They continued walking through halls styled in pre-Shift Alogostani architecture and furniture. Babaw saw them curiously examining their surroundings, except for Kusgan who was busy typing into his tabcom. ‘Our historians and archaeologists say this is what pre-Shift Alogostani castles and palaces probably looked like, when our glorious Nation was still the size of a small province along the banks of Tunga River.’

‘Were their furniture plated with silver and gold, Sir?’ Ihap asked, running her fingers across a sculpture of an ancient Alogostani warrior clad in white and yellow lamellar armor.

‘No. That’s our President’s touch. Over the years he has been brightening up the Palace. Some of the furniture and decorations here in the central rooms of the main building is covered by a few nanometers of precious metal.’

The next room was a kind of living room where a dozen men in bullet proof vests lounged around in various chairs and sofas, or just standing. Luto and Ihap discretely eyed them. The biggest and most evil-looking guard carried an assault rifle. The rest bore submachine guns slung over their shoulders. They were led by another General, armed with a sidearm and ceremonial sword.

‘How’s it going General Kuot? We will have to wait a few minutes won’t we? I just received word.’

‘Same as usual General Babaw, Minister Kusgan. Yes, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. The President is holding an unscheduled virtual meeting on his computer table with the Police of Gagmay City. There’s been another terrorist attack in that city. A bomb has killed more than a dozen civilians in a crowded waiting shed.’ There was a hard arrogance in his voice that clearly said, ‘Don’t mess with me, I’ll kill you.’

The visitors sat on chairs and sofas scattered around the room. General Babaw took his leave. General Kuot waved his hand around.

‘We might as well chat and get comfortable. I don’t know when the President will be finished.’ Kuot turned to the Wings. ‘Denim skirts and tank tops? You’re just young girls. Pretty too. Maybe the accounts of your encounters during the Dark War are exaggerated. Seems to me any of my men can take you on one on one, but would likely want to take you out to a bar or disco.’

‘I’d prefer a disco, but Bodhi and Aya like bars more, and Oisa none of them,’ Alwana replied nonchalantly.

Kuot peered at her. ‘You trying to be funny little girl? Are you really an Arch Wing?

‘Yes General Kuot,’ Alwana answered. ‘Aren’t you also the Prosecutor General of Alogostan?’

‘Alogostan has a Chief Executioner?’

Lili interrupted her in rapid Sinayabi. ‘Alwana, be careful. The guy was Army special forces but was arrested and put on trial as a suspect in a series of rapes and murders 20 years ago. He got out on bail put up by then newly elected Vice President Tagas, when he found out he was a bastard cousin of his. Shortly after President Lipot was assassinated and the newly ascended President Tagas gave him a full pardon. He was then given a job to suit his instinctual tendencies, and he also doubles as the head of the Presidential Aides, another military unit assigned to guard the President. Not a man we want to antagonize.’

‘What are you saying?’ Kuot interjected.

‘Oh, I was just orienting Alwana,’ Lili answered in Alogostani.

Luto tried to break the awkward situation with small talk on the aides’ weapons. He bowed to the ape-like aide with the assault rifle.

‘That looks like a Sig 00. Fine gun it was. Do you like using it?’

‘This baby is better. It’s an AK 470. Just looks similar, but fires more accurately at a longer distance.’

Ihap glanced at them curiously, and looked as if she were about to speak, but Luto continued talking, preempting her.

‘What cartridge does it use?’ In a few moments, Luto and some of the aides were discussing guns ancient and modern amiably.

Kuot didn’t join them. Instead he was eyeing Ihap, who had sat on a sofa in front of him. Unlike Chef Luto who came in wearing formal slacks and button shirt, Ihap was wearing her usual uniform, blue blazer, navy blue shoes, yellow button shirt with the tag ‘Avatar Ihap, C.P.A.’ on the left breast pocket. Her hair was set in an elaborate and elegant coiffure by a long blue hairpin. Her short blue skirt had ridden up her thighs.

Ihap crossed her legs, and then uncrossed them tantalizingly. ‘If I may ask so General, what do you think of the Sig 00 and AK470?’

‘I like both but AK470 is better. Why would you like to know pretty little avatar?’

‘I am an admirer of the way you do your job.’

‘You are?’

‘Yes, last year the offical Alogostani death row census lists a hundred and three National executions in Tunga City. You did not allocate any of the quotas to subalterns but did them all by yourself. I am a combat avatar. One of my hobbies is studying the ancient martial arts, and the way you proficiently decapitate, skewer, or strangle criminal scum in videos carries the hallmark of a man trained in ancient Alogostani fighting techniques.’

‘Really? Perhaps we could talk about it more.’

‘Sure, why not? We can meet when you’re off duty.’ Ihap flashed him a naughty smile.

Kuot grinned back wickedly. ‘You mean you’ll be staying a while here in Tunga City? I thought all if you had to go back to the Eastern Islands after your audience with the President.’

‘Not necessarily. After our Maestro maker died, we have become masterless. I can choose to stay behind, learn about some of your techniques before going back.’

The Wings, Lili, and Elam were looking at Ihap curiously. Kusgan raised an eyebrow. Luto continued to chitchat weaponry with the other Aides.

Kuot’s tabcom rang. He glanced at it. ‘The President will see you now.’ He stood up, leaving Ihap, and opened the inner door to the Presidential Office. Ihap moved over to Luto, whispering something to him. They entered, escorted by the Presidential aides.

President Tagas was attired in traditional clothes, that of the ancient warrior caste of Alogostan. If President Dako resembled a straightforward bull, the small statured Tagas was a charming shrew.

‘Ah welcome Household of the Sun and Sky. I am President Tagas, as you already probably know. We can dispense with the preliminaries. You’re Oisa, Bodhi, Alwana, Aya, Ihap, and Luto. You’re Maestra Lili and Anachronista Elam. Minister Kusgan was kind enough to send me your pictures.’

There was a small table with various drinks and snacks beside the right wall of his Office. The President waved at it. ‘Merienda first? Or would you like to talk business straightaway?’

‘We might as well talk business first, Your Excellency,’ Oisa replied without hesitation.

‘Ah typical avatar behavior. Straight to the point. Oh please don’t get offended. Mind you, I admire your frank and no nonsense attitude.’

The President’s table computer was displaying a frozen holographic image of a destroyed waiting shed. Bodies and body parts lay strewn everywhere. On top of it was a caption that read ‘Terrorist Attack in Gagmay.’ Tagas gestured at it.

‘What say you to my proposal?’

Oisa, Bodhi, Alwana, Aya, Ihap, Luto, Lili, and Elam all gave deep asian bows. ‘We agree. We are ready to take mission assignments, as long as they are reasonable and logical, reserving the right to reject the unreasonable ones,’ Oisa stated.

‘We’re also short on cash right now. Perhaps His Excellency would be kind enough to allocate budget for a professional fee per mission accomplished.’

Tagas beamed. ‘That’s settled then. While your accounts are still legally inaccessible, the Office of the President will pay your PFs and recompense all of your expenses in Bugu coins. My Office or DATA will give you assignments soon in the future. Minister Kusgan care to say more?’

