Piccolo sat and stared at the donkey. The night had gone by without event. The rice tasted pretty good, but Subash ate most of it in the first five minutes of the night. He eased himself onto a bale of hay and looked to the stars. The moon wasn't out, so each star was visible, glowing brightly or faintly in the night. They formed patterns. Some of the stars he could imagine as being connected to each other by lines, lines of zero height or width, but visibility – tangibility? – just as obvious as the leaves and branches framing the sky. But more apparent were the density gradients in the stars. Each cluster of stars was surrounded by a shade lighter sky in the night blackness. The larger and denser the cluster, the lighter the sky. The largest cluster, a huge belt in the night, glowed with a color that was neither a shade of black nor of white. Gray? But it was not gray. It was no color Piccolo could imagine. Although the answer literally stared him in the face, it was beyond his capacity to think of the answer.
Piccolo had tried to decipher the color of that belt for years, yet it still eluded him. He slipped into a trance as he continued his quest for knowledge, and did not come back until after a sudden jolt ran through the cart.
It was still night time; there was no light aside from the stars. Although Piccolo could barely make out any distinct figure, he noticed Subash get out of the cart. He walked to a set of four posts with bells standing on them and rang: first the far right, then the center-left, then the far left, then the center-right. Each one made a distinct sound as it was rung. Subash got back on the cart, and they were off.
"What was that all about?" Piccolo asked.
"That was the passcode to get in," Subash said, "It tells the guards to expect us instead of shooting until we're dead."
"How many times you think that's happened?" Piccolo said.
Subash's face twisted for a moment and then settled. "I have no idea," he said. "Maybe I'll ask Mitesh when we get to his place. It should take 10-15 minutes to get up there, give or take."
Five minutes later, the cart turned into a small clearing, where Subash tied and hobbled his donkey. "Alright, Piccolo. From here there's a short hike to Mitesh's place," he said. He proceeded to stuff some sacks into a tall wicker basket and hand it to Piccolo. "Take this basket with you." Subash stuffed the hay and some other sacks into two more baskets. He then put the two baskets on a pole on his shoulders.
Piccolo asked Subash, "So, what's in these baskets?"
Subash responded, "Food." He paused, "I figure he'll need it."
"Alright," Piccolo said. Why would he take all of this food and hay just as a gift? There has to be a reason.
The path they were taking was between two ridges about a kilometer apart. Two or three kilometers deep, another ridge cut off the valley in between them. Subash and Piccolo walked up the slope, Piccolo being sure to stay behind Subash. After he was sure that Subash wasn't looking back, Piccolo slowed his walking until he was ten meters behind Subash. He carefully placed the basket on the ground. As it touched, the basket was tilted by a pebble and quietly squeaked. Piccolo glanced ahead, but Subash was still walking. He opened the top sack to find a pile of lychee fruit. So he is bringing food. But this still doesn't answer why. He opened a sack as tall as the basket itself. In that basket were three muskets and several sacks. Sticking his finger into a sack, he found it held a black powder. He closed the sack and examined Subash, now a couple dozen meters ahead of him. Did he really not notice? Piccolo sped up his pace, and soon he was only a few meters behind Subash.
A few minutes later, a dark silhouette of a door appeared before them. Subash put his baskets down, knocked four times, paused, and then knocked five more times. The door creaked open, revealing the massive form of a minotaur. A lantern inside illuminated the ox-man's black fur with gray strands interspersed, his yellowed horns, and a saffron robe draped on his body. His body was a head taller than Piccolo's, and his nose was slit from his nostrils to the tip of his snout.
The minotaur exclaimed, "Subash! You're early. Have you found something important?"
Subash said, "Well, yes Mitesh, but I need to talk to you abou…"
Piccolo asked, "That's Mitesh?" He looks so much different from what I thought he would.
"So, is this guy what you wanted to talk to me about? What's your name, guy?" Mitesh asked.
"I'm Piccolo," Piccolo said.
Subash stood on his toes to whisper something into Mitesh's ear, and his face changed into a grimace with a hint of rage.
"Alright, we'll take care of it in the morning," he sighed angrily. "But what about you, Subash? What are you doing here so…"
Subash whispered into Mitesh's ear again, and his face morphed understandingly.
"As I was saying, what are you doing here?" Mitesh asked before pausing. "I haven't seen you in so long."
Subash said, "I found Piccolo at Mangti village. I'm on the panchayat there as Krishan. They caught him drinking from a stream outside the village, and one of his captors thought he was a demon. They brought him to the panchayat. The other four wanted to sell him to the Company, so I told them they stopped the bounties."
