Antierra Manifesto – blog post #90

In which Antierra plays the game of “plans within plans” and trains Tiki for her first arena fight.
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Now the truly difficult part: to detach from these momentous events so as not to get devastated if disaster strikes ‘tomorrow’ – if someone recants and sells out Tieka or if the lovers do something truly stupid.  Win, lose or draw, I must carry on.  Other equally weighty matters demand to be attended to.
End blog post #89
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Begin blog post #90

The storm has blown over.  The air is cooling and we return to our normal positions in our straw beds.  Tiki is already lying down sleeping as if she had not a care in the world.  And why should she carry any cares?  This is her world, her way of life, what she is bred for.  She has no other expectations but to be the best fighter to enter the arena.  I envy her… often.

The morning comes, fresh and clear.  We take our places at the wash troughs.  The water is cold now but it feels good washing off the sweat of the night.  We sit at the tables, following the established rule of rotation so no one gets used to a special place to get special treatment from kitchen staff.  I do not see Tiki at the tables but I know she is no longer kitchen hand.  I cannot identify Tieka in the daytime but I suspect she must be in the kitchens or one of the young ones passing out the bowls.  I’ll find out what she looks like today sometime.  It is imperative I know her better and also meet the ‘man’ in question.  The plans I’m formulating for them need very careful attention in the near future.

There’s the matter of the corrupt judge to attend to.  I send a message via a young trainee who has taken a liking to me, to the Cydroid in the kitchen.  Soon the trainee passes by again and whispers, while laying her head on my shoulder, ‘Goronda says she give friend information about red man.’  I thank her gently for the message… and for trusting me.  I know she is ecstatic from the recognition.  Old fighters carry much power among the young ones.  We are their only hope for possibility of a long life.  They emulate as well as take energy from us.

That set in motion, I locate Tiki and arrange to continue her training, today with the long sword.  We use old swords with rough and dulled edges but even so one can get badly cut or bruised by them.  It requires as much skill to avoid contact in training as in the arena.  We generally pull no punches here.  In fact the opposite is often true: that fighters see each other even more competitively than they see their arena challengers.  It is only the women’s equal skills that prevent more killings in training than in actual combat.  Also, trainers and handlers like to see us draw each other’s blood and sense the hate that can flow sometimes between sparring partners.  You play games here, it’s for keeps.

Tiki has no training on the long sword as yet.  So I begin from scratch.  I make her hold it steady, straight up to get the feel of its weight.  Straight out in front, holding it firmly with both hands to feel it’s gravitational pull.  To the side and above her head to feel how it can pull one off-balance, then ninety degrees straight down, point in a pavers crack to illustrate how easy it is to loose control of it for a short bodied person.  If you try to swing and did not notice the end is embedded in the sand or floor of the arena, you lose that move and your life.

I can see her frustration and try to ease the tension.  No pidgin from me now.  “It’s not hard Tiki.  Like the staff, make it a part of you.  An extension of your arms.  Know its length, weight and limits.  Remember your opponent has the same weapon so except for body length and strength he has no other advantage.”

“But those mean everything!  He reach me before I reach him.  How I do this with clumsy sword?”

“Not clumsy, just unfamiliar.  You are very smart and you are a bred fighter.  Think sword.  Your whole body is the sword.  Tiki is the sword.  Move with it, not against it.  Make love.  Don’t control, let it flow from your heart, your point of greatest desire.  Swing with your body, not just your arm.  Not just your sword.  OK, this way, look.”

I demonstrate the imaginary pivot point while the sword tip moves one way, I the other while holding it two-handed at arms’ length.  I can see the light come on in her face.  She smiles and repeats my move.  Brilliantly, better than mine.  Now we carry on and she improves by the minute until she is a blur of slashing, parrying, stabbing steel and white flesh never in the same place for a second.  Truly a work of art.  I have to admire her style.  I find her another partner to spar with and call a trainer’s attention.  He saunters over, gloating over the nude female bodies as he walks along, choosing which ones he’s going to enjoy later.

“What you want, gora?” 

“Please, I want you observe this one.”  I point to Tiki in full fighting mode with her long sword.  “I think this one very good.  Worth much.  Good bet on fight, even first.  Not lose fight for long, long time.  Natural fighter.  Good gamble for you put money on.”

He looks at me slyly.  With some of them I can make positive connections and be recognized as almost human.  They rely on my expertise here since I’ve been fighting and training longer than anyone has, including staffers. 

“This one you want protect huh?  Lover.”

“Please sir, not lover.  Just very good fighter, need for you to know.  That one in my cage, yes, but not lover.”

“You think it ready for fight?  Then we book fight for it.  Not problem.  We have young fool male in trouble for raping concubine of ‘chnoll’ (aristocrat of the generally hated social strata) and must pay fine cannot pay.  Must fight in arena.  We put him with this one.”  Points at Tiki.  “We book fight in one week.  Challenger choose weapons three days from fight.  Yes?”

“Please, yes, that is very good.  Thank you.”  I bow and remain without moving while he returns to the shade of an overhang where they installed a table for cards, dice and drinking.

