PROLOGUE

“You are a savage!” Screamed Ka’Na Portus to the sight of Xi Bharata, the invading warlord from the southern province, as he stood in the council meeting room, the head of Re’Na Tan dangling from his left hand and a vicious looking three foot sword gripped in his right.

“Your sunset has come, Ka’Na Portus!” Xi Bharata shouted back, not in the least intimidated by the man who was one twelfth of the committee that ruled over Vasundhara and all humankind. The warlord threw back his leather clad shoulders, lifted his bearded chin, and hoisted the bloodied sword into the air above his shoulders, “The rule of the council is over! It is time for the people of Vasundhara to again flourish under strong leadership!”

Ka’Na stared at his former colleague. Gone was the impeccably groomed and stubbornly determined science minister who had sat beside him on the council for nearly two decades. In his place stood a bearded brute with predatory green eyes and a long whip of jet black hair that descended to the small of his back. It was clear that it would be pointless to argue with him. They’d had this very debate countless times. Xi had always been passionate and vocal in his view that humanity had grown apathetic, that it squandered its creative birthright and lost, as a consequence, it’s essence of being. He believed that which Ka’Na took exception to, that humans, having unified the ethnicities and mastered the elements more than two centuries ago, had become lazy, complacent, and content to simply exist. It was Xi’s contention that mankind needed fear, it needed to be at risk, it needed to need, in order to be its innovative best. ‘A world without fear breeds complacency’, Xi had preached repeatedly before the council. Then one day, impassioned more than usual, he went too far with his admonishment of society, accusing the council members and the prime minister of facilitating and fostering the stagnation he perceived in humankind. Outraged, Xi Bharata, Vasundhara’s preeminent minister of science, was formally censured. Outraged and livid, Xi stormed out of chambers and wasn’t seen or heard from again for more than a year. It wasn’t until horrific still images of the brutal massacre of tens of thousands of people in the southern provinces became common in the nightly news reports, that an aerial news sled captured live footage of Xi Bharata barking commands from horseback. The voice of Xi was clearly heard ordering his followers to slaughter, rape and pillage the small southern town of Gwat. Within one hour of the broadcast, the council virtually convened to condemn Xi Bharata, making him the first human in nearly one thousand years to be summoned before the council for punishment.

Xi Bharata ignored the global proclamation commanding him to appear before the council. He increased his campaigns, murdering everyone and setting fire to everything in his path. When a messenger was dispatched to hand deliver a written summons, Xi killed the man and sent his head back to the council in a box with a note: “To create, you must first destroy.”

Looking at his former colleague standing only three meters in front of him, it was apparent that he had successfully crafted himself in to the ruthless devil he believed the world needed to thrive.

“You cannot touch me, Xi Bharata.” Ka’Na stated as he looked down to tap his tablet, to signal to palace security that its presence was required. In a matter of seconds an overwhelming number of armored palace security personnel would be rushing into the council chamber with stun batons to subdue Xi. Ka’Na, feeling a tinge of regret for the lives of those already lost trying to prevent Xi’s entry to the Crystal Palace and the council chamber, quickly added, “You know quite well that I am protected by a force barrier, Xi. That crude weapon of yours has absolutely no possibility of reaching me.”

“Shall I flee then, Ka’Na?” Xi spat back with sarcasm, “Do I look the fool, who should rush from this room and into the arms of the Palace guard and their electric batons?” Xi smiled wryly, and then shouted jubilantly, “I am immortal! Those stun batons cannot scare me! I have killed! I have taken lives, many lives! I’ve placed my life in jeopardy, I have been wounded, and I am still here! I am alive in such a way as you, in your numbingly insulated world, could never comprehend. I promise you this,” Xi said with a proud, almost nostalgic, smile spread across his face, “I shall kill, for your edification, anyone who comes within my reach.”

“You have become insane,” Ka’Na replied.

