by Jon Saboe
“He wanted you to take this and study it.” He pointed to the scroll, then looked up at Peleg.
“I will return for our studies tomorrow.”
With that he turned, leaving a speechless but thankful Peleg watching his retreating back as he disappeared into the darkening forest.
“I tell you, the strangers have a woman among them!” Pirwano was incredulous, yet adamant. He had been patrolling at the edge of the forest and had watched the deck of the Urbat from a distance. He hadn’t been sure before, but this time, it was definitely a female that had come ashore and been escorted by their captain to a small pool along the coast within the restricted area.
“Why would they travel with a female?” demanded Manu.
“Perhaps they are not explorers, but plan to establish their own colony.” one of the men offered.
Irawaru spoke. “No, she journeys with them for morale. You said that the Captain seemed to have a claim on her?”
“Yes,” breathed Pirwano. “I thought I had noticed her with him several times before, but I could never confirm her gender until now.”
“I see.” Commander Irawaru thought for a while. When he spoke, it was clear that he was about to receive another revelation from Mara’ma. The men all recognized the look and could be sure that a pronouncement would be forthcoming in the morning.
“I shall meditate tonight and discover why Mara’ma has brought this development before us. Perhaps he intends us to remain here longer than we anticipated.”
Irawaru turned and headed towards his own hut. It was centralized among the three ellipses and was slightly larger than the others. Although they referred to him as ‘Commander’, it was never forgotten that in the land of their past, he had been their High Priest.
Mentor Inanna couldn’t have been more satisfied. Her husband’s newfound ambition and stamina had successfully captured the leadership of the Citadel. He seemed to have acquired a vibrant new personality ever since she had nursed him back to health, and his disciples (along with her own students) had removed Reu-Nathor in a No-Confidence vote.
She felt as if she had been a mid-wife for his re-birthing, and looked forward to supporting him, while at the same time, using his elevated status to promote her own theories.
For some strange reason he now wished to be referred to as Dumuzi because, as he explained, he wished to be a great shepherd of the people and serve them selflessly.
He was concluding his first address to the Citadel Congregation, using a powerful new voice which commanded respect and admiration.
“We have overcome our taboos concerning history and look forward to rejoining our past as we seek out our brothers and sisters among the stars—and in our hearts.”
A woman in the audience who had styled her hair and dress to appear more like a Mentor leaned over to her friend and whispered, “What a genius. No wonder he’s High Minister!”
Mentor Salah/Dumuzi concluded. “It is an irony of the cosmos that we discover our future by exploring our past. As we expand our minds and our vision, nothing can ever again be denied to us. Thank you for your love and devotion!”
He bowed amid the cheers and applause. His wife watched the ecstatic crowd, realizing that religious fervor was a superior motivator than fear.
It was time to start applying the methods she had learned from her grandmother.
Chapter 15
Exchange
“Is the life of one man worth the lives of many? Many men will give their lives for that of a woman.”
Kupé resumed their study sessions as if none of the unpleasantness of the previous weeks had ever happened. Together they developed a transformational grammar for their respective languages and also created phonemic symbols as they discovered and recorded allophonic differences.
Kupé also began bringing maps and charts that he had created from memory after arriving here. There were partial coastline diagrams of the land to the east, and some very accurate and detailed moon charts with formulae which would assist Peleg as the Urbat continued its journey to points on the opposite side of the world from where it had begun.
During one session, Kupé requested to return that night to do some astronomical research with Peleg. When he arrived, he was carrying another small scroll.
“Here is a note from Tall Thaxad,” he said.
Peleg opened it and saw that it was written with obscure characters, some of which were deliberately written out of order and upside down, so that neither Kupé nor any of the other islanders would be able to decipher it, if they had opened it and wanted to discover its contents.
He reworked the markings in his head, and silently read:
I am not in any immediate danger now.
However, my captors may become reluctant to release me.
I may need assistance from within or without.
Tell Serug he knows where he can go.
At least the gentle giant had a sense of humor when writing. Thaxad often demanded that Serug be sent to a variety of locations in the Netherworld. His odd, older syntax could seem quaint sometimes.
Peleg thought quickly. Phaxâd had expressed concern for Thaxad’s well being, but they had been assured he was well cared for and was actively involved with his captors, participating in activities and other cultural exchanges. In fact, they had given him introductory instructions on some of their tuned percussion instruments, and were amazed to find someone who had perfect pitch—especially when identifying steps in a forty-three note octave!
He put the message away. He would discuss it with Phaxâd later.
“Is everything all right?” Kupé asked.
“Sure,” Peleg lied. “It’s just a quick note saying he’s doing well.”
Kupé nodded, then produced a small circular object from his waist-pack.
Peleg looked at it, and soon realized it was a calendar, with the path of the earth indicated as it related to the sun and zodiac.
