ART updates document Tuesday, September 29-- The Full Moon went up into a perfectly cloudless sky last night, the shyøma-smell was doing what it does and then some. We in our "Hacienda group" were having a sort of anniversary party, it being exactly one year since we'd held our very first Kha-Rat out there in the Mother's Meadow. But this one would prove to be different. It started out normal enough; Nokhon and human guests arriving over the span of a mostly sunny day, Nokhons on foot, humans on foot too, at least into the meadow. Pretty much our usual crowd of regulars as the months before. Adam, Magga and Daklakht were with us, having just returned from Aket a few days before. Snacks and munchies were served. Psilocybin mushrooms were distributed and consumed. Suddenly it's sundown to the West, full moon rising over to the East, everybody horny and happy. And then GOSH-A-ROOTY, kids! everybody's having wildly uninhibited sex with everybody else: business as usual at a kha-rat. So what usually happens next is The Vision, and it does: everybody's zonked out, laid back, entranced. Some kind of "universal mental connection" happens, a light show blossoms in your head and you're somewhere else. You're someONE else! You've just come into the telepathic bulletin board: a freely accesible psychic information/messaging exchange to/from every kha-rat going on anywhere on Earth all at once and can go on for almost an hour, depending upon weather comfort/discomfort conditions. But the POV is of Nokhon mentality with very few familiar points of reference for your standard human beings and is therefore completely confusing to the uninitiated NokhSo person. It takes practice to comprehend what you are seeming to see or hear. This was my 12th experience of a kha-rat vision, so they make sense to me now-- more or less. It's basically like a live news report on the squatch-world situation. or a public announcement, it can be entertainment, like a joke, or even a candidly exposed personal message. It's quite an open format which nobody owns or controls, so it can be anything that an adept telepath can generate. The trick is being an adept telepath-- as are very few people, either Nokhon or human. I'm sure not, nor is Adam, although he's learning to be. Dagrolyt, Daklakht, Masnia all have some ability, but our most talented acquaintance has to be Da-nama-hat, one of the Elders of Aket-- in fact, all three Elders are telepathically potent, which is how they can link up into One Psychic Entity, as they do every day. But the very most powerful telepath in our common experience seems to have been everybody's once arch enemy, Da-starda-hat Himself, now fortunately deceased. He was building up the power to cripple all of human civilization just as Uncle Wallace happened to be in the right place at the right time to shoot the bastard and save us all. This time it's a very young girl's telepathic scream for help, broadcasted at a mind-numbingly high volume. Confusing, unedited, raw images moving fast; out of focus close-ups of frightened Nokhon female faces, apparently being assailed by a rapacious group of white human males wearing black (nazi?) uniforms and ferocious expressions, obviously bad guys busy being bad, committing blatantly nonconsensual rapes and perverse tortures, apparently having gone absolutely amok from the shyøma-saturated atmosphere around them. The difference between the fun sex going on at a peaceful kha-rat and this scene was the inexcusable brutality of the human men, hitting and squeezing and biting the girls in a feral frenzy, jabbing stiff erections into tender female flesh. The sex itself was hardly disturbing to squatches-- comparing one orgy to another --but the deliberate cruelty was unacceptable. Most Nokhon males just don't DO that. Especially shocking were the close-up images of hand-held pistols-- forbidden skesk-noisekillers --aimed directly into the faces of frightened females who lie helplessly bound by steel chains and plastic strips, unable to move or resist as they are being raped. Perhaps to be murdered afterwards? This is clearly happening live, but there's no way to determine where it's taking place or how many persons are involved. It's a shocking scene in real time, so disturbing that many of us pop out of our trances and lose the psychic connection. Others much more practiced at telepathy, like the Sha-hakas among us, manage to maintain contact. Somehow, I am among those still receiving, as are Adam, Masnia, Daklakht and Dagrolyt, who remain entranced while the rest of the crowd are wondering what just happned. But this is a kha-rat and the shyøma is still flowing, so most of the guests get right back to work at profusely copulating. Can't help it, they're driven. But the telepathic bombardment is just beginning: many other Nokhon "voices" join in, responding to those poor females in captivity. Outrage, sympathy, a call to action, condemnations of all humans, many many angry voices, pandemonium, noise upon noise, the vision quickly becoming incomprehensible. Daklakht rises and shouts: "Skogsho!" A command backed by the intrinsic authority of an Alutna-jii, namely Daklakht of Region Aket, "skogsho, ta'ø'e'rah!" He is shouting for everybody to shut up... please. Somehow his telepathic authority cuts through all that babble and there is a sudden