‘Yes, Your Excellency. That attack you see is just a distraction. The Police Chief and his best detectives rushed to the site. The van crashed headlong at 100 kilometers per hour into a concrete post. Gagmay City has just lost its Police Chief and best police investigators. It’s now officially listed as an accident and we can’t prove otherwise, but this kind of stuff has been happening regularly in the past year. Somehow Fiery Path has been infiltrating police, DATA, National Intelligence Agency, Bureau of Internal Investigation, and the various branches of the Alogostani Military, and arranging for the assassination of scores of key personnel.’

‘If so many have been targeted, they must leave some kind of trail,’ Luto stated.

‘Not if most of the cases are disappearances, and the few obvious ones are apparent accidents such as this. In the past month alone, 30 of our best Intelligence, Police, and Military Officers have disappeared, and 10 have suffered from fatal accidents. We suspect Dark Arts are involved, wielded by your Dark Kindred.’

‘I suppose there’s a definitive way to find out.’ Luto’s knife glinted yellow in his hand. He threw it straight into the heart of the rifle-wielding aide across the room.

The aides, except for Kuot, swung their weapons at Luto. The one closest to him fired, but Luto had assumed his blue armored Aspect. The bullets bounced off his abdomen and chest. He slammed his knife into the aide’s left eye, crunching through the thin orbit and into the brain. Both his victims dissipated slowly, leaving ash on the floor.

‘Stand down. There are Dark Kindred in this room. President Tagas, with your permission, I would like to test your aides for their true identities.’

The astonished Tagas merely nodded. An aide 3 meters away from him sprouted fangs. It slapped at another aide between it and the President. The man flew across the room, landing on the floor with a bent left arm, a fractured humerus. The Vampire leaped at the President so fast that it looked like an aerial afterimage of a ghost. It was met by a blue polearm that skewered it, cheek to cranium, penetrating through the maxillary and sphenoid bones. Ihap had also changed to her armored form. Hair now a loose flowing midnight blue across her shoulders, she had transformed from certified public accountant to warrior avatar.

An aide stood by the closed Presidential Office door, just behind Alwana. It vamped up and tried to sink its fangs on Alwana’s neck. Its head was met by Alwana’s right wing sprouting up below its mandible. The wing cut a perfect coronal section of the Vampire’s skull and brain. Its face and fronto temporal lobes slid off the remaining parts of its cranium.

Alwana completed her transformation into her Winged form, flaming blue and gold doble espada held across the door. ‘No one tries to escape.’ She looked at the President and added, ‘Oops, I mean just the Dark Kindred you Excellency.’

Without further word, Luto moved with dizzying quickness around the room, trying to inflict a small incision on the forearm of each aide. None of them were cut, except for one more beside the President and Ihap. Luto’s knife left a small mark that began to rapidly heal. He stepped back and gave the aide a little bow.

‘Palihog. If you please. Stand down; you don’t have to die. We will be lenient if you talk with us about your organization. That is if his Excellency will agree.’ Luto nodded at President Tagas.

Instead the aide began to vamp up, teeth elongating. Ihap, beside it, perfunctorily drove her gauntleted right hand, fingers extended, through its thin squamous temporal bone and into it brain.

The avatars moved to the slain Possessed’s aural afterimages and soaked them up.

I have now realized that Book 1 resembles a novella more than a novel, with a single dominant plot and a twist at the end about Duro. Thus, it was easy to narrate from the point of view of one person (Elam).

At the onset, I have already decided that Book 2 will be told from multiple perspectives of people with lots of darkling ancestry. I'm planning to make a demon the main hidden antagonist.

Since the so called young adult films and books have love story subplots in them, I've decided to make one about Walay (nearly 90& darkling) and Tuman (the superbright but naive idealist, who's pure human.) Tuman though will have ideas that are of an entirely different level compared to that of the pasty and shallow Peeta character in Hunger Games. (I just hate that character; he's like an idiot foil for Katrniss, just to prove that Katniss is a normal young woman who can be romantically involved. But then again, maybe that's what Collin's fans want. Battle Royale was so much better in its characters.)

Note: When I first watched Hunger Games, my first thought was that it's a rip-off from Battle Royale. It's just my opinion but I think the Hunger Games series is not great literature at all. However, it is the most famous 'young adult' literature in circulation at present; so I've scoped through it. (Or maybe the Twilight series, the film of which I found to be so yucky I couldn't even get myself to read it.) Like most of these genre, it's dominated by female characters. That won't be a problem in Darkquake because the Arch Wings are female, and I've already decided to turn over the leadership of the Sun and Sky to Lili instead of Elam.

I'm also going to develop Ihap's character more. When I reviewed Book 1, I like the way she stood up against the demons in the final battle.

So Book 2 will be female dominated.

President Tagas, General Kuot, and the surviving aides stood motionless, looking at the living sculpture of a magnificent gold feathered winged angel holding a flaming sword across the door of the President’s Office.

‘Oh this is how I usually look like when I slay darklings.’ Alwana grinned at Kuot. ‘Or you prefer my girly look?’ She retracted back her Wings and posed like a fashion model, pelvis flexed, chest thrust forward, head slightly extended, right knee flexed, right hand on her thigh right, left hand on her left hip.

‘Hey sis, stop being a show-off,’ Ihap called out in Sinayabi.

‘Speak for yourself, tossing your hair around like a voiceless diva? Showing off your legs to you-know-who? You’re up to something, Ihap; I just know it.’

Minister Kusgan ahemed loudly.

‘We Maestros are quite used to seeing such lightning like lethal actions from combat avatars. I assure you it’s quite ordinary for them. What’s extraordinary is the presence of Possessed in your unit, General Kuot.’

Kuot managed to give the impression of frowning and snarling at the same time. ‘Are you implying I am incompetent Minister Kusgan?’

‘Of course not. It’s just that now it’s clear they’ve penetrated everywhere. I would recommend that everyone in the Presidential Palace be tested by Luto’s knife.’

President Tagas supinated his forearm. ‘You better test the rest of us, starting with me.’

Luto nodded. He went up to Tagas and cut at his forearm. No blood. He then walked up to Ihap. ‘If I may?’

Ihap nodded and offered him her forearm. Luto cut at it and lavender blood came out of the little incision, which rapidly healed. ‘An avatar or Dark Kindred will exhibit such reaction to my knife, except the Salig Commandos, Wings, and Demon Kings, whose skins are impervious to my weapon. However when a High Demon King takes on a Deceptive Disguise, its skin becomes vulnerable to my knife.’

This time walking in a normal manner, Luto proceeded to each of the remaining non-tested people in the room- Oisa, Bodhi, Alwana, Aya, Elam, Lili, Kusgan, Kuot. None of them were injured by his knife, except for Lili. Her skin began to weal and redden where Luto ran his knife, but did not bleed. ‘That’s the mark of a Tamawo. You are almost 90%, or 17/19, darkling Lili.’

‘Yeah I know I still am at least 2/19 human, or Pana would have lanced an arrow through my eye.’

Ihap bowed low before Tagas. ‘Your Excellency, should not you consider this event a mission? It would help our Household mightily if you could allocate funds for a PF.’

Tagas hesitated. ‘Oh yes of course. You saved my life avatar Ihap.’ He spoke into his tabcom. ‘I’ve instructed the Treasurer to award you a hundred thousand pesos in Bugu coins. How much is your PF for testing all of the Palace employees? There are approximately 5000 of them, including all the military units such as Presidential Guards and Aides.’

