Tokus Numas (19 page)

There were nods all around, and then the brothers dispersed into different directions. There was one more thing Petro needed to say. “Jon, where are you going to build the shelter?”

Jon pointed to his right, over by some boulders.

“OK, let’s all meet there when we are done.”

The young men moved out to start their day, to learn from their experience, and to find out what it meant to be brothers.

Oh, White Sea, oh, White Sea, come near me, for I hear your song and see your need; oh, White Sea, oh, White Sea, come near me, as I dream of a day when, out in a storm in your waters, I will find calm; and home there I should go and be no more.

—From
Collection of Tales at Sea
, by the boatmen of White Sea

P
etro and Kad sat in a room, just the two of them, at a pair of old desks made of mahogany and steel. Petro shifted his backside to get more comfortable, but it wasn’t working. Kad seemed right at home, as though the hard chair was more a comforter than a solid surface pressing on his flesh.

Master Domato—tall, thin, eyes that curved down, and a balding head that only added to his distinct look—was speaking.

“Where to begin?” Master Domato said, standing in front of Kad and Petro. “Oh, I know. Let’s start with the electron. Yes, that’s it.” He went up to the chalkboard, drew out a circle, and labeled it “electron.” “Electrons are what make long-distance communications possible, our computing devices possible, even our own brains possible; for without the electron, there would be nothing.”

Petro looked over at Kad and sort of gave him the expression that he didn’t want to be there.

“Excuse me—Petro, is it?” Master Domato said. He came closer to him.

“Yes, that’s correct, Master Domato,” Petro said and sat up straight.

Master Domato placed a marble on his desk, and it rolled around, gradually made its way off the table, and bounced on the floor.

“Did you see that?” Master Domato said.

Petro nodded.

“Good. The electron also seeks the path of least resistance, moving through conductors such as water, metal, even flesh. Our own bodies have created a system inside to carry electrons in order to signal what the body must do. Close the hand”—Master Domato closed his hand—“a signal comes from the mind, sent over the nervous system, and the hand closes.”

Master Domato smacked Petro’s hand. “And for pain, it sends the signal back up to the brain.”

Master Domato walked away, and Petro rubbed his hand. He watched to see what the older man would do and wondered if this truly was the place he belonged. This class was highly technical and made his head hurt more than his hand did now.

“We talk of water, of air, of the necessities of life to sustain life, but we neglect to speak about the electron. We take it for granted, use it for our own means, and just don’t see the connection at all. However, without a structure, the electron does nothing but move from place to place with no purpose, no meaning for its existence.”

Kad raised an eyebrow and looked at Petro cross-eyed. Petro stifled a chuckle.

Master Domato’s back was to them. He drew on the board once more. “The electron travels near the speed of light at three hundred million meters per second. Which means we can communicate rapidly across great distances if we give the electron structure and direct its course of motion.” Master Domato drew an image shaped in a half circle, with short, squiggly lines shooting out in different directions.

“This represents waves of energy directed outward from an antenna. The purpose of the antennae is to direct energy and to modulate the information in such a way as to ensure that when it reaches the other end, the receiver can decipher the information received,” he said.

Petro’s eyes glazed over. There was no way he was going to get this; it didn’t make any kind of sense to him at all. He raised his hand. “Master Domato,” he said.

Master Domato turned around and faced the two of them. He had an inquisitive look as he waited for Petro to speak.

“I’m not sure I am ready for this sort of class,” Petro said.

Master Domato came over to Petro and stood in front of his desk. “Stand up,” he said.

Petro stood. He felt uncomfortable, not knowing what Master Domato was about to do. He hoped he wasn’t going to demonstrate how the hand works again. He glanced over to Kad, who looked equally uncomfortable.

“Sit down,” Master Domato said.

Petro sat down.

“You see. You understood me and did as I asked you to do,” Master Domato said and walked back over to the chalkboard.

Petro exchanged a confused looked with Kad. Kad just shrugged and leaned forward to write something down in his notebook.

“Master Domato, I’m not sure what you mean. Yes, I understood you, but I have failed to understand the meaning behind it,” Petro said and let out a sigh.

