001 the elder at sea

8/8/2019 001 the Elder at Sea

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001 The Elder at Sea

There are better ways of travelling to be sure. And this trip could be a lot better, even for a vintage

Tubalon frigate, but this was his choice. Kaivee High Elder Bahtid makes it a point to travel incognito

whenever he could, even on no, especially on an important official event as this one.

Apex, the Kaivee Central Council, has always had High Elders like himself on the shortlist of Apex

Securitys Elite Guard Priority.

Like all previous times Rurok Kizon, head of Apex, persuaded Bahtid to bring along his Elite Guard

detail.

Bahtid Gat, insisted Kizon, we need you safe and sound on the day of the ceremony. I think I

dont need to explain how important this event is to Apex and to the Kaivee as a whole.

I understand Rurok, Bahtid replied with a bow to his superior, who quite frankly was young enough

to be his son, I understand and appreciate Apexs concern for my safety. But Ive always preferred

travelling alone and not drawing attention to myself with all that pomp and pageantry.

That can be arranged, well send the guards along with you out of uniform and on a commercial

transport if you wish. They wont be in your way I promise.

No, the elder smiled shaking his head, they will be in my way, he said putting a slightly heavier

stress on will, even being out of uniform cannot disguise all that military discipline. Ive seen how they

stand and walk, its like they always have plank stuck to their backs.

This of course was the truth. The Elite guards were trained in all things military and then trained to

perfection thrice over that their occupation seeps through even in the cleverest of disguises; backs too

straight, movements too precise, clothing too perfect, down to the littlest button and speech too polite.

I see, said Kizon matter-of-factly, you leave me no choice then High Elder. Send them in, the

Kizon called to a person outside his office door.

Two young men entered the Ruroks office through heavy dark green wooden doors. The Apexs

silver crest glinted into view as the doors swung inwards. They filed at attention in front of the large desk

as the doors quietly shut.

Bahtid briefly shook his head, and raised a hand to his forehead, rested his elbow on the Ruroks table

and gave a slight chuckle.

You have certainly given this much thought Rurok, sighed the old man in resignation, I had the

feeling you wouldnt take no for an answer.

Forgive me dear Gat, but you wouldnt be you if you didnt refuse.

True, and you wouldnt be you if you didnt insist.

Then we have an understanding? Rurok Kizon grinned from behind his desk.


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Absolutely, Bahtid smiled back.

That was two days ago and yesterday morning he got rid of them during the boarding call. He made

his escorts wait behind as he confirmed his accommodations. The guards were confident of his return

after all he left them his trunk which was quite heavy. It was after twenty minutes that they finally

decided to make an investigation of the old mans delay. The sterner of the two guards ordered the junior

to have a look around.

Grudgingly, since they were actually of the same rank, the guard asked a woman at the concierge

which exit to take to board the ship bound for the Loovimine Peninsula. The womans face turned into a

slight frown and then replied that the boat already left ten minutes earlier. The guards face drained of

color as he slowly took two steps back and then bolted into a full run to his partner, he stopped abruptly

turning once to thank the lady, and then ran again.

How could he have left? asked the man in who was left behind guarding the trunk earlier. You

mean to tell me that he preferred to leave his clothes and other effects, here with us just so he can get

away? he said in disbelief and stopped.

The guards exchanged quick glances and set the trunk right side up to open it. They stared at the

contents for some moments, wide eyed and open mouthed as they saw bundles upon bundles of official

documents, tied and classified into neat parcels. On top of the pile there was a note and to their further

astonishment, it was addressed to them.

Thank you for staying behind and keeping my filing trunk safe. I meant to bring that tothe office for the longest time now, but as you can see, all this is too heavy for me. I couldnt

get taking it to the office. Anyway I planned to travel light and the shipping line I availed of

has a free pick up service for valued passengers, so naturally I had mine picked up yesterday

and had it pre-sent to my cabin.

Make sure you dont lose those files, theyre due for archiving and the Apex clerks have

been on my case for weeks.

Thanks to his resourcefully sly wit, he was now enjoying the relative solitude on this rickety

anachronistic wooden vessel. He smiled in satisfaction once again remembering his fine idea. But as

quickly as it came his smile vanished. He remembered how tenacious Rurok Kizon is.

He would probably have the escorts waiting for me onshore as soon as I disembark, he thought. They

would have used private flyers to head him off at the port.

Still, all the better reason for choosing to sail than fly, this way hed have what he likes to call,

enforced relaxation. No matter how anyone complained, even if they tried to call his communicator,


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which he left, there would be no way to rush this delightfully relaxing cruise. At least hell have two more

days of this, might as well enjoy it.