‘Just 5 million pesos, Your Excellency,’ Ihap instantly replied. ‘One thousand pesos per personnel.’

President Tagas shrugged. ‘I guess it’s worth it.’ He spoke into his tabcom. ‘General Babaw, come over here at once.’

It turned out that Babaw was just two rooms away and arrived in a few seconds. ‘Test him,’ Tagas told Luto. The avatar moved quickly and cut at Babaw’s arm before he could protest. No blood.

‘General Babaw, have your soldiers round up all palace personnel immediately. Have them, and all your soldiers too, file through the Palace Clinic Complex. Do not tell them why. Aides in this room who have already been tested are to relieve the Guards at the Palace’s outposts.’

Oisa raised her hand. ‘Me, Alwana, and Bodhi will secure the Palace perimeters from the Guard towers and from the air. Aya, stay here to examine the bodies of any Possessed that you catch. Luto will be assisted by Ihap. President Tagas, I suggest you stay by Aya; you’re safer with her than anywhere else in the Palace.’

It was done with emergency room. In half and an hour the Palace personnel were being tested one by one in the Clinic. An employee would enter the Clinic’s front door, Luto would try to inflict a cut, and then the proven human would walk out the backdoor.

Aya carried its body to the Clinic’s CT scan room where Kusgan, Lili, and the Palace’s Chief MDE, Maestro Dugang, waited to do diagnostics. Their Seals glowed as they placed their palms on the unconscious soldier’s head. President Tagas observed beside them with interest.

‘S__t,’ Lili exclaimed. ‘This one has a Binding Compulsion if captured to vamp up, and try to escape, or failing that, to commit suicide. When it wakes up, we’ll lose it. Dark Kindred and darklings have extremely good control of their physiology and can voluntarily shut down their body functions and die.’

Next, they examined the body for hidden equipment and weapons. Per Aya’s suggestion they CT scanned the body. There was a small radio transmitter buried in its nape. Aya stiffened her fingers to the density of steel and plunged it into skin, subcutaneous tissue, fascia, and muscle, and retrieved the transmitter.

‘That was a twenty seconds ago. I’m sticking to the exterior side of the wall with my tabcom over the top in order to record. Now, approximately a hundred people have congregated in my perimeter, probably preparing a mass break out. They could be Possessed in Deceptive Disguises. I will know for sure once they make inhuman leaps which that maid did. The Palace Wall here is adjacent to the North Tunga City Forest Park. Uh oh, there they go!’

On their tabcoms, a video of five Possessed leaping over the Palace North Wall could be seen from Bodhi’s vantage just over the wall. The view closed rapidly as Bodhi went after them. Her doble espada flashed, decapitating one Possessed at the height of its jump. The views changed quickly, each ending with the decapitation of a Possessed as they jumped across the wall.

‘The other Possessed, have seen me. They’re talking among themselves below the wall. I’m now hovering 5 meters above the wall.’ In a louder voice, ‘Dark Kindred, surrender yourselves to me and your life will be spared! No one has to die.’

‘It’s no use Bodhi,’ Lili told her over the tabcom. ‘They have Binding Compulsions on them. They’ll try to escape and failing that will commit suicide.’

‘Need any help?’ Oisa’s voice came over the tabcom. ‘I’m in the West Wall.’

‘No sis. They’re just Possessed. They’re too slow to even take evasive action if I go after them. Better watch your perimeter in case any try to escape there.’

As though hearing the end of a ready, get set, go command, all 93 Possessed began leaping across the Palace North Wall. The view from Bodhi’s tabcom changed like a camera’s bulb flashing 93 times. Each one began with a Possessed head rapidly approaching Bodhi’s tabcom and ended with the head getting lopped off by her doble espada. Three score made it to the other side of the North Wall, but by then Bodhi had positioned herself there and continued chopping off heads as they landed and tried to run into the Park woods. She moved so fast as to be invisible to the human eye. At the end of the video, dissipating heads and bodies lay all around the ground below the Wall. Little blots of grayish ash marked the places where the bodies had lain.

‘I got all of them. I better absorb their energy before they completely dissipate. ’

‘By the Tela,’ President Tagas exclaimed. ‘My elite aides could not handle a pretty bloodsucking maid. That avatar beheaded a hundred Vampires in a few seconds!’

Aya bowed at him. ‘Vampires are weaker than the weakest Natural Darkling Pawns; while Bodhi is no ordinary avatar. She is an Arch Wing, designed and built to terminate the most powerful of High Demons, a single one of which let loose can destroy all of humanity in this world. Here she is slaughtering hapless fanged chickens. We’re not supposed to be going around terminating Dark Kindred, but we agreed to the Presidential Deal, which his Excellency has promised to honor.’ She looked pointedly at President Tagas, standing beside her. ‘Won’t you President Tagas?’

The Possessed on the CT scan table woke up. It extended its arms, snapping its straps, and stood up. President Tagas looked at it in alarm as it rose, grew 20 cm long nails, and showed him a mouthful of fangs. Then it took a small jump, landed in front of him, and grabbed for his throat with cat-like quickness.

Its arm fell off its shoulder as a blue mono espada intersected its upper humerus. A second yellow one took off its head.

Tagas stood in shocked silence.

‘You’ll honor your promise, won’t you President Tagas?’ Aya repeated.

Mid afternoon, the Veteran avatars, Lili, and Elam held a meeting at Café Tubangtoo, on top of the Bow’s starboard tower.

Bugsay’s voice spoke from their tabcoms. ‘Alright, our Boat is about to commence the trip back to Eastern Islands. We are stop-overing at Tubo Island in the Offshores, in order to drop off the students.’

Elam raised his hand. ‘Before we start, would someone care to explain to me why the hell would a Unitemplist sect, dedicated to fight all darklings, employ Dark Kindred as agents?’

Bodhi pursed her lips. ‘You often grow close to the thing you hate. Unitemplist leaders and ideologues spend so much time studying darklings that they invariably are all experts on them. It is inevitable that some of them will use their expertise in order to use darklings and Dark Kindred as tools in pursuing their goals. Furthermore, Unitemplist theology encourages the use of darklings against darklings.’

‘What?! A religion that encourages the use of demons against demons which it hates? That sounds pretty schizophrenic and f_cked up!’

‘There is an internal logic to it,’ Bodhi averred. ‘Furthermore since nearly half of Terans adhere to this theology, if what you say is true, then nearly of half of humanity is growing up in a schizophrenic culture wherein a small percentage of the ordinary human population, which still amounts to billions of people, entertains the notion of summoning and using demons.’

‘Well, speaking of darklings, Luto’s knife almost cut Lili.’

Lili answered the implied question. ‘No I am not a darkling. Our baryonic Universe is ‘friendlier’ to baryon-made humans. Even a small human ‘blood’ by ancestry will tend to make you more human, or Tawo, than darkling. So even at only 2/19, I am considered as human, although not fully so, which makes me Tamawo. Only beings inside the window of approximately 80 to 90% genetic ancestry are Tamawo; below that, you’re regarded as a more commonplace Hybrid.’

