Shaman Machine the Mentor

by Trenlin Hubbert

Staring at Joud with a steady gaze, Alex brought his drink near to his lips, where the glass floated without connecting. Instead of taking the sip, Alex thumped the glass back down. “You can be a real pill, Joud.” Again he played the glass, rolling it between his thumb and fingers. Laughing angrily, he added, “A real pill…I suppose you’re high on life. Is that it?” Lifting the glass, Alex threw back another swallow. This time the glass landed on the table with thwack. “Why so serious, Joud? You look like you need to take a dump.”

  “Why so hostile, Alex? Can’t we just sit here and relax? We had such a nice day on the waters.”

  “You know what? I get tired of being around closed minds, Joud. You’re sitting there judging me.”

  Unmoving, Joud chose silence.

  Alex laughed. “Don’t be an asshole, Joud.” Thrusting his half empty glass my way, he said, “Top it off, bot.”

  I stepped from the gloom to pour another. “Alex, I have a question,” I said.

  “Oh, you want to get in on this. Well ask away. I’m getting bored with our silent friend,” he said, indicating Joud with a clumsy sweep of hand.

  “Are hallucinogens and alcohol the same?” I asked.

  Alex swirled the clear liquid in his glass then frowned. Tossing his head back, he emptied the vessel. “No, bot, they are not the same. What’s your point?”

  “My point?” I pondered. “My point is to understand.”

  Eyes narrowing, Alex asked, “What are you trying to say, bot?”

  “Even though I do not eat, I understand the concept of replacing energy that has been used up…of recharging. The other substances that humans take in, specifically the mind altering substances are more mysterious, to me. I see in my readings that alcohol is utilized as a medicine and also as an intoxicant. Intoxication causes exhilaration; but is also a type of poison---”

  “Oh please do spare me of your limited logic! You are well outside the bounds of your hardwired brain!” Then noticing the glass he held in his fist, Alex rose up and swiftly flung it at me. The glass struck a glancing blow to my shoulder before careening out of sight. “You'd do well to keep your soulless observations to yourself!” Alex spat. Then he tripped on his abandoned chair; which he angrily kicked to one side before staggering away.

  Neither Joud nor I moved until the plod of heavy feet had finished. Waving me forward, Joud said, “Come sit with me, Chance.”

  Picking up the spilled chair, I sat then fingered the place on my shoulder where the glass had struck me.

  “Does it hurt?” Joud asked.

  I looked at him quizzically.

  “I notice you’re stroking your arm,” he said, “Does it hurt?”

  “No, I don’t believe so,” I said, desisting to rub the spot. “I sensed the impact; but I don’t interpret physical sensation as pain, or,” dropping my hand to the table, I said, “maybe the pain is…. The pain only exists in my mind. It pains me that I cannot understand.”

  Feeling a need to console, Joud said, “Chance, I don’t think his anger really had anything to do with you.”

  Startled by the statement, I said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Now, Joud looked confused. “Hadn’t thought of what?” he asked.

  “I hadn’t considered that Alex’ fear had anything to do with me,” I explained.

  “Now I’m totally confused,” Joud said. “Fear? Why do you say fear? Looked to me like a little drunken raging.”

  “Ziggy once told me that fear comes in many forms, including anger. And that the greater the anger, the more unconscious the source of the fear is likely to be. He cautioned me to show compassion whenever confronted by fear. So, I am endeavoring to understand, so that I may show proper compassion. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to understand without asking questions,” I explained.

  “People are clumsy communicators when they’ve been drinking, Chance,” Joud explained. “My advice is to wait until a person sobers up before asking anything important.”

  I said nothing else but couldn’t quite dispel my disquietude.

  Sensing distress, Joud said, “You can ask me questions, Chance.” He shrugged, “I don’t know if I have any answers; but I can try.”

  “Why do humans risk poison?” I asked.

  Joud blew air through his lips, and considered the question. “I’m not the best person to ask. Alex is right. I have my judgments. My guess is probably not much better than yours. I’m thinking about what you said: intoxicants can be both medicine and poison. Seems like a good clue. Too much medicine becomes poison.”

