Chapter 9
Shen walked the edge of the Sleeping Forest going towards his cave. He was considering testing whether or not his gift truly made him immune to the sleeper effect. There were his crude platform and ropes near the last Irk nest he had found. He would likely be safe to take a nap there. Tying himself to a tree limb in an emergency had always been a risky venture. He feared the rope would break, the limb would break, or the hook wouldn’t catch, or the length of rope would be insufficient, or he would accidentally hang himself, and or he wouldn’t be secure before the Irk hit a tree near enough to sleep him. Finding Irks first wasn’t too hard, as there were always tells, but also they always announced their presence prior to attacking. They preferred to shepherd prey into an opening, as opposed to chasing through the forest. Shepherding was collaborative affair.
His procedure to avoid sleep had been effective enough. In an emergency, emergency meaning the presence of an Irk, he climbed high enough not to be pecked to death then tossed a hook to the nearest branch. It was a very crude hook. The weight of the hook usually took it around the branch a couple times. If he saw it catch, he would mentally applaud himself, ‘batman!’ Several times he woke hanging from a tree, as the other end was secured around his torso. The first time he discovered his harness was secured improperly, and he woke ‘head down.’ He had a headache, but he was alive. It was night, the Irks’ had given up. He managed to right himself and climb the rope to the branch. He imagined himself a batman piñata.
He had yet to master climbing a rope as good as Cirque Du Soleil aerial performers, and he suspected their vertical ropes were much better qualities. There were some places he expected Irk traffic and had secured a dozen ropes, and a couple weight trapped ropes to ascend faster. After that incident, he avoided Irks and sleeping trees as much as possible, which was impossible near his cave home; he remained alert to the signs of Irks. Tells included fresh poop, footprints, odd chirps sounding the forest, and pitch. The chirps suggested they had ‘click sight,’ but he had not seen them navigating at night. When they announced their presence, there was always one who was chosen to scare the prey; this was usually the oldest one, but he still didn’t know how the one was selected. The scary one would come out of the shadows and screech, head feathers would fan out, flightless wings would extend. He called that the embrace; it could extend from tree to tree in the forest, blocking an out. Clearly, they were the top predators, not afraid, and so everything ran the opposite way of the one assigned to scare. If he stayed put, the scary one approached, and would likely eat whatever didn’t run.
Shen’s first Irk kill had been a clever device, and an overabundance of hubris. He knew the nest. He knew the clearing he would likely be shepherded to, and highly suspected the path the scary one would take. The Irk didn’t come from precisely the angel he had assumed, but close enough. It screeched. He held his held his ground. The Irk took steps towards him, and screeched again. It swayed to and fro, wings extended blocking the path. The dance to incite run was almost comical. It came forward, head tilting, uncertain, it clawed the ground, picking up leaves and dropping them. It could sleep him, and drag the meal, but they were lazy. It lowered its head and attacked. Shen directed its head into a noose, pulling a knot from the tree behind him. A bag of rocks came down. The Irk shot up into the tree.
Shen wasn’t clear if the other Irk’s understood, but after that, two other Irks came out of the shadow, coming at him hard and fast. He released the second tie, and he, too, shot up into the tree. An appropriately weight bag of rocks descended the tree, but lodge in a branch. He was out of their reach. He applauded himself for having assumed greater Irk intelligence, because the hanging Irk’s weighted net was on the ground. They attacked it. It was unclear if they were just mad and attacking the rope, maybe because it smelled like him, or because they intuited the thing. Ultimately they broke the rope. Their fellow Irk fell, crashing over top of one of them. The fallen Irk was dead, the other brushed off the fall, and they ate their dead sister. Others came to join. It was awkward for them eating in the enclosed place, and they fought each other. One of them jumped up but Shen was out of reach. Someone kicked a tree and he slept. On waking, they were gone. He recovered feathers, and enough meat for a couple days. This particular pack of Irks gave him a wider birth for a while. He wondered, short term memory was good, but long term not so good?
