Diffusion

by Stan C. Smith

  “Yes,” Quentin said. Its conversation is getting better too.

  Quentin turned away, uncomfortable with the thing looking directly at him. He considered this news about Addison. He’d expected the last moments before leaving this place would produce second-guessing. But he’d been through it all a hundred times in the night, and had grown weary of useless analysis. Now Addison was too far away for the Lamotelokhai to sense him, and this made things easier.

  Quentin turned to Lindsey. She had heard the Lamotelokhai’s words and appeared to be barely suppressing tears. Quentin chose to say nothing about it. “We should go,” he said.

  Lindsey wiped one eye with her palm, and then she nodded slightly.

  It was time.

  With Sinanie guiding them, it took only a few hours to reach the same rusty-brown river where Quentin had washed the blood from his ankle days before. Brilliant sunlight filled the gap in the canopy where the river flowed. Quentin’s eyes were long adjusted to shadow, and the river was like a tunnel of luminescence cut through the forest’s gloom.

  “Méanmaél,” Sinanie said, pointing to the river. Samuel explained that this meant ‘the world sea,’ which was a body of water leading to the end of the world.

  They stopped at the path flanking the river. The plan was to follow the river downstream until they encountered another village. According to Samuel, this could take at least three days of walking, made difficult by treacherously muddy slopes.

  But everyone seemed strong, even Bobby, who still had not slept. Among them there were no wounds, no disease, and no insect bites. The flies kept their distance, hanging in clouds above as if an invisible barrier held them at bay. In spite of the stifling heat, Quentin felt relatively cool. He began to let himself believe they could make it to civilization.

  Sinanie told them, through Samuel, that he would leave them here at the river’s edge. He then spoke one last time to the Lamotelokhai. “Lamol mano-mano-po-dakhu-fekho.” 46

  The Lamotelokhai gazed at him without responding. Quentin shot a glance at Samuel, but Samuel didn’t offer to translate.

  Despite the devastating blow that had been dealt to his tribe, Sinanie seemed to be at peace. After learning that the Lamotelokhai could reincarnate living people, Bobby had suggested that it bring back the villagers Addison had slaughtered. But the Papuans refused this, claiming that such an act would defy the obligatory fate of their companions.

  Sinanie turned to Quentin and said, “Nggulun, nun e khelép-té. Wolakholol be-lembu-té-n-da.” He then spoke to Lindsey, Carlos, and Ashley—a different phrase for each of them. When he faced Bobby, he said, “Khofé mano-pelu-m-é-o. Ge imo lalé. Lamol mano-mano-po-dakhu-fekho.” As he spoke, Sinanie pointed to Bobby’s eyes and then indicated the entire world with a sweep of his hand. Quentin sensed that Bobby was being told what he should do with his ability to see.47

  And finally Sinanie spoke to Samuel, slowly and deliberately. “Samuel. Go now. Remember.” Sinanie then put his hand on his own chest. “We remember Samuel.”

  Samuel straightened his shoulders. “Yes, I will remember. Nggé, nu lenggile-lé-dakhu. Nu gelilfo.”48

  “Gekhené ané kha-mén-é,” Sinanie replied. And then he turned back toward his hanging village. They watched after him as he disappeared into the foliage and shadows.49

  Samuel shook his head. “I fear the fate of the indigenes is uncertain.” He eyed the Lamotelokhai. “We are taking that which has shaped their existence for centuries.”

  The thing stared blankly at Samuel.

  “And now,” Samuel said, “I wonder what will become of civilized men.”

  The Lamotelokhai spoke. “Samuel, you are afraid. Why?”

  Before Samuel could answer, Lindsey said, “I’ll tell you why he’s afraid. Because we don’t know what you are. We don’t know your intentions.”

  The figure tried to smile, perhaps for the first time. “I have no intentions. I am a gift.”

  “A gift from who?” Lindsey asked.

  “From those who created me.”

  “Who are they?” Lindsey said. “What do they want?”

  “It is likely they are dead. They do not want.”

  After a moment of silence, Quentin asked, “A gift of what?”

  The figure smiled again. This time it was a confident, warm smile. “A gift of what they knew.”

  “Do you have any intentions of hurting us?” Lindsey asked.

  “I have no intentions,” it repeated.

  “My fear,” Quentin said, “is that you might be used badly, perhaps to do harm. And you could change our civilization. Some people won’t like that.”

