Magga and I stayed in Aket for over a month, what with studying healing, virtual flames and various other courses of Nokhon magic. I also needed to expand my familiarity with the Atli, verses and interpretations, not because I was a devout believer but so that I could argue my position against those religious fanatics who were. We spent one celibate kha-rat there (Monday, 5th of January), but we had become so accustomed to being casually neutral with each other by then that we hardly suffered at all. We packed as much as possible into our time there, since we would probably not come back to Aket for another half year. I had commitments in the NokhSo world: also having studies to attend at the University of Washington in Seattle; the Nokhon Nation Project was going to be requiring some input on my part as "Ambassador" and Squatch & Friends was planning an extensive concert tour around the USA. The Real World was demanding a share of my time. Magga could have stayed on in Squatchland a while longer, but she felt that the life she shared with me and our NokhSo friends was interesting and important. Like me, she wanted both worlds. And she wanted to be with me. That she was one of four wives was no problem for her as long as I made love to her at least once a day-- or maybe twice. Dambaraggan decided to remain in Aket for the time being. He had some oration students he was interested in, although he treated them as nastily as he had me back when he was my teacher. Just his style, I guess. He promised to rejoin us at the Hacienda when the weather got warmer. I visited Da-nama-hat to say goodbye for now and ask if there was any news about our friends on expedition to Shamballah, but all telepathic communications to-and-from the Himalayas seemed to be still on the fritz. But there was another order of business Da-nama-hat wanted me to help him with of before I departed from Aket. It would take us most of a day. Ma-ralla(-hata), the evil old bitch who had been Da-starda-hat's most loyal agent and had been acting Alutna-Jii in Daklakht's absence, was asking to meet with Da-nama-hat and me. She had been exiled from Aket since the revolution, having been a cruel administrator who was hated by one and all. Many Nokhons wished to put her into the dark pits under the city, as she had done to so many others. But the current Three Elders did not have the mean streak necessary to be as cruel as she had been, so she was only thrown out of town and told not to come back. But she's about 130 years old and has lived the last half of her life in the comforts and privileges of the Nokhon city, now back out in the elements, eking out a hard existence the same way most Nokhons have to: gathering food, sleeping in nature. But she was old and cold and soft after living inside so long. The wild Bigfoot life was very hard for her, so now she was petitioning to be allowed back into Aket, promising to stay out of politics. It was easy to find her, camping just outside the tunnel entrance, from whence she had refused to go away. The tunnel guards told us where we could find her. It's not easy going in and out of Aket: all those steps up to the exit chamber, then the long dark tunnel that leads outside, it took us at least three hours the one way. Which I was begrudging because I'd have to repeat the same trip when Magga and I left in a couple of days. And to do it for someone I disliked as much as that nasty old female... well, of course I did it for Da-nama-hat, not her. It was snowing when we went out from the tunnels to meet her. Ma-ralla-hata was standing alone in the forest, Aket's guards having chased her away from whatever shelter the cave entrance would have provided. She was still as ugly as ever, monstrously tall and shaggy with long tangled salt & pepper hair, no longer pampered and brushed by the cadre of young and pretty sex-slaves she had commanded to serve her. We could see how the mighty had fallen, but then again, she deserved it. Now she was trying to be humble, but was not very good at it, seeming unable to speak without issuing commands and criticisms. "You have kept me waiting out here long enough!" Da-nama-hat called her on that immediately, "And we can keep you waiting forever, Ma-ralla," deliberately omitting the "-hata" suffix of female authority to her name as reminder that she no longer had any power over us. Well, over me-- Da-nama-hat had always been her equal as an Elder of The Three --but me she had treated like dirt. Now she was demanding that I specifically come to her, saying she had some information about me that she wished to barter for being allowed to return to Aket. "You asked to see me, Madam?" I addressed her politely. It seemed to help, she also attempted to be civil, something she had never done while in office as the acting Alutna-Jii. "Ra, gno Dadamet. I am willing to reveal the truth about how your mother died. But for that I wish to be allowed back into Aket. It is too cold out here for a poor old female like me." "The problem is that we do not trust you, madam," Da-nama-hat was not falling for the poor little old me line, "you are loyal to Da-starda-hat and he is our enemy." "Loyal no longer, he is also now my enemy!" she insisted. "Serving him has brought me to this miserable condition. He has kept me under his psychic domination for most of my life, but now I am rejecting his commands, as you have done. That is not easy to do-- Da-starda-hat is ferocious and he protects his authority." I also doubted that she could be trusted, but could hear that she was not lying. I was interested in whatever story she had to tell, of course. "You are saying that Da-starda-hat was directly responsible for my mother's death?" "It was not Mayala who was to die-- that was a blunder --the truth is that Da-starda-hat wanted to possess Mayala as one of his concubines, certainly not to kill her. But he opposed the Negotiator Project and the easiest way to stop it was by eliminating the child who had been bred over generations to become the actual Negotiator Himself: that would be You." "But how can he have arranged the attack?" I wondered, "My mother was shot by a random passing NokhSo hunter with a noisekiller, there is no way Da-starda-hat could have communicated any commands to him." "I say no more until I am allowed into Aket." Da-nama-hat said, "I shall leave that up to Dadamet." That was a surprise to me: suddenly Ma-ralla had become my responsibility, since I would be required to guarantee her good behavior within Aket. Not that she was anyone I'd trust, she'd always been a dedicated enemy. But I wanted to hear her story. She could always be exiled again and I didn't think she'd murder anyone, so I bobbed my head to Da-nama-hat and said to Ma-ralla-whatever, "Okay, I'll take a chance on you."
