Chapter Twenty Seven:     Sneaking Around in the Dark

SHAMBALLAH MISSION: 5th Report

Transcribed from dictation, DAWALASAT speaking--

I 'xpected a long wait for Dak and Dag to come back from the tunnels under Shamballah, so it wuz okay hangin' round with old Da-zinta-hat, we got along purty good. Turns out we sorta knew about each other from a distance thirty years back, when the Negotiator Project wuz bein' formulated-- only he'd been in Shamballah and I'd been in Aket so it wuz all by second-hand telepathic telegraf, we'd never actually met in person afore.

We each considered the other guy interestin'. I get lotsa comments on bein' so old for a NokhSo, but this ELDER wuz three times my age an' still healthy. O' course, he hadn't always been cooped up into his little chamber in the Palace, no-sir-ee, he'd traveled 'round the Nokhon world a fair bit durin' his first coupla hunnert years. Never been to the Americas, tho, so he wuz intrigued by my tall tales 'bout living among the peculiar little Nokhso folk and seeing their cities growin bigger 'n' dirtier, 'bout me rejecting all that and pannin' for gold, then trading contraband Nokhso skesk to the Bigfoot folk livin in the Cascade Mountains.

But we wuz both mostly interested in what each other knew about our common enemy: Da-starda-hat.

I've already told ya how I'd first met Dastardat, way back when he wuz the Alutna-jii of Aket and I wuz just comin' back to the Nokhon world after my noble stint in WWII, circa 1945. I'd a been 'bout 40 years old at that time, Dastardat seemed about the same, altho it's hard to tell with Nokhons: anyway we wuz both grown-up adults. But Da-zinta-hat had known the somabitch since he wuz born. "Trouble even then," he told me.

'Ccordin to him there wuz a big flashy comet in the skies 'bout the time little Dastardeh got hatched. Sounded to me like it mighta been Haley's Comet, which'd put it at 1910, making him five years younger'n me. Anywell, there wuz signs & portents, etcetera. He wuz born in Shamballah an' grew up there, so he wuz a "city boy", rather than a natural wild-ass Yeti runnin' round the Himalayas like'n they're s'posta.

Normal-wise, little kids don' get to live in Nokhon "cities", which are more like government and university facilities rather than family homes, but this kid wuz a special case. For one thing his mother died givin' birth, an' that almost never happens among Nokhon folk-- and the baby had certain deformities, which wuz also pretty rare. The mother'd been brought to Shamballah because of reactin' real bad to her pregnancy-- sufferin hysterical agony --so a collection of Sha-haka-mas tried to help her. As y'know, Nokhons have a long-established breeding system that usually produces healthy children with special traits, but this child wuz a little gnome with warts, maybe the ugliest and tiniest baby Yeti ever seen. Folks wuz shocked by his looks.

He'd been deliberately bred for psychic abilities, but the detriment of his physical body had been unintended. But the psychic abilities came through, altho in a negative way: just looking at him made people feel bad. He had some kinda aura that hurt to be near, so no one female could stand to mother him for very long. So he got raised by a committee of the local mlonøli.

Raising him wuz not easy: Dastardeh wuz an ornery li'l cuss with a natural psychic ability to cause pain for anyone who tried to control him, so t'wuz often he had to be dealt with by Sha-hakas expert in casting powerful spells and syssks. They could always win over him, he wuz a gifted child but still an amateur, and they were seasoned masters. Eventually he learned to behave himself, or pretend to. But he'd also become familiar with the shaman's techniques.

It wuzn't until years later that he learned to make people feel good, or at least thankful about not feeling bad. But little ugly and unloved Dastardeh deliberately made people uncomfortable so that they would cater to his whims, to allow themselves some relief from the psychic discomfort he could generate. By nature he wuz a cantankerous little bugger, but also fiendishly clever and devious, always learning new strategies for getting his way. From a very early age he became expert at dominating folks.

