Other Worlds Were Possible, page 8
“What? You doubt me? Doubt away! It still remains a fact. And facts are crocodilian. They’ll eviscerate you if you ignore them… Believe it. The Sons of Empire have impenetrable armour. Your arrows won’t ever pierce it… They have deadly weapons-o. Their rifles can destroy whatever protective cloths you wear… They’re what they call ‘Patriots’ and ‘Religious fanatics’. They have these abstract ideals. Crazy beliefs, the likes of which you couldn’t begin to comprehend. And they’re prepared to die for these made-up concepts!… They have these things they call ‘Books’, which imbue them with the experience of a thousand battles… And their horses! My brethren: Their horses can appear out of nowhere. They can surround you at unimaginable speeds, picking you off before you have the chance to call for help. They’re unbeatable. When under threat, their horses simply retreat. They regroup, and they come again. Yes. Uncles and aunties: The Sons of Empire are coming. And they’re going to crush you all.”
Hunter had patted the horse, whilst boasting of the species’ prowess. And now he was patting it again; pausing, allowing the clans-folk to consider his claims, before illustrating his point with a tale:
“Factually! I’ve seen such things with these very eyes. I’ve witnessed a Son of Empire approach a camp like this, and spray leaden fire from his gun. Wow! He killed so many people! The survivors piled up the bodies, to make a protective wall. Their river turned red with blood.”
He nodded solemnly.
“Don’t think they wouldn’t do the same to you.
“But, my brethren, you’re in luck. The Sons believe they’ve already conquered this valley-o. They say this land is already their land, and its people are already their subjects.”
Sunny scratched his head with such ferocity, he might have drawn blood.
He struggled to understand why anyone might think they had conquered his clan, simply because they had vanquished an unrelated people in another place. He had never heard of a “Subject”. It did not sound like any word in their tribe’s language. And he could not understand how the land could belong to these “Sons of Empire”. A person’s body belonged to them, as did their loincloth and beads. But land belonged to nature; to every plant, bird, animal and insect who made it their home. Their tribe had a kind of unspoken agreement, acknowledging that the Eagle Clan were guardians of this land. But they would have been happy to share it with a visiting clan. They had used other tracts of land in the past. Only a psychopath would think the land could belong to them. The very idea was met with a collective gasp.
“They say this land is already their land, and its people are already their subjects. If you fight them, they’ll kill you. If you welcome them, they’ll force you to adopt their ways. But take my treats; this gun, these shots, this horse… And then… And then, you might just survive.”
Hunter nodded with smug satisfaction:
“No-one else will offer you a gun. I’m taking a big, big risk. Wow! If anyone found out, I’d surely be killed… Yes, it’s a fact: I’m doing this because I care.
“The winds of progress cannot be tamed, but you can protect yourself from their thrust. So please, take these precious gifts. If you refuse, you’ll be slaughtered or enslaved. But if you take these things, there’s a chance you’ll all survive.”
Hunter nodded with even more self-righteousness than before. Only this time, he did not continue his speech. He waited for a response. And, when none was forthcoming, he pushed for an answer, asking: “Well? What do you think?”
It was Serenity who replied, after the customary pause:
“If your intentions were as honourable as you suggest, you’d only need to speak softly. Yet yesterday you resorted to bribes, and today you’ve dealt in threats… Child: It’s better to have a little less thunder in the mouth, and a little more lightning in the hand.”
Another hush ensued.
This time, it was Kitten who broke the silence:
“How do you know so much about these watermelon heads? What, are you a ‘Son of Empire’ yourself? A Mister Coconut? Furry on the outside, but hard beneath the hair?”
Hunter grinned. He was happy to have provoked a reaction.
“I once lived like you, without a care in the world; floating on the wind, living for the breeze; hunting, gathering, and sitting around the fire. Ah! Those innocent days! But, alas, I was cut adrift. Puff! As quick as a ray of light, I found myself clan-less and alone. It was tough. I had to find my own food, make my own fires, and build my own camp, every single day. It was exhausting-o. I needed release. And release came, when I reached the Endless Ocean. Stood there, gazing out across those waters, I caught sight of a colourless man. Brethren! You wouldn’t believe my surprise. Wow! I thought he was inside-out! I’m not afraid to admit that I was scared. Shocked! My brethren: I couldn’t move a limb!
