Can you tell me what a Guado is?
According to the Moonflow English Dictionary, it’s an individual, organism or new genetic character arising or resulting from mutation. According to the newspapers, it’s a super-powered sociopath hell-bent on nothing les than the absolute destruction of the entire human race. The truth, like most things, lies somewhere in the middle. My own definition of that five letter word is just an ordinary person with an extraordinary talent.
Why the Guado look different, and are more in tune with the farplane is impossible to say. Speculation ranges from holes in the ozone layer to nature preparing us for life in the third millennium, but no one really knows the answer. All we know is that these talents make them different and those differences make people nervous in these strange, uncertain times. My name is Cid and as I prepare for an international tour to promote a book I’ve just published, I’ve been asked to write an article which might alleviate your fears. I want to tell you about a group I founded where extraordinary young children are being carefully cultivated.
Personally, I’ve never understood why individuals who exhibit any sort of special abilities are regarded with suspicion when every other form of excellence is lauded by society. Are songwriters persecuted for the power of their lyrics? Are Quarterbacks hounded for the accuracy of their arms?
Wakka, Tidus, Yuna, Lulu, and Kimarhi were playing baseball on a hot summer day. It had been two months since the downfall of Seymour. Supposedly, Cid had killed Seymour, rather gruesomely. Choked him to death is what everyone was saying. While most everyone believed him, including Yevon, the rest of the Al Bhed, and the Guado, Yuna didn’t believe him. Here was this man preaching about humans and the Guado living together peacefully, and he goes and kills Seymour? Yeah right, Yuna thought.
Wakka was the catcher and Kimarhi stepped up to the plate. Lulu bent over getting ready to pitch the ball. Gippal was at second base, and Yuna was in the outfield.
“Miss this and you don’t get near me for a week, Wakka,” Lulu said throwing the ball at high speed towards Kimarhi.
“Kimarhi is truly sorry about this, Wakka, Kimarhi’s friend,” Kimarhi said swinging the bat.
The bat hit the ball with a loud tok, and sent the ball flying.
“Don’t worry about it, Kimarhi. I’ve still got blitzball,” Wakka replied.
Auron was standing under a tree nearby watching them play. He didn’t like being in large groups of people. Tidus threw his arms up in the air with joy, seeing the ball fly away.
Of course, I don’t mean to diminish the biology of the situation when ninety-eight percent of all known Guado seem to dislike humans quite a bit… But aren’t we all slaves of our feelings? After all, some say music runs in families… …and others are clearly born with an aptitude for sport.
Kimarhi dropped the bat and sprinted towards first base, watching the ball soar away. Wakka stood shielding his eyes, from the sun watching Yuna summon Valefor.
“I got it, I got it, I got it…” Yuna shouted.
Lulu turned around seeing Valefor land next to Yuna with a baseball in it’s mouth.
“No way! Powers are supposed to be off-limits! She’s using her aeons!” Lulu shouted. “Have it your way, Yuna!”
Lulu shot more than two dozen hailstones at Yuna, accidentally hitting Kimarhi, Tidus, and Gippal. Auron laughed from underneath his tree.
Are Guado singled out for alienation because their talents can extend from detecting unsents, to summoning fiends? Is their world shaking potential the reason young Guado teenagers only dare communicate through the mail? Dear reader, as I argue at length in my book, this raw power you fear is precisely the reason that these young terrifed Guado must be embraced. Can’t you imagine their potential for good with the proper guidance and teaching? Yuna is a perfect example. When I found her, those formidable summoning powers were so unfocused that she was unable to distinguish between aeons and human beings. Through careful training , her abilities were suppressed, and now, over time, are being gradually reintroduced. Her main area of schoolwork is working with the mentally-ill, but she’s been helping police find three missing persons recently lately, and is reportedly making excellent progress.
Lulu is another young student who has blossomed in the short time she’s been following my program. An illegal black mage with almost no formal schooling, she’s currently in the middle of a joint-diploma in both horticulture and economics. Last week, she used her black magic to reinvigorate a recession-hit farming community and achieved a well-deserved A-plus for applied use of her abilities. Of course, there’s more to education than traditional academics. My syllabus specializes in pop-culture, conversation and the arts of self-defense too. Tidus, for example, might have poor grades, but his leadership skills are exceptional in our virtual reality combat classes. Twice a week, between chemistry and humor, I ask him to utilize these gifts and do something dangerous with groups of under-privileged youngsters. As a orphan himself, I know he appreciatesthe importance of a solid and dependable role model.
When we first found him, Gippal was as traumatized and frightened as any other twenty-five-year-old man would be in his unusual situation…
Gippa opened the door to the women’s locker room in the Monster Arena in the Calm Lands with a smile. Yuna and Lulu looked toward the door and immeadietly pulled their towels up, in fear.
“Oop! Didn’t realize this was the ladies dressing room, girls,” Gippa lsaid turning his head away.
“Once is an accident, Gippal. Three times in a single week is a man asking to be struck by lightning,” Lulu threatened.