"So you lied," Mitesh said disappointedly.
"It was the only way," said Subash.
"Very well," Mitesh said, "I guess it didn't hurt anyone. Changing the subject. Piccolo! Will you join me on our quest?"
"What?" asked Piccolo.
Mitesh raptly repeated, "Our quest! To save the People, to expel the corruption, to fulfill destiny! Will you join us, guy?"
Piccolo said, "What quest?"
Mitesh arched an eyebrow at Subash. "The quest is to return Akhand Bharat to its old purity by expelling the invaders! To restore justice by overthrowing their collaborators! And to prevent further disturbance by strengthening the righteous!" he loudly listed.
Piccolo grunted.
"Are you mocking me?" Mitesh shouted.
He's mad. If I just give in, he won't trust me, and he'll think I'm scared. "What's in it for me?" asked Piccolo.
"Participation in the quest is its own reward," Mitesh said harshly, "but we offer food and sanctuary from the authorities."
Piccolo thought through his options. If I say no, things will go the way they went before. Searching for water and food on my own, with no sense of where to go. If I heard right, people I don't even know will try to capture and sell me. Piccolo raised his head. Really, I decided this yesterday. "Yes, I will join," he said.
Mitesh said, "Alright. Unfortunately, you'll have to sleep in the stable. Ahmed-Sidi will take you there."
As if on cue, a short, lean, black-skinned man stepped out of a shadow. He cracked a gleaming white smile and tapped Piccolo, then led him out the door.
Piccolo heard a knock on the stall door. Finally, he thought. The stable was pitch-black and smelled of shit. It was warm, but that still didn't change the fact that it was one of the worst places he had ever used for shelter. Was this really the worst, though? Hiding under the bush sucked, but I wasn't there very long. I'll think about it later. He had his head buried in the fresh hay that Ahmed had dumped in there with him. He stood up, turned around, and saw Mitesh standing there.
"Sorry about dumping you in here," he said. "I was just a… But don't worry! We'll be getting a better place for you to sleep at night."
"I don't sleep," Piccolo said. Just a what?
"Well, that makes things easier," Mitesh said. The top half of his nose jiggled as he cleared his throat. "Anyway, I've got clothes for you outside the stables. You'll need them if you don't want to smell like shit. We're all meeting in ten minutes in the big field." They walked out a side door into a tiny patch of grass with a path leading around the stables. "I thought you might want privacy. See you in ten!"
Piccolo put on his clothes – a pair of gray trousers and an overly large and itchy white shirt – and took a look at his surroundings. In front of him, a ridge slumped down against the back of the stables. He walked down a brick pathway to the front and took another look. The entire camp was nestled in a dip between the rise he had hiked over and three ridges. The back ridge had a cut in the center, where a small stream ran into a large river on the other side. There were three ramshackle houses in the front, on the inward slope of the rise. Alongside them were at least a dozen tents and several gardens.
All of the ridges and the rise were heavily forested, and the forest continued into the dip. Small huts were scattered throughout the forest. However, most of the middle was covered by three large clearings, of which the front one was largest. That must be the big field. Piccolo noticed strange patterns in the largest clearing, like hastily-destroyed terraces. Looking back to the front, he noticed that there was a substantial crowd in the middle of the tent area. Looking more closely, the green man realized they were dispersing to the big field. Shit! This wasn't the time to sightsee. Piccolo scurried down the left slope of the dip, meeting the tail of the line of people midway. He slowed to a walk as he got closer.
"Oh, hello," the man at the back said to Piccolo. He was lean, swarthy, curly-haired, and wore a white sleeveless tunic, trousers, and brown fingerless gloves. "I… don't think I know you. How long have you been here?"
"I got here last night," Piccolo said.
"Oh, got it," the man with gloves said, "I got here a week ago, like most of the others here. My name's Prakash."
"Alright." Piccolo said. He followed the crowd into the the big clearing, where they formed ranks on every other terrace. Piccolo tapped Prakash's shoulder.
"Hm? Oh, I'll show you where to stand during assembly. Just follow me," he said.
Piccolo followed Prakash onto one of the middle terraces. All those behind him were empty; he estimated that that was about three-quarters of the field. Those to the front, however, were occupied by about thirty men and other things.
"Go behind Ishar. Yes, the one with the horns."