Of all the decks on this marvelously rustic ship, the galley was the area that he disliked most. Truth be

told, the furniture was elegantly detailed, the noise minimal and the service was impeccable. It was the

harsh yellow light cast by the fire of the oil lamps that he really didnt care for. They really fit the

ambiance and design of the galley to be sure, but his Kaivee sky blue skin took on a slightly sickening

green tinge.

Would that be all sir? asked his food attendant as she leaned towards him pointing to the empty pot

of Hapo Blue Tea.

Another pot perhaps, he said quickly, now looking at her direction as he was called out of his

random musings. Your brew is excellent, very authentic. Tell me do you have a Kaivee employed among

the kitchen staff?

No sir, she replied softly as she picked up the empty pot. In fact youre the only one Ive seen on

this trip. That was true he didnt find another Kaivee on the trip either. May I sir? she gestured politely

to pick up the empty cup and saucer as she cleaned up his table using a cloth she drew from her service

apron.

Certainly, Baahtid replied, your service really is quite

Before he could finish his sentence the attendant absentmindedly swatted the cup. She was too

stunned to make any move except to follow the fall of the expensive cup with her eyes. Surprisingly there

was no tinkling of shattered porcelain, instead the cup gingerly rested on the old mans foot.

The womans face changed expressions from shock to relief, as the prospect of price of the cup being

taken form her pay quickly flashed through her mind. She opened her mouth to thank the Elder but he

brought an index finger to his lips gesturing for her not to say anything adding a dismissive wave to make

sure she got the message.

After making certain that no one was looking their way, Baahtid deftly snatched the cup and returned

it to the table without a sound.

Dugsahl sir! she whispered heavily.

Youre welcome miss he let his voice trail off, cuing her to fill in the rest of the sentence with her

name.

At first she craned her neck, copying Baahtids raised eyebrows expression. When she finally

understood she straightened up and replied, Apologies sir, attendants may not give their names to

passengers.

Are you serious? Baahtid asked, the tone of incredulity obvious in his voice.


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Yes sir, she answered again, it was now her turn to return his tone and expression, she too had a

look of surprise at his not knowing the policy.

But thats absurd, Baahtid declared unable to contain his disbelief. How do I call for you if I need

to be waited on?

You dont sir, she responded flatly, You signal.

Signal?

Yes sir, signal, you know, the attendant gesticulated in the air, a snap, a whistle, a click of the

tongue or a knock on the table. One of us will respond. She tilted her head to point to the direction of the

other attendants.

Baahtid looked where she indicated, and it was only now that he noticed and only now that it all made

sense to him.

His attendant and the others she referred to were all of the same gray tinge of skin. Unlike himself the

flickering light of the torches did not make the attendants look unnatural, they simply looked like darker

skinned Tubalons.

They were in fact of the Wakusavdt. They belong to a proud race, hardy but most of them poor. As a

people they are proud of three things: their austere ways, their gray skin and their bald head. Now that the

ethnicity of the attendants was apparent to Baahtid, he realized that the maids cap on his attendants head

was more than just uniform. It also served to cover her baldness.

It was common knowledge that by the time a Wakusavdt, a Head as they were more commonly

referred to, reached puberty, they start losing their hair which completely falls off in a matter of 6 months.

Most Wakusavdt teenagers shave the rest off as their hair starts thinning.

Youre a head?

Of course sir, am I not gray?

Sorry, of course you are, he said off handedly. But the last time I cruised, the passengers called

their attendants by name, once we learn it of course.

May I ask when sir last traveled by Tubalon ship?

He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again as he tried to count, his eyes rolled to the left. It

shouldnt have been more than 15 years ago.

I see, said the attendant while she stepped back to allow people to pass. She took a deep breath as if

she was going to blurt out a really long sentence. Eight years ago, old Tubalon cruise ship owners started

giving us Heads, work. It pays better than whatever we could have made at home. Were treated well,

good lodgings, proper food but no names, just this. She pulled out a necklace and pendant which looked

decorative enough but had distinctly Tubalon writing on it.

What does it say? asked Baahtid.


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The name of my boat and my station: Skimmer-Attendant 12. Quickly she hid the pendant and

assumed a formal posture almost like she broke a rule by showing the accessory. Would that be all, sir?

The elder smiled a clipped smile with an almost fatherly gaze, then gently he said, More tea please

attendant 12.