But his warm heart and sense of humor have been a source of strength to everyone lately, particularly in the late-night compassion exercises I assigned him. The same holds true for our sensitive and intelligent Wakka. More than anyone, he has a right to despise Yevon for the atrocities which were commited against him. But his passion for research remains undiminished, his latest project being a breathtaking alternative to the expensive pharmaceuticals required in third world countries… …although, I must confess, I do worry about the amount of time my prize student spends working in the airship laboratory sometimes.
But perhaps the development I’m most proud of is how Auron and Kimarhi have reinvented themselves over these last few months. Both strong members of the Gullwings raised in violence and misery, they now spend their evenings scanning newspapers for hard-luck stories and unsolved crimes… …searching Spira from dusk ‘till dawn in search of people who might need their particular kind of help.
Of course, it would be naïve to suggest that the Guado influence is always entirely a positive one. It’s understandable that people are afraid when they see the Guado, or anyone with an unnatural ability. President Deling’s upcoming Seymour bio-pic clearly isn’t going to help matters, nor is Nooj’s popular theory that Guado have it cruelty hardwired into their genes.
“Let me get this straight, you’re saying evolution makes us sophisticated and sophistication just makes us exponentially cruel?” a rotund man with dark skin complexion asked Nooj over the television screen.
All of the Gullwings were watching the program exept for Auron ,Kimarhi, and Cid.
“All the evidence you need is the difference between two wars and a Petri dish full of amoebas, Al. If Guado are just an extension of everything man has brought to the world, I’m not sure that the future is a place I particularly want to live,” Nooj answered.
It’s a very compelling argument… …particularly in light of Seymour’s close circle of Guado and Al Bhed’s re-emergence as a political force and what they did to the Desert District Prison last week.
Seymour’s former lackeys, now know the Brotherhood, was bombing areas all over Earth. Especially, prisons, so as to let the world know how the Guado felt. All the crime, and atrocities committed against them. They wanted to let the world know how it felt.
My students and I might have neutralized Seymour back in Bevelle, but I’m afraid his foster children inherited more than just their father’s views.
“I think you might find Tidus is considering a move back to our side soon, Cid. Did you know he and Brother had a four hour telephone conversation last night?” Barthello asked.
“Yes, but they were talking about a movie, Barthello. Besides, why would he be interested in rejoining you when you’ve so clearly lost your way lately?” Cid countered.
Barthello, Dona, and Cid were attending the grand opening of a art muesem in Bevelle. They all looked rather sharp. Dona was wearing a pink business suit, and Barthello was wearing a green one. Cid had a white long sleeve shirt on, and they were all wearing matching pants.
“I’d hardly describe renewing our assault upon corrupt human power-bases as losing our way, sir. In fact, the current state of confusion in Spira should make replacing the status quo that much easier over the coming weeks and months,” Dona explained.
“And you think bombing the old order will make the human race embrace the Guado as their leaders, Dona? Terrorism might have made sense in your father’s world, but it’s never been less fashionable than it is right now, my dear,” Cid said.
“Oh, what do you suggest we do, Cid? Start outing Guado celebrities like some limp-wristed pressure group?” Barthello asked sarcastically.
“No, clearly your goal of global domination would remain the same, but perhaps you could modernize your tactics a little,” Cid suggested. “I’m not saying I approve of such actions, but why not use you abilities to expose the corruption of these human overlords? Headlines are the ammunition of the information age. Everyone would be on your side if you targeted corporate crime and government incompetence.”
“Well, it’s certainly an interesting concept, Cid…” Barthello said, considering Cid’s idea.
“Actually, I quite liked that idea you had about outing Guado celebrities. Perhaps that’s something we could bring up at tomorrow nights meeting,” Dona suggested. “Wait a minute. You’re not trying to brainwash us are you? Galleries and museums are supposed to be neutral territory, remember?”
“Young lady, you may question my integrity as a gentleman, but please don’t insult me as a lover of the arts,” Cid answered.
Some people ask why we don’t just wage war on the Guado, but that’s such an old-fashioned, imperialistic solution to the problem. As we look around the world today, it’s clear that violence breeds nothing but further violence. Ideas are the only way to change the world and, as a teacher, I feel it’s my responsibility to prove it.
Kimarhi and Cid were in the park together, in Luca, the next day. They were watching the children play, or at least Kimarhi was. Cid was looking at something else.
“I’ve always thought it must take a very special kind of person to work with the severely handicapped,” Cid said out of the blue. “Then again, they say the teachers gain as much from the experience as the children. What do you think, Kimarhi?”
“Kimarhi can’t say he’s given the matter much thought,” Kimarhi answered.
“Do you recognize the gentleman in the tan jacket playing with the little Down’s Syndrome twins over there, young man?” Cid asked, as a butterfly landed on Kimarhi’s shoulder. “Can you tell me where you might have seen his face before?”
Cid was referring to the Guado, playing Frisbee with the two children in the park. He had short blue hair, that sort of looked like Tidus’s hair only longer, and more flowing. He was wearing a tan jacket, with an orange scarf around his neck. It was a little chilly out that day.
“No idea. Real life or on TV?” Kimarhi asked.