  “So, Alex is attempting to heal something?” I asked.

  Joud jerked his head in surprise. Smiling sadly, he conceded, “I suppose in a way he is. But instead of healing the illness, he is hiding it from himself.”

  I nodded, to let him know I was considering this idea. “Hiding from fear makes sense,” I acknowledged. “And if the fear is never faced there can be no healing. Consequently, there would never be an end to taking the medicine. And this can lead to poisoning?”

  Joud look at me oddly. “You consistently amaze me, Chance,” he said. “You have a real knack for seeing things hidden in plain sight. Huh.” Yawning, he announced, “Alright, I’m exhausted. Time to call it a day, Chance.”

  I watched the giant youth slip gracefully from sight. Now that both humans had retired, it was time for me to go swimming. Using the h-liner navigation lights to guide me, I ambled slowly to the stern. The black night obscured the vague line separating the sky from the sea. The whiffle of the wind skipping across the waves was a gentle indication of the liquid surrounds. Similar to humans my original vision system relied on reflected light received into my eyes. When maneuvering in the world above the surface of the water, I continued to rely on that original stereoscopic sight. But since my makeover, I had a second vision system.

  Diving off the stern of the boat, I entered into a lightless world. To see inside the darkness, I had a new 3D mapping system. Not only could I discern forms with my new laser vision, I could also detect exact size and exact distance. However upon entering the sea, I didn’t completely relinquish my use of light based vision. Though highly detailed, the standard laser imaging system only offered a black and white movie. So as an enhancement, the system I was outfitted with, also broadcast a wavelength that was specially tuned to excite the naturally occurring fluorescence produced by most, if not all, living organisms. Excitement, of fluorescence, provoked vividly glowing colors that I could see with my original two eyes. At present the wavelength was exciting the fluorescence on tiny bacteria. The fluorescing bacteria appeared to me as sapphire-blue pinpoints. Dotting the ocean in every direction, the bacteria brought to the surface of my memory, the nighttime sky of my desert homeland.

  Deeper I glided into the water; deeper than I’d ever gone; deeper than the day I’d fallen overboard. Eventually, I arrived to the top of an undersea mountain range. The place was teeming with life fluorescing flamboyantly. Lacking a specific assignment, I typically searched for compelling creatures to follow. This night, the first to engage me, looked like a drifting tangle of fuchsia yarn. I cut below the extensive creature then sliced a sharp u-turn, to follow in a slow motion pursuit. To examine the intricate entity, I drifted vertically as my dorsal plumage baffled against too much forward momentum. When I spied a throbbing beacon of pumping blue organs shimmering from a transparent body; I abandoned the pink tangle, in favor of the more quickly moving surrogate. Later, while chasing a squid spinning stormy eruptions in cyclones of red on its amazingly tiny body; I breached past the top of the water.

  Here at the ocean surface, I encountered what, logically, could not be a floating gray log. Though, certainly, the object behaved like a floating log. Curious, I approached the log; at which point something else rammed me with a glancing blow to the hip. At that moment the log became animate, whereupon I realized it was not a log. It was, instead, a respectfully large vertebrate.

  When the water began to churn I reali
zed there were two vertebrates, who were clearly unhappy with me. The pair sliced around me in an aggressive display of unpredictable intent. I managed to dance between them, though the three of us were reasonably well matched in size and swiftness. As the ballet continued to unfold, the vertebrate pair became vocal. They chattered in sharply falling notes of outrage. Inexplicably, I came to comprehend the complaint. One had been sleeping while the other kept watch. They were angry at the reckless intrusion. Strangely, the pair took turns leaping from the water into air. I was uncertain as to the intent behind this activity. It could have been a part of their performance; a tag team approach in a battle of bluster.

  Of one thing, I was clear. I did not want to fight. In a gambit to demonstrate harmonious intent, I began to copy the pair. Quick as lightening, after one came down, I made a leap into air exactly beside the other; performing the ensuing dive, as if a twin. As response to their sounds, I decided to mimic them; but sought to alter the aggressive tone. Whistling a simple tune, I used ascending notes rather than descending ones. With relative ease, I began to tease the two into a friendlier frolic. Somewhere along the way, as the three of us bandied about, I realized I was learning something completely brand new. I was learning how to play.

