Trekmaster. James B. Johnson

do not understand,/ said A:alpha after some study. Applying historical and cultural perspective to an alien race was difficult.

      /’Tis not an easy task, granted; nor do many of us understand, and of those, not all comprehend fully. It merits the long-term study, the intent of which I sense from your aura./ O:chacka stretched the webs between his many toes in reflex and continued. /’Tis a worthy life-goal./

      /Perhaps the humans themselves can tell us why, why they act so...so contradictory to nature, why they treat each other the way they do,/ said A:alpha, not willing to drop the discussion yet.

      /’Tis a thought which has been acted on. Upon his visit many years ago, the current Trekmaster, my stone-mate, was queried and his answer was not satisfying to us, more enigmatic than specific. Though, it will be admitted, he was no great philosopher or academician. To balance, though, he had a consuming drive, unusual for a human, for it burned inside of him and his aura fairly danced with undirected energy./

      /What did he say, learned one?/

      /Perhaps it was a riddle? I know not. His answer was simple. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe we don’t get along. Or maybe common sense ain’t so fuckin’ common, and you can quote me on that.” Those were his exact words and worthy of study in cultural context. He followed with, “Maybe we just don’t like each other.” More enigma. There is a school of thought that the human mystery is coded within their genes, a racial trait that has been augmented by circumstance and environment rather than submerged by nature for the good of their race./ He rolled in a mass of drifting weed.

      A:alpha retuned his hearing more accurately to compensate.

      /So far, the Trekmaster has justified our efforts in him,/ O:chacka finished.

      /What humans do on this planet could have an altering effect on our lives,/ A:alpha said, knowing that was the tip of his life-goal. Finally, a starting-point.

      /From your aura, I sense you might consider that effect adverse,/ said O:chacka. /Does adversity necessarily follow from what we know?/

      /Most probably./

      /Yet not a definite conclusion. Additionally, this conclusion depends on the point of view of the one doing the considering,/ said O:chacka.

      Thinking, A:alpha noted the warning. There were no requirements for objectivity. On the other web, if he could not understand the human past, how could he extrapolate a future? He said as much to O:chacka.

      /Point is well taken, young one. For now, we have no acceptable answers./

      /This does not bode well for us,/ said A:alpha.

      /Aye. We live within our environment and ecosystem. There is no requirement to change this to provide food or shelter. Aesthetics aside, of course. Yet we see already the alarming growth rate of humanity. Many years of war, now their population has doubled. And with this current Trekmaster in control, there promises to be more humans and more expansion. Room enough? Sufficient now on this globe.../

      /And in the future?/ A:alpha prompted.

      /For a while./

      /Action should be taken,/ A:alpha stated.

      /Ah, the impetuosity and impatience of youth. The rock-certainty./ O:chacka’s aura colored to indulgent.

      /Perhaps I shall be the one to accomplish the honor./

      /An honor?/ asked O:chacka.

      /The possibilities include that permutation./

      /Not highly, young one./

      /Nevertheless, it shall befall my lot./

      /In what manner?/

      /This I know not yet. However, I have learned to study before taking action./

      /You shall be a wise old one, young one. To learn is to conquer. Knowledge to become the end in itself./

      /Knowledge can also be a bridge./ mused A:alpha. /Perhaps therein lies the problem. Knowledge can lead to understanding and thus preclude the necessity for action./

      /You swim a long way to reach a short goal in your words, young one. But what you say is true. On the other web, action could become desirable should we wish to avoid the onslaught of humanity. And that, young one, is what we face. And sooner than it would seem. To quote again the current Trekmaster, “If you don’t want to know the answer, don’t ask the question.”/

      They floated over a chasm and spiraled down until the sunlight no longer illuminated their surroundings. A:alpha always found the absolute dark restful, the silence mind-expanding.

      From below, a pinpoint glow floated straight up at them, gaining in speed as it ascended.

      /A flash worm,/ said O:chacka.

      Soon they could see the length of the creature. It was one of their body lengths long. And it glowed the entire surface of its body. A:alpha knew that humans feared this electrical killer.

      /He shall try us before reaching the surface to recharge,/ said O:chacka.

      /It would seem so, though I would hope not./

      The flash worm accelerated and, when near, sent out an expanding flash that rippled through the water at them.

      At the last moment, A:alpha tightened his aura, ballooned it, and deflected the charge. The resultant clash of the two forces enveloped the flash worm and it reacted by going into convulsions, curling within itself, and floating off into the depths.

      /Why did you not act, learned one? I abhor violence and your aura is more powerful./

      /’Tis obvious, A:alpha. I accomplished my duty. Perhaps you have learned something this day./

      6. TJ

      “You don’t tell me how to rule and I won’t tell you how to write poetry.” TJ said. Doesn’t matter anyway, he thought ruefully; poetry doesn’t have to rhyme any more. Don’t even think it, he told himself, don’t ruin the academia you have so carefully built. Just because some scholars had poisoned his son’s mind, he shouldn’t think seriously about interfering with the university system he was so proud of. Prince Michale stood beside him watching the executioner take the hood off his battle axe. “The hell with that poetry and book learning anyway. Your education ought to be about the Fine art of war and politics, of economics and leadership.” He’d wanted so badly a warrior-prince for a son.

      “Taking a life is your idea of leadership?” Michale demanded.

      “Son. you’re going to rule, you’ve got to be willing to make decisions, big and little. Life or death.” That’s one reason he’d instituted the system whereby the monarch must approve a death sentence, must determine method of execution. and must be present during the execution. He’d insisted this day that Mick accompany him.

      Michale looked at him with disgust. TJ noted that the last body had been dragged off. He’d decreed slow-hanging for that one, a repeat offender who had done an S and M rape/murder. The execution due was another murderer who had killed quickly and cleanly—thus his own death would be merciful and in the twinkling of an axe.

      The King and the Prince stood facing the platform where the executions were accomplished, in a flat area on the side of the palace, within eyesight of the city of Crimson Sapphire and facing out on the amaranth grain fields that covered the alluvial plain. The public was invited. TJ felt that if his executions were public, they would have both warning value to others who would rape and murder, and also they might vicariously give some the taste of death so that they would not have to murder for their own gratification. TJ knew there were some who killed for pleasure. Not for money, sex, power, jealousy, or revenge, the good, old fashioned values you were supposed to kill for.

      A struggling man, short and thin, was brought up the stairs to the platform. Two guards wrestled him to his knees and locked him in the wooden mechanism which held him bent over a block, neck bared to the axeman.

      The executioner shouldered his axe and walked