Sophia Jade Grace Sufi Wattsida SOPHIE (5/30/2011-10/15/25) Emily (Em) Watts (6/2009-2/25/2026)

Both of my home family loved ones have crossed over since February 15—both Sophia (15+yrs my dear, loving Shitzu-Yorkie Shorkie; and Emily, my dear 17+yrs sweet-petite orange-white tabby with golden eyes). I come home when I choose to, to an empty nest. For most of the last nearly two weeks since Em’s passing, an orange cardinal has been flying at and pecking on my living room bay-picture windows. Some tell me this is a communication from a recently departed loved one (hello Emily and/or Sophie!); online it says the bird may be attacking what he perceives as a rival in his reflection during mating season. I call him Hugh and communicate with him as he perches now on a rake I have put up to the window. His pecking is a constant reminder of all of my departed loved ones who have found their freedom to soar as Soul in the realms beyond.

I aim to serve life with love, as best I am able day by day; and I choose to continue to do so  as long as I might continue to be of some value to others. Yet every day, as my college philosophy professor mentor Toni P. first reminded me to do, “I close my eyes and dive into the Ocean,” for me through daily contemplation that helps me realize how temporary is this physical lifetime. I have even lately thought of wanting to move on, to follow Sophie and Emily and other Friends who have translated into higher forms this past few years. Yet, while driving with such thoughts I looked to see a billboard that simply stated: STAY ALIVE! So, it is time to move forward again here and now.

We are as fish in the Ocean some call God: the totality of awareness and life essence; divine Love flowing out from the Source of all creation and back again via the current pulse of Spirit. Fish with our flimsy little bodies that flash in flossam and sunlight near the surface then descend as silvery shadows into the depths and Beyond.

So I return to blog here after a period of trial and mourning.

Here below then to continue the installments begun in the previous 5 posts are Chapters 11 & 12 of Out There, Come! The Dawnbreakers Chronicles, Book I.

Chapter 11

The single sustained note of a wiskera, the traditional Sadhanean flier-bone flute, was the only sound heard above the low motion of feet as the ceremonial procession wended slowly along the wooded path to the rock outcrop site overlooking the unplanescaped Madwin Canyon.  Jina, in her role as koa, led the procession in silence, holding before her a bright torch of blue flame to illuminate the otherwise still unlit pathway.  She wore a full length, dark blue hoodless robe.  The melodic tone was drifting back to the group from where Jondek sat playing the instrument at the clearing by the outcrop which Kairn and Jenu had selected for their ceremony.

Behind the koa were the chuwabi aspirants, Kairn and Jenu, walking in silence side by side.  They wore identical light blue, knee length wraps finely embroidered with silver and blue geometric designs along the collar, short-sleeved cuffs and hem.  They also wore woven sandals for their walk which they would remove when they arrived at the site.  Throughout the ritual they would stand barefoot to symbolize the naturalness of their chuwabi connection upon the holy grounds of the Spiral Way.  Behind the pair walked Arhat Benath and Ilo, who would stand as witnesses for Jenu and for Kairn, respectively.   Following the witnesses were the attendant guests, including all fifteen of the other active Madwin chakkyas; three of the tutors who served the temple by teaching the secular courses; Gysell, the children’s caretaker; Learna and Clarnl from Madwin’s dining service;  Kairn’s aunt Laina with her husband, two young daughters and one older son, and Jenu’s aunt Anja, who had come alone.

The tall, upward spiraling silhouettes of trees defining the planescaped boundary of the Madwin Canyon ridge were barely visible as the procession reached the outcrop clearing.  The light that did reach the clearing was from the unfiltered canyon itself; solar light reflected from the brown dwarf Brkalya, now a dull orange glow in the sky as the Morning Star.  Jina lit the candle lanterns Ilo had placed around the rock platform before she stepped up onto the platform herself.  Jondek continued to sound the wiskera, sitting on a fallen tree trunk next to the clearing.  On the platform, ritual paraphernalia were arranged upon a draped, low folding table.  There was a bowl filled with water and beside it a large white candle with two wicks.  A flamestarter was next to the candle.