  Suddenly Bobby spoke up. “Diffusion. You taught us about that, Mr. Darnell. You’re afraid of cultural diffusion.”

  Quentin frowned. He hadn’t thought of it quite that way.

  Bobby addressed the Lamotelokhai. “Diffusion is what happens when different types of people meet and change each other. The Papuans changed when other people came here. It just happens.”

  “Yes,” the Addison replica said. “I was created to share what my creators knew. It is likely this will change you.”

  Quentin considered this. Bobby had come to his conclusion about diffusion because he had accepted from the start that this thing was an alien intelligence—something bigger than the human species. Nearly all his life, Quentin’s views had been forged by the tragedy following his parents’ careless actions. And that was a mistake made on such a very small scale.

  A shadowy dread that had been lurking in the back of Quentin’s mind began to expand.

  Samuel adjusted the bag of food that hung from his shoulder. “Since there is little will among us to prevent this diffusion, may I suggest we continue our journey?”

  The seven figures made their way along the river. Eventually conversations stopped, and the only distraction was occasional rustling above them as three tree kangaroos moved through the canopy, keeping pace.

  Guide to the Dialogue of Sinanie’s Papuan Tribe

  First, I must say that I have the deepest respect for the unique cultures of the Papuan peoples. Obviously I have taken liberties with developing the characteristics of Sinanie’s tribe, but I intended no disrespect by doing so.

  I adapted this language from the amazing work of Gerrit J. van Enk and Lourens de Vries in their studies of the language and culture of the Korowai, a Papuan community of treehouse dwellers of southern Irian Jaya (now called Papua). Astoundingly, the Korowai had never come into contact with outsiders until the early 1980s. Each word or phrase is referenced by number in the text of the novel.

  Méanmaél (the world-sea, a body of water leading to the end of the world)

  Kembalimo (This is the name of the online problem-solving language game that Bobby and Addison play. It also means to return in the language of Sinanie’s tribe.)

  Gu mbakha-to-fosu le-bo? Mba-mbam? (Where have you come from? Children?)

  Walukh, khomilo? (Sick, dead?)

  Yu le khomilo-mbo. Khomilo. (He begins to die. Dead.)

  Gu mbakha-to-fosu le-bo? (Where have you come from?)

  Nu pesau im-le. Pesua. (I saw the plane. Plane.)

  Friend, gu spirit lai-ati-bo-dakhu. Lele-mbol-e-kho-lo? Laleo? Spirit. (Friend, are you coming as a spirit? How are you coming?)

  Mbakha lekhen, Jesus? Laleo khop. (What reason—why Jesus? Bad spirit there.)

  Gu laleo-lu de-te-dakhu, Jesus. (You are a spirit for sure, Jesus.)

  Gu mbakha-lekhe wa-mol-mo, dodepa-le Lindsey? Lindsey gekhene mbakha mo-mba-te? (Why do you do that, call Lindsey? Lindsey what are you doing?)

  Yu Khentelo! Yu beben! (He angry! He strong!)

  Yu khentelo tekhen. Khedi belen. Khedi belen. (He angry for a reason. Do not kill. Do not kill.)

  Ané kha-fen. (Let us go.) Ané lai-m! (You must come!)

  I mbakha? Yu le khomilo-mbo. Ané lai-m. (What is this? He begins to die. You must come.)
/>   Laléo-khén! Laléo! (Angry spirit! Spirit!)

  Fano! Mbolop manop. (No! The tree kangaroo is good.)

  I mbakha? (What is this?)

  Soyabu (local word for the dorcopsis wallaby used for food)

  Kembakhi live in the lepun melun. (Aggressive ants live in the leaf stem gall bladder.)

  Anggufa diabo? (Why – to know? Or: How can you know this?)

  Nu khomile-lé-dakhu khosü kha-lé. But I’m better now. Khi-telo. (I died and went there – to the place of the dead. But I’m better now. Healthy-be.)

  Khosükhop, khaim. (There, tree house.)

  Yebun (rope ladder)

  Hey n-até-o. (Greetings, my father – a term of respect from a young Papuan to an unrelated man)

  Gu laléo-lu. (You bad spirit)

  Senggile-lé. (Be frightened)

  Yanop khomile-lé-dakhu (People will die. Or: I will kill them)

  Gekhené pesua im-le (You saw the plane.)