Nests didn’t last long, and the Irks tended to roam. One could also discern movement because of their poop trails. Dung beetles preferred the older, dried poop. If it weren’t for the balls being rolled with pitch, they might have given the trees the appearance being snow frosted at the base. One could make a reasonable estimate of area activity by the accumulation of fresh dung balls stuck to the trees. It had a particular odor as well. Fresh dung smelled awful. By the time the beetles were rolling it, it was more appealing, the kind of aged fruit smell, with a blend of tobacco. Dried and stuck to a tree, it was surprisingly sweet, and bees would walk it looking for pollen. If they got stuck in the pitch, they were eaten by larvae of a roamer beetle. Terry Pratchett would likely love how many beetles populated this planet.
In his walk, holding the gift, he came upon a tree with an above ground root complex which was easier to navigate walking the root. Some of the patterned opening were packed with ‘snow’ and pitch, handiwork of a beetle that got their ball stuck and simply filled in around it. A larger opening had a hole in the ground and the beetle that emerged would collect fallen leaves and draw it down into its nest. The purple tree was dropping its leaves, small petals, purple flowery things that fell so heavy it was like purple snow, and berries would drop. He found the berries unpalatable, but Irks would eat them, and so he tolerated them on occasion until once he ate too many and vomited. He never at that again. The flowery part reminded him of Cherry Blossoms. The tiny seeds made nice little pellets, and if he had a BB-gun, they would probably be just as affected, as they were nuts to crack. He suspected the Irks needed the seeds to help with digestion, as they also ate gravel.
He climbed over the root, touching a sleeper tree with his right hand as he began his passage over the root complex.
He was suddenly seeing out of someone else’s eyes. He heard laughter and talking, and he was pretty sure the voice was Lanore’s, only- it was qualitatively different. He understood immediately: this was how she heard her own voice. He was in her head! He was familiar with her outside voice, and if he played it on a tape recorder she would know it was hers and likely hate it, the same way he hated hearing his own voice. He wondered if actors hated hearing themselves when watching movies. He backed off the tree. Lanore went away. He touched the tree. He could hear Lanore talking, but the vision was not so good. He stepped back up. Apparently, being off the earth, or full on the tree, made a difference. She was talking about Candace, moving up in rank. They had colored her hair orange.
“Did you ever wonder why they call it the rainbow path?” Tell asked.
“Not since I visited Sinter,” Lanore said. Shen’s vision split. To the right he had memories as clear as seeing a present day scene with his eyes, while, to his left he saw Tell and Neva, listening attentively. He smelled the fire, something cooking over the fire; a stew. He felt affection for her; at the same time, her felt her love for the forest in her memory. She was trying to convey love of the forest. He felt the warmth of fire on her back. He could see Lanore’s legs, lotus position, holding a board with art. He was embarrassed at feeling the stirrings of lust for her and nearly disconnected from the experience. They were all drawing- he focused on this. Sitting on pillows, near the hearth of her study. She described the rainbow path, a place were a variety of flowering trees, with every color one could imagine. The path was not a path. It was simply a forest of trees, and the apprentice found their own way through the forest. They had to collect colored petals. Intermixed in the forest was the occasional sleeper tree. They were marked. Some had elaborate ribbons, or stone plaques. Eventually one came to the thick of the Sleeping forest, which lined the shore of Sinter.
Shen discovered in this dialogue that no one traveled to the heart of Sinter who wasn’t born there, or who wasn’t invited. Lanore had been born in Midelay, but she had passed an exam after being apprentice and received an invitation without petition.
Lanore drew a circle. It was big, crude, she traced it lightly until she had a good circle, and darkened that. She put notches in it. It wasn’t a perfect circle; it was a pentagram. Inside the pentagram, she drew another circle, and in this she drew a lake. She describe the lake and the triple angel falls. The lake was high, cupped by the three peaks. Sleeping trees were on the mountain, making it very difficult to climb, but small temples were made at each of the falls. There were bridges over each falls. There was a path that went over, through, but completed a perfect circle, connecting the three mountain tops. There were three sky bridges that went to the temple above the lake. There was a stone path leading up to the temple, but it didn’t reach the base. She spoke with reverence of the super beings that had built the temples. ‘The ones before us.’ The entire outer circle was thick with Sleeping Trees. The trees went into the water. There was one place where the trees were so large around, often touching the neighboring trees, that it was solid wall. ‘The ones before’ had put door here, a living temple inside a sleeper, and a door on the other side that opened above the waters ‘between.’ There was stone building on the far side of the tree home, stairs going down to the water.