The guests found seats where Ilo, Kairn and Jina had set them up the day before, placed in two arced rows like in an ampitheater.  Kairn and Jenu removed their sandals and stepped up onto the rock platform with Jina, facing toward the canyon where Satri-11 would be rising soon.  Jina stood with her back to the canyon, facing the chuwabi pair.  Benath and Ilo also stepped up onto the platform as the witnesses, standing to the right of the ritual triad and facing them. 

Jina first addressed the audience to explain the process and meaning of the chuwabi rite for the sake of those who had not attended one before.  “The two standing before you now are to be linked in the Spiral Way as chuwabis,” she said, repeating the words from the koa script.  “The symbols used in this ceremony, including music, water and fire, signify that this union is sanctified by the light and sound essence of the Spiral Way, Itself.”

Jina turned her attention back to Kairn and Jenu, smiling.  In unison they began their vows, first addressing the koa:

“Before time and the finite worlds of matter, we existed together, two born as mirrors of the One.  In the essence of the Way we two Hamsas were propelled into creation together, paired in dual bodies like a double sun.”

Jina next spoke the koa’s words of recognition:

“As two in One united have I witnessed thee, each a mirror to the other.”

Jenu and Kairn turned to face one another.  Between them and Jina was the table with the bowl of water and a double-wicked, white candle.  Jenu primed the flamestarter and held it to light the wick on his side, then he handed it to Kairn, who lit the other wick and replaced the flamestarter on the table.  Then each spoke in turn, Kairn first:

“As one Light to quell the darkness, we burn bright.”

Then Jenu:

“As two flames unite in strength to light the darkness, so shall we share our insights freely with one another.”

The witnesses stood in silence.  Benath and Ilo each held their hands up in front of their chests together with their fingers lightly touching and pointed upwards. This symbolized their holding the unified energy of the chuwabi pair.

Kairn and Jenu each took a half step closer to one another.  They linked hands on both sides between them and inclined their heads toward one another in a bowing gesture until the tops of their foreheads barely touched. They closed their eyes.  Symbolic of their connecting together with the Spiral Way via the spiritual channel open at the top of their heads, this gesture was said to actually merge their personal magnospheric fields, augmenting and amplifying the telepathic communication that chuwabis naturally share.

Jenu and Kairn both felt the world slip away with this contact.  Kairn experienced an inner, blue-white Light of great intensity.  Jenu saw on his inner viewscreen two enormous, catlike eyes focusing on him as though beaming unconditional love.  Was this Kairn?

A ripple of awe came over the onlookers as even they could hear a sustained, clear ringing tone, a sound frequency resonating from the two chuwabis themselves as they joined their spiritual energies at the foreheads.  The tone, similar to the simple, single tone of the wiskera, lingered in the air even after Jenu and Kairn stood back a step again, still facing one another.

“Chuwabis,” uttered Jina officially in witness of their successful joining. “Chuwabi,” rejoined Kairn and Jenu, looking at each other and speaking in unison. They dropped their outer-linked hands and pivoted to face Jina again, still holding each other’s inside hands lightly at the center.

“Go now to discover the common pathway you Hamsas have forged to lead you, together and alone, into the unity of the Spiral Way. Together or alone, you shall never be parted, for your cords of affinity link you in the Way even as all Hamsas eventually discover they, too, share in the ultimate unity of Spiral Way essence.  Go forth then, chuwabis, into the Heart of the Spiral Way as It beckons you, each and together, to find and fulfill your true Hamsa potentials.”

Jina pressed the palms of her hands one after the other softly into the bowl of water and then placed one palm each simultaneously on the chuwabis’ foreheads.  She closed her eyes and sang forth in a long, drawn-out intonation the sacred universal prayer song of HU.  Then she removed her palms from Kairn and Jenu’s foreheads and stepped back. 