  Somewhere, the night fell away. The dawn of morning was imminent. In an awkward attempt to express myself, I offered an exaggerated bow followed by a sweeping turn. Hoping they’d understood my awkward signal of intent to depart, I sped off. Skimming along beneath the surface of the water on a direct route back to the h-liner, I considered the vertebrates.

  These were definitely sapient. Of this, I was absolutely clear.

  CHAPTER 32

  Cady was watching the approaching storm on the monitor when Kris trotted in to report, “The plunge is drained. The rods are dismounted. Solomon is on his way.”

  She engaged the lift, setting the height to maximum. The approaching storm was going to be a monster. Then she settled back in the captain chair and looked at Kris, still afraid to ask him.

  Kris could feel the question in her gaze. He knew what she wanted to know; but anyway he asked, “What, Cady?”

  A gloss of tears lit her eyes. “So…what was that all about? What were you thinking?!” Over a week had passed since their forced escape from the Seaweed Plain. Though Kris and Solomon had talked at length, Cady and he remained estranged on the subject of his apparent insanity.

  “I-- I can't really explain it, Cady. But I did do some research. Strange as it seems, it’s a well documented phenomenon.” His eyes begged.

  Her features trembled with hope battling doubt. Still, her words came out harsh. She said, “Really? So, suicide by seaweed is quite popular!”

  Kris persevered, “I was not trying to kill myself. It was a-- a-- compulsion. I believed, I could…press my feet into the green-- I-- I needed to feel the green ground beneath my feet.” Frowning miserably, he paused to consider. “I know it sounds crazy, Cady. Even to me, it seems…nuts! But the desire was so strong, my logical brain couldn't compete.” He slumped in shame. “There was no logical brain, Cady, only desire.”

  Desperate to understand, Cady said, “Help me out, Kris. Send me links. Will we need to tie you up every time? Are we all susceptible to this…this…?”

  WHUMP! The arrival of the wind was delivered as a blow. A deafening roar denied further dialogue.

  Kris mouthed the words, “What's keeping Solomon?”

  I was overwhelmed by a sea life avalanche. The confluence brushed past in a rush, leaving me to spin in captivity. To break free, I collided, jostled, and bumped crosscurrent to the mob. Reaching the edge of the maelstrom, I was pivoting to follow the crowd when, out of the blue, I was body blocked by one of the sapient vertebrates. The dolphin pummeled and pushed me. Soon it had bullied me, to travel in the direction from where the majority were fleeing. Recognizing the appeal to be urgent, I surrendered. After that, side by side, we dashed a rapid straight line ascent.

  Presently, we left the relative calm of the deeper water to enter a boiling turbulence. Now the ocean resisted us. It battered us. It tried to force us back. When finally we succeeded in punching past the membrane of resistance, the fickle flow sucked us into a swirling cocktail of sand, animals, and debris. No longer in control, we were cast to the surface, where a tempest tossed beneath a howling and angry sky. The dolphin pressed on, hurling itself forward using powerful leaps; it was a skittering stone across a chop of waves. In perseverance, I awkwardly attempted to imitate the litany of leaps. When the crisis blew into view, I understood the gravity.

  The man kept slipping from the dorsal fin, only to be born up again, by the desperate exertions of his determined savior. When lightening cracked open the void, I saw the hydroliner, distant but astride the storm tossed sea. Grappling the man by his hair, I relieved the two dolphins of their arduous mission. Flipping to my back, I faced the sky. Against the length of my body, I cradled the man, also face up. To guide the way, the dolphins drove close beside me. With determined strokes, I fought through waves piling against us. Spray and foam disguised the sky. Battered, I fought to hold tight to the dead weight of the unconscious man. At last I arrived to the ship, holding tight to my limp cargo. Keeping one arm clamped around the chest of the debilitated stranger, I used my other arm to hook onto one of the skis; but we were slicing through waves, too deep and too punishing. With the wind screaming threats, I slid off the ski to search for an alternate way into the craft. Well overhead, I caught sight of the emergency ladder billowing sideways in the gale.