The old instructor played with the chalk in his hand, thinking of what to say. “I gave you instruction, and you complied. When you were young and did not know the words to use when speaking with your mother or father, you could not have possibly done what they might have asked you to do. Just as now you understood me—but let’s pretend you did not, as if you had not yet developed the understanding of the words I used. Stand up and sit down. No matter how many times I might repeat those words, you would not understand me, because you had not yet developed the understanding for the sounds formed. Words are sounds and hold meaning, just as the words I’ve spoken to you just now. What I’m talking about here on the board, I know you don’t understand. I know you have not yet developed the vocabulary or the understanding to converse with me on this topic. I know this, yet I still use these sounds, these words to convey what I mean. Just as a mother and father do with their child. You did not know what ‘stop’ or ‘don’t touch’ meant at one time in your life, and your mother probably didn’t use different sounds to convey her meaning. She used the words ‘stop’ and ‘don’t touch,’ so you in turn would learn them over time,” he said.

Petro understood what Master Domato was saying, and he relaxed. A thought came into his mind. Was seeing the future like this? Was it a matter of learning how to command it? Like his hand—he closed his hand, opened it, and then raised it.

“Master Domato,” Petro said and hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Umm…is there a way to use electrons to…umm…see the future?” Petro asked. Immediately he felt like an idiot for saying it. He pulled his hand down.

“You mean predictive computations?”

Petro wasn’t sure what that meant, and he wasn’t about to ask, either.

“We have computers, devices, microprocessors that are being programmed to do predictive calculations, but we are far from being able to see into the future. We can determine the actions of a person, in some instances, but many we cannot—too many variables. We are able to determine the longevity of a bridge based on its structure, material, weather conditions, and usage. There we’ve had better success to see how long something can last under certain conditions, assuming those conditions are constant and we give it a wide variance so as not to underestimate the length time it can be in use. Still more to go in that area,” Master Domato said and gathered his notebooks.

“So, if there are no more questions, let’s end for today. I want you to read the first two chapters in your books and capture every word you don’t understand. Then I want you to write out the meaning of those words you don’t understand, which describe the terms you don’t understand. That will be all,” the old instructor said. He placed the chalk down and left the room without saying another word.

“I have no clue what he was saying,” Kad said as he hopped up and sat on his desk.

Petro opened one of his books, titled
Electronic Theory and the Evolution of Communications
, written by Master Domato.

“I didn’t get it either, but he made sense toward the end. I mean, not the predictive stuff. You know, when we were young, we didn’t even know our own language, and it takes time to learn it,” Petro said. Maybe that was it; maybe it was going to take time for him to learn how to use this ability of his, and all he had to do was be patient.

Kad lifted his legs up, twirled on his desktop, and fell off onto the floor.

Petro laughed.

At that moment, Sha entered the room. Petro looked at him while Kad got up off the floor.

“Where’s Master Domato?” Sha asked in a curt tone.

“Umm…he just left. Why?” Petro said.

Sha went over to Master Domato’s desk and opened a drawer.

“What are you doing?” Kad said, moving over toward Sha with his chest puffed up slightly.

Sha ignored him and rummaged through the desk and pulled out a book, the same one Petro had. “I came to get this. I’ve been reassigned to electronic communications,” he said.

Kad backed away and gave Petro a strange look, conveying that there was no way this was going to turn out well for them.

Petro stood. “If you want, we can study together,” he said.

Sha walked past Petro with the book in hand. “Nah, I do better on my own,” he said. “And who wants to study with someone like you anyway?”

Petro felt hurt by the comment; he’d not done anything to Sha to get this kind of reaction from him. “What is your problem?”

At the door, Sha stopped and looked Petro up and down. “You think you’re important because you’re a ward; you think you’re important because everyone listens to you; and you think you’re important because you are supposed to be the one to fulfill the prophecy of the Coming. And let’s face it, you aren’t anything.” Sha promptly left the room.

Kad sat back down on top of his desk, his foot in the seat of his chair. It was quiet, very quiet. Petro let out his breath, his head down, not looking at Kad. He didn’t know what to say to him. This was more than just finding out he was a ward; this was something else. This would distance himself from everyone; no one would want to follow him now. They would not look at him as a brother but as some freak. Sha was right—he wasn’t anything, he didn’t want to be anything, he couldn’t even get this stupid ability to see into the future to work for him. He’d do better to focus on his education and understand the dangers around Dugual and how he could help Dugual and the people he loved. That was where he belonged, not here or anywhere—Dugual was his home, and he couldn’t wait to go back and for it to be the way things were.