Lanore heard the whisper of a tangential memory: ‘a master can sleep here and discern all of creation…’ but he didn’t chase it. He followed Lanore’s memory with narrative out to the other side. The temple on the other side was marble. Not small bricks, but impossible size blocks. Odd shaped blocks that fit in and locked together. These were not machine cut, or even moved by a thousand men and shoved easily into place. They were either transported, using Star Trek-ish transporter or replicator technology, or printed with a molecular three-D printer. The surface of the structure was mesmerizing. It had a blending of what looked like ancient Egyptian and Mayan art. The door in the tree had wooden steps leading down to the top of pyramid structure. There was a marble moon gate at the top. The marble was white with gold veins. The whole of it looked like solid marble, with stairs leading down to the water, stairs leading down, and leading east.
Two ramps proceeded down on either side of the stairs. There was another floor, like a terrace, that came up a foot above the water. The walls of the pyramid came out and down. There were doors north, south, and west.
“A ziggurat!” Shen said.
“A ziggurat,” Lanore echoed.
Shen became instantly still and quiet, to the point it was as if he wasn’t there. In this silence, he heard Oa: “What you watch, also watches you. You can hear her, she can hear you.”
“What was that?” Tell asked.
“I don’t know why I said that,” Lanore said.
Shen decided to test it, saying something funny to him, but incomprehensible to Lanore: “Malkovich.” Lanore echoed the word. She wrote the two words she had uttered, phonetically on the paper.
Oa was amused. Shen stepped off the tree onto dirt and let go of the tree.
“Are you still there, Oa?” Shen asked.
No response. He sat down and drew what he had saw. He described the rainbow path. He drew the continent of Sinter. He went home, gathered supplies for trade, and headed back out. He arrived at the first camp by nightfall. He slept there, or tried to. He was too excited to sleep. He did try, but eventually gave up. His mind was racing with dialogue and he just wanted to talk to someone real, not someone in his head. He even argued with that thought, saying the conversations in his head are also real and important, with caveats. He was exploring the caveats; inner conversations with Loxy were clearly beneficial to his wellbeing, and different than racing thoughts, scaffolding, or scripting.
When Loxy responded, it was clear, not contrived, not him- it was dialogue.
Morning broke before he arrived at Midelay. He emerged from the forest upon a scene of Endel being robbed of food by peers and harassed. Shen inserted himself into the thick of it.
“Enough,” Shen said.
“Go sleep yourself,” the alpha of this arrangement said. His name was Brent.
“Endel has submitted to your authority, it’s over,” Shen said.
“I don’t want him to submit,” Brent said. “I want him to fight.”
“To what end? You’re superior in strength, and number. What else is there?” Shen asked.
“I am responsible for his training, and you’re interfering,” Brent said. “He will demonstrate skills or go hungry.”
“How will he improve if he is weakened by hunger?” Shen asked.
An older boy came over. “Shen is off limits.” His name was Shyo and he was a higher level.
“He is interfering,” Brent said.
“Let me train him for five cycles, and he will exceed your expectations,” Shen said.
The boys laughed. Endel asked, ‘Really?’
“Don’t let the girl boy fill you with his delusions,” Shyo said. “Shen, walk away, or not only will I condone a lesson to you, I will engage as well.”
“I am not backing down,” Shen said.
“I warned you,” Shyo said.
Shen didn’t run. He also, deflected the blows, using a style known as Wu Wei
Gung Fu. In his head, he felt connected to one of his heroes, Jackie Chan. It was if they were one. It was also as if he had separated from himself and Chan took over. And, from a third perspective, he and Chan were separate from the whole affair, simply talking.
“The environment always offers assistance,” Chan was saying, as one of the boys that had been working the garden came running over. He dropped the hoe to fist fight.