He studied it further and realized it was completely based on the path of the sun. All of the calendars he had ever used were based on phases of the moon, and there was always a great deal of difficulty adjusting them to the solar equivalents needed for navigation. In fact, there were always adjustments that had to be made to insure that planting and harvest seasons corresponded with the appropriate month names.
He looked up at his island friend.
“It is a gift,” Kupé said. “You must take it with you when you leave.”
Peleg looked down at the calculation chart, then looked back to Kupé.
“Thank you, so much. I will study this a great deal.” He paused and reconsidered something before continuing.
“You have been a wonderful teacher,” he admitted. He had arrogantly considered Kupé an uncivilized student when they first met. “I have learned a great deal, and will be forever grateful as our journey continues.”
“It is I who thank you,” replied Kupé. “I have much more to meditate upon, as I await the Atua.” He smiled. “I know you don’t understand, but there is no other explanation for our life, health, and creativity.” He peered meaningfully into Peleg’s eyes. “Such things must come from somewhere,” he stated, connoting great significance.
Peleg thought of Serug, who was back on the ship. He would no doubt ask, “Where’s the source?” Serug had spent his days with Thaxad before his arrest, and now he spent them scavenging the countryside with his friends (within the restricted areas) looking for new and exotic things to eat. Peleg hardly saw him except at mealtimes, or late at night when he was trying to get some sleep.
Peleg looked out into the vastness of space and admitted, “Yes, I suppose it has to come from someplace.”
They stood there silently, peering into the depths of stars and nebulae—the many colors and intensities sparkling overhead. Peleg was always amazed at the two brilliant clouds of stars which he had never witnessed until coming this far south. He had heard of them from visiting astronomers from a southern Dedan outpost who called
them Al’Bakr or ‘White Cows’ in their language. What a dreadful name for these objects of unrestrained beauty. Now he clearly perceived their three-dimensional structure and felt he could reach out and hold them for himself. He was sure that if he strained his eyes, he would somehow be able to see behind them.
Yes, it had to come from someplace.
“We have been called to prolong our occupation of the sanctuary which the Atua have given us.”
Commander Irawaru was speaking in a manner that the men had not heard for a long time. It had been many years since their leader had spoken “from-on-high” as their spiritual head. The men thought nostalgically back to the days when he had been their High Priest—before their banishment.
The facial movements and special pitch in his voice told them they were receiving new truths and special revelations.
“We have known from the beginning that our wait for the Atua might be long, but we have always assumed that it must happen within our lifetimes.”
He surveyed the room, slicing the meeting hut with wide sweeps of his intense eyes.
“This assumption is faulty. It is based on the obvious ‘fact’ that we have no means to procreate and continue our seed so that their promise may be visited on us through our offspring. However, the thoughts of Mara’ma are above our own, and in his wisdom, he has provided what our faith could not.
“Mara’ma has brought a female to our refuge and we now can see what he has intended all along. We are meant to settle this island and create a new people in honor of him. As the greatest of all Atua, he has shown himself worthy, and we must do the same.”
The men listened with rapt attention, absorbing the new divine declaration. Already, the men were each formulating plans to bring this about—everything from a clandestine kidnapping to a full assault on the invaders.
Manu spoke. “We are available to do your bidding. How would Mara’ma have us accomplish this? We are ready and fearless to do our father’s will.”
Irawaru looked at him and smiled.
“This will not involve any force or military action. Mara’ma has already provided the way.”
Thaxad was seated off to the side of the meeting place understanding a great deal more than he let on. He could sense the great change in the room’s attitude, and felt a surge of fear. It all seemed to revolve around this group of lonely men and the fact none had seen a woman in almost forty years.
“Our merciful father has provided us with the tall one,” Irawaru avoided using his name so that Thaxad would not hear the familiar sound of his name surrounded by the unknown speech. “The invaders will not leave without their Chief Chemist. They will gladly hand over their female so that they may continue on their mission with the scientist whom they greatly need.”
The men were impressed and nodded their agreement. There was always much wisdom when Mara’ma spoke.
Kupé held some minor reservations within his heart. He had tried to explain to his unbelieving friend how spirituality gives a moral basis, providing a foundation for right and wrong. Now they were considering going back on the contract to which they had agreed. He glanced over to Thaxad. He would have no idea what was occurring. Where was the truth for this occasion?
Irawaru concluded, as if he had heard Kupé’s thoughts. “We have been called to a higher truth. The Atua have planned this from the beginning, and the non-believers are simply unwitting players in their divine plans.”
If any of the other men had reservations, they were now completely dispelled.
Thaxad had seen Kupé’s look, and had quickly masked his face so that no one would suspect he understood anything.
He must find a way to get one more message to the Captain.
The crops had been harvested and the food and supplies had been prepared for storage. The vital task of creating kash-rum from some of the unusual grains had been successful. The Urbat would be under sail within two days as last minute preparations were underway.