“What’s wrong with that guy?” Kad broke the long silence.

Petro was relieved that was the first thing out of Kad’s mouth. He had not known what was going on with Sha until now. He’d made it abundantly clear that he didn’t like him. “Maybe he’s got something going on we don’t know about,” he said. Sure, that was it. No, it wasn’t, but he didn’t want to get into the whole prophecy discussion with Kad.

“I think he’s got a chip on that scrawny shoulder of his. He needs to watch it, or someone’s going to knock it off,” Kad grunted.

Petro grabbed his book. “Well, let’s get going. We have lots to do and learn, and before you know it, we’ll be talking like Master Domato.” He smiled at Kad.

Kad slapped his knee. “You know, I’ve always wanted to sound like that, like I know what I’m talking about, confusing everyone around me.”

The two of them moved slowly to the door. “So when were you going to tell me?” Kad asked.

It was going to happen, the talk, and Petro reluctantly decided to speak about it.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I mean, I just found out myself right before I came here. It’s stupid, really—I don’t think I’m going to…”

“Fulfill the prophecy of the Coming? Yeah, I don’t think anyone really thinks they’re going to be the one to do that.” Kad slapped Petro on the back. “Let’s hit the books so we sound smart like Master Domato. That way no one will ask you anything, because they’ll be too worried they’ll say something stupid,” Kad said. He playfully punched Petro in the arm and ran out of the room.

Petro chased after him.

Each and every one of us will be tested, and we will stand before our God in the end. He will ask us, what did you do with your life? And you will stand there wondering, what did you do? All that time, all those people, all the need was around you—yet what did you do with your life? Do not make this mistake; when the time comes for your final test, be ready and know without doubt. Faith and love be with you.

—From
Tokus Numas
,
Book IV, , “Judgement,” by the Numas

“N
eophytes” was what all first-year recruits were called. Seedlings ready to be nurtured until they completed their first year. In the Gulch, back in the mountains, Petro and his brothers had a different name for the group they served under—the Sign of Seven. It was an elite group with special skills and a duty to serve the Numas in some of the most hostile places in Spearca, the most complex situations where stealth and secrecy were employed, and also for special defense when called upon.

As a part of Petro’s first year, he’d put away the idea of trying to control his ability to see the future and ignored it all together. During his studies he’d learned more about electronics than he ever wanted to. He dived onto his bunk; a book on microprocessing fell out onto the floor as he closed his eyes, and the equations lingered in his mind: how they were drawn up on the chalkboard and how they all seemed to meld together. He was never going to get this—it was just too much to understand. He turned over onto his back and looked up at the fiber skylight, which brought real light from the sun through a network of optical cables. Reaching over, he pressed a button, and the light went off.

He focused his mind on the trip he was about to take. In order to pass his final test, he had to scale up the side of the mountain, hauling communication gear to the peak, and then set it up and communicate with nodes on other mountain peaks and the ground station. It wasn’t going to be easy this time; they were going to be tested in the extreme cold on their full capabilities to stay alive, to scale a mountain, and to make sure everything worked as it should.

They trained six days a week in class, going over electronics, communication systems, and radio frequencies. They studied the electromagnetic spectrum from visible light, microwaves, ionizing radiation, and superhigh frequencies. In the lab, they set up data servers, hauled cables, and used tools to read protocols, which carried packets of information from one machine to another. They were even taught how to fix their systems and taught how to break into systems or how to jam a radio signal—all the skills of one who must be proficient in the science of electronic communication.

Outside class and the lab, they practiced fighting skills and interrogation methods, such as how to spot someone telling a lie and how to get information from an unwilling subject. Their final test was the true test of their physical abilities, their knowledge of communications, and their ability to function as a team. If one failed, they all failed. Here at Tokus Numas, unity was crucial, but individualism was also valued. As a team’s strength was only as strong as its weakest member, this pushed them all to work, to study, and to ensure they were at the same as or a better level than their peers.