Dastardeh never had any childhood friends, but as he grew older he accumulated a group of older "friends"-- although it wuz more like a "following" --by manipulating them into mutually advantageous positions of power. Even as an adult, then called Dastardat, he wuz physically small and grotesque but therefore determined to be socially important and powerful, and those "friends" would be indebted to him, expected to obey his orders as he assembled what would eventually become the Starda Faction.

While most folk were repelled by his appearance and persona, some few were attracted to the sting of his psychic presence. And his intelligence, which wuz impressive. They recognized young Dastardat as a potential guru or leader, practically begging to be dominated by the little gnome, and he jumped at it. One of his very first disciples wuz a simple-minded misfit named Dajassaret, who had become an untalented Sha-haka almost by accident. Dastardat found that he understood the concepts of magic so much better than Dajassaret and offered advice that helped the guy become more competent, improving his social status as a wise shaman. Dajassaret needed him, and Dastardat realized that he could use some loyal disciples. He found that he had most influence over those with lower intelligence, so he cultivated that kind of friend. A few other misfits were seduced into joining the club.

Dastardat had an instinctive understanding of Nokhon politics and learned how to bend the system to his whims, how to delegate authority, whom to use for which purpose. Me being a NokhSo, I might compare him to Adolf Hitler-- if fact, I will: he had that kind of drive and charisma, all focused on doing as much evil to as many people as possible. Personally, I went to war against Hitler, and now I'm here going to war against Da-starda-hat.

Like most young males, Dastardat qualified himself as adult in Nokhon society by surviving his Enduring-- that traditional manhood-test they all gotta go through --so that he could apply to study magic. He wanted to become Sha-haka, of course, everybody does (even me). But he wuz rejected. The studies committee Elders had been quite interested in developing his psychic talents, but when they discovered how adept he already wuz-- and how dangerously nasty --they decided it would be unwise to teach him more.

All they did wuz make him mad, really fit to be tied. The Elder in charge of studies at that time wuz Da-leeka-hat, who also served as one of The Ultimate Nine Elders. Dastardat considered that Elder his most hated enemy. Accordin' to Da-zinta-hat, later on that same Elder wuz the first of The Nine to die and get replaced by one of Dastardat's friends. But back then no one suspected Dastardat of murder because-- well, for one thing, Nokhons almost never do that-- nor did he seem to profit by the replacement so there wuz no obvious motive. It took many years for the pattern finally became clear that Dastardat wuz eliminating Elders and putting his own agents into position for his future ascension to power. He did it so slowly, year by year, so carefully an' cleverly, beginning long before he wuz old enough to assume any kind of authority himself.

Unaccepted to study at that time Dastardat joined the Alutna instead. It wuz a smart move and suited his talents: since he liked dominating people and wuz capable of exacting obedience with his psychic abilities. He didn't need to be big and strong. Of course, he wuz what we'd call a "corrupt cop" because he respected no law but his own selfishness, while he played the part so that his superiors were satisfied by how he so vigorously enforced the most obscure rules of Atli.

Da-zinta-hat wuz already an Elder in those days. He had no personal contact with the young Dastardat, they moved in different circles, but he couldn't help noticing the ugly little Alutna becoming celebrated for his effective work. The reigning Alutna-jii at that time, Dalogaret, praised the young cop as his most effective agent, despite being so small. Within less than a year another Elder died and Dalogaret overtook that position due to some tricky politics among the Starda Faction. And then young Dastardat somehow became the next Alutna-jii, even tho he did not have enough seniority, and got to serve/rule as top cop for a short while.

But the very next time The Ultimate Nine Elders convened their collective wisdom wuz enough to recognize what wuz happening and exile Dastardat from Shamballah. Yep, even tho two of The Nine Elders were now on his side they couldn't sway the group mind enough to corrupt it, so he had to go.

He seems to have wandered around the Nokhon World for a buncha years (ca. 1925-1930), but no one knows exactly where he went or what he did in that time. It's rumored that he visited both of the other secret Nokhon cities of Chuuka and Jinjada before finally arriving at Aket, where he settled down and began rebuilding his empire.

