Putkwyz, Ch.3 "Serious Games"

3



Serious Games


Relaxing after dinner over a game of Rubostio (a multidimensional board game with chess-like features occupying a three-tiered board: a few noble figures of high value and great power combine with many lowly pawns), I asked Mawgri who he thought our attackers had been.

“My guess is that they were assassins sent by Kra’s minions,” he said, but with his warm yellow eyes still centered on the board.

“Why? Because you trade with Saca and Kunwyz?”

“And don’t trade with him. I suppose he thought that removing me would put an end to trade, but it wouldn’t have. Another would have taken my place.”

“How?”

“No one is irreplaceable.”

“Of course, but it wouldn’t have been easy because you have special status being both Putkur and Stuwkreen.”

“That does make things easier. I know both cultures, both languages, and have characteristics of both beings. By the way, I have put your crystal emperor in a tight situation. You can now hope only for a stalemate.”

I returned my attention to the board. Sure enough, my emperor was surrounded on level two, and all I could do was trade crystal piece for obsidian piece until all major pieces were exhausted. Even so, I could not win. I tipped the crystal emperor over. “I concede. I’m going to practice when you’re not around.”

He laughed and said, “Don’t forget: tomorrow we meet with Sacacon.”

The next day I woke into the dim morning light of Putkwyz to find that Mawgri had gone out early for business and left me to my own devices.

After breakfast, I did have plans. I wanted to learn more about the religion Kandizam. I turned on Mawgri’s television and found a religious channel that was showing a Kandizam ceremony. A central person, the priest or shaman dressed in flowing robes, gave small portions of brown crackers and a dark plum-colored liquid to worshippers, who bowed before eating and drinking the small items. The sacrament was given first to the men on the right and then to the women on the left; in public the sexes were always segregated. After the sacrament came chanting of prayers and lighting of candles and burning of incense (which looked suspiciously like slazza). The altar had no image, for to make an image of the god was apparently forbidden. Unfortunately, my automatic translator works only being to being, not machine to being, so I had to listen to Saca Putkur speech, which I was just beginning to understand a little. I caught enough to know that the ceremony ended by hailing Sacacon, God’s ruler on Putkwyz. My question was this: Was Kandizam just a Saca religion or was it a planet-wide religion?

Then I looked through Mawgri’s library and found a book titled Kandizam: the People’s Religion, but written in Putkeen. Fortunately, it had pictures, whose captions I could decipher with the help of a Putkeen dictionary. The first picture was of a sacred mountain, Mt. Zaput, on which the god Zacon and his messenger Kandi had come to the planet. No one was allowed to go to the top of that mountain. The second was a painting of a green-glowing humanoid form, the god himself. The third picture was of the Saca Mot, the holy book, the Putkeen words that the god had given to the people, so they could live righteous and worthy lives. The fourth was a book written not in Putkur but in the language of the god itself. No one could read the words in that book, for none knew the letters or the sounds the letters made.

However, I could read the title; it was in English. The title in English was Log for Captain Christopher Hennessey of the Golden Hind. I knew the story of the Golden Hind, although I had not heard of Captain Hennessey. The Golden Hind was an exploration ship that had set out from Earth centuries ago to find new systems where humans could live and, if possible, to bring back wealth to Earth. It had headed toward the Crab Nebula as scientists had discovered in that direction stars that had planets of approximate Earth size and a distance from the star as Earth was from Sol. The last contact from the Golden Hind had been a frantic transmission that they were being pulled into a vortex of some kind. No other transmission was received. Earth had assumed that the crew had been lost.

Evidently, one crew member had survived, had managed to reach the Za System, landed on Putkwyz, and had started a religion or, more likely, had tried to teach his eclectic version of religion to the inhabitants of his new alien home. If that were true, I had a hunch that Kandizam would be a muddled imitation of one of the religions that had originated in Earth’s Asian regions.

My mind, now familiar with the topography of Saca, could imagine the first encounter between a technologically advanced being from Earth and the inhabitants of Putkur, who at that moment of contact would have been limited to arbez transportation and iron weapons. They might have had the wheel, although that was uncertain. The mountain—which I now very much wanted to visit—was the place where Hennessey’s spacecraft had touched down. Perhaps some Putkurs had seen the strange craft flying through the air and thought it was a chariot of the gods. Perhaps one or two brave souls had gone up the mountain to see it up close. If so, they would have confronted a being that glowed greenly because the early force-fields that Earth scientists had developed had been infamous for that green glimmer that indicated the perimeter of the field. Captain Hennessey would have had that green glow around him and it would have cast its verdigris shadows over him.