Petro wanted to sleep, but there was so much to do to get ready. He needed to check his rucksack and his cold-weather gear once more. The team had inventoried the system to make sure it was all there. It was something they had learned the hard way. When they had gone out earlier in the year on a trip to the edge of the White Sea, they had left something critical behind. It was their transmitter’s mike, the one they used to connect to the radio and push the button to transmit a signal. They had gotten all the way to the White Sea’s beaches and set up—and then nothing. It was their first failure, and they didn’t want to repeat it. Vetus Sepher had them doing leg exercises until their legs about fell off. Petro didn’t want that experience again. He switched on the skylight, and the brightness of it caused him to squint until his eyes adjusted. He got up, went to his locker, took out his gear, and unpacked his rucksack. This was his fourth time doing this today. He checked that there were extra sets of clothes, wool socks, cold-weather pants, thermal underwear, and on and on.

Kad walked into the room and sat down on his bunk. “You doing that again? Is that, like, your third time?”

“Fourth,” Petro said with his head nearly inside his rucksack, staring at the bottom.

“You should be sleeping—like I’m about to do. We have a long day on the mountain, and it’s going to be freezing out there,” Kad said. He tossed the book in his hand onto the floor, lay back on his bed, and kicked out his legs.

“I want to be sure I’m ready,” Petro said. “When we get to the top of the mountain, we don’t want to make the mistake of leaving something critical behind. Not like at the White Sea,” he added, pulling another pair of wool socks out of his pack. Petro was also in charge of getting them up the side of the mountain and back down safely.

“Yeah, I know. Can you hurry up and turn off that light? I’m bushed. Tomorrow comes early,” Kad said.

Petro looked at his wrist; his watch said 0200 hours. “It’s already tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Kad turned over, and within moments, he was snoring.

Petro got up, stepped out of the room, and moved into the hall. He walked three rooms down, took the handle, turned it, and went inside. Sha and Nalum were asleep in their bunks. He moved quickly to Sha’s rucksack, got down, opened it, and dug his hand in deep.
The mike has to be in here
, he thought. His hand pushed, pulled, and forced its way through the gear until he found the hard plastic mike. He pulled it out, sat down on the ground, and quickly buttoned up Sha’s rucksack. His head snapped around, thinking he’d woken Sha, but he was still asleep; his arm had fallen over the edge of the bed was all. Petro grabbed the mike and went out of the room.

He walked down the hall, got to his room, and entered. He got down on the ground and looked his gear over. Petro kept his focus and went through his things again. He listed them in his head, seeing all the things he needed to take with him. He stuffed the mike into the rucksack; then he stopped and looked over at the door.

Vetus Sepher stood there. “You should be sleeping,” he said.

Kad’s snoring suddenly got louder, and the two of them looked over at him. Petro shook his head and started to pack things back up. “I know. I’m almost done here.”

Vetus Sepher came over and crouched down. “You remember when you first got here?” Petro glanced at him. “I asked you about an object I wanted you to find. You told me the object was a spark or a light.”

Petro didn’t know where Vetus Sepher was headed with this question. Yes, he remembered; yes, he had told him it was a spark of light; but why was this relevant now? “Yes, I recall,” he said.

“Did it change? I mean, did your mind change about the object? Did you think of it as a different object?” Vetus Sepher said. He picked up a pair of socks and handed them to Petro, who promptly stuffed them inside of the rucksack.

“It was the same as it was a year ago. Why?”

Vetus Sepher stood, turned about, and headed toward the door. He stopped at the door and faced Petro. “I want you to think of an object. One that is on top of the mountain that you will climb tomorrow. I want you to see it in your mind and then relay what you think it is to me over the radio.” He walked away.

Another question about another object
.
It wasn’t making any sense. He’d been here for a year, and now he was to imagine an object when he didn’t even know what it was? Maybe he was delirious and needed some sleep. Petro slapped himself and shook his head vigorously.
No, that doesn’t help any.
Vetus Sepher was serious. Petro jammed the rest of the clothing into the pack, shoving each thing in harder than the last, until he finished packing the rest of his gear. He cinched up the rucksack, went over to his bed, crawled under the blankets, turned off the lights, and shut his eyes. Vetus Sepher’s question raced through his mind, over and over. Petro turned onto his side and pulled the blanket up over his ears, but the question would not stop its relentless attack. What object did he think was on top of the mountain? Oh, he could imagine snow or rocks, but that was the extent of it. It could be anything. Maybe a tree branch, a flag left up there to mark the summit, or maybe something even more random like a meteor that had fallen from the sky and left deposits of iron. It could be any number of things. And then it came to him: a body. There was a body up there, a man, someone who had died years ago in a snowstorm that had engulfed his camp, and he had frozen to death. It felt strange, thinking about a dead person on top of the mountain. Was there really one there? He’d been able to see into the future at times, but could he see into the past? He thought back, trying to come up with any moment he’d seen something that happened in the past, but he could not come up with one. He didn’t care to think about this question, to see an object he’d never seen before. The whole thing just seemed odd to him.