Jenu and Kairn, visibly glowing in the radiance of the moment, each thanked their koa Jina with the ancient Sadhanean blessings.  Then, still holding hands, they stepped together down from the rock platform and walked along the aisle between the two rows of guests back toward the Madwin temple compound. 

The guests disbanded, most of them cheerfully silent in appreciation of the sacred event they had witnessed. The children from the first lenardik tsana circle, though, chattered excitedly and asked Gysell to explain to them what they had seen.  Finally, Gysell grouped the youngsters into pairs and ushered them, still chattering, back toward the compound.

After Benath congratulated Jina on her service and acknowledged with her and Ilo the obvious strength of the chuwabi link they had forged, Jina and Ilo also left for home, but Benath stayed behind at the outcrop, wanting to spend some time alone.  He stood at the lip of the rock platform, looking out into the unfiltered canyon, now a pale yellow with the radiance of Satri-11 in contrast with the gold-auburn morning tones surrounding him in the woods. 

Benath remembered his own chuwabi union as a young man with Pilthard, his older brother.  Pilthard had been a communications technician who left Guvral for Sadhana on the same vessel as Zecctu during the fateful prelude to the Abandonment of Guvral.  Through the nearly five lenardiks since that time, Benath still often felt his own chuwabi’s presence as a gentle, supportive awareness, even though Benath had sensed immediately when Pilthard’s body was slain, a day or so after the space transport would have reached Sadhana.   Now Benath sat on the rock outcrop platform and visualized his brother and Arhatek Zecctu standing before him, side by side.  In his vision, Benath saw both of them clearly in their radiant Light bodies, like moving holopics.

“Benath,” said Zecctu fondly, reaching his hands forward to embrace one of Benath’s.

“Arhat Zecctu,” Benath acknowledged simply, still sitting cross-legged on the rock, his head bowed.  Then he looked into the ethereal visage of Pilthard and turned to him, joining his other hand with him so that all three were united.

“Chuwabi,” Benath both said and heard simultaneously from his brother. Then they released each other’s hands and Benath stood with them to form a triad together. 

Benath addressed Zecctu aloud.  “Please, Arhat, help me better understand my role in this mission to which you have called the chakkyas.”       

“Your place is here, where it has always been,” answered Zecctu.

“Soon we will be reunited in the Spiral Way again,” stated Pilthard.  “For our journey Home together has only yet begun.”

Chapter 12

“Are you two going to get married and have kids now?”

“Joilya is my chuwabi!”

“Yeah!  Me and Sartya are just like you and Jenu, Arhati Kairn.  Benath says we’re like twins but only we are born from different mothers.”

“Yeah!  That’s so we could come here to Madwin and be best friends!”

The children of the first semi-lenardik, pre-tsana circle were still excited about Kairn and Jenu’s chuwabi ceremony.  Kairn and Jenu were both still glowing from the ceremony, too, as they listened to the children’s questions the next morning during their tsana-prep session.

“Not all chuwabis get married, you know,” said Kairn with a smile in reply to Sartya’s sincere query.  “Jenu and I are like twins, too, and we will always be connected inside, no matter what else happens.”

“We were happy you could all come to our ceremony yesterday, chakkyas.  That was important to both of us.”  Jenu felt Kairn’s encouragement to continue.  It was as if they could read each other’s thoughts and emotions today, more so than before the ceremony.  Jenu didn’t even have to look at his chuwabi to sense her intention for him to open the tsana prep discussion.

“Will you tell us, too, about your dream Teacher, Jenu?  Was he at the ceremony, too, on the Inside?”  The question came from Likera, nearly six years old, a rather precocious and sweet-tempered little girl with bright orange hair that fell in a bob to her neckline and with remarkably clear, sea green eyes.   Kairn and Jenu looked quickly at each other in surprise.

Jenu shrugged his shoulders.  “Who did you hear about my dream Teacher from, Likera?”

