
space.
In the mornings Richey would practice with Master Quinn. At first it was
simple exercises, and gradually, by the time he was 7 he was handling sword and
staff, sparring with the teens. Master Quinn introduced him to the other
instructors and soon Richey was in the teen classes, honing his martial skills and
keeping up with the best. His instructors were firm but full of praise, as he seemed
a prodigy. Richey, good though he was, did acquire his fair share of sore muscles
and bruises. But, it was worth it. The sense of accomplishment and control he
gained over his emotions as he grew was phenomenal.
He was content. He remembered when he was younger being so very
happy. He remembered the fun he had with the other youngsters in the enclave,
staging mock sword fights and chasing butterflies when their chores were done for
the day. One of his favorite activities was running with the lapuurs, large cat-like
creatures that were domesticated like dogs, only stronger and faster. He had an
affinity for animals that was unparalleled. The lapuurs would obey him when
ignoring even their masters.
He recalled getting in a fight with one of the older boys who was giving one
of the smaller kids a bad time. Richey tended to be protective of the littler ones.
Almost like a parent. Even if it meant getting in trouble, he felt this obligation to
protect the younger ones. But something had bothered him.
Richey knew his friends had parents. A mother and a father. Richey had
Master Lao and the other monks and nuns, but none seemed to be his parents in
the way others had parents. This confused him, even though Master Lao was like
a father to him. He knew that the old monk was not his real father.
Lao only once told him of the story of how he had come to live in the
community. Richey was 8 at the time. Lao felt this was young for the story and
said so. Richey disputed this.
"I need to know about my real parents," he insisted. "It is very important to
me that I know what happened to them."
Lao sighed and began the story.
"It was when I had traveled to Kalimpoor to meet with some newly arrived
monks from Lupus 5. I had journeyed into the city alone, as used to be my habit."
Lao paused, thinking.
"There was a lot of commotion. A lot of people in the city. More than
usual. And there were ships taking off and setting down at the port like bees to the
flowers. Very unusual. I was walking down a street I had not been down before.
The amount of people was overwhelming to me and I sought to reach the port
without being impeded."
Lao's face became a mask of pain.
"What I saw was beyond my understanding at the time. I heard a low moan
and walked behind a building to see what it was. It sounded like a woman in pain.
When I came upon her, laying in the alley behind a boarded up liquor store, I
almost lost my mind." Lao paused, swallowing the emotions, composing himself.
Richey could see the tears standing in the old man's eyes.
"There was a woman, who would have been exceptionally beautiful were it
not for her disfiguring wounds. Long, silky black hair, delicate facial features and
a strength I could see, even as she lay close to death. Her abdomen," again Lao
paused, trying to assess the impact of this on the child, "was a mass of blood."
Richey sat frozen. He couldn't seem to speak or comment on this. He only
knew he HAD to know about this.
"I went to her quickly and offered her a drink of water from my flask. She
coughed, drank a swallow and sighed. I think she was beyond pain at that point. I
ripped a piece of my robe, soaked it in water from my flask and cleaned the blood
off her face. It kept coming. That is when I realized that whomever had hurt her
had ripped out her eyes." The tears were slowly dripping down Lao's face now,
though his voice was steady. Richey was still frozen, numb with the tale he was
hearing.
"The woman raised her face to me and asked, in a very strange accent, very
softly, if her baby was dead. Quickly I looked around, searching for a baby,
realizing that this was why her abdomen was so bloody. They had cut the child
from her womb!" Richey had never seen Master Lao angry, but the way the old
man's face became a mask, Richey could tell this had angered him far more than
anything else that had ever happened in the old monk's life.
Richey went over to the bench where his master was sitting, and moved to
hold his hand. The monk smiled down at him, held his hand, and patted him on
the arm reassuringly.
"Richey, I searched all around the alleyway, looking for a baby. Finally,
behind some bushes I found a rusty old trash bin at the backside of the boarded up
liquor store. And there you were. You had your cord wrapped around your neck,
as if someone had tried to strangle you. You had turned blue. I snatched you up
into my arms, unwrapped the cord from your neck and blew into your lungs to get
the air into you." Now the old monk was smiling widely, savoring the memory.
"I took you to the woman and put you into her arms. She could feel you
moving and hear your whimpers, for you did not cry. She smiled and said to me
"Please, take care of my son." She handed you back to me and with a last sigh,
she died."
"Wow," said Richey. "I was lucky it was you!"
Lao laughed.
"Richey, I think it was lucky for both of us it was me. Whomever had killed
your mother was certainly trying to kill you as well. I hid you under my robes and
made for the rooms I had taken in the city. I was concerned lest anybody see me,
an old monk with a baby. Having been charged with your care, I did not want
your life to be at risk again. I managed to get you back to the modest hotel I had
rooms at and called the port. Luckily the monks had arrived and they had several
nuns with them. Nobody would think it odd for a nun to have a baby in her care."
"Who brought me back here then?" Richey asked, hungry for more details.
"Why, it was Liu-Tan of course. Why do you think she always saves the
best pastries for you?" The master was now laughing.
Richey sat, thinking for a moment. "Master?"
"Yes son?"
"Who do you think killed my mother?" Richey asked, worried.
"My son, I do not know. The only thing I do know is that around that time
there was a great exodus from a neighboring system. It was said at the time a great
army had come to that system and had tried to extinguish the race that lived there.
Whether or not this has anything to do with your mother's death, I do not know."
Richey never again asked about his real parents, but he never forgot the
story Lao had told him.
Richey's tutoring was taken over by Master Giduid when Richey was 9.
Giduid was very strict and insisted that Richey study philosophy and farming, as
well as his martial arts. Master Lao was too old to continue to tutor him, but was a
constant presence in his life.
Richey admitted to himself that he wasn't much of a philosopher and he
REALLY didn't like farming. But Master Giduid would not allow the boy to
apprentice to the blacksmith in town. Master Giduid felt that the boy's mind
needed quieting and that outside influences would be a distraction to him while
trying to cultivate the stillness required of monks.
By the time he was 11, Richey was almost as tall as the tallest monk,
topping out at a whopping 177 cm. His muscle mass far outweighed most of the
teens in his classes as well. And as his 11th year progressed he seemed to
increasingly be in trouble. Richey was more and more aggressive in his martial
arts, trying to work out the emotions he bottled up. They shifted him to the adult
classes as the teens would no longer spar with him.
Master Giduid saw these changes in Richey and was more and more harsh
with the boy, feeling that perhaps Lao Ridd'k had been too easy on him and that
was why now, Richey had become rebellious. Giduid never beat Richey, but he
did manage to find the most noxious of tasks for Richey to carry out as part of his
daily chores. Cleaning the pig sty was NOT one of Richey's favorite tasks.
But, Richey had to tell himself, Lao was old. Past 70. Richey knew the
monk was old, maybe worn out. But in his mind, he grieved the loss of Lao as his
mentor.
Liu-Tan continued to sneak the best pastries to Richey, especially when
Richey had just cleaned out the kitchen midden or had to scrub the poultry house
down. She tried to have something special for him after he had been to clean the
slaughter house. She was always very kind to Richey. Quite serene and poised at
all times, even when kneading the bread. Her face was old and lined now, but her
smile was as ready as ever.
"Richey," she said to him one afternoon, "Come sit and talk with me."
He was surprised, as Liu-Tan rarely spoke, usually letting her smile speak
for her. He sat on the bench against the cool stone of the kitchen wall with her and
she began to speak.
