The Wild Ba’Neesh Chapter Twenty ©2019 Fay Thompson All Rights Reserved

Mick had found a semi-comfortable position sitting on the decking with his back up against one of the walls while all of the upper level discussion was taking place. Most of what was said was too hard to follow so he focused on finding clean socks in his backpack because he had managed to realize Elias was carrying his pack and for unknown reasons it was essential he keep it for himself. It looked strangely packed. He knew himself to be a stuff and go kind of person rather than a fold, roll and pack. Why did he have so many clothes with him, enough to make the pack bulge?

He paused to open both his mother’s water jug and a nut bar. He was starving. The silver film didn’t feel right and he struggled with pulling his socks on straight. Why bother with clean ones when his skin was not right? He continued anyway as more and more people descended the main ladder to first pause, then be directed somewhere by Elias or Brad. Rojer, stood too close and brandished a stunner, fully charged too. Mick managed to seal his boots on. They looked old-school style with visible laces but those were fake, they actually sealed with self-healing closures making the boot fit properly. He felt better when he had both on. As he reached over intending to repack his backpack he saw that there was a large oddly lumpy bag in the bottom taking up all of the room.

He pressed open its closure and peeked inside, only to sit back abruptly and glance around, hoping no one had seen his reaction. There were bones in there. The thought activated a memory stream in his mind, one with him digging up these bones in a graveyard. He rubbed at the pain in his head and gaped at his own memory. That memory attached to another memory, one of him squatting at some stones putting the bones in his pack, without the new bag. Dirty bones. And, then a third memory of repacking his pack in ritual form, every bone exactly in its place. He reached up to find the string dangling around his neck. It had been there when he woke up, a small bone necklace. He had ignored it, his mind too screwed up to focus on a necklace.

He resealed the inner bag and carefully laid his clothing in on top. The string of memories hurt, as if they pushed on other nerves and connections in a wave of electrical punishment. Mick could sense more memories on all sides, as if they were hunting him. He scowled. Clearly there was something wrong with his memories. They were his, but not exactly his. For some reason every memory had a feeling of Elias attached. He tried to sort out that feeling but it was nebulous. Elias was simply there in his head. Everywhere. Well, he looked up to notice a particular man standing nearby with two uniformed security type guys slightly behind him. They had bundles. This was the guy that tossed his boots down the hatch earlier.

Mick re-sealed his outer pack. It was old-school style too with lots of straps, rings and pockets. He’d found he liked a lot of the old fashion styles and his mom’s clothing maker machine could as easily pattern old-school as current. His mom. He blinked. He found a memory of her but she felt distant, as if layers of stuff like informed experiences was missing. He knew he loved her, but he had no sense of that either. He’d done something and it had got his parents in trouble. His father wasn’t such a big deal, he and Mick never really got on all that well, but his mom, she mattered.

“My mother?” Mick asked the waiting man, noticing a kid that looked close to his own age wearing a peculiar three-quarter length dark robe was following a similarly robed much younger boy down the ladder. Both were wide-eyed and curious.

“Jordy?” the waiting man asked the air, that told Mick the submarine was surveilled. Of course it was surveilled. Still the thought made him uncomfortable.

“We have no new information on Mick’s mother.” A voice came over the intercom. “She appears to still be confined but there is continuing chatter that she was not involved. They are confining her and her partner for her safety from other citizens.”

Mick was back to near total confusion about the mass of words. He couldn’t keep up. His gaze trailed the two younger people and then he saw a kid slightly older than him following them. He had a tight face but really active eyes. They found Mick and instantly Mick knew he would like this kid, narrow tight face or not.

“Mick?” Jeffrey asked again, noticing Mick’s near total distraction. It appeared clear the boy wasn’t tracking well.

“Yeah?” Mick watched Elias direct the younger people down another level, telling them to find bunks. There weren’t any arguments or questions. Why no questions?

“Mick?” Jeffrey knelt down so that he was in Mick’s visual range. “Your mother appears healthy and safe.” He repeated slowly.

Mick nodded. “I should get up. I have boots now so the treads won’t hurt.” He noticed that thinking in the present no longer hurt so bad. It was the memories that hurt. He leaned forward and fumbled with the backpack. He was surprised when it was the stranger who helped him. But, he needed the help and Rojer wasn’t the best helper. The stranger assisted him upright.

“I don’t know you, right? I don’t want to memory search as that is painful and all screwed up and Elias is in there and nothing is right. Memories hurt.” Mick concluded, not really tracking that his conversation was erratic.

“You don’t know me. I am Master Healer Jeffrey Kristo, I am here to help you restabilize your memories and thinking.”