If his force field had been working, then he would have seemed invincible to the Putkurs, whose weapons could not have penetrated the field and who would have believed him to be a god. If he had asked for food, they would have offered plants and animals on an altar for him. With his weapons (gunpowder or laser) he could have seemed to be creating death from lightning and thunder. Perhaps that one person who first encountered him became his spokesperson, his spin doctor, and taught him the language of Putkurs. Then he and Hennessey wrote down the laws that all Putkurs should follow, creating the Saca Mot.

What had happened to Captain Hennessey? I very much wanted to read the log book and go up Mt. Zaput. I knew the answer would be either in the book or on the mountain or perhaps both.

After Mawgri returned home in mid-afternoon while the sky was its lightest and brightest gray, I told him what I had discovered and why I wanted to go up the mountain and read the log book.

He was astonished, but since he thought religions were mumbo jumbo anyway, the revelation was humorous to him. He had a good laugh, but then a caution. “Well, you have thoroughly amused me, but I don’t think these things should be revealed to the general population, some of whom take the religion very seriously.”

“What about Sacacon? What would he think? If he gave permission, I could read the book and go up the mountain.”

“I don’t know. To go up the mountain is strictly forbidden; even archaeologists have been warned to leave the mountain alone. To read the book is not, but you would have to explain how you could read the book. I could tell him that you think you might be able to interpret some of the book based on other languages that you know. That might get you in to see the book without too many questions. However, Sacacon, as politically astute as he is . . . even if he feels the same way I do . . . would never let the revelation into public since the religion gives him dominion over everything on Putkwyz.”

“To read the book would help a lot. As for the mountain, how about this? Since I’m neither Putkur nor from the Za system, the religion doesn’t apply to me. Could you convince him of that?”

“Maybe. I’ll try.” Then he paused and looked at me. “Are all your people as forward looking as you? They must be incredible people.”

“The Stuwkreen have done as well.”

“I suppose we are a close second to Earthlings, but we haven’t ventured beyond the Za System.” He identified himself as Stuwkreen even though he was part Putkur; his father had been Stuwkreen and he had grown up mostly on Stuwkrik.

“Because you have many livable planets and moons nearby. We were desperate to find other places to live.”

“That is true. We have a saying on Stuwkrik: Necessity begets all exploration.”

“We have a similar saying.”

“You know there is one planet closer to Za than Stuwkrik. We call it Mynçu. It is larger than Putkwyz and rotates very slowly. Our scientists have proposed that it could be terra-formed if we set down on the dark side and set up polarized bubbles that would absorb much of the heat and rays during the long daytime. With solar panels we could produce enough energy to run everything during the long dark night. Others say to land in the polar regions and live there in the dim twilight and slowly work our way up and down to the equator.”

“Either could work . . . or both.”

“Well, Malcolm, it’s all speculative for the moment. Such attempts are years away. So, let’s get ready to see Sacacon.”

To visit the great Sacacon, we had to dress formally: shiny black boots with long woolen socks, body suits of shiny white smur, and greatcoats of kepoc wool and gwarg leather softened to a warm suede dyed (blue for Mawgri, ochre for me) and with ruffled cuffs and neck of the feathers of the aubligado bird (yellow for Mawgri, red for me). We had matching wool inside suede gloves. For hats we wore wide-brimmed, ear-flapped hats with once again wool encased in leather, but this leather was smooth and hardened. When I looked in the mirror, I thought I resembled a Cossack dandy, if such had ever existed. Of course, we wore our mandatory weapons.

When I stepped out into the black night, I was greeted by the chilly air and my breath expired in clouds of moisture. I understood the need for the thick, warm clothes.

Once again, Luvark proudly drove us in his assigned yellow car. He let us out at the foot of the palace slope, where we mounted an elevator that carried us up the slope to the entrance to the palace, a yellow concrete wall with an iron grill gate. Above the yellow wall spaced fifty spaces apart were the red and purple pennants of Sacacon. All along the elevator slope were armed guards, and armed guards opened the gate for us after checking Mawgri’s identification.

A servant dressed in yellow smur led us into the palatial foyer, past paintings of former Sacacons, and sculptures of other heroes. He took Mawgri’s card and left us standing. We took our hats off, and I looked around and at the far end of the room I saw a Kandizam altar. Before it two guests in togas bowed and lit incense.

