Daily Problem

     "That new Kril from the second Bot come to see you about going back with the casualty Toob again?"  KrutChan asked.

     Shrugging, CheChun spit out the words. “Ah call him Buford.  Forgot his Oval name; that fellow’s still a mite overwhelmed.  He is a malingering fuck and colored yellow.  He’s never been under fire."

     KrutChan nodded.  “He’s yellow ‘cause he’s a North Korean, Ace.”

     “Yeah, that’s what ah said; he’s a gook and you can call me Mac…if ya wanna git along wid me.”

     “Remember what our fearless leader said about getting along with our former enemies?  He’s a Kril not a gook; he’s on our side remember?  Nobody ever got scared in your outfit…Mac?  You can call me KrutChan.  This ain’t the time for a fist-city waltz or pecker-size check between us, okay?”

     “Okay, chaplain…he’s a fucking yellow…Kril…and I ain’t St. Mary, the mother of Jesus.  You’re gonna have problems wid him is all ah’m saying.”

     “Like they say about opinions and assholes…”

     “Let’s knock it off…ah’ll cease fire and we’ll get through this.  We’re fine for now…KrutChan.”

     “He told me he has pains in his chest.”

     “Yeah, and I got a sore elbow.  There's about two hundred Kril here – some are Marines, in this rock-heap-desert wanting to go to the rear.  They're all better than that piece a shit.  Since we left Arna he's been complaining about his goddam chest pains.  If we get lucky he’ll die of a heart attack. That chicken shit is useless right now.  I can send him to you if you want to talk to him.  My old lieutenant wudda talked to him back at the front; only way to keep the Doctor off his officer ass.”

     “Well, I ain’t a fuggin’ officer; I don’t give a shit.  I don’t wanta see him…not hardly   Don't need him right now or his whining.”

     “Listen fellow, don’t pass his problem off on me.  Don’t need that monkey on my back.  Why don’tcha hold his hand?”

     “His pains will pass once we make contact and engage.  North Korean troops are tough.  Anything else you need?”

     “No…just waiting for the word to go from you.  What the hell do you call this if we ain’t in contact and engaging?”  CheChun waved his arms sweeping in the battlefield.  His eyes were wary and judging KrutChan.

     “Are we drawing fire right now?  He’ll straighten out once we are in a fight.  As for me giving the word; it’s not up to me.  That Civil War cavalry man is commanding now.  That guy that lost his horse; the dismounted officer genius.”  KrutChan observed.

      “Toughski shitski his officer ass as the chaplain says.”  He got a wistful look on his face.  “Ah’m not inna hurry.  Dis is a nice place to stay for a while.  Wish ah hadda cup of hot Joe.”

      KrutChan nodded in thought.  “Never liked coffee but if I find any I'll be sure to let you know.  I’m a Pablo Escobar man myself…you know whiskey.”

     “Ah don’t want no moonshine.  I gotta keep muh brains outta my ass.”  He was silent for a moment, and then added as an afterthought indicating the nervousness they all felt.  “Most of our Kril are asking me when do we get relieved from this crap?  They want some fresh Kril-Arnamal guys’ to move through us so we can get relieved and regroup to find out iffn we got more than a handful of guys.”

     “I don’t remember you guys in the Pacific back then asking to be pulled off those beaches you took.”

     “That’s propaganda horseshit.  Most-a-our guys wanted to bug out.  We stayed ‘cause we was ordered ta stay.”

     KrutChan shook his head and smiled.  “But you guys didn’t bail out.”

     Changing the subject, CheChun said.  “Doesn't look like there's nobody on top of that hill.”  He snorted.  “’Course, you don’t ever see ‘um; you jes know they’re dere.”

     “Do I look like an EkSeet?  Ask him, he's the soothsayer or vestal virgin, or whatever.”

     “My mastermind sez we be ’inna a swamp wid gaters snapping at our ass.  EkSeet only spits in my ear when he wants to cram another horseshit rule up my ass.  Hope those bastards don't have artillery concentrations set in up dere.”

The Mob

He remembered Vietnam’s ROE.  “If the people fire on you or run away from you, they are VC.  If they are captured or wounded; they are VC-suspects.  He remembered at the time those were great rules for armed men; lousy rules for unarmed innocents who may just be present, doing nothing overt.  At the time a black marine observed it was like being in LA when a cop stopped any black man as a suspect.  Same rules, different country.

     Within a minute of that Viking slaughter, a Roman Kril drove his pilum into another aggressor-victim and with lethal skill was using a short sword on another Arnamal trying to save the victim.  That did it; KrutChan had had enough and decided to get her the hell out of this mob.

