The Wild Ba’Neesh Chapter Fifty-Eight ©2019 Fay Thompson All Rights Reserved

Mick paused in front of the sliver-like opening to a cave. Two DireSec operatives were overtly guarding the entrance though it remained unclear from whom or whether to prevent those inside from leaving. The cave entrance filled with the uniformed shape of the national military man, clearly unhappy with his current accommodations. He glared at Mick and his entourage. “This is unacceptable. I demand we immediately return to proper quarters.”

Elias glanced at Mick and then said, “We are here to talk to the Huxley’s in private. Would you invite everyone but the Huxley’s to join us outside here?”

“Did you hear me?” The man stepped closer looking from the tallest, Rojer, to the shortest, Sofia.

“Yes, Sir.” Rojer decided to answer for Mick. “However, it is necessary to have a short conversation to determine their welfare before we address your issues. Is there some reason we cannot meet with the Huxleys?”

Several minutes were wasted with arguments from both nationals and even from Thorne, who was still hosting the two nationals. Eventually, it became clear that Mick’s group would enter and as necessary escort everyone else out. All of this upset the Huxleys who became involved in this round discussion until Sofia lifted one of her hands and said, “Now! Assist Mick!”

Mick, feeling increasingly uncomfortable noted that he thought she was speaking true Speech in English. He looked down at her, wanting to ask her how she’d learned it so fast. Elias answered his unasked question, “the youngers have all been practicing those words on every Soek they encountered today, didn’t you know?”

The nationals, Thorne and two DireSec operatives exited the cave and Thorne made a sweeping gesture inviting Mick’s group inside. They entered and immediately the elder Huxley strode toward them saying, “This is intolerable.”

Mick raised his right index finger to his mouth in the universal symbol for silence. He shook his head. Elias was already running a scan of the narrow, claustrophobic cave where two areas had been established, an outer section for the nationals and Thorne and an inner area for the Huxleys, trapped.

All of them watched Elias locate and destroy a number of listening devices. They heard more noises from the cave entry and turned to welcome Master Jeffrey inside. He glanced around and then at Elias who was positioning a distortion field generator at the entrance. “We are clear, then?” Jeffrey asked as the soft hum of the field engaged.

“We are clear.” Elias said, putting his diagnostic equipment back in his small carry sack. He pulled out two other devices and set them on a rock. Clearly DireSec had re-stocked him with all of his spy gear.

Rojer stepped over to face the elder Huxley. “Mick’s ability to communicate is heavily limited at this point. I am here to clarify specific words if you cannot understand him. Sofia is here to interpret as his primary language at the moment is Neesh, Elias has an onboard German translator to translate from her German to English. Master Jeffrey is a Healer, the equivalent of a medical doctor. Time is short. Mick apologizes for this pressure but there is no alternative.”

“That’s not a costume then?” Mick’s mother said, pointing at Mick.

“No, Ma’am.” Rojer continued, relaxing into his role. “Mick, Elias and Jeffrey are the male version of the Homo Soekenisis hominid, Sofia is an immature female, a younger, called a Ba’Neesh. Mick has entered a rapid mutation process which is why his appearance is altering and his speech is affected.”

“Mick?” His mother stepped over to face her foster son. He stood there allowing the extreme close-up of her stare, the uncertain touch of her hand on the bumps on his face, the fur on his body.

“So, you are the terrorist?” Mick’s foster father said, pulling her back a step, protective.

“Yes.” Mick answered for himself, allowing the chirps and whistles to do what they may. “I am a Soek.” He turned back to his mother and reached out one of his claws toward her. She withdrew slightly. He sighed. “You were great mother.” He said, articulating each word as carefully as he could.

She snuffled and then burst into tears. He turned to his foster father. “I ruin your life. Extreme danger. The enemy will try to use you to force me in ways I cannot allow. If I do nothing, eventually I will be forced to kill you. Understand?”

Elias translated Sofia’s careful German to make sure the elder Huxley understood.

The man drew Mick’s mother closer. “What are you going to do? We are prisoners here.”

“New life.” Mick said. He gestured to Elias to explain from an earlier conversation where they planned this meeting.