"Richey, I see that you were not meant to be a monk, although Master
Giduid wishes to deny this. I think that he believes that enough discipline will
bend you to his will." She paused, looking thoughtful.
"When I carried you here as a babe, to my new home, I felt that one day you
would accomplish great things. I feel, in part as if I am a kind of mother to you,
and it pains me to see this division and turbulence in you. I wish I could help you
gain peace in your soul." She looked at him warmly.
"If you need me know that I am here. What you do not know is the outside
world. If you decide you have a desire to know about it, come to me." Her eyes
twinkled. "When I was young, I was a shuttle pilot. I have flown shuttles in five
star systems."
Richey couldn't believe this. He was stunned! He couldn't imagine Liu-
Tan the baker piloting a shuttle.
"It's true, I assure you." He grin faded somewhat. " But just as I found it
necessary to retreat to the enclave and leave the world of technology, you might
some day find the need to enter the world I left. If you feel this need, come to me
and I will give you information you will need."
"Thank you Liu-Tan. I will remember that."
The conversation with Liu-Tan stuck with him and over the next few weeks
he began to think about it. He didn't actually want to leave the enclave, however
there were elders of the enclave that dealt with the regional government on behalf
of the people. It might be useful to know about the outside world. A little
anyway. So Richey began to visit the bakery in the very early morning, to talk to
Liu-Tan about the outside world before his classes began and while she was
preparing the morning loaves and sweetbreads.
Richey learned about such things as U.D.s for money, how distant the star
systems were from each other and some of the many races Liu-Tan had
encountered during her years piloting.
The idea of U.D.s was fascinating to him. He had a problem figuring out
how in the world you could regulate a Universal Denomination. The money of the
enclave was just that-money. Solid coins, each with a different value. He
understood the economics of it as well as the barter system, but had trouble
understanding how a monetary unit worth say 10 chickens on one planet would
still be worth 10 chickens on another. Liu-Tan smiled at this.
"Sometimes I do not know how things work either Richey, but this is one of
those things that does work. You have to take it on faith." She grinned at him.
Their talks went on for many months, touching on many subjects. Liu-Tan
taught Richey the fundamentals of plotting a course, how to engage a star drive
and much more. He was fascinated by these things in almost a clinical way. He
wanted to know about them, but wanted no part of them. He would rather spend
his time in the fields running with the lapuurs.
One morning, about a week before his 12th birthday, Liu-Tan's talk turned to
some of the many races she had encountered. She talked about the tall, willowy
Ja'Hadim, the short and almost troll-like Bentant (miners unparalleled), the Qui-
Qua with their humanoid features except for their gills and the water tanks they
carried on air breather ships. A few times she had even seen air elementals, which
was quite rare as they hardly ever left their home world.
"Can they fly?" Richey asked.
"I don't know Richey. I didn't get to see them up close. They kind of blow
about, even when standing still, like the wind is in them instead of on them. It's a
very unusual sight."
Richey thought about this. One would think if it was an air elemental, it
would fly, right?
"Anyway, once, and only once I got to see one of the rarest sights ever. One
that will never now be repeated."
Richey's curiosity was piqued.
"I saw a Furyan. An adult male Furyan. Richey, he was taller than you,
bigger, more muscled. And his eyes..... When he took off his shaded glasses his
eyes were silver!"
"Wow. I wonder why his eyes were silver?"
"I don't know child. Maybe it's just a trait of the race. Maybe only some
have it. I've seen yellow eyes, green eyes, purple eyes, and even your pretty black
eyes. But never before and never again will I see those silver eyes. I will
remember that for all of my days."
"But why will you never see silver eyes again? Surely you might encounter
somebody with silver eyes in the city when you accompany Master Lao to the port
to meet arriving monks?"
"No child. As far as I was able to discover, no other races have silver eyes.
Not one. And as far as anybody knows, the Furyan race was wiped out in a war
around the time when you were born."
Slowly, Richey said "Wow, the entire race?"
"As far as I know, yes. That is what is said. The entire race, extinct."
Richey thought about this. The possibility of the extinction of an entire
race. It was mind numbing. Impulsively he went around the kneading table and
hugged Liu-Tan.
"Richey, you haven't hugged me since you were 6!" She exclaimed.
"I don't want to think about losing you, or Master Lao. Ever." He stood up
to his height again, Liu-Tan being nearly 30 cm shorter than he. His face wasn't
showing emotion, but she could see it in his eyes.
"Don't worry dear, you won't loose me anytime soon."
Richey came back from the dreams of memories and observed the darkened
ship in which he was imprisoned. He again wondered why his mind was awake,
body mostly sleeping unlike the other transportees who were totally asleep. The
pain welled up again, and he quickly submerged it again. All those he cared for,
gone. Those he had tried to protect, gone. Rage overcame the grief and for a
moment, he felt the rest of his body waking. It quickly went numb again and his
mind began to wander.
The memories of that day welled up, unbidden to haunt him. How many
times had he replayed that last day in his head? How many times had he made
himself remember that terrible day? One day, he thought, he would force himself
to forget so he could be free of that pain.
He remembered that entire day, crystal clear. That morning he and Liu-Tan
had talked of the other races she had met on her journeys. He went to his first
class which was simple calisthenics, then to breakfast. He had met Lao Ridd'k in
the dining hall.
"So my son, how has the day begun for you?" The master asked.
"Wonderful Master. I had a long talk with Liu-Tan this morning and had
my first class. I feel good today." Richey smiled at the old monk.
"Wonderful. But, I need to tell you there will be an announcement this
morning, before the end of the breakfast hour. Please, stay here with me to hear
it."
Richey was puzzled. Usually announcements for the community were made
at the supper hour, when all would be present. Some skipped the breakfast hour to
have an intimate meal with friends at home. Richey finished eating and politely
waited on the old monk.
Master Giduid stood and went to the front of the hall.
"Excuse me all. I have an important announcement to make."
A hush fell over the hall.
"I have important news from the elders of the enclave. I dislike interrupting
your breakfast, however this cannot wait." Master Giduid surveyed the hall.
"As some of you already know, the planetary government has been
pressuring us for several years to sell our land here and move to the southern
continent. Their reasoning for this is that the mineral deposits on this land were
unknown to them when our predecessors bought the land and established this
enclave. We believe that this is part of the reason, but the other part of the reason,
the part they do not admit to is that they need the space for the expanding cities in
the area. Our fresh, unpolluted water is needed for the city dwellers. They have
polluted all their water and lands and now want ours. They have given an
ultimatum to the elders. Either we accept their offer or be moved forcibly."
A murmuring began in the hall. Richey could hear people saying NO, and
Unthinkable!
"Now, there will be a meeting tonight and everyone is invited to be there.
We will make our decision at that time."
Richey thought back, ironically, that the government has never intended to
give the enclave a chance to make a decision.
The rest of that day was chaos, none of the classes happening on time,
people missing. There was a general air of quiet hysteria among the enclave.
Richey found this very disturbing.
The meeting was scheduled for two hours after the supper hour. Notices
about this had been posted all over the enclave and Richey expected to accompany
Master Lao to the meeting. The old monk was having problems with his eyesight
and the light of a torch didn't provide enough light for him to see his way
anymore.
Right after dinner, they went back to their small home and changed into
their best. Master Lao and Richey sat and discussed the upcoming meeting after
they were cleaned up. It was while the Master had paused in a sentence that they
began to hear noises outside.