MA-RALLA tells her tale -- Dadamet, you must understand that Dastardat has intended to sabotage the Negotiator Project since long before you or even your mother was born. The entire concept of a peaceful coexistence between Nokhon and NokhSo is at odds with his strategy for complete mastery of the Nokhon world. Truth be told, his plan calls for the complete ruination of all NokhSo civilization. "Nullifying all their skesk is the easiest way," Dastardat told me, "to shift the balance of power away from those wretched little hairless runts, to the advantage of our far more physically powerful Nokhon race. Take away the subhuman's technological tricks and they are pathetic weaklings. Indeed, my ultimate goal is to take away their lands as well, kick them off the continents, let them drown." Although another favorite plan was to make them slaves. Actually, Dastardat was quite obsessed about humans back then, saying, "Nokhons should not be hiding from those evil runts, creeping through our own forests to avoid being slaughtered by their noisekillers, but to enslave them and make them grow food for us." So he was eager to eliminate The Negotiator, whoever that might be and whenever he or she might finally exist. But it was frustrating for him that this doomed Negotiator could not be killed at once. He'd first have to wait for it to be born. Dastardat has always been ready to murder anyone in his way, but not even an Alutna-jii may kill people without consequence. Nowadays he considers himself untouchable, but back when we were all younger he was still concerned about being caught for his crimes. He could be exiled, or cast into the pits. Or much worse. Because murdering The Negotiator would be sabotaging the plans of not only the Three Elders of Aket but also The Ultimate Nine of Shamballah. They would investigate on a planetary level, telepathically, and therefore quickly know who was guilty. If the crime was considered serious enough-- and murdering their designated Negotiator painstakingly bred over generations certainly would be --they had the power to wield a psychic punishment that would burn his brains and leave him without intelligence. Murder is rarely his first option: he prefers to subjugate an opponent with his powers of psychic domination, casting a syssk to take control of his victim's mind. Turning an enemy into his slave has always been more aesthetically satisfying for him. But he cannot do that to everyone; some Nokhs simply have more psychic authority than himself, such as our noble Elder Da-nama-hat. Nor could he ignore the collective consciousness of the Three Elders of Aket when they convened, they would know all about whatever he had done. So he has perfected the art of sending syssk-infected slaves off to do his dirty deeds. Such as me. Someone who could not remember what his instructions had been; nor who had instructed him. So he pondered, probably enjoying the challenge, and decided the perfect assassin would be a NokhSo with a noisekiller. One of those hunting accidents you hear about once in a while. No possible connection to Dastardat, since there's no way a Nokhon could explain to a NokhSo what to do. He was already familiar with Dawalas, the NokhSo trader, so he knew some things about the NokhSo world from their discussions. He found the human trader interesting and tried to dominate Dawalas as he had others, but the little white man's mind was so foreign, so slippery, that he couldn't program him effectively. So he decided to find another human to experiment with, one who had no previous contact with Nokhon society. He sent me upon that mission. At that time I had only been an Alutna agent for a season-cycle and was still quite young and innocent, Dastardat was Alutna-jii of Aket and I was hysterically dedicated to serving him. I had impressed him with how strong and loyal a female agent could be. Of course, he had secretly used his powers of psychic domination to make me even more loyal, it's only now while I am free of his influence that I've been able to realize that I too had been turned into one of those mind-slaves he likes to have around. But still, I was proud to be his only real confidant in the defiance of the Negotiator Project. Perhaps I should apologize to you about that... but no, I won't, since I still think we were doing the right thing. So I went out to capture some random NokhSo male and found one alone on a camping trip. I was afraid of those horrible little creatures, with their noisekillers and their wicked skesk, but I had my orders. I found that he was much more afraid of me than I of him. He was small and easy to tuck under my arm and run away with. I took him to a secret cave/pit just outside Aket, where only Dastardat and I would know about him. Dastardat visited him in the dark pit, tried to communicate, but the language barrier was insurmountable, even though he knew a few words of the yellow NokhSos who live near the High White Mountains. The man was terrified and probably feared we would eat him. He never got over his fear. We tried to feed him, gave him water, plenty of nettles and thistles to eat, but he became sick and died of something, probably fear and cold. I took his corpse out into the woods far away from Aket and left