“First, Master Jeffrey will cut out your locators. Then collectively we will destroy your molcoms so you cannot be traced. We will do this at the end as you will experience a painful header once we do this. You will put on these avatar security devices and your appearance will alter. We will walk you out of here and you will be taken to transport. Mick will not know where you go. You will be shown how to create new lives, new identities. Mick believes he will not see you again until the danger is ended.”

“What danger?” The senior Huxley demanded, “All of this seems utterly bizarre.”

“You will be shown footage explaining the danger within a day or two. You must accept that truth, for now, Mick is abducting you against your will until you properly understand it is the only way he can try to save your lives.” Rojer rather liked this part.

“When is this danger supposed to be ended?” The blustering Huxley continued, glaring at the crude scalpel Master Jeffrey had removed from his kit.

“There is no approximated end date.” Elias said.

Jeffrey injected the elder Huxley with a sedative and then apologized as the man half fell to a seated position. He knew the foster mother was already under sedation so he didn’t want her unconscious. He used a direct contact numbing agent over the area on the man’s shoulder where one of Elias’ devices indicated the presence of a locator. The man watched as his arm was expertly cut and the locator fell to the ground.

A quick-heal spray sterilized and sealed the bleeding wound, forming a lumpy faux scab. Jeffrey handed the man a sterile wipe and turned to Mick’s mother. She was holding onto one of Mick’s claws and staring at him in the face. “You are really in there, Mick?” She asked again.

He nodded.

“I love you.” She said.

“Mother.” He answered, unable to articulate the words back to her. In truth, the emotions he was feeling were mostly the desire to escape this experience. He forced himself to step forward to awkwardly embrace her. He felt her pull herself backward when she touched his back growth, horror entering her expression.

He swallowed and looked away, it was the kind thing to do. Sofia reached out to take the claw his mother now rejected.

It was quick work to cut out her locator and apply the seal over the wound.

Mick stepped back several steps. Jeffrey had assured him he could manage the Vrill necessary to fry the human’s molcoms. There was little to see, only the ripple of Vrill that passed through the others warned that the event was finished. The two humans sagged, their hands cupping their faces. Jeffrey applied the pain killer and Elias positioned the avatar devices. He showed the elder Huxley how they operated and told him that the avatar would project the illusion they were DireSec operatives. There were two DireSec operatives who would enter when Mick left, they would exchange places and simply follow Mick’s group out. The elder Huxley nodded, then he turned to Mick.

“I don’t understand any of this Mick.” He said, “Not really. You have been a crap foster son from day one and I never really liked you. Taking you in was a mistake I will forever regret.”

Mick nodded.

“I don’t care to see you again.” He said, “You understand. You stay away from us, you have brought us only misery and injury. Just stay away.”

Mick nodded again, slightly relieved and somewhat pained by the confirmation of his entire life’s guesswork. He had always felt senior Huxley’s antipathy from early on. Still, it hurt.

His mother wouldn’t look at him, she just clung to his foster father’s arm as if he alone were safe and maybe that was true too.

Mick nodded at Elias and inclined his head toward the door. They exited leaving Elias last while two DireSec agents crossed in to hand Elias the field generator, hastily removed. In seconds the switch was made and the two Huxley’s followed Elias out the cave entrance, appearing to be the two DireSec operatives.

Mick hadn’t paused to debrief the waiting Thorne or the nationals, he was nearly trotting with Sofia into the welcome shadows of the woods.

All of them knew that the masquerading DireSec agents would knock out the nationals with sleeping gas almost immediately while the Huxleys were already being led toward a cloaked floater a mile or so from the cave entrance. It was over.

Mick gasped out a honking sound, shocked that it reminded him of the grief sound he’d made for Edda. He felt a delayed wash of intense pain flow through him forcing him to bend over and try not to hurl until Sofia said, “The Lamentation nears. We run now Fuck Mick.” He allowed his grief to flow into Steffi and the others, the too many others, all dead because of him, his choices.

Her soft fingers curled around his hard ones and she tugged, pulling him into the woods, into the quickness of her feet near soundless on the forest debris. His own talons were clumsy in comparison, he let her lead, let her define the path, the speed, the impetus toward the celebration of death. He gave himself to the ritual, feeling his head arch back and an enormous wailing bellow emit from his constrained throat. It was as if he were blowing out the past along with his language. He experienced a certainty that for now, he would speak English no more. There was a relief to this loss, a just punishment perhaps.

