Ice Giants Wake!

by Gary J. Davies

  "That all sounds viable and worthwhile," agreed Doc. "I want these people to get recognition for their amazing ancient roots, but I never bought into the Stone-Coat myth. I always figured it was a myth designed in the distant past to help keep their leaders in power, just like a lot of other myths held world-wide are. The required science involved for giants to sleep for centuries inside of boulders and mountains is simply impossible. Let's prove that to these people and try to save them. Yours is a good plan."

  "Belief in myths is too deep to eradicate from a culture overnight," Jack cautioned, "but I suppose we can at least give them a good push in that direction. We should be able to make your plan work."

  "Except for one tiny thing," said Mary. "What if their myths aren't simply something made up by their religious leaders to keep themselves in power? What if there actually are Stone-Coat Giants?"

  "Not a chance," said Ed.

  ****

  "I'm John Running Bear, special envoy for the National Congress of American Indians," the visitor announced, as he sat across a small table from Tribe Chief Mike Talking Bear and Mouse, Leader of the Elder Council of Mothers. "I am here to urge your participation in NCAI supported events. This Monday is Indigenous People's Day for America. The NCAI again urges that you join us in celebrating this day, and also urges that next summer you also celebrate the International Day of the World's Indigenous People established by the United Nations. I hope to stay here through Monday to help you organize your participation."

  "We were informed of your visit by the Embassy of Tribal Nations in Washington," said Chief Mike. "We of course told them again that we have no interest in such events. Let the white men celebrate their Columbus Day in peace next Monday if they wish to. It and your counter-celebration on that same day mean nothing to us. Our views on this have been made clear to your organization many times. Yet here you are, only a few days prior to the holiday in question, making an obviously fruitless attempt to change our minds practically overnight. That is foolish.

  "I am even more concerned that I met you several years ago at the Oneida Turning Stone Casino," continued Talking Bear. "Then your name was not Running Bear, and you claimed to be Tuscaroran. Your lies perhaps fooled the Oneida, but not me."

  Running Bear certainly hadn't realized that he had previously met the chief of this reclusive Mohawk tribe. Chief Mike Talking Bear must not have been publicly advertising his own real identity.

  "You spoke truth to us now but not the whole truth, Mohican," said Mouse sternly. "Tell us fully and truthfully why you are here."

  The rattled Running Bear hadn't yet mentioned his true tribal affiliation. "Please forgive my deceptions. When we apparently met years ago I was scouting out the Oneida casino to understand if there were lessons to be applied to our plans to establish a Mohican casino in New York State. True, I work for many masters, and have sometimes avoided telling the full truth in order to do so. Although I do in fact work at the behest of my tribe for the NCAI, I do now confess that is not why I am here today."

  "We do not have time for games and have no casino here," said Mouse. "Tell us now about your other employer and why you are really here. Tell us what the NSA wants with the Mohawk."

  They knew that he was a NSA agent! Running Bear had heard stories about Mouse of Giants' Rest. It was rumored that she could read thoughts. Now he realized that those reports must surely be true, and that it was not possible to lie to these people. "Yes, I work for branch of the US Government Agency known as the NSA that tracks down and nullifies bio-terrorists. They search for a highly wanted fugitive known as Jerry Green, who was in the past a neighbor to Ed and Mary Rumsfeld. The Rumsfelds recently moved to this reservation. I was assigned to come here and look for Jerry Green."

  "You did not need to use deceit to do so," admonished Chief Mike. "You seek a fugitive white man. We have well established FBI links that could have been used to determine if Jerry Green is here. Why weren't those used?"

  "The NSA likes to do things for themselves," Running Bear explained truthfully. "The NCAI likes to monitor and when possible limit NSA intrusions into Native American affairs. I have gained enough trust in the NSA organization to be involved in most such intrusions and to limit them. In this instance I strive to limit their intrusion into the affairs of your tribe."

  "You are a Native American 'mole' in the NSA," said Mouse, smiling. "You should have simply said so."

  "Jerry Green is not here now and never has been here," said Chief Mike. "Ed and Mary are here and under our scrutiny and protection."