     KrutChan got in front of Reela and pulled her roughly along by her robe as he used his rifled bayonet to make a path to get her out of harm’s way; he expected an attack at any moment.  Back in Vietnam he had been one hundred thirty-five pounds soaking wet in a monsoon.  Here he had a bulk weight over two hundred thirty and he felt a lot more comfortable pushing his weight around.  It seemed to be forever that they were surrounded; but slowly they were respectfully given their space.  The men and women in the crowd closest to Reela were turning their backs, pushing and grunting to get back away from her.  Shouts of, “Let me by...It’s that four-strike Kril!” was being shouted over and over but having little effect in the noisy tumultuous din around them.

AngryJuice

      In her mind, Reela’s female EkSeet was diagnosing KrutChan’s psychosis.  This male is in this state because of an overdose of the ARNA drug; rare, but incidents do occur in the Kril.  The Ovals procedure with Seeched Kril is to internally bathe them with ARNA.  They experience less anxiety when they confront this universe.  As you are aware, the blue-colored time-distorting drug is harvested and used on the Seeched Krils to control-manage the Earth species by expanding-lengthening the timeline experience of the Seeched individual Kril.  The Hallucinogenic, in proper dosages, usually produces euphoria.  In rare cases it can display various degrees of paranoid-schizophrenic reactions.  That is the reason for KrutChan’s suspicion and hate for the Ovals.  An attending Arnamal inadvertently gave him too much ARNA.  His body will soon begin flushing the drug and adjusting his mind, once he leaves for the first Uayeb.   

Terrain on Planet

Walking into a clearing in the jungle filled with intertwined trees with large ten foot bottoms gorged with water the Kril were somber.  They were sweating, out of breath, and cranking their shoulders to relieve tension on their backs from their packs.  Resembling hunchbacks, the Kril moved with the gait of tortoises.  They could see a mountain, their objective, in the distance.  Resembling a large loaf of bread some bear or gorilla had ripped off the end creating a massive indentation alien to anything the Kril Beings had ever seen.  The indentation was not a landslide, it was too large, was not the aftermath from a tsunami collision, and was not a meteor or meteorite crater because it was rectangular in shape; not circular.  The upper walls of the crater were seeping something blue-black in color bleeding like a head wound; flowing down into a lake covering half of the bottom wall.   

Real Me and a friend-Vietnam

ME

Krut Stel

My mentor, EkSeet has forced me to keep this stel in my own words as they occur to me.  It is an Oval Law enforced by the Kril Brotherhood. It is to supplement the official stel, which is edited and kept from prying eyes.  Except, naturally, for the StelaVal Courts governing Kril behavior.  Naturally is his word.  He advised me it must be the truth and must be in my own words and only my own beliefs and thoughts.  He advises me the penalty for not being truthful is death.  How's that for a choice?  He ain't shitting, either.  I saw too many examples to disbelieve him.  It will, of course, be checked against the official records?

How did I get here?  He says that answer will eventually come to me.  He will help me to understand.  My first memories are of the soggy night air at Tikumyax.  My mind scrambled from the Seech field, body tunneling or sucked into a parallel dimension.  No, that's not right, he said universe.  Can you believe there's a difference?  EkSeet says there is.  Who am I to argue?  I remember only the blast furnace heat behind me and being thrown forward into a black oblivion, ears ringing, lungs collapsed by the explosion, suffocating, mind numbed into an acceptance of death.  Passing on.  Sleeping with the angels. The end.  Only it wasn't.  Because I remember that night of service.  Of the reality of life or death.  Of chance.  Randomness.  Luck.  I'm so happy to be not dead and here.  Oh, cry for joy and merry Christmas, ace.  And many happy returns.  Ah, shit.

I'm profane, EkSeet, my man.  Therefore, it’s hard to dictate and keep from cussing.  My man, EkSeet, like the Negroes say, is righteous.  An American out of World War I with the manners of a scientist, which he is, and hi-born, which he ain't, but educated, which he is.  EkSeet, as he says, abhors vulgarity.  Since he wants the truth, fuck him.  I write to read it without feeling stupid.  EkSeet says as I grow younger I'll appreciate these thoughts much more.  Sure, ace.  Right on, man.

The Ovals are the instigators of the process.  The older, or should I say younger, Kril Chiefs of Staff, are the perpetrators of the pain and death selection; it is their training plan, not the Ovals.  They are the ones orchestrating the misery of kril recruits turned into Seeched Meat.  It is their methods and criteria that we are subjected to.  It pisses me off.  Not overtly, of course.  Suicide is not my career choice.  Yet it also makes me stronger and us protecting each other.

