AmerIndian 2192

by J. Scott Garibay

CHAPTER 33

  Alexa shook her head to dispel the queasiness she felt after traveling through a correspondence plane. She peered out the bridge windows and jumped when she saw a pattern of Jet Tigers streaking past her UDA prime ship. Her comp set beeped and she finger tapped to listen. “You are in AmerIndian Confederacy controlled space. State your reason for being here.”

  Alexa grinned. “I am Alexa Sullivan, member in good standing of the AmerIndian Confederacy, Diegueño tribe. My ship is carrying important cargo for the AmerIndian Confederacy. I also carry an important message for the Elder Council.”

  Silence. “Welcome home, Alexa. Prepare for docking. We will send a pack over to search the ship. If all is as you say we will escort you to the surface of the AmerIndian Homeland, Naanac. The cargo will stay in orbit, for now.”

  Autumn Sky led the search of the ship and then escorted Alexa to her pack's shuttle. The shuttle hit the chunnel at speed and the view amazed Alexa. She had never seen anything like the free-floating asteroid field surrounding Naanac. The chunnel cored through the maelstrom of flying rock. The shuttle passed through the end of the chunnel and Alexa saw only grey as they shot through a kilometer thick cloud. Suddenly her view was filled with the grey green forests and black mountains of Naanac. The colors were drab, muted, but the planet had it's own unique beauty. Streaking down, the shuttle passed over the teeming camp that stretched for ten kilometers in a wide circle. The shuttle hovered directly over an area where tribals were conducting a barbecue. Finally, tribals poured water on the fire and grabbed up the meat to go find another spot as the shuttle set down.

  “This is incredible,” Alexa said to Autumn Sky.

  “Yes, it is history in the making. The people are in love with the land already. Come.” Autumn Sky led Alexa and the pack down the steps of the shuttle. Alexa's took in the delicious smell of roasting meats. Tribal drum music could be heard from different directions. Alexa felt joy all around her. She took in the sights, smells and sounds of people making and enjoying a home. Tribals trotted by on horses and two dark skinned boys chased a wet puppy, the ground squishing under their feet.

  Autumn Sky led Alexa to a large tent. Under the well-staked tarps a small fire crackled and Wovoka, Keokuk, Stormseeker, and John sat eating. The men talked low and their mood was somber in stark contrast to those surrounding them. Autumn Sky approached and John noticed her. “Yes, Autumn Sky?” The others looked up as Alexa stepped forward.

  Elder John jumped to his feet. “We were worried about you. Where were you taken? How did you escape? Oh, excuse me. Please, sit down.”

  Alexa took the place next to John. “I was captured on the Dorimian excursion due to the betrayal of Zuni Snow Blind. She is a double agent for the UDA and the reason for our defeat at Nomar Hax. Lige held me as prisoner for, I think, three months. He cloned me.”

  Elder John nodded, “Cloned you? We thought you were dead.”

  “I had a friend who came to see me each day at the cell where I was being kept. He helped me… Actually there was no help involved. He single handily facilitated my escape.”

  Stormseeker’s suspicious gaze fell on Alexa. He suspected Alexa was a clone sent by Lige. Stormseeker, as an Elder, respected customs. He could not challenge Alexa. The simple DNA test that could be completed in moments could not be asked of any tribal. The tribes lived under the idea that clones were human in every way. If Alexa was a clone, it mattered not. All that mattered was if she was loyal and that could only be shown by actions.

  “Ah, a traitor in Admiral Lige's ranks.” John grinned. “Your 'friend' was Dark Strider, a deep cover Zuni that has served on Black Mariah for four years now. He is a brave warrior. I am glad he was there for you.”

  Stormseeker nodded in agreement.

  “No, Elder John. It was Jaret Tucker, Lige’s right hand.”

  “The Kentucky Fried Samurai? That's impossible,” Stormseeker frowned.

  “It is the truth, Elder Stormseeker. He killed no less than ten UDA soldiers getting me off Black Mariah. He set up a prime ship to correspondence jump from a hundred meters off Black Mariah’s stern. The correspondence jump was calculated for Earth but the proximity to the other fleet ships set it off and I came out near Pluto. An ice tug came across my ship and picked me up. The captain was Humanitace. He brought me to Humanitace HQ in the periphery.”

