Nirvana Effect

24



Manassa stood at his “throne”. It was a joke to him, his chair, but it had the effect he needed on his Onge. One day he would need a throne that would impress more than just a tribe of primitives, but also popes and kings.

One day very soon I’ll need more to impress my Onge.

Tomy knelt facing him to his left, Nockwe to his right. The boy stifled a yawn. It was still several hours until daybreak.

“You were awake when I sent for you,” commented Manassa to Nockwe.

“I was,” acknowledged Nockwe.

“Much on your mind?” asked Manassa.

“A chieftain’s mind must never sleep,” answered Nockwe.

“Please stand and report,” said Manassa.

Tomy took his turn first, as had been the tradition since this temple had first been erected. Nockwe was the only member of the tribe who ranked higher than Manassa’s messenger, and that was only within these walls. Outside the hut, even Nockwe had to feign lending his ear to the boy.

“Internally, the Onge as a whole are excited. They talk of nothing but your sermon at the clearing, the gun and the birds. They are ready to do your bidding. There remains only a small knot of dissenters.” Tomy paused for a moment.

Manassa nodded, giving his consent. Tomy tilted his head to signify his understanding. Nockwe missed it, still looking intently at the ground as was protocol.

The young man continued his report. “Externally, we have secured seven vehicles, some guns. I have not been to town for two days. Our ears are slow here, in the village. There is no phone, no way to get a message across. I am working on this.”

We must move. This is no place for a headquarters, thought Manassa.

“You are to go to town. You are to do as we planned,” Manassa instructed.

Tomy nodded. He would follow the directions to the letter. “Nockwe will soon have our army ready. When it is ready, so must the village must be ready, and so must Lisbaad be ready. Lisbaad is in your hands, Tomy. Goodbye.”

“Yes, lord.” Tomy turned to leave.

“My messenger,” said Manassa.

“Yes, my lord,” said Tomy, turning back.

“I need intelligence in regards to Liang.”

“You will have it,” said Tomy. This was what made Manassa keep Tomy as his messenger. Tomy did not know who Liang was. Tomy would not ask him. Tomy refused to add one single thought to Manassa’s workload - he would rather work without sleep than trouble his god with a single clarification.

Still, it would be foolish to unnecessarily overstrain his messenger. Manassa took the time to explain: “Liang is a big figure in the Sri Lankan underworld. He practically owns Lisbaad, and controls all of the trade to, from, and through the island,” said Manassa. “I must know more, for I wish for the tribe to enjoy some of his vast resources and consideration. This much I already know. I leave the rest to you.”

“Yes, lord,” said Tomy. He bowed, then maintained his position, head downturned.

“You may go, now. Do not fail me.”

Tomy left the hut.

“An amazing young man,” said Manassa. It was a comment that Nockwe did not answer. He had not yet been recognized by the throne.

This amused Manassa. It had been quite easy to revive the old traditions. There was a time when the Onge were more than a mere speck on the map. Their economic model of hunting had given them some fine warriors, and at one time in the distant past their “empire” had actually stretched through Sri Lanka to the southern tip of the Indian mainland. At that time, the Onge had advanced into a centralized feudalism, complete with roughshod court. Manassa drew on their history to show his people their future. Nockwe seemed to know his ancient role and played the part ably enough.

“Nockwe,” said Manassa. “Give me your brief.”

“Yes, lord,” said Nockwe. He turned his eyes up to face his people’s god. “All goes as you have foreseen. The gardens are full now with the nectar plants. We have two hundred fifty-six plants. We have twenty liters of the sap and are now producing five liters per day. The replanting experiment continues, with favorable results and four of five surviving thus far. Your personal lab will be complete tonight as an adjunct to the temple, accessible from your sleeping quarters.” The chieftain effortlessly rattled off the facts.

“Very well.” Manassa was impressed with Nockwe’s easy command of the numbers. Manassa knew it was Nockwe’s administrative talents, not his skill with the spear, which had made him so popular with the people. Unfortunately, the Onge method of choosing rulers eliminated all but the warriors. For the first time in over a century, a warrior-administrator had the helm. “Continue,” prompted Manassa.

“We have fifty warriors trained in the lightness and battle-ready. We have twenty-five more under training, and four hundred more warriors ready to begin training at your command. At this rate, it will take three months.”