Maybe it was the soft firm voice or maybe it was his gentle confidence, but Attendant 12 realized that

the old man wasnt just chatting with her, but neither was he making unwanted innuendoes. Strangely, he

seemed to genuinely desire to know the people he encounters.

He was more than friendly; he seemed actually approachable, like a favorite grandfather or uncle. The

kind of person that tells you stories and makes fun things out of everyday objects.

After he consumed another pot of Blue Tea, Baahtid left five coins more than indicated on his bill and

went on quietly to the promenade. Quietly Attendant 12 took the coins and slipped them in her apron

pocket without as much as a tinkle.

Dugsahl, she muttered under her breath.

Without looking back, Baahtid paused in mid-stride and walked again towards the door.

As he stepped out of the galley he squinted at the shaft of light that rudely assaulted his eyes. As his

eyes adjusted, he saw quite a number of people strolling on the promenade of the boat. He made his way

to the observation deck by bow and well, observed.

He noticed, as one could expect, that most of the passengers were Tubalon, the sea faring people,

arguably the best in the whole of Libutain. While the varied people could sail, the Tubalon have a kinship

with the water. While the histories of other people were highlighted with wars and the succession of

rulers, the Tubalon reckon their history by voyages. In fact, voyages are their means of solemnizing

almost everything from births to deaths, reflecting on their culture that to them, life is a journey.

There were quite a few Rylex on that deck. They were quite obvious as they stood a head taller than

most with their fair skin and hair in shades as various as the suns. They rode this cruise to give them the

right to pontificate to their friends at home that they know what it is to ride an authentic Tubalon cruise.

Authentic, Baahtid rolled his eyes at the thought of the word. While something could be said for

experiencing something as opposed to reading about it, one ride doesnt an expert make. Most certainly

they would return to their friends explaining how, One had to be there to get a full understanding what

they were talking about. Immediately validating people into their special circle of friends-whove-gone-

on-the-real-Tubalon-cruise.


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Still, were it not for Rylexan tourism, wooden vintage ship owners would have long since lost their

market to the faster more spacious and more comfortable cruise islands, ships so large that they can have

their own indefinite, self sustaining community. It wasnt uncommon for the wealthy to come on board

one of these islands with nothing more than a purse of money and the clothes on their back. Often

enough, clothes of every design from the archaic to the outlandish can be found there, to cater to ever

taste and eccentricity. Food was plentiful and on it you can forget you were ever on a ship. One could

walk off the port, to the island and from the island to ones destination. Many comment that the floating

island experience was more like walking than sailing.

Now the wooden ships have made a comeback. Those who miss the feeling of earning ones sea legs,

marching on wooden decks and making the no longer so familiar creak of boards and heels knocking on

wood.

Baahtid heard a noise from behind which disturbed his chain of thought. There were young men

emerging from the stairs which led to this deck. They ran out by twos and as soon as they crossed the

threshold ran to their assigned areas of the ship in military like precision.

Last to emerge was a stern faced old man, his eyes behind a single strip of glass in a red metal frame,

his hands behind him, and his back straight as a board.

Baahtid realized that he was standing quite the same way, which he thought disturbing so he brought

his hands gently to his sides.

Done? barked the old man in the single strip glass.

Hrrrmmm! grunted the sailors loudly to signify the affirmative.

Very well then. ROTATE!

The sailors all faced right and ran to the station of the man in front of them and inspected the formers

work with hands behind their backs.

REPORT!

In order! the men bellowed in singsong manner. Right after the reply they snappily turned around to

face the man in charge.

Out of order! said one finally, shouting one word at a time to make himself absolutely clear.

All eyes looked to him, though they were all rigidly facing front. And the man whose work he

inspected shot him an indignant look, pleading with his eyes for his comrade to take back his, out of

order.

The old man frowned and walked to the reported station. He adjusted his glass strip up to his nose to

see better and inspected with critical eyes.

The man formerly assigned to the station clenched his eyes and fists shut and muttered what seemed

to be a prayer though one might mistake it for a curse from the anger evident in his face.


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Trainee Tikyo, said the old man, Trainee Bodj has reported correctly. Your station is out of order.

Your ropework is sloppy. It looks passable now but that will unravel very quickly and make this mooring

unsecure.

The man called Tikyo snapped his head up in anger and wanted to stomp a foot in protest but decided

against it.

Bodj, the instructor said loudly.

Hrrrrrmmmm! he replied.

RECTIFY,

Hrrrmmmm! Bodj unraveled the rope and tied it back with the prescribe precision. When he was

done he spun around and grunted again.