  "I thank you for that information, but there is one more area of NSA concern," said Running Bear. "What do you know of the jants?"

  "We are told that the jants were created by Jerry Green," said Mouse. "Jants were brought here by Ed Rumsfeld, though he did not do so with malice. They saved his life and he owes them a degree of loyalty, but even he does not fully trust them. We are concerned that the jants invade our homelands and have great intelligence but do not share their intentions with us, at least not yet. Are not your NSA employers similarly concerned? We sense that far beyond our Mountain countless jants abound. They broadcast powerful cyphered thoughts to communicate with each other and to think together as one great mind."

  This startled Running Bear. How could insects possibly have intentions? They were intelligent and telepathic? In what sense did they think together? Sheffield had hinted at possible intelligence, but could it actually be true? They were so strongly telepathic that even here on their remote reservation the Mohawk could sense that jants were widespread? He would have to somehow tell Sheffield what he had learned, without entangling the Mohawk in it. "The NSA is very concerned about all invasive species," he at last mumbled.

  "Tell us about your boss Dr. Sheffield," Mouse said.

  Crap! She truly was reading his thoughts! "Dr. Sheffield is one of the most sensible people in the NSA. I was drawn to working with him because of this. I believe that he has a good heart. As the climate crisis deepens the NSA infringes ever more on the rights of all peoples, including Native Americans. My NCAI mission is to influence the NSA through Sheffield, in favor of the Native American tribes. I seek to limit NSA prying into Native American affairs."

  "We share a common interest on that point," noted Chief Mike. "We seem to also share common concerns about the jants. Perhaps these are areas we could pursue to our mutual benefit?"

  "That sounds interesting," said Running Bear. "I think that Dr. Sheffield would agree with sharing jant knowledge. It will have to be done with great care, however."

  "In return you must see to it that the NSA stays out of our Tribe business," said Mouse. "Specifically stay away from our Mountain and from Ed and Mary."

  "The only NSA interest in Ed and Mary Rumsfeld is to find Jerry Green," said Running Bear. That was true, as far as he knew.

  "Ed doesn't know where Green is, but the jants might," said Mouse. "If we find out where he is we will tell you personally."

  "Excellent!" agreed Running Bear.

  Running Bear then told them what he knew about the jants, which wasn't really anything more than they already knew. But that was alright, their main concern was to deter prying by the NSA, and hopefully they had done that. And if they hadn't, at least now they were alerted to the threat of NSA meddling.

  Running Bear had in turn obtained Mohawk confirmation that jants were sentient and telepathic; something that Sheffield would hopefully be thrilled with.

  "May I stay here the night to rest before returning to Washington?" Running Bear asked his hosts. "The drive here was horrendous!"

  "That won't be necessary," Chief Mike replied. "We happen to have trucks that are leaving Giants' Rest right away. They will deliver mail to a nearby town and return with mail and supplies. Our men will be able to drive you off of the Reservation immediately. There is heavy snow forecast that could otherwise strand you here indefinitely. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

  "Of course not," replied Running Bear.


  Only when he was many miles from Giants' Rest did Running Bear allow himself to think freely about his encounter. He had achieved considerable success but had fallen far short of total triumph. In the end they had firmly booted him off of their reservation. They were obviously hiding something, but probably not Jerry Green.

  He would need to convince Sheffield to keep him on this case as the ongoing NSA interface with the Tribe. He would keep secret their pledge to possibly provide the location of Jerry Green. If Sheffield's hard-ass boss caught wind of a strong lead concerning Jerry Green he would probably flood the Mohawk Reservation with agents, regardless of laws and treaties. In fact, to avoid an NSA invasion of the Reservation, he should not reveal the presence of jants on the Reservation to even Sheffield.

  What were these Mohawk hiding? He simply had to know! Did it relate to the Stone-Coat myth? He had meant to bring up the subject but hadn't. Why not? He now suspected that he had been subtly manipulated as he spoke with the Mohawk. He had been altogether too cooperative with them!

