Characteristic

Cost

END

Cost

3

Cost

5

9

3

3

3

3

4

5

3

3

3

4

3

25

15

10

15

10

10

20

1

1

1

1

1

5

15

15

5

November 10, 1542. Gristtl smiled to himself as he walked forward the weerf. The energy beast that he and Flixx found on Planet Yoroog 4 was dying now and this was the only thing that he could do for it. The weerf's spinning bars of energy were spinning much more slowly now and sparkling less. Before it's shape would be in constant flux, an ellipsoid in one moment, a pinched blob in another. Now it couldn't fluctuate from a spheroid. The weerf hovered only inches from the ground, clearly tired. The weerf was good and loyal and was a great help right after the crash. If Gristtl could save it, he would. So he spread his arms and embraced it.
It had been nearly fifty years, local time, since Flixx's star yacht had crashed in one of the most backwards places on this backwards planet. It was over forty years, local time, since Gristtl and Flixx went their separate ways. True, they met again to spend winter in this mountain cave. But the tension between the childhood friends grew. Being a technologically adept Voolf being among aliens that still hunted with stone-tipped spears could do that. They could act like gods and often did. But where Gristtl tried to be a benevolent god, guiding the natives and teaching them important lessons, Flixx found fun in stealing things that he did not want from them and poking fun at them. In a way Gristtl thought of the aliens of this world as his children that he never had, but Flixx seemed to think of them as toys to play with. The aliens were sentient, so this was always a point of contention for Gristtl and Flixx. Something would need to be done at some point. But right now, the weerf was dying.

Gristtl wondered just how he could save the weerf. He could hold it nowhere before the sparkling back energy bars would just repel his touch. The weerf sank into his arms. The bars seemed to coalesce on the bottom of the weerf leaving the core of the weerf exposed. It seemed that all of the sparkles sat on top a basket of bars now. Not knowing what else to do, Gristtl put his face to the sparkles and suddenly they sparkled brighter. The sparkles streamed into his eyes and mouth, golden now although Gristtl couldn't see them. Sparkling energy entered him, a trickle at first, then it seemed an ocean-full amount. It coursed through every nerve of his body, all his hairs stood on end. His body convulsed then came back under control.

Gristtl could feel the weerf in him now. The sparkling black bars covered his body. He saw snow falling outside the cave, but didn't feel the numbing cold. He smelled, but not really smelled, or maybe it was heard. But it really wasn't that either. Smelled was probably the best word. He smelled thirteen life energies approaching the cave. Suddenly, he knew it was Flixx and twelve horses.

The weerf seemed to retract into Gristtl.

<> Flixx shouted as he entered the cave.

<> Gristtl replied. <>

<> Flixx replied, smiling, and laughing. <>

To Gristtl it was clear what happened. It was likely that it was the entire herd from a village. Valuable for farming and trading to the aliens. It had to end. As Flixx settled down in front of the heating stove, Gristtl stood up, knowing what to do. He took the reins of the horses and led them out of the cave. It was snowing hard now.

<> Flixx growled as he fed wood into the stove. <>

As he walked out of the door, Gristtl created a cage above the exit and began to glow as the weerf surged over his skin, protecting him from the frigid temperatures. <>

Flixx looked up from the stove turning to look for Gristtl. But Gristtl had already turned down the path, and, truly, no snow was falling. Not wanting to lose his horses, Flixx began following Gristtl.

He ran down the path, then suddenly realized that the snow was falling hard. A sudden chill swept over Flixx and he fell to the ground. Cold was deadly to Voolf. Flixx began turning numb. But there was Gristtl, smiling and laughing. Gristtl picked him up and ran, carrying Flixx back to the cave. Depositing Flixx next to the stove, Gristtl left. A few more cages barred the entrance of the cave. With the food generator that they salvaged from Flixx's yacht, he could survive in that cave until a ride home came. And Flux wouldn't cause any more problems to the aliens here.

Coyote's Last Laugh
June 21, 2000

"You must go, Nathan." Mr. Tsahaszih said, "You have upset too many people. Too many important people. This is the only way."

"But, nobody does that anymore." Nathan replied. "That's something done in the old old days."

"And in extraordinary circumstances, yes?" The old man replied. "This is such a circumstance. The others, they feel that it is the proper thing to do. Perhaps it will make you more responsible. To think before you do."

Mr. Tsahaszih stacked the rest of the wood in the growing pile that Nathan carried. Not knowing what else to do, Nathan followed as Mr. Tsahaszih walked into the night.

The pair, the youth and the old man, worked together to stack the wood, small branches in the middle on the bottom and larger ones around and over it. Mr. Tsahaszih, who had quit smoking two decades ago, produced a new box of matches and tossed one to Nathan.