***

The cold air bit Petro, Kad, Jon, Bran, Nalum, and Sha’s faces and savagely attacked their thick clothing, searching for any exposed skin. If their skin was exposed, it would feel like the tips of daggers poking into the skin. The blistering cold wind was relentless, and yet they pressed on. The young men made their ascent up the mountainside. Their safety ropes dangled down over gray slabs of granite that jutted out. Each time they crawled up the side, they’d put in a new anchor, latch the safety rope on, and repeat. They were headed to Fellowship Peak, where many brothers before them had carried out this very task. Up the side they went, slowly hauling their large packs and radio gear that was tied to strands of cord. Each time they stopped, they’d hoist up the gear that was only a few meters below. Then they’d shimmy up the side, stop, and hoist the gear up once again. Sha, struggling with his pack, was just in front of Petro. He noticed Sha struggling, got closer to him, and pushed him up.

Sha made a muffled sound and looked down and through the goggles on his face; he appeared angry. Petro stopped what he was doing, allowing Sha to pull his pack the rest of the way up himself with no help. It didn’t sit well with Petro. This was no time to cause issues while on the side of a mountain, and he knew better than to escalate it. Lives were at stake, and Sha was truly putting them at risk with that sort of attitude. Once they got to the top, he would bring up the issue, but not now; it would be pointless and dangerous to try, not to mention that it would be hard to speak to one another staggered on the side of a mountain with high winds whipping about.

They continued up the side until they crested. There were patches of snow, jagged granite, and gray all about. It was uneven terrain with few flat spots, but it was only large enough to accommodate a single person. They pulled the rest of the gear up and took their belongings, each searching out a place to secure his gear. They would spend the night up here, but first they needed to get their communications going. Petro looked out over the valley below. It was much larger and wider than he had thought it to be. Large pines riddled the valley, and the hardwoods were all dormant. The clouds hovered high above in swirls of gray-and-white mist. The horizon was gray and white, too, a lighter variation than the mountain range that stretched out as far as one could see.

Taking their packs, the team assembled its radio system. Petro carried the mike, ensuring that the last mistake at the White Sea would not be repeated. Jon shuffled over, staying low, carrying the base station, the size of small suitcase. Sha, Bran, and Kad assembled the antenna, ran a small cable, and hooked up the power supply. It was all in order. The wind whipped through without warning and hit so hard that one of the rucksacks was blown off. The antenna bent forward, smashing into the hard granite. They held on to their gear and lay as flat as possible, keeping their bodies low and letting the cursed wind pass over. Petro grimaced, mad that one of his teammates had lost his pack. He kept his head down, waiting for the wind to pass, which left as quickly as it had come.

“Everyone OK?” Petro asked, raising his head. He searched the area and saw that all of them were there. He’d seen the one pack go off the side. “Who lost their gear?”

All eyes turned to Sha, who made direct eye contact with Petro. “It wasn’t my fault. I was helping you,” he said.

Petro wanted to kick Sha right off the side like his pack. His gear should have been tied down like the rest. There were D rings bolted into the granite for this very reason, and all he had to do was to wrap a cord around it and cinch it tight. If he hadn’t taken the mike from Sha’s pack last night, they would have surely failed. He cooled his temper, kept his composure, and had to think it all through before he spoke. All eyes were on him, waiting for his response. He took in a deep breath and let it out. “Kad, Jon, we’ll need to share our gear with Sha. We only need to be here for the one night. If we huddle…”

“We can’t huddle; there’s no room. We can barely fit on one of the flat areas by ourselves,” Jon said.

Petro bit his lip. He began to inspect the antenna, turning away from the others. He felt their eyes on his back, waiting, wondering what he was doing.

“Petro?” Kad said and reached over to him. He placed his hand onto Petro’s shoulder and gripped it slightly.

Petro shot him a look. “What?”

“What do you want us to do?” Kad glanced at the others.