The servant returned and asked us to follow him. Instead of leading us into the throne room, he led us down a long hall to an antechamber that was brightly lit with electric lights ensconced along the wall. Many soft couches and chairs in yellows and reds were spread throughout the room. Beside each grouping of furniture were small tables holding carafes of water and magazines. I followed Mawgri to a central red couch and we sat. Mawgri seemed very much at ease, even a little bored. I poured myself a glass of water.

I said, “How will I know if it is all right to bring up the subject of Kandizam?”

“Oh, he might bring it up himself. If not, I will introduce the subject.”

“How well do you know him?”

“Better than most. Since I am not a subject, he treats me more as an equal. We’ve had some very interesting conversations. He really is quite intelligent. Besides, he relies on me for my insight into Stuwkrik and my relations with its leaders.”

The servant returned and announced, “Za Mawgri, the Sacacon will see you now.” Mawgri rose, said something about “business first” and followed the servant into another room. I remained stuck to the couch, frustrated that I had not been included in the meeting.

I passed the time looking through glossy Putkur magazines with splendid color photography and graphics. The first magazine I picked up seemed to be a kind of architectural digest with pictures of beautiful homes, palaces, churches, and commercial buildings. My Putkur was too limited to decipher much of the written articles other than to get an idea of the focus.

Another magazine was some kind of scientific journal, also with colorful photography, and with articles about breakthroughs in science. “Hrinthum may not have been correct!” blared the title of one piece. I didn’t know if Hrinthum was a person, an object, a procedure or a system; but my limited Putkur had allowed me to understand the smaller words. The pictures illustrating the article showed a view of the Za System in three dimensions, which was labeled “Hrinthum blah blah”; and a second picture in which things were stretched and bent, labeled, “blah Hrinthum.” The pictures reminded me of the difference between the Newtonian universe and Einstein’s universe. Were Putkurs on the verge of realizing the space-time relativity continuum and nuclear physics?

A third magazine was current events reportage. I assumed the pictures were of famous Putkurs. A central article was about the two great empires: Saca and Radimeer. A fold-out illustration showed the military capacity of the two. A stylized soldier holding a weapon in red represented Saca’s force; in black, Radimeer’s. Even though Saca was larger and more densely populated, its forces were three-quarters the size of Radimeer’s. Next were armored vehicles: Radimeer led 5-1; bomber aircraft, Radimeer, 3-1; fighter aircraft, Radimeer 4-3; submarines, Radimeer, 2-1; aircraft carriers, Radimeer, 3-2; battleships, even. I could see why Mawgri considered the Radimeens the greatest threat; their empire was a regional powerhouse militarily and seeking global influence (If not, why all the aircraft carriers, bombers and armored vehicles? Those are offensive weapons.)

The most interesting read was an agricultural newsletter featuring an article on the cultivation of one of Sava’s most valuable products: smur.

Smur was produced by arachnids deep inside the earth in dark underground caverns. The arachnids—blind, poisonous, long-legged spider-like creatures—spun the smur threads from their brown-and-black bodies, coating the silky gossamers with a substance that was both gooey and smelly, having the adhesiveness of glue and giving off the stench of rotting meat: a perfect trap for small, hungry critters.

Over centuries the cave-dwelling spiders (Kot) had been bred to hang their silken threads deep inside dark caverns. They were also bred to produce longer and stronger strings, and their diet had been studied and enrichments added to their feed that was scattered onto the webs.

The threads glowed with a phosphorescence, so they illuminated the black rocky interiors and drew dinner (traditionally, hungry grubs, skittering and flying bugs, small rodents) with the odor of decaying flesh, into the iridescent, sticky, smelly webs. The careful breeding and feeding had produced a domesticated horde of constant weavers and spinners who could spread a three-meter diameter web in a few days.

Harvesting was simple. Agricultural laborers in protective suits, masks and gloves carrying bright lanterns entered the webbed chambers. The glaring light drove the light-sensitive spiders into the cracks and crannies of the walls. Then the workers used delicate rakes to pull the webs down into carts. A single chamber could fill four to six carts.

The raw smur was consolidated and shipped to a factory where the sticky, smelly substance was desiccated and the dried flakes and powder blown off the fibers. The powdery residue was not wasted, but was deodorized and combined with liquids and made into tightly bonding glue. The clean fibers were then dyed or bleached and woven into the famous soft, satiny material that was the hallmark of wealthy Putkurs.

End of Chapter 3
 
The complication builds.  To find the answers for his mission, Malcolm is willing to undertake untraditional, even risky, activities.  Fortunately, he has Mawgri to help smooth the way.
 
Below are items related to this blog.