Late Afternoon Moonrise

Team Vunak Are Given a Night of Liberty in the Flesh Vaults of Antares. What could possibly go wrong? Yaas, and so it shall.

The first of the three moons appeared. Charon declared, “Pass the Blue Gate by the rising of the third moon, She who is called Eve.”

After the Captain’s duel, VU stood in awe of Burton, understanding, he thought, how a Super Bowl coach must feel about his NVP quarterback. Various men were coming down from the stands, one for each member of each team, a blond Nordic heading his way bearing camping gear. VU was trying to keep track of what was going on when Charon’s voice sounded like a clarion, “Spectators are dismissed and may resume seating at dawn.”

The stands began to empty, something that would surely take hours, lines of people filing into the various concrete tunnels, their frame worked like the open maws of various predatory beasts. Charon then pranced over to VU and Burton, towering over them, “Servants have been assigned of your same various races, to each one of you. They are pitching rival camps, which they shall keep, occupy, and defend, and if their masters have lost, be slaughtered within, before each gate.”

Blue tents and stools were being set up before the Blue Gate and Red tents and folding canvas chairs before the Red Gate. Each attendant brought fire wood and water jugs as well. A brass fire pit was placed at the center of each camp.

“Master,” said a man who bowed to him, who looked like he could have been his younger brother, speaking with a Dutch accent, loaded with water skins, blankets, a tent, chair, a bundle of split fire wood, lamp and bandages, “your tent I will pitch on the outer ring to prevent your men being fooled with.”

A tall Alpine with dark hair and mustache, speaking in a proper English accent, approached Burton, who began clearly directing the setting up of his area. Even VU’s two hillbilly assistants had white trash serving men likewise attending them. And so it went with the Blues and Reds, each man seemingly attended by a servant of his own race. Each of these servants had a wooden sword/baton, worn at his hip. VU was wondering at this when Charon, following his gaze, noted, “The dead will be brought back to camp by their slave, VU. After the duels, there will be a final battle, between the surviving team members. Those who prevail, along with their slaves, shall then attack the enemy camp, none of the defeated permitted grace. This is to the knife. The slain of the victors will be granted the honor of nourishing the King, Prince, Dignitaries and Brides of Scorpio, the defeated destined to feed the knights and the grays.”

‘I want to hurl.’

“What of the survivors among the victors?” he inquired.

Charon grinned and hissed like some great snake, this hiss expelling from the organ pipes sprouting outward in an upward sweep from his neck, and his words pointedly spoken from that horse-toothed mouth, “These, VU, will be sent to seed a new world, given slaves, brides and three gray advisors each, so to build what kind of society they see fit.”

The big hillbilly spoke up, “We shall have a good rest then before battle tomorrow, aye, VU, after today’s training of course?”

VU began to answer in the affirmative when Charon, tolled like a bell, “The Reds rest, served and nursed by their attendants. The Blues, in honor of the Mob they represent, MUST, go fourth among the wine gardens, mead halls, beer taverns, ale houses, grog bars, gambling dens and flesh vaults to enjoy the hospitality of the Mob. All vices are on the house, food as well.”

VU paused, “I don’t think that is in our best interest.”

Charon laughed, as if a great iron bell could chuckle, and it was horrible, “VU, the Blues must leave with their attendants before the moon Eve passes the second quarter of heaven. You may not return until the mid point of night, when all three moons are at rest in their caves of night.”

“But?”

Charon bent so that his face was a foot from VU’s, informing the human that his tiny head was to that armored skull as a moon is to its planet, “VU, your protest has been noted and shall be inscribed upon your urn. Your slave shall attend you, and bring you back safely. Your person’s are inviolable this night—none will but honor thee, oh he who is about to die.”

The breath of the thing was not so much bad, as spicy, like a chai tea.

He heard the British hillbilly inquire of his servant, “Say, mate, is there a good grog house, perhaps some Pussers rum?”

“Indeed,” answered the slave, “both have engaged me to fete ye there, and as well the Sands Stout Hall has roasted a calf for ye heroes and stands by the richest black tap of stout pour on Antares!”

“I’m in,” mumbled the gutter gnome.

VU was shaken with a bad feeling about the bloody morrow.

…

To The Reader

I have rendered the first third of the fourth Chapter here, and hand off the yarn to Jeth, who is writing all of the combat chapters based on our skype combat conduct and results sessions for each pairing. Do note, that Charon, who does not feign fair treatment for the Blues, casts lots in his many-chambered mind, and that these lots might be construed as somewhat less than honest random.

This concludes the open posting of Vunak of Antares at jameslafond.com, with the concluding posts to be found at Jeth’s substack site, with the four concluding chapters and epilogue to post behind his paywall.

Thank You for reading, and may Fate smile full-faced upon VU.

-James LaFond, San Jose, California, 12/10/24

To The Coauthor

Jeth, I think you should take this chapter from here, and base the revel on your night out before the Hoch seminar. Do have fun with retrieving Bronson from his calligraphy lesson with Musashi at dawn, when VU wakes and finds him gone. I suggest keeping it under 2,000 words, or 3,000 words total length for this chapter. I will take the story back up in the epilogue.

For Chapters 4, 6-14 of Vunak of Antares go to:

oneinone.substack.com

From Jeth concerning our next combat simulation over skype:

Good to hear from you mate, interesting you think I'm writing a lot - which is a compliment coming from yourself - as I feel that I'm never writing enough and have been slacking a bit with the journal! Hah!

That reminds me, I did a journal article with Vunak/ Mr Gray/ LaFond fiction releases here (Got some nice feedback from a reader in Canada too):

Sunday is great for me, just let me know a time that suits you.

Looking forward to it!

Best, J