“But that man was not nearly so alarmed. He walked by, without so much as a second glance. It was only when he returned, a little while later, that he looked me up and down. He offered me food, and ushered me aboard his giant canoe; a thing so large, it contained a hundred huts. A thing with enormous wings, which propelled us across the water.
“I was grateful for the companionship and the adventures which came my way. But I’d be lying if I said things were easy. They forced me to cook, clean, tie ropes, hoist wings, and carry their precious treasure. I accompanied them on their missions, set up their camps, helped them to wage war, and acted as their guide and translator. Factually: They kept me busy day and night. Wow! It was a big, big education.
“Yes, uncles and aunties: I went and saw the world. I saw huts made of stone and huts made of wood, huts with walls so thick they could repel an ancestral attack, and cross-shaped huts with coloured windows. I saw tracks which went on forever, and a camp which was built on top of rivers. I tasted the delicacies of a hundred different peoples. I was wowed by plays, poetry, stories and songs; the likes of which you couldn’t begin to imagine.
“Uncles and aunties: I was gone so long, I’d forgotten my home. Factually: My memory only returned, when I walked the very same paths I’d travelled all those seasons before.
“We fought battles, claimed land, and moved on our merry way. But then I recognised our valley-o. I thought of you. And I was overcome by a sense of… Of… Well, nostalgia, I suppose. And… Yes, I suppose it must be said… I felt remorse. I’d abandoned my people, to live a better life. I felt… I felt this insatiable need to make amends. To give something back. To clear my debt to the ones who’d ushered me into this realm.
“So here I am, laden with gifts. I only ask that you accept them. Allow me to clear my debt.”
The fire spat sparks in arbitrary directions.
Kitten spat as she spoke:
“Tut, tutty-tut-tut, tutty-tut… Your story makes about as much sense as an elephant who’s lost its trunk. What? You were forced to leave the clan because you were a big bossy man? And you became a teeny-weeny small man, who wiped the arses of these albino ghosts? And you accepted it? And you want us to believe that you’re happy with this arrangement?... Why, Hunter Boy? Because you got to gaze upon a hut made of stone, from afar, and then move on? Because you listened to a new song and ate a new meal?... No… The sun could set in the north, and it’d make more sense than this.”
Kitten paused, believing she was done, only to think of something else:
“And you even helped them to kill people like yourself? It’s treachery. Your story whiffs of rotten fish. Hunter Boy: You’ve lain with wolves, and you’ve caught their fleas.”
Kitten finished, for good this time, and awaited Hunter’s response. But Hunter was in no mood to rush. He was happy to play tricks with the silence; sucking down the aromas of charcoal, ash, burnt food and dried grass; gazing out at the silhouettes of distant hills, as they melted into the moonlight; and at the tops of ill-defined trees, whose borders were fuzzy with movement. He waited for a bird to land nearby, investigate its surrounds, have second thoughts, and take flight. And he waited for an animal to yowl.
“Auntie! Auntie Kitten! Ah, how I’ve missed our little mouse-and-eagle chats. Why, you haven’t changed a jot. I suppose you never will. This is your blessing, and this is your curse. Yes, auntie: Your blessing and your curse.”
The clans-folk waited for Hunter to answer the question. But their visitor just repeated these words, “Blessing” and “Curse”, until they sounded like distant echoes.
