Nirvana Effect (16 page)

Bri’ley’na and
the
three children sat on the floor with them.  They
all
ate quietly, Bri’ley’na occasionally chirping to one of the children to stay seated or to go fetch
some
seasoning.

Nockwe coughed
repeatedly
.  T
he coughs rocked his whole body. 
Sti
ll, he sounded better.  Once he
recovered from the fit, he smiled
wearily
at Edward. 

“Is there anything Western medicine can do for me, Edward Styles?” asked Nockwe.

“We could remove your lungs,” said Edward.

Nockwe frowned at him.  Edward laughed.

“A joke,” said Edward.

Nockwe’s eyebrows went through contortions.  He still looked quite serious; Edward hoped he hadn’t affronted the chieftain.  Then Nockwe burst into laughter.  Bri’ley’na asked Nockwe something very rapidly in Onge.  Nockwe responded just as quickly.  She started laughing, too.

“What?” asked Edward.

“You have a very strange sense of humor, white man,” said Bri’ley’na.  She laughed more.  She told the children to go play outside the hut.

“Actually,” said Edward, “there is very little we could do for a cough.  We have cough drops.  It can keep your throat from being so sore.”

“How do I get this ‘cough drops‘?” asked Nockwe.

“Go to a corner store in
Lisbaad
.”

“I might
just
do that,” said Nockwe.  “Even though it breaks every code of my tribe.”

“Better to break that little code and live, I say,” said Edward.

“Now you sound like Manassa,” said Nockwe.

Bri’ley’na quietly took her leave from the two men.

“What’s that?” asked Edward.

“Nothing,” said Nockwe, quickly.  Still, Edward leaned for an answer, so Nockwe said, dismissively, “Manassa is the bringer of change.”

“He is?  He breaks your codes?” asked Edward.  His interest was piqued.

Nockwe shrugged.  He coughed again.  “He is interpreter of the code.  The prophecies say that he ‘shall bring all the words of our traditions to new meaning, to new light.’”

“What does he say about medicine?”

“Our
law
says that no potions of foreigners be allowed in our bodies.”

“Mmhmm?” Edward prompted.

“Manassa says that all the Earth belongs to the Onge - that now that Manassa has come, there is no foreigner.”

“That’s what Manassa says?” asked Edward.  He couldn’t hide his reaction.  His pulse was racing
, his
breath ev
acuated into the jungle night.

Carefully,
Nockwe answered
, “That’s wha
t Manassa says in his sermons.”  He spoke more guardedly
.  Edward took his time to form the right question, something that would let Nockwe
feel comfortable once more. 
Edward realized he needed to know a lot more than he knew. 

Nockwe spoke before the words came to Edward.  His brow furrowed and he
talked
slowly, with the same rhythm he usually reserved for crowds.  “Edward, have you ever attended one of the sermons of Manassa?” asked Nockwe.

“No,” said Edward.

Nockwe looked into the candlelight.  He had another question, and Edward just waited for it.  Finally, Nockwe asked, “White man, what do you view as your role here?”

“I…” Edward started.  “I am the servant of Manassa.  I am here to perform accomplish his will,” lied Edward.

Nockwe scowled.  He leaned very close to Edward, and whispered in his ear.  “That is all well, since the eyes and ears of Manassa are everywhere.  But tell me how you truly see your role.  I owe you my life; I will not betray you.”

Edward nodded.  He thought of Tomy.  It was likely
that
he was crouching outside, just as Dook had spied on Tien’s conversation with the chieftain. 

Should I talk to him? 
Edward trusted Nockwe, far more than he trusted anyone else in the tribe.  Why shouldn’t he?  Edward whispered back, “I am researching…”

“
Lleychta?”
asked Nockwe.

“Yes.”

Nockwe drew in a breath and
considered once more the
candle.  He seemed to be meditating.  Edward’s
eyes
drifted to the walls of the hut.  They were
adorned
from top to bottom
with skins and various artifacts
inherited from the Onge chieftains of ages past
.  Edward did not really see them.  He was just letting Nockwe think.

Finally,
the chieftain whispered
in the formal Onge tongue
,
“White man, I will tell you the story of Manassa, the same way it is told our children, and was told to me, and was told to my ancestors for hundreds of years.  I do this for you.  You say I saved your life, and you were only paying a debt, but my debt is greater than yours, now.   If I did not owe such a debt, I would not help you.  I
would not tell you the story, f
or
doing so
is truly a disservice to my tribe, and a disservice to Manassa, who
em
power
s
our tribe.  Still, I will tell you.”

Edward rocked back and waited for Nockwe to begin.

The chieftain spoke smoothly.  It was a
familiar
tale
to Nockwe
,
told
in all its flowery phrases.

“We are a people of many, many gods, but three are higher than all.  The first god is the creator, maker of heaven and Earth.  He became the Earth and the stars that we might have life.  He only lives through us, through the beasts of the jungle, through the trees and streams, even through the mud.  He sacrificed his life as a seed for all of our world.”

Edward was
already,
familiar with the Onge pantheon, but listened carefully.

“The second god is the all-seeing, all-knowing god of now.  He is the Watcher.  He is the Taker.  He is the guardian of the Onge.  He keeps us on the island, to keep us strong, to keep by our codes, to wait for the sign.