it to be found by his own people. He was the first of several, all of whom died. They are just so frail, those little NokhSos. Finally we found the boy. He had been camping with two adult males, they were hunting some poor sakili (deer) with their ruthless noisekillers. I had observed them for a day in the forest and saw how the boy could ruthlessly point his horrible noisekiller at a defenseless animal and murder it. His motions were precise and efficient, skilled at killing, everything in good balance. He was perfect! Just what my master wanted. Dastardat had taught me how to use a syssk to make a NokhSo sleep. The boy never even saw me, not until he awoke in our little secret prison. We kept him there for a moon-cycle (a month). It was disappointing that our previous prisoners had to die, but they had been instrumental in learning how to apply psychic domination on this young NokhSo without killing him. For example, avoiding the problem of language by telepathically communicating instructional visuals instead of Nokhontli words. That appeared to work, although we could not be certain that the boy actually understood his instructions. After a month of telepathic image programming Dastardat wiped the boy's memory of his time with us and allowed him to go free, since it would all be for nothing if he just died like the others. But that boy was now infected with a dormant syssk that would first be obeyed much later. (Let's call it a post-hypnotic suggestion.) Dastardat wanted a murder done, but not yet: someday the Negotiator would be bred and born, a helpless child. If this alien NokhSo boy did the killing there would be no way to trace it back to any Nokh, specifically Dastardat. He couldn't be held responsible for what some random NokhSo hunter had done, they were notoriously aggressive, shooting everything in sight with their wicked noisekillers. Not even Dastardat comprehended that it would take so many season-cycles before the syssk he had put into the boy would be activated. During that time Dastardat could occasionally tune in on the boy's psychic presence, via the telepathic image-link that had been established back at first contact, and check that his future assassin was at least still alive. That young boy matured into a dominant male, became a soldier for the NokhSo authorities, got involved in a skesk war: physical danger at it's very worst! Surviving traumatic horrors, all the time becoming ever better at killing people. Dastardat was almost proud of his little runt assassin, although the actual pride was dedicated to himself for being so clever a strategic genius. Many seasons passed, a generation. Then Mayala was bred to bare you, Dadamet, the potential Negotiator Himself. So now my master knew who to kill, but was constrained by the presence of Daklakht, the Alutna agent who loved Mayala and would protect her. They had always been bitter antagonists, Daklakht one of the few Nokhons whom my master Dastardat actually feared. So he assigned him a mission to Shamballah to get him out of the way, I'm sure you've heard about all of that. So you were born and lived with your mother for almost two season-cycles before Mayala was instructed to take her child to a place to meet a young NokhSo couple in family with Dawalas the NokhSo trader. You were to be loaned to them and raised as a NokhSo, ostensibly to learn their language and customs, to become as much like one of them as a Nokhon could. I admit that I was under Dastardat's domination in those days and simply had to accept whatever command he dictated, however even today I feel a vast disgust for doing that to any Nokhon child. Such a violation of Atli! Such a break with morality! The NokhSos are our natural enemies, why sacrifice one of our innocent children to them? It was suddenly time for my master to enact his brilliant long-strategy plan and I was hardly reluctant to do my part for the sake of the Nokhon world. It would be a kindness to kill the child if it saved him from a horrible life among that demonic race. Now comes the part you know nothing about. From within the mountain of Aket, Dastardat projected his telepathic power outward to the world in search of the aura of the syssk he had planted in a NokhSo boy so many season-cycles before, wherever that now-grown boy was currently located. It had been a risk that he might have gone off to live in some far-away place after so long a time, neither of us understood why NokhSos live as they do. In fact he had, spending several season-cycles on the other side of the world, but he had also returned by then. Dastardat's genius still prevailed. Timing was critical, we had to arrange for our syssk-controlled NokhSo and his noisekiller to be somewhere along the path your mother would take to meet the Nokhso family. We dared not make our move until you had left the protection of the Elders of Aket, but had no way of knowing where your destination among the NokhSos might be. And once you were inside a bakhl in one of their ghastly cities who knew what atrociously frightening skesk-powered defenses they might have to unleash against us? We needed to strike before you arrived. The arrangements for sending you to the NokhSos were kept secret, only the current Three Elders and