Chapter Two:     Three Heroes

SHAMBALLAH MISSION: 1st Report
ART notes events of Thursday, September 11--

Dagrolyt, Daklakht and my own Uncle Wallace were going on a quest to end the authority of the corrupt and wicked Nokhon Elder, Da-starda-hat, in the far-away Himalayan Mountains. Two huge Sasquatches and a little old white man against an entire hidden "city" of also huge Yetis. The trick was how to get our heroes from Seattle to Tibet; Sasquatches are too big and heavy to simply buy tickets on a commercial airliner, and then there is all that other complication about Passports and health documentation, of which they had none.

The only "official" papers they had were the "Letters of Recommendation" we had ourselves printed out for them, identifying them as Official Representatives for our newly-existent Nokhon Nation Project. Basically they were worthless for any legal purpose, but at least there had been some international news interest in the concept of a hitherto unknown "nation" of Sasquatches located who-knows-where in the deepest wildernesses of the USA, so we were trying to sell them as "dignitaries" to be treated with respect by any government in the world. Maybe it would work. The whole mission was iffy.

But evidently Uncle Wallace knew someone who knew someone, because he had somehow himself arranged a free flight to Nepal with a military cargo plane, a USAF Globemaster flying out of McChord Air Force Base. It was impossible to imagine how he could have accomplished that, since Old Wallace has been a hermit living among the Sasquatches for most of his 110 years. He seemed to be an old-timer who'd barely known how to use an old-fashioned crank telephone, much less modern telecommunications. "An old pal kinda owes me a favor," was all he told us.

We gave our three heroes a send-off today and wished them well. Goodbye hugs from Elaine and Melly and Lissandra; squatch-style shoulder-bumps from Adam, Dambaraggan and other male Nokhons: weeping farewells from Masnia and Malasna, Mrølla and Misma as their man and father bravely marched off to probable danger, but all agreed that someone must deal with that evil Elder who had caused so much damage to so many lives. Before he also wipes out Western Civilization, by the way-- the "Starda Faction" evidently have plans to EMP all modern electro-technology on a worldwide scale.

We got a call that the flight would be leaving McChord Field at 10:30 am. I drove them to the Air Force Base south of Tacoma in our battered van, which was just barely large enough to transport two full-sized male Sasquatches in back and two normal-sized men in front. Fortunately, they had almost no luggage. In fact, they barely had any clothing, just some of the white cotton campesino outfits Elaine has been producing so that immigrating squatches can go among Americans without being arrested for "nudity". They were not accustomed to wearing clothes at all, but it would probably be necessary while flying around the world with military men in uniform. It was shocking enough just being big hairy Sasquatches, people weren't quite used to them yet.

Fortunately, we had finally repaired the van's sliding side door, which Adam had kicked to pieces while being driven crazy by a syssk a couple of months ago. Being in an automobile was frightening enough for my squatch passengers, even just smoothly rolling down a Freeway, without having to deal with being exposed to shrieking wind and the ferocious roar of Seattle's hectic traffic. Dagrolyt had been in moving cars before, but Daklakht had not. Although he didn't show any fear, not the stalwart, stone-faced tough guy that he is.

He also happens to be Masnia's biological father, and perhaps part-father to Adam. Also Magga's other lover, besides Adam. Relationships are different in the squatch world. Anyway, Daklakht was now family as far as we were concerned.

He is going on this mission because one of the Ultimate Nine Elders of Shamballah, Da-starda-hat, is making a play to become the worst Nokhon dictator in history (or secret-history?). A man who had been Daklakht's commander, but betrayed him beyond measure: controlling him with psychic domination for many years, enslaving him to commit acts of murder and cruelty, even as he believed he was serving a good master. Daklakht had only recently broken free of Da-starda-hat's domination and was now on his way to exact retribution.

When asked what their plan was once they got to Shamballah, Daklakht had laid out this strategy: to sneak into Shamballah unseen (he knew a way); to find the underground resistance movement (Da Jakkt was the squatch to see); to locate Da-starda-hat and either arrest or kill him if necessary (this part seemed sketchy); to defuse the shutdown of all skesk in our own technological world (by magical Sha-haka EMP); to stop negotiations with Chinese military (or whatever was going on); and to restore the balance of the Ultimate Nine Elders back to being an honest government once again. Ambitious for three heroes, but that was what needed to be done.

Uncle Wallace was my grandfather Hiram's younger brother, which actually makes him my "great Uncle", but I cannot say I actually know the man; he is a complete mystery. I have only met him three times, most recently several days ago, when he joined us for the first Kha-rat with our recently arrived squatch immigrants. What I've recently learned is that while he vanished for years at a time, ostensibly living as a gold prospector, he was actually living and trading with the Nokhontli. He has learned their language and taken a squatch mate, spending most of his life among them. He also became a Sha-haka, perhaps the only white man ever to do so.

Wallace told me that he'd met a female Bigfoot named Mazaza when he was young, they mated and are still a couple. We have yet to meet her. He said she's older than him, but still looks "purty good". She is responsible for him being so strong and vital even at his preposterous age. "She feeds me right," he claimed, "rotten food is mostly what weakens and kills all you NokhSo folk." Then he grins, "Yeh, she gives me jus' the right amounts o' food 'n' sex--that woman can still yøramma like a springtime’s lass!" I had to tease him about sex at his age and he said, "The Full Moon comes every month an' so do I." And, "When ya get t' my age, sonny," as if I ever would, "three solid days of non-stop rootin' usually satisfies a man enough for the whole rest of the month!"

Bragging? He seems in incredible shape for any age. And that's about all I know about him.