Jaguar and Xmucane

   “I would be leery if she did not object to me. It is well known my distaste for TOTL and Dinarchy ways especially in the Oval Confederacy. A Confederacy which includes the Cunacks, Dagot, and the Zar. None of them have a problem with my Oval feelings.”

   “Yes, they are loyal as are the majority of Ovals, our Arnamals and Germs.”

   “Keep our Arnamals and Germs where they belong; they are more Kril in nature.”

   “Yes, my OvalChanHalach, but as you are aware, not all the Ovals have shed their feelings for the Willow Way; Dirva speaks for them many times. She treats her Kril in her nest much like Dinarchy Willows.”

   “That is her right; but changing our society I will never allow. The Ovals have come too far and they will resist her should she become my successor.”

   “Perhaps you should nullify her…exile her?”

   “No, that would only encourage her minions. I am not a Dinarchy believer in the Willow Creed of governing. I only believe in the Cosmic Egg and struggle only with the possibilities of Time.”

   “I serve here to make you aware of those possibilities; my role is such, my OvalChanHalach.”

   “My time is limited; Uayebs are a drain on me. That is precisely why I wanted to speak with you alone. I honor your loyalty but you are aware I keep my own counsel. Many former OvalChanHalachs succumbed to other plots against them. But, you are my trusted sister, much honored by myself, Jaguar. My other Oval sisters, who are in the line of succession, do not have that loyalty to me. That is how it should be; everyone out of power always wants to be in power, thinking they can govern better. That is a part of my position and I accept it as one of my burdens of power. I cannot always do as I wish in these matters.”

   “There is another thing I wish to speak to you about; along those lines of plotting against you.”

   “We must hurry.” Xmucane was a stressed Queen. “I have to talk to one of the other former OvalChanHalachs about something before we go to the arena. What plot have you uncovered?”

   Xmucane and Jaguar spoke only for an Obet and then Jaguar melded out of the room as the former OvalChanHalach Dirva melded in.

Zars

What good are the Zars, they don’t listen to my commands...you cannot command them…I want them to dig in…you are using human logic, Zar logic is different…they are dumb…no you are a dumb human…they have numerous meteorites crashing on their planet almost daily…they dig to escape…aren’t bombs the same…no, and they still mine the new meteorites for metals…why is he digging now…I do not know but let them do what they want to do…okay my guys will follow them wherever they go…that’s logical for a human…except what if they dig the wrong way…they do not worry about geographical references.

Golden Guy

...I saw the guy.  He was pretty beat up and had an inverse long haired Mohawk haircut; a brown forest with a meandering firebreak.  When approached by another being his hair shrunk to almost bald; a fighting mode?  Was he an imaginary creature conjured up by the Ovals or a poltergeist?  He was of medium build with many visible scars from fights and dressed in a combat uniform from the future.  He had six fingers and a palomino look to him.  He moved catlike and with the purpose of a Ninja.  Everyone saw him; everyone avoided him.  Was he Dinarchy or from that breed of species or a veteran from earth's future or what was he?

Beginning

     This implanted Stel records my time-line experiences.   My loving Oval gave me my Kril name.

     My brother Kril, from all the warrior races on earth were Seeched from our respective Timelines.  The Oval ruling class said I had been Seeched to service her after that Maluayeb Arena ceremony of personal life and death choices.  I arrived, a squashed mass of matter, through that Seech Field in a painful emotional confusing limbo, a personal hell of fear, conflicts, indecision, training, and ego.  We all inherited an EkSeet-Id that whispered in our ear in a different accent than our own.  The EkSeet voice was not us; which was irritating to all the Kril who missed their inner voice of existence, that ‘real me’ that no other person heard.

     What is reality?  And whose reality is in one second of a Time-line?  Are the past and the future only unreal existence?  Is the present the only reality?  There are as many realities as there are people existing in a timeline.  The realities of people change as soon as choices are made and are observed from one second to the next.  Which leads to the question; do we really die?  I know I died; the Ovals told all of the Kril that we died.  I prefer to believe I experienced more of a time-line shift of personal reality.  My final second of life on earth was excruciatingly painful in the extreme.  As I found out, dying is only the beginning of more pain, more choices, more searching for love.  All life is full of beginning violence and the search for love on the way to death, in any universe.  All of we Kril began our new reality when we were sucked in and then spit out from that Seech Field.