"I'll see what it is Master," said Richey going to the door.
When he looked out, he didn't not truly believe what he saw. In the
distance, beyond the edge of town, he saw a shuttle landing. Two had already
landed. People were yelling and running towards the shuttles.
"Master! There are shuttles landing!"
"Richey my son, this can mean nothing good. Help me change." The old
monk began taking off his robes and reaching for the suit of ceremonial armor
hung carefully on the wall.
"But Master! Do you expect to fight?" Richey was aghast. Master Lao was
now 75 and although in good condition for his age, he was no young man.
"Son, I do what I must. It is better to be prepared than not."
Richey helped him don the armor and got down the best of the swords
gracing the walls and helped the master sling them from his belt in the proper way.
He got down two daggers and attached those to Master Lao's belt as well.
"Richey, I was saving this for your 12th birthday, however I think now is the
time." The master walked to a closet and pulled out a package. He handed it to
the man sized boy he had cherished and loved as the son he had never had.
Slowly the boy took it and opened it. He marveled at what he saw. The
hauberk was exquisite as were the leather armored leggings. The chain mail was
obviously the work of the smith.
"Master." he exclaimed, "This is wonderful! It is obviously way too fine a
gift for me!"
Lao looked at the boy, his eyes full of the pride he felt for him.
"My son, it was to be your birthday present. I have made many fine jade
pieces which I traded to the smith. I wished to show you how proud I am of you,
how much I love you."
Impulsively, Richey hugged the old monk, and found he had tears in his
eyes. Quickly, he regained his composure and began to put the armor on. The
sounds of fighting were beginning to penetrate the house. Master Lao took down
two short swords from the wall and helped Richey buckle them on. He also
handed Richey two small boot daggers which Richey then tucked inside his boots.
"Richey, no matter what happens, know that I have loved you as my son
from the day I found you. Never forget this."
Master Lao then took down a large, ceremonial sword from the wall. He
held it for a moment and said, "This is the sword that was presented to me the day
I became a sword master. I present it now, to you Richard Ridd'k. Use it defense
of the helpless and downtrodden. Use it only when you must, use it only in
defense. Use it valiantly and never for selfish means."
Richey took the sword from his master, his father, with a solemn expression.
"I will father. I promise."
"Now let us go out and see what we can do to protect our friends."
Together they walked out the door.
Richey could see houses burning, people running. One woman was
gathering up children as she fled, leading them to the dining hall. Richey could
see monks and nuns trying to repel the invaders with pitchforks, spears and farm
implements as the soldiers cut them down with guns. He could feel a rage
building inside, a rage that threatened to boil over. He couldn't allow that. He
forced himself to hold the rage at bay, control it. He must not loose control of
himself.
Master Lao walked calmly into the fray. A man in a soldier's uniform
pulled his sword and challenged him. Master Lao had his sword out and the man's
hand detached so quickly Richey almost didn't see it. Lao Ridd'k might be old,
but he hadn't lost his edge. In moments, there was a soldier charging at Richey,
his sword out. Richey let his body take over and within moments his attacker lay
dead on the ground. He didn't really have time to think about this as suddenly
there was another. And then another.
It seemed like he spent an eternity, using sword and daggers, jumping,
rolling and thrusting. This was actually easier than practice, a part of his mind
was thinking. It was so much easier to let the rage flow from his mind to his body
and not have to worry about hurting somebody unintentionally. In this situation,
you were required to wound or kill your opponent. The ease of it almost
astonished him. It was as if he had been built for this.
The smell of blood and dust filled the air. The stench of fear permeated it
all. Richey had lost count of how many men he had killed, didn't even think about
it much. The only thing his mind focused on was the fight. Channeling that rage
so it flowed out of his mind and into his limbs. He noticed that somebody had
loosed the domesticated lapuurs and they were entering the fight. He saw one
soldier go down with a large female biting his face. Despite the pain and shock of
it all, Richey smiled. The lapuurs were his friends to the end.
Spinning around, Richey responded to a yell for help. It was Master Quinn,
fending off 3 attackers at once. But Master Lao beat him to it, and dispatched two
of them in a blink of an eye. Richey hoped that one day he would be as fast, as
good as that.
The fighting continued around him, yells and now and again groans of pain
penetrated his mind. He no longer felt his body at all. He had no idea if anyone
had even touched him with a blade. He continued to let his body move of it's own
accord, taking every bit of teaching that had been drilled into him and letting it
flow naturally out of him, into his purpose of defending the enclave. His friends.
The children. Liu-Tan and the other nuns. He had to protect them. They were
HIS responsibility.
One soldier grabbed a woman by the hair and yanked her out of her house.
While still holding onto her hair, he lit the thatch roof on fire. Richey immediately
went to her aide, with one sword slicing off the man's hand that was holding her
hair and with the other neatly skewering him through the chest. He put one foot
on the man's chest and pushed him off the blade. Helping the woman off the
ground, Richey said, "To the dining hall! Hurry!"
She sped off and suddenly Richey had more soldiers to deal with. Three
this time, but they handled their swords like the rankest novices. He had no
problem dispatching them in short order. But, he was beginning to feel the fatigue
of such constant battle. He saw Master Lao take down four more in short order
before more soldiers moved in to challenge him.
Hazily, he looked around and realized the soldiers had backed the line of
defenders up against the dining hall. Richey knew the children were inside. The
defenders had been almost overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and superior
firepower of the soldiers. Richey saw Master Lao off to his left and Master Quinn
off to the right. He did not see Master Giduid at all.
Suddenly, Master Quinn held up a white flag. He began waving it at the
soldiers and the other masters and the farmers still standing held their weapons
ready.
"We wish to parley. Our community's children and non-combatant women
are in the hall behind us. If you swear not to harm them, we will lay down our
weapons."
The mass of soldiers paused. Their commander came forward.
"We agree to this. As of right now, you are all under arrest. Throw down
your weapons." He announced.
All the defenders looked at each other and hesitantly lay down their
weapons. Richey had forgotten about his boot knives. The soldiers came forward
and began to handcuff the men. One looked at Richey's face.
"Sir, this one's just a kid for all his height."
"Very well, put him in the hall with the others."
The soldier marched Richey at gunpoint to the front doors of the hall. He
could see the handcuffed men were being arranged into a line and forced to kneel.
He had a very bad feeling about this.
The soldier shoved Richey into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Richey could hear the sounds of commands outside and felt a numbness of spirit.
He had killed people. Lots of people. But he had to defend those he cared about,
didn't he? That was the promise he had made Master Lao. He could hear the
crowd of women and children behind him, staying well back. He went to the
window to peek out.
The firelight from the burning houses was so bright that Richey could see
the scene all lit up like it was day. He saw the soldiers lining the men up,
kneeling, in a line, their hands cuffed behind them. He saw the soldiers line up in
a row in front of the men. Clinically his mind examined the scene, the soldiers
grinning, holding their weapons. He could clearly see Master Lao's face in the
light. On command, the soldiers raised their guns. As one they fired.
It was almost in slow motion that Richey saw Master Lao fall, face first into
the dirt. The cold rage exploded in Richey again and this time he could not, would
not force it back down.
Without thought he leapt through the window, shattering the glass as he did
so. The noise attracted the attention of the soldiers standing around.
"Look, it's that tall kid!" one of them shouted.
Richey ran at them with undisguised fury. He pulled his knives out of his
boots, one in each hand. He met them at a full run, his arms swinging.