Excellent work Bodj, nodded the old man. Fall in! he shouted and the group assembled in a block

three paces from the instructor. Tikyo was to the back and left of Bodj and was trying to drill a hole on

the back of Bodjs skull with the intensity of his stare.

Interesting thought Baahtid, taking in the scene. Such checks and counterchecks are what the

Tubalons are known for. In honor of that well known fastidiousness the Kaivee actually describe well

organized people as having Tubalon discipline.

Baahtid walked around when the crew of trainees evacuated the deck and curiously leaned over to see

for himself the rectified work the one called Bodj had done. Indeed it was immaculate and quite secure.

The elder closed his eyes and breathed in the saltwater breeze. He turned around to lean against the

rails and opened his eyes to a tall, slender beautiful gray skinned and absolutely bald couple. More Heads

he thought. But, unlike Attendant 12, he winced at how dehumanizing the label was, these two had

stature. They werent timid as the ones in the galley had been. They walked boldly, heads held high but

not smug, just confident. They were lovers, married or soon to be. Their closeness and carefree

expressions revealed how much they enjoyed each others company.

Despite their leisurely walk though, Baahtid could sense an air of discipline about them, almost

regimented. He glanced over their sleeveless vests and noted a tone in their muscles like that of seasoned

athletes.

Still his eyes could not help but look up their bald heads. It has been said that the Wakusavdt are

enhanced by their baldness and not diminished by it. He would have to agree. Their handsome features

would not need amending, they looked perfect.

Over the years, the Wakusavdt have learned to appropriate the word Head for themselves, as well. As

it was it was easier to pronounce than their native word, Wakusavdt, especially for the Rylex and their

impossible accents.


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It became clear to Baahtid that these two were on a cruise and not workers like the others he saw.

These were people of stature and with respectable fortune and position in Wakusavdt society. Their

embossed silver anklets were proof of it.

The gray of their skin seemed to reflect their peoples difficult lot. It almost seemed like their color

was meant to symbolize sadness and hardship, like the sad gray sky of impending rain. This thought has

persisted throughout the years. And though progress has been made with regards to Wakusavdt diplomacy

and have proven their worth in Libutanian affairs, by and large they were still seen by many as prone to

violence and uncouth at the best of times, or exotic oddities which received not condescending but rather

patronizing attention.

Such an attitude still pervades, and nowhere was it more evident than on this ship. Even the children

playing on the deck rudely stopped their games and stared open mouthed what seemed like the most

unnatural thing in the world.

Parents who saw the couple were obviously alarmed by their presence, took their children away on

one pretense or another, the smiled nervously to the Heads, pretending that everything was just fine. This

of course made it more obvious that things were not fine.

Courteously the couple smiled back, as the parents scurry along with whispers in their childrens ears

of warnings and cautionary tales about dealings with Heads.

Baahtid felt a slight urge to approach the couple. He was always keen to talk to members of the

Wakusavdt. He thought with a smile that their name was chosen long ago to describe their people, the

misunderstood ones. How unfortunate the way self pity gave way to pride. Over the centuries these were

those who took pride in their inscrutability, looking down on those who thought they knew what the

Wakusavdt were. By everyone else they were called Heads.

Another commotion broke the silence. A new disturbance momentarily took the attention away the

attention of the semi-mesmerized people from the ash skinned bald headed people.

A man staggered on to the deck from the same stairway where the trainees have poured out earlier.

The man had a clean but ragged soldiers uniform. It should have been jet black by the looks of it, but it

was a worn dark gray. His obvious officers bearing was made awkward by the fact that his hands were

joined at the wrist by gold magnacles, restraints in the form of bracelets made of super magnetic alloy.

Were it not for this purpose, people might have worn them as jewelry, though at the moment it clashed

with the austere aesthetics of the uniform.

The magnacled man had hard eyes which, was about the only thing recognizable about him. His hair

was long and wavy, matched almost in length by his equally wiry beard. He looked unkempt but not

filthy.


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Two other men immediately followed. Soldiers wearing the same uniform as the prisoner, only theirs

were in good repair and their colors were in their proper vivid hue. It was obvious that they were

Rylexan military. A badge containing an elongated green diamond, inside a yellow square, trimmed with

a red border, was visible on their left shoulders which signified their status.

Go on Captain, said one of the guards mocking the captives rank. Its time for your breath of

fresh air.

Well then, replied the man called Captain coolly, dont talk too close to me. Your breakfast from

last week still reeks in your mouth. Dont you wash?

The other guard which was for the moment silent, spun quickly to deliver a fast hard punch to the

Captains liver.

