AmerIndian 2192
Page 20
CHAPTER 20
Elder John asked the question that had been rattling in his head since he saw Wovoka in the founder’s armor. “Celetain, what makes you sure this tribal is the man to lead us to the Homeland.”
Celetain padded her answer. “Honestly, it matters not what any of you think of Wovoka. I am within the rights of my position as Elder Shaman to declare the White Buffalo. I can tell you that I believe the vision was given to him because he is the one to lead us. I hear the Grandfather's voice in my appointing him.”
Weaver grimaced. “You are within your rights to appoint the White Buffalo, but surely you realize that this man can be nothing more than a figure head. We will have to guide him in his decisions. He has no experience at the game he is playing.”
Stormseeker leveled his eyes on Weaver. “None of us are playing a game here, Weaver. Celetain, I detest the way you are going about this. Too much secrecy, back hall dealings. However, despite my reservations, I trust your guidance and frankly I believe Wovoka is the White Buffalo. I have dealt with Pack Jade Dagger's work on several occasions. Wovoka is a tribal’s tribal. He works harder, smarter and faster than any of his men but demands they meet his example. I will give my full support.”
Kugan followed. “I find this situation too volatile. We are acting on emotionalism and superstition. Wovoka is a good man trapped in a bad situation.”
John folded his arms. “If we go forward with an action on Naanac, Wovoka is the White Buffalo and all of us will be bound by his decisions. We will become this man's advisors. We need to be helpful and not allow a power struggle to ensue.”
Wolf Plume stood and came to sit next to Wovoka. “It's a lot to take in, I know. Celetain has said the Grandfathers are moving us forward. You are part of that movement.”
Wovoka shook his head. “I was just thinking of Slow Turtle. Remember how he would spend all his wampum on us at The Cave. Steak, ale…” Wovoka laughed. “He spared no expense. But then if our next mission didn't come in quickly, he would be asking us for wampum and we ended up giving him more than he spent on us in the first place.” Wovoka slumped forward and tears rolled down his face. The droplets splashed on the hard wood floor. “Every tribal on those deflector ships meant the same to other tribals as Slow Turtle meant to me.”
Wolf Plume kept his hand on Wovoka's shoulder until his sobbing stopped. “Wovoka, Slow Turtle didn't die for you, he died for the AmerIndian Confederacy and for our Homeland. You would have done the same, given your life in service to the AmerIndian Confederacy. Those tribals on the deflector ships gave their lives so that we could feel solid ground under our feet, for a home where we can live in harmony with nature. Wovoka, I can feel the power of what is surrounding you. We have never been this close to the fulfillment of the Old Shaman prophecies and I believe what the Grandfathers are telling Celetain. You will lead the people to the Homeland. Do not cry for Slow Turtle. Remember him as a hero and do not waste the blood he gave for our Homeland.”
Wovoka looked up and Wolf Plume smiled at him and hugged him tight.Keokuk came back into the room. “I'm sorry, Wolf Plume. I need a moment with my brother.”
He nodded and left without argument.
Wovoka turned to Keokuk. “I always told you playing those space fleet simulations was a waste of time. Guess I was wrong.”
Keokuk grinned and thought back to the hundreds of hours he had spent playing fleet simulations on his comp set, hours spent alone in some dark corner of the Tsimshian lodge ship. In their teen years, Wovoka had urged Keokuk to get a grav board and join him Cavaho and Slow Turtle at the races. The fleet simulations had been an outgrowth of his love for comps and while he was now one of the top five programmers in the AmerIndian Confederacy, he had paid a price. He weighed over 120 kilograms at just two meters and in the AmerIndian Confederacy that was rare. Most of the other programmers had been able to balance their inactive work life with the mandatory vigorous exercise programs the Tsimshian tribe used.
In a small way, Keokuk was a victim of his own success. The Tsimshian chief had waived the exercises for him as Keokuk finished important project after important project. He was excused from so many exercise sessions that it became too difficult for him to keep up with the classes when he did attend. He was embarrassed and missed more classes.
Wovoka continued. “I was amazed at how much you knew.”