As Richey slashed at the attackers, he heard the commander warn that they
should take the kid alive. Well, he thought to himself, it will cost you dearly for
what you have done here.
He dropped the first two without effort, graceful in his moves. The next two
were a bit tougher, they were ready for him. They had swords and fought back,
but Richey's training had prepared him for situations like this. Many times had he
met two or even three attackers on the sparring mat. He dropped them and went
on to the next. Suddenly, there were three, then four and all the sudden he lost
consciousness.
When he woke, he was in a slick white room with no windows. He was
secured to a bed and there was a bank of machinery behind him. Something was
beeping. His head hurt.
Suddenly, the events of the battle came back into his head and he felt a
surge of white hot rage. He strained at the restraints, breaking one before a man in
a white coat and a man in a soldier's uniform entered the room. The man in the
white coat helped the soldier hold him down and cuff his right arm down to the
bed.
Richey knew he was fatigued otherwise it would have taken more than just
the two of them to do this. The man in the white coat, apparently a doctor, spoke
in soft whispers to the man in uniform.
The man in the white coat spoke to Richey then.
"What is your name? He asked.
"My name? Why do you care? They killed my father, everyone!!! Why do
you care who I am?"
"We are trying to identify all the survivors of the attack on the soldiers.
What is your name?" The man in the white coat seemed to believe what he was
saying.
"The attack on the soldiers? MY GOD MAN! Don't you realize they came
in and slaughtered almost everyone in the enclave? They were shooting down
unarmed people! They handcuffed my father and shot him as he was helpless on
the ground!" Richey spat these words out, the rage building in him again. He
strained at his restraints.
The soldier murmured something to the man in the white coat. All Richey
heard of this was the word "delusional".
"I am not delusional! You came in and murdered helpless farmers and
monks! I only hope the children have been saved. What kind of animals are
you?" He spat this last at them with all the venom he could muster.
Both men seemed unaffected by this.
"Well," the man in the white coat said, "if you don't want to tell us who you
are we will go through the records we got from the enclave. Although I hate
dealing with those mounds of paper..." He sighed and left the room.
The soldier stood there, looking at Richey. Finally he smiled.
"The group of civilians from the enclave attacked a group of soldiers from a
shuttle that landed to talk to your government there. More soldiers had to be
called in to control the riot. We defended ourselves, that's all."
Aghast, Richey stared at the man. That wasn't what happened at all! There
were several shuttles already on the ground when the people from the enclave
were being shot. Farmers mostly at that point. Armed with farm implements. He
couldn't believe what the man was telling him.
"That's a lie and you know it," Richey said softly.
"No, that's the official word of what happened there. And you will be up on
murder charges once they release you from this hospital." The soldier smiled
again, cruelly.
"You liar!" Richey yelled at him. "You stinking dog of a liar! You are the
murderers! You killed my family, my friends, everything I cared about!"
The beeping of the machinery behind him increased and a woman, dressed
in white came into the room and did something to the machinery. Richey felt the
numbness spreading across his body and mind.
The soldier stood there calmly.
"You will be charged with murder. You will be locked up where nobody
will care what your story is. They will send you to an off-planet slam where you
can rot." With that the soldier turned and left the room, just as Richey was
slipping into unconsciousness.
They kept Richey sedated until the end of the trial. During the trial, he was
forced to sit and listen, semiconscious, to the lies told by the soldiers. How the
government had to step in to prevent an "uprising" among the people of the
enclave. In shackles in the courtroom, sedated, Richey refused to cry or show
emotion. His steely gaze focused on the government's witnesses, all soldiers, with
hatred gleaming in his eyes. Shortly after the trial began, they had put a bit-gag in
his mouth as he began shouting out whenever they began their lies, despite the
sedatives in his body.
Richey was also never given a chance to testify. He was bluntly told by the
judge that since he was a minor, the records showing him to be 12 years old, that
he was not allowed to speak for himself. He had to sit back and watch himself be
convicted of murder. Multiple murders. While the government painted
themselves as angels. Stole the people's land. His people's land. Their lives.
After the sentence came down, the sentence meaning he would go to a
juvenile slam until he reached his 18th birthday, he was allowed to speak. He had
been informed this would happen and he had formulated his thoughts carefully.
"Know this. You who sit here and condemn me. I, Richard Ridd'k, son to
Lao Ridd'k, will never forgive what you have done here today. You took our
land, you butchered my people and you have condemned me to hell. In time, I
hope to forget the details of the slaughter I was forced to try to prevent. But I will
never forgive this. Remember who's hands the blood really stains. This farce of a
police action against my people, against all that I loved. This joke of a trial. I am
sentenced for murder in self-defense, and in defense of the people I cared about. I
saw horrors that will be imprinted on my soul forever. And maybe, just maybe,
one day I will be back to seek justice."
The courtroom erupted into a spontaneous roar as he sat down to wait his
fate. Apparently not all the people there witnessing this agreed with the court's
sentence. Maybe there were some honorable and noble people still left on this
world.
As they took him to the transport that would take him to the shuttle, Richey
could see the crowds outside. He could see and hear people yelling at the soldiers.
The police, in their riot gear, were holding the crowd back. He smiled, despite his
situation. Maybe he wouldn't ever need to come back. Maybe the people would
become sick of tyranny and injustice and rise against the government on their own.
Whatever happened, Richey knew it would be hard to put all this behind him. He
knew it would be difficult to forget. And the worst part of the loss was that he
could never, ever go home.
Richey's mind returned to the present. The dim interior of the transport
ship. The smell of the other transportees. He didn't know what slam had in store
for him, but he felt he was ready. After all, could it be worse than what he just
went through?
mind was still awake while everyone else was in deep cryosleep.
The past year had been the most eventful in his life. Too much had
happened. Too many had died. Well, he thought, maybe going to slam wouldn't
be too bad. Considering what had happened, he's lucky he was just going to a
juvie slam and not an adult slam like the kind where you get no daylight. But it
had been worth it. Every last bit.
His mind began to drift back to the life he had before. Remembering his
Master, Lao Ridd'k, he felt the emotions well up and quickly shoved them back
down. Lao was his father if Richey had ever had one. The closest thing he had to
a parent. Gone. Gone to dust and bones now.
"Richey! Come here Richey, I have a job for you!" The old man sang out.
Richey, just 5, sped into the room where Lao was waiting for him.
"Yes master?" Richey said as he stood breathless before Lao Ridd'k's work
bench.
The old monk was a jade carver and pieces of the stone were scattered
around the workbench in various states of completion. Richey loved to watch his
master at work, see the beautiful things that came from the old man's hands. He
was fascinated with the process of creation, how the different blades and chisels
used could produce such intricacy. He marveled that the tools were almost more
beautiful than the carvings themselves.
"Richey, I need you to run down to the market and get some fresh butter
and some flour. Liu-Tan is making bread in the morning and needs supplies. Here
is some money." Lao handed the boy some coins. Richey sped out the door and
down the road.
Richey remembered the scent of the hills they lived in, the rich almost green
scent of the fields, the perfume of the spring flowers. He remembered the feel of
the dirt, gritty and uneven under his bare feet and the clouds of dust kicked up by
the herdbeasts. Richey even recalled the sound of shuttles, flying overhead, on
their way to important places to do busy things, no doubt. But he didn't care. The
shuttles weren't really part of his world. He wished they still weren't.