  Broadcasting a voice that boomed, I belted out a command at the immobilized man. “Hold your breath!” I demanded.

  Possibly sensing a feeble intake, I dove. Down, down, down into the terror of water I pushed; then of a sudden, I turned and charged right back up. Into air, we shot. Through the angry darkness, we ascended. Perhaps it was the miracle of fate that let me catch hold of the flailing ladder with only one hand. Our weight collapsed the flapping ladder. Down we dropped, nearly to the surface of the churning sea. Hanging by an arm, I retracted my plumage while dragging a foot up and onto a rung. The ladder was difficult to climb. With the corpse-like body of the man weighting one arm, I inefficiently inched my other hand, up the side rope. As I struggled to make progress, the wind continued to bellow its threats. When finally my chin came level with the deck, I pressed with my chest against the unconscious man to hold him to the side of the boat while I struggled to readjust my grip. Finally succeeding to clutch the man by the top of one of his thighs, I hurled him to safety. He landed on the deck but lay there unmoving. Once aboard, I did not dare to stand, secure in the knowledge, I’d be blown back to sea. Crouching as low as I possibly could, I crawled toward the cabin portal while dragging the deadweight of my new found devotion. When the cabin portal slammed open, a woman and a man stared in obvious astonishment to see the slumped form of the stranger, and accompanied by me.

  Solomon’s eyes sat open, staring and empty. Kris flung himself at the man. While screaming at Cady to get a blanket, Kris began tearing at Solomon’s clothes with hands that were violently shaking. Angry with fear, he threw the clothes; first shirt, then pants then shoes; against the wall. Cady careened back into the room to drop a blanket over Solomon’s now naked form. Kris haphazardly tucked the cloth around the deathly still body while pleading for a miracle; while pleading for mercy. While Cady held Solomon’s head, Kris began to pump with both hands against Solomon’s chest.

  I witnessed the unfolding of the whole vivid scene. I saw the constant trickle of tears sheet across the contorted face of the woman. If she made sounds, I did not hear them. Whereas, the young man hysterically sobbed, reserving control only for the methodical urgings of his hands. The body of the unconscious man bounced, but not of its own volition.

  When Solomon shuddered and his eyes seemed to flutter, Kris, Cady and even I, all cried out with hope and desire. Pressing his lips against Solomon's blue pair, Kris successfully breathed him back into the
world. Shaking and disoriented, Solomon landed into consciousness. Hysterical with relief, Kris drew him into his arms to whisper reassurance into his ear. After that the lovers twined themselves into a single body while I told Cady about the unexpected circumstance of my encounter with Solomon. The men could not stop vibrating, the toxin of fear refusing to release them. With the storm not nearly spent, Solomon and Kris finally quit us; to retire to their quarters and collapse into sleep.

  Once the men had gone, I turned away from Cady too, intending to depart; but Cady pressed me to stay until the storm was at least partially abated. Despite my entreaties to take care, Cady refused to go to bed; even when relief left her drained of strength and empty of thought. So she led me to a small couch, where we sat down together to silently wait through the passing of the storm. After a time, Cady reached out and took my hand. Her hand was small, so I wrapped mine around it with no real understanding of why we did this thing. For a period of time we sat just like that, not even looking at each other.

  I heard the sound of her breath change when she slumped over against me. She’d finally succumbed to sleep. When she slipped forward, I caught at her shoulder. As I tried to prop up her fragile body, I determined that cradling her in my arms was the least disruptive option. For the remainder of the night, I watched the human sleep. As daylight drew near, her eyes drifted open. Her memory apparently clear, she did not startle; rather she rolled slowly onto her feet then watched when I dove back into the sea.

  Kris and Solomon were still asleep. Since the departure of the bot, Cady hadn’t moved from where she’d stood when it reentered the water. While watching the sun wash the mist to a golden glow, she communed with her feelings of deep gratitude. She inventoried all the amazing things that had transpired since she’d come to Varun. Everything seemed very dreamy. An explosion of water broke her trance.

  “Oh my God,” she screamed, as a dolphin flew into the air, nearly close enough to touch.