Page 4 of Wired Strong

Connor shut his eyes.

Self-consciousness fell away.

That quiet place, that deep stillness inside him, rose up and enveloped him.

He was pure energy, a column of bright aqua blue with a white-hot core.

Connor could see the Master behind his closed eyes—a lustrous, deep violet energy form. He perceived the color signatures of the men watching and witnessing around them; the light of their presences created a pulsing container in which he and the Master would pit themselves against each other—not in a fight, but adance.

Connor moved forward, coming in from the side, slowing time so that his movement cut through space like a scythe severing silk. The Master matched him, blow for blow and kick for kick.

They wound around each other in an intricate choreography, never quite connecting, their patterns bouncing and reflecting, variations on a theme. Around and around they went, atoms in a molecule, ever spinning and perfectly balanced: a lightning storm of energy discharges that hurt no one.

Connor opened his eyes—he wanted tosee this!

The two of them were about twelve inches off of the ground, whirling like dervishes.

The second his brain processed the realization that he was aloft, floating in the air, Connor crashed to the ground—and it hurt like a mofo.

The Master drifted down to land on the stones beside Connor. The gasps and murmurs of the men were silenced as he turned to face them.

“Now you see the ultimate of what we train for. Once the martial arts forms of your training are memorized, and once you have mastered your bodies, you can transcend physical limitations. All is ease and flow; matter is just energy moving through space. If you are willing to make the sacrifices necessary, if you are willing to surrender your beliefs about what defines us—you too, can dance on the air.” The Master caught Connor’s hand, hefting him to his feet. He held Connor’s fist up into the air. “Behold, my Number One! Give him your respect.”

Hundreds of trainees fell to their knees and bowed, touching their foreheads to the ground. They rose and cried in one voice,“Number One! Number One!”

Connor shut his eyes, overwhelmed, and let their energy swirl around him, lifting him off the ground once more.

* * *

Later in the evening,Connor sat on top of the six-foot-high, one-foot-wide tiger’s eye column in the Master’s garden, his legs folded beneath him in lotus position.

The Master sat at the tea table under his favorite flowering orchid tree. He was eating, but Connor would not. That was discipline for Connor’s breach of faith in the sparring ring.

The Master finished his meal and sat back. “You have questions.”

Even though fifty feet or so separated them, Connor could hear the Master perfectly. “They are more like concerns, Master,” Connor said.

“Tell me.”

“I want a leadership partner to help run the compound when you’re away. I would like to focus on the administrative side of the Yam, and continue my vigilante justice activities via computer.” Connor saw no point in prevarication. “I had hoped Pi would be my partner, but that was the wrong choice, as you know. In his stead, I would like to nominate my man Nine. I trust him. He is completely loyal to both me and the Yam Khûmk?n.”

The Master poured himself more tea from an elegant china pot. He’d braided his hair, and his sternly handsome profile was turned toward the lotus pond, as he watched the darting of a dragonfly over the blue-purple flowers blooming on the water. “Nine is not a leader. He is loyal, yes, but he does not inspire. We don’t have anyone right now with that potential, but we will, eventually. I will resume the day-to-day leadership of the men and their training for now as we search for such a candidate, and you can develop our online presence and further our agenda from the top room.”

“Thank you, Master. I am grateful. This will be a better situation for the Yam Khûmk?n long term.”

The “top room” was the computer lab, located in the highest tower in the compound, where they could get the strongest satellite wireless signal. In the time the Master had been away with his consort, Pim Wat, Connor had re-done that room to his own specifications.

“I have another concern, Master.” Connor tried to ignore the tightness of apprehension in his chest about bringing this up, but it had to be dealt with. “It is about my servants from Phi Ni, Nam and Kupa. Nam has been helping in the garden, but does not feel like that is enough for him to do. And his wife, Kupa, is a gentle soul. She has been very unhappy in her role as Pim Wat’s personal servant.”

The Master sighed, and set down his teacup. Per usual, he answered only what he chose to. “Nine does have certain potential. Credibility, if you will. He is technically good with the martial arts forms; therefore, I will have him work with the men on their morning routine. That will free my time as well.” The Master crumbled a bit of bread in his fingers. “Pim Wat will be back soon from her surgeries, and I will spend more time with her. She torments those near her when she’s bored.” The Master gestured to the beautifully flowering beds that lined the stone walls of his inner sanctum. “I will reassign Nam to be your personal assistant since Nine will be busy with the men. But Nam clearly knows plants. He can spend any remaining time he has assisting the gardening staff. As to Kupa, she came here as a refugee; it is unfair to use her in such a way. But she will have to endure until we can find a replacement.”

Relief loosened Connor’s spine. He inclined his head. “Thank you, Master.”

“I would assign one of the men to attend to Pim Wat, but I would not trust them to resist her allure,” the Master said darkly.

Connor suppressed an internal shiver. Pim Wat did indeed weave a spell, and it was a seductively malignant one. The woman was an amoral psychopath. He’d hoped that she was “healed” by her time with the Master on his secret island; but Kupa’s reports had informed him that, if anything, she was more lethal than ever. He would have to find a way to coach Kupa to guard her mind and emotions from Sophie’s sadistic mother.But how?

The Master spoke as if Connor had said the words aloud. “Tell Kupa that, in her way, Pim Wat cares for her. She hurts the ones she loves.”

---