Remembering trips to the market were some of his happiest moments. The
smell of the new leathers for sale, the gleam of the pots and pans being hawked
and the best of all. The blacksmith's shop. The heat and the darkness of the
blacksmith's was his idea of heaven. The embers of the smith's fire making the
newly polished knives, swords and various farm implements gleam with a ruddy
glow was almost more than Richey could stand. He wanted to be a smith when he
grew up.
Richey spent every moment he could in the market watching the blacksmith.
The smith was not a tall man, but heavily muscled. His large, muscular hands
could produce the most delicate steelwork Richey had ever seen. And his forging
of swords was considered to be the best on the entire planet. In fact, Richey had
observed outsiders and off-worlders come to visit this smith. The blacksmith
didn't just create swords, he turned out magnificent works of art in steel.
The small enclave where he grew up was mostly inhabited by monks and
nuns although there were families there also. All the monks and nuns with heads
shaved, all in orange robes was a familiar and comforting sight to him every day.
The younger monks taught different forms of personal combat as a way of
meditating, gaining control over the body and thus control over the mind. Master
Lao, in his younger days, had been a swords master, one of the best ever it was
said. The house he shared with Richey was decorated with practice and ceremonial
blades from that time in Master Lao's life. Richey remembered when the old
monk would take a sword down from the wall and into his hands to demonstrate
some of the moves for him. The grace and beauty of his moves surpassed the
monk's jade carvings by far.
They lived a simple, primitive life as did the people in the surrounding
countryside. By choice. They shunned high technology out of choice. They
herded the milk beasts daily. Milked them by hand. Harvested the grain they
sowed, by hand. The people there had made a conscious decision to revert to a
simpler way of life. Richey wasn't to know until later on how the land these
people had claimed was coveted by the people in the cities for it's resources and
space.
In the mornings Richey would practice with Master Quinn. At first it was
simple exercises, and gradually, by the time he was 7 he was handling sword and
staff, sparring with the teens. Master Quinn introduced him to the other
instructors and soon Richey was in the teen classes, honing his martial skills and
keeping up with the best. His instructors were firm but full of praise, as he seemed
a prodigy. Richey, good though he was, did acquire his fair share of sore muscles
and bruises. But, it was worth it. The sense of accomplishment and control he
gained over his emotions as he grew was phenomenal.
He was content. He remembered when he was younger being so very
happy. He remembered the fun he had with the other youngsters in the enclave,
staging mock sword fights and chasing butterflies when their chores were done for
the day. One of his favorite activities was running with the lapuurs, large cat-like
creatures that were domesticated like dogs, only stronger and faster. He had an
affinity for animals that was unparalleled. The lapuurs would obey him when
ignoring even their masters.
He recalled getting in a fight with one of the older boys who was giving one
of the smaller kids a bad time. Richey tended to be protective of the littler ones.
Almost like a parent. Even if it meant getting in trouble, he felt this obligation to
protect the younger ones. But something had bothered him.
Richey knew his friends had parents. A mother and a father. Richey had
Master Lao and the other monks and nuns, but none seemed to be his parents in
the way others had parents. This confused him, even though Master Lao was like
a father to him. He knew that the old monk was not his real father.
Lao only once told him of the story of how he had come to live in the
community. Richey was 8 at the time. Lao felt this was young for the story and
said so. Richey disputed this.
"I need to know about my real parents," he insisted. "It is very important to
me that I know what happened to them."
Lao sighed and began the story.
"It was when I had traveled to Kalimpoor to meet with some newly arrived
monks from Lupus 5. I had journeyed into the city alone, as used to be my habit."
Lao paused, thinking.
"There was a lot of commotion. A lot of people in the city. More than
usual. And there were ships taking off and setting down at the port like bees to the
flowers. Very unusual. I was walking down a street I had not been down before.
The amount of people was overwhelming to me and I sought to reach the port
without being impeded."
Lao's face became a mask of pain.
"What I saw was beyond my understanding at the time. I heard a low moan
and walked behind a building to see what it was. It sounded like a woman in pain.
When I came upon her, laying in the alley behind a boarded up liquor store, I
almost lost my mind." Lao paused, swallowing the emotions, composing himself.
Richey could see the tears standing in the old man's eyes.
"There was a woman, who would have been exceptionally beautiful were it
not for her disfiguring wounds. Long, silky black hair, delicate facial features and
a strength I could see, even as she lay close to death. Her abdomen," again Lao
paused, trying to assess the impact of this on the child, "was a mass of blood."
Richey sat frozen. He couldn't seem to speak or comment on this. He only
knew he HAD to know about this.
"I went to her quickly and offered her a drink of water from my flask. She
coughed, drank a swallow and sighed. I think she was beyond pain at that point. I
ripped a piece of my robe, soaked it in water from my flask and cleaned the blood
off her face. It kept coming. That is when I realized that whomever had hurt her
had ripped out her eyes." The tears were slowly dripping down Lao's face now,
though his voice was steady. Richey was still frozen, numb with the tale he was
hearing.
"The woman raised her face to me and asked, in a very strange accent, very
softly, if her baby was dead. Quickly I looked around, searching for a baby,
realizing that this was why her abdomen was so bloody. They had cut the child
from her womb!" Richey had never seen Master Lao angry, but the way the old
man's face became a mask, Richey could tell this had angered him far more than
anything else that had ever happened in the old monk's life.
Richey went over to the bench where his master was sitting, and moved to
hold his hand. The monk smiled down at him, held his hand, and patted him on
the arm reassuringly.
"Richey, I searched all around the alleyway, looking for a baby. Finally,
behind some bushes I found a rusty old trash bin at the backside of the boarded up
liquor store. And there you were. You had your cord wrapped around your neck,
as if someone had tried to strangle you. You had turned blue. I snatched you up
into my arms, unwrapped the cord from your neck and blew into your lungs to get
the air into you." Now the old monk was smiling widely, savoring the memory.
"I took you to the woman and put you into her arms. She could feel you
moving and hear your whimpers, for you did not cry. She smiled and said to me
"Please, take care of my son." She handed you back to me and with a last sigh,
she died."
"Wow," said Richey. "I was lucky it was you!"
Lao laughed.
"Richey, I think it was lucky for both of us it was me. Whomever had killed
your mother was certainly trying to kill you as well. I hid you under my robes and
made for the rooms I had taken in the city. I was concerned lest anybody see me,
an old monk with a baby. Having been charged with your care, I did not want
your life to be at risk again. I managed to get you back to the modest hotel I had
rooms at and called the port. Luckily the monks had arrived and they had several
nuns with them. Nobody would think it odd for a nun to have a baby in her care."
"Who brought me back here then?" Richey asked, hungry for more details.
"Why, it was Liu-Tan of course. Why do you think she always saves the
best pastries for you?" The master was now laughing.
Richey sat, thinking for a moment. "Master?"
"Yes son?"
"Who do you think killed my mother?" Richey asked, worried.
"My son, I do not know. The only thing I do know is that around that time
there was a great exodus from a neighboring system. It was said at the time a great
army had come to that system and had tried to extinguish the race that lived there.
Whether or not this has anything to do with your mother's death, I do not know."
Richey never again asked about his real parents, but he never forgot the
story Lao had told him.
Richey's tutoring was taken over by Master Giduid when Richey was 9.
Giduid was very strict and insisted that Richey study philosophy and farming, as
well as his martial arts. Master Lao was too old to continue to tutor him, but was a
constant presence in his life.