  “The periphery,” Keokuk said, surprised.

  “Yes. I'm not sure where. I met with Octavias, the leader of Humanitace and he gave me both cargo and a message. The ship I came in is carrying a thousand Nagaspheres. Humanitace has been our anonymous benefactor all along.”

  Elder John's hands dropped into his lap. “The Nagaspheres have been coming from Humanitace. We may not be able to use them this time, knowing the source.”

  Stormseeker locked his eyes on Alexa. “What message did Octavias give you?”

  Alexa hesitated. “Octavias wants to call in a marker for the thousands of Nagaspheres they have supplied and for what they are supplying now. Octavias wishes the AmerIndian Confederacy to grant Humanitace an embassy on Naanac, twenty square kilometers of land, at any place we choose. Octavias says his people will live by our laws and no military presence will be kept here. In exchange we get an additional one thousand Nagaspheres a month and one hundred next-gen clone birth chambers with ten to follow every year there after. He wants this to tie our organizations in a bond of peace. If we refuse he has an alternative offer for Admiral Lige.”

  The group let the news wash over them. Alexa noticed the absence of Celetain, but decided not to ask.

  Stormseeker was the first to speak. “There is no question here. Octavias is a terrorist. We do not condone his methods or support his goals. His offer leads down a dangerous road. Every hour we hold this planet cements our process from being a band of thieving rebels to a legitimate intergalactic government. If we deal with Octavias we lose credibility with the UDA colonies, outposts and elements in the Periphery.”

  John looked at Stormseeker and grinned. “Fine line between terrorist and freedom fighters, we of all people know that. We have an opportunity to make a powerful ally or give our greatest enemy one. The very fact that we have this planet demands we accept the terms. We need supplies. We will not have the luxury of cut and run raids anymore. The steady flow of Nagaspheres will be invaluable. From a practical standpoint, we need those supplies.”

  Wovoka interjected, “Octavias knows that, which makes us vulnerable. I agree with Stormseeker, we need to back away from this on principal. It is a deal with a dark spirit.”

  Keokuk shook his head. “It's really not that simple. Those supplies are critical. Elder John is right we can't be stealing from the UDA if they are to recognize us as a sovereign intergalactic government. If we are to have peace. If our ships stop moving, we lose the ability to defend ourselves, trade and communicate.”

  Wovoka came back fast at his brother, “Trade and communicate what and with whom. This planet is our natural home, balanced and in harmony. How much trade and communication do we need with the UDA or Periphery?”

  “Don't be naive,” John said in a surprisingly harsh tone. “Defense must now replace our offense. We will need allies. Diplomacy and establishing an intergalactic political presence-”

  “Intergalactic political presence? For Wambli's sake, you sound like a UDA spin doctor,” Stormseeker spat.

  John leveled his hands. “I am simply saying we need to be realistic and make our decision with all concerns addressed, not just a knee-jerk reaction.”

  “It is out of the question, this is beyond discussion, we have been on this land for not even a day and you want to make a treaty for our land. Well, make sure you get a whole lot of shiny beads.” Stormseeker threw his heavy mug into the fire. Embers kicked up and swirled in the slight breeze. He walked off pushing his aid aside. The rest sat quietly.

  John frowned, “Celetain's absence is hurting us. She calmed him. We all need to part and give
this some thought. Lets meet in the new Elder Hall in three hours. We'll make a decision then. Keokuk, I want you to inform all of the chiefs and Celetain of what is going on.” Keokuk nodded and left immediately to complete the task given him.

  Wovoka walked aimlessly, taking in the blur of activity of base camp. He could see some tribes were considerably busier than others. The Apaches, the Confederacy's builders, were pressed, breaking out construction tools, planning. A pack of Apaches made quick work of cutting down a tall jungle tree with a diamond-coated moly-saw. Despite the fact that the moly-saw was not powered, the tool was efficient. Other tribals carried off sections of trees to a lodge house already half done.

