Adagio 5 – Psion Society
Now, I told you before that I wasn’t a Psion myself. I, Professor Googol Marou, expert on practically everything, must rely on testimony and speculation to tell you about the Psions themselves. Strange people they are, with unnatural powers. Oooh! Spooky! It’s little wonder the Galtorr Imperium was so deathly afraid of them. Still, I suspect that Grand Admiral Brona Tang of the Imperium was himself a Psion, him and all of his clones. So, I believe that the Imperium only feared Psions they couldn’t control. It turns out that Ged and Ham were not the only ones to seek escape from persecution of Psions by leaping outside of known space. It seems it had been going on for so long that an entire Psion Empire had blossomed in the stars just beyond the Imperial Border.
Of the nine billion people living on the planet Don’t Go Here, only a handful were Psions. The few I came to know well seemed to originate from the cavern-world beneath the surface of the planet that bore more than two thirds of the dense population of the planet.
Most of the Psions in our galaxy lived on the worlds of Zanatas and Zarane in the Phoebus IV Star System. It was a good 40 light years beyond Don’t Go Here in the Unknown Regions. It took at least 10 Jumps in space to get there with a good starship, and the Don’t Go Hereians had no ships at all. The Psion Colony Worlds were Tfriash, Kvarii VI, and Rhaskoo. All three worlds were many light years further away. You may have noticed that they are also hard to say. They seemed to have a thing for names with too few vowels in them. Kinda like Poles and Czechs, I suppose.
So the fact that Don’t Go Here had a Psion Master living on it was nothing short of a miracle. The thing is, though, that Tkriashav was himself capable of telepathy, teleportation, and clairvoyance. He had been anticipating Ged Aero’s arrival on Don’t Go Here since well before he found himself marooned upon the planet.
I like Tkriashav. I count him as a friend of mine. But I find him creepy in many ways. It is very unsettling to be around someone who can, in a sudden flash of insight, at any moment reveal to you the manner and place of your death. Oooh! Spooky again! Some things I really wish I didn’t know.
Tkriashav had been the mentor and teacher of several Psions as he lived on the planet Don’t Go Here. He had brought his sister’s family along on the space voyage that had resulted in his being marooned on the planet. Young Friashquazatl, Freddie they called him, was a shape-changer like Ged. He was Tkriashav’s nephew and Tkriashav had raised him since he was an infant, teaching him to control his power.
Tara Salongi, the beautiful girl who saved Ged’s life the first time he completely transformed into another species, was a gifted telepath. Tkriashav had taught her how to use her mind power to heal and to help. She was probably the one student he was proudest of. Bam-Bam Salongi’s only daughter was destined to be one of the most important Psions in the history of known space. That should raise some tremendous expectations in your humble imaginations.
The Psions themselves were only about two percent of the population of their own empire, but their planets were fertile and heavily populated. A large number of people with mind powers were available there to accomplish things that ordinary people could only dream of doing. Therefore, one has to conclude that Ged Aero was not only the right man on the right planet at the right time, but gifted with the right powers and teaching skills as well. Teaching skills, you say? Yes, he was a scout, a hunter, a spacer, and a psion before he met Tkriashav. But after meeting him, he became the most important teacher in all of known space.
Messing Up With Mickey
The way I handle the computer tends to be the way I handle life as a whole. Thirteen tabs open at the same time, eleven of them not responding, and me cussing the machine for not working properly.
Spring has come. In fact, Spring Break has come. My daughter the Princess and I were planning to plant flowers in the yard where the pool used to be. We started work yesterday spreading compost on the flower bed and churning the soil. But we should’ve done it sooner. It was too much for tired muscles to finish yesterday. Then the rains came last night. It would’ve been perfect to plant the seeds yesterday, then have God water them naturally at night. But plans don’t go anywhere near perfectly. Thirteen tabs are open and twelve are not responding.
In my novel, The Baby Werewolf, the murderer is now unmasked and he has started on his final killing spree. But as I was supposed to write the next Canto the last two nights, I found myself overwhelmed and overtired. I got no further writing done. I vowed to do it tonight, but the time change has left me no less tired and overwhelmed. Thirteen tabs not responding.
So here I sit, paralyzed by entropy and worriedly contemplating the eventual heat death of the universe. What to do? What to do?
Mickey’s inevitable answer… Mickey opens a new tab and keeps on writing. Did you think he had an actual plan for the rest of his life? Of course not. He planned on retiring from teaching and writing for about three years, and then dropping dead from one of his six incurable diseases. Guess what? This June will be four complete years. Who knows how many more?
2 Comments
Filed under artwork, autobiography, commentary, daughters, feeling sorry for myself, goofy thoughts, humor, Paffooney