Richey admitted to himself that he wasn't much of a philosopher and he
REALLY didn't like farming. But Master Giduid would not allow the boy to
apprentice to the blacksmith in town. Master Giduid felt that the boy's mind
needed quieting and that outside influences would be a distraction to him while
trying to cultivate the stillness required of monks.
By the time he was 11, Richey was almost as tall as the tallest monk,
topping out at a whopping 177 cm. His muscle mass far outweighed most of the
teens in his classes as well. And as his 11th year progressed he seemed to
increasingly be in trouble. Richey was more and more aggressive in his martial
arts, trying to work out the emotions he bottled up. They shifted him to the adult
classes as the teens would no longer spar with him.
Master Giduid saw these changes in Richey and was more and more harsh
with the boy, feeling that perhaps Lao Ridd'k had been too easy on him and that
was why now, Richey had become rebellious. Giduid never beat Richey, but he
did manage to find the most noxious of tasks for Richey to carry out as part of his
daily chores. Cleaning the pig sty was NOT one of Richey's favorite tasks.
But, Richey had to tell himself, Lao was old. Past 70. Richey knew the
monk was old, maybe worn out. But in his mind, he grieved the loss of Lao as his
mentor.
Liu-Tan continued to sneak the best pastries to Richey, especially when
Richey had just cleaned out the kitchen midden or had to scrub the poultry house
down. She tried to have something special for him after he had been to clean the
slaughter house. She was always very kind to Richey. Quite serene and poised at
all times, even when kneading the bread. Her face was old and lined now, but her
smile was as ready as ever.
"Richey," she said to him one afternoon, "Come sit and talk with me."
He was surprised, as Liu-Tan rarely spoke, usually letting her smile speak
for her. He sat on the bench against the cool stone of the kitchen wall with her and
she began to speak.
"Richey, I see that you were not meant to be a monk, although Master
Giduid wishes to deny this. I think that he believes that enough discipline will
bend you to his will." She paused, looking thoughtful.
"When I carried you here as a babe, to my new home, I felt that one day you
would accomplish great things. I feel, in part as if I am a kind of mother to you,
and it pains me to see this division and turbulence in you. I wish I could help you
gain peace in your soul." She looked at him warmly.
"If you need me know that I am here. What you do not know is the outside
world. If you decide you have a desire to know about it, come to me." Her eyes
twinkled. "When I was young, I was a shuttle pilot. I have flown shuttles in five
star systems."
Richey couldn't believe this. He was stunned! He couldn't imagine Liu-
Tan the baker piloting a shuttle.
"It's true, I assure you." He grin faded somewhat. " But just as I found it
necessary to retreat to the enclave and leave the world of technology, you might
some day find the need to enter the world I left. If you feel this need, come to me
and I will give you information you will need."
"Thank you Liu-Tan. I will remember that."
The conversation with Liu-Tan stuck with him and over the next few weeks
he began to think about it. He didn't actually want to leave the enclave, however
there were elders of the enclave that dealt with the regional government on behalf
of the people. It might be useful to know about the outside world. A little
anyway. So Richey began to visit the bakery in the very early morning, to talk to
Liu-Tan about the outside world before his classes began and while she was
preparing the morning loaves and sweetbreads.
Richey learned about such things as U.D.s for money, how distant the star
systems were from each other and some of the many races Liu-Tan had
encountered during her years piloting.
The idea of U.D.s was fascinating to him. He had a problem figuring out
how in the world you could regulate a Universal Denomination. The money of the
enclave was just that-money. Solid coins, each with a different value. He
understood the economics of it as well as the barter system, but had trouble
understanding how a monetary unit worth say 10 chickens on one planet would
still be worth 10 chickens on another. Liu-Tan smiled at this.
"Sometimes I do not know how things work either Richey, but this is one of
those things that does work. You have to take it on faith." She grinned at him.
Their talks went on for many months, touching on many subjects. Liu-Tan
taught Richey the fundamentals of plotting a course, how to engage a star drive
and much more. He was fascinated by these things in almost a clinical way. He
wanted to know about them, but wanted no part of them. He would rather spend
his time in the fields running with the lapuurs.
One morning, about a week before his 12th birthday, Liu-Tan's talk turned to
some of the many races she had encountered. She talked about the tall, willowy
Ja'Hadim, the short and almost troll-like Bentant (miners unparalleled), the Qui-
Qua with their humanoid features except for their gills and the water tanks they
carried on air breather ships. A few times she had even seen air elementals, which
was quite rare as they hardly ever left their home world.
"Can they fly?" Richey asked.
"I don't know Richey. I didn't get to see them up close. They kind of blow
about, even when standing still, like the wind is in them instead of on them. It's a
very unusual sight."
Richey thought about this. One would think if it was an air elemental, it
would fly, right?
"Anyway, once, and only once I got to see one of the rarest sights ever. One
that will never now be repeated."
Richey's curiosity was piqued.
"I saw a Furyan. An adult male Furyan. Richey, he was taller than you,
bigger, more muscled. And his eyes..... When he took off his shaded glasses his
eyes were silver!"
"Wow. I wonder why his eyes were silver?"
"I don't know child. Maybe it's just a trait of the race. Maybe only some
have it. I've seen yellow eyes, green eyes, purple eyes, and even your pretty black
eyes. But never before and never again will I see those silver eyes. I will
remember that for all of my days."
"But why will you never see silver eyes again? Surely you might encounter
somebody with silver eyes in the city when you accompany Master Lao to the port
to meet arriving monks?"
"No child. As far as I was able to discover, no other races have silver eyes.
Not one. And as far as anybody knows, the Furyan race was wiped out in a war
around the time when you were born."
Slowly, Richey said "Wow, the entire race?"
"As far as I know, yes. That is what is said. The entire race, extinct."
Richey thought about this. The possibility of the extinction of an entire
race. It was mind numbing. Impulsively he went around the kneading table and
hugged Liu-Tan.
"Richey, you haven't hugged me since you were 6!" She exclaimed.
"I don't want to think about losing you, or Master Lao. Ever." He stood up
to his height again, Liu-Tan being nearly 30 cm shorter than he. His face wasn't
showing emotion, but she could see it in his eyes.
"Don't worry dear, you won't loose me anytime soon."
Richey came back from the dreams of memories and observed the darkened
ship in which he was imprisoned. He again wondered why his mind was awake,
body mostly sleeping unlike the other transportees who were totally asleep. The
pain welled up again, and he quickly submerged it again. All those he cared for,
gone. Those he had tried to protect, gone. Rage overcame the grief and for a
moment, he felt the rest of his body waking. It quickly went numb again and his
mind began to wander.
The memories of that day welled up, unbidden to haunt him. How many
times had he replayed that last day in his head? How many times had he made
himself remember that terrible day? One day, he thought, he would force himself
to forget so he could be free of that pain.
He remembered that entire day, crystal clear. That morning he and Liu-Tan
had talked of the other races she had met on her journeys. He went to his first
class which was simple calisthenics, then to breakfast. He had met Lao Ridd'k in
the dining hall.
"So my son, how has the day begun for you?" The master asked.
"Wonderful Master. I had a long talk with Liu-Tan this morning and had
my first class. I feel good today." Richey smiled at the old monk.
"Wonderful. But, I need to tell you there will be an announcement this
morning, before the end of the breakfast hour. Please, stay here with me to hear
it."