“Jondek and Charlya and Lopth were playing skroat with us last night after dinner, and Lopth told us all about how the second lenardiks will be going away pretty soon with Arhat Benath’s teacher Zecku who is your dream Teacher, too.  He said you will be leaving on a starship!”

Kairn frowned.  She did not believe it was a good idea to tell the children about the mission yet.  It would be difficult enough for them to comprehend, and she was afraid they were going to feel abandoned when the older chakkyas would leave Madwin, so they needed the right timing and care when being told.  She had raised her concerns in tsana and thought that all the chakkyas had agreed to wait before telling the children until Benath would call a joint, special tsana session to brief them.  That had been Benath’s suggestion.  So, how much more should they reveal to the youngsters now that Lopthorn had already stimulated their curiosity and probably also their anxieties?

“If we would need to go away, we would tell you about it first, all of you.  And we would only leave Madwin for a very good reason, to help all of you, too, when we return.  But let’s talk about this later with Arhat Benath, okay?”  Likera seemed the least satisfied of all the children with Kairn’s obvious efforts to avoid answering her question directly.

“But I want to come, too!” said Likera, insistently.  “Will you take me with you when you go?”

“Me, too!”

“And me!”

“Wait a bit, all of you!”  Jenu and Kairn both sensed that the session was fast getting out of control.  They would have to do something quickly to quiet the children and turn their attention to their pre-tsana lesson.

“Like Arhati Kairn has said, we will tell you all about this with Arhat Benath in just a few days, okay? But if the second lenardiks do have to go away for a while, Arhat Benath will need all of you to stay here with him, more than ever! Okay?”  Jenu hoped this would satisfy the youngsters.

Likera and the other children looked restless and dubious still, so Jenu interjected before they could erupt into another outburst.  “Okay now, look, kids, let’s get started talking about your tsana lesson for the week, okay?  Arhat Benath told us some of you are really liking this one!”

“I do!”

“Me, too!”

“Well then tell us about it, Kryl.”  Jenu’s ploy had worked, at least temporarily.  Only Likera still seemed disappointed.  She remained quiet for the rest of the session.

“It’s about making believe come true,” answered Kryl, a usually shy five-year-old, “in your ‘magination.” 

“Yeah!  Arhat Benath said it’s like a game, called ‘As If’,” added Joilya gleefully.

“As if?’ queried Kairn, probing for further discussion.  “What does that mean, ‘As If’?  Could one of you explain that?”

“As If means make believe it is real and then it will be!” Kryl stated gleefully, as though explaining something very basic.

“Okay, Kryl, thanks, that’s very good!  But maybe what the lesson says even more specifically, is: Make believe it’s true and then it CAN be,” corrected Jenu gently.  “Do any of you see the difference in saying it that way?”  Six young faces looked blankly at Kairn and Jenu and then all around the domed recreation area. Likera was still sulking, not attending to the discussion at all. Jenu looked to Kairn for some assistance.

“You pretend in your imagination that you will get ahead of the others at skroat, for example, and then it is easier for you to play that game and you might even win,” encouraged Kairn.  “You may not win still, but that doesn’t matter.  If you can imagine yourself winning, you’ll play better anyway.”

“So, you mean if Prib and me both think real hard about our mother coming to visit, then she will come?”  Four-year old Markl Priblk looked hopefully at his twin brother sitting beside him, Pribn, who didn’t look very assured by his brother’s sudden brainstorm.  Kairn and

Jenu knew that their mother Cyrila, burdened with five other children at home, had not visited the twins nor come to take them for a holiday at all since she had brought them to Madwin over a year ago.

“Playing ‘as if’ could help you imagine what it would be like for your mother to visit you, Markl and Pribn.  It could feel like she’s really here then, even if she doesn’t come on the Outside.  You can talk to her on the Inside this way, and you can tell her everything you want to say to her, anything at all.  Maybe she will bring you things on the Inside, too, or maybe she will hug you both and tell you how she loves you, very much.”