Wu Wei was an excellent form for close contact defense and attack, because one could defend while simultaneously attacking, usually using the opponents own energy against them. Energy in was redirected back out. One could do this with their eyes closed, because all energy is telegraph. Contact was essential. Clutching the gift gave him a 3D view around him, sort of a cheat; one of the boys was also clicking, trying to use a different sight than vision. Clicking identified his location in 3d space. Shen stepped on the business end of the rake, the other end went up, between boy’s leg, and dropped him. His bag held a crystal, and when someone tried to take the bag, it’s weight and momentum was included in combat. Using a developed form against boys who just wanted to fist fight and or wrestle felt like a cheat. Shyo went down hard. He seemed more confused than stunned. An adult male entered the fray and he, too, went down, severely hurt. Groin kicks could make a man wish he were dead. When the immediate action stopped, five peers, three older boys, and one adult lay on the ground. One unconscious, two crying, the others dazed. The man had yet regained enough air to cry. Shen didn’t escape injury. He had a higher tolerance to pain than most, likely because he had been beaten before, by family, by school peers. Consequently, pain had made him stupid; when he got hurt, he dug in and stood his ground, as opposed to running away. In his past, he had always dug in and chose the beating because he hoped for death; this inner thing apparently lingered in his psyche. He never got death, but usually, after a severe enough beating, he was never targeted again because he didn’t fight or run and eventually most people just don’t bother; his injuries never got him pity. His track in martial arts came way later in life, when he no longer needed the skill of fighting; most adults learn to avoid fighting, or to avoid places where fighting is likely to occur. He had wished he had the skill earlier in life, and now he had an inkling how things might have been different- at least on the school yard. If he had beat up family at home, he would likely have been put in foster. Still a step up.
There was an audience. Females were curious. Other males were pissed, but had stayed back, calling for others to come witness. Witnessing was over, now it was escalation. The group of men coming was going to be more serious. Endel’s eyes were big.
“How did you…”
Shen took his hand. “Run!”
Endel pulled Shen along. They ran. They were chased past the fire pit. Shen came to an abrupt stop inside the Circle of Stone. The men chasing came to a halt. Two guards brought their staffs up.
“You’re interfering with men affairs,” one of them said.
“All who enter the circle are provided sanctuary,” Flame said. Her hair was green.
Her peer, Lisha, her hair was also green. Lisha was more on the heavy side, but well defined muscles. Gindy held the inner circle. Her hair was green with blue streaks. She was tall, and though she wore the attire of apprentice, she also had chain art hanging about her neck, a spider web pattern.
“You aren’t going to violate the circle,” Lisha said.
“This is not…”
“We will sort what it is and what it isn’t, Kole,” Lisha said. “You boys disperse. Go on.”
Kole said something and some of the men went back to business. He and his compatriot lingered, arms crossed. Kole was a thin, lanky man. His friend was massive, likely the result of pushing carts of stone or ore. In the circle, both Endel and Shen were on knee, bowing, hands open and on the ground. If anyone had noticed he had held the gift, no one said anything. He was aware of its weight in his pocket. He wanted to hold it. Gindy tapped her staff on the ground. “Shen, if it is found that you are abusing this ground, you will be severely punished.”
“I accept. I request an audience with N’Ma,” Shen said.
“You’re not a woman…”
Lisha pointed at Kole and he fell silent.
“We don’t interfere in the affairs of men,” Gindy said.
“I respectfully request an audience…”
“Shen,” Gindy said, popping the ground with the butt of her staff. There was a sound, strange harmonics, and he the other end of her staff was alive with energy. He had indirect evidence by the shimmer in his shadow on the ground, the light on her legs. It occurred to him, randomly bizarre- people of this world walk differently. Their shoes tended to be more cloth, and so they could walk naturally, their feet testing the ground, where as his modern shoes were heavy, bulky, and he stepped harder- people stepped harder. His inner voice of Chan commended the observation. Most people have forgotten how to walk, how to breathe…
He lifted his right hand from the ground, turned it over brought it to his chest. “My heart light needs strengthening. I come with gifts, seeking gifts, but in truth, I am impoverished.”
Flame was angry and raised her staff to hit Shen, but Lisha took hold of it. Gindy came out of the circle.
“Flame, go request N’Ma,” Gindy said. “Lisha and I will hold the circle.”
“This isn’t…”
“We always respond to heart light…”
“He is a boy,” Flame said. “He can’t use…”
“I don’t know that. I only know the words and that calling requires a response,”
Gindy said. “Only a Master can respond. You go, I will hold the circle…”
“No, you will go,” Flame said.