“The third god is just born.  He is the immortal child.  When the first god sowed this Earth with life, he planted a seed of immortality, that one day he might be reborn as himself.  And the second god watched over the seed, guarding it until the proper day had passed.  And when it passed, the third god was born, the child eternal, Manassa.

“Manassa leads us, his chosen people, to reclaim the Earth he seeded with his life.  For just as the greatest of Onge must be the chieftain, so must the greatest people of Earth be the chieftain of Earth.”

Surely Mahanta did not buy into this claptrap.  Edward nodded.

“Has my god Manassa told you of this?” asked Nockwe.

Edward said, “Yes,” for the benefit of any eavesdroppers, but shook his head decidedly, “No.”

Nockwe sighed.  He leaned in close to Edward once more and whispered.  “Mahanta became Manassa because of the signs.  He fulfilled the prophecy.  But there are more prophecies.  Rul
ing the white man is one of them, including ruling you.  That pretense has already been achieved
.  But there are many more.  And if Manassa does not fulfill the prophecies, he is not Manassa.  He is not the child immortal.”

“Then what is he?” whispered Edward.

“Dead,” said Nockwe.  He then leaned back.  He watched Edward meaningfully as he finished his story, “Like a Chinese rocket, Manassa shoots us to our fortune, our future.”  He slowly enunciated his last sentences.  “
Like an Onge arrow, our path is set and unwavering.  Once fired, no man can divert it, not even he who let it loose.
”

Nockwe rose.  Edward stood with him.  Nockwe led him to the exit of the hut by his arm.  The chieftain whispered in parting, “There is a saying with my people.  It goes: the foolish man, facing the panther, dives into its waiting mouth.  Goodbye, Edward.”

For the first time, Edward turned his attention to the future while under trance.
Half his trance he spent in the future.  The other half, he spent in Mahanta’s private quarters, behind the throne in the temple.

The future was a haze of probabilities.  It arced along many channels.  He found that it was already calculated to some degree.  He did not have the think about it so much as view it.  It had already been subconsciously, furiously computed.

The future hinged on the
single question:
“
Who to trust?”
From there, it
branched out to many more questions, chief among them:
“
What did Nockwe mean
, exactly
?
”, “
What does Mahanta
really
intend?
”,
and
“
What the hell am I doing?
”

If Nockwe was being entirely truthful, then Mahanta’s course was set.  He was not “Mahanta, the scientist.”  He was “Manassa, the Onge god,” manipulating Edward in order that he might fulfill prophecies and aggrandize himself. 

Or else Nockwe sought to undermine Mahanta, and take power for himself.  It would not be the first time an Onge chieftain used subterfuge to maintain
control
.  To lose power was death for him and
possibly
his family
as well
.  It was an unreasonable assumption to think that Nockwe was truly on Manassa’s side.

It was an unreasonable assumption to think that Nockwe was truly on Edward’s side.  Honor or no, he was an Onge first and foremost.

He would not have told Edward what he did if it did not benefit him
self
or the tribe.

The whole
honor
bit was just to sell it to Edward.

Edward
had the feeling of a man playing chess who
suddenly makes the unhappy discovery
that he’s a pawn, sitting on a giant chess board absorbed in the little chess board on his lap.

What was Nockwe trying to do?

Instead of thinking about it, Edward just viewed all of the possibilities that led from the facts.  The facts were that Mahanta hadn’t told Nockwe what Edward was up to.  The facts were that Mahanta and Nockwe were involved in a game that Edward did not yet understand.  The facts were that everyone was playing a game except him.  He was just a pawn.

From where he sat, each of the possibilities were just as plausible.  He lacked data.  He needed data before he lost the trance. 

Again, he
had to steal
the initiative, just like in his duel with Dook.  The time had come to play the only card he had. 

Edward
stood up from his bed of straw.  He walked briskly behind the throne to Mahanta’s personal chambers.  He was not surprised to see a candle still burning and Mahanta hunched over his desk.

Mahanta turned
abruptly
,
but
his posture
remained
natural and his face relaxed.  Still, Edward noticed the nigh-imperceptible clenching
of
Mahanta’s back muscles in frig
ht, the minute
s
urprise
that told Edward
he had Mahanta off balance. 
Mahanta
hadn’t been expecting Edward to make a move so suddenly, but had been expecting a move.

Edward knew with a trance certainty that Tomy had indeed spied, and perhaps had done better than Nockwe and Edward suspected he could have.

“Edward,” said Mahanta.  “Can’t sleep?”  Mahanta was watching Edward’s eyes.  He was looking for the trance, and found it there.

“No, I’m very awake, Mahanta,” said Edward with a casual smile.

“Can I help you?” asked Mahanta.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ll be leaving for
Lisbaad
immediately,” said Edward.

Mahanta was shocked.  Edward could never have known he was shocked outside of trance.  Mahanta’s eyebrows quivered.  His pupils dilated a fraction of an inch, but in perfect reaction to the end of Edward’s sentenc
e as it struck home.  It took time
for Mahanta to respond.  Edward waited, not elucidating further.

“But why?” asked Mahanta carefully.

“I have business to attend to,” said Edward.

“I see.”  Edward could see Mahanta thinking.  He could almost articulate the thoughts whirring
behind
Mahanta’s eyes.  “I trust you don’t believe in Onge mythology,” said Mahanta.

“As much as you do,” said Edward quickly.