Abt 10 Zawmb’yee Continues

CHAPTER 10

SECRETS AND DISASTER

ENTRY 118

     As you could have guessed, I’ve procrastinated as much as I could, but I do have an appointment set with the Drofluo. This I did after I finally asked Yenkoi for an explanation of the last session at the mevltikacle, and asked for a clarification of my options for a meeting with the Drofluo. After a few days when I had caught up on my Ofuye studies, I called in Yenkoi for a consultation.
     I had said, “Gavicte Yenkoi, I think I’m ready now for you to update me on everything I’ve postponed.”
     “Yes, of course, Fevepo. You had asked me after the last session at the mevltikacle to explain my decisions on your behalf. I think that you needed a definition of yleueox, and aucocne, in the context of Aipnica Hshwigi’s request?”
     “Yes, Gavicte Yenkoi.”
     “Um, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, as you may know, I find it difficult speaking about vulgar and indelicate matters. If you would please pardon me if I stumble about in my explanation with too many euphemisms or with an obfuscation. Perhaps, after you’ve finished your studies with Apacevj, I’ll be able to explain this and other things more precisely in Upper Utd’mbts. Shall I proceed?”
     “Sure, Gavicte Yenkoi — let it all hang out.”
     “Excuse me, Fevepo? I don’t understand.”
     “Sorry, that’s an up-top expression. Um, I mean, yes, of course, proceed.”
     “Thank you, Fevepo. Aipnica Hshwigi wishes to become pregnant. She wants it to be by a supervised mounting of her by the horse Camille alias James. The process of lowering an erect horse onto her, and allowing for a careful thrusting process that results in an ejaculation within her, is called ‘yleueox’, and ‘aucocne’ simply means ‘sperm donor.’ When I say ‘horse’ I mean liaoc or a person such as James.”
     “Um, well, Gavicte Yenkoi, I think I understand. If I may be indelicate for a moment: Hshwigi wants to have sex with James, and have his baby…”    
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, that would be a succinct way to describe the essential elements without the social-milieu context. Is this sufficient for now?”
     “Yes, thank you, Gavicte Yenkoi. I’m sorry you had to suffer through that explication, but I enjoy a good ramble. Well, OK, whenever I learn Utd’mbts more thoroughly, you’ll tell me more.”
     “Yes, Fevepo.”
     “Which reminds me: I think it best that when I have the meeting with the Drofluo, that I insist that they NOT speak in Upper Utd’mbts, since I don’t know it that well. Will this be acceptable?”
     “Yes, of course, Fevepo. The briefing can contain as much or as little detail as you want to hear. The decision is yours, and as I’ve said before, whatever you do agree to hear must be kept secret.”
     “Yes, Gavicte Yenkoi, I understand,” I had said, but as I’ve hinted at: there is a problem which I won’t dare discuss with Yenkoi.
     Now as the meeting approaches, I’m getting more and more nervous. And I hope I’m correct that none of the elite here in the Palace and in the inner villages read this blog, because I do plan to describe a little bit about the meeting.
     I think it’s treason, but I’m thinking that if I’m the High Priestess, I could pardon myself or… I’m not going to think about it anymore. Yeah, I’m pretty sure they don’t read blogs on the up-top Internet.