“I am giving you a directive,” Gindy said.
“I want rule of three. I am the better warrior,” Flame said.
“You are,” Gindy agreed. “This is not a war. This is not going to escalate. I will use your speed, though, to resolve this. N’Ma favors him. That much is clear. Now, go.”
“I agree with Gindy,” Lisha said. “You’re faster.”
Flame pushed air. A curl of hair was displaced because of her huff. “I will not be placated.” Two had decided, rule of three was done. She bowed. “I will return with an answer.”
Endel whispered to Shen. “Can you teach me to be like you?”
“Shh,” Shen said.
Gindy re-entered the circle. Shen and Endel remain in their pose. They weren’t invited to stand. Peripheral vision gave Shen insight. Boys and men were lingering. Coming out of the circle meant further hostilities. Kole had positioned himself so a glance up revealed his glare. Heart light extended from the center of the circle to a meter out. The stillness, unusual quietness, made it easier to see.
“May I stand up?” Endel said.
“Hold your pose,” Shen said.
“Quiet, or leave the circle,” Gindy said.
“I am hurting,” Endel said.
“May I petition…” Shen began.
“Silence,” Gindy said. “You have been given lenience enough.”
Time passed. The smell of lunch being passed around was enough of a threat, as Endel complained of hunger, but the boys were loudly hitting spoon to bowls. Endel collapsed, crying due to leg cramp. Gindy went to hit him, and Shen lay on top of him, taking the brunt of the stick.
“Enough,” N’Ma said.
N’Ma entered the circle. Her entourage folded around the top of the circle, but only one entered, Tian, and she placed a stool on the ground. N’Ma sat.
“Stand up, boys,” N’Ma said.
Shen and Endel stood. Shen was shaking. Shen was about to draw a circle around his heart…
“Don’t do that,” N’Ma said, pointing at him.
“I am trying to honor…”
“You are male. You are not on this path,” N’Ma said.
“Can a Shaman be on this path?”
“You are not that,” N’Ma said. “You requested an audience.”
Kole stepped up to the circle. “I wish to enter a complaint.”
“Not now,” N’Ma said.
“You’re intervening in men affairs, I have the right to enter,” Kole said.
“Come,” N’Ma said.
Kole entered, bowed and after being recognized by Gindy, N’Ma asked him to stand.
“He abuses the privilege of circle. He instigated a fight,” Kole said.
Shen didn’t correct his elder.
“That’s not the story I received,” N’Ma said. “My understanding is he schooled your students.”
“We were instructed not to fight him. That is the only reason he was successful,” Kole said.
“He doesn’t look uninjured to me,” N’Ma said.
“He instigated, we defended ourselves, per code,” Kole said.
“You don’t really want to quote code to me, do you?” N’Ma said.
“I am not trying to be disrespectful,” Kole said.
N’Ma turned to Shen. She frowned.
“You can fight. Why have you held back?” N’Ma asked.
“I cannot fight,” Shen said. “I can survive. One on one, I can extricate myself. That leads to escalation. There is limit to how many people I can fight without surviving resulting in someone’s death, mine or other. I am determined to survive.”
“People die,” N’Ma said. “Men, women. Fighting is your way.”
“There are better ways,” Shen said.
N’Ma pointed. “If in this discovery I find you entered sanctuary simply to avoid a beating, I will beat you myself,” she said.
“How many people need die before I can respectfully bow out?” Shen asked.
Kole laughed. “You’re a child, you’re a monster, and you’re a rogue, you will never hold that kind of respect.”
“If I kill Kole, will I hold such respect?” Shen asked.
Kole laughed. “You can’t kill…”
“Shen, state your reasoning for entering my circle,” N’Ma said.
There was silence. He pushed the boundary of not responding. Gindy, Lisha, and Flame lit their staffs ready to execute punishment.
“I wish to formally declare war against the men of West Midelay,” Shen said.
Everyone laughed. N’Ma frowned, got up to walk away.
“Neogitate, or there will be collateral damage,” Shen said.
N’ma turned back, slapping him hard. “You dare threaten me or women?”
Shen took it. He went to his knees, putting his head to the ground. “I am formally declaring war against the men of West Midelay, and wishing for oversight, and the establishment of rules of engagement.”