Dawalasat the trader were supposed to know when, where and even IF the delivery would transpire. But Dastardat was Alutna-jii and thus could often be in near proximity to the Three Elders. And being a powerful telepath, he learned what he needed to know. Mayala was to meet Dawalasat the trader on the way. I knew most of Dawalasat's trade routes, for I had been assigned to follow him around back when he had first come into our Nokhon society. Dastardat wanted to know about all the contraband he was transporting, but of course I could not follow him into the NokhSo towns and cities without being seen myself, which would have been unwise. So I had never found his bakhl, wherever it was. Just before Mayala left with you, I intercepted Dawalasat on his trade route, sneaking up from behind, rendering him unconscious with a little syssk so that he never registered seeing me. While he was entranced I tried to make him tell me where Mayala should be meeting him, but couldn't get any usable information, just mumbles. So I carried him to our secret cave/pit without informing anyone. Dastardat had to come and use his own more potent syssks to learn that Dawalasat should meet you and Mayala in a large open meadow on the brink of the forest, just before the NokhSo skesk-trails cut the land apart and those frightening speed-bakhls rolled to and fro. We discussed killing him, in case he might one day remember being interrogated, but my master decided not to: he sometimes found the trader's contraband useful. Mayala was supposed to meet Dawalasat at that meadow, so she took you and left the Nokhon world, never to be seen again by family or friends. Or by me, I was not to follow her but returned to Aket, where both Dastardat and I could be clearly seen by everyone. If anything tragic should happen to the Negotiator we had our alibis. As you know, the plan failed, everything went wrong. It was you who was supposed to die, not Mayala. Our hunter-assassin met you along the way, as planned, but he shot the wrong Nokhon. We don't know why, the telepathic link was only one way and only images that may have been distorted and misinterpreted by a NokhSo's tiny mind. It seemed there were too many random variables; another unexpected Nokhon male interfered with our hunter-assassin's mission, then local NokhSo authorities became involved, until there was too much traffic. And somehow you ended up with that same young couple as intended, as if your destiny was unavoidable. But Dastardat did not give up: a few days later Dastardat tried to re-activate his hunter-assassin, to make him finish the mission within the NokhSo society, but the subject rejected the commands. Perhaps there were social complications. Later Dastardat managed to transfer the syssk into the assassin's own son and it seems that he did carry out the assignment-- but you survived anyway. I can see that grey spot in the hair on your chest, I assume it was once a noisekiller wound.
ADAM continues his narration -- It was hard to feel any sort of benevolence towards Ma-ralla after hearing her story, she had admitted doing deliberate damage to me and my mother, hell, even to Felix and Peter Sinsley. Not to mention casually causing the deaths of several unnamed human victims. Not one word of apology, what a bitch! "How can you think I'd want to sponsor your re-admission to Aket? You've been nothing but a pestilence in my life, a True Enemy!" "Perhaps so, but I was not responsible for those actions, having been Da-starda-hat's slave. The same goes for that NokhSo who killed Mayala (who would be Felix Sinsley). And his syssk-infected son who had shot you (being Peter Sinsley). And yourself when you assaulted both father and son; Daklakht may have physically infected you but it was originally Dastardat's syssk. He crushes all ethics and moral, his will is irresistible; we have all been leaves in the wind against him." "It seems you are still proud of having been his agent," I accused her indignantly, "you offer no apologies for all the evil you have done for him." "Because I still fear his return. That is why I do not apologize; I may have to answer to him again." "Well, right now you have to answer to me," I say, sounding arrogant even to myself. "You... you said I could come home to Aket if I told my story." She suddenly looked scared, cold, a little old lady-- okay, nine feet tall, but kinda old and feeble anyway. A tear ran down her cheek, her hands were shaking. Talking like a baby, "...but... but you said..." I thought, should I make her beg? She deserves it. Then I looked over at Da-nama-hat: serene, calm, a perfect guru looking back at me. Waiting for me to decide the fate of this nasty old lady. And I knew the answer to my unasked question: No, I should not make her beg. No matter how shitty she's been to me I don't want to sink to her level, for my own sake. "It's true," I acquiesced, "I did say I'd take a chance on you. So I'd better keep my word. You may return to the general population of Aket, but not to your old chambers, nor shall you command servants, you must live like everyone else. Is that acceptable?" "As long as I can be warm." She looked so relieved it was almost like an apology. I bobbed my head, but refrained from saying "welcome home".