  Or could they be lying about Jerry Green? Could they be hiding Green somewhere on the Reservation? In any case he had to prevent the NSA from assigning more agents! He had to reassure Sheffield that he was personally confirming that Green was not hiding on the Reservation.

  It irked him that white men O'Brien and Rumsfeld were allowed to be on the Mohawk reservation to learn Mohawk secrets while he was shut out. He had to get onto the Reservation, both to confirm that Jerry Green was not there and to find out what other secrets the Mohawks held from him! Since the Keepers of the Eastern Gate had shut their front door in his face, he would need to use the back door. Fortunately he had already researched other Reservation entry points and found a back door. Cautious man that he was, he never entered a place without knowing of back doors.

  ****

  Ed, Mary, Jack and Doc fretted and talked for hours about what was to happen to them the next day before at last attempting sleep. Morning came all too soon, and after eating acorn mush it was time for them to set off. When they later returned to their lodge they would themselves officially be Mohawk!

  It was a cold, crisp morning, and dark clouds promising snow gathered ominously overhead as Ed led the four inductees to the Great Lodge of Turtle Man. Ed's new owl companion flew overhead from tree to tree, occasionally hooting as it watched over them. This was Mary's first hike to the Great Lodge, and she was as excited as Ed had been to discover the great wood piles, trees, and boulders that adorned the Mountain foothills. Even with winter coming this was a place of great natural beauty. He led them quickly past the spooky Hairless Bear boulder however, as they were rushed for time.

  Ed wasn't surprised when Talking Owl and her father Chief Talking Bear greeted them outside the Great Lodge; besides telepathy their progress towards the Lodge was made evident by the hooting owl that accompanied them. Both of the Mohawk were ornately adorned in colorful near-traditional clothing that made Ed and his friends feel drab by comparison.

  That was soon remedied. In one of longhouses adjoining the central dome of Turtle Man, each of the inductees was led to a separate room where they were stripped and dressed in traditional Mohawk clothing. Mary was thrilled with her soft leather dress adorned with patches, beads, and other colorful do-dads.

  The men were less pleased, but they stoically endured their own transformations with few complaints until they were returned to the lodge common room where a waiting crew of Mohawk women insisted that all facial hair be shaven from hairy-faced Jack and Doc. The two hairy men nearly rebelled at that point. "I've had this beard for over twenty years," Doc complained.

  "You will be permitted to grow it back after the ceremony," explained White Cloud, Chief Mike's handsome young administrative assistant. "Your face must not be hidden when you make your Tribal vows. The Elder Mothers wanted your facial hair plucked out, but Mouse interceded on your behalf such that they finally decided that to merely shave it off would be satisfactory."

  "Remember the alternative to this ceremony, gentlemen!" Ed reminded them. He mimed the slitting of his throat to make sure that his remark was understood.

  "OK then; lucky us!" Doc conceded, as he finally allowed the troop of giggling women to attack him with safety razors. "At least they aren't shaving the tops of our heads, though that wouldn't have been a big job in my case, as almost all my hair is on my face."

  "And the shave is free!" observed Jack, as the women dabbed his beard and moustache with some sort of gel and shaved them off. "Excellent price for a good shave!"

  "True; it's hard to beat free!" agreed Ed.

  "Well I'll be damned!" proclaimed Doc cheerfully, after they finished shaving him. "My face doesn't itch anymore! Who-da-thunk-it! And I won't have to wash the soup and other gummy stuff out of it after I eat!"

  "We both look ten years younger too!" noted Jack, as he studied his hairless face in a small mirror supplied by the women. "Maybe this shaving business is alright!"

  "You'll miss that face hair when the winter cold sets in," predicted Ed, "but then you can't have everything."

  "Almost time for the ceremony to start," noted White Cloud. "I'll see how Mary is coming." He excused himself and returned shortly along with Chief Mike. Between the Tribally adorned men strode the widely grinning Mary Rumsfeld, Mohawk version.

  "Holy Moses!" Ed proclaimed, when he caught sight of his transformed wife. "You're an Indian Princess!" he told her, as he greeted her with an energetic hug.

