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Sonora IV, Page 3

G. F. Hellstern


  John smoothed his blue robe. “Tacito desires balance, so he makes excuses for others.” He nodded at the man in white and gestured to the chair. “Please, sit down, Josué.”

  Since his father was already engaged in conversation with the man in gold, Josué slid onto his seat. “Did you hear him, too?” He asked the man referred to as Tacito.

  Tacito nodded, his eyes accented by the white in his robe.

  Looking at John, Josué thought the words, Thank you. I like this place.

  John’s smile grew and he winked at Tacito.

  Tacito continued, “We all look at things in our own way. Mateo over there in gold seeks to establish order. Ignacio in the green seeks to find out about things. He’s always in a book.”

  The man in green looked up from the pages of a small book, took off his reading glasses and smiled sheepishly. “What? Oh, don’t mind me, Josué. I’m reading settler literature.” He lifted a book with the picture of a rhinoceros on the front. “It’s a treatise on the species of Earth. Fascinating creatures on that planet.”

  “Don’t let Tacito bother you with his theories on behavior.” John passed Josué some water. “He’s got us all classified and pinned up under a microscope. There’s hardly much weight to those personality types.”

  Tacito smiled at Ignacio. “Ignacio is a Melancholic as your Greeks used to call them – Analyst, as the modern psychologists put it.” Then he nodded at the man in gold. “Mateo, a Choleric-Controller. John is a Phlegmatic-Stabilizer and I’m a Sanguine-Persuader.”

  “Quite.” Ignacio gave a weak grin and rolled his eyes.

  “It’s as plain as the four elements of the universe. You’ll give me that, won’t you? Fire, wind, earth, and water? They’ve studied this since the beginning of time, on our planet and others.”

  Josué chewed a bite of the sweet meat, amazed at the explosion of taste in his mouth. He’d studied personality theory in school. “So what am I?”

  “You are balance – water. A stabilizer, like John.” Tacito smiled at him.

  “But what he doesn’t tell you.” Ignacio leaned forward. “Is that you can be anything you need to be at any time.”

  “Yes, the pitfall of the personality study,” John added. “It’s okay to classify core drives, as long as you free a man to act accordingly in a given situation.”

  Ignacio put his reading glasses back on and returned to his book. “We are all different from one another,” he said without looking up.

  “Yes, common drives do not preclude uniqueness among the kinds.” Tacito continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “It’s simply a reflection of the patterns in your brain. Three lobes – three personalities, with the fourth personality composed of the intersection of the three. If my brain favors the left lobe, I’ll be more analytical, like Ignacio here. If my brain favors the right, I’ll be more controlling like Mateo. If my brain favors the lower lobe, I’ll be more feeling. Stabilizers tend to the center, the intersection of the three.”

  “You will notice, Josué.” John leaned over and spoke in a low voice. “Tacito has a large capacity for controlling behavior.”

  Josué sat straight and took a drink of his water. “Fascinating.” The idea he was a stabilizer had never crossed his mind, but he could see how he liked to find balance in things. Maybe that was why the long pole was his favorite weapon.

  “I knew you’d see my point.” Tacito smiled and began to eat.

  At that moment Mateo’s words grabbed Josué’s attention. “We see the necessity of your struggle with the Omri Family perhaps clearer than you do. It is a struggle you must win.” Mateo paused, glancing at Josué. “I must advise you – the sacred sands warn of an immediate danger to your family. I fear for your safety. Josué must survive.”

  Josué wondered if the elders somehow knew about the Omri activity. Perhaps they had some information of an attack. As he reached to fill his glass with more water, he marveled at how at home he felt among these men. It was obvious Mateo cared about their survival. Maybe the man knew his mother.

  “We’ve taken steps to protect ourselves.” His father was using his best diplomatic voice, the kind that always put Josué to sleep. “I’ve installed an obfuscator. The Omri Family has limited resources . . . .”