Mick had lost track of the guy’s words after his name. It was a convoluted name. This guy thought he was a master of something. Mick snorted. “Master ha ha.” He said aloud.

Jeffrey grinned, “Everyone calls me Jeffrey.” He said, although that really wasn’t true. He could imagine it needed to be true for Mick.

“My pack is heavy.” Mick announced while reaching up to secure its front strap. “Either I’m weak or it’s extra heavy due to those bones. Why am I carrying bones?”

Jeffrey inhaled a bit. “You are weak. I noticed you eating a protein nut bar. That will help. I believe She is making you carry Her bones.” He continued, saying each word very slowly.

“She? Girl bones.” This made Mick laugh which almost made him fall over. “Figures, never had a date yet, so I dug one up. It’s gross to dig up bones in the middle of the night.” He announced. He was thinking that the bone-digging memory only hurt the first time he recalled it, after that it became part of his real world. Oh, a real world and a painful memory world.

They had started walking along the corridor with Rojer once more stowing his stunner to offer Mick an arm.

“I’m not an invalid, Rojer.” Mick said firmly, “Besides, you are supposed to be guarding or whatever, like Elias sneaking along behind us. This guy Jeffrey will let me lean on him, won’t you?”

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“Yes, I am happy to assist you Mick.” Jeffrey nodded. He was noting the push/pull of negotiating status happening to both Rojer and Elias centered on Mick. It was instructive. Even a damaged Mick was managing nicely.

Elias was struggling, as soon as Mick started to recall something he felt it, not like his own memories but like flashes of imagery, disconnected. He didn’t want this crap in his head. It was intensely distracting and made him stumble.

Mick paused at every doorway to stare into the rooms. On this level the spaces were clearly storage, tightly and efficiently packed. The corridor was a central channel and there were devices on pillars right in the middle of this channel. Right now they seemed dormant, shut down because the submarine was in port. At the third such technical pillar Mick paused and pivoted.

“Elias, what are these things?” He asked.

Elias had noted that with Mick just looking around at all new stuff his own brain wasn’t hearing the kid’s memories. He looked over at the pillar eagerly, having examined the last two in passing. New things. No memory new things.

“This one is a secondary station managing communication. There is an inner part that can go through the hull for a clear signal when the submarine is near the surface.” He felt triumphant in summoning his knowledge. It made him feel less out of control.

Mick scowled at him. “How the fuck did I know that? As soon as you started talking I get these tech thick pictures in my head.”

Jeffrey looked between the two. “And, you Elias?” He asked.

“When he nackers on about memories.” Elias nodded.

“I get nothing.” Rojer announced with a bit of pride.

“You aren’t Ba. Remember?” Jeffrey looked over at Rojer. He could instantly see advantages to having a Soek without Ba. Share, not share. His estimation of Kiena went up.

Elias could see it too. Somehow the connection with Mick made him feel a sense of increasing loyalty toward Mick, while with Rojer, Rojer was still a detached asshat. He blinked. There were clearly positives and negatives to being Ba. He could only hope his disorientation would diminish with experience. The removal of his molcom made this new. If he had experienced it from birth, it wouldn’t feel like this now.

Mick had stepped over to peer up into Elias’ face. “You have my memories in there?” He asked, truly shocked.

“Yeah, you have mine in there?” Elias nodded.

“Shit. My own memories hurt like hell, doesn’t seem fair to have to feel yours too.”

“The molcom blocked the Ba.” Elias said. “If we shared from early this wouldn’t hurt or feel so fucking weird. Right Master Jeffrey?”

“Right.” Jeffrey agreed. “I expect all of the Soek who are Ba will now experience disorientation, cognitive dissonance and a slow reconciliation with this aspect of their nature.”

“Ohhh.” Mick reached up to hold his head. “Fucking word trigger. Soek.” He bent forward. It was clear his memory process was far more painful than that of Elias.

“Breathe, Mick.” Jeffrey ordered. “I have analgesic with me. Elias, fetch his water bottle out of the pack. Oh, and take the pack, you had it earlier.”

Rojer glowered for a moment and then realized with the three of them occupied that placed him in charge of security. He hurried past Elias as that was the likely direction of any pursuers. Being pro-active was a new role for him. It felt good, a little scary being responsible, but still good. He straightened up.

They treated Mick for his growing header. Elias took Mick’s pack which Mick decided was okay since Elias had his memories already too. It was convoluted logic. He didn’t want to think about it, just feel lighter, more able to walk. They headed deeper aft to find the corridor ended at a cross aisle which seemed the same in either direction. They went right and after walking another dozen feet hit a left hand corner. Just past that corner the top of the hull curved overhead exposing a tight hanger holding a sleek six-man floater. “Wow” The four of them said together.