As the fire grew, Mr. Tsahaszih told Nathan, "As you know, in my youth, I, too was a 'child' of Coyote. My mischief was, of course, nowhere near yours. But then, I am not nearly as clever as you are. The war changed nothing at first, and everything quite rapidly."

Nathan listened, half-expecting Mr. Tsahaszih to tell him a story as he had so many times next to a campfire. Instead, he pointed his arm to the north and lectured, "Cho'olii is in that direction. You should start out soon. There is enough moonlight tonight for you to find The Heart. You will go up to the top of Cho'olii and reflect. The others say that two nights is enough. In my mind, it is not enough. But you decide."

"Do you have a map and a flashlight in the truck? Maybe some food, too." Nathan asked.

"See, you do know how to think ahead." Mr. Tsahaszih chuckled. "Well, despite what everyone thinks about your not thinking ahead, I know that some of your tricks needed to be planned very well to work... But no, you are permitted only your clothes - and that is generous. Give me your valuables. Come now. I'm not going to steal them from you."

With that, Nathan smiled. He trusted the old man more than anyone else, even his parents. Mr. Tsahaszih stood up and Nathan followed suit.

"In my youth, before the war, I did this very thing to be sure that I was able to. You are a smart young man Nathan. I expect you to return. When you do so it will be your turn to tell ME stories." Mr. Tsahaszih said, in the old language. <>

If it wasn't Mr. Tsahaszih, the only man that he respected and listened to, that bid him do so, Nathan would not have walked away into the night.

By dawn he reached the top. Tired but proud of himself for that first accomplishment, Nathan lay down and quickly fell asleep. It was not until night fell that he awoke, hungry and thirsty.

As he walked through the wilderness, Nathan did not realize that he ended upon the mountain. But now he knew. Clear in the moonlight, he saw the bulge in the ridge that was Cho'olii, the heart of the Navajo where Changing Woman was born in the old legends. At first he just lay back down caring not which mountain he was atop. But he knew that he could only be on the mountain that they called Coyote's Laugh. A chill went through his spine. Nathan did not believe or perhaps pretended not to believe any superstitions or old legends that he had heard since childhood. But this seemed more than a coincidence. The only thought that he could think was, (Coyote played a trick on me).

Nathan quickly shoved that thought out of his mind. He was clearly becoming delirious because of lack of food and water. Water, he decided was what he needed to find. In the moonlight, he spotted a shimmer in the distance that had to be a spring or a stream.

But coming through the bushes, when he reached the spot, Nathan saw a bubble-shaped dark metallic thing about the size of a Chevy Nova. It could only be some kind of strange vehicle. And there was someone in it. Nathan could see the back of a man in some kind of jump suit. His arms were moving as if he were fixing something or looking for something.

Remembering his thirst and hunger, Nathan cleared his throat and said," Hello. I was wondering if you had some water..."

The man in the jump suit, obviously startled, jumped out of the vehicle and rolled on the ground. He pointed a strange looking thing that could only be a gun of some sort, but nothing Nathan had ever seen. Yet it matched its owner. For clearly the man in the jump suit was no man like Nathan knew. His face and arms were covered with fur. Triangular tufted ears rose from the top corners of his head rather than the sides. And the slight snout of a nose bore four long thin whiskers on either side.

"Don't shoot, Coyote," Nathan said then he repeated it in Navajo. He held his hands up as he nearly stumbled, still in a malnourished fog and confused.

Coyote - as Nathan thought of him - let out some thin whining noises. Laughter? Then Coyote replied in neither English nor Navajo. "Dajtookorda. Shai ri messatank."

Nathan just stood there, uncomprehending. Maybe Coyote was talking in Pueblo or some other language. Nearly every Native American nation knew of Coyote.

But neither Nathan nor the alien had much time to ponder each other. A streak of light grew and got closer to them. Coyote signaled to Nathan: a hand/paw in front of his mouth, a motion like pushing something downward, and a finger point to the bushes nearby. Nathan understood and ducked into the bushes, being quiet. Coyote disappeared around the vehicle.

When the streak of light was close enough, it was clear that it was another person. This one had some kind of rocket pack on and was using it to descend next to the vehicle. In one hand the rocketman had a Tower Records bag stuffed nearly to the breaking point. In the other, a large metal canister. In the red light of the rocket heat, Nathan could read the words "lamos National L" and the international radioactive hazard symbol.

When rocketman put the bag and canister into the back of the vehicle, Coyote stepped up into the clearing nearby. In one hand was his gun. His body was covered with a meshwork of sparkling black bars that constantly shifted. Coyote spoke to rocketman. "Mahkri ca poris. Depee golo esu vi."

Rocketman turned around to face Coyote and put his hands in the air. "OwoDiphlox."