“For every ten warriors you have trained, you may train four more at once. You must be done in a month. Time is an enemy far worse than any potential dissent,” said Manassa.

“As you wish, my lord,” acknowledged Nockwe with a respectful nod.

Manassa did not want any more trainees armed with the lightness than he felt he could control. “Continue,” said Manassa.

“The inner circle is also fully formed. I recommend that you assign Lock to lead it.”

“Lock?” asked Manassa.

“The late Tien’s brother. He would do an admirable job, and could report to you. Though he was trained under the medicine man, he is most loyal.”

Manassa didn’t hesitate. “You will do it,” said Manassa. “You will lead my inner circle of priests.” Manassa gauged Nockwe’s reaction. The chieftain’s face remained placid, but even outside the trance Manassa sensed with much conflict behind Nockwe’s near-black eyes. “Do you not wish to do so?”

“My lord…” Nockwe breathed deeply and gathered his thoughts. “It is not that I do not wish to. It is the ultimate in opportunity…I wish only to serve you and the tribe. It is only that I fear that I should fail you if I were to stretch myself too thin. To run the tribe in the coming months will become a formidable challenge in and of itself. Your security and your vision are of course the tribe’s most important assets. And the tribe is key to your vision coming true. I feel I cannot ably handle all of it.”

Manassa sat down in his throne. Nockwe knelt. “You will do it. You will have assistants, you will organize it, but you will do it. I have foreseen it,” said Manassa.

Nockwe must gain a religious significance to the people, or he will become worthless to me. His wise words will fall upon deaf ears; a single priest of my inner circle will hold more sway than the great chieftain.

Nockwe acquiesced after consideration. He did a good job of burying his frustration. “Yes, lord,” said Nockwe. “As you wish.”

“Please see to it. And continue your brief.”

“The tribe is 1,163 -” said Nockwe.

“I thought it 1,162.”

“We had a birth,” said Nockwe.

“Very well. We need more of those. Encourage it whatever way you can.”

“Yes, lord. We have food stores for three months. As your messenger reported, we have guns right now for only twenty warriors. We have seven cars, with a total capacity of thirty-five soldiers. Two are larger vehicles, vans.”

“This must be remedied immediately,” said Manassa. I need more resources. “Tomy is working on it, but now you must remedy it as well. There is no use in training our warriors with weapons they don’t have, or educating them in the culture of the West without giving them the swordpoint that won Westerners their culture. We must have at least five hundred guns, at minimum. Two thousand of different types would be best, but not necessary at this time. Small handguns all the way up to semi-automatic rifles. Armor if you can find it. These are things we’ll need to find in Sri Lanka. There are only so many of these on the island.”

Manassa paced a bit, then leaned against the arm of his throne. “Start a forward post in Sri Lanka,” Manassa ordered.

“Yes, lord.”

“Is there anything else you have to report?” asked Manassa.

“Not at this time, my lord.”

“Very well. I have a question for you, then,” said Manassa. Nockwe’s body tensed. Yes, he senses it. “You helped Edward, you warned him.” It wasn’t really a question.

Nockwe’s tired eyes shot wide, but he did not otherwise move. He was speechless.

“In all things the chieftain serves the tribe,” said Manassa. “I do not think you served the tribe in this. Are you no longer chieftain?”

Nockwe’s mouth opened and closed. There was nothing he could say.

“Explain your motives, Nockwe.”

“In all things I do serve the tribe. But this was not out of service, but of honor. I am a loyal man. I felt that since he saved my life, I should at least give him warning.”

“Warning of what?”

Nockwe locked eyes with Manassa. “Of his impending death.”

Manassa could not deny it, so he didn’t take it up anymore. “Tell me, Nockwe, do you owe favors to any more outsiders? Does your honor call you to help any more white men?”

Nockwe maintained his composure. “An important question, Manassa. My debt with Edward is discharged. I only serve the tribe and have always served the tribe.”

“You realize you may have created quite a setback,” said Manassa.

“I did not think that I did anything that you did not already foresee and plan for.”

Actually, Manassa hadn’t seen it. The idea that Nockwe would do such a thing was totally foreign to him. Manassa toyed again with the idea of getting rid of Nockwe. He’d been working it over in his mind for the past day.

I am spread too thin, already. The chieftain is smart, loyal. By his actions, he is unique in that he does not buy into my godhood, and yet does not neglect my power. He does serve the tribe; in this he’s utterly predictable. I understand what he did with Edward.