The mans knees gave out beneath him; he gasped mouthfuls of air and screwed his eyes shut from

the pain that robbed him of his voice.

What was that you said? I couldnt quite hear, asked the man who just punched him, teeth and fist

still clenched, obviously enjoying the humiliation he was causing the prisoner and the attention he was

getting from the onlookers.

On your feet! shouted the first guard as he jerked the prisoners arm. I said get up.

You! shouted the other guard more for show than any real crowd control. Mind your own

business!

Have you gone deaf? continued the guard insulted earlier for his breath as he leaned on the prisoner

still on his knees and clutching his side. I said get

Abruptly the prisoner stood up, slamming the back of his head against the guards jaw causing him to

bite on his tongue, interrupting his taunt in mid-sentence.

The guard fell back covering his mouth as tears swelled in his eyes from the pain of his now bleeding

tongue.

Still crouched after delivering the head butt, he swung his trunk with the force of a tightly coiled

spring and in the same motion extended his right elbow, violently slamming with the other guards ear.

With his jailers sufficiently incapacitated, the captain broke into a run.

Two glistening silver spheres rolled dangerously in front of the running man. He side stepped in mid-

stride to avoid slipping on the slippery orbs, only to collide with the bowed old man who was in the

process of picking up his runaway spheres. It was too late to move out of the way for a second time, his

knee stuck itself on the old mans side. He overbalanced and tripped very awkwardly, landing hard on the

deck where his neck met his shoulder.

The captain though was determined not to be caught. With the rage of a wild animal, the magnacled

man rocked back and sprang up to a squat, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.


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He set himself upright, ignoring the fallen old man, and spun quickly to the right, his eyes still

looking back to check if any of the guards were in pursuit, they werent.

As he turned to look front, he felt the impact of what could have been a mules kick on his chest as

the bald females shoulder made contact. He staggered back about to fall when the captain felt a hand,

then an arm slither swiftly beneath his chin. In the next moment the crook of the arm closed on his

windpipe cutting the flow of both air and blood to his head. He felt another hand slap shut behind his ear

and like a rag doll he was dragged and brought to his jailers.

The people on the deck were stunned by the scene. Some quickly went back indoors, while others

stayed riveted where they stood.

Stay still or I break your neck, whispered the bald man.

Oh I dont think theres any need for that, spoke Elder Baahtid as he rose to his feet, My, that

hurt, he said rubbing his side which hurt as a result of the Captains running into him. He knocked the

wind right out of me, all that fuss just to pick up my exercise balls. Though he was complaining one

could hear a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

Release him, commanded the guard who was elbowed earlier, still groggy but attempting to sound

authoritative, he is a prisoner of the Rylexan High Command. He then wobbled to his feet and helped

the other guard who still had his hands clapped over his mouth, blood now seeping through his fingers.

Rylex? asked the female head, this boat docks at Loovimne, thats as far as you can get from

Rylex.

We are not at liberty or at ease to discuss Rylexan affairs with anyone, Head. His last word

dripped with contempt.

You ungrateful started the male Head but his companion raised a hand, closed her eyes and shook

her head lightly, telling him not to pursue the matter. He released the captain to the guards.

The expression on the prisoners face changed form anger to resignation as his guards regained

custody. Soon more men in uniform made their way to the deck, three were similarly attired while others

in plain clothes but it was now obvious from their demeanor that they belonged to the same outfit. Two in

plain clothes helped the bleeding man and the rest surrounded the prisoner and escorted him quickly back

in the deck below.

Baahtid waited for the august company to disappear from view before he spoke.

You make quite a team you two, the old man said as he straightened himself to his full height and

smoothed away the wrinkles on his clothes which promptly vanished.

And you are not a defenseless old man, answered the Head curtly.

You, continued the woman, are what we refer to as a sheathed sword, something sharp and deadly

clothed in gentleness.


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Baahtid smiled, My Wakusavdt friends, he said with deliberate clarity, did I say that right?

You did, the woman smiled.

Care to keep an old man company? he looked at both of them now.

Only if you allow us to buy the drinks, declared the bald man.

Only if I have the pleasure or your names, Baahtid said copying the formality in the mans tone.

The request of their names came as a slight shock to the Heads as they were used to being ignored or

talked to without any reference to their person.

I am Maglon and she is my wife Flohr, he said while gesturing to his spouse.

They call me Elder Baahtid of the Kaivee Apex. Mind you they only started calling me elder since I

couldnt hide my white hairs any longer, he chuckled.

The couple gave chuckles of their own.

How about those drinks then, invited Flohr.

001 the elder at sea

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