A drop of rain shook Hunter back to life:
“It’s an ‘Elephant who’s lost its trunk’? Ah! Maybe in the present-o. But we’re walking into the future. Change is coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it… Yes, I’d prefer it if the Sons of Empire weren’t so strong. And yes, I’d prefer to maintain our ancient ways. I’d prefer it if meat rained down from the ancestral realm, pre-cooked and seasoned to perfection. But such things aren’t to be. The Sons are coming. They will see, and they will conquer… I’ve chosen to be by their side; to be on the side of the conqueror, not the conquered; to be a winner, not a loser… And yes, Auntie Kitten: I may have worked my way up from the bottom. I may have performed degrading tasks. But I’m rising to the top. I’m one of the Sons’ ‘Representatives’. They’re rewarding me with land, with power, with everything I’ve ever craved.”
Hunter’s conclusion was said in such a low hush, he appeared to be talking to himself:
“Resistance… Is… Futile…”
He repeated this phrase three more times, staring into his chest; adopting a voice which was so quiet, his words seemed to melt into silence.
Kitten whispered her response in a voice which was almost as solemn:
“It was you, wasn’t it? It was you who slaughtered that clan? It was you who caused their river to turn ‘Red with blood’?”
Hunter did not deny it. He just muttered his old refrain:
“Resistance… Is… Futile…”
He bowed his head, took a breath, waited, waited a little more, shook himself alert, and resumed his address with a renewed sense of vim:
“But all is not lost-o. My brethren: I come baring gifts. I come with guns! Take them and flee. Make a life for yourself in the deepest depths of the bush. Yes! The other clans won’t be so lucky. No-one will offer them these things. You must take these splendid gifts. You must protect yourselves and flee.”
Hunter believed he had said enough. He had presented the “Indisputable facts”, and given the clans-folk a day to mull them over. He was confident they would see sense.
“A vote! Raise your hands if you wish to be safe!”
No-one moved.
Hunter scowled at Dawn.
But Dawn just shrugged:
“I’ve had a night’s rest, and it’s helped to clear my mind; to see things for what they are… I’ve decided to unite with the rest of the clan.”
Hunter turned to Sunny, scowling at him in the same manner as the previous day.
But this time, Sunny kept his arm by his side. His mother’s words were still ringing in his ears. And he did not appreciate the pressure which Hunter was applying.
But neither did he like the idea of being shamed. So he stood up and explained his predicament, before Hunter had the opportunity to expose him:
“Dearest aunties and beloved uncles… Sisters and brothers… I’ve got a confession to make… There’s a… There’s a reason I voted for Hunter’s proposal: He said if I didn’t, he’d tell you what I’d done…
“It’s just… Well, it’d be better if you heard it straight from the parrot’s beak. This secret is too heavy to carry.
“You see… Well, Hunter approached me a while back. He showed me the magic bow, with its magic arrows. And… Well, I was awed. But, you see… I thought it was a gift... Well, as soon as I took that magic bow… That gun… He put ten shots in my hand, and said I had to give him five large animals. And… Well, I only managed to kill three, and only one was to Hunter’s liking… So he gave me another ten shots, and said I owed him nine large kills. Now I’m in his debt and at his mercy.
“This is why I voted for his proposal.”
The group looked far from impressed. A transgender woman frowned so much, the lines on her forehead seemed to push against her skull. A young man bit the insides of his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker and crease.
After the customary pause, it was Serenity who cross-examined the defendant:
“You accepted a gift from an outsider, without seeking the group’s blessing?... Hmm… Dangerous. Very dangerous… Sunshine: You know what we say?... One finger cannot lift a pebble. A canoe doesn’t progress, when everyone rows in different directions.”
Sunny winced. He had not considered his behaviour to be “Dangerous”. People often took things from other clans, in much the same way that he had borrowed an ox. But those clans were members of the same tribe. Sunny had no idea that the very same acts could be considered “Dangerous”, when an outsider was involved.
“Yes, the ancestors know it to be true. Strangers can threaten our very existence. And so the clans-folk must scrutinise their proposals, as a collective, before they can be approved.”
Sunny nodded. It made sense. But how was he to know?
“Your actions weren’t only wrong. They were dangerous… Now, we have several protections, to shield us against such dangers: We could invite you to withdraw from clan meetings. We could invite you and your hut-folk to enter into exile. We could even ask you to return to the ancestral forest.”
Death? That seemed a little extreme.