  Wovoka looked over at a group of Zuni. The tribals sat quietly, a few rechecking inventory. They looked out of place here on Naanac. Their espionage skills had been invaluable in acquiring this planet and now settling it, their expertise was next to useless. Wovoka could see the challenge they all faced. Warriors could quickly grow distant from those they protected. Wovoka sighed. He saw the obvious joy of the tribals here and knew defending a home would not be an impossible transition from fighting for one.

  There was so much to do, so much to decide, and the decisions were critical. Too much tolerance from the Elders and chiefs could ruin the AmerIndian Confederacy's chances of successful settlement on Naanac. Wovoka wiped moisture from his face. He continued to walk, preoccupied in thought.

  “White Buffalo?”

  Wovoka looked down at a young man. A teen, he judged. It was hard to tell with tribals who came over from UDA colonies or outposts after years of age-affecting Xanic drug use.

  “Wovoka, tribal. Wovoka,” he corrected.

  “Oh, no, sir. I'm not a tribal, not yet. But I will be soon. My name is Derek. Autumn Sky told me what you did to get us here and I wanted to thank you. I lived on UDA outpost New Angelos all my life. I belonged to an underground AC sympathizer group that helped transfer messages to and from the shipbuilding outpost. We were really just a group of kids, I suppose. I have never seen an animal bigger than a dog, and I didn’t see many of those. But I read about them. This is an opportunity I dreamed about. I want to thank you. I’m looking forward to a life with something other than Xanic and fourteen hours of wall screen viewing a day. Thank you.”

  Wovoka smiled. “I am glad you could make it, Derek. I know this can all be very intimidating. It is a lot of change, all at once. Come with me.”

  Wovoka walked slowly and pointed out AmerIndians of different tribes to Derek, telling him how to differentiate them. Wovoka stopped at a small tarp. Underneath, a group of boys were shooting razor tipped arrows at targets twenty meters off.

  “Torque,” Wovoka called. “This is Derek. He traveled galaxies to get here. Served among the Ghosts before he came to us. Make him at home.”

  Torque smiled and walked over to Derek and embraced him. “Welcome, brother. I bet the closest you've ever come to using a bow is on a wall screen game of Eternal Warrior. Am I right?”

  Derek laughed, “Yeah.”

  “Well that's about to change, brother.” One of the other tribal youths handed Derek the bow. Derek smiled and joined the boys. Wovoka watched and his melancholy dissolved. Wovoka saw the beginning of the end and the end of the beginning.

  Cavaho looked up at the sound of someone approaching. Contemplation cells were kept dim and after twenty-four hours his eyes were sensitive to light. He pulled himself up fast and Wolf Plume offered a hand, which Cavaho ignored. Wolf Plume noticed a pressure suit in the corner of Cavaho's cell. He guessed tribals had brought suits to those in the contemplation cells. “You stayed in this cell even after the power went off and on? By Wambli, you are a stubborn blackguard. Wovoka is down on Naanac now. The Ghost Dance was effective. Naanac is ours.”

  Cavaho stood and exited the cell ahead of Wolf Plume. He set a steady pace, leaving the old dog behind him.

  “The dance took its toll on Elder Celetain, however. She is in a coma.”

  At this Cavaho stopped, listened.

  “She's on Naanac at the temporary Haida lodge house, surrounded by Haida healers.”

  Cavaho continued to stare at Wolf Plume.

  “What?” Wolf Plume asked.

  Cavaho turned and ran to the release area of the contemplation cells. Impatiently, he collected his gear and hurried to the nearest grav platform. He pulled his keying bands on and finger tapped the command for the platform to drop. In moments he was near the bottom of the lodge ship making his way through the hangars toward a Jet Tiger. He quickly keyed in a request to set up a release for the fighter to go through the chunnel and down onto Naanac.

  Cavaho monkey swung on the gantry out to a prepped Jet Tiger fighter. He finger tapped a fighter authorization for his position as an Infiltrator (and noticed Wovoka’s ascension to White Buffalo had increased his access to AC resources considerably). Cavaho carefully piloted the bristling Jet Tiger passed the grav interior shield in the hangar bay and out into open space. Cavaho opened the throttle and blasted toward the chunnel entrance.

