Chapter 8: Spirit Root

Outside the hospice, Old Ma walked around Kaelon pinching his arm, poking him in the ribs, and clucking her tongue.

 "What are you doing?!" Kaelon protested, he was glad there was no one around to see.

 Old Ma shook her head in dismay. "Your body is weak, and your clothes are grey."

 Kaelon had never been called weak before and he really didn't like it. "I am not!"

 "Oh, but you are! One punch and I think you will die."

 Unsure of what to say, Kaelon kept his mouth shut. That vacant gaze of the old woman could really unnerve.

 "First, we need to change your clothes. You cannot wear grey. People will think you are strong and challenge you if they sense weakness."

 "I can do that!" Kaelon brightened, tapping the air to make an adjustment to something only he could see. His clothes rippled changing from the grey of a child to the brown of an assembly line worker. "Done!"

 Old Ma snatched at his ear, pulling it.

 "Ow! Ow!" Kaelon flailed as he bent down.

 "You have no common sense. How you do these things I do not know, but if anyone sees this . . . they will kill you first and ask questions later."

 How can anyone ask questions if you're dead?

 "Kaelon, you must be cautious. Do not get into fights. Bide your time and get strong. Here—" Old Ma pulled out a jiǎndú from a hidden pocket, "—take this."

 Kaelon took the roll of bamboo slips and unfurled it. Each strip was a vertical linen written in a spidery scrawl. There were some smudges as if it had only recently been written and wasn't quite dry. A scan revealed nothing.

 [Unable to access database]

 Ignoring the red prompt hovering in the air before him, Kaelon noticed that Old Ma had gone quiet. He tucked the bamboo scroll away and bowed a little lower than usual as he cupped his hands.

 Nodding appreciatively, Old Ma sighed. "This is a copy of the Seeing Without Seeing Arts. I wrote this for you."

 "Thank you, Old Ma."

 "Do you like my writing? It's like a phoenix descending from the heavens."

 Kaelon couldn't help but wonder what Doctor Dou would say. "So, what do I do with it?"

 "Study it. You see but do not see. This will teach you to see the unseen—good for finding your way in the dark . . . not so good with too many people around."

 "Uh . . ." Kaelon didn't have the heart to tell her that his bionic implants allowed him to see in the dark if he wanted to. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. "Thanks."

 "Just be careful. Treasuring a jade ring—"

 "—Becomes a crime," Kaelon finished.

 Old Ma nodded with a kind smile. "Come, Feixing Martial Hall awaits."

 She tapped her bamboo walking stick about as they walked.

***

Built on the slope of a hill, to elevate it above the houses of Gu Town, stood Feixing Martial Hall. Its stone gate was far more impressive than the gnarled wood of the town gate. Above the entrance hung a wooden board, a biǎn, with letters carved with what must have been a blunt chisel.

 Beyond the gate was a wide yard of half a li where several brown-clad youths were sparring, to one side were a dozen wooden training dummies; to the other, half a dozen archery targets with a central ring carved into their round faces. Each target was peppered with dents from many arrows, none of which were in the centres. In fact, there was a few stray arrows sticking out of the wooden roof of a wide building located furthest from the entrance.

 A stern looking man, with a fúchén made of frizzy horsehair that he used to swat away flies, watched the youths train. It seemed the flies liked him. Noticing the newcomers, he glared at a youth who stiffened as if struck before turning away.

 "What brings you to my Martial Hall?" he asked, looking down his nose at Old Ma.

 Kaelon decided that he didn't like the man whose hair was as frizzy as his horsetail whisk.

 Old Ma bowed slightly and cupped her hands. "Greetings, Hall Master. I bring a new student for you."

 The Hall Master looked at Kaelon a moment, flicking his fúchén in annoyance. The flies had already departed. "Too weak."

 Kaelon figured he had best try to make a good impression. He smiled at the man.

 "He also looks dumb . . . No, we're full. Too many boys here already."

 Laughing nervously, Old Ma nodded. "Ah, yes. I hear that as Hall Master you can turn ore into iron." She turned to Kaelon, elbowing him. "Kaelon, the pouch," she whispered.

 Realising what she meant, Kaelon offered the pouch Old Dou had given him.

 Old Ma turned back to the Hall Master with a wide smile. "We hope that Hall Master can consider just one more student?"