‘To answer another question before you ask it, darkling inheritance continually attenuates per generation. If two humans each approximately 50% darkling by genetic ancestry mate, their children would not be 50% darkling like their parents, but on average only 25%. Their grandchildren would only be 12.5% darkling. And so on as the generations pass. It’s very rare for a child to be more darkling than her parents. For two humans 50% darkling by genetic ancestry, the odds of bearing a child that is 90% darkling is astronomically small.’

‘What if the child beats the stars and turns out to be more than 90% darkling?

‘Then she is more darkling, with their powers such as the ability to possess, but with human-like characteristics.’

‘Uhm, is Walay darkling?’’

Luto, who was bending to place drinks on their table, straightened up. ‘Only one way to find out. Walay, may I test you?’

‘Sure!’ Walay offered Luto her arm. Luto immediately cut at it. As with Lili’s case, the cut grew a red weal, but did not break skin. ‘You’re Tamawo, same as Lili.’

‘That’s a relief,’ Elam said.

Tahum, by his side, patted his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, pangga. We would sense any darkling, unless Disguise, Distort, Mascara, Occult, Veil or other such masking spells are distorting our perception. The Deceptive Disguise spell is the worst; it’s virtually impenetrable but requires a lot of dark energy to initiate. The Possessed we just disposed of had them, so that MDEs in the Presidential Palace could not see them for what they were. In my opinion, it indicates that our foes have bases of operation near Tera’s Trough areas where they can access a lot of dark energy.’

‘So how did Fiery Path convince so many Dark Kindred to take on not only Deceptive Disguises, but also suicidal Binding Compulsions?’ Walay asked.

Lili pursed her lips. ‘Those Palace Possessed were infected by other Possessed or maybe even by darklings. their Makers could have easily ordered them to take on Disguises and Compulsions. DATA is investigating.’

Captain Sugo stood up. ‘So here’s the Household’s schedule of outside activities. First, we drop off Tahum, Tukib, Luto, and Pana in Buhi City, to infiltrate the secret societies of the Dark Kindred, and try to recover Father’s USB. Second, Henloa, Tenloa, and Limpyoha will pay off our debts incurred during Father’s wake and funeral with some of the Bugu coins, total of 5.1 million pesos, we receive from the Presidential office as PF. Third, we go to the Senate Hearing on Devolvement on the weekend. Fourth, we wait for further missions from the Office of the President or DATA. We can’t go on combat missions as of now, since we need a Maestro to legally accept for those.

Elam frowned. ‘Why are you all so blithe about it? It’s the first time an avatar is left behind that I know of.’

‘Oh Ihap has not left; she’s on some kind of mission that only she knows about. She always had that prerogative. She has been pretty depressed lately, with no job to do, and she seems to be taking up her old secondary role in the Dark War as an Infiltrator Succubus.’

Before Elam could inquire further, Bugsay’s voice rang from their tabcoms. ‘Alright, we’ve arrived in Tubo Island.’

‘What? We only left a few minutes ago!’

‘The first large Island in the Offshore Region from Tunga City is Tubo Island. Half of the students, those from the Mainland, stayed behind in Tunga City, the other half is from the Offshore Archipelago. We better escort them out.’

The Shield floated about a kilometer away from Tubo City Port, as the water was too shallow closer to the Port. Lili, Walay, Elam, and several avatars joined the students in lifeboat Tulingan, which they were using as a ferry. Walay carried a duffle bag, and was arguing with Lili in rapid Islet accented Sinayabi.

As the students disembarked, Walay joined them. ‘Tuman I’m going with you.’

Tuman looked pleased. ‘Sure, Walay. Is it alright, uhm, Lili?’

‘Huo. Yes, Walay is still on her one month reward leave. She can go wherever she wants, and DATA won’t ask questions, spy on her, or even know where she is. We will remain in touch by tabcom.’

Walay embraced Lili and patted Elam on the cheek. ‘I’m planning to go visit Layo Island after this, so it might be some time before we meet again, Elam.’

Lili gazed at them as they departed. ‘Walay is legally my ward, you know. She was adopted by my clan. She’s another Hybrid child left in Layo Port, probably by Nova Continenters who know the Sayabi of the Islets have always traditionally taken care of these Hybrid children. Her adopted parents perished two years ago in a fishing boat accident, when she was 11. Since 16 is the legal age in Alogostan, someone had to adopt her. I did and recruited her into DATA. Now she has a steady income, and Minister Kusgan will award her a college degree in some military or intelligence course as they always do for young recruits. I myself have a B.S. in Armed and Unarmed Combat, apart from my MDE degree. I’m encouraging her to take up BS Intelligence Analysis. The requirement is that we study extra material DATA sends to our computers. There is no written exam. We pass the course after completing a sufficient number of missions successfully.’

‘Uh, those certainly sound different from any College course in My Null World. I didn’t know that DATA can award BS degrees.’

‘Oh, any Cabinet level Minister can, for work done in his Department, apart from the usual Colleges and Universities. I’ve also enrolled her in a special MDE course for working students in my alma mater South Eastern Islands Provincial Academy in Buhi City. During times when she is not on a DATA mission, she studies Dark Energy. She’ll be an MDE like me. Her Tamawo nature allows her to do all these things all at the same time.’

‘She isn’t leading a normal teenager’s life, is she?’ Elam noted.

Lili chuckled. ‘No she isn’t. Keep in mind she isn’t fully human. No window shopping, no girls’ talk, no genuine boyfriends. Don’t get me wrong, she gets into physical relations with men during her missions, but there is no emotional investment from her perspective. Just like me when I started. She’s like my clone little sister, except for one thing.’

Elam hesitated. ‘You mean that Walay is in love with Tuman, don’t you?’

Lili turned to him in surprise. ‘It’s obvious even to you Elam? Darkling emotions can strikingly seem human-like, but often in off-tangent ways that are both passionate and ruthless. A well-known one is the typical avatar’s attachment to her Maker. Same thing happens to the Possessed; they’re known to be obsessed about their donor Makers. It worries me. The Tamawo are reputed to fall in love only once, and for life. I always avoid doing so, because I know it can be very inconvenient. Or after such a childhood of misadventures, I’m just incapable of falling in love.’

‘You certainly are obsessed with Manong Duro, Lili. You just had to spy on him all the time, and even now are doing your best to fill in his shoes as the Maestra of the Sun and Sky.’

Lili did a double take. After a pause, she continued.

‘For Walay, it can be dangerous. Tuman has been reclassified as a dangerous secessionist in DATA files. Damn it. Theoretically I could be ordered to assassinate him. Or Walay could be ordered to assassinate him. DATA traditionally has never cared what its agents personally think or feel as long as they do their mandated job. A DATA agent that refuses a direct order is punished by execution.’

‘So you take a bus to your hometown? No car?’ Walay asked. They had parted ways with the other students and were waiting. They were inside a bus, leaving urban Tubo City for the rural hinterlands..

‘Yes. Daan town is on the eastern side of Tubo Island, a 6 hour trip,’ Tuman grinned at her. Your Shield could take a dozen trips around the world by then. My family isn’t exactly fabulously rich, although not as dirt poor as some of our neighbors. My father works as an encargado, a sugar cane farm manager, for one of the smaller hacindero landowners. He was just barely able to afford to pay my miscellaneous costs in Tunga University.’