“But what good is that game if she never really comes?”  Little Prib, as his friends called him, who hardly ever spoke at all in these sessions, had had his say.  He turned his head and looked dejectedly outside the clear dome shell.  Kairn got up from her mat and took it with her to sit down next to Pribn.  She took his left hand and held it warmly as his mother might do were she there.  “Dear Little Prib, you will never be without a family as long as you are here at Madwin.”  Pribn looked around shyly at the others in the room, all of whom were beaming smiles back to him.  He looked out of the dome again, shyly.  His brother looked at the floor.

“I’m your older sister,” offered five-year old Sartya.

“My father never comes for me, either,” piped in Joilya, also four.  “But that’s okay because I like it better here anyway,” she added bravely.

“Yeah, I’ll be finishing my first semi-lenardik after this year,” contributed Kryl, the oldest of the children’s circle at almost fully six.  “But I would miss you all too much if I went back to my family now.  I’ve asked my aunt and uncle to let me stay for the first lenardik finishing circle. They don’t want me to, but Arhat Benath said he’ll talk to them, so maybe I can stay.”

This was a fairly typical tsana prep session, Jenu realized.  He and Kairn almost always found it difficult to keep the children’s attention focused on their lessons, but Benath had taught them that was not important.  The sessions gave the children a chance to express themselves freely within their tsana circle, and that was the best preparation for the Ynardk tsana dream teachings.

When it was time to close the session, all but Likera scrambled outside to play in the playground behind their building before lunch.  Likera came over to Jenu and Kairn, who were collecting mats and tidying the room.   

“I really am supposed to come with you on your star trip.”  She addressed Kairn plainly.

“Why?” responded Kairn.  Both she and Jenu were somewhat taken aback by the young chakkya’s directness.

“I just am,” Likera answered.  “I dreamed it.”

“You dreamed it?” Kairn raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, last night I did.”

“What was your dream about?” asked Jenu.

“There was this real tall man.  He had hair on his chin, and he told me he wanted me to go on a trip with you and Jenu on a big boat like a flier in the stars.  He asked me if I wanted to go with you, and I said yes, I do.  Then I saw Arhat Benath next to that man and he told me I could stay at Madwin with him, but I said I really wanted to go and I am supposed to go with you.   Then the tall man reached out and I took his hand and he brought me to you, Arhati Kairn.  Then I saw all of the second ‘nardiks were packing things in big boxes.  Then where one of the boxes was there was a big metal flier machine instead!  It had a long back with seats on it and we were all going to climb up by a ladder into those seats and it would fly us away.  Then I woke up.”

Kairn and Jenu were quiet at first after listening to Likera’s report about her obviously lucid dream.  It seemed very possible the tall man with the beard had indeed been Arhatek Zecctu.  No contemporary Guvralean had significant facial hair, so Likera would be unlikely to have conjured such a figure, unless one of the older chakkyas had described that feature to her.

“Did Jondek show you the sketch book he’s been making?”  Jenu realized this could be what had happened, since Jondek had been assigned the role of chronicler for the mission, and he was using his artistic skills to sketch out what Jenu had shared in tsana about his dreams.

“No.”

“Let’s all go look for Arhat Benath and tell him about your dream, okay?  Maybe he is in the temple,” suggested Kairn.  “You can tell him about your dream, Likera, and maybe he will help you understand its meaning for you.”

“Where are we going to go on the starship?  When will we be going?”  Likera’s persistence was amazing in itself, exchanged Kairn and Jenu through their chuwabi thought valence.  It still startled them somewhat when their thoughts coincided internally with such clarity.  They looked knowingly at one another, grateful for this inner connection yet still a bit uncertain how it worked.

“You can ask your questions to Arhat Benath, okay Lika?  But first we’d better tell him about your dream.  He will know what to do about it, better than us.”

“Okay!”  Likera led the three of them out from the rec area door. She ran excitedly across the plaza to the temple doors and waited for Jenu and Kairn to catch up.