  "Then you must be my Indian warrior," she replied, smiling.

  "He will be shortly," agreed the Chief. "Now we are to all gather outside the Dome of Elders and begin the proceedings."

  "Exactly what will we have to do?" asked Ed, who always worried about doing the right thing during ceremonies.

  "Follow my lead and do what I tell you to do," reassured Chief Mike. "Generally speaking all that you will need to do is answer our questions affirmatively. Remember that 'hen' is the Mohawk word for 'yes' and use it often. Otherwise we'll all mostly use English. We have made things so simple that even a white man should be able to do it."

  Ed remained apprehensive, but hand in hand with Mary, he and the other inductees followed Chief Mike outside where an astonishing sight greeted them. The natural mountainside amphitheater outlined on two sides by the Great Lodge was filled to the brim with witnesses to the commencing ceremony. Nearest to them stood old Turtle Man, propped up on each side by Mouse and Talking Owl. Behind and around them stood several rows of Tribal Elders, perhaps a hundred of them, mostly women. All were dressed as elaborately as the chiefs. Most were smiling.

  In the very front row Ed noticed Singing Moon, who was definitely not smiling. She was scowling, as usual. Oh well, you can't always please everyone, he figured, and Singing Moon was evidently one of those unhappy people that couldn't be pleased any of the time.

  The men each wore one to three large feathers in their hair, Ed also noticed. Eagle feathers?

  "TURKEY FEATHERS," Mouse replied to Ed's unspoken question. "NO EAGLES WERE HARMED IN PREPARATION FOR YOUR CEREMONY. LIKE YOUR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, WE APPRECIATE AND HONOR THE TURKEY ABOVE EVEN THE EAGLE. THEY ARE FATTER AND TASTE BETTER."

  The inductees were most astonished to note that beyond the Tribe Elders dozens of black and grizzly bears quietly stood on four clawed feet, while beside them lounged a couple of dozen grey wolves and an equal number of coyotes. All stared attentively at the inductees as if they were sizing up a meal. Behind them stood row after row of Mohawk men, women, and children: probably the entire tribe, from the look of it!

  "But grizzlies and grey wolves are extinct in New York!" Doc muttered.

  "Not in and around Mohawk County," Chief Talking Bear explained. "Bear and Wolf clans would not be complete without actual bears and wolves." He waved one of his hands at the bears and they all reared up on their hind legs and growled in response. White Cloud waved similarly to the wolves and they raised their heads and howled. As they did, dozens of
hawks, eagles, and owls circling overhead screamed and screeched, and thousands of the gathered Mohawk shouted in delight!

  "TOO COLD FOR TURTLES," added Turtle Man silently. "I REPRESENT THE TURTLES. WE ARE NOT AS IMPRESSIVE AS BEARS AND WOLVES ANYWAY."

  "We need proceed quickly with the ceremony however, lest our guests eat each other and the Tribe," Talking Bear added. From somewhere in the crowd drums began to softly and rhythmically beat, soon accompanied by rattles, softly chanting voices, and occasional growling and howling. Holding his head high, the Chief marched in time with the drums and led the inductees to stand near Turtle Man and his supporters.

  White Cloud produced a folder of papers which he handed to Talking Bear, and the Chief opened it and turned to face the inductees.

  "Do each of you wish to become Kanien'kehaka?'" he shouted aloud so that all those gathered could hear.

  "Hen!" they shouted back, just as Ed belatedly realized that the Chief had forgotten to tell them the Mohawk words for any other possible response. Or perhaps 'no' was simply not an option.

  "Do each of you pledge to ally yourself with your Tribe and your Clan above all other alliances?" he asked the inductees.

  "Hen!" Ed and the others responded loudly, though they couldn't help thinking of chickens when they did so. This is exactly what they expected to pledge. Ed was encouraged that they were getting right into the thick of the ceremony so quickly. He never particularly liked ceremonies of any sort.

  "Do you pledge your lives to guard Tribe secrets from outsiders, and to honor Tribe traditions and practices?"

  "Hen," the inductees again promised, this being pretty much the other thing that the inductees expected.