‘Fortunately, I got into a scholarship due to my graduating valedictorian of my high school class here in Tubo, and getting into the top ten of the Tunga University entrance exams. I get free tuition, free lodging, even until today, but I have to pay for my food and transportation. Father used to send me a small allowance every month, but I’ve asked him to stop and use the money to cover for the school expenses of my younger sister. Things have become better after I graduated summa cum laude. I easily got a job in a private school in Tunga City, and am pursuing a Ph.D in the University. I spend all my money on organizing and maintaining Kaluwasan in Tunga University and in the internet. I have to pay school organizations’ fees, internet fees for blogs and websites, and snacks for our meetings. It all just accumulates.’

‘Father is a little miffed at me for getting into Anthropology. It doesn’t pay much. The children of our neighbors in the farms of Daan that have graduated and found a job in the Mainland are now sending money to help out their families. I don’t.’

‘Why didn’t you ever get a girlfriend?’

Tuman sighed. ‘I’ve always been the classic nerd. My departed mother, may she find a better place in the Tela, was the bastard daughter of the father of the hacindero that owns our farm. She could not inherit anything, being illegitimate, but she always had access to all the facilities of the hacienda, including a small library. When she got pregnant with me by my Father, my hacindero grandfather got so mad that he drove her out of their house, and nearly kicked out Father’s family out of the hacienda. My birth change my grandpa’s disposition, and he eventually made Father, who was a good and honest worker the encargado after he fired the previous one for chronic thievery of funds meant for the farm.’

‘Our standing in the hacienda again changed from good to bad, when my grandfather died. Mother also died soon afterward, due to complication from giving birth to my sister. Her brother, my uncle, became the new owner of the hacienda, and he had never forgiven my Father for impregnating his sister. On the other hand, he could not just fire him because that meant his nephew, me, and niece, my sister, would sink to the level of street children. In the end he retained my Father as encargado, although he made it clear that he wasn’t going to spend a single centavo for our upbringing; that was Father’s responsibility. However, like my Mom, I got free access to the hacienda’s library and all the books and computers in there. While most of the children in the hacienda’s workers’ camp were playing kid’s games, I was usually browsing through electronic books and hardbounds in the library’s computers and old bookshelves.’

‘Is your story another way of saying you don’t know how to court a girl?’ Walay was smiling at him mischievously.

‘You want me to court girls?’ Tuman gamely replied.

‘No.’ Walay frowned, troubled.

‘What’s wrong Walay?’

Tuman pointed at a group of men and women chopping down sugar cane on a partially cleared lot by the roadside. They wore long sleeved shirts and various clothing around their necks and heads. ‘See they’re chopping the stem near the ground and removing the leaves with their machetes. They pile the stems up on the ground, and later sling a load of them over their shoulders. They carry them up the truck on that narrow wooden plank from the ground to the rear of the truck. My Father began working as a teenager like that.’

‘Why don’t they mechanize, like in the Western Continental Nations?’

‘Cheaper to use human labor in Offshore Alogostan. Besides, it provides jobs for the people here.’

The bus climbed up the side of a volcano. ‘Mt Tubobuto, the most beautiful volcano in Alogostan, perfect cone shape.’

The bus traveled along a ridge on the side of the volcano. The scenery changed from monotonous sugar cane to rice paddies, all arranged in rectangular lots terraced up and down the slope, painting a mosaic of green and brown patchwork sewn across the side of the mountain. White egrets intermingled with wallowing black water buffaloes in the fields and streams.

‘It’s beautiful!’ Walay exclaimed.

‘This area used to be public land, which the Alogostani government awarded to landless farmers 30 years ago during an agricultural reform. The small farmers began terracing and planting rice along the slopes, instead of commercial sugar the big haciendas and sugar mills produce.’

On the other side of Mt Tubobuto, they could see the eastern green shore of the island ending in an aquamarine sea. Small towns like clumps of miniature toy houses followed interspersed along the shoreline.

Tuman closed his eyes and began to nod his head repeatedly. Walay placed her hand on top of his head and lowered it on her left shoulder and gently stroked his hair. She lifted his right arm and placed it over her right shoulder and chest. Tuman fell asleep, head on her left shoulder, arm across her right shoulder and breast. An uppity woman across the aisles frowned at Walay disapprovingly and shook her head in a ‘you’re too young for that’ kind of expression. Walay promptly gave her the finger with her right hand. Shocked the woman turned away.

The bus made a stop-over in a small town on the eastern shore. ‘I’m going to the bathroom, pangga,’ Walay said. Tuman nodded and began to doze off again.

Leaving the bathroom, Walay stopped. By a small table in a canteen, drinking coffee by herself, was a pretty young girl, dressed in cargo pants and T shirt. A duffle bag lay on the chair beside her. Walay typed into her tabcom using the DATA quantum encrypted comband, absolutely spy proof even to DATA itself. ‘Is it cloudy?’ The girl’s tabcom beeped. She looked at it in surprise and typed back, ‘You better seek shelter.’

Walay walked up and sat in front of her. ‘Ok I’ll take shelter with you, Talatala.’

‘Oh yeah. I’m hoping I can get one for myself pretty soon.’

‘You’re on a mission?’

‘Yes. For some reason, Deputy Minister Duso has been reassigning Hybrid field agents to Tubo Island this past week, giving rather flimsy reasons or none at all. Most have been instructed to simply standby in Dakobalud resort and wait for further orders. As for me, he conjured up an assassination mission from nowhere. Fortunately it’s a soft target. So it’s alright for us to talk. It’s some internet surfer who’s unfortunate enough to get classified as dangerous secessionist by DATA central. I don’t even know why they bother with these armchair warriors. They’re just kids who fantasize about being part of a great cause while punching keys on a computer. I already feel sorry for the poor bastard. But orders are orders.’

‘You don’t look like you’re on a mission.’

‘Since when did we ever look like we’re on a mission when we’re on a mission?’

‘Why don’t you come with me? I’m going surfing in Dakobalud.’

Talatala ignored the invitation and continued talking in a run-on chit chattering way. ‘Listen Walay. We performed well in our last duet mission, terminating that bunch of crime lords who grew too big for their britches and thought they could take over a city. We have good team chemistry. We like each other. You can help me scope out the place. I don’t know a thing about this Island. During one reward leave, I happened to bump into Agent Tuya, and I ended up helping her terminate her mark. While we’re on reward leave, we can do whatever we want, no questions asked. Guess what? Minister Kusgan gave a reward leave not only to Tuya, but also to me, a second straight one. He probably will give you another one too, if you help me nail this poor bastard.’

‘No thanks Tala. I’m off to surf in Dakobalud beach. I decided to take the bus in order to see Mt Tubobuto and its rice terraces.’

‘Common, Walay. It’s just five towns from here; Daan town. Hey, after all there’s the remains of an old Sayabi Polytemple over there, according to my briefing. Aren’t you Sayabi, from the Islets? You and I can visit it after the mission. My parents are devotees of Polytemplism, and I can say to them I’ve made the pilgrimage to a pre-Shift Polytemple that they’ve always wanted me to do. S__t, your ancestors made that place; don’t you want to see it?’