But even after Dastardat had left the Nokhon capital, Elders of The Nine continued to die mysteriously over the years, eventually amounting to five of the originals being replaced by four of Dastardat's "friends". Elder Da-zinta-hat had been a member of The Ultimate Nine since long before the Starda Faction came along and had always been cautious enough to have guarded himself against "unforseen accidents" or he would have been dead years before.

By the time Dastardat got back to Shamballah (musta been in 1995, if'n you're countin') he already had three of his "friends" placed among the Ultimate Nine Elders. They had influenced the convening of The Nine enough to rescinded his exile status, which had been proclaimed so long ago (76 years) that many inhabitants had forgotten about the reasons. And there had never been any evidence that the three deaths were anything but accidents. It coulda also been a coincidence that a fourth Elder died the same day Dastardat returned, and that the Starda Faction had rigged things so that he could just slide himself into place among The Ultimate Nine as the newly appointed Elder Da-starda-hat.

Almost no inhabitants of Shamballah were aware of what wuz happening. By the time the Ultimate Nine had convened in their new constellation of minds, it wuz too late: they made a ruling eatablishing the Starda Faction as legitamate. And since then there has been no getting rid of them. It wuz a coup.

So the four non-Starda Elders remaining alive are aware of their constant danger, and have to live as prisoners in their own bakhl, even though they are elements of the most powerful intelligence on the planet. It's a kinda paradox.

But he didn'a seem to mind. O' course a 300-year-old geezer probly don' really yearn to go runnin 'round the Himalayan hills & dales all day long, he'd sooner sit in a lotus pose an' let his astral spirit go wanderin' a lot farther than his body ever could. I've learned to do stuff like that too, but this old coot wuz way beyond my limits. He wuz visitin' the other Elders in the Palace here and some in Aket too. Also knew a bunch of Tibetan monks in a temple nearby-- yep, them wise old NokhSos of Shangri-la fame, I guesses. He could go flyin'. Oh well, jus 'nother coupla hundret years to go an' I kin do that too, I reckons.

I told Da-zinta-hat 'bout my own encounters with Dastardat in Aket, before he came back to Shamballah to become one of the Nine Elders. Most o' that I's already told here in these recordins, so don' need to go repeatin' m'self an' bein a boring storyteller for you that already knows that part o' the story. About how bad he'd abused folk, 'specially Daklakht, whom he'd used to do the abusing. And about that pistol-- the Colt.45 --which he'd cheated me for.

"He still has that noisekiller," Da-zinta-hat sez to me, "I have seen it in his chamber, back when he was still pretending to be friendly."

That surprised me: since he couldn' get his big fat finger in the trigger guard anyways. But he still had it 70 years after I'd procured it for him, even tho he'd never used it. Altho Da-zinta-hat told me Dastardat had managed to fire it once, inside his own chambers, but the noise and recoil-- and crazy ricochets zooming around from walls and floor and ceiling-- had scared him off ever trying again. The old Elder also tells me that Da-starda-hat has an esoteric collection of forbidden skesk-thingys which he shows off once'n a while, just to let folks see that he is above all law, even that of Atli.

I asked the Elder if'n he'd also noticed that oversized Bowie knife I'd once gave Dastardat as a bribe to let me keep on tradin' illegal skesk, an' he says: "That is not part of his exhibition, he wears it on his body at all times. There is a rumor that he kills with it down in the slave-tunnels."

I feels a flash of shame: rememberin' how I'd put that knife of tempered steel into the innocent hands of honest young Alutna Daklakht, to be delivered to his back-then boss, the Alutna-jii Dastardat. Rememberin' how reluctant young Dak had been to even touch such forbidden skesk, even more to transport it all the way to Aket.

