The Iodine Story

The drops of rain boomed like cannon shot as Efren’s tiny fur-covered body huddled inside the natural shelter of plants and trees. His sensitive pointed ears perked up as the swish of cloth neared his hiding place. Darkness hid him and his brothers from the intruders, providing a cover nearly impenetrable. Their very lives depended on invisibility. The pointed blue-green ferns acted as lookout as well. Their leaves, bending with the passage of the enemy, as seen by the keen vision of the natives were tell-tale signs. The intruders were noisy, never having learned to move in harmony with the world. Efren’s natural sensitivity to the energy of his home world we heightened by the danger they faced.
The rock in front of him shielded Zaran from those hideous dark eyes that sought him and his kind. The tiny sparkles of light from the stars reflected on the opaque surface of the monster shells covering the eyes of the enemy. Their laser weapons had a dull sheen as they swung back and forth in search of one of the little people. Even though the searchers used night scopes the Randoni remained hidden. Their ability to camouflage themselves in spite of their light-colored fur allowed them to spy on the invaders with small risk of detection. The experience of being one of the hunted was new to their species, thousands of years of evolution had made them the rulers of their world.
Little did Efren and his brothers know that their deaths were not what were being sought. Capture, a fate worse than extinction, awaited the unwary. They were the last of their kind and were being hunted for their powers. Too quickly had the humans eliminated most of the Randoni shortly after they landed on the planet, well before they had known about the powers the little people possessed, powers that could call down the wrath of the god of this planet or make it a lush paradise. The human reliance on technology blinded them to the possibilities of attunement with the environment on such a scale.
Ronji whined beside his young master. His thick, dark grey coat was covered in water and bogged him down. It was his desire to loose his massive jaws on human flesh that drove him to coil his huge muscles to spring and yet his ties to Efren kept him still as the human warriors walked about seeking, searching and finding no one. The powerful animal knew safety with his friend and master, and yet his instincts told of the danger of these human invaders. His desire to protect his family warred with his desire to please Efren by remaining hidden.
Zaran motioned to his younger brother to stay back as one human warrior approached. The boy, Efren, wanted to be included in the intelligence gathering party and yet he was too young to understand the danger. Death had not been much a part of his young life until the last year when the human beings overran Randon. He could not comprehend the end of his people much less that his own death could be imminent. They lived in harmony with the rest of nature, hunting food but taking only what was needed to survive. The wholesale slaughter of a species was abhorrent to them.
The Randoni were scouting out the human abilities with greater intent than they had done previously. When humans first appeared on their world they were accepted, welcomed. It turned into an old story that harkened back to Earth’s past, the invasion of new territory and the decimation of the native population. Efren had heard stories of how the humans had done this to others of their own kind in the past. Such stories were not believed by such a peaceful people until human fangs were bared when the Randoni tried to stop them from moving into sacred territory.
The idea that a group would be willing to massacre others for territory was too foreign to the Randoni. They lived in peace with the multitude of species on their planet. Their energetic sensitivity led them to know what other species were experiencing and gave them an empathic connection that refused to allow for cruelty. They killed for food, but in the most humane way possible. The concept of deliberate destruction of a sentient species shocked and horrified the little people.
The killings had mobilized the Randoni to defend their way of existence and their very lives. The need to take the lives of human invaders to accomplish this was against their code of ethics, however their continued existence demanded they set aside their values in order to survive. The Randoni culture was being pulled apart by the need to survive and yet maintain their identity. In their way of being, all life was sacred. Taking of life was a necessity, but it was done with ritual and respect. The human invaders had not followed Randoni custom. They wholesalely slaughtered the little people. No offering of respect or ritual, not even a care for the bodies of the dead could be found in the humans’ behavior. It was as if they were exterminating disease-ridden vermin.
Zaran had heard the humans speak about survival of the fittest and how it applied to their own exploits. He shared the concept with his brethren and they had decided that on this planet the Randoni had to be the fittest. Humans had many worlds out there in the universe, the Randoni only the one. It had to be preserved for their species and all the other species with which they shared this life. If that meant compromising their principles, most of the Randoni agreed that their principles were meaningless if their species was wiped out. Some, however, saw this as a test of their adherence to their own morality. The council was split on this issue and the ensuing angers led to potential violence within the ranks of Randoni, something unheard of for millennia. The elders of the Randoni council knew that violating their principles would doom then as surely as their annihilation at the hands of the enemy. The younger hot heads believed that the physical survival of their race was paramount. Tensions that had existed for decades through different philosophies were tearing their culture apart. Did survival at the price of becoming something other than who they were, something lesser in the eyes of their moral code,
Most of their villages had been leveled when they stood up to the human leader Joseph. Little did Joseph know that this only goaded the Randoni into action. They had slunk away, Joseph thought with their tails between their legs to lick their wounds leaving the field open to him and his men. This thunder storm was unpredicted, but Joseph was unaware it had been manufactured by Fallon, a princess of the Randoni. Her abilities included control of such forces of nature as well as many others.
Fallon was a sweet young girl when the humans came. Only 9 Randoni years old at that time, she was one of the powerful maji already. She loved her planet and all that lived there, seeking harmony with every creature. Humans taught her to kill. Although she had not yet used the power to take life, she had learned that she had the capacity to do so. It was a frightening idea for such a young girl. Knowing that extent of her own power was both enlightening and terrifying. Even at her tender age, Fallon knew that her choices would drive her people into their future. Her teachers knew her level of power could be temptation. They had instilled a strict moral code into the girl. Her awareness of the potential consequences of the wrong decision stayed her hand when her ire rose. She would not doom her people though displays of temper.