But now we all know that the American version of Yeti-- Bigfoot --does exist, and they insist that Shamballah does too. It's a real place there in the Himalayas. The question is how the reality of a city of Yetis matches up with the old myths.

These myths suggest that Shamballah was/is a center for Tibetan humans, not Nokhons, although there has been mention of yeti serving as protectors of the city. According to the Nokhontli's own myths the city was once a place of spiritual learning where both races of mankind (and several other sentient species) lived together, until there was a falling out (war). So much for eternal peace and harmony.

One of the more amusing (and improbable) myths about Shamballah is the complex tunnel system that should lead to a subterranean world of "Antediluvian descent" and is connected all over the planet: Afghanistan, California, England, New Mexico, the Pyramid of Giza in Egypt, Mount Epomeo in Italy-- the list is long, you can Google it. My favorite is the secret access to be found in a subway station in Manhattan, known only to certain Order of the Golden Dawn initiates. Oh, and the underwater UFO base in Lake Ontario-- local Indian tribes are supposed to know all about it. The Nazis took all this very seriously, by the way, and tried to tap into the "Shamballah Energy" that connected all these points, but never got very far.

I'm not going to say I believe that such a network of ancient tunnels ever existed, but I must mention that Googling "ancient tunnel complexes" abounds with details about such things, including ancient underground cities, often mentioning archeologists finding "large" human bones. But there was a time when I definitely would have had to say that I did not believe in Bigfoot, along with most people, so that shows how much we think we know really matters.

However, Dakhlakt has spent some time in Shamballah and he says that there is indeed a network of ancient tunnels under the Himalayas, many in disrepair and useless, and that "Shamballah" is only one of many local temple-towns still connected to and accessible by those underground passages. I find that somewhat fascinating. Too bad they're not taking cameras with them, since they are forbidden skesk.

"Tell me, Uncle Wallace," I had to say, "how the hell you could swing a free flight on a military plane? Everything here is restricted access, top secret, no entrance, and yet we're driving in like we were generals."

"Oh I can't say, sonny, can't say," he insisted and chuckled, "got some tippy-top secrets myself. But I don't blab them, or they don't work no more."

The plane was a Boeing C-17 Globemaster, big and fat, 4 engines, t-tail. The kind they use for equipment drop-offs in "small airfields in hard terrain" (Googled that too, makes me an expert on everything), onboard was a cargo of military Jeeps in two rows side by side. It did not seem that two squatches, although big and heavy, would be an excessive burden and I doubt that little Uncle Wallace weighs over a hundred pounds.

We had to wait before boarding the plane, until a General showed up in a staff car. When he got out I could see that he was quite old for an active officer, although hardly as old as Uncle Wallace. He wore three stars. He was coming toward us --but he had to stop and gawk at our two squatch friends-- then advanced and offered his hand to Uncle Wallace.

"Well, holy shit, Wally, you really are still alive! And looking, well... old, but somehow younger than me."

"Yeah, hi Marcus. Yep, healthy living'll do it for ya, what kin I say? Thanks fer settin' this up for me 'n' me friends."

The General offered me his hand, which was hardly feeble, but when he faced the Nokhons he bobbed his head up and down, squatch-style. He had obviously been around Bigfoot before. Daklakht and Dagrolyt bobbed their heads politely back at him. Wallace commented, "Hey Marcus, you still remember how Nokhons shake hands."

To which the General responded, "Yeah. It's been a long time, but some things you end up remembering." Then he got down to business, pointing at the Globemaster, "Okay, Wally, this baby will get you to Guam in one hop. It'll refuel there-- you guys stay inside, out of sight. You are not officially on this flight, we're doing a covert operation here..."

"Jus' like in the ol' days, eh Marcus?"

"Almost, but you've got to keep these Nokhons out of sight. There's a limit to how much I can fiddle with orders and budgets, although some guys in the CIA are secretly backing me on this. Anyway, after Guam you'll fly to Burma, where we drop off those jeeps, and then you'll be delivered to the Nepalese Air Force airfield outside Kathmandu, Nepal. But that part of the trip is completely unofficial-- technically illegal --so do not mention it to anyone, not even the crew of this plane. As far as they are concerned, you are spies on a covert need-to-know mission."

"Waal, tha's essactly what we are," Wallace assured him.

"Yeah, I picked up on that. Those CIA guys seemed to suspect something about some kind of threat to the American National Security going on in the Himalayas, but wouldn't tell me anything more than that."

"It ain't against USA so much" Wallace informed him, "it's more ever'thing you'd call worldwide technology and civilization. Kinda an Apocalypse, I reckon. Personally, I don' care much about neither o' those things, but it'd be a tinker's mess for lotsa people all over the whole consarned world, and all at once."

"If you don't care personally why are you involved?"

"Oh, this IS personal: I'm after an ornery polecat who's hurt my family, and who'll do more and even worse if'n he don' get stopped."

Their only luggage was a big backpack of woven hemp with straps modifiable to fit a squatch, containing some special cold-weather gear and climbing equipment, some dried fruit and nuts to get them through the bleakest stretches. The only wicked skesk they had was the cell phone and charger Wallace had hidden in his jacket. Dagrolyt assured me that it would be enough. For superhuman squatches, maybe, but I shivered just thinking about the kind of hardship they would be enduring and how far they had to go. This was probably going to take a while, certainly months.

I tried asking the General what he knew about the CIA's involvement with all this, but he was just as secretive as Uncle Wallace. In fact, I never even got the General's name other than Marcus.

landed katmandoo . headin out north now into mntns . snowstorm . may take a while

I replied to confirm that we had received the message, but got nothing after that. We're still waiting for word.