Benath was preparing for the midday tsana, sitting before the desk in his study behind the antechamber, when Likera came bursting through the open door to his study followed by the nearly breathless Kairn and Jenu.  While hearing Likera tell her dream, Benath was less surprised than Jenu and Kairn had been.  He looked at Likera calmly.  When she finished her recall, he put his right palm lightly on her left shoulder.  “Yes, Likera, that was Arhatek Zecctu in your dream. He is a special dream Teacher who was my own Arhat at Madwin many lenardiks ago.” 

Benath smiled reassuringly at Likera then turned to address Kairn and Jenu.  “She is meant to come with you, about this her dream is clear.  She chooses of her own accord to answer Zecctu’s call, as have you and the other chakkyas.” Turning back to Likera, he addressed her in a more somber tone.  “We will have to speak with your family about this matter, Likera.  Because of your age they will have to agree for you to go on this voyage with the second lenardik chakkyas.  Do you understand?”

“But they will never understand!  They will say no, I just know it!”

“Nevertheless, this is a rule at Madwin that we simply must obey.  If it is truly your calling to go on this voyage, Likera,” said Benath sympathetically, “then your parents will know this, deep in their Hamsa awareness, and they will not interfere with your decision.”

“We will talk to them with you, if you need us to,” Kairn spoke for both herself and Jenu.  Jenu nodded his agreement.

“Yes, Likera,” added Jenu.  “We will try to help your parents understand.”

“Why wait?” Benath offered.  “We can call them now!”  He reached for the video com transmitter on his desk.  He touched a few icons while everyone waited.  Likera’s father answered the com first.  He was apparently at work in the agri labs, for behind him Jenu and Kairn could see experimental crop trays full of green sprouts set out on long rows of high, white tables. Likera’s father, Jiktol, had answered a portable com device he carried in his lab coat pocket.  Just after Benath exchanged greetings with Jiktol, Likera’s mother Antarna’s image appeared on Benath’s comscreen in a circle in the upper right quadrant.  Benath adjusted the two images so they were the same size, side by side.

“Hello, Antarna!  I have Jiktol here, too, on another frequency.  I’ll send his vidcom to you along with ours here at Madwin.”

“Okay, Arhatek, I have Jik on screen too, now.  Hi, dear!”  She was in a supplement processing room. The sounds of a conveyor belt could be heard in the background although her own image was set to close-up profile so not much could be seen of the room. “Oh, and hello, Lika!”  Antarna’s face showed sudden concern as it registered that Benath, Jenu and Kairn were all involved in the same call about her daughter.  Jiktol, however, was waiting patiently.  “Is there something wrong, dear?” asked Antarna cautiously.

“No, Mother!  But I have to tell you and Father something big!”

“Your daughter has had a dream she wishes to share with you,” explained Benath.  Antarna looked relieved and Jiktol smiled as though ready to be amused.  “We believe her dream may relate to some similar, recurring dreams that Jenu here has been having involving an inner dream Guide who resembles exactly a Teacher figure appearing in your daughter’s dream.      The second tsana chakkyas have interpreted Jenu’s and some others of their own dreams, too, as a call to outer action from this dream Guide.  Several weeks from now they are in fact now planning to embark upon a journey, a space voyage within the Satri-11 system, searching for a sister colony to Guvralea as foretold in Jenu’s recurring dream sequence.  Your daughter Likera has interpreted her own dream from last night to mean that she is being asked to go along on the space mission!”

Jenu looked briefly at Kairn, trying to conceal his incredulity.  Why is Benath telling so much of the story at once and before the Council hearing? Won’t this overwhelm Likera’s parents? he thought-directed to his chuwabi.

Kairn, perceiving Jenu’s concern, smiled back at him with confidence.  She sensed Benath had good reason for being so direct.  Straight and simple! she thought back to Jenu, repeating in her mind Benath’s common expression when encouraging effective dreamtelling in tsana.  Jenu, who suddenly remembered this catch phrase of Benath’s, too, smiled at his chuwabi in return.