I know that the match will be ‘fair’ in favour of the fighter in this case because they like me (but can never admit it of course) and because it’s Tiki’s first entry.  They sometimes try to match new fighters with unskilled challengers.  It will be good for Tiki to win her first match fairly easily and probably not get hurt in the bargain.  A good deal, as well as I can manage with my limited bargaining influence. 

Tiki has tired out her partner and is leaning on the sword, panting and covered in streaks of muddy, dusty sweat.  She tosses her head proudly as I approach and salutes me with the sword, her eyes gleaming.  The partner says to me in our throaty, low voice:

“That one very dangerous.  Is killer.  Please, I no fight it more.”

“You may find another partner, and thank you for testing her for me.”

Always when I say thank you to these women they remain surprised, even shocked.  It is the word you use to men, not to women.  For someone to thank them means recognition of their humanity, equality, worth.  That simple word goes a long way anywhere it is used but never more so than here.

“Ready Tiki?”

“Yes.  I drink, I feel strong.  Ready.  More sword?”

End blog post #90

17 thoughts on “Antierra Manifesto – blog post #90

  1. George F.

    Very appropriate that Tiki’s first fight will be against a rapist. No doubt, her sword will teach his sword never to go where it’s not welcome. Great episode!

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    1. jim-

      That post is quite interesting George. If you read genesis through a lens to remember something that happened long, long ago, much of what is in the Bible hints of a genetic anomaly in the past.
      Like this “but Noah was perfect in his generations”. Interesting phrasing that most translations use. Remember, the whole earth had been become corrupt. Not in a sense of wickedness, but altered, changed from its natural purpose. There’s much more to it as you know, but many of the stories can be read in this light.

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      1. jim-

        “For every school in the world, you have ten churches. Churches turn you into insects. Churches turn you into mindless slaves. You not only allow it, you enjoy it.”—George F
        Well done George

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      2. Sha'Tara Post author

        The old testament of the bible, for the most part, was written by those whom the gods (the Anunnaki) had put in charge of keeping records (c.f., Zecharia Sitchin – the 12th planet and the Earth Chronicles) and should be read from that perspective. Man, i.e., homo sapiens, was a cloned species by the Anunnaki and as time passed the species devolved rapidly, both mentally and physically. In its beginning (it’s ‘divine’ purity days) it lived for approx. a thousand years which was what they had been designed for. But they devolved rapidly and the “gods” decided to stop trying to maintain their longevity. It was too costly. Instead they re-tooled the female to give birth to make up for the loss of slave workers and the die was cast.

        Quote: Ge. 6:3 Then the LORD said, “My Spirit will not contend with [Or my spirit will not remain in] man for ever, for he is mortal; [Or corrupt] his days will be a hundred and twenty years.”

        Such a drastic shortening of years meant a corresponding shortening of learning time. Mankind “fell” into pointlessness as its numbers proliferated to make up for the loss in years. We are still struggling with this free birther idea today. You also see here that the translation of “mortal” can also be “corrupt.” How many times does the bible claim that man has become corrupt? The writers, mostly the prophets, were still using the measure of the gods to judge proper physical attributes and proper conduct. We know that in our recent past the leaders were usually men (rarely women) of higher stature than the rest. In the beginning these leaders were indeed quasi-giants because they were descendants of a cross between the Anunnakis and earth women. The A’s were much taller than their slave clones – in most cases twice as tall. So the ancient leaders, the Nephilim, were very tall, very imposing creatures. C.f., the story of Goliath.

        Quote: “Ge. 6:4 The Nephilim were on the earth in those days — and also afterwards — when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown.”

        However well hidden, however officially denied, however mocked by the rank and file, that is our legacy as Earthians. We were never natural creatures and we never could understand nature nor adapt to its ways. There were exceptions, throw backs, recidivists, for part of the DNA used by the A’s came from “Neanderthals” or such earth humanoid creatures. These returned to nature and would have returned earth to its pre-intervention state if the Anunnaki cloned species had failed and died off. Unfortunately for earth’s aborigines, for such they are, the unnatural species proliferated, conquered the Earth and are in the process of destroying it utterly, if given enough time.

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  2. deteremineddespitewp

    The development of Tiki into an instrument of death has been handled so smoothly over the past posts. I like the notion the men now see her as a means of punishing a transgressor, a kind of back-handed respect, although a view never unsullied. You are keeping a good balance between the growing strength of the women and yet the horrific suppression they must deal with.

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    1. Sha'Tara Post author

      The women, of course, are nothing more than tools on Malefactus. But you are correct, that bit or recognition of Tiki does demonstrate that the men are aware of her potential value to themselves within their (unbeknownst to them) utterly skewed system!

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  3. Hyperion

    How powerful a show of respect when an Alpha fighter says thank you to a lesser warrior. This can breed loyalty and respect. I like how Tiki is developing and quickly mastering her weapons and their proper use.

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  4. Sha'Tara Post author

    I learned that at work also. If you stay at a job for 43 years, you have to be doing something right. I wasn’t popular but when union/management problems came up I was the chosen arbiter- they trusted me to see through the problems and find a solution – I was shop steward for 12 years until I voluntarily gave it up. I know I respected the workers, that was most important. Management too, but they had to prove their worth; they didn’t just get respect, they had to earn it with me. Some never did. Some of that could have passed on into my writings, uh?

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