  Turning back to the others, Josué noticed John looking at him with a sober expression.

  After the meal, the blue-robed elder escorted the two of them back to the perimeter of spikes. The noise of the skimmer buzzed just beyond the barrier.

  “How did you know where we’d be, Gary?” Porfirio asked as they boarded the skimmer.

  “I got your radio call,” the pilot responded.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Josué watched his father’s confused smile and wondered how he could look even more tired than on their trip out here. The conversation with Mateo must have been a serious one and Gary’s comment had disturbed them both. They had never made a radio call.

  Chapter 5, War Council

  Josué entered Master Héctor’s sparring session with his thoughts far from the dojo. His mind traced the angles of the amphitheater and remembered the natural, sincere mental communication with Elder John. He smiled when he thought of Tacito’s personality theories and wondered what Mateo had been discussing so intently with his father.

  The blunt end of a pugel stick brought his attention back to the training room with harsh abruptness. Thoughts scattered. Tears welled into his eyes then he saw yellow. His arms and legs reacted. Twirling, he landed a blow on his teacher’s side, sending Héctor across the room.

  “Now your mind is here,” the Weapons Master replied with a gasp. “This is the fighter I saw yesterday.” Héctor let his stick rest on the mat and wiped a towel across his shaved head before taking a deep breath.

  Josué rested an elbow on the upright end of his pugel stick. “We visited the native village today.”

  Héctor nodded.

  “Héctor, what would happen if we were ever attacked?”

  “I think you’ll find that out soon enough.” Héctor rested his hands on his knees.

  “I mean, what would happen to our family if something were to happen – say, to father?” Josué shifted his weight.

  “You would become the Master of the Family. We would follow your direction.” Héctor stood straight, the frown on his face bending into a grimace. “You are the Trevino heir. The future of this Family rests on you.”

  Josué frowned. The answer gave him little comfort. He wondered where his unsettled feeling came from. Had Timeos’ attempt at his life gotten to him, or was it Mateo’s mention of imminent danger? He’d been trained for danger. It shouldn’t unsettle him. Still, it was different to face an actual attack. He grimaced when he thought of how things had gone in the mine.

  Héctor took another swing. Josué blocked it, though several more hits found his body before Héctor sent him away for not concentrating.

  ***

  After dinner, his father led him into the manor office, closed the door and locked it. Then he turned, folded his arms and stood.

  Wondering if the war council would be in this room, Josué searched his surroundings out of the corner of his eye. Where was Grandfather? Should he shake hands when he met him or give him a hug? Handshakes seemed safer.

  “Son, what I’m about to show you, only a handful of people know about. These are Trevino Family secrets, and they must die with you.”

  Josué held his father’s gaze until his eyes felt dry and bumps crept down his arms. Héctor’s words echoed in his mind, . . .you are the Trevino heir.

  “I mean it. No one must know the things you are about to see. Can you keep a secret?”

  His father’s face held nothing but seriousness. Josué hurriedly nodded. “Yes, Father, I can.”

  “Good.” Porfirio moved a statue of a horse on his desk. A panel in the back wall opened. Stepping into the passage, his father waved for Josué to follow. “This leads to the war room.” He steppe
d to the left, away from a ladder Josué knew was at the other end.

  At a yellow gate, his father paused. “This lift will take us down to a bunker your grandfather and I installed before you were born.” He opened it and helped Josué onto a cold metal bench.

  Lowering a safety bar over their legs, he reached up and flipped a switch. Cut rock whirled past Josué’s neck with a rush of wind, sending chills down his spine. The feeling of weightlessness grabbed at his knotted stomach.

  The small light at the top of the metal elevator frame illuminated large boulders as they passed. The clean cut stone, smooth metal bars and noiselessness of the lift filled his mind with images of sleek jet fighters. The militaristic nature of their family life struck him anew. He was used to guards in fresh pressed uniforms, weapons strapped to their backs, surrounding the compound. This ride into a secret bunker raised things. He could almost imagine their family having galactic reach and being associated with an organization like the Syndicate. Anticipation filled him. What was he about to see? How much could he learn? Would it be enough before an attack?

