AmerIndian 2192

by J. Scott Garibay

CHAPTER 17

  “Wear it?” shouted Keokuk. “You are out of your mind! Stormseeker himself carried Potlatch Weaver's body back in that body tank. Stormseeker installed that body tank in that display case himself thirteen years ago. No one has touched it since the founder's death. Celetain herself said she believes the armor is sacred. Half the tribes will believe it is an insult to the Grandfathers, let alone the Creator. You are out of your mind!”

  Sliver waited patiently for Keokuk's tirade to end before he spoke. “The fact that he experienced the vision does not give him the right to wear the Creator's armor. The fact that he is the White Buffalo gives him the right.”

  Wovoka interrupted, “I am not the White Buffalo.”

  Sliver glanced at the doorway. Two acolytes were now entering. The huge bay door rolled shut at the wave of one acolytes' hand.

  Keokuk frowned. He had never seen that door shut in all the times he had been to the Brule lodge ship. The armor was on display for all tribals at all times.

  “You are the White Buffalo. Celetain has seen it and she will proclaim you the White Buffalo tonight.”

  Keokuk reeled, “What? The Elder Shaman only proclaims the White Buffalo after he has won many battles for the AmerIndian Confederacy, only after every tribal and every Elder is screaming his name to be the White Buffalo.”

  Sliver nodded. “Bull Red River put his stamp of approval on both Tycho Scalper and Wolver Fuller, but neither of them were truly the White Buffalo. If they were, we would be standing on grass, not plasteel. Celetain has seen that Wovoka is the White Buffalo.” Sliver stepped closer to the two of them. “Celetain Prax is the greatest Elder Shaman in the history of the AmerIndian Confederacy. She alone has seen the reality that will take us to our Homeland. There are many tribals that are going to question Celetain Prax and Wovoka. If this is going to succeed neither of you can be one of those tribals. Keokuk, I am concerned by your adherence to Evangelical Christianity. Personally, I am shocked that someone of your intelligence could believe in such an exclusionist, divisive religion and I would prefer not to deal with you. However, Celetain has foreseen that Wovoka will need your support. You must accept what I am saying as truth for now.” Sliver backed away.

  Keokuk looked down and then moved in front of Wovoka.

  He looked into his brother's eyes and after a moment nodded. “My Christianity has been one of several wedges between us since father’s death. ‘Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness.’ I will be the first to serve you as the White Buffalo. My doubts in Cybershamanism and the AmerIndian belief systems are the same as they ever were but my doubts in you are gone, brother.” Keokuk held his arms out wide and the two embraced.

  Sliver walked closer to the display. “Give me a hand.” The three of them gingerly lifted the body tank out of the case and set it down on the floor a few meters away. Wovoka looked shaken. Sliver and Keokuk helped Wovoka don the Creator's armor.

  Shoeless Joe, one of several Apache lodge ships at the Steel Circle, positioned itself to transmit easily to the rest gathered lodge ships. On a lower deck, Elder Kugan adjusted his three-button suit and spoke evenly. It was unusual to hear the staid Elder speak. He rarely spoke on anything but financial matters. “The Elders have given this a great deal of thought and consideration. We have consulted those who know the concerns involved and have weighed the various aspects of the plea. We have decided to grant the request for a clone tribe.”

  Shouts rose from every gathering room on every lodge ship.

  “Please, hear me out. There are many challenges that this decision will bring about. Clones fill crucial positions in every tribe and strong replacements must be trained to fill the void that will be created by the creation of the Crow, the tribe of clones. The two lodge ships given to the Crow will come from the Nez Perce and the Apache.”

  The speaking request bubble filled immediately. Stormseeker interrupted.

  “I wish for Torquan to speak.” Any Elder could grant a tribal speaking time.

  Torquan stood. “Elder, I have made a fool of myself. I expressed anger against the Elders when none was warranted. We thank the Elders for their wisdom and kindness.”

  Stormseeker smiled and stood. “I have been a strong opponent of a clone tribe because of the division I believed it would cause. I have given an open ear to my Elder brothers and sisters.” Celetain nodded and Stormseeker continued, “I have realized there are divisions between every tribe. The Brule are never unarmed and yet not a single Haida holds a weapon while on their lodge ship. The Diegueño struggle to retain all that is natural in themselves and their surroundings and the Tsimshian embrace technology intimately. We have divisions in so many aspects of our lives, and yet, when it comes to our blood we are one and there are no divisions. I have come to believe that everyone who has fought, who has worked, who has sacrificed for the AmerIndian Confederacy is true blood, regardless of their ancestry.” Stormseeker clapped Wisdom Elder John on the back. His oak coloring contrasted with John’s black skin, but their smiles showed the same joy.