 The Hall Master snatched the pouch, opened it, and eyed its contents. His eyebrows rose and he quickly tucked the pouch away. "Hmm, let me see . . ." he exclaimed somewhat exaggeratedly. "What looks like a pig is in fact a tiger!" He walked around Kaelon as if appraising him, swishing his whisk with enthusiasm. "Yes, yes. Looks so smart! I think there is room for one more student . . ."

 Old Ma broke into a wide smile. "Thank you, Hall Master! Kaelon, bow to your master," she urged. "Just like I taught you," she whispered.

 Is this slavery?

 A little confused by what was happening, Kaelon knelt and kowtowed three times.

 "Good. Good. Now join your brothers—err," the Hall Master said, a moment later he was looking over the boys still practicing their punches in horse stance. "Fatty! Look after this one," he barked.

 A boy with a face as round as his belly stopped his practice—he had only been pretending to put in effort—and hurried over. He made repeated slight bows before grabbing Kaelon by the arm and dragging him away.

 Kaelon barely had time to raise a hand in farewell.

 Old Ma smiled at him proudly and raised her hand briefly before gently turning and leaving the way they had come.

 A pang in his chest reminded Kaelon that he might not see Old Ma again. He didn't want that but now was not the time to dwell on such things. The boy dragging him away was a little too rough.

 What a barbaric creature, Kaelon thought.

 "So, you're my new brother!" Fatty beamed at him.

 Kaelon found this word to be strange. Citizens of Sector 11 were only permitted one child unless given special consideration and, even then, the child would be delivered to a cubicle in another sector. There was never an opportunity to bond. It was inefficient and probably against a regulation Kaelon had yet to become familiar with.

 Glancing at his holopanels, Kaelon frowned. Most of them were useless now because in this world so far from home he couldn't connect with any of the databases.

 I hope I still have a cubicle to go back to.

 Fatty studied Kaelon's expression, waving a hand in front of his face. "Hello? You there? Good! I was starting to think you'd lost your wits," he said. "I'm Zhang Cong, but everyone calls me Fatty."

 "Kaelon."

 Fatty blinked. "Uh . . . do you not have a family?"

 "Oh, Xylar is my family name."

 Fatty blinked repeatedly. "Strange name."

 Kaelon grinned. "I've heard that a few times."

 "Nevermind, strange can be good especially if it tastes good."

 "What?"

 Fatty shaded his eyes as he craned his neck to peer at the sun. "It's almost time for lunch. I'm starved. We get rice and pork but sometimes they change it up with chicken. Chicken is my favourite."

 Coming from a world where animals were extinct, Kaelon just couldn't bring himself to accept that eating animals was okay.

 Animals eating animals is so savage . . . yet my world is worse.

 Kaelon couldn't help but stare at the gates of the Martial Hall.

 "You miss your granny, that's understandable but as men we must be strong!" Fatty affirmed, his eyes began to water a little. "I do miss home . . ." he began, "My mother is the best cook—anyway, enough of that! We're brothers, so don't you worry. I won't let you starve."

 "Thanks," Kaelon remarked. "So, how are we training and why?"

 Fatty gaped a moment before he shook his head. "You're really new. Not to worry, come with me. I'll show how to look like you're training."

 The two boys wandered over to the training dummies where the fat one told the skinny one how to slack off under the Hall Master's watch.

 "Uh, but isn't the point of training to get stronger?" Kaelon asked.

 "Get stronger? No, the point of training is to eat. If you're all tired out, how can you enjoy your food? Don't you worry, I won't lead you astray. Besides, once I become a cultivator, I won't forget you but remember to call me Big Brother!"

 Kaelon noted the far off look in Fatty's eyes as the boy fantasised about something only he could see.

 He is going to drag me down with him.

 At the other end of line of training dummies, a few boys had started practicing punching. The thuds of each impact seemed so far away.

 Kaelon turned to the dummy, ignoring Fatty who was still daydreaming, and balled his hand into a fist. Setting his jaw, he turned to the training dummy before him.

 Given I'm a citizen of Sector 11 and a member of the Gridlock Terminus, there is no way that I, a superior species, will be outdone by a non-citizen.

