THE HUNDRED YEAR MAN

Chapter 4

The earth mover was in resting mode again, having carved out room enough for a thriving colony of Madacorians. None of whom wanted anything to do with the new digs. They had retreated into the belly of the beast that they'd called their home for as long as anyone could remember.  

Draxor stood at the lip of the giant circle that framed the underground colony peering into the abyss, chewing a shama-the Madacorian equivalent of an apple. He'd been alone with his thoughts for a time now. And grand they were. Deserts always brought out the best in him. You could see forever in the thin atmosphere. What more appropriate for a philosopher, a seer, who had only to close his eyes to see into eternity? Here, he didn't have to close his eyes.  

"You are not afraid?"  

Marvelito's voice was like a knife to the chest. Draxor had had no sense of his approach. He had all but melted into the landscape. Forced back into his body like a genie into a bottle against its will, he felt both unduly imprisoned and annoyed. The breeze had been whispering to him so gently, caressing his skin like a lover who could only manage such attentiveness from the depths of his solitude. Now whatever brainwaves lent themselves to vaporizing into the depths of infinity were gone, replaced by his more familiar sharply focused mind that didn't miss a trick, oppressive in its vigilance, its hyper-attention to detail. Like the details of Marvelito's visage. 

"Look at yourself. How can you have no sense of what you were born to?" Marvelito's very footsteps penetrated the crusty mantle of desert floor as if it were plush carpeting never before stepped on, leaving imprints that wouldn't fade until the next howling desert wind sand-papered them away. His being was that dense. If he sneezed, he'd no doubt blow Draxor onto the neighboring world. His sinewy muscles in the absence of any body fat to serve as cloaking made him out as a strangely esoteric but powerful wizard who had at his command an army of snakes coiled tightly about his being ready to spring into action at a moment's bidding. "My God, man, you're one of the greatest warrior species the heavens have ever known. Your mere forced exhale has been known to strip an enemy of all defenses like acid on metal for fear of what comes next. I've seen your kind merely lean into an adversary to stop their hearts cold from fear and dread." 

Marvelito smiled, puffing up like a blowfish at the complements. The poor boy had no doubt sensed greatness in himself from a young age but with no one to water and fertilize the seed of his imaginings, the culture of nitwits about him had served to dampen his spirits. He was not yet strong enough to stand on his own, alone but not lonely, with a spirit bright enough to fill the heavens when no other light presented itself. He was not yet ready to be a light unto others as the Buddha would have it. But he'd only known Draxor for a day; give him time.  

"Where is your fearless leader, Dracarius?" 

"Hiding, trembling in fear."  

Draxor laughed at the youth's deliberate and entirely transparent attempts to amuse him. His directness and verbal minimalism were refreshing. "Well, you better take me to him." 

"I fear you will not last long in Dracarius's presence. He talks a mile a minute about things which simply do not matter. His words will chip away at your soul until there's nothing left."  

"Perhaps you'd like to know how it is you came to be so perceptive?" Draxor said, fighting to restrain the latest smirk. It was embarrassing to be so out of control of these newfound facial muscles when the kid so clearly had every one of his so totally under control.  

"Yes, actually, I would."  

"You are not just bold and fearless by nature, your innate body armoring all but impenetrable.... It is part of your warrior's makeup to size up an adversary's merit in a flash."