Kupé had arrived that morning, appearing very agitated, but refusing to explain. He simply informed them that a regiment was on its way concerning Thaxad, and soon they would say their farewells.
Captain Phaxâd joined Peleg and Kupé on the beach, awaiting the return of Thaxad. Peleg had presented the note to the Captain, but there was little that could be done. A few men had traveled around the island one night to try and locate Irawaru’s settlement, and Phaxâd was sure they could approach and surround it if need be.
Eventually, a group of men emerged from the forest, led by Commander Irawaru and Manu.
Thaxad was not among them, and Peleg and Phaxâd were alarmed to see that the men were armed. Kupé turned to Peleg and said regretfully, “I wish it did not have to be this way.” He then walked towards Irawaru who led his men in front of the waiting captain.
Kupé turned to Peleg and said, “Our Commander wishes to speak directly to your Captain. We must simply provide a pure translation.”
Commander Irawaru turned to face Captain Phaxâd and said, “Mara’ma, the great god of the moon, has decreed that we retain your female in exchange for the graciousness and hospitality we have shown. You leave our land with your holds full of our grain, wood, and fowl, and you have refreshed yourselves with our resources these many months.”
Peleg’s eyes fastened on Kupé in alarm as they worked out the translation.
Irawaru continued.
“We are certain that you will understand the necessity of our request, as we have no ability for offspring. Mara’ma has guided you and now provides for us the means.
“Since you claim to have no plans for colonization, the female cargo is a small price to pay for all we have bequeathed to you.
“We will take her now. Your chief chemist, Tall Thaxad, will be returned immediately. You will then be free to go with our blessing.”
Peleg relayed the translated demand while his eyes bored into Kupé with revulsion and disbelief.
Phaxâd waited patiently for the completion of the translation, then responded.
“That woman, whom you call female cargo, is my wife! She is not available for any price or negotiation.
“Our contract permitted you to confine Thaxad, and we have allowed it. Now you must honor your agreement and return him immediately.”
Irawaru was unmoved. “I understand the value of a female among men on a lengthy voyage such as yours. I am sure that when you return to your homes, you will no doubt be honored with many wives.
“Our demands are unchanged. We will have the female, and she will allow the promises of the Atua to be visited upon our children.We shall create a great people in this land, in honor of Mara’ma.”
Throughout this exchange, while Peleg and Kupé worked hard to get the translations correct, they tried to communicate their own anguish at being placed in this position.
Using the specialized argot they had developed for themselves, they managed a truncated dialog between themselves at the same time they were constructing the translation for their superiors.
Kupé said, “I regret this situation. Mara’ma has spoken.”
“So much for a spiritual basis for right and wrong,” Peleg managed tersely.
“Thaxad has sent a message.”
“Yes?”
“He says you must reverse his earlier message without reservation and not to worry.”
Captain Phaxâd’s response came to a close and they resumed their rendering.
“I and the Urbat will negotiate no further. If you are concerned about your progeny, then you should have built boats long ago and returned to civilization—where you would doubtless find many who would assist you.
“We, also, would be happy to assist you in building boats. Your exile is self-imposed.”
Commander Irawaru drew himself up, offended. “We remain until Mara’ma, himself, descends! Our reward is forfeit should we leave this place. He saved and provided for us and we will not turn our backs on him now!”
He assumed a posture
of finality.
“We shall return for your female tomorrow. When she is safely in our camp, we shall release Tall Thaxad and return him to you.
“If she does not arrive at our camp, those who wait for her will be ordered to execute Tall Thaxad. Any attempt to rescue him or assist his escape will result in his immediate death.
“And finally, we have cordoned off this perimeter and shall allow no passage. Any attempt to harm or dissuade any of my men will result in the death of Tall Thaxad.
“I shall return here tomorrow morning for your answer.”
With that he spun on his heals and signaled his men to follow.
Kupé gave Peleg one last look. It said, Don’t think badly of me.
As they positioned the sentries who were to remain, Manu spoke quietly with Irawaru.
“Commander,” he asked carefully. “We have given them no way out. They may feel they have nothing to lose and attack with abandon. Their mission cannot continue without their chemist.”
“Exactly,” Irawaru agreed. “They will no more continue without their chemist than without their navigator. They also will not risk his death.”
He nodded with assurance.
“The female will be handed to us tomorrow. They have no choice, and it is a small price to pay. They will realize it.”
The remaining men continued to their settlement, praising Mara’ma for his provision and the opportunity to demonstrate his power to these invaders. Their original sins had provided the hostage, and now he who had known these events beforehand had orchestrated them together for their future prominence among all people.
“Nothing can prevent the will of Mara’ma.”
“I don’t know,” Peleg confessed. “He said to reverse his message.”
Captain Phaxâd was angry and irritated. Not a pleasant combination.