 Pulling back his fist, he let loose with all the force he could muster. The impact was barely audible, but Kaelon's cry wasn't. He cradled his hand, which swelled and was bleeding. If he could cry, he would have, but his eyes remained dry.

 "Wow, you're tough. Not even a tear. Still . . ." Fatty glanced at the training dummy. "It really isn't worth it. Just wait for me to get chosen."

 "C-chosen?" Kaelon asked.

 "Yeah, there's a test coming up. Your brother here just happens to have a spirit root."

 Kaelon shook his hand, his nanites were busy repairing the damage. It was automatic. "Spirit root, what's that?"

 Fatty whistled. "Have you been living under a rock or in a hole? A spirit root is a . . . it's a . . . well, it's a spirit root." Fatty pointed to his belly. "It means I can feel the energy of Heaven and Earth."

 "Oh?" Kaelon felt his curiousity stir. "What's it feel like?"

 Fatty shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't felt anything." He looked up. "I do feel something though."

 "What's that?"

 "My stomach tells me it's time for lunch."

***

Late into the evening, Kaelon lay on his straw mat. Fatty's was next to his and most of the other boys kept away. Kaelon didn't understand why at first until he heard the boy snoring. It was in that moment that he truly appreciated the quiet solitude of his cubicle in Sector 11.

 Kaelon sighed.

 They're all flora and fauna . . . but they're no different than citizens.

 Nothing was making sense to him. Not the regulation, not the databases he'd studied, and definitely not this place that was so far removed from what he believed paradise was supposed to be.

 Do the regulators have it wrong?

 Fatty half choked in his sleep before resuming his snoring louder than before. It drew Kaelon's attention.

 Spirit root. Do I have one?

 Pinching his thumb and finger, the holographic displays sprung up. Many were still, the streams of data no longer populating their windows.

 "Reconfigure. Active and functional systems only," he whispered in his language.

 A chime sounded.

 [Affirmative]

 The panels closed one by one. The wheel-shaped panel began to change, each of the icons dropping off one after the other. The displays looked so bare. Kaelon felt his mouth go dry and his palms become clammy.

 The data . . .

 "What data do I still have access to?"

 Kaelon paled. In that moment, he felt like he was a victim of a hovercar crash.

 This is bad. Very bad.

 Looking over organised data, Kaelon quickly realised that what he had downloaded into the internal memory of his bionic eyes was a compendium of Binary Institute legislation and regulation, a significant amount of scan data, and the schematics of the technology he'd encountered. Technology that used composite materials and alloys he'd need the advanced replicators of the assembly line to make.

 He gulped, the tightness in his chest making him feel uncomfortable. His nanites were made from the very materials that a primitive civilisation wouldn't have. If he lost any, he wouldn't be able to replace them.

 I will have to find a substitute material in future.

 Kaelon perused his small database. It had even captured his embarrassing moment with the training dummy.

 "Delete recording 1478-64A," he commanded.

 A red panel flashed into being as a ping sounded.

 [INVALID COMMAND! Regulation 11F Section 4 Paragraph 3 states that all data is the property of the Binary Institute and may not be deleted]

 Kaelon blinked. Thankfully his implant software had safety measures in place to prevent breaching a regulation. The last thing he wanted to do was risk his citizenship. A non-citizen was not permitted to have bionic implant technology—it wouldn't just deactivate; it would remove itself from his body.

 A shiver ran up Kaelon's spine. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

 Cocking his head, he regarded the 1478-64A recording. "Run simulation. Progression of physical aptitude. Fourteen day-night cycles."

 A chime sounded.

 Kaelon watched the simulated version of himself training at a greatly increased speed. In seconds it was over. "Assessment?"

 A ping sounded.

 [Nil progression]

 "Run simulation. Progression of physical aptitude until consistent with Fatty."

 [Applying estimated biometric parameters of Specimen 43 to simulation . . .]

 A chime sounded.

 Kaelon watched the simulation. It went on and on until it finally stopped with the small holographic version of Kaelon looking like Doctor Dou and Old Ma – wizened and withered.

 [Nil progression]

 "What?! Report!" Kaelon exclaimed.

 Someone grumbled in their sleep, but Fatty's snores seemed to cover the noise he was making. Kaelon felt a little sorry for them all and couldn't help but think that they would love to have a cubicle of their own.

 A chime sounded again.