psychic silence. I can't explain how that telepathy works, but it's not like watching a TV station or listening to a radio frequency, it's more like one big empty chamber where "messages" can be read/heard, but mixed in with all the other messages, from anywhere in the Nokhon world. It's a clutter of perceptions. I've been told that at present there are little more than three thousand living Nokhons spread out over the entire world, but that's more than enough to be confusing when they all try to talk at once. The typical kha-rat vision is not about sex, being mental rather than physical, more like a school lesson or an online TED Talks. Language, culture, personal histories. A kha-rat vision affects you, changes your perspective. Changes you. I feel that they have improved me: fx, I speak fairly fluent Nokhontli now. So this is not like American TV with commercial interests, this is the Bigfoot Spirit keeping in touch with everybody. This is why all squatches speak the same Nokhontli language all over the planet instead of isolated dialects, as do we humans. There, that's enough self-justification for my being so horny that I could barely stop screwing during an emergency. Anyway, back to that cry for help. It was powerful, but short, then vanished. Responsibly, instead of basking in mindless sex, Daklakht had immediately managed to grab a personal contact with the telepath who sent the message: a young Nokhon female named Maqualama, who seems to have an unusual talent for coherent telepathic messaging, which is not something many squatches-- nor we humans --can do. He learned that she was one of four females taken captive and being held prisoner in a human's multi-bakhl (city), somewhere she could not identify, having never before been in the vicinity of any human settlements, having lived in the wilderness all her life. But she did communicate that their full moon was already sinking toward the horizon, while ours was still ascending into the sky in the Pacific NW, indicating that she must be several time zones to the East of us. Her message was that bad men were mistreating four Nokhon females. Sexually, of course, since the shyøma had to be driving those men mad with lust. Which might have been acceptable behavior to squatch females if it was just normal sex, but those horrible little men had been holding them captive for days and keeping tham chained and gagged while fucking them, then torturing them with cold hard weapons of evil untouchable skesk. Those men seemed to enjoy hurting them, which was such perverse un-Nokhon behavior that the girls did not know what to expect next, and were terrified. Daklakht said he saw a flashing memory-sequence of the females being loaded into what he recognized as a corrugated metal shipping container mounted on a truck, then total darkness inside it for a long time while being transported to somewhere else. The girls were in a constant panic, having never before been in a moving motor vehicle; growling and howling, violently bumping and thumping along some unseen way to some unknown fate. He caught another glimpse of the females being unloaded, coming out of darkness to many bright lights, now surrounded by enormous structures (a city, of course), then taken into a large gray building with many doors and windows, down to long narrow tunnels under the city. There were people around, but they were only more wicked humans, so they did not dare to scream for help. Then there was a cell where they were locked in as well as bound and the lights were turned off... Eventually Maqualama was exhausted and had to sleep, so the contact ended.
After the shyøma had worn off enough to let us think straight again, which put us into the middle of the next day. we had a meeting about the distress call. By dint of long-distance telepathic assistance from the psychically merged Three Elders of Aket, Daklakht was able to reestablish telepathic contact with Maqualama, once she was awake again. (I know, it sounds preposterous, but it seems those Elders do that sort of psychic stuff all the time. Hell, just the merging of three Elders into one governmental entity every day is weird enough for me.) Those captive females couldn't tell us where they were, since they had no points of reference. Nor even a definition of where they came from, their mlønoli reference point being "near the big flat rock", which meant nothing to any of us. Could be in South America for all we knew. Or China. The one question they could answer was: "How could some puny little NokhSos capture four strong Nokhon females?" Maqualama's answer was that "they were many bad men and all had noisekillers pointed at us. One of them shot our male friend Daswachat three times, bang bang bang, just to show us what a noisekiller can do, and he fell down bloody and --I fear-- dead. That scared us so much that we just let them steer us into a big skesk-metal box on skesk-wheels and lock us inside. It all happened so quick." Adam commented, "I've experienced getting shot and I'd be scared too," as he absently touched the wound-spot of white hair in the middle of his furry chest. His souvenir. As Alutna-jii, Daklakht assumed responsibility for a rescue action right away. We all volunteered to help, although no one had any idea of where to start.
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