As she stood inside the keep, her small hands raised to summon the storm, Fallon’s soft golden fur stood on end, coming to its full 2-inch length with the electrical tension of her energy. She glowed, a soft yellow-blue light surrounding her, making her huge forest green eyes even larger. For someone so tiny she controlled incredible power. Only 2 ½ feet tall, the smallest of her age group, Fallon was respected by children and elders alike. Her posture was incredibly straight and she seemed to grow in size as the storm brewed. It was as if the power of the maj had inhabited her and caused her to expand physically in order to channel it.
Her family had been killed in the early days of the human invasion. She had been taken in by the maji clan, a group of those who wielded power beyond the norm for Randoni. Even the wizened, grey-furred Trefion was awed by the control this child had over their home world. She had summoned this storm in order to have her people covered while scouting the human camp and equipment. Her friends were among those on the scouting mission so Fallon was extremely careful to increase the force of the storm. Their lives and freedom depended on not being noticed or caught.
No Randoni would be harmed by the storm. So great was Fallon’s control over natural forces, she could indeed control where lightning struck and tell it to avoid her people. Unfortunately, she couldn’t control the humans and their weapons of destruction.
In the lower areas of the Randoni keep far underground, Martren tended the wounded. His face was a study in frustration as he bent over injured children. His orange-red fur was matted with dirt and blood of the wounded. His hands-on approach not only yielded incredible healing results, it left him covered with the negative energy and the blood of the injuries. Martren took his work seriously. As the most powerful of the healers, he felt it enjoined on him to keep his people well. The sheer number of wounded was telling on the aging healer. While his skills had not diminished through the years, his energy had. Weariness overtook him, watching the wounded suffer drained him. The stench of burnt flesh and singed fur permeated the keep. Martren’s nose wrinkled as it crept into his sensitive nostrils.
Edon, Fallon’s young brother, lay still on his bedding on the last of the cots in the healing area, barely breathing through his injured lips. His nose was blocked, the small appendage crushed by a blow from an angry Joseph. The elderly healer had spent considerable energy healing others before Edon was brought in and his weariness ws evident in the droop of his shoulders.
Martren paced the small room. He knew that Edon must be saved and fully healed. Almost as powerful as his older sister, Edon must play a role in the saving of Randon. His saucer-shaped orange eyes followed Martren as he moved. No sound came from the 7-year-old despite the gravity of his injuries. He knew Martren’s energy and concentration must not be disturbed. Such a great healer had to be in contact with the life energy of their small planet in order to impart it to the injured. Despite his great age, Martren still had the power to overcome serious, even deadly injuries, but only in concert with maj, the planet’s energy field. Edon’s sensitivity to the maj actually benefited the healer, providing another conduit for the energy to flow. The boy knew he needed to conserve his own energy in order to assist the healer. He closed his eyes lightly and extended his energy field. Edon had to work to shut out the pain radiating from the other injured Randoni. He could understand the toll their suffering took on the healer who had to open himself to it in order to enhance their healing.
As Edon lay on his pallet, his thoughts drifted back to his last encounter with Joseph. The human leaders’ six foot two inch frame towered over the Randoni delegation. Dark green military fatigues contrasted sharply with the varicolored fur of the Randoni. Joseph’s monochrome clothes reflected his black and white thinking and the frown on his brow indicated his level of upset with the natives.
When the Randoni peace delegation spoke with Joseph to attempt to work out a solution to the military invasion they were ignored. The human leader’s voice boomed and echoed against the dark rock outcroppings that surrounded them as he made his pronouncements. He chose to believe that the Randoni would just obey him as his human subordinates did. Little did he realize that the Randoni did not operate on such dictatorial terms, their connection with the planet’s life energy made them much more aware of the possibilities and options for any situation than humans foresaw.
Zebron and Petriol, two members of the maji council, presented a compromise plan. Joseph’s laugh was snide. It was obvious he didn’t believe the Randoni had any power to withstand a human takeover. He paced before the group, looking down at the delegation. The small stature of the Randoni natives only fueled Joseph’s belief that they were powerless.
“We will establish our colonies where it is best for us. Keep out of our way and all will be well.” Joseph had wheeled to face the natives and stood with military precision. He pulled himself up to his full height, intending it to intimidate the much smaller species.
Zebron shook his head slightly, his bluish-black fur catching the firelight. His yellow eyes flashed as the peered at the human commander. “You cannot settle on our sacred areas. There is plenty of land available. We can work together to settle you appropriately.”
Joseph harrumphed. “You listen to me—we are in charge here, not you!”
“We’ll see about that,” Petriol shouted. The Randoni maji was nearly as hot tempered as the human leader. His posture was almost a mirror of Joseph’s aggressive stance. His eyes flashed with fire of determination. “This is our planet. You have not authority here, human.”
Joseph’s temper flared and he lashed out with a karate chop at Zebron, thinking that crushing the elderly leader would quell the group. Young Edon jumped forward and pushed Zebron aside. He took the blow intended for the Randoni elder and fell as if pole axed.
Zebron quickly summoned the mist and the Randoni escaped under its cover. Petriol grabbed him and carried the injured boy into the caverns. That was all Edon remembered until he awoke in the chamber with Martren.
His face was swollen and painful, his nose had been broken and his breathing was labored. As one of the maji he was able to control his body enough to damp down the pain, however he needed assistance for full healing. Edon knew that Martren would be able to enhance his own ability and forward the healing quickly. The healer was extremely skilled, though his experience with combat wounds was limited. Edon’s injuries, though, were not that difficult to treat. A few more minutes of meditation to clear the negative energies and Martren could begin.