ENTRY 119

     I had my meeting with a representative of the Drofluo. If it’s even possible, I feel even more weird than before. Because I said I just wanted a general briefing, they sent just one representative who I suppose was sort of like a public relations spokesperson, although she had the high rank of Kfuaihicoo in the Drofluo. Perhaps it’s like the games in the up-top world where a person of ostensibly high rank like the Secretary of State can be out of the loop and ignored by the President and given only ceremonial duties, or in a different administration given real powers. It depends on a whim, or I suppose in this case I’m the whim and the wind. But since I’m supposed to be the ultimate power, and since if I knew anything, I could use rogue bureaucrats to drill down to the real deep secrets, I needed to make strategic friends. My feeling had been to play coy and see if I could develop an ally for myself deep within a disgruntled core. I know an entrenched elite leadership will always lie.
     Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei had arrived with a large entourage, but she made a strange request: she asked to meet in the kngacev. I would have thought she’d ask to meet in one of the royal conference rooms with the elaborate media displays and security equipment. The kngacev is a simple library with a royal meditation room or bedroom. I’ve been so busy studying that I’ve never actually slept yet in any of the official royal bedrooms. I haven’t even had time to explore all the rooms of the palace. But anyway…
     I had welcomed Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei into the kngacev with as much formal protocol as I could muster with the help of Yenkoi.
     Yimiecei had curly blond hair and blue eyes. She was fiercely beautiful and ferocious in a leather vest over a blue mesh tank top, a green shredded silk skirt, and orange running shoes with rubies over steel toes and with purple ankle bracelets. She left her weapons belt with her entourage who waited outside. She was so powerful looking and sexy that even Yenkoi almost kissed her when he, entranced, almost drifted into her lips, but stirred to composed himself for a formal introduction.
     She had said, “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, may we proceed to the back of the kngacev?”
     I was puzzled, but I said, “Yes, of course, if you wish.” We walked to the back, to the far most corner.
     She said, “If it would please you, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, may I climb the ladder to the top shelf of the book case?”
     I had no clue, but I said, “Yes, of course, proceed.”
     Yimiecei climbed to the top shelf, pulled a purple book part way out, and scrambled down the ladder . At the bottom she extended her arm in a downward arc and bowed. The shelf slid to the side revealing a room with huge screens, computer consoles, and a large conference table. She escorted me in, and we walked to the table as the shelf closed behind us. She pulled out a plush chair for me and said, “For your comfort, Fevepo Zawmb’yee. I am honored to brief you in the manner of your choosing.”
     I sat down. “Yes, thank you, Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei, proceed.”
     Sauntering around to the front of the table with her curly blond hair doing spring dances, she began, “I will start with the state of the Inner Villages. If at any time you want more detail, you may ask for it under the confidentiality agreement that Gavicte Yenkoi informed you of. Is this acceptable Fevepo Zawmb’yee?”
     “Yes, continue,” I had said. It was eerie like when Doug and I entered Zusoiti’s lair except that Yimiecei had a benign presence. She updated me on all the mundane affairs of state and I nearly fell asleep until she almost casually lapsed into extraordinary intrigue… I’ll tell you all about it, but I have to rest now before Yenkoi brings me more papers to sign and I have some grand decisions to make. I am exhausted. I have to rest before I present my treasonous revelations here on this blog. Good night and sweet dreams before I rule the day, or is that rue the day…

ENTRY 120

     So it is true that at every level the apocalypses approached — the bursting of every cherished bubble, large and small, where balloons of false belief and of the deception of comfortable certainty drift. The Drofluo are everywhere that pin pricks will lead to domination.
     Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei had finished her agriculture report for the inner villages when she said, “Our stockpile of food in the dakalzca is nearing full capacity and we’re ready to begin the inducement of the Wicsmi when the gods will return.”
     “Dakalzca? Wicsmi?”
     “Oh, yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, I beg your pardon, I should have defined the jargon. Dakalzca are giant “caves of Stillness” where frozen food is kept like an elegant cuisine reserved in time for our epoch chefs by mammoth refrigerators, and Wicsmi means an Ice Age.”
     “So you’re able to do what Kragzluk, the god of preservation and death, did in ancient times?”
     “Well, yes. We have the pfayohiqusi and our psomuce, um, lava tube network can disperse the heat from the Dakalzca to deep ocean vents and when we’re ready for the Wicsmi, can be sent to active volcanoes.”
     “How much food is that?”
     “It’s enough for the half of the population of Earth that will obey us and …”
     I was stunned at how calmly she spoke while playing with her blond curls. I said, “Wait, this sounds like Zusoiti’s plan, and didn’t Utcoozhoo lead the Grand Council to stop her and…”
     “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, Zusoiti’s ideas were basically correct. It’s just that in implementation she failed to consult with the Drofluo, and became reckless in relying on the teigdain.
     “Teigdain?
     “It’s a hybrid science: it assumes that certain things will forever be unknowable to science, only comprehended by the gods, and should not even be explored by experiment or study. It combines the science from our many Renaissances with the magic, or casmivi of the pfayohiqusi. But relying on the pfayohiqusi has actually held us back. Our scientists have moved in fits and starts to and beyond quantum physics. But the executions for sypmauiyig, blasphemy, have always been somewhat inhibiting.”
     “Hmm, somewhat inhibiting?”
     Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei suddenly had a look of terror on her face as she seemed to realize that I could read between the lines. I said, “Then, what you are saying is that the Drofluo have deliberately committed sypmauiyig in order to reverse-engineer the pfayohiqusi to learn the science of it?”
     Yimiecei grimaced and shuttered for a moment before regaining composure and standing up straight. “Yes,” she said.
     “Then the law would have you executed?”
     “Yes.”
     I waited a moment to try to discern by her reaction if I still had absolute power. She started to shake. I said, “but I don’t have to, I suppose.”
     “Yes.”
     I laughed. “I like the sciences.”