  Despite his haste it took the choice-mute another hour to set the fighter down and find the new Haida lodge house. The lodge house was only three quarters finished and large cloth blankets sewn together with loose plexi-line covered one end of the building. Cavaho approached and glared at the two Haida tribals sending well-wishers away. Nilva, a traditional shaman, had healed Cavaho more than once and recognized him. She stood before the make shift flap in the blankets, blocking his entry. “Cavaho, how can we help you?”

  Cavaho stood motionless, frustration building. Cavaho succeeded in his extreme lack of communication because he cared for nothing but his service to Wovoka. It mattered not what food Cavaho ate, what equipment he was given, what mission he was assigned to. None of it mattered. He served Wovoka and there was no more discussion needed between Wovoka and Cavaho than between Wovoka and the spanning tool he used to gap cryo-filters on the Trighter. Now Cavaho was being challenged, severely.

  The young silent warrior had sat in the dark alone for the last twenty-four hours thinking about why he had hurt Celetain. In the emptiness of his contemplation cell there had been no way to avoid the answer. Cavaho had hurt Celetain because she had tried to reach out to him. What now frustrated Cavaho was that he wanted to reach out to her. Now Celetain lay injured, hurt by who knows what forces.

  When Cavaho continued to stand not answering, the Haida healer did what almost everyone did for Cavaho. Spoke for him. “Did you want to see one of the Acolytes? They are all very busy.” Cavaho closed his eyes for a moment and then looking Nilva in the eye, took her hand. He held it and nodded. She stepped aside and he walked past.

  He made his way through the congested lodge house toward the center. He squeezed his way through, being careful not to jostle anyone. The center area was thronged with healers. Celetain's bodily sacrifice had cemented the victory over the UDA. The Elder Shaman had handled more power than had been manifested in five centuries. Her acolytes were all here, their normal stoic calm now replaced with nervousness and anger. Two acolytes argued with Nez Perce medics. The Nez Perce doctors wanted Celetain taken off Naanac and brought to the intensive care unit on lodge ship Yamato. The doctors argued that the Acolytes had failed to help her over the last six hours and had, in fact, done her harm.

  The dance had affected Celetain's Acolytes. Four had died at the moment of the Ghost Dance's release, killed by the overflow of power that Celetain channeled. The remaining Acolytes were tired and confused when they rushed to help her. The Acolytes had tried to bring Celetain out of her coma with an algorithmic cleansing ritual. When they were done Celetain could not breathe and had to be resuscitated by Nez Perce medics.

  Cavaho squeezed his way forward and caught Creta's eye. Creta had been the only Acolyte that did not attempt to pull Cavaho off of Celetain when he embraced her. Creta grabbed Cavaho's hand. “You came. You must see her. Perhaps your presence will help.”

&nb
sp; A huge weight lifted off Cavaho's shoulders. This was what he came for and he had known someone would have to do the talking for him. Give him what he wanted without asking for it. To see Celetain, help her. It often surprised him the effort people expended to put words into his mouth, the urgent help his silence often produced. Creta pulled him forward.

  Cavaho saw Sliver heatedly arguing with a Nez Perce. “That was hours ago. We are rested and ready to care for her ourselves. I will not discuss this further. She remains here,” Sliver was close to the face of the tall Nez Perce.

  “Chief Rail has charged us to care for her. We will take her where she can be helped efficiently. You will release her. An Acolyte does not supersede the wishes of a chief. The Acolytes will be given unlimited access to her on Yamato. Now certainly you realize we are being reasonable.”

  Sliver near growled. “You think your chief has any say over the care of the Elder Shaman-”

  Sliver's eyes lighted on Cavaho. The Nez Perce stepped back; alarmed to see Sliver could possibly get angrier than he already was.

  “You! You've already had your chance to hurt her. On your way, grunt.” Sliver, frayed at the ends, spoke with derision.

  Creta raised a hand. “No, no, Sliver. Celetain wanted to see him the other day and I believe his presence could help. Let him through.”

  “You are insane, Creta. This man will not be the first thing the Elder Shaman sees when she wakes. She jailed him, for Wambli's sake. Take him away!”

  Another Acolyte stepped forward, “Sliver, I believe she is right. The Elder Shaman's reaction to this man was strong. It cannot hurt to let him see her.”