Keokuk shrugged. “I've dealt with projects from each Elder. Beating Lige was easy because he thought he was fighting against Stormseeker. He didn't understand my reactions in the proper context. It won't be easy next time.”
Sliver entered the room abruptly. “The Elders request your presence, Wovoka.”
Keokuk nodded to his brother as he left and thought about how much progress they had made to resolve their differences in such a short time. There was still the broken promise Keokuk had made to his father on his deathbed. There was still the fact that Keokuk patently rejected the Native American belief system in favor of Evangelic Christianity. However, working together toward a common goal was patching the wounds the two brothers had carried since Stone Rains’ death. Perhaps there was hope for a true reconciliation he thought to himself.
Wovoka shot upward on one of the lodge ship's automatic ladders. He had left Wolf Plume and Cavaho behind so he could speak with the Elders alone. For the first time he realized Pack Jade Dagger, his sole pursuit for the last eight years, was now in limbo.
The auto-ladder stopped at Deck 61 and Wovoka entered the Elm Room. It was one of several massive nature rooms the Diegueño kept. The room spanned twenty decks, seventy meters in height and three hundred meters in circumference. Magnificent elms stretched toward the ceiling and the room looked like a lush forest. A mammoth Grizzly walked toward Wovoka. It stood on its hind legs and roared, the sound shaking even the thickest of the elms. Wovoka froze.
John appeared suddenly between the bear and Wovoka. “Elle, you ate not more than an hour ago. Please don't be rude.”
The gargantuan bear fell to all four and loped to John. John ran his hand over the bear's furry forehead and the bear gave a low growl. “Now off with you, we will play later.” The bear turned and walked back to the trees. “Thank you for coming, Wovoka. Please follow me.”
He knew John spent many hours on the Diegueño lodge ships. The Elder Wisdom liked to think and write in their beautiful environments. Wovoka considered what he knew of the other Elders. John led him through a beautiful lightly trod path that ended in a small clearing. The clearing was covered with soft thick brilliant green grass. The other four Elders sat on rough-hewn stone benches and turned to face Wovoka and John. John sat and since there was no other bench Wovoka stood. Wovoka wore only his combat boots, black fatigue pants and a plain black shirt. He felt suddenly out of place, unimportant. He was a tribal. He did not belong here with these decision makers. The grandfathers had chosen the wrong man.
Celetain stood, “Wovoka, I am pleased to tell you the council has decided to invade Naanac immediately. Navcomps are calculating the correspondence planes now. We have all the material we need to build a chunnel large enough for Zeta class shuttles to get through to Naanac’s surface. Using Apache construction packs we will erect the chunnel in twelve to sixteen hours. That gives us a timetable of fourteen to eighteen hours for the invasion of Naanac. If we can get the chunnel up quickly we can get two hundred thousand tribals on Naanac’s surface in twenty-four to forty-eight hours. We are going to be extremely vulnerable to attack over the next two days. Everything relies on our ability to completely lock down outgoing communication. We are going to strengthen the guards against unauthorized communication before we announce plans for the invasion. Regardless, the situation will be volatile.”
“What role do I play in all of this?”
Stormseeker answered, “You are the White Buffalo. It is your responsibility to lead the tribals in war. You will provide strength and courage and you will go where you need armies to follow. You will lead the tribal
s through a river of blood to the Homeland.”
“Is the council unanimous on this decision?”
“No, we are not,” Morgan Weaver said. “I oppose this plan of action strongly.”
This surprised Wovoka.
Kugan spoke gently, “It is important, Wovoka, that you understand that the tribes will also not be unanimous on this course of action. Do whatever you can to encourage unity among the tribes.”
John rose. “We will be with you throughout.”
Wovoka understood the ramifications of what was about to happen. If the tribals were not convinced that Naanac was the Homeland, that Wovoka was the White Buffalo, there would be discord. Everyday was a struggle for the AmerIndian Confederacy, keeping nearly four hundred thousand tribals safe from over millions in the UDA military structure. The Elders were practiced at this task and things ran smoothly when the tribes worked in harmony. Discord put every tribal in danger. Wovoka fell in line with the Elders as they headed out give word to the tribes. He prayed Wambli would be with him.