 [Nanite suppression of biological inhibitions and telomere degradation will fail in 146,000 day-night cycles . . . Converting . . . Failure estimated in four zero zero years . . . Please report to the nearest assembly line for recycling when prompted . . . Scheduling prompt for Stardate 61994-218. Failure to comply will result in immediate forfeiture of citizenship]

 Kaelon's chin dropped.

 It can't be . . .

 "Run system diagnostic."

 The chime was followed by a green prompt.

 "Enable progression of physical aptitude."

 A red prompt flashed.

 [ACCESS DENIED! Biological auto repair settings require Administrator Access]

 "What is my access level?"

 The information of the panel that constantly ran checks on Kaelon's biometrics and lifesigns expanded slightly.

 [Temporary designation: Explorer . . . Clause 7A of the Exploration Act permits special permissions beyond an existing designation level . . . Prior designation: Technician]

 "Well, it's not a Researcher but at least it's not an Assembler."

 "Use special permissions to enable physiological progress."

 As much as Kaelon tried, he found no way around it. Red panel after red panel fashed before his eyes before he started getting warning messages threatening to dock contributions points, which he didn't have. It was no use. Training would be useless.

 Kaelon looked over at Fatty.

 "You're so lucky and you have a spirit root . . ."

 Blinking, Kaelon sat up.

 Spirit root?

 Crawling towards Fatty, he reached out and lightly placed his hand on Fatty's stomach. Grey goo was expelled as the nanites invaded Fatty's body.

 Snoring as loudly as ever, Fatty had no idea what Kaelon was doing to him.

 A biometric panel for Fatty popped up, showing the rapid progress of nanites through Fatty's body. One system after another was added to the hologram in the display starting with the gastrointestinal system all the way to the cerebrovascular system. Everything was laid bare until the holographic data was just as complex as Kaelon's.

 He's just like me . . . a citizen.

 "Cross-reference with my bio data . . . identify this spirit root," Kaelon whispered the command.

 A chime sounded as the two holographic models updated in real time were overlaid. It left Kaelon feeling nervous. It seemed like it was taking forever until, finally, it stopped.

 [Anomaly identified. Warning! Internal bacteria detected!]

 Kaelon swallowed nervously.

 How can his internal systems not be sterile? That's so gross.

 [Anomaly identified]

 A new panel popped up showing a detailed network of complex nervous tissues that resembled a plant root. Kaelon stared at it in wonder.

 [Extrapolating function. Unable to extrapolate. Assessing tissues . . . Specimen 43 has additional materials suitable for processing. Identifying a species with Class 1 utility is recognisable under the Explorer Act. Report all findings to the Binary Institute]

 Kaelon winced.

 So, he's good nutrient cube material? I'll never report that. Never. He doesn't deserve that.

 Swiping away the prompts, Kaelon gestured to enlarge the hologram of the spirit root.

 "So, this is what I need to cultivate?" He rubbed his chin as his nanites retracted.

 So, I don't have a spirit root and I cannot cultivate. Great!

 Kaelon suddenly noticed that the sound of snoring had ceased.

 Fatty sat up, bewildered by the hand on his belly.

 "Uh, th-this . . ." Kaelon stammered, snatching back his hand.

 Fatty touched his belly. "Don't you worry, brother. We'll get you a belly just like this." He patted his fat.

 "T-thanks," Kaelon answered, he was at a loss as to what to say as he scrambled back to his mat.

 "Get some rest, tomorrow is . . . a big day," Fatty whispered the last part like it was a secret.

 "What do you mean?"

 "Shhhh!" Fatty looked around to make sure no one else was awake and listening. "An immortal is coming."

 "What?! Really?" Kaelon asked, thinking of Doctor Dou.

 "Yeah, so you better rest. You don't want to sleep through it now, it might be your only chance to see one in your entire life."

 Kaelon nodded and laid back down.

 While Fatty rolled over and was already back to snoring, Kaelon ignored him and focused on the hologram of the spirit root.

 I can't modify my existing tissues but maybe I can add to them?

 "Render a compatible spirit root for biomolecular construction . . . target—"

 Kaelon tapped the peritoneal cavity on his hologram.

 A chime sounded.

 [Confirmed. Inducing general anaesthesia . . .]

 "Wha—"

 Before Kaelon could say another word, everything went black.