‘Not particularly interested, Tala. My ancestors came from Nova Continent an ocean away, not from Alogostan at all. Tell you what. Just beep me up when you’ve completed your mission, and I’ll make a reservation for you in the resort. We can go surfing for a day, date some nice guys, and then visit the Polytemple. Isn’t that your bus leaving?’

As the bus entered Daan town, still a few kilometers away from the town proper, Walay stood up and signaled the conductor to stop at a waiting shed. Tuman looked at her in surprise. ‘We’re getting down, pangga.’ She climbed down the bus, followed by the puzzled Tuman.

Beyond the waiting shed was the ruins of a PolyTemple. A portion of it been restored. It was cordoned off by a small fence, and a few tourists were lining up a booth, paying their entrance fees. Guides were waiting to tour them.

‘You want to see the Temple first? No need to pay up there. I can tour you myself,’ Tuman said. He led Walay to a rubble off the main Temple complex. At the back of it was a small tunnel covered by vegetation. The tunnel led to a large room, whose cracked ceiling allowed rays of sunlight to enter.

‘This is an adjunct temple, one of many surrounding the main complex. That tunnel over there leads to the main Temple where the tourists are. Those other tunnels lead to other minor worship places and rest houses.’

There was a patter of feet and laughter coming from one of the tunnels. Walay reached under her short skirt and came up with her standard DATA issued 9mm pistol with silencer.

Tuman gaped at her. ‘What the hell are you doing! Don’t shoot!’

A group of about a dozen children came out of the tunnel. They stared at Walay’s gun.

‘Oh it’s just a toy gun.’ Walay smiled at them. She reached inside her duffle bag, and offered them a handful of candy. The children hesitated. The oldest, a boy of about 10, came up and took them. ‘You are very pretty manang.’ he shyly said. Then they ran off into another tunnel.

‘What the f__k are children doing in here pangga? These ruins can just collapse anytime!’

‘Notice anything unusual about their clothes and their talk?’

Walay stopped. A look of amazement crossed her face. ‘By the Tela, they were dressed in traditional Sayabi costumes. They were speaking Sinayabi. Strange accent but I would recognize that singsong speech anywhere.’

‘Look at your hand.’

Walay did. The candies were still there. ‘What the double f__k! He took the candies!’

‘It was all just an illusion. This whole place is under a Preservation Veil. Only I and a few Kaluwasan members know about it. To the outside world, these are empty ruins.’

‘Why isn’t the Department of Antiquities aware of this?’

Another group of people, monks by their apparel, appeared from another tunnel. One of them nodded amiably toward them. ‘Nice to see you again Sri Tuman. I see you’ve gotten yourself a partner.’

Tuman flushed, then recovered his bearing and bowed. ‘This is my fiancée, Walay. Walay dear this is Sri Tabok.’

Tabok bowed before Walay. Unexpectedly, he suddenly smiled. ‘Take care of our Tuman. He’s our only modern-day regular visitor and a dear friend. I guess we better get going and give you two more time for yourselves.’ All the monks bowed again and they proceeded to one of the passages.

After they had left, Tuman smiled. ‘The Veil only lifts for Sayabis, and those that they accompany. It partially lifts for me because I’ve learned to speak Sinayabi.’

Tuman led her to a small tunnel and into a dead end chamber. Walay did a double take. Engraved on a wall was an image of a balanghay, an ancient wooden boat with outriggers.

‘If you could imagine enlarging this, broadening its middle, transforming it into a cruise ship, you’d end up with the Shield.’ Tuman next gestured to a tablet with inscriptions in ancient Sinayabi script.

‘I don’t understand ancient Sayabi script, pangga,’ Walay said.

Tuman put on a story telling voice. ‘My house is located in a hacienda right next to these ruins. When I was not in the library, I was here exploring. It was the only excitement in my childhood years. Pretty soon I grew fascinated not only with the ruins but also with its ancient peoples. Their cultural remains are everywhere in these ruins. Statues, engravings, coins, cooking utensils, tablets, you name it. That’s why I wanted to become an Anthropologist.’

‘Since this was a Sayabi ruin, I learned to read its ancient inscription in archives in Tunga University. After I did that, I returned here as a third year college student and peered at some of these old tablets. This tablet essentially describes the Preservation spell. When I came back and read it, a monk named Huna appeared to me, very indistinct at first, and explained things to me. I strove to speak Sinayabi more fluently, and she became more and more real.’

Tuman was staring at her. ‘Huna your robes are orange!’

‘They’ve always been orange, my dear Tuman.’

‘No they were gray. Everyone here is gray. You yourself said they were gray.’

Walay turned to Tuman. ‘Well it’s definitely orange now. Something has changed in the Tela. Huna’s memories will change as well and she will remember her robes as orange. I’ve read of these pre-Shift ruins scattered all over Tera, in the MDE course I’m taking. They sometimes have ancient Preservation Veil spells that allow Tela ghosts to remain in them, like records of a past that may have been. You have to speak the language of the ghosts in order to lift the Veil.’

Huna was staring at Walay in astonishment. ‘Strange accent but that’s Sinayabi alright. I thought our people was dead!’

Walay looked at her. ‘No, we’re not. Not yet anyway. I’m Walay by the way.’ She bowed. Huna bowed back.

‘Your robes are orange. Somehow, Walay has changed your appearance and even your memories,’ Tuman noted.

‘You’re probably right,’ Huna mused. ‘Do you have news from the outside?’

‘You always ask that Huna, then you forget most of what I say.’

Walay interrupted them. ‘The MDE courses have subjects on these Tela ghosts. They range from benign, malicious, helpful, murderous, silent, talkative, friendly, frightful, and so on. They’re like computer holograms with a hint of artificial intelligence, and keep on rebooting to a default program, depending on who is talking to them or other changes in their environment. They cannot exist outside their Veil. Their presence is triggered by sentient humans or darklings in the vicinity of the Veil. Isn’t that right Sri Huna?’

Huna bowed. ‘Huo, Sri Walay. My first memory in my present awakening were of Dark empowered beings talking in an off tangent plane across a narrow Tela curtain from the here and now. The presence of such creatures usually rouses us up from our slumber.’

Walay frowned. ‘What were they saying?’

‘I shall quote them as closely as I can. Creature 1: A Connection has opened into the darkness. Creature 2: That is just opportune for us. Now we can bring in hundreds.’

‘And?’

‘That’s all I heard. I do not know what it means.’

Walay did not know quite what to say. ‘Uh, your story doesn’t make much sense to me.’

Huna shrugged, changing topics. ‘If I may ask why did you come here?’

Walay opened her mouth, then closed it again. ‘I had, uhm, something to say to Tuman. In private.’

‘Damn. That was amazing. I’ve never heard of a Preservation Veil that had maintained a record of the ancient Sayabi,’ Walay exclaimed.

‘What is it that you wanted to say to me, pangga?’ Tuman asked.

Walay sobered up. ‘Tuman you have to get out of here. Out of Tubo Island. Out of Alogostan. I’ve confirmed that you’ve been reclassified to a Dangerous Secessionist by DATA. An assassin has been sent into Daan town to target you.’

‘You’ve got to be joking, Walay. What am I? I don’t even know how to shoot a gun. As for Kaluwasan it consists of 20 students and post grads whose main preoccupation is to loiter around in cyberspace.’