“Perhaps, but I have proven, if only to myself and my followers, what I have said before the council a dozens of times. Mankind must have adversity, a catalyst of one kind or another: fear of death, hunger, or extreme need, in order to strive.” Xi’s face beamed, “You should have seen the ingenious defenses put up by some of the southern cities to protect themselves from my horde. They didn’t have much technology. Yet they erected walls of stone and wood, constructed ramparts and fortified them with bowmen.” He held out his sword, a three foot blade, thick and heavy at its head and narrower near its jeweled wooden hilt, presenting it to the man behind the force barrier. “This fine sword, which I call a falchion after its deceased creator, was mass produced by hand using superheated fire and hammer. It was distributed to every able-body of the village of Lu Pan to prevent me and my horde from destroying them. It has exceptional balance and an edge that stays sharp, even with much hard use. It’s a thing of beauty, a work of art in the truest sense of the word. It was sharpened by hand, not by a laser, but with a stone… a stone! This is creativity! This is ingenuity! Can you not see that this is exactly what we have lost as a people centuries ago?” Xi caught himself, his face softened and eyes plead for understanding from his former colleague and friend, “Imagine what mankind could achieve, the things we could create, what we could accomplish using the technology we have now as a springboard for our imaginations. All we need, all we have ever needed as a species was something, some great purpose, to necessitate our rise to greatness.”

“So, we should use all of our resources and all of our science to develop bigger and better weapons to kill each other?” Ka’Na asked, deliberately baiting Xi to keep him talking. The security detail, a full dozen armed men in the best woven protective gear, was in position outside the tall double doors of the council chamber, working to override the doors’ electronic locking mechanism.

“No. We should use it to be out there, in space, exploring, instead of being content to simply manage what we have. We should have feet on Mangal and be building settlements on the moons of Sani.” Xi asserted, “Mankind has an adventurous spirit. We need to seek out new things, face adversity and risk everything in order to build, invent and create.”

“But we are doing things such as these, Xi. You, yourself oversaw the construction of the transmitter station in the Delchan Valley. And, you helped refine the guidance algorithms for the rockets en route to 422819 more than a decade ago. How much more creative do we need to be to sate your misguided lust for blood?”

“We are not the creative ones! It was our ancestors who were creative!” Xi’s voice echoed again in the vaulted meeting chamber. “Our ancestors had the heart and spirit we lack. We are merely living off their ingenuity, following a routine that they created. They built those fantastic ships, the incredible devices we depend on for everything we do, and the towering cities we live in today. They created the fabrication machines and provided the blueprints for the interplanetary transmitter. Think about it Ka’Na, what have we really done? What have we added to this grand project… nothing! And yet we take pride in doing maintenance? In pushing buttons and waiting? Can you not see the danger this path holds?”

“What I see,” Ka’Na began, noticing that the council chamber door had opened slightly behind his former colleague, “is an incredibly smart megalomaniac who has rationalized the taking of lives and the application of terror in a desperate attempt to validate his argument. You are sick Xi Bharata. In your sickness you have murdered thousands of innocent people. You have dishonored yourself and your family. You have become a butcher, a murderer, a terrorist, and a tyrant. Surely, you will be executed for all you have done.”

As Ka’Na finished his assessment and before Xi could respond, a dozen palace guards in full riot gear, each wielding a fully charged stun baton, burst into the chamber and rushed toward the armed intruder. Surprised, Xi turned with a ferocious grin to face his assailants. As he began to assume a defensive posture, the tip of a stun baton touched the blade of his sword, sending a jolt of electricity racing up his arm, knocking him unconscious. Ka’Na watched as the guards collected Xi’s limp body and dragged him from the council chamber.

Alone again, Ka’Na disabled the force barrier. He crouched to study the horror frozen in the vacant eyes of Re’Na Tan, the elderly security guard who had watched over the entrance to the Crystal Palace for the last fifteen years. Sadness overtook him. He and Xi, both knew this man. Yet, Xi took the old man’s life without cause or reason.

Nothing about Xi’s assault on the Committee Council Chamber made any sense.

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