  The gathered tribals on all of the lodge ships surged to their feet with thunderous applause, acknowledging a critical point in AmerIndian Confederacy history. Stormseeker had long supported separationist AmerIndian policies. He had encouraged tribe chiefs who purported there were two classes of AmerIndian Confederacy citizens, true bloods (first in line for key positions) and non-bloods (helpful and welcome partners of the true blood). True bloods had long been defined as those who had a quarter or more of AmerIndian blood. Non-bloods included the Russian, Japanese, African and Europeans who served the AmerIndian Confederacy. Slowly the debate over true blood and non-blood service was breaking down to the position that AmerIndian blood was more than heritage, it was loyalty and dedication to the principals the AmerIndians espoused.

  Stormseeker accepted the applause and deftly called for a close of discussion on the Clone tribe issue. When the closing comments had been made, Celetain stood.

  The Elder Shaman was silent for a moment and she turned slowly to look at all the tribals gathered. Her hand stabbed out, stopping at a Tsimshian. She pointed at him until he stopped looking from side to side. Her voice was cold.

  “Who am I?”

  The man's face wrinkled and a moment passed before he said, “Celetain Prax, Elder Shaman of the AmerIndian Confederacy.”

  Her hand remained on him and the man added, “Daughter of Morningstar Prax.”

  “Who am I?” her voice was level.

  “Celetain Prax, Elder Shaman of the AmerIndian Confederacy” the man said again, louder this time.

  “This Tsimshian knows who I am. I call forward a respected Infiltrator of the Apache tribe. He has experienced a true vision and I bring him forward to show every tribal what he has seen, a clear message from the Grandfathers to all the tribes.”

  Tribals on thirty lodge ships sat up. The tribals knew whatever this Infiltrator was bringing would be special. Celetain was the interpreter of visions. Dozens of tribals came to Celetain every year with reports of visions. She turned away many, declaring their dreams and foretelling as false visions. She denied messages that were self-serving or that advocated actions alien to the AmerIndian Confederacy. In the two years Celetain served as Elder Shaman she had only brought forward two tribals to share a vision.

  The first had been a child who foretold the loss of Sweet Six, a lodge ship that was disintegrated by the first use of the UDA Hellfire weapon. She had forewarned the AmerIndian Confederacy that a lodge ship would be lost. She urged everyone to brace themselves for the impact of the occurrence. The vision had steadied the tribals for what proved to be a devastating blow after the White Earth Massacre.

  The second tribal was a Caucasian female recruit from a mining outpost who predicted victory at Trewellyn. Trewellyn was a plane gate that fired every hour between the colonies Freedom and Privilege. While the UDA could not officially disallow the building of a plane
gate after Rowan won an important court battle, it did everything possible to stop the building of the gate (because Rowan had sheltered its future profits from significant taxes). The Brule, hired as mercs, won a brutal battle to give time for the gate to be built. Rowan Cartel successfully rallied the Galaxy Congress to claim the gate as a unity fixture, which meant no military actions could be taken within five hundred thousand kilometers except to defend the gate.

  The AmerIndian Confederacy had already been paid billions for eighteen months of merc work on the project and they waived another year's pay in exchange for the promise of one thousand Nagaspheres per year for the next thirty years from Rowan. Rowan was still keeping that promise six years later, although the Elders were concerned with how Wovoka’s recent reconnaissance mission to Naanac could change that arrangement.

  The doors at the end of the hall rolled open and Wovoka appeared. He walked slowly and the clack of the large blasteel boots rang through the hall. The hush allowed the sound to echo. On Heidegger, the Zuni sat speechless. There were cries of outrage heard on Nez Perce lodge ships. A small skirmish broke out on the Brule lodge ship as Pack Alphas pushed back a throng of tribals trying to get out of the meeting room and to a shuttle. It was evident the Brule tribals planned to personally come and pull Wovoka out of the founder's armor. None of them looked like they would take the time to open the body tank first. Just lop the head off and pull the rest of Wovoka out in chunks.

  Wovoka stood in the middle of the Elders. All save Celetain were as stunned as the rest of the tribals. Wovoka looked around and realized Stormseeker was busy trying to decide which of his weapons to use take out Wovoka first. Wovoka started quickly.

  “I am Wovoka, son of David Stone Rain and member of the Apache. I come before you to relate a true vision. I experienced it on Naanac when my pack went there on our last mission. We were sent there to scout a habitable planet that has been secretly held by Rowan Cartel for six years. I was descending a mountain, suspended sixteen hundred meters above sea level completing a geo-survey. I stopped to take a break before I continued. Below me, not more than five meters, I heard the sound of bone against stone. I looked down to see a large creature. In many ways it resembled the arachnids of Earth but it was three meters across. It had six legs, a torso a meter wide and was covered with fur. I began to draw my weapon when I realized that the creature was not after me, it was intent on something else.