Ma-ralla accompanied us back to Aket's big chamber. We even conversed politely along the way. Da-nama-hat told her where she could live, in one of the usually empty rooms on the lower level so that she could be near the nettle garden, but a good distance from Alutna Headquarters or the Town Square, hardly a status address. Actually, nothing is very far away from anywhere else in Aket, it's a dinky town. A lot more compact than Monroe, for example and housing is really not a problem for squatches used to sleeping out in nature, even in winter. Probably a third of Aket's "bedrooms" are almost always empty, since the population is not as big as it was a few thousand years ago. Magga was not surprised to see that I had allowed Ma-ralla back into Aket, she knew I was a big softie. Nor was she impolite to the nasty old bitch, even though they had been in disaccord many times when Ma-ralla was Alutna-jii. I'm always glad to note that Magga is definitely not a bitch, but a genuine Good Person. Like all my ladies. We had finished up our time in Aket over the last few days, taking what could correspond to "final exams" in the "university" we'd been attending. I did one last concert of songs in Nokhontli at the Town Square just for fun, Dambaraggan and I did a little comedy routine, which was a hit with the locals and the next morning we were off. I had come to Aket with a guitar, having had several extras made for me, since I was a pro now. So I left it and several sets of strings semi-hidden in Daklakht's chambers, to make sure I always had a guitar to play while visiting Aket. My plan is to bring one more each trip, so that I can eventually teach other Nokhs to play them, but I can only bring one each time. It's definitely contraband, so I have to be kind of sneaky about it, a truckload of guitars would only cause another revolution. The trip through the tunnels was a recent repetition for me but Magga and I did it somewhat quicker than I could with Da-nama-hat, at a brisk jog. Partly to make it less boring but also because we were eager to get outside of Aket's half-gloomy subterranean chamber and into some fresh air and sunlight. There is another way out of Aket via underwater streams, but it's pretty dangerous and only used in emergencies, better not to chance it too often. When we finally came out of the tunnels we stepped into a rainstorm, not so much sunlight but lots of fresh air. Violently fresh; strong winds, thrashing trees. We tried to step up our pace but it was difficult to run through that storm, even for squatches like us. Although, yes, we had sex anyway, free of Aket's restrictions at last after so long. Very soggy sex in the mud, but we squatches are a hardy breed. We'd planned to take an alternative route through the Cascades to Monroe, just in case someone saw us in passing, trying not to establish a pattern that would lead any squatch-watchers toward Aket's location. But there was nobody out there in that storm and we wanted to get out of it too, so we bee-lined it home. Once we were in the established Nokhon Nation Access Corridor we could relax about being observed, but we never met anyone at all until we were on the outskirts of Index, Washington. . We came out of the woods onto Highway 2 and hitchhiked the rest of the way home. You'd think it would be hard for two sasquatches to hitch a ride, but everybody in that area knew exactly who we were: many cars stopped to talk with us, sometimes 3-4 at a time. But we had to wait for an empty pickup truck so that we could get in back, us being half a ton of squatch, but once we got a ride they delivered us directly to the Hacienda. We arrived around noon, suddenly locked into civilization's time and schedules. Art and Elaine were home, Pokey was teaching English to a class of recently arrived Nokhs, but Melly, Lissandra and Maki were together at the UW in Seattle. My cell phone was in my bedroom, so I called Mel's phone and told her we were back. Happy squeals, what fun! They came back early, all together in the Hacienda's van. We did a dinner, of course, Hacienda Party food instead of those everyday nettles and thistles we'd been eating for the last month in Aket. Art called Doug and I called Felix and Peter Sinsley: I had to tell them about Ma-ralla's disclosures concerning them. Magga was also glad to be back. Maybe I shouldn't squeal on her, but she had some favorite cop shows on TV. She and Masnia usually watched them together, inventing their own translations. Sometimes we'd watch them just to hear how they had interpreted them; it usually got pretty funny. It was Monday the 2nd of February, two days before the next kha-rat. We were all supposed to be celibate and wait, but that didn't work out so well.
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