“Child: Justify your deeds.”
Sunny could not.
But this time, he was not alone. Hope was rising to her feet, and she looked defiant; like a threatened animal, caught in a fight-or-flight situation; scared, but determined to save her life. Her eyes blazed red, reflecting the fire, and her chin jutted out like a weapon.
“I was with Sunny. And I’ll say this, with a hand on every spirit within me: The boy didn’t act with malice. There was no talk of a debt when he took this gun. Hunter spoke as if it were a gift, just as he spoke of gifts tonight. Sunny was foolish to fall into his trap. The boy is a Mister Simpleton, a vole among hawks, a squirrel-brained sloth. He’s a numskull, a blade of grass, an empty coconut. But he isn’t a Mister Malicious. He isn’t a Mister Dangerous Threat.”
Sunny did not know if he should be grateful or insulted. It must have involved a great deal of courage for Hope to speak out on his behalf, going against the prevailing mood. Hope was younger and smaller than almost everyone at this meeting. And she had come to his defence, whilst even his own mother remained mute. Yet she had humiliated him. Were her insults really necessary?
After another moment of silence, Sparrow concurred:
“The boy is like the buffalo who chased its tail, believing it to be a snake.”
The slurs rebounded around the circle:
“He’s the chicken who tried to hatch a stone.”
“The spider who got caught in its web.”
“The star who forgot how to twinkle.”
“The fish who drowned in water.”
“The bird who fell off its branch.”
“The ant who got lost.”
Sunny was beginning to understand. This was his protection. He was being humbled; brought back to earth, to restore harmony within the clan. Sunny had thought he could have the most powerful weapon, and use it to get more meat than anyone else; to become the clan’s most prolific hunter. His kinfolk were putting him back in his place. It was like when they insulted the meat, to keep a hunter modest. Only now, he was the meat.
But this did not resolve Sunny’s predicament. He still had a debt to re-gift.
When the insults faded, and everyone turned his way, he made a new proposal:
“If… If we can get the meat together… The nine animals… Then the debt would be cleared, and we’d be rid of this man for good. But… Well, I cannot do it alone… I mean… Perhaps I could, over the course of many seasons. But if you were all to help me, we could be rid of him in a twinkle.”
Sunny noticed that his mother was smiling.
Serenity tipped his head; a gesture which seemed as good as a question.
“I mean… This is the lesson I must learn? We help each other out of scrapes. We act as a collective?”
Almost everyone seemed to nod, apart from Dusk, who looked as though he was about to protest. He had pressed his palms to the ground and lifted his buttocks, such that they only just kissed the earth. Dawn looked like he was readying himself to disagree with whatever Dusk had to say. But Dusk bit his lip, Dawn’s face relaxed, and the group exhaled together.
A vote was taken, and it was agreed that the clans-folk would unite to re-gift Sunny’s debt. A second vote was held, and the clans-folk agreed never to accept gifts from Hunter again.
But it was Hunter who had the final word:
“You people are too sceptical, too stuck in your ways, and it’s going to cost you dearly.”
He took a rifle, laid it down on the ground, and placed a few shots by its side.
“You don’t believe me? No? Then take these. I’m not asking for anything in return. Factually: I only asked Sunny for that meat, so I’d have a reason to visit again. Keep your meat. Keep these shots and this powder. You’re going to need them. Ah, yes! Ingest my words: The Sons of Empire are coming. The… Sons… Of… Empire… Are… Coming…”
OUR ENDLESS NOMADIC DAYS
The drop of rain which landed on Hunter’s palm, may have been the first in several lunar-cycles, but it was not to be the last.
The clans-folk understood what it meant: The rainy season was upon them. Their leafy shelters would no longer keep them dry, and animals would no longer visit the watering hole. It was almost time to leave.
They dismantled their huts, bundled up the posts and bamboo, wrapped them in banana leaves, and stored them in the branches of a leafy tree, high above the ground. They filled their water vessels, packed their possessions, and headed in the direction of the tribe’s Big Camp.