They arrived at a clearing near the base of the hollow escarpment with its many small cave openings. The area was full of Ba’Neesh and Soek.

Sofia led him to the first of the three large tubs, already boiling with body parts drifting. He took his turn at the stirring stick before handing it to Rojer whose facial expression was gruesome horror mixed with a weird pleasure.

He passed it off to the shocked Jeffrey, the equally shocked and horrified Elias and finally to Thorne who looked as if to drop the stick at first and then pausing to stir some more, his face furrowed and then he too tilted back his head to emit a shattering cry. A lamentation for his damaged youngest son, long dead along with his cherished human mother.

Karl was the first of the Tule Soc Soek to step forward followed by the rest of Mick’s guards. They were followed one-by-one by the remaining Soek in whatever random order drew them forward. Mick climbed to a vantage point and sat watching, noting the bodies of the dead Soek off to one side, per his instructions.

He whispered to Sofia who called out in Neesh and some of the Ba’Neesh rose from their positions near the pots to stare at the dead Soek and then up toward Mick. He gestured and they teamed up to carry the Soek up the escarpment, to the rock spears. Once begun, this process took on its own ritual aspect as he directed them to load the top of the nearby spears with the bodies. Soon enough all of the dead lay facing the stars, like an offering.

Aapisowoohta stepped over toward him, “How do we do this, Mick?” She asked in Neesh.

He was staring upward as the odor of freshly cooked Ba’Neesh brought drool to his mouth. They must hurry.

“Those with Beloved come forward.” He answered. “We reduce the Soek to ash. Hot as we can. I can help.” He replied, his mind seeing an older scene with metal framework, bodies suspended in the air, the better to burn cleanly.

Sofia led him upward as other Ba’Neesh selected their rocky spears and ascended. The scent of the boiling intensified, as if nature were blowing the odor intentionally toward them.

Mick and the others didn’t see the Citadel Soek, climbing to see what would be done. They were too tightly focused.

Mick stood over the three bodies on his spear. “You ready, Edda?” He said aloud in Neesh.

Sofia laughed and then reached up to grasp at the growth coming from Mick’s back. Elias was first to join in, then the reluctant Rojer and finally Karl, towering over all of them with Freya watching avidly from his shoulders.

They made a laser but in Mick’s mind it was blue and when the other’s saw his, they went to blue as well and the bodies of the Soek were incinerated, reducing to ash in less than a minute. Up came the wind to spin the ash in all directions, coating all of them in the process to loud complaints from Rojer. And, as quickly as it had started, the Soek were given back to the Ba’Neesh, which is what Sofia told Mick she had felt.

Mick wasn’t certain he’d felt anything but a now gritty mouth. He turned back to the pots, knowing it was time to eat. He found his altering body was much better at climbing than his old one had been.

He returned to the triad of pots and received the stick. Aenor approached with her knife. “No time to wait, again.” She said, a reprimand in her tone. Sofia translated and the words passed in German to the shocked Soek watching this in sort of suspended horror.

She leaned in to cut off a slice of Steffi’s arm.

Mick snatched it and tilted his head back to receive the offering. He could hear the gasps of shock and horror and then he felt the bliss. He sang out to Steffi, thanking her, celebrating with her.

The Citadel Soek floundered in the challenges of their own reactions until Anya pulled Mael forward, Perisee pulled Brad and other Citadel Ba’Neesh dragged the reluctant ones forward. They passed through the initiation into the bliss of that single tiny bite, all that each were allowed. Then the tiny bits flowed out with some of the Army Soek only getting a lick. It was enough. The euphoria was contagious. Soon the Ba’Neesh were dancing and hooting and the celebration continued until every bone was removed, cleaned and ready to pack.

Mick showed them how this was done and soon, three more Beloved were raised to the shoulders of those Ba’Neesh chosen to carry them. The offal was scattered off the spears and the pots upended, abandoned.

Like a drunken party they ascended to the spears, to stare at a night sky brilliant with stars.

Sofia had chosen to climb onto Mick’s lap, leaning back nearly asleep but not quite.

The Citadel Soek took places near Mick and all but one individual rocked in a current of energy that flowed between everyone. That lone Soek was running back toward the town, his mind awash in the terror of what he’d witnessed. He had to escape, that lone thought consumed him.