Lucky for me, Dak wuz never a hothead. Fact is, I'd call him the most calculating fellow I've ever meant-- I mean that as a compliment, not in the negative way. He prefers to think things out before he reacts-- unless it is an immediate emergency, and then he's like a flash of lightning. Anyway, he wuz always a good cop. Not that I wuz seeking contact with Alutnas, in my profession as smuggler. But now he's just the right comrade to have on this mission

When we talked 'bout the Negotiator Project we could compare notes. As one of The Ultimate Nine, Da-zinta-hat had been involved on the Shamballah end, while I wuz a "NokhSo consultant" at Aket. I got personally involved with the Negotiator stuff first after I'd myself become a Sha-haka, when I finally had some respect among Aket's Elders. They considered me their one and only expert in NokhSo behavior, being one myself.

There'd even been some consideration that I might become their Negotiator, mostly because I already spoke Nokhontli and had some standing in their culture as one of the few NokhSos who had ever been so integrated. But I had to admit that my grasp of my own English lingo wuz not up to Ambassador-addressing-the-world status. We needed a bilingual Nokhon Orator.

But altho maybe Da-zinta-hat and I had both been involved in the Negotiator Project, to them over here in Shamballah it had been a remote exercise, whilst to me-- well, I wuz friends with the people on the practical end of things. The ones who got hurt. Which had turned my own casual dislike of Dastardat as a corrupt Alutna-jii, to become an intensely personal hate for a deliberately evil trouble-maker. Especially after his deliberations caused the unnecessary death of Adam's mother, the sweet and innocent young Mayala, for whom I felt responsible.

Not that I did her a lotta good. To this day I ain't sure a what happened, altho I's purty sure that Dastardat's to blame somehows. I wuz s'posta meet Mayala and her little kid at the big open meadow near my old family homestead, then introduce them to Art 'n' Elaine, who wuz livin there. But something happened to me the day before, dunno 'xactly what, I just sorta slept a few days an' next thing I knew Mayala had already been shot 'n' killed by a white-man hunter. Yep, that sad 'n' sorry fella I met at the last kha-rat, name a Felix.

I wuz tellin' old Da-zinta-hat about how I'd suspected Dastardat had engineered Mayala's death an' he interrupted me to say, "Ra, that he did, assisted by his Alutna slave Ma-ralla, who entranced you with a syssk. But Mayala's death wuz an error; the intended target wuz the Negotiator child."

Waal, hearing that got my piss to boil. I'd always 'xpected something like that but never had any confirmation until now. "How'd you know that?" I ask.

"Whenever we Nine Elders converge telepathically we also become privy to one another's secrets. We tend to keep those secrets, but since Da-starda-hat wishes to murder me, I owe him no loyalty."

I remember when Masnia wuz born. Very special child. Especially to me: daughter of my good friend Daklakht and my good friends Malasna and Dabronat. Hmm, it suddenly occurs to me that I could perhaps answer that question causing problems for Adam in the USA: is Masnia of legal age in Washin’ton State? Tho there's some confusion whether that means 16 or 18 years old. Not that I actually do know, either way, don't keep that stuff in my head-- but I might be able to recall which NokhSo calendar-year she wuz born in if I spent a little time comparing events.

But I think I'll let that one slide. It ain't important to anyone I know, except those lumber cartel lawyers out to cause Adam all the grief they can possibly stir up.

It wuz daylight when I peeked, so I could make out the different colored doorways. As always, there ware two guards stationed at each doorway, but Da-zinta-hat arranged for them all to be looking up at the ceiling with great interest. I had to look too, wondering just what wuz so interesting up there, then recalled that I wuz spossta find a grey doorway. It wuz at the far end of the big chamber, which Da-zinta-hat confirmed.

It wuz kinda spooky slowly walking past all those armed guards, trusting that not even one of them would notice me passin’ them, but I made it. At the grey doorway I had to squeeze between two guards, having been warmed not to touch them. There warn't much room and they warn't 'zactly holding still. I think they were getting tired of looking up, cause like I said, the view wuz kinda boring.