  “Do not question me now! Cavaho, go back to whatever gun port you crawled out of.”

  Cavaho's lips curled back slightly. He lifted his hand and motioned for Sliver to step aside.

  Sliver grinned mockingly. “No, grunt, hand gestures and scowls will not suffice as communication with me. A smile or a nod would have spared the Elder Shaman many tears, but you were too proud.” Sliver continued like a grav train with too much momentum to stop, he bared his teeth in open defiance to Cavaho. “Now move on, grunt. I got more to worry about than the likes of you right now. Unless, perhaps, you can act like a normal human being and simply ask to see her. Say her name and I will let you pass.”

  Cavaho's oath of silence was not a secret among the tribals and had become widely known since Wovoka’s rise to prominence. Everyone in the room remained still, waiting to see if Cavaho would speak. Cavaho glared at Sliver, his fists automatically clenching and releasing. The crowd was now crammed back on itself. Less than two meters separated Cavaho from Sliver. Cavaho started forward. Sliver bellowed, “No!” Cavaho stopped out of sheer surprise at the intensity of Sliver's shout. Before Cavaho recovered, Sliver traced a gloved finger in the air, a single rune. Sliver held his hand forward, oddly crooked. Cavaho recognized it as a clear threat. The Acolytes could see the symbol hanging in the air and knew exactly what Sliver intended.

  “It is forbidden,” Creta said evenly. Cavaho stepped forward, refusing to be threatened. A twitch of Sliver's hand and a wave of concussive force slammed into Cavaho. He was thrown off his feet and slammed heavily against the far wall, sending tribals toppling on his way. Creta screamed and the Acolytes stepped back.

  Many facets of Sliver's action were surprising to the crowd. Sliver had willfully done violence to another tribal, an act forbidden by the first of the three AmerIndian Laws. Even more shocking was Sliver’s attack. The Acolytes each swore to Celetain to use their Shaman powers aggressively only against AmerIndian Confederacy enemies. This was the first time an Acolyte had attacked another tribal using Cybershamanism. Every tribal in the room knew AmerIndian Law would demand Sliver’s banishment.

  Cavaho lay crumpled on the floor. Sliver stepped back. The shocked look on the faces of the tribals collected around him pulled him back to his senses. He lowered his hand and anger melted from his face, replaced with sadness. Tribals crowded around Cavaho, pulling him to a sitting position.

  Sliver approached to discern if Cavaho was badly injured or merely stunned. The healers around Cavaho blocked him. Sliver stepped closer and suddenly the healers surrounding Cavaho were parted. Cavaho was low, both hands in front of him, his powerful legs curled behind him. Sliver had failed to incapacitate Cavaho with his first strike. There would be no opportunity for a second.

  Cavaho's move to launch himself at Sliver was abruptly interrupted.

  “Cavaho?” Celetain sat forward.

  Cavaho froze.

  Celetain grimaced and regarded her Acolytes. “Is this how you act when I am not with you?”

  Celetain's Acolytes reacted with a mixture of shock, shame and excitement that their elder was with them once again.

  She turned to Cavaho and her face softened. Then the pain she carried was again evident. Wearing a white cotton gown, her hair back in a loose ponytail, three wires hanging loosely off her arms, Celetain was now just a patient again. Cavaho stepped forward and she collapsed into his arms. He held her, embracing her as much as he dared. He relaxed his hold and looked down at her, a soft smile coming across his face. He kissed her and she folded into him.

  The room burst back into activity, tribals rushing out of the lodge house to get the word out that Celetain was conscious again. It would be welcome news to every tribal and precious words to every Haida. The Nez Perce medics started to coax Celetain to lie back down. When she refused Cavaho gently pushed her shoulders back and kissed her on her forehead. He backed away and let the Nez Perce medics tended to her.

  The Alpha medic thanked Cavaho. “Just a few tests and a few more hours of rest and you will be able to enjoy our new home, Elder Shaman.” Celetain nodded at the Alpha medic and reached for Cavaho's hand. She smiled weakly. Cavaho looked down and grasped her hand. “Thank you,” she said. “Go to Wovoka. He may need you. I will see you again soon.” He bent and kissed her again and made his way out of the lodge house to find the White Buffalo.