  “We’re going down 500 feet.” His father’s voice echoed dully in the solid-walled shaft. “There is a control room down here, stocked with supplies to last six months.”

  Josué gulped. “Six months! Why so long?”

  “In case we’re ever nuked.”

  The word ‘nuked’ landed on Josué’s ears like the leaden weight of the rock they were descending into. It was something he knew could happen, but never wanted to think about.

  At the bottom, the safety bar lifted and Porfirio led him to a room of video walls. “Here you can see watchtowers, man a turret, or activate mines around the perimeter. And.” Pointing to a large red button with a plastic shield over it, he said, “This button will level the manor above us if we are ever overrun. Rations and quarters are over there.” His father motioned to a door at the far end of the room.

  Trying to memorize every panel and button as his father pointed it out, he wondered what he would do if he ever had to man this control center.

  “Enrique helped design the place. It’s the premier control room of the Sonora IV Families.” His father’s smile told him how proud he was of that fact.

  As they turned a corner his father grabbed a large lever-handle to what looked like a room-sized safe, complete with spin-dial. “Welcome to your first war council, Josué.” Porfirio pulled the metal door open and held it for him.

  Bare silver walls, a mahogany table and leather chairs made the room look surprisingly welcoming and official, though the stale, warmish air was confining. The walls seemed solid and thick. As he stepped into the room, he wondered at how his footsteps made no sound.

  Héctor and Leonard sat with several other men Josué didn’t recognize around an oval table.

  As soon as his father crossed the threshold, the men in the room stood – all except for the tall white-haired gentleman at the far end.

  “Porfirio! So good to see you.” A man with a broad smile and dark hair kissed Josué’s father on the cheek.

  “Eberardo, meet my son, Josué.” Porfirio indicated the boy with an open palm.

  Eberardo’s thick hand shook Josué’s.

  “Eberardo is our eyes and ears in the ruling council.” His father stepped sideways to the next person, a thin man with a pointed mustache. “I’m sure you’ve seen Alvaron around the compound. He’s the chief of the guard.” His father patted the man on the arm.

  “You know Héctor and Leonard.” His father indicated the men across the table.

  Then his father led Josué to the end of the table to face the only person still seated. The man rose slowly as though unfolding himself. When he stood, he was slightly taller than Porfirio. A skeptical look filled his eye. He glanced sideways then down at Josué. A sudden wink and shaky hand on Josué’s shoulder betrayed the austerity of the man.

  “This is him?” the man asked with a split-second bounce, as though his knees had failed in that moment.

  Josué looked into coal black eyes and searched for a vague memory.

  His father’s hand fell on his other shoulder. “Josué, this is your grandfather, Hernan Trevino.”

  Josué smiled. Grandfather. He reached to shake the man’s hand and felt lanky arms enfold him in a hug. A lump burned in his throat.

  When his grandfather released him, his father was already back at the table’s head. As Porfirio sat, the rest of the men sat with him. Josué plopped down in the empty chair next to his grandfather.

  “Leonard, fill us in. What have you discovered?” Porfirio fixed his attention on the man with the easy smile.

  “The Omri Family has a plant,” Leonard stated matter-of-factly. “We’ve picked up electronic communications coming from their Manor to the Trevino lab.”

  “Right,” Josué’s grandfather interrupted, clearing his throat. “We’ve taken the precaution of securing the voice weapon prototype from the lab.” He patted a silver case on the table in front of him. “Our people will continue its development.”

  “We can expect an attack,” Leonard continued with a steel expression. “As early as tonight.” He leaned forward in his chair and searched the room.

  Josué searched the room too. Sober expressions filled every face. Héctor caught his wide-eyed stare and nodded. Their previous conversation came to mind.