‘Please Tuman, the assassin they sent is my most frequent partner, a Hybrid. Maybe even a Tamawo like myself. They’re rare in the Mainland, but DATA has a knack for finding Hybrids and recruiting them in view of their quickness, strength, and precociousness. I bumped into her in our last stop-over. She’s a couple of years older than me, and she’s better than me. If you meet her, you might think she’s a clueless talkative flirt, but she has racked up the second best kill rate among active agents, next to Manang Lili. I won’t be able to defend you when she hits you, and hit you she will.’

Tuman hesitated. ‘What are you planning for me, pangga?’

‘You go to the highway and take the first bus coming out of Daan town. I proceed to Dakobalud resort in order to maintain my cover, as I told the assassin, so as not to arouse suspicion. You get off the first town with a Port. You take the first boat away from Tubo Island. You wait in the next Island, get or borrow a secondhand tabcom so that your calls can’t be traced and contact one of the avatars of the Shield, informing her of your location, and please don’t mention your name. They’ll recognize your voice. I charter a small boat, go there, and pick you up secretly on some deserted shore. Then we try to make our way to the Far Islets, where you’ll stay off the grid. Depending on the circumstances, maybe you could proceed to Nova Continent, where you will disappear from DATA’s eyes. I shall visit you every time I have a reward leave, spend some quality time with you, and give you all the savings I have over my board and lodging needs, so you won’t have to worry about becoming a beggar. DATA routinely takes off people that are missing off its hit list after a 4 year waiting period. Even if they reappear but don’t engage in dangerous activities, they aren’t put back in the list unless they’re guilty of a heinous crime. So you wait 4 years either in the Far Islets or in Nova Continent, and when you’re off the DATA hit list you can come back.’

‘You’re asking me to leave my father, sister, job, Kaluwasan, and everything else, and accept voluntary self exile to a place I do not know.’

Walay did not answer. She just tried to gaze the truth into his eyes.

‘OK. Let me talk to my Father first.’

‘You can’t tell him anything Tuman. It would endanger his life. We are talking about DATA here, Alogostan’s own version of the secret police in Fascist Nations.’

‘Then just let me talk to him period. I might not be able to do so again.’

As dusk turned to night, they walked across the ancient ruins. Amazingly, they saw people dressed in ancient Sayabi apparel walking around in a completely ordinary manner in the Temple grounds. Most were worshippers, devotees, pilgrims, or monks. They would sometimes converse with them, but the cultural contexts of their perspectives differed so much that both sides had difficulty completely comprehending each other. Even references to such commonplace topics as the Ares colony would elicit only puzzled stares.

Halfway through the ruins Huna joined them.

‘Why are there people outside the tunnels, Huna?’ Tuman asked.

Huna looked at him quizzically. ‘There have always been people in the open, walking around the Temple grounds.’

‘You’re asking the wrong question, pangga,’ Walay said. ‘Sri Huna, what do you see around you? What is the condition of the buildings in this Temple complex?’

‘They’re completely fine. Are they supposed to look any different?’

‘Are many of the buildings collapsed? Do you see a lot of rubble?’

Huna looked amused. ‘Of course not, Sri Walay. The buildings are intact and functional; worshippers are entering and exiting them all the time.’

‘Huna may I ask how do you remember anything at all? What are you memories? I think you may be living in one of them.’

‘You may be right, Sri Walay, and my world may only be a lighted illusion of a memory of things that may or may not have existed. If you are asking what I remember, there are flashes of scenes, disjointed but in great detail.’

‘You sound like an Anachronista. Elam describes his visions in the same manner.’

A ditch marked the north boundary of the Temple ground. Beyond it was all sugar cane. They followed the ditch until they came across an open field where the canes had just been harvested. They crossed into it. Huna disappeared.

Tuman turned toward the ruins, looking sad. ‘I know she is only a shade, but it was her that taught me about Polytemplism and how to speak Sinayabi. My organization Kaluwasan was founded at her suggestion.’

‘If she keeps on making those suggestions, the Tela might upgrade her from being a ghost into an Anachronista,’ Walay opined quite seriously.

After a kilometer of relaxed strolling across the empty fields, they neared a small settlement. Tuman pointed to the largest house in front of the settlement. ‘That’s the campo and that house is my home. You’re coming with me?’

‘No pangga. My presence would only endanger your family. No one must know we went together into this town at all.’

Tuman proceeded toward the camp. Walay trudged back to the ruins. Huna, Tabok, and several monks met her at the boundary. They entered the nearest relatively intact building. The monks entertained her late into the night with tales from the end of the Great Dark Shift era. Past midnight, Walay began to yawn.

‘Sleepy, are you?’

‘Huo, it’s been a tiring day.’

Huna tousled Walay’s coppery hair.

‘Let me sing you to sleep with a story from my dreams. It’s a Sayabi binalaybay, poem-like and rhyming.’

“I was a stranger in a strange land. The place was a Sayabi the future to us is bringing, except that it was Alogostani that all the residents were speaking, and there were no Sayabi left; none in the rippling sidewalks, none in the gray housings, none in the smoky buildings, a culture of its soul reft.

The citizenry were as shadows meandering. They were everywhere, and constantly conversing. These shades crowded my ears with a flat sound buzzing; the usual low pitched static of a mindless mob murmuring. But even this was wrongly askew. Pray, you ghosts, tell me what is due? I strained the air for a bare refrain of my ancient tongue; but the air was empty, all melody had gone.

My heart thudded, and I knew panic had come. I wanted out; may this nightmare be done!

One of the passersby seemed more real than the rest. She was rounding a corner; after her I ran my best. I stopped her to query:

Where have all the Sayabis gone? She smiled, ‘Gone to nothing, everyone.’

I could only look at her uncomprehendingly, and her voice felt familiar as she answered my stare kindly.

‘Do you not recall? The Government made Alogostani the National Language for all; and so it was taught in all schools to all the Sayabi youth. Sinayabi lost its value and our grandmothers ceased to speak it as they should.’

Through a wavering dreamscape on and on walked we. Endlessly bothered, how could this be? The streets were the same, yet strange and alien; the place known to me, yet hollow and foreign. The infrastructures were there. Men, women, and children were there. Dogs and cats were there. A complete habitation was there.

Yet no way could I mistake it for my own, for it was not whole. How could this be, a cover without the book, a book without the ink, a people and culture who had lost their soul?

Through the dark smoggy streets anon, we walked on, and on, and on. Through the endless metal and plastic maze, through the silent crowds of whispering shades, the dreary dreamscape stretched forever and ever until…

We arrived at a house hazy yet prickly, all flat-angled yet sharply muddy. My escort said she would introduce me to her great grandmother who still spoke Sinayabi, the last of the Sayabi, the last one on Tera.

‘Come; let us meet the last Sayabi on Tera.’

Droplets of fear condensed on my brow, but I shook them off and my new friend I did follow. I realized now that I trusted her fine, for his face seemed familiar, somehow kin to mine. We went inside her dwelling of dried dust, and the smog of the land crept right in with us.

We entered her great grandmother’s room, a time in nexus; and behold, everything past and present was in focus. The room, door, floor, and furniture were made like ancient woods; encircled by wardrobe, desk, chairs, and shelves full of books. Large windows let in the fresh scent of a morning breeze; through them I could see the dawn-sun lighting an azure sky and verdant fields.