Richey was puzzled. Usually announcements for the community were made
at the supper hour, when all would be present. Some skipped the breakfast hour to
have an intimate meal with friends at home. Richey finished eating and politely
waited on the old monk.
Master Giduid stood and went to the front of the hall.
"Excuse me all. I have an important announcement to make."
A hush fell over the hall.
"I have important news from the elders of the enclave. I dislike interrupting
your breakfast, however this cannot wait." Master Giduid surveyed the hall.
"As some of you already know, the planetary government has been
pressuring us for several years to sell our land here and move to the southern
continent. Their reasoning for this is that the mineral deposits on this land were
unknown to them when our predecessors bought the land and established this
enclave. We believe that this is part of the reason, but the other part of the reason,
the part they do not admit to is that they need the space for the expanding cities in
the area. Our fresh, unpolluted water is needed for the city dwellers. They have
polluted all their water and lands and now want ours. They have given an
ultimatum to the elders. Either we accept their offer or be moved forcibly."
A murmuring began in the hall. Richey could hear people saying NO, and
Unthinkable!
"Now, there will be a meeting tonight and everyone is invited to be there.
We will make our decision at that time."
Richey thought back, ironically, that the government has never intended to
give the enclave a chance to make a decision.
The rest of that day was chaos, none of the classes happening on time,
people missing. There was a general air of quiet hysteria among the enclave.
Richey found this very disturbing.
The meeting was scheduled for two hours after the supper hour. Notices
about this had been posted all over the enclave and Richey expected to accompany
Master Lao to the meeting. The old monk was having problems with his eyesight
and the light of a torch didn't provide enough light for him to see his way
anymore.
Right after dinner, they went back to their small home and changed into
their best. Master Lao and Richey sat and discussed the upcoming meeting after
they were cleaned up. It was while the Master had paused in a sentence that they
began to hear noises outside.
"I'll see what it is Master," said Richey going to the door.
When he looked out, he didn't not truly believe what he saw. In the
distance, beyond the edge of town, he saw a shuttle landing. Two had already
landed. People were yelling and running towards the shuttles.
"Master! There are shuttles landing!"
"Richey my son, this can mean nothing good. Help me change." The old
monk began taking off his robes and reaching for the suit of ceremonial armor
hung carefully on the wall.
"But Master! Do you expect to fight?" Richey was aghast. Master Lao was
now 75 and although in good condition for his age, he was no young man.
"Son, I do what I must. It is better to be prepared than not."
Richey helped him don the armor and got down the best of the swords
gracing the walls and helped the master sling them from his belt in the proper way.
He got down two daggers and attached those to Master Lao's belt as well.
"Richey, I was saving this for your 12th birthday, however I think now is the
time." The master walked to a closet and pulled out a package. He handed it to
the man sized boy he had cherished and loved as the son he had never had.
Slowly the boy took it and opened it. He marveled at what he saw. The
hauberk was exquisite as were the leather armored leggings. The chain mail was
obviously the work of the smith.
"Master." he exclaimed, "This is wonderful! It is obviously way too fine a
gift for me!"
Lao looked at the boy, his eyes full of the pride he felt for him.
"My son, it was to be your birthday present. I have made many fine jade
pieces which I traded to the smith. I wished to show you how proud I am of you,
how much I love you."
Impulsively, Richey hugged the old monk, and found he had tears in his
eyes. Quickly, he regained his composure and began to put the armor on. The
sounds of fighting were beginning to penetrate the house. Master Lao took down
two short swords from the wall and helped Richey buckle them on. He also
handed Richey two small boot daggers which Richey then tucked inside his boots.
"Richey, no matter what happens, know that I have loved you as my son
from the day I found you. Never forget this."
Master Lao then took down a large, ceremonial sword from the wall. He
held it for a moment and said, "This is the sword that was presented to me the day
I became a sword master. I present it now, to you Richard Ridd'k. Use it defense
of the helpless and downtrodden. Use it only when you must, use it only in
defense. Use it valiantly and never for selfish means."
Richey took the sword from his master, his father, with a solemn expression.
"I will father. I promise."
"Now let us go out and see what we can do to protect our friends."
Together they walked out the door.
Richey could see houses burning, people running. One woman was
gathering up children as she fled, leading them to the dining hall. Richey could
see monks and nuns trying to repel the invaders with pitchforks, spears and farm
implements as the soldiers cut them down with guns. He could feel a rage
building inside, a rage that threatened to boil over. He couldn't allow that. He
forced himself to hold the rage at bay, control it. He must not loose control of
himself.
Master Lao walked calmly into the fray. A man in a soldier's uniform
pulled his sword and challenged him. Master Lao had his sword out and the man's
hand detached so quickly Richey almost didn't see it. Lao Ridd'k might be old,
but he hadn't lost his edge. In moments, there was a soldier charging at Richey,
his sword out. Richey let his body take over and within moments his attacker lay
dead on the ground. He didn't really have time to think about this as suddenly
there was another. And then another.
It seemed like he spent an eternity, using sword and daggers, jumping,
rolling and thrusting. This was actually easier than practice, a part of his mind
was thinking. It was so much easier to let the rage flow from his mind to his body
and not have to worry about hurting somebody unintentionally. In this situation,
you were required to wound or kill your opponent. The ease of it almost
astonished him. It was as if he had been built for this.
The smell of blood and dust filled the air. The stench of fear permeated it
all. Richey had lost count of how many men he had killed, didn't even think about
it much. The only thing his mind focused on was the fight. Channeling that rage
so it flowed out of his mind and into his limbs. He noticed that somebody had
loosed the domesticated lapuurs and they were entering the fight. He saw one
soldier go down with a large female biting his face. Despite the pain and shock of
it all, Richey smiled. The lapuurs were his friends to the end.
Spinning around, Richey responded to a yell for help. It was Master Quinn,
fending off 3 attackers at once. But Master Lao beat him to it, and dispatched two
of them in a blink of an eye. Richey hoped that one day he would be as fast, as
good as that.
The fighting continued around him, yells and now and again groans of pain
penetrated his mind. He no longer felt his body at all. He had no idea if anyone
had even touched him with a blade. He continued to let his body move of it's own
accord, taking every bit of teaching that had been drilled into him and letting it
flow naturally out of him, into his purpose of defending the enclave. His friends.
The children. Liu-Tan and the other nuns. He had to protect them. They were
HIS responsibility.
One soldier grabbed a woman by the hair and yanked her out of her house.
While still holding onto her hair, he lit the thatch roof on fire. Richey immediately
went to her aide, with one sword slicing off the man's hand that was holding her
hair and with the other neatly skewering him through the chest. He put one foot
on the man's chest and pushed him off the blade. Helping the woman off the
ground, Richey said, "To the dining hall! Hurry!"
She sped off and suddenly Richey had more soldiers to deal with. Three
this time, but they handled their swords like the rankest novices. He had no
problem dispatching them in short order. But, he was beginning to feel the fatigue
of such constant battle. He saw Master Lao take down four more in short order
before more soldiers moved in to challenge him.
Hazily, he looked around and realized the soldiers had backed the line of
defenders up against the dining hall. Richey knew the children were inside. The
defenders had been almost overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and superior
firepower of the soldiers. Richey saw Master Lao off to his left and Master Quinn
off to the right. He did not see Master Giduid at all.
Suddenly, Master Quinn held up a white flag. He began waving it at the
soldiers and the other masters and the farmers still standing held their weapons
ready.