Manassa’s thoughts turned to the opposite end of the spectrum. Perhaps he could awaken Nockwe with the drug, as he had done with Edward. I could trust him more than that white man. That white man has too many crazy ideas in his head, ideas I didn’t even know about until after I gave him the drug. I had not yet grown up, that week ago.

Manassa’s tired mind drifted briefly back to his decision with Edward. It had indeed been a stupid mistake, but one he would let ride. In ten more days, Edward might have the cure for the after-pain. If not, maybe Manassa could eventually come up with it himself. Manassa just didn’t have the time; he’d have to study, he’d have to work on it, and there was so much more he needed to accomplish. It would just waste precious trances, and he had to make every single one of them count. Just with the power of the drug in its present form he had much too small an infrastructure and organization. There was hardly any reason he should spend his own time working on the drug’s improvement.

At first, Manassa had considered just giving Edward the lightness by administering the substance orally. He may have died, then, though, and not been able to work on the after-pain.

With the after-pain gone, I really would be more the god…right now, all my motions limited by just one trance a day…so long as Edward doesn’t turn on me, it’s worth the risk.

“Are there not more Edwards? Do you want me to get you another?” asked Nockwe.

Manassa remembered he was still in audience with Nockwe, a very tense Nockwe who thought he might meet death in this confrontation. He felt so disconnected recently, his mind shifting into and out of the problems and threats at hand. The present held so little threat compared to the future. Manassa was in the present and he was not. He dismissed Nockwe’s query with a wave of his hand. He’d made his decision. “Edward still works for me. If he stops, I can put others in his place. It is your loyalty that I need much more than a white man’s research. I feel after talking to you tonight that I have it. I have a question for you, though. Why do you wish to see my vision through?” asked Manassa.

“You are the living god, Manassa,” said Nockwe. Manassa looked around the hut, ensuring they were alone.

“Don’t give me this kcleyp,” said the living god, using a choice Onge expletive. “It is important that everyone else believe that, this is true. But you don’t. There is no need for you to. You may never say this to another being, nor even speak like this to me outside of this temple, even when alone, but you and I both know I am no living god.”

Nockwe’s face was again frozen. He looked more threatened than before. Manassa could tell the chief did not know how to react. Good.

Manassa continued. “Except, of course, to the degree that I can exalt our tribe. And in that sense, you could be a living god, too. I would be not a god but a madman to believe otherwise.”

Nockwe knelt. “My god, I do not -”

“Nockwe! Stop it! Get up! Stop it! Say it. Say ‘Manassa is Mahanta, and neither are living gods, except by their deeds.’ And quit all this religious kcleyp when we meet in seclusion. Say it!”

“Manassa is Mahanta,” Nockwe began to say, carefully. Every muscle in his body appeared tense, as though he might flee the temple at any second. He stopped.

“SAY IT!!!” screamed Manassa.

“And neither are living gods, except by their deeds,” Nockwe finished quietly.

Manassa let a silence ride the air between them before he spoke again. “It is a cruel trick, our legends, to deny men their opportunity at godhood, their opportunity to become heroes, by painting anyone with real power as coming down from the heavens or being born of hell,” said Manassa.

Manassa stepped down close and rested his hands on Nockwe’s shoulders. “Nockwe, if I am ever recorded in our oral histories as a living god, so will you be. We need religion on our side, to keep our men and women disciplined and their morale high. But we would be fools, as the generals of our army, to think of it as anything more than that. The only divinities we have on our sides are our wits, made in the Great Thinker’s image, and our able bodies, which were ultimately created by He who is Unmoved. Things will only go right when you make them to go right, not because you have me on your side.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Nockwe.

“Yes, my chieftain,” echoed Manassa, imitating the form with a familiar smile. “Now answer this question, without your kcleyp. Why do you wish to see my vision through?”

“For the good of the tribe, my lord. It is the natural order of things. Just as the most fit must rule the tribe, so it is with the world. With this nectar of yours, the tribe can soon be the most fit. Our tribe deserves prosperity.

Manassa nodded. “And who do you serve?”

“The tribe.”

“Very good.” Manassa clapped him on the shoulder and hid his disappointment with an encouraging smile. Nockwe was not yet ready to become awakened. Manassa could not afford his loyalty.