  Nu lefaf! Yu be-khomilo-n-din-da. Ya nokhu wola-maman-é. Nokhu solditai imoné khomilo. (I am finished! He cannot die. Yes, as for us, the end of the world is there. We begin to die now.)

  Noadi, gu mbakha-lekhé wa-mol-mo? (Noadi, why do you do this?)

  Nu if-e-kha misafi gup-tekhé fédo-p. Nokhu-yanop-tu (I want to give these things to you. It is our people.)

  Nokhu-yanop-tu. Wolakholol lembu-té-n-da (It is our people. The world will get out of order.)

  Yu nggulun. Yu manop. Gu di mbolombolop (He is a teacher. He is good. You tell our ancestors.)

  Maf lebil lefu-manda (Picture tooth no more. Or: This is the last picture tooth.)

  Ané kha-fén! Nokhu ima-fon khüp Lamotelokhai! (Let us go! We wish to see the Lamotelokhai!)

  Nu khén-telo! Gekhené pesua im-le! (I am becoming angry! You saw the plane!)

  Mbakha-leké mbolop? (Why are you with the mbolop? Or: What reason the mbolop?)

  Yu nggulun! (He is a teacher! Or: He is a communicator!)

  Khofé mbakha mo-mba-té? (Youngster, what are you doing?)

  Walukh, Joamba. (Sick, Joamba.)

  Nu be-khomilo-n-din-da. Nu khén-telo! (It is impossible for me to die. I am becoming angry!)

  Gekhené khup lefu. Gekhené wola-maman-é. (Your time has ended. Your universe is now out of order. Or: Your world is ended.)

  It has your keliokhmo. (It has gathered together knowledge of you.)

  You did not like the khofémanop, Addison. (You did not like the boy (son), Addison.)

  Ya nokhu wola-maman-é. Nokhu solditai imoné khomilo. (Yes, as for us, the end of the world is there. We begin to die now.)

  Yu khokhukh-telo-dakhu dialun. (He is strong and clever.)

  I le-ba-lé ye-mén! (Come here, to this side!)

  Gu nu u-ngga-lekhén-ma-té. (You want to kill me.)

  Manda-é. Yu lé khomilo-mbo iMoné. (No. He is going to die now.)

  Lamol mano-mano-po-dakhu-fekho. (Set the world right. Or: Make the world good.)

  Nggulun, nun e khelép-té. Wolakholol be-lembu-té-n-da. (Teacher, it is clear to me. The world will not get out of order.)

  Khofé mano-pelu-m-é-o. Ge imo lalé. Lamol mano-mano-po-dakhu-fekho. (Boy, grow well. You see greatest. Make the world good.)

  Nggé, nu lenggile-lé-dakhu. Nu gelilfo. (Friend, I am frightened. I am going away.)

  Gekhené ané kha-mén-é. (You can now go home.)

  Nggé, gu mbakha-to-fosü le-bo? (Friend, Where have you come from?)

  I am thankful for the hard work of those who have painstakingly researched the cultures, wildlife, and ecosystems of Papua. The following are recommended books (and one video).

  Flannery, Tim. Mammals of New Guinea. Chatswood, New South Wales: Reed Books Australia, 1995. Print.

  Flannery, Tim. Throwim Way Leg: Tree Kangaroos, Possums, and Penis Gourds – On the Track of Unknown Mammals in Wildest New Guinea. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1998. Print.

  Marriott, Edward. The Lost Tribe – A Harrowing Passage into New Guinea’s Heart of Darkness. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1996. Print.

  Merrifield, William, Gregerson, Marilyn, and Ajamiseba, Daniel, Ed. Gods, Heroes, Kinsmen: Ethnographic Studies from Irian Jaya, Indonesia. Jayapura, Irian Jaya: Cenderawasih University, 1983. Print.

  Muller, Kal. New Guinea: Journey Into the Stone Age. Lincolnwood, Illinois: Passport Books, 1997. Print.

  Souter, Gavin. New Guinea: The Last Unknown. New York: Taplinger Publishing, 1966. Print.

  Van Enk, Gerrit J. and de Vries, Lourens. The Korowai of Irian Jaya – Their Language in its Cultural Context. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Print.

  Sky Above Mud Below. Dir. and Perf. Pierre-Dominique Gaisseau (organizer and leader) and Gerard Delloye (assistant leader). Lorimar Home Video, 1962. VHS.