“There are no rules in war, idiot,” Kole said.
“You’re going to want rules, Sir,” Shen said.
“Stand up,” N’Ma instructed. “What sort of rules.”
“No more than five people can engage me at a time,” Shen said.
“That’s stupid,” Kole said.
“Silence, Kole,” N’Ma said. “No, Shen. I will not honor that.”
“Please. If there isn’t boundaries, people will die. I don’t see a way around that,” Shen said.
“People will die,” N’Ma agreed. “Likely you. I am okay if you die. Sometimes, death is the best instructor for hubris.”
“Limit all engagement to daylight,” Shen requested.
“If you can’t fight in the dark, you shouldn’t be fighting,” Kole said.
“Speak one more time, and I will take you out of authority,” N’Ma said. “No,
Shen. War is war, day or night.”
“Tell me what the end of war looks like,” Shen said.
“When you are dead, or Kole is dead,” N’Ma said.
“Then allow me and Kole alone to enter battle,” Shen said.
“No. You declared war.”
“Then we need another way to declare the end of hostility, because I will not kill Kole,” Shen said.
“Explain,” N’Ma said.
“He speaks for the men here. If I kill him, I become that authority. I don’t want that authority. Every fighter from the Domain of Sinter will come to challenge me. There is no end in this way. Also, I need someone who is capable of learning. I will injure him. I will kill is friends and favorites. I will kill his son. He will suffer greatly. And he will call for you to intervene and I will remind you, you denied formal restraints and the war will go on until there are no men willing to oppose me,” Shen said.
“Or until you die,” N’Ma said.
“Or until my death,” Shen said.
“So be it,” N’Ma said.
“Will you honor one request?” Shen asked.
“Ask,” N’Ma said.
“This war is to end war. To allow boys the opportunity not to fight if they chose not to fight. Endel was being treated unfairly. I intervened, that’s what this is about. I want a promise he will neither be harmed nor punished due to my intervention, until the end of the war,” Shen said.
N’Ma looked to Kole.
Kole snickered. “I promise, Endel has my protection. No one will harm him or punish him, with one caveat. If you go two days without engagement, I will personally kill him, break of third.” Translation, third day’s light.
Shen fumed, reconsidered killing Kole, but contained it. “Not reasonable.”
“This condition of war is accepted,” N’Ma said.
“Seriously?” Shen asked.
“Leave my circle,” N’Ma said.
“Grant me safe passage to the forest,” Shen said.
“I will give you your head start,” Kole said. “Run, coward.”
Shen bowed to N’Ma. She gave him a palm gesture saying he was heard. It was a half-ass gesture. She didn’t mean it. He then bowed to Kole. Kole smirked, but the look N’Ma gave him made him return the respect. Shen walked to the forest, verbally taunted and harassed. Shyo was up. ‘You’re dead.’ He disappeared into the forest.
They found no evidence of Shen for that night, all that next day, and all of that next night. He arrived by the end of the second of day, before sun set. He walked out to find the boys in loose groups, nothing organized. No one had expected him to come. No one truly expected anything except he would likely be beat to death. He came out wielding a selfmade bow and arrow. He had fined tuned it. He had killed fire snakes with it. He had killed one Irk with it. The Irk roared, the arrow flew through opened mouth, and penetrated the back of its neck. He had hope to severe the spinal cord and fell it in one swoop. That didn’t happen. The creature suffered for days before dying, unable to eat, unable dislodge the arrow. It finally died because it was too tired to run and its peers ate it. Shen hated that. He hated this.
But he was capable. He stepped forwards into the light. An older boy whistled. Everyone turned to see him. Kole was suddenly jovial. The first arrow dropped his favored, the strongest man in Midelay. The arrow penetrated eye, into the brain, and he fell. Kole was speechless, his mouth agape. The man’s blood had splattered him. The second man to die was his friend. Third arrow penetrated Kole’s right shoulder. He screamed an order. Boys, not men, were incited to rush him. Shen retreated to the forest. Boys followed. They chased, losing him in the woods. He had doubled back, came behind them and shot an arrow hitting the nearest Sleeper Tree. Most of the group of boys fell. Only two did not. He put an arrow by their feet.
“Run back, report what happened,?