Likera’s parents were astounded.  Jiktol spoke first. “What are you actually telling us, Arhatek?  Likera wants to go off on some sort of space trip?  How?  No one has travelled in space further than Prkalk for nearly five lenardiks!  How can the other chakkyas even be thinking of trying this?”  He turned to look at his daughter. “Likera, why don’t you tell us, sweetie, what is this really about?”

“Like Arhat said, I dreamed about a man with hair on his chin!  He told me I’m supposed to go away on a big flier machine in the sky with my Arhatis and other second ‘nardiks!  He said I could stay here at Madwin if I wanted to, but I told him I really want to go!”

“But why, dear?”  Antarna was still trying to comprehend the implications of Benath calling her and her husband about what seemed a simple matter of the chakkyas reading far too much into their nightdreams.  

“Mother, because the man was real!”

“Arhatek,” surely you aren’t encouraging the chakkyas to interpret their dreams so literally!”

“In fact, Antarna, I do believe the man who appeared in Likera’s dream is the same inner dream adept who has been appearing in Jenu’s dreams over several months now and more recently also in Kairn’s.”

Jiktol’s face was growing red with consternation. “But these are dreams!  What do the Madwin chakkyas—any of them—know about space travel?  Are they prepared technologically in case of some sort of mechanical or computer failure?  The interplanetary vessels haven’t even been flown at all in nearly sixty years!”   

Kairn spoke: “One of our second lenardik circle, Sorl, has been investigating the technology.  He has taken advanced training in physics here at Madwin for nearly seven years, and this very afternoon he is leaving to visit Prkalk where there are still some vessels we may use that are being stored there.  He will make a report to us in three days in tsana, after the week-break, about what he learns.  Some of the other chakkyas are making lists of supplies and food supplements we will need.  We have been using tsana now to plan and prepare for the trip.   If Sorl’s report is satisfactory, there should be no reason for us not to make the journey.”

“For how long then?” Jiktol still sounded flustered.

“That is uncertain,” responded Benath.

“Well, in general terms, what? Three weeks, three years?”

“We will know better about how long it could take after Sorl’s report,” contributed Kairn.

“Jiktol, Antarna, perhaps you would like to come sit in on our next tsana session?  Then you will have more information about which to make your decision.”  Benath spoke softly and with neutrality.

“Just a minute, please, Arhatek; I would like to speak in private with my husband,” said Antarna.

“Of course.”

The com screens turned to a blue grid, on hold while Antarna and Jiktol communicated privately.   Kairn, Jenu, Benath and Likera sat waiting for several minutes. 

“They just have to say yes, because I have to go with you!”  Likera had set a stubborn face, more serious than either Jenu or Kairn could remember her ever displaying at Madwin.

“Don’t worry, Likera, nothing can interfere with the Way once a Hamsa has truly accepted a course to follow It.  But remember also, young one, there are always more than one path you can take to follow the Way.”

Antarna’s image appeared back on the com device, full screen.  “Jiktol has asked me to handle this from here,” she explained.  “I will attend your tsana when Sorl reports to the group, and we will go from there.”   Turning to look at Likera she spoke further.  “You know your father and I do not like to interfere with your choices, Lika.  We can tell this is important to you, so we will listen.  But, dear, if it seems too dangerous, we will have to say you cannot go and you will have to accept our decision.  Is that clear?”  Likera nodded hopefully.  “And Arhatek, we are thinking that if we do choose not to let her go with the other chakkyas on this voyage they are planning, we may also ask for Likera to return home at that time instead of remaining at Madwin.”

“No, Mother!  Why?”  Likera cried out. 

“Because,” said Antarna firmly.  “From what we have been hearing,” now she addressed Benath directly, “Madwin may not be around next year anyway.  With the Reorganization coming after the next Council, that is what we have heard is most probable.  Are we correct, Arhatek?”

“I do not expect Madwin to be closed down,” replied Benath.  “At worst, I would expect its programs might be gradually phased out.  There are still several strong supporters for the Madwin program in Council.”

“Still,” said Antarna, sounding unconvinced, “we shall see.”