  This is an amazing video filmed as it happened in 1959, when a group of explorers set out on a seven-month attempt to cross the jungles of Papua (then called Dutch New Guinea). Winner of the 1961 Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature.

  If you enjoy Diffusion, be sure to get the exciting second book of the Diffusion series, Infusion!

  http://www.stancsmith.com

  Historical adventure, sci-fi, and a prequel to Diffusion, all in one page-turning book! Check out my newest novel, Savage!

  http://www.stancsmith.com

  The following contains a preview excerpt from

  INFUSION: Diffusion Book 2

  Please visit my website:

  http://www.stancsmith.com

  INFUSION: Diffusion Book 2

  Quentin, Samuel, and Gregory were confined to their room well into the afternoon. Quentin requested to see Lindsey and the students but was told to wait. Gregory asked endless questions about the Lamotelokhai and its capabilities and origins. But finally he seemed to reach cerebral overload, and he lapsed into silence. He was taking it pretty well, Quentin thought, considering all he’d been forced to absorb in a single day.

  Samuel passed the time by asking his own questions, mostly regarding the various devices he had encountered since leaving the forest: radios, smartphones, and the hospital intercoms that interrupted them every few minutes with announcements in Indonesian. He never passed up a chance to physically touch anything unfamiliar to him, including the glass window and its plastic frame in the door of their hospital room.

  It was late afternoon when Santoso led two men into the room. One stepped forward and extended his hand. He wore a gray suit and was tall and thin, perhaps sixty, with almost-white hair impeccably combed straight back.

  “Gentlemen, Sterling Hess, Regional Security Officer, U.S. Embassy Jakarta. This is Dr. Paul Saskia.” The other man appeared Indonesian, though he was dressed in an American-cut suit almost identical to Hess’s. They shook hands all around and gave their names.

  Hess sat in a folding chair. The man had a relaxed but commanding way about him, and he seemed to consciously ignore Santoso, as if he had already decided he was tired of dealing with him. He pulled a digital tablet from his black bag. “There is some confusion over your situation,” he said. “The first order of business is to clear that up.” He tapped his way through some screens. He stared directly at Quentin for a moment and then looked at something on his screen, frowning. “Where are the others?” Hess asked Santoso. “Mrs. Darnell and the other passengers of the flight?”

  Santoso answered, “We have put them in other rooms in order to facilitate their medical examination.”

  Hess addressed Quentin. “Do you wish to be separated from your wife and the others at this time, Mr. Darnell?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Almost before Quentin finished speaking, Hess boomed, “Then this is bullshit. You are isolating these guests of your country against their will. Please bring the others here. Now.”

  Santoso’s face reddened, but he nodded to someone outside the door. Within seconds Lindsey entered the room, followed by the students, including Addison
. They all sported the same white t-shirts and pants that had been given to Quentin and Samuel. Quentin introduced all of them. He presented Addison as his son, which was easier to do than he expected.

  Hess looked back and forth from his tablet screen to each of them. “Roberto Herrera, Miranda Henry, Russ Wade,” he said. “Do you know the whereabouts of these people?”

  After a few uncomfortable glances, Lindsey said, “They were killed when our plane crashed. Along with the pilot and two Indonesian passengers.”

  Hess hesitated a moment. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” He then stood up. “If you will forgive me, there is something I must clear up right away. Dr. Saskia here is an American doctor. After what you have endured, you must surely have some use for his services.”

  Hess stepped into the hall but did not close the door. Dr. Saskia smiled at them and approached Ashley first. Santoso motioned for one of the Indonesian doctors to stay close and observe Dr. Saskia’s activities. Quentin tuned them out and listened instead to Hess.

  “Cameron, Sterling Hess here. There’s been a major gaffe. I’m here with the people now and have confirmed their identities.” A pause. “Cameron, they were standing right in front of me.” Another pause. “Well, they’re quite obviously wrong.” A longer pause. “I don’t know that yet. Yes, I’ll find out. I’ll get back to you. Oh, and Cameron, they say three Americans were killed. Students, in their teens. Along with three Indonesians. Yes, indeed it is.”

  Hess re-entered the room. “Who was it that called the United States earlier today?” He glanced at his tablet screen. “The call was made to a Dr. Phil Bollinger.”