"We wish to parley. Our community's children and non-combatant women
are in the hall behind us. If you swear not to harm them, we will lay down our
weapons."
The mass of soldiers paused. Their commander came forward.
"We agree to this. As of right now, you are all under arrest. Throw down
your weapons." He announced.
All the defenders looked at each other and hesitantly lay down their
weapons. Richey had forgotten about his boot knives. The soldiers came forward
and began to handcuff the men. One looked at Richey's face.
"Sir, this one's just a kid for all his height."
"Very well, put him in the hall with the others."
The soldier marched Richey at gunpoint to the front doors of the hall. He
could see the handcuffed men were being arranged into a line and forced to kneel.
He had a very bad feeling about this.
The soldier shoved Richey into the hall and closed the door behind him.
Richey could hear the sounds of commands outside and felt a numbness of spirit.
He had killed people. Lots of people. But he had to defend those he cared about,
didn't he? That was the promise he had made Master Lao. He could hear the
crowd of women and children behind him, staying well back. He went to the
window to peek out.
The firelight from the burning houses was so bright that Richey could see
the scene all lit up like it was day. He saw the soldiers lining the men up,
kneeling, in a line, their hands cuffed behind them. He saw the soldiers line up in
a row in front of the men. Clinically his mind examined the scene, the soldiers
grinning, holding their weapons. He could clearly see Master Lao's face in the
light. On command, the soldiers raised their guns. As one they fired.
It was almost in slow motion that Richey saw Master Lao fall, face first into
the dirt. The cold rage exploded in Richey again and this time he could not, would
not force it back down.
Without thought he leapt through the window, shattering the glass as he did
so. The noise attracted the attention of the soldiers standing around.
"Look, it's that tall kid!" one of them shouted.
Richey ran at them with undisguised fury. He pulled his knives out of his
boots, one in each hand. He met them at a full run, his arms swinging.
As Richey slashed at the attackers, he heard the commander warn that they
should take the kid alive. Well, he thought to himself, it will cost you dearly for
what you have done here.
He dropped the first two without effort, graceful in his moves. The next two
were a bit tougher, they were ready for him. They had swords and fought back,
but Richey's training had prepared him for situations like this. Many times had he
met two or even three attackers on the sparring mat. He dropped them and went
on to the next. Suddenly, there were three, then four and all the sudden he lost
consciousness.
When he woke, he was in a slick white room with no windows. He was
secured to a bed and there was a bank of machinery behind him. Something was
beeping. His head hurt.
Suddenly, the events of the battle came back into his head and he felt a
surge of white hot rage. He strained at the restraints, breaking one before a man in
a white coat and a man in a soldier's uniform entered the room. The man in the
white coat helped the soldier hold him down and cuff his right arm down to the
bed.
Richey knew he was fatigued otherwise it would have taken more than just
the two of them to do this. The man in the white coat, apparently a doctor, spoke
in soft whispers to the man in uniform.
The man in the white coat spoke to Richey then.
"What is your name? He asked.
"My name? Why do you care? They killed my father, everyone!!! Why do
you care who I am?"
"We are trying to identify all the survivors of the attack on the soldiers.
What is your name?" The man in the white coat seemed to believe what he was
saying.
"The attack on the soldiers? MY GOD MAN! Don't you realize they came
in and slaughtered almost everyone in the enclave? They were shooting down
unarmed people! They handcuffed my father and shot him as he was helpless on
the ground!" Richey spat these words out, the rage building in him again. He
strained at his restraints.
The soldier murmured something to the man in the white coat. All Richey
heard of this was the word "delusional".
"I am not delusional! You came in and murdered helpless farmers and
monks! I only hope the children have been saved. What kind of animals are
you?" He spat this last at them with all the venom he could muster.
Both men seemed unaffected by this.
"Well," the man in the white coat said, "if you don't want to tell us who you
are we will go through the records we got from the enclave. Although I hate
dealing with those mounds of paper..." He sighed and left the room.
The soldier stood there, looking at Richey. Finally he smiled.
"The group of civilians from the enclave attacked a group of soldiers from a
shuttle that landed to talk to your government there. More soldiers had to be
called in to control the riot. We defended ourselves, that's all."
Aghast, Richey stared at the man. That wasn't what happened at all! There
were several shuttles already on the ground when the people from the enclave
were being shot. Farmers mostly at that point. Armed with farm implements. He
couldn't believe what the man was telling him.
"That's a lie and you know it," Richey said softly.
"No, that's the official word of what happened there. And you will be up on
murder charges once they release you from this hospital." The soldier smiled
again, cruelly.
"You liar!" Richey yelled at him. "You stinking dog of a liar! You are the
murderers! You killed my family, my friends, everything I cared about!"
The beeping of the machinery behind him increased and a woman, dressed
in white came into the room and did something to the machinery. Richey felt the
numbness spreading across his body and mind.
The soldier stood there calmly.
"You will be charged with murder. You will be locked up where nobody
will care what your story is. They will send you to an off-planet slam where you
can rot." With that the soldier turned and left the room, just as Richey was
slipping into unconsciousness.
They kept Richey sedated until the end of the trial. During the trial, he was
forced to sit and listen, semiconscious, to the lies told by the soldiers. How the
government had to step in to prevent an "uprising" among the people of the
enclave. In shackles in the courtroom, sedated, Richey refused to cry or show
emotion. His steely gaze focused on the government's witnesses, all soldiers, with
hatred gleaming in his eyes. Shortly after the trial began, they had put a bit-gag in
his mouth as he began shouting out whenever they began their lies, despite the
sedatives in his body.
Richey was also never given a chance to testify. He was bluntly told by the
judge that since he was a minor, the records showing him to be 12 years old, that
he was not allowed to speak for himself. He had to sit back and watch himself be
convicted of murder. Multiple murders. While the government painted
themselves as angels. Stole the people's land. His people's land. Their lives.
After the sentence came down, the sentence meaning he would go to a
juvenile slam until he reached his 18th birthday, he was allowed to speak. He had
been informed this would happen and he had formulated his thoughts carefully.
"Know this. You who sit here and condemn me. I, Richard Ridd'k, son to
Lao Ridd'k, will never forgive what you have done here today. You took our
land, you butchered my people and you have condemned me to hell. In time, I
hope to forget the details of the slaughter I was forced to try to prevent. But I will
never forgive this. Remember who's hands the blood really stains. This farce of a
police action against my people, against all that I loved. This joke of a trial. I am
sentenced for murder in self-defense, and in defense of the people I cared about. I
saw horrors that will be imprinted on my soul forever. And maybe, just maybe,
one day I will be back to seek justice."
The courtroom erupted into a spontaneous roar as he sat down to wait his
fate. Apparently not all the people there witnessing this agreed with the court's
sentence. Maybe there were some honorable and noble people still left on this
world.
As they took him to the transport that would take him to the shuttle, Richey
could see the crowds outside. He could see and hear people yelling at the soldiers.
The police, in their riot gear, were holding the crowd back. He smiled, despite his
situation. Maybe he wouldn't ever need to come back. Maybe the people would
become sick of tyranny and injustice and rise against the government on their own.
Whatever happened, Richey knew it would be hard to put all this behind him. He
knew it would be difficult to forget. And the worst part of the loss was that he
could never, ever go home.
Richey's mind returned to the present. The dim interior of the transport
ship. The smell of the other transportees. He didn't know what slam had in store
for him, but he felt he was ready. After all, could it be worse than what he just
went through?