Piccolo walked behind Ishar, placing himself five meters from Prakash. In all the terraces in front of him, the people were spaced the same way. Ishar, the one in front of him, was clearly some sort of goat-man. There was another goat-man in the crowd. There were eight animal-humans in the crow; besides the two goat-men, there was a lion-man, a rhinoceros-man, another minotaur (although this one was much shorter than Mitesh), a bear, a small deer-man, and, in the front, a foxlike creature about a meter tall. The other 21 were all humans.
At the very front of the field, Mitesh climbed a large rock and pulled a small piece of paper from his robe. "Good morning, everybody!" he yelled, "We have some news!" He glanced down at the paper. "We got some more supplies last night – and we're still due for another shipment at the end of the month – so double rations today."
Everyone in the audience cheered at that, so Piccolo joined in.
Mitesh continued, "And now some bad news. Last week… Manik and Biswajit were captured and executed in Manipur last week. I… I'd like a moment of silence." He looked down for a minute. Most of the audience wasn't very affected by those words, but a few in the front row bowed their heads in sorrow.
"And for the last bit of news, we have a new teammate. Subash rescued Piccolo from some collaborators that intended to sell him to the Company. He has agreed to join us, so welcome Piccolo! He's hard to miss, his entire body is green! He will be joining Squadron 3. Goodbye, and if Squadron 4 skips latrine duty again, they'll miss out on the double rations!" Mitesh pretended to chuckle and jumped down from the rock.
Piccolo walked to Prakash and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, what is squadron 3?" he asked.
Prakash said, "This camp is divided up into six five-man squadrons. Squadron 3 only had four men until you got here, so you've been assigned to that group. The group is me," he pointed to himself, "Abu Bakr," he pointed to a lanky, relatively light-skinned man with a long, scraggly beard, "Lal," he pointed to the rhinoceros-man, "and Ram," he pointed to a short man with a large mustache.
Abu Bakr clapped Piccolo on the back and took a deep breath. "So, we got the new guy? Let me introduce myself. I am Abu Bakr, and I am the leader of squadron 3. You might think, 'Oh, I am new, I don't know anything.'" He puffed out his chest triumphantly. "Well, that doesn't matter to us. While I have been working with Mitesh for two years, no one else has been here for more than a month," he said. He scratched his bearded chin and continued, "Everyone else is still but a novice in using their ki."
"What does that mean?" Piccolo asked.
Abu Bakr said, "Ki is your life force. When you are trained in using it, you will be able to protect yourself from blows, augment your strength, and repair your body if needed. It was discovered a few generations ago, and spread throughout the world's armies. Mitesh learned ki in the Maratha army, and he wants all of his men to know how to use it. He taught me when I joined, and it has saved my life countless times. And now, I will teach you."
Piccolo's mind raced. Was this what Subash did on the way here? If so, this will be very useful. "Let's start."
All five members of the squadron were sitting cross-legged on the ground. Abu Bakr got up and paced behind the other four. "Now, I want you to think about nothing but your left shoulder. Don't think about anything else but your left shoulder. It's important that left shoulder should be left shoulder."
Piccolo thought about his left shoulder.
A few minutes passed. Abu Bakr said, "Now, I want you to imagine that it is hot. Feel everything, by which I mean your left shoulder, be hot. After all, your left shoulder is hot, so it's perfectly normal for your left shoulder to be and feel hot. Left shoulder be hot."
Piccolo put some energy into his left shoulder. This is too easy. Would this really protect me from bullets?
Ten seconds passed, and Abu Bakr touched Lal's shoulder. "Good. The temperature is fluctuating, but you're definitely doing it." He touched Ram's shoulder, and nodded approvingly. Then, he put his hand on Piccolo. "Alright… this is odd."
"What is it?" Piccolo asked.
Abu Bakr said, "Your temperature is hot and consistent; that's very unusual. Usually, new people have a hard time getting any heat at all."
"Well, I'm doing it, aren't I?" Piccolo said.
"Have you ever… done this before?"
"I've been doing it years."
"Huh," said Abu Bakr. He touched Prakash's shoulder. "Prakash, you're not doing any- Okay, there it is. Well, I can't believe it. Except for Lal, everybody here is ready to start learning how to seriously use ki. We'll start tomorrow. I'll be helping Lal catch up, so you're in charge, Prakash. Work on martial arts until we get back."
Piccolo felt overwhelming anticipation. Soon, the bullshit will be over. Once I learn how to use ki, no one will be able to make me do anything. You've got a lot of work to do, Piccolo, but it'll all be worth it. You'll see.