Sitting on a comfy bed was an old woman, still strong and lean. Bright colors lit the room, and it seized me, a thought most mean.

This is no dream!

We spoke in Sinayabi.

Oh to hear my mother tongue one final time; what life it brings to hear the language truly mine! Now I knew the thing that could right this land of wrongs. The old woman’s speech was the sweetest of songs. Her joy was uncontainable at meeting a countrywoman who spoke the old tongue true to the soul of our land. She spoke of the past, as though it could last, for it seemed more real than the present that was meaningless and the future doomed to hopelessness.

Patiently I waited for the end of her story. Then I asked her the question that had endlessly troubled me.

‘How did this thing happen, that our people are dead?’

She looked at me keenly and in a sad, sad voice said:

‘You only have to look at yourself.’

The world swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors. Suddenly nauseous, I began to dodder. I peered at her face, and nearly fell over.

I was looking at myself!

The old woman was as real as me; a much, much older me; an all alone, lonely version of me. The last of my people was me!

Early next morning, footsteps woke her up as he entered the building. Walay was instantly sitting up and pointing her 9mm pistol at Tuman.

‘Hey Walay! It’s only me. Huna met me by the boundary ditch and pointed out this building.’

She stood up and embraced him.

‘How did it go?’ she asked him of his visit to his home.

‘A memorably normal visit. Father and Dutay were expecting me, because I had already called them up way back in the Shield. To my surprise, my uncle was there, the owner of the Hacienda. We went to town, and had dinner in the finest restaurant, care of my uncle of course. We returned to our homes. I went to bed, woke up, had breakfast, talked with Father and Dyutay, and then I said goodbye. As far as they know, I have applied for a high paying job abroad, but I would not tell them where as I wanted it to be a surprise.’

Walay looked worried. ‘You went into town for dinner? Did you notice a pretty girl, a bit older than me, yellow hair, anywhere and anytime during your visit?’

‘Not really.’

‘She could have been with an older relative, with a group of young friends, window shopping, reading a magazine, begging by the road, or even engaging in sexual acts with a man in an alley.’

Tuman frowned. ‘There was a couple smooching in the waiting shed at the entrance road to the hacienda. The guy was a young migrant worker I think because I did not know him. We could not see the girl’s face, but she had red hair. When we returned, there was a tricycle parked by the waiting shed. A red haired girl, perhaps the same one we saw earlier, was sitting on the lap of a man. Again we could not see her face. Dyutay, my sister was disgusted, saying that she knew the old driver, who occasionally would flirt with her whenever she happened to take his tricycle.’

‘What was the girl wearing?’

‘A violet skirt and black sando tank top.’

Walay gestured at the large duffle bag Tuman was carrying. ‘May I examine your bag? Please, it’s important. I promise to put everything back in place.’ Without waiting for Tuman’s permission, Walay grabbed his bag and began examining it from the outside, centimeter by centimeter.

‘Hey!’

Walay ignored him. She completed her examination of the bag’s exterior. Then she unzipped it and began removing the contents, examining each one carefully.

After several minutes, she announced ‘It’s clean.’ She placed back all the contents. As she returned several envelopes to an inner pocket, she asked, ‘what are these?’

‘Application forms for membership to Kaluwasan. We have digital copies of them in our blogs and websites that can be printed. We also give them out by hand in schools in Tunga city, and also here in Tubo Island, because some Kaluwasan members come from here. The potential recruits are instructed to mail them or hand them over to my house’s address in the hacienda campo. Don’t worry I’ve already opened all of them and read them. I’m planning to mail them to Kaluwasan in Tunga City later on from a safe place. No bombs in them, I can assure you.’

‘Alright. It’s still best if you get out of this place quickly. Since you went to town last night, I’ve no doubt Agent Talatala has already seen you, whether you’ve seen her or not.’

After Tuman had rested for about 30 minutes, and at Walay’s insistence, they exited the small ruined building where Walay had spent the night. They walked across the Temple ruins, and back to the highway, keeping out of sight of the main tourist paths. They met no one except for Huna and the Temple’s ghosts. They were strangely reticent, as though sensing the nervous tension Walay was feeling.

The Temple ground ended in another ditch by the side of the highway. Huna was the only one with them by that point. Her bright saffron robes had faded to a mute gray.

‘I cannot cross the ditch. The road is beyond the Veil. Goodbye Sri Tuman,’ the Polytemplist monk said.

Tuman hugged Walay for a full minute, then kissed her. Walay gave him a purse full of 1000 peso Bugu coins. ‘For your everyday needs, until you get settled.’ She hugged him in turn. ‘Don’t worry pangga. We’ll be seeing each other again in a couple of days. As soon as you get to another Island, contact the avatars.’

It was goodbye. They gazed at each other’s eyes as softly as the moon lights up the quiet night.

They bowed before each other. Walay quickly crossed the ditch and managed to wave down the bus before it could pass her. As she boarded, she turned back to the ruins.

Huna and her gray robes flashed like a brilliant sunflower, and then disappeared.

Walay took one of the backmost seats. Her bus made a stop-over in Daan town, but she did not get out. She felt sad and scared at the same time, a novel sensation for her. She stared at her tabcom, tempted to call up Tuman, just to hear his voice and ascertain he was fine, but decided that DATA might have ways to trace her call, especially from a tabcom it had issued to her.

Five hours later, Walay got off the terminal of Dakobalud town. Within walking distance was its famous beach resort. She decided to take some coffee first at a small canteen in the terminal. Her tabcom rang in the special DATA quantum encrypted comband.

‘Hey Walay!’ It was Talatala. ‘Where are you?’

‘Here in Dakobalud already. How did your mission go?’ Walay’s heart thumped.

‘Just fine miga. I’m on my way there already; I’m on a bus right now. Damn! I’m depressed. I could take a break right now. I changed my appearance somewhat; my hair is now of the same color as yours.’

‘What happened?!’

‘Oh, I printed out a copy of the Kaluwasan application form, and attached a microscopic transmitter on it, placed it in an envelope, then dropped it in the mark’s house in a hacienda yesterday afternoon when I arrived in Daan town. His sister received it, and I asked her to give it to him. I said I was a student in Tunga University who lived in Tubo City. That was plan A. Afterward I dyed my hair red, changed into a skirt and tank top, and hanged around in a waiting shed near the hacienda entrance necking with a succession of bums, so that if he came out, I would initiate plan B and shoot another micro transmitter onto his clothes or bag, or perhaps shoot an amp-dart directly into him. I could not do it because whenever I saw him there, he was with family members inside a car, which was unexpected because my preliminary study on him indicated his family did not own any. I spent the entire night in the tricycle of the ugliest obese maniac you can imagine doing you-know-what.’

‘Next morning, my radio transmitter indicated that the mark seemed to have crossed the Polytemple ruins directly from the hacienda, which left only plan A. I presumed he wanted to return back to Tubo city. I rented for my personal service one of those vans for hire for ten thousand pesos in Daan town, and took off after him. Anyway he suddenly got off Kilid, three towns away from Daan, and went to a small pier there.’

Talatala was chattering in her usual apparently clueless manner, which belied the seriousness of her talk’s content.

Tala put on a forlorn face.