“Oh, most definitely real life, my friend. Look a little closer. Focus on the eyes,” Cid advised.
Kimarhi noticed that the Guado had veins bulging out his forehead. It reminded him of Seymour. Then Kimarhi saw his eyes. They were emerald green. There was only one other person he knew who had eyes like that. It was Seymour!
“Is this some kind of sick joke, Cid?” Kimarhi asked, with his eyes wide.
Kimarhi pulled out his lance and got in front Cid, ready to protect him at all costs.
“No, I’m afraid that actually is Seymour playing Frisbee with the children, but you have my word that there’s absolutely nothing to be concerned about, Kimarhi,” Cid answered. “I had the Al Bhed that aren’t allied with the Guado place a microchip in his lower left cerebrum which prevents him from remembering who he is or even how to utilize those world-class talents he was famous for. As far as our old friend is concerned, he’s just an ordinary Guado now and the only human beings he has issues with at the moment are neighbors who play their music too loud.”
“No, this is madness. Seymour died back in Bevelle. You choked him to death and everyone saw it…” Kimarhi said putting his lance away. “Nobody could survive something like that.”
“Think carefully about what you’re saying, Kimarhi. Do you really think I would take the life of a living creature when a peaceful solution presented itself?” Cid asked. “I choked Seymour until he passed out. And then, after you all left, I simply brought him to one of the safehouses, where he was operated on. I wasn’t so badly injured that I couldn’t walk.”
“The public was baying for blood. I couldn’t just hand him over to be hung by his neck in a fiberglass cell,” Cid said. “Post-human problems require post-human solutions, Kimarhi. I teach rehabilitation at my school, not revenge.”
“Kimarhi sorry, Cid. Kimarhi sure you’re intentions were noble, but don’t you think this has the potential to be a very, very bad idea?” Kimarhi asked.
“Why? The man on the streets feels satisfied because the Bogeyman has been removed from his life, and dear, sweet Seymour over there has never been happier,” Cid explained. “He’s living in West City, eating at the local pub and going to the cinema once a week with a single mother who lives in the next apartment building.”
“Once his old issues with homo-sapiens have been resolved, I honestly believe we might be able to remove the blocks and reintroduce him to society once again,” Cid finished with a smile.
Kimarhi rolled his eyes skeptically.
“It is not that Kimarhi don’t appreciate what you’re doing here, sir. Kimarhi just wish you’d keep this stuff to yourself sometimes. Things like rehabilitation are just a little too big to fit into Kimarhi’s head at this point in his education,” Kimarhi said.
“Don’t undersell yourself, Kimarhi. It’s a highly overrated quality,” Cid said.
Just then, a red Frisbee flew in between Kimarhi and Cid and skidded along the ground behind them.
“Sorry about that, folks. Kid’s got a heck of an arm,” Seymour said walking over to get the Frisbee.
“Kimarhi think he’s going to be sick,” Kimarhi said walking towards the Frisbee.
“Pardon me, but do you have the right time? I just broke my second watch this week,” Seymour said, tapping his watch.
“Two thirty five,” Cid answered, as Kimarhi handed Seymour the Frisbee.
“Thanks,” Seymour said. “Listen, I know this might sound crazy, but I really could have sworn I recognized you from across the park, friend…”
“Have you and met somewhere before?” Seymour asked suspiciously.
“No,” Cid answered.
“Oh, well. My mistake,” Seymour said walking back towards the twins. “Have a nice day, sir.”
When I returned home this evening to have our picture taken, Auron asked if he could borrow one of my suits because he wanted to make a good impression in the magazine… Tidus was on the telephone with Brother, laughing about how Lulu had caused a tiny thunderstorm in Gippal’s large intestine for some reason. I must remember to ask about that later.
“He actually drilled a hole in her bedroom wall? You’ve got o be pulling my wire, man. That’s outrageous,” Brother said.
“Hey, Brother! Would you shut up? It’s okay for you, man, but some us are trying to plot our next corporate investigation here!” Baralai exclaimed.
Shortly before I began to finish this article, a Yevon guard called and said they had found the three missing girls precisely where Valefor had shown them. For a moment, I pause and reflect upon Nooj’s idea and wonder if evolution is indeed moving in the wrong direction.
But although man invented torture and cruelty, we must also remember that evolution gave us science and art and empathy as well as upright backs and opposable thumbs. Why should people think the Guado are just a mutation of everything bad about themselves?
Isn’t there a chance that the Guado could also be an evolution of man’s intrinsic capacity for good?
And with that, Cid clicked the send button and logged off of the computer.
“Kind of a bummer, huh, Cid?” Gippal asked coming on to the deck in his pajamas a week later.
“What do you mean, Gippal? About the article?” Cid asked.
“Yeah. How can they say your piece was too pro-Guado and insensitive to all the people who died in the Guado’s terrorist attacks?” Gippal asked. “That’s completely nuts. They just pulped the freakin magazine because you were telling it like it is, sir.”
“Very possibly, Gippal, but I’m afraid that’s nether here nor there anymore…” Cid said trailing off. “Come on. Let’s figure out who you’re going to save today.”
Thanx for reading
Sephistrife15
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