“I bet this sub has mini-subs too and likely a hydrofoil hidden as well.” Elias said, reaching out to touch the sleek lines of the floater. “Bet this is armed too.”

“You would be correct.” Jordy’s voice said through Elias’ wrist com.

“Looks bad ass.” Mick acknowledged. Then he frowned, more memories plowing into his head. “Cripes. Are the weapons on this crate as lame-ass as those on that other floater, Thorne?” He yelled out.

“Yes, Mick Huxley. I haven’t magically improved the weapons in the last day.” Thorne’s tired voice came over Elias’ wrist com.

“Fuck.” Mick was back to leaning weakly on the wall, staring at the floater, his head full of sequences. “Fuckity fuck. I killed people. Fuck!”

“I did too.” Elias said, reaching over to put his hand on Mick’s shoulder in comfort.

“I wanted to.” Rojer announced, unreasonably jealous. “I got off a few good shots in that air battle.”

“Shut up, Rojer.” Elias said, glaring at Rojer.

“Jeffrey. I know I shot people, why don’t I feel really bad about doing it, you know, ethically fucked up and shit?” Mick asked.

“Likely you treated it like a game.” Jeffrey had watched the vids of the battles like everyone else. “That made it less real. You may have a delayed reaction. Or, you could be built to absorb battle engagements. Some people are. Some Ba’Neesh certainly are.”

“A game. Right.” Mick agreed. “I’m good at games.” Mick rubbed at his face as if he could massage his own brain. The initial pain of the memories was fading, storing. He took another deep breath. So, memory equaled pain, then process, then recovery. “Ba’Neesh like to fight.” He announced, it didn’t feel like a memory full of pain. He puzzled over the difference.

“I think we should find the submarines control center.” Mick straightened. Weak as shit or not, there was a pressure inside of him, urging him to explore, to understand. He looked over and saw it echoing in Elias and even Rojer. He paused while looking at Jeffrey, something about that topside conversation came back to him. This man volunteering to come into the sub.

“You volunteered.” He said to Jeffrey. “She took you.” The second part hurt hard but he was better prepared now, expected it even. He let the pain wash through, then the memory opened up like a flower. She. Kiena. False name. Neeshatari. He was Soek, Ba’Soek, the stupid Soek. At the end of the memory stream he grinned, he wasn’t alone, Elias grinned too. Shared knowledge.

Mick returned to looking at Jeffrey. “We sleepshared, Elias and I. Tonight, all of the Soek aboard, including you, we will all sleepshare. Her taking is only an alignment. It doesn’t swallow our personalities. Our Ba, it won’t negate that either but we will act like a single organism in our own defense. The many hands of the collective mind.”

“Welcome back, Mick.” A new voice came through the com.

“Mael Strom, right?” Mick bent over in the wash of pain but breathed through it. “The Turtle. I met you. Do you feel it too?” He asked.

“Something approaching?” Mael answered thoughtfully, “Yes. Tonight we sleepshare together, all of Citadel. Well, except for Rojer and a few humans. A failsafe. Intriguing. So, go explore the control center, they are waiting for you. Brad’s already there checking things out. Apparently, She needed a submarine.”

“We need better weapons, Mael. Better Vrill-based weapons.” Mick said. “Thorne doesn’t really want to hear me. Maybe after I sleepshare with him.” Mick laughed. “Do you think we will all inherit a bit of his arrogance?”

“We have apparently contracted your penchant for obscenity speech.” Mael answered. “I haven’t heard or used the word ‘fuck’ so much in my life as in the last two days.”

Mick laughed. “No prune mouth here.” He acknowledged.

The small group was moving back along the central corridor, a little faster this time as there wasn’t anything new to see and Elias was carrying Mick’s pack. The Control Center was actually down a level, on the same main floor as the Infirmary. This time Mick managed the stairs without sore feet.

They were greeted at the base of the stairs by four more men in uniform. This time Mick noticed that all of the insignias were like Rojer’s. OrderSec. The word came out of an Elias mental fragment. Order-born. All Soek. That told Mick that some of the DireSec operatives were human. He puzzled over the distinctions. How did being Soek born change a person in terms of crewing a submarine? The OrderSec team dropped in behind them. Mick shrugged. He had no weapon, he could barely walk without stumbling and his mind was one fucked up mess. Whatever.

(Mick has found his boots. I am enjoying writing about these characters and what they are experiencing. I hope you like it too. See you tomorrow with the next chapter.)