But rocketman was very quick. A weapon of some sort slid all the way from his shoulder to his palm and fired. The sparkling purple globule hit Coyote square in the chest. But just before he was hit, a cage of sparkling pure blackness floated quickly from Coyote and engulfed rocketman. The cage immediately shrunk from a cube of about five feet to a form fitting cage snug around rocketman. Coyote fell to the ground with a thud.

Nathan ran out of the brush to Coyote, covering the twenty or so yards quickly in a sprint. All of Coyote's jumpsuit and his hair were burned away, making him smell very bad. Much of his skin was charred, too. Coyote was barely breathing. He opened a small quarter-filled canister from Coyote's belt tested the fluid in it and decided it was water. As thirsty as Nathan was, he poured the little water in it down Coyote's throat.

A buzzing noise and small 'pop' broke the silence of the night. Nathan turned to see rocketman's cage shatter. Nathan picked up Coyote's gun and fired, but rocketman had already jumped into the spacecraft and lifted off.

The thin whining laughter signaled that Coyote was awake. Nathan looked as Coyote pressed a few buttons on his wristpad, laughed again, then swooped to the ground. The two watched as the reactor thrust lights of rocketman's vehicle suddenly changed directions. Coyote said, "Yoroog matur faya bo rud... You say, 'crook go big cage.'"

"Ah." Nathan understood. "Coyote played a trick on rocketman."

Coyote laughed again and coughed, frothy blood running down his lips this time. He held Nathan's head, looking directly into his eyes and said, "Kotlores shial... You be cage."

With that Coyote seemingly burned up as sparkling golden energy coursed through his body. The last part of Coyote to disintegrate was his hands.

Then, it seemed like someone - maybe Coyote - put a funnel into Nathan's brain and poured in a few gallons worth of stuff. The stuff coursed through every nerve of his body, first causing them all to fire at once. His body convulsed then came back under control.

In time, the energy seemed to just reside rather than constantly stimulate Nathan's nerves. He began walking back, following the beacon of the campfire made by Mr. Tsahaszih.

When at last he saw the silhouette of the old man standing in front of the fire, all he could do is smile at his mentor, shrug his shoulders, and say," Coyote played a trick on me."

Epilogue
December 22, 2003

Winter in Taos was definitely colder than usual, with much snow. Nathan settled his lift cage to the ground, picking a soft, but shallow snow bank to settle in. He was tired. Digging up avalanche victims was not easy work and his cage powers really weren't very useful for that. They were useful, however, for diverting the avalanche away from even more people. Otherwise he would have still been digging snow. Nathan supposed that carrying rescuers and victims and flying with them around the place was useful, too. All was done now, though. Between the dogs and the paramedics around, everyone who was caught in the avalanche was accounted for and in fairly good condition.

Cage sat on a rock and sighed. Everytime he was called on to use his powers, it seemed that something unusual happened. But nothing this time. It both comforted and bugged him. He got up to walk to the Fire and Rescue Captain in charge.

A sleek-looking metallic gray airplane soared from the north over the Rocky Mountains and began to swoop down into the valley. As Cage walked to the Captain and his staff, it seemed that the plane was homing in on him. So he stopped and turned to face it. He started to activate his personal cage armor. But the airplane pulled out of a bank, lifted its nose, slowed and descended until it crunched the snow and ice on the ground. A man in a business suit climbed down a ladder and looked directly at Cage. Nathan smiled and said, "Let me guess. Coyote sent you?" The man who was walking toward Cage stopped in mid-stride and cocked his head to the left. He resumed walking a second later, saying, "Nathan Yiska, I am David Perkins. I and my employers have been watching you. We are interested in having you join us." Looking at the logo on the airplane, Nathan immediately knew who this Perkins fellow was and why he was here. Funny how he had just seen such an advertisement just this morning. How could he ignore Coyote? He chuckled and said, "Very well, here are my terms..."

When he got 'brain-funneled' by the alien that he calls Coyote, anon-sentient energy beast was fused with Nathan's physical body. The energy beast is an alien symbiotic that gives the handler the ability to make energy cages. The beast, when awakened, allows the handler to see life energy in away that a dog uses acute smells. It also provide the handler with it's own natural abilities of flight, defense, and survival in extreme conditions. Finally, the energy beast can create energy cages in a manner analogous to, but not completely similar to, a spider spinning a web. Different handlers can use the cages in different ways, for example the being Coyote can form a cage that seems almost elastic. On the other hand, Nathan has learned to manipulate the cages to set traps with them so that he can trick his opponents into the traps at opportune times.

Nathan is average in height and build for a Navajo. He wears his hair cropped short and is cleanly shaven. His uniform consists of dirt red almost orange-brown) tights with a pattern of black overlapping bars. On his left chest is his personal logo of a tan and gray coyote head, laughing. He wears a bolo tie and a black leather western style belt with a coyote buckle. When not in uniform, he tends to prefer wearing khaki or forest green shirts, jeans, and calf-high boots, still with the leather belt and bolo tie.