Nirvana Effect

16



Edward followed Mahanta in lock step. They soon reached the temple. No one had followed them. The tribe was absorbed with handling the bodies of the two fallen.

“Tien will be properly buried. Dook will be dragged into the woods,” Mahanta said matter-of-factly as they entered the hut. Edward feigned an interested glance. The pain had started. “The after-effects?” asked Mahanta.

“Not as bad as before,” answered Edward.

“You had him. The trance ended as you were striking.” It was not a question. Edward nodded. “That was stupid.”

Edward shrugged.

“Is that all you have to say, white man?” asked Mahanta. He was downright hot. His fists were in knots. “I can understand your logic - you were the most likely to defeat Dook between you and me.

If Nockwe died, Dook might finish what he had started through Tien and have you killed…but still…”

“Actually, that thought never occurred to me,” said Edward.

Mahanta glowered . Edward was only inciting the Onge’s rage.

“Nockwe spared my life that night at the coming-of-age. I felt it was only right to help him. I like him,” explained Edward. He chuckled.

“You like him?! You did that because you like him?!” shouted Mahanta. He tugged at his hair, his voice filling up the temple.

Edward felt frustrated. Mahanta had no right to talk to him like that, Onge god or no. “You know, there is such a thing as honor,” said Edward. “There is such a thing as doing the right thing.”

“The right thing?” echoed Mahanta. He sighed and looked at the ground. He started laughing. At first, it was just a chuckle, but soon the rage melted into mirth. He lost his breath before finally settling down. Edward watched him incredulously.

“You Christian martyr…” muttered Mahanta at length between chuckles. “Well, it worked this time. Maybe I should study your knight-like methods.”

Edward was disarmed by Mahanta’s change in mood. “Maybe you shouldn’t,” said Edward. “I almost got slaughtered.”

“You were certain, weren’t you, that you could beat him,” said Mahanta.

Edward shook his head ‘no’, then reconsidered. “Yeah, I guess I was. And then I was very certain I was going to lose,” he said. “So I had to change the game and re-take the advantage. Then I was very sure I was going to beat him again. Then the trance wore off,” added Edward.

Mahanta nodded. “I call it trance certainty.”

“Trance certainty?” Edward repeated.

“It’s a phenomenon I’ve encountered. I’ve observed a great magnification in the emotions of certainty and confidence while I’ve been under trance.”

“Hmmm…” said Edward, thinking over his own experience.

“Apparently, since a mind under trance has a great ability to cause the future, the mind tends to feel certainty about any course one decides to take. Even minute probabilities can seem great certainties while in trance.”

“It’s a false certainty,” said Edward.

“Well, not necessarily false at all. For example, let us say it was a little more right to you than wrong to jump into that fight. Well, even this slight differential in rightness and wrongness becomes a dead certainty in trance,” said Mahanta.

Edward nodded. “I see.”

“It’s key not to use one’s understanding in normal life to entirely evaluate data and conclusions while under trance. Trance has a different feel and feedback than normal life.”

“Kind of like a blind man who gets his vision restored might react incorrectly to various sights for a while,” said Edward.

“Yes, kind of like that. But don’t get me wrong. It seems that certainty has a great value. Certainty seems to me to be necessary for successful action.”

They talked all night, mulling over Edward’s experience with the substance, comparing notes. They resisted the urge to philosophize, and stuck mainly to the facts and details of what Edward had learned while under trance and how Mahanta’s trances differed. They agreed on working on reducing the after-pain as a primary research goal, and Edward threw out some of his ideas.

But when he finally lay down on his pallet, Edward could not stop mulling over Mahanta’s initial rage and condescension.

There was another side to Mahanta that Mahanta did not want seen by the likes of Edward. Edward decided to protect himself from that side. Mahanta had given good advice. The only way he could trust Mahanta was to not trust him at all.

Before he finally slept, he ripped the back page out of his journal and wrote a note. He rolled it into a tube. He scratched the bottom of the wooden crucifix hanging from his hut. He then carried the tube to the southernmost free-standing tree in the village and buried the tube three feet deep three feet south of the trunk. He was sure he was not followed. That was important, since it was his only “card in the hole,” literally and figuratively.

It was an old Jesuit trick.