ENTRY 121

     Hmm. So Yimiecei told me that the plan was basically the same except that we were not expecting the return of the gods but the return of the beings who were perceived as gods. She had said, “We are perfecting our knowledge of the science of the gods; we are beginning to understand the apparatus of the gods, the pfayohiqusi, infinitely better than ever before. With this knowledge, our benign rule of the Earth can begin, and we will purge all evil and any imperfection that would continue the troublesome inefficiencies.”
     I had said, “Yes, it’s a messy, wasteful world.”
     “Um, Fevepo, your Majesty and divine chosen leader of the realm, High Priestess, keeper of the faith, if I may discuss a delicate matter that may be personal to you?”
     I was stunned and not sure what to say. I was thinking that theoretically I could have said that no, you may not, but then how would I know what was going on, and I would be worried and anxious continuously if I said something like tell me next week because I’m busy. So I said, “Yes, you may proceed.”
     “We have discovered that it was Doug who revealed the existence of the caves to Ziohat. The damihaiz extracted the information from Ziohat. We believe Doug has been revealing too much information to the up-top world, and because of his eokxavexa, his genes obviously are of no value to us. Therefore, he should be executed.”
     My impulse was to strangle her to death, but I felt sick, vomiting in a waste paper basket. Then, I cried, knocking over a chair and falling to the floor. I had to scream and the Kutibea appeared.
     “Are you alright?” one of the Kutibea asked.
     “Yes,” I said, “Call Apacevj and Yenkoi for a formal meeting. Go now.”
     “Fevepo, may we help you up?”
     “No, jevkwyi, go!” The Kutibea crowd departed. Yimiecei lifted me up and I struck her across the face with a backstroke of my fist.
     Yimiecei wiped the blood off her face. She said, “Perhaps we should discuss this in more detail in Upper Utd’mbts, if it pleases you Fevepo.
     I sat down at the table and sobbed into my hands. I whispered, “Yes, after I consult with Apacevj.”
     The book shelf door slid open and I ran out. Yimiecei followed behind and I stood in front of the books. I turned and screamed, “Get out, get out, get out, get out.”
     Her entourage came. They gave her, carefully, her weapons belt back and they all left quietly.

ENTRY 122

     This could be my last entry as myself, Zawmb’yee Nuje, interim High Priestess, Fevepo — Her Majesty, lover of Doug, student of Utcoozhoo, because I find myself doing dreadful things and I must lock myself out of control of this blog. I’ve alluded to this before, but I think now I will have to trigger the emergency protocol.
     I am so foolish. Just when I needed friends in high places, or under places, needed some allies, I went berserk and showed my volatility and untrustworthiness. I could have been real cool and just listened to say tell me more and I’ll take it under advisement. But now I’ve gained nothing. The fact that Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei was stoic and took my abuse to show loyalty doesn’t actually mean she is loyal, and doesn’t mean she’s going to give me the true inside information. I’m such a novice. Yimiecei taking a punch is nothing — she could still stab me in the back at the right time.
     What am I saying. This is all irrelevant. Already I am pushing to forget the evil I’ve done. But should I not flush the tokens of my good deeds away and be left with the labels of my malefactions for display in hell. What have I done. I’m an idiot to have let myself drift. I could have resisted but look what has happened:
     I had called an emergency meeting with Apacevj. Apacevj rushed into the kngacev as if he already knew something. We sat on opposing couches in the reference section.
     Apacevj said, “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, how may I help you?”
     “Mieta Apacevj, I had what was to be an informal meeting with Kfuaihicoo Yimiecei conducted in English, but she brought up vital subjects that I think I need to hear in Upper Utd’mbts.”
     “Uayi?”
     “Yes,” I said and deeply meditated to feel and be with his message. After a few minutes, feeling his Upper Utd’mbts communication, he abruptly stopped making contact.
     “Stop,” he said, “Speak in English only please.”
     “What’s wrong? Am I not expressing myself correctly?”
     “No, it’s not that your Upper Utd’mbts isn’t well done. It’s, um, uh …”
     “What? Is it clumsy or something?”
     “No, it’s magnificent and nuanced but…”
     “But what?”
     “I feel the presence of a different personality. This is the voice of someone else.”
     And then at that moment I felt incredibly weird and I heard myself say, “So little Apacevj, you have heard me. I will take my rightful place as High Priestess even in this body.”
     I heard Apacevj screaming, “Zawmb’yee Nuje! Zawmb’yee, Zawmb’yee, Zawmb’yee. Are you there?”
     “No,” I heard myself say, “I am Zusoiti.”
     “What?”
     “Kutibea!” I heard myself say, and they ran in.
     “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, how may we help?” I heard from the Kutibea.
     I heard myself say, “Pirgrikwa! Apacevj has attacked me and will imminently seize control of my mind. Execute him immediately.”
     The Kutibea drew their acacizg and fired. There was a flash of light and Apacevj vanished. All that was left was a pile of ash.
     I stared at the ash and was confused. “What happened?”
     “You were attacked and we destroyed him. Are you alright?”
     “Um, well, yes, I’m fine. Thank you and could you send in Gavicte Yenkoi,” I said.
     I’m an idiot. I was so confused that I just somehow assumed that Apacevj had attacked me while speaking Upper Utd’mbts and all the strange events had been due to him. I preferred to think that I was perfectly fine after he was dead. But nothing had been his doing.
     Oh, I see, I can probably stay lucid a while longer. I could do one more entry as my final confession. I am so sad, so sorry.