But then I did a little dance number and wuz inside, I reckon those guards warn't capable of noticing me. But I did take care to make no noise. The chamber wuz not quite as bare as Da-zinta-hat's, there wuz a pile of Alutna batons. Had to wonder if they were his own personal clubs, so that he could hurt folk at a whim? There wuz a bed of freshly-laid pine boughs, primitive but comfortable enough for most Nokhons (but nothing like Da-zinta-hat's big fluffy comfort extravaganza). It wuz also bright and shiny clean, like a palace is s'posta be. So his unused Elder's Chamber wuz being dusted and serviced in case he ever came to town. So it wuzn't abandoned, there could be something recent.

Didn't find no clues 'bout where he might be, but the downstairs chamber wuz his trophy room, and that said a lot about WHO he wuz. Normal Nokhons got no concept of display shelves, but Da-starda-hat had piled up various-sized boulders to make presentation stands for his special prizes. Most were some form of weapon: wooden swords, stone spearheads, crystalline-knuckles; all deliberately designed to hurt people. All of it forbidden skesk. For a Nokhon, that's plumb arrogant, so this detailed display meant something to him, part of his ego. I moved around through it.

And there it wuz, on its own pedestal right in front of me: the Colt .45 revolver I'd procured for him over 75 years ago. Plus two 50-round boxes of bullets, one opened, both cartons faded with time and falling apart, bullets rusty. But the pistol didn't look so good neither: rusted to a dark brown. Da-starda-hat didn't know how to maintain a gun, so it hadn't been oiled or wiped down in all them years. Looked like it'd gotten wet about 20 years back, maybe whilst he brought it over from Aket to Shamballah and mayhaps he'd never dried it. I tried to spin the barrel, but it wuz rusted solid, frozen, couldn't even wiggle the trigger nor pull the hammer back. The bullets in those boxes wuz rusted too, maybe dangerous to use. I reckoned that wuz a good thing: Dastardat couldn't never use it like that and he didn't know how to fix it.

But I knew how: a little oil and polishing, could be good as new. I'd grown up with noisekillers, fought a war using them. Killed with them. Not that I wanted to kill anyone, not even Da-starda-hat. But he is a dangerous sumbitch, with all his consarned Syssk trickery-- it might just come to that.

So I'm a-thinkin: should I take it? If Da-starda-hat comes back to the palace and finds his noisekiller gone, he might just have all of Shamballah searched, and that could cause us some misery. Or it could be discovered missing next time by whoever dusted the chamber. The gun wuz safe 'nuff there, bein' useless and all, but purty risky to steal. Altho really, it wuz my own property: Dastardat had never paid me for it. So it wouldn't even be stealing, altho he might not see it that way.

The last time I'd fired a pistol wuz in 1945: this very same Colt.45 revolver; testing it before I took it to Aket and delivering it to Dastardat, like a silly fool. I'd fired off six shots, since it wuz a six-shooter, and the pistol worked perfect then. But Dastardat couldn' fit his finger into the trigger guard and he couldna use it... so far's I knowed. I counted the bullets remaining: 93. Okay, he'd fired it once, or someone had. Guess that skeered him 'nuff.

But even if'n I did take it, it woudn' do me no good unless I could find some kinda machine oil, which wuz basically no-such-thing in the Nokhon world. I could ask Da-zinta-hat 'bout that, but reckoned it wuz smarter to leave the pistol where it wuz for now. Come back for it later mayhaps.

I tried to send a telepathy-message to Da-zinta-hat, that I needed to go past the guards again. Not that I had any way to tell if'n I'd got thru to him, until I heard all the guards out in the major chamber take a deep breath and then hold it. I took a chance and peeked out to see that they all had their eyes closed, so I scampers back to my hidey-place without never getting seen.

I 'splained what I needed to Da-zinta-hat, even tho there ain't no word in Nokhontli for "lubricating oil". But he's an "officially wise" man and told me "yak butter". Not that he had any, but the Tibetan monks over in another part of Shamballah did, they used it for their butter lamps. I could go there, it warn't so far away.