  Wovoka stepped away from Stormseeker. “I watched as it skittered across the rock face to a nest. It was the nest of a Creose, a Naanacian bird. The Creose's nest was built from a bramble of sticks and twigs in the shape of a dome. The creature approached the nest and smacked at it with its claw. Instead of breaking, the nest flexed. The creature clawed again and again at the nest and each time the nest flexed with the blow. The creature became angry and climbed up until it nearly sat on top of the nest. It reared and I watched as it prepared to crush the nest with all of its mass. With speed and accuracy the Creose ducked its head through a small hole in the nest. With it's beak the Creose plucked an eye out of the creature's skull. Three of the creatures six legs lost hold of the mountain. It fell, battering itself against the rock face of the mountain. Several of its legs snapped off. That is what I saw.”

  Celetain stared at the crowd challenging anyone to interrupt her presentation. She pointed at a tribal in the crowd again, “What is my role?”

  The young girl she pointed to answered in a bold voice, “You are the Elder Shaman, Guide for the AmerIndian Confederacy in all spiritual matters. You interpret visions.”

  Celetain made the girl repeat the words and she looked directly at Stormseeker (furious now). “Then interpret I will. Wovoka and Pack Jade Dagger were sent to Naanac with a tight mission window. This was not due to the normal level of urgency attached to most AmerIndian Confederacy military ventures. The Free Mantle, a two-kilometer layer of free-floating asteroids, surrounds planet Naanac. The nest in Wovoka’s vision represents the asteroid field, the Creose represents the AmerIndian Confederacy and the UDA is the creature. On White Earth we struggled in vain, left blood on fields that would never be our Homeland. Naanac is the Homeland. The Homeland we will take and the Homeland we will keep. It is the Homeland foretold of in Okala’s Prophecies. Of this, I am certain.

  “White Earth was to serve as a stepping-stone to reclaiming our forefather’s Homeland, the North American continent on Earth. That land is not and will never be the Homeland of AmerIndians. Naanac is our Homeland. I know what I say is shocking and what I propose will mean massive change for the AmerIndian Confederacy. I speak now on the part of the Grandfathers. Today before every tribal I declare Wovoka, White Buffalo. He is the fulfillment of Okala’s Prophecies and will lead to possession of our Homeland within three days.”

  Every tribal was silenced.

  Stormseeker exploded, “You can not declare this man the White Buffalo. The prophecy states that the White Buffalo will be declared as the tribes are in battle.”

  Celetain stepped forward and put her hands on Stormseeker's gleaming armor. “You are right. Wovoka is declared the White Buffalo now because we are in battle.”

  The words fell from her lips as klaxons began to wail. “Fleet detection. Fleet Detection,” the comp convoy server warned. “Engagement in six minutes.”

  Lige screamed, “Holy Baal, guaranteed three minutes of battle! Lets make it count. Eisenhower and Powell, you are to adjust by six degrees, swing wide for flanking.”

  Remigius had been right. The Steel Circle sat just 220,000 kilometers outside the effecting distance of the water planet. Lige longed for more time than he was about to get but it was enough to kill at least a few lodge ships, maybe more. That alone was reason to rejoice.

  “Reagan, Hoover and Melbourne, triangulate for Hellfire at coordinates 31449.”

  The communications officer barked without looking up from the wall screen. “Deflector ships are moving into position now.”

  “Triangulate for Hellfire.” Lige gave the order without emotion. “Paxton, Grellion and Brown, triangulate for Hellfire at coordinates 99742. Smith, Bates and Jomorian triangulate for hellfire at coordinates 87246.”

  The voice of Captain Telbor carried over the room from Paxton, “Coordinates are in conflict, repeat, coordinates are in conflict.”

  “Execute command, Paxton. Execute command,” Lige stated firmly.

  The captain could be heard laughing. “Repeat, coordinates are in conflict.”

  “First sergeant of Paxton on Screen,” Lige said. A view of the Paxton bridge appeared on a third of wall screen.

  “First sergeant, activate your sidearm and execute Captain Telbor immediately.”

  A moment of quiet confusion passed and then the first sergeant's sidearm was out and Telbor was looking into his eyes. It had happened quickly and Telbor looked as though he didn't believe what he was seeing. Suddenly Telbor’s face twisted and he fumbled at his holster. When he pulled the strap off his own sidearm the first sergeant squeezed and his gun reported.

  Telbor's face melted into the five-centimeter hole bored through his head. His body slumped to the floor. The first sergeant turned reluctantly to the camera drone.

  Lige said, “Thank you, First Sergeant. Execute command.” None of the ships Lige had commanded had diverted course on the initial order. All nine prime ships smoothly flowed into ordered coordinates now. The ships were lined up in triangular sets, each set following ten kilometers after the other.