  His father stared at Eberardo. The man shifted under his gaze as if sitting on something hot. “We can’t depend on any backing from the other Families. The hologram Atlantos sent around caused a panic. It seems none of the other Families have the stomach for a fight.” Eberardo held a stack of papers in the air. “They’ve signed onto Ormand’s payroll – everyone.” He threw the papers at the center of the table, tears glimmering in his eyes.

  Josué looked at the white stack and wondered what could have brought such shameful actions from the other Families.

  A frown creased his father’s brow, splitting a deep furrow between his eyes. Suddenly his fist slammed on the table.

  Josué jumped in his seat.

  “Curse that man Atlantos. He has no spine, and still they fear him.” The jaw muscles on his father’s face looked like they’d been cut from the stone of the elevator shaft. “What size of an attack should we expect?”

  Alvaron spoke up. “Worst case, Sire, we’d be outnumbered two to one. But. We hold the higher ground. Our defenses have been well supplied.”

  Porfirio nodded his head. His shoulders relaxed a little.

  “Sire, with all due respect, I suggest you and Josué stay down here for the night. It’s less risky if we know you are both safe.” Alvaron gripped the arm of his chair and pushed back against his seat.

  The thought of being holed up in a bunker made Josué cringe. Did they have that much to fear with the perimeter wall?

  “I will return to the city,” his grandfather spoke. “I have a safe place in the jail.”

  Porfirio turned to Leonard. “Your life is in danger if you return to Omri Manor. You can stay here, too.”

  Leonard nodded.

  Porfirio stood. The rest of the room stood. He met their gazes in turn. “Let’s get to work.”

  As they filed out of the room his father stepped over to Héctor. “Look at the monitors again. If it’s clear, take Josué up. Then get what you need before returning.”

  Héctor nodded and stepped into the control room.

  Josué followed, looking back at his father’s bowed, balding head. The sturdy frame under the loose-hanging sports coat seemed solid and immovable. This man would stand against the Omri Family, even if others did not. The thought filled him with admiration.

  Chapter 6, Fall of Trevino Manor

  Down in the bunker Héctor watched the monitors while Josué mentally cataloged his bedroom. How long would they be underground? Surely not six months. If they stopped by the weapons room, he could get something really useful, like a good long-staff. He didn’t want to get caught witho
ut one after his experience with Timeos.

  For a second, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Through a yellow haze, he saw men crouching in the jungle, shadows on the hologram wall. He shuddered and the image and his vision returned to normal.

  Josué shook his arms and flexed his wrists. His imagination was getting the better of him. Leonard’s report had been ominous. Nerves coursed through him. It was like he was about to take a test, only worse. “To think of an attack as early as tonight . . . .” he said to Hector, who simply nodded.

  Back at the lift, the bar lowered over their legs and the rocks rushed past in the opposite direction. The grey square of light at the top grew larger. Josué closed his eyes. Everything was moving so fast.

  At the top Héctor led him down a new passage and stopped at a wide panel in the wall. This one opened into the training room.

  In the mirrors against the back wall, Josué noticed how pale his own reflection looked. His arms and legs felt loose – too loose. He was hungry again after just having eaten.

  Héctor crossed the room, reached up to a shelf and pulled down a box. A stray curl of dark brown hair tumbled out of the side. Héctor smiled. “You’ll have to trust your father on this. He had it specially made.”

  Josué looked in the box. A costume of a native servant girl lay inside. “He wants me to pretend to be a girl?” Josué looked in disbelief at his Weapons Master.

  “Trust,” was all Héctor said. He held the door to the shower room.

  Josué shuffled his feet as he took the box.

  When he returned, he stared at himself in the mirror. The image of a native house servant stared back at him. “It will be hard to fight in a costume like this.”

  Héctor adjusted the tunic around his shoulders. “Your name will be Aissa from now on. You are a kitchen maid from the native village – that means no fighting.” Héctor’s voice carried the tone of a strict command. “Understand?”