ENTRY 123
     Oh Kievifkwa, I don’t know if I’m unraveling in madness, or doing what is necessary. Our secrets must be protected at all costs, and there is a higher calling of patriotism for our culture, for our people. No, no, no. This can not be — I feel it. To betray my only love is infinitely more evil than to betray the State. Those grand plans of State are Machiavellian and I have fallen, have let them offer slow poisons to me like a Juliet, but worse, I have betrayed Doug, and it might be too late. You would have thought I would have delayed speaking to Gavicte Yenkoi, but I had ordered the Kutibea to ask him to come in to hear my treachery.
     Silly me, a child in borrowed robes, I had said to send in Gavicte Yenkoi. Foolish me. Treacherous me.
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, you wished to see me?” Yenkoi had said.
     “Gavicte Yenkoi, please prepare for me to sign, a death warrant for um…”
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee?”
     So many sobs escaped from me and I sat down at a table near the reference section in the kngacev. So many tears dripped on my notes that the ink blurred on the paper buckled with evil dimples. Yenkoi stood in front of the books that were laid out like tombstones. But he merely lifted an eyebrow.
     Yenkoi began again, “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, your Majesty, High Priestess, how may I serve you?”
     “Gavicte Yenkoi, please prepare for me to sign, a death warrant for Doug…” and a full-throated cry broke out that echoed across the walls that mocked me.
     “Is it…”
     “You know who,” I screamed.
     “Fevepo Zawmb’yee, if I may, I will look up his full formal name and prepare the formal documents with orders to the security forces as needed for you to approve. Is this acceptable?”
     I got up from the table and turned my back on Yenkoi. I pulled books from the shelves and flung them across the room. I said, “Is this civilization? Does knowledge become weapon become death, become ignorance from compassion, rip out hearts, beat us down without a rhythm of love for filthy secrets, dirt. I am a filthy wretch…” I picked up a heavy book and tore out a page. “For this secret a life? For this I am powerful? This Fevepo, this Queen, who plays in mud, embraces this dirt, this warrant…” And I dripped on the table again.
     “My condolences, Fevepo Zawmb’yee. If I may inquire, respectfully, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, do you wish to proceed?”
     “Yes, Gavicte Yenkoi.”
     “May I …”
     “Just go. Go now. Go quickly. Jevkwyi!
     “Yes, Fevepo Zawmb’yee, as you wish, as you order.” He turned officiously and left.
     Thus the world will be rendered cold. It is in this Ice Age that with my unearthly weapons, I will rule. For those loyal, I will provide food, provide warmth. And yet, though ruler of hell, I am so cold, so bereft and lonely among both the nobles and the hordes, above and beneath them.
     So let it be that I’d be seized by…~ post terminated ~
[post terminated]
[access denied]



[bye]
END OF BOOK 1

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